#CMS mops

[davide45ds]

Innovating Clean: The Future of Smart Homes with Dreame's CMS Mops

The smart home industry is rapidly evolving, and one brand leading the charge is Dreame. Known for their cutting-edge technology and commitment to quality, Dreame is transforming the way we think about home cleaning.

Dreame's CMS mops are a perfect example of this innovation. These smart mops utilize advanced features to ensure a thorough and efficient cleaning experience. With their intelligent design, they not only clean effectively but also save time and energy for users, making home maintenance easier than ever.

Imagine coming home to a clean space without lifting a finger. With Dreame's CMS mops, this can be a reality. They are designed to tackle various surfaces and can adapt to different cleaning needs seamlessly. Plus, their smart connectivity allows for easy control via mobile devices, offering convenience that aligns with modern lifestyles.

Embrace the future of home cleaning with Dreame and experience the joy of a smart home that works for you!

[shopeemix]

Você Não Vai Acreditar no Que Achei na Shopee! Mop Giratório com Cabo de...

[reiderwriter]

🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫

Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).

A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 

He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 

Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 

All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 

He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 

Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 

Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 

Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 

It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 

You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 

And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 

Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 

Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 

“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 

“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 

“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 

“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 

“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 

She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 

You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 

You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 

How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 

How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 

You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.

“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 

“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 

“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 

“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 

You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 

“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”

Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 

“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 

“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 

“Reid?” 

“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 

“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 

“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 

“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 

“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 

He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 

He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 

He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 

A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 

“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 

You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 

“You said to show you-”

“You're not wearing a vest.” 

You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 

He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 

You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 

You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 

Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 

“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”

His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 

“Like this?” 

“A little more… here, let me.” 

You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 

“Try now.” 

Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 

You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.

"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 

“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 

Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 

“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”

He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 

If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 

You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 

Straight into the center of the target. 

“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  

He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 

“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 

“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 

He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 

You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 

Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 

He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.

“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 

“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 

“I'm not-” 

“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 

Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 

That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.

“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 

The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 

He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 

“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 

A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 

Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 

“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 

“What do you need?” 

“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"

He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.

“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 

“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”

You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 

“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 

“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 

Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 

He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 

Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 

Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 

“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 

Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 

“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 

You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 

“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 

He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 

“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 

He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 

“S-Spencer, fuck-” 

“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 

“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 

You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 

“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 

You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 

With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 

Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 

“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 

You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 

“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 

You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 

You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 

Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 

“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 

“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 

You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 

He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 

“Fuck, more. Please more!” 

He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 

“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 

He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 

Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 

“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 

You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 

With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 

Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 

He kept snapping pictures. 

Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 

He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 

In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 

“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 

It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 

Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 

“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 

Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 

His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 

“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 

He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 

“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 

“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 

[yanoverload]

Yandere HellHound

Mom there's a thing in the yard.... What the fuck is that? 

Mono.... You dumb whore.

"Mastuuurrr!!! I made a mess :(((( shorry.... What do you mean you put the bowl before the milk and chereal? I didn't know that!!!"

No sleep again this time. 

No matter how hard you try, the videos, the meditation, hell, even masturbating.

You're too scared that someone is there... Knowing about you. It's been months, months of torture no one can help you with. 

You knew you had a stalker. 

Someone was keeping tabs on your life, craving every little dirty secret you have, just to ruin your life.

You had doubts of who it was, maybe the guy that wanted the promotion at your job but you got it instead? A crazy ex? That incel you argued against on the internet? 

Even a demon, now that they started to show up out of nowhere. Whoever it is, it wants you dead.

You got compromising photos in your work mail. Dog poop in your yard. Razors on your doorstep.

A camera in your window.

Maybe you should get a guard dog... Like your friend suggested. The police didn't move a finger anyway.

The day you decide to leave (after staying inside, terrified to leave and come back to a burnt house) to go to the shelter, your friend calls you.

"I'm at your door! Can I come in? I got a solution for your stalker problem!"

Hesitant, you quietly open the door to see your friend... And a dog.... Fire.... Guy? Thing?

"I thought a normal dog would still be a bit dangerous, so I made a contract with a hellhound on your steed! Did you know they are the tough workers of hell?"

What the fuck?

"This guy can handle anything! And will do anything you ask too, just remember to give him some affection sometimes. Right, Mono?"

"Hello mastur!!! I luv you!!!!" He says half drooling.

.....

Maybe you shouldn't have been friends with a witch. But he seems cozy, and seeing your stalker shitting themselves over this behemoth would probably cleanse your worries.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In this universe, Hellhounds are hardly even considered demons. They are entities made of the hottest fire in hell, handled through their charcoal like skin, the only one capable of handling such heat.

That being said, Mono hates wearing clothes. He uses pants because you order him to, but no shirts.

He has a thorn pattern in his neck, your name in the back. 

You have an "M" at the center of your back. You only noticed days after you got him.

Completely in love with you. Golden retriever behaviour.

