#dave scoville
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Yall have NO idea how much these two make me sick UGH I LOVE THEM....
Got into a show called 'Titus" recently and oh my GODDDD these two... you guys have no idea.. Dave and Tommy...
#titus#Titus show#Titus 2000#Dave Scoville#Dave Titus#Tommy Shafter#zack ward#2000s#2000s series#2000s shows#postal#postal dude#postal movie#gay people#theyre both idiots#closeted bi men my favorite#my pookies#Tommy and Dave are such boyfriends#not even kidding#new hyperfixation#hyperfixation#tv shows#autism#bisexual#lgbtq
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Grrl Power is a webcomic by Dave Barrack about a superheroine who works in a comic shop.
okay
Write Who You Know: Main character Sidney Scoville suffers from ADHD — like, absolutely not coincidentally, the author Dave Barrack.
interesting
At least, most supers are ridiculously photogenic. In a world where the average superhero is over six foot, has zero percent body fat, and the ladies have D-cup chests, Sydney is short, flat-chested, and angry about it. She's also sarcastic, caustic, a huge nerd, and is bonded to seven floating orbs that give her superpowers. [...]
🤔
I suspect if I was a woman I would have a decent size collection of cool boots. Every time I google women’s boots for Maxima reference, there are a ton of cool and/or sexy results. 90% of which Maxima would never wear, but they make me regret not being a transvestite. Okay, not really. Is it weird that I think about my “if I was a girl” wardrobe? It just occurred to me one day how different most of my life would be if that 50/50 coin flip that determines our sex came up the other way. Not the broad strokes, of course. Me being a boy or girl wouldn’t affect where my dad moved our family due to his job, or what schools I went to – at least not through high school. But would I have been into sci-fi and fantasy movies, video games and comic books and D&D if I’d been a girl? It’s not impossible, certainly, and I might have appreciated the physique of my He-Man action figure in a different way, but it’s probably a lot less likely. All of my drawing came from wanting to draw my own superheroes and Vallejo/Frazetta/Elmore/Parkinson/Caldwell style pictures. Would this comic exist? I think there’s like a 10% chance. Of maybe it would be called Man Power, and it would feature a bunch of muscular, shirtless dudes with effeminate faces and dazzling cum-gutters. Sydney would still be named Sydney, but he’d be built like an 11 year old boy… Okay, Sydney wouldn’t change much I guess.
🤔🤔🤔
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my mom (less so me) always gets asked this funny little question when she says mild, "mild or white person mild?" cause we're singaporean but i inherited my dads spice intolerance
if she doesnt say white person mild we once got a dish that was red cause of the amount of "mild" spices
LMAO that happens some places in america too, particularly the south cuz over there youll see rednecks practically chugging sauces with names like "nasty daves atomic buttfucker" thats like ten billion scoville units . sometimes you see it here in the east as well . on the other hand ive heard its common that some british folks cant even handle black pepper so maybe "british person mild" would be a more accurate frame of reference. personally if i order spicy food i say something like "id like to still feel my tongue" and it hasnt steered me wrong yet
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vimeo
Apple Arcade - A New World To Play In from Mauro Chiarello on Vimeo.
Director: Ian Pons Jewell Producer: Chris Avery @ Apple Writer: Jordan Pories Creative Director: Hamish Pinnel Art Director: Esteban Cardona Group Creative Directors: Sam Oliver & Carl Broadhurst AD Producer: Jacob Stitzel Production Company: Reset Managing Director: Dave Morrison Executive Producers: Deannie O'Neil & Jen Beitler Head of Production: JP Colombo Producer: Megan Moore Director of Photography: Mauro Chiarello Director’s Assistant: George Daniell Casting: Majo Gallardo Costume Designer: Nayeli de Alba
Production Service Company: The Lift Producer: Fuad Abded Managing Director: Avelino Rodriguez Production Manger: Israel González Cadena Unit Manager: Vladimir Espinoza Production Coordinator: Liliana Huacuja APOC: David Carretero Script: Andrea Eduardina Key PA: Juan Tovar Production Assistants: Erick Ávila, Miguel Luna, Isaac Alvarez Runner: Paulina Camacho Chaperone: Paulina Marín Chaperone: Paulina Maqueda Locations Manager: Sergio Aguilar Locations Assistants: Itzia Rojas, Rodrigo López, Eduardo Gutierrez, Andrés Macías, Juan Chávez
1st AD DGA: Robert Phillips 1st AD: Sandra Mayerstein 2nd AD Vala Cárdenas 2nd AD: Lorenza Ramos 1st AC Horacio Vega 2nd AC: Adonay Meza Camera PA: Edson Reyes DIT: Julio Cesar Gonzalez Data Manager: Hayde Medina Corona VTR Operator: Jonathan Fernando Noriega Hernández VTR Assistants: Eduardo Martinez & Miguel Valdez Wheels Operator: Felipe Pérez-Burchard Steadicam Operator: Gerardo Manjarezz Trinity Operator: Niels Lindelien Gaffer: Leonardo Julián Key Grip: Juan Antonio Aguilar López Key Grip: Jose Marcos Vilchis VFX Supervisor: Daniel "Chovy" Cordero VFX Assistants: Rafael Santana Cruz & Francisco Ruben Perez Reyes
Production Designers: Robin Brown & Margarita Laborde Hair & Make Up: Chela Olea Hair & Make Up Assistants: Yoali Cortés, Ixchel Cortés Stunt Coordinator: Tomas Guzman Art Coordinator: Katia Duarte Propmaster: Diego Téllez Decorator: Melinda Ridaura Decorator: Sandra Jalife Art Assistant: Jessica Peralta Wardrobe Coordinator: Giselle Arriaga Wardrobe Assistants: Rodrigo Montoya, Paulina Regalado, Christian Fernando, Rocelia Alexandra Graphic Design: Mireya Guerrero Renders: Hugo Jiménez Swings: Daniel Hernández, Jesús Enriquez, Aldo Márquez, Juan Cisneros, Néstor Luna, Luis Hernández, Gabriel Cabrera.
Edit Company: Whitehouse Post, Los Angeles Editor: Tobias Suhm Executive Producer: Joanna Manning Post Producer: Jordan Stricklin
VFX Company: Framestore VFX Supervisor: James Rogers Senior Producer: Joe Greenberg Art Director: Carlos Vidal Lead Data Wrangler: Fabio Zapata Data Wrangler: Juan Colon Coordinator: Evan Kanter
CAST Kid in car: Ariella Covalin-Mizarahi Metro Guy: Shu Sakimoto
Chef & Waiters: Jack Morris Jean Wolf Allison Vargas
Taco Stand: Mariana Arias Emme Gonzalez Paulina Camacho Oscar Sagrado Raphael De Cecco Ivan Modragon Christian Godoy Miguel Angel
Airplane: Heidy Diaz
Popcorn Eaters: Micah Bijon Charlie Scovill
Clothes Guy: Rick Darge Bus Shelter: Yuki Oc-Noda
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Ghost pepper is in the 7th place of the SHU scale (Scoville Heat Units, that indicates how much capsaicin the pepper has, and, by result, how much hot it is) the Carolina Reaper is in first place
Oooh. My dad has this hot sauce called Dave’s insanity and it’s the only stuff I’ve ever seen make him cry. Idk what kind of pepper it is though
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spicy food headcanons
june
june can maybe handle a jalapeño. Maybe. she doesnt actively seek out spicy food but doesnt hate it either
rose
fucking monster. can eat a whole habanero and feel fine. inspires fear
dave
cannot even fucking do a bell pepper motherfucker spits that shit out with tears in his eyes
jade
spicy food champion she eats that shit UP
jane
always has to spit out jalapeños and ask for No Spiciness when she eats out (eats out what!.. anyway)
roxy
roses equal but she doesnt let on. shes like “wanna try my food its not that spicy” and then wreaks havoc
dirk
same as dave if not worse. he tries to keep a straight face but cries and snots everywhere at even 1 scoville
jake
cannot eat a jalapeño without crying, less out of pain and more out of emotional turmoil
karkat
tries to get a higher tolerance but cant at fucking all
aradia
also a monster. probably more of a monster than rose
tavros
i feel like hed be able to stomach some pretty spicy stuff which of course drives vriska up the fucking wall
sollux
even just touching a pepper makes him go into anaphylactic shock
nepeta
she can eat Pretty Spicy stuff but it upsets her kitty cat tum tum
kanaya
essentially 0 tolerance and she embraces this
terezi
living garbage disposal that can eat a ghost pepper whole and not be phased at all. if rose roxy and aradia were monsters she is cthulhu
vriska
she talks big like she can but secretly cant at all. starts crying while eating and acts like shes fine but very clearly is not
equius
guy only drank milk in a dark room for 13 years i dont think he even knows what a pepper is
gamzee
actually has a really high tolerance but has horrible taste in food
eridan
please look at eridan for 1 second and tell me if he looks like he could withstand even a grain of salt. the answer is no
feferi
tries to like spicy food but hates it and has to spit it out. lives in shame
#idk what compelled me to do this but i did#homestuck#hs#rose#dave#june#egberts#jade#roxy#dirk#jane#jake#karkat#aradia#tavros#sollux#nepeta#kanaya#terezi#vriska#equius#gamzee#eridan#feferi#fireside chats#long post
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Thank you for lending me you Scoville smut rating! Dave really did need the warning, BDE is the perfect description for him! Not surprised he's the first one to get her exactly where he wanted her.... 😋
And thank you so much, I've loved writing this series so much! I'm so pleased you've loved it!
