trophy walls

7

Modern style Hunters Wall by Urbanmasquarade

Tzachi Nevo is the designer, who founded Urbanmasquarade, an Israel based design company that creates modern, decorative wall decor masks from wood.

Their latest Series is called Hunters Wall and is a modern, animal protecting, humorist interpretation of wall trophies. They fit well in an office or a living room as well as a kids room.

Send ✘ for my muse to say to yours...

Brutal edition.

  1. “I wonder what you look like on the inside.”
  2. “You won’t be leaving this place alive.”
  3. “Keep screaming; no one will hear you.”
  4. “Try to run, I dare you!”
  5. “You’re going to make a beautiful trophy for my wall.”
  6. “I hope your blood tastes as lovely as I imagine.”
  7. “Poor, poor lost soul.”
  8. “I’ll make it quick, don’t worry.”
  9. “You’re going to be here a while.”
  10. “I’ll never get enough of the sound of screams.”
  11. “Look at my tools. This one is my favorite.”
  12. “I apologize for any discomfort you might feel.”
  13. “This is going to be more enjoyable for me than it is for you.”
  14. “Get back here! Don’t run from me!”
  15. “That’s right, run away! You’ll get nowhere!”
  16. “No matter where you go, I will always find you.”
  17. “Just trust me. I would never hurt you.”
  18. “How dare you talk back to me?!”
  19. “Comfortable? No? Too bad.”
  20. “The first cut/bite is always my favorite.”
  21. “You’re such a lovely specimen.”
  22. “This will only hurt for a moment.”
  23. “Shh, don’t cry.”
  24. “You were so brave before now. What happened?”
  25. “You should know better than to wander alone.”
Snapshots from a (much) later future
  • An apartment for two. Crystalline figures, lined up an equal distance apart from each other, kept in a glass case in the study room, away from the cats.
  • An exy racquet signed ‘Knox’, in the back of a closet filled with various workout clothes. An XXL sized t-shirt hangs from one of the plastic hangers, jutting out incongruously from the smaller sized clothing. On it are the faded words ‘World’s Best Dad’, ‘Coach’ written underneath it in parentheses. It still smells like smoke.
  • A trophy case in an empty locker room, freshly cleaned after a match. It’s filled to the brim with medals and trophies. On the same wall, an overcrowded collection of photos. Everyone in them is smiling if you squint your eyes and tilt your head.
  • An urn filled with ash, built to be the centerpiece of a fountain in front of the house. If you look closely, you might see engraved on it, 'In loving memory of Bryan Seth Gordon’. 
  •  Various bottles of half used brightly colored hair dye sitting in a box to be shipped out. The owner doesn’t need them anymore. The little girl she’s been writing to needs them more.
  • A stuffed fox plushie tucked into the bed of at least 3 different children, all of whom’s parents will never forget the nostalgia of their college days.
  • A set of black arm bands beneath a pillow. The color has faded to gray, but the 'To Robin’ written in Sharpie on the inner label hasn’t. 
  •  A set of black arm bands tucked away in the back of a drawer. They haven’t seen light in a while. Neither have the knives hidden inside them.
Time Lady

PAIRING: Eleventh Doctor x Reader

WORD COUNT: 765

WARNINGS: Fluff, a kiss.

A/N: I almost confused myself writing this. I don’t know why though. Forget about RIVER SONG in this because the Reader is the Doctor’s bond. I hope it’s good!

*Eleventh Doctor*
~

You are awake by an abnormal noise. You sit up, unsure of what to do. The only thing you know is that you can kick ass, so you’re not worried about being hurt by an intruder. You took martial arts all your life. You’re pretty much a ninja.

You hop out of the bed quietly. You quickly slip a pair of shoes on, without socks. You grab your staff that’s sitting on your trophy wall. Again, you were in martial arts for twenty years. Your first lesson was when you were six, and now your twenty eight.

You creep down the stairs, almost missing a step. You debate whether to turn the light on. You creep down the hallway and you finally hear a sound. It sounds like a door is opening. You raise an eyebrow and hide behind a wall. You hear footsteps right behind the wall, and your breathing hitches.

You jump out and you see a person. You take your staff and flip it around before you knock the person off of… His feet.

Before he can get up you jump next to him and quickly place the staff on his chest, restricting his movement.

“Who are- What is that?” You ask pointing to the blue box.

“That is the TARDIS.” The male says.

“What the hell is a TARDIS? Who are you?!” You yell, not loosing your grip on the staff.


“I’m the Doctor.” He smirks. “Can you take that off of me?” He asks gesturing to the staff. You slowly take the staff off of his chest.

“What are you doing in my house?”


“I’m looking for Y/N.” He says taking a step forward.

“Why? S-she’s not here right now.” You say lying. Then his hand reaches to the wall and flicks the light on.


