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jjungkooksthighs · 4 years

Text

Edacity | jjk (m)

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader

Genre: platter of smut, the barest hint of fluff and the tiniest garnishment of angst / nonidol!au / college!au

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: After a rough day at college in your biochemistry class, you come home to your boyfriend, who is sweetly making you dinner. In his efforts to help calm you down, he only riles you up when you realize that it’s not the food you’re hungry for…it’s him.

Warnings: dom!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, lots of dirty talk (let’s face it I love that shit), praising, fingering, grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a smidge), unprotected sex (reader has a birth control implant in her arm but Koo doesn’t like condoms, so yeah), breast/nipple play, nipping, marking via hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, begging, muscle kink, scratching, precum play if that’s a thing, manhandling, pinning down, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), degradation kink (koo calls you a slut a couple times but that’s about it), size kink, hair pulling

A/N: This fic is brought to you by 201008 Jungkook from the “Savage Love” video he posted. I saw it, got horny and then wrote this filth. Blame him for this, not me. Also, please let me know what you guys think. Your feedback means more to me than you know. Tagging @nervouskiwi , @tricethecharm and @nightshadevinter per their request!

The door to your apartment opens and shuts with a heaved sigh from you as you drop your bag to the floor with a thump, the day’s toil stemming from an unhelpful and unknowledgeable lab partner finally taking its toll on you while you rub your eyes as if to clear away the sight of the freshman boy who’d stared dumbly at the temperature probe and gas pressure sensor before asking you which was which in your biochemistry class. After that, he’d proceeded to clumsily knock over the catalase solution you were meant to measure enzyme activity with on several occasions in his ceaseless cloddishness.

Even your professor had not noticed your lab partner’s negligence despite the seven times that you’d had to go procure a new vial of solution from the back of the classroom and when you’d asked to just do the lab alone upon finding out that your lab companion didn’t even know how to work the magnetic stirrer, your teacher still had not yielded to your plea. You had ended up doing all of the work and your efforts had gone entirely unnoticed to all but yourself. Well, almost everyone.

“Bad day?” The mellifluous voice of your boyfriend of three years wafts over to your ears and you don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s in the kitchen directly to your left, your body instinctively wanting to seek the comfort of his warm embrace after such a long day. The sound of him already has the agitation crumbling, his voice the music to your ears that you are sure you will never tire of.

“Terrible,” you whine, “my professor paired me with someone that didn’t even know what the equipment we were using was called. I had to do all the work.”

“Aww…I’m sorry to hear that. Come here, babe. I’ll make it all better, yeah?” He asks.

Your body is already moving at that and there’s the distinct clinking of a utensil against cookware that dots the space of your shared apartment. When you breathe in the succulent smell of sundubu-jjigae (one of your favorites of his) the earlier irritation is drawn away as you take in the aroma that has your stomach rumble tellingly in hunger. You really hadn’t been in want of food before you walked in, so now you’re not sure if it’s the dinner that has you craving or if it’s the person that made it.

Wanting to look upon the source of the delicatessen, you open your eyes to find your boyfriend who is already gazing softly at you while he-with one occupied and tattooed hand-attends to the stew and it is as if the frustration is drained from you immediately as you drink in the sight of domesticity.

His hair has been drawn up in a manbun that would be an instant panty-dropper if he went outside right now with the way that he’s left some of his chocolate brown fringe to frame each side of his face. It is wavy with the water from the shower he must’ve taken in the way that it darkly curves to the sides along his eyes and that alone has you suck in a breath. You let your eyes trail downward, your own malnourishment throughout the day causing familiar hungry desire to begin to pool heatedly within you at the visage of the black pajamas you’d bought for him a week ago after he’d ripped his previous pair apart in one particular voracious spur of energy to hastily plunge himself into the silken depths of your pussy. The striped shirt he now wears is open deliciously into a perfect ‘V’ shape that boasts the luscious expanse of his chest all the way down before tortuously stopping at the crest before his navel. He wears the matching pair of pants, their length giving a salacious view of his calves that you are sure the gods themselves must have had a hand in crafting.

In the dimmed light of the kitchen, you can see the shadows that curl temptingly around his abdominals, your fingers inadvertently twitching against your sides in your want to touch, to feel him again.

You know from experience how defined his chest is. You know how hot his skin is against your fingers. You know the bliss his body grants, for he has reminded you timelessly in the way that his perfect cock finds its dwelling in the wet warmth of either your mouth or your pussy as he brings you to paradise. You’re quite sure that you’ll never be able to sate yourself of him, the memory of him driving his cock into you from this morning bringing a familiar wave of desire to wash over you. You’d left him on the bed with a hardened cock after round two upon deciding to ride his thigh, thoughts of his pleading words and strained expression living in your thoughts all day long in your decision to punish him for grinding his cock into your ass so early into the morning.

Usually he wouldn’t have gone so easy on you, but after all your texts throughout the day that were telling of your stresses, he couldn’t find it in himself to discipline you. Wanting to ensure that you felt better, he had decided to wait. After all, patience was a virtue, as you had told him before.

Before you know it, you’re standing before him, one of his arms winding around you to pull you close as you let your irises dip from his eyes to those lips of his that must’ve been created by the devil himself in how they tempt you. Your boyfriend watches with interest, arousal coloring him internally when you look back up at him, your eyes beginning to cloud over in lust as you slide your hand down the sliver of his chest that he’s left uncovered for you. His skin receives you as if it had been waiting for this very moment, his muscles flexing proudly as you stroke the heated skin with appreciation. He’s more taut than usual under your touch which means he must have gotten back from the gym some time ago in the way that his muscles are tightly tensed from such use.

It is that thought that has you press your lips to his in a heated kiss, your tongue sliding through his parted lips to kittenishly lick along the roof of his mouth to earn a groan from him, the sound caught between your lips and travelling with sonic speed right down to your pussy. He takes control when you try to wrap your tongue around his, the hot muscle plunging straight into your mouth as the other hand he’d been using to stir the stew abandons its earlier movements to find purchase on your ass as he squeezes you firmly between his fingers. When you disconnect, it is with a pant after the breath he has stolen from you.

You breathe, “You’ve already made it better, Kookie, but do you want to know something?” You question as you bring your lip between your teeth, enjoying the way his eyes fix on that action as the inklings of desire begin to manifest in his eyes, in the way the soft exterior he’d been showing earlier begins to melt into something darker and far more primal under your attention.

“Tell me, baby,” He husks as you close one hand around the silk of his shirt to bunch the fabric between your fingers as you dare to unearth the heated skin of his left pectoral, “If this is how you’re going to greet me, I would very much like to know.”

When your mouth descends upon him to give soft, featherlight kisses along the line of his exposed chest, you manage to utter between them, “I bet the food you made for us is delicious, but the only thing I want to taste right now-” you peer up at him through a fan of dark lashes “-is you. You’re the only one who can give me what I really crave.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes darken instantly at that, his other hand finding its place along your ass and you need no instruction to wrap your legs around him as he lifts you like you’re a feather only to prop you back down on the cold, hard countertop as he growls, “What a needy little girl you are. Didn’t have enough of this cock this morning, huh? God, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

He lowers his head and you instinctively bare your neck for him, your legs spreading so he can step between them as you let your head fall back while one of his hands is already there to cup your nape in his effort to hold you there. You both keep your eyes locked on each other the whole time, desire burgeoning to life wildly within you as he peers at you with a hooded gaze while he moves torturously slow to where you want him and finally, finally, his lips find their home in a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive spot on right under your ear.

The warmth of his mouth has you gasp, your back straightening as one of your hands finds purchase in his hair to coax him downward as you mewl, “Yes, Kookie…yes. I’m only a slut for you. It’s only ever been you.”

You hastily unbutton his shirt while he lets you and instantly you’re salivating at the perfect canvas of him that is presented to you as the offending piece of clothing is pushed off his shoulders. Your palms, magnetized to him, splay over his abs, catching on the ridges of the defined set of muscles as they jump excitedly under your touch while you trail your hands upward. He sighs in satisfaction against your skin when the pads of your fingertips graze his dark nipples and you nearly coo at the sound of that alone.

“That’s right, Y/N. No one else makes you this desperate, huh?” He manages between kisses.

You nod as much as you can in this position and you feel the way his lips turn upward in a smirk borne of the boost to his ego, his lips descending down the column of your neck in a wet trail and it is when he gets to the jugular notch between your collarbones that he presses the wet, heated muscle of his tongue to the delicate skin there that you keen, your fingers curling inward within his hair as he hisses at the pull and in punishment, nips you there.

You are utterly powerless to stop your juices from collecting along your folds that you know is going to ruin your underwear. Without thinking, your hips begin to search for friction and you grind against him, the warm bulge of his member hardening under your ministrations.

“A-ah, Kookie, please.” You beg for his mercy and his grin deepens as both of his hands run down your clothed arms. His mouth continues to trail across the sliver of skin over your shoulders and when his hands make another pass upward along you, you watch the way that his brows scrunch together as if disturbed by something and suddenly his devilish mouth is gone. The unforgiving cold is left in his absence and you whine at his loss, not understanding why he has stopped.

Both of his hands settle on the countertop to either side of you as he leans forward, his tongue hotly poking against his cheek in a sight that only makes you wetter when his eyes narrow, “You smell different. Why?”

Your boyfriend has always had a sensitive nose, but right now, you’re hardly in the mindset to think about what it is that he’s disgruntled about as you whimper, “Kook, I was doing a lab and dealing with chemicals. That’s all, okay?”

