#you and me op we may be twinning in the fucked up but my nails slay. sorry im sure urs do too

[chidoroki]

Tokyo Revengers S3EP1

aka: city wide brawling

So the OP song is the same as last season but the visuals changed? I'm not too bothered by it but I would've loved another great song. The boys already looking so good too. Very excited to see more of Smiley and Angry and hopefully I can learn their names properly now.

Aww, Emma looked so pretty in that one shot.

Oh, that one captain of Toman whom I dunno the name of.. does he switch sides? That scene of him getting up from the chair with that pissed off look on his face ain't giving me good vibes.

I'm like 95% certain that Inui eventually cooperates with us while Koko doesn't and that moment with the both of them with the former disappearing from the latter's side sorta reinforces that idea in my mind.

Oh, yup, that Toman captain (Yasuhiro. I was good and looked him up) joins Tenjiku, with Sanzu right behind him too I think. I guess I should've seen that coming, which means Toman loses its fifth division captain and vice captain.

This fight looks insane already. My boy Chifuyu putting in work, Inui looking so unbothered while kicking ass and Kakucho nailing Takemichi with a heavy hit oh my god.. and that moment of Izana running up on Mikey with crazy eyes is definitely creepy.

I try my best to avoid spoilers, honestly, but Mikey and Izana have some sorta history, don't they? like, family related or whatever. And I'm so not looking forward to what may happen with Emma, if it happens this season.

Anyways, lemme actually start this episode.. and we're starting right where we left off, thank god.

“Takemichty, your mind can't even begin to fathom me.” Bro, my mind can't comprehend you either and I hate it. How can Kisaki just jump around to different gangs and reach an authority status so easily, like the hell is so special about you dude?

Hanma riding in on a bike sporting purple leopard patterns.. what an icon.

YO! Mochizuki! Can you not drag my precious boy like that?? And toss him through the air like a sack of potatoes?? I hope Chifuyu kicks his ass during the upcoming battle.

Tenjiku is already brawling with Toman's second division somewhere else? That's Mitsuya's division, yea? Oh dear.

Ain't no way the twins come rushing in by running over all the Tenjiku members with their bikes!! Seeing Smiley all happy like that is hilarious!

Angry doesn't play around, holy shit, his punches are deadly!

Okay okay, so Angry is Souta and Smiley is Nahoya, but if even their intros call 'em by their nicknames I just might do the same, although that'll just lead me to forget their real ones quicker.

Ah damn, so the twins had beef with Mocchi way before their Toman days huh? Alright, either one of them can get revenge on that dude. That's fine.

The twins are insane but I love them already. Well, I know they've been around since the first season, but finally seeing them more is great.

“What if Kisaki can also travel through time?” I'm not completely certain about him but I do know Takemichi isn't the only one capable of doing so at least.

Oohhh Takemichi is through playing games. That's such an angry and determined face!

I know it won't ever happen, but the fact that killing Kisaki has never been brought up as a viable option to stop this chaos is incredible.

Yuuupp, I knew Mitsuya was involved in that brawl happening far away, but at least he's landing a couple nice hits on Mocchi.

Okay what the fuck Ran?? Knocking Mitsuya down with a damn cement block. What cheap stunt.

“Sorry about the cheap shot.” OH well at least he's self aware!!!

I've seen how loved the Haitani brothers are so I'm interested to find out why, though I don't think causing harm to Toman is ca contributing factor..

Mhhhmm I know nothing about Shion aside from this little scene that was teased in trailers but he's intense.. and apparently he was the ninth gen leader of Black Dragon. That's terrifying.

I got a feeling the info the twins forced outta those two Tenjiku dudes was just bait, because if Kakucho is there then that's certainly not good.

I mean, it's nice he sent the swarm of Tenjiku guys away, but I doubt Kakucho is gonna struggle fighting a 1v4 either.

“First Division’s Captain means you’re the toughest of all of you, right?” “Uh, actually, that’s not really true. He fights with his kindness, not his fists.” Glad Chifuyu said what everyone was thinking.

Crazy to think all these fights are happening everywhere between Toman and Tenjiku while Manjiro and Inaza are just chilling by the sea..

So.. they didn't already know each other? Odd. Perhaps they don't remember one another?

