#MA beach family photographer

[queerasfact]

Queer Calendar 2023

We put together a calendar of key (mostly queer) dates at the start of the year to help us with scheduling - so I thought I’d share it around! Including pride and visibility days, some queer birthdays and anniversaries, and a few other bits and bobs. Click the links for more info - I dream one day of having a queer story for every day of the year!

This is obviously not an exhaustive list - if I’ve overlooked something important to you, feel free to add it in the reblogs!

January

3 - Bisexual American jazz-age heiress Henrietta Bingham born 1901

8 - Queer Australian bushranger Captain Moonlite born 1845; gay American art collector Ned Warren born 1860

11 - Pennsylvania celebrates Rosetta Tharpe Day in honour of bisexual musician Rosetta Tharpe

12 - Japanese lesbian author Nobuko Yoshiya born 1896

22 - Lunar New Year (Year of the Rabbit)

24 - Roman emperor Hadrian, famous for his relationship with Antinous, born 76CE; gay Prussian King Frederick the Great born 1712

27 - International Holocaust Remembrance Day

February

LGBT+ History Month (UK, Hungary)

Black History Month (USA and Canada)

1 - Feast of St Brigid, a saint especially important to Irish queer women

5 - Operation Soap, a police raid on gay bathhouses in Toronto, Canada, spurs massive protests, 1981

7 - National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day (USA)

18 - US Black lesbian writer and activist Audre Lorde born 1934

12 - National Freedom to Marry Day (USA)

19-25 - Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week

March

Women’s History Month

1 - Black Women in Jazz and the Arts Day

8 - International Women’s Day

9 - Bi British writer David Garnett born 1892

12 - Bi Polish-Russian ballet dancer Vaslav Nijinsky born 1889 or 1890

13 March-15 April - Deaf History Month

14 - American lesbian bookseller and publisher Sylvia Beach born 1887

16 - French lesbian artist Rosa Bonheur born 1822

20 - Bi US musician Rosetta Tharpe born 1915

21 - World Poetry Day

24 - The Wachowski sisters’ cyberpunk trans allegory The Matrix premiers 1999

April

Jazz Appreciation Month

Black Women’s History Month

National Poetry Month (USA)

3 - British lesbian diarist Anne Lister born 1791

8 - Trans British racing driver and fighter pilot Roberta Cowell born 1918

9 -  Bi Australia poet Lesbia Harford born 1891; Easter Sunday

10 - National Youth HIV & AIDS Awareness Day (USA)

14 - Day of Silence

15 - Queer Norwegian photographer and suffragist Marie Høeg born 1866

17 - Costa-Rican-Mexican lesbian singer Chavela Vargas born 1919

21-22 - Eid al-Fitr

25 - Gay English King Edward II born 1284

26 - Lesbian Day of Visibility; bi American blues singer Ma Rainey born 1886

29 - International Dance Day

30 - International Jazz Day

May

1 - Trans British doctor and Buddhist monk Michael Dillon born 1915

7 - International Family Equality Day

7 - Gay Russian composer Pyotr Tchaikovsky born 1840

15 - Australian drag road-trip comedy The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert premiers in 1994

 17 - IDAHOBIT (International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Intersexism and Transphobia)

18 - International Museum Day

19 - Agender Pride Day

22 - US lesbian tailor and poet Charity Bryant born 1777

22 - Harvey Milk Day marks the birth of gay US politician Harvey Milk 1930

23 - Premier of Pride, telling the story of the 1980s British activist group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners

24 - Pansexual and Panromantic Awareness and Visibility Day; Queer Chinese-Japanese spy Kawashima Yoshiko born 1907

26 - queer American astronaut Sally Ride born 1951

29 - Taiwanese lesbian writer Qiu Miaojin born 1969

June

Pride Month

Indigenous History Month (Canada)

3 - Bisexual American-French performer, activist and WWII spy Josephine Baker born 1906

5 - Queer Spanish playwright and poet Federico García Lorca born 1898; bi English economic John Maynard Keynes born 1883

8 - Mechanic and founder of Australia’s first all-female garage, Alice Anderson, born 1897

10 - Bisexual Israeli poet Yona Wallach born 1944

12 - Pulse Night of Remembrance, commemorating the 2012 shooting at the Pulse nightclub, Orlando

14 - Australian activists found the Gay and Lesbian Kingdom of the Coral Sea Islands in 2004

18 - Sally Ride becomes the first know queer woman in space

24 - The first Sydney Mardi Gras 1978

25 - The rainbow flag first flown as a queer symbol in 1978

28 - Stonewall Riots, 1969

28 June-2 July - Eid al-Adha

30 - Gay German-Israeli activist, WWII resistance member and Holocaust survivor Gad Beck born 1923

July

1 - Gay Dutch WWII resistance fighter Willem Arondeus killed - his last words were “Tell the people homosexuals are no cowards”

2-9 - NAIDOC Week (Australia) celebrating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture

6 - Bi Mexican artist Frida Kahlo born 1907

12 or 13 - Roman emperor Julius Caesar born c.100BCE

14 - International Non-Binary People’s Day

23 - Shelly Bauman, owner of Seattle gay club Shelly’s Leg, born 1947; American lesbian cetenarian Ruth Ellis born 1899; gay American professor, tattooist and sex researcher Sam Steward born 1909

25 - Italian-Australian trans man Harry Crawford born 1875

August

8 - International Cat Day

9 - Queer Finnish artist, author and creator of Moomins Tove Jansson born 1914

9 - International Day of the World's Indigenous Peoples

11 - Russian lesbian poet Sofya Parnok born 1885

12 - Queer American blues musician Gladys Bentley born 1907

13 - International Left-Handers Day

22 - Gay WWII Dutch resistance fight Willem Arondeus born 1894

24 - Trans American drag queen and activist Marsha P Johnson born 1945

26 - National Dog Day

30 - Bi British author Mary Shelley 1797

31 - Wear it Purple Day (Australia - queer youth awareness)

September

5 - Frontman of Queen Freddie Mercury born 1946

6 - Trans Scottish doctor and farmer Ewan Forbes born 1912

13 - 1990 documentary on New York’s ball culture Paris is Burning premiers

15-17 - Rosh Hashanah

16-23 - Bisexual Awareness Week

17 - Gay Prussian-American Inspector General of the US Army Baron von Steuben born 1730

23 - Celebrate Bisexuality Day

24 - Gay Australian artist William Dobell born 1889

30 - International Podcast Day

October

Black History Month (Europe)

4 - World Animal Day

5 - National Poetry Day (UK)

5 - Queer French diplomat and spy the Chevalière d’Éon born 1728

8 - International Lesbian Day

9 - Indigenous Peoples’ Day (USA)

11 - National Coming Out Day

16 - Irish writer Oscar Wilde born 1854

18 - International Pronouns Day

22-28 - Asexual Awareness Week

26 - Intersex Awareness Day

31 - American lesbian tailor Sylvia Drake born 1784

November

8 - Intersex Day of Remembrance

12 - Diwali; Queer Mexican nun Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz born c.1648

13-19 - Transgender Awareness Week

20 - Trans American writer, lawyer, activist and priest Pauli Murray born 1910; Transgender Day of Remembrance

27 - Antinous, lover of the Roman emperor Hadrian, born c.111; German lesbian drama Mädchen in Uniform premiers, 1931

29 - Queer American writer Louisa May Alcott born 1832

December

AIDS Awareness Month

1 - World AIDS Day

2 - International Day for the Abolition of Slavery

3 - International Day of Persons with Disabilities

8 - Pansexual Pride Day; queer Swedish monarch Christina of Sweden born 1626

10 - Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners host Pits and Perverts concern to raise mining for striking Welsh miners, 1984

14 - World Monkey Day

15 - Roman emperor Nero born 37CE

24 - American drag king and bouncer Stormé DeLarverie born 1920

25 - Christmas

29 - Trans American jazz musician Billy Tipton born 1914

[eandamj]

AMERICAN SAMOA - PAGO PAGO 5th April 2024

The sun was shining brightly as we arrived in American Samoa.

We docked in Pago Pago (pronounced Pahng oh Pahng oh). This was the view as we arrived:

We had arrived on the main island of American Samoa, Tutuila and we took a tour of part of the island. The tour took place in wooden island buses with bench style seats, open windows with no air conditioning and no seatbelts. This is what our bus looked like:

We were taken to places where islanders find great meaning in their lives. The first stop along the coast was the monolithic Fatu-ma-Futi or Flowerpot Rock. There are actually two!

The Flowerpot Rock - the further from the shore - rises straight out of the ocean as though it is guarding the entrance to Pago Pago bay. We continued to travel west. The scenery showed how lush and green the island is:

We stopped at a woody site which was of great historical significance to the islanders. Below is a star mound or Tia Seu Lupe. This marks the site where young men would come to hunt for pigeons competing with others. The man who could capture the most birds would then receive the chief ‘s or at least a father’s blessing to marry a young woman.

The Polynesian people of the island live in villages. It was very noticeable that there was an abundance of churches. Often as we were passing through villages, we noticed that many houses have ornate graves marked in the garden as shown here:

Apparently it is Polynesian tradition to bury family members at home. Houses and the land are passed from generation to generation. It was also very noticeable that the villages had a variety of covered pagodas.

Some of these are built by families for their private use, but we also saw many along a beach which are for public use. Apparently each tribal chief has one and each religious minister so that they are a very common sight.

We passed some fantastic scenery along the coastline:

This was near an area which people treat as a water park. Nearby to these jagged rocks were “slider rocks” which are smooth and people enjoy surfing over. Unfortunately not everyone confines themselves to the smooth rocks and it was sobering to see a beach side graveyard for those who have never been found!

We then visited the village of Leone to see an important memorial to those from that village (11) who died in a destructive tsunami in September 2009. Many others were killed in other villages too. The memorial is a sculpture of a “breadfruit” tree as this is a tree that over generations they climb to save themselves from tsunamis. It was very poignant as the memorial had all the photographs of those who died including little children. Here is the memorial:

The coastline at this point showed evidence of earthquake movement with rocks across the bay.

We then returned to Pago Pago and visited the marine conservation centre to learn of their conservation programme within the National Park of American Samoa. They are very proud of what they have achieved.

After a break for lunch we walked into the centre of Pago Pago which in many ways looked similar to the villages we had seen in the morning. It was very hot and humid and as we got back on the ship, there was torrential rain. Before we sailed away we saw several teams of men practicing rowing in the long traditional rowing boats associated with Polynesian culture.

[mikegunnill]

First World War Kent Spies.

There were so many spies before and during World War One, that they were almost, falling over each other.

The trouble with spies of course, is that they are so hard to track down and even harder to research, changing names, birth dates, and addresses.  My mission starts in Sheerness, Kent in the United Kingdom.

Under the orders of Gustav Steinhauer 1870-1930, the head of the German Admiralty Intelligence Service, many spies were in key locations and well established locally years before the outbreak of war.  Steinhauer was so proud of his achievements he wrote a book, ‘telling-all’ after the war.

Ten years later, Losel had taken over the business and was living alone at the rear of 2 High Street in Sheerness.  He was listed as a photographer and maker of frames, of German nationality and the ‘employer.’   John Hunt died in the first quarter of 1887, aged 74 still living on the Isle of Sheppey as did his wife Mary Ann Hunt, who  died December 31 st. 1891.

In 1901 his address was Beach House, Sheerness which had a huge glass conservatory, which was used as a photographic studio.  It was noted later in the magistrates court, it also provided “uninterrupted views to Sheerness dockyard, showing the arrival and departure from the area.”  Losel had first been reported to the authorities in 1904 and a year later had been detained for taking photographs on the sea-wall at Sheerness.

Karl Hentschel ran a successful family spy ring in Chatham and visited Sheerness often.  In Central Intelligence Agency files released in 2015, they gave  1884-1959 as his birth and death. 

Part of his bargaining with the British authorities forwards the end of his spy days in Kent, he provided Scotland Yard with details of his previous spy-ring.  

 Hentschel said Losel was a German agent in a statement of August 1914, and had been for some years.  He also revealed that Losel took regular trips to Germany with his photographic portfolio. 

His early photographic cards were labelled as Franz Heinrich Losel.  As war hysteria against Germany increased, the name was changed to a more anglicised, Francis Henry Losel.  This didn’t help the Sheerness locals who knew him well and didn’t speak to him, when out walking.  

On the outbreak of war, local children made their feelings known and smashed his studio conservatory with stones, and it was never used again. 

On one such occasion, he took photographs on board HMS Victoria, during March 1890.  A group photograph was taken on the forecastle deck of the ship and it proved to be, one of the last images of the crew in England before the ship sank.  

