#bean bag reviews

[whoareyoueventhough]

My Review Of Some Bill and Ted Stuff

hey it's me the bnt body positivity post girl anyway it was my birthday a few days ago so I have some takes

1: Bill and Ted Save The Universe

this book sucked ass. One of the reasons I love Bill and Ted is because they're funny, this book had one good joke in it and I'm 90% sure it was unintentional. The plot felt extremely forced and out of character for pretty much everyone, The one point I found interesting was what they did with Deacon, but they took that cool idea and ran it directly into the trash in the last chapter. There was an extremely unnecessary and out of character divide between Bill and Ted. The whole thing felt off, same with their relationships with their wives and children.

2: The Return of Bill and Ted

this book was MOST excellent, I loved it. There was something funny on every page, the art styles were all amazing and so charming, the storyline felt very legit and VERY bill-n-ted. The characters were so fun and in character, I especially enjoyed Missys mini-story. I read this book second, and I was very worried that it would be as bogus as the first one, but then this panel was on the first page:

And I knew I was in for a good time. Their relationship with their wives and kids was extremely cute, showing them as loving parents but still a bit silly and super in character.

The robots were also portrayed fantastically, every time they came in I was excited.

the time travel gags were hilarious, no matter what time they went to there was always some fantastic antics in true Bill and Ted style. Overall, I totally recommend this book, it's absolutely excellent, look at it it's so good oh my god

Thank you for reading this post. Be excellent to eachother and yourself, and party on dudes :))

[fairmaiden8]

Homguava Bean Bag Chair Sherpa Bean Bag Review

Immerse yourself in the ultimate comfort and relaxation with the Homguava Bean Bag Chair Sherpa Bean Bag Lazy Sofa. Its simple yet sophisticated design seamlessly blends into any room, making it the perfect addition to your living room, bedroom, or dorm room. The soft sherpa teddy fabric envelops you in a warm and cozy embrace, while the high density foam filling provides reliable support for…

[bluepoodle7]

#Poshi #PoshiSteamedAndMarinatedLimeAndGarlicFrenchBeans#BaggedFlavoredFrenchBeansReview

I tried the Poshi Steamed And Marinated Lime And Garlic French Beans and it was pretty good.

These were firm and soft while also well seasoned.

These were easy to eat.

These had a light olive oil taste to these french beans but still had the flavor of the lime but I didn't taste the garlic.

These tasted fresh for bagged vegetables and had a light oily seasoned texture.

These were firm and soft.

These were lightly salty tasting to me.

I would eat these again.

Got at Online.

[verdemoun]

time warp au shitpost but bessie forcing them to go to a library as an outing because lord do these cowboys need something to do other than re-traumatise themselves, drink and sit in the dark staring at walls. after the initial pushback (kieran terrified to leave the house duffy, sean god gave me the ability not to read macguire) they would absolutely love it

okay lenny loves reading so much he would read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle. he's systematically working his way through non-fiction and is the only one who actually gets in trouble because he forgets they're not his own books and sometimes annotates them

sean initially only agreed to go for the crappy outdated gaming console but he would happen across a comic book, flick through a few of those, then graduate to graphic novels and manga. cut to lenny smiling warmly as he's reading something about astrophysics while sean is trying to excitedly explain the most violent, fucked up thing to happen in a comic based solely on the images

there's a reading/emotional support dog that immediately gravitates to kieran. he really enjoys the general quietness of libraries and the smell of books. give me kieran sitting in a bean bag listening to audiobooks patting a golden retriever with its head plopped on his lap.

haha kieran and horse books no fuck you mary-beth lived to 104 and is revered as one of america's best female writers all her novels are classics and kieran is so happy one of his only friends actually got out of the VDLs and lived a good life he's slowly listening his way through her expansive works occasionally giggling at lines that feel like inside jokes

bessie and hosea peacefully reading academic journals and poetry under a big sunny window. hosea quietly reading aloud a few lines of poetry that reminds him of his incredible wife. bessie reading particularly bad takes in peer-reviewed essays so they can both be annoyed.

side tangent even though bessie has been in modern era for a good 15-20 years she never quite got slang but still uses it, which hosea also picks up. lenny: dutch shot and killed leviticus cornwall bessie: cringe hosea, nodding in thoughtful agreement: that was not very girlboss

[iamthemess]

Seeing as no one sees my posts I'm just gonna place the first chapter of a fic I'm working on and see what happens.

If, you read it, leave a review because it desperately needs an outsiders eye (I'm going fcking insane)

important tags - TW ig? mention of Dazai not being able to take care of himself, possible arson.

Dazai/Chuuya

it doesn't have a title so i've just been calling it "oh mah gawd they were roommates."

“Who set the fire?”  Fukuzawa looked disappointed at his detectives, all standing in front of him in a line.

He had that look on his face. That look of pure how the fuck could you manage this? Mixed with what have my grown ass children done this time?

No Fukuzawa did not consider every agency member as one of his children but he did care deeply for each and every one of them -most of the time- but sometimes it really did feel like he was father to a small kindergarten.

Behind them -the aforementioned kindergarten- was the horrifying sight of what remained of their dorm building smouldering in the background. Some of the structure was still on fire but was quickly put out by the fire fighters that had arrived on the scene.

Now the only thing left of it was some of the remaining skeleton of the building that was painted black in soot after almost, but not quite, burning completely.

Everyone glanced nervously at each other, not sure what to say. Most of them were covered in ash and dirt, their hair messy and all in their pyjamas, except for Dazai who didn’t plan on sleeping or perhaps he had gotten used to passing out in his work clothes.

Whichever it was he would surely continue to wear them, even though they were now imprinted with the smell of smoke and the bottom of his coat was burnt off. Really it was a miracle he hadn't set himself on fire yet or that Atsushi wasn't on fire… still.

They had all fought for their lives and the lives of their co-workers to make it out of the burning building. Unfortunately only one smoke detector went off, leaving them until it was too late to realise they were in danger. 

Perhaps if someone had remembered to tell Kunikida they broke the alarm system they would have been more prepared for the fire engulfing their favourite set of plates.

Luckily the agency members are known for being able to get out of chaotic situations such as these with minimal harm. If it weren’t for Kunikida and Yosano the harm would’ve been less minimal… 

Ranpo took one look at the building and sighed when he noticed everyone else staring at him. “What? The building is old. Most likely faulty wires or something.”

Fukuzawa sighed with relief, he was glad to hear it wasn’t one of his subordinates that accidentally burned down their home. Which was a very real and completely understandable thought to have, but now they didn’t have anywhere to sleep. “Yosano please get the emergency blankets and pillows. Everyone can sleep in the office tonight.”

Yosano -and without a word Ranpo- went to the agency to set up their temporary sleeping arrangements. “Everyone try and get some rest. We’ll work the issue out in the morning.” Fukuzawa dismissed the rest of them to go set up in the office for the rest of the night.

Thanks to Ranpo, the pillows and blankets ended up being thrown all over the room wherever there was space between the desks and chairs. Although it was more likely he had been trying to make himself a blanket fort before giving halfway.

They let Kenji and Kyouka squeeze onto the couch in the break room with their pillows and a large blanket Yosano found in a storage closet. 

Atsushi looked concerningly comfortable sleeping on the carpeted floor with a binder of paper for a pillow despite Yosano insisting he take one of the pillows Ranpo was hoarding. 

And Ranpo, despite his bean bag he and Yosano were sharing, had several other pillows piled up, surrounding him in a sad-looking pillow fort that could not have rivalled the failed blanket fort. 

Even so Ranpo discouraged anyone who try to steal from his hoard with a well placed glare and if it happened to be too dark to see, a good bite was also just as effective.

Yosano was not as pleased with this resolution as Ranpo was.

The only people who weren’t looking for a comfortable place to sleep were Dazai and Kunikida. Dazai didn’t sleep much anyway and resorted to standing in the middle of the room like some sort of demon.

Kunikida on the other hand looked dead tired as he was typing away on his phone furiously. He was typing so hard they could have sworn he had generated enough electricity for his chair to take off down the street.

“What ya doing Kunikida?” Dazai poked his head over his disgruntled co-workers shoulder to look at his phone much to Kunikida’s annoyance.

“I’m looking for a place to stay. I suggest you do the same.” Kunikida pushed his glasses up his face and went back to typing on his phone. Dazai looked around at the others, Atsushi and Yosano were also on their phones. 

A modern day affliction took on my most to continuously check social media… but they were probably just researching housing options. The more sensible choice.

They were both extremely concentrated, obviously doing the same as Kunikida. In situations like these, it was obvious to them that they needed an immediate plan, on the other hand a person like Ranpo was already asleep. 

Knowing him he already had a nice house ready and waiting for him and he wouldn’t even ask if he could stay, he’ll just walk right in and make himself at home the only reason he was still sitting with the other members was what he calls “Moral support.”

Ever the cheerleader Ranpo chose to stay and spend the night with the team, despite the fact he spent over half of the week sleeping at Poe's house. Whether that be a pre planned decision or a night he decides to randomly show up on his doorstep.

“Kunikida is right Dazai, you should be looking for somewhere to stay. Unless you enjoy the office/home lifestyle.” Yosano side eyed while still keeping her blunt tone when addressing Dazai. 

If things like that had affected him at all surely Dazai would have been thrown to the floor with the amount of psychic damage the doctor was aiming at him with her vicious stare. Although she was known to also be physically capable of such feats of strength. 

“I already have some place in mind. You two on the other hand can enjoy the office's 5-star accommodations.” Dazai replied, watching the styrofoam balls spill out the side of the bean bag, slowly, one by one like a sad waterfall or more accurately a leaky tap. 

“Dazai, please find a place to stay. I don’t want to have to drag you off of the street in the middle of the night.” Atsushi sighed at the thought of losing any more sleep than he already had. 

Dazai’s co-workers had no faith in him. They had already assumed he would opt to sleep on a sidewalk in a box somewhere, something that he had not done for several years.

