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ravenadottir · 3 years

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fluffly alphabet: tai

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

first impressions have a big impact on tai. he’s mostly attracted to your eyes, where he believes sincerity and connection reside. a smile that reaches them will definitely win his attention.

beautiful eyes and smile is what catches his eye, but fun and spontaneity is what makes him stay. someone that isn’t afraid to scream laugh or how they look like when they do.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

he wants a big family, at least three kids. of course he understands the responsibility of becoming a parent and that is part of why he wants to give his parents a lot of grandchildren.

he can picture himself throwing a ball with them on a lazy saturday or sunday afternoon, after a late lunch. participating on their lives by helping them with homework and making sure they’re learning the good values he was once taught.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

he’s the big spoon in bear hug. full embrace with those massive arms, and it’s amazing to imagine he’ll pick you up from where you are “for a just minute” of cuddling, whether on the couch or bed.

you can find shelter on his chest while he rests his chin on the top of your head, caressing your arms and holding you close to his body.

of course, from time to time he feels safe in your arms, even if you look like a backpack while spooning him. he loves feeling your warmth and won’t let go of that privilege.

there’s always a smile after a deep breath and i think that’s my favorite part about his cuddling.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

fun!

tai knows how to be romantic and amorous once the occasion calls for it, but his forte is definitely focusing on the fun part of a date. expect water parks, paintball, laser tag. anything that gets physical and you both laughing, chuckling and having the time of your life.

if a date is supposed to be quality time, then having innocent fun with his partner is definitely what moves him.

if you surprise him with such plans, you can actually make his face hurt from smiling.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“you’re my best shot.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

there’s a moment a person realizes they’re in love and keep it to themselves, but for tai, he couldn’t hold it in any longer than a day. it happened the moment he realized you were just like him. all he needed to find was someone that understood size doesn’t matter, fun has to be a part of your relationshp and caring about your friends are one of the most important things.

when he realized he was in love, he almost bursted with the words. and even though he can be impulsive at times, he knew how this particular moment was important, so he planned and rehearsed it a little bit.

just enough to not stutter while telling you how he feels. but he couldn’t wait any longer, and wanted to see how happy you would be knowing there’s someone in love with you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

very! due to his size he can’t risk being too rough. he’s used to having a light touch ever since he found out how dangerous he can be if he’s not careful. you’ll notice it when he plays around by putting makeup on you.

he loves spending some light time doing that, and he’s the kind of gigantic guy that you catch yourself wondering how can someone be so big and so delicate, at the same time?

a very gentle touch when he grazes his thumb on the side of your face while kissing you, or when he’s stroking your arm during a cuddle.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

fingers twined, always. tai thinks that gesture truly represents how entangled you are with each other, and it represents intimacy to him.

he also loves caressing your knuckles with his thumb, and sometimes brush his lips on the back of your hand.

he might even make a comment about how small yours is compared to his, and put his palm against yours, to measure.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

when he saw you walking in that tent, he already knew the damage was done way before. like he said once, your voice had a huge impact on him, and your personality and way of handling yourself were positive first, adorable second, sexy third.

he knew he had to take a shot and it paid off. “my instincts are never wrong. i knew it had to be you.”

and to himself, he thought “damn it, they’re even more beautiful, live. alright, be cool, tai. don’t goof around right away.”

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

mildly jealous. not trusting of others around you, especially when they make advances that would make you feel uncomfortable. but if a boy hits on you and your response is negative, he’s proud of the person he has next to him.

tai has eyes and he can see how energetic and vibrant you are. it’s natural for people to feel attracted to someone so interesting. he wouldn’t be with you if that wasn’t true.

other than that he has no reason to be jealous. the bond you have is the most stable thing he has and he wouldn’t doubt it. in fact he loves walking around with you, holding hands, so people around know you’re together. he’s proud of you.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

he has a way of kissing you that makes the world fade into the background. it’s not only his lips or his tongue. it’s his arms snaking their way to your back, his hands gliding on your neck, hair and face. the heat that emanates from him whenever he suppresses a grunt. it’s in his touch when he’s deep in.

it was mutually started but on his end, he was stunned. he didn’t expect to see so many sparks fly, despite of being entirely enchanted by you.

and when you pulled away from that first kiss, tai simply couldn’t manage how gobsmacked he was. he already felt a strong connection with you in that date, the conversation going so well.

but he was afraid to crush so hard on you if your kiss was that amazing. and it was. and he did.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

he does.

tai is not afraid of letting you know how he feels, at all times. he has so much appreciation for you, he can’t hold back at all, and letting you know was one of the most nervous moments he’d ever had.

he’s the type to dive in without thinking too much, even if it means he might get hurt because of the impulsiveness.

he has no regards for preserving himself when it comes to love. taking a risk has always been part of his agenda, and you were worth it.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

in the villa, sharing a bed together for the first time.

the waterfall was rushed and spontaneous, and you both had a lot of fun, but the feeling of having you protected by him, in such an intimate scenario is what he cherishes the most.

outside of the villa, the first real date you had, where he could show you what a good time actually means while with him. he loves remembering your laughter followed by your playfulness. nothing stays with him more than you having fun together, and it’s his favorite memory.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

tai is not the type to buy everything and spoil.

there’s not a lot of thought behind store presents, according to him. he’s the kind of boyrfriend to give thought out presents, something that can represent an inside joke or a moment of importance between you. he will though bring you some items he makes at pottery class.

i believe one of the first things tai would ask you, on the outside, is about your favorite animal, so he can make one out of ceramic and give it to you, sort of as a lucky charm so you can remember him every time you look at it.

he just knows how much work goes into making one, and he would like to show his love and appreciation through that gesture.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half)

he would probably say orange or yellow. a shade or tone that he says it represents happiness and cheerful energy. that’s how he sees you and if he could attribute a color to you, they would have to have the same meaning.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

‘babe’ is a given, being the most commonly used.

but “beautiful” sums up everything he loves about you, beyond your looks. to him, you’re beautiful on the inside as well, so he likes to remind you of it.

he’ll call you that at all times, and it becomes a habit that he loves. he might even save your number under this pet name.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

vintage rugby cards.

there’s something about cards that throws him back to when he was a child, aspiring to play rugby as a professional career, but it was impossible to actually see himself in that scenario.

the cards remind him anything is possible, and he shouldn’t ever let go of his dreams, as absurd as they might see, to other people.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

takeout. couch. movie.

it’s just the killing combo tai loves so much. snuggling closer under a blanket, while comfortable on the couch, food in hand and remote on the other. i even think tai has some “rainy days” favorites to watch, that he reserves just for those moments.

also, i have a feeling tai likes baking cookies, specifically, so your place smells like fresh baked goods while the rain dashes outside.

spa afternoon.

goofing around in the bathroom while putting face masks on, and taking ridiculous pictures, might be part of his schedule for a rainy afternoon as well.

like i mentioned before, tai has a delicate hand and it’s not farfetched to imagine he likes painting your nails, or toe nails, or both. he takes extra care to not smudge it, and admires his work from afar when it’s done. he focuses very hard, trying to deliver the best work he can.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

tai definitely believes in the power of laughter and clownery. but also, if he can have you talking to him about what happened, he would love to help. being a good listener is one of his many talents, and he’ll insist you vent about what made you saud.

tickling you until you give him information is very possible as well.

he might take your hand and lead you for a walk, while you tell him everything, and when back home, tai might cook. he knows comfort food is one of the best medicine to cheer someone up.

drawing a bath so you can relax is definitely part of his agenda too.

as for him, he goes for a run, alone. he prefers to exercise by himself when he needs a pick me up. however, if you want to make him smile when he comes back, try to make something out of ceramic. if it looks good he’ll be impressed, and if it looks bad, he will lie, saying it’s amazing.

having someone that cares so much, to the point of trying pottery is the reason why he feels better.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

everything! he loves hearing what you have to say about several subjects, no matter what they are.

he likes learning new things and having your input on matters that a couple wouldn’t talk about, usually. at times, he might sound weird by asking you something completely random, but he wants your insight on whatever it is, because he finds you so interesting.

you’re also the first person he tells good news, and the one he avoids when they’re bad.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

from you? getting his shoulders and back massaged. if you’re a gifted singer, he also likes hearing your humming while your hands rub down the tension on his muscles.

by himself: pottery. there’s a reason it became more than a hobby. he does it to stay sane, and would love to share that particular interest with you if you want. but whenever he sits down, ready to turn the pottery wheel on, he already feels much better.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

tai is no stranger to show off his muscles. he definitely does it playfully, and often goofs around about it, but he’s proud of his achievements, body wise. it’s hard work and he won’t shy away from displaying them and be proud.

he also likes showing off what he has accomplished in pottery. there’s no denial someone so big would be a disaster in this scenario. usually, anyway.

he likes being the exception, and the praises people give him. it’s not vain, it’s just a reason to be proud of himself.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

his proposal is not as elaborate as his speech to ask you is. his ideal location would be an empty field, after hours. he would probably slip someone some bribe so you could “jump the fence” and enter the place, having you thinking you’re invading.

i imagine he would warm up to the subject, and when he’s getting to the moment he so desperately wants, the lights will go on, illuminating the whole lawn.

while you’re busy, being shocked and looking around you, he’ll quickly kneel and whip a small box from his pocket. his words might make you chuckle among tears, but that’s how he wants to propose.

as for the wedding, a simple ceremony somewhere sandy and sunny. close friends and family, and food that the guests will remember forever as being the best they’ve ever had.

he won’t settle for less but won’t ask for more.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

there’s a colorful song that reminds me of him, "groove is in the heart” by dee-lite. the energy that goes into that tune has tai written all over. upbeat, fun and always the heart of the party.

and he grew up in the 90′s, so i like picturing his parents dancing in the living room to this type of music, pulling tai by his hand, goofing around together while the colorful videos were on.

but a couple of songs i love to picture him listening to, chilling with someone he loves, carelessly, is “over the rainbow” by israel kamakawiwoʻole. it’s such a chill and hopeful song, but has a light tone to it, and iz’s voice is just so suiting.

or tai being his adorable self, dancing by the sound of “finesse” by bruno mars ft. cardi b.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

yes. he definitely will pull out some stops to make the proposal happen. he can’t wait to make it official and start a life with you.

he’s a romantic at the core of his heart and can’t wait to call you his spouse.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

dog! dog! multiple dogs!

one at a time, but the bigger the better!

tai is very charitable and would like to rescue a dog. one to start. he can already picture your weekends and afternoons during quarantine.

frisbees, sticks, balls, you name it. he went to the pet shop and bought a bunch of them, to train your new companion.

that’s why i also picture him in a house, not a flat. eventually he would want a backyard where he can play with the dog, and in the future, your kids.

#litg tai #litg s3 #litg season 3 #love island the game #litg #fusebox #fusebox games #queue #alphabet

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izukukuzi · 4 years

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Made up titles! Sorry I have a few: 1. What Never Was 2. Worthless Potential 3. Kintsugi Dream 4. Dekiru not Deku 5. What goes around comes around (in unexpected ways) 6. Unburying Truths 7. Misconceptions, Assumptions and Facts

aaaaaaaaaah i’m gonna screaaaaaaam!! thank you, nonnie!!!!

What Never Was: ah so toshinori is in a coma after his fight with all for one (but the evil man is actually dead) and, while he’s in the hospital, he dreams of a little quirkless boy with tree-top colored hair, fairy dust freckles, and a blinding smile. his lives in a created world where he trains the boy, gives him his quirk, and watches him grow into the son that toshi could never have. it’s on the “day” of his son’s graduation that (in the real world) the doctors who are looking over all might tell his mentor (gran torino) and his sidekick (nighteye) that the hero won’t be healing from his injuries, so he won’t be waking up again.

Worthless Potential: hmmmm, maybe bakugou manages to put in all the work needed to debut as a hero just to realize that he absolutely hatesssssssssss it. there’s not enough affirming validation from the media, he can’t cradle the idea of gentleness in his mind enough to be a reassuring presence to those he saves, and he finds that being a hero is less about fighting villains (aka “winning”), and more about standing as a pillar that upholds a standard of safety and compassion (which bk could use a few lessons on debjdbjbdne). so bk has a Whole Existential Crisis at the Big Age of, like, twenty, and realizes that everything he had done to get to this point (and all that amazing potential everyone kept talking about) led him to a goal that never really existed as he envisioned it.

Kintsugi Dream: (Kintsugi: the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage) izuku and his mom stop talking when izu’s career as a hero starts. inko had put her foot down and said that she wouldn’t stand by and watch her son kill himself while pursuing such a dangerous life path, so izuku packs his things and leaves home for good a little after turning eighteen. it’s almost five years later that izu gets a call from his mom where she tells him that she has cancer (but she’s fineeeee! no death for inko debdnndne). izuku takes a leave for the first time since debuting to go home and watch over his mom while she recovers (with the time they spend together helping to repair their broken relationship).

Dekiru Not Deku: aaaaaaah so when everyone is still in elementary school, kirishima and his family move so that he’s transferred into the class that izuku and bakugou are in. izu is still quirkless, everyone still calls him “deku,” but, instead of that scaring eijirou away, HE BECOMES THE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND THAT THE GREEN BEAN DESERVES. kiri steals ochako’s canon spotlight so that he’s the one that redefines the nickname during one of his and izuku’s conversations about their dreams to grow up and become pro heroes (but dekiru would probably be the name izu settles on for his official hero name because of my own petty feelings towards the name “deku”)

What Goes Around Comes Around (In Unexpected Ways): izuku meets... a Random Human, maybe an oc, (15 y/o) when he’s a child (10 y/o) while Random Person is all bruised up in an alley. being the kind, almost naive, soul that he is, izu sneaks them into the house to feeds them/help dress their wounds. the other person heals up enough to sneak out after a few days without telling izu, but the green bean starts carrying around a first aid kit with him and extra food just in case he runs into them again (which he does). they cross paths periodically for a few years until, one day, when izu is fourteen, the other person just disappears. turns out Random Human was sought out by afo because of their quirk and they were morphed into the nomu that shiggy brought with him to usj. when the creature sees izuku, it prompts enough recognition that Random Human fights against the order to hurt izuku and.... (something intense happens afterwards, i just dunno what ejbfjenjnf)

Unburying Truths: oooooooh okay so, among all the notebooks that izuku has, he had used one of them as a journal as he grew up. the last entry he ever wrote was on the day that bk told him to take a swan dive off the roof :/ buuuut somehow, izuku forgets about the journal, though it’s still mixed in with his belongings so, one day shouto asks to use one of the books for an assignment they have in class (and izu trusts his best friend/real rival enough to lend them to him duendnds). things get mixed up so that shouto ends up reading the journal. he flips to and only reads the last entry (so he finds out about what happened between izu and bk) and Todoroki “Ride Or Die” Shouto makes an appearance as bakugou’s worst nightmare :D

Misconceptions, Assumptions, and Facts: one day, randomly, aizawa asks izuku to stay after class so they can talk. maybe they had a paper to write over the social implications of quirks or something like that, and izu wrote such an exceptional paper that it made aizawa reconsider some of the lesson plans he had in mind for the future. he asks for izuku’s input on the things they could cover in class, to which the green bean suggests bringing up quirklessness as an important topic (BECAUSE DAMMIT WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT MORE). cue the Dadzawa and Izuson moment that isn’t necessarily an ofa reveal, but the conversation gives shouta some insight on his Problem Child’s value system, as well as the need to uplift the voices and experiences of the quirkless population.

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watermelonsugawara · 4 years

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I'm sorry if I'm bothering but I loved that Asahi drabble so much I was wondering if maybe I could request 10 with Asahi and a fem!reader? I totally understand if you're not up for it 🥺

im so happy u loved the first one :’))) heres another woooo!

me w every song: I LOVEEEE THIS SONG

bitch I realized they barely fucking speak in these lil drabbles... lol whateverrhrjfhfhd im insecure ab it now

am i projecting my dream of being an art couple w asahi? ya ,,,,,, AND WHAT ABOUT IT

❥ warnings: n/a; its sfw; oh wait like a hint of a timeskip bc of asahi’s career or whatever lol

❥ character: asahi x fem!reader

...

my body by young the giant

my body tells me no, but i wont quit

cus i want more

...

This was probably your favorite way to spend time together. Both of you engulfed in your own personal creations, the room filled with millions of ideas, as well as the chaotic sounds coming from every corner. The subtle whirring of a sewing machine, the sound water splashing on your pottery wheel, and the loud music fills the room. There’s nothing quite like it, feeling a spur of inspiration popping into your brain, you just had to try it out before the fleeting thought became a distant memory.

Asahi lifted his foot from the pedal of his sewing machine and watched as the needle came to a stop. A little snip freed his project from the machine for his careful inspection. His eyes meticulously scanned each hem of the top he was making, before placing it on the vacant space on the table. He looked over to you in the opposite corner of the room, hunched over the potter’s wheel.

It was a pretty messy scene, actually— your hair fell around your face, the tips of some strands fell victim to the clay splatters. Your arms and legs were covered in dried clay, some even ending up on your cheek even though you were trying your best to stay clean. Asahi always laughed at the face you made when you focused on your ceramic work, your eyebrows were slightly furrowed and your lips formed a small pout, sometimes your bottom lip taken in between your teeth. He loved to see the gears moving in your brain, watching your small hands manipulate the clay to your liking. Very few words came from your lips when you were deeply invested in your work. His otherwise chatty girlfriend had all of her attention zeroed in on the clay spinning before her. As someone who is inclined in a different form of art, Asahi couldn’t understand how you did it. He’s mesmerized every time you pull out a new vessel each time, with beautiful glazes coating the surface.

