#I’ve seen people try to emulate this look a hundred thousand times

[selfishpresley]

Pale pink button down. Eggplant tie. Linen warm grey suit. I’m afraid that he was too fashionable for his time.

[rissynicole]

DTIYS Contest Prize: Rllyaangrlly

Here is the first of the one-shots promised to the three winners of the DTIYS event I put on recently. (Thank you guys for being patient with me, btw. I’m a very slow writer, and you’re seeing it in action). Just as the title states, this one is for @rllyaangrlly, based on her requests. 

This was a ton of fun and gave me an opportunity to not only shake some writing rust, but work with topics I don’t normally explore. More than anything, I was able to try to emulate the vibes Brit gives these characters in her own art/writing. I wish I had a better word for it, but I’ve always felt like Brit has a certain “aesthetic” with the IZ characters through her drawing style, the situations she puts them in, and her overall portrayal of their personalities. I’ve always adored it, and it was an honor to be able to try my hand at writing it. 

Story is under the cut.

Characters: Dib, Zim, Gaz

Relationships: ZaGr, ZaDf

Warnings: minor injuries

Words: 3,706

Absurdity

The car’s engine and the drone of its wheels on the highway were the only sounds that passed between the three. The radio hadn’t been turned on, and no one had the gall nor the desire to change that. Not Zim, who was turned almost completely towards the window in the passenger seat, nor Gaz in the backseat. They drove along in heavy silence as Dib stared stonily ahead of him at the stretch of road, hands gripping the wheel numbly.

Dating. They’re… dating.

The idea was positively absurd to him. Not only did it feel weirdly out of the realm of possibility, but it felt wrong, somehow. Like some sort of tasteless prank. When Zim had told him, he’d half expected the camera crew from Punk’d to come parading around the corner, led by Ashton Kutcher, to point and laugh at the look on Dib’s face. “Can you believe it?! Your best friend—alien best friend—and your little sister! You totally fell for it!”

That almost would have been better. Cruel and mortifying, maybe, but better. At least then, he wouldn’t be sitting behind the wheel of the car trying to make sense of it while the two pretended not to notice from inches away. But it wasn’t a prank. Hell, Dib wasn’t famous enough to be on Punk’d anyway. Maybe someday… but not today.

A little part of him had high hopes for the series of paranormal investigation videos he and Zim had strung together. Lately, that little part of him had stopped feeling so childish, too. Their following had risen significantly over the last few months, gaining more and more traction as people tuned in. Suddenly, their modest little support net of viewers was in the hundreds. Then the thousands. Then the hundred-thousands. Truth be told, Zim and Dib hadn’t really come across anything of substance in their investigations, but their newer viewers weren’t exactly around for solid proof of the paranormal, anyway. It hadn’t taken long for the two to realize that most of the channel’s appeal came from the dripping sarcasm and witty banter directed at one another.

“Chemistry” was an apt word, and it got thrown around a lot. Zim and Dib, quite by accident, had become the up-and-coming best friend duo in the paranormal community. And with each new investigation, they garnered more and more recognition.

That’s where they were headed now, towards Ottawa National Forest to investigate the latest hot spot Dib’s research had led him to. The “Paulding Light” was a strange phenomenon, appearing in a single spot in the woods and taking form of a bright glow before fading off into the darkness of the night. Though plenty of locals could attest to having seen it, no one could feasibly explain it. Dib was determined to catch it on camera. Or at least he had been, before Zim had dropped the bomb on him right before leaving the house.

Dating. They’re… dating.

His thoughts rounded back, and he felt his hands readjust themselves on the steering wheel. Behind him, Gaz sighed quietly and cross her legs. He almost swore he could sense her and Zim exchange a glance through the rearview mirror, but he really had no way of knowing. He didn’t really want to know.

Dating.

“What’s the exit?” he asked, jarring them all back to reality.

Zim paused before answering. “It’s a couple down. Not this one, but the next.”

They returned to silence. Even as Dib’s blinkers resounded through the car and they exited off the highway. Even as the smooth highway turned to bumpy asphalt, then later, dirt roads.

At last, Zim spoke. “Dib—”

“I’m not mad,” he interrupted. “I’m just…I don’t know what I am. I need to process this. Just…” He trailed off, his mouth a thin line.

Zim and Gaz glanced at each other through the rearview again.

Eventually, they pulled into a dirt lot and spilled out of the little hatchback, glad for a break in the tension that had been all-consuming throughout the entire car ride. Gaz leaned back, popping her joints before heading to the trunk of the car where the camping supplies and camera equipment was. Zim took over, gathering it up and taking inventory of what they had brought along.

Just as before, everything was done without a word. No one really knew what to say. Gaz and Zim were giving Dib his space, and the latter still seemed to be at a loss. Driving hadn’t really cleared his head as he’d lamely claimed it would; it’d just made him more flustered.

Before long, they were off. The hike through the woods was only marginally less uncomfortable than the car ride had been, but the open air helped. Dib led the way, walking along the dimming trail as dusk settled in. The plan was to find a place to set up camp near the area where the Paulding Light supposedly made its appearance. Then, they’d hike again—this time under the cover of darkness—with the cameras rolling.

As the daylight slowly dissipated and the cool air settled in, Gaz paused to unhook her backpack from around her shoulders. Her jacket was inside, probably balled up beneath all the other crap she’d packed for this little excursion. Before she could even get her bag unzipped, though, Zim handed her his own sweatshirt.

She glanced up, and a wordless argument passed between them.

Now you’re going to be cold, her glare told him.

He gave her a challenging, almost haughty glance in return. Just put it on. I’m fine.

Gaz huffed a little and rolled her eyes, but ultimately acquiesced. She bunched it up and pulled it over her head. It was an overlarge navy hoodie with their college name and emblem branded on the front in bright, almost obnoxious yellow font. Zim had been wearing it almost religiously since October had arrived and the first freeze of the year had swept through their neighborhood.

When her face appeared at the neckline, she made brief accidental eye contact with Dib. He averted his eyes quickly. His mouth was still in that tight, thin line.

They continued on, walking until they’d found a suitable place to set up camp. Just as agonizingly silent as before, they set to tidying up the area, pulling out their sleeping bags, and taking inventory of the food they’d brought.

At this, Zim reached into one of the backpacks, eyes lighting up at a bag of jumbo marshmallows. Gaz slapped it away, all pretenses forgotten for a second. “Knock it off. We still have to film,” she said.

He snagged one anyway, popping it in his mouth defiantly before chuckling at her wavering attempt at a serious expression. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Gaz finally dropped it and began laughing along with him.

Dib cleared his throat.

They both turned and looked at him, smiles dropping instantly.

“Let’s get going,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking up at the smattering of stars up ahead. “You have the camera, Gaz?”

She nodded and held it up.

Dib did his best to not look behind him at Gaz and Zim as they walked on. Suddenly, any playful or even amicable interaction between them had taken on a whole new meaning. Because it wasn’tjust amicable.

Dating. They’re… dating.

It made him feel like the last few months had been a lie. It wasn’t just him, his sister, and his best friend anymore. It was him, his sister, and his sister’s boyfriend.

He visibly shuddered as he stepped over a fallen tree branch. Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that.

About a mile in, they began to hear running water. Sure enough, only about five minutes later they came upon a fallen tree that spanned about the width of the trail. Some quick observation showed that it was acting as a sort of bridge over a shallow stream about five or six feet below.

“I guess this is sturdy enough,” Dib muttered, testing the strength of the log. He peered over the edge at the water. At this point, night had fallen proper. A small slice of moon illuminated the sky, casting down on the stream. Dark water glinted here and there as it passed over rocks.

He began to walk over it, arms held out for balance. He hadn’t said much at all, despite Gaz currently filming. She held the camera up anyway, sighing inwardly.

What a waste this trip was. Who the hell would want to watch a video of Dib moodily wandering through the woods all night?

As for Zim, he had hardly uttered a word, either. And he was usually the comic relief of their little program. The fact that Zim was quiet wasn’t just bizarre; it was unsettling.

Zim stepped up on the log, followed by Gaz, who was still holding the camera out in front of herself. The disproportionate weight made her lose her balance for a moment, which was then exacerbated when the entire log rocked along with her. On instinct, Zim reached out and caught her by the wrist.

Dib turned, still halfway across their little bridge over the stream. He glanced at the two blankly. Then, his eyes narrowed. Even in the darkness, the intensity of his glare met Zim’s eyes.

“Would it kill you to not fondle my sister in the middle of the night while we’re trying to film?” Dib muttered.

“What are you talking about, Earth-stink?” It was clear Zim’s already-thin patience was running dry. These days, nearly a decade after arriving on earth, he only pulled out the immature nicknames when he on the verge of arguing.

Dib simply gesticulated at Zim’s hand, still grasping Gaz’s wrist. Zim looked at him incredulously and then let go of her.

“Dib…” Gaz growled, “You’re acting like an asshole.”

I’m acting like an asshole?!” he said, the hours of tension suddenly bubbling to the surface. “You’re the one who decided to… to…” He was at a loss for words.

Gaz darkened nonetheless, eyes glinting. “I didn’t ‘decide’ to do anything! And if I knew you were just going to sulk the whole time, I would have stayed the fuck home! Do I even have to remind you that I do this shit as a favor to you?” She waved the camera in front of her, and Dib paled at both her words and the prospect of it slipping from her grip and into the stream several feet below them. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn’t even want to go camping right after my midterms?”

“A favor for me, sure!” Dib shot back. Maybe some people could be perfectly silent for hours on end and be perfectly calm. His temper had never allowed for that. He was speaking without thinking, and he could feel it. It still didn’t stop the word-vomit from coming. “You sure it’s a favor for me and not a favor for your little boyfriend over there?”

He gestured vaguely towards the “boyfriend” in question, who’s face was beginning to match Gaz’s. Before Zim could open his mouth, though, Gaz lunged forward, right into Dib’s face. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the fuck up right now!”

The fallen tree they were balanced on began to rock a little, and Zim’s eyes went wide as he clambered to keep his footing. “Gaz—”

“Stay out of it, Zim!”

“I will not!” he shot back. “Not when you’re both acting like complete—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. The log rocked again, and this time, Gaz’s balance didn’t withstand. The little hand-held camcorder slipped from her grasp, and she instinctively lurched towards it with her hands outstretched. Zim, operating on the same instinct, tried to catch her again. His foot slipped out from under him along with a crumbling of tree bark that had split off the log

“W-woah!” Dib shouted. His eyes bulged from behind his glasses. He reached for both of them, catching the sleeve of Gaz’s hoodie and Zim’s arm to try to keep them from falling over the side. He only succeeded in making the sorry excuse for a bridge rock yet again. At that point, it seemed, the log decided it was no longer interested in keeping three fully grown adults upright and out of the water. It rocked, crumbled, and then slipped from where it had been wedged between the two ends of the hiking trail.

Dib, Zim, and Gaz went tumbling off. High, clipped shouts preceding their fall, then a series of splashing.

The water below was cold, but not terribly so. It was a shallow, slow-moving stream. Almost more of an inconvenience than anything. Even so, the drop was high enough that Dib landed on the balls of his feet, skidded out, and skinned both elbows as he fell clumsily onto his rump.

He groaned, cupping one scraped elbow in his palm. Already beginning to internally bemoan his soaking-wet clothes, he turned to Gaz. His anger was beginning to return to him in place of shock.

“Great. That’s a new camera down the fucking drain.”

Instead of an onslaught of choice words back at him, however, Gaz didn’t respond. She wasn’t even looking in his direction. Instead, she was turned away, hunched over something in the darkness. It took him a moment to realize what she was doing. At her feet, Zim’s body was lying halfway in the stream, completely motionless.

Gaz whipped around to look at Dib, soggy tendrils of hair stuck to her cheeks. She no longer looked angry. “I think he hit his head. Help me get him out of here!”

Dib’s eyes widened, and without thinking, he hurried around Gaz’s other side, grabbing Zim’s shoulder and hauling him to the grassy bank a few feet away. “Is he okay?” he shouted.

“I don’t know. Move!” She dropped to her knees in front of him. His wig sat like a sodden mop on his head, and she pulled it off before it could burn his scalp any more than it had. The worry she so evidently felt was plastered all over her face. Even in the darkness, Dib could see it. He was worried, too, but it was strange to see it so plainly on Gaz of all people. She had always been the more level-headed of the two, and seeing her normally morose, carefully composed poker-face fall away so quickly made Dib feel like he’d entered some alternate dimension.

Seconds later, Zim came around. With a moan, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal one contact and one overbright pink eye.

Gaz didn’t fuss or wring her hands, but she sighed noticeably in relief, then began asking him questions. (What is your name? Where are you right now?)

Zim answered in turn, seemingly fine. His hand wrapped around to the back of his head to absently massage at a growing bump, though. He groaned again and sat up.

“You need to get out of those clothes,” Dib said. He could hear a distant sizzling—the awful sound of water against Zim’s skin. Even in their days of mortal rivalry, that sound had always had a visceral effect that could pierce through any bluster and leave Dib cringing inwardly.

Gaz nodded her head in agreement. “Come on,” she said. She rose to her feet, then helped Zim up.

“I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened on this filthy planet,” he muttered. The fire that had been in his voice just moments before had been snuffed out. He tugged at his soggy clothing and scratched at the rashes that were beginning to form on his arms and torso.

Before Dib had time to realize what was happening, they were walking ahead of him back to their camp. Gaz was leading the way this time. Zim managed to keep up, wincing in pain occasionally.

When they got back, Gaz beelined to Zim’s bags. While he ducked behind some brush and changed into new clothes, she pulled out a small first aid kit with the Irken insignia printed on the outside.

“He’ll need the—” Dib started. He stopped when he saw Gaz pull out the exact tube of antibiotic cream he had been about to gesture towards. She glanced at the Irken characters—Irken characters Dib hadn’t known she could read—and opened it.

“Can you hand me the bandages from your bag?” she asked.

Dib shot her a weird look but reached for the bandages anyway. “You know, his PAK heals him pretty quickly. I don’t think he even really needs them.”

“Yeah, but bandaging it up makes him whine about it less,” she said. She tried to hide the smile that had begun to form on her lips.

Dib handed it over and began to build a fire for the three of them.

Zim returned then, dressed in clean, dry clothes. While Gaz helped treat and bandage the worst of the burns, Dib kept silent. This time, however, it wasn’t out of whatever conglomerate of frustration he’d been feeling earlier. He was watching his sister coyly.

Gaz was not the maternal type. Throughout their entire lives, Gaz’s words and actions had been laced in a gruff sort of outer layer that warned others she was not to be trifled with. She kept her circle small and very rarely expressed any emotion other than cool apathy or outright anger.

The way she was acting towards Zim was a far cry from her normal self. Dib had only ever seen her like this on a handful of other occasions. When those memories drifted to him and he realized the common denominator, he suddenly felt uneasy. The tenderness in which she wrapped Zim’s forearm was with the same silent, admonishing tenderness she’d shown Dib when he’d gotten injured during his own idiotic exploits over the years.

Meanwhile, Zim sat slumped against a tree, letting her bandage him up without a fuss. While he was making an attempt at nonchalance, it was clear he was practically falling asleep where was sitting.

That was another little thing Gaz seemed to either know already or manage to take in stride: something about injuries made Zim unusually tired afterwards. For as long as Dib had known him, he’d been this way. Dib had deducted it was because his PAK was using more energy than usual, and Zim had more or less confirmed it. Even so, it was rather unsettling to see anyone sustain an injury and then drop off to sleep moments later like a narcoleptic.

That’s precisely what Zim was doing now, now. As soon as Gaz finished with the last bandage, she shook his shoulder to wake him. With the last of his energy, he shuffled to his sleeping bag and practically faceplanted onto it. Within seconds, he had dropped off to sleep.

Gaz patted his hand.

Dating, Dib thought yet again.

It was absurd. That was the only way he could put it. It didn’t make any sense. Almost…almost as absurd as the idea of him being friends with Zim in the first place.

He frowned and began to pull at the loose strings of a bracelet he’d worn on his wrist for the last year or so. Zim had an almost identical one that he, too, never removed.

Hadn’t there been a time when he couldn’t imagine himself being anything but Zim’s enemy? And now they were almost inseparable. If he could get used to that, why couldn’t he get used to this?

He glanced down at the bracelet and sighed. “You really care about him, don’t you?” he said finally.

Gaz glanced up, her face guarded. “I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t.”

“And he treats you well?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” She made a face, but it wasn’t entirely hostile. “I wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”

Dib’s eyes fell on Zim, who was snoring lightly. He didn’t doubt that. “Okay,” he said through another exhale.

“‘Okay,’ what?” Gaz said, raising a brow. “I don’t need your ‘blessing,’ Dib. I just want—”

“—No, no, no. I don’t mean it that way,” Dib said quickly, “I mean ‘okay,’ I will get used to this. And I’ll stop being such an asshole.” He quirked his lip upward in a humorless smile at the last part. “I’m sorry, Gaz. I could have handled that a lot better, and I didn’t.”

She pulled her knees to her chest and stared into the crackling fire. “Apology accepted.”

Zim began to stir then, one hand reaching out to scratch at his bandages.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Gaz said softly, taking the hand and moving it away. She made to rifle through their bags but was stopped when Zim’s hand closed around hers. He held her in place and began to murmur incoherently.

Gaz smiled; a sweet, serene smile Dib very rarely saw. “Just give me a minute,” she told Zim. She squeezed his hand and pulled away, unzipping the bag closest to her and retrieving what she was looking for—the marshmallows Zim had been after earlier.

She pressed one into his palm, and his fingers wrapped around it groggily.

Over the next hour, he slowly came out of whatever fog his PAK had put him through as it worked to heal him. By morning, the irritated rashes from the water would be gone and the bump on his head would be nothing but a distant memory.

Not for the first time, Dib thought about how strange Irkens were.

Over the rest of the night, the three gathered around the fire, roasting marshmallows. Even through the lulls in conversation, the tension that had practically been a permanent fixture earlier was gone. Instead, they slipped into their new dynamic. A dynamic that was, as Dib had claimed, absurd. But when hadn’t it been? Not when Zim had first arrived on Earth. Not when years and events had passed them by, and enmity had melded to friendship. And not now.

Absurdity was their specialty, and they were learning to wear it proudly.

~The End~

[itscalledbisexualcrisis]

Scrap Metal - Chapter 5

Summary: 

Hiro broke off her engagement to Kuvira three years ago and left Zaofu. All she wants is to live her quiet life in Republic City, away from her haunting past. Kuvira's catching up to her, but is she going to find what she's looking for? Or is she only going to reveal the secrets Hiro kept hidden from her all these years?

AO3 Story Here

“Now down here in this car are living quarters, you’ll be assigned to a pod today. You’ll be provided basic necessities as well as extra uniforms. There aren’t many of us on the maglev train, but we do use it as our main headquarters. Everything is coed here, I hope you don’t mind.”

Kuvira walked promptly down the hallway going from train car to traincar, pointing out various things to Hiro. She was impressed that such a large metal object could move throughout the Earth Kingdom at high speeds by only using magnets and metalbending to propel it. Upon learning that Baatar Jr. was the one that designed it, she wasn’t all that surprised. She recognized some of the features were emulated from Zaofu technology.

She couldn’t linger in her admiration though. She felt like it was her death march as she followed closely behind Kuvira. Things were being shown to her, but she could only half listen. Anxiety swam through her veins and her thoughts kept racing around. What did Kuvira want with her? For the past few days since the fall of Zaofu, Hiro had been kept in the dark. Literally and figuratively.

While Kuvira was spearheading the conquest of Zaofu, and the official reunification of the Earth Kingdom, Hiro was locked away. She thought maybe she would find Baatar Sr. or Huan, but to her dismay, she was put in a singular prison in Zaofu. She supposed it could be worse; they coud’ve sent her to one of the many camps. She shivered at the thought.

