#truly a Sisyphean task

[layne-thepencilthing]

egajbe;. rebadl. rebasd. rebagle. fuck. rebgle. febagle. ebag. elcle. rebag. rebfel. rejfbal.

[gauntlings]

hey how much do you think rebecca actually relates to A, especially if you're romancing them. do you think rebecca empathizes because looking at A is like looking in a mirror. rebecca tells the detective how much they remind her of rook, and her greatest fear is losing her child like she lost her husband. in that scenario, wouldnt that make A the most like rebecca?

the way rebecca can express love verbally, in sentiment (sometimes), but how deeply she struggles to show it. do you think rebecca sees her child in pain -- at the hands of someone who always keeps the detective at arms length, just like she did.

do you think some part of her wants to hate A for it, but never could. because maybe it is selfish, maybe it is hypocritical. because she cannot hope to be forgiven if she cannot forgive in kind. even if it means forgiving the one who is actively hurting her child the most. having to justify (as she always justifies) that it, horrifyingly, comes from a place of love.

[moodycarcass]

Truly astonishing how pea brained mental illness makes you to the point that its taken 20yrs for me to realize I can just brush my teeth in the shower instead of it being a completely separate step I forget or put off 80% of the time

[gloriouslyscentedwizard]

Haha I mean I already knew this - and I've tested the paint it's 100% lead lol. I mean it's pretty obvious when you look at it but

Mmm yes ✨️ Milton took the soffit, now the lead can

Breathe

[sunnnfish]

Long time no Comic update so here: i recently bought clip studio paint because 1) it was on sale and ive been thinking about it for a while and 2) i was using photoshop for The Comic but photoshop makes me want to rip all my limbs off the more i use it + it costs 20 dollars a month and thats stupid. Goodbye photoshop forever <3 anyways yeah I hadn’t worked on it for a minute due to aforementioned photoshop making my brain explode BUT im feeling slightly more motivated now. Still very busy and low energy due to Having A Job but she (comic) is still on my mind…

[inverse-problem]

I think I’ve said this before but holy hell the ultrakill soundtrack is so good for running. normally when I run I’m a miserable human-shaped noodleblob, but with the soundtrack I can pretend I’m a perfect killing machine that thirsts for blood and destroys everything in its path and anyway that’s been really helping me get my cardio lately

[batsecretary]

#I’m not against maximalism I just hate dusting and moving

what people don't tell you about maximalism is the Dust

[downfallofi]

Not enough that today's work loading the King County job was a horrible shitshow, but when I got home, of course we all had to get belittled and berated around the dinner table by a fucking delusional narcissist. Like. Of course.

After dinner, Noah and I went out to do one of many of the whiteboard tasks and I couldnt keep the bitterness from my voice (that's creeping more and more in all the time now) that of course she's gonna bitch at us about it, but is she actually going to do any of these tasks on the whiteboard herself? No.

God.

I need to move out.

I actually am coming to the place where I don't... care if I wind up homeless and sleeping in a park again.

[at-wicks-end]

in another life (you still would've turned my head) ; jw

vampire!john wick x reader fluff !! (lowkey a reincarnation au) ~2.5k words

notes: this fic is written for @treedaddymcpuffpuff for the keanuverse secret santa event hosted by @97keanu <333 i hope you like this!!! this is probably the longest thing i've written on this blog 😵‍💫 happy holidays🩷

John cares little for the snow. It’s not that he found it cumbersome or annoying; it’s just that when one has lived for as long as he has, shoveling the snow from the driveway becomes a little too tedious, even for one well-versed in tedious matters. Such was the nature of immortality—given enough time, even the most unique, spectacular experience becomes boring after a century. 

This task becomes herculean (or Sisyphean, John corrects himself) when said driveway was practically a third of the length of his entire estate, which was also in the middle of the woods. His eye twitches at the thought of the snow that would inevitably impede the driving of his beloved Mustang to the nearest town. With a heavy sigh, John casts one longing look at his car, as spotless and as pristine as the day he got it decades ago. He’ll wait for the winter to pass before he brings out his car for a drive. For now, he thinks reluctantly, he’ll walk. He has more than enough time anyway.

It doesn’t take long for him to get ready. All he does is put on his long coat and wrap a scarf around his neck before heading out. He has no need for it, but it’s easier to pretend to need it than to deal with the constant concerned looks from the townspeople as he walks around. It also helped him blend in with the rest of the people walking around, doing some last-minute gift shopping for loved ones at those ridiculously overpriced boutiques. John blows out the candles in the hallways as he walks to the foyer, running a mental checklist of the things he had to put out or turn off before leaving.

Dog—yes, Dog. Comments about his creativity are not welcome—approaches him with a wagging tail, the soft clicks of his claws on the hardwood floors reminding John that he had to trim them again soon. 