Asahi snapped out of his thought when he felt the warmth of your chest against his back. You buried your face in his shoulders as you snaked your arms across his waist. You leaned over to look at his latest creation, a bright yellow top with a delicate lettuce hem on the bottom. You admired the garment for a moment, but then became a bit confused. His portfolio otherwise consisted of basic menswear, filled with neutral tones on sturdier material. Asahi seemed to have read your thoughts before you could properly form them yourself, letting out a soft laugh before he spoke.

“It’s for you.”

#azumane asahi x reader #azumane asahi #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #alli’s hunnid event

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reversemoon255 · 4 years

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1t's Never 0ver

Hot take: Brain is the first Reiwa Rider. Still, for the first Reiwa series, Kamen Rider Zero-One was a great start. I've seen a surprising amount of kids shows tackle the idea of treating robots like people, and this show handles it pretty decently.

The Good: Aruto was surprisingly funny and competent. I was optimistic when they presented him as an unfunny comedian turned CEO in the preview material, but I'm impressed by how well he turned out, with full credit to the actor for nailing most of his deliveries. One of my big problems with both Build and Zi-O was that I couldn't always get behind the characters, but Aruto was definitely a step up, being the first Rider since Drive to really grab me.

Considering we just came off Zi-O, with a large cast of stoic characters, it's amazing how much Izu, the emotionless robot, pulled it off better. (Actually, credit to all the Humagear actors for outstanding mono-emotional performances. They all did very well.) I think a big part of that was the fact that they allowed her to make jokes and do silly things with a straight face, instead of being purely dour. And it was an excellent payoff, seeing her slow progression from a very basic personality to a much more lively one as the series progressed.

I really liked Fuwa, and his was another character that underwent several shifts during the run of the story, those the moments where he started turning are more evident than Izu's (but he's also not portrayed as very bright, so that makes sense). His entire arc is him overcoming his hatred for Humagears, eventually reaching the point where he wants to help them, with the final expression of this being him declaring his will to carry on Naki's dream and using his Progrise Key to transform. And he was just pretty fun, being the serious character who likes bad jokes, and often ends up the butt of them himself.

Yua is a troublesome character. There was a lot of untapped potential there that I feel wasn't reached, but there was some good, too. Her arc was seeing Humagear as people rather than tools, which isn't as well executed as Izu or Fuwa as she took a back seat for about two show arcs, but is ultimately satisfying. Most of her development in this department seems to comes from her interactions with Izu, but her experiences during the Fire Fighter training were also a big push. And her resignation was amazing. I feel most of her issues could have been solved if they didn’t push her so hard in promotional material at the beginning.

I disliked Gai for most of this show, which I think was the point. He was a total butt for the majority of the runtime, but it's also amazing how quickly I 180'd on him after his dog showed up. He was very functional, and I wasn't really interested in him as a character until, again, Dog Thouser showed up.

Jin was definitely the villain I had the most investment in throughout the show, even if that started waning near the end when he was just sitting around and letting Horobi do whatever he wanted. Still, he was very similar to Izu, being a Humagear that we see slowly obtain his own singularity and ideals, but taken from a different perspective. He was also a lot of fun. I've found my favorite characters are usually the ones with positive attitudes and outlooks, even if he was aiming for mankind's extinction.

I know a lot of people like Horobi, but it took me a while to warm up to him, and even then I wasn't the biggest fan until his changes in the final episodes. When Gai replaced him as the main antagonist of the series, I wasn't sad to see him go, but I am glad he eventually came back because they did good things with him. It's also cool how he sparks Jin's first major development with his death, and Jin sparks his final changes with his own.

I found myself very invested in the story, especially since this series was very good at not letting a status quo settle for very long. As soon as the Aruto VS A.I.M.S dynamic was set up, he reveals himself to them. As soon as Metsuboujinrai.Net is defeated, Gai shows up. After 4 "nice" contests between humans and Humagear where the humans learn something through the competition, we get one where the villains win and Aruto is ousted as CEO. And I think that was to the show's benefit. A lot of Rider shows will wait half the show before a shakeup, but Zero-One was constantly keeping the viewer interested with new story lines and revelations.

Oh, and every belt chant was amazing.

The Bad: Going in the same order, Yua had a lot of unused potential. I remember how much hype her character had out the gate, being the first female Rider to start a series. She even got a form change, which is a first. However, she only got one form change, and as I mentioned when discussing LupinRanger and Ryusoulger, power-ups in Tokusatsu shows are often used as physical representations of a character's growth. Yua's second form showed up before episode 10. Yes, she also had Fighting Jackal later in the show, but that was a monster form; it's made to represent her fully giving in to Gai’s will, which is why we don't see it after she quits ZAIA. I would have loved if she had used Fighting Jackal in the ShotRiser and had gotten a new form as a representation of her moving on from those painful memories, or forgiving Gai. It sucks, because we got a ton of short-use Riders and forms in this series, so you'd think they could swing it. Just in the last few episodes, we got Arc-One, Arc-Scorpion, Vulcan Japanese Wolf, and Eden. At this point, I think Toei's just not sure what to do with a female Rider. At least they treated her better than Poppy and Nico.

I really didn't like Gai. And I know that's the point, but there's a difference between there being a character you're supposed to hate for the whole show and a character you're supposed to come around on. You can have a despicable character become a good guy, but there has to be something about them that makes you want them to become one in the first place, otherwise it's just jarring. Dan Kuroto is a great example of this. He was also a despicable character, but he had this humorous over-the-top attitude to him that made him fun to watch, and you want him to join the main cast to see how that persona bounces off everyone else. Gai didn't have anything like that; he was just dislikable. If they had hinted at all to his past, it would have worked, but they waited until the episode where he face turns to do it. And that just doesn't work.

This is also a personal nitpick, but when they were teasing stuff for the finalé, I thought Aruto was going to use Rocking Hopper, not Realizing Hopper. Thematically, that would have been awesome, but I'm ok with what we got.

There were also quite a few episodic plots I'd wished they'd covered in regards to the Humagears. We covered quite a broad range of topics with them, but there were a few big things they missed. One of them is about Humagear choosing new careers. It's cool that Humagear have dreams, but they're all in regard to their predisposed profession. The manga assistant wants to write a manga, the coaches want to teach the best athletes, etc. But no one wants to change jobs. We don't get a farmer Humagear that suddenly wants to become an artist or anything, and I would have liked to see how Aruto would handle that. And what about love? It was briefly brought up, but what happens when a Humagear falls in love with a human? Or when two Humagear fall in love? How did they have sentient robots and not talk about love!?

I also can't help but wonder what the show would have been like if we hadn't lost 4 episodes due to current events. I have a feeling we might have had a Gaim Finalé situation with Eden and that's why they had the costume on hand. Who knows; maybe we'll get some interviews down the road that will give us some insight.

And lastly, spoilers, I want top talk about the death of Izu, because that's the one thing I see the most that people disliked about the ending. It's not that she died at all, because we've had that before with characters like Ankh, but because Aruto created a new, identical Izu, with the same name, and proclaimed he was going to retrain her.

I had to think on this for quite a while, but I'm ok with this. Don't get me wrong, I would have preferred an ending where Izu was restored like Jin, or where Horobi becomes Aruto's new assistant, but the thing is this was foreshadowed. In the early episodes, every time Metsubojinrai.Net corrupts a Humagear, and Aruto or Fuwa or Yua has to destroy it, what happens? The owner gets a new Humagear of the same model and retrains it. Aruto is following his company’s policy. And yes, it’s painful. You can see him well up as he’s reminded of the first Izu, but he smiles and moves forward.

There is a form of Japanese pottery called kintsukuroi. In it, you take a piece of broken pottery, and along the cracks you piece everything back together with gold. It's not an easy process, it takes time, and the cracks are still there, but the end result is far more beautiful that what you started with. Aruto is always going to remember the first Izu, and living with the second Izu is going to be painful, but there’s the potential for this new relationship to be even greater than the one he started with. Or at least that’s me reading too much into it.

The Next: (At the time of writing this,) Saber premieres this weekend. Love the designs, as I'm big on the knight motif. I think the belt gimmick is cool, and might get it if they reveal some interesting power-up books. I think a story about story is very fun, very meta, could be great, but could also go horribly wrong if not given to the right writer. We'll have to see. After how well Zero-One was handled, I'm excited to see how the rest of Reiwa will go. They probably won't all be winners, but I enjoyed most of Neo Heisei, with only the last few entries being bad-to-ok in my book, so here's to hoping we'll get a repeat of that trend, without repeating their themes.

Overall, this was a good season. Not my favorite, but certainly in the upper half of the show's library. Looking forward to the movie, whenever that happens. Looking forward to Saber, too.

"A Rider Kick to the sky turns to take off toward a dream!"

#Kamen Rider #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Zero-One #Review

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

Text

Occupational hazards

Barry Berkman x Reader

Three part series: It was just another job, he doesn’t even had to kill anyone, but the way she looked at him was more dangerous than the bullets.

Part I Part II Part III

Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Violence, cursing, blood, stalkers.

Part I

“I remember telling you to fuck off and stop calling me” You say answering the phone the fifth time it rings, knowing too well he won’t stop until you do “I made myself clear, don’t call me, don’t contact me, keep your stupid flowers and presents to yourself and stay the fuck away from me”

“Oh my little Y/N” Says his drunk voice in the other end “You know you like it, this little number of yours, pretending you don’t need a man will end as soon as you feel lonely, why don’t we speed things up and simply let me come up with you?” He said and you froze, how does he knew you were at the second floor of your house? You looked outside the window but couldn’t see anything, nervously you closed your sleeping robe with a tight knot suddenly feeling exposed “You don’t have to be so shy, I already know what is behind that” He said and you toss the phone aside, but you could still listen to his laugh, when will this nightmare end??

“Fuck you Richard!!!” You scream at the phone, but he had already hung up. You closed all the windows and went straight to your bathroom cabinets, it had to be there.

You finally found it, a few years back when your name was still unknown and your main job was stacking candles and towels in a store, and before you had a sociopath for an ex, you became friends with this weird and really sweet bald guy on Pottery Barn, you helped him redecorate his room and you even talk once in a while over the phone, or at least until last year when he said he was going back to Chechnya to visit his family, but before he went away, and after he met the charming man you were dating and seeing the bruises in your arms he gave you a card and told you, if you ever need to get rid of that guy just call this number.

You light on a cigarette, and sit on the floor of your bathroom thinking, what does get rid of meant? Hank, judging by his tattoos, was not an entirely innocent folk, but at this point you were desperate, and you cursed yourself for ever start dating a man like that, the all charming and thoughtful movie producer, you knew your career will be damaged forever if you kept avoiding him but coming back to be treated like garbage and not being able to eat, dress or think on your own was not an option. You finally gathered the courage and dialled the number.

“Fuches” a raspy voice said on the other end.

“Hi, ammm” you were not sure what exactly where you going to say.

“Who is this? Hello?? Who gave you this number? Are you there?” The man seem angry and a bit condescending in his tone and somehow his rudeness made you speak up.

“Yeah, I’m here” You started with more confidence “I got this number from NoHo Hank, he said you could help me to… to get rid of someone”.

“Ahh” The man was calmed now, almost happy “Well in that case any friend of Hank is friend of mine, but I warn you madame that won’t be cheap” He said and you stand up from the floor glimpsing at yourself in the mirror, shocked to see how pale you looked, and how scared you actually felt.

***

Barry entered his apartment begging for Jermaine or Nick to be there and use them as an excuse to tell Fuches to fuck off, but it was empty except for the never ending amount of trash that always was in their comon space, he stopped trying to tell them to clean like three months ago and now he only limited to hide in his room away from the beer cans and chips bags.

It didn’t matter that much really, at least not before, as long as Sally was there to talk to him or as long as he could call her, but then she got that part in a big movie, and he was happy for her, that was her dream and he would never get between her and her dream, but then she stop being around the class due to rehearsals, and then she change a beer in Residual’s to fancy and expensive dinners with her costars and then one day she simply said goodbye.

But he had come to the conclusion that he deserved that, he took away Mr. Cousineau’s happiness so it was only fair for him to lose it as well, and Sally was still his friend, as long as he could find a 5 minutes gap to talk in her busy schedule every other week.

He was still on the class, and he was getting better or at least he no longer missed his lines, and he had even recieved a callback for a commercial, but he didn’t get it in the end.

And now Fuches was coming back to screw up everything again, Barry looked at the clock, 4:02 he would be there any minute, for a brief moment his mind travel to his gun under his bed, and how just one year before he was desperate to see him and kill him from once, but then Mr Cousineau started making questions, and to suspect, accurately, that he had killed Moss, and Fuches chose to come clean, or at least enough to settle things down.

He told Gene the Chechens killed Moss and that they wanted to implicate Barry, so he called the cops on him so Barry would take the blame and end up in jail, he played his Part as a poor looser, alone and miserable well enough and Barry chose not to kill him, as long as he would stay away from them, and he had kept his promise until that morning. He would say no, obviously but he needed to say it to his face to reassure him or to himself that it was all done.

A knock on the door put him in alert, and he muttered a simple “Come in” keeping himself away from the entrance. Fuches entered the room with an almost curious expression on his face, he looked at the trash an made a disgusted frown, and then looked at Barry from head to toe, he looked paler or maybe just tired, he for sure was, that stubborn woman was by far the most picky and difficult client he ever had by far, but with enough luck Barry may solve it.

“Nice place” He said finally with a sarcastic grin

“That’s my roommate’s doing” Barry answered in a monotone “Coffee? beer?”

“If you are really being nice I’ll take the beer” Fuches said and without waiting for an invitation he found a place to sit.

“I’m not.” Barry answered and sit in front of him. “What do you want?”

“Ahh there it is” Fuches roll his eyes “I got a job for you, and I think you may like this one…”

“What the fuck man?” Barry interrupted mid sentence. “We haven’t seen each other in almost a year, I was very clear then as I’m now I don’t want to do that anymore”

“Boy listen, is way easier and you’ll get pay three times more than previous works” He said completely ignoring him.

“I don’t give a fuck about the money, I told you I don’t want to work for you” Barry put both hands over his face, this was exasperating.

“Fine, now look at me like you were about to kill me” He said taking Barry by surprise.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He said after an uncomfortable silence.

“Look kid, a week ago I received a call from a crazy actress, you may know her Y/N something” He started

“Is not Y/N Y/L/N by any chance?” Barry asked, remembering something that Natalie and Sasha said about her.

“Yes, that one, complete basket case” Fuches continued “She asked me if I could eliminate her ex boyfriend, some Hollywood big shot that I genuinely couldn’t care less about. I said yes sure, I’ll send someone to do it, then she change her mind and called me back, and said she simply wants to scare him, but she wants to meet the guy she is paying. And she hated him, and I show her my folder of other employees and well…”

“Oh come on man, that’s on you, you shouldn’t have my picture there” Barry said now understanding what had happen.

“Yeah I get that, but the thing is I said to her you no longer work for me, and she offered the triple, and I told her that if she wanted you so badly then she would have to convince you by herself, and that’s why I’m here, I need you to go see her, say no and then she would pick one of my guys and I’ll be out of your life forever” He said like if he was offering the most interesting deal ever. “Take it as an acting job” He add when Barry didn’t respond “You get to meet a pretty and famous actress, and you can scream to her everything you just said to me, also I’ll pay you”

Barry remained silent for another moment thinking about the situation, it seemed like an easy deal, and some extra money wouldn’t be that bad, and if he played his cards well enough he could even make sure Fuches to stay away form him for good.

“Fine I’ll do it” he said after a while “But is just this and it’s over, no more phone calls, no more jobs no anything, I turn down this woman and that’s it.” He said seriously.

“Consider it done son, just one more deal and I’m out of your life” Fuches said happy, and then got up the chair and started leaving “You have to meet her tomorrow in a restaurant, I’ll send you the address” Barry nodded and watched him leave, then he went to his room to search something about the woman he was about to meet.

Y/N was a gorgeous woman and a talented actress, but apparently the media didn’t like her very much since she had a reckless life style, there were many pictures of her smoking and drinking, and she had a long list of ex lovers, and the most prominent of those was some guy called Richard Maverick, he recognized that name, it was the director and producer of Sally’s movie, more of a reason to not working for that woman, since the guy didn’t seem like a bad person, and she did.

***

Sparkling bubbles were moving in your glass of water, it have been sitting there since the waiter pour it, but you were to nervous to touch it, it was a nice table, out in the terrace of the restaurant and you were sure anyone walking by the street would be able to see you, so it worked perfectly for your plan, now everything else depended on the man you hear approaching behind you.

“Snow White?” He asked and sited in the spot in front of you, he was clean shaved and wearing a black blazer over a dark green tshirt, definitely not what you expected from someone of his profession.

“Is from Notting Hill, the movie with Julia Roberts, don’t you like it? God you really are tall, how much is it like 6'3”?“ You said unable to stop yourself, but concentrating on his face, there was something sad about his blue eyes, almost melancholic.

"6'2” and no I don’t think I saw it, the oscar winning one?“ He said a bit ashamed by his poor Hollywood trivia knowledge.