That punch of Takemichi's really knocked down Kakucho so hard he's having a serious flashback.. or Takemichi is anyways.

Wait a damn minute, they knew each other in second grade?? Hello???

“You were my hero.” Another one huh?

“Beware of a traitor.” Well thanks to the OP I got a hunch on who two might be. Maybe.

[buffystylez-blog]

Bad Eggs

Directed by: David Greenwalt

Written by: Marti Noxon

Starring: Sarah Michelle Gellar, Alyson Hannigan, Nicholas Brendon, Anthony Head, Charisma Carpenter, David Boreanaz, Kristine Sutherland, Jeremy Ratchford, and James Parks

Welcome to Episode Twelve, in which Buffy’s mum tries to teach Buffy about responsibilities like going to the library and picking up clothing.

And speaking of clothing:

Outfit 1

This is probably something I found boring as a teen but have probably worn to work as an adult.

I think I’d even wear Joyce’s outfit.

This matching of the eye colour to her shirt is wonderful. I’ve started using purple eye colour again and I feel pretty great about it. The hair is good. It seems like she has foils. Or were they still streaks? Were foils a new thing?

Outfit 2

Buffy missed the class where they get eggs and have to pretend they’re babies. I never had to do this in my high school, but weirdly felt left out because of all the times this was used in TV and books. I’m sure the Wakefield twins had to look after eggs.

Luckily she didn’t miss this beautiful jumper. I recently bought a fluffy pink jumper from a local op shop and I. Bloody. Love. It.

Brown pants again. I guess we loved them.

Hair is good.

Even in a low pony. Damn her. I’m assuming she’s just added a jacket for slaying. If I’m wrong, well... I don’t really care.

Outfit 3

CUTE PYJAMA ALERT.

I love a floral pyjama. I also love a paisley pyjama. I also just love pyjamas.

During the night the egg starts this bullshit and it kind of looks like my avocados.

They’re all called Algernon. We have a couple at work as well. Sadly they do not grow an endless supply of avocados. If only. Then we might have our smashed avocado and own a house too.

This kind of reminds me of those Sticky Hands toys.

Source: Alibaba.com

If these are anything like Sticky Hands, they’ll stick against some windows for a bit and then get fluff and dust all over them and get put in a bin.

Outfit 4

Buffy and Willow seem to have had a rough night. This may explain this look from Buffy. It’s... a lot of aubergine.

The burning question I had about these egg assignments was where they got the perfectly shaped baskets from.

I remember the jokes in this episode being pretty strong. I don’t have a strong memory of this outfit.

Outfit 5

This particular slayer patrol/make-out session begins with discussion of their future and ends with a tombstone. FORESHADOWING.

This is a cute necklace.

The egg has started its bullshit early.

I love that when faced with some nightmare insect creature even the slayer uses whatever is handy to kill it.

Good choice. Both weapon and nail colour.

CUTE PYJAMA ALERT.

Outfit 6

I feel like this is something I hated as a teen. I don’t know if I hate it now. I think the pants probably seemed too short to me. I do like the plaid. I would definitely wear Willow’s outfit any time.

I find it very hard to believe these three women are going to the same place.

I know Cordelia would hate to think she was wearing something from two years ago but she’s channelling Clueless with this and it is classic.

Pretty sure Danny Strong is credited for the first time as Jonathan in this episode.

So Buffy’s been having some troubles with these vampire douchebags, Lyle and Tector Gorch, who look like the below:

One is James Parks, son of Michael Parks. Michael Parks sadly passed away this year. You may remember James and his father as the detectives in Kill Bill vol 1. The other is Jeremy Ratchford, who was in Cold Case.

The eggs are up to a lot of bullshit. They’re basically the spawn or whatever of this big alien thing in the school’s basement and it’s using the spawn or whatever to control people and make them do shit for it, I guess.

The James Parks one is eaten by the alien thing and then Buffy is almost eaten by it too but kills it from the inside.

The Jeremy Ratchford one doesn’t like the Carrie energy coming from Buffy and, sensing she is more than a match for him, promptly fucks off. Personally, I feel like there’d be more blood. Or ink.

Outfit 7

I’m assuming this is some training gear she had stashed in the library. It’s fine.