“Hello,” John says warmly, squatting down to pet Dog. “You can’t come with me tonight. I’ll be walking, and it’s too cold.”

Dog woofs once, as if to complain.  John chuckles to himself, ruffling his soft fur before straightening himself. “You’ll be fine. I’ve already fed you dinner, haven’t I? I’ll be back later.”

After one last brief round through the manor, John mildly regrets killing the last butler, if only so he had someone else to do the tedious tasks instead. But then again, the last butler turned out to be some vampire hunter wannabe who slipped silver oxide in his tea one night. That gave him quite the sore throat, John thinks bitterly, locking the doors behind him. The poor man was stupid enough to think that a little silver oxide would be able to take him down completely, and didn’t even bother to bring a weapon. Truthfully, it was a bit insulting.

John trudges through the snow, out of his estate and into the woods. It would take him half an hour to get to town, and by then it’ll be almost ten in the evening. The town and its warm lights strung through trees and lampposts will be winding down by then, shop lights shutting off one by one. All the better for him; the fewer humans around him, the safer it was. At almost three centuries of existence, John was already well-versed in resisting temptation, but it didn’t mean he was fond of placing himself in situations where he could potentially snap. 

Behind him, his manor fades into the darkness, looking abandoned and more dilapidated than it truly is. For a moment, John squints at one of the towers. Hm. he’ll have to take a look at the top window sometime soon; it looked to be on the verge of falling apart.

He walks through the forest in silence, with no other sound to accompany him other than the sound of crunching snow beneath his boots and the occasional birdsong. John allows his thoughts to wander, his mind flitting from events that had happened over a decade ago and wondering what he would do a week from now. The year was coming to an end, and Winston no doubt is itching to drag him to the Continental for the Winter Ball.

Yeah, right. John snorts. Invite a bunch of vampires to one place. Never ends well.

The previous year, the D’Antonio siblings caused quite a scene by bringing untrained, unmarked humans into the venue. The younger vamps could barely resist tearing the poor things apart. At the very least, it had provided enough entertainment for the rest of the evening, according to Koji, an old friend of his.

He should probably give him a call this Christmas if only to check in, John muses. And send over a gift for Akira. What does one give to a young vampling these days anyway?

He’s snapped from his reverie at the sound of grumbling. He freezes, straining his ears to understand what the voice is saying.

“...this is so stupid. Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea? God. I’m gonna get eaten by wolves…”

There are no wolves in the area, John can attest to that, but this human seemed lost. And most certainly not a local, if they were out in the woods at night. He purses his lips, turning his head from the direction of the voice to the general direction of the town. He should be close by now, and the blood dealer was likely there already. John could just leave the unknown voice there to fend for themselves and potentially freeze in the dark. 

But what the hell, he thinks. It’s Christmas. This can be his good deed of the year.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he takes a sharp turn to the right and makes his way to the voice. His eyesight meant that the dark of night wasn’t truly dark to him, but he supposes that to a human, this was close to pitch black. It doesn’t take long for him to spot a figure huddled by the root of a tree in the dark, angrily poking at what looked to be their phone. Humans and their smartphones, John sighs internally.

“Hello,” he says slowly, not wanting to scare them. “Are you lost?”

The human flinches, looking up at him with wide eyes. Moonlight shines on their face just so, and John swears his undead heart would be pounding if it still could.

Oh, he thinks, breathless. It’s you.

You really shouldn’t have come here, you think mournfully. Your roommate brought you along with her for the holidays, feeling bad that you were going to be left in the apartment by yourself. It seemed like a good idea at the time, until you got to her hometown and she promptly dropped you off at the local inn and said goodbye for the week. After asking around for fun activities to do (that had nothing to do with the holidays, thank you very much), one of the younger locals suggested geocaching, now that quite a handful of people were developing an interest in it too. He told you to download an app that should explain things better, and you spent the better part of the afternoon looking things up.

This is supposed to be your third spot to check out, but the signal got worse somewhere along the way, and now your phone is dead too. Just your fucking luck. Somewhere, someone must be actively praying for your downfall because what do you mean you’re now stuck in the middle of the woods at night? You groan, angrily poking at the black screen of your phone when a voice calls out to you. 

“Hello. Are you lost?”

It’s a true testament to your strength, your bravery, your iron will, that you did not shit yourself at the sound of the voice. You look up at the tall stranger with wide eyes, noting that holy shit this man is gorgeous and you probably look like you’ve been crawling through all sorts of nooks and crannies all afternoon. Which you have been. So. 

“Hi,” you squeak. Okay. He doesn’t seem like an ax murderer, judging by his nice clothing…? Every bit of information you learned in those true crime podcasts you listen to has flown out of your brain, leaving you looking up at the stranger with your mouth parted.