"Oh absolutely not, some old romantic comedy, you should see it some time.” You said, and the whole situation felt more and more surreal “Well I’m Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you Mr. Berkman, or do you prefer Block?” You said please to se the surprise on his face.

“Berkman is fine, how do you know?” He said examining your face.

“Well is not every day that I have to hire a professional assassin, so I needed to get some references, and your employer was distracted enough so I could stole this from him, here you can have it back” You said sliding his picture across the table. “I saw a couple videos of your callbacks, you shouldn’t stoop that much when you read it would help in the auditions”

“So this is what you do?” He said and his tone was calm but there was fury in his eyes “You manipulate people into working with you, making then feel like you know everything about them and pretending to be nice and polite? Well I have news for you, first of all I don’t work for Fuches, and second, you can put out all of this glamorous crap that you have on me and the answer still be no, I don’t this anymore”

“Would you like to order?” The waiter said before any of you could keep speaking.

“Sure, shrimp risotto for me, and for my dear friend… what do you want honey?” You said smiling at him.

“The same sounds fine” he said and smile back at you changing his tone immediately. “And red wine?"He asked you with a checky wink and you nodded. "Red it is” The waiter nod and walked away.

“Not bad, you are a quick responder, I like that” you said looking as the man walked away. “But you don’t know shit about me” You spat at him once the waiter couldn’t hear “Glamorous crap? Oh let me guess you read one of the many articles about how much of a whore I am? I have a drinking and smoking problem is that it? That I have slept my way into every work I ever had, and how little I deserved my career, and how much good it was for Richard to walk away form me even when he still loves me? Well that’s all bullshit” There it was again, even when you were trying to escape he was still holding you in his hands. “Well the magazines that work for him doesn’t tell I went to drama school, they didn’t say I have a dying mother that gets every penny I make, they didn’t say that I could count the men I slept with the fingers on one hand I will be sparing 2, they don’t say he forced himself on me more times I can remember, or how he enjoys sleeping with every woman that works for him no matter the age just because he is The man”

“Go the police then, tell them that, why do you need me?” He said, but with less confidence than before and it was obvious his mental image of you was crumbling.

“The L.A. Police that gets donations from him every year? I’m a whore, to them, to Richard, to you and to everyone. I have no voice” Fortunately the waiter arrived with the food and you could stop to think, talking about this made you feel exposed, and you were questioning if it was worth the trouble at all.

“Why me? If you need him out of your life so bad I’m sure Fuches have someone right for the job” He said and started eating avoiding your gaze, you didn’t have an appetite anymore but force yourself to do the same.

“Have you seen the guys that work for Fuches? They look like hobos and meth heads, he is not some random dude, he is rich and powerful if he dies people would ask questions and eventually that would come back to me, also he would die loved and mourned, and he doesn’t deserve that.”

“And scared him off is better how? If someone goes to him and beat him it would come back at you faster and worse” He said taking a sip of his wine.

“Men always think physically right?” You said drinking as well and looking at him “I never said beat him, I told fuches I needed you specifically and he said he doesn’t work for me anymore, he is an actor now, and then I knew you were exactly what I needed. I don’t need some hitman to go beat the crap out of Richard even if he deserves it. I need someone to escort me from my apartment to work, and to public events and keep him away from me.”

“Those are called bodyguards and I’m pretty sure there are legal business that can provide their services to you” He said condescendingly.

“Like the one that is at my house right now and doesn’t even know I went out?” You said smiling “Or the one that give my alarm password to Richard so he could read his script? Legal people can be bought, and they have things to lose, that doesn’t work for me, he is a monster and a criminal, so I need someone outside the law to outsmart him” You said to him and the shadow of a smile formed in his lips before he spoke.

“So you think I’m a monster too? Look I’m sorry for you, your situation must be horrifying, but I leave that life behind, I’m no longer that guy and I don’t want to be, I’m sorry but I don’t want my past mistakes to keep haunting me, I’m tired of that. I’m sorry” He said, and you believed him but you couldn’t lost this chance.

“Mr Berkman, can I call you Barry?” You started and he nod affirmatively “Barry do you ever have nightmares about your mistakes?”

“Every night” He answered

“But when you wake up, when you go to work, when you talk to your significant other, when you are eating, those mistakes are dead, those people and those lifes you took they remained where you leave them. Your mistakes don’t call you at 3 am to remain you you are a slut, your mistakes don’t sell naked pictures of you to magazines to make you feel miserable because you are no longer sleeping with them. Your mistakes don’t force you to go down on them in order to don’t recast your part and then don’t threaten to ruin your career and leave your mother without her cancer treatment.” You said and a tear finally find it’s way down your cheek. “Fine I get it, you want to be a better person, well so am I, I need to run away from this and I’m so desperate that I called you, but it’s okay I have no way to force you into this, you don’t have to be sorry about me” you said hopeless, and he remained silent for a couple minutes looking at you occasionally and then his plate now almost empty.

“What exactly would I have to do?” He said finally “I’m not accepting, I just want to know” he add before you could react.

“Offering me your arm in social events, walked me to my apartment at nights, and take me to lovely lunches like this one every few days, basically being a human purse, just looking handsome and put together next to me, and let the magazines and the media make their assumptions”

“I’m not a prostitute” He said and you found the statement ridiculously funny.

“And I wouldn’t pay you to fuck me sunshine” you said with a grin “But I have learned that men respect other men’s "property” more than a women’s NO, and if I start seeing a handsome, blue eyed, literal war hero from the Midwest he would look like an asswhole if he keeps pushing how much he misses me in interviews"

“Fine” He said looking straight to your eyes “I’ll do it, when do you want to start?”

“Well if you consider the three girls with her phones out that just crossed behind you on the street, I would say I already owe you overtime, but tomorrow is fine, I would send you my address and other details with my publicist”

“Don’t you think is better if we have the least amount of people involved in this?” He said with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Adrian is like a sister to me, I trust her my life.” You said and he seemed conformed with that answer “And Barry, thank you”.

#barry berkman x you #barry berkman fanfiction #barry berkman edit #barry berkman x reader #barry berkman #barry hbo #barry block #gene cousineau #sally reed #monroe fuches #fuches #bill hader #barry berkman imagine #fanfiction #angst with a happy ending #angst #100

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lon3lynation · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 5: Ways To Go

Previous Chapter

"Even when I can't see my rearview Even if I call just to hear you Even when I sleep all day (Even when I sleep all day) Even if I work it like I'm times two Living in the back of the bunk just like we do Even when I dream all day

Don't wanna sleep tonight You've got me feeling right I didn't know my name, I didn't know my name

I got a little bit longer, I got a ways to go I got a little bit longer, I got a ways to go I got a little bit longer, I got a ways to go Whoa oh oh (I got a ways to go)"

Ways To Go by Grouplove

5 days and 400 miles of Blue Ridge Parkway later, Lexa found herself in North Carolina. After staying her nights in rustic lodges and taking in the views along the parkway, she was feeling spoiled and reinvigorated in such a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. Over the years, it was all cheap hotels and motels. As long it had a clean bed and a running shower, it was all she needed to get by. It was affordable and temporary which was suitable for her type of lifestyle.

It was breathtaking to look out the windowsill and have mountains greet her sight instead of a parking lot or a wall of another building. It had given her a sense of serenity. Lexa had figured that she was a bit of an urban girl after her constant traveling from city to city. It was the source of her freedom. However, she was quickly learning that being around nature and the sheer expanse of the open land was altogether something much more magnificent. It was pure and natural freedom.

The road trip was already opening her eyes to new perspectives and feelings. It served as a reminder of how much more there was in the world outside of her life. It made her feel small and insignificant in comparison. No matter what obstacles she had faced or how lost she felt, her problems will never hinder the world from continuing on with or without her. Strangely enough, she received a small comfort at the realization. It was up to her on how to deal with her own existence and how to let events impact it.

It felt like an awakening.

Lexa wanted to further open her mind and heart to the wisdom that her journey would surely offer her. She wanted to encounter every one of Earth's secrets. It wasn't humanly possible but she wanted to try and learn what she could in her lifetime. A life filled with adventure and world travel could potentially be her new purpose in life. She would love to visit other countries and expose herself to different cultures. Once she had herself figured out and her past wounds dealt with on this particular trip, she would have to seriously consider her options on what was next for her.

Lexa was getting a little too ahead of herself, though. She's only been on the road for about a week now. There was still a way to go mentally and distance-wise. There was no rush but she knew she couldn't put it off for much longer. She needed to make some sort of progress with herself and take that much needed first step. Hopefully, the first step would be the hardest part and the rest will be bearable enough to proceed through.

The time for reflection of her past would have to wait because presently there was shopping to be done. If she wanted to make the most out of the summer, swimwear and more clothes were a necessity. She had already picked out some outfits perfect for the warm weather and a new suitcase for them. Currently, she was taking a moment to ponder the phone in her free hand.

Turning away from the racks of bikinis, she opened up Instagram in the browser and logged into her long-abandoned private account. She rarely ever posted any pictures on it anymore. Maybe she would start using it again and upload photos of the incredible sights she saw for prosperity. It would be nice to have them along with her memories. Maybe she could even make Anya a bit envious for missing out on a joint road trip together.

Actually, they would have positively driven each other insane if they had gone together. It might have been fun and games at first, but eventually, the lack of space and disagreements on activities would have done nothing but frustrate them both. Anya would have wanted to do something wilder than sunbathing on a beautiful beach or enjoying the views. Lexa would have never been able to do her much needed thinking and reevaluating with Anya around.

Still, she missed her friend and hoped to get in contact again. It was the longest they had gone without seeing each other. With that in mind, she opened up her private messages and sent Anya a text.

'Anya, I think we should meet up again soon. It's overdue. I'm traveling southwest of the US via car. Where are you currently staying? Get back to me asap.'

Lexa was looking forward to hearing from Anya again. She wondered if her mentor would feel a sense of pride in her for doing a successful job of stealing a car for a cross-country road trip. However, she was not looking forward to explaining her phone relationship with Clarke to her. Anya wouldn't understand when Lexa, herself, could barely understand it. Clarke called her every day since she had taken the car and Lexa has gone along with it. It frightened her how effortlessly Clarke was getting past the cracks in her walls. She doubted that Clarke even realized just how well she was doing until about 5 days ago. After she had ventured to imagine Clarke standing next to her to share the view of the mountains, Lexa made certain to be more aloof in her calls with Clarke.

Too bad there wasn't some manual book on how to interact with a stubborn and persistent stranger that was the victim of your thievery. How was she supposed to act and feel in such an unprecedented situation?

Lexa didn't know. She absolutely hated how unprepared and uncertain she felt. Her vulnerability was showing and she didn't do vulnerability. Normally she could predict and prepare for every outcome, but this once she was caught off guard. It unnerved her which was downright irritating.

Clarke was so very irritating.

Stupid Clarke and her unrealistic optimism.

Stupid Clarke and her constant questions.

Stupid Clarke and her cracked blue phone case that was now ringing in her hand.

Lexa glared at the vibrating and ringing phone in her hand. Her fingers gave a momentary squeeze around the case before answering and lifting it to her ear with a sigh.

"Hello, Clarke."

"Hey, criminal."

"Very original."

"What? Is that not cutesy enough for you? How about I start calling you Rebel?"

Lexa scoffed.

"God, no and I don't do cutesy."

"Why? Oh, does it put a damper on your badass rep in the criminal world?"

"What do you think we do? Sit around and share stories about our illegal doings? That we know who's who?" Lexa chuckled at the thought. "The only person that knows what I do is -"

"The infamous friend and mentor, of course. Is she aware of how much you mention her to strangers?"

"No, her smugness doesn't need any more encouragement."

"It's nice to have you taking part in our banter again. I was wondering how long you could resist it."

A pause.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, it didn't escape my notice that you've been acting like a dick for the past 4 days."

"When are you going to stop referring me to a phallus?"

"When you stop acting like one which is probably not going to be anytime soon. So, are you done with the whole tightlipped routine?"

"You tell me. Am I?" Lexa snipped.

"I think you want it to be because you sorta miss this but you're resisting because it - or I - make you nervous."

Damn her.

"Clarke," she warned.

"Sounds like I hit the mark," Clarke responded smugly.

"You can't just -" Blowing out a harsh breath, Lexa shook her head. "This needs to stop."

"And now you're panicking."

"I'm not panicking."

She was maybe panicking a little bit.

"It seems like you are. Take another breath."

To her annoyance, Lexa found herself taking another breath and felt recentered.

"You need to stop doing that."

"Doing what exactly? Telling the truth the way I see it?"

"Pushing and assuming you know anything about the way I feel. You don't."

"Your reaction seems to disagree with your words. Why does it -"

"No," Lexa sternly interrupted.

"No?" Clarke questioned.

"No more questions. How would you like it if I questioned you constantly?"

"Well, if it gets you to partake in our conversations a little more. Ask me."

"What?"

"If you have questions, then ask me. At least you'll get a detailed answer from me, unlike a certain someone.".

It was annoying how quickly Clarke could turn things back around on her. Anytime she thought she got the reins back, Clarke would only steal them right back and leave her scrambling like a fool.

"Did I put you on the spot? I'm sorry. Let me help you. My name's Clarke Griffin. I'm 21 years old and I am currently still in college. I was a little lost on what I wanted to pursue career-wise. I could follow in my mother's footsteps or do the opposite of what she wants and pursue art. I may decide on something else one day but right now I'm really digging the art direction I've taken. Is this where you remind me again that I'm speaking to a criminal?"

"No. I think you're well aware of what you're doing." She was beginning to believe she'll never truly understand Clarke and what motivated her to do the things she does. However, she appreciated the shift in their conversation. "An artist," Lexa curiously hummed. "What are your mediums?"

"I draw and paint mainly. Pencil, pastels, watercolor, acrylics. I tried pottery before but the misshapen mug that resulted from it didn't exactly encourage me to continue with it. I still use the mug every morning for coffee though."

Lexa smiled wistfully as a memory came to her.

"Pottery was something I wanted to take on as a hobby after my high school's art class introduced us to it. There was something about the cold clay staining my hands and watching them mold a lump of it into something useful."

"Did you take it on as a hobby?"

"I didn't get a chance to." Lexa sighed deeply as the memory turned into a sad one. "I was so consumed with... Costia, my girlfriend at the time and then not too long later, I ended up leaving what I thought was my home."

Suddenly, it occurred to her that Clarke had succeeded in getting her to share something in return. And of all things to share, she allowed Costia's name to flow out from her lips. The same name she has consciously avoided saying out loud for years.

"That sounds exactly like how a high school romance would be. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance, though. There's nothing really stopping you from doing pottery now, right? It's never too late."

"I move around too much. Maybe when I am settled down somewhere, I'll look into it."

"You should." Clarke gently urged. "I, um, I hope you realize that I am really biting my tongue here. You give me little crumbs of information that makes me curious and want to know more, but…"

"But you're trying to hold back now because I was sort of an asshole about it earlier," Lexa admitted, feeling appreciative that Clarke was trying. "Honestly, if our roles were reversed, I'd be just as curious. I guess I can't fault you for that."

"Sort of?" Clarke joked. "And I guess I can see why you would want to stay secretive."

Lexa lingered silently in consideration before responding.

"It's just that this whole situation with you is pretty unheard of and I need to stay on guard."

"I think I understand, but I promise you that the car is staying unreported. I would like to solve this between us."

"The crazy thing is I think I am starting to believe that." Lexa chuckled in disbelief. "I wanted this road trip to be memorable and I am getting that. I simply didn't expect you, though." Lexa softly muttered. "I don't know how to process you, Clarke. You're an enigma I've yet to solve."

Lexa bit her lip in thought. It hadn't escaped her notice that the tone of their conversation had completely shifted. Clarke seemed to be taken aback as she listened closely to the other end of the call. She scanned the racks and distractedly examined her swimwear options.

"Careful, that sounds a lot like a compliment, I think," Clarke chuckled nervously. "Do you really think between the two of us that I am the enigma here? I'm just some girl compared to you."

"It's important for you to have some confidence in yourself, Clarke."

Clarke laughed, "Oh, I have plenty of confidence, but I am not a badass thief that gets to do whatever she wants and road trip across the country."

"You think I'm badass?"

"Of course that's what you took away from that sentence. Have you always been this sure of yourself?"

"No," Lexa grinned with a small laugh. "It took a lot of practice. I was the quiet little loner in school before I met Costia. She helped bring me out of my shell. She told me to pretend until I didn't have to anymore. It took."

"It took and gave you a humongous ego."

"Hey, now you're exaggerating."

"Nope."

"I'm really not as cocky as you make me out to be, you know," Lexa bemoaned.

"Oh, who is referring themselves to phalluses now?" Clarke cackled over the line, much to Lexa's annoyance and hidden amusement.

"Shut up, Clarke. You have the humor of a 12 years old boy."

"It's still a better sense of humor than your total lack of one, rogue."

Lexa pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a quiet laugh. Clarke's random names never failed to amused her.

I think I prefer rogue over rebel so far."

"It may be my favorite name for you yet. Of course, the one thing that could top it is your actual name…"

"Uh-huh, still not giving it to you."

"Dammit," Clarke sighed.

It made Lexa smile to herself.

Clarke was stupidly cute.

It was truly unfair.

