#Ingested band

[horrorpatch]

UK Death Metallers INGESTED Drop "Endless Machine" Video!

UK death metal trio INGESTED has released a new video for “Endless Machine”! The song and video are from the band’s new album, The Tide Of Death And Fractured Dreams, released today via Metal Blade Records. Be sure to watch the ripping video and get more info about the band’s new album below. From The Press Release The Tide Of Death And Fractured Dreams, the latest full-length from UK death…

[mini-uzzy]

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[mingemuncher40k]

Any reccomendations 4 death metal with women vocalists?

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Stuck with me - Kim Seungmin

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

tags: fluff, clg bf Seungmin, popular singer boy seungmin, mention of previous breakup, oc gender not specifically mentioned, friends to lovers, puppy seungmin

a/n: not proofread, just trying to live my delulu through writing, Seungmin in glasses has been stuck in my head

masterlist

"You what?" Your voice comes out in a screech that turns many heads in the cafe you frequented often, like most other students from your university.

Seungmin, who stood in front of you, looking calm and gorgeous as ever stared back at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"You heard me." He says in a cool way that throws you off more.

"I- I need a minute." You manage to let out and cover your head in your hands. The embarrassment from screeching in the middle of the cafe and the shock of what had just happened was all too much to take in at once. You need to breathe.

It was yet another normal weekday filled with assignments, delusional romcoms and endless caffeine ingestion. After a rough summer filled with heartbreak and a depressing start to the fall semester, you had finally gained your footing. The fall had brought with it a lot of changes in you.

You found new classmates who had helped you through the rough times and cared about you. Amongst those classmates was also Seungmin, the menace of the group but surprisingly your favourite confidante. He had been nothing but a little prankster and a comedian who ensured the other boys- Hyunjin, Changbin and Jeongin, never got a single second of peace.

He went a little easier on you and Ryujin, the other girl in the group, and you figured it had less to do with your gender and more to do with the fact that he was positively scared of both of you. While he had been a little less annoying with you, it didn't mean you were entirely free of the classic Seungmin pranks either.

Which is why your first instinct on b being asked out on a date by the Kim Seungmin was to believe he was pulling a prank on you.

Seungmin might be a comedian amongst his friends but you were very well aware of his status as the golden boy of the university's band and the boy with the golden voice. On top of that angelic voice, the boy also had a face that could make everyone melt. That smile had made your heart skip beats on several occasions too.

You had met him on a very surly day of your class during the first week of the semester to discuss forming project teams. What began as a purely academic bond evolved into a sureshot friendship as his friend group got acquainted with you and your friend. You had grown very fond of the boys as they helped you forget your pain.

Seungmin was the first one to reach out and notice your melancholy and something about him made you open up about your struggles. It had been two months since then and he had been your source of support through the entire time. While the other boys were also sweet and Ryujin was your primary pillar of support, Seungmin gave you a comfort that felt worlds apart from the others.

You had your fair share of childish fun with him too. You started to notice how he let only Jeongin and you tease him. Changbin and Hyunjin never stood a chance against Seungmin and despite the latter's fear of Ryujin's brash honesty, he never let her off the hook easily either. It was not exactly a surprise to realise that Seungmin had a soft spot for you.

The surprise was that he had walked into the cafe on a random Tuesday afternoon and chose to utter the words "Will you go on a date with me?" in the most nonchalant Seungmin way with absolutely no warning.

And an even bigger surprise was how your heart was skipping several beats on hearing it and your brain was practically shouting at you to say yes even though you had never let yourself think about Seungmin in that sense.

Correction- you had consciously tried your best to not let Seungmin and his actions, smile, voice, hair or even his pranks affect you in a romantic way. You had just come off a horrendous romantic experience that should keep you sworn off romance for a decade at the least. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't thought about being with Seungmin at least a couple hundred times in the last month alone.

It had all started with that dream. One cold October afternoon, you decided to make the mistake of taking a nap and ended up dreaming of cuddling with Seungmin while watching the snow from your window. The dream threw you off balance and ever since you have been trying and failing to remove Seungmin out of your mind. The random blushes creeping up your cheeks and a pang of jealousy weighing down your mind every time he performed on stage and you had to watch all the girls drool over him. It was all really frustrating, to have to act normally around him while convincing yourself that you are better off as friends.

Especially since he had started wearing his new prescription glasses and smiling at you randomly. Everything he did got magnified and took up extensive real estate in your brain. Each night you convinced yourself you don't have feelings for him and each morning he would do something so small that would have you fighting for your life trying not to melt.

And now he had the audacity to prank you with something as big as a date and you had no idea how to react.

You parted your hands from your face to look up at him through the gaps in your fingers to find him missing. This made you sit upright and look around, part of you hoping he had left and another part sighing in disappointment at the idea of it being a joke after all. But no, there he was, waiting in line at the counter for his order- which you knew was an iced americano, no sugar and extra ice. You watched as he politely thanked the lady who handed him a drink, then turned around and smiled at the group of freshman girls giggling at him. An involuntary eye-roll escaped and you turned toward your laptop waiting from him to take the seat opposite yours.

"So?" He says, placing his drink on the table and placing his hands on the table as he leans forward.

God, that smirk on his face made your stomach do a backflip.

"So what?" You forced yourself to look and sound as normal as possible. And judging by the smirk that has taken on residence on Seungmin's face you weren't doing the best job.

"Y/N, come on. Stop playing hard to get with me."

"Seungmin what the hell! Stop trying to play one of your stupid pranks on me." This broke his stance. His face turned from playful to serious and it only made your heart beat faster.

"I'm not playing pranks y/n. I am serious." And he looks it too. You gulp down the ball of anxiety forming in your throat.

"You want me to go on a date with you? For real?"

Seungmin flinches at your tone. "Is that really such a weird thought for you?"

The doubt flashing on his face tugs at your heart and you immediately leap to say "no".

This brings the faintest hint of a smile back on his face. He takes a sip out of his drink and says "So it's a yes?"

You say the only thing that comes to your mind at that moment. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Seungmin's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Why me? Why now?" Your voice falters at the thought of being vulnerable only for him to end up calling it a prank or a mistake. But the way his face softens at your question removes the worry from your mind. He reaches out and takes your hand in his. The butterflies are doing a full ballet routine in your stomach and your heart thrums in your ears in anticipation.

"Y/N, I knew you were dumb but never thought you were this dumb!" You pout in response and he chuckles. "Okay okay, I was joking. But what I mean to say is... I've liked you for a while now. So I thought I'll ask you out on a date, see if it is an infatuation or something more and then figure out what to do."

It was very Seungmin of him to say that.

"What about my feelings for you?" You questioned out of curiosity.

"That's obvious. You're already head over heels in love with me." He says it with a shrug and you remove your hand from his in frustration. "Ya Seungmin, do you have a death wish?" you exclaim and roll your eyes. Of course, you knew he was joking but your stomach still churned in anxiety.

"Jokes apart, I really do like you y/n and I hope you give me this chance to show it to you. I was waiting all this while for you to take your time after your breakup and move on. Yesterday when you said you didn't even think of any of that mess or feel sad anymore I decided it is time to make my move. And of course, there is no force on you and I won't hold it against you if you reject either. But I really hope you give me this chance. The semester is almost over and we can go on one small date during the break and then figure out everything else. Please?"

Everyone called Seungmin a puppy and you were wary of the nickname initially but at that moment he was looking at you with the softest eyes, lips in a pout and a questioning look that made him look like the cutest puppy on the planet.

His heartfelt confession gave rise to a gazillion butterflies and everything beautiful in your stomach. The big smile formed on your face involuntarily.

"Seungmin that was... cute", you said chuckling. "Who knew you could be this wholesome!"

His pout intensified. "Hey, I am very cute always. But the fact that you haven't slapped me yes makes me hope I might get a yes?" The last sentence sounds more like a question even to Seungmin and you let out another chuckle.

"Yes, Seungmin. I will go on a date with you. Just one though." You feign nonchalance but he sees right through you.

"Y/N, please! I know you are squealing with happiness on the inside right now."

"Yea sure, like I am one of your cringe fangirls ugh! I am just doing this as a favour to you."

"Ahha I see. How kind of you ma'am." He says with a mock bow while his face is glowing with joy.

"Ya stop teasing me or I will back out." The ultimatum sounds like a joke even to your own ears but you keep up the act for the fun.

"No, you're stuck with me now. No backing out!" He said with indignance.

"Do you mean just about the date?" The question left your mouth before your brain could understand it and you regretted it the instant his expression turned serious again.

Seungmin looks into your eyes for a moment too long before responding, "You're stuck with me. That's all."

And just like he leaves for his next class, leaving you to smile to yourself like an idiot. A ping from your phone distracts you.

Seungmin: I'd be wholesome to you forever if it meant seeing you smile like that.

You didn't know what the impending winter would bring but for now, you decided to bask in the happiness and this new facet of Seungmin.

[thecoleopterawithana]

Lennon may not be at his most dynamic in Get Back but he’s still compelling, partly because he’s not the character we expected to meet. At least, he’s not who I expected. Having ingested many books about the Beatles I thought he was going to be fiery, caustic, domineering, and - in this period - bitterly scornful of McCartney. Yet the Lennon we see here is for the most part a rather gentle presence who acts as a calming mediator between Paul and George. He grins at Paul, laughs heartily at his jokes, listens patiently to him. There is something quite childlike about John, particularly when his face opens up into a smile as the band hits a groove, or when he’s sitting patiently on the floor with a guitar and Yoko, waiting for another take. When Ringo starts playing Octopus’s Garden with George, John says “What am I doing, Ritchie?” and gets on the drums. There is bravado, of course - as when, following George’s departure, he immediately suggests they get Clapton in and split George’s guitars. But there is tenderness, too: after George leaves, it is John who brings the three remaining Beatles together into a hug.

We are used to thinking of Lennon as the visionary and Paul as the pragmatist. Yet here it’s Paul who throws up wildly impractical ideas - a news show that ends in an announcement of The Beatles’ split, a TV spectacular, an album full of songs they haven’t written yet, by next week - and John who suggests, mildly and sympathetically, that they consider what’s actually possible.

— Ian Leslie, "The Banality of Genius: Notes on Peter Jackson's Get Back" (January 26, 2022).

[I was curious to read more of Ian Leslie's approach to the Beatles in general and Lennon-McCartney in particular, since he's currently writing a book about John and Paul's relationship: “John and Paul: A Love Story in Songs". He's also the author of that New York Times opinion piece that came out today.]

[bestiarium]

The Stikini [Native American mythology; Seminole/Passamaquoddy mythology]

Owls inspire a certain sense of awe with their highly efficient nocturnal hunts, so it comes as no surprise that they have a role in some myths and folktales from around the world. In the religion of the Native American Muscogee and Seminole peoples, a Stikini was a malicious owl-like monster. The Muscogee people had a special dance called the StikinobAnga to ward off the evil Stikini, but they could also be fought with special ‘Stikini arrows’ which were equipped with owl feathers and featured grooves filled with medicinal herbs. Stikini used to be humans in life, but are now undead owl-creatures due to dabbling in witchcraft. I noticed they are sometimes translated as ‘witches’.

I found very few Native American descriptions of the exact nature and appearance of these monsters, but McElroy’s encyclopedia claims that the Stikini look like regular people during the day. When night falls, they vomit out their own entrails before hanging them in trees and transforming into horrible owl monsters. They then set out to hunt, and exclusively eat still-beating human hearts. If they ever go a full night without consuming at least one heart, they die. At dawn, they ingest their entrails to transform back into humans.

An often-cited interview with Lucinda Davis, a former slave from a Muscogee owner, claimed that the Native American Muscogee people associated owls with death and often perceived the birds as deathly omens. Whenever someone heard the noises of a screech owl, it was thought that somebody among them would soon perish. Supposedly, these owls could often be heard during funerals.

The Stikini is related to this belief, and the word ‘Stikini’ was also used to refer to screech owls.

Interestingly, it is believed that African folklore influenced the Muscogee story of the Stikini. The Passamaquoddy people, too, knew a version of this creature that they called the Chebelakw (or Cipelahq). And old Passamaquoddy song describes how the monster, along with the spirits of the land and the water would cease their doings to listen to the sound of the singer’s drum.

The powerful wind spirit k’Cheebellock is also related to this creature: he has long legs, mighty wings, and a head but no body. In one Passamaquoddy story, k’Cheebellock takes a liking to two young girls who were taking a walk. He grabs them and lifts them high into the air to carry them to his world, which is a strange place even above the sky. But the girls soon became homesick and cried to be returned to their world. Eventually, k’Cheebellock gave in and took the two back to the world below. But the forest where he landed was vast, and his wings were too large to reach the ground through the thick canopy. So he left the girls on a hemlock. The girls noticed Leux, a local folk character, and begged him to help them. He replied that he was far too busy and left them to their fates.