A Baker's Dozen - Eleven**
Hello!
The second to last visitor to the bakery is here and I can hardly believe it! Eleven weeks of Pedro boys have flown past and I've had so much fun with them!
So before we get started with number eleven, this series was meant to be all fluff, but then this Pedro boy arrived and just really got out of hand and I had nothing to do with it, he just took over!
So I had to ask my friend @morallyinept if I could use her very handy Scoville Smut Rating to issue some warnings. Thank you, Jett!
This chapter is rated:
🌶 - "Don't hurt me, cadejo."
Scoville Level 15,000. The Donis Cadejo Hot Sauce. (Buy the sauce here) The story contains mildly spicy smut. Tingles left on your tongue.

The week’s been slower than usual, as it always is in February, post-holiday blues setting in, everyone trying to be extra healthy and save some money. No time to be indulging in sweet things. Your shop does fine though, planning and prepping for Valentine’s Day and the upcoming wedding season.
But the slower hours in the shop makes you take note of the black car that’s been parked across the street all day. Nothing odd about that, but there’s also been someone sitting in the car all day. You’ve been glancing over as you go about your business, studying the man behind the wheel as he makes notes and phone calls, focused on something further down the street, out of your view. From the way he’s dressed, a crisp, well ironed, pale blue shirt, you’re guessing he’s an agent for some agency, or maybe a very well dressed private eye. He’s not doing a very good job though, he sticks out like a sore thumb on this street of small businesses. When he glances over at you just before noon, you give him a quick smile, to hide the fact that you’ve been staring at the way he’s been rubbing his large hand over his chin for the past five minutes. He locks eyes with you, surprise flitting across his face, before he gives you a crooked smile in return.
This is the beginning of a dance; you glance over to find him looking at you rather than the street in front of him, you raise your eyebrows in challenge and he seems to chuckle, looking away. You study his strong nose, the dark curls brushing over his forehead as he makes more notes, and he catches you staring when he looks over, one eyebrow arching in a questioning look and you shrug with a smile, going back to the cake you’re decorating.
It’s late in the afternoon when you notice movement in the street, a second car parking behind the first and a man getting out and walking over to the first car. Quick words are exchanged, you steal glances from the corner of your eye as you finish up an order for tomorrow. Bending down to put the order away, you hear the bell on your front door chime.
“Hi, I thought I’d stop by and say hello properly,” the man from the car is standing in front of the counter with a small smile as you straighten up.
“Hi,” you say, returning his smile as you take the chance to get a better look at him for the first time. He’s taller than you expected, and broad, so much broader than the side view you’ve had all day indicated. The light blue dress shirt is stretching over his shoulders and arms and you immediately decide that he must be an agent, no private eye is ever this fit, not that you have much experience, but still.
“I just wanted to introduce myself and explain what I’m doing,” the man says, nodding over at his car on the other side of the street, “And I hope I can count on your discretion too.”
“Uuhmm, sure,” you say, looking at him as he pulls a badge from the pocket of his suit trousers, “I was kinda assuming that you’re on some sort of stake out.”
“That obvious, huh?” the man chuckles, showing you his ID.
“Yeah, your sleek car and nice shirt gave it away a little,” you smile, “and the way you sat out there all day, I’m pretty sure every business owner on the street has spotted you.”
“I’ll need to fix that for tomorrow then,” he smiles, “I’m special agent Dave York, I’m with the CIA, and we’ve got surveillance on an apartment further down the street. I can’t tell you what it’s about but you don’t have to worry, it’s nothing dangerous for the neighborhood.”
“That’s good to know,” you reply, “And you’re welcome in for coffee or something to snack on whenever you want,” you thumb at the coffee machine behind you, “I’d offer delivery service but that might be a little bit too obvious.”
He chuckles at that and you notice the dimple on his clean shaven cheek, a slight five o’clock shadow indicating that it’s been a while since he got up and shaved this morning.
“I’d love a coffee right now, if you don’t mind,” he says and you point at the menu.
“What’ll it be?
“The dark roast, black, please,” he says, “You’ve got a good selection.”
“Thanks, people mainly buy bread and cakes, the coffee machine is mainly for me and a handful of regulars who like good coffee, we like trying different beans and roasts,” you throw him a smile over your shoulder as you prepare his coffee to go.
“I’ll have to become a regular then, keep your coffee business going,” he taps his card on the machine as you hand him the cup.
“I just realized I know who you are,” you say, the penny finally dropping, “One of my regulars, Mrs Levinson, knows your mom. Mrs Levinson bought a Lemon Meringue Pie for her a while back.”
“Oh yeah, those two are as thick as thieves, always trying to set me up on blind dates,” he chuckles, taking a sip of the coffee, “I’ve been blaming my workload to avoid them." He raises the cup to you with a smile, “Great coffee, I’ll definitely come back."
“If I don’t spot you, I’ll know you’ve done a better job of hiding,” you tell him and he laughs, giving you a cheesy thumbs up as he leaves.
You watch him take long strides across the street to his car, the coffee still in his hand, and just as he gets in the car, he turns and looks back at you, a smile cracking across his face as he raises his hand in a wave.
You do spot him the next day, but you are keeping an eye out for him, glancing out to see if he’s arrived. He parks a different car across the street this time, a beat up, rusty looking banger, and he’s in a ratty looking t-shirt and a beanie pulled low over his forehead. Much less ‘agent on a stakeout’ this time, but you still glance over at him from time to time, far too often in fact. And you bite back a smile when you catch him glancing over at you too, catching your eye on a few occasions as he winks.
Half way through the day he’s relieved, and he steps out of his car, coming over to the bakery again.
“Hi,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he pulls off his beanie, “Did I blend in better today?”
“Yeah, better,” you smile back at him as he comes up to the counter, “The distressed t-shirt was a good choice.”
“I had to dig it out from the bottom of some box left over from when I moved,” he holds up the front of it and studies the suspicious looking stain on the front, “I swear this is not my usual casual look.”
Holding up the front has resulted in the hem of the t-shirt lifting up over the edge of his pants and you can’t help but glance down as he flashes a few inches of skin, his sweat pants sitting low on his hips. The trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband has you momentarily distracted as you follow it down to-
“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, snapping your eyes back up to his, but not before he notices, giving you a small smirk, “NIce sweatpants.”
“Thanks,” he chuckles, “not as old as the t-shirt, but still not my best look, I promise.”
“I don’t mind that much,” you smirk back and he flashes a crooked grin, his eyebrow cocked, before he looks up at the coffee menu behind you and tilts his head to the side.
“What do you recommend today? I’m feeling adventurous,” he says, looking down at you again with a smile, “blame the sweatpants.”
“A single espresso shot vanilla hazelnut latte with salted caramel and whipped cream on top? I usually add some cookie crumbles too,” you say and Dave’s face falls, his eyebrows pulling together in a concerned look.
“Ah…uhh…” he stutters, rubbing his hand over his jaw, clearly looking for a polite way to decline your suggestion and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at his panic, but he catches the mirth in your eyes.
“Holy shit, you’re kidding,” he gasps out, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow as you start giggling.
“Sorry, I had to check if you’re serious about your coffee,” you wink at him as he shakes his head and puffs a relieved breath.
“Had me worried,” he says, “I thought I’d have to drink one of those to be allowed to stay a regular.”
“No, I think I’d have to kick you out if you did order one of those,” you smile, picking up the bag of new beans that just arrived, “Here, smell these, I just got them so I haven’t even tried them yet.”
Dave takes a deep breath and nods with a satisfied look, “That’s nice, can I try that?”
“Sure, I’ll make us one each. Single or double?”
“Double, please, this stake out thing is kicking my ass,” he says, leaning against the counter as you start the process of grinding the beans.
“Do you want some cake or something else too?” you ask, nodding at your selection.
“No, I’m good,” he says, “It all looks really good, but not today.” He does let his eyes drift over the cakes on display though and you smile to yourself, you know the type, sooner or later he’ll cave and get something as a treat no matter how strong his resolve it.