During exercises on June 22, 1893, near Tripoli, Syria now Lebanon, the ship went down within 15 minutes after a collision with HMS Camperdown and a loss of 358 crew. Photographs of the crew of HMS Victoria and many other ships visiting Sheerness may have been included in his portfolio visits to Germany.  A photograph of the crew of HMS Victoria was shown earlier, as my picture number one.  It was found, after a long search at the National Archives, Kew,  and the image has not been published before.  The connection hadn’t been made, that the crew, while in Sheerness port, had been photographed  by a German spy.

Losel spent nearly 30 years in Sheerness as a photographer and for various reasons, was well known.  Remembered by a Sheerness resident Ivy Russell in Bygone Kent volume 37, number 6 “ As a sinister, menacing figure who frightened her as a child.”  He was also recorded at the local police station as “a suspicious German photographer who spends a good deal of money, but does little or no work.”

Losel was one of 24 interned aliens moved from Brixton Prison to Reading in January 1916.  He returned to Brixton on August 6, 1917.  He hadn’t been convicted of anything and there wasn’t any evidence, he just detained as a foreign alien.  It is thought he was finally deported back to Germany in 1919.

Losel was deemed ‘small-fry’ by local spy master Hentschel. Perhaps there was a class-system for spies, as the top man Steinhauer himself had interviewed and placed Hentschel in Sheerness and given him his initial instructions to set up a language school.

[amberfaber40]

Visiting Frank Lloyd Wright's Masterpiece: Fallingwater

Visiting Frank Lloyd Wright's Masterpiece: Fallingwater

When you ask an architect about Frank Lloyd Wright, one of the first words out of their mouth will, without fail, be mention of Fallingwater

10 Beach Houses That Make Us Want to Live by the Water

A new book catalogues yet another reason to love the beach: the gorgeous waterfront homes

anagram architects completes curvilinear residential building in new delhi

anagram architects has completed 'outré house', a residential building in new delhi that employs a humble material palette and integrated greenery.

24 Photos That Prove Architecture Porn Is A Real Thing

Modern architecture that'll leave you in awe.

House in Lo Curro / Martin Schmidt Radic Arquitectos Asociados

Completed in 2009 in Santiago, Chile. Images by Martín Schmidt R. The house is Located in Lo Curro hill in the capital city of Chile, Santiago. The site, long and with gentle slope, is covered with a forest of...

Gallery of Galaxy Soho / Zaha Hadid Architects - 8

Image 8 of 19 from gallery of Galaxy Soho / Zaha Hadid Architects. Photograph by Iwan Baan

Sneak peek: 7 intriguing Atlanta moderns on upcoming MA! Architecture Tour

On display in 2019 are homes from Inman Park to the Chattahoochee River and beyond.

A9render: I will create a realistic 3d rendering architecture for $120 on fiverr.com

Norman Foster, Daniel Libeskind, and More Breathe New Life Into 10 Old Structures

Gleaming glass and shiny steel add a contemporary twist to the architecture of yore

45 Famous Buildings In The World With Unconventional Architecture

The construction of high rise buildings did not commence until the late 1800's but sustained its development well past the turn of the century with the first

Loducca Agency / Triptyque

Completed in 2006 in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Images by Leonardo Finotti . Located in the neighborhood of "Jardins" - which presently experiences radical changes - and in an avenue with busy traffic, the building faced north...

Ebisu East Gallery In Shibuya, Tokyo

The list of reasons to visit Japan is pretty much endless - the unique Japanese culture, centuries-old Japanese traditions, and arts, just to name a few. But one of the best excuses to pack your bags and jump on the next plane to Tokyo is the country's incredibly diverse and innovative array of modern architecture.

a minimalist glass cabin hovers over a cliff edge, by yakusha design

Frederik’s Church, Copenhagen

When making a trip to the design-forward Danish city, here’s what to see, from historic sites to modern masterpieces

Gallery of Shakin' Stevens Residence / Matt Gibson Architecture + Design - 5

Image 5 of 49 from gallery of Shakin' Stevens Residence / Matt Gibson Architecture + Design. Photograph by Shannon McGrath

January 1, 2023January 16, 2014 by Sally Bucey 145.1K shares Disclosure: This article may contain affiliate links. We will make a small commission from these links if you order something at no additional cost to you.When you ask an architect about Frank Lloyd Wright, one of the first words out of his or her mouth will, without fail, be mention of his masterpiece, Fallingwater.Located seventy miles southeast of Pittsburgh near Ohiopyle State Park, this iconic home is built literally on top of a waterfall and has attracted more than just engineers and architects; over 160,000 people visit the property each year.The home was once a weekend retreat for the Kaufmann family, who owned a successful chain of department stores in the area. They commissioned Wright, famous for integrating his architecture with nature, to build the home for them in 1934.Construction of Fallingwater began in April 1936 and was completed in 1939. Wright spent $155,000 to build the multi-story home (well above his initial estimate of $35,000), incorporating boulders from the mountain into the building’s foundation and steps that lead straight into the river below. Approaching Fallingwater.Driving onto the property feels isolating as the dense forest blocks out most of the light. However, as you step into the weekend home, the atmosphere immediately brightens. The living room is fully furnished and you can almost imagine a ghost of the Kaufmann family coming in from around the corner to relax in front of the sizable fireplace.Low ceilings make the home seem more cozy than cramped, and the incorporation of wood brings the natural world inside. In fact, that was Wright’s intention; with the use of open space and large windows, my eyes were constantly drawn to the outdoors and the natural beauty surrounding the home. To completely isolate myself from the outside world would be impossible. The interior of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater.The Kaufmann family each had their own room, in addition to the kitchen, servant’s quarters, guest room, main living room, and the later addition of a guesthouse behind the main home. The rooms were compact and stacked on top of each other; the main house is three stories tall and the third floor holds only one room, belonging to the Kaufmann’s only son.The interior of the home is nearly as fascinating as the architecture. Mrs. Kaufmann collected countless statues, rugs, paintings and original artwork from all over the world. I spent just as much time snapping pictures of tiny details as hanging my jaw at the views outside. Her taste in decorations was exquisite. Overlooking Fallingwater from the paths around the home.To go on a tour of the house, you’ll need to reserve tickets ahead of time. I recommend the in-depth tour as you’re able to learn much more about the construction of the home and the inside story of even small details, as well as visit every room in the house. The two hours were gone in a flash.It should also be noted that interior shots of the home are only allowed on the in-depth tour. Visitors on regular tours can’t take photos during the tour.Visiting Fallingwater Fallingwater is beautiful in every season.Fallingwater is located south of Pittsburgh, within the Bear Run Nature Reserve, just off of State Route 381 in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania.Tickets are $35 per person for the standard tour or $87 per person for the in-depth tour. Bear in mind that children under 6 are not allowed on any tours of Fallingwater. Reservations are highly recommended and can be made on their website or by calling 724-329-8501. If you just want to see the outside of the home, grounds passes are available for $10 each.Opening dates and times vary, though the house is closed in January and February. For more information about the property’s history and tour schedule, visit Fallingwater’s website.Interested in exploring more unique sites in the outskirts of Pittsburgh? Check out other nearby sites including Kentuck Knob (another Wright home), Ohiopyle Falls, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Polymath Park, Nemacolin Woodlands Resort, and Stewarton Falls.This is a guest post by writer Sally Bucey. 145.1K shares Great places to stay in Fayette County Nemacolin Woodlands Resort - One of the top hotels in Pennsylvania. Connellsville Bed and Breakfast - Rated the best Bed and Breakfast in Connellsville on Trip Advisor. Histoic Summit Inn - A historic hotel with modern ammenities. Hampton Inn - Rated the best value hotels in the county on Trip Advisor. Find more great places to stay on Airbnb! Click the map to see more nearby things to do " More nearby places worth exploring Exploring Incredible Artistry at the Westmoreland Museum of American Art 15 of the Most Beautiful Spots to See Fall Foliage in the Laurel Highlands Visiting the Last Remaining Covered Bridge in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania Visiting Fort Ligonier to Learn About the French and Indian War Sally BuceySally Bucey blogs about travel and expat life at A Breath of Foreign Air. She’s interested in photography, foreign languages and befriending strangers all over the world when she’s not buried in a book and a cup of coffee.abreathofforeignair.com

[helenagoessensphotography]

Rexhame Beach Family Photos for Family of Four | Marshfield MA Family Photographer

Rexhame Beach Family Photos for Family of Four | Marshfield MA Family Photographer

Capturing family portraits on the beach is one of my favorite things to do each summer. And when the family that I’m working with is a returning client, it makes our session even more special! When I met up with these four for their Rexhame Beach family photos, I was so excited to see them all again. We had to make our time together really count since we were racing against the rain, but it was…

[counterintuitivecomics]

I’ve been doing some quick felt-brush pen drawings at the beach recently. We’re in MA to help my partner’s family out with medical troubles, which has been a lot...it’s nice to have the opportunity to spend time with them and with the ocean though.

[ID: 1) Photograph of a pale hand holding up an sketchbook filled with fast scribbly drawings of waves, at a rocky beach in Hull, MA. 2) Photograph of a pale hand holding up an open sketchbook with a pen drawing of a rocky beach and seawall, in front of the beach itself.]

[pers-books]

Nicola Walker, star of Unforgotten and The Split, returns to the theatre

The actor only really hit her stride at 40, but has always kept her feet firmly on the ground

Miranda Bryant Sun 17 Apr 2022 10.14 BST

‘Like working with a virtuoso’: Walker in the BBC One drama The Split. Photograph: Tereza Cervenova/BBC/Sister

A lot of actors would “go into a tailspin” if they lost their director for two weeks during rehearsals for a big stage role, said director Dominic Cooke. But not Nicola Walker. When he returned to the National Theatre for rehearsals of The Corn is Green after a fortnight out with Covid, exclaiming how terrible it was that they had lost so much time, his lead actor put him straight. “She said, ‘Well, I’m not in Ukraine’. And I thought, ‘Yeah that’s you. You’ve got a sense of perspective about it.’”

In showbusiness, where being grounded is not a common trait, Walker’s level-headedness makes her stand out. “It’s very straightforward for her. She sees where she is in the bigger picture,” said Cooke. “And that’s an admirable quality in anyone but especially in the crazy world of entertainment.”

After decades of gaining growing recognition, this promises to be a big week for the 51-year-old, best known for her roles in BBC dramas Spooks and Last Tango in Halifax, as an MI5 analyst and a farmer respectively, and as a detective chief inspector in ITV’s Unforgotten. She’s playing divorce lawyer Hannah, whose marriage (to Nathan, played by Stephen Mangan) continues to unravel in the final season of The Split on BBC One.

Meanwhile, off screen, she is in the process of making a long-awaited return to the stage as a visionary teacher in The Corn is Green, the semi-autobiographical 1938 play by Emlyn Williams, which is at the National until 11 June after a two-year delay caused by the pandemic.

And later this year, she’s starring in another relationship-centred BBC drama, Marriage, with Sean Bean.

As Gillian in Sally Wainwright’s family drama Last Tango in Halifax. Photograph: Matt Squire/BBC/Lookout Point

Cooke, who described working with Walker on the play as “a revelation”, said he had never seen her do anything like it. “It’s a different kind of role for her. But she is, I think, made for it,” he said, adding that she seemed “incredibly comfortable” in the starry role, which has been played on screen by Bette Davis and Katharine Hepburn.

“The thing is, she’s done so much,” said Cooke, who directed Olivier award-winning productions Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom and Follies and the film adaptation of the Ian McEwan novella On Chesil Beach. “Before she did television, she just did years and years of theatre. And when you get that level of experience in an actor, it’s like working with a virtuoso, they have a lot of strings to their bows. They have a lot of resources, and she’s got that.”

Her stage credits include an OIivier award-winning turn in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, winning best supporting actress in 2013, and Beatrice in Ivo van Hove’s acclaimed 2014 Young Vic production of A View from the Bridge, which transferred to the West End and Broadway.

Cooke sees her having the kind of trajectory as Judi Dench, who at 87 is still going strong. “The sky’s the limit for her [Walker] and there are going to be amazing opportunities for her in the coming years. She’s definitely got that sort of Judi Dench national treasure potential.”

Yet it took a long time for Walker to reach household-name status. Like Oscar-winner and fellow Cambridge graduate Olivia Colman, she had turned 40 before her career started to fly.

In her 20s, Walker was warned by older female actors that getting work would be tough once she turned 40. But now she is busier than ever. “The past 10 years have been the best of my career,” she said recently. “I didn’t see it coming.” The year 2020 was her quietest since giving birth to her son, Harry (who she named after Spooks character Harry Pearce) in 2006.

