#blog theme song

[onizukasenseisfavouritegirl]

And what are you gonna do, old man? Punish me? I bet you can't even lift it~

[honeycove-crossing]

— Studio Ghibli Island songs —

[evergreen-endo]

WE PLAY THE SAME KEYS AT DIFFERENT TIMES — r. kaji.

cw: 18+ mdni, f! reader, car sex, spit. wc: 0.8k a/n: unedited. thought about him on my drive home. enjoy. 

You and Kaji can’t ever just listen to music in the car together.

He really never intended for it to be like this at first— but once it happened the first time, it’s all he could think of the next time he got in his car. It’s the same every time; inviting you for a ride to listen to a tune that’s stuck in his head, one he claims he can’t get rid of until he hears it again. But with him, it can never just be one song. There are too many that make him think of you these days, despite his best efforts to press skip on those in particular. 

He drives around until night falls, and you’ve both shared everything you’ve had on repeat this week. As he pulls onto the highway, the low vibration of his car picking up speed thrums against your thighs, much like the guitar blaring through his speakers. The low light of the city falls on his hands as he steers with practiced motion, heel of his palm flat against the leather. Warm yellow light trails along the veins on his arms, dragging your gaze wherever it touches. It highlights the rim of his features for a split second, long enough to see the way he side eyes you.

He lets out a huff, leaning back against the headrest to hide in the dark, though it’s futile. As he whirrs past the overheads, the light guides your gaze to his thighs, spread lazily even with one foot on the gas, and up, up, up to…oh. It’s only a second that you see it before light rushes past, and you wait on the next street light to illuminate him. It takes its time, stretching slowly over the same path, fingertips to forearms to biceps. A flit of your eyes down, and the car leers onto the exit ramp, light changing its course and missing the bulge of his cock entirely. 

The both of you huff for different reasons, you in disappointment, and him in relief. Not that you can hear each other over the music, anyway.

You spend the rest of the ride bopping your head along and picking up your phone to add songs you like to your own playlist. He’s grateful that there aren’t as many street lamps on the route to your place, so you miss the poorly hidden smirk that plays on his lips. 

Pulling into your driveway, he thumbs at his wheel to turn the music down just as that one song comes on. The one you fucked to the first time he did this; the reason he keeps inviting you to do this. He pauses, sighing, and turns it back up again. You tense, thighs crossing as you hear the click of his seatbelt and squeak of the leather as he reaches over to click yours, too.

Kaji’s breath always comes out ragged— grits his teeth and hisses through them even as his chest heaves for more oxygen. He’s got you bouncing on his cock in his backseat, guiding you to some extent, rough grip on your hips because he really can’t find it in himself to be gentle. Not when you move so perfectly you hit every goddamn beat. 

You’re the perfect melody to him— he has half a mind to lean forward and turn the music down in favor of the sound of you. Ass clapping against his thighs, wet squelching from between yours, breathy moans and gasps and keens. He wishes he could isolate every salacious layer of sound— to savor it, ingrain it into his memory to replay over and over.

The beat of the song slows, just before he knows it’ll build up again. He takes the break to wrap an arm around your waist, effectively slowing the motion of your hips. You whine as he forces you to grind your clit against him, and he hums, captivated.

Using his free hand, he twirls his fingers through your hair, wrapping the strands around to get enough hold to pull you forward, the abruptness ripping a gasp from you. Perfect. Twisting his lips up, he tilts his head forward, letting a glob of spit travel past his lips and drip down onto your awaiting tongue as he plants his feet firm on the ground. With all the leverage in the world, he bucks his hips up into you as the beat picks up again, the heavy weight of his thrusts knocking the air from your lungs. 

It gets hard to move when you squeeze around him, ticks him off that you’re slowing down his rhythm. He just wants to give you what you deserve and you’re always holding him back with that fucking grip of yours. At least, he thinks, you’re giving him a chance to readjust his hips, so he can hit that spongey spot inside you until the song closes out, until all that’s left is the sound of your shared panting.

[spookythesillyfella]

hv tracey trying to remedy their word problemz with help from other traceyz ¥_^

★ featuring @jumjum-crafts 'z and @chamom1le-t3a 'z traceyz

[inke-ri]

After giving the Ithaca Saga a few listens, I'm surprised by how much I loved the ending. All along, I kept wondering how they'd tie up Epic with the whole slow arc of Odysseus becoming a monster, would the story "reward" his behavior by giving him his family back?

Spoilers below!

I cant be sure since the animatics aren't out yet, but the feeling I got from the "Just a Man" part in Would You Fall In Love With Me Again is that it really hammers home how Odysseus didn't become a monster by choice. He didn't *mean* to do it, the gods messing with him (and poor decisions from all of his crew, himself included) essentially forced him to do it to survive. I'm not absolving Odysseus of the blame here, I think the fact that he compares his castle being sacked to Troy symbolizes that he paid for all the pain and misery he caused and he didn't get off easy (if the crippling trauma doesnt make it obvious).