“Here you go,” you say, passing him his espresso, in a cup this time, “let me know what you think, if it’s good I might give it a permanent spot on the menu.”
You both take a few sips of the coffee in silence, humming at the flavors.
“It’s good,” Dave finally says, “Really good, I wouldn’t complain if it was a regular on the menu.”
“I agree, I’m going to order more,” you reply, draining the cup as he pulls his wallet out of his pants.
“Let me pay for both coffees,” he says, holding out his card, “as a thank you, for letting me come in and disturb you.”
“You’re not disturbing, Dave,” you smile, “you can come in whenever you want.”
“Even if I’m not on a stake out?” he asks, a small smile playing around his mouth and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Especially when you’re not on a stake out,” you smile back and his dimple makes an appearance as his smile widens.
“I’ll remember that,” he says, tapping his card to pay for both coffees, “I’ll see you tomorrow though, more stake out.”
“See you tomorrow,” you say, returning the wave he gives you as he leaves.
He’s back the next morning, already sitting in the car as you come out into the shop to open up for the day. He looks tired, yawning big and rubbing his hand over his eyes as he leans his head against the headrest. You glance over at him while you work and serve the small morning crowd, but he doesn’t look back at you. Saying goodbye to the last customer you look over at the car again, Dave’s head is flopped to the side, mouth hanging open and eyes closed, sound asleep. The sight is adorable, the big CIA agent clearly exhausted if he’s passed out on the job. You grab your travel mug, the one you keep filled with coffee through the morning, and give it a quick clean. Filling it up with a triple espresso shot from the beans you’d had with him yesterday, you screw on the top and exit the shop. He stirs as your shoes scuff over the asphalt, jerking up as you lightly tap the window.
“Hey, want some coffee?” you ask, holding up the travel mug and he gives you such a look of relief and gratitude that it melts your heart.
“Thanks,” he says once he’s cranked down the window in the old car, “I’m dead here, can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Doesn’t do you much good on a stake out,” you say, “drop off the mug when you leave, and just wave at me if you want more coffee, I’ll come over with a refill.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he smiles, and you smile back, giving him a wave as you cross the street to the bakery.
Dave stays a bit more alert through the rest of the day, and gets relieved earlier than usual. You smile when he comes into the shop.
“Any luck with whatever you’re waiting for?” you ask as he hands you the travel mug.
“No, and we’re running out of time, this might be a waste of resources,” he says, shaking his head and yawning widely, “I’m sorry, I was up late last night, working on this and then I couldn’t fall asleep, too much stuff on my mind.”
“Go home, Dave,” you say, shooing him out of your shop with a smile, “You’re no good to anyone when you’re like this.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, “But I like our chats, makes this stake out more enjoyable than any other I’ve been on,” he suddenly looks a little bit shy as he’s half turned towards the door, a small smile as he looks back at you.
“I like our chats too,” you say, butterflies erupting in the pit of your belly, and for a few seconds you’re just ogling each other like a couple of fools, both too shy to say anything else. Dave clears his throat, a small chuckling sound, and looks at his shoes before he glances up.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“See you tomorrow, Dave,” you give him a wave and a small smile, biting your lip to hold back the bigger one that’s being pushed up by the butterflies as he returns your smile and leaves.
But the next morning you don’t see his car, or any other car that might be a covert CIA operation and you wonder if the stake out got canceled. The day passes slowly, the usual February slump slower than usual without Dave outside your window. Realizing you don’t have his number, you can only hope he’ll come back even though he’s not on a stake out. And when you finally see him the next afternoon, crossing the street at a slight jog to avoid a car, you feel yourself smiling before he’s even spotted you. When he pushes open the door he gives you a wide grin.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks, coming up to the counter as you put away your phone.
“Hi,” you smile at him, thanking your past self for changing the stained t-shirt and apron into something cuter, “I’m good, but things are slow today so I’m glad you’re here, it’s been kinda boring without the stake out to distract me.”
He chuckles at that, looking out onto the spot where his car had been for the past three days.
“Yeah, orders came yesterday to can it, another team has picked up a hotter lead so we’ve been working on that. But that place doesn't have any nice bakeries nearby, so it's a complete loss,” he says with a smile that makes your insides liquid.
“So you’re actually here when not on a stake out?” you tease him and he laughs.
“Told you I’d be back,” he says, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’s wearing up over his thick forearms and crossing his arms, scanning the coffee menu. “Should I go for another one of those nice beans, or should I be adventurous?” he asks.
You give him a crooked smile, tilting your head like you’re assessing him and he raises an eyebrow in question at you.
“What do you have in mind? That look is making me nervous.”
“I’m thinking….” you begin, “the regular coffee, but…you get a snack too, one of the cakes.”
Dave gives you a grin in response and begins to scan the cakes, “The carrot cake,” he says, pointing to one of the smallest slices covered in white cream cheese frosting.
“Good choice,” you smile, “it’s a best seller and I made it this morning.” You plate the slice and start making the coffee for him.
“It’s kinda healthy, right?” he asks, eyeing the carrot cake with suspicion, “It’s got carrots and all?”
“I mean, it’s still got sugar and fat in it,” you chuckle, “but it’s made with vegetable oil and not butter, so there is that.”
You bring the coffee to the counter and start making a coffee for yourself as Dave picks up the plate.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you sputter out as you watch him scrape the frosting off the cake with the spoon, “That’s the best part!”
“It’s just fat and sugar,” he says, putting the dollop of frosting on the side of the plate, “I’m trying to stay healthy.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Dave,” you smirk, “if you don’t eat that frosting on the cake like the baker intended, I don’t think this friendship is going to last.” You point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in a challenge.
“You know, I usually don’t eat sweet stuff, it’s the job,” he says, “I need to stay fit for it.” He’s toying with the cake, the intonation heavy on the 'eat'. He's not looking at you, but there’s a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.
“So indulge a little, it’ll be worth it,” you smile and he looks up at you, his smirk suddenly changing into something more challenging as he seems to evaluate you in silence for several long seconds.
“Only if you’re on the menu,” he says, his dark eyes pinning you in place while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you on the menu?”
The question is direct as he slowly raises his eyebrows, the intention clear.
You feel your brain grind to a halt, Dave’s dark brown eyes are boring into you as you slowly inhale, you feel like he’s flicked a switch and turned on his professional side, but he’s not using it to interrogate you. Instead he’s using it to put pressure on you, to get you to tell him what you want.
What he wants.
Glancing down at the plate still in his hand, he swipes his finger through the frosting and slowly rounds the counter, coming up to where you’re still standing frozen by the coffee machine.
“Are you?” he says, repeating his question and slowly bringing his finger to his mouth, sucking the frosting off with a pop.
The tip of your tongue comes out to lick across your top lip and Dave glances down at your mouth, following the movement. Taking a step closer, he’s almost touching you now, you can feel the scent of his cologne wash over you as his eyes come back up to yours.
“I’d really like it, if you were on the menu,” he says, his voice low and dark, “but if you’re not, tell me, and I’ll leave.”
You swallow, still transfixed by his dark eyes on you, the way he’s looking at you, like he’s trying to read you and succeeding. You slowly nod your head yes.
Dave inhales softly, putting down the plate, “Use your words. Tell me I can kiss you,” he says, the frustration clearly thrumming just below the surface of his low tones as his breath skates across your cheek, his hands hovering just inches from your body, ready to grab as soon as you give him permission, “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all week but I couldn’t do anything.”
A shiver runs through your body, your hand shaking as you put your coffee cup down, slowly putting both your hands on the front of his gray t-shirt, feeling the bunched up muscles flex under your palms as you slide them up to his shoulders. Dave is watching you intently, a small crease between his eyebrows, his fingers twitching by your waist.
“Not here,” you say, dropping your hands to your sides, and side stepping him. He turns as you slip out past him, quickly walking the front door and locking it, flipping the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign. When you turn back, he’s still standing by the coffee machine and you pass him.
“Less nosy neighbors in here,” you say, holding out your hand to him.
He reacts in a heartbeat, taking your hand and crowding you as he pushes you further into the kitchen, out of sight. He lets go of your hand and grabs your waist, the other landing on your neck, his large hand easily spanning across it and up, cupping your cheek as he walks you backwards. The cool metal of the walk-in fridge hits your back and Dave’s towering over you, bending his face down so that his strong nose brushes against yours, his eyes almost black under his eyebrows, pulled together tight, and the hand at your waist bunching up your shirt.
“Now?” he husks and you nod.
“Yes, now.”