Her new Earth Empire uniform was tight and itchy in all the odd places. She tried multiple times to loosen the collar up, but it was no use. The boots they provided were clunky, but she could feel that they were made of a strong metal under her feet. The whole uniform was. Although not a skilled metal bender, even she could feel how much power emulated when she put it on. It made her feel powerful. She wondered what Kuvira’s uniform felt like then or if Baatar had invented this, too. 

“And finally here is your work station.”

Hiro raised a suspicious eyebrow. They were in the final train car of the maglev. It looked like a brand new train car attached to the older looking one they previously stepped out from. There were two levels so spectators could watch on to the lower level from the deck. Couches were strewn with tables on the upper level. Along the walls of the lower level were individual lab tables and the center had one large metal table. Hiro was curious at how empty it all looked. More specifically, untouched.

There’s no way they built all of this just for me.

Kuvira noticed her silence and cleared her throat.

“This is a brand new train car, yes. We had to replace the old one after an...incident. Follow me, there’s something I want to show you.”

Hiro quietly made her way down to the lower level. On the wall underneath the stairs was a full size map of Republic City and the United Republic.

“I know you’ve worked closely with Asami Sato and Republic City on the latest infrastructure remodel,” Kuvira started. “I want you to copy down everything you can remember from that; the technology, any underground roads, hidden passageways. Keep in mind, these will primarily be used by Baatar, so no need to be worried about the reader having engineering experience. Any piece of information about weapons and means of defense will be especially useful.”

“Why?” Hiro finally broke her silence and swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked around the table. It’s the first word she spoke to Kuvira since she picked her up from the prison this morning. A stack of workbooks stood prim and proper, ready to be used on the center table. The map before her loomed eerily as Kuvira sood in front of it with her back turned to Hiro. There were four guards placed around the room, something she thought was excessive. “The United Republic is part of the original Earth Kingdom. Therefore another piece of the empire that I need to rebuild and take back for our people.” Hiro didn’t like how Kuvira used the word ‘our’. “To be very transparent with you, the Earth Empire is seeking to reunite the full original kingdom.”

Hiro scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Believe me, Republic City doesn’t need to be rebuilt or updated, I’ve already done that.” She knows that may have sounded smug, but it was the truth. “Plus, the United Republic hasn’t been part of the Earth Kingdom in decades. Avatar Aang created it as a neutral territory after the Hundred Year War.” “Avatar Aang failed to return what was lost during the Hundred Year War. That doesn’t change its historical significance to the Earth Empire,” Kuvira said. Her emphasis on the word ‘Empire’ lingered and Hiro could hear the warning in Kuvira’s words. Hiro paused, but took a cautionary step forward to stand next to Kuvira. There was a generous gap between them as Hiro studied the map up close. Her eyes darted around the map of the United Republic, slowly piecing the puzzle together in her mind.

“It’s oar supply is significant, you mean.” Kuvira let out a short laugh before letting her face fall into a cocky smirk. Everyone knew the United Republic had an abundance of natural oar supply, which was a valuable and high-priced commodity across all the nations.

“An added bonus to our cause.”

“This is crazy,” Hiro muttered.

Kuvira clenched her fists at her sides.

“Everyone leave us,” she commanded.

The guards cleared out of the train car and left promptly. Hiro kept her eyes trained on the map before her. She knew there was an oar integral mining plant just outside of Republic City. It was something her and Asami had to keep in mind when making renovations. If Kuvira had control over that one mine, she could power the Earth Empire for months from that singular facility alone. With control of all the mines across the United Republic, the Earth Empire would no doubt become the richest nation.

“I will not take any insubordination from anyone, especially in front of my soldiers and definitely not from you,” Kuvira scolded.

“You can’t be serious about this. You’d be setting off a meaningless war with an independent nation. You’d be hurting thousands of people,” Hiro countered, letting the weight of the situation set in.

“You’re not here to tell me what to do. You’re here to serve your country and take back what is rightfully ours.” She spoke carefully and with a clipped tongue. Her patience was running short, but Hiro didn’t care. This is actually insane.

“What, Zaofu wasn’t enough for you?”

Kuvira doesn’t respond, just gives a vocal exhale through her nose.

“You do not want to play this little game with me. I don’t need to remind you that I have Suyin.” The threat didn’t go past Hiro. She finally tore her eyes from the map and towards the floor. Kuvira knew she couldn’t argue against that. At the end, she knew she couldn’t risk anything happening to Suyin.

“Fine.” She turned around and sat down at the central table, opening up a workbook.

“Glad to hear.” Hiro heard Kuvira walk around the table and behind her. The looming presence made her freeze ever so slightly. “Oh and Hiro? If you try anything suspicious, remember my office is only a train car over. So don’t think you can try to pull anything.”

---

Hiro rounded a corner of the Beifong estate. Nothing seemed to be going right this morning. She was already running late to her meeting with Suyin after spending all night trying to perfect her work for today’s presentation. In her flurry of trying to remember which direction was the meeting room, she didn’t notice the stack tipping a little too far to the right and spilling out of her gasp.

Hiro cursed to herself and bent down, trying to regain some semblance of organization. She bent down to pick them up, not noticing the other person coming up to her.

“Here, let me help you.” Looking up, she was met with the most beautiful green eyes she’s ever seen. She blushes and retracts as the guard continues to collect the papers for her. With her help, she manages to somehow get her stack back in order.

“There you go,” Kuvira says, as she hands over the neatly organized paperwork. Hiro notices how her fingers lingered ever so slightly during the exchange and had to swallow the anxious lump forming in her throat.

Even that simple gesture can send warmth radiating through Hiro.

Who could blame her though? It seemed that everyone around Zaofu knew that the Captain was very charming. In her few weeks of living here, she’s noticed how various other young women and men fawned over the young Captain. Hiro had been too shy up to this point to try to speak to her. Besides she was here to work, not chase after beautiful green eyes.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Kuvira’s smile twitched and she cleared her throat.

“Please, call me Kuvira,” she answered smoothly. Spirits, the rich timbre and bass in her voice was intoxicating. “Are you on your way to Suyin?”

Hiro nodded.

“I can be clumsy, I’m sorry to have bothered you,” she apologized.

“It’s quite alright. I don’t mind helping you anytime, Miss. Zhao,” Kuvira replied. Hiro was surprised she even knew her name. She was still fairly new to Zaofu and kept to herself most times. “I can walk you. I was just on my way to the meeting, myself.”

“I would like that very much, Kuvira.” The name slipped off her tongue was foreign, but she liked the way it curved around her lips. Hiro found herself smiling silly at the feeling and tried to contain the joy that came with saying the name aloud. “And please, call me Hiro.”

---

Hiro itched at her collar with her left hand as her right scribbled down notes in the workbook. Sure she recently worked on the plans for Republic City, and she could probably recite all of the new plans by heart. Spirits, Asami and her basically designed the whole city down to the smallest intersection signage and lamppost placement.

But instead she took her easy time filling out the first set of notes. She spent a lot of time tapping the pages, writing things down only to scribble it out seconds later, and pretending to think for longer than she should’ve or using her fingers to count out numbers. The guards clearly weren’t the wiser about the show she was putting on for them, so they didn’t bother her. Meanwhile, Hiro was thinking of her plan.

These past few days had given her time to think about a plan to take Kuvira down. It was going to be a heavy feat, especially since Kuvira’s new endgame was taking the United Republic. She told Baatar Sr. that she could talk to her somehow, that she could get through to Kuvira. But now it seems hopeless and she was fighting against herself on what to do. All she’s really done is replay their interaction from Zaofu multiple times in her head.

“I didn’t forget”

Those three words made an impact on Hiro, more than she’d like to admit. When she glanced up at Kuvira’s eyes, she thought she saw a shadow of the woman she once knew. Maybe it was Kuvira playing tricks on her, trying to gain her trust somehow. Hiro had tried to keep her guard up during their heated argument, but it was that moment that made her feel something she hadn’t in a long time. The sprinkle of warmth and longing landed in her like a ball of fire. It lit a need within her to know more. And then it was the next words that made her spiral more in her thoughts. 

“I never wanted to hurt you”

Hiro didn’t want to think that Kuvira had cared. She always thought Kuvira had cast aside any feelings for her when she started seeing Baatar Jr. If she truly didn’t want to hurt her, then why do it? It was the question Hiro was so scared to answer, because she never got one. She stopped trying to answer that question long ago. It only triggered her to curl up in tears. Was she not enough? Was their relationship not enough? Was she not useful enough?

Stop.

Her hand had stopped writing and was trembling over the page. Lost in her thoughts she almost forgot her surroundings and suddenly could feel the guards staring at her back. She blinked a few times before completely ripping the page of nonsense and crumpling it up. She started writing on the new page, willing those thoughts to withdraw from her mind. Kuvira managed to bring out the weakest part of Hiro and find the cracks in her heart to chip away at. It was dangerous, and she needed to move forward with caution. She couldn’t let her emotions get in the way again while trying to find Kuvira’s weakness.

As far as she knew, Kuvira’s weaknesses were minimal. Physically was not an option for Hiro; Kuvira could easily overpower her. Hiro could only utilize her own wit to combat someone as calculated and fierce as Kuvira. This would have to be like a game of Pai Sho: slow and steady moves to defeat one’s opponent. Which meant Hiro needed to play strategically for now, and to be brave. With each action she made from now on, it needed to be with purpose.

Hours passed as Hiro continued to mentally psyche herself up, while continuing to fill out a workbook. She was barely halfway done with one book, starting out with mostly descriptions of machinery rather than actual schematics of the framework of the city, when Kuvira returned. Hiro didn’t even realize the train had stopped and that she was starving. From the train window she could tell it was the afternoon now and they were out of the mountains. Probably far from Zaofu at this point, but still somewhere in the Earth Kingdom.

Wordlessly, Kuvira walks up and motions for the workbook which Hiro hands her. Her hands are fatigued and she rubs her tired eyes, then she stretches her arms overhead. Kuvira’s eyes quickly darted across the first couple of pages before turning a beady green eye towards Hiro. 

“You don’t expect me to believe this is all you’ve done all morning?” she scoffed, giving her a once over glance. Hiro tensed. 

“You wanted information about the city, and I’m giving it to you,” Hiro responded. If there was anytime to be brave, it’d be now. She looked up in Kuvira’s eyes, trying to subside the anxiety that’s creeping up in her to look away.

Kuvira turned to the guards and ordered them to give them privacy. When they were left alone, she placed the workbook back on the table in front of her. It was the only thing between them and Kuvira leaned down to put a gloved hand on the metal surface. Hiro didn’t let her eyes move from her and matched Kuvira’s blazing eyes.

“I’m not stupid. Giving me information that even a basic engineer student knows about machines that don’t pertain to system management? You’re playing a dangerous game with me right now.” Hiro’s jaw clenched. She hadn’t expected to be caught so fast.

“I thought Baatar Jr. might need some refresher on the basics.”

Kuvira slams her other fist on the desk, and Hiro resisted flinching. Her eyes were now an enraged shade of green and a scowl danced on her lips.

“I have no patience for your bullshit today,” she growled. Hiro wonders if it was because of her or if something happened earlier to piss her off. Her attitude definitely didn’t help it if that were the case.

Kuvira leaned down threateningly, closing the distance over the desk.

Hiro felt the metal on the shoulders of her uniform suddenly tighten around her neck and her eyes widened realizing Kuvira’s silent threat. The fear sparked in Hiro’s eyes just seemed to rouse Kuvira’s anger. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt her, but she felt the weight of the metal give pressure around her slender neck.

“Well this brings back old memories?” Hiro teased and chuckled lightly to herself at her own joke. Kuvira’s fist clenched and so did the metal, stopping the laughter. Her hands quickly reached up gripping the metal best she could. She tried bending against it, but was easily overpowered, helpless clutching it with both hands. Despite being choked, she could see a light flush creeping up Kuvira’s neck and knew she at least caught the Great Uniter off guard.

“I could easily kill you right now and you want to make jokes?” Kuvira spoke with such confidence that Hiro almost believed her. Almost.

Hiro shrugged as best as she could, the constriction around her throat making it hard to move or speak. Kuvira held on for another second, studying her face carefully, before dropping her hand and releasing her.

Hiro gasped out as she regained airflow. She had still been trying to bend the metal against Kuvira, but with no resistance they flew back and clanged to the ground. Her hand reached up and touched the tender skin around her neck, blooming red with bruises. Kuvira said nothing, simply watching as Hiro took time to catch her breath.

“Well you clearly need me and it seems like it’s something only I can accomplish. Baatar doesn’t know anything about Republic City and neither do the rest of your soldiers since they’re from rural villages,” Hiro explains and coughs. She rubs her neck for some relief as she continues. “Killing me isn’t a risk you’re willing to take right now if you want a clean victory for your empire.”

Kuvira’s eyebrow quirked in irritation. She pulls away and stands straight.

“No, but Suyin is still my prisoner. Need I remind you that I won’t be afraid to hurt her if you disobey me?” Hiro bit the inside of her cheek. Of course. The one thing Hiro can’t control or have any leverage over. “So what’s it going to be?”

Hiro stares down at her work and glances back up at Kuvira one more time before turning to the map of Republic City. She takes a marker and starts drawing lines across it.

“I guess something useful would be the underground passageways running all throughout Republic City. They’re part of an old sewage system. We created a new one, but the old one is still in place and out of use,” Hiro mutters and clears her throat. If her neck didn’t have a rash before, it certainly was irritated now. “My honest apologies, I haven’t exactly done this kind of work in a while. I mostly do Sato Mobiles nowadays.”

There’s a brief pause and the only sound in the room is coming from Hiro’s scribbling.

“You worked on Sato Mobiles?” Kuvira questioned, clearly doubting Hiro’s statement.

“Surprised?”

“You didn’t even have a license three years ago.”

Hiro smiled slightly at seeing Kuvira’s surprised reaction.

“And I still don’t have one. Just because I don’t know how to drive one doesn’t mean I can’t draft designs of it,” she said. “Getting to learn from the CEO herself, made it a lot easier to master.” Kuvira is quiet for a moment, letting the statement settle in the air.

“I’m assuming you and Asami were close.”

“You could say that.” The answer was innocent enough. But Hiro couldn’t help the creeping blush heating on her face and she let the lingering smile show on her lips as she thought about the young engineer. It was also a sad smile considering how she left things. Asami was a great friend, and Hiro loved being around someone who thrived off knowledge and technology as much as she does. Despite how close they had gotten, Hiro had kept a lot hidden from her, afraid of being judged or looked down on. Still, it wasn’t right for her to have snapped at Asami for trying to help mend her relationship with Suyin. She promised herself that the next time she sees Asami, Hiro would finally come clean about her past, no matter how much it hurts. It was only the right thing to do for everything Asami has done for her.

Hiro drew more lines and indication markers, completely engrossed in her work now. She hadn’t even noticed when Kuvira left without another word commenting on her relationship with Asami. The guards came treading back in and with the Great Uniter gone, Hiro let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

To her left was the metal plates that had been previously wrapped around her neck.

It wasn’t the best way that could’ve gone, but hey she was still alive and that’s all she could really ask for at this point. This was definitely going to be harder than she thought.

---

What Kuvira claimed was a room was more like a closet. It was a tight rectangle box with a pull down bed from the wall, only wide enough to fit one person. Directly next to it were hooks she assumed for clothes and a dresser. The thin blanket and soft pillow didn’t look very cozy. For such a high tech train, their means of living was certainly lackluster.

Hiro sat down and rubbed her neck, trying to relieve the crick in it. Her hand grazed the rash and she winced, remembering Kuvira’s threat from earlier. Her gaze turned towards the small square window near the ceiling of her room. What was she doing? After running for so many years, she was right back to the root of her problems. To help the Earth Empire went against her basic morals. She heard about the reeducation camps and Kuvira’s cruelty towards towns after she conquered them. It was wicked and cruel to do to people already suffering. Hiro can’t help her thoughts linger on Kuvira. The Kuvira she used to know stood for balance and equality. She fought for what was right and would protect people. Doing this just didn’t seem like her.

Hiro closes her eyes. Of course this was Kuvira. This is the name she made for herself now: The Great Uniter with her maglev train of oppression. It was both a symbol of hope and destruction; a beginning and an end. And Hiro doesn’t know at what end she was at. This could all be for nothing and she could just be helping the Earth Empire finish its mission once and for all. She was directly helping the impending war on the United Republic. Maybe it was too late and Kuvira was too far gone. Zaofu fell. Their once shared home had succumbed under her rule and she had Suyin prisoner. Maybe...it was really too late.

The shouting outside her door alerted her from her melancholy thoughts. Hiro hesitated before peeking it open and pressing her ear to the small opening she made.

“You need to trust me, I’m not having this discussion again.”

“Can’t you see she’s tricking us, she’s nothing, but trouble!”

“Will you stop shouting! I told you I’ve handled it.”

“You really think she’s going to give us anything substantial? How do you know it isn’t all a trap?”

Hiro’s hand slipped across the handle and the door slammed shut, nearly taking her ear off with it. She cursed to herself. Even after all these years, she was still quite clumsy. The door abruptly slid back open, not to her own doing. She realized someone had metalbent it open and she cautiously stepped out into the small hallway.

Baatar Jr. and Kuvira stood a few feet away down the narrow hallway. Baatar had a scowl on his face and his hair was out of it’s usual cleaned slick back position. Kuvira had both her gloves off and the top buttons of her uniform undone and disheveled. It was either two scenarios: Hiro had either just cockblocked or gotten in the middle of an argument. She doesn’t know which would be worse. Hiro blinked twice and looked between the two of them.

“Hey Baatar…it’s been a while?” Hiro jokes. She was met with silence, neither of them amused by her sudden appearance. The awkward smile left her lips. “I was just going to the bathroom!”

Hiro mentally slapped herself when she realized she’d have to walk past them to go to the direction of the bathroom. She quickly shuffled past them and kept her eyes down. The tension in the hallway hung in the air as she closed the train car door behind her. 

She walked briskly through the train car and past two guards, into the also very small bathroom. She was going to hide out in here for a while and hope that whatever Kuvira and Baatar had been doing outside her room was finished by the time she got back.

She leaned her forehead against the cool bathroom door in exhaustion. By what she heard, they were definitely having a fight about someone. Maybe her? She didn’t want to assume, although it does flatter her. This could be very useful. In the newspaper articles of Republic City, it seemed like Baatar and Kuvira were the perfect couple. They were always picturesque and ready to lead a nation together. It was something Hiro thought was impenetrable. However, if there was ever a crack in the armour, Hiro thinks she might’ve just found it. Another piece in her Pai Sho game.

After some time, Hiro exits the bathroom and the guards are still stationed. It's dark out now and most of the train inhabitants have retired in their closet rooms. It also meant Kuvira was probably also in her room. Hiro walks quietly past the guards, trying to keep her head low as they continue a conversation languidly. Either they don’t see her as a threat or don’t care about what they’re saying.

“Those twins are really getting on my nerves. Someone should show them respect.”

“Nah, that mom is what’s a pain for me.”

Hiro’s ears piqued and tried not to let her interest show. Walking past them, she tries to slow her pace as she moves into the other car.

“Oh well, they’re getting sent to the camps soon enough.”

Hiro let's the door shut behind her. Relief washed over her when she realized Baatar and Kuvira were gone and she immediately went to her room. Sliding the door firmly shut and locking it, she leaned her back against the metal door. Her heart was racing now at her newfound information. Suyin and the twins were here. On the maglev train. Even though Kuvira gave her word, Hiro had to see them herself. And if what those guards were saying was true, she was running out of time.

---

Kuvira was not having a good day.

She partly blames it on the rooms on the train and how uncomfy they were. Granted she had a slightly larger living space than most people, but it still wasn’t comfortable. She often woke up with a stiff back and aching neck. It was something she had never truly gotten used to despite having to live on the maglev train for quite some time now.

She also blames it on her fight the night before with Baatar. She hated when he let his feelings cloud his judgement. Didn’t he understand that Hiro was useful? And if she wasn’t then Kuvira would send her to one of the prisons, as simple as that. But for now they needed any information they could about Republic City. It was all for their cause, she tells herself. And that’s what she tells herself when she goes to see Hiro in the small gap she has in her schedule.