Surely no one would blame him for taking offence that they would even suggest he would do such a thing in spite of its complete accuracy, not that they had any means of proving it.

“And don’t diss my beanbag. This thing is armed detective agency history. It’s the only thing we had in here when we first started” Yosano defended her bean bag as little spheres of styrofoam continued to fall out and roll across the floor.

Some of which made their way to Atsushi in some sort of soft, amateurish ambush by styrofoam. 

It was rather amusing to think about Ranpo and Yosano only having a beanbag when they first started the agency. The thought made Atsushi smile until he laughed slightly too hard and inhaled one of the little balls. His co-workers were not so concerned about it as he was.

“So you got a place?” Yosano asked, reminding Atsushi of his devastating task whilst he coughed up half a lung from the attack. He might as well lay down and die. Not the most outstanding death to be had in history but surely it would be an alright way to go, and he wouldn’t have to think about any future living accommodations.

Luckily Yosano spared him the long, suffering death with a well placed slap on the back. 

“No, but I was thinking I could find a place like this for myself. I thought it would be good for me to do something like that.” He nervously tried to explain with a slightly scratchy voice and inbetween the last few coughs from his fit.

Obviously, he couldn’t get a house by himself but maybe a place with a roommate or something. He had been saving up a lot of money to do this so what better time to do it? Although the thought made his stomach turn. Being independent is scary. 

“Maybe you and Dazai can share, then we won’t have to worry about you both dying alone,” Kunikida mumbled from his seat like a grouch. 

Unfortunately, no one else defended either of them, mostly because everyone else was already asleep and Yosano wholeheartedly agreed with Kunikida. It was probably the best option for those two hazards to stick together for now or they might not survive. It’s a miracle they’d ever made it this long and that was with support.

Atsushi said something to defend himself  and with Yosano distracted Dazai took this as his chance to leave unnoticed and casually walked to the door in the dark, assuming she had already started a heated argument with Atsushi about his inability to survive.

“Hold it, what are you doing? Do you know what time it is? Where are you going.” Yosano demanded to know, sounding like a suspicious mother, as she caught Dazai's silhouette moving in the shadows. She most definitely had the commanding voice worthy of such a title. “I swear if we have to drag you off of the street tomorrow-“

Surely those words could have also sent Dazai flying to the wall as if punched by a brute so Dazai shut the door quickly so he wouldn’t have to listen to Yosano complain about him to his face or actually end up with his face in a wall. At least she didn’t come after him, he remembers some other people he knew who wouldn’t let him go so easily. Now to put his plan into action.

[bettsfic]

i can't stay quiet about this anymore. for weeks now i've thought, noo i won't write about knights of the zodiac on my blog. nobody cares. BUT it is the weirdest fucking movie i've ever seen and i need to tell you about it.

knights of the zodiac is an american made live action adaptation of the anime/manga saint seiya. before this film, i'd never even heard of it, but that doesn't matter, because i watched an interview with mackenyu (who plays seiya) who said that the director told him not to bother watching the anime or reading the manga, because he wanted this movie to be its own thing. you know, which is always a great way to bring in your core audience.

with that said, i'm viewing this film entirely on its own merit, with no context of the source material. so saint seiya fans may not want to read this.

the movie came out this past may. i was excited about it for no other reason than mackenyu starring in an american action movie. i'm honestly a little surprised people weren't more jazzed about that. there aren't a lot of japanese actors starring in big budget american action movies.

other cast members include sean bean (who, spoiler alert, dies), famke janssen, and mark dacascos. in case you don't recognize those names, they are, respectively, boromir/ned stark, jean grey from x-men, and the iron chef. if nothing else, i think it's worth watching for the utterly bizarre casting.

the premise, sort of: mackenyu, who appears to be contractually obligated to play angsty younger brother characters (i think this is the 7th thing i've seen him in where he is an angsty younger brother), has an older sister who is missing. he's a poor orphan boy who gets by on winning cage fights. or something. so boromir finds him and tells him he's destined to be athena's bodyguard, and he gets on board with this alarmingly fast, but not after antagonizing athena (who is not yet athena) and throwing out some snarky one-liners. he trains in the middle of nowhere with a masked lady who repeatedly kicks his ass, and he never changes clothes the entire time. there's other stuff too but it's secondary to the absolute batshittery of this movie.

i saw it on premiere night, which was also the premiere night of the new guardians of the galaxy movie. again, A+ move by the promotional team. so there i was on a saturday at 7pm. prime movie going time. and my best friend and i were the only ones in the theater.

although i had no real expectations for this movie beyond Mackenyu Hits Things And Is Sad, i believed one of two things would happen: it would be as terrible as it sounded, or it would actually be phenomenal. but no, it was neither bad, nor good, but a secret third thing: it scratched a deep and rabid part of my id.

and by that i mean, it appeared to be a very high budget love letter to glaringly submissive men.

here's my letterboxd review that i wrote in the brief hypomanic episode succeeding my initial viewing:

okay so first and most importantly, this scene made me actually scream:

it's a joke line, sure, but 1) he definitely means it, and 2) he immediately calls her "princess," which if you've ever read my fic, you'll know that that's a one-hit KO for me.

(putting this under a cut because it's already long)

you see how athena is framed above seiya? that is one of approximately 1000 shots where this occurs. to every male character. at one point, mackenyu perches gingerly on the back of athena's motorcycle. in fact the only male character who attempts to be dominant aggressive and toxically masculine becomes the punching bag of the film.

in the beginning, seiya is in a cage match where people are getting angry at him for "dancing," which means he doesn't fight so much as avoids getting hit and looks pretty doing it. a solid third of the movie involves a very large lady beating the crap out of him. the premise of the film is getting him to devote his entire life to a goddess and obey protect her at all costs.

i'm probably the only one who watched this movie and was like, hmm is this kink coded? am i insane for seeing this? usually when i think of kink coding i think of quentin tarantino's foot fetish, these long gaudy shots of women's feet hanging out of car windows. it's in the imagery and shot composition and power dynamics.

here, the imagery is a lot of kneeling men, the shot compositions repeatedly place the men lower than the women, and the power dynamics are simply that the women have all the power, and the men have a little, as a treat. jean grey is a straight-up femdom, leather and all.

by the end of the climax, seiya is naked, having been stripped of his (magical and very powerful) armor as pre-athena becomes athena and uh, blasts his clothes off in the process. there's probably something to be said there about, you know, literally stripping him of his power.

i think what i find particularly remarkable about this is that the repeated feminization of the male lead is treated as a good thing. a self-actualizing thing. it's the process through which he accepts himself and his destiny. that's the reason i say it's a love letter--i've known a lot of submissive men and many of them really struggle to accept that part of themselves. i had a friend once who was so ashamed of himself--not just that he was submissive, but that submission was an integral part of his identity--that he had a breakdown in my car over it. so i think it's nice seeing a vaguely positive portrayal of finding oneself through (textually) devotion and (subtextually) submission.

god help me, seiya spends the entire film being irritating and bratty. this movie is my personal kryptonite.

don't get me wrong, it's a terrible movie. the writing is awful, the direction is awful, and if it gets a second film, i'll be shocked. it received a 1.9 (out of 5) on letterboxd and a 4.4 (out of 10) on imdb.

but i've also always been a lover of the star wars prequels (and oh boy there's a lot to be said there about submissive men) and so my patience for bad writing is infinite in the face of interesting things happening on a character level. in a world of disneyfied stock plots and bloated marvel franchises, i appreciate when a movie tries to do something different, even if it doesn't do it very well.

anyway, i can't in good conscience recommend it, but i for one plan to watch it at least a hundred more times.

[randomthefox]

Okay let's dispel this Goku is a bad dad because of the Cell fight once and for all

"Ohhh Goku made his 11 year old son fight Cell, ohhh he gave Cell a senzu bean ooohh Goku is such a bad dad" shut up you're wrong and we're gonna talk about it by reviewing the manga. No anime filler and no T4S parody bullshit, only the manga as written and drawn by Akira Toriyama.

First of all there are plenty of hints seeded during the Goku vs Cell fight that Gohan is being set up as being way more powerful than he even realizes.

Goku is so powerful that everyone else is freaking out, but Gohan isn't impressed. Gohan sincerely thinks his dad isn't going full strength, that he's just warming up, and doesn't understand why everyone else thinks it's such a big deal.

And during the fight Gohan has no trouble following along without comment, whereas everyone else is doing the typical peanut gallery thing of "WHOA SO FAST I CAN BARELY KEEP UP!"

What's crucial here also is Goku pretty definitively could not beat Cell. Goku is hopelessly outmatched, something Goku was even aware of BEFORE they started fighting. Goku has no ego when it comes to this kind of thing, he is always keenly aware of when he's stronger or not as strong as somebody else and has no sense of pride or shame about admitting that. He knows Cell is stronger than him, that he can't win.

So, Goku gives up much to everyones shock. And that's when he tags in Gohan. Gohan is surprised, everyone is surprised, but Goku's reasoning is pretty simple and to the point. Gohan is WAY more powerful than even he realizes, but Goku being devoid of ego knows just how much Gohan outclasses him. At this point it's just a matter of getting Gohan to believe in himself.

Gohan legit thought that they weren't even fighting "for real" and Goku has to point out to him that he was going full power, but Gohan is SO FAR BEYOND Goku at this point that Gohan couldn't even realize that. He loves and looks up to his dad so much that he can't see the power gap between them for what it is.

Goku is trying to encourage his son to do what he knows nobody else can. He's putting the weight of the world on an 11 year old boys shoulders and sending him into a life or death fight against a monster. And yes, that is unfair. And yes, that is extremely fucked up. But it's not like they have any other choice here. Goku CAN. NOT. BEAT. CELL. It's either Gohan beats him, or everybody dies. Goku is playing the bad hand that life has dealt them, and it sucks that those are the cards they have but denying the reality of that situation isn't going to change anything. Protecting the child is not the right play here, because at the end of the day he's dead whether Goku is right or wrong.