"I've been standing here talking to you while staring at a rack of bikinis for who knows how long now. I should finish what I'm doing." Lexa found herself reluctant to end the call but knew she needed to get moving.

"Oh, okay. Sorry, I didn't realize I interrupted your shopping."

"It's fine. I voluntarily let you interrupt me."

"Hmm, I think you're starting to like talking to me, rogue."

"And you claim I'm the one with an ego?"

"Nice deflection."

"It wasn't a deflection."

"Whatever you say. Hey, maybe you could send me a bikini pic," Clarke suggested excitedly.

Lexa snorted, "You wish, Clarke."

"Well, yeah. I asked, didn't I?" Clarke mumbled softly enough that Lexa nearly missed it.

Clearing her throat, Lexa ignored the fluttery feeling inside her that was suddenly begging for attention.

"Thank you for the call. I think you've given me some things to think about."

"Of course. I'm glad we could have this talk and come to a better understanding."

"We did," Lexa whispered in agreement.

After they exchanged goodbyes, Lexa slipped the phone back into her pocket and heaved a huge sigh of relief. It had started out rocky but Clarke had managed to smooth things out between them. An understanding of sorts had been reached, resulting in Lexa feeling less anxious and guarded.

She had meant it when she had told Clarke that she's given her things to think about. It amazed her that she had actually talked about Costia with someone and shared bits of her past. Granted, she didn't open up about her unfavorable memories yet, but it was still progress. Dealing with her past was one of the main reasons why she was doing her road trip. Crazily enough, she was beginning to realize that perhaps Clarke could even help her in some ways. It didn't have to be all internal self-evaluating and assessing how to repair the damage on her own. She could confide in Clarke about certain things and finally vent out everything she had repressed for years.

But should she?

She was driving a stolen car, putting way too many miles on it, and having phone calls with a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger anymore, but still. She couldn't help but feel torn between wanting to just believe Clarke and wanting to protect herself.

Lexa knew it'd be hard and she was prepared for the challenge. Her gut was telling her to let herself trust Clarke. To let whatever it was they were doing happen without all her walls up surrounding her heart. They needed to be brought down, permanently. She needed to free herself from her own defense mechanisms and baggage.

Shaking her head, Lexa finally moved to try on the new swimwear in one of the dressing rooms. Clarke's suggestion to send a bikini photo was actually tempting. Maybe she could give Clarke a shock when she least expected it and send her one.

Lexa smirked at the thought.

------------------------------------------

Hours later near Nags Head, NC, Lexa found herself sitting inside a McDonald's enjoying a food break. She has plans on visiting Nags Head, the name alone being enough to intrigue her, which was a barrier island in the Outer Banks.

Taking a bite of her hamburger, she paused slightly when the phone rang and vibrated on the table. It caused Lexa to grin after swallowing her bite as she raised it to her ear without looking at the caller ID. There was no need, she already knew who had to be calling her.

"Did you forget to add something to our call earlier?" Lexa said teasingly.

"Um, hello? I'm positive I've dialed the right number." A confused but kind female voice could be heard on the other end of the call, causing Lexa's smile to instantly drop.

"Who is this speaking? Is my daughter Clarke around? I'd like to speak to her, please."

Lexa startled upright in her seat, banging her knee against the table as she crushed the wrapper near her hand into a crinkly ball, and gaped like the careless fool that she was.

She did not just completely screw herself by simply answering the phone without looking at the caller ID, did she?

Taking a quick glance at the phone, it only further confirmed what an awkward idiotic mess she had just put herself in.

Mom.

She really did just do that.

Shit!

"Um," Lexa hesitated, her mouth still flapping open and shut for a moment in disbelief over the situation she had accidentally found herself in.

An utterly insane moment that shouldn't even be happening, ever. Talking to the mother of the woman whose car she had stolen. That just doesn't happen.

Lexa needed to rein back her control. She needed to get out of this conversation as quickly, but unsuspiciously, as possible.

Inhaling a calming breath, she released the crumbled wrapper from her hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry. I hadn't realized I answered the wrong phone, ma'am," she murmured, allowing a soft albeit nervous laugh to be heard. "I guess that's what I get for not looking at the caller ID."

"Oh," the mother drawled out. "Well, that clears up some of the confusion. Are you a friend of Clarke's? Wait, that's probably a silly question. You're no stranger to my daughter."

Hearing the voice on the other end laugh at the idea of a stranger answering her daughter's phone made Lexa anxiously bite her lip.

Right.

Such an inane thing to imagine to ever happen to someone. Not to Clarke Griffin.

Quietly groaning to herself, she forced herself to join in the laughter before clearing her throat to move the conversation to an end.

"Yeah, that's, uh - exactly, Mrs. Griffin. So, as you -"

"Enough with the politeness You can call me Abby."

"Abby," Lexa nodded, tracing invisible swirls on the tabletop for a sudden much-needed distraction. "Okay. Clarke's not around at the moment. I guess she forgot to take her phone with her."

"I see. I was hoping to catch her before she went off to classes or into one of her secluded artist moods. Did she -" Abby trailed off.

Lexa stored the tidbit of information on Clarke in mind before momentarily panicking at whatever caused Abby to pause mid-question.

Was she catching on?

Did she notice that something was off with her?

She may have only been speaking to the woman for a few minutes now but she couldn't help the feeling that she wasn't one to usually hesitate with words. Not after getting an ear and textful from Clarke. It didn't seem too far off to assume it ran in the family.

"Did you two have a girl's night? I mean, with her phone being with you at this time..."

Okay, she hadn't expected that line of questioning. Furrowing her brow in confusion at the tabletop, she scrambled to come up with something convincing.

"Yeah, yeah. We uh, just hung out and stuff last night. She crashed at my place. It was a tiring day for her."

"I can only imagine with classes, her art projects, and her wild group of friends. I'm just glad to know that she has someone to take the load off with after a long day."

Lexa hummed in response, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the fact that she'd let this conversation go as long as it had.

Also that guilty feeling had returned to nag at her again.

"How long have you two girls known each other now?"

Lexa wasn't sure, but she could've sworn that she had heard a smile in Abby's tone. Fidgeting in her seat, she knew she really had to end this conversation in the next minute because it was becoming too much for her to handle.

"I guess you can say we're fairly new friends."

"I see. Hm, that could explain why I haven't heard about you from Clarke yet. Since it's all so new." Abby chuckled, clearly amused by the topic of their fake friendship.

It was unsettling and even more confusing to hear the almost knowing tone to her laughter. She could almost imagine a scene where she was having this conversation in person with Clarke's mom, that she'd be bumping shoulders with her and grinning knowingly.

Lexa was fully aware that she could've avoided this whole confusing conversation if she had looked at the caller ID first.

"Who knows with her." She huffed out a chuckle. "Sorry, but I need to get going but I could take a message for her if you want?"

"Oh, okay, thank you. I'm sorry for taking up your time. I'm sure you have a busy day ahead of you. If you could tell Clarke that her mom would like to skype with her soon, that'd be great."

"Don't worry about it, ma'am. I'll be sure to bring that up to her."

"Thank you, and remember, it's Abby. It was nice talking to you."

"Abby, of course. You tool. Have a good day."

After exchanging goodbyes, Lexa ended the call and tossed the phone on the table to collapse back into her chair in relief. A small grunt sounded from her, making her realize she had been sitting tensely throughout the whole conversation.

A whole conversation that should've been minutes shorter than it turned out to be.

To say she was disappointed in herself and the way she handled the call was a major understatement. If she expected to keep under the radar, continue driving across the country in a stolen car, then she needed to be more cautious. She needed to not make the same mistakes as she had done just a moment ago.

If Abby had figured out that she was actually not a friend of Clarke's, and was in fact, a stranger that stolen her phone. There was no doubt she would actually report to the police unlike her daughter, who apparently thought she could handle it on her own.

At least she learned that Clarke clearly hadn't told Abby anything that had happened, which helped with the lies she had told. Abby believed she was a new friend of Clarke's. Hopefully, she would continue believing that for long enough and perhaps she'll be able to stomp down the lingering guilt over it.

Deciding it was time to take a bathroom break and head back on the road, Lexa gathered her trash after draining the last of her coffee and dumped it into the nearby garbage can. She pocketed Clarke's phone in her jeans and turned around only to bump into the solid chest of a man donning a uniform.

"Oh, sorry. Are you okay there?" the man questioned, oblivious to just how much he caught her completely off-guard.

Firm hands gripped her arms, steadying her, as her eyes took in the police badge pinned on the top left of the man's dark buttoned-up shirt.

A uniform with a badge.

She just bumped into a police officer inside a McDonald's.

"I-I'm sorry about that, officer." She muttered, attempting to hide her disbelief and fear behind a forced closed-lipped smile. "Didn't see you there. I'm fine, though, thanks."

"If you did, we wouldn't be apologizing to each other right now." The officer responded gruffly but his clear amusement softened his tone enough for her to not take it personally. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her when the officer finally released her arms.

Clearing her throat, she briefly glanced up, catching the man's eyes before switching her view out the window to where Clarke's car sat parked. She could feel her inner panic coming close to overwhelming her.

She needed to leave

"Well, I'll be sure to watch my step next time. I was just leaving. Have a good day, sir." Receiving a polite nod, Lexa edged passed the officer and exited the building out to the parking lot.

It took some restraint from Lexa to basically not sprint to the car to put as much distance as she could between her and the cop. With measured steps, she reached the car and pulled the driver's side door opened before closing it once she was seated inside. She grimaced slightly when her hand reached up to turn the ignition on, momentarily forgetting she had no key to turn.

She really needed to figure out a way to make it less obvious that the car was stolen if anyone were to ever peek inside and see the exposed wires dangling underneath the dash. Grabbing the wires, she gazed anxiously out the windshield as she entwined the correct wires together until the engine roared.

It only took a few moments before she found herself on the road again, and merging back onto the highway. Her own green eyes stared back at her as she glanced at the rearview mirror to reassure herself that the police officer hadn't followed her.

Seeing that she was in the clear, she exhaled sharply before grinding her teeth in annoyance while she pulled the car onto the bridge that would take her to the island.

How had she not noticed that a cop had been standing nearby in the same place as her? Observation and instincts to be alert to any possibility that she needed to tread around carefully had been known strengths of hers.

Lexa shook her head at herself, knowing that she had to somehow snap herself out of the tension she's been feeling. It was something that needed to end sooner than later if she actually wanted to enjoy this impromptu trip of hers. Constantly looking over her shoulders and acting unlike herself could cause actual suspicion. It wasn't what she envisioned, and she was not about to let herself ruin something that could be so good for her.

She had envisioned herself with the windows rolled down, wind whipping through her hair, a content smile on her face while blasting music that perfectly suited the adventurous mood. It was on her to take the step in turning it into a reality. With the image back in mind, she rolled the windows down in the car and tousled her hair with her hand as she inhaled the fresh air.

Turning her attention to the radio, her fingers fumbled briefly trying to find the correct button to switch it on. Finding the button, she pressed it and sat back comfortably into her seat before scanning through the channels until something grabbed at her.

At that moment, with the windows down, her hair flying behind her, a song that sang about having a ways to go, Lexa felt something inside her just crack open and her laughter soon took its place in her surroundings.

She could feel the tension leave her as she continued to laugh in such a carefree way. Tears pricked her eyes over the jumble of emotions that swelled inside her that was starting to put her mind back on track. This was what she wanted. No one, especially not herself, was going to let this moment slip through her fingers.

#There's Distance Between Us #clexa #clexa au #clexa modern #clexa fic #clexa fanfic #clexa ao3 #clexa tdbu #myfic #my writing

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aspiestvmusings · 4 years

Text

TMS S3: GROUP A

THE MASKED SINGER SEASON 3 GROUP A/ GROUP 1: (contestants 1 - 6)

EP 3x01: CLUES & MORE: RECAP for remaining 5:

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

KANGAROO

CLUES:

Location: Outdoors: “Australia”

Location: Next to a /in a yard of a “peach coloured” building with arch/vault-style architecture

VISUAL CLUES:

Sign: OUTBACK (with the U being in the shape of horseshoe)

Sign: Yellow “road sign” with an arrow pointing down (”spiraling down”)

MIB as papparazzi/press following her - taking pics, media attention (for “the wrong reasons”)

Gramophone on a tree branch

Boxing bag - the kangaroo boxing/hitting the boxing bag

Jump rope - the kangaroo jumping over a jump rope (made of a vine...held by MIB)

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

”Like most of you watching, I’m a survivor.”

“I recently lost a person, who held my familys heart together. Then, by my own admission, I found myself in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.”

“But I’m here to do what kangaroos do best - bounce back.”

“I have to fight for my family. And show them that bullies never win.”

“I am beyond terrified - I’ve never done anything like this before. But I’m not about to lose the chance to realize the dream I’ve always had.”

“To all the survivors out there -- This one’s for you.”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn

Look/Costume: The kangaroo has a pouch (indicates female), but also has a red/silver boxing outfit & gloves (indicates male). Outfit colours: red & silver. Important: there is a crown on the back of her robe.

Stage: hexagon-shaped mirrors (5 of them) surrounding her/behind her [if my other guess is correct, then that stage design is a “clue”]

Height: Tall-ish...almost the same height as host Nick. A bit shorter, around 175cm, probably.

Mic hand: Right

Talking: “One of my greatest fears is being vulnerable. And this year I’ve had no other option than to be vulnerable. But...with this kangaroo costume I feel like I can get my superpowers back.” + [breathes in/sighs heavily before the song starts]

GUESSES:

I HAVE NO NAMES OF MY OWN. -- I thought she was this certain female artist, because the voice kinda seemed familair (sounded like hers to me), but none of the clues and other things seemed to fit. And after checking the clues it seems to confirm it cannot be her, cause nothing matches. Also... to me she doesn’t sound like any of the singers I thoughts she could be based on the clues, so... I havent actually figured her out...

I think people online are correct, and it’s a certain “reality star” (gramophone = reference to her dad being a sound engineer on a well-known past TV show) Though I am considering a few more options - mostly other reality stars/youtubers/family members of celebs... particularily one name. If my guess here is correct, then just like Llama, she would have a connection to a previous TMS contestant...but since I am not that familiar with her singing voice, I cannot be sure. But she has lost family members in the past few years, she has been in a media scandal, and you can even explain the australia thing kinda... so...until I hear more of her, I’ve got one name mainly in mind. But I wont name it until I’ve heard her sing at least once more.

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

Survivor = the title of a “Destiny’s Child” hit song

Lost a family member recently = either her family member (parent, grandparent?) died or they parted ways (were cut ouf of each others lives)

Gramophone = possibly a reference to a Grammy nomination/win. Or just music/sound/audio

Outback = possible connection to Australia

“spiraling down” road sign + papparazzi following her = she’s been in a media scandal “recently”

Crown = King/Queen

LLAMA

CLUES:

Location: Radio station/Mixing studio - mixing console (close up)

Location: Pottery making “class”

VISUAL CLUES:

Mixing console - close up of a studio/radio station mixing console

23.3 The Wool (name of the radio station/show)

Red lightbulb in the studio

Photo of a bull (the animal)

Playing cards: Ace of Spaces & Jack of Spades). Two black suit cards showing (Jack Black)

Sounds of Seattle - title of a vinyl album

Romancing a llama: pottery

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

"Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Mix it up!”

“Good morning, Nerd herd! You’re listening to The Wool. Where we’re all cool. No Bull.”

“I’m here for one reason only - to have a laugh. And what’s funnier than a Llama? (laughs at his own joke)”

“You may call me a joker. But I’d like to get serious for a minute. The song I’m singing tonight is my favourite track for celebrating love with that... special someone. There’s nothing like being swept up by it’s deep, profound lyrics. It’s a tune that really gets me in the mood for romance. I can’t wait to sing it for you tonight.”

“Llama out!”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “She Bangs” by Ricky Martin

Look/Costume: Dressed as a tourist - “hawaiian” style shirt,, photo camera around his neck. Llamas tongue out of his mounth, on the side.

Height: he is around 180cm - about the same height as host Nick (their shoulders are on about the same height)

Mic hand: Left

Talking: “umm.. This whole costume just spoke to me... My vibe... I wear digs like this in real life.” (answering the question about his costume & it’s looks)

GUESSES:

Drew Carey (TV host/comedian/actor...)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

23.3 Wool = His show (The Drew Carey Show) had, during it’s 9-season long run, a total of 233 episodes.

Photo canera prop = His hobby is photography. Actually, it’s more than just a hobby - he has been accredited press photographer during many (sports) events.

Radio = He was a radio operator during the time he served in the Marine Corps. Also..he’s hosted a radio show (radio DJ) during his later career

Red light in the room = photography reference. In the DarkRoom red light is used when developing photo film/photographs.

Buddha figurine (Dalai Lama/Llama joke) = He is a buddhist.

Joker = he is a joker aka comedian

Seattle = He is the co-owner of a Seattle Football Club.

Playing cards = He took part in the celebrity poker game in 2003, where he did better than Jack Black did (played against Jack Black)

Nerd herd = He did take part in Zack levis (Chuck) “Nerd herd” lightsaber race one time at a Comic-Con convention.

Nerd herd = his show (DCS) & character were/was about nerds/was a nerd

Llama’s side tongue = early in his stand-up comedy days he had a joke with a side-tie (it looked visually very similar to what the llama’s tongue looks like - he just added some wires & tape to do “the trick” of swinging the tie to the side)

BONUS: He knows last years winner, “The Fox Mask” - they did “Whose Line is it Anyway” together, so... connection...