If you do not give him attention for too long, he gets needy, and overheats. Be careful of fires!

Diet consists of: wood, charcoal, human fluids, flesh

He seems to be insecure over his eyes, since they are unlike humans.

Very stupid. 

Not thinking when in a rage to protect you can be.... Messy. Keep your mops in hand.

Has one gold tooth. He says he lost his canine when he was younger in a fight with his siblings.

Drools all the time, keep your mops in hand x2.

That's why he speaks a bit crookedly.

Height: 210 cm (6'11 feet) no. I'm not joking.

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

THIRD PLACE

"Can’t Help Myself" (2016 - Sun Yuan & Peng Yu) / "Two Earthlings" (2003/2009 - John Brosio)

CAN'T HELP MYSELF: It’s better to watch a video of it in action. It’s a large robot arm that’s only programmed to repeatedly sweep a pool of red liquid around it. But its task is never done, the liquid eventually oozes back out onto the floor. It just makes me so sad, the futility of its work. Brilliantly, the artists even programmed it to do little gestures during its work. Sometimes the arm will shake or almost wave at the audience. So it feels less mechanical, like it has a personality. People have interpreted it to symbolize many ideas. Like the futility of violence, and those who are tasked with the endless recovery and clean up. It could be about worker exploitation, the dehumanization of victims of violence, policing borders. Regardless of what it means, I feel pity whenever I see it. (nicolaleecallahan)

TWO EARTHLINGS: When I first saw this painting and then it’s title it was like getting punched in the gut. In a good way. It’s super contextualized by it’s title, of course, and it really gets me in the heart!! There’s lots of artwork around that juxtaposes our modern lives with humans of the past in ways that make you feel connected to them and feel a sense of kinship for them, but this one stretches that feeling back millions of years beyond humans back to earlier eras of earth, and makes you feel that sense of connection with ancestors so old and different we aren’t recognizable as each other unless put into perspective in the way this painting and it’s title do, all because we share the same planet. It really really makes me emotional and I think at the very least more people deserve to see it and think about it. (reactorc0re)

("Can't Help Myself" is a Kuka industrial robot made of stainless steel and rubber mopping up cellulose ether in coloured water made by two Chinese artists, Sun Yuan & Peng Yu. This installation was displayed in Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York but was removed from display.

"Two Earthlings" is an oil on canvas piece by John Brosio. It measures 48 x 48 in (122 x122 cm).)

[brainisrotted]

question for my cm/spencer reid fans

[refigiowen]

Process Of Ruin

RiftCorp. Employee: Sasha Darley

Age: 25 years old

Height: 174 cm

Background: Family owned a small bakery in Kolkata District. After an incident involving a now discharged Klepto Corp. employee, in which the employee went into a blind rage and began to feast on the owner's liver, the bakery had to permanently close.

After showing great results in her workplace and during the annual L.O.D Test, Miss Sasha was selected for Klepto Corp's recently created daughter corporation RiftCorp and their "Riftmover Cleanup Crew" Project. During her trial period she will be guided and supervised by Miss Jericho.

The needed procedures have already been completed and Miss Sasha is to be at Shivaji Terminus at 1:30 AM sharp. Should she not arrive on time the standard issue Discipline Charge in her neck will detonate and a squad of janitors will be sent to clean her remains off the street.

Chapter 0.8: Dead Fingers Talking

I stood there, freezing. 1:29 AM, on time just like i was told to be. Just a minute later and my brains would have been all over the walls. Yikes.

I had no expectations from my new job, after all, i wasn't told anything more than that i will be cleaning RiftCorp. trains. And to be honest, that sounded much better than my usual 90 hour week of non stop keyboard clicking and paperwork. Much better. Though i was curious as to why they handed me a gun as part of my equipment, i dared not to ask as well, guns are as rare among civilians as a smile. Firearms and ammunition are basically only available to big corporations or Offices, if they bought a license, and laws regarding weapons are so strict that you might as well just carry a meele weapon around as those are not prohibited. And laws aside, ammunition is insanely expensive. A full magazine of bullets costs almost as much as a decent apartment in Grovestreet District. So with that in mind i kept my mouth shut and accepted the gun.

And so i stood there and waited for my train to arrive, alongside it my supervisor Jericho. They told me even less about her, only that Jericho isn't even her real name. I wondered what kind of person she would be, nice? A pain in the ass? Maybe one of those shy kind of supervisors? "She works on a train", i thought, "maybe she is just a big nerd".

And before i could even finish my in-mind picture of my supervisor, a bright purple rift appeared and the RiftCorp. train, or "Riftmover", almost flew into the station with how fast it was. It was so fast that it took me a good second to even realize what happened. After fixing my hair i was greeted by the door of the train opening and a tall woman wearing glasses standing before me. I took a good look at her, she didn't wear a suit like me but a black trench coat. Only those belonging to The Claw wear those.

She took a deep breathe and an odd smile creeped onto her lips.