Later, though, Leux came by once more and the girls called out to him again. Leux agreed to help them down, but on the condition that one of the girls would become his wife. But the girls were clever and tied a hairband to the tree. Once back on solid ground, they demanded that Leux took the hair band back if one of them was to marry him. He tried, but the girls had tied a very tight knot so it took him a long time to collect the hair band.

When at last he climbed down from the tree, the girls had finished their preparations and blinded him. They then called out to him to follow them, and so tricked him to walk right into a river. After climbing back on dry land, Leux heared the voices of the girls again and follows them, only to step on a trap made of porcupine quills. He then tried to rest, but when he awoke he found that the girls were nowhere to be found.

Sources: Layman, M. M., 1989, Utilization of Traditional Health Care Systems by the Native Population of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, a thesis submitted to the faculty of graduate studies and research in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in the Department of Native Studies, University of Saskatchewan. No author listed, 1890, A Story of Leux, The Journal of American Folklore 3(9), p.270-270. Pasierowska, R.L., 2017, “Screech Owls Allus Holler ‘round the House before Death”: Birds and the Souls of Black Folk in the 1930s American South, Journal of Social History, 51(1), p. 27-46. McElroy, D.R., 2020, Superstitions: A Handbook of Folklore, Myths and Legends from around the World, Bok Sales, p. 91, 192 pp. Prince, J.D., 2021, Passamaquoddy Texts: Volume X, Publications of the American Ethnological Society, Drugulin, Germany. (image source 1: Audre ‘Charamath’ Schutte. You can buy a print of this artwork or browse the artist’s other works on charamath.com) (image source 2: Kim Declercq on Artstation)

[horrorpatch]

UK Death Metal Crew INGESTED Release New Single & Video for "Pantheon"!

British death metal group INGESTED has released a new single and video for the track, “Pantheon”! The track is culled from the band’s upcoming new full-length album, The Tide Of Death And Fractured Dreams which is due out on April 5th on Metal Blade Records. Be sure to give the video a spin below to get a feel for what’s coming on the new album. From The Press Release UK death…

[eggsaladsandwhic]

Knives Headcannons (SFW and NSFW)

This is for my upcoming Poly CollegeAU Knives x OC x Vash fanfic and it's 2am and I gotta get my brainwaves out.

SFW and General

Nai is a double major in both Environmental Justice and Science

Likes taking philosophy classes it helps him understand humanity a bit more.

Probably autistic or at least on the spectrum

Is struggling with Bipolar and it hits him hard sometimes

College life is hard when you're a plant and he's trying his best to fit in

Speaking of Plants I've got this weird idea that Nai is definitely like a carnivorous plant (usually some species have barbs or thorns to trap their prey in)

Will not go to parties or bars (...Vash makes him every once and a while, but will not admit to being perceived whatsoever.

Likes fruity and sour wines

Absolute book nerd

Gets end of the semester burnt out depression (me too ngl)

Is the cook of the apartment surprisingly, he has learned to like some human cuisine. He's an alright cook but is a heavy meat and vegetables kinda guy (don't ask him to bake it makes him impatient)

Probably in a couple on campus band ensembles

Gets hit on and flirted with a lot and really hates it

Sleeps only with those soft af blankets and prefers to be cold rather than hot, and he usually needs to hug in his sleep, hence the blankets.

Likes the idea of love, especially a platonic to romantic type of affection

He's just so bitter about the fact that a human would likely never want him for what he really is

Touch adverse but even more touch starved

He's got to like someone for them to even be in his personal bubble

Actions over words

Vash and him both have a Mate for life concept so wanting to choose that special someone is really hard

So many goddamn hair products but the soft hair is worth it

NSFW ⚠️ Below

Okay shifting gears here now for ✨ The Spice✨ (NSFW)

Big dick energy - thinking around 8.5 hard

Prehensile penis and def looking like a softly barbed tentacle

Petals like a flowering butterwort, white to purple

Back to my carnivorous plant idea but this man is FERAL in bed - bites and makes plenty of noises

Aphrodisiac pre-cum, topical and ingestible

VIRGIN (this man hates people with a firey passion)

However does own one of those clear Fleshlights especially if he goes into rut

Has to go a couple rounds otherwise he feels frustrated even on a normal night

Amazing stamina and recovery time

Has a medium sex drive but the more stressed out the lower it is

This man has to Top, he'd really have to trust his partner to bottom and lose control like that (BUT THATS EXACTLY WHAT HE'S LOOKING FOR)

Don't let him get pussy drunk it's a bad idea for either party

Since I'm going for at least semi-realistic sex (especially with a dimensional being) in this fic I'll be honest and say he would accidentally hurt you and it crushes his soul

As much as I love self indulgent smut I think a human would have a hard time keeping up with a horny plant

Would bite either way too hard, overstimulate you too much, accidentally flung one of his knives into your side, started going marathon mode and having to literally slap him out of it

Usual kinks- Praise, hair pulling, breeding, choking, Size kink

Unusual - Blood, prey/predator dynamic

Wrote till I needed to sleep oopsies anyways please fill my brain with more ideas I'm begging 🙏

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dinkclump Linkdump

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

Some Saturday mornings, I look at the week's blogging and realize I have a lot more links saved up than I managed to write about this week, and then I do a linkdump. There've been 14 of these, and this is number 15:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Attentive readers will note that this isn't Saturday. You're right. But I'm on a book tour and every day is shatterday, because damn, it's grueling and I'm not the spry manchild who took Little Brother on the road in 2008 – I'm a 52 year old with two artificial hips. Hence: an out-of-cycle linkdump. Come see me on tour and marvel at my verticality!

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

Best thing I read this week, hands down, was Ryan Broderick's Garbage Day piece, "AI search is a doomsday cult":

https://www.garbageday.email/p/ai-search-doomsday-cult

Broderick makes so many excellent points in this piece. First among them: AI search sucks, but that's OK, because no one is asking for AI search. This only got more true later in the week when everyone's favorite spicy autocomplete accidentally loaded the James Joyce module:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2024/02/chatgpt-alarms-users-by-spitting-out-shakespearean-nonsense-and-rambling/

(As Matt Webb noted, Chatbots have slid rapidly from Star Trek (computers give you useful information in a timely fashion) to Douglas Adams (computers spout hostile, impenetrable nonsense at you):

https://interconnected.org/home/2024/02/21/adams

But beyond the unsuitability of AI for search results and beyond the public's yawning indifference to AI-infused search, Broderick makes a more important point: AI search is about summarizing web results so you don't have to click links and read the pages yourself.

If that's the future of the web, who the fuck is going to write those pages that the summarizer summarizes? What is the incentive, the business-model, the rational explanation for predicting a world in which millions of us go on writing web-pages, when the gatekeepers to the web have promised to rig the game so that no one will ever visit those pages, or read what we've written there, or even know it was us who wrote the underlying material the summarizer just summarized?

If we stop writing the web, AIs will have to summarize each other, forming an inhuman centipede of botshit-ingestion. This is bad news, because there's pretty solid mathematical evidence that training a bot on botshit makes it absolutely useless. Or, as the authors of the paper – including the eminent cryptographer Ross Anderson – put it, "using model-generated content in training causes irreversible defects":

https://arxiv.org/abs/2305.17493

This is the mathematical evidence for Jathan Sadowski's "Hapsburg AI," or, as the mathematicians call it, "The Curse of Recursion" (new band-name just dropped).

But if you really have your heart set on living in a ruined dystopia dominated by hostile artificial life-forms, have no fear. As Hamilton Nolan writes in "Radical Capital," a rogues gallery of worker-maiming corporations have asked a court to rule that the NLRB can't punish them for violating labor law:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/radical-capital

Trader Joe’s, Amazon, Starbucks and SpaceX have all made this argument to various courts. If they prevail, then there will be no one in charge of enforcing federal labor law. Yes, this will let these companies go on ruining their workers' lives, but more importantly, it will give carte blanche to every other employer in the land. At one end of this process is a boss who doesn't want to recognize a union – and at the other end are farmers dying of heat-stroke.

The right wing coalition that has put this demand before the court has all sorts of demands, from forced birth to (I kid you not), the end of recreational sex:

https://www.lawyersgunsmoneyblog.com/2024/02/getting-rid-of-birth-control-is-a-key-gop-agenda-item-for-the-second-trump-term

That coalition is backed by ultra-rich monopolists who want wreck the nation that their rank-and-file useful idiots want to wreck your body. These are the monopoly cheerleaders who gave us the abomination that is the Pharmacy Benefit Manager – a useless intermediary that gets to screw patients and pharmacists – and then let PBMs consolidate and merge with pharmacy monopolists.

One such inbred colossus is Change Healthcare, a giant PBM that is, in turn, a mere tendril of United Healthcare, which merged the company with Optum. The resulting system – held together with spit and wishful thinking – has access to the health records of a third of Americans and processes 15 billion prescriptions per day.

Or rather, it did process that amount – until the all-your-eggs-in-one-badly-maintained basket strategy failed on Wednesday, and Change's systems went down due to an unspecified "cybersecurity incident." In the short term, this meant that tens of millions of Americans who tried to refill their prescriptions were told to either pay cash or come back later (if you don't die first). That was the first shoe dropping. The second shoe is the medical records of a third of the country.

Don't worry, I'm sure those records are fine. After all, nothing says security like "merging several disparate legacy IT systems together while simultaneously laying off half your IT staff as surplus to requirements and an impediment to extracting a special dividend for the private equity owners who are, of course, widely recognized as the world's greatest information security practitioners."

Look, not everything is terrible. Some computers are actually getting better. Framework's user-serviceable, super-rugged, easy-to-repair, powerful laptops are the most exciting computers I've ever owned – or broken:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/13/graceful-failure/#frame

Now you can get one for $500!

https://frame.work/blog/first-framework-laptop-16-shipments-and-a-499-framework

And the next generation is turning our surprisingly well, despite all our worst efforts. My kid – now 16! – and I just launched our latest joint project, "The Sushi Chronicles," a small website recording our idiosyncratic scores for nearly every sushi restaurant in Burbank, Glendale, Studio City and North Hollywood:

https://sushichronicles.org/

This is the record of two years' worth of Daughter-Daddy sushi nights that started as a way to get my picky eater to try new things and has turned into the highlight of my week. If you're in the area and looking for a nice piece of fish, give it a spin (also, we belatedly realized that we've never reviewed our favorite place, Kuru Kuru in the CVS Plaza on North Hollywood Way – we'll be rectifying that soon).

And yes, we have a lavishly corrupt Supreme Court, but at least now everyone knows it. Glenn Haumann's even set up a Gofundme to raise money to bribe Clarence Thomas (now deleted, alas):

https://www.gofundme.com/f/pzhj4q-the-clarence-thomas-signing-bonus-fund-give-now

The funds are intended as a "signing bonus" in the event that Thomas takes up John Oliver on his offer of a $2.4m luxury RV and $1m/year for life if he'll resign from the court:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GE-VJrdHMug

This is truly one of Oliver's greatest bits, showcasing his mastery over the increasingly vital art of turning abstruse technical issues into entertainment that negates the performative complexity used by today's greatest villains to hide their misdeeds behind a Shield of Boringness (h/t Dana Clare).

The Bezzle is my contribution to turning abstruse scams into a high-impact technothriller that pierces that Shield of Boringness. The key to this is to master exposition, ignoring the (vastly overrated) rule that one must "show, not tell." Good exposition is hard to do, but when it works, it's amazing (as anyone who's read Neal Stephenson's 1,600-word explanation of how to eat Cap'n Crunch cereal in Cryptonomicon can attest). I wrote about this for Mary Robinette Kowal's "My Favorite Bit" this week:

https://maryrobinettekowal.com/journal/my-favorite-bit/my-favorite-bit-cory-doctorow-talks-about-the-bezzle/

Of course, an undisputed master of this form is Adam Conover, whose Adam Ruins Everything show helped invent it. Adam is joining me on stage in LA tomorrow night at Vroman's at 5:30PM, to host me in a book-tour event for my novel The Bezzle:

https://www.vromansbookstore.com/Cory-Doctorow-discusses-The-Bezzle

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/23/gazeteer/#out-of-cycle

Image: Peter Craven (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aggregate_output_%287637833962%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ Blossom of Affection | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: this is mostly fluff guys, a sprinkle of angst if you squint, idiots in love, more progress!, food ingestion. (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: We take another glimpse into yours and Jungkook's marriage and how things seem to be improving between you both. It all was perfect, it all was meant to last forever. That is his intention: to keep you by his side as Jungkook realised a truth his heart had known for quite sometime now. Affection bloomed in the desolated desert of the arrangement, now you both have to keep it and treasure that affection that morphed into something else without neither of you knowing about it.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N Hi guys! Welcome to the third chapter of "Sweet Marriage: A Handsome Husband Series" I hope you are as excited as I am for this part. I struggled a bit to write it as- well it's really fluffy and has the good stuff in it but I personally find it easier to write angst O.o

ALSO, thank you guys so much for 100 followers! You all make me so happy and I am over the moon there are people out there who enjoy my writing. I just finished writing this that I couldn't resist to publish it while also gifting you something for all the support I've received since I started this blog. Thank you so much, sweet ones! 💜💜💜

~ Let me know your thoughts in the comments please!