SPOILER ALERT: Llama is the mask who will be voted off next - in ep 2 (on Wed, Feb 5th). But while his voice might not be as trained as some other contestants, I loved his stage energy, and the comedy/fun he brought! One more song coming from him! And no, I am not sharing some secret info - they “accidentally” revealed the first two contestants, who get unmasked, so it’s been revealed by the network...for those, who notice small details...

MISS MONSTER

CLUES:

Location: Lady’s restroom/bathroom. The moster getting ready (coming hair, applying hairspray...)

Location: school hallway - lockers

VISUAL CLUES:

Sign: (image) ladies restroom

Itmes on the counter in bathroom/dressing room: Furspray (hairsray) can, pink bottle of some beauty product, three crystals (stones), a piece of sequin fabric

Key/Keychain: a single (old style) key with a keychain that says “FUN” #FUN #KEY = FUNKY = “QUEEN OF FUNK”

Purple furry diary/good luck charm/cosmetics bag/pencil box (with a face + kitty ears & unicorn horn) + a glittery pen

Lockers: Lockers numbered 10 (the ones she opens) & 11 (the one next to it)...with no other lockers having numbers on them

Miss Monster Locker: filled with images of S1 Monster, scrapbook flowers..etc...

Piece of paper on the locker door: Monster Hits.

Photograph of a cityscape (skyline with many skyscrapers) on the locker door [if I could only see the image better to know which city it is on it, that’d be one more clue]

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

“When you become famous, people want you to look or act in a certain way. They forget that you started off as just a shy little monster.”

“It didn’t take long for me to be misunderstood. So I’m here to set the record straight. Just like my favourite creature in Season 1 did. The Monster. He made me feel. He re-wrote his story. It was fire!"

“And now this performer in pink wants to follow in his furry footsteps, But darlings... I’m nervous. Will you still love me without knowing my name?”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Something to Talk about” by Bonnie Raitt

Look/Costume: pink & purple/violet furry costume with a bowtie

Height: she is short-ish (shorter than host Nick). She looks very short (barely 5 feet - more Dolly P. height 152cm than Chaka K height 162cm)

Mic hand: Right

Talking: NO ON-STAGE TALKING!

GUESSES:

Chaka Khan

Dolly Parton (since the total number of Grammy noms that the 18 contestants have in combined in 69 & Robot as the first revealed one has had 24-25 of them, that leaves only 44-45 for everyone else, that rules out this person, because she alone has had 46 nominations...compared to C. Khan’s 22 noms)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

Number 10 = She has 10 Grammy Awards/wins. (interestinly: both D. Parton & C. Khan have 10 Grammy wins!)

Monster Hits = she has had (many) hit songs during her career

He made me feel = She has a song by the title “I Feel You” (1984 hit)

It was fire = She has a song by the title “Through the Fire” (1985)

Will you love me - that is (word for word) the title of of her her hit songs, “Will You Love Me?” (2007)

It was fire = She wrote the hit song “Fule to the Flame” (1967 hit) for Skeeter Davis.

Will you still love me? = She has/wrote a song titled “I will always love you”

Furspray/Hairsray = he was/is known for her big hair/haircut (managing that probably takes lots of hairspray)

FUN = FUN(K) #FUN KEY [FUN:KI] - she’s kinda the “queen of funk” (one of her albums is titled “FUNk This” (btw: Pun intended by her!)

TURTLE

CLUES

Location: school’s track & field event (Balzano Track Field) - contestants getting ready to run. The slow turtle surrounded by fast bunnies, all preparing for the event. [Slow & steady (turtle) wins the race]

Location: Schools track & field event - BANG! The race begings. The three other contestants (MIB as bunnies - wearing pink bunny ears - starting the race with a head start, all jumping on their blue bouncy balls)

VISUAL CLUES:

Turtle vs bunnies

BANG! in comic style - to mark the start of the race

The others (three bunnies) bouncing on blue balls whe n the race begins

Surf board - the turtle poliching/cleaning his poink & blue surf board

Pins on the track...popping the blue jumpy balls

Grilling burgers on an (outside) grill...on the track field.

Turtle crossing the finish line first (bunnies just going in circles, being stopped by pins on the way, or other reasons), as he has time to do other things & take it slowly, and then still get there first...with a burger in hand & winning the golden medal.

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

"At the starting-line of my career I was surrounded by other hungry new-comers. It felt like everyone around me was fighting tooth-and-nail for the dream. And I watched as many of those stars burned too brightly, too quickly, and then fizzled down”

“I’m a turtle, because I’m always taking it step-by-step.”

“Slow and steady wins the race. But now I feel like I’m ready to break out of my shell. After years of preparation I would love to make a big splash. So I don’t want anyone to cross that finish line before me.”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Kiss from a Rose” by Seal

Look/Costume: Punk/Rock-style, dressed in leather (pants, jacket), has a spike (hair)

Height: Short-ish (shorter than host Nick) - seems around 175cm. Small in size.

Mic hand: Right

Talking: “It’s hot. It’s really hot. And it’s heavy!” (when answering how doesn it feel to be in that costume and perform in it)

GUESSES

Jesse McCartney

Joey McIntyre PS. I tried connecting the voice to any boy-bands (of 1990s & 2000s), but I coukdnt. Even after some “research” - listening to each possible candidate...and IMO it’s none of them. The voices dont match, the heights doesn’t match---But it did sound like someone, who for me was a one-hit-wonder. Yeah, I only know that one song (and one more) from him... but voice seemed familiar.

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES:

Surf board = that he is a surfer; that he is from Cali/Australia/somewhere which is known as being popular among surfers; that he has won Teen Choice Award(s) (this award in in the shape of a surfboard)

being surrounded by other new-comers at the start of his career = either he got his start through a (singing) competition and was one of many contestants fighting for the win AND/OR he got his start in a “boy-band” and was one of the youngsters looking for fame...

Surf board = Teen Choice Awards - winning several TCAs for his first/biggest hit song/album in 2005, and more. And he’s played a surfer character on a TV show

BSB references/connection - he was the opening act in 2005 for BSB during the European part of the tour.

Dream = he started in a boy-band with the name “Dream Street”

on stage presence/body language (movements) = very similar to J.M.

WHITE TIGER

CLUES:

Location: Football field. Tiger striking a power/winners pose.

Location: School hallway, lockers. Tiger walking in, shoving everyone out of his way.

Locatrion: School library (sitting behind a table, with his legs on the table)

Location: School hallway, lockers. MIB trying to get him to audition for TMS. MIB (fans) taking selfies with him.

VISUAL CLUES:

Golden plate/sign with text: Ultimate champion for clam shucking: 51 clams” (next to a golden clam shell)

Sign/ad on the wall: “Masked Singer tryouts 5/3.” + images of three past masks included: Eagle, Lion & Raven. Plus the text: “Hurry. Not for long" also written on it.

Sign on the all with images of past US presidents, including Abe Lincolns & the text/quote “Four Score and Seven Years Ago...”

The TMS golden mask throphee shown next to the lockers (as Tiger says “let’s party!”)

AUDIO CLUES/VOICEOVER:

“Ready to meet your next champion? My entire life I’ve sought out perfection, so choosing a mask with unlimited power like the White Tiger was a no-brainer.”

“I’ve had a giant career full of accomplishments. But when I imagine being on stage (and) singing, I’m a big old scared cat.*

“It’s been a while since I did something that scared me, so I’m here to concour yet anither challenge.”

“What’s my motivation? My fans! I don’t wanna let them down."

“So now I’m ready to get in that ring and smash the competition.”

“Let’s party!”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice “Ice Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice

Look/Costume: Dressed in “Egyptian style"

Height: very tall & big (much taller than host Nick) - over 190cm, looks about 2m tall

Mic hand: R & L (alternates)

Talking: “It’s the most powerful I’ve ever felt. Like I can concour anything. I never wanna take it off” (when answering what did it feel like when he first put on the costume/mask)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES:

He played during the 51st (51 clams) & 53rd (5/3) Super Bowl games.

The three past TMS masks shown are all animals that are parts of names of existing football teams: Ravens, Eagles, Lions. Meaning he is an athlete & specifically plays american football (NFL)

The Lincoln quote translates to “87 years ago...”, so number 87 is the clue here. This could be a reference to player No. 87.

He has had a very succesful career in his own field (sports). Singing is not his main job.

IF the voice-overs were done later, not during initial filming, then it’s possible that “smash” relates to the person smashing a lego-statue of a TV host during 2019/2020 New Years. Which in itself was supposed to be about his famous “Gronk Spike” during football games.

A tiger (albeit “regular”, not white) was one of the characters & costumes + name of the sports team in the Katy Perry video “Swish Swich”, where this athlete also appeared.

The Golden (Golden Mask) trophe - most likely a reference to his many wins (the trophees he/his team has won)

GUESSES:

Rob Gronkowski (Gronk, athlete, 198cm) = 99% certain it’s him

Because of the height alone (seems to be around/almost 2m = 6 feet 5) there are not that many possibilities at all. Even if we don’t listen to that voice or consider the clues. Based on height alone it can basiclaly be only one of these names: Dave Bautista (198cm); The Rock (196cm); Hulk Hogan (201cm); Tyler Perry (196cm); Brad Garrett (204cm); Joe Manganiello (196cm); Jeff Goldblum (194cm); Jason Mamoa (193cm); Tom Brady (193cm)..or the likes...

Even other possible names, like the ones listed by the panel, are not valid guesses, because of their height: John Cena for example is actually only 185cm tall. Also... several of these tall men are bigger/more muscular, so that makes it even easier to determine the name based on only the physical appeance...without even listening to the clues.

ROBOT

First mask to be voted out in ep 1

Havent listed his clues, cause there’s no use for them anymore, as he was voted off.

With his 86 tattoos he makes up for about half of all the 160 tattoos the 18 contestants have combined. With his 24-25 Grammy nominations he makes up about 1/3 of all the 69 noms the 18 contestants have combined. And quite many of the 88 gold records the 18 contestants have combined, belong to him (I don’t know the exact number, but most/all of his 10+ albums have gone gold, I think) - exact number depends on how they count it for this list.

<<<<< THIS IS WHAT GOES ON IN MY HEAD AFTER EVERY TMS SHOW/EPISODE. THIS IS HOW I CATEGORIZE THE INFO I HAVE INTO FOLDERS IN MY MIND. THIS IS HOW SPECIFIC I AM, AND HOW INTO DETAILS I GO. THIS IS HOW MUCH I PAY ATTENTION (while, most likely, missing a ton of more hints that I’ll only notice during re-watch) I JUST DECIDED TO WRITE IT DOWN...FOR ONCE.

BUT... unless I decide to cut some sleep time to do this again, I am probabky not gonna do this after every episode. Possibly for the first episode of every Group (so beside ep 1, also ep 4 & ep 7)

#THE MASKED SINGER #TMS #SPOILER #TMS SPOILER #TMS US #THE MASKED SINGER USA #THE MASKED SINGER SEASON 3 #TMS S3 #TMS SEASON 3 #THE MASKED SINGER S3 #MASKED SINGER

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letteredlettered · 5 years

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Schitt’s Creek post season 1 AU

98% certain I won’t write this, but. At the end of Season 1, Johnny does sell the town, and David does go back to NYC, and Stevie does come with him. They do get a two-bedroom in Manhattan, but the sale of the town does not fully restore their former wealth, so David is on some level aware that he has to make a living, so he signs a lease on a gallery space, thinking this is how he’ll make money. His mother reveals that they were helping him with his galleries before, but he has already signed the lease, and he’s convinced he can do it, but the gallery does not go well, and he gets terrible business advice from people who want to exploit him. Stevie gets a job in a hotel.

Then Stevie’s aunt dies and she finds out her aunt still left her the motel, so she has to go back to Schitt’s Creek to take care of business. But she doesn’t have anyone to help her, and it’s overwhelming and confusing, so she gets this business consultant to go through all the documents with her. And he is super sassy and great at finances and kind of appears to be at loose ends, so she asks him to work with Ray to help her sell the motel. So she comes back to her apartment with David but stays in touch with this guy who updates her on the status of the motel; his name is Patrick, and she actually talks to him a lot. David teases her and calls him her boyfriend.

Then Patrick finally get a buyer for the motel, and Stevie keeps putting Patrick off, because she has all these doubts. The Roses sold the town, but are they really happier? Is she really happier, here in NYC? And if she sells, she’ll never have a home to go back to, and she’s not sure this is what she wants. So she keeps delaying and delaying and Patrick keeps calling and calling. And finally Patrick being Patrick flies to NYC to meet with her and talk to her and find out what’s wrong and get her to sign the papers. And he’s staying in like, idk, a very sketch air B&B; the flight out here was already more than he should have spent, and Stevie tells him he has to stay with them, and David is very annoyed about it. And while Patrick is there, he sorts out that Stevie doesn’t want to sell, and he offers to manage the motel for her, and she says, “Okay, why don’t you manage David’s gallery because he’s awful at it?”

And David is like EXCUSE ME but. Patrick is very smart and sensible and wears ugly clothes and is from a small town so might not be as terrible as all the other people trying to exploit him; also he was really good to Stevie and people who are good to Stevie get a lot of points. Patrick points out he will be in Schitt’s Creek managing the motel and so cannot manage David’s galleries and also he knows nothing about art galleries. But um, that ceramist he’s showing sells lots of her pottery online and none of her sculptures are selling; why isn’t David trying to sell things people actually use? And David tries to explain the difference between craft and art and Patrick is like okay, cool, I only know stuff about profit margins not art so look I’m no help to you, and David is like, wait I want profit margins. And Patrick is like okay, then you need to sell those crafts, and David is like all right I don’t want to but I need business advice. So Patrick says okay.

Then David and Patrick have a long distance business relationship with emails and texts and skype and phone calls, and it takes a lot lot lot longer for the kissing to happen because long distance. Actually I mean Patrick probably started dating Ken because Ken was cute and interested and there, and Patrick feels like he might be gay so he might as well try even though he’s turned off by Ken’s shoes. And at one point Patrick mentions dating Ken and David like . . . loses his mind, because if he had known Patrick was gay he would have DONE something and Stevie is like what would you have done and David is like HIM I WOULD HAVE DONE HIM and Stevie is like you are so eloquent.

There is a lot more to this story about how Patrick guides David’s business in the direction of a boutique with high end crafts and wellness products made by rural artists but also for some reason there’s this whole other thread about how the gallery is not really workable as boutique real estate but David wants to keep the gallery space and use it as an event space, because he always wanted to do an event business because he’d be so good making beautiful events but would really fail on the business end, and Patrick is like okay, we can do this we should get your sister in on this, and David is like my sister is in Hanoi wtf can she do, and Patrick is like social media and David is like but why my sister, and Patrick is like, because she’s an influencer? And he puts together this whole market plan, and he meets with Alexis and she asks how Schitt’s Creek is, and he mentions Ted, who is still broken-hearted, but trying to move on.

And the event business involves hosting some events as examples of the kind of events they could plan/have in the event space, and it involves some old connections the Roses have and they end up pretty successful because David is in fact really good at planning parties. So the business kind of starts to get noticed? And they do get some clients but they have to keep up like a steady stream of events and can’t fill them all in so they’re having some events that are literally, just, cobbled together with what they have, and Patrick plays his guitar at one, and Stevie does standup at another, and David is mortified at the idea of both of these things and they are both really good and Stevie gets noticed, like get noticed in a big way, and I think Stevie might become, like, a star? But I’m not sure about Patrick, he’s fallen in love with David by that time and broken up with Ken and all he wants is to make every single one of David’s dreams come true, and Ray is doing pretty well with the motel back in Schitt’s Creek and Patrick feels like he should move to NYC so he can be a part of David’s business.

I think the reason I’m not going to write this is I don’t know where to go from here. Like, Patrick doesn’t really like Manhattan; he feels rushed and overwhelmed, and David is still not quite the person he becomes in canon. Possibly they date long distance and neither of them like it, and Patrick is willing to move for him but David knows Patrick doesn’t like it, and David doesn’t actually like it either. What if, actually, they end up living in Brooklyn (which David disses SEVERAL times in canon) where it’s maybe still too huge and fast-paced but Patrick feels like they can actually at least afford a little place and they try it and David realizes he would go anywhere with him, live anywhere with him, and meanwhile Alexis has made marketing into a real career.

#schitt's creek

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bigtittyhimmler-blog · 5 years

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Luke Turner fights antisemitism

It is without pleasure that I must announce that the door of the third bathroom stall to the left in Berlin Ostbanhof train station has chosen to participate in a virulent antisemitic hate campaign against me by slamming itself shut on my exposed dick, inflicting serious damage to my penile tissue, and causing the end of my dick to turn purple and swell alarmingly. While this attack was shocking, it was sadly not unexpected. Doors have a long and documented history of collaboration with far-right ideology. For instance, the Nazi architect Albert Speer’s designs frequently involved doors or door-like structures. This attack was clearly intended to evoke cruel and disgraceful antisemitic tropes: by mutilating my dick, the door alluded to the notion of the ‘castrated Jew,’ while also mocking the religious practice of circumcision.