With Sanjeev Bhaskar in ITV’s hit detective series Unforgotten. Photograph: ITV

Her home life, with her husband Barnaby Kay, also an actor, and son in north London, is said to be “grounded, regular and sane”, and an important part of who she is. Harry, she recently claimed, had not watched any of her work in full because he found it strange seeing his mother on TV. Fortunately, her husband, who she said was “very supportive”, watches everything.

The most commonly used adjectives adopted by those who have worked with her seem to be fun, brilliant, intelligent, extraordinary and kind.

Dee Koppang O’Leary, who directed her in The Split, said her performances were so layered and nuanced that she didn’t want scenes to end. “She has the most emotional and emotive face I have ever seen – and when the camera is on her, you don’t ever want to call cut.”

Chris Lang, the writer of Unforgotten, first met Walker in 2007 when she featured in his show Torn. He knew her from Spooks, but he wasn’t prepared for how good she would be. “She had just had her son, and it was almost her first job back from maternity leave. I remember auditioning her and just thinking she was extraordinary, an amazing actress,” he said.

They went on to work together on A Mother’s Son in 2012 and later on Unforgotten, first shown in 2015. Although he wrote the role for her, she was then still not considered a leading actress, he said. “She was just on the verge of making that leap. But I knew from the first time I worked with her that she could carry a show completely.”

With Phoebe Fox and Mark Strong in Ivo Van Hove’s acclaimed production of Arthur Miller’s A View from the Bridge. Photograph: Tristram Kenton/The Guardian

Part of her appeal, he said, was that she was an empath – both on and off screen. “You identify with her and you see yourself in her. I think that’s quite a rare gift and not many actors have it, but she has it in spades.”

Such is her ability to make others believe in her characters that Unforgotten director Andy Wilson, said when her character, DCI Cassie Stuart, died, he had to watch the scene 100 times during editing, and cried every single time. “That’s a tribute to her. Because the person she created in Cassie was so real to me,” he said from set while filming the new series.

Wilson said that Walker had changed perceptions of women on TV through the role. “She’s a female lead who’s willing to show you her character’s vulnerability and weakness. She’s willing to be vulnerable and she’s also willing to be the leader,” he said. “It’s a rounded character in a way that I don’t think we’ve really seen before.”

He said Walker made him laugh when the bodies arrived on set, when she would always be “vaguely disgusted”. But, he said, the most memorable thing about her on set was “her explosive laughter”.

Walker, who was born in Stepney, London, to a father who was a scrap metal dealer and a mother who was an interior designer, started acting when she was 12 at youth theatre but didn’t imagine doing it as a career. As a child she loved black-and-white musicals with stars such as Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers and Gene Kelly. After attending a private school in north-east London, she became the first in her family to go to university. At Cambridge she was taken by her friend Sue Perkins to the university’s Footlights drama club.

She has always been true to herself, said friend and creator of Spooks, David Wolstencroft, who remembered first meeting her at a Footlights comedy event. “The overwhelming impression I had of Nicola was that, in stark contrast to a lot of us at that time, she didn’t appear to be trying to be anybody but herself – which, given her talent and career path, sounds paradoxical. But she simply was who she is.”

He first saw her on stage in 1990 at a Footlights revue and noted that her “heart and precision was already there”.

Wolstencroft said he remembered “the sound of her and Sue Perkins laughing constantly”. After university, Walker got a place at Rada but decided not to go because of the cost and because she was, she has said, “in a rush to get going”.

With Steve Pemberton in the comedy anthology series Inside No 9. Photograph: Sophie Mutevelian/BBC

Despite this, many of her colleagues praise her technique. Last Tango in Halifax writer Sally Wainwright said: “There’s something about the detail that she puts into every beat, into every moment, and then makes it look effortless. There’s always a sort of gravitas to any scene that she inhabits.”

After university, Walker carried on acting in friends’ plays above pubs. And it was in a play at a pub, alongside Rachel Weisz, that she got the attention of an agent.

She struggled to get TV parts in those early days but did appear as one half of the “frightful folk duo” in Four Weddings and a Funeral. Wolstencroft remembers seeing it and thinking “Well, that makes total sense … Off she goes!” He later went on to work with Walker on Spooks, in which he described her as “a centre of gravity for the show”, and in Shooting Dogs, a film about the Rwandan genocide that he wrote.

What next for Walker? Does the US beckon? “She’s a rising tide that lifts all boats. I’d love to see her in a big US show. If I’m ever lucky enough to find myself behind the wheel of one of those, I’d beg her to come and play,” said Wolstencroft.

But the actor’s approach to this is, characteristically, far more down to earth. When asked recently whether she was tempted by Hollywood, she claimed she mainly associated it with watching Marvel films with her son. She has also said she would like to work with Perkins again. She recently said that she was “practical about acting”, adding: “My dream role is always the job you get next.”

Producer Jane Featherstone, who has worked with Walker on Spooks, River and The Split, said her biggest motivation was great writing and colleagues. They first met on ITV drama Touching Evil in 1995 when she was fresh from university. “She was just amazing in the audition, and ITV took the punt on her and we got very lucky” she said.

Walker’s ability to be simultaneously ordinary and exceptional made her stand out, she said. “She’s quite unusual, she’s quite special but also extremely relatable, and that’s a rare thing. We’re lucky when we get ones like her, honestly.”

(Source)

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Back to the Beginning

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Fluff!

Word Count: 2,584

A/N: This is one of two one shots I promised for this series. This also is part of @allaboutthebooz 1,000 followers challenge. Congrats my beautiful friend! The song I chose for the challenge is How Long Will I Love You by Ellie Goulding. Song lyrics are in italics.

Conversations Series

**

“My feet hurt,” you whined.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Jana asked.

Brooks hooked his arm in yours, Jana grabbing your other. “Keep up, Buttercup,” he said.

As much as they teased you, they were your best friends and you missed them terribly. Thank goodness Disney always had something major in the works. You were able to fly out to Orlando, a few times a year, often staying with Jana and Brooks. They had a little one, Peter, who loved his Aunty and didn’t mind sharing his parents with. Peter was staying with Brooks’ brother for a few days so that his parents could have “an adult trip”.

The three of you were trying to keep stride with the rather large group you were touring Disney’s Animal Kingdom with. It wasn’t just the three of you like it always used to be. It was the whole Evans clan, well, Chris’ immediate family including the kids. That part wasn’t new to you, but Chris had invited your mother and your brother Heath as well as Jana and Brooks too.

It was odd having your family there. It was all new to your mom as she had never gone. Heath had gone to the parks with you and your dad when you both were kids. But for all the years you lived in Orlando, they never wanted to go on the rare times they visited you.

Chris had booked several rooms on the same floor at the Beach Club Resort. Carly and here family were in the room next to yours that had an adjoining door. This was at the insistence of Stella who had taken a liking to you over the last couple of years. Chris kept it locked after the two of you had gone to bed each night. The first night, he made the mistake of not locking it, only to be woken up at six in the morning by a little girl with wild hair. Neither of you were dressed. Thankfully the blankets on the bed were pulled up to your neck because you kept the thermostat very low.

For some unholy reason, Chris had insisted on vacationing in July rather than October. With Carly’s kids in school, it was harder to pull them out for vacation. At least that’s what he said. When you mentioned it to Carly, she shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. So, here you were, with sweaty feet that hurt, and really, sweaty everything.

Taylor, your Disney cast member that was in charge of handling your large group was currently weaving you through the exit of Kali River Rapids at your insistent request. Not everyone liked water rides, but you had no complaints today.

Chris grabbed your hand and helped you onto the raft, taking the seat next to you. You had been photographed with Chris enough over the last three years that the two of you just didn’t care anymore. Your name was out there. You had been written about. But in the end, it didn’t really bother you.

How long will I love you As long as stars are above you And longer if I can

The first drop came and went, with only a light splash misting you. No matter how much you begged to whatever God that was listening in your head, the darn raft would always manage to turn and soak another member of your party as the ride began.

The rapids started to pick up, leading you to flow under a bridge that water dripped down from like rain. It felt like sweet relief as the cool water rand down your head to your back and chest. A smile instantly appeared on your face. Chris lifted your linked hand to his lips, kissing it and lowering it down. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder for just a moment as your raft started to spin causing a giggle to erupt from your lips.

How long will I be with you As long as the sea is bound to Wash up on the sand

The big drop was in sight. The raft slowly spun causing you all to fill with nervous laughter.

“No. No. No!” Chris chanted as your side of the raft had turned so that two of you were facing completely backward from the drop. And just like it was meant to be, a large wave of water hit your back first, then ultimately ran down the front of you soaking everything, including your shoes.

Oh well.

“Feeling better?” Chris asked, soaking wet arm slung over your soaking wet shoulders.

“Much,” you smiled, grabbing a large portion of your t-shirt and wringing the water out.

“Good! Because we’re going on Everest next.”

You were tongue tied. Void of words. Out of your mind. Whatever you wanted to call it; you couldn’t speak. On the last two trips with Chris you had avoided riding the demon coaster. He didn’t even bring it up on those previous trips, now he was leading you there as if it were second nature.

Like the five-year-old you were sometimes, you stopped walking, causing Chris to also stop since his fingers were linked with yours.

“Sassy…”

“Christopher…” you mimicked in the same tone.

“We’re all going on together. Even your Ma is goin’ on.”

“But I don’t want to,” you pouted. “Scott!” you yelled. He was about twenty feet in front of you, hand in hand with Zach.

You pulled Chris along, to catch up with Scott.

“What can I do for you my lady?” he asked, releasing Zach’s hand and giving you a bow.

You ignored his antics. “Your brother is making me go on Everest. He’s not even feeding me tequila like you did. Shouldn’t we be hitting up Nomad Lounge? Tell him,” you insisted.

Zach chuckled, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

“Come on, Sassy. It’s been a long time since you’ve ridden it. There’s enough of us here, we’re going to pretty much take up the whole coaster. How cool is that going to be?” Scott asked.

“And you rode without us!” Jana piped in.

Where did she even come from?

“Fine. But you owe me drinks after. And this is the last time.” You turned to face Chris. “The last time I ride this death trap.”

Chris pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your middle. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. He kissed your cheek, then your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

How long will I want you As long as you want me to And longer by far

“Back row baby!” Chris said, pulling you into the last corral.

Looking around, it was odd. It was only your large group waiting to ride. The park wasn’t shut down as it was only mid-afternoon. The only other people waiting for the next train were Taylor and two other cast members working the attraction.

“No, babe. I want to ride with Scott. He was supposed to ride with me the first time, but bailed last second.”

Scott scoffed in the corral in front of you. “I did not bail on you. I just can’t do back row. Besides, I could tell you were the type to squeeze the life out of my hand and my brother is better at that sort of thing. All muscle. No brain.”

It was Chris’ turn to scoff as he pushed Scott in the chest in retaliation.

“Children…” you threatened. “Let’s switch Zach. You back here with Chris and I’m in front of you with Scott.”

Zach looked to Scott and Scott turned to look at Chris.

“No, baby,” Chris said softly. “Ride with me. It’ll be romantic.” He wrapped his arms around you, caging in your arms at your sides. “Like the first time we rode together. Except this time, we know each other and you aren’t just some random girl my brother stuck me with.”

You dropped your head against his chest. “Mean,” you mumbled.

“Please ride with me. Who better to keep you safe?” he asked sweetly, rocking the two of you back and forth.

You nodded your head against his shoulder.

How long will I give to you As long as I live through you However long you say

The train pulled up and everyone started to board. You got in first with Chris sitting next to you. You pulled the lap bar to you, checking several times that it was in place while Chris fiddled with his pockets. He sometimes liked to pull out his phone and snap selfies while he rode. No doubt he was probably hoping to get some embarrassing shots of you.

The coaster started to move, winding down the grassy path helping to aid in drying your wet hair. This was the part that you were able to keep your eyes open for. Even as the train started its ascent, your eyes remained open. Chris gabbed on to your hand that was closest to him while your other had already cemented itself to the lap bar. He brought your linked hands to his lips kissing it three times.

“I got you,” he said.

“I know. Eyes are closing now. Okay?” you replied.

Chris chuckled. “God, I love you.”

“Lo-love. You. Too. Can’t. Speak. Now.”

Chris chuckled again. But you couldn’t comment on his laughter because you were in freak out mode once again. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t speak. You just needed to hold as tight as you could. Some how Chris’ hand released yours and you quickly grabbed on to the lap bar with that hand as the coaster started to go backwards.

So much for having me. He was going to hear about that.

You felt the drops from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You were too old for this shit and you were putting your foot down, once it was back on ground. No more Everest for you. Ever.

“Babe. Baby. Open your eyes. It’s over with. We’re pulling back into the loading zone.”