You watch his fingers curl inward until they’re white with how hard he’s gripping the marble, his jaw setting as he hisses, “This morning you left smelling like me after I fucked you,” he grasps your chin with one hand, “Now you smell like someone else. Explain or you will get none of this cock that I know you want so bad.”

You try to think past the haze of desire, you really do, but all you can do is blink owlishly as you try to navigate the sea of want for him that has filled your mind. Under his piercing gaze, you’re frozen in place and you swallow thickly to manage the only answer that your mind can supply with a stammer, I-I… It was my lab partner,” you watch his expression begin to contort in anger and before he can sink further into the emotion, you put both hands to either side of his face in effort to keep his attention on you, “He kept brushing against me when I was doing measurements for the assignment, Jungkook. It was nothing. He is nothing to me. I promise.”

You hadn’t really thought of the implications of the first thing that you’d said, but you could see the momentary fury that had begun to color his very irises and wanting to quell it, you urge him close, your hands falling to rest on his chest as you plead with your eyes for him to understand. You both have been together three years and deep down, your boyfriend knows you would never betray him like that, but the lion of possession within him had roared loudly and there was little he could do to quiet it without the reassurance you had been so quick to feed it with.

Before you have time to process anything, your shirt has been torn from your body and lands somewhere behind you, but you have no care for that right now. Instead, your focus is on Jungkook, the anger that had begun to set in his irises overtaken by something far more carnal as he orders, “Get on your knees, Y/N. I think you need to be punished for letting someone else touch what isn’t theirs. You’re mine,” he boldly wraps a hand around each breast to give a harsh squeeze, “show me you can be a good girl and suck me off until all you know is the feeling of me on your tongue.”

His words have fresh arousal depositing itself between your thighs and with a submissive nod, your body obeys. He watches you with a darkened, lustful gaze as you lower yourself to the hardwood floor, your hands still by your sides while your boyfriend, all in one go, sheds his matching pajama pants until they puddle along his feet abandonedly.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, muscled thighs that you’ve fucked yourself on more times than you count, but your salivary glands do not fully exert themselves in hunger until your irises trail up to the thick shaft that arches deliciously upward as a constellation of veins scale along it all the way up the bulbous head that is already wet with precum. His tip rests artfully along his abdominals in some kind of lewd painting brought to life that you could stare forever and a day at, a whine coming from your lips as you lick them.

Your boyfriend watches with interest as you ogle him and when he sees the pink of your tongue draping itself sinfully against his lip, he declares, “If you don’t get your mouth on me right now, baby, I’m going to fuck your face later, yeah?”

That one has you moaning in thought, your boyfriend’s lips turning up in a smirk as you quickly lean forward, both hands trailing slowly up his legs and compressing around the thick, corded muscle as you do. When your hands find his member, you lightly run the tips of your fingers over his aching dick, the veins there throbbing energetically at your touch. He groans at that and then one of your hands encircles itself over his base where you gently squeeze the half of him that your fingers can reach, your other hand curling around him and stroking up and down as he grunts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut.

You swallow with some effort when your thumb runs over his slit to collect more of his fluid before swathing it along his glans as you ready him for your mouth. He’s already substantially hard, but you have no doubt that he will become even more so when you finally do suck him off. He really does have the world’s most perfect dick and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a thicker, bigger and better one than his.

Granted, you’ve only ever actually seen and felt his, but you have never had a wish to have anyone else’s. You couldn’t possibly have room to want anything else when he fills you so deliciously, when he fits inside you like he was made for you.

“Such a nice, pretty cock, Kookie…thank you for letting me have it,” you praise.

As you bring him toward your waiting mouth, you blow out a puff of air to have him suck in a breath, his jaw clenching as one hand finds itself in your hair to guide you forward. With one final look up to his face, you take him into your mouth to watch his face contort into an expression of pleasure, his eyebrows scrunched together and his hair veiling his face to the point where you can only see his eyes based on the glint in each iris that flashes erotically at you as he takes a stuttered breath.

Your walls clench contract around nothing as his member fills the wet cavern of your mouth while you try to take him as far as you can. Even like this, your hand still holds his base in his profound length despite the fact that you’ve gotten him as far your throat will allow.

You’ve deep-throated him many times in the bliss that you have discovered you can grant him and now will be no different. There is nothing that you enjoy more than knowing that you alone can give him pleasure.

When you’ve fitted him inside your mouth a little bit more, that’s when you run your tongue along his length before sucking, your cheeks hollowing out as you do. Your boyfriend’s fingers tighten in your hair as he growls, “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you’re so perfect for me. That little mouth takes me so fucking well.”

You swallow around him, drawing him deeper into your throat as you all but guzzle him in your ministrations. He leaves a salty taste on your tongue in the precum that you collect and you can’t say you don’t fucking love the taste of him. You hungrily slide your tongue over his slit before kittenishly licking along the sides, a guttural moan tearing itself from the recesses of his body as he bucks under your ministrations.

When your boyfriend opens his eyes to peer down at you, it’s enough to have his cock throb inside your wet warmth. The way that his cock disappears beyond the cradle of your lips is sin itself, but the way that you stare heatedly at him with desire simmering hotly in those irises of yours…Jungkook thinks if eroticism had a picture, you would be it right now.

He’s just hit the back of your throat and because of that, drool has begun to pool along the sides of your mouth and fondness floods him at the sight, his thumb brushing away the spit only to lather it over your lips as he croons, “Look at my beautiful, messy girl starting to fall apart on my cock. Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little girl,” you suction your mouth intensely around him at that, “Think you can take me farther? I bet you can fit all of me down that tight throat of yours if you really try.”

His praises have your walls fluttering around nothing as you engulf him impossibly farther into your mouth with another swallow, the wet slurping sounds of your ministrations filling the room as he starts to massage your head through tightened fingers that pull at the roots of it. You inhale through your nose, unable to any longer breathe through your mouth through the cock that blocks your airway and in one fluid motion, you press forward and try, but fail, not to gag around him as his dick sinks further into your throat.

Tears instantly threaten to fall from your eyes as they water, your vision becoming blurry as you sputter against his dick. The sensation of your throat closing around him earns a hiss as he responsively thrusts his cock into you, unable to stop himself from chasing his pleasure.

You let him fuck your mouth, enjoying the sounds of rapture that tumble freely from his mouth and content in the knowledge that you are able to gift him this euphoria. Tears are quick to fall from your eyes as you suckle him, the wide girth of him easily hitting your gag reflex in the back of your throat as you trail your tongue along the underside of his shaft while you slacken your jaw to ease his access.

Your boyfriend coos while he watches your tits rise and falls with the efforts of your breaths, “Such beautiful tits, baby. If you hadn’t been a bad girl earlier today, maybe I could have used them as a cocksleeve. I bet you would have liked that, too, you dirty slut.”

You preen at his words with a moan, the vibrations of that heightening his pleasure and it is when you slide a free hand under him to grasp and fondle his balls that are extremely full in the seed that aches with need to be released that he grunts with fervor and when you roll them in your hands like dice before you gently run the pads of your fingers over them, he throws his head back, his mouth parting as he drives his cock into you one more time. With how far down his cock hits at your larynx now, you can’t see him any longer through the blurred vision as tears stream down your cheeks while you cry out his name.

“Fu-fuck, baby. I can’t l-last much longer if you keep doing that. You really love this cock, don’t y-you? Tell me how much you love it. I w-wanna hear it with my cock in your mouth.” He manages through labored breaths.

You hum in agreeance, the burn of his dick inherently insistent as he moves and the vibrations your sound makes has his cock throbbing dangerously as it begins to swell in warning of his impending end. He’s so hard already and your pussy aches to receive him, your walls contracting around nothing at the feel of his hot member between your lips.

“I love it, Kookie. I love it so much. Love how big you are.” You splutter despite the very large dick currently nestled between your lips.

You make a point to show him by swiveling your hand around what little of him is beyond the reaches of your mouth at this point while your other hand drags itself downward from his balls to rub at his perineum. That one has his back bowing inward, his fingers fisting in your hair as he groans and you can feel how his cock pulses in warning of his climax that you cannot wait to taste the fruits of as you flick your tongue along his length once, twice and then three times before suddenly, with a guttural sound, his fist pulls at your hair roughly to effectively extricate himself from your mouth as he breathes laboriously above you.

You both watch as your spittle clings to his cock in a thin line in its attempts to remain connected to him until it sadly breaks off and away. You whimper at the loss of him, blinking up at him far too innocently for someone that just had a dick rammed down their throat and you watch the way his eyes flash cravingly at you only to rub your neglected thighs together in search of some friction.

“As good as that was, baby,” he lowers himself down to your level to wipe away the tears that had collected along the sides of your face as he darkly declares, “there’s somewhere else that I want to cum in today and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

You nod without a thought, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist and lift you with ease until you’re splayed out on your back for him along the countertop that is mercifully long enough to support your torso. Your legs dangle precariously off the edge, but they never reach the floor and like this, you’re granted an unfettered view of him, his now engorged dick standing to attention along his abdominals and when you peer up at his blown out irises, you release a shaky sigh in anticipation as he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s about to fucking devour.

“You know, I wanted to eat you out, baby. I really did,” he husks as he steps forward between your legs that you part in invitation, “but you sucked me off so good that now all I can think about is ramming this cock into you so hard that you won’t remember anything but my name and getting my fill of you until you milk me fucking dry, Y/N.”

Arousal ignites within you at that and you pleadingly implore, “I want you to do that, gods, I do, but first, Kook…kiss me. Please, kiss me. After that, you can fuck me to your heart’s content.”