His mouth is hot when it reaches yours in a flash, he’s pushing you further up against the fridge as he angles his head to have more. There’s an edge of desperation to the way he holds you. The hand on your cheek keeps you where he needs you as he licks the seam of your lips. When you part them, his tongue is eager and needy, a groan escaping from somewhere deep inside of him and you pant into his mouth as his sounds fire up your brain. Heat shoots through your body like rocket fuel ignited, the cool metal behind you a sharp contrast to the solid warmth of Dave’s body in front when he pulls you closer with his hand on your waist, tugging you into him.
It’s messy, tongues and teeth fighting for control, your hands in his hair, his thick fingers grabbing your neck, his thigh between your legs. There’s no hiding the arousal coursing through you both as you moan at the way he rubs over your core, his low groans mixed in when he rolls his hard length into your hip.
He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling back your head and trailing wet kisses across your throat, sucking a mark into where shoulder meets neck, moving up again, his teeth gently tugging on your earlobe before you gasp when he nips at the soft skin just underneath.
“I’ve been fucking dreaming about how you’d sound when I did this,” he growls when you moan loudly into the silent kitchen, “sound so pretty, so fucking sweet.” His hand on your waist tightens, he’s pulling you down onto his leg, rocking into you as you clamor for a grip, tugging at his hair, loud, satisfied groan coming from Dave.
“I wanna hear what you sound like when you come,” he mutters, moving his mouth up to yours again, biting your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue coming out to caress it, taste it, before he lets go.
Pulling back a little, he looks down at you. You meet his dark eyes, lust clouding them as you gasp at the way his thick thigh creates just enough friction to make you convulse under his firm grip.
“So fucking sweet,” he mumbles, a tone to his voice like he’s been craving this, “always looking at me from the bakery, always smelling so good, so tempting. Been wanting to do this since the first day, just get you in here and make you come all over my leg, hear you say my name.”
You try to unscramble your brain, it’s hazy with arousal, the coil that he’s wound so tightly about to snap. But all you can feel is the tell tale tingling that’s started in your core and you close your eyes, the feeling radiating out from where his thigh rubs against you.
“No, keep them open for me, baby,” Dave growls, “keep your eyes on me,” his voice forcing you to look up at him as it hits.
“Dave…” you gasp, “Pl-please, Dave…”
It shoots through your system like electricity, your legs closing around his, your skin burning as he kisses you, swallowing down your cries of his name as he keeps moving his leg, working you through the high until your muscles finally relax.
He holds you up, his arm around your waist now, as his kisses soften. Soft movements across your lips, his tongue gently teasing yours until he pulls back a little, pressing his lips against yours, foreheads touching as you take a deep breath and you can feel him smile against you.
He moves his leg back, bending down and grabbing hold of your thighs, picking you up like you weigh nothing. With your arms around his neck, you hold on until he sets you down on the workbench, his hard erection is pressed tight between you but he seems to ignore it.
“You ok?” he asks quietly, bending down and pressing a small kiss to the side of your neck, “seemed like you needed that.” His chuckle is low and amused as you sigh deeply.
“That’s how you indulge?” you ask, caressing the back of his head, raking your fingers through his thick hair.
“Better for your body than that carrot cake,” he smirks, pulling back a bit so that he can look at you while he cups your jaw and strokes his thumb over cheek.
“I told you, this friendship won’t last if you don’t eat the frosting,” you give him a small smile, your body still humming.
Dave gives you a smug look, “I don’t want your friendship, I want your frosting,” he says with a grin, tugging gently at your chin so that he can press his lips to yours and slip his tongue inside before your addled brain can come up with a comeback.
The kiss is languid and slow, Dave takes his time, holding you back as you try to pull him closer, your hands still in his hair. After several long minutes he reaches up and untangles your fingers and pulls them down to your sides.
“I’m leaving now,” he says against your mouth, his lips brushing over yours, “And I want you to be good. I have to go take care of something on that case. Close the shop when you’re done, go home, I’ll come by later.” There’s a promise in his low tone, in the way he nips at your bottom lip one last time and his fingers dig into your hips as he moves around your neck.
“Listen,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear, “I’m not done with you yet.”
Part Twelve

Ok, so that got spicier then intended right? I don't know what to say, Dave just stepped in and took over.... blame him or thank him!
For the cake, this recipe uses pecans but I prefer walnuts but you can also leave them out if you want too. But it really is a very good cake...
Taglist: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers
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42 Webcomics Keshet Reads
I was recently reminded that I currently read a lot of webcomics, or have done so in the past. Here’s an incomplete list, linking to the first page where i can (which will usually mean the worst art). Organized thus: Title, Author. Genre. Format (long-format stories, short-format & single-page stories, or mixed). Description.
The Adventures of Dr. McNinja, by Christopher Hastings. Comedy, Parody, Action. A man from a long line of Irish ninjas has devoted his own life to saving lives as a doctor, disappointing his family. His staff includes a sentient but non-speaking gorilla receptionist, and eventually a boy sidekick who grew a fabulous mustache out of sheer determination. Recurring threats include fast food mascots, ghosts, wizards, ghost wizards, and a disease that turns people into giant lumberjacks. Completed.
BACK, by Anthony Clark and KC Green. Comedy, Adventure, Absurdity, Weird West. Long-Format. A cowgirl comes back from the dead with no memory of who she was or how she died, and is told by a trio of “Cool Witches” that she has to bring about the end of the world—though what exactly that means remains a mystery. Consistently excellent visual storytelling from masters of sequential art; at least one WLW pairing among the characters.
Bite Me!, by Dylan Meconis. Comedy, Horror, Historic Fiction. Long-Format. A young woman becomes a vampire amidst the chaos of the French Revolution. Featuring immortal angst, a Jewish werewolf, and sacré bleu, the chickens. Completed (website can be slow to load).
Broodhollow, by Kris Straub. Horror, Weird Fiction. Long-Format. By the creator of the original creepypasta that inspired Channel Zero. A young man abounding with neuroses and compulsions comes to a strange little town in order to settle a late relative’s estate. Themes of unreliable memories and differences of perception.
Chainsawsuit, by Kris Straub. Comedy. Short-Format. Three-panel gag comic.
ChaosLife, by A. Stiffler & K. Copeland. Slice of Life, Autobiographical. Mixed-Format. The life of a queer couple and their pets: humor, lgbt issues, mental illness (K. experiences paranoid schizophrenia), cats, and occasional puppets.
Crunchy Bunches, by Scott Warren. Comedy. Mixed-Format. Cereal mascot parody focused on snaggle-toothed feline mascot Munchy and his friends.
Dead Winter, by Allison Shabet. Action, Horror, Comedy. Long-Format. Zombie apocalypse story with occasional partially-animated scenes, and a relatively low focus on the actual zombies. Infrequent updates, but has a Patreon with weekly content.
DRIVE, by Dave Kellet. Sci-Fi, Comedy. Long-Format. Humanity has taken to the stars, led by a second Spanish Empire that controls the secrets of FTL travel. When the crew of the Machito recover their science advisor and accidentally pick up a mysterious amnesiac alien at the same time, they become embroiled in intrigue that affects the whole of human space and beyond, caught between secret police, mind-controlling invaders, and a species dedicated to invention who have a grudge against humans.
El Goonish Shive, by Dan Shive. Adventure, Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Superheroics, Slice of Life, Mad Science. Long Format. Difficult to pin down, once described as “the most squeaky-clean fetish comic online”—lots of characters undergoing fantastic transformations of their bodies. Starts out weak but gradually grew into one of the most progressive webcomics out there as the creator started to really think about the meaning of someone wanting to transform from a nerdy boy into a busty girl. I’ve said more about it, here. Significant LGBT content, including canon gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, genderfluid, and asexual characters.
Family Man, by Dylan Meconis. Historic Fiction, Horror, Romance, Libraries. Long-Format. A learned man of Jewish ancestry takes a position as a lecturer at a small Christian university in the middle of nowhere in the Germanies of the 18th century, and falls in love with the daughter of the head of the university—who has some secrets relating to her mother’s family On hiatus as of July 2017.
Freefall, by Mark Stanley. Comedy, Sci-Fi, Furry. Long-Format. A larcenous alien and his naive robot pal living on a human colony world acquire the services of an uplifted humanoid wolf as their ship’s engineer under less-than-legal circumstances. As time goes on, the crew becomes caught up in the struggles and politics of the artificial intelligences of the colony. Binge-reading page here, colored strips here.
Girl Genius, by Phil & Kaja Foglio. Gaslamp Fantasy (Not-Steampunk), Action, Comedy, Mad Science, Alternate History. Long-format. A young woman discovers that she is the latest in a line of mad scientists including the vanished heroes of Europa as well as some of its most terrible villains.
Goblins, by Ellipsis Hana Stephens. Fantasy, RPGs, Action, Body Horror. Long-format. A tribe of goblins go from being mere MOBs to taking levels as adventurers themselves, facing ambiguity about alignment, morality, and the place of "monsters” in a world that seems to favor humanoids. Can get very gory at times. Light LGBT content including a prominent gay male character; transgender creator.