“Y/N? Is that you?” He says walking towards you.


“How do you know me? How do you know my name?” You ask backing away.

“Because I’m your bond. I’m a time lord.” He says reaching out to grab you. You quickly grab the nearest thing; A rubix cube. Before he realizes what you are doing, you throw it at him. It hits his forehead and he falls back.

“I hate those things.” He manages to spit out before he goes unconscious.

***

When he was still unconscious you tied him to the bed post. His head flys up and his eyes open.

“Who tied me up? You tied me up. Why did you tie me up?”

“Who are you actually? I don’t know what a Time Lord is, or what a TARDIS is. It’s all just shit.”


“No it’s not.” He whines. Then you hear something. Something is calling your name.

“W-what is that? That thing calling my name?” You demand, but he doesn’t answer. “Answer me! I am very confused, scared and frustrated right now! Why are you even here?” You start to break down, crying. The Doctor looks down.


“That thing calling your name is a Fob watch. You’re a Time Lady.You need to open it.”


“Where is-” He cuts you off.


“My front pocket.” He says gesturing to his pants. You hesitate before you reach your hand in his front pocket.


“Oh. I’ve always loved it when you touched me there.” He smiles. You tilt your head in confusion. You quickly pull out the watch.


“Is this mine?” You ask.


“Yes.” He answers back.


“Then why don’t I have it?”


“Because you would have lost it. I am a mad man but I’m not stupid.” You look at the watch. Not thinking much off it. You just simply open it.

You scream in pain as your cells rewrite.

***

“Y/N?” The Doctor says looking up at you.

“Doctor.” You say back. You untie him from the bed post and he stares at you the whole time. He stands up, not taking his eyes off of you.

“I missed you.” He sighs.


“Oh, was my Doctor lonely?” You tease.

“Oh yes.” He says smirking. You step forward towards him, inches apart.

“You could’ve come-” He cuts you off with a kiss. He places his warm lips on your chapped ones. He gently grabs your face with his hands, as your hands trail up to his hair.

You smile into the kiss. “You really did miss me.”

“Oh yes I did.”

Popdroid Poplist 2017 #03

click the titles to discover…

01 Juniore: Panique
02 Blanche: City Lights
03 Pumarosa: Dragonfly
04 Amy Shark: Weekends
05 Lana Del Rey: Love
06 Calypso Valois: Le jour
07 Marble Sounds: Ten Seconds to Count Down
08 Alexia Gredy: Paradis
09 School Is Cool: Trophy Wall
10 Soulwax: Missing Wires

11 Juliette Armanet: L'amour en solitaire
12 STUFF.: Strata
13 Julie Byrne: Natural Blue
14 Fleet Foxes: Third of May / Odaigahara
15 Paradis: Toi et moi
16 Lorde: Green Light
17 Juniore: Difficile
18 La Féline: Senga
19 Feist: Pleasure
20 Eugénie: Puis danse

21 Dope Lemon: Home Soon
22 Fishbach: Un autre que moi
23 The Lemon Twigs: I Wanna Prove to You
24 Father John Misty: Ballad of the Dying Man
25 London Grammar: Big Picture
26 NAO: In the Morning
27 Black Mirrors: Funky Queen
28 Frànçois & The Atlas Mountains: Tendre est l'âme
29 Blondino: Bleu
30 alt-J: 3WW

31 Depeche Mode: Where’s the Revolution
32 Sylvan Esso: Die Young
33 Ella Vos: White Noise
34 Holy Brune: Nuit noire
35 Stefan Dixon & Klaas Delrue: Vir Nou, Voor Nu
36 Peter Peter: Loving Game
37 Laura Marling: Next Time
38 My Baby: Love Dance
39 SHE Major: Please Don’t
40 VUURWERK feat. Khazali: Face It

41 First Aid Kit: You Are the Problem Here
42 Grimes feat. Janelle Monáe: Venus Fly
43 Goldfrapp: Anymore
44 Jain: Makeba
45 Témé Tan: Sè Zwa Zo
46 The Weeknd feat. Daft Punk: I Feel It Coming
47 Hippo Campus: way it goes
48 The Mysterons: Sold My Medicine
49 Superpoze: Azur
50 Few Bits: It Will Set You Free

EXIT
Tamino: Habibi
Sampha: (No One Knows Me) Like the Piano
Pond: Sweep Me Off My Feet
Feu! Chatterton: Porte Z
Temples: Strange or Be Forgotten
Julien Doré: Sublime & Silence
Tennis: Modern Woman
Liv Dawson: Searching
Dua Lipa: Thinking ‘Bout You
John Mayer: Still Feel Like Your Man
Novella: Change of State
Stef Kamil Carlens: The Journey Will Be Long