You don’t know how you find yourself wanting even more of him, but you do. His mouth, you are sure, is the work of an incubus in the way that it can work sinfully against you. The words that tumble from them light the fires of desire within you and just want to feel the warmth of his lips again, honestly.

He arches a brow at this as he leans over you, one hand finding purchase along your waist as he rasps, “You want me to taste myself, baby? Is that it?”

You can tell by the lilt in his voice that he’s playing with you and you already know this is a game he will ultimately lose, for you have a trick up your sleeve that he forever and always falls for. You let your hand slither along your body, your index finger dipping between your wet folds while he watches with a hooded gaze as you bring your soiled hand to your lips to dapple your essence over them like a lewd lipstick before you angle your chin up invitingly to beseech, “Won’t you taste me, Kookie? Don’t you want to taste us? Please,” you whine,” all I want is a kiss. No one...no one kisses me like Jeon Jungkook. Please, Kookie. I want your mouth so bad.”

Your boyfriend brings his lip between his teeth at that as he lowers himself down to your level, his sinful irises burning heatedly into your skin as he utters, “That’s it, baby. I love it when you beg for me. So fucking hot.”

With that, his lips descend over your own, your arms wrapping around him as you mewl into his mouth. He consumes you and drinks from you like you’re his last means of sustenance, his lips capturing yours in voraciousness as his tongue runs boldly along them in quick movements of possession before he’s sliding the wet muscle everywhere he can reach in his mission to claim the depths of your wet cavern. He can taste the remnants of himself on your tongue and with the sweet juices of your sex that you’d lathered over your lips, it’s a combination he has come to thoroughly enjoy the taste of in how well flavor of you both coalesce into something so tangy.

When he’s satisfied with his mapping of your mouth, he draws your lower lip between his teeth before suckling the tender flesh to have you gasp at the sensation.

Distracted by that alone, you do not notice the hand of his that isn’t currently attached to your waist that snakes slowly downward to slip with ease under your grey sweatpants and between the silk panties that cover your womanhood. Your breath hitches upon the sensation of his long, tattooed fingers dragging themselves against your slit and you’re not surprised at the generous collection of your juices that make his digits glide along your folds, but he hiss he makes is delicious when he curses, “Fuck, Y/N. You’re this wet when I haven’t even touched you? God, you really are a slut for me, huh?”

With one hand, you entangle your fingers along the hair at the nape of his neck as you breathe, “Only for you, Jungkook. This is all for you.”

He plunges one finger inside you at your response and immediately sibilates at the way that your wet warmth welcomes his digit enthusiastically and energetically. With as wet as you are, you know that you will have no problem taking him, the considerable amount of slick between your legs tangible evidence of your need to receive and welcome him into your sex. It takes no time at all for him to add a second finger, one thumb rubbing at your clit as you moan his name, your eyes falling shut as under his ministrations. Warm waves of heat fall over you under his touch and you bask in his avid attention. Without extricating his hand from your pussy, he orders, “Take off your pants, baby. I want to see this pretty cunt while I fuck it.”

You heed his command, one hand disconnecting from around his neck to hurriedly discard your pants and underwear along the floor in one fell swoop as your boyfriend’s hungry irises flick downward to feast upon the visage of your dripping cunt. Something about the way that his fingers disappear into your wet depths transfixes him, the squelching sounds that your pussy makes going straight to his core as arousal flares within him. Wanting to prepare you for him as thoroughly as he can, he continues to swirl his fingers over your clit in measured circles before the two fingers he’s got inside you curl inward in a come hither motion. The sensation has you throwing your head back, a stuttered cry coming from your lips as your fingers tighten in his hair and your unoccupied hand latches onto his strong bicep in search of something, anything to cling to.

His vision darts upward to your face to catch your expression shift to one of pleasure under his touch, thick and heavy desire for you demandant in its need that manifests in the ache of his cock that pulses with need to find its home within your silken walls. He yearns for you so much now that it’s almost painful to bear it when the source of his relief is only a few inches away and, distantly, he thanks the gods above that you’d gotten a birth control implant before you’d both become intimate for there is no greater heaven, he is sure, than when he is burrowing his cock into you velveteen walls and finishing there where he belongs.

He lowers himself to your ear, his warm breath pebbling your skin as he husks, “What do you want me to do to you, baby? Do you want this? Or,” you whimper loudly when his fingers are pulled from your pussy only to hitch your breath upon the hot, hard member he is quick to slide against your generously lubricated folds, the edges of him torturously dragging just above your waiting slit as he smirks darkly, “do you want my fat cock? Fuck, you really just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You mewl when he takes your earlobe between his teeth, his tip brushing along the tender bundle of nerves along your clit, words escaping you beyond his name as you manage, “Jungkook.”

You watch as he angles himself along your sopping entrance, the continued sweep of his dick across your folds an erotic sight that has heat lather itself like honey over your core as you wrap your legs around him in answer. Words elude you like your mind is caught in his maze and with every stroke of his cock between your sensitive labia, your mind is brought to a dead-end that you have the truest of troubles navigating.

Your boyfriend takes your silence as disobedience, both hands laying possessively over pierces you with his commanding gaze, “I asked a question, baby. I require an answer if you want to get fucked,” he punctuates this to mercilessly poke his tip against your entrance while squirm against him, “Use that pretty mouth and tell me what you want or else I’m going to tie you up and leave you crying for me on our bed while you get to watch me finish myself off with my own hand.”

His words have fresh arousal depositing itself within your folds as you mewl, but under his ministrations that have him running his cock along your sex, his dick catches your newly released taint when you wrap your legs around him in your effort to encourage him inside and he hisses at the sensation as your labia embrace and enfold around his member as he squeezes your sides tight enough that there will be marks there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips.

“Tell me now, Y/N, or you’re going to be punished. You’ve been so good, baby. Do you really want to be naughty now?” He rasps as he uses the grip he has on your hips to pull you even closer, the promise of sin flashing dangerously in his eyes through the fringe that falls along them.

Powerless to resist his demand, you submissively whisper, “Want …want your big cock. Want you to fuck me so good with it that I can’t walk and for you to paint my pussy with your seed. God, Jungkook, I want you so much right now. Can I please, please have your cock inside me?”

Your boyfriend leans up to tower imposingly and commandingly over you, excitement flourishing within you in the anticipation of what he’s about to do to you as he smirks while he angles himself toward your entrance and with a flick of a dark brow, he warns, “Prepare yourself, baby, because I’m not going to go easy on you. I’m going to fucking ruin you because that’s what you deserve for getting me so fucking hard for you, (Y/N).”

That is all the caution he gives you before, all in one go, he propels his length inside you with a sharp thrust of his hips. You moan as he enters you and he doesn’t stop until he’s fully sheathed within you, his tip just barely missing the cluster of nerves hidden within your center as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape.

Your walls greet him eagerly and envelop him with fervor only to cause him to groan, “Fuck, baby. How are you still this tight after I fucked your little cunt this morning and last night?”

Lost in the sensation of him buried within you, you can’t find the words to answer him when he starts to impel himself into you without abandon, his irises glazing over in desire as he chases his pleasure. Like this, his bangs hang heavily over him and flit back and forth frenziedly in his ministrations, but you can see his eyes in their entirety now and their darkness seeps straight into your core in the lust that simmers there.

Captured in his consuming gaze, you notice the way that his irises dip from your own to the neglected breasts that bounce in the jostling movement he wracks on you, heat licking up your spine when you watch the tip of his pink tongue hungrily dart across his lips to wet them. Before you realize what’s happened, his hot mouth is upon one of your mounds, his lips suctioning your tit against him with avid voracity as he leaves a purple petal to blossom there under his ministrations. It joins the myriad of others that he’s left from your previous couplings like brands over your skin and you relish in the new addition that marks you as his.

“Shit, I love your tits so much. So soft and warm in my mouth. You really do have the most beautiful breasts, baby.” he mutters as you close your eyes at the sensation of him on you, your fingers leaving their own claim on him as you claw your nails down his back while he pounds into you with vigor. He seems to approve with the way that he speeds his movements like the rabbit he reminds of while in some kind of heat. You throw your head back when his velvety lips enclose around your areola, his hot tongue flicking against your pert nipple unrelentingly as you buck underneath him with a weak, broken mewl. The sinful chuckle that erupts from him is felt before it is heard, the deep thrum of the vibrations dripping right through you and straight to your core that clenches around him in response.

“Please…” You breathe out the only word that can come to mind through the haze of hormones that now cloud your vision.

When you sink one hand into his locks once more to pull at his hair, he makes a sound of disapproval, blown irises heating you like a furnace as he focuses his sight on you when he growls, “I’m not done yet, Y/N. I’m going to suck these pretty nipples of yours until they’re fucking swollen because of me. These,” he blows a warm puff of air against the sensitive areola of your left tit,” are mine. You need to be reminded of that.”

You whimper at that, his other hand palming at your other breast while he rolls your nipple with practiced ease between his fingers. When he punctuates a particularly acute slam of his hips into you with a long, wetted lick of his tongue in a stripe over your engorged bud, that’s what has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you wail, his dick hitting your g-spot with precision that tears the sound from your throat in the way that he pairs it with an agonizingly delicious ministration of his tongue.

He suckles you through it all and when the warmth of his mouth finally leaves you, your breast is freed from him with a ‘pop’ from between his lips and don’t see the way that he’s painted you with his spit, nor the way that he peers longingly at the engorged, abused nipple he’s left in his wake before he’s moving to the other to latch onto your neglected tit like a newborn trying to coax the life-giving essence of milk from you. You cry out when he decides to nip at you, the hand that he’s left on your hip gripping you roughly in effort to keep you in place against his fierce thrusts of his hips inside you.