“Here to check in again? Doesn’t the Great Uniter have better things to do?”

“What is your progress?” Kuvira asked, ignoring Hiro’s comment. Today was not the day to be challenged. Hiro noticed too and obediently slid her now half filled workbook. The Republic City map was now completely drawn over and Kuvira had a hard time understanding what half of the different colored words and symbols meant. She skimmed over the workbook. “It’s a good start, I’m impressed with your progress.” Hiro smiled and leaned back, balancing herself on the back two legs of her chair. “Is there anything you need that I could get for you? Did you eat yet?”

“No, but I’ve been on a roll all day I hadn’t noticed,” Hiro shrugged, casually. Kuvira noticed the metal plates on her uniform were completely gone. “I probably need another map of Republic City though and maybe also the United Republic. There’s more I could write and give visual context for. I know Baatar was always a visual learner.”

Kuvra narrowed her eyes, studying the map ever so closely. Then she turned her gaze to Hiro.

“You seem to be in a good mood?” Hiro stretched her arms over her head and yawned.

“Well the food here is better than I would’ve thought. No fire noodles or seaweed wraps, but better than military rations,” she complimented.

“I was speaking about your adjustment to the Earth Empire. I was expecting more of a fight from you.”

“Why? You want me to beat you up?” Of course this was a joke. Hiro could barely bend metal straight let alone fight. “And to answer your question, oh Great Uniter, maybe I’ve just accepted my fate. I mean what’s the point of fighting what’s inevitable? You have Zaofu and the rest of the Earth Kingdom. Republic City isn’t going to go down without a fight, but what more damage could you do?”

A smirk grew on Kuvira’s face and memories from this morning’s meeting came to mind. The one thing that had gone right today was coming along just as planned. 

“Oh you have no idea.”

Hiro’s eyebrows furrowed together and she tsked, observing Kuvira’s behavior.

“Eerily creepy and very mysterious,” Hiro deduced. “Nice to know you’re just as vague as ever.”

“Let’s just say, soon the world will know of the power I hold,” Kuvira taunted. “Your efforts are much appreciated, please let me walk you to get something to eat before continuing your work.”

Hiro gets up and follows Kuvira out and through the train cars. Kuvira had already eaten, but she could take the time out of her schedule to escort Hiro to the eating area set up outside. Hiro was limited to go places on her own and always had one guard to take her to the workstation and back to her room. They were camped out on the outskirts of the Foggy Swamp since last night. The small fleet of soldiers they brought with them were mostly holding down the maglev train. The main group was already deep in the Foggy Swamp, searching for more Spirit Vines. Baatar had headed out this morning with them, using his equipment to track the strongest spirit energy. Right after she drops Hiro off, she would be leaving with the next set of troops. Kuvira glances over at the woman before speaking up.

“I know this may be inappropriate to bring up, but I don’t like rumors spreading,” Kuvira said, stopping mid pace to turn and face her. “I want to apologize for arguing outside of your room last night.”

Hiro choked visibly on her breath, clearly surprised by the conversation topic. There weren’t that many soldiers around them so Kuvira didn’t have to worry about someone overhearing their conversation.

“I should apologize! I didn’t mean to hear any of that,” Hiro stuttered. “I also really didn’t mean to intrude on anything going on.”

Kuvira’s eyes widened as she realized Hiro’s insinuation. “It was nothing like that!” Kuvira defended. Looking at Hiro’s eyes, she saw them dancing with amusement and the slight smirk she was fighting off. She was making jokes?

“I don't need the details, and don’t worry my lips are sealed,” Hiro reassured. “There’s no one here for me to talk to anyway.” Kuvira smiled gently back at her.

“Thank you. I know it must have seemed strange, as how most people perceive our relationship,” Kuvira started. It was a hard time keeping their personal life away from the cameras or the troops. Kuvira made it a point to never speak openly about their relationship in interviews or meetings. It was something her soldiers knew better than to comment on. That is unless they wanted to be crushed by a boulder. “I assure you, it will not happen again.”

“Like I said, I don’t need to know the details.”

It was the way Hiro was firm with her words that kept Kuvira from pressing further and also made her realize Hiro’s visible uncomfort with the topic. She was seated at a table outside away from many of the other soldiers. Her eyes darted around the camp, looking anywhere but at Kuvira. She sighed, realizing she might’ve just made things worse than keeping her mouth shut.

“I’ll be leaving now, I’ll see you again tomorrow.” Hiro didn’t even look at her as she turned and walked back to the maglev. 

---

That night Kuvira slugs back to her room, exhausted, but hopeful. Being the leader meant she needed to always be hopeful for an auspicious outcome. Although it was a very successful day for them, they were going to have to pull in as many forces as possible now to collect all the Spirit Vines. Plus the travel through the forest had been a tiring one, and they had only made it back to the maglev after nightfall. She was tired and smelled like grime, but maybe she’d have to pass on a shower tonight in exchange for at least some sleep.

She metal bends the top portion of her uniform off, leaving her in a black tank top and green pants. She lays back on her bed kicking her boots off. A gentle knock on her door made her sit up. Kuvira resists groaning as she calls out to the person. There were only a few people that dared bother her after she retired to her room.

Baatar slid the door open and gently closed it behind him.

“I want to talk,” he started. Baatar took a seat next to her and when she didn’t protest, he continued. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.” He gently reached up and started to help her unpin her hair.

“You are forgiven.” “It’s just,” he spoke up. The worry in his eyebrow tells Kuvira that there’s more he wants to push against. Their relationship was a delicate push and pull. He was her second in command, but in turn that meant she was his superior. She’d be lying if she said their work dynamic didn’t also reflect their relationship. And right now he seemed to be weighing his options of which fight he wanted to pick. “I don’t trust her. I think this is a big mistake to have her coming with us.”

“Hiro knows more about Republic City than anyone else. She was vital in the rebuilding project. We need to be prepared for whatever Republic City has in store,” Kuvira answered. She runs a hand through her wavy hair, scratching her scalp. “Besides, she won’t try anything as long as we have Suyin.”

“I know, but that’s what makes her even more untrustworthy,” Baatar argued. He lay back on her bed and took his glasses off. He rubs a hand across his eyes. “I’m not questioning you, I’m just worried.”

“Are you sure this isn’t your personal feelings getting in the way?” she asks quietly. She didn’t want to bring it up before, but it seemed like now was the only time where they could have true privacy to speak openly. Kuvira’s not oblivious to the fact that their three shared past could become a problem. It was the reason why they fought last night. And clearly it seemed like this was past work and was bothering Baatar on a deeper level.

“No of course not. I love having your ex fiance only a couple doors down from me,” he groans sarcastically. Kuvira shoots him a glare before getting up to change into pajamas. 

“It’s not for nothing. Believe me, she hasn’t been easy to handle,” Kuvira muttered.

“Why do you even bother seeing her then? Just leave the guards to take care of her if she acts up,” Baatar said ominously. Kuvira frowned. Baatar was engrossed with cleaning his glasses to notice. “Or I could keep an eye on her? Check her work to make sure she isn’t plotting something.”

Kuvira thought about it. On one hand it would be the smart thing to have Baatar oversee Hiro. But given their history, they may get less done than if she left Hiro alone. He had a good point though, Kuvira couldn’t keep wasting time watching over Hiro. She had a whole empire to oversee and a plan to execute. Once Republic City and the entire United Republic surrendered to her, she will have completed reuniting the kingdom. Then it would be a period of building prosperity back to her people and she would need every waking minute to make sure she could have that. It only bothered Kuvira that she hadn’t thought about it herself.

“What about Zhu Li? I’d rather have you stay primarily working on the Colossal and the Spirit Canon. But if you could release Zhu Li to watch her, I would be satisfied with that.” That seemed to appease Baatar as he nodded sleepily on her bed. With how small the rooms are on the train, they had separate rooms. He seemed to already be dozing off though. Kuvira tucked herself in next to him, letting his heavy arm fall around her waist. Her back was facing him and she was sure that he was asleep, but she wasn’t tired anymore.

Her thoughts kept her from falling asleep. Hiro felt like a new kind of mystery to Kuvira. She wasn’t sure why she insisted on visiting Hiro herself when she knew she could’ve gotten someone else to do it. Although it seemed like Hiro was being complacent, something just didn’t sit right with her. She was just being too casual, when the Hiro she used to know would be fighting and refusing to work unless Suyin was freed. As Kuvira slowly let sleep overcome her, she didn’t let her mind wander away from the young woman who had somehow once again piqued her interest. 

---

“Again? Twice in one week, I’m thinking you need to get a bag,” Kuvira jokes. It wasn’t something she did often. Most of the time she needed to be professional and save face as the Captain. But in this empty hallway with a pretty woman struggling with papers across the floor, even she could let her armour down. Hiro’s glasses were pushed up to her forehead, revealing more of her illuminating brown eyes. They had Kuvira completely captivated.

She looks up and sees the green and metal clad Captain approaching her. 

“I do have a bag. I just never remember to bring it,” Hiro points out. “Maybe I should start though. This is becoming embarrassing.”

“Only a little. I find it quite adorable though,” Kuvira winks. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you were trying to distract the Captain from her duties.”

“I promise that’s not it! I would never!” Hiro shouts, clutching her papers tighter to her chest. She was on her knees and holding on to the papers for dear life. The glimmering look in Kuvira’s eye was the only indication that made her realize that the Captain was teasing her. And the flush on her cheeks made Kuvira want to see Hiro blush a hundred different ways. 

“Well I don’t know if Su would approve of me shirking my duties, but I certainly don’t mind helping a woman in need, especially one that seems clumsy.”

“Sorry, Captain,” Hiro apologizes, looking down at her lap. “I told you earlier this week to call me by my name.” “Sorry! Again,” Hiro muttered.

“You apologize a lot, is that a habit?”

“Yes?”

“Well that’s something we’re going to have to break out of you.” Kuvira didn’t think Hiro could flush more. She licked her lips and realized that during their conversation they had moved closer together. Their shoulders were almost touching now and Kuvira had even a better view of Hiro’s brown eyes now. Realizing how this must’ve come across, she scoots back from her. “I’m sorry. This is very unprofessional of me.”

“No! It’s not you. Can I speak frankly, Captain?” Kuvira nodded. “You make me quite nervous.”

Kuvira's laugh echoed through the hallways.

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.” The twinkle in her eyes gave away that she almost found it a compliment. Of course someone of her rank came with a sense of responsibility, and even her closest friends said she let her “Captain” side incorporate it’s way into her personality. 

“I don’t mean to offend. It’s true though. You probably have the most intimidating eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“If we’re both being frank, you also make me nervous,” Kuvira admitted. Hiro’s eyes jerked up in surprise.

“Me? Quiet amateur scientist who drops her papers in the hallways?” Hiro gawked.

“You intrigue me, what can I say?” It was the truth. Unlike most newcomers to the Metal Clan, Hiro was dedicated only to working for Suyin and Zaofu. Hiro hadn’t tried to seek another form of metalbending or trying to find some kind of self improvement journey; she was here to work. There was a sense of loyalty that came from her, something that Kuvira held high respect for. As someone who has spent their whole life trying to find loyalty or a sense of purpose, Kuvira relished meeting someone with similar goals. It was what drew Kuvira to Hiro in the first place, trying to find more reasons than not to visit the security department. 

“How can a simple girl like me intrigue you? I mean, you’re the Captain of the Metal Clan Guard for crying out loud,” Hiro boasts. “You’re the youngest person to have been promoted to be Captain and you’re a dancer.”

“Stalking me now?” Kuvira teased again. Kuvira’s instincts were right then when she thought she felt a figure watching her while at dance rehearsal the other day. Who knew it was the cute girl she had been thinking about? “It doesn’t seem fair that you know so much about me and I know so little about you. How about we change that? Are you free for dinner tonight?” “What?” Hiro sputtered out. Kuvira was known to be very direct. It was honestly a blessing and a curse. Because right now she could either get a date with this beautiful woman she’s been yearning to learn more about or get rejected and have to face possible repercussions for inappropriate behavior. In addition, she’d have to stop trying to find excuses to see Hiro, and in her opinion that was the worst result. 

“I apologize for being so forward.” Kuvira had a sheepish look on her face. It was difficult to face possible head on rejection from such attractive eyes staring at you. “I find that being direct and honest about my intentions takes away from any miscommunication. I would like to have dinner with you tonight, Miss. Zhao. As a date.”

Hiro’s mouth is agape, taking in Kuvira’s words. Kuvira shifts uncomfortably by the silence that follows, and is ready to apologize and promise to leave Hiro alone-

“Okay. It’s a date, Captain.”

[flowerspecial]

I.M falls in love with another artist

Being brand new into this industry, you didn't really know what to expect. You had never expected for your career to blow up like this. Your mother had pushed you to send a video of you singing to a local record company. And here you were. One of the hottest new artists of the year. You had to relocate to America, so you felt somewhat lonely. Uprooting your life is never easy, and adding the enormous gamble of whether you will actually make it or not. Your heart had been on edge for a while now.

Your manager had booked you into what seemed like hundreds of interviews and talk shows. Your promotion was huge. Your manager had put a lot of money and time into making you a known name in every household. Every interviewer had told you that you were a breath of fresh air coming into this industry. Your voice was deep and strong, it resonated through any arena that you performed in. It's almost as if your voice was that bridge between musical theatre, and jazz. You had this Aretha Franklin vibe going on, and it was greatly received by the public.

Normally at the end of an interview, you are requested to sing a song for the audience. It's a great way for people to get that little taste of who you are as a performer. Your most recent interview was with none other James Corden. James Corden was your favourite talk show host, so you wanted to make this interview better than the others. As the interview proceeded, James began to ask you rather basic questions, such as, how did you get discovered, what's it like living in America etc. But James being James, he’s always going to throw in a cheeky question here and there. That’s just in his nature.

“So, is there anyone on the scene?” James asked you, smirking.

“I’m afraid not.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders slightly to the camera. “I’m not that lucky in love I’m afraid.”

“But you write songs about heartbreak, so surely there must be something there?” He said quizzically.

“I mean I’ve watched my friends experience heartbreak. And I’ve seen enough heartbreaks on tv to know the essence of one. You don’t have to have direct experience with the thing you are writing about it. It's all about embellishment.” You’ve rehearsed this answer so many times, it reels off like an automated response. James did have a fair point. You do tend to write songs that are more melancholic, but that's just because those types of songs show off your vocals the best. Also, you’ve always had quite the sad, dramatic heart. So you found writing lyrics that are more on the sad side much easier than writing about sunshine and rainbows.

“Is there anyone in the industry that you would like to collaborate with?” James asked.

“I mean it's still early days for me. So honestly if anyone reached out, I’d probably say yes. But I would love to work with a K-pop group. They are all dominating right now so it would be cool to see their process to creating music.”

“So BTS?” James said, which elicited a deafening roar of applause and cheers from the audience.

“BTS are a definite. But also groups like NCT or Monsta X. I love Monsta X, so that collab would be a dream come true.” You spoke like a true fan girl, clutching your chest when you mentioned Monsta X. You had been following the group since they debuted, and so if there was any chance in the world that you could do a collaboration with them, you were down.

At the end of the interview, you began to prepare yourself for your performance. When you are on stage, you tend to stand off to the side. This is because you love having dancers be the focal point. You have always said that dancing accentuates the points that the singer tries to get across with the lyrics. You also preferred your lighting to be quite dark. The darkness matched with the soulfulness of your voice, which helped transport the audience into this almost eerie but nonetheless beautiful place that you tried to emulate.

The following day, you woke up to a frenzy of notifications buzzing on your phone. The light dazzled you slightly, but you saw that all of your friends were telling you to get onto twitter pronto. On twitter you saw that your name was trending, but it wasn't just your name. It was your name and Monsta X that was trending. Confused, you click on the hashtag and began scrolling through to see what everyone is going on about.

Your eyes practically doubled in size when you saw that you had been mentioned on Monsta X’s official Twitter page. You dropped the phone in astonishment. Your heart was beginning to race as you could possibly think what they had said. Maybe it was to say thank you for mentioning them? Or maybe it was to say that they hated you and wanted nothing to do with you? Okay, so you realise that maybe you were beginning to run away with yourself. So you picked up the phone to read the message:

We love you too! We would love to work with you sometime! Message us - Changkyun

Was this real? You thought to yourself. Was this actually real life? Did the real Changkyun from Monsta X genuinely just tell you that he is down to work with you? You honestly didn't know how to process this information. So you just sat upright on your bed staring blankly at your phone. What was the protocol here? Should you actually message them? Or were they just being nice for the sake of their image? You was conflicted about your next move but thankfully that decision was taken out of your hands as a notification had popped up that you had a message.

We are working in the same studios that you work in. If you are free at all today, maybe you could come down and we could talk about the collaboration? - Changkyun

You smiled at yourself and thought it was cute that Changkyun was the one who messaged you and mentioned you on twitter. But maybe that was just because he was one of the strongest in English. You didn't want to make a mountain out of a molehill.

After reading the message you sprang off your bed and began to rush around your house. You needed to have a shower, brush your teeth, have breakfast, get dressed, the list was endless. And you know that phenomena that when you are in a rush, everything goes wrong and things keep slowing you down? Well, that was indeed happening to you. It took you ages to finally get out of the house, but thankfully the studios were only a short drive away.

Walking into the studios, you felt nervous in a way. People always say that you should never meet your idols. What happens if they are actually all horrible people? Or maybe this is just one big joke to humiliate you. You pushed the door of your studio slightly, and you sighed in relief as you saw Changkyun sat in there.

“Hey, it's nice to meet you.” You bowed slightly trying to show your respect. But you felt a tad awkward, so you also put your hand out for him to shake. He laughed at your cute little introduction but took your hand anyway.

“Likewise. Your performance last night was amazing. I was stunned.” Changkyun said smoothly. You cursed yourself inwardly as you began to feel a bit hot under his gaze.

Trying to look anywhere, except at Changkyun, you looked across the room. But something didn't seem quite right. “Wait, where is everyone else?” You hadn't noticed it when you first walked in, but now you had realised that Changkyun was alone.

“Oh, the others have something right now but they are coming later!” He sensed your body shift slightly. “Is that okay? If not we can just wait for them to come! I just thought that you and I could get started now. Besides, the other boys don’t really speak English that well so it would be me doing all the talking anyway.”

“Yeah it's fine with me! It just seems strange with only one of you being here. I’m used to seeing all of you together.” You giggled slightly at the end. You took a seat on a chair near the recording deck and patted the seat next to you for Changkyun to sit in. “Now, is there anything you definitely do or definitely don’t want out of this collab?”

“I would like to do something that shows off your voice. You have the best voice I have ever heard. It's so soothing yet powerful. It's like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” As Changkyun confessed, his eyes captured yours and he held them hostage. You was flattered by his sweet words. Due to your rather sudden success, you had grown accustomed to compliments. Many of which you could tell were not said sincerely. But you felt touched by Changkyun’s comments. You could tell that he was speaking from his heart.

“Thank you so much, I’m flattered. I’ve been a huge fan of yours since you debuted. I am honestly shocked that I even get to be in the same room as you!” You replied, prying your eyes away from his. What you didn't notice, as you had looked away, was the faintest of smiles that danced on Changkyun’s lips. He studied the features of your face as if he was about to take an exam in them. He could stare at you all day, and one day he intended on doing just that. But for now, he remembered why you two were here in the first place.

“So I’m thinking, to go with your aesthetic. We could a slow song but with a good beat in the background. That way me and Joohoney could rap. We could even get the other boys to harmonise with you!” His eagerness to appease you was charming.

“I like it. But I don’t actually mind doing something a bit more uptempo. My manager did say it would be good to have at least one song that is different from the rest. That way I can test the waters, you know?”

The afternoon continued as you bounced ideas between each other. In the end you had settled on a fast-ish paced song. Something that really hits hard. We are talking Shoot Out times a thousand. Lyrics was something you always found quite easy to come up with. And working with Changkyun made it even easier, if that was even possible. You seemed to constantly be thinking on the same wavelength. You threw lyrics out left right and centre and Changkyun just had this undeniable talent for making them all connect. As you worked, you sat very close to each other, your shoulders touching. Changkyun would forever be leaning into your personal space to read what you have written. Not that you minded of course.