This vile attack has forced me to withdraw from the bathrooms at Berlin Ostbanhof train station, where I can no longer allow strange men to fuck me in the ass. I encourage my fellow artists, writers, and curators to do the same. I suggest that the train station be demolished entirely, and replaced with a public showing of my 2014 artwork WHAT IS A TWIG, consisting of a black canvas printed with the words ‘what is a twig’ in a different shade of black. I have written to every company that posted advertisements in the Ostbanhof, asking them why they continue to support structurally antisemitic institutions. While I am still awaiting a reply, I am shocked that trains are continuing at stop at this station, literally platforming abuse.

It should be obvious why this is taking place. The violence against me has severely disrupted #TRUMPISARIGHTWANKER, a performance art piece in which I livestream myself gently masturbating for eight solid days to footage of my previous work, #TWOFINGERSFORTRUMP, itself a video installation that shows me masturbating to my 2017 intervention, #BUGGERTRUMP. (This last work, an extended touring project, was sabotaged by alt-right fascists who perforated one of my testicles with a kebab skewer.) My art aims to create a participatory, welcoming, and loving digital space in which the public is invited to take part in the process of artistic production by telling me how wonderful I am. As such, it’s a powerful rebuke against the politics of racism and division.

I wish I could say that this assault was an isolated incident. However, as a result of my courage in speaking up against people I don’t like, there have been multiple racist attacks on me and my work from within the art world in only the last 36 hours:

Instagram user “@squantblort” published a photograph of a frog sitting on a lilypad. The frog has an unfortunate association with the fascist ‘alt-right’ movement, which has repeatedly threatened, harassed, wedgied, and humiliated me. This image was ‘liked’ by CUNY adjunct Daniel Daintree, a supposedly ‘left-wing’ intellectual who clearly has no problem indulging in racist imagery. I demand that Daintree be fired.

Well-known New York artist Julia Klurpell had a dream about me in which I was a glob of tar floating in a gutter. Associating Jews with gutters, filth, disease, and sewage is a rancid and ugly antisemitic trope, deployed frequently in Nazi propaganda. Despite the art world’s silence on this utterly unacceptable dream, I’m brave enough to insist that there is no possible excuse for platforming racist harassment inside your own head. I demand that Klurpell submit to a full frontal lobotomy.

In the Crafts 4 Kidz workshop in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, an eight-year-old boy failed to spin a bowl on a potter’s wheel, and said that ‘the Turner is stupid.’ Attributing personal failures to Jewish influence is a shocking and vile antisemitic trope. By allowing this child to remain on its premises, the Crafts 4 Kidz workshop has directly platformed hate speech and enabled harassment against Jewish artists. I demand a) a full and sincere apology from the workshop b) that the child be permanently deplatformed from Crafts 4 Kids, along with all other workshops, galleries, exhibition spaces, biennales, and places that look nice, c) that before he’s ejected the child’s ceramics are smashed in front of him, d) that all Crafts 4 Kids employees take turns stamping on the shards of broken pottery, and e) restitution of $1.6 million. Only then can the Crafts 4 Kids workshop begin to repair the damage wrought by its long history of complicity with fascism.

The Louvre is in Europe, a continent historically occupied by Nazis, and contains none of my works.

When I started furiously retweeting myself about all this, twitter user “@homosexual_kumquats” harassed, gaslit, and cruelly taunted me, telling me to ‘calm down dude’ and ‘get a grip.’ This gaslighting is clearly an example of antisemitic denialism, insinuating that Nazi hate crimes like the Holocaust or the eight-year-old boy’s pottery comment were ‘false flags,’ invented by Jews. Who is “@homosexual_kumquats”? How are they connected to the violent hate campaign being waged against me by the door, the frog, the dream, the child, the Louvre, the sky, and the moon? I am going to spend three months exhaustively going through their social media history. I am going to find out where they live, and install listening devices in their home to see if they ever laugh at any joke at my expense. I am engaged in calling out fascism and antisemitism in the art world, and if anyone publicly states that this is ‘bizarre’ or ‘creepy’ or ‘obsessive,’ or that I’m a ‘dead-eyed narcissist,’ or that I’m ‘pathologically fixated on trying to cause suffering for others under the flimsy pretense of fighting oppression,’ or that I ‘hide behind a Jewish identity to deflect any and all criticism of my stalkerish fixations,’ or that I believe ‘all such criticism of myself or my deeply weird behavior is inherently illegitimate and racist,’ or that I’m a ‘big dumb crybaby bitch who can’t stop writing open letters every time someone upsets me,’ or that I’m ‘the heir to the vast Turner-Bianca PLC textiles fortune, and have used that money to buy myself an art career I don’t really deserve, which is kinda par for the course in the industry, but instead of actually producing any worthwhile art I’ve chosen to deploy my incredibly privileged position to mount endless crusades against extremely marginal art-world figures while ludicrously positioning myself as a perpetual victim,’ or that I’m a ‘habitual liar and hysteric,’ or that I’m ‘drunk on moral self-righteousness,’ or that I ‘keep pretending that the contemporary art scene, which is probably the safest place for Jewish people in the world, is actually a hive of antisemitism, because some weirdos who make frog sculptures don’t like me,’ or that I’m ‘riding the coat-tails of a popular and necessary movement against fascism to pursue my own personal vendettas,’ or that I ‘seem to take particular delight in trying to disrupt the careers and livelihoods of young women,’ or that my face ‘looks like a squished bug,’ or that I ‘got my dick trapped in the door at a train station bathroom while jerking off to footage of myself and now it’s turned all gross and purple,’ then this can only be because they’re fascists and antisemites themselves.

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andmynewlymeltedheart · 5 years

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Have a hodge podge of questions cuz I couldn't pick just one haha (but you don't have to answer all of them!): What's your favorite taz balance moment? Amnesty moment? Top 5 ships (from anything!). If you could have any job in the world, what would you do?

Giving you five moments from the Balance arc bc I’m cry I love it so much (they’re not even top 5 they’re just ones I’m thinking about right now I HAVE NO FAVORITES I LOVE IT ALL)

BIG SPOILERS Y’ALL FOR TAZ, VERONICA MARS, A BUNCH O SHIT IDK

5. Barry Returns

STURDY. DENIM. BLUE. FUCK ME RUNNING.

No really tho the first time I heard that I was running on the treadmill and all of my surpressed weird girl energy from when I was 10 and didn’t want to get bullied JUMPED out and I screamed. I also turned up my speed very high.

4. The Lunar Interlude Music

I know it’s not a specific moment but every time it comes on I feel instantly at peace.

3. Taako and Kravitz’s pottery class at the ole Chug and Squeeze

Okay first of all Justin said “Chug and Squeeze” and I nearly pissed myself but like. That. Taako making a vase bc he could give a shit what they want him to make bc HE WILL NOT CHAIN HIS MUSE. The spell charging out of the umbrastaff (MY LOVELY GAL). These two fucking idiots falling in love with each other after like 20 minutes of knowing each other and all of us being like FUCK YEAH THEYRE IN LOVE

2. Barry and Lup’s duet

Their love. The way it builds over a half century. How in tune with each other they are, how much they understand each other and trust each other and challenge each other. And how they stay so PASSIONATELY in love after about fifty years. They are what I hope for some day.

1. Magnus and the Chalice/ Magnus’ Death

Magnus sees Julia after her death twice. The first time, with the chalice, is gut wrenching. This person that our sweet goofy and loveable Magnus loved with more of himself than should have been possible stands before him, just out of reach, and the opportunity to save her presents itself to him. And he doesn’t take it. Because even though his life has been hard without her, she wouldn’t want him to bring her back. And that’s why his ending is so beautiful. Major character deaths are often used to motivate a living character, to take something dear from them, or to cheaply tie up things because a writer doesn’t want to take the time to give the proper ending (ahem VMARS). But Magnus’ death is filled with love and happiness from a long and full life that he never expected to live out. There was a period of time where a lot of his risky behaviors could be called suicidal, and the fact that he not only lives but lives happily is so good. And he passes happily, too. And he’s taken to the love of his life, she’s the first person he sees. And I was crying throughout the whole scene, but as soon as Reeder’s waltz for “Julia” began to play, I was inconsolable. I cried about it on and off for days. I had never had the pleasure of such a beautiful ending for anyone in anything I had ever read, seen, or heard before.

NOTE: in all seriousness the balance arc is one of the most beautiful, gut wrenching, cathartic, and satisfying pieces I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. Remembering my first listen through feels like a fond memory with an old friend. Those boys don’t know what they did for me, but Balance helped me when I was in a really bad spot in my life, worse than right now. Maybe Balance is what I could use again. I don’t know.

AMNESTY

3. “I love you all dearly, very much, as my family. I would bury a bowie knife in any of your chests to eat French Onion soup this exact second.” FUCKEN SAME JUSTIN

2. Duck the Mundane

DUCK BECOMJGN THE MUNDANE AND JUST HAVING ONE MULTIMONTH PANIC ATTACK WAS SUCH A BIG FUCKEN MOOD FUCK ME

1. Ned’s secret

The fact that his secret that he kept from Aubrey destroyed him and redeemed him. That’s such a testament to how Clint played Ned’s character. It’s such a nuanced situation. Ned wants Aubrey’s trust so badly. He realizes he has it. And then he realizes how quickly he’s losing it because it’s all build on the faulty foundation of a massive secret about what happened to Aubrey’s mother. And that when Aubrey tells him to leave, he only stays a little longer to save everyone else. And he has his moment of redemption in the heroism of his biggest sacrifice. And he sees the stars...and they’re beautiful. And he’s at peace in some way.

That’s why his death felt meaningful.

5. Veronica and Logan, Veronica Mars

I am sad and angry right now and am pretending season 4 ended 5 minutes before it actually did

4. Elizabeth and Darcy, Pride & Prejudice

I know it’s a ship from a book that is hundreds of years old do you THINK I CARE no they’re everything

3. Natasha Rostova And Pierre Bezukhov, War & Peace

Again I KNOW OLD BOOK DONT YELL AT ME they’re just VERY GOOD TOGETHER

2. Juliet Ashton and Dawsey Adams, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Two lonely people who have been through some SHIT quietly find love and a home in each other? Hell YEAH (also the book is a billion times better than the movie)

1. Barry and Lup

Gonna probs restate some shit from earlier BUT

Goodness me the quiet but palpable build of their love. How they respect each other. How they make each other laugh. How they understand each other. How they trust each other. How they CHALLENGE each other. And then with all of that they remain desperately in love, no matter how much time has passed. Their story is everything I dream of. I love them.

If I could have a dream job, I’m sure it sounds silly and cliche but I’ve just so badly, and for so long wanted to be a musical theatre actress. But I don’t know that I’m good enough or pretty enough or whatever. I feel very lost re: my career right now.

#thank you so much #this got me focused on something else for awhile and i appreciate that

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cuckoomagazine · 5 years

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Interview with Kara Leigh Ford

Tell us a little about yourself.

I'm Kara, I live and work in Somerset, South West England. I am a full time potter making tableware and art from my studio at the bottom of my garden. My work is inspired by the textures and colours of the south west coastline. I live with my husband Tom and two rescue cats Luna and Flora.

When did you start working with ceramics and how did it all begin?

This is a bit of a long story, so here it is in a nutshell. I studied fine art at university but never touched clay until after I graduated in 2005. Due to the lack of jobs in the arts sector and no skills to speak of on how to making a living from being an artist I took a job in branding and marketing. I decided to do an evening class in pottery to keep my creative juices flowing - from that moment on I was hooked. Painting was always a source of frustration for me - I was never really able to get across what I wanted to say on canvas but clay afforded the extensity I was always looking for - seeing a lump of mud transform into a bowl was like alchemy to me. In 2014, a close friend of mine died of cancer - at the age of 32 - it was a huge wake up call that we only have one life. After much discussion with my family and friends - I packed in the career I had grown to resent and became a full time potter. With hindsight the marketing job gave me a lot of business skills the degree did not - how to build a brand, copy writing, budget management so I am actually very grateful for that time now.

Describe your style in 3 words.

Calm, Uncluttered, Natural

Do you sell your work online?

I do indeed! I sell predominantly from my website karaleighfordceramics.com I also have an Etsy shop - and ship internationally.

What is your proudest moment to date?

Seeing my travel mugs for sale in Fortnum and Mason was a pretty mind blowing experience. I was asked to go and meet one of the buyers in their Piccadilly store - I don't think I have ever been so nervous. I also supply pottery to a restaurant in York called Le Cochon Avegule - they have been voted one of top 100 restaurants in the country - I am very proud that their exquisite food is served on my plates.

Tell us about your work space.

I originally began working from a tiny 9ft x 6ft shed painted like a beach hut - but soon out grew it. Last summer, I invested in a purpose built pottery studio. I have two wheels, lots of shelving and a beautiful reclaimed wood and gas pipe work bench. My original little studio now houses my two kilns.

What do you enjoy most about your job and what do you find challenging?

I love the freedom to create, I'm an introvert so love nothing more than spending my days in my studio playing about with new forms or discovering new glaze combinations. I find focusing on tasks quite challenging - I struggle to concentrate on one thing at a time and tend to waste time flitting from one project to another, this results in working longer days than I really need to - it's something I am working on. Im also very easily distracted by emails or social media plus dyslexia means writing is often a cause of anxiety.

What is success to you?

Success for me is a feeling or a state of being rather than a destination. It's all too easy to say: 'when my business reaches 50K followers on Instagram I'll be successful' or 'when I am turning over 60K a year I'll be successful'. I try and be really mindful about how lucky I am to do what I love every day.

What keeps you motivated?

Discovery and learning keeps me coming back to the potter's wheel/ work bench. There is so much depth to my craft, it would take many life times to explore it all fully but I am giving it a really good go.

Have you any particular goals for the future?

I want my business to be able to facilitate my life (not the other way round) - I want it to give me the freedom to travel and see the world, experience other cultures and truly make the most of my time on planet earth. I'd also love my business to be carbon neutral - it would be the dream to be able to run my kilns on solar power one day. I've already cut out 99% of plastic from my packaging.

#ceramics #pottery #design #art #artist #creative #interview #online #magazine #ireland #cuckoomagazine #read #blog #blogging

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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vividfragments · 5 years

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21 Questions!

I was going to take a break from this website but @surrealistwaltz tagged me for this 21 questions quiz, thank you!! This is gonna take me back to those 2005 Myspace days, these are fun.

Nicknames: My names Philip so a lot of family and even a few coworkers call me Philly which is nice, it's comforting and endearing. Also one of my friends mom called me Philomena and another friends Dad would call me Philbert which made me laugh. Also probably some bad ones lol.

Zodiac: I don't really put a lot of stock in zodiac signs but I'm a Leo

Height: I'm 6 feet or 1.82 (omg) meters tall.

Amount of sleep: I dunno what this is asking but I got like 4 hours last night?

Last movie I saw: I just recently watched deadman, its one of my favorites. It's kinda like an artsy, psychadellic, like, I dont wanna say western because that genre has an lot of tropes and cliches that this movie doesn't really have but it's set when industrialzation was starting to spread towards the west, more specifically to the film, the Pacific northwest of the US. It's a good movie to watch on a rainy, chilly night.

Last thing I googled: what 6 feet is in meters ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I suck at math.

Favorite musician: I'm taking this question as favorite single musician and I have lots but the first 2 that come to my head are Chopin and Klaus Flouride (one of my fav bassists)

Song stuck in my head: literally Voices Carry by 'Til Tuesday. I was in the market today and it was playing and I was singing it to myself, then I noticed a lot of people were doing the same and they were all different age groups and genders, it was cute. Damn that song is catchy... ~oooooooooh shush...

Other blogs: This is my only blog!

Do I get asks: Lol I actually haven't had an ask yet. Wish I did though, I can be fun sometimes.

Blogs following: I like following lots of different stuff. This is a place I like, try to expose myself to art, music, and other things that put my heart in a nice place. It can backfire sometimes though, whether its something that puts me into feelings or seeing people being stupid in comments or you know, the fact racist blogs can exist on here. I'm happy I made this though, it's been more positive than negative for sure.

Lucky numbers: 4, 33, and 44

What I'm wearing: I'm wearing some sort of cardigan like sweater that doesnt open up or have buttons and its burgundy (my fav color) with black jeans and socks tbh. Also my glasses.

Dream trip: Prague would be interesting, theres a lot of cool art and architecture there. I'm not religious or anything but I feel like visiting St. Peter's Square would be really surreal and kind of creepy? Going to a place like Australia or what @surrealistwaltz said, Greenland would be neat. I feel like those places could make you feel as though you're on a completely different planet.

Dream Job: I wanna teach history! Preferably high school, then if I cant stand how kids act I'll work my way up to the collegiate level. I wanna teach history because looking back at what we learn in schools here in America is watered down, especially when it comes to the bad that Americans have done and the negative impact its had on groups of parole and honestly, bug chunks of the globe.I believe there needs to be at least on teacher in a students k-12 scholastic career who calls out the borderline history revisonment that is being taught to kids so wrecklessly. The United States definitely needs to do what they do in Germany when it comes to teaching about atrocities committed in the past. Whomever is on the winning side of history should NOT MATTER. If theres a group of people that has been suppressed or continues to be suppressed, there needs to be at least ONE person who introduces the brutal hard truth of what happened. Here in the states you get the "I didn't participate in slavery or the genocide of Native Americans, it's not something I need to hear in detail" and it literally pisses me off, it misses the whole point of education. This fires me up, sorry.....