But thankfully, Goku is right. Goku is very very right. Gohan is unbelievably strong. Even BEFORE having his full power unleashed by rage, Gohan in just base Super Saiyan form is so powerful that he's an even match for Cell. Giving Cell the senzu bean didn't make a difference, because Cell was never for a single moment a physical danger for Gohan.

Anime filler skews peoples perception of SS1Gohan vs Cell. During the initial square off, Gohan does not fight back against Cell at all. He doesn't throw a single punch or kick or ki blast. He blocks and dodges and gets knocked around a bit, but Gohan does not do anything else. He essentially lets Cell show him what he's got, and in the end Gohan realizes Goku was right too. He realizes he can absolutely 100% defeat Cell. That Cell is not actually a threat to him. Cell is a bug compared to Gohan.

And realizing that reality is what scares Gohan, not the physical threat of Cell as a fighter. And that's what Goku's mistake was.

Goku thinks that Gohan being pushed up against the wall is all it takes to unleash the beast within, but once that happens and Gohan rages out they got this in the bag. He's seen that power first hand, and so have we. But this is a mistake, Goku doesn't understand his son as well as he thinks he does. And this is the crucial moment that the "Goku is a bad dad" crowd always misses. That Goku REALIZES that he HAS MADE A MISTAKE.

Again, putting all this on Gohan without even going over the plan with him WAS a mistake. But one mistake, a very understandable and relateable mistake that anyone, any parent, could make does not a bad dad make. Especially considering Goku realizes the error of his ways, and immediately admits to it upon doing so and acts to correct his mistake. He asks for a senzu bean to heal up so he can rush back into the fight with Cell, a fight he KNOWS HE CANNOT WIN. He's willing to throw himself to his death to protect his son, just like Piccolo, just like he's done before, because he realized he was mistaken. And he apologizes for it.

Luckily for everyone at the end of the day, Goku WAS right about Gohan. How he went about the plan was flawed, but Gohan did have that beast within. Ironically Cell did a much better job of bringing it out than Goku did. It really required a slow drip feed to get it done, because Gohan is working through quite a fall of self awareness of his own capabilities and reservation about those capabilities. He knows he HAS to snap, but he doesn't want to. So it takes quite a lot to get him over that hump, and Goku just wasn't able to get him there or realizing what it would take to get him there because he was blinded by his love for and belief in his son. Cell is just a monster who wants to amuse himself, so his unabashed cruelty does the trick.

Gohan was teetering on the edge. At this point ANYBODIES death would have pushed him over. Cell could have killed Mr Satan for all the difference it made. That's why I personally don't think 16's speech really made a single bit of difference, it was just the final stomp that was the straw that broke the camels back.

And that's that. Gohan has awoken. And god damn is Goku happy that he ended up being right and didn't accidentally get everyone killed.

Considering the circumstances, this seems understandable. Goku is relieved that he, his son, and everyone else, is NOT going to die after all. He was mistaken, he was humbled for that mistake, and now he is uplifted by his faith not being misplaced. This isn't "neener neener I was right you're welcome" this is "oh thank GOD this actually worked out."

And again, anime filler really warps peoples perception of how things play out from here. Because the fight with SSJ2 Gohan is a complete and total curb stomp. It's so ridiculously one sided I cannot even put it into words. SSJ2 Gohan is a god walking the earth.

This is pretty gratifying. "I'll turn your laughter into fear indeed."

and damn is he a smug little jerk about it. Gohan was afraid of what he would become if he snapped, and boy were those fears justified.

Now it's Gohan's mistake. He drags out the fight because he wants to make Cell suffer. And that pushes Cell to the point of blowing himself up along with the planet. This whole fight is just everybody showing their ass to be honest.

But Goku, mister worst anime dad, is willing to step up and take responsibility. He takes ownership of his mistake. He takes ownership of GOHAN'S mistake. He's willing to take the bullet and fix his own mess, sacrificing his life to save his son and the world. And again, scrub the Team 4 Star out of your brain: Goku has been wished back to life by the Dragon Balls once before. He CANNOT be wished back again. This is a legit sacrifice.

Wow what a bad dad amirite?

Goku sending Gohan in against Cell is not the smoking gun you think it is. If anything it's an example in the "Goku is a GOOD dad" column. He made a mistake, he is a human being. Human beings make mistakes. Parents make mistakes. A parent making one mistake doesn't make them a bad parent. Especially when he admits it was a mistake, and takes responsibility for it and corrects it.

Bonus: Chichi being devastated over Goku's death because she loves him and he was not a bad husband either.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Fake Dating - TAZNC Day 1

It's @taznovembercelebration time again!!! My first card pull was "Fake Dating" (delicious, also, we're already off the rails). Want to take part too? Find to post here. You can write, draw, share thoughts, anything. It's just a fun time to talk about taz!

Anyway, have some Taakitz! Read below or on Ao3:

--

“Krav, Kraverooni, Kravino, please? Taako’s asking you from the bottom of his tiny shrivelled up husk of a heart.” 

Kravitz rolls his eyes. “You hand reared a litter of kittens you found in a bin bag.”

“Easy money, the resell on those.” Taako says all faux nonchalant, flipping his hand as if Kravitz didn’t sit up all night with him so they could take shifts to sleep but both woke up for every single feed alarm anyway.

“You kept three of them and gave the others away for free.” Kravitz says flatly, "... In fact!" He's worked up now, he's remembering "... You did home inspections for every one to check they'd be safe and happy." There’s no chance he’s going to let Taako pretend he doesn’t care. He cares often and passionately in various directions. “Anyway, who was the one who organised the letter writing campaign to Angus’ school when they tried to stop his soccer team’s funding and put it into the football team?”

“Anyone would have done that.”

“Did anyone else?”

“They might have.”

“If you didn’t?”

“If I didn’t.” There’s a long pause. “It’s not because I care though. Taako just didn’t want to see his sad little face.”

“Because you don’t care.”

“Because he takes up more room when he’s sad. It gets everywhere, the child mope. I’d have to scrub it out of the floors.”

“And why would he be moping here?”

“Because… I… It’s court ordered.”

“Uh huh.” Kravitz has him on the ropes.

“And there’s evidence of that, then, is there? If I googled your name I’d see the sentencing?”

“I had Google wiped by data assassins.”

“I assume you have a copy of the paperwork I could review?”

“Cats ate it.”

“Which ones?”

“This one!” Taako indicated Tiny Taco, who’s gnawing at the string of Kravitz’s shoe. Taako’s got him here, it’s plausible, but…

“Cats plural, who were the accomplices?” 

“You don’t know them. Strange cats, a bad crowd that Taco’s been hanging out with. I’ve tried telling him, Taco, son, they’re not worthy of your time, they’re leading you down a bad path, can’t you just play nicely with Garyl and Beans? But no, he worries me sick instead.”

“Taco’s a house cat.”

“He’s been running up massive phone bills.”

“How did they get in the house to eat the documents with him?”

“He pushed it under the door and they lady and the tramped it.”

“You have a porch, the cats aren’t allowed in the porch.”

“The back door.”

“Uh huh. And this flagrant fabrication is easier than admitting you want nice things for Angus?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll think I care.”

“You do care. I watch you care all the time! Today you cared at least three times before breakfast.”

“Nuh uh.” Taako’s squirming in place now, he can’t run though, it’s his house.

“Yuh huh. Who helped Grant with the papers to set up his juice stand?”

“Well it made sense, I set up Sizzle It Up so I knew what to do. It was a chance for Taako to show off.”

“You helped coach Sloane to ask Hurley out.”

“So she’d stop whinging about it to you. She was taking up my valuable Kravitz time.”

“You care about me then?”

“No.” Taako looks pained when he realises what he said and how quickly he said it. “Just the normal amount. The friends amount.”

Kravitz tries not to let it sting. Of course Taako just wants to be friends. It’s fine. Kravitz is a grown up, he can look after himself. He shouldn’t have let it get this far, shouldn’t have let his feelings get so deep. It’s fine, he can just change the subject, they don’t have to do this now, especially not with the current context. “You didn’t let Magnus pet the bear.” 

“I should have.” Taako says darkly. “Then I wouldn’t have had needed to listen to him complain all the way home.” 

“Also you didn’t want him to die?” Kravitz asks casually, trap closing.

“I’m not a monster.”

“Show off, I can’t believe you’d be so insensitive.” Kravitz flops backwards onto the chair, hand across his eyes.

Taako throws a cushion at him. “Come off it, you love it, wolf boy.”

Kravitz sits up, grins to show off his slightly-sharper-than-they-should-be teeth. “Sounds like I’m not the only one.”

“It’s such a good club, Krav. Lup and Magnus are always saying how fabulous it is there, and who’s more fabulous than Taako?” 

“Good point. I can’t think of many people.” He means it, is the problem, Kravitz can’t think of anyone more fabulous, more funny, more handsome… nope!

“Then you see why Taako’s solution is perfect?”

Ah fuck. They’re back to where they started.

“Why me?”

“Do you know any other single werewolves who’d be down to fake-date Taako into The Starblaster?”

Kravitz growls low and slow, surprises himself just as much as Taako. “Er. That… I… I have to go to the bathroom.” Kravitz flings himself off the sofa, dives towards the toilet, slams the lock home, and tries not to let the panic take hold. Maybe Taako didn’t even notice? How often was he even around werewolves? Did he even know what that was? Like, fine, yes, his sister was married to Barry, and Magnus was married to Julia, and Taako was part of their families and he’d seen the dating process up close, and… fuck. No no, it was fine. He was psyching himself out unnecessarily. Barry told him all the time that he worried too much, ocerthought everything, this was fine, good even, he’d just say that it was a cough if Taako asked.

Kravitz splashes his face with cool water. It doesn't help as much as he hoped, but it was worth a go. "It's fine." He says firmly to his own reflection. "He didn't even notice."

“So I couldn’t help but notice…” Taako says, the second Kravitz re-enters the room. It’s probably too late to go hide again. “... that you might be feeling a bit possessive when it comes to other weres dating yours truly.”

“It was a cough.” Says Kravitz, not even convincing himself.