Goodbye to Halos, by Valerie Halla. Fantasy, Adventure. Long Format. Forced through a gateway to another world for her own safety, Fenic finds herself in the “run-down queer district” of a city of animal people—and spends a few years coming into own identity as a trans lesbian, forging a new life. But the reasons she was forced into this world are catching up to her, and she’ll need to turn her protective streak towards defending herself. Heavy LGBT themes; often not safe for work. The only work i can think of where a trans girl’s underwear bulge is treated as a completely nonsexual and innocent thing.
Grrl Power, by Dave Barrack. Superheroes, Sci-Fi. Long Format. Probably Not Safe For Work. Comics nerd Sydney Scoville winds up becoming a superhero herself after circumstances force her to reveal her powers and join up with an agency providing training and oversight. While consistently funny and clever with the use of powers, it can be very centered on the male gaze; the art starts out being pretty . I actually first started reading it because I recognized one of the characters from years prior when the artist was posting softcore smut to furry websites.
Guilded Age, by T. Campbell & Phil Kahn, art by John & Jason Waltrip and Erica Henderson. Fantasy, RPGs, Action, MMOs. Long-Format. A group of adventurers face off against threats to their world—such as the CEO of the company that programmed their world in the first place. Strong themes of intrigue, the nature of violence, and the concept of good and evil in fantasy settings. Completed, now running extras & side stories, including annotated repeats of the original pages.
Gunnerkrigg Court, by Tom Siddell. Fantasy, Sci-Fi. Long-Format. A young girl attends a strange boarding school specializing in matters of the supernatural and obscure, making friends with classmates, a ghost, robots, psychopomps, living shadows, fairies, and eldritch horrors in the form of silly woodland creatures while exploring the mysteries of the school and her own ancestry. Shows remarkable art progression; the style of the first storyline is unrecognizable from the present. Especially rewarding if you’re into alchemy. LGBT content, including prominent WLW characters. Warnings: unreality is a recurring theme, and there is a bit of “suicidal” fairies desperate to be reincarnated as humans. Boxbot is rubbish.
Johnny Wander, by Yuko Ota & Ananth Hirsh. Autobiographical, Fantasy, Humor, Mixed-Format. A mix of slice-of-life autobiographical pages, and short stories, including the longer format “Barbarous” and “Lucky Penny”.
Kevin & Kell, by Bill Holbrook. Comedy, Slice-of-Life, Furry. Mixed-Format. Extremely long-running strip (daily updates since September of 1995). In a world of anthropomorphic animals where predatory species can legally & without repercussions hunt & consume other species, a businesswoman wolf (Kell) and her uncommonly large rabbit husband (Kevin) make their blended family work in spite of social stigma against predator/prey relationships. Far more light-hearted than it sounds, though it often touches on social issues and drama. Light LGBT content from some minor recurring characters.
Kill Six Billion Demons, by Abbadon. Fantasy, Metaphysical, Martial Arts. Long Format. A college student’s attempt at heterosexuality is interrupted by the arrival of a legendary king of all reality. Thrust into a battle over the greatest power of all worlds, Allison faces devils, angels, and the city at the center of the 777,777 universes. It’s a lot to take in. Occasionally not safe for work. Frequent LGBT content, including WLW.
Love Me Nice, by Amanda Lafrenais. Comedy, Hollywood. Long Format. Set in a world shared by cartoon characters and ‘real’ people (think Roger Rabbit), where TV star Mac T. Monkey Jr. struggles between his irresponsible instincts and his attempts to build a life as an adult and a relationship with fellow protagonist (and manager) Claire. Some LGBT content; infrequent updates. Occasionally Not Safe For Work.
Manly Guys Doing Manly Things, by Coelasquid. Comedy, Videogames, Parody. Mixed-Format. The staff of a temp agency for “ludicrously macho guys” tries to help the protagonists of video games, TV, and movies deal with their testosterone-addled brains in a constructive fashion. Occasional LGBT content—mostly MLM, naturally. Keep an eye out for the fluffy little velociraptors, and Mr. Fish the Gyarados. On indefinite hiatus since June of 2018.
Narbonic, by Shaenon K. Garrity. Comedy, Sci-Fi, Mad Science, Gerbils. Mixed-Format. Comp Sci. grad Dave needs a job. Helen B. Narbon, cute blonde mad scientist with a gerbil fixation, is hiring. Story arcs feature action-packed forensic linguistics, a worldwide conspiracy of guys with the same name, rodents uplifted to sentience, time travel. Some awkwardness around gender transformations, light LGBT content. Completed, with author annotations.
Nedroid Picture Diary, by Anthony Clark. Comedy, Absurdity. Short Format. Short comics that very quickly come to focus on the antics of the anomalous ursine orb Beartato and his friend/roommate Reginald, a bird who is just terrible.
Not Drunk Enough, by Tess Stone. Supernatural, Action, Horror. Long Format. A survival horror styled webcomic by a creator with a history of exceptionally dynamic page composition and lettering. Expect lots of magnificently weird body horror.
O Human Star, by Blue Delliquanti. Roboticist Al Sterling died. Al Sterling woke up an android body mimicking his own. As he reconnects with his former partner-in-several-senses, he explores a world that remembers him as one of its greatest innovators. Major themes of identity, the definition of humanity, and gender and sexuality. LGBT themes including MLM and transgender characters. Warning for some discussion of self-harm.
Outsider, by Jim Francis. Sci-Fi. Long Format. Beautifully-illustrated science fiction story that is painfully slow to update. If you watched a lot of 80s and 90s sci-fi anime, you’ll get the vibe that this has—including its arguable weak point of being centered on a man who finds himself among an alien race dominated by warrior women.
Patrik the Vampire, by Bree Paulsen. Supernatural, Slice-of-Life. Long Format. The unlife and history of an exceptionally awkward vampire and the mortals around him—book club, knitting, coffee shops, violent murder. Some LGBT content.
Poppy O’Possum, by I. Everett. Fantasy, Furries. Long Format. A single mother in a world of animal people where only opossums lack magic, Poppy just wants to settle down in quiet and safety with her daughter Lily. The world has other ideas—but fortunately, Poppy is mind-blowingly strong. On hiatus. Some LGBT content.
Questionable Content, by Jeph Jacques. Slice-of-Life, Comedy, Sci-Fi. Mixed-Format. Starts out focusing on indie rock fan Marten and his robotic “anthroPC” Pintsize. As the art evolves, so does the subject matter, focusing more and more on the rest of the cast and topics like the nature of personhood and identity for artificial intelligence. Eventually comes to feature significant LGBT content, including bisexual and transgender characters in the main cast.
Rae the Doe, by Olive Brinker. Comedy, Slice-of-Life. (Mostly) Short Format. If Garfield was a transgender doe and wore clothes and also there weren’t any jokes about Mondays or lasagna and the comic was constantly assumed to be autobiographical in spite of its creator frequently asserting otherwise and the comic was still genuinely funny. But otherwise just like Garfield, really.
Selkie, by Dave Warren. Sci-Fi, Slice-of-Life, Comedy, Drama. Long-Format. Former adoptee Todd becomes a father himself to a strange young girl who turns out to be a refugee from a secret underwater civilization. While the public gradually becomes aware that humans are not alone, family forms and is redefined as secrets from both Todd and Selkie’s past are revealed and dealt with, and kids confront issues of inclusion and exclusion. Also, for some reason two of the kids from Evangelion are Todd’s neighbors.
Skin Deep, by Kory Bing. Fantasy, Coming-of-Age, Monster Girls (and Boys). Michelle discovers the secret world of mythical monster people after a small medallion unlocks her own heritage as a sphinx—supposedly long-extinct, according to the other monsters. Michelle must explore who she is and her family history while also trying to avoid completely upending nonhuman society and maintaining secrets within a culture already used to the use of magical illusions and transformations. Light LGBT content.
Skin Horse, by Shaenon Garrity. Comedy, Sci-Fi, Mad Science, Zombies, Canadians. Mixed-Format. Set in the same universe as Narbonic (see above), “Skin Horse” follows an organization of the same name dedicated to providing social services to beings only recognized by the secret shadow government—staffed by a patchwork zombie bioweapon, a talking sled dog, a cross-dressing pansexual psychologist, and a receptionist in the form of an immobile Victorian robotic weapon of mass destruction, all overseen by a sentient swarm of bees. Frequent LGBT content.