The tall, dark, and handsome stranger looks at you for a moment before offering you a hand. “The town is that way,” he gestures somewhere to the left. “I’m… John.”

You mumble your name, taking his hand in a daze. Of course, you would meet an absolute Adonis on the worst day of your life (an exaggeration). You try not to swoon at his firm grip, or how he easily pulls you upright without so much as a sharp exhale. Whew. This is a man, you think dreamily, nothing like those slimy finance bros back in the city. Perhaps it’s your turn for a Hallmark movie romance. You, the city slicker with a hatred for the holidays, and this man, the local who’ll teach you the true meaning of Christmas. 

He repeats your name quietly, nodding. “I’m headed to town. We can walk together, if you want.” 

“I’d like that,” you respond, feeling breathless all of a sudden. Get ahold of yourself, you think desperately. You can’t fold for the first hot man that you see in the woods!

Your dreams of a budding romance, are crushed, however, when no further words are exchanged. Stealing glances at John’s (very handsome) side profile does nothing for your flushed cheeks, and his shy smile whenever he catches you staring makes you melt internally. The distant lights of the town coming into view make your heart sink. 

He appears to take pity for your plight and breaks the silence first. “Are you only visiting here?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly. Too quickly. You swallow thickly, trying to play off your embarrassment. “I mean, yeah, My roommate just brought me along, so…”

“I see.” He nods. “How are you liking this place so far?”

“It’s like a Christmas village,” you say with disdain. The corners of John’s lips quirk up.

“I’m hearing some distaste in your tone.” He notes, amusement in his voice.

You scrunch your nose. “I don’t like Christmas.”

“Oh?”

“I just don’t like it,” you shrug. “You?”

John pauses, thinking for a moment. “I don’t mind it. I don’t think too much of it.”

“Pretty hard to do when it’s so… in your face,” you quip. 

“I’m good at focusing on what truly matters,” he says coolly, his gaze suddenly serious. Your cheeks feel hot again. 

“Oh. That’s nice.” You mumble, looking away, feeling strangely flustered. Are all handsome men just way too intense for their own good? “Are you a, uh, local?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, tilting his head towards you with a small smirk. “A local of the Christmas village.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” You laugh, caught off guard by his sudden teasing. “It’s just not for me, I’m sorry!”

He laughs with you, his deep voice almost melting into the cold winter breeze. Something inside you feels warm at the sight of his smile, and it’s not just because you think this man is hot. He doesn’t feel like a stranger, you think curiously. He feels strangely familiar, as if you’ve known the sound of his laughter for years. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s begging you to take his hand, to savor the warmth of his skin against yours and⁠—

“We’re almost there,” he states, looking straight ahead.

Oh. Right.

“Thanks,” you say softly, looking at him. “For helping me back there.”

John only shrugs, his features warmed by the light from the lamppost just straight ahead. “I have a knack for helping strays.” He smiles as if joking. “And I think you’ll find that you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “‘Cause I met you, is that it?”

He gives you that smile again, as if he knows something you don’t. As if you should know what he’s talking about too. It should unnerve you, but it doesn’t. “Something like that.” 

The two of you eventually stop walking just in front of the stall selling mulled wine. “Well, this is me,” you say reluctantly. As charmed as you are by this man, you’ve retained enough of your common sense to not reveal just where exactly you’re staying for now. (If he wants to come up to your room for  a late night something, well… maybe you’re not totally against the idea.) “I’m gonna go walk around before I turn in for the night. You?”

“I’m meeting an acquaintance,” he replies, putting his hands in his pockets. Strange. He isn’t wearing gloves. 

“Good night, John.” You smile, reluctant to leave his side for some godforsaken reason. “I’ll see you around?”

“You will see me around the Christmas village, yes,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Good night, solnishko.”

Little sun. 

How do you know that?

You wave goodbye, dazed, watching as he disappears into the crowd. Your chest aches at the sight of him leaving, but you ignore it, deciding it’s time to turn in for the night after all. It’s been a long day of gallivanting, and getting lost in the woods did no favors for your poor feet. Sighing softly, you imagine the relief of finally taking off these godforsaken boots and warming up by the fire. You’re gonna sleep so good tonight.

Giving one last longing look in the direction John went, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever see him again. It’s just because he’s hot, you tell yourself. Yes, that’s just it. Nothing to do with how his voice makes your stomach do somersaults. 

(You will see him again, one way or another. Like John said, you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time, even when you don’t remember him. John only allowed the night to slip from his grasp knowing that the universe will inevitably bring you back to him, as it has many times before.)

(As it will continue to do so, for as long as your soul remembers him even when your mind does not. For now, John is determined to make you fall in love with him all over again until you have to leave.) 