“Uh huh.” Taako isn’t convinced either. “You know, the only condition of getting into The Starblaster is that you're a were or you’re dating one.”

“I’m aware.” Kravitz cannot believe Taako is still focused on the club while simultaneously tearing away the carefully constructed wall Kravitz has been using to hide his ridiculous unwanted feelings for months. Doesn't he care? He could at least be offended. The indifference hurts.

“Well it doesn’t have to be fake. I didn’t realise you’d be down.”

“Are you offering to sleep with me to get into the stupid club?” Kravitz is angry now, furious. He thought they were friends, he thought Taako wanted some kind of relationship with him - even if it was just friendship, he would have been happy with friendship. He doesn’t want this, it should be special, not just some flippant transactional thing.

“No! I’m offering to sleep with you because I like you, you idiot.”

“Wait, did you just proposition me, confess you have a crush on me, and call me an idiot in the same breath?” Kravitz didn’t know whether to be offended or elated, settles on something in the middle.

“Sounds about right. Wanna kiss about it?” 

Kravitz does, in fact, want to kiss about it, but first he needs to know what is going on. “You like me? Romantically like me?” 

Taako arches an eyebrow and looks peeved about the lack of kissing. “Obviously.”

“For the club?”

“A bit for the club.” Taako’s forehead wrinkles. “It’s really cool. I’m not going to lie to you. But that’s more a perk of the boning, not the reason for it.”

Kravitz sinks down onto the sofa. Taako likes him back, Taako likes him back and not just because he wants to go to the stupid club.

“If anything, the boning will be the biggest perk of the boning.” Taako says cheerfully, pats him on the shoulder.

“Why are you like this?” Kravitz asks through his hands, face buried.

“You love it.” Taako says, plonking himself down next to Kravitz and throwing an arm around him. “Can we skip to the kissing bit now, or do I need to tell you about how I was gonna fake date you so hard you’d forget we weren’t real dating?”

“Can we do both?”

“You want me to talk through the kisses?”

“Between them?”

“Fine, but it’s a talk sandwich, kissing bread.”

“Kissing bread.” Kravitz extracts his face from his hands, sits up, and nods solemnly.

“Here we go!” Taako says, leaning in. 

“No!” Kravitz scoots backwards. “That was terrible, awful. Our first kiss is not going to be prefaced by “here we go!””

“You do better then.” Taako’s arms are crossed and he’s doing the frowny thing and Kraivtz is going to kiss every grumpy furrow out of his brow.

“I’ve wanted to do this for months.” Says Kravitz simply, makes it inches from Taako’s lips before he pulls back.

“That’s not fair! You can’t just be all suave out of nowhere. What am I supposed to say to top that?”

“You don't need to top it, it’s not a competition.”

“It could be. If it was.”

“Well it isn’t.” Kravitz says firmly. He reaches for Taako, trying to draw him back in. They were so close to finally getting it together.

“Buckle up, sweetlips.”

Kravitz stands, horrified. “Taako! What… why would you?”

Taako’s too busy laughing to answer. “Your… your face!” He gasps out.

“Do you want to kiss or not?” Kravitz is trying not to be petulant, he’s trying so hard, he’s failing.

Taako dives forward and crashes their mouths together. Kravitz can’t entirely tell when his mouth opened, or when exactly Taako started to nip at his lip, but it’s good, it’s great, even. Kravitz’s hands pull Taako closer, closer, closer, cradle his face, weave into his hair, help pull him down when he moves to straddle Kravitz’s lap. It’s messy and passionate and perfect, he doesn’t want it to end.

“Wanna kiss or not?” Taako pulls back, then snorts with laughter.

“I would love to do more kisses, why don’t you come back down here?” Kravitz asks, running a hand over Taako’s chest in what he hopes is an alluring manner.

“No, you said… I… it’s perfect. “Wanna kiss or not?” and then we did. That’s how we got together.” He collapses onto Kravitz’s chest, giggling furiously.

“You tricked me!” 

Taako laughs harder.

“We’re going to have to tell people that when they ask.” Kravitz says, aghast. He really doesn't want to have to tell anyone this story.

Taako attempts to sit back, taking a moment to collect himself. “We’re going to <i>get&lt;/i> to tell people when they ask. What a gift!”

“A gift.” Kravitz repeats, quietly, carefully. 

“Hey Krav?”

“Yes Taako?” 

“I think you’re great.”

“I think you’re great too.”

“Wanna kiss about it?”

Kravitz cups Taako’s face, brings it gently, reverently towards him like Taako’s the most precious thing in the world. He might be in this moment. Kravitz kisses each cheek softly, then his nose, his forehead, and finally his lips. It’s gentle, tentative, full of care.

Taako pulls back. “You’re going to tell people this was what happened, aren’t you?”

“Yep!” Kravitz says happily, pressing their lips together again.

“Fine. But I’m telling the real story.” Taako says huffily before kissing a firm line from Kravitz’s collar bone to his jaw. “The people need to know.”

“Uh huh.”  Kravitz is finding it harder to focus on anything but the insistent kisses on his neck and the hands working themselves down his chest. “Gotta give the people the…” He tails off as Taako’s teeth graze his neck. “What… they… it’s science.”

“Uh huh.” Taako replies. “Great point.”

“No more words, just kissing.” Kravitz tugs Taako closer again.

“Are you going to tell people this bit too?” Taako asks. 

“Ssssh.” Kravitz kisses Taako again. “Nothing about other people, just about us.”

“Just us.” Taako nods. “And how much fun we’re going to have at The Starblaster.”

Kravitz sighs.

“Hey Krav?” Taako noses at his cheek.

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad we figured it out.”

“Me too, Taako. Me too.” 

--

Thank you for reading! You can find the next day here.

[adancedivasmom]

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader (no physical description, however it is implied she hasn’t lost her baby weight)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older)

Content: Lactation kink, smut, frottage, mention of abandonment, body insecurity, pet names and name calling (slut is used once), Dave York is his own warning

Word Count: 2K

Summary: After a hectic morning and barely making it to work on time, you realize you forgot your breast pump at home. You haven’t nursed or pumped in 16 hours and worry you won’t make it through your important afternoon meeting. Luckily for you, a certain handsome DIA agent knows just what to do and offers his assistance.

(This takes place before the events in The Equalizer 2 and Dave is divorced in my au.)

A/N: A huge thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for posting this idea on Discord and for not minding that I took and ran with it (this is all their fault really). Thank you to @ozarkthedog and @firstofficerwiggles for reading this over for me, offering their kind words, and telling me to go for it and post this. Also, special thanks to my fellow Dave York Nasties for their encouragement. I love you guys!

This is the first fic I've ever written, and I'm nervous. Please be kind. 💝

REBLOGS WOULD BE LOVED AND APPRECIATED

No, no, no, no, no…

This can’t be happening.

For the fifth time, you look underneath your jacket in your office.

It’s not there.

Your breast pump bag is not there.

You think back to your crazy morning. Somehow you managed to turn the volume down on your phone alarm. You never heard it and slept in.

Your son, bless his heart, had just started sleeping through the night a couple of days ago.

After throwing on your blouse and favorite flowy skirt, hastily brushing your hair and teeth, you flew to your son’s room.

He was still sleeping as you rushed into his nursery to get him dressed for the day. He greeted you with the biggest smile, kicking his legs and reaching for you.

It was times like this that made the challenge of raising him on your own worth it. His father had skipped out on you a month ago after informing you he no longer felt attracted to you.

No, none of that, you told yourself. You did not have time for self-pity right now.

Once you finished changing your little bean’s diaper and dressing him, you tried to feed him, but he fussed and refused to latch on. 

Most likely, he could sense how stressed you were.

Not a problem, you told yourself. Your mom had extra bottles and an ample supply of your breast milk in her freezer. Everything would be okay.

After dropping your baby off at your mom’s house, you drove to work and made it there at 9 am.

You threw your jacket and purse on the extra chair in your office and barely had time to unlock your computer when the HR supervisor knocked on your door. 

“Brian called off. I’m going to need you to give the morning and afternoon presentations,” she briskly informed you and quickly walked away.

Great, just great, you grumbled to yourself. You had one hour to prepare for the staff meeting to review the new health care benefits package the DIA was changing to at the start of the new year.

You bolted for the conference room and managed to be ready in one hour when your coworkers started filing in.

The meeting went well, and you answered everyone’s questions and addressed their concerns efficiently and cheerfully.

Which was shocking because, at this point, your breasts were hurting, really hurting. It had been almost 16 hours since you last fed your son before you put him down for the night.

Thank goodness it was your lunch hour, and you could close your office door and get some much-needed relief pumping.

This brings you to the present, frantically looking all over your office for your breast pump that’s nowhere to be found.

Maybe you left it in your car?

You grabbed your keys and took off. Not watching where you were going, you bumped right into him.

Dave York.

Of all the people to run into, it had to be him. You’ve been secretly obsessing over him since your first day of work at the DIA.

He was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but notice his large hands, the way his dress shirts seemed to strain to cover his large shoulders. Goodness, he was deliciously broad. One day in the lunchroom, Dave had his sleeves rolled up and caught you staring at the veins in his forearms. He looked at you with piercing brown eyes and knowingly smirked at you, the bastard.

You offered a hasty, “I’m sorry, Mr. York!” and sprinted for the parking lot.

Unfortunately, today was not your day. Your breast pump bag was not in your car either.

You were practically in tears by the time you made it back to your office.

You struggled for a solution to your predicament. Maybe you could soak some paper towels in warm water to ease the pain. Women hand-expressed in the past before breast pumps were invented. Surely that would work, right?

It had to. There was no way you could give the afternoon presentation in your condition. You don’t remember your breasts ever being this sore and full before. You were amazed you hadn’t started leaking through your nursing bra and blouse.

Having that happen during your next session was out of the question. You would be humiliated.

A gentle knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts. 

It was Dave again.

“Are you alright?,” he asked with genuine concern.

“It’s nothing,” you replied. “I’m just having an awful day.”