Before long, you feel your nipple harden under his ministrations and with a groan, he releases you from his mouth only to rise and watch your freshly marked breasts move laboriously up and down in your strained breaths, the gleam of his spit shining prominently under the dimmed lights in the kitchen. Your neck is arched back and your eyes are screwed shut in the picture of submission as you let him use you for his pleasure while he continues to pound into you with the strength of an ox every single time.

You feel fingers grasping your chin to urge you to angle your chin downward as he commands, “Look at me, Y/N. When you’re getting fucked by me, you’re going to watch me and keep those pretty eyes on me so you can burn it into that head of yours that there’s only one man who can make you feel this good.”

If you weren’t panting before, you surely are now as your body heeds his demand, his words playing you like an instrument as heat coils heavily in your core as you take him in cravingly while he coos, “That’s a good girl. So obedient.”

He’s leaning above you now, the muscles of his chest flexing and contracting as he rolls his hips piercingly into you to hit just the right spot time and time again, euphoria steadily building each time. His hair, from all of your attention, is mussed and somehow the man bun he’d been sporting before is looser to allow more of his chocolate tresses to frame his face, his lips reddened from lavishing on your breasts. Sweat sluices his skin everywhere, which somehow makes him even more irresistible as you urge him down for another kiss.

He denies you at first, deciding to smirk cockily as he angles his head and in the movement, you notice the attractive tint of rosiness to his cheeks in the blood that has rushed there through his earlier efforts as he clucks his tongue, “Words, baby. Use that mouth of yours and maybe you’ll get what you want.”

You whine as he rams into you, your vision jerking upward as you wrack your brain to formulate some kind of response through the sea of lust that resides there now. Somehow, you manage, “I-I want another kiss.”

His fingers sink deeper into your waist as he prods, “Yeah? Where do you want my mouth, angel?”

In answer, you take the hand he isn’t holding you with, your digits wrapping around his index finger as you bring it to your mouth to breathe, “Here,” you lower your joined hands in a slow trail down your throat that contradicts the rapid thrusts he impels you with,” here,” you drag his hand through the valley of your breasts until it’s splayed possessively over your stomach, “and here. I want you everywhere, Kookie. Please.”

Your boyfriend licks his lips as he lowers himself down once more to your level as he husks, “Fuck, the things that you do to me, baby. You’ll get what I decide to give you, yeah?”

His mouth descends upon you in a French kiss that puts others to shame, his traitorous tongue leaving no part of your mouth untouched and wrapping possessively around your own in a show of dominance that you have no wish to resist. He presses his lips insistently over yours, consuming you in his wet heat that you relinquish your own mouth to. The hand that had been draped along your side before slides along your waist to relish in your contours, his other hand moving behind your head to hold you there as he drinks his fill of you.

When he breaks for air, you’re breathing heavily and he gives you no time to recover before heavy, lingering kisses are rained down along your jawline and then he’s descending like a stream down the frontal column of your previously marked throat from last night’s exploits with him. He lathers his mouth over you in open-mouthed kisses, his tongue brushing over your sensitive skin while he keen, your back arching up and into him as you press your naked chest against his own to earn a hiss from him while he continues to pound into you relentlessly.

His name leaves your lips in a stuttered breath, “Jungkook.”

Your boyfriend croons, “Be good for me and take it, baby. If you do, I’ll let you cum around my cock.”

Your feel your core tighten and clench compactly around him when his mouth trickles down between your breasts, adding a few more hickeys on the way so that there are now entire constellations of his marks in mottled purples and reds all along your body. When he manages to get to your stomach, that’s when he administers a closed-mouthed kiss that is made domineering by the way his irises peer hotly at you before he parts his lips to lick heatedly above the area of your navel as you whimper out.

With his face inches from your own, you can see the blown out irises that stare hungrily at you, your gaze thirsting to drink him in as the sounds of your coupling fill your ears. With every roll of his hips into you, his balls slap against your pussy mercilessly in combination with the lewd squelches his dick makes as it drives itself into you without pause.

He rams into you now with the might of ten men, your core tightening around him as he groans in his ministrations. He pulls you into him with the hand that is wrapped around your side, your moans joining his when the hand he’d been holding your head with snakes heavily down your body in a hot trail from your neck and then down to your abdomen before stopping torturously just before your glistening folds.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist to urge him where you need him most as you breathe, “C-close, Kookie. I’m almost there. Please, let me cum.”

Your walls are beginning to tense around him with your impending end and he knows how to play your body like an instrument to get it to sing the tune he wants. He watches you plead with your eyes imploringly at him while he denies you what he knows you want most, instead choosing to plunge himself inside you especially hard to cause you to cry out. There is nothing quite like your pussy, nothing quite like the way that you suck him in and refuse to let him go until you’ve ensured that he has released inside you like an uncontrollable pubescent boy learning how to come for the first time.

You make him ravenous and in that appetence, the ambrosia that is you is a delicacy he will never grow tired of. So, he indulges in you and lets himself enjoy your sweet depths for as long as he can until you’re screaming nothing but his name in your need to come undone, your thighs trembling from under him as you curl your fingers unyieldingly around his wrist.

He finally obliges you, his thumb pressing deeply down onto your clit as you wail in pleasure before he’s quickly drawing figure-eight patterns along the bundle of nerves as he pistons in and out of you deliciously. Your walls begin to quiver with your oncoming end and knowing this, your boyfriend stares zealously at you to darkly command, “Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cream all over this cock that you love so much.”

It takes one final slam of his hips into you to have his cock bury itself so deep inside your pussy that it perfectly presses against your g-spot while his fingers rapidly attend to your clit before your body instinctively heeds his order, spots erupting behind your eyelids as thousands of tiny, warm presses inside your sex signal your orgasm while you throw your head back, your eyes still locked on him as your mouth parts and you shriek his name out for the entire apartment complex to hear as your climax explodes with the intensity of a firecracker within you.

He groans at that to utter, “That’s right, baby. Let everyone know who has fucked you so good. Tell them all who owns you.”

Your walls flutter and spasm deliciously around him and your boyfriend grunts at the sensation, loving the way you wrap around him like your pussy was made for this and before he knows it, he’s throbbing and following behind you with his own release as he colors your walls with his creamy seed in violent, energetic bursts.

“Mine. You’re mine,” he repeats over and over as you both ride out your orgasms.

You wrap your arms tighter around him to give him a light peck along his jaw as you say, “Yes, Kookie. I’m all yours. I love you so much.”

He catches his breath as you fondly wipe away the sweat that has collected in beads along his forehead while you tenderly tuck his fringe behind one ear before he earnestly tells you, “I love you more.”

Sometime later he feeds you the stew he made for you as you moan in delight at the warm trickle of it down your throat while he spoons it to you from your place on his lap. Your sounds of enjoyment had been quick to get him hard underneath you as you’d knowingly fidgeted in effort to drag your ass over his member that you found yourself longing for once again. Your antics had proven successful in the fervid way he’d eaten you out like a five course meal before you fed him the dessert of your sweet juices before he’d dragged you to the bedroom for round three.

Hours after that find you both well into the night with the window open so that the moonlight can spill in on the two of you atop your shared bed. You are sure to remind him just how much you love him then when he wakes to find you grinding on top of him as you welcome him once more into your wet warmth that has only and will only ever belong to him.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook #bts

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thankskenpenders · 3 years

Note

its so interesting how Sonic X ended up having rings do basically the same thing as they did in SatAM. Do you think the writers for X were influenced by what SatAM did at all?

There’s a chance it’s just a coincidence. Rings were always meant to be these magical items that power up Sonic, and a somewhat serious action cartoon can’t exactly replicate the game mechanics 1:1. It’s easy to just treat them like Popeye’s spinach, even if I do think giving Sonic a get out of jail free card for most fights leads to a lot of really boring action in both shows

However I DO think it’s very suspicious that the protagonists of both shows have an older male relative who’s a kooky old scientist named Chuck