"Step inside, Miss Sasha. There is no need for more than this introduction."

And with that she turned around and i immediately followed her into the train.

These Riftmovers are incredibly spacious, like, really spacious. Just the middle row was as wide as an entire bus.

After walking through at least 6 sections i finally decided to say something.

"U-Uhm, Miss Jericho.. Can i ask what exactly im supposed to do? When the passengers arrive that is."

And in what felt like less than a second she turned around and was right in my face.

"So you do possess the ability to speak after all! I thought maybe you had some kind of disability, that your mother had inhaled some unpleasent fumes during her pregnancy!" She had that smile on her face again as she said those words. She then took a step back and continued. "Why, you clean up the train after and during its journey through the city. That is all you need to do, Miss Sasha. The 'bucket' is at the front of the train and i see that they already gave you the 'mop'." She said, grinning as she pointed at the pistol on my hip. "You should get to know each of the 30 sections of this train like the alphabet.. though that might already be a bit too much, remembering the alphabet that is. Nowadays you never know, you know?" (I could barely make out what she was trying to say most of the time). I simply nodded and followed her back to the front of the train where she gestured me to sit down.

"It's 1:45 AM, the passengers should arrive shortly." I said, and to my surpise, was met with a... more normal smile from Miss Jericho. "You're quite the observant crow, are you not? Most don't even realize that they have a bomb installed in their neck until they hear that beeping noise. And here you are accomplishing major achievements! But yes, they will arrive shortly. As such, i will feed you your next bits of knowledge when all passengers have arrived. Until then you may rest. You will need it." And so i waited, Miss Jericho looming over me like a shadow. Sleeping was out of the question..

After 15 minutes hundreds of passengers got onto the train. Soon, all 30 sections were filled and no seat was empty, we were ready. Shortly after i got into position the train began to move. At first it felt as though i was aboard a normal train (at least i think that is what it felt like, a train ticket was always far too expensive for me so i walked to work) until i felt a strange sensation in my stomache and the train began to speed up rapidly. I looked out the window and saw a rift appear in front of the train and in the blink of an eye it had devoured the train whole. After we had left our dimension i turned my head to the passengers. They all passed out. And almost as if she read my mind, Miss Jericho explained what just happened.

"As per RiftCorp regulations i must inform you that all information regarding the Dimensional Rift technology is highly confidential and that everything i share with you must be kept secret. Should you not follow these regulations the Discipline Charge in your neck will be detonated on the spot." She smiled and nodded her head in a way that said "Hope you understood!".

"And as for these passengers, they are fine.

They are as fine and content as a little bird in its nest. These trains are equipped with the Dimensional Rift technology. A Singularity Grade technology originally invented by the Asiyah Association. Klepto Corp. bought it and used it to create RiftCorp, your employer." Miss Jericho then walked into the first section, standing between the two rows of passengers on the left and on the right side of the section.

"These passengers are not here."

"Not here?" I said, confused as to what she meant by that.

"Their minds are still home, yet their bodies are with us in the afterlife." She answered.

At this point i was rather fed up with her way of talking, the constant beating around the bush. Despite being filled with fear that the charge in my neck would just go off if i raised my voice just a bit i took a step forward.

"What the hell are you even saying? Afterlife? Can you just tell me what the hell this all has to do with cleaning up? What do you mean that they aren't really here? And why the fuck did they gave me a gun if all im supposed to do is be a godforsaken JANITOR?!"

And i was more than surprised when the charge didn't start beeping. Before answering my questions Miss Jericho reached into her coat and pulled out a pistol. She then aimed it at the group of passenger to her right, firing multiple bullets into each of them. I couldn't help but vomit on the floor, the sight of these people made me recall the memories of my father and his bakery.

Miss Jericho just stood there and laughed.

"Now, now, fear not Miss Sasha. These people will return to the state they were in before we left our dimension. That doesn't mean their guts and blood will not remain. To those in our dimension a mere second has passed when the train arrives at the other side of the city, in here hours or have passed. That is where the 'janitor' in you gets unleashed!"

I just looked up at her, leaning onto a nearby wall as i wiped the remaining vomit off my lips. "What the fuck?" i mumbled.

"And that gun of yours is for the uninvited visitors we will soon receive. Nay, we are not alone in this.. realm between realms. Creatures of varying shapes and sizes will try to get into the train and enter our realm. Poor souls, lost between time and space, clinging onto a false hope of returning to their loved ones. Certainly, this train is not much different from the afterlife. We leave the realms for hours and kindly execute those who wish to return to their loved ones to ensure the safe travel of our passengers. Was there a part you did not understand, Miss Sasha?"

And there it was again.. that eery smile on her lips as she looked at me with her blood covered face. And as she stood there, pistol in hand, next to a bloody mess of people, i understood that that 90 hour week of paperwork may have just been a better job than this.

[captain-kuppa]

Say ahoy to the cheerleader of deep seas:

Pom Pom Crab!