Drabbles are open for this series! 💜

Time seemed to fly when you were with Jungkook. It flew out of your hands, leaving you with sweet memories of shy smiles and delicate touches here and there.

Neither of you had brought the conversation with his parents at the restaurant. So it seemed that subject was clear, it would be explored in the future by the two of you. No-one else.

You were currently in the kitchen of the large apartment you shared with your handsome husband, you were looking down a list of ingredients and instructions as you were determined to cook Jungkook a nice meal for when he'd come home after work.

You wanted to surprise him, to thank him for all the soft attention he has had with you since the beginning of your married life alongside him. It was the least you could do and you sincerely hoped he'd like your little surprise and maybe allow you to do more things for him.

It was something you wanted, something your heart needed you to do. A soft smile was plastered on your face as you took out a knife from the drawer and prepared yourself to cut the vegetables.

The idea of making him something to eat came to you in the form of a YouTube video after having searched for tips for wives. And after reading the comments, you wanted to make something for Jungkook too. Hoping that he'd like what you'd cook for him.

"I already sent the report to Hoseok, he also confirmed the deal with Mr. Cha was closed. We expect the shipment to arrive on the 15th."

Jimin said, finishing his report to Jungkook. It was a normal day at the corporation, slightly busier than other days but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Thanks, Jimin-ah. If that was all, you may go."

The younger man began typing an email on his laptop for Mr. Cha thanking him for the deal they were able to pull together. Jungkook's eyes snapped forward, seeing as Jimin was still standing in front of his desk.

"Do you have anything else to tell me?"

The shorter man gave him a teasing smile that made Jungkook roll his eyes in an almost playful way as he shut down his laptop and paid his friend and colleague all his attention.

"Go on, spit it out."

Jimin was quick to take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of him. The eagerness radiated from his body like the heat from the sun.

"How are things going on? Between you and (y/n)?"

Jungkook sighed, his eyes locking momentarily on his silver wedding band around his finger.

"Fine, I guess."

Jimin clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Things cannot be just fine, Kook. In married life, things are either bad or good. Fine is practically a synonym for bad in this field, aish you still have a lot to learn."

The younger one frowned at his friend. He better have Mrs. Baek’s signature on the property contract instead of gossiping with him about his married life.

"Well, things are fine, Jimin. They are not perfect but they are not bad either. It is a slow progression."

"You wish for things to change yet you are scared of moving too fast, isn't it? I've met some couples in your same situation, Kookie, trust me it will get better."

Jungkook stared at his friend, there was a gleam in Jimin's eyes, his voice sounded more cheerful than usual.

"How do you know so much about married life when you are the most single person on Earth?"

Jimin laughed, throwing his head back as the sound resonated across the walls of the office.

"Coaches don't play, though I must admit I have played the game of love from time to time."

Jungkook's eyes widened. Rarely had his shorter friend spoken about his love life.

"But that is not the subject at hand, Kook. We are talking about your marriage, your love life."

The doe-eyed man let out a deep sigh, his mind raising with thoughts of you, memories he cherished deeply.

"Tell me, what is it about her that has you so enamoured?"

Jungkook thought for a moment, all those times he had felt his heart pound in his chest, when butterflies had fluttered in his stomach, when all his mind could think of was you and you alone.

"Everything about her, Jimin, is simply... mesmerising. I love her voice, her personality, that gleam in her eyes, the way she chews her bottom lip when she's writing, how she welcomes me home every day and waits for me no matter the time. Her mere existence is enough to make me happy. It's just... her."

Jimin smiled knowingly. Even when he could be seen as a flirt and sometimes a tease, he knew more about life than people often gave him credit for.

"You love her, don't you?"

The blond haired man said, almost as if stating it. He had once guessed the crush his friend had on his own wife; it wasn't difficult for him to tell when Jungkook, one of his most expressive friends, was in love.

The latter took a second to think about the statement. Only a second. He didn't need any longer as he nodded.

"I do. I think I have for a while, I just didn't want to... I don't know, accept it then tell her and for her to not accept my feelings."

Jungkook was aware of the name his heart screamed. It was now pointless to deny it any longer as he had voiced his feelings out loud. He was in love. He loved you. Something as normal as love in a married man was as foreign as water on Mars for him.

Sometimes Jungkook wished his marriage hadn't been arranged. He, more times than often thought about different ways he could have met you, made you fall in love with him and then marry you. But his parents had complicated everything, he had started that cycle from the back and now it was tough to approach step two: make you love him.

But maybe, if his parents hadn't married him off, perhaps he'd have never met you. You both would have existed like parallel lines, living the same timeline but never meant to meet.

Jungkook's wish was for you to love him. He thought he had to make you fall in love with him without knowing that in your heart, his name was engraved in the golden letters of forever.

You had just finished cooking some Japchae for when your husband came home. You were really proud of the final result and now you only had to wait for Jungkook to come back.

Giving that he had been leaving the company earlier than before, you didn't doubt that he'd be home by dinner time. Now you just had to wait a bit, killing some time while giving your novel a final read.

The clock ticked by slowly, as if your life was in slow motion. But then you heard it, the electronic lock unlocked with its usual noise, the door opened and in came Jungkook. You smiled, a motion that you couldn't stop. As involuntary as the beating of your heart. As inevitable as the rising of the sun every morning and the moon rising at night.

It just happened. Existed in and on itself. Like your love for your husband that was kept in unsaid words and longing gazes.

"You're back early."

Was what you said as you stood up from the couch and walked towards the main entrance. He smiled at you. In a soft way. Delicate. Like a rose petal.

Jungkook didn't know what to say, he was so happy with seeing you that all the words he had previously rehearsed in his mind were erased. As if white paint had fallen over a canvas. Hiding every trace of his thoughts. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, a gleam in his eyes found your own (e/c) pools.

He didn't say anything. No words would have been enough to express what he was feeling. There was no way to describe such emotions. Jungkook extended his arm towards you and you gasped as you saw what he held in his left hand, the silver wedding band in his finger stole your attention for a moment before your focus was on the bouquet of sunflowers he presented to you.

"Kook."

That nickname again. It escaped your lips without you noticing it. Not that he minded, a soft blush dusted his cheeks and butterflies swarmed in his stomach when your fingers grazed his own as you took the bouquet from his hold.

"I was on my way home when I saw the flowers and thought of you."

You smiled, trying to hide the gesture behind the beautiful yellow flowers. Butterflies flew in your stomach at his words. The look in his doe-eyes made you flustered.

"I really like them, thank you."

Jungkook looked down as a smile grew on his face as well. The moment itself was perfect, innocent in its own way. Romantic in the name of love. Pure.

"I... I also have something for you."

You said before biting your lower lip. You felt a sudden nervousness creep up your spine at the thought of presenting your dinner to your husband whom you married as a stranger yet now owned your mind and heart like he couldn't imagine.

"You do?"

He asked, impressed. Lifting an eyebrow in curiosity, he gazed into your eyes with sincerity and happiness. A concept that made you nod, not being able to word out your raging thoughts.

Your hand took a hold of his own. You burned at his touch and your heart sped up, you walked toward the dining room taking Jungkook with you. He couldn't help the eagerness that cursed through his body. A smile on his lips as he followed you across the apartment.

"I made you some dinner. I hope you will like it."

He smiled. How could he not? He looked down at you and if you had looked at him that exact moment you'd have seen the absolute adoration his heart held for you. The woman who was able to call herself his wife.

"Why don't you put your flowers in a vase and join me for dinner?"

You nodded, suddenly remembering that your hand was still holding his. You retrieved it from his hold and walked back to the kitchen, trying to hide your very obvious blush over your cheeks.

Jungkook chuckled to himself at your reaction while his heart swelled with love at the surprise you had for him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wished for this precise moment to happen as he had often heard some of his colleagues and employees - married men at that- comment about their respective wives' cooking.

Leaving the misogyny aside, he loved the thought. A soft act of service. A gentle reminder of love, an existing pattern of compromise.

You returned to the dining room carrying a heavy looking vase where the sunflowers rested. You put it on the centre of the table and turned to look at your husband, a nervous smile on your face, one that he'd describe as cute, was painted over your lips.

"I hope you are in the mood for some japchae."

Jungkook sat in front of you on the dining table. There was a plate with japchae in front of him as well as a bowl of white rice and a bottle of soju to enjoy. It was silent between you both, the only thing that could be heard in the grand space was the sound of cutlery hitting the plates, of soju being poured and some sighs at the delicious taste of the food.

"You... This is so good, (y/n)."

Exclaimed your husband, you chuckled at his reaction as you watched him enjoy the prepared glass noodles with a frown of pleasure between his brows. A gesture you couldn’t help but find cute. 

"I'm glad you liked it. You can thank @tradiKfood on YouTube for the recipe."

He snorted, cheeks puffy with food and you laughed at his reaction. Jungkook noticed how much he liked that sound. Your laughter. It was sweet and breathy; refreshing like an autumn breeze on the beach during the early hours of the day. It sounded so carefree and safe. Genuine.

If you had been able to read his mind you'd have noticed how he vowed to himself to always make sure to hear that laughter. So joyous. So you.

"By the way, I have an appointment with my editor tomorrow."

He raised an eyebrow at you, swallowing his mouthful of food before saying, placing his chopsticks next to his bowl of rice.

"Really? Did you already finish your next book?"

You nodded in happiness and Jungkook couldn't feel more proud of you. He had read your first novel before you became his wife and he thought it was written so beautifully. The plot was amazing and the characterization was made with expertise. That was what he had thought. And that idea was still settled in his mind up until today.

You were a talented writer and he was sure you were going to get far with your amazing stories but he knew he'd be damned if he didn't offer you every kind of support at his reach to make your dreams come true.

"I did. I actually like how it ended, you know? I hope Mrs. Ming will share that thought with me."

He offered you a soft smile. And you took a second to marvel at how handsome your husband truly was. He had taken off his jacket, leaving him in only his white shirt with the first buttons open as well as rolled sleeves that revealed his inked art on his right arm. His dark hair was a bit dishevelled as he had run his hands over it once or twice since he arrived home.

His back faced the large windows that gave away the mesmerising view of the city lights, the moon was high on the night sky and the stars were in his big eyes.

"I wish I could read it."

You looked down at your unfinished bowl of rice as you tried to suppress a smile, a gesture that eventually marked your beautiful features.

"You can, once it's out."

You looked up at the sound of him clicking his tongue only to laugh at his expression, brows furrowed and lips pouting. He looked cute. And that was saying something given how hot and handsome he looked at that moment.

"I know it will be amazing."

His words warmed your heart. The love for your work had come to you in many ways but to hear such praise from your husband who you were madly in love with meant the entire world to you. Maybe even more.

"Thanks, Kook."

He smiled. Absolutely loving how that nickname sounded on your lips. He wanted to hear it every day, every morning when he woke up and every night when he came back from work. It meant something because it was you who were saying it. You made it special, like a magic charm only you had over his life.

Enchanting his days, bewitching his soul, transfiguring his life as the owner of his heart.

The night was still young. You were curled over the couch, eyes trained on the large TV hanging from the wall as you watched a movie. But this time it was different all because of a certain someone sitting next to you. And that someone was Jungkook.

He had also changed into more comfortable clothes, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt on. You wore your soft and comfortable nightgown in a light shade of blue.

The two of you decided to watch a movie before going to sleep. He suggested it, you accepted. With the one and only purpose to be close to him for a bit longer, even if you two weren't talking, if you weren't directly seeing him, the quality time still counted and fuelled your heart.

Jungkook felt how his heart sped up when you sat next to him on the couch, your eyes were trained on the large screen but he was going to enjoy this time with you. This indirect coexistence. It was natural on its own, lovely so as to describe it somehow.

You tucked your knees up to your chest, completely invested in the plot of the movie unaware of the soft and longing gazes your husband sent your way from now and then.

Is this how it feels?

Jungkook asked himself as his dark eyes rested on your side profile, the movie plot could be damned as he had the most beautiful woman on earth sitting right next to him.

Is this how it is to fall in love?