Something*Positive, by RK Milholland. Comedy, Slice-of-Live, Parody. Mixed-Format. Very long-running comic that gradually grows from a dark and misanthropic sense of humor into a dark and misanthropic sense of humor with a warm and gooey center. Earlier comics can be pretty weak and handle many subjects very poorly (the first strip, linked above, features an abortion “joke”); gradually improves.in terms of LGBT representation to the point that it’s one of the better webcomics in that regard. I might recommend skipping ahead in the archives to the current decade (the “1937″ and “1938″ are strips flashing back to the previous generations).
Spacetrawler, by Christopher Baldwin. Sci-Fi, Comedy. Long-Format. The naive but brilliant alien race known as the Eebs are enslaved by interplanetary society at large, depending on their servile nature to maintain the high standard of technology and transportation across the void of space. A group of utterly incompetent aliens come to Earth to seek help in freeing the Eebs... and generally fuck everything up for the best with their terrible choices of sample humans. Currently in the midst of a sequel series focusing on new intrigue and antics, including a talking, murderous kangaroo.
Spinnerette, by Krakow Studios. Superheroes, Comedy, Sci-Fi. Mixed-Format. A grad student develops spider-themed superpowers—including extra arms—and attempts to navigate both concealing her transformation, and becoming a superhero in a world where super-powered vigilantes and criminals are a fact of life. Not Work-Safe due to suggestive artwork including improbably form-fitting costumes over improbably large bosoms. Recurring LGBT content.
Val & Isaac, by @tredlocity. Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Comedy. Mixed-Format. A space mercenary, her wizard buddy, and the cyborg fish girl who keeps all their technology functional, occasionally featuring their shapeshifting assassin friend Space Dread. Major LGBT content, including WLW and MLM, and a prominent transgender character.
Vattu, by Evan Dahm. Fantasy, Worldbuilding. Long-Format. Born to the Fluters of the grasslands, Vattu finds her traditional subsistence lifestyle torn away as a multi-species empire asserts a claim over her people’s lands. A fantasy epic with several major arcs; see also the creator’s earlier completed works Rice Boy and Order of Tales.
XKCD, by Randall Munroe. Science, Parody, Comedy. Short Format. Stick figures and scientific silliness. Make a point of checking the alt-text of each comic by moving your cursor over the strip. Early pages are much more along the lines of experimental sketches; link above directs to a random comic in the archives. Some comics are more along the lines of interactive games!
Yet Another Fantasy Gamer Comic (YAFGC), by Rich Morris. Fantasy, Comedy, Parody. Mixed-Format. Not Work-Safe. The inhabitants of a world heavily based in Dungeons & Dragons go about their lives as monsters, humanoids, and soul-searching mixes of the two. Begins with a romance between a beholder and a goblin, gradually builds up to battles between nations and the gods themselves, while also finding time to explore family, loss and love, and whether kobolds count as sapient. Moderate LGBT content including recurring gay & bisexual characters (it’s a very large cast); new readers guide here.
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Shoutout to the 3 people who know about this show, Titus is such a fun watch if you're into 2000's sitcoms, its literally been eating at my damn brain, ESPECIALLY THESE TWO... Dave and Tommy are gonna be the death of me istg... nah but fr I made this drawing based on their kiss scene, and I made the whole thing using a brush I made of that kiss, get ready for more Titus fanart btw I have so many ideas..
[also posted to my Instagram]
#titus show#titus#titus 2000#dave scoville#dave titus#tommy shafter#christopher titus#2000s shows#2000s#2000s series#sitcoms#2000s sitcom#fanart#drawing#art#artist#digital art#queer artist#gay people#gay#bisexual#lgbtq#postal movie#postal#postal dude#zack ward#korn#korn band#jonathan davis#the closet is glass
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Apple Arcade - A New World To Play In from Ian Pons Jewell on Vimeo.
Director: Ian Pons Jewell Producer: Chris Avery @ Apple Writer: Jordan Pories Creative Director: Hamish Pinnel Art Director: Esteban Cardona Group Creative Directors: Sam Oliver & Carl Broadhurst AD Producer: Jacob Stitzel Production Company: Reset Managing Director: Dave Morrison Executive Producers: Deannie O'Neil & Jen Beitler Head of Production: JP Colombo Producer: Megan Moore Director of Photography: Mauro Chiarello Director’s Assistant: George Daniell Casting: Majo Gallardo Costume Designer: Nayeli de Alba
Production Service Company: The Lift Producer: Fuad Abded Managing Director: Avelino Rodriguez Production Manger: Israel González Cadena Unit Manager: Vladimir Espinoza Production Coordinator: Liliana Huacuja APOC: David Carretero Script: Andrea Eduardina Key PA: Juan Tovar Production Assistants: Erick Ávila, Miguel Luna, Isaac Alvarez Runner: Paulina Camacho Chaperone: Paulina Marín Chaperone: Paulina Maqueda Locations Manager: Sergio Aguilar Locations Assistants: Itzia Rojas, Rodrigo López, Eduardo Gutierrez, Andrés Macías, Juan Chávez
1st AD DGA: Robert Phillips 1st AD: Sandra Mayerstein 2nd AD Vala Cárdenas 2nd AD: Lorenza Ramos 1st AC Horacio Vega 2nd AC: Adonay Meza Camera PA: Edson Reyes DIT: Julio Cesar Gonzalez Data Manager: Hayde Medina Corona VTR Operator: Jonathan Fernando Noriega Hernández VTR Assistants: Eduardo Martinez & Miguel Valdez Wheels Operator: Felipe Pérez-Burchard Steadicam Operator: Gerardo Manjarezz Trinity Operator: Niels Lindelien Gaffer: Leonardo Julián Key Grip: Juan Antonio Aguilar López Key Grip: Jose Marcos Vilchis VFX Supervisor: Daniel "Chovy" Cordero VFX Assistants: Rafael Santana Cruz & Francisco Ruben Perez Reyes
Production Designers: Robin Brown & Margarita Laborde Hair & Make Up: Chela Olea Hair & Make Up Assistants: Yoali Cortés, Ixchel Cortés Stunt Coordinator: Tomas Guzman Art Coordinator: Katia Duarte Propmaster: Diego Téllez Decorator: Melinda Ridaura Decorator: Sandra Jalife Art Assistant: Jessica Peralta Wardrobe Coordinator: Giselle Arriaga Wardrobe Assistants: Rodrigo Montoya, Paulina Regalado, Christian Fernando, Rocelia Alexandra Graphic Design: Mireya Guerrero Renders: Hugo Jiménez Swings: Daniel Hernández, Jesús Enriquez, Aldo Márquez, Juan Cisneros, Néstor Luna, Luis Hernández, Gabriel Cabrera.
Edit Company: Whitehouse Post, Los Angeles Editor: Tobias Suhm Executive Producer: Joanna Manning Post Producer: Jordan Stricklin
VFX Company: Framestore VFX Supervisor: James Rogers Senior Producer: Joe Greenberg Art Director: Carlos Vidal Lead Data Wrangler: Fabio Zapata Data Wrangler: Juan Colon Coordinator: Evan Kanter
CAST Kid in car: Ariella Covalin-Mizarahi Metro Guy: Shu Sakimoto
Chef & Waiters: Jack Morris Jean Wolf Allison Vargas
Taco Stand: Mariana Arias Emme Gonzalez Paulina Camacho Oscar Sagrado Raphael De Cecco Ivan Modragon Christian Godoy Miguel Angel
Airplane: Heidy Diaz
Popcorn Eaters: Micah Bijon Charlie Scovill
Clothes Guy: Rick Darge Bus Shelter: Yuki Oc-Noda
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Our ever popular mini-tournament format is in full GenCon mode as some of your favorite Komedio kids defend their favorite childhood board games! Does "Battleship" have what it takes to blow "Candyland" out of the water? Can "Clue" topple "Jenga?" And who makes it to the finals to claim board game supremacy? Whether you're pulling bricks, sinking ships, or having way too much we stop the recording too soon -- always be ready to RAGE!
Catch Komedio/Nerd Rage: TGD at GenCon on August 4th in Indianapolis, IN!
Produced by Will Scovill & Komedio Comedy Find more episodes of Nerd Rage! The Great Debates at NerdRagePodcast.com
Stay informed on Komedio live shows and podcasts visit Komed.io
✉️ e-Mail us at [email protected] (put “Nerd Rage” in the subject line)
Find us @NerdRageTGD on Twitter or follow us on Facebook for more updates.
Special Guests: Mike Manfrin, Stephen Ku, Tirumari Jothi, and Wonder Dave.
via Nerd Rage! The Great Debates
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On this streaming edition of TALKIES, we're super excited to welcome our featured guests BRI PRUETT, GREG EDWARDS, PETER O’CONNELL & THE PUTERBAUGH SISTERS!