[Lybia Tessellata]

These crabs are known for their signature move of always carrying a small living sea anemone around, which helps them catch food and protect themselves from predators. And thas' where they get them name from!

They arr also called "Hawaiian Boxer Crabs"

They can live up to 6 years in a human-made, low competition environment.

Yes, it do shake them pom poms. If provoked or attacked by a predator, the pom-pom crab will threaten the aggressor by waving it’s anemones around, the tentacles armed with cnidocytes (stinging cells).

The Pom Pom Crab are very popular in nano tanks. But don't be keeping these wild hearties in a small cage! They belong in deep seas, not yer aquarium.

[ Fun Fact! This fellows Hawaiian name is kūmimi pua, meaning “inedible flower crab”. ]

Lybia tessellata is a small crab growing to a width of about 2.5 cm (1 in).

The females are sometimes seen with a large red egg mass on the lower part of the body. The eggs hatch and undergo several stages before settling down on the sea floor.

The chelipeds(entire claw) do not have the broad chelae (claws) typical of decapod crabs. Instead they are slim and each has a fine finger bearing eight or nine spines.

What a fit fo' the typical cheerleader gal stereotypa!

They be professional cleaners too! The sea anemone’s tentacles can be used like mops, gathering debris and food particles from the ground around the crab’s hiding place.

They be omnivores but apparently prefer animal matter to plant matter. The front claws are not used for feeding at all, and the first pair of working legs are used for feeding.

[1] | [2] | [3] || Kuppa sends big love to me human matey Fall fo' the new crab blog idea.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Plates from The Dinner Party (1974-1979), with raised central motifs based on vulval, floral, and butterfly forms, and rendered in styles appropriate to the individual women being honoured, by American feminist artist, art educator, and writer, Judy Chicago, born in 1939.

Judy Chicago is known for her large collaborative art installation pieces focusing on images of birth and creation, which examine the role of women in history and culture.

Complete work (image in comments with a closeup) ceramic, porcelain, textile, 14.63 x 14.63 m, 47' 3" x 47' 3" approx

Collection of the Brooklyn Museum, New York

The Dinner Party, an important icon of 1970s feminist art and a milestone in twentieth-century art, comprises a massive ceremonial banquet, arranged on a triangular table, symbol of equality, with a total of thirty-nine place settings, each commemorating an important woman from history. The settings consist of embroidered runners, gold chalices and utensils, and china-painted porcelain plates with three-dimensional designs representing individual women, resembling flowers, butterflies, and female genitalia. The names of another 999 women are inscribed in gold on the white tile floor below the triangular table.

The individual plates pictured are:

Top, left to right:

Primordial Goddess plate Virginia Woolf plate Theodora plate

Bottom, left to right:

Saint Bridget plate Hatshepsut plate Boadaceia plate

China paint on porcelain, diameter 35 cm, 14 in approx

* * * *

“When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.” ― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

[mrs-dr-reid]

Babysitting

(A Spencer Reid x Fem!OC Fic)

Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Adri Carmichael (my CM OC)

Summary: Spencer is charged with babysitting the LaMontagne boys as well as little Addie Carmichael-Reid while the BAU Ladies have a night out

Genre: Fluff, Dad!Spence Brainrot

Warnings: Toothrotting fluff, Dad!Spence (need I say more?)

A/N: This is something I finished writing solely for my Discord friend, Ozzie. But also because I love writing Spencer's interactions with my OC after they have their daughter. Also, I'm not gonna bother switching this out of diary-entry style, so have fun with that. Also also, Henry is like 8, Michael is 6 months old, Addie is 2 months old, and my faceclaim for Adri is Amanda Seyfried. Just throwing that out there

Word Count: 1467

————————————————————————————

Status Report:

I just witnessed the cutest thing in the world. I was out with Tara, JJ, and Penelope for a ladies night, and Spencer volunteered to watch all three kiddos (Henry, Michael, and Addie) for the evening because Will was planning on going out with some of his old coworkers at the police station and was concerned about finding a sitter so last minute. Spencer brought me and Addie over to JJ and Will’s because he insisted it would be easier to bring Addie there instead of bringing the boys to our place, and I went upstairs to get ready with the ladies. At the same time, Will gave Spencer the rundown on what the boys needed to get done while we were out. I found everyone in JJ and Will’s master bathroom, and we started getting ready. Tara said, “Are we sure Reid can handle three kids all at once?”, while putting on mascara, so JJ replied, “Well, he did a pretty good job with Henry last time we went out for a ladies' night,” while curling her hair, and both Penelope and I let out joking shudders because all of us got AWFUL hangovers from that night, and Spencer still hasn’t let us forget that we didn’t come back until after sunrise when we said we’d only be gone a couple hours. It also didn’t help that the next morning we had to go support Hotch at his triathlon and all of us were MISERABLE from how bright it was and from all the cheering.