Favorite food: literally any type of pasta or noodles. It doesnt matter if it's in soup, if its Italian, Chinese, Japanese, vietnamese, if it has noodles and doesn't have meat then I'm so happy to just demolish whatever is in front of me. Also chips and salsa is refreshing and satisfying. I'm half Mexican so any type of Mexican food that doesn't use anything from animals is always a go to. My fav fruits are cherries, tangerines, and pears. My favorite veggies are asparagus, green beans, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts. I can make some v good Brussels sprouts.

Languages: ehh I speak pretty bad Spanish but the foundation is there so when I decide to take it back up when I go to a university, I should be able to learn a lot easier than I did in high school. If not because I have foundation and basic understanding of the language then its because I actually WANT to learn it as opposed to when I was a teenager. German would be really cool too because if I teach and I get upset I can just yell in German and people would think I'm actually insane and hopefully would cut out whatever nonsense they were doing.

Play any instruments: I play Bass off and on. I first got my bass when I was 12, I would just mess around until I was like 14, then I taught myself how to read bass tabs so if there was a song I really liked, I could look up the tablatures and teach myself how to play it and still do that. I wish I would've taken lessons though.

Favorite songs: I have a lot but I'll give a top 5 that I listen to regularly and/or have a special connection with:

Joe Lies by the Bouncing souls

Happy When it Rains by The Jesus and Mary Chain

Bad by U2

When You Sleep by My Bloody Valentine

Oh me, Oh my by Streetlight Manifesto

*bonus guilty pleasure* The One by Backstreet Boys

Random Fact: I can pop my knuckles by just clinching my fist tightly? Also I'm really into ceramics so if I have some clay, kiln, and some glaze I can make stuff on a pottery wheel or hand build it. Mmmmmm also I'm like, really into quoting spongebob. It's kind of gotten out of hand. Also I'm using this question to give a shoutout to my dog, ABBY I LOVE YOU!! I love my dog, she's a ham.

Describe your aesthetic: ...Artsy and rebellious dad... who's cool with you smoking weed as long as you keep your grades up.....

THAT WAS FUN AND MADE ME GENUINELY HAPPY THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME!!!!

Since I brought up Myspace I'm not tagging anyone, we're doing this the 2005 way. If you follow me and are bored or wanna talk PLEASE do this, I wanna read your answers :)

#fun #21 questions #do this #why are quizzes so much fun

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chaos-weekly · 3 years

Text

stupid: exhibit a

This was easily the best night of Bishop’s life. Being able to show off his art to people who actually cared about it was one of his passions, and connecting with other artists who had similar lived experiences made him feel like he wasn’t so alone. He felt like he was part of something bigger than himself, art always had, but the MAP in itself was a safe place for people like him.

He had Esther to thank for that.

He had Esther to thank for a lot of things. She’d thought to include him in this exhibit, of course, but she’d helped him reach out to her contacts from other institutions and museums, inviting them to check out Bishop’s artwork at the exhibit. Because of that, the museum was flooded with scholars and curators and investors and artists, and more had promised to come the rest of the weekend. But recently, she’d become more of a friend than a contact. She’d encouraged him to invite his parents to the exhibit and promised to talk him up to them. She had helped him with his speech and what to wear. And outside of the exhibit preparation, they’d been hanging out more. She had invited him over to share Cameroonian food and told him stories her grandparents had told her about living in Africa. They had painted together, done pottery together, and written poetry together. They’d stared out of windows and created fantasies together. Every moment with her was filled with rich color and light.

It had been two months since they’d first met, but Bishop was falling in love with her.

His romantic sign screamed at him to tell her, but his cynical side reasoned that she hadn’t done anything to really reveal those feelings. So he was silently wistful, daydreaming about what could be if she shared his feelings, if she ever revealed them.

There was a moment earlier in the evening before the event had started when he decided he would tell her. They had been talking, and Esther had paused mid-sentence to straighten the collar of his shirt and smooth the wrinkles on his shoulders. She’d looked into his eyes and smiled when she’d finished, promptly resuming the conversation like she had never stopped. It was so natural that any doubt Bishop had about her not returning his romantic interest faded. He would tell her after the opening weekend of the exhibit was over. If things went badly, the only time he would have to return to the MAP was to pick up his artwork.

But he hoped it wouldn’t, for his own sake and for the sake of his art. What was he supposed to do with the From My Window series (which was almost completed) if she rejected him?

Now that the event was started, he hadn’t seen much of Esther. She took a few moments to check in on him-- like she did with all the other artists-- and introduced him to the people he’d reached out to through her. Everything was professional. He’d always admired Esther’s professional and personal boundaries. Bishop had a difficult time separating who people were professional from who they were in their personal lives. He supposed some of that came from London, who was pretty much the same in both areas.

And speaking of London, his best friend hadn’t come to say hi all night. Sure, Bishop had been talking to people and London was wrapped up with his girlfriend (it felt weird to call Nollie that again), but Nollie and Langston had come by earlier to congratulate him. Even Didi and Varya made their way over to him, and Bishop wouldn’t consider himself to be best friends with either of them.

But back to Nollie and Langston. Seeing them together was weird, but it still felt normal? Bishop wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling; he would have to unpack that later. Now, when he was finishing up a conversation with another artist, was not the time.

The event was winding down, and Bishop could already see that there were less people wandering around than before. Didi and Varya had gone, Nollie and London were nowhere to be seen. Langston was hanging around talking with one of the exhibit’s sculptors-- he had promised Bishop drinks after this. His eyes scanned the room for Esther, and then he saw her. She was leading two older Korean people through the audience, and Bishop’s heart began to pound in his chest.

His parents.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves. They had always had an appreciation for the arts and artists, but it just wasn’t a job for their son. “Art is a hobby, not a career, Bishop,” his father would say, mouth in a tight line. His voice still rang in his head sometimes. But nevertheless, the frequented galleries and orchestras and ballets and plays. And now they were here and an exhibit he was part of in a real museum.

He swallowed his nervousness and greeted them with a smile.

“Mom, Dad,” he said, shaking his father’s hand and hugging his mother. “I’m glad you could make it.” Esther was positively glowing. His parents must have made a good impression.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” his mother said, nodding. “You are our son.” His father said nothing, just nodded in agreement. His exhibits and shows had always been an obligatory event for them, not an outing they actually wanted to attend. Sometimes Bishop wished they just wouldn’t show up at all.

“I see you met Esther,” he said, gesturing to her. She looked beautiful tonight, an emerald green dress and gold jewlery on her body and in her braids.

“Yes, the co-founder of this museum,” Mom said. She looked impressed.

“So young, and she has accomplished so much,” his father said, looking directly into Bishop’s eyes. It was a subtle dig, and judging by the way Esther shifted uncomfortably, she had caught on to it as well.

“Thank you, but I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for artists like your son,” she said, laughing lightly and moving to Bishop’s side (he already felt better). “Bishop’s pieces are absolutely one of the focal points of the exhibit. We’ve had people from across the country fly in to see his work, and there will be a few people from overseas coming later in the weekend as well.” She looked to Bishop as if suddenly remembering something.

“I almost forgot to tell you-- we’ll need to talk sometime later. Gerard from the Art Institute of Chicago wants to loan out one of your pieces after the exhibit for one of his. He’s only in town until Sunday evening and wants arrangements made by then. We need to set up a meeting time.”

Wow. The Art Institute of Chicago wanted his work? They wanted to put his paintings on a wall and display them to thousands of people every day? It was all Bishop could do not to react right then. He could have cried, screamed, jumped-- all things his parents would disapprove of. Instead, he nodded.

“That sounds great. I’ll talk with you about that later tonight.”

“Which painting do they want?” his mother asked Esther. She was eager, excited. Bishop blinked incoming tears out of his eyes. Even his father had a hint of pride in his eyes, his expression not as hard as it had been previously.

“Well, they don’t know,” Esther said. “Maybe you can help us decide?” His mother nodded and Bishop and Esther stepped back to reveal the paintings.

“This is Favorite Meal,” he introduced, pointing to the painting he’d nearly cried over the last time he’d seen it. His mother stepped forward, examining the familiar pattern of her China and the color of their dining room walls. Both of his parents stared at it like they were in a trance.

“It’s about the power of traditional, cultural food, specifically in immigrant families and families with first generation American children, like ours,” Bishop continued, clearing his throat to keep from crying. “Food connects us with each other and with our culture. I remember eating dinner and thinking about how I felt whole, like I was actually Korean. Dinner was the best part of my day a lot of times.”

Esther was beaming at him, arms folded over her chest. Bishop was acutely aware of her presence. It made him feel warm, safe, loved. Here he went again with his feelings, but with his parents in front of him looking like they did it was hard not to feel things.

His mother had silent tears on her cheeks. His father’s eyes glistened with tears. Now Bishop’s eyes were watering, too.

“And this is Proud.” He moved on to the next painting, and both of his parents followed. “This is, um….” Bishop trailed off, realizing he didn’t need to say too much. It was the story of his parents’ immigrating to America, the boat they travelled over on, the living in poverty, the hard work, and finally living the American Dream. His parents knew their own story better than anyone else.

He was crying now. He could see Esther wiping tears off of her cheeks, too.

“It’s just a representation of how proud first generation kids are of their parents who worked so hard to make the lives of their children better,” he choked, wiping tears off his face. “Of how proud I am to have parents who sacrificed so much for me. And I don’t say this near enough, but I love you both, and thank you for everything.”

His mother threw her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. Bishop allowed himself to cry more freely now. And when she pulled away, his father pulled him close as well.

Bishop hadn’t hugged his father since he was sixteen.

“We love you, too,” his father said, and Bishop smiled, pulling away. “And I think that is the painting for Chicago. I think we would like the other one for our office.” Bishop nodded, wiping the tears from his face. He would make sure that happened.

Sure, this didn’t make up for their past disapproval, but at least they saw value in his art now. Things were looking up.

“I think we need to come back and see the rest of the museum tomorrow,” his mother said, looking to Esther.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Jeong.” Esther stepped forward, rejoining Bishop at his side. “I’d be happy to show you around the museum myself.”

“Kind and beautiful,” his mother gushed, looking up at Bishop. She could probably tell just how transfixed his was by her. “Isn’t she beautiful, Bishop?”

“She is,” he agreed, smiling down at her and watching her cheeks darken. Screw the end of the exhibit. Now was feeling as good as ever.

His parents said their goodbyes and left, leaving him and Esther standing together. He looked at her, and they both laughed, happy.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” Bishop said.

“Me too,” she agreed. They stared at each other for a moment before Esther broke the silence.

“Look, about the meeting. I’ll email him right after this. Does tomorrow morning work for you?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But email him now, because after this, you’re joining Langston and I for drinks.”

“Bishop, I don’t want to ruin time with your friend.”

“You’re my friend too,” he said, pausing. He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t think of her as a friend.

“You’re right, we’re friends,” she agreed hurriedly, as if she was avoiding revealing anything else. “But I really can’t. I have to close up. I’m sorry.”

Bishop frowned, but relented.

“If that’s what you want, Esther.”

“It isn’t, but I have to.” She sighed, pulling her buzzing phone from her purse. “I have to get this, But I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She gave him a hug that was all too short, and walked away, typing texts faster than the speed of light.

Da-n, he messed up. He looked to Langston and gave him a thumbs up, signaling that he was ready to go. He really needed that drink.

#chaos weekly #rising from the ashes

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screw1nthetuna · 4 years

Text

From a childhood fascination to Assassins Creed to an A-Level in Egyptolgy?

I cast my mind back to Primary School where we had a trip to the History Museum in London. At the time we were learning about the Greeks and the Egyptians, but it was the latter that took a hold of me and still does to this day.

At the time of the visit, I remember peering through the protective glass at a mummy, perfectly preserved within it’s coffin casing and surround by items belonging to the individual. Gold, pottery, many items, engraved with amazing hieroglyphs.

Further down the aisle were information slabs about the Pyramids of Giza, I cannot remember the exact number of stones used in the Pyramids at the time of reading it, but it was enough to make me realise these were big monuments for sure. It was at this moment, I realised I had a fascination for Ancient Egypt.

FAST FORWARD TO 2017

With me being a big conspiracy theorist (I like to call it ‘alternative realities’), I was watching a lot of late night YouTube videos, taking me into some great documentaries on the secrets of the Pyramids, looking into the astrology and maths around these amazing structures. I started remembering my school trips, which led me to start wanting to know more again about Egypt and why I loved it so much throughout my life. It’s strange sometimes in life it goes so fast, we forget to be curious and take time out to explore and learn more.

So I got this book ‘ A History of Ancient Egypt: From the First Farmers to the Great Pyramid ‘ by John Romer (now an inspiration to me, which we will go on to in a moment) - here is the link to the book if anyone fancies purchasing! https://www.amazon.co.uk/History-Ancient-Egypt-Farmers-Pyramid/dp/0141399716

The book took me back to way before the Pyramids were built and right down to the agricultural beginnings of what was essentially Ancient times. in fact I still have not finished reading the book yet after 3 years. I was about a third of the way through the book, I remember closing it and staring at the front with the thought “Why on Earth have I not gone to see the Pyramids yet?”. This came at a time personally where I had some very hard and difficult things going on in my life that I tried my best to deal with, but it inspired me to think that we sometimes take time for granted and we should do things when we have the chance to. So, me being me, within an hour of thinking that, I booked a flight and hotel for that November in 2017.

In October, when I booked the ‘holiday’, I was recovering from a fractured arm ( football related) to which I started coming back to playing again with my pals on Wednesday nights in Guildford. The problem I have had since I was 17, I am very injury prone, it is like my key trait if I was ever made as a player on FIFA games! The week I came back, I ruptured my ankle ligament (I think for about the 6th time in my highly amateur career). It was safe to say, this one was going to take a LONG time to heal, the swelling and pain was quite simply horrible.

Whilst waiting for my X-Ray, I quickly thought “Uh... I am supposed to be going to Egypt in two weeks”. Then my mind went into meltdown, I had the whole trip planned - Luxor, Abu Simbel, Aswan, Cairo, the lot! Intricate detail, full itinerary to the hour marks. I looked at my ankle and started trying to use mind powers to reduce the swelling, no help.

Anyway, two weeks passed and I found myself at Heathrow. Strange situation, I was on crutches wondering what am I doing going on a plane like this, with my ankle like that. It got more interesting when I was bypassing the big usual queues for check-in etc. by someone kindly pushing me on a wheelchair!

After several hours, I arrived in Cairo Airport, except I forgot to get a Visa....

An hour of talking and filling out forms with the Airport team took place and I was finally on my way... except the hopper bus had left 45 mins prior, so actually I was going nowhere, other than hopping around on my own in an empty airport lounge. It was about 1am at this point, pretty tired. After some haggling with a taxi company I was back on track.

Arriving at La Pyramids Hotel (amazing by the way) around 3am, I was delightfully informed that although I am booked in on this day, technically the room is not available. Sofa in the concierge it is then! I tried to sleep, it was impossible, so many people coming and going. It got to about 6am, I realised it was getting lighter outside, so I got my crutches and thought, I am going for a wonder. I did not get far outside the hotel, but I got far enough to experience something visually amazing. There was a strange mist in the sky, perhaps elements of humidity I do not know. When you see the images of your hotel online, they don’t always feel or look the same when you are actually there, but this time for me, it was 100 times better than the images, I was given something very special to see. Slowly, a silhouette appeared in the distance. In my head I was like “No way are they that close”. The triangle shape got darker as the light improved in the sky. It was time to be introduced to the only existing Wonder left in the World.

I think I stood there for about an hour trying to comprehend the fact that I was actually here, looking at them, with my own eyes. It would not be until the Friday of that week that I would go and actually see them, seeing as my original plan was for me to be at the South of the Nile 7 hours drive away by now, but cancelled due to my injury.

I had to wait patiently all week, staring at the Great Pyramid of Giza from the poolside (Amazing to be able to do that so easily by the way). It would take me 45 minutes to get from my hotel room to the pool, very frustrating, but worth the view (although highly annoying when I would get all the way to the pool and realise I left my music in the room and have to hop back up and return again!).

When Friday came, it was incredible. To be right by the Pyramids, the Sphinx, climbing some of the stones, that have sat there for thousands of years, it is so surreal. The camel ride in the distance, looking back at the Pyramids, your mind can only wonder what these amazing desert lands once looked like, so much is still to be found.

Yes, my journey in Egypt was short, it was reduced in terms of the itinerary, but no one can take away my experience of the Pyramids, the people I met at the hotel, both guests and staff, as well as taking home with me some great items and gifts for others, but more importantly it gave me a massive ambition to return and do it properly again.

FAST FORWARD TO 2020

In January 2020, I obtained a copy of Assasins Creed Origins, it had already been out a few years, but I love the series of games and had to play this one as it was based in Egypt. I found myself climbing the Pyramids, meeting rulers of yesteryear and jumping off of mountains overlooking Siwa and the other Ancient Lands. I started participating in the in-game tours, really cool way to learn about the history of Egypt and take time out from assassinating for a bit.

It was actually this game that helped me learn more and then encouraged me to look into perhaps trying to take this to another level and really learn about Ancient Egypt. I enrolled on a Level 3 Egyptology Diploma. 2011 was when I graduated from University, so it has been a while since having to research a topic and deliver citations etc.