I guess I like that Buffy is comfortable enough around Angel to wear trackies in front of him. Too bad shit is about to get VERY UNCOMFORTABLE.

Next up, a surprise for Buffy. It’s… Not great.

Until next time, Slayerettes.

Screencaps from screencapped.net

[trappz]

[intro, i’m on a megabus as it makes its way down the west coast of england. it set out from glasgow and will land in london. i'm typing this letter to a friend using my phone]

YOU

There is a sign opposite me that says: PLEASE MIND YOUR HEAD. And I don't know what that means

You tuned to the moon? I suspect.

Language in full swoon of trying to Make truth not trysts and uncover in one life what another might have missed.

I FELL through the floor of reality Sunday night. Mind scudding over water in a boat. I got my hair wet but the rest of me stayed dry. Life of a fish. Life of two twins. Life of a goat. Hope you had fun. I'm going to carry two way radios or increase massively my powers of surveillance in order to not lose you as soon as I've found you next dance. Because i madly enjoy making mad enough to animate life with joyful mania. And I suspect you're quite mad glad and can dance it out too. Fuckit the only thing I can herein say IN HERE, IN THE CYBERNETIC BOX which substitutes life with meagre feels for agency, is small prods of preference, hummus nuggets of information. Humming and harring to the rhythm of vision under greasy stamp of digits on cell phone screens. But, listen. If I can only write you mad letters of life then mad letters you shall get. But increasingly i am tired of wee words laying so far adrift of the fullness and ecstatic futility of the everyday, out there where the people cluster like exclamation marks in the streets. And I love DOING. More than ever. Listen. There is a wind bending back grasses and the mixing of two waters out where the creeks of fresh water meet the great surly slap of salt sea. There are horses confusing children, children confusing adults with jammy hands and teeth coloured in with flurescant markers. There are whole tribes of these people. Some find truth by being told. Others lose nothing of experience by robing it with second hand facts, but making self education by slapping their tongues off the paving stones and lampposts of world cities to make their own ditties of comparison to show why one city might taste gritty whilst another bites of SunKissedOranges

"Variations in the Taste and texture of street furniture in many countries."Published by Harper. 4 star reviews. Author photo. Pull quote. £RRP.

Explanations expanding the differences in tastes will hinge on the environmental factors of the Spanish post box or Russian drain cover. The pavement in Sevilla tastes acrid, like orange juice mixed with piss and dust and sweat. The tang of the street drains in soho is slightly more salty than other districts in London, and the book puts this down to the heightened sexual activity in the district, and as you now pass the men in the streets of soho you look at them with this new thought, wondering which of these people may take time to make secrets pockets in their day in which they crouch down and release semen onto the streets of the city - the less wordy fully alive part of you shortens the laugh, gans "here man, who is it who's spaffing on drains?" Read all about it Coming soon Please mind your head

Thoughts of a man considering how he might continue to expand explorations of sensations, movements, rhythm, eloquence, and grace in one fast, vast and fully felt global race of radical improbabilities. If the route to truth can be passed on by licking seams and slabs of the streets, what other treats might we use to unfold life's explanations. Hold up.

Outside is now bright yellow leaves still new to the sun. We just overtook an M&S lorry and it made a hum like nails on chalk or a refrigerator spaceship with you small outside, as it hurtles past, as vast as it is slow. FLOW. END OF PART TWO. STILL GOT RHYTHM GONNA GO ON. DONT STOP CANT STOP THIS SONG. Spring is wrapped over the land with a fresh sheen that has not yet been taken out of its box. The new leaves gleam on stark limbs of the trees, backlit. Trees look like jellyfish when they glow so. And big seaweeds when the sun is gone and in the wind they thrash. And sound like cymbals as the drops of rain crash down and print spring's rejuvenated refrain on all different parts.