You nodded your head and opened your eyes to see that you had just pulled back into the loading zone and surprisingly it was empty as well.

Getting out of the train car on wobbly legs, you followed slowly behind your group. “Did they close this down for us?” you asked.

“Must have,” he answered simply.

Chris grabbed your hand once again and lead you to the where the ride photos displayed on screens. Your group waited patiently for the photos appear while you pulled your phone out of your back pocket.

“You guys do know that they’ll show up automatically on the app, right? We don’t need to wait here. Besides, Scott owes me a drink.”

“Will you just go with the flow for once?” Scott asked. “Some people want to see their pics now rather than waiting for an hour for it to load on the app.” He said pinching your side.

“Ow!” you yelled. “Brat!”

The photos appeared on the screens in front of you capturing everyone’s attention. Looking through each one, you caught the happy and scared expressions on everyone’s face. Your mother, like you, had her eyes closed while your brother’s hands were thrown in the air, blocking the view of Shanna that was behind him.

You found your photo and immediately see that your eyes were shut and you had a tight closed smile on your face. That wasn’t anything new. While Chris would normally have a big grin for the camera with his arms in the air, he was instead looking at you. You walked closer to the screens while others seemed to part giving you a clear path. He had something in his hand. The same hand that was holding yours, but let go during the ride. It was a small black box.

That’s odd.

“Babe?” you called out, still looking at the picture. “What’s in your hand?”

When he didn’t answer, you turned around to look for him, but you didn’t have to look far. Chris stood behind you, one knee on the ground with that same black box in his hand. Your eyes went wide. Your families and friends circled around the two of you with soft smiles on their faces.

“Baby,” Chris said softly. “Baby, please look at me.”

You shook your head out of your thoughts and let your eyes focus on Chris in front of you.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly, causing a few giggles from your group.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Chris replied, licking his lips. “You’ve been a big part of my life since the day you called me babe. I guess I have to thank Scott for that.”

“You owe me!” Scott shouted.

“Anyway,” Chris said, slightly rolling his eyes and giving you a big toothy grin. “I love you sweetheart. I love your independence. I love your heart. I love all the sacrifices you have made to make our life better.”

“You’ve made sacrifices for us too,” you interrupted.

And he had. Over the last year, Chris had cut back on the number of projects he was taking on. He spent a lot more time at home with you and Dodger. He made several trips with you to Minnesota to see your family. The two of you had taken several vacations together. And he didn’t hassle you when you ultimately wrote a story or two while you lounged by the ocean or sat by a roaring fire.

“Sorry,” you smiled. “Please continue.”

“I love that you apologize when you interrupt me,” he joked. You shook your head and stuck your tongue out at him. “You keep me on my toes. You keep me honest. I honest to God wouldn’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life.”

Chris opened the box revealing a diamond ring in your favorite cut. You often wore a ring that once belonged to your grandmother. You had told him it was your favorite cut and apparently, he had remembered.

You heard a couple of oohs from your group. Chris looked up and gave them a cocky grin. “Do you mind? I’m kind of in the middle of somethin’ here.”

Leave it to Chris to plan an engagement in front of a crowd and keep it light.

He turned back to you and reached for you to come closer, which you did.

“Sweetheart, what I’m trying to say is you’re my other half. Will you make me even happier than I could ever ask for by being my wife?”

You gave him your hand and nodded your head yes. The words weren’t coming out, but apparently that didn’t stop the tears that started to slip down your cheeks.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

You dropped to both of your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck because he was just too far away from you. “Yes,” you whispered into his ear. “Yes, baby. I want you to be my husband.”

“She said yes!” he yelled causing you to laugh and cry even harder into his neck. One of his hands rubbed your back. “So, what do you say Sassy? Are you going to let me put this ring on where it belongs?”

You laughed again and pulled back, whipping the tears from your face. Chris took the ring out of the box and slide it onto your left ring finger.

“I love you,” you mouthed over the chorus of cheers and clapping.

“I love you too, baby.”

How long will I love you As long as stars are above you

**

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[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Boxing

The beautiful, talented, amazing and wonderful @artsymeeshee​ has been going through a lot lately and I’ve been wanting to do something for her, so (since I can’t draw chibi Stans or think of a good fic that follows that theme XD ) I thought I would write this for her! Seriously, guys, she’s incredible in every way and deserves all the love in the world, so go give it to her!

I hope you like this fic, girl, and that you’re doing okay. - N.S.

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started back when the Pines family first arrived back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was up in the storage room (It was much fuller than wise, but the attic was used as a bedroom at the moment.) and had dragged Dipper along with her to help find some old photographs. With only two weeks to work on her special birthday present for her grunkles, she needed all the help she could get in making them the perfect gift: a new scrapbook full of old photos of Glass Shard Beach and pictures Mabel had saved on her phone and was going to print of the old sailors out at sea.

Mabel had her hands on a box full of baby photos that she was totally going to use as blackmail. She squealed and then covered her mouth quickly so they wouldn’t get caught when she found a photo of two twin boys sitting in little sailor-suits on their parents’ bed. The one with six-fingers on his tiny fists didn’t look happy, but his brother was laughing and was proud of his new suit. Mabel tucked it into her folder to use for the scrapbook and checked another box. She opened it and was surprised to find news articles for boxing events and pictures of her uncles training. “Wow, Dipper, look.” Mabel said quietly and Dipper sat with her by the box. “Whoa, Stan was really good.” The boy commented as he picked up photographs of a bruised-looking, war-beaten, teenage-version of Stan had a fist up in the air in victory and a trophy in his grasp. Ford was by his side, enjoying stealing Stan’s gimmick of wrapping an arm around his neck and pointing at him as he beamed with pride. “Check out all these first places.” “Wonder where all his trophies…” But then Mabel stopped. There were boxes in this room labeled “trophies”, but all of those were Ford’s from science fairs and spelling bees, because this had originally been his house. Since Stan was kicked out and didn’t exactly have time or space for memorabilia, the trophies were long-gone, probably tossed out by Dipper and Mabel’s great-grandfather. Mabel’s blood boiled and her teeth clenched in a very un-Mabel way. “If I ever see Blendin again, I’m using his time-machine to go back in time and punch that jerk in the face.” She growled. “Yeah,” Dipper sighed and held out some good pictures of when both of the twins were boxing in elementary school. “But hey, these will look great in the new scrapbook.” He pointed out, trying to make his sister forget Filbrick. It worked; Mabel smiled and took some of the pictures. “These are great, thanks!” And she added them to the folder. “They look so cute! And they look like they might be having fun.” Dipper shrugged; to this day Stan still enjoys watching a match and he still gave awesome left and right-hooks. “So, do you need more pictures, or…?” “I think… I dunno, I was hoping to find one of them with Grandpa or Ma Pines. Do you think they’d want that?” Even after the scrapbook had been made and delivered, Mabel still thought back to Stan and Ford’s old boxing days. It was interesting and cool to her, so one afternoon she asked Stan to teach her some moves. She had never seen that old man look so happy. (Except when he announced that he was going to be sailing around the world with Ford.) He took her out to the backyard and taught her how to take a proper stance and how to give good hooks and how to dodge properly. Mabel found she liked the feeling of the gloves and the poses and moves came relatively quickly to her. By the time the sun was setting Stan was laughing and calling her a natural. About a week or so later, Stan left his newspaper on the table to help put out a small fire Ford had started due to an experiment gone bad, and Mabel saw an ad for boxing tryouts. There was a team right outside of Gravity Falls and the whole thing was over by the end of the summer, so Mabel could join if she wanted. When Stan came back and finished his newspaper, he put it in the newspaper bin (used to start campfires or for arts-n’-crafts) and Mabel swiped the article for the date, time, and location. Dipper woke up the next morning and found Mabel’s bed, as usual, empty. But then as Dipper was scrubbing his eyes he heard something weird outside. He looked out the window and stared to find Mabel in pink work-out shorts, a white t-shirt, and her hair up with a scrunchie as she punched a tree with boxing gloves. Dipper slipped on some shoes and his hat and vest and hurried outside. “Mabel, what are you doing?” He asked when he got behind her out in the crisp morning air. “Training for the boxing tryouts.” Mabel said as she worked, punching a tree so hard a branch fell off. Dipper smiled proudly and said, “I wanna help.” And so history repeated itself as Dipper hurried to the library after breakfast and found books on proper diet techniques and he looked up video-tutorials on great workout routines. He rode his bike besides Mabel and used her megaphone to cheer her on as she jogged down the dirt road. He wore a full on pillow-bodysuit so Mabel could punch something that moves and tries to punch back. Dipper even made her protein shakes with raw eggs and other stuff to help her keep her energy and he poured her Mabel Juice down the drain, earning him a raspberry courtesy of his twin. The kids were careful to keep it a secret, Mabel insisting she wanted to surprise Stan and Ford by coming back with a real boxing uniform and a declaration that she made the team. Dipper supported her one million percent and on the day of the tryouts, they hopped on a bus for the gym. Dipper walked with Mabel in her workout-gear, hands in his vest and a proud smile on his face. They walked into the correct room, the one with a big ring and some bleachers, and found Mr. Poolcheck’s cousin, Mr. Boxcoach. The cousins had the same tight-face, sharp jawline, and popping vein, and they were both equally scary, but Mr. Boxcoach’s legs weren’t skinny and perfect for swimming, rather bulky and perfect for boxing, and he had oily brown hair. He wore a blue-jacket over a white t-shirt and he had a whistle around his neck and a clipboard in hand. Boys from neighboring towns were there to try out, too, and more were approaching. Mabel and Dipper walked up to Mr. Boxcoach to properly introduce themselves and before any of them said a word, the scary man asked with his eyes down at his clipboard, “What’s your name, son?” “Oh, no,” Dipper shook his head and patted Mabel’s shoulder. “I’m not here to try out, but my sister is.” “Hi! I’m Mabel.” She said cheerfully, almost bouncing where she stood with excitement. Mr. Boxcoach finally looked at them and snorted. “Yeah, no. I’m not putting a girl on my team.” Mabel’s smile dropped. Dipper saw the devastated look on her face and he had to try extremely hard not to lose his temper. “Why not?” He asked. “Whaddya mean, why not, she’s a girl.” Mr. Boxcoach said like it was obvious and he tucked his clipboard under his arm. “I mean look at her, a butterfly clip in her hair and a bright-pink scrunchie. They’d eat her alive out there.” “So what if she takes good care of her hair and likes pink?” Dipper snapped. “Last I checked, that has nothing to do with how good she is. She’s really tough, just let her try, she’s got a great left-hook!” “Listen, kids, it’s anarchy out there…” “She can handle it!” “... there is no way I’m letting a girl on my team.” Mr. Boxcoach said firmly. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in my boxing ring.” Dipper narrowed his eyes, seeing red, his whole body shaking with rage. “You won’t even let her try out?” “Nope.” Dipper was ready to yell and make Mr. Boxcoach rue the day he underestimated Mabel Pines, but one glance at her told Dipper that she looked ready to go home, so he put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out the door. “Forget that jerk. Wanna stop by that new candy store in town? I think they have a new safer Smile-Dip.” He offered softly. Mabel shook her head and pulled her hair down, her scrunchie on her wrist. “I’d rather just go home.” “Okay, sure.” Dipper tried to smile comfortingly at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes and Dipper could tell that she didn’t need smiles right now. ~~~~~~~~~~ Waddles was asleep under the card table while Ford and Stan played poker on the table. Ford slammed his cards down as his brother laughed maliciously and scooted the loot to his side of the table. “You cheated!” “Probably, wanna try to prove it, Wise Guy?” Stan dared. “Oh, you little…” The door opened and closed and the old men smiled to see the kids return, but they were unhinged to find Mabel in unusual attire and hurrying up the stairs with tears in her eyes. The bedroom door slammed shut and Waddles woke up and trotted up the stairs. “What’s wrong with Mabel?” Stan asked. Dipper sighed and collapsed in the armchair. “Mabel wants to be on the boxing team.” Ford and Stan exchanged proud and surprised looks, but they also remembered that their little girl was upset right now. “Did she not make the team?” Ford guessed sympathetically. “She didn’t even get to try out.” “Why not?” Stan pressed on when Dipper fell silent and didn’t look in a hurry to tell more of the story. He gave them both a careful look, like he was debating if it was worth telling them, but he eventually said, “Coach says he wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in his ring.” “WHAT?!” Stan stood up quickly and looked just as mad as he did back when he discovered that Mable and Gideon were dating last summer. “And you were okay with that?!” “Stanley,” Ford scolded lightly, not enjoying the fact that he was assuming Dipper didn’t do anything about it. “No! I tried, but there was no changing his mind.” Dipper defended and crossed his arms over his chest. Stan marched across the room. Ford stood up and asked, “Where are you going?” “To be mad at somebody new!” “Uh, oh.” Dipper said as Stan angry beyond reason. When Mabel heard Waddles scratching at the door, she forced herself out of bed to let him in. He hopped up on the foot of the bed and let Mabel lie her head on him and cry on his soft pink body. She hugged him and cried her heart out, disappointed and feeling stupid for thinking she even had a shot at boxing like her hero. A soft knock came at the door and Mabel looked up to find Stan at the door. She quickly wiped her tears away and her face dry; she didn’t want him to see her cry and think she wasn’t tough anymore. “Hey, everything okay, pumpkin?” Mabel smiled weakly and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay…” “C’mon, Mabel, you can’t lie to an old conman.” Stan said and sat by the head of her bed. “Plus Dipper told me what happened.” He added, unable to take all the credit on him just being that awesome and smart. Mabel’s eyes filled with tears and she shut her eyes to try to hide it. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed. “Snitch.” Mabel mumbled, making Stan snort. “I wanted to surprise you, make you proud.” “Whoa, hey,” Stan halted. “First off, I’ll always be proud of you. Always. You’re my little fight, whether you’re on some stupid team or not. That’s sweet that you wanted to surprise me and rub it in my face that you’re way better at boxing than me, but you don’t have to hide anything from me.” Mabel hiccuped a laugh over his little joke and she wiped her tears on her arm, feeling much better. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.” “No problem, sweetie.” He looked her dead in the eye and asked, “Do you really wanna box?” Mabel wasn’t sure if he was asking because he wanted to make sure she didn’t want to box only to make him proud, or he was about to do something stupid. Either way, she wanted to be honest. She nodded and gave that Pines-gleam in her eye, the one that promised trouble and was fed off of determination, pride, and hard-work. “Yeah, I do. But the coach…” “I don’t care, get your gloves and let’s go.” Stan motioned a hand for her to follow and she did as she was told, following her great-uncle out of the room and eventually out of the house. ~~~~~~~~~~ Luckily the tryouts were only half done when Stan had Mabel’s hand and was walking her back inside the room. Her soft brown eyes found the scary Mr. Boxcoach and her hand tightened around Stan’s. “That’s him.” “I got this.” Stan muttered back. “OY! Veins! You and I need to talk!” Mr. Boxcoach had to whistle a match to stop and he turned to the new arrivals that stood outside his ring. Stan climbed up swiftly and had his hands on his hips, a suave, strong man in a suit looking deadly with cold brown eyes and tight fists just right for throwing a good punch. The atmosphere got ten degrees colder as Mr. Boxcoach realized he had talked badly about Stanley Pines’s girl. “Yes, sir?” He asked casually. “You tell my grandniece she can’t box?!” “Oh, well I was only looking after her…” “Well she doesn’t need you to look after her! She can look after herself and do a better job at it than most grown-ups!” Mabel, meanwhile, was turning pink with pride. “And you’re gonna give her the same chance you would give any other boy!” “Or what?” Mr. Boxcoach snarled. “Or we’re gonna have problems.” Stan growled and even Mabel felt a shiver go down her spine. Despite being the same size, Mr. Boxcoach looked significantly smaller than Stan. Mr. Boxcoach swallowed and then huffed, “Fine. Kid, you’re next. You’ll go against Drake.” “What?!” The pale sandy-haired kid with freckles yelled. He was one of the two already in the ring. “I’m not boxing with a girl!” “Why not, your friend is.” Mabel snapped. Stan swelled with pride and the other boy, a dark-skinned boy with brown curls, “oh”ed with a smile and said he’d fight her. Stan patted her back and said, “I’ll be in the bleachers. Kick their butts.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Ford and Dipper were watching the Used To Be About History Channel when Stan and Mabel came back home with huge smiles on their faces. “Guess who’ll be in boxing matches this summer?” “Mabel, that’s wonderful!” Ford cheered and gave her a hug when she hopped up on his lap in the armchair. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” “Me, too.” And Dipper ruffled her hair from the dino-skull end table. “I knew you’d make the team!” “And I got a date!” Mabel added joyfully and punched the air in victory. “You did?” Ford asked, bewildered how boxing could lead to romance. He looked at his brother for clarification. “She did?” “It was a productive afternoon.” Stan simply said as he hung his suit jacket up. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel climbed up into the ring, her hair up in her pink scrunchie and her little butterfly pinning back her hair so she could see her opponent. She wore red and the enemy wore yellow, like gold without the sparkle. She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth, taking her stance. The big, nasty boy with crooked teeth snarled at her, ready to take her apart, free to dominate and humiliate a girl, but that wasn’t going to happen. Just before the bell rang, Mabel glanced over to the bleachers and saw her boys screaming and cheering her on. They had painted their faces red with a white stripe down the center and Stan wore his red Hawaiian shirt, Ford his turtleneck solo, and Dipper held a sign that read “GO MABEL GO!” in big red letters with stars all over it and tons of glitter. He cleared his throat mid-shout and coughed up glitter, proof that he had made the sign himself. Mabel grinned and focused on the scummy teenager in front of her. The bell rang.