You smiled at the screen, laughing softly at one of the dialogues he didn't hear. You turned to look at him, a smile on your face and he felt how his world stopped turning. It was magical. Like a spell you casted over him. Like a sweet candy after taking a sour medicine.

You bit your lip and directed your gaze back to the TV but your focus was on your husband. He occupied your mind, owned your thoughts, claimed your soul without knowing. Your heart soared at the fact of having him so close.

So close yet so far. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you needed him to know, things you wished to speak about. But he was unreachable in that level of intimacy. Something you wish to break and you thought that the crystal wall that existed between you both was already cracking. Cracking with the dagger of love. Of the blossom of affection that began to grow in between the marriage.

"Love is not something to be ashamed of, you should tell her."

Said one of the characters in the movie. That single sentence of dialogue felt like a punch to reality for Jungkook. Should he really tell you?

"But what if she doesn't love me back? I prefer to love her in silence, in silence there is no refusal on her part."

This movie was getting too personal for Jungkook. Those thoughts had also swarmed in his head for so long. Days in which his mind was plagued with the image of you, when your voice spoke his thoughts and your presence invaded his heart.

He looked at you softly, watching how you relaxed on the couch and covered your mouth with the back of your hand as you yawned.

"It's late, (y/n). Do you want to go to bed?"

But you shook your head, a sleepy expression on your face as you looked at your husband, loving the caring tone in his voice.

"No, I wanna see when he confesses."

He chuckled, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"You can always watch it later, it's on Netflix for a reason."

You shook your head again, a cute pout over your lips.

"But I want to watch it with you."

That left him speechless. His mind was blank, an empty canvas with no words for him to express freely. You did that to him, that and other many things he had only experimented with you by his side.

Jungkook lifted his arm and rested it on the back of the couch before his hand took a hold of your shoulder as he pushed you towards him. It was a bold move. You gasped. Thankful that the flat was swimming in darkness so that your husband couldn't see your pretty obvious blush painting your cheeks.

A second passed in silence, then another and another. Maybe a minute or it could have been an hour in which the both of you stayed there, too stunned to speak, too afraid to break the moment.

"Just relax, if you fall asleep you could fall off the couch and hurt yourself."

Lame, he thought to himself. Jungkook mentally slapped himself at the weak excuse he said, he thought it was stupid. His brain malfunctioned when you were this close yet it also pressured him to say something so as to break any crumbs of awkwardness between you both.

"Thanks."

You replied, feeling your skin burning where he touched you, tingles travelled up your spine and along your body. It was magical. Perfect. As if he had planned it all completely when it had only been a spur of the moment.

After some time leaning against Jungkook, you relaxed completely so as to rest your head on his shoulder. The motion made his breath hitch in his throat. He was the most fortunate man in that moment, in that fragment of time for he was able to hold you and keep you close.

You trusted him, you were safe being near him and that made his heart soar with happiness. The simple fact that you stayed by his side willingly made him feel happiness like never before. Fortunate. Lucky. Chosen.

The one and only man who was destined to love you, he was meant to worship you as his wife, to protect you from the world and to give you all the love he was physically capable of carrying in his heart.

The soft patter of rain against the large windows reached his ears and calmed his soul. It was perfect, that exact moment was absolute and pure perfection. The definition of that word was that moment, with light rain falling over Seoul, a nice movie as background noise with you cuddled by his side in cosy clothes. 

Jungkook felt your body lean further into him as you grew lax in his embrace, the soft sound of your calming breathing made him smile, squeezing your shoulder a bit from where his hand rested against you. He knew you were tired but the mere thought of you wanting to stay a bit longer by his side warmed his heart. 

He looked down at you, eyes trailing over your sleeping figure. He smiled in adoration, in contemplation, in admiration. In love. 

As discreetly as possible he paused the movie and turned the TV off, leaving the apartment in an aerie silence. Only the sound of rain along with this racing heart were heard. His inked hand caressed your cheek in a delicate motion. Almost as if you were a glass doll and he was afraid of breaking you. 

Because you were so precious to him, his perfect gem he ought to keep, love and protect. As a husband, as your lover but most importantly, as your man. For he was already yours even if, in the end, you’d change your mind and left him with his own memories of you. He was yours. In this life and the next one. 

When Jungkook loved, he loved hard. Completely. Wholeheartedly. And now, you were the owner of that love. 

Your skin was soft under his touch, slightly chilly from the coolness of the flat but soft nonetheless. As soft as he had ever touched in his life. Jungkook lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with precise yet gentle movements as he began walking towards your shared bedroom. 

Passing Bam’s house on the way, he smiled at his already sleeping Dobermann before resuming his destination while carrying you in his arms. If you had been awake at that moment, you’d have heard the loud thumping of his heart beneath his ribcage. It was such a strong motion Jungkook feared for a second his heart was going to leave its confinement.

He laid you down on the bed delicately, making sure you were comfortable enough before he climbed on his side of the bed and dropped the cover over you both, chasing the chill away and enveloping you in a warmth that dropped you further into the land of dreams.

His hand found your own underneath the blankets, long fingers trailed softly over your wedding band. The sign to the world that you belong with Jungkook. A promise of respect and love; of sincerity and happiness. 

“I love you, (y/n).”

Those whispered words were meant for your ears only, but not yet for your mind to comprehend. However, Jungkook couldn’t live another minute on this Earth without him speaking such words of adoration. 

The whisper was so soft that only he could hear it, afraid that if he spoke any louder the perfect moment would shatter like a glass colliding with the merciless reality. He wished to persevere in your affection, a blooming love that grew in between the cracks of a twisted marriage. 

“I love you so much, my (y/n).”

You turned to him in your sleep and had it not been for the darkness of the bedroom, the blush in his cheeks would have been evident as you pressed yourself to his chest, your face nuzzled into him as you sighed in your unconscious state. Almost as if you had heard him declare his love for you, perhaps you had. But he couldn’t know that. 

It was a simple assumption that pierced his thoughts over the blossom of affection between you two. Between husband and wife and the slits of unspoken love in the middle of the relationship. 

Maybe it had been arranged, but that doesn’t mean the feelings were fake. It was a move of fate, a destined meeting. The blooming of care and its transformation to love. It all happened for a reason, and there was nothing Jungkook desired more than for you to stay by his side forever and claim that place next to him; the place of his wife. Loved by her husband in a world of lies and vanities but with affection still able to bloom and grow in the depths of his heart that only screamed your name.

~Masterpost

Sept/17/2023

~ Drabbles are open for this au! My inbox is open, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[ntls-24722]

I was thinking about @/artastic-friend's tags on my Comet post, and, first off thank you it was really sweet, but I had also realized that I wasn't even on tumblr to show the REEEAAALLY early designs of Comet, so here they are!

Comet had gone through a lot of changes, the most important one being... not looking exactly like DJMM! Comet originally looked exactly like DJMM since a good 80% of her body used to actually be mechanical, and her organism part was... very minimal and degenerate. But I very quickly found that lame - what's the pizzazz in being ~secretly a manmade organism~ if most of you is still mechanical anyway? I found an old picture of her transition from this (i apologize for the low quality, but much of the old sketches are super smudged n junk.) She still had motors and but much more of her internals filled up the plastic exoskeleton's empty space.

A detail i had actually forgotten now that I read back through old messages and pictures is that she used to be compatible with eating/drinking gasoline AND actual food? She had microbes that could eat it in her stomach and then she'd eat THOSE microbes like a cow??? that was kinda sick, past me, good job.

Comet's actual face being striped originated from her bony skeleton being full of bigbig holes (shown below, left) - they were meant to just be the frame for the plastic cover, but when the mechanical parts were taken out the holes condensed into stripes (shown below, right), partially being inspired from this Clownsuu post (AUGH ITS SO COOOOOL)

The 10 eyes thing stuck because it was like... representative of her kids' souls being infused with hers after she unknowingly ingested them after brain surgery?

She didn't like, pick them up and start chowing on her own children like you would with a bunch of dry cereal - in order to make the Comets less resource-needy the Oort Cloud would give some of the remnant they produced back to them? When Comet found out where it came from and where one of her missing kids went, she refused to eat or sleep at all until she almost died of exhaustion and finally went unconcious. The Oort Cloud took advantage of the fact she was finally not resisting and did the surgery as she slept. She didn't remember anything when she woke up and... ate for the first time in awhile not knowing what was in it, or that she even had kids in the first place.

Making the surgery easier is actually why the side of her head in this picture is exposed and Boneless (in some pictures there's actually huge stitches on there, too) but i realized that any behavioral disruptions would be directed to the frontal lobe, and that's why Modern comet actually has this little plate right between her eyes - that plate of exoskeleton is actually slightly loose and you can take it off n put it right back on for the least amount of scarring. It's also why Luz and Zoey don't have it.

For some reason I chose a marching band theme for her, maybe to cover up her skeleton-y Beneathness, and that is what made her into the star-spangled DJMM we know today. I chose a space-y theme since the Plex is.... somewhat space themed? Not entirely sure why but I'm glad I did it. She was intially accented with minty blue rather than the bold one she is now. This is where she also got her name, though it was initially "Comet Music Man."

She used to, temporarily, also have a 4 pairs of antennae coming from her wrists. I took it out cuz i couldn't find a reason for them

Comet wasn't based on any particular spider BUT there was the initial concept of having her be based off of the mirror spider and have a.... disco ball butt (you can kinda see it in the skeleton face pic) But in another universe, She could've been a spiny orb weaver, or a scorpion-tailed spider.

I did sometimes COMPLETELY go south with how her Beneath would look like in favor of a soft, fleshy interior, and I made...this! I hated it and I'm forever glad I didn't decide to go with this! jesus christ!

There were also the origins of the little harpoons - I had a headcanon that DJMM has little pedipalps on the inside of his mouth that looked like little STAFFbot hands and that got integrated with Comet, too

Alsoalso: the Neck

Couldn't figure out how to do it for a long time, since it's long and dragon-y and flexible and curvy, which is why half of it was exposed skin for awhile. In this outdated organ diagram i actually made the neck a bunch of layered "bowls" like one of those rainbow slug toys (not that you can.... see much of it lol) (also old sona jumpscare HOOH)

There's probably more considering Comet is now a year old and also her entire universe and story got REALLY derailed from a oneshot self-insert fic that i never even finished (the contents of which actually are why Comet and Fritz live where they are, in some abandoned factory - it was Fritz and DJMM's hideout) (also, Fritz predates Comet by a lot) because i thought WAYYYYY tooo hard about the implications of DJ Music Man, the giant spider, being alive

("what are you? are you a species or were you created? for what? By who? why are you pretending to be a robot? Are you pretending? What do you eat, and what's feeding you? Do you need to? Why do you have to be alive, and not an animatronic like everything else?) (also technically Bighand is just the alternate and anticlimatic version where he's just like "yeah I'm alive and I just work here") (both leave bc it sucks)

bonus patch notes that I couldn't cover:

neck became attached further up the head instead of below the jaw because keeping it the way it was was... not good

ALL of her became metallic-looking

She went from being a mirror spider to a sparklemuffin spider because of the coincidence that those spiders had the same yellow stripes from their eyes as she does.

The antennae became just 1 pair because the fact she had 2 pairs was also unnecessary

She used to have 2 little flesh strands from her top jaw and bottom jaw. They served no purpose only to get in the way of things so I got rid of them.

Her dewlap used to have music notes, stars, and lines

The tongue went from being thick n long to being flat and rounded. Fits in the mouth better

[bijouxcarys]

Fine Wine (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Description: Our fiery OC from Cherry Lips receives a call from the man she's seen the world with, after months of distancing himself. She may just be the medicine he needs in his time of uncertainty…

Word Count: 6.5k

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @firethatgrewsolow @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull @chromations @angrychicksposts @friccinfricks @inanebula

He was greeted with an icy draft as he pushed open his door. A stark contrast to where he’d been two hours prior. A fleeting bask in the heat of his past. But that’s all it was. Fleeting. In the past.

Robert knew it had to happen. Ahmet would have enjoyed seeing the lads back together, even if it was just for one last show. It was necessary to remind himself of that fact, otherwise the work gone into the past month would be for nothing. Though, his brain—that guy up there—tried to convince the rest of him that it was truly fruitless. And he knew what he’d have to deal with for the next year or so…

Robert, is there any chance of a Zeppelin tour again?

Mr Plant, how did it feel to be up there again?

Do you think Jason lived up to his father’s name?

Are you and Jimmy planning on working together again?

What’s your relationship like with John Paul Jones?

Why wasn’t Stairway To Heaven released as a single?

How do you think your voice has changed?

Robert, why don’t you want to talk about Led Zeppelin?

Bob, can you sign this for me? Bob?! Who the fuck do you think you are, mate? You’re only gunna sell it on eBay.