Changkyun suggested that you should go into the booth and have a mess around with some of the vocals that you might like to feature. That way he could really get a feel for who you are as an artist. Messing around, he told you to go full on Christina Aguilera. And you did just that. The songs that you produce don’t necessarily require that type of singing. You need to be strong in your voice, but you don’t really need to do a lot of runs or belting out. So it's nice to actually see if your voice is capable. Changkyun was truly mesmerised by your talent. He'd only suggested singing like that as a joke, and yet here you were making a joke out of him. You shocked him every way possible, and he loved it. You took your headphones off for a second, just to get a drink.

“We are definitely using that in the song!” He exclaimed, using his hands to show his undeniable excitement.

“Are you sure? I don’t think it sounds that good.”

“You are joking right?” Changkyun stands up and places a hand on each shoulder. “You know I’m just saying this because you are stood in front of me. I truly think you are the best singer I have ever heard! You make everything seem effortless and I could listen to you for hours. You need to show the world that you can sing like that!”

“I guess I could do it once. Just to try it.” Before you or him registered what he was doing. Changkyun embraced you in tight arms and lifted you off the group slightly. He thought you were the most endearing person he had ever met.

“Well excuse me, looks like we are interrupting something.” A voice said. You jumped away from Changkyun in embarrassment. You looked over at who was speaking, and you saw the rest of Monsta X stood before, smirking at you both.

“Oh no, nothing is happening here. We are just working” You quickly spluttered out. You rubbed your arms in comfort and looked at the floor awkwardly.

“Clearly,” Minhyuk began. “Hey Chan, why don’t you hug me like that when we are working?” He asked suggestively.

“Please shut up.” Changkyun mumbled to his older member, clearly mortified with what he was insinuating.

“Okay, okay. Well are you at least going to show us what you have been working on. It seems like Channie here wants you all to yourself.” Minhyuk said.

“I thought you had meetings earlier? That’s why you couldn't get here.” You asked confused.

“Nope. Chan told us this time.” You tried to look at Changkyun but he was looking at the floor with bright red cheeks. “Clearly he didn't want us to ruin the moment.”

Looking at Changkyun, you decided not to press on it further. The boy looked like he would feel this humiliation for days. So instead, you went to the desk and pressed play to show the rest of the boys what you two had been working on. The boys left cheeky comments here and there about Changkyun’s obsession with you. The boys were eager to tell you that he had watched every video and interview that you had ever been on. And they were sure on telling you that when you mentioned on TV that you were a fan, he all but fainted on the spot.

When it was time to leave, the boys filled out of the room quickly, leaving you and Changkyun alone once again.

“I’m really sorry about what they said earlier. It's true, I am a huge fan of yours, when you said you’re a fan of us, I may have screamed a little. So I understand if you think that I am coming on too strong. Or was sneaky for wanting to spend some time with you on my own…” Changkyun rambled on. The best way of shutting him up that you could think of was to place a tender kiss on his cheek. It worked wonders.

“You know, I think it works perfectly that I’m a fan of you and you're a fan of me. It shows we both have excellent taste in music.” You winked at him, causing him to giggle slightly. “But it also means that you will have my best intentions at heart. It means that you will care for me and nurture me when I need it. It means that I think you and I should go on a date sometime.”  Changkyun struggled to contain his elation at your comment. He grabbed both of your hands and kissed the back of each. He pulled you in close to his chest, and said softly.

“Well, what about now?”

[hecallsmehischild]

(TLDR) I sewed three patches on this couch two days ago.

Today I watched one of the high school graduation ceremonies taking place across the country. I was surprised at how many bitter and resentful responses I had to swallow down as the video rolled on. I can’t put my finger one hundred percent on why, but I think it had a great deal to do with the emphasis on success and making a huge impact, and the laying of this expectation on the shoulders of those who were graduating.

I graduated from an earlier iteration of this particular high school. What I treasure most were the memories I made with friends there, and the good teachers I encountered. I graduated with a 3.7 GPA and two AP classes (Psych and English) from a private college prep Christian high school. Despite how reserved I tended to be, I somehow won “Most Memorable” in the yearbook, and anyone who took English with me knew how much I loved to write. It was pretty obvious I was going to succeed in my... goals? Eh, we’ll figure out goals later, because anyway I was pretty sure to be a total success wherever I chose to go.

Goals. Be a writer, right? Some degree in Creative Writing, maybe land a job as an editor at a publishing house? Right? That’s what’s supposed to happen? I guess? I went two states away to go to a college that offered better financial aid and had a good Creative Writing program... what, I should have asked, even constitutes a good Creative Writing program?

The next two years watched me slowly flush my 3.7 down the toilet. Granted, it would have helped if I understood that I was contending with Bipolar 2, and not just Depression, but I don’t think that would have changed enough to save me. I had no idea what being an adult looked like. I didn’t understand the "units” I was supposed to accrue at college (they somehow landed in the “abstract” section of my brain). I’m supposed to shape my own course, now? How does that work? But I didn’t even have the language for my confusion and everyone seemed to KNOW these things. And then, out of nowhere, something would happen in a class and my brain would throw up an utter blockade against the idea of ever returning to class A, X, or C ever again because I fell asleep too often/couldn’t face the peer review board/didn’t understand what the hell they were trying to teach me/couldn’t MAKE myself finish that 8 page paper that should have been a cakewalk for someone like me.

I failed. I utterly and completely failed, as my classmates continued on toward their bright, shiny college degrees and plans for Masters.

In a Christian High School, one of the extra expectations laid on you is that you go out and do great things for the Kingdom of God. I am so divided about this statement, because I have to believe it is handed out with good intentions, but I believe it misses something very important about the very Kingdom it wants to represent. By coupling this with graduation and talk about success and “dreaming big” and all those grand speeches, it makes representing God out to be exclusively a grand endeavor, with a whole string of unspoken footnotes attached. Your ministry must be notable, your actions seen and discussed (as favorably as possible), you must emulate Jesus (but only in the aspects of his excellence, not his counter-authoritarianism or radical table-flipping if-you-please), you must be sure to leave your mark on this world so you can hear those oh so coveted words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Live a good life, waste no time ever, always strive for above and beyond, don’t be controversial, don’t struggle for too long in life, try to have a good marriage and family and don’t embarrass us too much. Take what I say, here, with a grain of salt, this is the jaded observation of a slightly embittered graduate of a class of ‘07.

You know. My parents have been in ministry almost all my life. Thirty years, and nearly all of those years, their tiny ministry has not been able to pay them full salary. Thirty years of striving and strife, shattering into a thousand pieces over and over and slowly re-knitting each time. Thirty years of trying to walk in Jesus’ footsteps and stumbling every step of the way. Thirty years, and I’d still wager most people don’t know about Improbable People Ministries or A Tour of Roses the way they know names like Joyce Meyer or Billy Graham. (I’m not, here, knocking those people. I’m pulling up a comparison of names to make a point) That they aren’t as well known isn’t what galls me. What galls me is that there’s some unspoken criteria that if they aren’t that universally known, then what’s it worth to God and His Kingdom?

And I turn and I look at me. Two days ago I sewed three patches onto a couch. We ripped it during the move, two years back. I didn’t have any confidence in my sewing skills because, well, I don’t really sew. Every now and then, we’d make the rips worse, and comment about either patching it up or replacing the couch. And I thought, I’ve done so many other things in this house that I didn’t think I could do, maybe I could do this. So I picked out a fabric with birds all over it, to nest among the flowers on the couch. I got two yards, much more than I needed because I had no idea what mistakes I might make. I cut out approximately the right size and shape, plugged in an audiobook, and got to work. Roughly two and a half hours later, I’d done the thing. A professional reupholstery person definitely would have done it better, but I fixed it. I put my touch on it, and now my husband will smile every time he looks at the couch, and it will quit ripping whenever we lean back.

Where am I going with this whole couch bit? Well. I think sometimes God does his work through big names, like Billy Graham or Mother Theresa, and in that way He reaches a lot of people. But I submit that success and visibility and        I M P A C T       is not the only way it works. These days, I go sit and talk with the one neighbor I have energy to visit. I sweep and mop the floor. I push for one more fix to the house, or get adventurous and try to fix it myself. I make fresh meals at home, sometimes with cookies or bread. I hug my husband and chase him around the house (or get chased). I write fanfiction. I make pretty and silly things. I read books, to myself and aloud to others. When I’m struggling, I’m trying more often than not to STOP myself from thrashing to get things done, so that I can pass through the period of depression or downswing with fewer internal lacerations.

Some people will shoot for the stars and land there and do great and grand things. And that is well and good. But the Kingdom of God is not limited to those things. I don’t know what He has for me in the future, but for now I tend to what is at hand; myself, my husband, and this house. And I think that this is work He has given me to do right now. It is a small thing, but it is my thing, and it is not lessened by the fact that it’s for a very limited number of people. And the marvelous thing is that while this work is good for those around me, it also is stretching and teaching me new ways relating to the world. This “small” work is also healing me. And that, in turn, overflows back onto the people around me.

I reiterate: I sewed three patches on this couch. It’s a ridiculously tiny thing in the grand scheme of things. As is assembling a cabinet, or replacing a toilet seat, or learning how to paint a wall. But I took YEARS to come out from under the belief that my decisions were always going to end in disaster, or that I was riding everyone else’s wake because I couldn’t own my life choices. I’m still horribly afraid of screwing up in some areas, but that fear is lessening its grip on my life one area at a time. I think I will be flailing through life my whole life long, and they don’t talk about that in graduation speeches because they want to send you off feeling super confident. But I wanna say, to any fellow flailers who may not feel all that confident, or who had that confidence shattered, you aren’t less.

I know... that I’m speaking as a Christian, here. And that not all of you reading this are. And that’s ok, I’m not here to change you. But whether you are or not, I wanna say that the way I’ve seen God work in my life and my family’s lives is that nothing is wasted. Small things we never would have deemed important became lynchpins down the line. Areas of our lives metaphorically burned to ashes are in continual process of bearing unruly wildflowers. And I believe He sees all those small things in your lives, too.

The other day I sewed three patches on a couch. And healed a tiny bit more. And brought a fraction more peace and joy and laughter to our surroundings. And that is one facet of the Kingdom of God.

[fucking-zawa-sensei]

Do you still do asks??? 25 and 49 please :3

Hahaha, is this for the fanfic writer ask meme? That was the last one I did, so I’m assuming that’s the one you’re referring to. That was admittedly weeks ago, but sure, why not? I’m always down to answer more asks!

If anyone else wants to ask stuff, here is the post with the questions. 

25. favorite line you’ve ever written

WOW THAT HAS TO BE THE HARDEST QUESTION HRGHHH. I have over 174,000 words worth of lines hahaha. I think some of my favorites might be in stories still forthcoming…

This is admittedly not a “line,” but a paragraph, but I’ve always loved it (Spoiler for Don’t Kid Yourself):

“Something far away, almost primal, inside Aizawa feels like it’s being unlocked, a key turning painfully slow. He feels like a child, leaning over the edge of a great cliff. Seeing miles of beautiful autumn trees stretched out beneath him, vibrant colors he’d never knew existed before that point. He feels like he’s looking at something breathtakingly beautiful for the very first time.

Aizawa had told Yamada he loved him two years ago, but now he thinks he was wrong.

That wasn’t love.

[I took  out a few lines here]

This is love.” - From Chapter 8 of Don’t Kid Yourself

49. writing advice

This isn’t very specific, haha. Gosh, I went to college for writing and I heard a lot of advice and guidance, but perhaps the most important thing I was one day when my professor came into our novel writing workshop and said “I can’t teach you to write.”

He was right. I spent 4 years at college studying writing, and I drastically improved, but no one told me how to do it. The best advice I have for people who want to write is something you’ve probably heard a thousand times before. Read other peoples’ writing, share your writing, and most importantly, write. I did not learn to write in college, but I learned to be confident. I read hundreds of stories from famous and not so famous writers, as well as my fellow classmates. My world was opened up by reading things outside my comfort zone, things that were hard to understand, that were nonlinear, that made me work to figure out what the hell was happening in them. I read stories and took classes about “Breaking silences,” and I was asked questions in workshops that I would have never thought of. Read. Read as many books and stories as you can get your hands on. Don’t emulate these authors, though. Rather, be different from them. Fanfiction is admittedly typically cliche, leaning into a lot of tropes, and following a pattern that’s usually pretty obvious, but I would implore you to do things differently. Put your own twist on something. Write a story no one has seen before. 

People say all the stories have already been written, that we’re all regurgitating the same shit, but when I go into writing I try to think, no, they haven’t. 

Write the thing you’re afraid to write and it will be the best thing you have ever written. 

[four-pages-zine-blog]

Issue 2: Interview with Hannah Depop: @guthball

Q: What brought you to Depop? How long have you had your shop? Did you/Do you sell anywhere else?

A: Depop appealed to me because it's so clear that its basis is in community. I’ve been able to connect, collaborate and create for cool people I might’ve never clicked with otherwise, and I actually, really, truly cherish that. Plus, the layout and features are so user-friendly, there’s never been an intimidation factor. I created an account about two years ago. And I’m still here, maybe just because they added the video feature...

The reception of my art from depop users has been so gratifying. I would not have immersed myself in resin so extensively without that encouragement. It wasn’t long before I joined depop that I began experimenting with the medium; I loved the look, but had no idea what its creation entailed. So I took in a few tutorials, bought a kit, and have grown, or attempted to, from there.

The entrepreneurial bug bit me early. My mom owns and operates a drycleaners, and has allowed me to sell there since I was a kid. It began with hand-drawn bookmarks, friendship bracelets, that kind of thing. Now, I have a display of resin magnets and keychains there. I do local shows here and there, too. Mostly for fun, profit’s never promised. It’s always worth it, though, just to gauge reactions to my work- I love answering questions on process, seeing little kids play with the magnets, or experiencing the moment someone takes a closer look at something I made and really GETS it.

Q: (Your magnet faces make me so happy to look at!) How long have you been making them for, and what inspired the making of these characters?

A: I’m so glad you enjoy the face magnets! They are a blast to make. I just looked through my photos to see how long ago I made my first- it was back to September of 2016. Wow. That piece now resides with my sister, totally forgot it.

A lot of my work is influenced by quirks in process and material, the expression pieces are no exception. At their inception, I’d done a few projects with encapsulated googly eyes before, and had a bunch of sequins I'd bought to make flower accents. It was around then that I realized that the plastic formed packaging from my jewelry findings could be repurposed as a smooth, glossy tile mold, in a range of sizes PERFECT for magnets and other accessories. Toony faces have always been my go-to in drawing, and these introduced a way to marry my illustration style with resin work. I've put together so many goofy lookers now, made out of all sorts of materials, and set in all kinds of molds. I've refined my technique, but still never really know how (/if!) they’ll come together until they’re popped out. The features are all cut and glued, then layered in backwards, so I don’t have a great view as they cure. Pieces can shift, bubbles can sneak their way in, some materials distort when submerged in resin. It can be a challenge to make sure nothing's too out of place, but the glitches can be where the character sneaks in.

I mostly improvise the face designs, but sometimes, just to shake up the procedure, I doodle ideas out beforehand. There’s definitely inspiration from drag, from cartoons, from geometry, texture, and color. I know there’s one with a pout I ripped straight from a photo of my sister- I'm into the idea of full-on custom magnetic portraiture, but no one’s come to me requesting their likeness in sequins and googly eyes yet. The fact that kids think they're fun is also a huge influence: that motivates me to make them as kooky and colorful as I can. There is a selection that made it to a preschool classroom, and it’s been reported back to me that all the kids like to play and even fight over them. I love that!

Q: Do you have any favorite artists that inspire you?

A: She’s inspired by way too many artists!!! A few off the top of my head: Keith Haring, Hattie Stewart, Jillian Evelyn, Betsey Johnson, Parker Day, Shantell Martin, Siobhan Gallagher, Kendra Dandy, Tuesday Bassen, Erté, Klimt, Kay Nielsen, Man Ray, Chagall, Dalí, Hirschfeld, Picasso, Gary Baseman, Kenny Scharf, Neal Levin. If that’s not a weird and wide enough swath... I follow hundreds, if not thousands, of creators of all sorts on instagram. Admittedly extensive, but a wonderful pool of inspiration to dip into.

I have always had an interest in the arts, and (…aquarius here) make a point to be very open to all sorts of visuals. I’m content to take everything in, and very much, like, “like like like”-- it’s a whole thing when I don’t care for something, but I try not to play critic so much. I’m normally drawn to really graphic work, yet down to take the time to appreciate subtleties as well. I gravitate toward what’s wacky, clever, bold, evocative, sparkly, dimensional… a lot of stark contrast as well, a lot of black and white. But also a lot of pink and kitsch. I'm a maximalist, I obsess. That might just be reflected in my work.

And, duh, I admire other resin artists. The medium is SO versatile and I love to see its limits stretched. I put a lot into distinguishing my style from others who create with resin, but there’s major inspo in what everyone else is coming up with! Shout out to my fellow resin-making depoppers :) I’d also like to mention Lauralee Benjamin (if you're not familiar, please change that immediately), who has found inventive ways to use my pieces as accents on her beautiful work. That collaboration is all thanks to depop, and has inspired me in ways I never could have expected.

Q:What is some of your process when you create? (Do you listen to music, create alone or with friends, where is your work space?)

A:Oh my god. It’s all over the place. A lot of my process is just seeing what I can get away with.

So much can go wrong; resin is a finicky substance. I employ a variety of techniques, many developed through trial and error. I try to create unique effects, or emulate things I’ve seen before in my own way. Many of my projects are worked in layers, transformed with each pour. It can be as simple as mixing a bunch of glitters together. Even that can be tricky, though! I can get very in my head about intricacies, and try to balance the detail-oriented with simpler projects, or whatever'll give me a break from the eyestrain. Most of my stuff comes from sitting down at my workspace, assessing my supplies, and sorting it out from there. Once I have a batch of resin mixed, it's a race to get it divided into colors and divvied into molds. At times it requires a lot of precision, and a willingness to just wait it out and see what’ll happen.

Tools and materials dictate much of the process. I have a few staples, but keep an eye out for new supplies just about everywhere. I get the biggest kick out of repurposing components that might’ve otherwise been trashed. Think broken jewelry, old cosmetics, sequin scraps, and single-use plastics. I intend to look into eco-resin and biodegradable glitters down the line; it’s a matter of cost and accessibility, but adjustments I find necessary, at least for my own sake, in continuing with this art form.

At the end of last year I cleared a space in my (creepy) basement as a studio. It’s kept a hectic mess, but… that’s my nature. I work alone, save for a few times my sister has joined me. Friends have been invited to try in the past, but considering resin is such a time-sensitive, kind of hazardous, sticky thing, it’s not a great group activity for the uninitiated.

I work to an, errr, eclectic mix of podcasts and music. A lot of Sondheim, disco, Comedy Bang! Bang! and CBC Radio 2.

Q: What is your favorite piece you've sold so far?

A: Oooh, toughie. The first that comes to mind is one of the first sequin trays I made- it was a really specific rainbow pattern inspired by a book cover. I also love the custom name necklaces; they always turn out so badass! In a few instances, I've made pieces used in photo shoots or performance. Those are extra special to me, too.

Q: Where do you want to go next with your art?

A: My art is going to morph. I want to hone my skill in areas beyond resin, and then find ways to blend the edges. I want to keep pushing, but know when to pull back. I wish to collaborate more, to find solutions I’ve not yet reached, to make some of my outlandish ideas a bit more tangible. I want to build a brand and learn to accrue my worth for once.

And, maybe, down the line, tile a room with a mosaic of resin faces.

Q: What is your favorite fashion era?

A: I love an outrageous 80’s moment.

Q: Do you do commissions?

A: I adore doing commissioned work, and have had so much fun on prior personalized pieces. I am currently open to fulfilling some custom requests, just DM me, whatever!