[taylorswiftexlovers]

Conor Kennedy (2012)

Taylor and Conor Kennedy met socially in July 2012 after his grandmother, Ethel Kennedy, invited Taylor to the family’s Fourth of July celebrations at the Kennedy compound in Hyannis Port MA. The couple dated from July-August 2012. Taylor has written one known song for Conor Kennedy - Everything Has Changed.

Over the Fourth of July, Taylor was photographed celebrating at the Kennedy compound waterfront property in Hyannis Port MA, and yachting with the entire extended Kennedy family.

In late July, Taylor was photographed walking along the harbour with Conor Kennedy and taking a yacht trip with his entire family.

The following day, Taylor and Conor Kennedy were photographed walking down the Cape Cod lane together.

In August, Taylor was photographed taking more yacht trips with the Kennedy family and visiting the Cape Cod beach together.

A week later, Taylor and Conor Kennedy were photographed eating at Pancake Pantry in Nashville TN with Taylor’s parents.

A week later, Taylor and Conor Kennedy were photographed back on the Cape Cod harbour and visiting the beach.

Over this weekend, they attended the wedding of Conor Kennedy’s cousin, Kyle Kennedy. According to Conor Kennedy’s aunt, Victoria Gifford-Kennedy, he had not RSVP’d to the wedding prior to attending, and had not mentioned Taylor being his addition. The couple were asked to leave after Victoria Gifford-Kennedy decided Taylor’s presence at the wedding would “distract from the bride”.

According to Paula Erikson, Taylor’s then-publicist, bride Kyle Kennedy profusely thanked Taylor for attending her wedding and that there was no truth to the “wedding crasher” headlines.

In the days following media confirmation of Taylor‘s presence in Cape Cod, fans began holidaying to the peninsula hopeful to meet her.

Taylor and Conor Kennedy were photographed walking through Cape Cod together for the rest of the month, and most notably visiting the grave of Conor Kennedy’s late mother, Mary Kennedy.

The couple’s split was confirmed in early September, citing “busy schedules” as the reason. Taylor and Conor Kennedy have not been known to have contact since.

[helenagoessensphotography]

Rexhame Beach Family Session | Marshfield MA Family Photographer

Rexhame Beach Family Session | Marshfield MA Family Photographer

It’s been such a busy start to the summer here at Helena Goessens Photography and I’m so grateful. After all the slow days thanks to COVID last year, I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend my nights. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t shared some of my favorite sessions from this season so I’m excited to be sharing this beautiful Rexhame Beach family session with you today! Nothing says summer…

[yinzxs-wonderland]

Natasha was 4 and America was segregated.

Poems are literary works that are expressed musically. It conveys various emotions like happiness, sadness, anger, love, and more which are emotions people feel every day. Poets let us feel these different emotions through imagery and different literary devices. Through these literary devices, what a poem is trying to convey is easier to understand. Some poems are needed to be analyzed deeply for us to understand and some do not because you understand it as you read. Contemporary poems are much more relatable than those of the classic and modern. Yes, classical and modern poems are great and get magical, but for readers of today, especially non-English native speakers, archaic words are difficult to understand. With contemporary poems, 21st-century readers and learners will easily understand the language that is used and relate to the events or experiences present in the poem.

As time changes, authors of the contemporary have also changed their style in writing, subjects of their works, et cetera. Free verse, a poetic form, is one of the most used forms of today’s poets, and their poems talk about relatable experiences that the readers look at, understand more, and also easily promote poetry. With the Internet and social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter, authors and readers can promote literary works through posting a review. Everyone is on their phones, scrolling to different social media accounts they have, joining what is on-trend, posting about their daily accomplishments. Literature advocates must take advantage of this to raise awareness to the youth to not forget about the literary works of the past and the present.

In the United States of America, an act of Congress established a title called the “Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry” or US Poet Laureate. The Librarian of Congress, together with the current laureate appoints the next Poet Laureate. The appointed poet laureate stresses to raise national awareness in appreciation of reading and writing poetry. One of the US Poet Laureate, Natasha Trethewey, was the Mississippi state poet laureate and the 19th US Poet Laureate. She took the position on June 7, 2012. Natasha Trethewey was born in Mississippi on April 26, 1966. Author of four poetry collections and a book of creative non-fiction. Her honors include the Pulitzer Prize and fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts. Trethewey received a BA from the University of Georgia, an MA from Hollins College, and an MFA from the University of Massachusetts.

Trethewey’s first collection of poems, Domestic Work, is a collection of poems reflecting the lives of African-Americans working class after the passing of Civil Rights Act. Domestic Work was selected by Rita Dove as the winner of the inaugural Cave Canem Poetry Prize for the best first book by an African American poet. In her introduction for Domestic Work, Rita Dove said, "Trethewey eschews the Polaroid instant, choosing to render the unsuspecting yearnings and tremulous hopes that accompany our most private thoughts—reclaiming for us that interior life where the true self flourishes and to which we return, in solitary reverie, for strength."

One of the poems from the Domestic Work is "History Lesson". The poem starts with the persona describing a photograph when she was four years old wearing a flower-printed bikini. It was taken at the beach by her grandmother in 1970. The poem then shifts its nostalgic feel to a historical event that happened in the Southern United States which was the legalization of the Jim Crow Laws. The Jim Crow Laws were laws legalizing racial segregation in the South. It started during the post-Civil War era until 1968 and existed for about a hundred years. The laws were meant to marginalized African-Americans. They were prohibited from entering public parks, beaches, and restaurants, and theaters were segregated. It also denied the African-Americans the right to education, the right to vote, land a job, or any opportunities. Those that defy the Jim Crow laws are arrested, violated, or killed.

Racial segregation laws were put to an end but racism is still prevalent even in the 21st century. It is still a huge issue in the United States where African-Americans are oppressed and discriminated against by privileged white Americans.

History Lesson Natasha Trethewey

I am four in this photograph, standing on a wide strip of Mississippi beach, my hands on the flowered hips of a bright bikini. My toes dig in, curl around wet sand. The sun cuts the rippling Gulf in flashes with each tidal rush. Minnows dart at my feet glinting like switchblades. I am alone except for my grandmother, other side of the camera, telling me how to pose. It is 1970, two years after they opened the rest of this beach to us, forty years since the photograph where she stood on a narrow plot of sand marked colored, smiling, her hands on the flowered hips of a cotton meal-sack dress.

I am four in this photograph, standing on a wide strip of Mississippi beach, my hands on the flowered hips

The first stanza of the poem tells us that the persona is describing a photograph of herself at the beach when she was four. This stanza is familiar to every little girl with a picture at the beach wearing a flower-printed bikini. It brings back memories of family trips to the beach, playing with cousins, eating good food, and memories as kids with no worries. The author uses symbolism and imagery on the third line, my hands on the flowered hips. The flower-printed bikini symbolizes every little girl on a beach trip with their family and the author uses this so readers can have detailed information about the photo. The second line also makes use of imagery, on a wide strip of Mississippi beach.

of a bright bikini. My toes dig in, curl around wet sand. The sun cuts the rippling Gulf in flashes with each

The persona continues to describe that day they were on the beach. The author also used imagery in the first and second lines, of a bright bikini and My toes dig in, curl around wet sand. This line makes the readers imagine as if they were at the beach, near the shore, their feet on wet sand where the water comes back and forth. There is also a use of personification, The sun cuts the rippling Gulf in flashes with each. The line means the sun was setting as if it's cutting the ocean and that what’s beyond or behind the sun is difficult to see.

tidal rush. Minnows dart at my feet glinting like switchblades. I am alone except for my grandmother, other side

Simile and imagery are used in the third stanza, Minnows dart at my feet glinting like switchblades. The persona described small fishes called minnows swimming fast and nearing her feet and their bodies glint like the color of switchblades, silver. The persona has also stated here that she was alone in the photo except that her grandmother was there on the other side, behind the camera, and was the one who took the photo. This stanza also connects with the first stanza as little girls are asked, sometimes forced, to pose in front of the camera, hands on their hips flaunting their flower-printed bikinis.

of the camera, telling me how to pose. It is 1970, two years after they opened the rest of this beach to us,

The fourth stanza is the shift or the turning point of the poem. The first half symbolizes happiness, carefreeness, innocence, and memories. The poet switches the tone of the poem far from what the first three stanzas. The stanzas before this stanza share an innocent picture and shift to a revelation of what it's like to be black during that time. The photograph of the persona holds a much deeper history of the persona’s family and the beach, which symbolizes progress and freedom. The stanza tells that the persona’s grandmother took the photo in 1970. With this, readers can infer that the persona is the author herself, Natasha Trethewey. Natasha Trethewey was born in the Deep South, a region in the Southern United States. Born to an African American mother and a white father. She was born when interracial marriage was against the law in Mississippi. Her parents divorced when she was six and her mother remarried but divorced her second husband as it was abusive in 1984 and a year later, murdered her mother. Trethewey said that her mother’s death prompts her to attempt writing poems.