I think when you have a subject you are passionate about, it becomes easier, I found myself flying through modules, amazingly getting 97+% Distinction levels on my first few assignments. I was really impressing myself, I knew I loved the concept and what I was learning about Ancient Egypt, but never envisioned myself smashing it! It was starting to get nerve wracking each time I pressed the submit button on the assignments completion. However, each time the results would come in at high levels, 94%,97%, 100% etc. I realised very quickly that not just with the help of books, but the love I have for Egypt and it’s history is what has allowed me to have passion in this and get great results. I was really really enjoying it. Covering topics of each ruler, every dynasty, racial comments, comparisons of different periodic language, religion, architecture and even the variant opinions of modern historians and their theories and thoughts, whether it be the Greek historians of the early AD periods, or modern Victorian Egyptolgist’s thoughts, it was all amazing to piece together and also make my own conclusions.

My final result came in two weeks after submitting my final assignment, I was officially credited with a Level 3 Egyptology Diploma and Certificate to stick on the wall. I know I will do a degree in Egyptology for sure after this and take it to the next level, hopefully get involved with some digs too, but first I need to finish my Astronomy Level 3 and Mayan/Sumerian Level 3 then I am sure I will continue my Egypt quest..

I now think back, if I had not gone on that trip, which I have to thank my teacher at the time for organising really, or to have read that book by John Romer, which was so detailed and passionately documented, I perhaps would never have gone down any of this path. Generally, I was inspired along the whole way and given something very special from it. My next step is to help fight for Egpyt to get their prized artifacts back home where they belong, for centuries they have been in Museums around the World.

My reward to myself..... Egypt, October 2020. The Full Journey. (This time I won’t play football leading up to it).

Let’s catch up in November and see how it went!

REMEMBER

If you have a dream, or want to learn something, go for it, no matter your age or your level of experience or knowledge, life is for learning and you have more than enough ability to achieve what you want to achieve.

“Be curious” - Stephen Hawking

All the best,

Si Buckingham

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thebaconsandwichofregret · 7 years

Text

Whispers Under Ground - The Domestic

It has been brought to my attention (by the lovely @sixth-light) that I am the only member of the tiny fandom in possession of a copy of Whispers Under Ground with the Waterstones’ short story The Domestic. And since this is probably my favourite of all the ROL shorts I think it’s a crying shame that the rest of the tiny fandom hasn’t read it. so here, for your reading pleasure:

The Domestic by Ben Aaronovitch

The tricky thing about architectural fashion is that it’s never as demarcated as the textbooks make out. The terrace mid-way up Prince of Wales Road was doing its best to pretend it was Regency, but the sash windows, slapdash stucco and half basement all said mid-Victorian at the earliest. I gave it the once over. The paint was grubby rather than dirty and the iron railings had been maintained free of rust. First wave right-to-buy property owner, I thought, from back in the days when Camden Council still had terrace flat conversions on its books.

My domestic lived down a flight of external stairs, in the basement flat. The front door was trapped in an alcove under the steps to what would have originally been the main entrance before the house was sub-divided - the better for the unspeakably common tradesman to come and go as unobtrusively as possible. The doorbell chimed when I pressed it and habit made me step out if the confined alcove while I waited for it to open. It’s always good to have some space to manoeuvre when the door opens - just in case.

When it did open, a little old white woman stuck her head round the doorjamb and peered at me suspiciously.

“Yes,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Mrs Eugenia Fellaman?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“My name’s Peter Grant. I’m a police officer and I wondered if I might come in and have a quick word.” I showed her my warrant card - she wasn’t impressed.

“I’ve already spoken to the other one,” she said.

“Yes Ma’am, I know,” I said. The ‘other one’ being Sergreant Bill Crosslake who had called me in.

“He asked me to talk to you. He thought I might be able to help.”

She stepped out of her front door the better to chase me back up to street level.

“Well he thought wrong,” she said, and as she came into the daylight I saw the faded purple of a bruise on her left cheek.

“Can I ask how you got that bruise?”

I watched as she carefully didn’t lift her hand to her face.

“I walked into the door didn’t I?” she said. “You get like that when you’re a bit older.”

“We both know that’s not true,” I said.

She folded her arms. She was wearing a green woollen loose-knit jumper, clean but with frayed cuffs. Her hair was grey, thinning and gathered back into a pony tail. There was a pair of red framed reading glasses hung around her neck on a black beaded cord. She had grey eyes and a good line in belligerent defiance.

“It was them upstairs that called you in,” she said. “Wasn’t it?”

Actually it had been the couple upstairs, but also the Romanian students next door and a member of the public who’d happened to be walking his dog outside. All had dialled 999 within five minutes of each other, which had prompted an India-Grade response from the area car, which arrived within three minutes. When the responding officers talked their way inside the flat, they found Mrs Fellaman and definite signs of a struggle, but no trace of another person or persons on the premises.

Mrs Fellaman claimed that she was completely alone and that she’d merely fallen against the chair, which had broken, causing her to reach out in an involuntary fashion and pull down a row of ceramic elephants and an antique ormolu clock.

Violent crime, like charity, begins at home. Twenty percent of all murders occur in the home and forty percent of all female murder victims are killed by their partner. Which is why the responding officers gently, but firmly, insisted on searching the flat. They found nobody, and Mrs Fellaman, with a certain amount of satisfaction, sent them on their way.

“We’re concerned about your safety,” I said.

“That’s nice,” she said. “But it’s my patience you should be worried about. That other one, the big one, has been round here two times already and he never found nothing either.”

The Camden response team had passed the details onto the local neighbourhood safety team which was headed by Sergeant Crosslake. He’d talked to the neighbours and confirmed their stories, made a follow up visit to Mrs Fellaman, found nothing, and in frustration sat outside, in his own car, on his own time, the next evening until he heard the argument for himself.

“There was proper rowing,” he’d told me. “And there were definitely two voices.”

But again, when he’d talked himself inside, there was just Mrs Fellaman entirely on her own.

“And there was something else,” Crosslake had said. “There was something off about the flat.”

“Third time lucky,” I told Mrs Fellaman.

“With all this crime around,” she said, “I don’t know why you bother.”

Because when we’re not ticking boxes and achieving performance targets, we actually try to prevent the occasional crime. Not to mention ‘Granny beaten to death after police visit three times - shocker!’ is not the sort of headline you want hanging over your conscience, let alone your career.

“It’s no bother,” I said.

“It is to me,” she said. “And I’m sick and tired of it. Have you got a warrant?”

I admitted that I had not.

“Then you can piss off,” she said, and locked herself back inside.

Crosslake had said there was something off about the flat.

“Your kind of weird bollocks,” he’d told me. “That’s why I called you in.”

Crosslake was career uniform and had been doing neighbourhood policing since back in the days when it was just called ‘policing’. He didn’t have ‘instincts’, he had thirty years of experience - which was much more reliable.

There was no way I was going to get a warrant because part of the Folly’s arrangement with the rest of the criminal justice system is that we don’t bother them with the weird shit and in return they occasionally look the other way when the weird shit happens. But if I was going to barge into Mrs Fellaman’s flat then I’d better make sure that there was actually some weird shit going on so that they could ignore it.

This was a job for Toby the Wonder Dog.

I don’t know whether it was because he was exposed to magic during the Punchinello case or whether all dogs, particularly small yappy ones, have an instinct for the uncanny, but I’ve always found Toby a pretty reliable magic detector. I’ve actually done controlled laboratory experiments that indicate he can detect magical activity up to ten metres away, although false positives can be generated by cats, other dogs and the remote possibility of a sausage.

That’s why I fed him a sausage before we started the stakeout, although that did mean I had to keep the car window open. I parked outside the flat at seven in the evening and settled in. Toby curled up on the passenger seat with his feet twitching, intermittently nudging me in the thigh, and presumably dreaming of squirrels, while I cracked open Juvenal and laboured through the last part of Book III: Flattering Your Patron Is Hard Work. It had been my set text for months and had led me to think of the Romans as a bunch of Bernard Manning wannabes with an empire. At nine fifteen Toby woke up with a start and stared about suspiciously - I put down my Latin homework. Was it going to be police work or sausage?

Toby’s head stopped swinging with his nose pointed directly at Mrs Fellaman’s flat and he started to bark, the proper watchdog bark which was what got those original wolves invited to share the fire in the first place. Not a sausage then.

I left Toby in the car and slipped down the iron stairs to the basement. I stopped at the door and listened. A raised voice, definitely Mrs Fellaman’s although I couldn’t make out the words. Then a response, younger, deeper, male. Then a crash of breaking crockery.

I banged on the door and called Mrs Fellaman’s name.

“It’s the police,” I shouted. “Open up.”

It went silent inside.

“You might as well let me in, Mrs Fellaman,” I called. “I know you’ve got a ghost in there.”

Toby stopped barking. The door opened.

“What do you know about it?” asked Mrs Fellaman.

“I have reason to believe that you are consorting with a spirit in contravention of the Act against Conjuration, Witchcraft and Dealing with Evil and Wicked Spirits 1604,” I said. The Witchcraft Act had actually been superseded in 1736 but I find quoting it helps break the ice on the doorstep.

“No I ain’t,” said Mrs Fellaman. “And in any case he ain’t wicked, he’s my husband.”

I waited until she’d figured out what she’d just said.

“Bugger,” she said, and sighed. “You;d better come in.”

I followed her into a mean little corridor which opened into a mean little living room/kitchen combination. She’d done her best, but the whole terrace had been built cheaply, and the basement had been where the Victorians had stuck the kitchen, the servants and the coal bunker. Nothing could disguise the low ceiling and permanently moist walls. I doubted it got a lot of sunshine either.

“I’d offer you a cup of tea,” said Mrs Fellaman. “But I don’t think I’ve got any cups left.”

There was a scatter of broken pottery spread across the floor.

I suggested that we sit down at the kitchen table, but she insisted that she wanted to sweep up first. I sat down and let her bustle about - I wanted her relaxed and talkative. From under the sink she produced a white enamel camping mug and the kind of plastic cup that comes as the top bit of a thermos. So she made tea after all and, even better, offered me a custard cream. It’s hard for even the most hardened criminal to maintain a belligerent tone with someone who’s eating a custard cream biscuit. Although I suppose a chocolate digestive might do in a pinch.

Once she had a cup of tea in her own hand I asked whether she was sure the ghost was her husband.

“Of course I am,” she said. “I knew him as soon as he appeared.”

“And when did he appear?” I asked.

“About three months ago,” she told me vaguely, but I pinned her down to a specific date and made a note. You never know when precise information will come in handy.

“So the ghost of your husband appears,” I said. “And you decide to have an argument with him.”

“I didn’t decide,” she said. “We always used to fight, you know, some people you just row with - I suppose that him being passed on couldn’t change that.”

“Did he hit you?”

“Don’t be stupid. How could he hit me?” asked Mrs Fellaman. “He’s a ghost.”

“So how did you get the bruise then?”

“I was a clot and ran into the wall,” she said.

“How did you manage to do that?”

Mrs Fellaman looked sheepish. “I forgot he was a ghost and he made me so angry -” She made punching motions with her right hand. “I ran right through him. Hit the wall, fell over. You know how it is, you grab the nearest thing and that was the cupboard, and that fell over and the next thing I know I’ve got the Old Bill knocking on my door.”

“And what happened tonight,” I pointed at the smashed cups with my pen.

“I was throwing them at him,” said Mrs Fellaman. “Well he makes me so cross, he always did. It was his fault, he was always so stubborn.” She gave me a defiant look.

I decided to see if we could have a word with ��Mr Fellaman’.

“What was your husband’s name Mrs Fellaman?” I asked even though I already knew.

“His name was Victor,” she said. “His parents were a bit la-di-dah.”

“Can you summon him for me?”

“You’re joking,” she said. “He comes and goes when he wants - always did.”

I knew how to get a ghost’s attention, although I’d been hoping to get through the case without doing anything too overt. Still, Mrs Fellaman had been consorting with a ghost for at least three months so I doubted I could shock her any further.

I conjured a werelight and stuck it to the centre of the kitchen table.

Mrs Fellaman’s were round. “What’s that?” she asked.

“Ghost-nip,” I said. “This should bring your husband out.”

Normally when you feed a ghost they drain the magic quite gently and the werelight dims slowly, but this time the ball of light darkened to a dim crimson almost instantly. I looked around quickly and found the ghost, standing by the side wall staring at me in apparent amazement.

He was young, early twenties, wearing a rather nice suit and a slim shirt with a button down collar. In the 1950s it was called the City Gent look, and my dad probably had a suit like that - at least up until my Mum got the keys to his wardrobe. That was a Mod suit.

“He’s a bit young isn’t he?” I said.

“He looks just like he did when I met him,” she said. “There’s no reason for him to look old, is there?”

Except, generally speaking, all the ghosts I’d met looked the age they did when they died. Lesley says to always check the shoes, so I did - they were old, worn, too big for his feet and an unpleasant brown colour. No Mod would have been seen dead in those shoes.

“Hello Victor,” I said. The ghost looked at me blankly.

“Talk to him, Victor,” hissed Mrs Fellaman. “He’s a policeman.”

“What do you want?” asked the ghost. His accent was wrong too, not sixties cockney but older - I recognised it. He wasn’t what he seemed, and I didn’t want to prolong the conversation and feed him magic for much longer.

“What’s your mum’s name?” I asked.

The ghost hesitated. “What do you want to know that for?”

“No reason,” I said. The hesitation had told me all I needed to know. I shut down the werelight and the ghost suddenly went transparent.

“Martha,” said the ghost in a whisper and then he was gone.

“Bring him back,” said Mrs Fellaman.

“Was Martha the name of his mother?” I asked.

Mrs Fellaman shook her head.

“He didn’t know the answer did he?”

“Well he’s dead,” she said. “You’re bound to forget stuff once you’re dead.”

“That’s true,” I said, and it was. Most of the ghosts I’ve met always give the impression that they aren’t all there mentally. My theory is that they are echoes, near-sentient imprints in the stone and concrete around them. But that’s just a theory.

“See,” she said.

“But the thing is, Eugenia,” I said, “before I knocked on the door I requested what’s known as an ‘intelligence package’ on you, and it turns out your husband left you thirty years ago and is currently living in Prestatyn, Wales, with a woman called Blodwyn.”

“I knew that,” said Mrs Fellaman. “I’d just assumed that he’d died recently, left the Welsh bint to her own devices and come back home where he belonged.”

“I had the local police call round,” I said. “He’s alive and well.”

“Pity,” she said, and slumped in her chair.

I told her to stay put while I fetched some more equipment from my car, but she barely acknowledged me. Toby was pleased to see me and I gave him the requisite amount of encouragement for being a good boy. I grabbed the little and the big hammers from the boot and went back down to see how Mrs Fellaman was doing.

She was still slumped in her chair.

“So who was I talking to?” she asked.

“Definitely a ghost,” I said. “Just not your husband.” Victorian terraces were pretty much all built with similar design features, and if you know any architectural history at all it’s fairly easy to spot when something is missing. Like the pantry alcove that should have been to the left of the bricked-up fireplace. Very close to where the ghost had materialised - I did not think that was a coincidence.

Mrs Fellaman sighed. “He did look like my Victor.”

“I believe you,” I said. “He must have changed his appearance to suit you.”

“How would he know?”

“Good question,” I said and banged the small hammer on the wall until I got a hollow noise. I swapped for the big hammer. “I’m afraid I’m about to make a bit of a mess,” I said, and got a good two-handed grip on the long shaft.

“Wait a minute,” said Mrs Fellaman, too late.

It was an awkward swing, what with the low ceiling, but the iron head of the hammer went through on the first blow. I knocked out the loose plaster around the edges, got out my key-ring torch and had a look. As I did I got a strong flash of carbolic soap and fish guts, the smell of sweat and a blast of cold that made my fingers numb. The vestigia pretty much confirmed my suspicions and so I wasn’t nearly so surprised as I might have been when the beam of the key-ring torch fell upon the empty socket of a skull. I swept the light around and thought I could make out the rest of a skeleton collapsed at the bottom of the void.

I told Mrs Fellaman that she would need to find somewhere to stay for the next couple of days.

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“Because I’m about to tell my colleagues at the Major Investigation Team that I’ve found a body and they’re going to be round here mob handed to investigate,” I said.

“What kind of body?” asked Mrs Fellaman.

One that I suspect was walled up, judging from the shoes, in the late 19th Century. Some domestic worker whose employer got a bit heavy handed one day - one of those little Victorian stories that didn’t get talked about. I looked at Mrs Fellaman who was staring morosely around her kitchen/living room area. Or perhaps there had been somebody after the first Mr Fellaman decamped to the Welsh seaside. She obviously had a temper did our Eugenia. As I said - crime often begins at home.

Fortunately that question was not my responsibility. Nine times out of ten, once the bones were gone, so was the ghost. Although I might take Toby for walkies past the house for the next couple of weeks - just to be on the safe side. I turned on my phone and keyed up Belgravia.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider leaving him in place would you?” asked Mrs Fellaman.

“What for?”

“I rather liked the company,” she said.

THE END

#rivers of london #whispers under ground #tiny fandom #peter grant #ben aaronovitch #ROL #WUG #the domestic #Waterstones exclusive #posting in good faith because it's been 5 years and i love this one #it's my favourite so i was sad to hear other tiny fandom people hadn't read it #prince of my heart: peter grant

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