#badsy-edgecat #ask

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chelseacatgirl · 4 years

Photo

Recently, Nicholas Kole revealed concept art of Nitros Oxide and his Gasmoxian Henchmen from Crash Bandicoot 4: It's About Time, also detailing his race: https://mobile.twitter.com/FromHappyRock/status/1336465139407626241 That inspired me to make Gasmoxian OCs, so meet Kaisui and Ensui, who are twin good-hearted Gasmoxians raised on planet Earth. Kaisui Natsumi *Name meaning "Seaweed" in Japanese* Voiced by Max Mittelman (Like Yusuke Ninomiya from Ni No Kuni) https://youtu.be/ScH3gbQoQcA?t=160 Ensui Natsumi *Name meaning Sea Water in Japanese* Voiced by Cristina Vee (Like Miki Makimura from Devilman Crybaby) https://youtu.be/q4VyfvN0NkI?t=27 Biography: Kaisui and Ensui are born on the planet Gasmoxia, as newly born baby Gasmoxians, their pacifist parents have sent them to a better planet before they were killed by Emperor Velo XXVII' forces for being against them. The planet they were sent to was Earth, where they ended up on the beaches of N. Sanity Island, where they are found and raised by a 15 year old Japanese orphan, Maki Natsumi, even guessing they are siblings, even naming them Kaisui and Ensui she first raised them as pets as they remind her of cuttlefish, but three years later, the twins take on an anthropomorphic appearance, as Maki decided to raise them like a son and daughter, where they are known as Ensui Natsumi and Kaisui Natsumi. While young Gasmoxian twins were still little, Maki made them gifts, a scarf for Kaisui, and a bracelet for Ensui, something they will always treasure. However, years later, when they are all grown up, when Kaisui went home, their home was under attack by Dr. Nefarious Tropy, who was joined by a mysterious group of 5 cat-like aliens from the planet Nekohitomi *Name coming from the Japanese word for "Cat's eye"*, led by the captain of the royal guards, Captain Klaws, where N. Tropy murdered their foster mother Maki for when they thought she was harboring Gasmoxians, because Nitros Oxide, the one who turns losing planets into parking lots, is from that alien race, which the Nekohitomions found them a threat, right before kidnapping Ensui, planning to lock her up in their home planet, but first have to find the crystals, and bring back the Elementals Rok-Ko, Wa-Wa, Py-Ro, and Lo-Lo for Dr. N Tropy to conquer the universe, while these five Nekohitomions are secretly evil who planned to overthrow the royal family from their planet. So Kaisui went off to find his sister throughout the Wumpa Islands and avenge their adopted mother's death. While he went swimming, he met a mutated Woylie Joey named Bumpy, who was also out swimming looking for fish to catch, the two played in the waters for a whike before getting dressed and taking him to meet his friends Coati Jake, Kooky Burra, Sugarchidna, Splatter Platypus, and Outfox Fennec, in the abandoned ancient temple they live in. After Kaisui told the mutants about Maki's death and the kidnapping of his sister Ensui, they agree to help him find and rescue her from N. Tropy. Later, on their journey, they met the Quantum Masks Lani-Loli, Akano, Kupuna-Wa, and Ika-Ika, who warned them that N. Tropy *While he has female Cortex Commando mutant with him being Veronica Fennec, Feisty Jaguarundi, and Quollaby with him and Klaws and his men* has freed the Elementals and are now helping him find the crystals, so they must find them before they do. While searching for the crystals, they would encounter monsters the Elementals created, and had to fight them, they suddenly get help from the younger sister of a N. Tropy, Dr. Madelyn Tropy, who help defeat the monsters and retrieve the crystals, M. Tropy was even told that they have to rescue Ensui too, and she can even tell that they're biologically siblings. They would then finally made it to the space station *The one from Crash Bandicoot 4: It's About Time* where the rift generator is, where they are to confront N. Tropy, Veronica, Feisty, Quollaby, and the Elementals, as well as Captain Klaws and his henchmen, who are powering it up with the one of the master crystals and the power of the Elementals too. Even having to find Ensui, so they battled the villains as M. Tropy and N. Tropy's clash, and as well as the Quantum Masks and the Elementals' clash, combined with Kaisui destroying the Rift Generator caused the phenomenon called the Radical Wave *Referenced to the game company Radical Entertainment, also similar to the Super Genesis Wave from Archie Sonic Comics, except it doesn't alter the continuity* that altered how the universe looked as well as everyone looking different *Where the events of Crash of the Titans and its cartoon shorts that place before then, Crash Bandicoot: Mutant Island, Crash: Mind Over Mutant, Crash Nitro Kart 2, and Crash Bandicoot Nitro Kart 3D took place*, except for those aboard the space station and the planet Nekohitomi and the ones within it, the master crystal had also transported them to that said planet. Unfortunately when they are stranded on planet Nekohitomi, they were separated from each other where Bumpy, Jake, Kooky, Sugar, Splatter, Outfox, and Ensui *Who found her brother's scarf* are with the Tropy Siblings and Captain Klaws and his four henchmen, who are in a nearby Nekohitomion city where Klaws took them to the royal castle meeting King Li Meozo and Queen Fee Meozo of planet Nekohitomi and their daughter, Princess Kitticatti Aletheia Meozo, the king is not pleased with outsiders, especially a Gasmoxian Ensui, while N. Tropy lies about the good mutants harboring two Gasmoxians and insists they will be locked up, much to their dismay because they're nice to them, while M. Tropy detests the idea and asks King Meozo to spare them as she promised to watch them. King Li allows them to stay, all while Kitticatti *Nicknamed Kitty* instantly befriend them. Meanwhile Kaisui is all alone in the wilderness of the planet, where he then went of to find his friends and go back home to Earth. Later, he was captured by the younger brother of Captain Klaws, Dr. Prowlzer, a mad scientist, who has a gang of his own, who locked him up like if he were a pet. Prowlzer is also allies with his brother plotting to betray the royal family. As for the Quantum Masks and the Elementals, they were in suspended animation on the planet. Princess Kitty is the only one who is suspicious of Captain Klaws' evil plans, all while her mother is more understanding than her father, so Dr. Madelyn Tropy decided to bring Ensui and the good mutants with them to find her brother which and the Quantum Masks and the Elementals, as of right now due to the Radical Wave nobody is able to leave Earth. After rescuing the Quantum Masks around the planet *Which causes the events of Crash of the Titans to change from the mobile version, to GBA version, two DS versions, then into the console version through resets* had to face each of the Elementals before freeing them from suspended animation. Then afterwards are able to rescue Kaisui from Prowlzer as he was reunited with his sister, before they were confronted by Klaws and his gang and N. Tropy and the female Cortex Commandos, who attacked the kingdom and took the crystals, right before Klaws himself betrayed the Commandos, much to N. Tropy's dismay as they were attacked by them before kidnapping the masks, now they have to stop Klaws. The Gasmoxian siblings and their allies have returned to the city to see Klaws gaining power from the Quantum Masks and Elementals so they worked together to fight him, until he was defeated and the masks were freed. Captain Klaws, Dr. Prowlzer, and their gang were arrested for treason by the King as he apologize for doubting them and admitted that Ensui and Kaisui are not bad at all. Meanwhile the Quantum Masks informed them that the Radical Wave will end in about a year which will break the barrier, so they stayed on Nekohitomi until the Radical Wave expired *Which happened after CBNK3D*, where the whole universe, including all within it returned to their previous appearance while it is now safe for them to return to Earth, hoping to see Kitty and their people someday. To their surprise, Kaisui and Ensui saw their foster mother Maki, alive, as the Quantum Masks learned she resurrected from the end of the Radical Wave, she did not remember her own death but was happy to see them again, even meeting their new friends, while they continue to live happy lives in the Wumpa Islands. They would meet Crash Bandicoot and his friends and foes, as well as Nitros Oxide and Emperor Velo XXVII's empire 3 years later. Drawn on ibisPaint X on my Samsung Galaxy Tab A. Crash Bandicoot series (c) Activision Kaisui Natsumi and Ensui Natsumi (c) Me

#Crash Bandicoot #Kaisui Natsumi #Ensui Natsumi

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xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 5 years

Text

Boys in Luv - Intro (1)

BTS x Reader - various but mainly Jungkook or Yoongi. No Jin sorry!

Genre: Smut, Fluff + Angst (depending on what decisions you choose)

Word Count: 617 for this section (Various for other sections ranging from 500 to 2,000+)

Concept: You work for Big Hit as a sort of live-in PA/Dorm mom for BTS and everything is fine until you get involved with one of the boys.

Masterlist

“Aiieeeshh what the fuck?” complains Yoongi rubbing his eyes as he stumbles into the living room, still half-asleep.

“It’s not me!” objects Jimin, ever the angelic Boy Scout. “It’s Jeongguk. He’s being a ‘little drama queen’ [he makes imaginary quotation marks with his fingers around the English phrase] cos Taehyung beat him at Mario Kart again.” Yoongi darts a glance at a very smug Taehyung and a sulky Jeongguk and can’t resist his trademark smirk.

“Fine. But is that any reason to wake me?” he growls, striding into the kitchen in search of snacks. You dig up his favourites from the back of the cupboard shelf where you’ve hidden them from an enterprising Jin. Yoongi winks at you in thanks, then retreats back into his bedroom, muttering darkly.

Tae is prancing around doing some kind of victory dance, while Jimin chases Jeongguk, who seems unwilling to relinquish the game controller. Jeongguk comes tearing into the kitchen, almost knocking half the dinner ingredients off the table, and making a noise like a banshee. He is followed by a giggly Jimin doing his best Sonic the Hedgehog impression who bowls into you, then backs out of the room, still giggling but bowing and apologizing profusely. You sigh and follow them back into the living room to intervene.

“I told you to be quiet so Yoongi can sleep. Or at least to keep the drama to a minimum” you tell the three younger men, who look mildly chastised, but then continue making bets in fierce whispers on who will win the next round.

Jimin and Taehyung settle into the couch, controllers at the ready and Jeongguk drifts into the kitchen behind you. Oh. You should have guessed. He’s after snacks. You gesture past yourself to the cupboards, but he doesn’t respond, instead eyeing you intently.

“Well it’s my turn anyway,” announces Jimin. “I get to challenge the [and he lays great emphasis on the word] winner, remember?” Taehyung gloats, which doesn’t surprise you, but Jeongguk gives in mildly, which does surprise you.

“What is it Kookie?” you ask, slightly exasperated, but not enough to not use his pet name. He cocks his head to one side, studying you, with a tiny little smirk playing around his lips. Then he glances up at the cupboard behind you.