Scratching at his head, Robert reluctantly turned the light on, revealing his current home exactly how he left it. Hah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s nobody here to disturb it…

There was so much of the world he still needed to discover, to figure out. More music out there to be made. So much bigger than the walls of this London flat sat high up in a building full of more flats, with even more people, with even more stories–Oh, shit, are you Robert Plant? I need to call my best friend and tell her you live right near me!

Thankfully, that common situation was less common in the area he chose to live. It made him feel dirty, buying such a luxurious flat in such a well-established complex. Some called it a penthouse, but no, that was two floors up. Alas, he did have a pleasant view of… the city. Okay, maybe not that, but at least he could go for a walk to the nearest coffee shop… Okay, maybe he couldn’t have that human experience, either. 

To think that 34 years ago, he would be in the deep end, engaging in whatever post-show debauchery the band could muster up, and now he was here… A 59-year-old man unable to escape the 25-year-old boy that hadn’t experienced the true meaning of heartbreak yet. He was free, seeing everything in bold, whilst now he lived in a precarious state push and pull.

Desperately wishing for the world to see him as Robert Plant the musician, as opposed to Percy of Led Zeppelin.

Oh. There it is… There lies the conflict—his conflict. If he was hell-bent on enjoying music in all forms, being who he was at heart, why on Earth was he sitting on the edge of his bed, curtains drawn, dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t, in fact, Percy anymore?

Nobody told him the truth. Nobody told him when he was wrong, how he could improve himself. With the odd exception, there wasn’t a single person he came across in his ventures of life, who didn’t automatically compare him to, what he considered, that peacock prick of the 70s.

However, be that as it may, the audacity of Percy still ran rampant through Robert’s veins. If there was one thing age taught him, it was to grab life by the horns, come hell or come victory.

In his self-pity, still slightly buzzed from the bit of alcohol he’d already ingested that night, he took the leap in finding that familiar contact name in his phone, holding it to his ear as the dial tone held his breath with its frequencies.

Her phone rang just as she was about to take her first sip of wine, idly wandering in the kitchen of her sleekly designed flat. Half expecting it to be another call from the supervisor, she answered with an exasperated “Hello?,” bypassing the sensical act of glancing at the caller ID.

“Cherry…” he rasped, the name tasting bittersweet on his tongue.

Stiffening her posture, her previously tired eyes had blown open at the voice on the other end, as clear and crisp as it was in person. “Robert?”

“Cherry,” he repeated the silly nickname he’d given her a decade prior.

“Uh…” Delicately setting her wine glass back on the counter, she leaned against it, quizzically dropping her eyes to the floor. “This is unexpected…” She heard a gruff sigh, followed by some movement, coming from his end.

“I’m sorry…” he apologised, running a hand over his face as he stared out of his bedroom window. His phone felt heavy in his hand, bearing the weight of his audacity. Audacity he knew he should have kept at bay. “I guess age makes ya more of an arsehole…” he mumbled.

“Age? What are you talking about? Are you alright?”

“I’m as alright as an old man can be…”

“Your crypticism isn’t helping you seem less like an arsehole, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Rolling her eyes, she moved to grab her wine again, making her way over to the sofa.

A lengthy pause followed. There’s a reason they describe silence as deafening. It irritated her to no end; she was able to take two whole sips of her wine during the time he left her in this ominous limbo.

“Why are you calling me?” she finally asked through a sigh, perching herself on the arm of her sofa, swirling the fragile liquid in her glass.

“Just… wanted to talk.” His words were unconvincing. Like a stroppy teenager insisting they want the beef stew bubbling on the stove, all whilst eyeing the takeaway menu on the fridge. She could read him, even through the phone. Plenty of practice by now.

“Well, so far it’s just been me talking…” She waited for an answer, even checking her phone to see that they were still connected. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up…”

“Okay, and I’m currently in Russia,” she responded dryly.

“Are you?”

“Seriously, Robert?” she huffed, scrunching her eyebrows up at his atypical ignorance. “Look, if you’re not going to tell me why you really called me, I’ll just hang up, I’ve got zero patience for this right now.”

Yes, that’s it… Tell me I’m wrong. Give it to me straight. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he dropped his head in relief.

“Please tell me what’s wrong…” Her voice softened, almost mimicking a beg.

He chewed his lip, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. Was he really this pathetic that he needed a woman to come over and make this already stressful evening a little less gruelling? Well, yes, he was. To him, at least.

“Do you, uh… think you’d be able to come over?” His voice faltered.

Pausing mid-sip, she double checked that she was hearing things right. That her ears weren’t playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be that outlandish to suggest auditory hallucinations at this point; it was bizarre enough that he was calling her in the first place. “You want me to come over? As in… to you? Right now?”

“Please…”

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic outside Robert’s window. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for her reply, acutely aware that he was asking a lot.

Finally, she broke the silence with a soft exhale, her voice tinged in a subtle mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “I guess I could… Why do you want me to come?”

Robert’s mind raced, searching for the right words to explain the tumult of emotions swirling within him. “I… I just need somebody,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone who won’t sugar coat things… Someone who knows me.”

She felt her heart stumble at his vulnerability, how fragile his voice sounded on the other end of the phone. Despite the fact that their interactions had become sparse over the last year, she couldn’t ignore the connection that still lingered between them, forged in the crucible of the years they’d spent in each other’s company.

Without another word, she made a decision, fuelled by compassion: rarely felt, but cherished when present. “Alright,” she said softly, her resolve firm. “I’ll come over. But you have to promise me something…”

A spark of hope ignited within Robert’s chest as he listened intently, hanging on her every word.

“...You have to tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t try and downplay it, either. Deal?”

A wave of relief washed over Robert as he nodded, a sense of gratitude playing eagerly at his heart. “Deal,” he agreed.

That leads them to the present, sat across from one another in his living room. Neither of them knew how the night would end, but all Robert knew was that he appreciated her willingness to come over at all.

“I thought you might have been out,” she speculated, accepting a glass of wine as a gallant replacement of the one she had to pour down the sink at home. Robert immediately shook his head, resting into the sofa with a hand rubbing around his bristly beard, unknowingly complimenting his fine wine allure. “Didn’t fancy another rodeo, huh?” she wittingly asked.

“I should imagine Jonesy’s all cosied up with Mo by now. Don’t know if I can say the same about Jimmy, though,” he huffed through a rueful laugh.

Biting her lip, she smirked to herself at his implication that Jimmy hadn’t lost his wild streak. “Well, I think it would be rather bizarre if Jimmy was with John’s wife right now, don’t you?” Injecting a bit of light into the atmosphere with her jesting tone, her smile grew with Robert’s in response.

Robert’s gaze lingered on her, from the light dimples on her cheeks, to the lips he would kill for. Though, now, they remained painted with a more natural tone as opposed to the deep cherry tint he associated with her. So beautiful.

She had to admit, upon noticing his wandering eyes, a familiar flicker kindled in her stomach, taking her back to the moment he first surveyed her from afar, all those years ago. “So…” she breathed, angling forward with her elbow resting into the cushiony surface of the chair arm, adjacent to the matching sofa Robert had relaxed on. Nestling her chin into her hand, she studied him. “What’s going on?”

Smile falling slightly, Robert cleared his throat and took a sip from his wine. It was discernible how desperately he was clambering to find the words, thoughts racing a millions miles a minute.

“Robert, I can’t help you if you don’t tell m–”

“Do you think I’ve lost my looks?”

Now, she wasn’t expecting that one. 

Anyone who took one transient careen at him instantly concluded that Robert Plant knew of his appeal. So aware of his allure, it bordered on arrogance. He always played the game, no questions asked.

She let out an unintentional scoff, amused by his inquiry. Surely, he wasn’t serious. However, upon leering into his eyes a moment longer, she quickly realised he was being anything but frivolous.

Through a fated smirk, she asked him, “Is that really what you’re so upset about right now?”

He winced, huffing as he shifted on the sofa. “Not really. Well–yes, but no…”

“My God, men are so indecisive.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he shot back with a boyish grin.

“Stop,” she pointed her finger at him. “Stop being so charming and funny, it doesn’t work on me.”

“Are you sure about that, darlin’?”

“You’re diverting.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who called after not bothering for months on end, am I?” And…there it is. 

He knew this was going to come up at some point, and he was inclined to agree with the vexation it bestowed upon her. As he kept his eyes firmly locked on hers, he saw as clear as day the betrayal that encompassed her. Perhaps a strong word for their situation, but the hurt in her eyes spoke of nothing less.

“Cherry… I’m sor—“

“That seems to be the only word you know lately, Robert,” she interrupted him coolly. “Y’know, I came over because you sounded upset, and believe it or not, I still care about you.” She rose from the seat, making steady back and forth paces across his flat. “God knows why I care about you, but I do.”

Robert parted his lips to speak, but she kept going.

“Do you know how happy I was when I got your text the other month?” she asked, turning to look at him. “Even if it was just to say happy birthday.” She shrugged. “Maybe some tiny little part of me wished that you’d have kept in touch, but then I came to my senses and realised that you’re Robert fucking Plant!” She chuckled airily, running her hand through her hair.

His gaze fell to the floor, pondering her words like a bout of bad news. With a swallow, he slowly responded. “And why is Robert Plant so different?” Her scoff brought his eyes back to hers.

Then, almost as if it pained her to utter the words, a stern gleam in those big brown eyes, she answered with the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth.

“…Because nobody comes close… to being like you.”

Compliments. More compliments. He shook his head with an exasperated resolve.

“No, don’t shake your head, when you know it’s the truth.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped a little closer to him, staring him down like a predator cornering its prey. “So I’m gonna ask you again…” she uttered, “What’s wrong?”

“I told you—“

“You asked me if I thought you’d lost your looks, you told me nothi—“

“I’m old!” He finally snapped, voice uncharacteristically raising. Distressed. Vulnerable. He shot up from the sofa, peering down at her with hesitant eyes. “All those people who came to see me tonight,” he pointed in the direction of the window, “They wanted to see that bare-chested young lad strutting around the stage and wailing like a newborn fuckin’ lamb!”

Robert breathed out heavily. It was his turn to start pacing, everything that had built up all evening practically spilling out of him like nickels from a glass bottle.

“Ya know, I’ve tried for the past 25 years to not be that anymore, to get as far away as I possibly could from all the bollocks, but tonight was a real fuckin’ grim reminder that all anyone ever cares about is my name!”

She’d never seen him this irate. He had his moments, irritable and unsatisfied with certain situations and people around him, but never failed to remain calm and respectful at all costs. The man she watched bounce back and forth in the dim light of his very un-Robert-esq home was the personification of a life lived to the fullest, only to reach a point in which there seemed very little left.

“Robert, I—“

“I realise I’m a massive fuckin’ hypocrite, by the way—being upset about people always expecting the young, virile Robert Plant, but also wishing I could have been that tonight.” Spinning on his heel to make another lap of the room, he was halted when she stepped in front of him, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. “Does any of that make sense, Cherry? Or am I going bonkers?” he asked with a hushed tone.

Sighing, she looked over his attire. Silky shirt with some sensible black slacks, encasing a body that displayed his advancing age. The lines on his face spoke of an earthy wisdom and a lifetime of laughter. Hair, previously a vivacious blonde, now faultlessly whisked with an ashy tint. His stomach was no longer landscaped, and one could no longer catch the intensity of his muscular build.

No, he wasn’t what the world instantly pictured when faced with his name. But he was still, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

“Robert…” she breathed, bringing a hand up to gently trace the pads of her fingers over his beard, along his jaw, before stopping to place her hand flat against the side of his face. “My sweet, darling Robert… You have no idea, do you?” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she took in the edges of his features, how the blue in his eyes still shone brighter than any star in the sky.

The warmth of her hand against his skin made him weak. His eyes hooded, and he found himself instinctively resting into her touch. “About what?” he replied, matching her tone. His hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her near.

Endearing was the word that sprung to mind. He was so endearing at that moment. So naively heedless. She couldn’t help but smile, as if a whole new light was gleaming down on him. Layers she had never been able to peel away were now crumbling at the lightest touch.

“How perfect you are…”

“I’m far from perfect.”

“Maybe not by the official definition,” she agreed. “But my definition… it’s all you, Robert.” 

Any anger she may have felt for his distancing himself, any iota of annoyance at his unintentional ignorance, was insignificant when compared to the kind of love she felt for this man. “I don’t care how old you are. I mean, you’re not even that old,” she chuckled. “I don’t care that you’re not… Percy, or however you want to describe yourself back then.”

Robert’s eyes shut as he gently rested his forehead against hers, hands lowering to grip onto her waist like he’d never get to again.