Once we were all ready, we went back downstairs to find Spencer already doing a kid’s puzzle with Henry while bouncing Michael and Addie on his knees. I melted at the sweetness of the scene, then went over to kiss him on the lips before I said, “We shouldn’t be out any later than midnight. I’m the designated driver and JJ isn’t drinking, so we’ll make sure we don’t leave you hanging all night,” which earned a pointed look and a, “Thank god,” from him. I giggled, then squatted down and said, “You’ll be good for Daddy, right?”, to Addie, who flapped her little arms and babbled happily at me. I smiled and said, “Good,” before kissing her nose with a comically exaggerated “Mwah!” sound to make her laugh, then standing up and calling, “Let’s go, Ladies! Party time waits for no one!”, the girls following me out the door while extending their thank you’s to Spencer, who just held up a hand and told us to have fun. And fun, we had. I honestly can’t remember the last time I got to hang out with my best gal pals outside of work like that. We obviously didn’t get up to the same level of debauchery as last time since JJ and I stayed sober the whole night to keep the other ladies on track (still being breastfeeders meant no alcohol for us), but we still had a good time.

Tara and Penelope were giggling messes the whole way back to JJ and Will’s due to the large but still reasonable amount of alcohol they consumed, and we pulled into the driveway at about a quarter after 11. Tara and Penelope were staying the night in the guest bedroom, so they quietly dragged their inebriated butts upstairs while JJ and I followed behind them with lovingly exasperated looks on our faces. The tv was still on and playing what I think was a Spider-Man cartoon, and when I saw a familiar mop of unruly hair poking over the back of the couch, I put out a hand to stop JJ from walking and pointed. She nodded, then the two of us tiptoed around to the front of the couch and proceeded to melt, because Spencer was fast asleep on the couch with Henry snuggled into his side and both Michael and Addie knocked out on his chest. Both of us whipped out our phones and took several pictures (making sure the flash wasn’t on so we wouldn’t wake them up), then I went over and kissed Spencer’s forehead before whispering, “Honey, we’re back,” which made his nose scrunch before he opened his eyes while mumbling, “Mmm, what time is it?”

I smiled and said, “20 after 11. Tara and Penny are staying the night, so I was gonna help JJ bring the boys up to bed before I bring you guys home,” so he said, “No, you go put Addie in the car, I’ll help JJ and pack up Addie’s stuff,” while gesturing for me to grab our daughter off of his chest. I did so, then he very carefully handed Michael to JJ before he scooped Henry up and nodded for JJ to go in front of him. He whispered, “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”, so I whispered back, “Okay,” he smiled, then pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before following JJ upstairs to the boys’ rooms. I shook my head fondly as I watched him go, then strapped Addie into her car seat and brought her out to the car, her not stirring even a little bit the whole time (if there’s one thing she inherited from me, it’s my ability to sleep like the dead in any circumstance). I started up the car (double-checking that the radio was off first), and then Spencer made his way out and plunked into the passenger seat. I giggled, and he let out an only slightly melodramatic sigh before saying, “Thank you for not being out until sunrise again,” so I replied, “You’re welcome. Thank you for taking care of the Three Stooges all night,” which made him wave a hand and say, “Anything for my favorite ladies. Now let’s go home,” causing me to roll my eyes lovingly before saying, “As you wish, My Love,” and pulling out of the driveway.

We made it back to the apartment, and Spencer got out of the car to grab Addie’s car seat while insisting I go ahead and get ready for bed since he was already in a hoodie and sweatpants. I gave in, then as I was taking my makeup off in our bathroom after changing into some pajamas, I heard Addie babbling nonsensically and Spencer talking indistinctly. I went back into our bedroom to find him walking around with a swaddled-up Addie in his arms, and every time she let out a coo or a squeak, he’d say something like, “Really? I never knew that,” or, “Wow, Precious, that’s incredible!”, which made my heart practically turn to mush and a dopey, love-sick smile spread across my face. Spencer turned around to see me standing there, and his smile got even bigger before he teased, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” which made me scoff and say, “Photographic memory, Wise Guy. Don’t need to,” earning an eye roll from my partner.

I walked over to him, then said, “You get in bed, I’ll put her back to sleep,” and when he said, “You sure, Adri?”, I said, “Yes, Love, now give me my Little Lady,” while holding out my hands expectantly. He chuckled, then handed me Addie before kissing my forehead, crawling into bed, and grabbing the book he was rereading for the eighth time. I said, “Okay, Baby Genius, time for your bedtime song,” while adjusting Addie’s blanket, and Addie reached up to grab at my finger as I started to sing, “Edelweiss, Edelweiss, every morning you greet me. Small and white, clean and bright. You look happy to meet me,” Addie cooing at me while I rocked her back and forth. She fell asleep after two choruses, so I very carefully slid her into her crib and tucked her in before whispering, “Sweet Dreams, Miss Adeline,” and climbing into bed beside Spencer, who was looking at me with more love in his eyes than the day we finally told the team we were together.