“I’m not giving you Yoongi’s snacks,” you sigh. “He’s already pissed at you anyway. Why would you want to annoy him more?” He remains silent, still tormenting you with that adorable little smile. Then he saunters past you, giving you a teasing glimpse of his flat stomach as he lifts the hem of his shirt to scratch himself. You would swear he did that on purpose, although he studiously avoids eye-contact. Despite this elaborate avoidance of your eyes, he continues to study you intently, and you have to wonder what he’s up to this time. He is very cute. But troublemaker though he is, he’s the maknae and the others are super protective of him, no matter how annoyed they may get with him sometimes. So you’re a little shocked when he shakes his head in response to your question about the snacks, leans back against the counter, locks eyes with you and quite deliberately flashes you his perfect abs. You try not to stare as he puts his hand out to take yours.

“Mwoh Jeongguk?” you ask, sounding more annoyed than you are because you’re a bit flustered by his little performance, which you have to assume is intended to be innocent. Or maybe not so innocent…He draws you towards him, checks back over his shoulder to make sure he’s not being watched, then angles his head for a kiss. What the fuck?!

If you let Jeongguk kiss you

If you prefer to check on Yoongi

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kookie-doodles · 8 months

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Sonookie Mini Comic #2 feat. Tails

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Originally Uploaded on:

Twitter’s Art Account on August 1st, 2023

Instagram’s Art Account on August 1st, 2023

Sonookie Mini Comic #3 feat. Amy

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Originally Uploaded on:

Twitter’s Art Account on August 17th, 2023

Instagram’s Art Account on August 17th, 2023

Sonookie Mini Comic #3 feat. Shadow

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Originally Uploaded on:

Twitter’s Art Account on August 28th, 2023

Instagram’s Art Account on August 28th, 2023

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Sonookie Mini Comic #4 feat. Blaze

#Kookie Draws #Project K AU #Project Katedown AU #Sonookie #Sonamy #Sonic x Kookie #Kookie Star the Hedgecat #SonicTheHedgehog #ShadowTheHedgehog #Miles Tails Prower #Blaze the Cat #Amy Rose #sonicartist #Sonic OC Origin Story #Sonic OC

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dustedmagazine · 5 years

Text

Dust, Volume 5, Number 12

Matthew J. Rolin

Ned Starke was right. Winter is coming, and maybe, for our Chicago and Eastern Seaboard contingent, it’s here. That’s a good excuse to find a big comfy chair near the stereo and dig into some new music. This time we offer some hip hop, some finger picking, some music concrete, some indie pop and, just this once, a Broadway musical. Contributors include Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Justin Cober-Lake, Jonathan Shaw, Bill Meyer and Andrew Forell. Stay warm.

ALLBLACK x Offset Jim — 22nd Ways (Play Runners Association)

ALLBLACK and Offset Jim have collaborated on a few tracks before, but this is their first release together. Their differences, which are significant, make the disc enjoyable through and through. Offset Jim has a poker face delivery that can fool anybody into thinking he’s deadly serious when he’s clearly having fun. ALLBLACK, on the other hand, is known for his goofy humor, but his goofiness is a mask that obscures a poetic psycho killer. Their combination of a healthy dose of humor and true-to-the-streets seriousness—seen here— makes a case for tolerating all kinds of oddball pairings:

“Don't leave the house without your makeup kit Diss songs about your real daddy just won't stick Hey, bitch, say, bitch, I know you miss this demon dick Please comb Max hair, take off them wack outfits”

Ray Garraty

David Byrne — American Utopia (Nonesuch)

youtube

If you live long enough, everything that seemed edgy and electrifying in your youth will turn safe and comfortable in middle age. You’ll buy festival tickets with access to couches, tents and air conditioning. Clash songs will turn up in Jaguar ads. Kids at the playground will run around sporting your Black Flag tee-shirt. You may even find yourself in a $250 seat, at a beautiful theater, with your beautiful wife, seeing “American Utopia,” David Byrne’s new jukebox musical, and, to borrow a phrase, you may ask yourself, “How did I get here?” And look, you could do worse. These are wonderful songs, still prickly and spare even now in full orchestral arrangements, still booming with cross-currented, afro-beat rhythms (Byrne got to that early on, give him credit), still buoyed with a scratchy, ironic, ebullient pulse of life. It’s hard to say what plot line stitches together “Born Under Punches,” “Every Day is a Miracle,” “Burning Down the House” and “Road to Nowhere,” or how absorbing the connective narrative may be. It’s not, obviously, as kinetic and daring as the original arrangements, stitched together with shoe-laces, stuttering with anxiety, bounced and jittered by the back line of Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz, clad in an absurdly oversized suit. And, yet, it’s not so bad and if I had three big bills to spend on a night at the theater, I might just want to see it re-enacted. Because I’ve gotten safe and comfortable, too, and anyway, better that than the Springsteen show.

Jennifer Kelly

Charly Bliss — Supermoon EP (Barsuk)

Supermoon by Charly Bliss

Charly Bliss’ latest release Supermoon, collects five tracks written during the Young Enough sessions that didn’t make the final cut. The EP showcases the band transitioning from the grungy edge of their debut Guppy to the more polished pop sound of its successor. Eva Hendricks is one of the moment’s most distinctive voices, and these songs find her grappling with the themes so tellingly addressed on Young Enough. Although the songs here deserve release, the interest is in what they don’t do. More than sketches, they are less lyrically formed than those on the album, more guitar driven and without the big pop pay offs. The band, Hendricks on guitar and vocals, her brother Sam on drums, guitarist Spencer Fox and bassist Dan Shure still produce a hooky, engaging record which will appeal to fans. Newcomers might want to start with the albums but Supermoon is not without its moments.

Andrew Forell

Cheval Sombre — Been a Lover b/w The Calfless Cow (Market Square)

Cheval Sombre - Been a Lover b/w The Calfless Cow by Market Square Recordings

Cheval Sombre teamed with Luna/Galaxie 500’s Dean Wareham last year for a haunting batch of cowboy songs that found, as I put it in my Dusted review, “unfamiliar shadows and crevices in some very familiar material.” Now comes Cheval Sombre, otherwise known as Chris Porpora, with a brace of soft, dreamy folk-turned-psychedelic songs, one a gently sorrowful original, the other a cover of Alasdair Roberts. “Been a Lover” slow-strums through a whistling canyons of dreams, wistfully surveying the remnants of a long-standing relationship. It has the nodding, skeletal grace of Sonic Boom’s acoustic “Angel,” perhaps no coincidence since the Spaceman 3 songwriter produced the album. “The Calfless Cow” anchors a bit more in folk blues picking, though Porpora’s soft, prayerful vocals float free above the foundations. Both songs feel like spectral images leaving traceries on unexposed film—unsolid and evocative and mysteriously, inexplicably there.

Jennifer Kelly

Cigarettes After Sex — Cry (Partisan Records)

Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

Cigarettes After Sex’s 2017 debut album was a quite lovely collection of slow-core, lust-lorn dream pop. On the follow up Cry Greg Gonzalez (vocals, guitar), Phillip Tubbs (keys), Randall Miller (bass) and Jacob Tomsky (drums) double down on their signature sound with half the effect. The melodies are still here, the delicate restraint also, Gonzalez’ voice whispers seductively sweet nothings but this time around it is largely nothings he’s working with. It’s not that this is a terrible record, it’s more that the wreaths of gossamer amount to not much. Lacking the humorous touches of the debut, Cry suffers from Gonzalez’ sometimes witless and earnest lyrics which are mirrored in the lackluster pace which makes one desperate for the sex to be over so one can get back to smoking. Cry aims for Lynch/Badalamenti atmospherics and hits them occasionally but too often lapses into Hallmark sentimentalism. For an album ostensibly about romantic and physical love Cry is dispiritingly dry. There is only ash on these sheets. Serge Gainsbourg is somewhere rolling his eyes, and a gasper, in the velvet boudoir of eternity.

Andrew Forell

Lucy Dacus — 2019 (Matador)

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Between Historian and boygenius, Lucy Dacus had a pretty memorable 2018. It makes sense that she'd want to document 2019. What she did instead was release a series of holiday-ish tracks over the course of the year and then collect them as the 2019 EP. The covers will likely get the most attention, whether her loving take on Edith Piaf's “La vie en rose” or the rocking rendition of Wham!'s “Last Christmas.” Dacus doesn't perform these songs with any sense of snark; she's both enjoying herself and invested. Counting Bruce Springsteen's birthday as a holiday might be silly, but she nails “Dancing in the Dark,” turning it to her own aesthetic. The weird one here is “In the Air Tonight,” which smacks of irony and whatever we call guilty pleasures these days, but she plays it straight, arguing for it as a spooky Halloween cut, and sort of pulls it off.

Focusing on the covers might lead listeners to forget how good a songwriter she is. The Mother's Day “My Mother & I” feels thoroughly like a Dacus number, opening with contemplation: “My mother hates her body / We share the same outline / She swears that she loves mine.” Holidays aren't easy. “Fool's Gold” (stick this New Year's track first or last) falls like snow, laden with regret and rationalization. Dacus works through holidays with care and concern. The covers might be fun (even the Phil Collins number works as a curiosity), but when she lets the more conflicted thoughts come through, as on “Forever Half Mast,” she maintains the hot streak. The EP might be a bit of a diversion, but its secret complexity makes it more surprisingly forceful. Justin Cober-Lake

Kool Keith — Computer Technology (Fat Beats)

Computer Technology by Kool Keith

Naming an album Computer Technology in 2019 is like calling a 1950 disc A Light Bulb. Ironic Luddite-ness is a part of the charm of the new Kool Keith’s album, his second this year. The record has a cyberpunk-ish (circa 1984) feel, thanks to wacky, early electronics-like beats that no sane hip hop artist today would agree to rap over. But who said Kool Keith was sane? He’s like a computer virus here, infesting a modern culture he views with disdain. His kooky brags could be written off as old man rants if he been in the rap game since day one. On “Computer Technology” he says: ‘You need to sit down and slow down’, yet he himself shows no signs of slowing down.