The poem mentioned that it was two years since 1970 when the rest of the beach was opened for them. To fully understand this stanza, readers need to take into consideration, Trethewey’s biography, her hometown, and the year she mentioned in the poem. In 1968, the Jim Crow Laws were abolished. The Jim Crow laws legalized racial segregation. It was like state-enforced racism. According to Zinkel, the Jim Crow laws extend to the United States and legalized segregation and discrimination towards black Americans. It was enforced for a century and in 1964, the United States passed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 which aims to solve the toxic culture created by racial segregation. Despite guaranteed equal protection and rights to all Americans, including those of color, the Civil Rights Act did not eliminate the hatred and grudges of certain groups of white Americans toward black Americans and vice versa. Though not as extreme as during the Jim Crow, racism and prejudice still exist in the United States today and even in other parts of the world. The Jim Crow laws were no different from the Apartheid of South Africa.

The last word of the last line refers to the black Americans and that the other parts of the Mississippi beach were opened to them after the Jim Crow laws were abolished. Black Americans were not allowed to enter the beach as it was also demanded by the laws. The laws mandated segregated waiting rooms, buses, and trains. Blacks were prohibited from public parks and beaches. Also, water fountains, restrooms, building entrances, elevators, cemeteries, and even cashier windows. The law also forbade blacks to live in white neighborhoods. Segregation was also enforced in textbooks, phone booths, hospitals, jails, and residential homes. Almost everything was segregated and there are even signs that warn people that there are black neighborhoods nearby That is how extreme and petty the Jim Crow laws were.

This stanza also enlightens us why the poem is entitled History Lesson. It acts as a reminder that something so cruel happened in the history of the United States where people around the world dreamed of going and living their American dream. It also serves as a lesson that it should never happen again and people must open their minds that everyone has differences and are still humans

forty years since the photograph where she stood on a narrow plot of sand marked colored, smiling,

In this stanza, Trethewey completes the structure of the poem which is past and present. This stanza denotes the change of time. The persona is now describing the photograph of her grandmother on the same beach where her photo was taken. The difference between the persona’s photo and her grandmother is that she only stood on a narrow plot, while in her photo, she was standing on a wide Mississippi beach. The photo of her grandmother has a sign saying colored while hers was just the wide beach with no signs. Her grandmother was also smiling but was her smile genuine? Maybe yes or maybe no as she was on a smaller part of the beach.

her hands on the flowered hips of a cotton meal-sack dress.

The last stanza of the poem, a couplet, still compares the persona and her grandmother. They both were photographed on the same beach, hands on the flowered hips, wearing flower-printed clothing but her grandmother was wearing a cotton meal-sack dress while the persona was wearing a bikini. This implies the change of time because, during her grandmother’s time, bikinis wear not normalize, and even so they were black so they were prohibited from many things. On the other hand, during the persona’s time, even when she was only four years old, it was fine to wear a bikini. The persona’s child-self wears a bikini, which acts as a symbol of progress, no more dreadful sign saying colored and only just the beach behind her while the grandmother’s meal-sack dress symbolizes poverty, women's oppression, and racism. Trethewey focused on the detailed changes of time such as how the clothing changed and women can now wear bikinis rather than sack dresses. She also raised awareness using the desegregated as a beginning of a much bigger change. History Lesson is about the persona’s life when she was four. The first half of the poem talks about the persona and the second half were her grandmother’s. It is entitled

History Lesson as it teaches us a lesson from history and everyone needs to enjoy the time before it passes out on us. The poem presents history poetically by comparing one photograph from the past to a photograph of a much earlier time. It also proved that somehow time moves progressively which is indicated by the desegregated beach. The poem only used two figures of speech, simile, and personification, but it uses strong imagery specifically sight and touch. It also uses symbolism such as the desegregated beach and bikini symbolizing progress and freedom, meal-sack rice which symbolizes poverty, oppression, and racism, flowers printed on the two different clothing which symbolizes femininity, and the two photographs symbolizing time.

Its tone of the first half of the poem is happy as the persona reminisces memories of a trip to the beach and the tone shifts in the second half of the poem, it was sad as the grandmother experienced most of her time as someone who is oppressed. The significance of this poem is that it introduces us to what happened to African Americans from the time of extreme oppression and racism. The poem also gives importance to studying and knowing our history and never forget about it. Like the beach, history keeps going back and forth like the waves coming and retreating over and over again. The background of the author also helped in understanding the poem as the persona of the poem represents the author and what her family experienced.

Knowing the background of the author helped in analyzing the historic event that happened behind the words of the poem which was a century of state-enforced racism. Therefore, Natasha Trethewey’s History Lesson from her collection Domestic Work conveys freedom after a long period of oppression and discrimination and the persona of the poem is the poet.

Works Cited Online Sources

O, Carolyn. “a narrow plot of sand: Natasha Trethewey’s “History Lesson” from Domestic Work.” Rosemary and Reading Glasses, 2015 March 24, https://rosemaryandreadingglasses.com/2015/03/24/a-narrow-plot-of-sand-natasha- tretheweys-history-lesson-from-domestic-work/

Orkin, Martin, and A. Joubin. "Race: New critical idiom series." (2019). https://www.researchgate.net/publication/342179402_Ten_Quotes_from_Researchers_Exploring_Issues_Around_Race_by_the_Scholarly_Kitchen_Race_often_brings_to_mind_people_who_are_not_white_while_whiteness_remains_unmarked_and_serves_as_a_benchmark_category

Parks, Rosa, and Gregory J. Reed. “Dear Mrs. Parks: A Dialogue with Today's Youth.” Lee & Low Books, 1996. Retrieved from: https://libquotes.com/rosa-parks/quote/lbb7s5g

Trethewey, Natasha. “History Lesson.” 2000. Poetry Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47538/history-lesson-56d2280d442a7. Accessed 30 October 2020. Zinkel, Benjamin. "Apartheid and Jim Crow: Drawing Lessons from South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation." J. Disp. Resol. (2019): 229. https://poets.org/poet/natasha-trethewey

https://www.loc.gov/item/no00088459/natasha-trethewey/

October, 2020

[thepteryx]

The list of movies and tv-shows (Multifandom Mashup 2019)

Movies:

1917

21 Bridges

47 Meters Down: Uncaged

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

A Dog's Journey

A Dog's Way Home

A Hidden Life

A Madea Family Funeral

A Rainy Day in New York

A Violent Separation

Abominable

Ad Astra

After

Aladdin

Alita: Battle Angel

Always Be My Maybe

Angel Has Fallen

Angel of mine

Anna

Annabelle Comes Home

Anthem Of A Teenage Prophet

Avengers: Endgame

Batman: Hush

Beats

Bennett's War

Bharat

Black Christmas

Blinded by the Light

Booksmart

Breakthrough

Brightburn

Brittany Runs a Marathon

Can You Keep a Secret?

Captain Marvel

Cats

Charlie's Angels

Child's Play

Cold Pursuit

Crawl

Crypto

Dark Phoenix

Daughter of the Wolf

Doctor Sleep

Dolemite Is My Name

Dolor y gloria

Doom: Annihilation

Dora and the Lost City of Gold

Downton Abbey

Dumbo

El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie

Escape Plan: The Extractors

Escape Room

Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile

Falling Inn Love

Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw

Fighting with My Family

Five Feet Apart

Ford v Ferrari

Frozen II

Gemini Man

Glass

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Good Boys

Good Sam

Happy Death Day 2U

Haunt

Hellboy

Hello, Love, Goodbye

Honey Boy

How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World

Hustlers

I Am Mother

I Spit on Your Grave: Deja Vu

Iron Sky: The Coming Race

Isn't It Romantic

It Chapter Two

Jay and Silent Bob Reboot

John Wick: Chapter 3

Jojo Rabbit

Joker

Judy

Jumanji: The Next Level

K-12

Killerman

Kingdom

Lady and the Tramp

Last Christmas

Late Night

Life Like

Little

Little Women

Long Shot

Luce

Lucifer

Ma

Maleficent: Mistress of Evil

Marriage Story

Men in Black: International

Midsommar

Midway

Miss Bala

Missing Link

Motherless Brooklyn

Murder Mystery

Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase

Never Grow Old

Noelle

Notebook

Official Secrets

Oh, Ramona!

Once Upon a Time ... in Hollywood

Parasite (기생충)

Pet Sematary

Photograph

Pokémon Detective Pikachu

Polar

Polaroid

Portrait de la jeune fille en feu

Rambo: Last Blood

Ready or Not

Rim of the World

Rocketman

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

See You Yesterday

Serenity

Shaft

Shazam!

Someone Great

Spider-Man: Far from Home

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

Stuber

Terminator: Dark Fate

The Addams Family

The Aeronauts

The Aftermath

The Angry Birds Movie 2

The Art of Racing in the Rain

The Art of Self-Defense

The Beach Bum

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind

The Dead Don't Die

The Dirt

The Farewell

The Goldfinch

The Highwaymen

The Hustle

The Informer

The Intruder

The Irishman

The Kid Who Would Be King

The King

The Kitchen

The Last Black Man in San Francisco

The Last Summer

The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part

The Lion King

The Mustang

The Peanut Butter Falcon

The Perfect Date

The Prodigy

The Professor and the Madman

The Queen's Corgi

The Report

The Secret Life of Pets 2

The Souvenir

The Sun Is Also a Star

The Wandering Earth (流浪地球)

Tolkien

Toy Story 4

Triple Frontier

Triple Threat

UglyDolls

Us

Velvet Buzzsaw

Weathering With You (天气之子)

What Men Want

Wonder Park

Yesterday

Zeroville

Zombieland: Double Tap

Queen & Slim

Tv-shows:

13 Reasons Why

Angel's Last Mission: Love (단, 하나의 사랑)

Anne With An E

Big Little Lies

Carnival Row

Chernobyl

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Dark

Game of Thrones

Gank Your Heart (陪你到世界之巅)

Good Omens

Gotham

Her Private Life (그녀의 사생활)

His Dark Materials

Hotel Del Luna (호텔 델루나)

Killing Eve

Legacies

Legion

Lucifer

Memories of the Alhambra (알함브라 궁전의 추억)

My Country: The New Age (나의 나라)

Riverdale

Romance is a Bonus Book (로맨스는 별책부록)

Search: WWW (검색어를 입력하세요: WWW)

Skam France

Stranger Things

Strangers from Hell (타인은 지옥이다 )

The 100

The Big Bang Theory

The King's Avatar (全职高手)

The Mandalorian

The Punisher

The Umbrella Academy

The Untamed (陈情令)

The Witcher

Touch Your Heart (진심이 닿다)

Vagabond (배가본드)

Vikings

Watchmen

When the Devil Calls Your Name (악마가 너의 이름을 부를 때)

Animation:

Bungou Stray Dogs

Mo Dao Zu Shi

[processproductionsophielindsay]

TRACEY EMIN

Tracey Emin, Everyone I Have Ever Slept With (1995)

https://bilderfahrzeuge.hypotheses.org/3437

Tracey Emin, Why I Never Became a Dancer (1995)

https://www.artforum.com/video/tracey-emin-why-i-never-became-a-dancer-1995-49262

Tracey Emin, My Bed, (1999)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Bed

Tracey Emin, I've Got It All (2000)

https://www.theartstory.org/artist/emin-tracey/artworks/#pnt_4

Tracey Emin, To Meet My Past (2002)

https://www.christies.com/en/lot/lot-5709375

Childhood

Tracey Emin was born in Surrey, in England. She grew up in Margate, on the coast of Kent, with her twin brother Paul. She lived with her mother in a successful seaside hotel, where she claims she was treated "like a princess." Her Turkish father lived with them for half of the week, spending the other half with his wife and other children. After a few years, Emin's father left and took his money with him, leaving Emin's mother bankrupt.