Dave responded, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, not unless you have a breast pump in your office,” you answered with a little more attitude than you meant to.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed as he slowly walked towards you.

“You may be surprised to learn I know little about what you are going through right now. Your son’s about three months old now, isn’t he? He probably just started sleeping through the night. I remember when my ex-wife, Carol, was nursing. She was relieved when the girls started sleeping through the night, but not so much when her milk production didn’t slow down right away.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, how do you know this? How do you even know how old my son is? I’ve never even talked to you except to say hello in passing.”

“I notice everything about you,” he admitted as he touched your cheek.

“Let me offer you my… assistance,” Dave said as he held your gaze.

“There was something I always wanted to do with Carol,” he continued, “but she never wanted to try.”

“I think you’re different, though. I think you know what I can do to help ease your pain,” he whispered in your ear. “And you want it, don’t you?”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as arousal spread through your body. You clenched around nothing and fought to keep yourself from moaning.

Was this really happening?

“Shut your door and lock it,” Dave ordered darkly.

You never moved so fast in your life.

By the time you turned around, he had already moved your purse and jacket to your desk and was sitting on the extra chair in your office.

“Now be a good girl for me and let me take care of you,” Dave said as he held his hand out to you.

You walked to him and took his hand as your heart pounded in your chest.

“What do I...” you began.

“Sit on my lap,” he commanded softly.

Feeling self-conscious, you quickly argued, “But I’m too..”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say. You are beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Now, sit.”

You straddled him, your legs on the outside of his, facing him.

Eyes blown with lust, Dave stared at you like a man starved.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You worked in HR for goodness sake. It would be the end of your career if someone walked in on the two of you.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when Dave looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. You would do anything to please him at this point.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed. “Now unbutton your blouse.”

Powerless to resist, you undid your buttons and exposed yourself.

“Fuck,” he growled out. “I knew your tits would be spectacular.”

He slowly unclasped the right side of your nursing bra and glanced down.

You knew what he saw. Your breast was engorged and started to leak almost immediately.

Dave gently massaged you and gave your nipple an experimental lick, causing your milk to start squirting from your breast.

He quickly opened his mouth to catch the flow. You could hear your milk landing and pooling in his mouth.

Dave groaned and latched on. You could feel the familiar pull and sighed with long-awaited relief.

Dave continued to massage your breast while he gulped down your milk enthusiastically.

It took a tremendous effort to keep quiet. The reality of what was happening right now made you dizzy with desire. 

Once Dave felt he had taken enough from the right side, he stopped and turned his attention back to you.

“That ex-boyfriend of yours is an idiot if you don’t mind me saying,” he told you candidly.

“You are a goddess. If you were mine, I’d make sure you were told that daily.”

Before you could think of something clever to reply, Dave had already uncovered your left breast and latched on.

At this point, you were incredibly turned on. You could feel your arousal leaking through your panties, and you desperately wanted to rub your thighs together for relief.

Sensing your struggle, Dave grabbed your hips and pushed you down until your core rubbed against the now rather large bulge in his trousers.

Mortified, you heard yourself moan out loud.

Dave put his hand over your mouth and hushed you.

"I know, I know. That feels good, doesn't it," he taunted. "But you need to keep quiet otherwise your co-workers will discover what a filthy little slut you are."

“Now take what you need, gorgeous girl,” he instructed as he returned to your breast.

With his help, you started to rub your core over his clothed erection. Need coursed through your body, and you lost yourself to your pleasure.

With every second, you become acutely aware of how much of your slick was dripping from your cunt, soaking through your panties and making a total mess of his lap.

Dave did not care in the least and only encouraged you.

“That’s my good girl. Just like that,” he moaned and quickly resumed gulping your milk like a man dying of thirst.

Faster and faster, you moved against him, whimpering while you felt your crest quickly build.

Dave released your nipple with a pop.

He held your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice dark as sin. “Be a good girl and come for me...now.”

That was all it took to push you over the edge. You came with a silent scream. Not taking any chances, Dave kissed you to make sure he would swallow any of your noises that might escape.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.

When you slowly came down from your high, you opened your eyes to see Dave gazing at you fondly.

“You look so beautiful right now,” Dave said reverently. “You did such a good job for me.”

You shyly replied, “Thank you, Mr. York,” and tried to look away.

Dave was having none of that.

“Don’t look away,” he said, forcing you to meet his eyes again. “We’re both consenting adults. You needed help, and I was happy to offer my assistance.”

Before you could respond, Dave reminded you of the time and your upcoming afternoon meeting.

You slowly and reluctantly removed yourself from Dave’s lap and tried to look presentable again. You smoothed out your skirt, closed up your nursing bra, and started to button up your blouse.

Anxiety crept into your mind. Did anyone hear what the both of you were doing?

Dave quickly took over buttoning your blouse.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. No one heard a thing,” he promised sincerely.

You met his eyes and knew he would never lie to you.

“Next time, you’ll have to come to my office," he offered. "I have a couch in there. You’ll be much more comfortable sitting on my cock while I drink from your gorgeous tits.”

You must have had a shocked expression on your face because you heard Dave chuckle softly.

"Does that sound good to you?" he teased.

You shook your head yes immediately.

You didn't know what you had gotten yourself into with Dave York, but you were excited to see where this was going.

You left him in your office to sort himself out. Thinking about his promise of a "next time," you walked to the conference room smiling softly.

[scented--whispers]

Supreme Vanilla Eau De Parfum: Dark Academia Perfection

Imagine being in the most beautiful old library reading a book that smells of paper and ink, the place is full of wooden tables and bookcases and you have fresh vanilla biscuits with you. This is how this perfume smells.

Zara perfumes are so good and even better if we consider how affordable they are and this one is by far my favorite. It doesn't have an olfactory pyramid, the notes are linear, something that makes every note have pretty much the same intensity throughout its run.

Notes: Tonka beans, cedarwood, Madagascar vanilla, and pink sugar with inky notes.

As the name suggests, it is a vanilla perfume at its core and is the main note, everything else is to add more character to it. The second most prominent note is by far the ink. In a lot of reviews, I have seen people describe the smell as "wet ashtray" and even though I understand where this is coming from I do not agree exactly. Yes, there is something that resembles an ashtray, but in a good way? I don't know how to explain it, but the smell is almost comforting. The ink smells exactly like an ink pad my grandfather had and along with the velvety almost tobacco-like/almondy smell of the tonka beans gives a kick that personally I find soooo good. It is a mysterious, sophisticated, and dark vanilla and I love an interesting vanilla. The cedarwood and the sugar are supporting roles here, I cannot identify that is cedar I smell but with time there is an aromatic woodiness that lingers on my skin and the sugar adds sweetness all around, which this perfume needs imo.

It is a juggernaut as far as longevity goes and even more as sillage goes. This thing smells A LOT, and for days on my clothes, but it isn't clogging at all. To explain how impressed I am with it, I was wearing it in a bar I go to quite often and the place is very small, more often than not extremely crowded, and people can smoke inside, and I still got questions on what perfume I wear because those around me could smell it, something that is not a thing in that place.

Something that I also didn't expect (bc the reviews I had read were a mixed bag) is how much of a people's pleaser it is, especially men. Every time I wear it I get questions on what I wear, bc they like it yes, but also bc they want to get it, so at least the people around me find it as unisex as they come, something that I also agree with. I can see everyone wearing it and even all day, just not in summer. I haven't tried it on very warm/hot days yet, but the vibe doesn't give summer at all.

[wawa-cupcakes]

Tim Drake starts a revolution. On accident. Part 1:

When he thinks about it the press, nor any of Gotham, or likely even much of the Justice league, had never seen Tim Drake without a coffee in his hand. So maybe this whole thing had been a long time in coming? The look of exasperation on Bruce’s face tells him no. But Jason cackling on the floor tells him yes. So who’s to say really.

It happens randomly one day. Tim is just leaving WE ready to get back to the Batcave so he can synthesize the half baked formula he thought up during the board meeting this morning for The Jokers new toxin. He made himself an especially large coffee with the Kureg Steph bought him for his office.

At the door he’s met with reporters, all asking about WE’s latest foray into buying housing their employees. And amongst all the questions being hurled at him he picks out the one about Coffee. I mean it’s only natural to have a fine tuned sense about these things when someone relies on coffee like it’s their actual blood. (And frankly it might be at this point Tim isn’t sure)

“What brand of coffee are you drinking?” - The question that will unknowingly rocket all of Gotham into chaos for the next few weeks.

“Bustelo. I’m drinking bustelo. Black like my soul.” Tim throws over his shoulder as he slips into the car. And then he forgets about the whole thing because he’s got approximately 20 minutes and 48 seconds to sleep on the car ride home and he’s not gonna waste a second of it.

He does even find out about it until three days later when he opens the cabinet to find oh - Alfred hasn’t replaced the grounds yet. He just grabs a different bag, he deserves some freshly ground beans after the night he had anyway, and set to work on making some coffee.

When he sees Alfred a few minutes later he asks him to pick some more up the next time he’s at the grocery store. “Actually, Master Tim. They were out. I went yesterday. ”

Tim pauses what he’s doing. “What?”

“It seems your recommendation to the press the other day has been taken to heart. All the stores in Gotham are sold out.”

“WHAT!?”

Upon further research apparently Tim’s sort of accidental recommendation had sky elected sales overnight. The company’s stock was up, and apparently they’d already made a statement about increasing production. The inbox for Tim’s work email, the one he never checked, was flooded with emails from various coffee brands reaching out to attempt to get a sponsorship. Offering to send free samples, and some even life time supplies (Which actually didn’t sound half bad) for him to review.

So Tim does what any sane person would do. He takes the power he’s been given an warps it to fit his needs.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Mirror Image [Chapter One] Hands of Time [Sesshomaru]

A/n: Updates on this story will probably be extremely slow. I apologize for that. And tags will be added as the story progresses.