If Kool Keith’s 1980s science rap messed around in a high school lab, he’s now a tenured professor in hip hop science blowing up the joint.

Ray Garraty

Leech — Data Horde (Peak Oil)

Data Horde by Leech

Brian Foote’s work has a knack for showing up in slightly unexpected and subtly crucial places, whether it’s behind the scenes at Kranky and his own Peak Oil imprint, or as a member at times of Fontanelle or Nudge, or even just helping out Stephen Malkmus with drums. On Data Horde, his debut LP of electronic music under his Leech moniker, Foote works with his customary quiet assurance and subtly radical take on things, delivering a brief but satisfying set of bespoke productions that somehow evoke acid and ambient tinges at the same time, feinting towards full-out jungle eruptions before turning the corner and somehow naturally going somewhere much more minimal. Whether it’s the skittering, pulsing “Brace” or the lush and aptly-named “Nimble”, the results are consistently satisfying and the six tracks here suggest that we could stand to hear a lot more from Leech.

Ian Mathers

Midnight Odyssey — Biolume Part 1: In Tartarean Chains (I, Voidhanger)

Biolume Part 1 - In Tartarean Chains by MIDNIGHT ODYSSEY

Midnight Odyssey’s massive new record sounds like what might happen if Gary Numan’s Tubeway Army smoked up a bunch of Walter White’s finest product and decided that they must cover Pink Floyd’s Live at Pompei, complete with ruins and really big gongs. It’s interstellar. It’s perversely grandiose. The synths soar and rumble, the vocals come in mournful choral arrangements, the low end thunders and occasionally explodes into blast-beat barrage. It’s almost impossible to take seriously, and it’s presented with what seems like absolute seriousness. In any case, there’s a lot of it: seven tracks, all of which exceed the eight-minute mark, and most of which moan and intone and resonate well beyond ten minutes. You’ve got to give it to Dis Pater, the only identified member of Midnight Odyssey — he really means it. But it’s often hard to tell if Biolume Part 1 (Pater threatens that there are two more parts to come) is the product of an unchecked, idiosyncratically powerful vision or just goofball cosmological schmaltz. To this reviewer, it’s undecidable. And that’s interesting.

Jonathan Shaw

Nakhane — You Will Not Die

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South African singer Nakhane Touré has a voice that can stop you in your tracks when he unleashes it, and a willingness to tackle uncomfortable topics (homosexuality, colonialism, and the way the imported Presbyterian church interacts with both) that’s seen him both praised and threatened in his homeland. You Will Not Die marks a shift in Nakhane’s music, both in terms of how directly and intensely he engages with those places where the sacred rubs up against, not so much the profane but the disavowed, even while sonically everything is lusher and brighter, whether it’s the slinky electroglam of “Interloper” or the bell-tolling balladry of “Presbyteria.” For once it’s worth seeking the deluxe edition, for the Bowie-esque Anohni duet “New Brighton” and the defiantly melancholy cover of “Age of Consent” alone.

Matthew J. Rolin — Matthew J. Rolin (Feeding Tube)

Matthew J. Rolin by Matthew J. Rolin

Matthew J. Rolin steps to the head of the latest class of American Primitive guitarists on this self-titled debut LP. He is currently a resident of Columbus, Ohio, but his main inspirations from within the genre are Chicagoan. Reportedly a Ryley Walker concert sent him down the solo guitar path, but the one time this reviewer caught him in concert, Rolin only made one substance-oriented statement throughout the set, and it was more of a shy assertion than an extravagant boast. His sound more than pays the toll. Bright and ringing on 12 strings, pithy and structurally sound on six, he makes sparing use of outdoor sound and keyboard drones that bring Daniel Bachman to mind. Like Bachman did on his early records, Rolin often relies upon the rush of his fingerpicking to draw the listener along, and what do you know? It works.

Bill Meyer

Claire Rousay — Aerophobia (Astral Spirits)

Aerophobia by Claire Rousay

To watch Claire Rousay perform is to see the process of deciding made visual. You can’t put that on a tape, but you can make the tape a symbolic and communicative object. To see Rousay repeatedly, or to play her recordings in sequence, is to hear an artist who is rapidly transforming. This one was already a bit behind her development when it was released, but that can be turned into a statement, too. Perhaps the title Aerophobia, which means fear of flying, is a critique of the tape’s essentially musical content? It is a series of drum solos, unlike the more the more recent t4t, which includes self-revealing speech and household sounds. If so, that critique does not reproach the music itself, nor should it. Even when you can’t see her, you can hear her sonic resourcefulness and appreciate the movement and shape she articulates with sound.

Bill Meyer

Colin Andrew Sheffield & James Eck Rippie — Exploded View (Elevator Bath)

exploded view by colin andrew sheffield & james eck rippie

Colin Andrew Sheffield, who is the proprietor of the Elevator Bath imprint, and James Eck Rippie, who does sound work for Hollywood movies, have this understanding in common: they know that you gotta break things to make things. The things in question don’t even have to be intact when you start; at any rate, the feedback, microphone bumps, blips and skips that make up this 19-minute long piece of musique concrete sound like the product of generations of handling. It all feels a bit like you’re hearing a scan of the shortwave bands from inside the radio, which makes for delightfully disorienting listening.

Bill Meyer

Ubik — Next Phase (Iron Lung)

Next Phase MLP (LUNGS-148) by UBIK

Philip K. Dick’s whacko-existentialist-corporate-satire-cum-SF-novel Ubik turns 50 this year, and serendipitously, Australian punks Ubik have released this snarling, tuneful EP into the world. There’s a whole lot of British street punk, c. 1982, in Ubik’s sound, especially if that genre tag and year make you flash on Lurkers, Abrasive Wheels and Angelic Upstarts — bands that knew how to string melodic hooks together, and bands that had pretty solid lefty politics. Ubik’s songs couple street punk’s populist (in the pre-Trump sense) fist-pumping with a spastic, elastic angularity, giving the tracks just enough of a weirdo vibe that the band’s name makes sense. The combination of elements is vividly present in “John Wayne (Is a Cowboy (and Is on Twitter)),” a hugely fun punk song that registers a fair degree of ideological venom as it bashes and speeds along. Somewhere, Horselover Fat is nodding his head and smiling.

Jonathan Shaw

Uranium Club — Two Things at Once (Sub Pop)

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Uranium Club (sometimes Minneapolis Uranium club) made one of the best punk albums of this year in The Cosmo Cleaners. “A visionary insanity, backed by impressive musical chops,” I opined in Dusted last April, setting off a frenzy of interest and an epic major label bidding war. Just kidding. Hardly anyone noticed. Uranium Club was this year’s Patois Counselors, a band so good that it made no sense that no one knew about them. But, fast forward to now and LOOK at the heading of this review! Sub Pop noticed and included Uranium Club in its storied singles club. And why not? The bluntly named “Two Things at Once,” (Parts I and 2), is just as tightly, maniacally wound as the full-length, just as gloriously, spikily confrontational. “Part 1” scrambles madly, pulling hair out by the roots as it agitatedly considers “our children’s creativity” and whether “I’m too young to die.” It’s like Fire Engines, but faster and crazier and with big pieces of machinery working loose and flying off the sides. “Part 2” runs slower and more lyrically but with no less intensity, big flayed slashes of discord rupturing its meditative strumming. There are no words in it, and yet you sense deep, obsessive bouts of agitation driving its motor, even when the brass comes in, unexpectedly, mournfully, near the end. This is the good stuff, and no one wants you to know about it. Except me. And now Sub Pop. Don’t miss out.

Jennifer Kelly

Various Artists— Come on up to the House: Women Sing Waits (Dualtone)

Come On Up To The House: Women Sing Waits by Dualtone Music Group, Inc.

Tom Waits’ gravelly voice is embedded deep in the fabric of how we think of Tom Waits songs. You can’t think of “Come On Up to the House” without sandpapery catch in its gospel curves, or of “Downtown Train” without his strangled desolation; he is the songs, and if you don’t like the way he sings, you’ve probably never cared much for his recordings. And yet, here, in this all-woman, star-studded, country-centric collection of covers, you can hear, maybe for the first time, how gracefully constructed these songs are, how pretty the melodies, how well the lyrics fit to them. You cannot believe how different these songs sound with women singing. It is truly revelatory. Contributors include big stars (Aimee Mann, Corinne Rae Bailey), living legends (Iris Dement, Roseanne Cash), up-and-comers (Courtney Marie Andrews, Phoebe Bridgers) and a few emerging artists (Joseph, The Wild Reeds), and all have a case to make. Phoebe Bridgers distills “Georgia Lee” into a quiet, tragic purity, while Angie McMahon finds a private, inward-looking clarity in “Take It With Me.” Courtney Marie Andrews blows up “Downtown Train,” into a swaggering country anthem, while Roseanne Cash infuses “Time” with a warm, unforced glow. These versions transform weird, twisted reveries into American songbook classics, which is what they maybe were, under all that growling, all along.

Jennifer Kelly

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attract-mode-collective · 7 years

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Ready To Wear, Ready To Play

As previously noted, there’s been yet another change in direction for the Attract Mode blog… which I have dubbed Version 2.8 Final CE EX Λ Core Plus Alpha. BTW/FYI. But yeah, been posting on Twitter, a lot. So much so that you may have missed something, so here’s a recap!