The family was then forced to live in poverty; Emin later recalled that they had two meters, one for gas and one for electricity, but they could never afford to have them both on at the same time. When she was 13, Emin was raped; something that she later claimed, "happened to a lot of girls."

Early Training and Work

Emin left Margate to study fashion at the Medway College of Design between 1980 and 1982. She met the avant-garde personality Billy Childish, who was also a student at the college until he was expelled. Her relationship with the colourful writer, their work at Childish's small press, and her study of printing in Maidstone Art College, are all what Emin considers important artistic experiences in her maturing as an artist.

In 1987, Emin's relationship with Childish ended and she moved to London. She studied for an MA in painting at the Royal College of Art, which she received in 1989. However, after leaving the college she went through an emotionally traumatic period in which she had two abortions, and this experience caused her to destroy all the work she had made at the Royal College.

While she was still coming to terms with her own artistic practice, she influenced a reactive movement called Stuckism, which sought to promote figurative painting rather than the sort of conceptual art that Emin was focused on at the time. It was founded in 1999 by Emin's ex-boyfriend Billy Childish. The movement's name was inspired by Emin, when she had told Childish his paintings were "Stuck! Stuck! Stuck!"

In the years after breaking up with Childish, once Emin rose into fame, he became very vocal about Emin's art practice. He opposed the art business and in turn the popularity of her work and said, "Taking cultural things and turning them into mere commerce is very dangerous. Professional football has ruined football and professional art has ruined art. A decadence and superficiality have set in and sometimes I wonder if maybe we have got what we deserve. I think it is odd that the Brit artists cite the influence of someone like Duchamp who was involved in anti-art and who was taking the piss out of the pompous pretentious art establishment. The biggest irony is that now they are that pretentious art establishment themselves, yet they still put forward this idea that they are undermining something." Childish's own Stuckism movement is more about rejecting the frenzy of conceptual art and sought to champion the work of figurative painters. The Stuckism movement is still quite active and is famous for protesting the Turner Prize every year to show their continued opposition. The Stuckism art movement is an action against artists such as Emin, and yet her artistic presence is the basis for their fundamentals, for their movement would not exist without Emin. She inspired the movement not only through her criticism of Childish's work, but also through her artwork and the public acceptance of her work. They may be in opposition to her but require her brand of art fame to continue their plight.

Mature Period

Upon moving to London, Emin become friendly with many of the other artists who would later be called the Young British Artists, which included Sarah Lucas and Damien Hirst. The group began to exhibit together in 1988, although Emin did not join ranks with them artistically until the early 1990s. The gallerist Charles Saatchi was a supporter and collector of the artists from the beginning of their careers and is often given credit for "discovering" them. The name of the group was from the title of an exhibition at Saatchi's gallery in March 1992 titled "Young British Artists I" but it was artist and writer Michael Corris who referred to the group of artists with that title in an ArtForum article in May 1992. Often all artists of that generation from Britain are called YBAs as it now holds a historic reference.

In 1993, Emin joined with Sarah Lucas to open a shop called "The Shop" in Bethnal Green, which was in the East End of London. They sold work by both artists, including anything from t-shirts to ash trays, to paper mache sex toys to dresses, adding a previously little-seen commercialism to their artistic practices, which would become a defining feature of Young British Art.

Emin had her first solo exhibition at London's White Cube in the same year. Named My Major Retrospective, Emin drew together a collection of personal items and photographs, creating a part-installation part-archive with a strongly autobiographical slant. This element of autobiography is key to her ongoing practice.

In the middle of the 1990s, Emin began a relationship with curator and art world figure Carl Freedman. Freedman was friendly with Damien Hirst and had worked with him on some of his important early shows that introduced Young British Art to the public. In 1994 the couple travelled in the US together, where Emin paid her way by doing readings. They also spent time in Whitstable on the Kent coast together, often using a beach hut that Emin purchased with her friend Sarah Lucas. She has spoken about how much she enjoyed owning property for the first time saying, "I was completely broke, and it was really brilliant, having your own property by the sea." In 1999 she later turned the hut into an artwork by bringing the structure from the beachfront into the Saatchi Gallery and calling the work, The Last Thing I Said to You is Don't Leave Me Here (1999).

In 1995, Freedman curated a show called "Minky Manky" for which he encouraged Emin to make artwork larger and less ephemeral. The result was her well-known work Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963-1995 (1995), which was a tent embroidered with the names of everyone with whom she had shared a bed, sexual or otherwise. This artistic touch through words is a common theme throughout her work. Emin uses her own handwriting, as seen in her neon messages, embroidered words, monoprints and hand-cut letters for her applique designs. Misspellings and grammar mistakes are present in her artworks, as if to add humiliations and failures to her authenticity.

Emin first came to the attention of the wider British public when she appeared on a television show about the Turner Prize in 1997, where she was belligerent and drunk, swearing on live television among a panel of academics. She finished her appearance by saying, "I'm leaving now, I wanna be with my friends, I wanna be with my mum. I'm gonna phone her, and she's going to be embarrassed about this conversation, this is live, and I don't care. I don't give a fuck about it." She ended with, "you people aren't relating to me now, you've lost me" before taking off her lapel mic while still talking and walking off in the middle of the live show.

Two years after her drunken television appearance, Emin was nominated for the Turner Prize for her controversial work My Bed (1998). Only one British artist of the four nominated can win the prize, and Emin lost the Prize that year to Steve McQueen. The surrounding press coverage dubbed her the "bad girl of British art". At the time, many voiced opinions about the types of stains and impurities contained in her artwork, even the lowest English tabloids weighed in. Although she never won the Turner Prize (yet), it was the catalyst for her fame.

Her work evolved during this period and she developed a more specific style. Her choice to use needlework and applique techniques place her work within a tradition of feminist discourse within modern and contemporary art. These techniques were considered domestic handicrafts and were typically considered low in the hierarchy of art, and a part of normalized feminine practice - a concept that Feminist art has waged war against with significant success. Emin herself has no fear of being associated with "low art" or "women's work", for she embraces her own sexuality and femininity; and most certainly places importance upon it.

Current Practice

Emin's personal life and public appearances have become less sensational since the late 1990s. Her work is in a variety of important collections, and many celebrities have become collectors of her art, including Elton John and George Michael. She has also become friends with many famous people from the music and fashion worlds, including Ronnie Wood of the Rolling Stones, Vivian Westwood, Kate Moss, and Madonna. Madonna has described Emin as "intelligent and wounded and not afraid to expose herself."

In 2007, Emin was made a Royal Academician at London's Royal Academy of the Arts, marking her ascent into the upper echelons of British art society and her acceptance by the establishment. She was later also made a professor of drawing at the institution. In 2013, she was included on a list of the 100 most powerful women in the country by BBC Radio 4, and in the same year she was awarded a CBE for her services to the arts.

For the 52nd Venice Biennale in 2007 Emin was the second female British artist to be nominated to represent the British Pavilion (the first was Rachel Whiteread in 1997). She exhibited a work titled, Borrowed Light which featured many of her early drawings alongside her recent works. The show received mixed critique, and she was criticized for being limited in her art practice.

In 2015, Emin took the unusual decision to "get married" to a rock in her garden in France. She later stated that "somewhere on a hill facing the sea, there is a very beautiful ancient stone, and it's not going anywhere," describing her rock-husband as "an anchor, something I can identify with." She symbolically chose to wear her father's funeral shroud for the short and unconventional ceremony. This is to be understood as a universal expression of love, and an expression of the soul or the invisible self. Emin has announced numerous times that she no longer has sex and is not invested in physical conquest, but rather, seeks to focus on love and her work.

The Legacy of Tracey Emin

Emin's work as part of the Young British Artists movement placed her firmly within a key legacy that was to affect the development of art in Britain for years to come. Similarly, she holds an international stage, for her work tackles universal ideas through her relationship to human behaviour and gender. Her seminal work My Bed helped redefine what a liberated woman can be. Emin’s work influenced a generation of female artists who explore womanhood and feminism through a self-confessional tone. These include artists such as Marie Jacotey-Voyatzis, whose print works explore her emotional life as a woman and include Emin-like misspellings, and Laure Prouvost, a Turner Prize winner who works with self-revelatory video as well as textiles and found objects to create striking tableaux. Emin has evaded aligning her ideology with a larger political cause, and has stated, "I'm not happy being a feminist. It should all be over by now."

Her work can be understood as belonging to the ethos of third-wave feminism; a belief that a woman can define her sexuality on her own terms. The lack of symbology in Emin's work forces audiences to focus on the real and often taboo aspects of femininity through modern women's issues, such as menstruation, abortion, promiscuity, and the shame associated with these topics. She has carved her own place and continues to produce artwork with her signature strong, yet vulnerable edge.

Emin continues to be active in her art practice, and the basis of her work remains tied to physical identity through corporeal and spiritual anguish. She is an active participant in her artwork, and through this she lends an openness and vulnerability to her audience through universal emotion. She rejects discussion of the feminist authority in her work, and yet she engages directly with modern female identity. Art allows the violation of social norms, and in turn a way for viewers to enter sharing the human social condition - often in a controlled environment.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Across Seven Seas

Chapter 2

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

P.S- All the photographs used in the chapters are of the real locations mentioned. I clicked these photographs on my vacation.

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 2

Same day, 5:45pm - Dehradun Airport, India

The airplane cabin was lit with soft evening sunlight as the plane descended on the runway. Resting her head against the window, Meera tried her best to soak up the warmth. After collecting their bags, the family of four headed towards the taxi stand, looking for the hotel cab scheduled to pick them up from the airport.

Meera spotted the handheld sign 'SHANKARS' in the sea of drivers. Waving her hand, heads turned in their direction as she called out to the driver. "Meera at least try to be a little lady-like, let Rohan deal with the driver," urged her mother. "Seriously Ma? Deal with the driver? We just needed to get his attention and put our luggage in the car," said Meera, rolling her eyes. As the driver led them towards the cab, Rohan and Meera grabbed the luggage from the airport trolley. After the bags were kept safely in the trunk of the car, Meera returned the trolley to the stand. Her mother chided as she walked back, "What was the need to do that? There are workers who are hired to do this work." "Yes Ma but we used that trolley for our work, right? So we can keep it back in place as well. It makes life a little easier for the airport staff." "Why do you need to make their life easier? They get salary for their jobs." "Ma they stand on their feet for almost their entire shift. Even if a few people return their trolleys to the station, it can offer them some respite na?" Meera tried to reason, but her mother scoffed. "At least you can try to walk normally." Turning to look at her mother, Meera cocked an eyebrow, her expression saying "Really?"

It would be incorrect to describe Meera's walk as 'dainty'. Keeping her broad shoulders wide and her back straight, Meera held her head high while walking, controlling the swing of her hands by her side. She made it a point not to sway her hips but instead walked with her legs apart. Moreover, the attitude with which she walked always gave the impression that she is charging towards her target. With a height of 5ft 7", she often loomed over other women, her extra weight adding bulk to her persona.

Being the closest city to the hill station Mussoorie, Dehradun was a hub of activity. Alive with modern shopping centres, fancy restaurants, malls and a buzzing nightlife, the beauty of it all was lost on Meera. For her, it were the heritage sites in the city that piqued her interest. She was longing to explore places such as the Watch Tower built in the 1930s, a 50-year-old monastery and the Forest Research Institution, built in the 17th century that housed 3 museums. These places of cultural interest seemlessly merged themselves with the crowded city.

It was almost 7pm by the time they reached their hotel in the city. The plan was to rest overnight, then leave for the hill station early in the morning. While Mussoorie was just around 3 hours away, Meera knew it would take more time for them to reach their destination in the hills, with her motion sickness slowing them down on the winding hilly roads. She looked through the hotel room window, her inner nerd itching to visit the museums, walk amongst the city dwellers, learn more about their culture, their lifestyles. But alas, her family had other plans.