Aspects of this story came from 'The Secret of the Cursed Mask'. It was one of my favorite InuYasha games. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): Japanese mythology and folklore, reincarnation, deities, demons, curses, self-worth, supernatural elements, isekai.

No Minors Allowed!!

Spring in Kyoto was nigh, yet the early February air was dry and chilly. Aono disliked this type of weather. Or rather her skin did. It was the reason she carried lip balm and moisturizer in her tote bag, along with her textbooks. Despite the temperature, and her desire to hide in her room until March, she had much to do. 

As a private tutor, her schedule was booked. Midterms were in 3 months and some of her students were eager to start reviewing the material. Aono honestly did not mind. She had 2 months until she enrolled in the university and the extra Yen she was earning would help her considerably. 

So far, her temporary job was going rather well. She had two clients scheduled for today, and both completed their lessons early. Aono was currently on her way home. She wanted to rest before dark when Setsubun began, a bean-throwing festival meant to drive away evil spirits. This event meant a lot to her grandparents and so she did her best to assist them. 

Aono tightened her green wool coat around herself as a bitter wind tossed her long hair, opting to make a stop for a cup of green tea. Entering Amano Coffee, she recognized her friend behind the cashier's desk and waved to her. Yua waved back heartily and smiled.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked. 

Aono smiled back and approached the counter. 

"I came for a cup of warm green tea."

Yua faked a pout. 

"I thought this was merely a social visit. I see how it is."

"You can work and talk at the same time," Aono retorted.

She was right. Yua snorted and prepared the tea maker.

"Are you excited for the festival?"

Aono sighed. She was in a sense, but she was far too busy to attend.

"I can't go, unfortunately," she answered. "Jiichan (grandpa) was asked to bless Kyōzō Shrine and he wants me to assist him."

"He's really pushing the shrine maiden thing, isn't he?" Yua asked, giving her a sympathetic look before she returned to the task at hand. 

He was.

"Okaachan (mom) was a Miko before she married my father. He wants me to follow in her footsteps," Aono remarked.

Eimi became a shrine maiden when she was nineteen, but Aono did not want to work at a shrine. She wanted to make something of herself, but honestly, she had no idea what she wanted to do.

I still have time to decide before the spring semester starts.

"It's your move. If you want to be a Miko, that's fine, but if you don't, you should speak up," Yua stated. 

She snapped a lid on top of the paperboard cup and sat it on the counter. 

"Besides, even if you become a Miko, I'll still be your best friend. But don't ask me to come visit you at one of those old creepy shrines."

Aono snorted. 

"Of course."

Yua really was a great friend. 

Reaching into her short black hair, she unfastened a heart-shaped pin from her bangs and offered it to Aono; the latter raised a curious brow.

"Your hair's a mess. You look like a Ushirogami," Yua teased. 

Aono took the pin from her and stuck out her tongue. The wind outside was bitter and feral. It wasn't her fault her hair was in her face. But she was no less thankful to Yua.

–

Around dusk, as Setsubun began, Aono dressed in a sweater, jeans, and her wool coat. She clipped her hair back on one side with the pin Yua gave her, then grabbed her tote bag and walked downstairs. Her grandparents waited for her in the kitchen.

Kurisu Kamiyama eyed her through her oval-shaped glasses for a moment, then returned to adjusting the white linen jōe her husband wore.

"Are you ready to visit the shrine?” She asked Aono. 

"I suppose,” the latter retorted. 

Kurisu narrowed her eyes and glanced at her husband, who sighed.

"I know this is not something you like, Aono, but Eimi and Isao wanted this for you,” Seiji stated. "We are just following your parents' wishes.”

If only I were old enough to remember them. 

Both died in a car crash when Aono was a baby. She had nothing but pictures to remember them by; parents she did not even know. 

Even so, she doubted that they would force their wishes upon her. This was what her grandparents wanted for her.

"I understand,” Aono uttered. "It's just…taking some time for me to come to terms with.” 

It meant working at a shrine and undergoing a comprehensive training program that she was not sure she was ready for. Aono could not express her worries to her grandparents; they were unreasonable.

Seiji guffawed.

"Eimi was scared too at first, but I took her to Kyōzō Shrine when she was your age, and after talking to the Kannushi, she wanted to be a Miko. All things worked out fine.” 

Aono wasn't so sure. 

When her grandfather was dressed, he put on his peaked cap and gathered his haraegushi, a ceremonial wand with paper streamers, and then led her from the house outside. The strong sweet odor of roasted sardines and holly sprigs flooded the air as Aono passed the gate, a sign that her grandmother had decorated it with them to scare away Oni.

She walked silently with her grandfather up the hillside beside their home to the top where an old curve-roofed shrine sat. Two vermilion Torii gates stood before them, beckoning for them to enter, and on either side stood three smaller buildings. Two were houses for the shrine maidens and the Kannushi, and the other was a store room. 

In the eighteen years that she lived with her grandparents, she had only been to the shrine twice. She knew the Kannushi, Mr. Kenshiro because her grandfather and he were close friends, but she never knew much about the shrine.

"Jiichan. What sort of shrine is this?” Aono asked.

"It was built during the Nanbokucho era, dedicated to a deity who was said to protect her followers from evil spirits and demons. However, it was revealed that the source of the demons came from her. The shrine was later abandoned during the early Sengoku era and the deity was long forgotten,” Seiji explained. 

Aono widened her eyes. 

"She was a demon?”

"Some believe that, but the people who worshiped her believed that she was born from a God, which made her a deity. So long as the village prayed to her, she did not harm them,” Seiji answered. "It is the reason our family continues to bless this shrine. Some fear that if the blessings stop the Goddess of Protection will return and bring with her misfortune.”

How frightening. 

Aono understood how important this was to her grandparents. The hillside in which they lived has been in their family for generations. Perhaps even her ancestors were worshippers of the deity.

At the purification fountain near the shrine’s entrance, Seiji took one of the ladles provided and rinsed his hands.

 

"I want you to remain outside as I go into the inner shrine. Once I am done, I will take you to see Kenshiro,” Seiji ordered. 

Aono nodded in understanding. 

Her grandfather then rinsed his mouth and spit the water beside the fountain. Once he was done, he led Aono up the stairs to the entrance. 

"Behave,” he ordered, before he walked into the shrine. 

She nearly snorted. What sort of trouble could she even get into? Aono took an uneasy breath and turned her back to the entrance. Her breath came out in puffs as she breathed, ignoring the chilly bite of the night air. It was odd, but the shrine almost felt abandoned. 

Where were Mr. Kenshiro and the shrine maidens? 

Aono shivered in fear. The story her grandfather told her was messing with her head a bit. 

Walking away from the shrine, she noticed a weathered statue of a woman at the base of the stairs. Her face was gone, faded by the elements, but she was dressed like a deity.

Aono bent down to examine it a bit more, but a noise caught her attention. She looked up to see a dark-haired woman dressed in a green kimono standing near the storehouse. She held a paper lantern in her hand that emanated a soft glow. Fear took hold of Aono, but she quickly overcame it, telling herself that the woman was most likely one of the shrine maidens.

"You scared me,” she mentioned. 

"I am sorry,” the woman stated. "I was just retrieving something from the storeroom. Would you mind helping me?”

Aono was hesitant. She felt a bit suspicious of the woman, but she pushed aside her worries and nodded. What harm could come from it?

 

"You know, I was beginning to think no one was here.”

The woman laughed.

"We are always here.” 

"Sure,” Aono uttered. 

She was a bit weirded out by her.

The woman opened the storeroom door and walked inside. The only source of light came from her lantern, so Aono had to hurry to catch up with her before she was left alone in the dark. 

Selves of items sat against the walls as they wandered further into the room. At the back wall, on a table, the woman turned and pointed with a slim finger to something. It appeared to be a small box with an amulet attached to it. 

"That is it. Can you pick it up for me?”

Aono raised a curious brow.

"Am I allowed? I mean…it seems sacred. I don't think I should–”

"Pick it up,” the woman ordered. 

What was up with her? 

Aono narrowed her eyes and grabbed the box off the table but as soon as she did, a burning sensation engulfed her face, and she dropped it onto the floor. Crying out in pain, she placed her hands against her heated skin, but no sooner had it started, than it stopped.

What just happened? 

Aono peeked out from between her fingers and to her horror, the amulet tied around the box had come done. The woman grinned eerily and leaned down to pick it up, taking off the top. Inside was the distal phalanx of a finger bone. There was something seriously off about this situation. 

Taking a step back, the teen gasped as the dark-haired woman reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Even though she was wearing a long-sleeved sweater and a wool coat, she could feel an icy chill creep up her skin.

"Let me go,” Aono ordered sternly, attempting to pull her arm back.  

She did not think the woman would do it. 

With her arm free, Aono stumbled back. She caught her balance and sneered at the woman. But to her horror, the lantern she was holding began to shake. A cut formed in the middle, running horizontally, and when it parted, a long and grotesque tongue protruded from it. Then a single bloodshot eye opened above the mouth, turning to her. 

Aono gasped. She turned to run, but the tongue shot out and wrapped around her leg, knocking her off balance and to the floor. Turning onto her back, she leaned up on her elbows and watched the woman turn and dislocate the bones in her arms with a sickening crack, turning them around her back like a contortionist. 

She sank to the floor and crawled up Aono’s body, pushing her back onto the floor. The hair around her head began to rise, revealing an open mouth that contained sharp needle-like teeth on the back of her head. 

Aono attempted to push the woman off her, but the hair took hold of her arms and shoved them onto the floor on either side of her head. A thick lock coiled around her neck like a snake and tightened, making Aono gasp for air.

This thing was going to choke her to death.

Struggling, Aono watched through teary eyes as the woman removed the distal phalanx from the box and lifted it to her mouth.

"Swallow it,” the woman ordered. 

Was she insane? 

Aono tightened her jaw in protest. But the mouth on the back of the woman’s head opened up and screeched obscenely, making Aono cry out in tremendous pain. The two-mouthed woman took the chance to slither locks into her mouth and shove the finger bone down her throat. 