Visit Hanna's shop!

Depop.com/guthball

[foxallabout853]

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##### THIS REVIEW MOD. DOWNLOAD MOD IN HERE HOW TO INSTALL MOD https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yXyhb-0FzdE. Name: Mod Texture Pack NSUNI NS All Star Anime Character V.1.0 Size: 11 mb Game: Naruto Shippuden Ultimate Impact Versi Game: ULUS10518 and ULES01537 Mod Pack: BG,Theme,Character,Gui Modder: VT Link Download: Download DLC. Jan 22, 2018 Naruto Shippuden Ultimate Ninja Impact ini merupakan texture yang memiliki fungsi untuk mengubah character seperti map gui,hp bar untuk menggantikan ke dalam versi NSUNI ke original.Dimana permaianan yang telah mengalami moded ini sudah memiliki banyak perubahan seperti dari segi tampilan, skill dalam bermain dan juga texture yang semakin keren dan menarik.

I’m pretty sure that some of you are still playing Square Enix’s previous FF online game, Final Fantasy XI. So, great news everyone as “Amelila” has released a new graphics overhaul megapack for it.

This graphics mod significantly improves the Final Fantasy XI’s textures, transforming its blurry and ugly visuals into something that is actually pleasing to the eye, that is actually able to compete with titles released a few years ago. This mod also includes optional HD Bump Maps which will greatly improve your gaming visual experience, though they require a beefy graphics card (according to the author).

The Final Fantasy XI graphics overhaul mod is 277MB in size and you can download it from here. Amelila also claimed that this megapack will always be kept updated as new mods are released, and will be distributed free of charge to everyone.

In order to celebrate its release, Amelila has also released a teaser trailer that you can watch below.

Enjoy!

Watch this video on YouTube

John Papadopoulos

John is the founder and Editor in Chief at DSOGaming. Solidworks 2012 64 bit free download. He is a PC gaming fan and highly supports the modding and indie communities.Before creating DSOGaming, John worked on numerous gaming websites. While he is a die-hard PC gamer, his gaming roots can be found on consoles. John loved - and still does - the 16-bit consoles, and considers SNES to be one of the best consoles. Still, the PC platform won him over consoles. That was mainly due to 3DFX and its iconic dedicated 3D accelerator graphics card, Voodoo 2. John has also written a higher degree thesis on the 'The Evolution of PC graphics cards.' Contact: Email

Hairstyles in the Sims. Can things ever get stranger?

Some people think thehair that comes with the base game feels a bit too bland, while some don’t like the way hair looks in vanilla Sims 4 at all.

Thankfully hundreds of modders from all over the world have created custom hairstyles to freshen things up.

It doesn’t matter if you’re looking for the hairstyles for male sims or females or even kids– you’ve come to the right place for all of it!

I’ve divided this list in two parts; the first will give you a breakdown of the best female hair mods for Sims 4, and the second part will tell you all about the best hair mods for male Sims in the game.

Choose wisely and dress up accordingly.

Girl Hairstyle Mods

12. Jealousy Hair

This long hairstyle takes a spot on my list because it reminds me of one of the coolest hairstyles that already comes in the game; but it’s far better and much more detailed.

I would dare say that this mod could easily replace the one that comes with vanilla Sims 4, but some of you might prefer a more traditional look.

In any case, in terms of long hairs with a tail that runs from back to front, you’ll struggle to find one as good as this.

11. Vapor Hair

When you’re going to rate hair mods, you have to understand that transparency plays almost as much of a part as the quality of textures and the design itself.

Rammstein feuer frei free mp3 downloads. As such, this one takes a spot because it ticks both boxes quite perfectly.

It’s a short hairstyle that suits almost every type of lady, and the transparency between the strands feels surprisingly accurate.

10. Ominous Hair

This mod is fantastically detailed, and it offers a unique look.

Actually similar to only one hairstyle that I can recall from the game.

With a small bun on top of the head and some loose hair all over the place, this gives you a stylish look without many similar options.

There are some minor transparency issues but I’m forgiving the issues with this mod because it can’t be easy to model such a unique hairstyle; especially when loose hairs are not intended to be a thing in Sims 4.

9. Paradox Hair

This neat little hairstyle can be used by ladies of all ages, and it comes in a staggering 27 different colors to add plenty of variety to your Sims world.

Try out some of them and see which one fits your Sim the most.

This is a long hairstyle with a ponytail, and it’s detailed enough to be one of the best I’ve seen for the game.

8. Runaway Hair

Detailed and beautiful, the long Runaway Hair is by far one of my favorite hair mods to put on.

Granted, I think the hair itself looks pretty good in real life too. And that might’ve played a part on my decision.

But hey: that doesn’t take away from the astonishing level of work that went into this creation.

7. Prisma Hair

Am I going crazy, because I don’t think there’s a single hairstyle as long as this one in the base game.

I’m trying to recall but I just can’t think of any!

Those who love to see their female Sims with long hair might want to check this one out.

The level of detail is fantastic, it comes with plenty of different colors, and what’s even better is that the hair drops to the front of the body as well as a bit to the back.

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It doesn’t seem to have much transparency issues given that it’s mostly uniform in color, so that’s an added plus.

6. High Life Hair

Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about short hair options.

And this one takes the cake as one of my favorites for the game.

I mostly play with male sims, I do admit that. But I have to tell you that those of you who want to see their Sims rock a short hairstyle with much more details than the ones that come with the base game are going to want to try this one out.

It can be used by Sims of all ages(starting Teen) but it does fit better on Young Adults, in my opinion. Encyclopedia britannica software download.

Yet it’s up to you to decide who rocks it!

5. Envy Hair

Another hairstyle with a unique design, this time being one that is far more withdrawn and less loose than others.

But I figure this can work pretty well on entrepreneurs and businesswoman Sims.

It just seems like a perfect fit for them, you know?

It’s that classic short hairstyle that seemed to be quite popular in the 80s, in which the hair wasn’t really short per se… but it was made to look like it was.

A picture is worth a thousand words though – so check it out!

4. Perfect Illusion

The creator of this mod used Lady Gaga as a reference. And I think the result turned out to be quite accurate.

This hair is super complex and you’ll have a Sim rocking quite a unique style like a rockstar.

Although this type of hair is already included in the base game (or a very similar one, at least). So it may not add a totally unique twist, but it’s worth a download if it could fit with your Sim’s style.

3. Parallel Hair

Wait, braids? I mean, DOUBLE BRAIDS?

How come these are not a thing on the base game?

This one takes the classic “good girl” look to the next level by adding this fantastic hairstyle, which can be used by Sims of all ages.

The best thing about the mod is that the braids are compatible with most of the hats that your Sim can wear too.

Which means it won’t interfere with your quest of creating that hat-loving personality you’ve always wanted.

2. Eden Hair

Another extremely long hair design takes the number two spot on my list. Mainly because I really love long hairs and the base game didn’t provide us with as many options as I would’ve wanted.

In any case, this one flows like a cascade through the left side of your Sim’s body and goes all the way down to the waist.

By far one of the longest hair mods that you’ll find, and it comes in dozens of different colors.

1. Nightcrawler Hair

Look, as much as I love long hair in this game, I couldn’t really avoid putting this mod as the number one on my list.

Fantastically well detailed as well as brilliantly executed in terms of transparency and compatibility issues, the Nightcrawler hair is as modern as it is eccentric.

This hairstyle fits women of all sorts, but housewives or business ladies might look particularly good with this.

You decide, though, as this mod puts the choices in your own hands.

Guy Hairstyle Mods

10. Nicholas Hair

A simple short design that is widely used by men in today’s world, the Nicholas Hair mod makes quite a fantastic addition to the game.

Well, mostly if you’re looking to add a style that suits almost every type of serious-looking Sim.

If you’re playing with a different type, like one that looks to live more of a bohemian lifestyle, then keep reading. There’s something here for you too.

9. Haunting Hairstyles

Shorter hair on the sides doesn’t always have to be as noticeable in order for it to look stylish.

And this hair mod shows exactly why.

Hair that is well-combed is sure to attract a lot of attention, and the Haunting Hairstyles mod will add exactly that to the game.

Plus you’ll have the option to paint various colors thanks to the mod creator’s hard efforts.

8. Hair N4

If you’re into the modern hairstyles usually rocked by sports stars and celebrities, then this mod is going to fit perfectly.

There isn’t one quite like it in the main game, as most that come with The Sims tend to have either an exaggerated mohawk or simply not as much on the sides.

This cut is as balanced as it gets. And you’re going to love the way your Sim looks with it.

As many others in this list, it also comes with color options that’ll give you an extra touch of variety!

7. Like Lust Hair

Are you trying to have your Sim look better than the rest?

Are you tired of the way some of the game’s basic hairstyles look, but you still want a stylish and not-so-cartoonish hair put on top of your male Sim’s head?

This one is like an improved version of the last mod, and in my opinion it looks even better.

You’re going to love watching your Sim rock it; I’m sure of it.

It comes with custom shadowing too, which also enhances realism by a landslide compared to others on this list.

6. Wavves

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Those who have wavy hair might not feel as represented in The Sims 4 community, well as much as those with straight hair.

So it’s time to put a stop to it with the Wavves Hairstyle mod.

This modern update takes a different approach than the rest by adding hair with waves to the game.

But beware – you’re going to need a good computer to make this one look its best. But again, this is The Sims we’re talking about… not exactly a GPU hog.

5. Hysteria

Faded on the sites and very long on the right side of the head, combed to the left.

Quite a unique look, if I may say so myself.

This is the typical hairstyle in forms of modern advertising rocked by those models looking brand-new the day of the photoshoot.

Wish we could all pull this off…

In any case, the hairstyle should suit any man quite nicely. In real life or in Sims land.

4. Electric

Stylish, modern, and worthy of any businessman.

This short hairstyle looks quite good on Sims of all backgrounds.

But I have to say that it’s quite a fantastic one to try on teens or young adults. I think it fits them quite well, but I’m sure you’ll love the way it looks on any wearer.

Plus it’s free so what do you have to lose?

3. Darko

Another modern style that starts with a faded cut on the sides.

But this one has more hair atop of the head, much like the original one that comes with vanilla Sims 4.

If you look closely you’ll notice this one is far more detailed though!

2. Blackout

Feel like a true samurai with the blackout hairstyle.

Which is actually quite a longer hairstyle than you might think on first glance.

Well-rounded and a bit messy, this hair add-on definitely offers something that no other hairstyle in vanilla even comes close to.

1. Psycho

I’m not really sure why most male models used for Sims hairstyles look so weird. But hey, I’m sure Maxis has a good reason.

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Now this hairstyle (fully compatible with hats) serves as a shorter option for men that like to have messy hair, and enough style to rock it regardless of the situation.

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Parties, weddings, business meetings, and more.

It doesn’t really matter what type of Sim you like to play as; this has to be one of the best hairstyles for those looking for an all-rounder man design.

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[guideedutld]

3 steps and 9 tips to getting the best out of time with your child, by Guide Founder Leon Hady.

Congratulations, you’ve won an extended period at home with your own children and have the added responsibility of guiding them through learning as well whatever mountain of duties you have to manage.

I’ve seen a lot written about homeschooling over the last few weeks, and it’s evident not many people writing articles have ever home-schooled their children or been involved in the home schooling of other people’s children. Having home-taught my own children at times between international moves, dozens of students out of school for my tuition center, and been a teacher and headteacher with 12 years experience, I can honestly share from experience, what has worked for me and for others. Hope it helps

This follows in 3 sections - Approach / Delivering / Expectation

Approach

This isn’t school, or even homeschooling. ‘Homeschooling’ is now a widely misused term for what millions of parents are currently trying to emulate, when in reality homeschooling is a choice to remove a child from an educational establishment, fully prepared, with obligation and legal responsibility to adhere to government standards.

Millions of us did not elect this and did not prepare for it. It was thrust upon us as a result of a worldwide pandemic and as such we have to consider it something new and a bridge to the extended work the brilliant schools are now offering.

You are simply guiding learning or connecting to learning opportunities. You are not responsible to create schemes of work or long winded action plans, don’t over prescribe to you or your child, you’re heading in a direction, not creating a user manual on how to follow everything you are doing.

Decide     goals for what you’re doing - you are ultimately filling a unit of time,     to the best of your ability. How can you be the best conduit for learning     with the time you have allowed? Can you sit with your child throughout,     can you set up access to online materials, do you need to leave often?     Pick a realistic way of working with your child and stick to it.

Pick the     times - Compact it all into two hours? Or have 6 half hour sessions     through the day? Pick the method that will serve your skill set and other     responsibilities best and of course what your child will like. Many     schools are offering resources and recommended times, but they are aware     you are not free for much of the day, so access will be day round,     consider where is fairest on yourself and your child. And why do I say 2     hours? School lessons involve lots of student engagement and over     explanation - you’ll have videos / text books or MP3s doing the     information delivery, you need to help with understanding and activity     completion - so your sessions will be far less in duration than school     lessons.

Help     before there is a problem - ah, seems here I’m only asking you to be     Cassandra, but really it’s about being available. Multi-tasking is one of     the most shot-down notions in history, second only to doctors being paid     to recommend cigarettes in the 50s. Be present for your child in the times     you allocate as well as aware and supportive. If you can’t do that for set     periods of the day, it’s understandable - you may not have practiced it -     but this means, phones down, tv off and eye contact. Your child needs that     from you.

Watch     your tone - simple as this may sound, it’s important to recognise the way     you normally speak to your children and if there is negativity in it, be     mindful. Years of parents of evenings and home tuition have shown me that     a lot of parents speak to their children in never ending refrains that     have lost meaning. Explain that your both in a new situation and that     you’re only there to assist - you’re not in mummy or daddy mode.   

Delivering

This bit     is simple yet hard to master:

A) Take your child through something, then ask for understanding and a recap, then check understanding of all the parts of a task: ‘how many words will you write?’ ‘how long have you got left?’ ‘what’s the outcome? - if they don’t seem to understand, EXPLAIN IN A DIFFERENT WAY, repeat until they understand, or, let them explain to you and do the best you can with what you both understand. YOU ARE NOT BEING MARKED! Do you think children walk out of school understanding everything said in a classroom? (*keels over with laughter)

B) Focus on the task, complete task / lesson - review by looking to pick three positives. Ask the child where they would like to improve work and if it is specific to this task, or general in their work as a whole . End session with clear time to start the next session. This gives certainty, kids need routine and certainty (as do adults)

C) Do not do more than 30 Minutes in a block: 5-10 minutes to understand, the majority of the rest of the time to complete and feedback (Even if you feel your child can do 2 hours straight - segment after 30 minutes) Check for understanding and give feedback, feedback is everything - help them email work to school, or review with other parent, whatsapp friend or elder sibling - make sure the work they do is noted… if you did a report at work and no one gave a crap, how would you feel? It’s the same for a child with school work.

DO NOT     overcook praise, avoid all personal praise, and focus on action based     reward - ‘very clear’, ‘well explained’ ‘good demonstration’ - supportive     more than gushing - if you say something is ‘amazing’ on day 2 first     lesson, what will you do or say week 5?

Whatever     the subject, focus on skills they are using as much as subject material.     Getting through a ton of work badly is worse than honing a skill and     understanding the skill they are using in a very small section. Having     taught thousands of students in classrooms and hundreds more in private     tuition, I can tell you that students who know when to implement a     different skill will fare better overall.

As a very wide baseline for this (and one you can connect to) consider the following skills: Communicating (talking), Recalling (remembering), Observing (looking/reading), Researching (finding out) and Implementing (using) - breaking things down into the general skills so even though they may not complete or fully understand a piece of work, they are aware of the skills they are using and take confidence in that.

Expectation

Remember     you are holding the fort, assisting alongside school and in unbelievably     unfavorable conditions: your house! Students have routines in your homes     that will take some realigning - do not magically expect them to pick up     learning routines. If you feel guilty, you’re barking up the wrong tree,     it’s natural but false.

Progress     not perfection - if 3 of your sessions go well and 2 don’t fine - tomorrow     is another day, if one week feels easier than the next, so be it, fine -     if everything feels like a struggle - reach out, tell people, and simplify     what you’re doing. Reading and creating with anything of their hobbies and     interests that you're part of is great too, then see if you can divert     with a link: drawing a favourite film character, writing a prequel idea     for a favorite film, making jokes, taking pictures, whatever you have the     space to do.

Finally,     and most importantly, and this pretty much removes all the importance of     the above points: your relationship with them comes first - no matter what     you do, this should be a time to draw closer to your child as they'll need     you - if all the above goes out the window, so be it. Be there for them.     With my first child, I was writing TV shows from home so spent years her,     with my second child I was headteacher from when she was born to when she     was 3 and saw her for barely 2 hours a week.

This time with them now, for all that's going on - I utterly cherish and our relationship comes first. I hope yours does too.

[breathing-the-same-air]