But at the end of the day, he was always someone carrying an extreme amount of guilt due to things in and beyond his control, and there always *was* compassion in him, there was always this inherent desire to be a hero bc he wanted to do good, not bc he actually WANTED to be ruthless.

Most importantly, there IS a big distinction between Odysseus and all these monsters to me. And that is that even when Odysseus finally abandons every shred of self restraint and becomes a "monster", down to having his own track titled after him, Odysseus never *revels* in it the way Poseidon or Polyphemus or Zeus did (unless the final animatics prove me wrong, which would feel very OOC to me).

Even before finally snapping and poking a hundred holes in Poseidon, he still *tried* before. Even as he did it, it felt more like he was venting 20 years of misery instead of enjoying it. He just sounds tired when he lets go of the trident. And when he kills the suitors, he's just *angry*. When he chooses himself over Eurylochus, he was broken and miserable. When he chose to leave Calypso, someone who *kept him prisoner* for 7 years, he still chose to do it in as kind a way he still managed.

Compare it to Scylla, who's having a blast comparing herself to him. Compare it to Poseidon, who was so cocky in Ruthlessness. Compare it to Zeus in Thunderbringer, strutting around like the cat who got the mouse.

I think that by the time Odysseus sees Penelope again, especially after seeing how different he and Telemachus are (Telemachus clearly being positioned as a mirror of his younger self), after telling Athena there's no hope left for him, only for those that will come after... He faces Penelope and well and truly believes that he's exactly like the monsters in his journey. He lists his sins like charges in a tribunal, like he's fully expecting her to never take him back, because how could she? He's no longer himself.

And then Penelope asks him about the bed.

With how the song is clearly revolving around love, Penelope's challenge in Epic seems less like she's testing to see if it really is Odysseus like in the poems, and more to see if he's still the man she fell in love with. Would he be willing to let go of love, of their memories, of who he was when they first met under that olive tree? He's different now, right? Surely love doesnt matter to him all that much so long as the "victory" of getting home, just as winning meant all to Zeus and Poseidon, just as relishing in the deaths of the trespassors in his land meant to Polyphemus and Scylla.

And sure, Odysseus doesnt reply the way we'd expect from him at the start of the saga. He doesnt plead with Penelope or falls to his knees and begs like he did with Zeus in the very first song. He's *angry*, he HAS changed. But despite the changes, he hasn't let go of love. He REFUSES to cut through the roots of it and throw the bed away. And so Penelope matches him blow for blow, and forces him to accept that he's still her husband and that she'll love this broken, scarred version of him just the same. Even as he seems to choke out her name, almost begging her to leave him because he doesn't deserve it, her voice overpowers him until he breaks and just. Accepts it.

And then the Just a Man theme I mentioned at the start of this text wall finally kicks in, which to me feels like the story reminiscing on Odysseus' journey and, well, accepting it, just as he does... That while his sins ARE sins (again, not absolving him of any of it!!), he never did them out of hatred or pride or just because he enjoyed it, he did it because he was, well, just a man who loved his family so desperately that he'd do anything to see them again.

He finally lets himself breathe, realizes that it really has been 20 years of his life attempting to shape him into something different, and even though it succeeded at that... for all it did change him it did not change the love that was always at his core. And so he can allow himself to perhaps never be fully free of that guilt and anger, but at least finally, finally rest.

[down2cowtown]

Apollo 18 stimboard!

◼️ ◼️ ◼️

🐋 🛰️ 🦑

◼️ ◼️ ◼️

[lizzybeeee]

I love the Descent DLC for a lot of reasons, but one of the most memorable parts for me was how they recontextualized the dwarven belief that you would 'fall into the sky!' with the reveal of the Titans.

Thousands upon thousands of years resulted in the phrase losing it’s true meaning, recontextualised to instead refer to the surface of Thedas because they lost the knowledge of what it was talking about. Yet this phrase still endured throughout the ages.

You meet plenty of dwarves in Dragon Age who talk about the importance of reclaiming what they lost -> the Aeducan origin story begins with an expedition to an old thaig, Brosca suffers the caste system that venerates the importance of past ancestors actions, we see characters like Branka commit/allow horrific acts in the pursuit of this...

Even Bartrand, who spent the majority of his life on the surface, felt that pull. Varric has a story about breaking a plate that was brought to the surface with them and how, to Bartrand, that plate was the entire city of Orzammar. So many dwarven characters are reaching for something lost to them...

You walk into the titan (though you don't know this at the time) and you're met with an entire world in there. There's light, fauna, flora, architecture, clouds -> you are in the clouds -> you are in the sky!