Choking on the foreign object, Aono felt the woman release her and back away. She wasted no time and sat, trying to remove the finger from her mouth, but it was far too late. An intense pain overtook her, and she collapsed to the floor, writhing. It felt like every nerve in her body was on fire.  

Something was not right.

"Jii…chan,” she managed to cry.

It was too much. Darkness took hold of her and she fell unconscious as the hands of time turned in reverse.  

[maddiethecanadianassassin]

Jokes! Jokes! Jokes!

A Jacob Frye Drabble - dedicated to @ramshackledtrickster and inspired by their animation!

Tags: Implied relationship, features OC, dancing, party, at a pub, drinking.

Warnings: PG - no major earnings except for decapitating a stuffed dummy

//////

The pub was lively that late afternoon as Jacob Frye and his merry band of Rooks threw a little get together. The company was lovely, the food and drink refreshing, and the entertainment was a laugh. Literally.

One of the Rooks, a natural pianist was going at it on the instrument, his fingers seemed to dance on the keys. His buddies clapped and cheered him on as they each toasted their mugs, drinking and singing along to his tune.

Speaking of performance...

Madeline Shrike sat with the Rooks, a drink in hand as she glanced over to see Jacob practically waltz over to an open area of the pub floor. His Rooks applauded his arrival, hooting, hollering, even some banging their fists on the tables. Madeline reached for her glass, saving it so it wouldn't topple over from all the excitement.

It had been a few months now since Madeline had first joined Jacob Frye and his band of Rooks after first moving to London for a fresh start, a new life outside of the comforts of her family home in Scotland. She had never been on more fulfilling adventures in her life before setting foot in this city, and her heart swelled with pride over the good she had helped take part in to protect the city from the Blighters, especially protecting the young, innocent and unfortunately poor orphaned children forced into horrendous child labor.

She looked at Jacob, seeing his smile, the playful gleam in his eyes. After his last few missions the past couple of weeks, he needed tonight. A well deserved rest and respite. Well. . . maybe minus the rest for now. Definite respite.

Madeline glanced over to see Jacob dragging along a bean bag dummy. He effortlessly lifted it up, its arms flailing in the air as he made it bow in greeting and the Rooks laughed, followed by a cheer. Where Jacob found it, either in a trunk somewhere at her Theatre or buried somewhere in his train hideout, Madeline didn't know.

But if there was a stage prop missing when she'd go into work the next morning, she'd know who to speak to.

Madeline pressed her elbow onto the table, holding her head up with her hand as she rolled her eyes in a teasing manner at the gang leader. Jacob caught the glimmer in her eye, his own eyes dazzling to match his mischievous grin.

He cleared his throat, getting into position.

"The curtain rose, the scene was set They danced a murderous duet~"

His voice projected across the bar as he stepped up onto his stage, twirling around with the dummy before leading it into what looked like a waltz.

"And much deserving blood was let Up to!"

He dipped the dummy down as if he were seducing a woman with his moves before shooting back up right, his eyes going wide as he made a motion with his finger, slicing across his throat.

He tossed the dummy up before grabbing it by the back of its neck, showing it off to his audience.

"The scene wherein they disagreed On who should live and who should bleed?"

Jacob poked at the dummy with an accusing glare before pointing himself before tossing the dummy again, grabbing it by its shoulder and held it in front of his body to shield himself. His fingers wiggled in anticipation before activating his hidden blade, with a flick of his wrist, he sliced the head of the dummy clean off, stuffing falling everywhere on the floor.

That dashingly mischievous grin returned.

"And Maxwell Roth he then received A very bad review~"

The Rooks cheered at the performance, whistling and hollering. Madeline couldn't help it herself as she clapped along with them. Jacob glanced over towards her, taking his top hat in his hand and offering her a performative bow at the waist as the Rooks continued seeing the chorus. Madeline offered him a glimmering smile as she bowed her head in kind.

Jacob approached Madeline's table where Jacob's drink lay waiting for him. He gave her a smile as he reached for his mug and downed another gulp of his drinks. How he was able to drink this stuff like guzzling water, Madeline hadn't had the foggiest.

"You seem quiet," Jacob spoke up, leaning forward slightly to make sure his voice could be heard over the crowd.

"Just tired after a long day is all," Madeline shook her head before giving Jacob a reassuring expression. "I'm alright, Jacob, I'm content sitting on the sidelines and watching you and the Rooks celebrate. You've all earned it. Especially you,"

"Kind words, Miss Shrike," Jacob smiled as he crossed his arms over the table. "I'll admit I was a little nervous. Here I was thinking you'd be a more stern judge of my performance,"

My eyes glanced over to the now decapitated dummy, seeing a group of Rooks playing around with it. They looked like they were playing hot potato with it.

"You played your part flawlessly, Sir Frye," I grinned back at him.

Jacob rolled his eyes at the young woman, though there wasn't any sign of actual hurt in his eyes. "How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

"It's a title! Why not use it?" She asked him honestly.

If I had been given the title of Dame by the Queen herself, I'd be absolutely beside myself. Madeline thought to herself.

"As my sweat sister has once said, there is a time and place for everything. I'm simply waiting for the right moment," Jacob chuckled softly before taking another sip of his drink.

"And what moment would that be?" Madeline asked curiously.

Jacob looked towards Madeline with an equally curious gaze, his lips twitching into a playful smirk as he pushed himself off from the table. "How about this?"

He walked around to her side, offering her another bow, more. . . posed actually, even for Jacob, "Madeline Shrike," He straightened, offering the Magician his hand. "How would you like to dance with a Sir tonight?"

Madeline's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink at Jacob's playful delivery. She smiled up at him as her petite hands glazed over his black gloved hand. "I'm not much of a dancer, but. . . just this once, Jacob Frye,"

"Just this once," Jacob repeated, nodding his head in agreement.

Jacob gently brought Madeline along to the open floor of the pub, his other arm around her waist. As the Rooks cheered and continued to sing the song, the pair started their dance.

"Jokes, Jokes, Jokes! Make ‘em laugh until they choke~"

Madeline followed Jacob's steps, his movements lively with the music as they danced and laughed together. Madeline couldn't remember laughing this much. She yelped suddenly when Jacob twirled out of his hold before spinning her back into his embrace, sidestepping as part of his chest pressed into Madeline's back.

He had a big grin on his face as he started singing along with the Rooks.

"Fairly slay ‘em in the aisles Maidens fair and Princes charming~"

Her cheeks darkened as Madeline gawked at the man, his mere teasing. Madeline rolled her eyes as Jacob gently spun her back around to face him, his arm finding its way back looping around her waist as they continued their merry dance.

Jacob had always been a tease. A mischievous, playful, devilish tease. But he was also brave, cunning. A man that Madeline was proud to work with and fight alongside to protect London from the Blighters. A great leader, and a good friend.

Although if she was being honest with herself. . .

"Thrills, Thrills, Thrills! Dashing feats and bloody spills And I guarantee You’ll never see The ending coming!"

Madeline miss-stepped and found herself falling back. She shut her eyes, anticipating hitting the harsh floor below. The music stopped, there was chatter among the Rooks, cooling down from the song as she opened her eyes slowly and found Jacob staring back, his face ever so close to her own. He had caught her before Madeline could hit the floor.

Perhaps. . . there was something more?

Jacob slowly pulled her back up right, his free hand moving away from cradling the back of her head. His other arm stayed at her waist as he spoke, "Shall I escort you home, Miss Shrike?"

[bisphenol-a]

San Francisco closed the lid Sunday on the saga of a $1.7 million public restroom. To commemorate the commode’s installation, residents celebrated at a “potty party” they called the Toilet Bowl.

Lookie-loos lined up in the Noe Valley Town Square to give the loo a whirl. A band played songs including “Sloop John B” by the Beach Boys. (“This is a song about a john!” the band leader explained.) Children sipped lemonade and ate chocolate cupcakes while they tossed bean bags into plastic training potties on the ground.

San Francisco may have been a laughingstock over the news that it planned to spend $1.7 million to construct a single public restroom with a sink and toilet, getting skewered by late-night comedians and inspiring the “it” costume at Halloween parties.

But on Sunday, the city got the last laugh.

“We wanted to, you know, really roll with it,” said Zach D’Angelo, dressed as a giant roll of toilet paper with a red plunger as his hat. D’Angelo, the host of Tuesday night trivia at a pub down the street, served as the Toilet Bowl’s emcee — or, as he put it, the Grand Poobah.

“I am flush with excitement!” he exclaimed before he started telling toilet jokes that he said he had gotten from his 7-year-old nephew.

The mood wasn’t quite so lighthearted in October 2022 when city officials announced a news conference in the Noe Valley Town Square to celebrate securing $1.7 million in state funds to build the 150-square-foot restroom — enough money to buy a whole single-family house in the city.

The square was built in 2016 with outdoor seating, a playground and plumbing for a public toilet, but no actual toilet, because money for the project had fallen short.

Just as puzzling as the price tag was the timeline. The city said it would take two to three years to install the restroom, even after it secured the state funds.

Neighbors and a local journalist (well, me) began to question the details of the project. City officials explained the toilet would have to be approved by numerous city commissions. It would also be subject to environmental review. All that, plus the high cost of construction in the city, made the project expensive and time-consuming.

Politicians began distancing themselves from the bathroom brouhaha. Gov. Gavin Newsom took back the state money.

Then, Chad Kaufman, president of the Public Restroom Company, offered to donate a modular toilet instead. He and Vaughan Buckley, the chief executive of Volumetric Building Companies, paid for architecture and engineering work to get the site ready. They also paid for a truck to carry the modular toilet to the square, a crane to lift it into place and union labor to install it.

The tab for the city dropped to $200,000, and Mayor London Breed announced legislation that she said would help bring down the cost of other public projects. It would let city departments team up to get group discounts on goods and services for small jobs. The state gave the $1.7 million back to San Francisco again, and the city says it will be used to build more toilets.