He whispered, “You’re incredible, Adri. You know that, right?”, so I replied, “You tell me every day, My Love. I know. You’re pretty fantastic, too,” before leaning closer and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He smiled against my mouth, then when I pulled away, he quirked an eyebrow at me and said, “Bedtime?”, which made me let out a tiny snort and confirm, “Bedtime,” making another smile spread across his face. He turned the lamp on his bedside table off, and I snuggled against his chest while letting out a content sigh. I felt his lips press against the top of my head and I heard him whisper, “I adore you, Adrienne Carmichael,” so I whispered back, “I adore you too, Spencer Reid,” before letting the sweet caress of sleep overtake me. That’ll be all for now. Talk soon!

————————————————————————————

CM Taglist: @homoose, @libraryofloveletters, @xgoldentigerlilyx, @less-intelligent-spencerreid, @boketto2-0, @aryaarathornson, @spoookymuulders, @nomajdetective

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[theopenbowl]

Limitations lead to unexpected magic.

I watched All We Imagine as Light last night at Film Forum. Payal Kapadia did q and a with Shuchi Talati. Payal was energetic, open, and joyful.

It packed an emotional wallop that I wasn't expecting. The movie is extremely well-crafted - here is a film maker who loves film and loves her craft. Reminded me a bit of Molly from Rubyfruit Jungle, unshakeable in her trajectory as a film maker.

I found the movie textured and deeply evocative. Visually layered, with a cleverness and precision that other film makers noted, I loved the music and all the sound. The billowing of the blue saris was my favorite shot. The rain in Mumbai. The ridiculous beauty of the fishing villages. That part was giving Anita Desai :-)

I was distraught. The city skyline was unrecognizeable. Wait, was that Bandra station? I spent a good 8 years on those platforms and on those heaving trains, and yesterday I couldn't recognize the color of the inside of a train. Impermanence, displacement and migration are central.

I loved that all the stories were told from a very female-centric lens. She called the men "lulloo" :-) The underlying ideas of space, of belonging, of the need for privacy, of anonymity in a big city, resonated with me very much. She doesn't hesitate to look "violent gentrification", the patriarchy squarely in the eye! She embraced the physicality of the two nurses. No attempt to gussy anything or anyone up. The fragile dignity in the curve of Prabha's neck, how she squats to mop up the rain water, the sex scene with Anu. It is a new sensibility, not one of oppression. That made me happy.

I loved the contrasts, the juxtapositions - rigid grieving Prabha versus joyful seemingly-flighty Anu. Quiet inner struggles versus the predictable din of the train. That feeling of being completely alone versus the raucous communal dancing at Ganeshotsav. Documentary versus fiction. That ever-present feeling of being eclipsed, of encroachment, of being jostled for space, which I think, really is a signature of Mumbai!

I loved hearing little snippets of gujrati, bhojpuri, marathi, bengali - that feels like Bombay. Just like I fully expect to hear russian, spanish and korean on any given night in Manhattan :-) I was gobsmacked that she made the movie in Malayalam! I'd love to learn more about this part - I loved hearing all the well-worn phrases. "Dimaag kharab" "Mumbai meri jaan"

The dream-scene with the drowned man confused me and then pulled me in completely! It felt like a kind of exorcism - Prabha stops looking to the future, no longer beholden to her desire / fantasy that her husband will ask her to come back, she returns at peace to the present. The line where the boy in the shack tells Parvati to stay as long as she'd liked struck me. I loved the last two sentences of the movie. "It is beautiful there. It is beautiful here, too".

I loved how she talks about process, "padhaai" - do, reflect, grow.

I'm madly collecting all the links and facts I can! She thanks her grandmother in the credits! The movie title is "borrowed" from one of her mother's paintings. Love Love Love.

As a scientist working diligently towards promotion, worrying about the implicit bias and shades of grey in my external letters, it was bracing to see film-makers embrace ambiguity, adversity, their craft.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/11/14/movies/all-we-imagine-as-light-review.html

[vexic929]

Arrowverse OC Tecromancer (he/him)

Full name: Marco Macías

Alias: Tecromancer

Gender: Cisgender man (he/him)

Orientation: Homoromantic bisexual

Age: 34

Nationality: Spanish-American

Religion: Catholic

Western Zodiac: Virgo

Eastern Zodiac: Snake

Element: Earth

Birth Stone: Sapphire

Blood-type: A-

Personality Type: INTJ

Disabilities: OCD, needs glasses

Eye color: Brown

Natural Hair Color: Black

Natural Hair Type: 3A

Skin Color: Tan, golden undertones

Height: 5 feet, 11 inches (180 cm)

Weight: 169 lbs (77 kg)

Appearance: Tall with a mop of curly hair he keeps artfully messy, he always dresses in bold colors with traditionally feminine accessories and shoes, he wears his prescription sunglasses more often than his regular glasses