Right so, shall we tell you a story? I'll just imagine you say yes at this point, because you are not here but for a glowing iPhone screen and some hills out the window like bags of sugar and which are sat on by an angular factory which breathes out puffs of silver. What makes such silver smoke? Why all the factory's long angled conveyor belts? Well without smell even, and from this distance, it does not take genius skills of observation to see that the silver smoke from the factory chimneys must be fine huffs of fish scales. This you see, is a fish finger factory. And complicit in the conspiracy which keeps you from discovering that wild fish have fingers. The fish they were ashamed. They bought all kinds of products to cover up their dexterity. Huge industry emerged to make them feel "more beautiful" if they hid those bits. And aspiration mixed with ashamedness to create a colossal mess in which no fish could face the anxiety of another animal seeing those unsightly fingers and so when even the tip of the top products for anti finger scale smoothing cream failed to perform as rapidly as was wanted they turned to plastic surgery. This created a surge in surgeries and doctors which soon scaled from small Clinics to big factories. And they realised they could sell the discarded limbs as food to humans and instead of fish having to pay for the surgery for finger removal, the cost of the procedures could be billed to the human consumers and keep their profit making industry in work in perpetuity. This created employment and was thus a social good. And so compulsory finger removal surgery, free of charge, was introduced for all fish at 18 weeks of age. But they have a lot of surface area do fingers, and lots of area equals lots of scales. so hence the silver puffs of smoke from the chimneys of the fish finger factory which is sat on some hills that look like bags of sugar that we just passed. And now a sign saying HIGHWAYS AGENCY framed by mud stomping bovine and in the background a girl with midnight blue eyes is yelling: "weren'tevenanycharactersmate Youcallthatafuckkkin story ?!? Andwheresthebeginningmiddlendthingandwelliwontevenaskaboutchapters" Settle.

anything's a good excuse to keep exploring and expanding and things are going burst every moment like a million billion berries being stamped into fresh juice. I want to do. So if you want to do to just say and then hurrays can unfurl without delay of words words words words words [servant to FOOHAMLET: ] "what do you read my lord?" [FOOHAMLET:] "words words words words words" actions are good. Set me a challenge. I can see the sea silver on the skyline and windmills and I want to go listen to all of it yell and tell nothing back but SWELL YEAH OK KEEP BLOWING THAT ETERNAL UNKNOWING NATURE. end of part three. Words have taken us nearly halfway out our tree. On the motorway passing Wepaintanything.biz. Anything? Let's see you paint paint. And by now we've reached Lancaster uni. Verdant synthetics.

Christ are you keeping up with this?

Is Preston ever a shithole. Even in the sun. Reminds me of too many places I have been trapped in. An English Dundee? I am being prejudice beyond what just this demands and far flung from fairness. Maybe it's lovely. Maybe i only resent having idled at this megabus stop in Preston so many times at every hour of the day. Every time I abandon suspicions and hold up my hands and say I don't know, that's when life rewards me. Sooth out the sinners. Growl with the  grinners. Got the front seat of a double decker to myself. Wealth of vision. I am watching a man on the roundabout to Preston high street kick an empty beer can then stamp it. Ghost fist fight cars. He nearly was hit by one. He has now armed himself with a stick. he holds the stick at a stern steady angle towards the cars, demonstrating his readiness. En guard. The bus has moved. Did I really see a commemorative plaque to Britain's first motorway bypass in gold letters with potted geraniums like floppy geriatrics painted in toothpaste ontop? Preston precisely. Treats of individuality trick us against greater treats of shared humanity. Too easy to be a sneak peek sneering at what others take as engine oil. All is all and every spoke gives us hope. You can rarely make a wheel from just one individual. Drink yer own juice. Where are we anyway? I want doesn't exist just do. You, my friend are beautiful. Oh get to fuck the hooks of words just written down. I would rather have them in speech with all meanings entreated beyond each word with the tricks that only speech can leap. Ok. Herd. Heard. Hair'd laird. A long haired boy and a dog, Float down river On a log, 12+ (mild nudity)

Opposite to my right sits a fellow lord of a front seat. He is lord Neptune. With rings on fat fingers and ink wreathed round bald skull, metal curling from his nose forehead ears. And when the bus decelerates to come to a roundabout he mutters into the newly made silence. Maybe he is cursing it away, for his incantations of splutters and grumbles end when the mumbles of the bus pick up again. Later on lord Neptune pulls a can of spray out of a co-op mid-range semi-durable placcy bag and douses his crotch in it. And as the acrid hing of imitation lynx begins to clear you dearly hope he ain't shat himself. And simply stupid questions that can only go: "well how are you" "yeah alright, so: new episode of the grime on tonight." And "oh yes, did you see last week's?" BUT trying is necessary and always admirable.