In the end, the new red restroom in the Noe Valley Town Square was worthy of celebration. On Sunday, a woman doled out toilet trivia. Local librarians handed out free copies of children’s books entitled “Everyone Poops” and “Time to Use the Potty.” There was a toilet-themed costume contest with whoopee cushions as prizes.

Three San Francisco politicians — Supervisor Rafael Mandelman, State Senator Scott Wiener and Assemblyman Matt Haney — addressed the crowd. Haney posed for a photo in front of the bathroom.

“It’s not gold-plated, but it’s worth its weight in gold,” he said with a laugh.

Debra Niemann, director of the Noe Valley Association, a neighborhood improvement group, said she didn’t think the toilet travails had done much to make city projects, including public restrooms, any cheaper to build.

“But at least we got one,” she said. “It’s beautiful. It’s clean. It’s simple. It’s everything you could want in a public toilet.”

[reds-ultrakill-brainrot]

Hello, it's me again. Thanks for seeing my request for "v1, v2 x reader gone from hell". I would like to see modern au and all the characters together, this is my original idea. Thanks for your work =)

Hell Wasn't Full

modern au headcanons (included characters; V1, V2) x reader content (read platonic or romantic)

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V1 - i honestly don't think V1 would get a job, they are't particularly social nor have any motivation to get one out of personal achievement - they are a decent roomate, V1 will help maintain the place and keep to their room most of the time that they are home, but dear god don't ask them to do the dishes, its not that they are incapable of it, they just tend to hand the dishes too... firmly (that or invest in plastic plates and cutlery) - is almost always out of the house, they tend to wander the streets and perform a little unauthorized artwork on buildings. they will be happy to have you tag along, as long as you can keep up when they run from the police - V1's room is a tad unorthadox, mainly because it lacks a bed, most of the room is full of decorations, a desk is nestled in the corner along with a bean bag in the middle of the room. the previously mentioned decorations are half self created, otherwise they are illegally aquired, most often street signs - their favourite activity to do together is to visit the local cat cafe, while they can't eat they do love spending time with the animals. it gets to the point that the workers recognise them by name, they greatly appreciate the amount of money that they spend in the store, as it turns out when V1 has access to money they will just tip $200 - is very interested in art and frequents museums and art galleries, its to the point they start to get noticed in said places. they don't tend to interact with anyone, mainly due to the fact others struggle to understand them. if you offer to join them you will be roped into speaking with the artists and museum curators - will take a vested interest in your day to day life, and if you have a job V1 is very happy to walk you to and from work, you will find yourself much safer for it, not many people will bother you with V1 making agressive eye contact with anyone who comes near you - enjoys learning how things work and mastering them, and once you introduced them to the concept of laundry you made an absolute cleaning monster, they have it down to an art at this point, and have internal timers set to arrrive at the washing machine just as it ends. you aren't burdening them with the task either, they derive genuine enjoyment out of speedrunning laundry - likes to randomly leave you gifts from time to time, both of their own creation and ones they aquired (legality pending) elsewhere. they very quickly pick up on your interests and favourite things, it does tend to help that they can review footage from previous conversations - is happy to meet your friends, V1 cares about what you care about, and if you value someone enough to let them into your life then V1 trusts your judgement. its unlikely that they will keep in contact with them unprompted, but they still make an effort to be polite (polite being V1 doesn't ignore them) - V1 has a small wardrobe of clothing that they have somewhat crudely altered to fit themselves, they have an interesting idea of fashion but its always fun to see what outfit they've concocted to wear for the day

V2 - an evil part of my brain wants to suggest that V2 gets a retail job to rub it in V1's face that they have a job, only to find near instantly that they fucking hate retail, but that idea would require them being hired in the first place which honestly no sane person ever would - to say their room is unorthadox is an understatement, it is one large metal table spanning most of the centre of the room surrounded by shelves stocked with all parts imaginable. the only object one could imagine sleeping on is their wheelie chair, though that would be on the off chance they aren't inhabiting it - V2 doesn't have many hobbies, what they do with so many hours in the day you ask? scheme about different ways to ruin V1's day. yes they quite literally sit in their dim room like a cartoonish villain and come up with ways to annoy V1. often times these ideas are more minor inconveniences but they gain such genuine joy out of doing it V1 has decided to just deal with it - if you intend on making V2 a good roomate, it will take a lot of time and interventions. V2's appreciation of you is most likely the only reason they listen to you when you firmly tell them to stop pouring glitter in the detergent. - is extremely interested in inserting themself into as much of your daily routine as possible, unlike V1 they do not appreciate doing chores but they like spending time with you, and by joining in chores they have plausible deniability as to why they spend most of their time with you (it is extremely obvious, they just refuse to acknowledge their endearment to you)- on the off chance they aren't plotting V1's "demise" they like to tinker with electrical devices and finding ways to automate things. they seem to have an innate sense of when something is broken and will very quickly appear and work their magic. watching them work is quite fascinating and will definately boost their ego - greatly appreciates quality time, simply letting them be near you while you work or participate in your hobbies is the ultimate form of bonding for V2. if you offer to help them with their mechanical work they might, might even thank you for it - speaking of mechanical work they are very well versed in almost all things related to mechanics, metalwork and electrical work. if you have a car you will find they have a vested interest in its maintinence and performance. at your request they will stray from illegal car mods but they will definately think about it - will meet your friends with only a relatively small amount of reluctance (relative to their normal opinion on interacting with people). in reality V2 is just concerned you are going to find someone to replace them, but they will never explicitely let you know that lest their ego simply disintigrate - V2 didn't originally care for wearing clothing, but once they figured out they could wear matching clothing with you they suddenly decide they like to wear clothing. not much of it mind you, they only tend to wear shirts or jackets but they will colour/pattern match you as often as possible Dual Headcanons - there is an ongoing game of tag involving the knuckleblaster, it trades owners very frequently and is progressively being stolen in more elaborate ways. V1's attempts at aquiring this tend to be more covert than V2's, who tends to launch themself at V1 from unseen location and attemps to rip the arm right off - as much as the two have a (mainly one sided) rivalry with eachother they are strangely familial. said brotherly affection appears differently in each robot, V1 tends to help V2 without their knowing, always making sure they have whatever parts they need for their new projects. V2 tends to be protective of V1, moreso in the way that they are the only one allowed to annoy V1. - if you intent to take the both of them out to spend time together expect V2 to become even more intent on stealing your attention away. prepare for childish antics afoot

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thanks for clarifying, i honestly enjoyed writing both. this post feels smaller than i would want it to so i might add more later. stay tuned for that romantic minos headcanon post, it's coming i swear!

[adultswim2021]

Xavier: Renegade Angel #19: “Damnesia You” | April 10, 2009 - 12:15AM | S02E09

This was just so great, man. I loved this so much. I don’t even want to review this all that much. Fuck it! I won’t! There have been a bunch of special episodes lately. The Racist one! The one-long-sketch one! This one! This one starts off like Damnesia Vu, with Xavier in the room with all them colored doors. He’s in some kind of mind-palace, if you’ll recall. In this one the doors lead to different viewer-submitted home-made versions of Xavier: Renegade Angel. Some of them are animated (both traditionally and not), and some of them are live-action, and some of them are a mix of both. 

A lot of the people and voices and styles seem vaguely familiar, at least to me. David Dineen-Porter is a guy I’ve seen perform comedy, and he is way brilliant. I read something on Reddit saying one of the guy’s is shmorky. I don’t actually know who shmorky is except for the fact that people say his name while grimacing and lowering their head in prayer. I googled it: it turns out he was involved in a “no bueno” situation. AHHH!!!

The episode takes the fan submissions and lets them play, sometimes. Sometimes the editors remix the entities a bit, which is nice of them.

Rather than talk about the content of the episode I am just gonna say this: I got high as fuck before watching it because it’s snowing outside, and that’s a good reason to use marijuana at 3PM. It probably helped me watch this three times, which I did. I watched it twice on the Adult Swim app, but the second time I pressed play was a mistake, and I just let it roll. “Roll that beautiful bean footage” I should have said.

The third time I watched it on DVD because I couldn’t identify the screengrab from shmorky’s cartoon, which I wanted to identify out of morbid curiosity, and the Adult Swim Roku app sucks for if you want to pause the episode. It sucks if you want to watch the last ten seconds of the episode without the screen dimming and being covered up by a big thumbnail of the next show in the autoplay, even if the credits are rolling over the final moments of the story. It fucking blows. 

I broke out the DVD just so I could pause it properly and read the names of the entries. I made a list of all of them here, because I don’t think there’s a list of them online anywhere, and that seems valuable, maybe.

The only other guy I actually remember here is David Dineen-Porter, who I’ve seen perform comedy and thought was brilliant. His IMDB shows that he wrote on the James Corden show. I hope he made an obscene amount of money and is currently buying lots of guns with it (I mean this nicely). 

Also, I found a link to every entry on it’s own. 

Grant “Manfred” Duffrin - Xavier Lends a Helping Hand Eric “Emotikkkon” Binmoeller - Meerkats David Dineen-[“] Porter: Self the Eye the Sees The Cream Within Shelby A. Hohl - As Above So Below Andrew De“hole”Young - Prism Jay Z. Yum David “He” Health - Gazzavier Renegade Angel Goes Up A Mountain Chiyoung “2:29” Lee DDS - Catch They Neighbor Robert “t S”mith - Omnippletence/The Phone Call Colyn “Bynumb” Emery - Art What Art Thou Dave “Da Grave Slave” Kelly - Xavier Looks Behind His Eye Amy “Peanut butter” Warner - Dog Eats Ketchup (couldn't find) John “Bobby ‘the ‘der’ Sanch’ Sanchez” Santos - Sueo Mojado Jason Dorris - Portly “n’ Jelly” Porthole Bo “Bikey” Thrice - Superhole Shuffle

Also: Those CLOSING CREDITS! A friend of mine told me to look out for them, and I said "okay".

MAIL BAG:

the cinco brothers are electric. they should bring them back and let them tell more stories about their lives.

The Sinko Brothers are in jail for nasty crimes and I hope they stay there. This thought is crude. Shame on you