BUBBLING UNDER
01 Lorde: Liability
02 Warm Digits feat. Field Music: End Times
03 Yasmine Hamdan: La Ba'den
04 Warhola: Jewels
05 Waar is Ken?: Hemelwater
06 Ibibio Sound Machine: Give Me a Reason
07 Laure Briard: Les pins des Landes
08 Brutus: Drive
09 The Staves: Tired as ****
10 Grandaddy: Evermore
11 Lucy Rose feat. The Staves: Floral Dresses
12 Clare Louise: La vase
13 Michael Kiwanuka: Cold Little Heart (Tom Misch Remix)
14 Methyl Ethel: L'heure des sorcières
15 Yelle: Ici et maintenant
16 Roméo Elvis x Le Motel: Drôle de question
17 Matt Watts: Joanne
18 Glints: Makeshift Idol
19 TaxiWars: Fever
20 Tei Shi: How Far

New Jersey gothic

all your school talks about is football. they claim you are the best. trophies line the walls. however, you’ve never seen your team win a single game. how are the trophies getting there. you swear that one wasn’t there a second ago.

it is junior year, and you are preparing for colleges. you go to visit different websites to apply. however, every website is the same. they are all for Rutgers. you begin to wonder if Rutgers is the only college. you know it is not, because your friend from New York goes to another college. but you can’t remember what
it’s called. you can’t remember anything but Rutgers.

people ask what your doing for the summer. you tell them you’re going to be at the shore, at your shore house. they agree and ask about what beach your going to, but you’ve never heard of a ‘beach’. you begin to wonder what people do at these strange 'beaches’, and you wonder if they are safe. or maybe it’s you that isn’t safe?

every five minutes, you pass a diner. somehow, the waitresses all know you when you go in. the menu is full, but the only things on it are burgers, grilled cheese, and pancakes. though you’ve driven for an hour, you are almost positive that you’ve gone in the same diner every time.

everyone knows their exits. some have I-80, or even I-87. everyone knows the routes they take, but no one calls it a 'route’. it is simply 22. of course, there’s the garden state parkway. you know they all go somewhere. but you don’t know where. you know there are exits. but how did you enter in the first place?

6

Backbones big and small. As we make way for the temporary storage of our taxidermy, we’ve had to move some very big bones, like this whale vertebra. The whale vertebra was previously painted, which you can see in the close up of its surface. The enormous bone is over 1m wide and tall and it isn’t light either. For comparison look at the tiny vertebra of a shrew, which we can only show you thanks to a microscope!

drabble: memories

Hunter AU/Hunter Bill, fawn!Deerper, platonic Billdip (Soft Spot continuity; there’s a plot reason why part of Bill’s memories are closed off, but that’s for later). Gift drabble for angel-fieramente-humano, who is a lovely cinnamon roll and an awesome friend. ^_^

The song Bill plays is here


There were a lot of things in the lodge that Bill didn’t recognize save for dim flashes of memories chipped and frayed along the edges. The stack of books in the basement with broken spines indicating that they’d been read to the point of near destruction - where had those come from? Most of the trophies on the wall were his efforts, but those that weren’t - when had they occurred, and how could he have possibly forgotten? The contrast between the things he knew about himself and the things he didn’t was a constant source of frustration, as well as one of the few things that could make him lose his temper with Dipper on the spot. 

He wasn’t particularly pleased when the kid returned from rummaging around in the attic with an old, slightly weathered guitar in tow, clearly excited by his discovery. 

The fawn trotted over to where he sat at a worktable with a pile of leather straps, poring over them with a furrowed brow. The kid had been bitching about his collar for awhile, and while Bill refused to let him ditch the accessory he wasn’t opposed to redesigning it. Perhaps something that resembled jewelry a little more? He didn’t notice the guitar until Dipper laid the instrument on the table in front of him. Damn it.

“What’s with the guitar?” The fawn asked. “Do you actually know how to play it?”

Bill glared at the object as if it were insulting him with its presence, and in a way it was. He dimly remembered giving it a try at some point, fingertips automatically finding the right places to make the guitar speak when he allowed his mind to wander; actually concentrating resulted in clumsy fumbling and sounds that were considerably less than pleasing to the ear. “Some. I don’t remember where I got it.”

Dipper’s ears pricked up. “Wait, you can play the guitar? That’s awesome.”

Bill shrugged. 

“Why’d you leave it up in the attic?”

Bill shrugged again; his eyebrow was beginning to twitch. 

“Did you just teach yourself, or-”

“Kid, I don’t know.” The hunter snapped, slamming a hand against the table top hard enough to make it sting. “I don’t fucking remember where half of the shit in this place came from, so stop asking, alright?”

Dipper let out a nervous bleat, taking a step back; it was then, looking into the fawn’s terrified eyes, that Bill realized what was happening - his own eye was gleaming bright gold again, as it did when he let his anger get the best of him. 