While her brother had started drinking alcohol the minute he entered his room, Poppy and Meera's mother were already on the bed, surfing through the TV channels. "Bala," Meera's mother called her, "Why are you standing near the window? Are you feeling unwell?" "Just looking outside the window Ma," she replied. "Why?" her mother pressed on, "You even took a long time in the bathroom. Are you okay?" With that, Meera turned around, visibly irritated, "Ma how many times have I told you it is creepy to keep track of my bathroom schedule? I HATE it when you do that!" "What is creepy in that? I am your mother. I have every right to know what are you doing, and when and where are you doing it." "No you don't!" exclaimed Meera, "You cannot keep a track of everything that I do Ma. I am 30 years old now and..." "29 years old," corrected her mother. "How does it matter?" continued Meera, "Stop nagging me all the time!" "But why are you looking out of the window? There's nothing to see," her mother insisted. "I am just looking out of the window because that's all we will get to do here AND in Mussoorie! Just sit and look. Nobody wants to go out, nobody wants to explore. Just sit in the comfortable chair in cold weather and look outside. That's all we do on EVERY vacation! That's all we ever do!" "You can also watch TV or maybe read a book," suggested Poppy. "Yes we spent thousands of rupees just to watch TV or read a book. Brilliant idea!" replied Meera sarcastically. "I can't believe I have 2 weeks to either look at mountains or at TV." "We will also go out Bala," her mother tried to reason with her. "Yes, Rohan will go out to buy alcohol from the local shops, he will then keep drinking like a fish and fall sick, which will cause you to worry. After he recovers, all of us will step outside once to see a handful of tourist attractions. And that's it. That's all the 'outings' I will have. Because you will never let me go out alone na. So I will be stuck at the hotel," concluded Meera, "This is why I wanted to go to a beach resort for our vacation. At least there would have been something to do at the beach." "I don't like beaches," said her mother. "I know," Meera sighed in resignation, turning back to look out of the window into the darkness.

6th September, 4:45am - Logan Airport, Boston, USA:

Chris had his eyes closed, trying to breathe through the anxiety which consumed him. He had been wrong in thinking that the paparazzi would not catch up with them if they caught an early plane. The swarm of reporters who were gathered outside the VIP entrance of the airport had been out for blood, desparate to capture a snap of the infamous Chris Evans. While regular photographers could have still been managed, the reporters with cameramen and mics certainly did not make it easier for him to walk through the gates of the airport. "People are now calling you the Disgraced Captain, how does that make you feel Chris?", "Do you want to share a message with your disappointed fans?", "When are you going to apologize to the public Chris?" His breathing became laboured as the reporters' questions started playing in his mind like a playlist on loop.

Scott sat besides him, rubbing his shoulders gently. Chris' condition was worrisome for the entire family. Chris had been unable to handle his downfall, and it had taken a toll on his mental, emotional and physical health. He only ever smiled and laughed with Dodger now, and even then, his eyes wore a distant look. No amount of therapy had helped his elder brother. Things started slipping further when Chris had completely stopped grooming himself. His hair and beard had outgrown his face, with only his nose and blue eyes visible. Chris had even started giving up on the gym, barely trying to maintain his muscular figure. Where rock-hard abs once dotted his torso, now a small flab of fat replaced it. Luckily though, his sweater hid the tiny gut well.

"Hey... Hey c'mon now, you know how harsh the media can be right? I am sure this will all blow over in a few weeks. Just take deep breaths. 🎶Just keep breathing, just keep breathing breathing🎶," Scott tried his best to hum, hoping to bring a smile on the hairy meatballs' face. But instead, he was greeted with teary eyes. "They are right, aren't they? I disappointed so many people. I lost so much Scott. I can't even begin to..." "This flight is about to take off," interrupted the airhostess, "Tie your seatbelts," she left with that curt instruction. When Scott turned to look at his brother again, Chris had angled his body towards the wall, already looking outside the window, at the first pale yellow signs of the rising sun. This is going to be a long flight, thought Scott.

Same day, 8pm - Dehradun Hotel, India

It was finally time for dinner. Wearing 2 jackets and a skull cap, Meera looked at herself in the mirror once before heading downstairs. She looked comical. Her overweight body looking larger with the bomber jacket, the skull cap covering most of her head, her black hair and her ears. Her glasses snuggly resting on her nose and her hands in the pockets of the thick pants she wore. She was not sure of the material. But hey, those pants kept her warm and better yet, they came with pockets! If only we would have gone to a warmer location, thought Meera ruefully, I could have worn my dresses. At least I would have still looked like a woman. A dry, homeless laugh escaped her lips. Ma would sacrifice her limbs to get me to behave like a woman.

This was going to be a cold and long vacation, and Meera was not looking forward to it.

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary ‘20 - Week One: Burn

Why yes, it is the last day of January and I am posting my ficlet for the prompt of the first week, but I don’t care.

As a quick frame of reference, this ficlet takes place in my Superhero/villain AU, which is a superhero AU of my own design.  In it, Stan has pyrokinesis (the ability to control fire) and Ford can teleport things if he’s touched them before.  Also, Ma Pines is a retired superhero, in whose footsteps Stan eventually follows.  But this ficlet takes place before then, after Stan was kicked out of the house due to the science fair incident, while Stan is still homeless and roaming around the country.

That’s about all you need to know to follow the ficlet but if you’re curious about the rest of the AU (since there’s a LOT more to it than what I just described), feel free to check out its tag on my writing blog and my main blog.

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              Stan couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t have his powers. According to his mom, his powers manifested when he was two, in a very showy manner.  Ma Pines liked to point out the burn marks on the wall in the kitchen to him whenever she felt he needed to be embarrassed.

              “That was when I realized that I needed to up my parenting game.  I mean, you tried to burn the house down just ‘cause I wouldn’t let you spoil your dinner!”

              Stan could, however, remember very well when he first learned the limit of his powers.  He was six. Ma Pines had set out a candle for Stan to practice controlling.  It went smoothly at first – Stan made the flame grow and shrink, even coaxed it out of its native teardrop shape into a triangular one.  Things went south when he tried to scoop the flame into his hands.

              That was something he’d done plenty of times before with flames he’d generated himself.  In fact, it was one of his favorite tricks.  Flames raced down his arms and into his cupped hands, then he’d throw them up into the air, where the sparks would go out almost instantly, as he lacked any ability yet to make them last.

              It was a trick his mom insisted he only do outside, with his older brother Shermie standing by ready with a bucket of water and a fire extinguisher.

              But the day he tried to do that trick with the candle, he felt something completely foreign: a burn.  His shriek of pain reverberated throughout the house and his mom appeared by his side so quickly it was like she had super speed instead of telekinesis.

              “What happened, Stanley Danley?” she cooed, cupping his face in her hands.

              “The- the candle-” Stan sobbed, “it- it hurt me!”  Ma Pines then inspected Stan’s hands carefully and gently, turning them over.  She stroked his cheek.

              “It’s okay, sweetie.  Just a coupla minor burns, that’s all.  We’ve been stockin’ up on that good burn cream ever since you accidentally set my rose bush on fire, just in case somethin’ like this happened.  Come on.”  Ma Pines guided him towards the bathroom, where she set him up running his hands under cool water.  Stan watched her through teary eyes as she dug through the cabinet, looking for the burn cream.  “Ah! Here we are.”  She set a tub of something called “Silvadene” on the counter. “So, how did you get burned?”

              “The candle.”

              “Did you try to touch the candle’s flame?” Ma Pines asked.  Stan nodded tearfully.  “Why would you do that?”

              “Fire never hurt me before,” Stan whined.  Ma Pines stroked his rambunctious curls.

              “Well, you’ve never tried to touch fire that wasn’t your own before.”

              “Huh?”

              “I’ve had my suspicions for a while now about how powerful you are.” Ma Pines’ voice adopted a lecturing tone.  Stan immediately began to focus more.  Whenever Ma Pines told him about superpowers, it was smart to listen.  She didn’t like repeating herself, particularly given that Stan wanted to follow in her footsteps someday and be a superhero. “I’ve told you before that elementals like yourself have distinct levels of abilities.”

              “Level one, two, and three,” Stan said obediently.  Ma Pines smiled at him.

              “That’s right.  I knew you were at least a level two, since you can create your own fire.  Level one pyrokinetics can only control fire, they can’t generate it.”  Stan nodded. “But lately I’ve been leaning towards you being level two, not level three.  You don’t seem to have the powers a level three pyro should.  You getting burned confirms it.  A level three pyro is completely fireproof, while a level two would be vulnerable to fire they don’t themselves generate.”  Ma Pines turned the faucet off and began to carefully towel Stan’s hands.

              “I’m a wimp, then,” Stan said quietly.  Ma Pines stopped drying to frown at her son.

              “I never said that.  Level two is perfectly respectable for an elemental.  Your great-great-grandfather was the only elemental in this family’s history before you came along, and he was a level one pyro.  Level threes are very rare.  In all the time I put on my mask and took care of evildoers, I only ever met one level three elemental.  Do you know who that was?”

              “Sirocco?” Stan asked after a moment, naming the only elemental he knew of.

              “That’s right.  She was a level three aerokinetic.  Worldwide, there’s only a handful of people with that strength of power.”  Ma Pines set aside the towel and started putting the burn cream on Stan’s hands.  “You’ve got a lot of potential, sweetie.  Now we know your limits, we can really work on making sure you live up to all that potential.”

----- 

              Stan thought back to that day as he watched the Juke Joint burn down.  It had been abandoned for years now, so the fire crews standing by were just focusing on keeping the fire from spreading, rather than extinguishing the whole building.  He leaned against the Stanleymobile and wrestled with what he felt the urge to do.

              Since the day he’d learned he could be burned, he’d found out about his other limits.  Namely, that his lungs were vulnerable to smoke.  The rasp he’d developed after picking up cigarettes was proof enough of that.

              If I run inside, I can fuck myself up in a million different ways. Fire he didn’t himself create was more difficult to control; Stan liked to think of it as being feral, much like the possum he’d tried to train as a child.  It would take a lot of concentration to keep the flames from scorching him.  Even if he managed to get in and out without burning, he’d still be breathing in smoke. But would it really be that bad? I mean, I do that for fun.  What’s a few more puffs of smoke?  Still, Stan could feel himself tensing with nerves, both trying to charge into the building and resisting that urge at the same time.

              “You came back to town for a reason,” he told himself firmly.  “Don’t let that go to waste.”  Stan closed his eyes and pictured where he would find what he’d come for.  Emboldened, he opened his eyes.  “C’mon, Stan. Just do it.  You’ll be fine.”

              Probably.  Stan half-walked, half-jogged over to the other side of the building, away from the observing fire crews.  He took a deep breath and spread his arms wide, parting the flames covering the back entrance.  Already, he could feel the fire resisting him.  He grit his teeth.

              “Hell, no.  You’re gonna do what I tell you, capisce?” he ground out.  The resistance against his control dwindled.  He grinned.  “That’s right.”  Stan sprinted into the diner, clearing the flames ahead of him as he ran.  By the time he got to the parlor where the booths were, his breath was running ragged in his throat.

              Gotta move fast, Stan.  You won’t be able to keep the fire off you for long.  Stan quickly scanned the room.  The smoke filling the room made it near impossible to make out any details. Stan chewed on the inside of his cheek. Great.  Okay.  Think. Where did they keep it?  Stan fumbled his way over to the counter, where he dimly remembered a corkboard hanging on the wall, covered in pictures. He brushed his hands over the wall. Ha!  Under his fingers, he could feel tacks and what could be paper or photographs.  No time to figure out which one is which.  Just take all of ‘em.  Stan quickly pulled the pictures off the corkboard, tearing them in his haste and not caring. Get out!  Get out!  Stan stumbled through the haze of smoke and flames, his control over the fire loosening. Flames tugged at his clothes and skin, scorching him.

              “Just get out,” Stan grunted to himself.  After what felt like an eternity, he escaped through the back door, burned and coughing.  He bent over to wheeze loudly.  Fresh air filled his lungs.

              Sweet Moses, I never realized how sweet the air in Glass Shard Beach is. Relatively speaking.  Stan straightened his back and looked at the scraps in his hands.  Time to see if it was worth it.  He began to flip through the stack of photos, tossing each one on the ground as he realized it wasn’t the one he wanted.  At the second-to-last photo, he stopped.  Is it… He rubbed off a thin layer of soot and smiled slowly.

              “Got ‘im,” he whispered, staring at the picture.  The Juke Joint would take pictures of kids who had their parties at the restaurant, and if asked, would hang the pictures up on the wall. On their seventeenth birthday, the last one they’d celebrated together, Ford and Stan had done just that.  Stan was wearing both his conical paper party hat and Ford’s, his arm slung around Ford’s shoulder.  They were both laughing with their eyes closed, their food forgotten on their plates.

              Stan stared at the picture for a few moments before tucking it into his back pocket.  He leaned against the Stanleymobile and watched The Juke Joint finish burning down to the ground.  The fire crews in the front began to extinguish the remaining embers.  Stan winced as the night air brushed across his fresh burns.

              I’ll never get used to how that feels.  A small smile played at the corners of his mouth.  But this time, it was worth it.