John watches you walk to the local inn from afar, hidden in the shadows. So you hate Christmas this time, he chuckles to himself. That’s alright. So long as you still like him, he can make it work.

He’ll make it work.

post-fic yap: there we go!! i have never actually experienced snow in my life so i'm sorry if it's not super accurate :')) i really wanted to add some more stuff but my health has been in the dumps so i just did my best🥲 again, happy holidays! i hope i did your prompt justice🥹

[smandraws]

the bigger he gets, the more groceries he needs to carry up the stairs, and the hungrier he gets doing so. truly a Sisyphean task this was on patreon a while ago!

[fucking-relax]

oh, Sisyphus! i got you

hey did you know??? that if you stop stretching and maintaining mobility in your body then it goes away?? things get tight and you can't move the way that you used to??? and when you decide to try getting a stretch routine going that the first week fucking sucks because you keep going 'damn i used to be able to do this no problem' and then you have to switch gears and be kind to yourself and just focus on getting better from here instead of berating yourself for dropping the good habits in the first place??? and your body never stops aging so you gotta keep taking care of it and sometimes you gotta take care of it extra in certain areas because of things that happened when you were younger and it's boring and sometimes hurts but it's so necessary???

i am yelling this at myself right now i am going through An Experience (trying to get into a routine of body maintenance again for my physical and mental health)

[seventeenpins]

a little domesticity

pairing: Tess x F!Reader word count: 2.3k summary: You discover it's Tess's birthday. You decide you want to make it special. Tess fingers you while you cook her dinner. Same universe as Drive Me Home if you like?? content/warnings: basically just porn, no implied age gap, this is so domestic!!!!, established but new-ish relationship, lil bit of daddy Tess, fingering, very mild degradation, no outbreak or pre-outbreak AU, pet names (baby, honey), Tess works at a high-powered but undefined job a/n: For @ozarkthedog 🩷 Congrats on your 11k, and happy birthday Ozzie!! You've given us so much with your celebration, but you should be the one getting gifts! I know this is pretty extraordinarily late (sorry, love) but I hope you like it 😚

You are determined not to have to make two trips. Tess's apartment is up five flights, the elevator is on the fritz, and your legs already ache from the gym yesterday. You want to do anything you can to not have to go back and forth.

Three grocery bags hang off your left hand and two on your right, slowly cutting off any remaining circulation. A bottle of wine and a gallon of milk are tucked into your elbows as you heave yourself up the steps. Grocery shopping is a truly Sisyphean task, and the slog up to the apartment only confirms this.

By the time you turn the corner past the fourth landing, you're cursing yourself. It's so much. You know your arms will be aching, but of course you're stubborn enough to overdo it.

Finally, you make it to the fifth floor landing, and Tess's door is the third on the right. It's inelegant, trying to keep the bags steady while shoving your hand into your pocket to dig around for your keys. Your fingers are verging on numbness, and right as you move the key to the lock, you fumble and drop it.

That's the moment you hear the phone ring inside.

It sends you into a rush, and in your haste, you drop half the bags and still don't manage to open the door before the ringing stops.

Instead, you swing the door open right as the beep of the answering machine sounds, a bunch of bananas and a bag of English muffins fallen at your feet.

A man's voice chimes out, tinny and a little distorted.

"Tess! It's Joel. Happy birthday! We're gettin' old, huh? Let's get dinner soon, on me. Tommy's wishing you well, and Sarah, too. I'll catch you later."

Then you hear the click of a receiver, and the machine stops.

You frown. Leave the groceries where they're sat and rewind the tape a few seconds. Hit play.

"'S Joel. Happy birthday! We're gettin' old, huh? Let's get dinner soon, on me. Tommy's wishing you--"

You click it off.

He definitely said Tess. And 'happy birthday'.

So why the fuck didn't Tess tell you it was her birthday?

You know it's not really a big deal. Maybe she's just not a birthday person. It wouldn't really surprise you; there's a nonchalance that she exudes that sometimes throws you off .

If you're honest, though, you love birthdays. The gift-giving. Getting to make a fuss over your loved ones. And, you reason, if the Millers can wish her well, then it's probably not a sore spot for her.

More than anything, you've been wanting an excuse to celebrate her. Maybe this can be it?

As you prop the door open and begin to drag the grocery bags in, as you scrubbing the produce and putting everything away, you allow a plan to form.

It's been a long day but a good day. Work was a series of tasks that required some creative problem solving, and Tess felt like a fucking magician the way she'd been kicking ass and putting out fires.

Trekking up the innumerable steps, she felt suddenly lighter when she remembered that you had offered to make dinner.

From the moment she turns the key in the lock, she immediately starts salivating.