clumped clouds above are huge pieces of clotted water held above gravity, mixing with light. They're white and bulge, and with the right kind of eyes you can watch those huge slabs of water move, grooving smooth movements no different to the way that ripples move over the surface of the sea, but in scale massive and at a speed reduced. So you throw time as a constant out of the window and let your body relax and your eyes fast forward the progression so that the clouds up above you look just like the waves coming in, seen from below, you're on the sea floor, and up above is just the texture of the water from below as it slaps and spills, and behind it, above it somewhere, some great light that we get just thin hints of shines through. And the trees like seaweed weave and some smaller clouds like fishes swim and despite the motorway this is an octopuses garden. Inexplicably lord Neptune now wears reading spectacles to look at a smart phone and is polishing off a selection of ringed and foil wrapped biscuits. Bus stumbles. He grumbles. passengers revise their hopes with the demise of momentum and the white noise of rain steps in and all the sky is grey downward skyscrapers of wet. Bus starts up. Rain white noise louder. Cuts out in a deafening sudden silence for a half second under every bridge. Landscape now drumkit for the blind. Trees each leafy cymbals. And what symbols does the breath of restless spring foliage frolicking against one another in thrashing wind branches entrance on the entrances to your understanding. What things make us feel how we do. Do things impose feelings or do feelings come up from a deeper place always constant and true ETC. Between breaths are only laughs. You are lightning conductor for everyone's emotions. Sit lap laugh under tree. Be smooth enough to appease them growling. Quick enough that they can't jump over you. See it through. Life's only getting weirder. And I am keen for it. END OF PART FOUR. CONFUSION. WHERE ARE WE. WHAT HAVE WE GLEANED? IS THE HARVEST IN BEFORE THE RAIN. DO WE BELIEVE IN REFRAINS OR IN THE COLOUR BLUE. ARE ALL WORDS STICKY. OR STUCK TO NOTHINK. Please your mind head.

-- Episode 95. Sunset trees of yellow leaves double saturation in setting sun. Eye playing Heart seeing If life is folly, fool. Triple fuck assumptions. Fellow lord of the front seat, his highness Neptune has cranked the tunes from that smart phone of his. Reading glasses not necessary. And now sunset is jaunty regaee fleeing down smooth hills without delay. Life is bright green and bright blue and all grooving. Stoke on Trent is near. What does that mean? Nothing. Moon is up. Days when etc sounds like egg stretcher. DOME why do anything which isn't true?But so many do Limited to thin repeatables that popular stores provide. HERE be what romance, bereavement, the best birthday party ever must look exactly like. Disguise yourself within their restrictions. Buy your life experiences now. Naw. Live outside their lies and lines. Write your own recipe. Instinct GO. Fridge magnets that motivate fish to get fingerless. Boys in highschools with tales of Friday night's fishy fingers Fingals cave and finegann's wake and the sound steak makes when it hits the pavements. I'd like to know what you think about humans. And what specimens you see. And how electricity can run through people when they notice they've noticed one another and adrenaline hoists attention up. Can humans smell emotion or. And a hundred and three things you would never do. And a mini essay (800 words max) on what it means to be true and the ways in which the language of medicine falls between scientific and religious idiom and your thoughts on how such language prejudices affect practice. Top three carnies in Blackpool. Five best trees ever climbed. Time you won against all odds. Last time you really hurt your body. If you have ever crashed a car. If you have a favourite star. If you believe in star signs and if so why. What was the last thing that made you cry. What would the funniest name for a lorry driver be. Do you prefer wasps or nettles stinging knees. Thoughts on limits of athleticism within three legged races and their conspicuous absence from the Olympic program. The first record you bought, the last time you swam and thought you'd sink. Records for dancing (medals, high scores), favourite parks for prancing. A tune. Any tune. similarities between house numbers you've lived at. Last time you fell through a floor. What is valuable but being true. How many flaps. best painted easter egg. Digestions from a megabus. Claps from a running brain. I'm just not sure what to think really. All residents parking round here. Yes they're very strict. Oh I know. What are they like. Yes, but I hope you don't get a ticket. I think it's Wednesdays they're usually around, yes, short fellow with a hat.

All I meant to say is: Hey. How r u?