So, I decided I'm gonna make a tutorial for self-learning new languages. Sounds strange but honestly I've found many people who would like to know a new language so, since I've had the experience of learning English all by myself, I thought maybe some of the tips that worked for me could work for you too so here we go. It will be long, but if you're really interested in learning it may (I hope) be worth it. 0. Introduction. Why learn a new language? There may be many reasons. Like when you need to go to another country and you have no choice but to learn a language, and in a few months you're able to understand and talk. But what if you just want to learn a new language by yourself, for no reason at all? Sometimes we like a language that may not be very useful, maybe one that isn't even spoken anymore. Learn anyway. New languages make the mind learn how to work in a new way, they open your thoughts to new possibilities and develop new abilities in all of you. You're never too old, nor to young, for learning a language. Children might be faster in their first years of life but the ability to create new neurological connections exists in everyone, at every age, all that matters is how willing to learn and make the effort needed you actually are. The first language you learn after your native language is always the hardest. The second is easier and so on, because not only your mind is better prepared, but you also have a wider vocabulary and many more grammar rules to relate what you learn to. So, if you're wondering if you should really start learning a new language, the answer is yes. Even if you have a crazy schedule, if you already study or work all day. There's always a little time for learning even one new word a day. And it will surprise you how refreshing it is for your mind and how happy the idea of coming home and learning something new will make you. It will take years, and if you expect it to be faster you will only feel very disappointed. But during these years you will be doing yourself such a favour, and you have nothing to lose. Many people spend most of their lives without learning anything new. You have the opportunity to go on with your everyday life and at the same time learn something that will make your life much richer. So don't try to hurry things up and don't give up at the first sign of difficulty. There will be difficult things to understand and all of the process will be slow. It only means it's worth it. If you're lucky enough to have a friend who speaks your language and is also a native speaker of the one you want to learn, you're half the way. They will be able to teach you the little things, the ones only a native speaker knows, and will make your practice become something funny and natural. So, if you've reached this part and still didn't get bored, I suggest you keep reading to find an easy and useful guide for self-learning languages. 1. First grammar rules, vocabulary and basis of the language. Find some online free websites for learning the language. Finding the right one for you might take a while. It depends on how well things are explained, and what kind of explanations fit the best to you. I've found a site for learning English quite easily, but for instance I've spent weeks looking for a good place where to learn Bahasa Indonesia (what having an Indonesian parabatai makes you do...). Sometimes even the combination of more than one website can be the right thing. At that point, you could just memorise things by reading one lesson at a time or, and I suggest you do, you could keep a notebook and write in it all you learn. Especially if the language uses a different alphabet from yours it will be useful at the beginning to have everything written down on a paper in a way that's understandable to you. 2. Reading Once you've learnt the basic grammar rules and have a vocabulary good enough, it would be a very good idea to start reading something. The first books have to be special though. Take the book you like the most, the one you've read a hundred times in your native language, and read that. Since you already know the story perfectly you will not worry about missing the meaning of some words so your mind will not get exhausted at the second line, and many words you will understand exactly because you already know what the line is supposed to mean. Don't get surprised if it takes months to finish the book, you’re reading in a foreign language it is supposed to be hard. Understand that your mind is learning all over again what most of the people learn only once in their lives. Read these kind of books, the ones you know well, all the times you want. After a long while, you will be able to read a new book, but this while might be years, so be patient. When you read a new book, it's also a good idea to have a translator or a dictionary near you to look for the words you don't know the meaning of. You may not remember all the words you learn from the first time you look them up but as you trip over them over and over again, there'll come a day when you will automatically get its meaning. Reading is to me one of the most useful things to do when you learn a language. The amount of grammar rules and expression you learn implicitly is astonishing. The language enters your mind without you even noticing, and it will come out the same way. 3. Writing This part comes a little bit after the reading one. It's inevitable. Reading is easier than writing, as well as listening is easier than speaking. Receiving is easier than giving, in a learning context. When you're ready, is anyway a good idea to get international friends. An amazing idea actually. Social networks like tumblr, for instance, are good because you can see other people interacting and get how communication has to be and, after a while, you can also start talking to some native speaker. Tell them you need practice, and ask them to correct you if you make a big mistake. Learning how to learn from your mistakes is one of the most important things in life. As for writing exercises like writing stories, articles and the like, you can try and write something whenever you want. But it will surely be easier when you already got some practice chatting with friends and talking about every day life things. 4. Listening One of the two last parts of the learning process which are, in fact, the hardest ones. Though I put it in fourth place, you don't have to wait for other things to be done before starting to practice. It can totally be one of the first things you do, whilst going on with the other parts of the learning process. Listen to the radio. Watch movies and shows. As for this, the same rule used with books is valid. Movies whose lines you know by heart will be easier and more useful than ones you've never seen. But either way, having the tv on with something in a foreign language, even if you're not really paying attention, even if you're not understanding every word, will make the sound of the language enter your unconscious mind. When you want to watch something and really get what people are saying, it's good to put on the subtitles in the language itself (like, if you want to learn English and are watching a movie in English, put on the English subtitles) because written languages are always easier to understand than spoken ones, basically because you probably learnt how to read and write first and better than how to talk. At some point you will only look at the images on the screen and avoid the subtitles and you'll get almost everything. At some point you will no longer need to put on the subtitles and you'll just understand. You may even be able to discern easily between the different accents of the language. Also, for listening practice, it's good to ask your native friends to send some voice note every now and then. They will most probably speak quickly and with a particular accent so you'll need to listen to the note at least twice before getting all the meaning, but yet it makes a good practice. 5. Speaking The last part. Here is where international friends become essential. Unless you go live or visit the place where the language is spoken, which of course would be the best you can do, but many of us don't have that possibility so we have to make do. There all you can do is practice, practice all the time. Sending voice notes to friends or making calls and videochats, and also talking to yourself when you're alone, singing songs or even trying to emule some of your favourite actors or actresses in their parts (that last one is silly, I know, but I always find it really funny to do it). Practice and never be shy. Don't be ashamed of your accent even if it's terrible. Don't be ashamed of the mistakes you make. This is valid also for when you write or whatever else. You will most probably find yourself saying 'sorry for my __English_ (insert here the language you're learning)' a thousand times. It's polite, I get it. I've said it myself more times than I can remember. But you actually have nothing to apologise for. You're learning a whole new language. Something most people could and would never do. Something usually people do only once in their lives. You're amazing. Your ability is amazing, and especially your perseverance, strength, patience and love for learning are amazing. 6. Abstract I have to admit I still don't know how the hell I got there, nor if someone will give a damn about this post. Anyway, if you liked it or found it useful, you can totally write to me if you have questions, if you want me to explain something I didn't write in the post, or if you just want to share your experience. I'm a native Spanish and Italian speaker and started learning English something like five years ago. In case you needed advice, want to make some practice or whatever, don't be shy, just write to me! I'd love to help you, I wrote this out of some sudden inspiration and it might be too short, or too long, or have missing points. Tell me whatever you think about it. Hope it was of some help, love and blessings for you all!!♡

[bambamramfan]

“protagonist, audience, and critics”

Last Dead Freddie post for a while (ie, recovering pieces of deBoer’s writing that were killed by his website hack). Mostly this was a really good piece about antiheroes in prestige television, and I wanted to endorse its good points, and engage with the fundamental errors of artistic criticism it has towards the end.

I’ll post my response later, since this is enough to read on its own.

Edit: the title of the post included the word “audience” not “author”, but either could work.

That the early parts of the Golden Age of Television were dominated by antiheroes is an idea that’s by now as cliché and tired as, well, the phrase “Golden Age of Television.” From Tony Soprano to Walter White to Don Draper to the various self-destructive cops and criminals in The Wire, the rise of high-production-values, critically-lauded narrative television was attended by stories told from the perspective of people who weren’t very nice. The essayist Brett Martin’s book on this period, in fact, was titled Difficult Men. In recent years, we’ve seen a growing diversity of perspectives on HBO and AMC and the like, with more racial and gender diversity, a greater range of themes and issues, and less reliance on the tropes of antihero fiction. Thankfully, for those of us who think that art should reflect the full diversity of human experience, the obsession with those difficult men seems to have subsided.

And yet I think that, as much as the antihero has been discussed to death in recent years, the concept could stand to be connected in a deeper way to a broader context: the tangled relationship between protagonists, the audience’s empathy for them, and the moral intent of the artists who create them.

Prestige TV – a term I find viscerally distasteful, but never mind – has famously engendered a cottage industry of analysis, recaps and reviews and explainers by the thousands. The structural incentives for such coverage is obvious; high-profile shows drive clicks for publications, and the regular episodic nature of television provides writers with steady work, a reliable income source of a kind that’s essential for the career of a freelancer. And though I’ve occasionally teased producers of this stuff – how many fresh takes, really, can there be on the same episodes of television, with dozens or hundreds of people doing it? – it’s good for art and for audiences for a robust critical conversation to occur alongside these shows. Not all of the takes will be novel, interesting, or convincing. (Indeed, given the nature of things, a majority won’t be.) But communally digging around and exploring in the text will often provide us with some useful insight.

And yet it’s important to remember that the vast majority of viewers of these shows won’t engage in the text in this way. I don’t just mean that most people who watch shows don’t write or read about them. I mean that, for the average viewer, the concept of treating a show as a kind of intellectual challenge, a puzzle to be disassembled and reassembled again, probably defies the point of watching in the first place. Distraction is a very valid reason for watching television, after all, and after coming home from a long day of work, many of us naturally want to turn off the analytical part of the brain and just enjoy the straight narrative of a given series. But what happens when the series is asking you to analyze? What happens when the basic moral work of the art you’re enjoying requires a deeper consideration of the tension between what’s depicted and what morals are intended?

I want to argue that the tension between fiction as entertainment and fiction as object of analysis – the difference between consuming a story straightforwardly and reading that story against the grain for more complex moral lessons – takes on added weight when so much of what’s depicted in our popular culture is not meant to be emulated or celebrated. I’m not trying to establish some sort of hierarchy of tastes here – the first purpose of art is to entertain, and no one should ever apologize for engaging with commercial art on the level of surface enjoyment. But the prevalence of antiheroes and immoral protagonists in contemporary narrative art leaves me profoundly nervous about the actual ethical impact of such work. There’s reason to believe that too many people are taking entirely the wrong lessons from the shows, video games, and movies they love.

YouTube clips from popular shows offer obvious, depressing examples of what I’m talking about. The Sopranos is exemplary in this regard. Hundreds of clips of Tony Soprano and various other bad actors on the show are presented as role models for life, their grim pursuit of (what they believe to be) their own self-interest and their capacity for violence valorized in video titles, descriptions, and comments. A particularly egregious example states that Tony tells it like it is when it comes to what really matters: family. The clip (since removed from YouTube, likely due to copyright issues) was of a self-aggrandizing Tony Soprano waxing on about the importance of family and how family members are the only ones you can really trust. This should be, to anyone with even a minimal knowledge of the show’s plot, a moment dripping with irony and indictment: Tony is comprehensively terrible to his family. He is a lousy father, a cheating husband, and a bullying and obnoxious sibling. He tries to kill his own mother and succeeds in killing his cousin and nephew. It’s hard to imagine a point more consistently established in the show than that Tony Soprano is an awful family man.

Yet such is the power of the protagonist (and the charisma of James Gandolfini) that the person who uploaded the video and dozens of commenters were convinced that Tony’s speech amounted to the show imparting a life lesson. And this general attitude, that Tony is someone to emulate rather than to despise, is replicated again and again online, with thousands of people taking his oafish violence, sexual aggression, and total indifference to the well-being of others as some sort of exemplar of masculine real-keeping. It’s here where the power of the protagonist is truly revealed, the way that simple depiction of a character’s point of view seems to overwhelm everything else we know about them. It’s as if the human power of identification is too strong, at least in art; we forgive in our protagonists things we know should never be forgiven in real life.

David Chase, the creator of the Sopranos, has talked about this frustrating tendency himself many times, betraying his irritation with audience members who seem intent on seeing the show as little more than a wish fulfillment fantasy for those who would like to be able to whack their annoying coworkers.

In another clip that’s favored by people looking to draw life lessons on masculinity, Mad Men’s Don Draper dispenses with a young rival at his advertising firm with a cutting putdown. “I feel sorry for you,” says gifted young copywriter Michael Ginsberg. “I don’t think about you at all,” replies Draper, asserting his masculine dominance via the Principle of Least Interest. In an age when “giving no fucks” is taken as a Zen-like state of effortless superiority, this is the ultimate alpha male moment. The clip is summarized by the person who uploaded it: “Don Draper puts Michael Ginsberg in his place. He’s still the boss.”

Except that the show has gone out of its way, that entire episode, to demonstrate that Draper is thinking about Ginsberg. Incessantly. Over and over, the episode establishes that Don can’t stop thinking about Ginsberg and the threat he represents. It’s a classic tale of the wounded pride of an aging worker who feels threatened by the younger, sharper, hungrier counterpart. Sure, Don looks cool when he dismisses Ginsberg. But the limits of looking cool is one of the most relentlessly depicted themes in Mad Men, all of the sharply tailored suits and gorgeous midcentury modern design hiding alcoholism, bigotry, and failed relationships. The essential dramatic tension of the show lies in contrasting Don Draper the myth with Don Draper the reality. During the sixth season, when the character devolved deeper into addiction and failure, his façade of control and professional mastery slipping away, many devoted viewers complained that they wanted “the old Don” back – the cool, sexy, invulnerable Don. But in doing so, they were denying the central message of the show, the essential point both in plot terms and thematically: Don Draper does not exist. The ideal is not possible. Both the man himself and the icons he represents are myths. To see the show as simply a depiction of a gorgeous and powerful figure of old guard masculinity means denying its most obvious thematic message.

Reflecting on the divide between authorial signaling and audience interpretation through the example of Walter White of Breaking Bad – a truly reprehensible figure – Isaac Butler writes,

With Breaking Bad, the major, unresolved issue was the character of Walter White. What sort of man was he? And how were we supposed to feel about him? And how did the creators feel about him?…

For many watching Breaking Bad, Walter White was in a morality play, and thus would be sufficiently punished by the time the finale concluded. For an odious group known as Team Walt, Breaking Bad was wish fulfillment, and Walter would in some way be rewarded for his awesomeness. For another group—one I belonged to—Walter was the anti-hero protagonist of a classical tragedy.

A classical tragedy, that is, in the sense that the point is not the Manichean moralism of an episode of Law and Order SVU but the challenge of seeing our own potential flaws in a work of art, to better understand ourselves. What troubles Butler is the show’s moral relationship to its own characters and its audience, and in particular those who are bent on seeing genuinely evil characters as badass instead of bankrupt. And the question I constantly ask myself is whether, in a culture that has so habitually depicts violence as cool and cathartic, that group will always outnumber those who respond to violence with horror.

The point is not that we should take some sort of blanket critical approach to protagonists, but that we should recognize the complexity and nuance in their depiction. The critical reaction to Fight Club shows how both an unthinking acceptance of protagonist behavior, and an overactive judgment of same, can both sand away the subtleties that are essential a movie. Yes, indeed, there are far too many “How to Be As Cool as Tyler Durden” articles and videos online. (Step one: look as good as Brad Pitt circa 1999.) The phenomenon of fans of that movie or book over-identifying with Tyler Durden and the narrator has come in for some deserved mockery, with many pointing out that starting your own fight club – or, even worse, your own Project Mayhem – is a ridiculous exercise, one that clearly misses the satirical and critical aspects of the story. (You should make your own soap, though, it’s fun.) The entire second half of the film depicts the narrator’s gradual realization that he has become involved in something far more destructive than he imagined.

Yet it would be easy to fall too far on the other side of the equation, and to see the narrator’s distaste for the triviality and consumerism of contemporary American life as itself pathological instead of natural. Yes, the violent nihilism he and his alter ego develop in response to that culture is childish and ineffective, but we shouldn’t take that to mean that the world of corporate speak, consumerist conformity, and IKEA aren’t worth rejecting. It means that part of the point of the narrative is precisely the difficulty in channeling legitimate distaste for the way things are into productive avenues.

The last shot of the movie, pregnant with emotional power, demonstrates the closest thing to a message for how to actually live in the film: finding a partner who is equally willing to look past your own flaws to navigate a world that seems bent on destroying the things that make us feel authentically human. Endorsing the romantic ideal as a potential cure for modern disaffection isn’t particularly novel, but the execution of getting there strikes me as the basic point, the recognition of the seduction of nihilism and its impediments to real human connection. You don’t have to think the movie pulls that off, mind you – many people don’t – but failing to really parse out the nuances of the film’s relationship to its protagonist means missing its artistic foundations. The presumption that depiction means endorsement kills drama.

The film and TV writer Matt Zoller Seitz, a great critic who sometimes strikes me as too concerned with whether the films he reviews conform to contemporary liberal social norms, demonstrated the perils of a certain politicized literalism in how we treat the prerogatives of the protagonist when reviewing last year’s Ghostbusters reboot. In contrast to the workaholic women of the newer film, he chastises the original film’s leading character, Bill Murray’s Peter Venkmann, as “a deadpan hipster who fakes most of the knowledge he claims to have,” complaining that he is part of “a long tradition of anti-authority posturing by straight white male characters who act as if the world’s indifference to their happiness is a personal affront.” But what, exactly, is the alternative that Seitz would prefer? That Venkmann conform to the stuffy dictates of elite academia, which he (accurately) sees as full of bullshit? Become a Company Man, another Reaganite yuppie content to play within the system without irony? Yes, it’s definitely true that women and other marginalized groups have traditionally had less ability to subvert the social and economic structures around them. But the response to that should not be to insist that everyone play by the rules, but that we spread the privilege Venkmann enjoys to everyone. It’s a strange form of progressivism that would compel a movie character to drop his sardonic critique of the way things are and get to work on those TPS reports already.

More to the point, if Venkmann was more of a tryhard game-player, going along with the conventional plan, Ghostbusters wouldn’t be much of a movie. Of course there’s a lot of male fantasy in the original Ghostbusters; the question is whether showing such a fantasy for enjoyment necessarily entails seeing the fantasy as a goal worth pursuing. Again, there’s an implicit assumption that artistic depiction presumes that the audience should want to emulate the protagonist. Comedy is full of smirking subversives not because everyone should act like those characters – no one is that clever or funny, and not everyone can be an iconoclast – but because everyone recognizes the need for subversion, the steady drumbeat of absurdities and indignities piled on us by the systems around us.

(Seitz also, incidentally, claims that Murray’s character has an attitude of “The only part of this that excites me is the prospect of getting laid by a demon-possessed Sigourney Weaver,” despite the explicit plot point of a possessed Weaver propositioning Murray and him turning her down, which seems remarkably uncharitable for a thoughtful critic like Seitz.)

The power of identification in art leads to bad political readings of music as well. In recent years, the Beatles tune “Run For Your Life” has been singled out as #PROBLEMATIC for its threatening message to the unnamed romantic partner in the song. (This is made somewhat more disturbing by the fact that John Lennon, the song’s author and singer, admitted to abusing his wife, which is of course inexcusable.) The lyrics are indeed disturbing. What’s strange is the belief that the song, or people who enjoy it, are somehow endorsing threats or violence against women. Depiction is not endorsement, not even in music, perhaps the art form we are most likely to feel intimately inside of ourselves. Lennon felt things that would be rightfully impermissible to express directly. That’s precisely why he embedded them in his music. To argue for the legitimacy of the song as art is no more an endorsement of violence against women than singing the praises of Lolita is an endorsement of pedophilia.

The prevalence of obsession and possessiveness in songs about love reveals one of the cherished functions of art: to depict that which is human that cannot be defended by the rational mind. We are, after all, animals. We remain defiantly irrational creatures. We lust, we feel jealousy, we fantasize, we yearn for revenge, we imagine ourselves as beings of impossible power, and we do it all out of proportion with what is reasonable. My conscious mind, which is what guides my behavior, wants to be a loving and respectful partner to someone, a partner that recognizes the autonomy and independence of that someone and reacts to their adult desires for space and time apart appropriately. My emotional self is filled with an unjustifiable need to possess. That is not an attempt to rationalize or defend jealous romantic behaviors in a relationship. It is a statement of the permanent irrationality of human emotions.

When Nicki Minaj releases a music video depicting herself as a fascist dictator, to considerable controversy, her critics are misunderstanding the basic nature of fantasy. Who hasn’t imagined themselves, at times, in a position of autocratic power? We can pretend that such fantasies don’t exist, thanks to their obvious political problems, or we can express them in art where they do less harm. When Selena Gomez depicts herself as a stalker breaking into a celebrity’s home in a music video, she’s not romanticizing actual stalking but exploring the animal intensity of human emotion and its uncomfortable outcomes in truly obsessive behaviors. Romantic obsession is a commonplace in music because it is in music where those powerful, ubiquitous human emotions can be explored safely.

The contemporary attitude that we must run all of our thoughts and feelings through a political litmus test before we express them in art simply means that many shared thoughts and feelings will go undiscussed. The heart is not woke, and it never will be, and to remove that which is unconsciously felt but consciously impermissible from art simply leaves us less aware of the human condition. Worse, such a condition leaves us bereft of the kind of understanding we need to navigate our tangled feelings for the Tony Sopranos – the ability to recognize that the power fantasies we might enjoy while watching such characters are natural, but that actually valorizing those behaviors is contrary to the public good.

I’m not too worried that the average viewer will take up a life of crime in emulation of Tony Soprano and Walter White, though I cringe to think of how such unthinking appreciation of them deepens the association between masculinity and the capacity for violence. I’m far more worried about our continued inability to recognize the ethical failings of the wealthy and the system that empowers them. Our culture is rife with depictions of wealth that straightforwardly valorize money and those who have it, the shameless promotion of luxury on HGTV and celebrity gossip magazines. Lots of movies and television shows attempt to correct for that by showing the moral rot and personal destruction underneath all that ostentation. But sometimes, the depiction of wealth and glamour is so emotionally compelling that the critical and satirical elements are undone. This is the Wolf of Wall Street conundrum.

I have no doubt that Martin Scorsese and the others involved in the production of the film intended to indict Jordan Belfort and his actions. But I don’t think they achieved such an indictment artistically. When the film’s defenders argue that it was intended as a critical depiction, they’re defending intent rather than execution, which is no more useful than defending a film’s intent at realism, emotional catharsis, humor, or drama. Scorsese’s work has always drawn from the productive tension between how arresting his characters are and how destructive their behavior is. At its best, this leads to a kind of fascinated revulsion, the way that Travis Bickle is both a contemptible figure and an impossibly magnetic one, the light in which the glamor and cool of Howard Hughes in The Aviator were cast by the intensity of his mental illness. For me, The Wolf of Wall Street simply didn’t provoke that same queasiness; the cars were too fast, the suits too well-tailored, the women too hot, the glee on the part of Jordan Belfort too palpable. The intent may have been satirical, but a cursory examination of the internet’s collective opinion on the film shows that for many of its ardent fans, its effect was salutary. And we really don’t need more affection for Wall Street sharks.