“I never knew you as that person, and I don’t want to. Because the man that’s been in my life for the past 10 years has given me more to live for than any arrogant little peacock could,” she grinned at her own wording, knowing she was using his own opinion of himself as ammunition. He picked up on it, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat.

“And let’s not forget,” she smirked, snaking her arms over his shoulders. “A lot of girls have a preference for older men, Robert, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the ideal. Plus, we don’t call you Daddy for no reason…” she giggled.

Even through his subdued demeanour, a tint of light pink coloured his cheeks; he hid it by dropping his head to her shoulder, tilting to take in her scent. “I don’t care about a lot of girls right now…” His words were muffled, but the way his lips gently tickled the side of her neck spoke for him.

“Robert?”

He lifted his head to look down at her. “Hm?”

“You’re beautiful,” she told him firmly. “Okay? I don’t ever want to hear you saying otherwise, because it’s bollocks. Pure bollocks. Alright?” 

Okay, well maybe one person tells me the truth…

With a smile, he bit his lip and nodded, willing to take any word that fell from her perfect lips as gospel.

“Good.”

“Can I kiss you now, or am I still in troub–”

She cut him off with a heady kiss, hand holding the back of his head and fingers gripping at his corkscrew locks. A sigh of relief fell from him as he mirrored the passion, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to cradle her, encompassing her in his hold. His own fingers made a venture, delicately threading through her thick hair.

Eventually, he found himself backing her in the direction of his bedroom, willing footsteps following his lead. She didn’t even have to give herself to him. All she needed to do to keep his mind at bay, stop the intrusive thoughts from swirling in the recesses of his rapid mind, was be there.

But his Cherry was always insatiable, no matter the situation she found herself in. Like his own, her libido intensified in her 30s, and he deemed himself lucky to be on the receiving end of such licentious longing.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” she hummed as Robert trailed his kisses along her cheek, eventually stopping at her neck. “When I got home from work, I wasn’t expecting anything like this to be happening tonight.” His bristly facial hair was tough against her skin, but provided a stimulating tingle nonetheless.

Chuckling, he nipped at her neck and guided her further backwards until she had no choice but to let her weight fall onto the bed, his following suit. His face hovered closely over hers, taking in her features. Admiring. Silently worshipping. She was everything.

“What?” she whispered up at him, stroking her thumb over his cheek.

Shaking his head, a small smile appeared on his lips. “Nothing… Just happy you’re here. With me.”

She huffed out a small laugh, placing a barely-there kiss to the tip of his nose, before nudging him to lay down so she could settle on top of him, legs trapping him under her. Using her hand flat on the bed beside his head, she propped herself up as she lingered over him. His hands were urgent as they gripped onto her hips, needily pressing his fingers against her curves. God, he wanted her so bad… It was next to impossible to be in the same room as her and not experience the familiar twitch below. That bloody blazer… She made every article of clothing look perfect, and she looked perfect wearing them.

Clocking his distracted gaze with a smirk, she smoothly brushed stray curls from his face. “What do you want, Robert?” she whispered, watching the way his eyes dilated and flickered through a mirage of emotions. “Tell me…” she encouraged, her lower lip slipping between her teeth in anticipation of his answer—an answer she was certain she could predict.

He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t want you to think it’s all I called you over for, darlin’...”

She responded with a sweet smile and an airy laugh, shaking her head. “Hmm, no…” she mumbled, glancing down at his lips. “You told me why you called me over…” Lowering her face to his, their lips narrowly skimmed over one another. 

“Now, I need you to tell me why you want me to stay…” Her voice had dropped to a sultry whisper, accompanied with a bold shift of her hips.

Jaw clenching, his grip on her tightened, goading her to keep up with her movements, to which she complied. “You really want to know, luv?” he gruffly asked.

“Dying to know…” she replied through a breathy sigh and a subtle smirk.

It seemed a mere millisecond had passed before one of his hands came up to hold onto the back of her head, pulling her down so he could speak directly into her ear.

“I want to feel you again,” he began, inching his other hand steadily from her hip in the direction of her backside. Guiding the paced movements she was still conducting. “Want to feel you forever,” he continued, words muffled against her.

By now, the strength keeping her propped up had waned and she found herself collapsing against him, once again completely wrapped up in his embrace, adhering to his ministrations, playing into his hands.

“I miss the way you wrap around me, baby,” he kept talking, barely realising each syllable sparked flutters between her legs. “And how sweet you taste…” Maybe he’d forgotten how much she enjoyed his voice in these intimate moments, but as she continued the rolling motion of her hips, the friction against her heightening arousal dragged a choked moan from her throat.

“Oh, ya like the sound of that, do you?” he provoked, his hand now holding onto her rear, but no longer guiding her; she was doing that all on her own. Taking her face in both of his hands, he brought her back up to face him. The familiar flush on her face, hooded eyes, the way her lips had parted and gentle gasps had fallen… “You like me talkin’ like that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she breathed with a wanton nod. “Please…”

“Please, what, darlin’?”

“I-I need you…”

“You need me to do what?” His fingers began a steady journey over her chest, down to her stomach, where he inched his hand under the thin material of her blouse. Skin to skin. Fuck…

She whined, gripping onto his shirt, a furrow in her brow. “You know what I want, Robert…”

“Hmm, not sure I do–”

“I will leave if you keep playing with me.” As much as she wanted her threat to sound genuine, stern, her body was completely ablaze, and there was no way it sounded any stronger than a desperate plea.

Robert smirked at her, sneakily managing to slip his hand further down, until it was snuggly hidden within her trousers, her arousal prominent against the soft lace of her underwear. She gasped as he applied pressure, grounding her hips involuntarily.

“Somethin’ tells me yer not going anywhere, luv.”

Smug prick… Always so fucking charming…

Her eyes fluttered shut as he released the pressure against her underwear, but instantly reapplied it.

“I can already feel how badly you need me, sweetheart,” he casually commented, loving the way he could break her down. Just with a mere touch. “You just have to tell me… then I can give you everything you need and more…”

“My God, just fuck me already…” she murmured, craving more than a simple touch over a layer of clothing. Robert responded with a throaty chuckle, beaming at her as he removed his hand from her trousers and swiftly pulled himself up into a seated position, her legs immediately wrapping around him to stop herself from falling back.

With a challenging glint in his eye, he leaned forward, arms encircled securely around her as she dangled from his lap off the side of the bed. Her hands were holding onto his shoulders, giving him a warning glare.

“Now, now, don’t give me that look…” he chided, lowering his gaze down to her attire. “You look gorgeous in this blazer, but I think it needs to come off now.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She obediently shrugged the heavy fabric from her shoulders, trusting that Robert wouldn’t drop her in the process. It fell to the floor, landing in a crumple—she’d surely chastise herself when the time came to put it back on, but at that moment, she couldn’t have cared any less.

A sharp squeal exited her mouth as Robert suddenly stood up, swung around and dropped her on the bed. He gave her a cheeky smirk, before lifting her legs to perch on his shoulders. Turning his head, he delicately worked the buckle on her heel loose.

“I like these shoes,” he nonchalantly complimented as he pulled it off her foot, dropping it down the side of the bed, before he repeated the action on the other. He pressed a kiss to her ankle and lowered his hands to unbutton her trousers, tugging at them when she lifted her hips. 

There she was, laid over his bed, in nothing but a white, gossamer blouse and the contrasting underwear in a characteristic black lace.

“Y’know…” Sighing, he crawled over her, allowing her to slowly pop open the buttons of his shirt when he got close enough. “I’ve always wondered—with you in particular—how I managed to get so lucky.” He ran his hands up and down her bare thighs, savouring the smooth skin under his fingertips.

She didn’t necessarily answer him, only sent him a playful eye roll before pushing the intricate silk from his shoulders, where it was then tossed to the side to join her trousers on the floor.

Robert displayed no sign of hesitancy in his shirtless glory; he looked like a transcendental entity—a god of his own likeness. So deserving of everything good, yet the creator of the very same thing. 

Her wandering eyes flooded with lust. She cursed the inability to squeeze her thighs together at the sight, at the situation. But before she could mourn the friction, he was down there in its place, as though he saw right through her longing. The soft fabric of her blouse became too constricting as her heart hammered away at the image of Robert knelt down on the floor with his upper body slotted between her legs, so she unbuttoned the garment, the air around them hitting her skin in a stark revelation.

“I told you I missed how you tasted,” he mumbled against her thigh as he peppered small kisses along the flesh, inching closer to her aching core, but bypassing it to replicate the motions on the other leg. His beard added a bout of sensation, hips rolling upwards in her thinned patience.

When he pressed his mouth against her clothed centre, she exhaled deeply, the simple touch sending sparks all throughout her body. Robert hummed against her as he caught her scent, mouth aching to taste what laid beneath the flimsy material. Soon enough, his own stoicism scattered—he had to have her against his tongue, now.

With a hungry resolve, he pulled the lace down her legs and pushed her open, the sight stirring his fervour below. He glanced up at his Cherry, deftly tracing his thumb over her already teary folds. She had her head settled against the soft sheets, managing her breathing in preparation for the delicious sensations that were to come. My perfect girl… Robert leered proudly, looking back down at the view.

He gently spread her open, her bijou pearl enticing and ready for the taking. Pink, glistening… 

“So pretty…” he murmured to himself, taking an experimental lick just below the sensitive nub, eliciting a small flinch from the goddess laid in front of him. He licked his lips, relishing his appetiser. Next, he flattened his tongue against her entrance, collecting her arousal, and dragging upwards until he gave her the contact she so desperately needed.

By the time he attached his lips to her clit, she was already pining, throbbing. A small cry fell from her lips as he performed a suction motion, tongue swirling around her in lazy circles. She was trapped in his hold as he wrapped his arms around her legs, keeping her open and completely at his mercy.

Robert proved, with the sublime movements he bestowed upon her, that old men do, in fact, do it better.

With a grunt, he pulled his head back long enough to lewdly spit, mixing their fluids together in a union of lust. Her pants were a pleasant breeze to his ears, and her writhing form was his reward.

“That feel good, darlin’?” She nodded her head, one of her legs pulling him closer to her. “Look at me.” With a whimper, she lifted her head with the strength she could muster to meet his stormy eyes—eyes punctuated by grooves of sagacity. “Yer still my good girl,” he praised with a knowing smile, the wisps on his lower face shimmering with her juices. “Aren’t you?” She nodded again, practically unable to speak through her yearning. “Words, luv.”

“Yes… I’m still your good girl,” she shakily succeeded, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, you are…” he whispered, pressing a brief kiss to her core. “Still Daddy’s good girl…”

She furrowed her eyebrows at the name she hadn’t heard in so long. The name she hadn’t even uttered to anyone else since the last time she found herself in this position with Robert. 

An untamable animal under a gentle predator with an even stronger desire to tame.

“I’m gonna make this pretty little cunt cum now, darlin’,” he hummed, “You just lay back and enjoy every second…” He eased her back down with a hand on her stomach, before lowering his head and resuming with his erotic assault.

An elongated moan expelled from her body as Robert seemed to return with a vengeance, tongue rapid against her pulsating, swollen clit, edging her—driving her—towards a much craved release.

Once he slipped a finger inside, stroking upwards in tandem with his tongue, she was done for. Her moans turned to cries, her whimpers turned to whines, and his name flew from her lips at a rocketing pace. 

Hips gyrating, back arching, she was in ecstasy.

Gripping tightly onto the bed sheet beside her head, her legs tightened over his shoulders, drawing him closer than ever.

Another finger.

More suction.

Closer.

And closer…

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop,” she gasped.

He didn’t.

What followed was nothing short of an otherworldly climax, tensing all over, gripping his fingers and pulsating into his mouth. Her hand shot to his hair, grabbing at the ash-blonde curls as he growled in validation, drinking in her release with the vigour of a water-starved cheetah.

She rode her orgasm out, body shaking and twitching as his comedown kisses hit sensitively against her. Eventually, he ceased his motions, snaking up her body, marking her on his journey. Each searing kiss to her flushed skin accompanied an indentation of his teeth. When he got to her chest, he dragged his lips between her breasts, up her neck, and finally punctuated with a heated kiss to her lips. 

Her remaining clothes were quickly shed, as was his, as they fell deeper into their salacious reunion. Inching up the bed in the scorch of their connection. Both eager, desperate, urgent. It didn’t even feel real when he eventually eased his cock between her legs, filling her up with a steady thrust of his hips.

Robert never seemed to pull back from her; only stayed as close as possible, absorbing her every reaction, even the most miniscule, the most subtle… He noticed everything.

The pace he set. The small tightening of her limbs wrapped around him. The rhythm of her breathing. And, of course, the ripples and twitches and flutters from her welcoming cunt. She took all of him so well—she always did. 