“I’m sorry,” the fawn whispered, then turned tail and ran from the room. 

The hunter watched him go with the guilt erupting in his chest once more, then settled back into his seat with a heavy sigh. 

Maybe he really did need anger management classes. 

…hell no. There was no way that could end in anything other than murder.

But he did need to learn to control himself around his fawn. 

After a few minutes of staring disconsolately at the leather scraps, Bill gave up on working for the moment, standing up and reaching for the guitar. The instrument’s varnish had worn thin over the…years? Was it years? The wood felt strangely warm against his fingers, and snatches of melodies slipped into his head unbidden. Whereas the memories usually plagued him and sent him into another rage, this time he took a deep breath, made a ballpark attempt to swallow it, and went to find Dipper.



The fawn was out on the porch, huddled against one of the wooden beams. The sun was departing, painting the sky in soft golden and rose blush watercolors in its wake. Dipper glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the hunter approaching him, then looked away. 

Bill sat down next to him, leaning against the opposite beam and leaving a couple of feet of space between them. Neither said anything for a few minutes until Bill spoke up. “Sorry for yelling at you, kid.”

Dipper peeked over at him. “It’s okay.”

The tension remained, however, and Bill looked down at the guitar in his hands. There really wasn’t a way of getting around it, was there? “You really want to hear me play this thing?”

The fawn shrugged, mimicking his actions from earlier.

Bill sighed again. “Alright, but if you laugh, I’m drowning you in the lake.”

Dipper actually smiled at that; it was a long-standing threat that it was clear the hunter wouldn’t follow through on. “I know.”

Bill propped the guitar up in his lap, awkwardly holding on to it until his hands recalled where they needed to be. Don’t think

Instead of thinking about his lost memories or the strings beneath his fingertips, he forced himself to think about what he did remember. Listening to the fawn’s voice poring over journal entries and rambling over possibilities while he worked; coming home to find the lodge filled with the aroma of whatever was for dinner; watching Dipper give in to the side of him that was all deer yet again and jumping in puddles or piles of leaves before realizing what he was doing. Warmth, instead of anger or loss.

He didn’t realize he was playing, a song that may have been something created on the spot, happiness flowing from his fingers and weaving a melody upon the strings like a those of a loom. He did notice when something equally warm brushed against his side - Dipper had closed the distance between them and now laid against his side, humming along with his eyes shut in contentment.

The hunter grinned, allowing his eye to close as well; his fingers continued to dance upon the strings until the moon rose overhead and stars peppered the velvet sky.

And Then There Was One

Syndisparklez Angst Fic

1,5+k words

Warnings: Death, Old Age

Takes place after the Mianite storyline

Their armor lay discarded, and their weapons hung on the walls like trophies. Their adventures across the realm and beyond were over, and only one adventure remained. What comes next?

Keep reading

The Minutia Age of Storytelling

When I was a kid, I was a huge fan of Aliens and Predator. I followed every scrap of info I could get on the production of films like those. It was my wheelhouse. So imagine my delight and surprise when in a few tiny frames of Predator 2, the skull of a xenomorph could be clearly seen on a Predator’s trophy wall.

The fandom went nuts. The fanzines exploded. All anyone could talk about was the speculation about what it meant, what it could mean. Of course, in reality it didn’t mean anything; the producers on Predator 2 thought it would be a fun little easter egg so they slipped it into the film. But as the fans talked, the buzz grew. Eventually Dark Horse Comics indulged the fervor with the Aliens Vs. Predator comics, which grew into the films that followed.

But this was just at the cusp of the internet age, before fans could take apart every sequence of a film with relative ease. If you wanted to go frame-by-frame, you either needed a high-end VCR or a lot of patience. Fans have always loved details, but being able to explore them was a luxury before the advent of abundant video options for computers.

Now that it’s here, fans routinely pick apart their favorite films and shows, combing for the slightest hint of deeper meaning. But the best part is now that such behavior is commonplace, creators are not only aware of it, they embrace it and play to it.

Look at The Force Awakens for an example. Rey has a crude doll of an X-Wing pilot, barely five seconds on screen. Finn finds Luke’s lightsaber training remote on the Falcon; blink and you’d miss it. And then there’s Rey’s vision sequence, which is so layered, complex and brief that it outright begs for dissection.

Creators are aware fans are capable of thorough examination of their work in a way that wasn’t possible before this century. As it became commonplace, it changed how they structure their work, how it’s observed, and what it means. It’s a deeper level of interactivity that was out of reach without a considerable onus on the audience.

This fascinates me. It’s not a sea change in how stories are told, but it’s a change none the less. The wealth of tools we have for deeper scrutiny of the visual medium means how a story is presented has adapted to embrace that scrutiny.  It means a tiny evolution in filmmaking, a mutation that might result in a whole new species, or could potentially die off in a generation.

I really dig that.