You can, of course, argue that Fight Club fails in the same sense, or that Wolf of Wall Street actually achieves its critical intent. At some level we are simply talking about differing subjective takes on the quality of different works of fiction. And you might well ding me for arguing both ways at once – saying that audiences need to do the work of excavating implied critiques of protagonist behavior and also that creators have a responsibility to make those critiques apparent. If nothing else, I am saying that the role of the protagonist seems to inspire deep sympathy regardless of the actions depicted, particularly over the very long haul afforded by a television series, to a degree that many artists seem unprepared for. I imagine this power is even more compelling in video games, where the player literally directs the main character through the story, occupying their point of view. And in a critical world where more and more people are explicitly subordinating aesthetics to politics – where more and more critics are erasing any distinction at all between a work’s aesthetic value and its perceived effectiveness in delivering progressive political morals – the relationship between what is depicted and what lessons are imparted become even more fraught, more pregnant with meaning. We should take care with such things.

The sophisticate’s take on this question has typically been to insist that no artist should be held to account for the misreading of their audience, and of course I agree, in a limited sense. Still, I am at this point profoundly ambivalent towards the concept of the antihero or unsympathetic protagonist in art. These tropes have been mined to great effect for centuries in various artistic genres and media, and I value much of that work. But the consistency with which devoted fans of antihero fiction completely miss the thematic purpose of that fiction makes it hard for me to enjoy it, these days. Authorial intent is, obviously, contested and uneasy ground, and getting invested in parsing it rarely a productive activity. But I cannot help but observe the frequency with which implied moral positions in contemporary artwork seem to completely bypass large parts of their audiences, often to the point of leaving them with the exact opposite lesson that was seemingly intended.

Perhaps, then, the exhaustion with antiheroes and flawed protagonists came at just the right time. Perhaps the fad fizzled out when it most needed to. There will always be antiheroes, and I will no doubt find myself following with interest the stories of protagonists who are not good people. But simple depictions of flawed characters attempting to do their best for others and acting in ways we associate with morality seems like fertile ground. Hell, at this point, the story of good people doing good might seem downright subversive.

[ecotone99]

[SF] Outside

It was a roll of the dice that changed the world, heralding the end of what we'd lovingly call the Last Great Era. As far as our best minds can tell, had the genetic sequence finished A-G-T instead of G-A-T then SARS-CoV-2, the Coronavirus -- covy to the likes of you and me -- would have gone down in the history books as nothing more than an unexplained and short-lived lethargy observed in populations of domesticated pig.

From where I'm sat on my formafoam couch, staring blankly at a wall-filling Standard Display that's doing it's best to convince me I'm in the Austrian Alps, it's pretty clear that at some point, one-hundred and fifty-six years ago, God decided to try his hand at playing dice.

My job feed terminal chimes a flutter of cheerful bells that have no doubt been crafted to coax a dopamine response from whoever hears it. The irony isn’t lost on me as I drag its screen towards me, the articulating tube that it’s mounted to squeaking in a way that sets my teeth on edge. The chimes are somewhat discordant with the work that’s on offer. Data cleaning. Three petabytes; immediate start.

It’s the kind of grunt work I’ve come to expect and I’m used to it now. I figure it’s pretty much what the old sanitation workers used to do back in the Great. Y’know, those guys and girls who cleaned the streets. But instead of cleaning up after someone who couldn’t be bothered to find an appropriate refuse point, I’m cleaning up after a group of Domain dev-heads who couldn’t be bothered to dee-com their redundant broadcast nodes.

I know what it’s going to be: four hours of gloves-on, elbow-deep groping through the Domain’s equivalent of a corporation's asshole. If I’m lucky, I’ll spot the nodes that are tainting the rest of the data and filter them out with one or two partial intelligences I’ve got hanging around that just love this kinda work.

I reach over to the job terminal keyboard, worn predictably blank by too many keystrokes and even more routine. I click accept.

Did they know? Back in the Great? When this all started? I’ve watched pretty much everything the 21st century had to offer. News bulletins, parliamentary debates, documentaries, exposé’s, talk shows, comedies. You name it. Hell, I even watched a bunch of Domain advertisements to try and gauge sentiment. I’ve run them through every iteration and permutation of socioeconomic simulation I can imagine. I even managed to call, well, trade in a favour and run my sims on the tertiary adjunct to my local unimatrix. That's big boy's toys. Cost me almost eight minutes to tell me what I already knew.

But did they know it would lead to this? The real people of the time. It’s a splinter. A piece of grit under the skin, whatever that feels like. No matter how many times I run the sims, no matter how many trillion facets of life I emulate; no matter how mundanely accurate I try to model things, they will always be just that. Models. Simulations. Eerily accurate approximations of what went before, but approximations nonetheless. I’ll never, truly know what it felt like to be there. To feel the tug of history all around you. Feel the weight of the machine of State grind its massive gears whilst being helpless to resist. The fear. The hope. The isolation.

The Outside.

That infinite blue sky. The endless chatter of birds. The smell of so much green. It’s a drug. One that we can’t live without; one that we can’t live within. When covy hit, the industrialised world was slow to respond. But eventually reality won out around the globe, and even the most orange-faced effluent-geysers couldn’t pass off the rising body count as ‘fake news’. So we went indoors. And there we stayed for what must have seemed like an eternity at the time but was, in retrospect, a three month weekend compared to what came next.

Well, if I was being accurate I’d say ‘what three things came next’. And since I’ve got enough EdMerits to make me a social scientist, and the fact I spend most of my life in a windowless box with roughly 50 square metres of floor space, I’m going to be accurate. Humour my inner, failed, academic if you will:

Firstly, and best I can tell, the people’s imagination was captured when an innocent post from an emissions monitoring company posted about how much the air pollution had dropped over mainland China since their lockdown. I mean, it's fine now, but back then the state of the environment had people worried. I guess this is the part where some commentators call it things like zeitgeist.

Second thing was the Great Ingress of 2020 and the subsequent transformation of all commercial activities to Domain-compatible. Everything went digital after covy, fuelled by the primitive proxies for presence that folk back then put up with; flat, low quality streams and pathetic audio. Apparently all we needed to do was see a smile and that made the world feel just right.

And finally covy’s mutation, bifurcation and subsequent mutations. This was the kicker. With the combined brainpower and focus of the entire freaking planet, we were churning out vaccines and antigens faster than ever before and solving a whole bunch of other, minor problems along the way. Like Ebola, HIV and even the common cold all fell to the medical onslaught. But covy? Nah. Every time we knocked her down three more of her would get up and start swinging back.

My terminal gives me another hope-filled chime, breaking my brood to tell me I’m halfway through my job download and I’ll be able to start working in ‘less than five minutes’. Another irony that’s not lost on me. Time is what I’m working for. One of the more subtle changes that worked their way in since the Great. I’ve read a bunch of lit’ from back then, too. Time is money they used to say. But they got the emphasis wrong. Time is money. It’s the ultimate currency and the cheapest commodity; everybody’s got some to give. Over the years it surpassed every other natural or manufactured resource to become the lifeblood of our metastasized economic system. But I, and a couple billion others spend our time gladly to get some outside.

Outside.

They took it for granted back then. Couldn’t they see? The gradual restrictions in movement. Why didn't they resist? The control over who you can meet. They could have stopped this. Forcing you to communicate digitally. Reducing the places you can go to. Controlling what you can buy and how much. Even taking on the job of paying you for your work. It was the largest coordinated peacetime high jacking of a civilization in history. But they did it with some serious freaking deftness. I’m talking a subtlety of manoeuvring that’d make an Icer weep. And those guys don’t make face salt easy. I mean the sharing of resources is one thing. Yeah, we’re all people under one banner and that kind of crap. International cooperation must have been a huge morale boost to the cats getting used to their cages. And when the third strain came out and we gladly, globally signed off on consolidating national powers, oversight and coordination to an international body, well the United Nations would have looked like the perfect fit.

Desperate times, I guess. And no one back then could have seen the fifty years of misdirection and positioning that had taken place, infiltrating what should have been the highest, most benevolent authority we had. So we handed them the keys and a full tank of gas. And a century and a half later, I’m sitting here in a thermosteel block called 'home' a mile off the ground with around twenty thousand other gen-pops trying to scratch out a living for… For what? A slightly larger box near the ground floor, where you get real outside breeze? Maybe I’ll get a Workers Union promotion and move to a whole new tower, even. Or stay here and save some more. What was it they used to say? ‘Do some travelling’. Ha!

I bring up the job details, my fingers navigating the screen subconsciously. I select the title and expand the details. Data cleaning required for three petabyte facility management control system. Blah. Alphabet Enterprises. has a fantastic opportunity. Blah; everything’s AE in this part of the world. I keep scrolling, listening to the emulated ambience of the alpine sublime about me, my eyes absently searching for the paragraph I’m looking for.

Remuneration: 00:18:00

Eighteen minutes. Of pure outside. To spend how I like. And I can take it in advance. If I add that to the two hours thirty I’ve tucked away over the past couple of months then I may just have enough...

I switch my attention from the terminal to the Standard Display. It senses my intent and brings up a chat box with my most recently contacted first. I scroll down a little past the recent work-related calls I’ve had to make until I see a name and user id that’s almost as familiar as seeing a face. Nervous, I open a line, speaking to the room and letting the chat intelligence do the whole talk-to-type thing; speaking and writing are different things, and will always be it seems. I sound like me, but it’s not how I speak.

Things have changed. Just got some time. Let's go for a walk. Now.

I send the message. It’s abrupt, I know. But real walks are. And I don’t have a huge amount of time to play with. I know I’m gonna have to split the time between the two of us if I’m to even have a chance of executing my plan. But that’s why I saved. That’s why I spent all these months wallowing in the crud. All for this. Now is the time.

Before I let my doubts get the best of me, I look down at the antique, silver-and-diamond ring nestled in the cushion of an old, threadbare velvet case. Allowing myself a rare smile of something that feels more genuine and real and meaningful than anything in this world, I send a follow-up:

Don’t worry, babe. The walk’s on me.

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[fitono]

A Letter to My Younger Self: Five Lessons from 10 Years of Personal Training

Ten years in any profession is a milestone. That seems especially true of personal training, where it’s too easy to feel good or bad about the way your career is going.

Are you a success because your schedule is fully booked, and you make a nice living? Or are you a disappointment because everywhere you look on social media you see men and women doing awesome things to make money and get attention?

I don’t want to pretend I have everything figured out. But after 10 years as a trainer, group fitness instructor, mentor, and master instructor for two leading health club brands, and after 15,000 training sessions and 2,000 group classes, I’ve learned a lot of things I wish I’d known when I was starting out.

Since I can’t go back in time to offer this wisdom to my younger self, I’ll share it here, with the hope that you can benefit from my good, bad, and painfully average experiences.

Lesson #1: You Never Want to Be the Best in the Room

It’s easy to stand out if you can’t see your competition. It’s even easier to assume you’ve mastered your craft when there’s no immediate way to measure yourself against your peers.

My moment of truth came when I got picked as a finalist for Next Top Trainer, an online reality show created by Men’s Health magazine. (It’s like Top Chef, only with fitness pros. You can see the first episode here.) I strolled into the competition thinking I had as good a shot at first prize—a contract to do a workout DVD—as any of the seven guys I was up against.

Then the competition started, and I learned that, for all my education and certifications and experience with clients, my physical conditioning wasn’t close to theirs. Andy Speer, the eventual winner, was in the best shape of any human I had ever seen—until a year later, when I once again got picked as a finalist. Even with a full year to train for it, I couldn’t come close to matching up with Gideon Akande, the season-two champion.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was crushed. But my comeuppance could’ve happened any number of ways. If I’d focused on my conditioning instead of logging all those hours with clients, and accumulating credentials, I might’ve gotten put in my place by a trainer whose experience dwarfed mine, or a boss who expected me to know things I hadn’t bothered to learn.

The lesson for my younger self?

You need to be overmatched from time to time in your career, even if it means you’re the worst in the room. Embrace these harsh lessons. You can’t be great until you know what greatness looks like.

Lesson #2: If You Fake It, You Won’t Make It

The more time you spend in the fitness industry, the more you see what you don’t yet have. Look off in one direction, and you see incredible-looking people who can do incredible things and whose incredible marketing skills bring them legions of followers and more money than you ever imagined anyone could make in this field.

Look in another direction and you see coaches who seek none of this. When they aren’t in the gym with their clients, they’re creating content that gets shared by everyone you know, or doing seminars and presentations that your peers will pay hundreds of dollars and travel thousands of miles to soak up.

Most of us will fall somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, trying to emulate the work ethic of the top coaches while we borrow some moves from the top marketers.

But to move forward as a confident personal trainer, you need to pick a lane. Unsure which lane that is? It’s time to have a tough, honest conversation with yourself. Who are you? What do you do well? What don’t you do well?

If you’re in the industry for the right reasons—you genuinely want to help people look, move, and feel better—you’ll have plenty of opportunities to move forward. You may even get a moment or two in the spotlight.

When you do, you may find, as I did, that you don’t really belong there.

I know that because, in addition to my two shots on Next Top Trainer, I appeared in a handful of independent films and music videos, made a cameo in a popular political drama, and got more than my share of attention in local media.

That was who I wanted to be, but it wasn’t who I was meant to be.

My real purpose was right in front of me all along. As a book nerd, I take pride in mastering the complex, distilling it down, and sharing it with trainers who’re just starting their careers. That’s what I’ve focused on since then.

The lesson for my younger self?

Once you find your lane, stay in it, and move forward as fast as your abilities allow.

  READ ALSO: What I Learned from 15,000 Training Sessions in a Commercial Gym

Lesson #3: There’s More to Life than Fitness

Success in any field involves sacrifice. In my case, a successful training career meant foregoing a lot of the things that, to most people, make life worth living. That’s what happens when you dedicate most of your billable hours to actually billing clients.

For years I teetered on the brink of burnout. It finally caught up with me in the winter of 2016.

From the outside, I was the same hard-working, high-achieving trainer—a personable guy with a nice income who’d just begun a relationship with a wonderful person who shared my passions and dreams.

But on the inside, I was numb. I turned into a zombie the minute I left work. My psyche was like a house of cards on a windy day. Even worse, I had an overwhelming urge to take a wrecking ball to everything I had and start over again. Doing what, I didn’t know. Nor did I care. Anything seemed better than the objectively wonderful things I had.

Instead of blowing up my life and career, I did what a coach should do: I hired a coach. More specifically, I went to a counseling professional who helped me sort through my messy thoughts, habits, and unhealed wounds.

It was refreshing to be the client for once. I’d put everyone else’s issues ahead of my own, and now I was taking on my own problems—exactly what I would’ve advised anyone else to do.

Since then I’ve taken up a new fitness pursuit, boxing, for no reason other than I feel better when I do it. But even more important, I’ve learned to say no—to clients, to projects, and to my own most self-defeating urges.

The lesson for my younger self?

I’m the last guy to say you can be successful without ever making a tough choice. It takes a lot of work to build and maintain a full schedule of clients. Sometimes you have to take on additional projects that take you way out of your comfort zone.

Just don’t sacrifice family, friends, and relationships to pull it off. It’s okay to take a Saturday off. It’s okay to train clients early in the morning or late at night, but never both.

It’s okay to make a little less money, or skip an occasional workout, or indulge in an unplanned cheat meal, if it makes someone else happy, and creates memories you can share.

Lesson #4: Don’t Wear Your Clients

Let me tell you a story about one of my tougher clients. He wanted to lose weight around his midsection, but he needed a complete overhaul. A career behind a desk had left him not just fat, but also immobile and dangerously weak in the core and posterior chain. I explained this to him, but all he wanted to do was straight sets of bench presses, followed by accessory work for his shoulders and arms.

He complained about the elevated kettlebell deadlifts for his posterior chain, and flat-out refused to do any mobility and stability work. He scoffed at anything that made him sweat, even as I urged and pleaded with him to pick up his pace.

Sixteen weeks in, when he griped about his inability to lose weight and how my program included things he didn’t “love,” we decided to part ways.

And boy, am I glad we did.

Every session felt like an emotional fistfight over dominance in the relationship. While he openly complimented my credentials, he wasn’t ready to give up control to someone 30 years younger. Nor was he ready to change his diet or lifestyle. Once he decided it was a contest, he wasn’t going to lose.

The lesson for my younger self?

Personal training is by definition personal, but when a client starts to affect you personally, choose your own mental health over his physical fitness. You can always fill that slot on your schedule with someone who doesn’t make you miserable.

  READ ALSO: Five Ways to Deal with a Client Who Challenges You

Lesson #5: There’s No Deadline to Find a Niche

Just about every brand-name fitness pro you look up to, and hope to emulate, has a definable fitness niche. Whether it’s athletes, physique competitors, expectant or postpartum mothers, seniors, or something even more specific, every trainer feels the need to claim a market as his own.

You may already have a niche in mind, based on your background, or a personal connection to a population you want to work with, or a problem you believe you were put on earth to help clients solve.

And that’s fine. Keep that passion. But don’t rush to specialize. It’s far more important to develop a well-rounded training philosophy, based on principles that apply to anyone you might someday be paid to train. Every well-known fitness pro I can think of honed her craft working with general-population clients before finding the niche we all know about.

The science that drives our field is universal. Once you learn the science, figure out how to apply it in your training, and build a solid foundation of experience, you open yourself to far more opportunities than you’ll have if you specialize early and limit yourself to a small population of clients in a handful of locations. The more narrow your focus, the harder it will be to support yourself.

The lesson for my younger self?

Learn everything you can. It’s all relevant, and I guarantee you’ll find ways to apply it.

Final Thoughts

A personal-training career is different from just about any other. Even when you work for a brand, you’re expected to be your own boss. You have rules to follow and quotas to meet, but it’s up to you to build your clientele, and it’s your clients who motivate you to wake up early or stay up late. The chance to change lives, including your own, is what drives you.

But once you start driving, you just don’t know where you’ll go, how soon you’ll get there, or what you’ll find when you arrive.

If I could go back 10 years and give my younger self just one piece of advice, it would probably be something like this:

Enjoy the ride. Sure, you’re going to hit some rough spots, and you’ll have to white-knuckle your way through them. But every now and then, take your foot off the accelerator, look around, and enjoy the view.

I sure wish I had.

    The post A Letter to My Younger Self: Five Lessons from 10 Years of Personal Training appeared first on The PTDC.

A Letter to My Younger Self: Five Lessons from 10 Years of Personal Training published first on https://medium.com/@MyDietArea

[bestmovies0]

The Teen Taking Back Practical Jokes From YouTubes Bros

In a YouTube landscape dominated by entitled teen boys, problematic dorks, Instagram simulates trading on sex appeal, and vloggers who will literally stage fake acid onslaughts for beliefs, talented young inventors are often overlooked.

But Elle Mills, a 19 -year-old from Ottawa, Canada, is quickly making a epithet for herself as one of YouTube’s most hilarious young stars.

Her stunt comedy has led her to do things like hurl herself a procession, stage a funeral, steal her brother’s identity, disguise in his closet overnight, astonish her mommy with tattoos, and more. Her videos have garnered over 75 million views and she lately excelled 1 million customers on YouTube.

But one thing Mills imagines a lot about as she scales her channel is the ethics of prank culture.

When developing an audience on YouTube there’s a natural tension between what the fuck is get you raw views and what content will grow your brand responsibly, and Mills said she often toes that line.

” Where you draw the line is something that’s been on my psyche a lot for the past month or two ,” Mills said.” The thing about prank culture on YouTube is that it’s so driven by numbers and beliefs. It’s something where you can understand why people do stuff that gets them in hassle .”

Mills said she has wanted to become a famous YouTuber since before she can remember.

Growing up in Canada, she chased her family around with a video camera, made webcam skits with her friends, and eventually get her own first camera and a laptop with video editing software. She worshipped early YouTube superstars like Grace Helbig and Kian Lawley.

Mills spent hours teaching herself to hit and cut videos, but it wasn’t until soon after she graduated high school in 2016 that she decided to try to do it full time.

At the time, she didn’t threw herself on camera much. Instead, she spliced together Tv prove and movie trailers into short comedic remixes. Her first viral hit came in the fall of 2016 when she recut the Stranger Things trailer to look like a romantic slapstick. The video raked in hundreds of thousands of views on YouTube and Twitter.