Personality: Sarcastic, proud, calculating, manipulative

Moral Alignment: Lawful Evil

Backstory: Lunaria Saeiqa's current publicity boyfriend, a genius who lived with his father in Barcelona until he was six then moved in with his mother and her then boyfriend in Gotham City; he attended university for robotics and engineering for three years before deciding he was bored and dropping out, using his mother’s wealth and step-father’s connections to debut his first fashion line at 23

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

QUARTERFINALS MATCH ONE

"Can’t Help Myself" (2016 - Sun Yuan & Peng Yu) / "Judith Slaying Holofernes" (c. 1620 - Artemisia Gentileschi)

CAN'T HELP MYSELF: It’s better to watch a video of it in action. It’s a large robot arm that’s only programmed to repeatedly sweep a pool of red liquid around it. But its task is never done, the liquid eventually oozes back out onto the floor. It just makes me so sad, the futility of its work. Brilliantly, the artists even programmed it to do little gestures during its work. Sometimes the arm will shake or almost wave at the audience. So it feels less mechanical, like it has a personality. People have interpreted it to symbolize many ideas. Like the futility of violence, and those who are tasked with the endless recovery and clean up. It could be about worker exploitation, the dehumanization of victims of violence, policing borders. Regardless of what it means, I feel pity whenever I see it. (nicolaleecallahan)

JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES: -if I could eat this painting I would -the blood dripping down the sheets? Judith's grip on Holofernes' hair? her handmaiden helping hold him down? the way their sleeves are rolled up to do the job? the arterial spray? this painting is so real and visceral and i love it -artemisia gentileschi stan for life (unendingballofstress)

("Can't Help Myself" is a Kuka industrial robot made of stainless steel and rubber mopping up cellulose ether in coloured water made by two Chinese artists, Sun Yuan & Peng Yu. This installation was displayed in Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York but was removed from display.

"Judith Slaying Holofernes" is an oil on canvas painting by Italian artist Artemisia Gentileschi. It measures 6′ 6″ x 5′ 4″ (158.8 cm × 125.5 cm) and is located in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.)

[seedsinmygarden]

Phillip Hans, the Knight

“Take my hands, Professor. Feel their warmth as you cross the divide, and know I will always be here for you.”

Basic Information

Identifying Gender/Species: Cisgender Human Male, he/him pronouns.

Birthdate: December 19th, 1873 (Sagittarius)

Blood Status: Unknown. He was abandoned on a doorstep.

Wand: Soft Spiral design, Warm Brown color. English Oak wood, phoenix feather core, 10.5”, swishy flexibility.

Pets?: Not including all the animals in his vivarium? He just has one, a barn owl named Juliet.

Appearance

Height and Body Type: Tall, pretty lean guy but has plenty of muscle, close to the trapezoid body type. As of 5th year, he’s 5’11 (180 cm), but he’ll hit 6’2 (188 cm) by the time he’s done with Hogwarts and well into his career.

Hair: Black. A short, mostly neat mop on his head. Slightly curly towards the end. He just combs it with his hands half the time.

Eyes: Dark brown, like the soil of the Earth. Wears rounded glasses— Merlin, does he need them.

Scars and Other Marks: Mostly childhood stupidity and battle scars (all very minor). One large on his left cheek, a burn mark caused by a firepoke that happened well before he started at Hogwarts. He also has tan skin and freckles scattered across his cheeks.

Clothing: Varies by season. He runs warm, so usually he’s wearing pantaloons and rolling his sleeves up in the summer, but when winter comes around, he dresses appropriately with a cloak, a scarf, and some gloves. His favorite is the rugged tan coat (the one you start the game wearing) as it was a pass-me-down from his dad.

Personality

Phil is a kind and caring young man, always willing to help people and protect those that cannot protect themselves.

While he’s often found on the more serious side in the days his ancient magic is exposed, he does have a good sense of humor! When with friends, he’ll joke around and jab back and forth with them.

Very intelligent. He knows how to hold his guard up mentally— he’s grown up quite a bit early because of it. It takes quite a bit to break him down.

However, he’s also a pretty emotional guy. One only has to be someone he trusts to be so vulnerable around and he’ll break. He’s not afraid of it, he just doesn’t want it to be with the wrong person.

Home Life

Birthplace: Unknown.

Birth Parents: Unknown.

Adopted?: Yes.

Adoptive Parents: Thomas and Vivienne Hans

Siblings?: Not really— he would consider the various other children in Oakdale his siblings, as well as the close friends he’s made in Hogwarts.

Other Guardian Figures: Professor Eleazar Fig, and Professor Matilda Weasley.

Places of Residence: From the day he was abandoned on the Hans’ doorstep, Phil was raised in a little town called Oakdale. In the summer before he would turn 17, Professor Fig showed up and introduced Phil to Hogwarts, who quickly found it to be a new home. After Fig passes near the end of Phil’s fifth year, Phil inherits Fig’s cottage in Aranshire to have a home still in the Hogwarts Valley even when he’s not in school or after he graduates.