Featuring your hosts -Nick Stargu, Aviva Siegel and George Chen
SPECIAL GUESTS FOR THE ZOOM EVENT:
Greg Edwards Greg Edwards is a fearless comedian from Virginia. Greg moved to San Francisco in 2001 and became a fixture on the Bay Area comedy scene. Greg is known for his distinctive voice, awkward views and social commentary. He's performed at Jamie Foxx's Laffapollozza, SF SketchFest, SF Burrito & Comedy Fest, Riot LA, and clubs and colleges all over California. Greg was awarded the prestigious Dan Crawford Award from the San Francisco Punchline in 2009 and moved to Los Angeles in 2010. Greg has performed at the Laugh Factory, The Comedy Store, The Hollywood Improv, The IceHouse, & all the popular independent shows in LA.
Greg has worked with Dave Chappelle, Paul Mooney, Patrice O'Neal, Damon Wayans, Bill Burr, Charlie Murphy, Maria Bamford, Jim Jeffries, Harland Williams, Bill Bellamy, Deon Cole, W. Kamau Bell and many more outstanding comedians. Most recently, Greg stars as "Sparky Sweets PhD" of the critically-acclaimed web series THUG NOTES, Greg was also in season 1 of Comedy Central's Corporate and also was in Comedy Central's Black Depression video "Demetrinox".
Bri Pruett - Bri Pruett is a stand-up comedian and writer from Portland, Oregon, living in Los Angeles. Her TedxTalk on beauty standards dropped in 2018. In 2017, she was featured on Comedy Central’s Roast Battle. In 2016 she won the Willamette Week reader’s poll for Best Comedian in Portland. Splitsider.com has named her a “comic-to-watch,” and she’s appeared on Dan Savage’s Savage Lovecast, Doug Loves Movies and NPR’s Live Wire. Her live festival appearances include: Bridgetown, SF Sketch Fest, Bumbershoot and more.
Peter Ryan O'Connell -Comedian, Writer, Musician, Producer of Suspenseful Tales of Suspense podcast
The Puterbaugh Sisters - You’ve seen The Puterbaugh Sisters everywhere; featuring at CVS and headlining Walgreens. They have also performed in TBS Just For Laughs Festival Chicago, RIOT LA, Crom Comedy Festival (Omaha), Benzen Ball (D.C., The Kennedy Center) , The Andy Kaufman Awards at Gotham Comedy Club, Top 100 of “Last Comic Standing” Season 9, New York/San Fran/Chicago Sketch Fest and produce a critically acclaimed variety show, “Entertaining Julia,” recently featured at Meltdown Comics in LA.
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***All donations will go to support the performers.***
Talkies is the Bay Area's best unconventional, experimental, and multi-media live comedy event. At Talkies, comedians, writers, improvisers, and performers work outside of their regular routines to push the boundaries of comedy; PowerPoint presentations, characters, and off-stage antics are the order of the day.
Started in the basement of San Francisco’s Lost Weekend Video store, this monthly show has been an incubator for many unique comedy talents spreading their wings on weird flights of fancy. Past guest performers have included Aparna Nancherla, Brent Weinbach, Ron Lynch, Frankie Quinones, Myq Kaplan, Sad Vicious, Calvin Johnson, and Beth Lisick. The show is a regular feature of SF Sketchfest and almost always sells out.
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TALKIES is produced by Nick Stargu, Aviva Siegel, George Chen and Will Scovill
#Greg Edwards#bri pruett#Peter O'Connell#Puterbaugh Sisters#Nick Stargu#DJ Real#Aviva Siegel#George Chen#Will Scovill#zoom comedy
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斯科维尔指数:这辣椒有多辣?
食物历史学家Dave DeWitt在1974年搬到新墨西哥州的时候还是个辣椒小白。现在人送外号“辣椒教皇”的他在那个时候连哈瓦那辣椒和新墨西哥辣椒都分不清,而且哪一种都不敢吃。
当初来乍到的DeWitt和几位新朋友一起享用一碗热气腾腾的绿辣椒炖菜时……呃,脑袋里响起了警报。在很多方面都是。
DeWitt说:“在新墨西哥州,几乎所有菜都是辣的。他们想要辣死我,看看我到底吃多少辣。我被辣的狂出汗,但我不得不去学着享受辣的食物。”后来他撰写了50多本书,包括《辣椒百科全书:你想知道的关于辣椒的一切,还有超过100个菜谱》以及《1001道最棒的麻辣菜谱:美味、方便、囊括全球》。
带来火辣
首先我们要说清楚:一种食物的辣度完全取决于个人。把一个人辣的眼泪鼻涕横流的食物可能对另外一个人来说是毛毛雨。但是,在把辣椒放入嘴前,能了解什么是辣的以及什么是不辣的也是有帮助的。
这就要提到斯科维尔指标了。它是用药剂师Wilbur Scoville的名字命名的,这一指标是于1912年被提出,用于衡量会导致类似于灼烧感的化学物质——辣椒素。
起初,这个指数只不过是种味觉测试。研究人员收集一分样本,然后稀释到察觉不到辣味,再进行测量。这一过程叫斯科维尔感官测试,有着局限性。根据新墨西哥州立大学的农业、消费者和环境科学学院:
用这一方式来衡量辣度仍很主观,而且取决于品尝者的味蕾和对辣椒素的敏感度。此外,品尝者在一段合理的时间内能品尝多少份样本也有着严重的限制。
“按照我们的标准,这不是很科学,”DeWitt说,“但在那时,他们也没有别的方法。”
斯科维尔指数的原理
如今,科学家会提取出含有辣度的化学物质,然后通过高效液相层析来测量它们的“刺激性”。相对的“辣”是用斯科维尔辣度单位(SHU)来衡量的。它是衡量食物辣度的主要方式。
比如柿子椒的斯科维尔辣度为0。吃掉一个柿子椒不会让你眉头紧蹙狂灌水。但那可是斯科维尔指数的绝对底线。从这往上,事情就开始有意思了。
墨西哥辣椒(Jalapeños)对许多人来说挺辣,这种辣椒相对处于斯科维尔指数的下层(辣度大约5000SHU)。再往上是哈瓦那辣椒、卡宴辣椒以及塔巴斯科辣椒。想要来个真正的冒险,可以试试全世界最辣的辣椒卡罗莱纳死神。死神辣椒的辣度大约为200万SHU,比你花园里种的墨西哥辣椒要辣上175至880倍。
如果你会疑惑怎么会有人去吃那么辣的东西也是合情合理的。
“我认为有点精神成瘾的成分。喜欢吃辣的人会一直吃。他们很少会戒辣。你不会听见有人说,‘我以前爱吃辣,现在改回清淡口儿了’,”DeWitt说,“他们会一直坚持自己喜欢的东西。食物中的辣味能给他们带来某种刺激。”
辣和味道
在他第一次品尝完绿辣椒炖菜之后,DeWitt上瘾了。他产生了浓厚的兴趣并成为了一名多产作家。他现在还要管理辣味食物和烧烤中心,运营Burn博客以及每年的斯科维尔奖。
辣椒成为了他的生命。
这并不是说DeWitt成了超辣食物和酱料的热衷粉。他说有一些是不错的,有些不行。个人来说,他比较偏爱斯科维尔指数里处于中层辣度的食物。
"有些辣酱是用辣椒油树脂做的,已经变成了油性物质……巨特么的辣,但是没有什么味道。在我看来,那是种非常廉价的辣,”他说,“得有味道才行。这是斯科维尔指数衡量不出的关键元素。味道。”
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Bowers on collecting: Help me with a mystery!
I enjoy numismatic research. The more obscure the subject, the better.
Hover to zoom.
Puzzling me for a long time is the 28 millimeter token with COLL BRANDON & CO, 2 ½ Cts. ASPINWALL on one side and a railroad train on the other.
Aspinwall is the old name for what today is the city of Colon on the Atlantic side of the Isthmus of Panama. The train is the Panama Railroad, a narrow-gauge line opened in 1855 to connect Panama City on the Pacific coast with Aspinwall.
These tokens are not particularly rare, and I have traced several dozen of them in auctions over a long period of years. Many are overstruck on other coins or tokens, such as large copper cents and Canadian tokens (the illustrated token is over a Canadian bank halfpenny). They were made by the Scovill Manufacturing Company in Waterbury, Connecticut. Why so many are overstrikes is one mystery.
A larger mystery involves the tokens and their use. I have never seen a worn one. Were they used in commerce? Who or what was Coll Brandon & Co.? One account has it that these tokens were used to pay workers on the Panama Railroad. Another suggests that the issuer was a tavern in Aspinwall, and these were used for drinks. My search on the Internet has not turned up any specific information regarding the issuer.
If you have any knowledge to share I invite you to contact me at [email protected].
All good wishes,
Dave Bowers
❑
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Put Me down for a San Fran. Enhanced Reverse Proof TBD ? What ... by KEITHSTER
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MI6-Hundred Thousand Scoville Heat Units, Or, The Heat It Takes to Make an M
Summary: MI6 is full of survivors. The new M, Gareth Mallory, should fit right in.