"Babe?" she calls, shucking off her shoes and shrugging off her jacket.

"In here-" you call back.

A moment later, soft footfalls are padding into the kitchen, and she's slipping her arms around you. She rests her chin on your shoulder and surveys the scene in front of you both.

"Shit, hon, this smells amazing."

You do a happy wiggle against her and start pointing out everything in turn. "So, we've got garlic tossed broccolini. Parsnip ravioli in that one, only has a minute or so left. I'm just starting the sauce now, so it'll be a few minutes before everything's ready, but you've made it in perfect time."

"Ugh," Tess groans, appreciative, "You spoil me. What's the occasion?"

"OH, don't let me drain the pasta water without saving some."

"I got you," she promises, sliding past you to grab two beers from the fridge. She notices when your eyes linger on her hands as she pops the bottle caps. "Careful, don't burn-- whatever you've got on the flame there."

With a shake of your head, you roll your eyes. "But seriously, is that a real question, or are you testing me?"

She frowns. Hands you a bottle and takes a swig of her own, sliding back behind you. She presses against you and wraps her arms around your waist.

"What are you talking about?"

You grind your ass back a little more and she puts one hand on your hip, but now she's smiling at you, mildly puzzled.

"Do you know what the date is today?"

"Oh shit, did I forget something important?" she detaches. "Did I forget our anniversary?"

"You tell me." You nod your head towards the calendar hanging on the fridge. "I'll help you out, it's a Tuesday today. And we've only been together six months. And you brought me flowers for that, like, a week ago."

She stares at the calendar for a moment and then looks at you. Looks back and forth.

"I--"

She's frozen in an incredulous frown.

"Happy birthday, honey," you tell her.

"I can't believe I fucking forgot. And how did you know?" she laughs.

"Hah," you laugh, "Answering machine went off when I got in. Your friend, Joel, he was calling to wish you well."

She snorts. "Fuckin' Miller saves the day?" Then she looks you up and down. "And you, baby, you've definitely saved the day." She looks over the spread again and notices the counter covered in flour, the kitchenaid with a roller attachment, a piping bag nearly fully emptied, and various pastry cutters. "Shit, did you make all this yourself?"

"The ravioli? Sure did. Just wanted an excuse to spoil you."

Tess plants a kiss on your lips and you moan into her mouth. When you pull apart, you're panting.

"Now," you tell her, suddenly serious, "I prioritized dinner and didn't have a chance to get you a present."

"Oh, hon, you don't have to-"

You cut her off, waggling your eyebrows. "But you do still have someone to unwrap."

"Don't have to tempt me, honey," she grins.

"Just let me finish up with dinner-"

She has a different idea. "I bet you can finish up while I open my present."

You snort. "Be patient."

"I don't have to be patient--it's my birthday."

"Tess, I-"

She ignores you, pressing gentle kisses down the side of your throat.

She know's it's a guaranteed horny button for you, and she exploits that weakness mercilessly. You have to fight not to melt. Even so, you let your eyes flutter closed, bathing in the sensation and not wanting anything to stop or change. She lets you relax into it for a moment, before bumping her hip against you, nudging you forward.

"Go on, baby. Better keep cooking. I'm hungry."

You let out a deep breath and snap yourself back. You spark the cooktop and place down the sauté pan. (You prefer cooking at Tess's apartment. Hers has a gas range. Yours has electric.)

After checking the temperature, you place a stick of butter in the pan. Tess runs her hands up and down your sides at a leisurely pace. Just her touch is enough to make you weak kneed again.

She passes you a slotted wooden spatula and you start to push the stick of butter around, watching it sizzle and melt as Tess makes you melt. You hear the clink of her own belt before you feel her undoing the button of your jeans.

Your pasta timer dings and the moment is broken. You grab the pan and are about to drain it in the colander you have set up in the sink, but before you can tip it out, Tess stops you.

"Hold up, hon, save that pasta water."

"Shit! Yep, nearly forgot it."

You set a liquid measuring jug beneath the colander and let the pasta drain, before taking the pasta water and turning back to the melting butter.

Tess's hands are back on you, pulling down your zipper now. She shimmies your jeans past your hips, kneading your ass with one hand as she trails the other from your belly button lower and lower and lower-

You start to lose focus on dinner and can only pay attention to her.

Tess slips her hand down your front and gasps when she gets to your bare cunt, hot and wanting. You're wearing no underwear, clothed only in the curls between your thighs.

"Naughty girl," she praises, and you swoon as she starts stroking her fingertips along your cunt, collecting your wetness and smearing it on your clit before pressing harsh circles into you that make you shudder and squirm deliciously.

"Don't let the butter burn," Tess chides, and you blink your eyes open, reaching for the utensil and moving the last of the unmelted butter around the pan, watching it start to foam at the edges.