How he’d gone so long without her was a mystery. A foolish decision on his part, for he never felt more alive than when in her presence.

Hooking his arm underneath one leg, her body titled, cock kissing the hilt of her walls with every passion-filled jive. Her moans were melodic at least, with no limitations in their effect on Robert’s reverie. Fingernails raked over his back. Noses brushed against one another. Eyes fought to stay adhered. It was the copulation of a lifetime; even the first night they spent together sat miles from this.

“Cherry…” he groaned, evidently darkened chest hair grazing along her bare skin.

“No…” she managed to choke out, shaking her head. “D… Don’t call me that…”

Even more than her words, her eyes begged him to drop the silly nickname; it scarcely matched the moment, and gave their kinship too superficial a meaning.

With a smile of admiration, he pressed his lips to hers, free hand raking through her hair as his thrusts gained a jolting flair, building them up. Closer, and closer…

“Grace,” he finally whispered against her lips. “Grace, Grace, Grace…” he breathed, dropping his head to her neck.

Her name was exemplary on his lips. He practically chanted it the more he drove into her, knowing he was bringing them both closer by the second.

A lifetime could have passed, and neither one of them would have noticed. Completely, utterly, wrapped up in their mutual admiration for each other. Nothing else mattered. Their jobs, and all the emotions that came with them, were peripheral. Faded into the background. All that remained were the two of them.

Robert and Grace.

“R-Robert…” she panted, lips brushing against his shoulder. “God… fuck, I’m close…”

“Yeah?” he mumbled against her neck, his nipping quickly turning into biting, sucking, claiming.

“Mhm,” she nodded with a whimper, lifting her hips to meet his eager thrusts.

“That’s it, baby…” he approved, ensuring to match their rhythms. His breathing waned in its regularity, a heat rolled over his entire body. Just need to feel her…  “Cum for me, Grace, please… can’t hold it any longer—fuck, you feel so good.”

It took mere minutes after Robert moved to press his forehead against hers, staring her down, for her to finally succumb to his behemoth gifts. She held onto the side of his face, nails digging into his shoulder painfully as she clung to him.

Ears buzzing. Eyes blurring. Head thumping with the beat of her heart. The way she gripped around him, paired with the breathtaking expression of her face as she reached her zenith, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, taking in her responsive form as validation of his abilities. During her descent, he spilled into her, restrain seeming like a fargone possibility. He gyrated, growled, and ensured to empty himself completely inside of her.

Their bodies were tacky, hot, flustered, trembling, as they laid there, entangled in each other’s limbs. Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on the overhead lights in his room that were yet to be switched on since his return home. Having him in her arms, in his bed, was a long-awaited scenario she never thought would come to fruition.

But it had.

Eventually, he rolled over, bringing her into his protective hold. Somewhere, lingering in the back of his mind, he feared she wouldn’t be here come sunrise. That she’d realise she was making a mistake, take one look at him upon waking up, and disappear as quickly as possible. The grip he had on her was his way of keeping her there, with him, for as long as he could.

Though, it just wasn’t enough to ease his mind…

“Grace…” he called out slowly, his voice practically shot.

“Yeah?” She looked up at him, head resting on his chest.

“Can you stay?”

What a question to ask… She raised an eyebrow, looking into his eyes. The uncertainty baffled her. How he thought she might leave was an enigma to her.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” she assured him with a whisper.

He responded with a sigh of relief, and a kiss to her hair, before shifting the two of them further up the bed so they could comfortably bury themselves under his sheets.

There was no second guessing herself as she wrapped her arms around him, his back pressing against her chest. She held him close, smiling to herself when he found her hand, lacing their fingers together in such an affectionate position.

They laid there, lit by only the city lights that spilled through the edges of his curtains, for a few more minutes. Listening to the beating of each other’s hearts, and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.

“Will you stay for breakfast?”

Grace opened her eyes, giggling softly. “Yes, Robert. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Oh, darling… that would be forever.

[bloodyelectricreviews]

Ingested - The Tide of Death and Fractured Dreams

I just kinda thought this would be a run-of-the-mill Death Metal/Deathcore album. I’ve heard of the band before but not super familiar with their work. I’m happy to say, this thing is a beast. It has some really great features by Josh Middleton of Sylosis and Mark fucking Hunter of Chimaira (which is a band I haven’t thought about in ages and was excited to see). That last track is truly a work of art. The cleans are really well done and the lyrics and music hit fucking hard. Definitely going to be near the top releases of this year.

Also, shout out to the cover artist David Seidman. That cover art is gorgeous.

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 18

Inspired by a metal song

Despite being a Metalocalypse fan, I'm not actually a metalhead, so I hope hair metal counts for this prompt.

Today's entry is explicitly Skwistok for a change. Warning for suggestive content too, but nothing beyond that. With this song title, what can you expect anyway 🤣

It takes place during Dethklok's rise to fame, they weren't quite the biggest band in the world yet, but not a bunch of runts in a basement either.

Toki stormed into the room without knocking, without checking if he was busy, essentially without giving a damn about what Skwisgaar was up to generally. He flopped on the bed unceremoniously and started grumbling and kicking his feet against the mattress.

Skwisgaar raised his eyes from his guitar. “Bad nights?”

“It suckeds!” Toki mumbled almost incomprehensibly so. He turned himself to the side and glanced at Skwisgaar pitifully. It was Saturday night and he was back home before 2 am, he was officially a failure of a rockstar. “What ams you doings here?”

“Didn’t feels like goins out.” Skwisgaar shrugged and Toki couldn’t help but admire the confidence with which he said so. Like he wasn’t burdened by his own womanizer reputation. “I think ams getting a little boreds of fuckins da regular womens.” 

“Dat’s because you’ve fuckeds so manies!” Toki laid on his back and sighed. They were seriously in different worlds.

Skwisgaar chuckled. “Maybes.” After a pause, he added. “Tells me about your nightsk.”

Toki was almost a bit too ready to talk. “Soes, I went to dis parties and I trieds to score some goils. Dere was this really pretties redhead, but she totallies turneds me down…” He pouted. “And then her boyfriends gots really mad at mes-”

“She had a boyfriend?” Skwisgaar seemed somehow impressed. “Dats bold, Toki.”

“I didn’t knows!” Toki said. “I thoughts she was alones…anyways. He trieds to punches me soes…” He cleared his throat. “I kicks his ass.”

“You gots into a fight?” Skwisgaar raised his voice slightly, indicative of his surprise.

“H-He starteds it!” Toki defended himself. “And I wasn’ts gonna loses…not in fronts of da pretties lady…”

“So, yous kicked her boysfriendsks ass.” Skwisgaar concluded.

“Wells…yeah-buts...” Toki gazed at Skwisgaar and found him smirking. “Oh, you ams just teasings me right nows!”

Another chuckle and Skwisgaar returned to his guitar. “You ams such a kids, Toki.” There was a tint of fondness in his tone.

Toki frowned. “Whatevors.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It amsnt a big deals anyway.”

“Shores.”

Toki stared at Skwisgaar who was too focused on the guitar to notice. He felt his eyelids heavy from all the alcohol he had ingested, his head spinning like a whirl and his body clumsy. Even so, he decided to stand up. “Heys.” 

“Hmm?”

“Let’s dance.” Toki said.

Skwisgaar shook his head. “You knows I don’ts like danskcings.”

“I don’t cares.” Toki stretched his arms towards him. “Gets up.”

“Noes.”

“Come on, Skwisgaar!” Toki insisted. “Don’ts be borings!”

“There amsnt even musics to dance toes.”

Toki walked to the stereo and put a random station on. It was playing sappy rock. “Deres.” He turned to Skwisgaar, gesturing. “Now gets up.”

Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, but did as told. “Dat’s dildos music.”

“Yea, yea.” Toki reached to hold Skwisgaar’s hand. “Now turns.”

As he let himself be spinned, Skwisgaar added. “Dancings ams dildos toos.”

“Shut ups.” Toki said, looking down. “Watch your steps.”

“Eugh.” Skwisgaar groaned, trying to keep up with Toki’s feet. Even while drunk, he still had more grace than the huge Swede. “I hates dis.”

“And yets, you keeps accepting everytimes.” Toki smiled, this time he was the one spinning under Skwisgaar’s reluctant arm. 

“You ams too annoying.” Skwisgaar said. “Like a whinies dog whats can’ts stop yappings. I has to shuts you up somehows.”

“Oh, shut its, I knows you like dancings with me.” Toki said. In a miscalculation, he accidentally stepped on Skwisgaar’s foot and lost his balance, falling forwards. “Oh, shits!” On reflex, he held onto Skwisgaar’s waist.

“Ams you okays?” Skwisgaar asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” Toki said, still hugging Skwisgaar. 

“...Cans you-”

“No.” Toki closed his eyes, nestling against Skwisgaar’s shoulder. “Shuts.”

Skwisgaar audibly sighed, but he accepted and they slowly waved with the music. He really liked Skwisgaar. Because thanks to him he had a home and a family, of course. But also because he was so nice to him even though he pretended to be cool and distant. And he smelled good and he was so nice to look at. And nice to touch, and…

Toki slowly raised his eyes to him, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Skwisgaar. 

“Toki?” He saw Skwisgaar call him, though his voice sounded like he was far away. 

He smiled, messy and impulsive thoughts taking reign over him once again. With the coordination he had left, Toki stood on his tiptoes and meshed their lips together. 

It only lasted a second before Skwisgaar pushed him away from him, brows furrowed. “Toki, I alreadies tolds you-”

Undeterred, Toki stroked the side of Skwisgaar's face, more alcohol in his veins than common sense. “It amsnt no big deals…” He whispered, their lips brushing each other before he locked them again. 

This time, Skwisgaar lingered before pulling away and Toki could see in his expression that he was conflicted. And he was so pretty too.

“Comes on…” Toki urged him, unable to contain the goofy grin on his face. 

Almost resigned, Skwisgaar was the one closing the distance between them this time. His lips were firm but soft against Toki’s. Briefly, he broke away and glanced at Toki with uncertainty before kissing him with full force. 

Toki had kissed a lot of girls ever since he joined Dethklok. Pretty girls, hot girls, beautiful girls. He had made out with so many by now and most of the time he had really enjoyed it. Less often he had loved it, even.

But no one had beat Skwisgaar. No, kissing Skwisgaar was different, it was unique and borderline magical. Toki couldn’t get enough of his kisses, though he only had the bravery to ask for them when he was intoxicated. It felt safe, it felt easy. 

And most importantly, it felt good.

Skwisgaar shoved him against the wall and Toki was suddenly glad he didn’t get laid that night. He held the sides of Skwisgaar’s face with devotion, tilting his own head for a better angle. The kiss deepened and Toki couldn’t hold back a moan when Skwisgaar bit his lower lip, way too entranced and inebriated to play cool. 

It would’ve been embarrassing how ready he was to give Skwisgaar full access to his mouth the moment he felt his tongue slide across over the bitten lip if he didn’t know that Skwisgaar was into it too. Why else would he pull Toki so close, as if he didn’t want to let him go? Why would one of his hands stealthily run under Toki’s shirt and the other one over his neck? Why would he hungrily devour Toki’s mouth?

Skwisgaar loved it, even if it was just the ego boost of making someone melt under his touch. Toki couldn’t help but hope that he wasn’t doing this with other Dethklok members. He couldn’t dream of monopolizing Skwisgaar’s lips over the ladies, but at least he could be the only bandmate he occasionally made out with.  

When Skwisgaar pulled away, it was akin to someone going back to the surface after being submerged for too long. “Okays! No mores of dis.” He said, seemingly more to himself than to Toki.

The only reason why Toki was able to hide his disappointment was because that singular session was going to keep him going for several weeks at the very least. “Did I tells you I went to a party?”

“Ja, you dids.” Skwisgaar sling an arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get yous some rest.”

Toki giggled stupidly. “Ams you invitings me to your beds?”

“Ams inviting you to sleeps.” Skwisgaar purposefully ignored the remark, placing Toki’s back on the wide mattress. He didn’t move away fast enough, though, and Toki pulled him in for another kiss. “Enofs.” He said, after indulging for more than a few seconds. “Go sleeps, Toki.”

Toki gazed at Skwisgaar with stars in his eyes. “Thank yous.”

Skwisgaar frowned slightly. “Yous welcomes. But one days I won’t be takingsk cares of you no mores.”

“Ja…” Toki smiled, looking over to the empty ceiling. “But untils dat…” The tiredness was washing over him like a water dam being opened. At some point Skwisgaar held his hand, though that could’ve been part of a dream.

Not that he’d remember the next morning anyway. 

[stripperblvd]

I’m Fucking Obsessed With You (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: You’re both impulsive, there’s nothing that could ever change that, so what is it about you having his name right under your boobs that has him acting so feral. Specially when yours is inked right on his heart

Warnings: Steamy make out, implied smut, needle work. Slight fight, only a busted lip.