The dwarves had an entirely different way of life! How does this all work? Who knows! What is in the booty of a Titan???

And the entire time they've had one small link to the far distant past through the belief that they would ‘fall into the sky’! Which is deeply ironic and tragic in that something so tied to their way of life, under the surface, became synonymous with the surface.

I still remember how excited/awed I was when I realized what that phrase was referring to! You heard it all the time in DAO – even Varric joked about how Bartrand believed it in DA2.

A phrase that was a joke to those on the surface was revealed to be a flicker of memory of what once was. Amazing!

Maybe it was once a small, chiding reminder for dwarven children when walking around in a titan. Maybe it was a joke for the guards/defenders of the titan like the Sha-Brytol? Maybe a dwarf wandered down so far below that they saw all this - making their way back to Orzammar with their account becoming legend. Who knows! But I love it so much <3

[discardead]

〘　···　Chocolate-themed NPUT list 　···　〙

Names

Chocemi. Chocelat. Carmelite. Dulcocoa. Charlie. Coralate. Chocolie. Cholyth. Chocelisse. Clairenne. Chocolik. Chocolite. Drizzle. Drizzlyne. Caramelie. Cocoa. Kocoa. Cocreme. Syrupine. Syrucho. Esme. Mocha. Milo. Reese.

Pronouns

cho/choco. swe/sweet. su/sugar. co/coco. sy/syr/syrup. mi/milo. mo/mocha. co/cookie. chi/chip. cwo/cwocoa. swu/swugar. sy/syr. ca/can/candy. ce/cer. sie/sier.

Usernames

choccymwilk. chocolike. chocobun. chocopup. chocoheart. chocolatier. syrupchocos. choccolte. caramlyzed. cocoaryne. hotchocy. chocosweethrt. chocchips. sugarynes. sugarychoco. choccdrizzle.

Titles

The One in Chocolate. Prn* with Chocolatey goodness. The Chocolate-crazed One. The Chocolatier. The Chocolate Artisan. The Chocolate Maker. Prn* who makes Choco(late).

[morelikesin]

It was a confection glazed in thick, sweet frosting - pearly white and tasting of a very rich vanilla - and presumably baked to achieve the golden crust of the bread harboring it; said bread was soft, and its flavor slightly yeasty but easily disregarded with sugar in its place. If you, metaphorically, squinted, it was almost like a cinnamon roll without the cinnamon aspect.

...dipping it into some of its complementary sauce before shoving the bite into his mouth. It was salty and savory and held a zing of citrus from its accompaniment - the taste not too unlike a largemouth bass, but the flesh of a bluefin tuna.

The roasted potatoes were crispy outside and fluffy inside, and even in their familiar plainness was it a comfort. So far away from home, for most of them, and yet it seemed many things were the same.

Allegedly, this Ancestor's Rest, as it was called, was useful as a sleep aid - within the ingredients were medicinal properties in helping one fall and stay asleep, and even wake up feeling better refreshed. That remained to be seen, but they, after everything they could consider, were open to the possibility. 

The pillowy baked good had a spongy chew; the bread tasting akin to a wheat brioche with less sweetness. The comberry jam sandwiched within was sweet and tart simultaneously, taste helped by the snowberries and the consistency by the marshmerrow paste, with the titular comberries almost identical to the flavor profile of a combination of a tart, bitter lingonberry and sweet, citrus-like red currants.

…chunked onion and halved prunes, whole celery and garlic bulbs - peels remaining for flavor until it was time to add the meat - chopped carrots and mushrooms, thyme and parsley and bay leaves, salt and peppercorns.

The overnight stewing, or jugging, as called historically by the people of Tamriel, proved itself in utmost succulence with every bite. The Bruma rabbit meat was tender and juicy, lean muscle and browned skin soaked in the rabbit blood and vegetable stock it'd been submerged in.

-

My take on some Tamriel foods, featuring Sweet Rolls, Seared Slaughterfish and roasted potatoes from Skyrim, Ancestor's Rest from Morrowind, and Jugged Rabbit from Cyrodiil 🍩🥩🍞🥘

[cyanbeetle]

The asshole and the good one

[picturebookshelf]

Pippi Goes On Board

(Original Edition: 1946 -- This Edition: 1988) Story: Astrid Lindgren -- Translation: Florence Lamborn -- Art: Louis S. Glanzman

[arsene-fixates]

omg… among the other scores i got for band i got girl from ipanema …!!!! jumping around!!!!

[motoroil-recs]

[X / X / X] [X / 🏎️ / X] [X / X / X]

A stimboard for Mr. Sandman [Fall Out Boy's America's Suitehearts] with imagery of dark carnivals and dreams.

[comicbookddr]

SERICA WEEK DAY 5: PROM

Every year is a new prom, and every year these two will go together, because they're best friends forever.