"What else do you need, hon?" she asks, "Got all your ingredients?

You glance around. The sage is there. The pasta water. Garlic. Pepper.

"Uh-huh."

"Good," Tess says, "'Cause I'm gonna need you to stay put and focus."

A surge of heat pulses through you and you feel Tess's breath on your neck, a delicious sigh.

You add sage leaves to the browning butter, savouring the sudden aroma as the sage begins to heat, releasing its fragrance.

Tess resumes her work, slipping your jeans down to your ankles and guiding you to step out, all the while you stir the pan.

As the sage sizzles in the butter, she presses a finger against your folds, finding your opening, and eliciting a gasp from you as she enters you with two long fingers.

Finding a rhythm, she starts pumping the digits, pulling whines and moans from you, pausing only to let you smash the peeled garlic with the palm of your hand against the flat of a chef's knife and mince it a little more. You toss it into the pan and, once the knife is out of your hand, she resumes.

Two fingers become three, and as you splash the pasta water in with the butter and sage and yelp as she picks up the pace.

"Love those lovely little whines you make for me. All those sweet noises, that's all for me, huh?"

"For you," you agree, another whine escaping.

"Messy fuckin' hole, taking my fingers so good. Such a good girl, baby," she praises, and you don't realise she's not referring to you until she says, "Look at her, gettin' all puffy and wrecked."

You let out another sound, this one closer to a growl. You can feel yourself beginning to drip down her hand as she fucks her digits into you, pressing into you so nicely, working you open, making your knees quake.

"Sweet little pussy opening right up for me. Think she can take another?

"Fuck, daddy, please-"

Trying to keep stirring while she works on you is a near impossibility. With a focus that can't be anything less than witchcraft, she smacks your cheek while you're moaning, eyes closed and keening.

"Don't let it burn," she scolds, and your eyes snap back open.

The sauce has started to thicken, and you turn down the flame so you can take a moment to grind yourself deeper onto Tess's hand.

"Wanna put on the strap?" you ask. "Want me to put on the strap?"

"I'd take either," she admits with a laugh, "But the dishwasher's running."

"Fuck."

"Did you just put the cycle on?"

"Yep. Are our dicks in the dishwasher?"

"Our dicks are in the dishwasher."

You let out a whine. She just maintains her pace and rubbing a fingertip in blinding, tight circles around your clit.

"Poor baby," she teases, "I barely have to play with you and your cute lil hole soaks me like a fuckin' whore. You're so fucking easy."

"Hnnnggg-"

"My pretty little slut. Just gotta give me one, baby, just one and I'll let you finish dinner."

Another whine.

"C'mon, honey, I feel you gettin' close. Clenchin' on daddy's fingers. Fuck, cum for me baby, let me feel you-"

She reaches around you and turns off the flame, the fingers of her other hand pumping faster and rougher. You're bent forward, gripping the counter for support, as you feel yourself start to tip over.

"Fuuuuckkk-" you cum with a cry, Tess's fingers working you through it as her other hand wraps around your waist, steadying you. You hear the splash of your release against the laminate floor as she keeps going, pumping her fingers fast and deep, hitting just the right spot, dragging your orgasm out longer than you knew yourself capable of.

It takes a couple of minutes, coming back down. You feel your slick cooling on your thighs and turn around to see Tess leaning against the hallway behind you, grinning wickedly as she licks her fingers one by one.

"You're gonna be the death of me," you tell her, and she slides back behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Not allowed to die. It's my birthday."

"Hmmph," you roll your eyes and begin to plate up.

The groan Tess lets out as she takes her first bite is more than worth it.

"Fucking fuck, honey, I mean- holy shit this is so good."

You grin. "Glad you like it."

"I know what I'm having for dessert," Tess smirks, waggling her eyebrows.

"Yeah," you agree, "I made you a tart."

"You're my tart."

You roll your eyes again. "I am, but I made one special for you. Dessert first, then you can eat me as much as you like."

Tess nods solemnly before breaking into another grin. "Thank you honey."

"Happy birthday, baby."

[cinderella-ish]

Let's Talk About Kyoru!

I shared a little while ago (in my first-ever analysis post!) that I don't really have a lot in common with Tohru or Kyo, and I didn't really "get" them or their relationship right away. Today, someone asked on Reddit "What are your personal thoughts on Kyou x Tohru?" and I wrote out a long comment explaining how I grew to love them. So, here's an expanded and edited version of that comment, edited for Tumblr!

I loved both Tohru and Kyo as characters from the start. How could I not? Kyo is an endlessly meme-able, over-the-top tsundere cat-boy with a heart of gold, and Tohru is a lovable, overly-giving people-pleaser who's also a total space cadet prone to some very funny mishaps (that are maybe a little less funny once you understand her character).