Word Count: 2.7k

The night had started out simple enough. Date night, going out to the bar and supporting local bands, Eddie liked to say that he treated others the way he’d like for them to treat Corroded Coffin. So it had started, Eddie’s long arms wrapping around your waist, swaying and rocking to the heavy sounds that rose up from the stage, your ears persecuted with amazing solos, impeccable covers and creative originals. You felt Eddie’s lips on your shoulder or neck from time to time, savoring the fact that he had you all to himself, glaring at any man that dared look at you for more than 3 seconds. “Yeah” he thought to himself. “I got the hottest chick in this fucking place, keep it moving dick head”. His mind was dizzy with bliss, the shots and mixes that you two were sharing started to get to his head as he swayed his hips with yours, cursing at those tight ass jeans for making your ass look so pretty, perfectly resting right on his thighs.

Before the night ended, Scotty, the bar’s promoter, announced a surprise contest, enticing you and the lanky boy wrapped around you to stay and listen. “Alright, listen up. Today we partnered up with our friends down at Skull Rock Studios to bring just SOME of the greatest upcoming bands.” He paused, laughing as the hyped drunk crowd cheered and screamed, some toasting at the mention of the show they had just witnessed. “Now, to thank you for all this, Skull Rock is having a drink off, one pair per entry, the winners receive a free $30 tattoo of their choice each!” You thought the bar would collapse with the amount of ruckus the announcement created, people jumping and stomping. Your eyes twinkled with mischief as you looked up at Eddie, whose now sobering eyes were already looking at you.

The contest had started off easy, but as more people were eliminated the drinks became heavier, bigger and stronger. You were now up against the last pair, your head was spinning with all the alcohol you had in you, it was nearing 1 am when the finale began, the small rest that had taken place before to let the four of you piss out whatever liquids you had ingested now ending. You forced Eddie to drink just a bit more water, knowing that it’ll at least help with tomorrow's raging headache and pending hangover. You stood with your boyfriend, smirking at the two men in front of you. They were around Eddie’s height, but much much bigger, their round bellies protruding from their abdomens. They glared at you too, almost acting offended that their only obstacle between a free tattoo each was a lanky guitar player with curly hair and his taunting girlfriend, who all though was an eyeful, only had eyes for the boy beside her.

You held your breath as the last challenge was announced. “Alright settle down settle down. Now for this last challenge, we’re gonna spice things up a bit.” Scotty’s face was deep with mischief and almost malice as he spoke up, intentionally emphasizing on the word “spice”. “So, here it is, you each have 30 seconds to pick which partner will be doing what.” Two scantily clad girls walked up to each team, placing a large black beer mug filled with a steaming liquid and another with 5 ghastly looking peppers. “Now in the plate, is 5 beautifully picked tree peppers, and in the other mug, thanks to our generosity is a nice steamy cup of black coffee. Whatever team finishes both first wins.” Scotty announced to the crowd. You look closely at Eddie, already feeling the confidence in the pit of your stomach. The clock tickled as he asked, “Alright baby girl, it's all or nothing, pick your poison, what's gonna heat up that pretty little mouth tonight.” he asked, clearly drunk but definitely not next to unconscious drunk. “You think you can handle the peppers?” you asked, slightly worried for his intestines. “Hell yeah, s’long as I get a kiss after we win a pretty thing.” he smirked, leaning towards you, engulfing your senses with the strong odor of alcohol in his mouth, one you knew you were reciprocating as well. “You’re on handsome.” you smirk grabbing hold of the mug and playing one of your arms behind your back, directing your smirk at the man in front of you.

For as long as you had remembered you’d been an avid caffeine consumer, a habit that started when your grandpa would let you soak your cookies in his morning cup. The clock finally clicked to its end as you brought the cup to your lips and started chugging. In a sense it felt relieving, the smoky taste of ground coffee smoothly running down your throat. You watch from your peripherals as Eddie opts to simply put all the unstemmed peppers into his mouth, finally chewing the raging red things to a consistency that he deemed fit to swallow. It was up to you now, You watched the man before you, your hands going up much quicker to finish your mug. His eyes bulging as he continues trying to swallow the warm liquid, very clearly (and worriedly) turning slightly dull, his throat rejecting the stream of caffeine that flowed from the cup on his hands. You watch intently, regretfully even.

Because just as you finish the very last drop of coffee in your mug, lifting it from your lips, the man right in front of you turns to his side, Scotty jumping aside as he empties his stomach on the bucket by his feet, you watch as he drops the mug, nearly half of the liquid still inside and hastily pouring from it. The crowd goes absolutely feral at this, watching as the young girl raises her mug in the air cheering as she turns it upside down, not a single drop falling from the opening of the mug. Scotty runs to you, grinning at your boyfriend who's too busy devouring a milkshake handed to him by one of the bartenders, and raising your hand, displaying your victory. One that was short lived.

The man Eddie faced off against yelled out, launching at you with a raised fist, and unreasonable anger vivid in his face. This triggers an incredibly fast chain of events, the mug from your hand dropping from your grasp, the force of Scotty’s arm quickly wrapping around you to pull you out of harm's way knocking it right against your lip, 3 enormous bouncers and security officers pouncing on the rabid individual. Glass breaking as Eddie drops his milkshake, lunging to protect his girl, landing a savage ringed blow to the guy’s nose. “Dont you fucking touch my girl.” He spat, anger visible in his features as the wild biker is pulled from the stage, kicks following him as the crowd opens to let the guards pulling him out though, and swarming back together when he crosses the threshold, Your eyes are wide as you feel Scotty’s hands leave you, your body being held close to another, one that your mind would recognize miles away. The chest your face was pressed to handsomely closed in on you, and it’s scent intoxicating your mind. “You okay kid?” Scotty asked, concern flowing through his eyes, having known you for a while and holding you and Eddie in a special part of his emotions. Your break away from Eddie’s chest, eyes confused as you smile at him, a beautiful, bloody smile, one that stains your teeth crimson and makes you look like you just chugged an entire bottle of cherry syrup. “I think I deserve my fucking tattoo.” you joke, looking straight at Scotty who laughs, not believing how tough your little self could be. The crowd raises hell as a chant begins, your ears catching the words “SHE DESERVES IT” followed by rhythmic clapping. Eddie smiles, holding you close as you’re both ushered off stage, one of the women who had brought out the last challenge approaching you. “Come on sweetheart, let's clean that lip up.” She guides you and Eddie to a back room, urging you to sit on the black couhes, the staff filling the room, banter following as the club slowly closes down, people now leaving to go back home.

“I ever see him again, I swear to god.” Eddie seethed, watching as the woman you know knew as Claire checked your mouth to make sure you hadn't cracked or lost a tooth. A large overwhelming silence falls in the room as a security guard enters, accompanied by the guy that had thrown up right before you. Eddie’s about to stand up, an uncontrollable rage brewing in his stomach as the guy holds his hands up. “I come in peace man.” he warns, slowly walking towards you two as your arm wraps around Eddie’s flexing bicep. “Listen I just wanted to apologize for my buddy, it’s just a game, I’m not exactly sure why he reacted the way he did. But I am sorry, I don’t condone a man putting his hands on a lady.” He explained, almost nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Ed was about to speak up before you placed your hand on his stomach, urging him to shut it with your own voice. “It’s okay, it wasn't your fault. Thank you though, for being a good sport.” you smiled,raising your first at him, and earning yourself a fist bump. Scotty clapped his shoulders, “C’mon Paul, I’ll have Georgie drive ya home.” he spoke.

You laugh as Eddie grumbles, “You shouldn't have forgiven him.” you now sat on his lap, waiting for the tattoo artists from the studio to show up. “Mmm, s’not his fault baby, he can’t control how his friend acts. I mean look at him, he came in nervous as a puppy dog, big man like him?” you smile, and kiss your boyfriend's lips, ignoring the small sting on your lip. He buries his head in your neck, “You know what you’re picking?” he asked, the sound of his raspy voice incredibly muffled by your skin. “Yeah, can we agree to not show each other until we get home?” you ask, lifting your hand slightly to your back to reach his curls, knowing how much he loves it when you play with his hair. “Yeah, sounds good to me.” he says, right as the artists arrive, pulling you out of the room into a separate one and leaving Eddie in there, with a man he’d been previously inked by. You sat on the couch, looking curiously at the woman in front of you. “Know what you want?” she asked, looking up at you as she set her machine up. You nod, explaining your idea to her. “Sick question though, is this the first time getting the needle? It might hurt a lot more than what you’re expecting.” she asked. You shake your head, lifting your shirt up to show her the beautifully done dragon tattoo right on her hip.

“Awesome.”

The ride home was full of giggles and anticipation, an excitement running across your faces and bodies, knowing that the lack of wrap showing meant that clothes would need to be removed to show the newly inked skin. Eddie sighed in relief when he finally pulled into the trailer park, the watch on his wrist pointing to just past 3 am. Jesus H Christ, between the show itself, which started at 8, the contest, one that started at 10 when the show ended and the end plus the tattoos, you both had been out for more than 7 hours. You both stumbled into the trailer, so happy that Wayne had gone out with some friends for a hiking trip for the weekend, meaning that he would not return, not even on this cloudy and extremely early Saturday morning. You giggle, letting yourself be dragged by your boyfriend through the small home and into his bedroom, locking the door just for that extra sense of privacy. His arms wrapped around you, pushing his tongue into those beautiful busted lips of yours, savoring the intoxicating taste of your mouth against his. He felt the way your boobs pressed up against his chest, ducking to suckle on the soft skin that adorned your throat. He groaned as he sat on the edge of his bed, pulling you to straddle him.

“Baby, I wanna show you mine.” he said, licking an incredibly erotic stripe up your neck. You laugh, holding his shoulders close to you as you lock down towards that drunken, red face of his. You lean down to kiss him once more before reluctantly standing up, your lips the very last part of your body that departed from him. “Show me.” you smile, holding your hands behind your pack and rocking back and forth. His eyes are hungry, lips darting out to lick across those luscious lips of his before he grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling it off as he stands to his full height, standing above you as his hair flops from the shirt. You gasp, eyes blowing out as your boyfriend stands in all his shirtless glory, grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him so you can place your hands on his upper body, one hand landing on his right peck, the other lands right at his waist. He stared at you intently watching a soft smile spread across your face to accompany your twinkling eyes.

Spread in a gorgeous slightly cursive writing is your name. Your name. ‘Y/N’ is now permanently showing on that milky alabaster skin of Eddie’s, right next to his other chest piece, your name however directly above his beating heart. It sparked a fire inside of you, something that bubbled from the very bottom of your belly, and crawled its way up to wrap around your heart. You looked up at him, “I love it.” you pushed him down back onto the bed, grinning as you spoke. “Close your eyes baby.” you urged him, making sure to cover his eyes with his hands as you began to strip. Every movement and rustle of clothes made Eddie’s hunger grow, a hunger that only you could satiate. “Okay babe, open them up.”

Eddie could swear his heart stopped as he saw you. Bare, your body naked for him to feast his eyes on, your index fingers linked to each other right over the beautiful mound of soft, warm flesh between your legs, one that he was hoping to taste tonight. He racked his eyes from your pussy, stopping at your hips to stare at the fantasy tattoo on your skin. As his eyes smiled, your stomach slightly bloated from your activities he choked on his own spit, eye catching your boobs, more specifically right under your left one. Right then and there you saw a noticeable bulge growing in his pants, a soft groan leaving his lips. He couldn’t help himself, grabbing the back of your thighs to guide you closer to him. He rests his hands on your ass, smashing his face right at your abdomen to have a closer inspection at your ink.

‘Eddie’

“Fuck.” he whispered, placing one of his hands on your rib cage, using that leverage to once again place your now naked body on his lap, his jeans pressing deliciously on your aching, core. He smashed your lips together, savoring the way your saliva mixed with his, the way you braced yourself on his shoulders, moaning into his mouth. He quickly went back to work on your chest, leaving marks and licks all over, you whined, needing just a bit more. He flipped you over, watching his bed bounce slightly as you sprawled over it, making fast work of his pants and shoes. He crawled on top of you, careful not to completely squish you as he lowered his body onto yours. You moan, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. Your breast pushed against his upper peck as he hovered over you, your name right over his. He groans.  Face deep in your neck.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” he breathes in your scent, your hands tangled up in his hair. “You’re mine, you’re fucking mine. I’m so fucking obsessed with you.” he repeated, almost to himself. “You’re never leaving. You’re mine forever.” he whispered slowly, pushing his dick inside you for a night to remember.

HEHEHE, first of a few Eddie smut pieces. 7-6-22