Note: was originally going to cover everything tweeted throughout the month, but because there’s so much to cover (and February’s short)… am guessing bi-weekly might be the way to go. Am also going to present things mostly in order.

K, enough chatter: at the very top is another fine example of a Famicom being the ultimate in fashion accessory (via nintendu). And here we have, not designer threads but designer plastic (via gamefreaksnz)...

Speaking of plastic, Sega (or someone who got Sega’s blessing, or maybe not even) made Super Monkey Ball figures? Guess so (via magimacaque)...

I was under the belief that, if I truly wanted to make an impact with the relaunch of the Attract Mode Twitter, I couldn’t just post one single piece of Klonoa fan art, but two...

And I only have one example of Cuphead fan art, but it’s the one that counts (via jothelion)...

It was Kyle who helped kick the Attract Mode Twitter’s rebirth into high gear, with the reveal of his Nintendo Power covers. So to help replay the favor, I must insistent that everyone purchase the hard copy of RPG_Friends (which I first mentioned here)...

Nothing makes me happier than seeing such a dense assortment of Japanese game stuffs (via peazy86)...

... Yet that being said, I also believe less can be more, plus a nice breeze while playing Secret of Mana is... well... nice (via sixteen-bit.tumblr)

These gamer chairs perfectly embody Japanese sensibilities when it comes to furniture, plus are a total 180 to the junk they peddle in the US (via shmups)...

Time for another excellent toco toco vid, this one features your fave old school Capcom illustrator, and mine, Akiman…

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There's so much I love about this interview with the creator of Hong Kong 1997, whose goal was "to make the worst game possible”. Though this picture of the guy is near the top of my list...

I love these kooky kids, thinking they could possibly get away with stealing an entire Final Fight arcade cab (via videogamead)...

Yeah, I feel the same way kid (via tvgame)...

"This is Jesus. He lives inside my Neo Geo MVS cabinet. He was there when I got it. He is glorious." (via arcadephile)...

The pathos that is Sub Zero at the bat, in four modded screenshots(via lanceboyles)...

The pathos that is the Kachō interacting with kids, in just three YouTube screengrabs (via gaijira)...

And the pathos that is Splatoon 2, via two screengrabs and the piece of fan art that resulted (via lunaticobscurity)...

Though in addition to pathos, Splatoon is also filled to the brim with intensity (via thewaragainstgiygas)...

Welcome to VIOLENT CITY (via shmups)...

Also, STAY CHILL (via paperbeatsscissors)...

Not that any band in which music is performed via guitars hooked up to Famicoms is all that typical to being with, but this one is most definitely not typical (via miki800.com)...

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This "what the hell is going on exactly" illustration has motivated me to finally Wario Land a spin at long last (via it8bit)...

Remember Absolutely Rose Street, the Beverly Hills 90210 meets Degrassi meets Wayne’s World-esque show that was actually an infomercial for the Sega 32X in disguise that I wrote about a little whiles ago? Well here's ad for it (via oldgamemags)...

I'm a total sucker for old Japanese video game mags, primarily ones featuring models/statues on the cover (via miki800)...

Another cover to an old Japanese game rag, this one featuring the very first Metal Gear; I wonder if this slightly cutesy take helped to inspire the Metal Gear we meet in Snatcher (via mendelpalace)...

Here we have a page from an 11 page comic, done in a single sitting, for an event that celebrates various pairings of Solid Snake/Otacon, one that's called Snot Week for whatever reason (via millionfish)...

I want this woman to be my mom (via cyberfights)...

Am obsessed with this image of a man playing Xevious in the middle of a desert that's clearly fabricated and clearly from the 80s (via shmups)...

mendelpalace sez: "This picture gives me anxiety" and I feel exactly the same...

This is comparable to my own morning commute, except for the lack of floating cherry blossom petals and various other differences (via tightenupthe)...

Spring is almost here, which means it's time for a new wardrobe, which really means it's time to get new PaRappa attire (via miki800.com)...

If a glitched Nintendo logo when booting up a Game Boy looks fashionable to you, you're in luck (via gameandgraphics)...

Tho if a glitched Game Boy Advance start up is more your style (via corruptionasart)...

Has anyone received this Mega Drive/Genesis chiptune album on a cart (described as a "16-bit VMU") yet? (via catskullelectronics)

Ever wonder what a 3 part symphony, one performed via 5 different Nintendo DSs and 5 different copies of Electroplankton, sounds like? Well wonder no more (via mendelpalace)...

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And ever wonder what an Italian-based, US-born R&B, blues and disco singer (which is how Wikipedia describes Ronnie Jones) thought of video games in the year 1980? Again, wonder no more (via aestheticoftheday)...

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The new DDR, which will record your performance and also add snazzy video effects, is my early contender for GOTY 2018 (via @Sega_AM2)...

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I will never grow tired or bored of watching this run cycle, ever (via shmups)...

What appears to be a Nier motion study (via sixteen-bit)...

Sakura-ha (via rosscountertv)..

To commemorate the discontinuation of the Kinect sensor (via prostheticknowledge)...

Google Translate took the original Korean & translated it as: "Ittsumi! Maria", which @NotLikeFreddy re-translated as: "It's-a me, Mary-o"...

The medium of video games most certainly has many mountains to overcome yet, but there's little denying that we've made some progress nonetheless (via videofame)...

"I have to go now. My planet needs me.” (via sixteen-bit)...

Cuz it's been a while since I shared a gif from Sin & Punishment (via n64thstreet)...

The SNES & Genesis had cool accessories and all, yet I often wonder what it would have been like if 3D printers & Etsy were around back then...

Pretty much the cutest lil thing you'll see all day is this Genesis CDX hooked up to a 5″ Sony PVM (via decideweapons)...

“'Club Sega during the Snow' is a top-tier aesthetic, I think." (via pr0jectneedlemouse)

I love old VG sound team photos, especially when they double as old band photos, like Capcom's Alph Lyra here (via videogamesdensetsu)...

You all have no idea how happy I am to finally see a decent sized version of the flyer for Deadly Sport... again, no idea (via melvanainchains)...

Here's an illustration of Terry Bogard eating a hot dog (with the rest of his Fatal Fury posse chowing down as well)...

... Turns out, Terry's affinity for hot dogs is somewhat of a thing (via busterwolf)....

... Or, perhaps SNK as a whole are simply huge fans of hot dogs? (via meldowiseau)

I absolutely love this familiar, yet thoroughly refreshing take on Samus (via lady--peaches)...

And nothing new to report, as it pertains to @deimosremus's Metroid redesign, so am just going to continue staring at this some more...

Love Hultén is mostly known for their handheld creations, like the Pixel Vision, though I mostly dig their full-sized cabinet, the Kabin 1...

"Damn Tecmo never let Microsoft live that design down" (via sixteen-bit)...

Cuz I recently began replaying Breath of the Wild...got the Switch version for the gf on her birthday... some fan art (via it8bit)...

I've seen my fair share of comics with Sonic & Tails, but never one that addresses the debug mode from the original Genesis games (via vg-libary)...

Here we have two cats, from the game Jingle Cats, occupied with the fridge (via obscurevideogames)...

And here we have just one cat, from the Sailor Moon anime, occupied with an arcade game that I am unable to identify (via sailormoonreblogs)...

Can you believe the music video for @MissyElliott's Sock It 2 Me is over 20 years old? Crazy, I know...

Speaking of Mega Man, I guess I need to finally check out Mega Man Zero, cuz apparently X goes through some kind of religious conversion or something (via omnilunary)...

And here we have Cut Man, the one we all know (and love) from Mega Man meeting his Captain N doppelganger (via mewymarsher)...

I absolutely need this on a shirt or jacket (via @buzz_clik)...

It's always a thrill, seeing a fighting stick made out of tupperware in the wild for the very first time, isn't it? (via @silva_hime)

Yes. Fighting Layer is that game in which you jump off a folding chair to smash another one on the head of a gigantic falcon (via lordmo)...

Tonight’s episode: PINBALL ALCHEMIST (via tonights-episode)...

Here we have a Tumblr thread giving suggestions on how to access a seemingly inaccessible area of a hotel lobby; my fave, for perhaps obvious reasons, is the ring path/light speed dash combo from Sonic Adventure...

Am kinda hungry atm and feel like slicing & dicing some celery & onions, plus making some Julienne Fries; anyone got a copy of Sonic 2 handy? (via sonicthehedgeblog)

A. thanks to this fan art, I now know you can also play OutRun in Hokuto no Ken PS4! & B. great piece & all, but...still a shame that Alex Kidd is missing (via inspiredfatty)...

I've legit been staring at these rotating NES and SNES gifs all day long (via 3d-bear)...

These photos from the Dreamcast Mobile Assault Tour, circa the late 90s, right before the system's launch are very... and I mean VERY... 90s (via posthumanwanderings)...

"What will your next dream be?" (via 081594)

You know that UK/US reality show Undercover Boss, in which a billionaire CEO disguises himself as the new mailroom guy? Well there's apparently a version in Japan, with an episode starring the president of Taito (via @MMCafe_Prof)...

On Valentine's Day I came across a horror movies blog that presented various horror movie Valentines, including one for Jason Voorhees that references Friday The 13th for NES (via cameraviscera.com)...

Also, for Valentine's, my girlfriend made me pixelated chocolate; the pic does the blue hearts in particular zero justice, which look like plastic toys, but most assuredly are made of milk chocolate...

... And that’s it for now! The rest of February coming up in a few!

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