What I didn't see at first was how their romantic relationship was an essential part of both Tohru's and Kyo's character development. Their arcs couldn't really have ended any other way, with how Takaya-sensei set them up.

See, Tohru begins the series in denial about the reality of her mother's death and unable to ask for or accept help, even from those closest to her, and even when people offer their help or support up front. She risks her own health and even her life to avoid burdening others, likewise risking herself to protect her memory of her mother (represented by the framed photo).

And Kyo begins the series convinced defeating Yuki will erase his past "sins," or alleviate his guilt from both Kyoko's and his mother's deaths. It's a Sisyphean task and he knows it, but he keeps at it because it's better than the alternative (actually dealing with his trauma) and possibly because he thinks he deserves to suffer defeat after defeat. He's in an extremely fragile place, having just returned from his trip to the mountains, and he truly believes he only hurts the people he loves.

I also think there's some small part of Kyo that's fighting to keep going, even from the start of the series. It's a twisted way to go about living, but he is still trying to live. He has the possibility of a life outside the Cat's House, and he's working his ass off to try and achieve it, even if it's most likely impossible. To me, that's not a character who's given up or accepted his fate.

Similarly, I think there's a small part of Tohru that knows she'll eventually need to accept that her mother is dead and make the decisions that are best for herself. It's harder to see this inner desire in Tohru than in Kyo, but I think it becomes clear when she chooses to stay with the Sohmas rather than return to her grandfather's house. She believed, at that point, that her grandfather was the only person left who knew and loved her mother, yet she knew she would be happier continuing to live with Kyo, Yuki, and Shigure. With the encouragement of her grandfather (and with Kyo and Yuki's heroic rescue mission), she moves forward on the path that will make her happiest.

It took me really digging deep and understanding each of their individual arcs to love them as a couple as much as I do now.

On first pass, it was obvious to me how much Tohru meant to Kyo, and the ways she directly countered his extremely low self-esteem and overwhelming guilt. However, I didn't really understand what Tohru liked about Kyo in a romantic sense.

I think this was probably due to my own anxiousness around men who yell, which strongly put me off of Kyo as a romantic lead. I also didn't like how he promised to protect Tohru again at the end, but that was again due to my own hangups. I have a strong dislike of being "protected" by my romantic partners (it feels patronizing and usually is done without asking or considering my own feelings about being protected). But I'll come back to that.

We know from the start that Tohru tends to reject attempts to care for her, or simply makes sure no one will be in a position to offer that care to her. She doesn't ask to stay with either of her best friends and she doesn't remain with her family during the renovations.

And Kyo is the only person who not only recognizes when Tohru's diminishing her own needs, but he's also the only person who consistently makes sure she has the support she needs, even if she initially refuses it. He tells her it's okay to get angry, asks her to vent her frustrations to him, and reminds her it's okay to be selfish.

I think with anyone else, she would have burned herself out and cut off most of her uncomfortable emotions. Kyo takes care of Tohru, and that's what she needs, because Tohru Honda has very different needs than I do (and that's okay!).

Also, Kyo doesn't yell nearly as much after the first season, but something I realized while writing my series on Kyo and Momiji's relationship is that most of Kyo's yelling is him trying to protect her and the others he cares for (like Momiji). He yelled because he was terrified of hurting her again, or of letting her get hurt through inaction. He'd yell at her when she did something that could've gotten her hurt, or he'd yell at others when they did something that could hurt her. That poor boy was carrying so much guilt over Kyoko's death, he made it his entire personality to try and protect Tohru, including from himself.

At Kyoko's grave, when he promised to protect Tohru for life, I initially read that as a step backwards for him. Wasn't that just a recipe for more guilt? After all, he couldn't possibly protect her from everything. But after some reflection, I think that was him finally internalizing the lesson from that last fight with Yuki: he was protecting her all along by making her smile and being there for her. That's Kyo recognizing that his presence is good for Tohru, and it's a huge shift in how he sees himself and his own self-worth.

So that's really why Kyo and Tohru are so perfect together. Kyo needed someone to help him see his own worth, and Tohru did that simply by needing him. Meanwhile, Tohru needed to prioritize her own needs and happiness, and she did that by admitting how much she needed Kyo. It's a loop that feeds back into itself. The more they care for each other, the more they overcome their initial mistaken beliefs about themselves.

I once shared in response to an ask that I believe Tohru needed Kyo even more than he needed her. Thinking of how badly she was suffering during the hospital arc, when she thought he'd rejected her, and how much she repressed her heartbreak during that time, I think it would've destroyed her if he hadn't decided to try and move forward with her. It would've taken a long, long time before she would've been able to open up to anyone like that again, and she may not have been able to ever again, given how hard it was for her to admit her feelings for Kyo in the first place.