The hit was enough to convince Mills that she could pursue YouTube full day. She fell out of college at the end of that semester in order to start a regular vlogging schedule.

She said the decision was tough. Her household had expected her to be used to her father’s footsteps and pursue a career in business. But Mills said she knew that it merely wasn’t a fit.

Eventually, her mothers got on board with her decision and only a couple months ago, in March of 2017, she had her first video go viral. It featured her interviewing her friend’s Tinder dates.

Nearly a year later, she has become a top YouTuber in her category, developed a network of famous influencer friends, come out as bisexual in a headline-making video, and lives a hectic life full of weekly adventures. In June 2017 Mills signed with Fullscreen, a social-first entertainment network for digital influencers and rising talent.

As Mills has grown, she’s tried to steer clear of the type of dangerous and offensive pranks vloggers have become known for. She said she aspires to set a more positive instance for her fans–while still having fun.

” With pranks you always have to think bigger, better, what’s not been done ,” Mills said.

But unlike many of her peers, including Loganand Jake Paul, she still lives at home with her momma and an legion of friends who look out for her best interests.

” I find that sometimes I feel like I almost intersected the line for positions. I come up with suggestions like,’ This is insane! No one has in the past done this before !’ But I’m lucky to have family and friends who say,’ Hey, that intersects the line. You shouldn’t do that ,'” she said.

” The people you find on the news, they don’t have people in their lives telling them what’s up .”

Still, Mills said there are definitely pranks on her channel she wouldn’t do again.

Her biggest sadnes was flying to Vegas and legally marriage her sister’s boyfriend for a vlog. She’s still technically married to him. Dealing with the fallout has been challenging.

” I’m trying to get onto cancelled ,” she said,” but it’s a lot harder than it seems. I did it for a joke. I’ve always been the person in my friend group where it was like,’ Oh, Elle will be the last to get married ,’ so the gag was like, haha I’m gonna be first.

” But divorce sucks. It’s a lot of money ,” she said.” My sister is still dating him. I was envisioning, I need to top myself, I need to top everything I’ve ever done. But I’m dealing with repercussions .”

Mills said she’s also held to different standards than boys on YouTube. She said it can be easier for young men to succeed in slapstick on YouTube because a lot of the audience is comprised of teen daughters, who idolize their teen vlogger crushes, and young teen sons, who want to emulate them.

Mills said she hopes to follow in the footsteps of other successful female creators like Liza Koshy, Lilly Singh, and Colleen Ballinger, who the hell is judged more on their comedic ability than appearing.

” These are people who don’t do the beauty guru thing but have great online existence and are doing wonderful things ,” Mills said.” I’m seeing more and more wives YouTubers rising and it’s sick. It’s nice to see a progression from how “its been” five to 10 years ago .”

While YouTube is Mills’ dreaming occupation, like many other vloggers, it wasn’t long before she realized that current realities of being a YouTube star is far from rainbows and sunshine.

Mills maintains a penalize schedule in order to put out her weekly videos, and often merely takes off one day or less per week.

From Tuesday through Sunday she frantically draws together video notions, acquires props, stages her plan, and shoots.

” Saturday and Sunday I spend editing like a crazy mad person, doing voice overs and material. Monday, I post ,” she said.

Despite the intimacy of the platform, Mills said it can be lonely sometimes and her profession has no doubt taken a toll on her mental health.

In a recent video titled” Dear Viewer ,” Mills revealed that she struggles behind the scenes.

” My family life is very complicated. The reality that my daddy and my oldest sister aren’t in my videos because we don’t get along ,” she said stimulates her sad.” The reality that every video causes me an unhealthy amount of stress. The reality that I put so much pressure on myself that I unplug. The reality that I envision everything I construct isn’t good enough and the fact that I scream every week because it’s a never-ending cycle.

” The best lane I can describe what I’m going through ,” Mills said,” is like having to go through kindergarten through college in one nighttime and being expected to get straight As and not let anyone down .”

Mills took three weeks off last month and has already seen changes. During her hour away, she visited several other well-known vlogger friends in Los Angeles and find the trip restorative.

” I ultimately realized that not everything I attain “re gonna be all” perfect, and that’s OK ,” she said.

Mills said she eventually hopes to move to Los Angeles herself, but is still working out the logistics.

” It’s kind of hard because a lot of my content is organized around my family and friends in Ottawa ,” she said.

Mills is undoubtedly living a movie star life, even in Ottawa. She still gets a rush when she’s recognized at the local mall.

” I haven’t been in it for long, but this is what I’ve learned so far ,” she said in a video named” If My Life Was a Movie .”

” Brands pay lane too much fund. Like, a ludicrous amount. It’s no joke when someone says this, but every YouTuber has slept with every YouTuber, and you know those YouTube conventions? That’s where they do it. There’s so much drama that it constructs you think you’re in high school again and YouTubers love to party more than they love to promote merch .”

Still, Mills feels like it’s all been worth it.

” I’ve been a YouTube fan for so long ,” she said,” it’s just chill hanging out with people I look up to, and even cooler when they make you feel like you belong .”

Read more: https :// www.thedailybeast.com/ the-teen-taking-back-practical-jokes-from-youtubes-bros

from https://bestmovies.fun/2018/02/03/the-teen-taking-back-practical-jokes-from-youtubes-bros/

[josephquinn]

Failing the Whirlpool forum clerkship thread – what Whirlpool users don’t tell you

You know how important clerkships are, you worked your butt off to apply to as many firms as you could, and now you’re waiting on the Whirlpool forum clerkship thread to confirm offers. All you need is just a few, just 2 or 3, and… everyone is getting them except for you.

I remember this time as one of the most stressful and disheartening periods during my law degree. Every time a Whirlpool user confirmed that another firm’s offers were out I would grab my phone to refresh my email, and then again, and then once more (just in case it didn’t update correctly the first two times).

I applied to around six firms (idiotic, I know) and received a grand total of zero offers. They were all top-tier and mid-tier firms, so the confirmations on Whirlpool came out hard and fast, and with each one that feeling at the bottom of my stomach became heavier with the realisation that all I was going to score a big fail on the Whirlpool clerkship thread.

It seems like almost every person in those threads ends up with 5 or 6 offers – it’s so unfair! Further, the advice they give afterwards is pretty much what you did. So where did you go wrong?

The purpose of this post is to provide some perspective for those that missed out on offers (or didn’t receive as many as you thought you would).

Those Whirlpool fuckers with their high distinctions and perfect extracurriculars… someone will pay for this.

You’re not alone

These kinds of threads are self selecting. When people are happy they want to tell the world, and how can you really blame other law students who want to boast about receiving offers? I would have posted a humble-brag “confirmed FH” if I got an offer too.

Just remember that there are probably only 50 people posting in the thread – tops. There are hundreds of other law students who applied to your firms but missed out, and thousands of other students who applied across Australia and didn’t end up with anything.

You are definitely not alone. Take a moment (or day, or week) to cry, eat one of those over-sized 1m blocks of Toblerone, scream, silently implode or whatever it is you need to do, and then start thinking about next steps.

Whirlpool users discount the significance of luck

Clerkship applicants who receive 5 or 6 offers have obviously done something right. The problem with the Whirlpool forums is that you you will find these people (and even the ones with “just” 1 or 2 offers) giving advice as if they knew exactly what they were doing all along.

I’ve spoken to many students who have been annoyed at themselves for not doing something differently, or for not doing more – if only they had got some experience in this CLC, or picked up a paralegal position in that private firm, or went to a few firm clerkship events, or spoke to a particular partner on a particular day…

You can’t control everything and you can’t predict the future, so try not to go down this path. Luck plays such a massive role in clerkship applications these days (and the same goes for graduate applications and offers). Sure, you will need to have good marks and some relevant legal or other experience, but almost everyone does!

I tend to think that the people with 5/6+ offers have just gone with the scatter gun approach and have done a very good job at padding out their CV – they didn’t have some grand plan that, carefully executed, has resulted in their success. They just ended up with something on their resume that the firms wanted.

There is no real way for law students to know what individual law firms are looking for. Don’t beat yourself up that you didn’t have some grand plan like everyone else.

Didn’t have a high distinction average?

Again, self selection plays a large role in posting grades on Whirlpool, and a lot of people claim that you need at least a distinction average to even be considered for clerkship applications – a high distinction would be even better.

I’ve been at my firm for a number of years now and I don’t know what the cutoff is. I think it’s fair to say that there would be one, but it’s not something that we all know about (I would say only the human resources and hiring committees know what it is).

However, for the purposes of this post, comparing your grades to other Whirlpool users is completely pointless – it’s not as if you will have time to improve them in the two months from when the thread kicks off to when clerkship applications open!

In any event, if you have been networking from the start of your degree, hopefully you have a few contacts who are willing to help push your application to the top of the pile, regardless of your grades. This absolutely happens – now that is something I do know.

Nepotism and connections

Obviously law firms are very careful these days to avoid employing children or relatives of partners, and I have never seen it happen at my firm, even at the clerkship level. But the law industry is relatively small and the names of legal families (and other high net worth families with broad business connections) are well known. This means that other law firms will be looking closely at the candidate.

Put a well connected family and an intelligent and hardworking law student together and you have an extremely competitive clerkship application. Unfortunately for the rest of us, law is a business, so the person with connections will always have the advantage (I should say that this isn’t enough to convert into a graduate offer – they actually need to be impressive for the right reasons to get that).

As they say, it’s not about what you know, but who you know. While you can’t help what family you’re born into, you can do a lot of things – networking is at the top of that list.

Application screening is far from standard

Sometimes, two people will have similar marks and experience, but only one will receive a clerkship offer. Why would that be the case? This is a question I see asked or commented on quite frequently on Whirlpool.

The answer is pretty straightforward: most firms implement processes to standardise the clerkship application process, but they are usually always inundated with hundreds or even thousands of applications. The human resource departments usually take the first round of reviews and remove any undesirable applications. They then ask lawyers to help with the second round of reviews. For example, a lawyer will be given 10 applications and be asked to choose the best 2.

If you and a friend have very similar marks and extracurriculars, but only your friend got an offer at a particular firm, then it could be that a lawyer in the firm simply judged your application a little more harshly.

Grim times. When refreshing gmail will not make things better.

No one knows what the perfect mix of extracurriculars will be

Some people volunteer at community legal centres. Some people paralegal at law firms. Some people work in their existing jobs, such as hospitality and retail. Some people partake in university activities. Some do all of these and others do none!

I touched on this above. Don’t waste your energy on wondering what could have been if only you had changed your extracurriculars.

Some Whirlpools users sound like they they have it all figured out and just walked into a wall of clerkship offers. But you don’t know who their families are, what private school or law school they went to (that the interviewing partner also attended), what relationship they have to the firm, or what someone on the hiring committee thinks is important.

Choose your extracurriculars based on your own interests, and then sell your experience from them the best you can!

Don’t just look for excuses!

So some people have it easier than others, and some people just get handed a lucky run – that doesn’t mean you don’t have to critically review your own applications!

I looked at my applications a year or so after the clerkship season and was horrified! My coverletters were absolutely cringeworthy! My resume was also just embarrassing – the formatting made it look like I was a high-school student applying for my first job. I would have been struggling to get an offer even if I was the top law student in Australia. (And yes, I had these reviewed by a lawyer I knew, but he was obviously being kind – make sure you get a number of reviews!)

You might have spent an outrageous amount of time getting your applications perfect, but now you have some preliminary data telling you they your resume and coverletter don’t help you stand out. Don’t waste that information (or your future applications) by repeating what hasn’t worked for you so far.

Throw out your coverletter, find some example resumes on Google to emulate, and start them both from scratch.

Don’t stop looking

Don’t feed in to the Whirlpool pessimism that failing to get a clerkship means it is all over. Will it make it harder? Sure, if you want to work in a clerkship firm, but there are way more options out there. Now is not the time to wallow in self pity.

Consider the following:

While most firms will be closing their clerkship applications after offers come out, other firms will only just be starting. Time to find the firms that aren’t signatories to your state’s law society guidelines.

Get on Seek, go through every single firm listed in my post on mid tier firms (and the other related posts, just in case), and do some broad Google searches for other clerkship opportunities.

Keep your eyes peeled for any other opportunities during this research period – for example, if you have just missed out on applying for a paralegal vacancy, or if you see that a law firm has taken on law students in the past, write the name of the firm down and email them in 6 months – it’s possible they might need assistance in the future, and you already know that they advertise for the kind of jobs you want.

Start reaching out to your connections and let them know you’re interested in any clerkship, internship or paralegal opportunities.

Just keep working at it, your persistence will pay off!

And finally, keep your head up!

I know – it sucks. Everyone on Whirlpools killed it except for you! It’s a massive blow and will take some time to get over, but keep your head up and continue working towards your goals.

It’s a thankless job being a law student, but if you’ve made it this far, you know that there is always something else on the list to do. This just means that you will need to cross out “clerkship/internship” a little later than other people, so best to get to it!

Have a wine or four, but don’t be a sad law student for too long – there is plenty more you can be doing!

If you found this helpful, please share it around!

The post Failing the Whirlpool forum clerkship thread – what Whirlpool users don’t tell you appeared first on You've entered law land.

Failing the Whirlpool forum clerkship thread – what Whirlpool users don’t tell you published first on http://personalinjuryattorneyphiladelphia.blogspot.com/

[ocdaniel]

How To Build A Brand

In my humble opinion, I present "How to build a brand" Identity - First step to any brand is to first identify what the hell your trying to do. This will become your logo, website, marketing materials, concept, feel and vibe. What message and vibe are you trying to make? What do you want to have translated to your target audience? This is the look and feel of the overall brand. To get here though, it helps to go through a few things of the mind first. Mental gymnastics to give you that solid platform for less wasted time as you start actually designing things. Avatar Identification - identify who your client, follower, customer or person your targeting is. A lot of people miss this first vital step. They think too big or get caught up with competitors strategies. The concept of "stay true to yourself, stay true to your audience, build an authentic brand movement." You might be able to "fake it till you make it" but damn that is exhausting! How much easier is it to just identify who you are, how you feel is most effective to reach who you want to reach, then let the dominos fall. I think one of the biggest keys to failure is trying to do something you don't know anything about. Who knows how to be you better than YOU?!?!? The hard thing is that there is so much noise in the world today competing with your inner voice that it distracts you from knowing yourself well. It's almost like that 7ft 2in guy that tries to emulate Steve Nash because he sees himself as a point guard. Delusions kill great potential brands. Don't do that. Spend time understanding who you are and go deep. The deeper you go, the more straight your path to get to your desired goals. Before I work on a brand, I ask a series of questions. 1. How did you get to where you got? 2. Why do people like you? 3. What are the top things your followers think of when they think about you? 4. What is YOUR message and what would you want to transfer to another person if you only had a few moments with them? 5. What gets you excited and what are you into? 6. What other brands do you like? 7. What brands do you think your fans wear? 8. What is your ultimate vision of where you want to be? This is a great starting point to help identify what your brand "COULD" look like. Remember, iteration is part of the process and what you start with often will look significantly different by the time you are done. Get comfortable with the PIVOT! Messaging - how do you say everything you want to say to your followers in 3-5 words? It's your hook/ chorus/ tagline. If you were going to deliver a keynote speech, what would you title it? It's gotta be something people can remember and makes sense when they learn more about you. Kinda like "sacrificial love" for one of the most prolific movements to exist called "Christianity" from a guy named Jesus. You have a title that supports your story or message. What is YOUR message? This is not easy so my recommendation is to relax, take your time, and fire away. Just start writing things down. Spit out 20-30 maybe 50 ideas. I call this the message iteration sequence. Do you think Apple Computers came up with "Think Different" on the first go around? Your message might evolve. I mean do you want to force feed things to your fans? What if you start off a guest on a talk show and the cameras catch you say something like.... "cash me outside, how about dat?" and it goes viral? Are you going to roll with it or try to explain that doesn't truly represent you and your brand should be something else? Brands evolve and you should be open to this. I mean the core of it could start off with your story and message but your FANS might demand a PIVOT. Be ok with that. The idea in this phase is to put something out that can get the ball rolling. Nothing sucks more than a lot of potential that sits on a bench. Get off the bench and start testing! Rapid Testing & Refinement - Now that your idea or message is "off the bench" you can start getting feedback to either validate your idea or receive reasons to change it. Don't keep fishing with the same bait if it doesn't work. If you can make tweaks to it, do it! I heard this quote I always use "slight tweaks lead to great peaks!" Truth! The stubborn guy eats the left overs and by himself in the corner. The market moves fast as people are always changing. Move! As you test and refine, you will eventually find something that works. The key is to keep trying. Don't give up.... I was told once, "daniel, people give up... don't give up! Not giving up is half the battle." From my own findings, I see this true more than 80% - 90% of the time. Now, 10% - 20% of the time, the old classic poker song "know when to hold em, know when to fold em" has to be enforced... but during this first phase, don't give up! Innovate, Deploy, Test, Refine. The clay pot always starts off a big blob of brown dirt mixed with water. Build your pot! Eureka - You caught a whale! That's the point of testing... when you catch a whale go HARD! Stop testing. I call this, start wide then go super narrow. Once you figure out what is working, don't waste any time on things what take away from reeling that whale in. If you got a saying that people keep repeating or a vibe you see people posting, you got something! Think, this is when people start tattooing what your saying onto their bodies (this actually happens many times). The whole point of testing and refining is to get to a singular focus you can repeat over and over and over again. It's your brand! Now go take over the world kid! Ok... now that we went through that we can snap back to now. That was a mental gymnastics exercise to show what lies ahead. If your fortunate enough to make it to the "Eureka" stage.... believe me, there is a whole new set of rules that apply there. You can't just sit back and collect cash. You gotta keep nurturing it and treat it like a prize horse. Frequently grooming and maintenance is a great thing to exercise once your brand has been established. So back to identity. Once your process all that above, your ready to start making a logo. By now you should have some sayings you want to start with, brands you like or feel your fans like and an overall vibe that you want to build your brand around. Logo - A good designer can help put some concepts into motion. Fonts, sizing, layout, texture and colors are very important to pay attention to. A good designer can help translate your idea into a graphic that can get you started. I'd recommend getting 4-8 logo variations to look at unless your working with a guru that knows what he's doing. If you got a guru, then you might want to take his advise on what looks good and give your slight feedback on that. Look up how Steve Jobs came up with the Apple logo for reference. If you don't have access to a guru and you have to play your own creative director, I'd pick 1-2 of the initial set then have them do 2-4 treatments each. Play with different layouts, colors, etc. Maybe even have them apply the logos onto marketing materials such as flyers, website mockups, mobile apps, etc. This will give you a good vibe of how it will look applied. Remember, not everything that looks good in a catalog translates well when you actually try it on. Give it a test drive and see how they can treat the logo onto different graphic layouts to get a real fee of it. Once you got it, pick the one you will call home and start the remodeling! Marketing assets - once you have the logo and the initial messaging, you will need to get marketing assets. Here is what I believe you need today in order of importance: Social Media Promo Assets (the modern flyer), Website (the modern store front), & a one sheet (the modern business card). You could do without a one sheet if your a entertainment brand but as a business, you'll want a one sheet. That one sheet will force you to properly consolidate all your ideas into a concise format. It will also be very useful for business meetings, video production, marketing campaigns and new employees down the line. I almost always build a one sheet before doing a website or mobile app. Even if I don't use it, it helps me filter the unnecessary content out. Now that you have your initial marketing assets.... START MARKETING! Now this is where I stop. I went over the steps in the mental gymnastics above so you can pretty much figure out what direction you should go if you follow my school of thought. These are my personal findings over the last 15 years or so after working with hundreds if not thousands of celebrities and influencers. I've worked on campaigns for Lady Gaga, Gwen Stefani, Kanye West, Beats By Dre, Farmers Insurance, UFC gym, and many others.... I've seen it work. Stop wishing and start working! A dream without a plan is only a dream. 👌 I'm just a student just passing along info I've caught. - Daniel