Notes: This little fic touches on surviving torture and PTSD survival. If you're struggling with that sort of thing, be kind to yourself and find another ficlet to cuddle up with. It isn't graphic at all, but I wanted to put out the warning.
Thanks!Still finding my way through the 007-verse. Hope you enjoy the little journey. :)
“Miss Moneypenny,” M said, voice quiet but firm as he flipped through the stack of documents in his hand. “I’m afraid something has come up and I won’t be able to meet with the department heads for the breakfast meeting tomorrow. I believe I have an opening Thursday afternoon, if you’d be kind enough to see to it.”
Nimble fingers were already checking the computer and sending out his apologies. Not that he needed to apologize, but it was the done thing. “Yes, sir. The department heads have been notified, and if any of them have conflicts…” He raised an eyebrow and Moneypenny ground to a halt. “Yes, sir. I will make sure they know that this takes priority. Is there anything else?”
M finished flipping through the papers in his hand, pulled a pen out and scribbled his initial on a few lines and passed them across the mahogany surface. “No thank you, Moneypenny. That will be all for now.”
He sighed as he passed back into his office and closed the door. Another bullet dodged.
***
Where was the chili oil?
“You do understand, M, that these agents of yours don’t actually have a license to run roughshod over the law. They have to answer to someone.”
And that someone will never be you. As M, his was the last word when it came to his agents and he wasn’t about to pass them over to some bean counter who had never sacrificed a day in his life for Queen and country.
He raised a finger to get the attention of their server. “Chili oil, please.”
The server gave a tiny bow and turned with an, “Of course, sir.” before disappearing into the back of the restaurant. Across the white linen tablecloth, the MP he was ignoring began to notice that he was being ignored.
“I say, surely you realize…”
M cut him off with a raised finger. “Surely you realize that what my agents do, or do not do, is my purview, and ultimately, mine alone. The legality of their actions is defined much more stringently than the actions of MPs, such as yourself, or even the PM herself. If you have a problem with something that one of my people has done, you are by all means welcome to lodge a complaint through the proper channels. Oh good, here it is—” He looked up at the server carrying the small container of chili oil with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
The server dissolved in the way that excellent servants did—only visible when needed, and never when not—and he began to douse the white fish he’d been served liberally, and the man across the table raised both eyebrows in astonishment.
“You’re not going to eat that?” The MP cleared his throat and lowered his voice, apparently a little embarrassed to have been so caught off guard as to blurt something out like that.
“You’d be surprised,” was all M replied, finally raising his fork to his mouth and tucking into his luncheon with satisfaction.
***
“Santa Baby, slip the sable under the tree, for me…” 004 serenaded the office party with his best torch singer’s voice, wiggling a feather boa at anyone who got close enough for him to tease, “I’ve been an awful good girl, Santa Baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight.”
“Been just awful, you mean,” another voice piped up from the back of the room, clear as a bell. “How many explosions on your tally, so far? If I remember correctly, two more and you’ll pass 006.” Q’s face was pink from a little too much holiday cheer, but he still had Q-Branch under control. Thankfully. His minions got stroppy quickly if things went wrong, but Q always seemed to know how to calm them.
Like Hagrid and his pets. Now wasn’t that a picture?
M pushed his way further into the room and paused where everyone could see him. Startling a group studded with 00 agents was never a good idea.
“Happy Christmas to you all!” He smiled as broadly as was acceptable for a member of upper management and raised his laden arms. “Father Christmas was busy, so I told him I’d drop this lot off.”
Several of the Q-Branch staffers skittered forward and helped him set down the gifts he’d brought, his smile a little less forced as he watched them happily digging through of the packages. He didn’t go in for the departmental Secret Santa gift exchanges—he always thought it ironic that spies loved spying on each other under the auspices of figuring out the perfect gift—but he was no Scrooge, and he appreciated his people. They sacrificed more than most would ever be aware of, and even though they chose the life, that didn’t make their sacrifices any less important.
“Just the man we were hoping to see,” came a voice from the corner. 007 was lounging against the corner of a desk, looking for all the world like Q Branch had been tailored to fit him like one of his damned suits. He waved a tumbler of what was probably very good scotch at Q, and the younger man nodded.
“Masters,” he said, “would you pop into my office and grab the box on the corner of my desk? It should have a tag on it.”
The young blond fellow hopped up, disappearing into Q’s office for a moment and returning with an enormous basket with a red bow and an index card with a big green M on it.
“This is for you, I guess, sir,” he said, handing M the basket with a nod and a smile before plopping back at his desk and resuming his conversation.
M looked down into the basket expecting his typical bottle of rum, if they’d realized that was his preference, or whiskey if they were still shopping for the old M. Not that he minded. Some nights, whatever was available was fine.
That wasn’t the case, though. Instead of alcohol—or, actually in addition to alcohol, because there was indeed a pair of bottles of Pusser’s in the bottom—but on top, there was… well, there was so much it was almost overwhelming.
He recognized hot British mustard, and a jar of Calabrian pepper sauce. There was Szechuan chili oil, and hot pickled giardiniera. There was even a bright red bottle of something called Dave’s Insanity Sauce.
He picked the last up out of the basket and looked at the little tag on it. From: Felix Leiter—with the CIA’s apologies to your stomach.
All the bottles had tags. Most were from 00’s. One, with a handwritten label, was from Moneypenny. There was even a box of spicy chili laced chocolates with a tag that said, “Life isn’t worth living without chocolate –Happy Christmas from Q-Branch.”
He looked up and noticed the three best, or worst, of his charges had crossed the space to stand before him.
Bond swallowed a mouthful of scotch and nodded to the chaotic pile of condiments. “Alec tried to sneak in a salt-shaker full of gunpowder—he tried it one very memorable weekend in Siberia—but we convinced him that we didn’t actually want to poison you.”
M nodded. “I appreciate that. Truly.”
Moneypenny grinned. “One of those is my grandmother’s spicy pickapeppa sauce, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Q use it as a degreaser in the lab, so be warned.”
Q shuddered. “That stuff should be weaponized. Wait. I could….”
“Q!” Moneypenny punched him lightly in the shoulder and they shared a grin.
M stared at the little group, and then realized the other 00’s were watching them from their spots around the room.
Bond raised a shoulder. “We hope you don’t mind, but it was important to us,” he nodded, “to all of us, that we do this first Christmas right. We know we aren’t the most welcoming bunch.”
Q snorted into his drink, and 007 threw him a dry look. “Most of us had a love/hate relationship with your predecessor, and unfortunately you got the brunt of it after Skyfall.”
M shifted the basket in his hands, trying to think of what to say. He couldn’t think of anything.
Moneypenny took pity on him. “After a month and a half of rescheduling breakfast meetings, it became pretty obvious that they were never going to work for some reason.”
Q nodded. “I, for one, am very grateful for that fact—who wants to deal with bureaucracy before they’ve even had their tea—but, still. Knowing that it was a thing, didn’t explain what it was, or why.”
007 met his eye and they shared a look of understanding. “It wasn’t hard for the agents to figure out. You aren’t one of us now, but you were once—or at least close enough for government work.” They all laughed at that, and Bond went on. “All the 00’s have things we avoid. I swear Alec would shoot someone if they tried to feed him borscht.” He looked grim. “Six weeks of eating nothing but rotten beets, and those rarely…” he didn’t say anymore. He didn’t need to.
Mallory had spent three brutal months in the hands of the IRA, and they’d left their mark. Or marks. He’d found that the scars could be explained away, but the horror he felt at the scent of gluey oats, or the panic he felt at the smell of over-boiled cabbage and spoiled potatoes. He’d been starved enough to eat anything, and then sick as a dog when he did. It changed a man.
He looked around the room and felt closer to the 00’s than he ever had. It changed all of them.
Q raised his glass, “So, we decided that this year our Christmas mission was to make sure that, you, as our new M—who is now stuck with us, for better or for worse—never ran out of what it takes for you to do the job. Whatever it happened to be. Even,” he picked up a cut glass jar full of candy and tilted it so he could read the label, “habanero flavored jellybeans.”
M nodded once, firmly, and shifted the weight of his present a little awkwardly, as yet unable to find his tongue. Luckily, Moneypenny had no such problem.
“Now,” she reached in with a grin and grabbed the Pusser’s before heading back towards the rest of the partygoers. “Who’s going to let me show you how to make a proper Painkiller? Anyone?”
Q smiled and raised his glass in a little toast before sidling away, just leaving M and Bond.
“Happy Christmas,” Bond paused. “M.”
He looked at the other man and recognized the compliment in the use of his title.
“Happy Christmas yourself, 007. And thank you.”
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