So, I love them. Took me a while, but I'm fully aboard the Kyoru train now.

[prsk-translyrics]

Jackpot Sad Girl translyrics BUT it's a "student A diss track" that i did for a reddit post

please excuse inaccuracies and errors this was done very quickly

Living a life just like every other Words with no meaning, just another sucker Look here, look here, the days keep passing by Yet still, yet still, you show your cursed eye (note: curs-ed)

Talent is wasted on fools and jesters, Give yourself up, I tell you, you're an easy mark Again, again, the halfwit spills his lies That makes disgust from innocent surprise (see: ena's card)

A normal life evades the fortunate Your adversity's so sickly sweet. (note: schadenfreude (guchiry) reference! the word means taking pleasure in the misfortune of others)

That makes you the Clown, a coward, liar and a breaker of your no-good word. (yeah this is taken from a shakespeare quote) It's lost to you, good quality, I pray your whispers go unheard. To disgrace a life of such value and laugh it off makes you the villain here, can you not see? You're a dead end with a closed-off mind. Your future crumbles with each passing day.

Logic and boredom are what start conflict Life is a joke and you don't try to change it Hello, hello, my wish is your command The hunted seek to punish all the damned

Your mind crumbles inside your thick skull Normalcy is truly just so tedious and dull! Look deep, look deep, look deep inside of me The hate inside is all that you will see

Reflected in the horror of those eyes is the smile of a monster, and

A clown, a coward, liar and one of the few I can't forgive. If the beats of our hearts sync, then surely, only one will live. To disgrace a life of such value and laugh it off makes you the villain here, can you not see? The knife I hide may be denied but I seek truth and the future lies ahead.

hii fuu mii yoo ii muu naa yaa

hii fuu mii yoo ii muu naa yaa (note: count your days student a)

Hey, student, aren't you just such a fool? You say nothing has changed and yet you don't blame all that is cruel. (couldn't keep up w kanade even when slowed so this is NOT accurate) Even mutated flowers would refuse to grow within you You're a phony, a fake, and so hard to stand

Hey student, the sitting duck that you are Could never stand to receive such a hideous scar (i.e could never withstand the pain mizuki did) Do your research and kill all your bigotry And if you wish to see just an ignorant, insolent fool Then look inside yourself

That makes you the Clown, a coward, liar, one which no good person can defend. Everything that you've worked for will all fall away in the end. The life you live's a Sisyphean task, dear Prometheus, your emotion has been eaten out. The throne you saw here was a mirage and so the future just escapes your grasp Again.

[dcggersedge]

Her ears prick at the sound of his footsteps. Despite her hopes, they don't get quieter. They stay at the same volume, following along behind her. Yunaka sighs. She knew she wasn't lucky enough that he'd lose interest and leave her alone. She hoped, but she knew it wasn't happening. That uneasy feeling of his eyes on her back doesn't leave until she reaches the mouth of the cave.

She elbows him when he suddenly rushes up behind her, but that's all the response he gets. Yunaka's eyes trail over the cave entrance. No traps, not that she expected any. No signs of life or that an animal might have been using the place as its home either.

Animals that he was clearly also thinking about.

Yunaka glares at him. "Like anyone would believe you." She's a bad person, she's not a freak. She rolls her eyes as she tucks her knife back into place, then leans down to start gathering some rocks. "Fighting something that isn't strong enough to fight back isn't fun, weirdo."

Once she's gathered a small handful of rocks, she stands back up again. She takes one of them in her other hand and rolls it around for a moment, adjusting to the weight.Then, she rears back and throws the rock into the cave. Skip. Skip. Skip. The sound of the rock hitting the ground echoes back to them again and again, until it eventually comes to a stop. No big drop, and no falling into water just yet. Deeming the darkness of the cave safe enough, she enters.

"Supposedly, a lot of ships crash nearby, and some of their cargo drifts into a grotto in here." Gold, probably, but weapons was what she was after. Nice, pretty, hopefully not absolutely ruined by seawater weapons. "So no, no violence and no killing. Totally just normal and boring."

She takes up another rock and tosses it ahead. The sound of solid ground echoes back. "Does the Divine One even know that you're around?" Does anybody?

What are you gonna do, stab me? [Griss & Yunaka]

Affluence | Bow +1

[itmeblog]

There truly is a very wide range of sound designers in the AD space with very different attitudes.

I have seen many who feel like excited scientists who've delved into the unknown and have returned to passionately regale people with everything they've discovered.

It is such a lovely way to experience it.

I am not one of those people.

I am currently staring at my computer with my seemingly Sisyphean task spread before me whispering "sound design is the soul crusher" like a jilted witch.