Hogwarts Life

House: Gryffindor

Quidditch?: Yes, but only a backup player. (He steps in if a player’s grades are failing or they are injured.)

Clubs: Crossed Wands, Tommy’s Game Club, Reyes’ Racing Club

Other Activites: Going on favors, hanging out with friends, improving on his studies and taking on additional assignments, broom rides, and caring for beasts. Phil is a busy man

Romance?: Yes! He falls for someone he meets in fifth year. He’s hopeful they get together eventually… perhaps he’ll ask her out when the Keeper stuff dies down a bit.

Patronus: To be learned.

Animagus: To be learned.

Boggart: To be learned.

Amortentia: To be learned.

Trivia

Phil is, as explained before in the Home Life section, adopted! His parents, Thomas and Viv, had help from Viv’s brother, Atticus LaCroix.

Viv is French, having immigrated from France. It was long enough ago that she doesn’t have as heavy an accent, but it’s still there.

Viv runs the tavern in Oakdale, a cozy place called the Tree Stump where anyone can come in and rest on their laurels while enjoying good food and drinks.

The Tree Stump’s signature drink is a port called “Tree Sap,” but the most popular drink is just the classic rum.

Tree Stump is connected to the inn that’s next door, run by Atticus.

Thomas owns the town’s library, set in a smaller building but still just as vast. Not quite as popular however, but enough visitors daily to make a steady income.

Oakdale looks small, but it’s actually rather large both in numbers and in buildings. It’s very similar to Hogsmeade, especially in the sense of how much of a huge family it seemed to be.

While it’s a majorly-Muggle town, many magical folk pass through. Oakdale is usually a stop on a trip as it was one of the few actual villages out in that area of the United Kingdom, especially seeing as the Inn is one of the nicest.

Tree Stump is also very popular— kind of like a muggle’s version of the Three Broomsticks LOL. The food is delicious and the drinks are magnificent.

Often thought of as a prince, especially since he’s referred to as the Knight of Hogwarts for saving them from Ranrok in the Battle Below.

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] From the manufacturer Washing Machine, Refrigerator Stand The metal stand effectively protects your machine against rust and damage caused by accidental water spills on the floor or during daily floor mopping. It ensures the safety and longevity of your equipment. Suitable for appliances of all sizes To ensure smooth and efficient movement of appliances on the trolley, it is recommended to lock all four wheels before and after placing them on top. Features Easy Installation The metal stand is nearly constructed and only requires the connecting brackets to be installed. Thanks to the Snap-On design, a single individual can accomplish the installation within five minutes. This is a swift and efficient process. Easy Mobility The feet and wheels have been assembled to the triangle base; you only need to connect the tubes. High weight capacity The primary structure of the stand comprises steel, with a weight capacity of up to 170 Kg, and it is simple to put together. It is a size-flexible item designed to fit most appliance sizes. Rust-Free The stand of the washing machine is constructed entirely out of metal and comes equipped with rubber bushes at the base to provide superior grip. This feature is particularly useful for wet floors as it not only prevents the washing machine from rusting but also safeguards the floor from any damage. Versatile The stand has been developed to accommodate front load washing machines, heavy load refrigerators, and dishwashers of all sizes. The design is scalable. UNIVERSAL STAND: This sturdy Lifelong Metal Stand comes with versatile adoption which can be used as Washing Machine Stand, Coller Stand, Single Door Fridge Stand, Double Door Fridge Stand, Dishwasher Stand or any other machine / furniture at home. ADJUSTSABLE & STURDY: This height adjustable stand can expand from a mimimum of: 45 x 49.5 x 10.5 cm to Max: 81 x 81 x 10.5 cm - makes it an essential stand for home, supporting upto 250 KG of weight. PORTABLE & STABLE: The Adjustable Trolly comes with 8 Strong Wheels to help you move your Washing Machine or Refridgerator or Cooler easily - enabling you to clean the surface with minimal efforts. ANTI VIBRATION SUPPORT: The Metal Machine Stand comes with 8 Anti-Vibration Pads to reduce noise / movement. Compartible for

Automatic or Semi Automatic Washing Machines (Top Load / Front Load) having load capacity from 5 kg to 12 Kg. WARRANTY & INSTALLATION: The Stand comes with 1 year warranty & Easy to Install set up. [ad_2]

[wp100]

i feel like, as long as Ion is head director of WoW, we'll never see old "prestigious" items return (Swift Spectral Tiger, FOR SOME REASON, Mage Tower appearances, MoP CM sets and WoD CM weapons, Corrupted Ashbringer). Not even as recolours (apart from the werebear, of course).

It's kinda weird considering "The Faceless One" was brought back (I just got the title today too, fuck the vision of Stormwind, it's godawful)

Anyway, yeah. It's sad they pick and choose what comes back and what doesn't. None of it makes any sense, but it IS their game, after all.