#i have every intention of showing this project off when i've done a bit more

[sevenswansinatrenchcoat]

You can't understand how insane (and occasionally typo'ed) the Amazing Devil lyrics are until you've decided to make a CD booklet on a whim and are desperately trying to separate out who sings what

[dduane]

I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, given the previous thing about different ways people write, but I just wanted to tell you because I'm so excited: I finished the first draft of that script! I actually finished a writing thing for the first time in over a decade! I've never attempted to write a script before, and now I've finished my first first draft. My friend said that's a big deal, and it makes writing other scripts much easier when you finish your first. Is that what you've found?

Oh apparently I have a few more questions, sorry: The first time you finished a project, and you knew you were on literally the last few paragraphs or scene, or what have you, how did that feel for you? And when you were done, did you initially love writing, or did you debate ever writing again? Did you start working on something right away, or did you break for a little bit?

Sorry, I'm just so excited and proud of myself right now, and wondering what feelings might come next. I haven't been this proud of myself in I don't know how long. I mean, I know I have to finalize it, and even still, I know I'll never be able to get it made. However, for right now, I'm proud of myself! I'll probably go back to being sad I'll never get it made tomorrow though, which sucks, but it's a good night right now!

I hope you're doing well today! Sorry for the bombardment of questions.

First of all: congratulations! You've got every right to be excited. Screenwriting isn't easy or simple even at the best of times. Doing it well requires that you write in ways that can seem really counterintuitive when compared to working in prose. And it's always, ALWAYS a big deal when by completing something you break a long creative dry spell. So GOOD ON YOU! You got the job done. :)

(And now, of course, comes rewrite. The brain—yours, or someone else's—always has notes. But I'm sure you knew that.)

While I know how it is to be relieved on finishing a first script, my weird work history makes me kind of an outlier when it comes to discussing this. I went with unexpected speed from "I'm Just A First-Time Novelist, What Do I Know?" to "I'm Just A First-Time Screenwriter, What Do—WAIT WHAT??". Because the man who was soon to be my story editor on Scooby and Scrappy-Doo walked in the door one evening, having just read The Door Into Fire, and said, "Would you be interested in writing cartoons?"

It was kind of a surprising career development, but I quickly learned at that point in my life that when the Universe turns up on your doorstep with the Moon on a silver platter, you don't tell it to try next door: you say "Wait right there and I'll get a knife and fork." In the space of a given month of being walked around Hanna-Barbera for the first time, I turned in my first animation script... and then sagged in my chair on getting the phone call when my story editors told me, "That's a strong start. Now we have some notes." And all I could do was collapse with relief that I had not fucked it up.

However, this situation also left me in no position where I'd be able to debate ever writing a screenplay again... because suddenly there were a couple of very intent guys telling me "Okay, new story premise coming over to you, we need the outline by next Thursday and the script the Thursday after, you okay with that?"

(Are you kidding me? I thought. Let me get the knife and fork!)

So as I said, I'm really an outlier in this regard. The next three years of my life pretty much went as above, as Tom Swale and Duane Poole (great Thoth rest both their gentle souls) took me with them from one show to another, and kept me busy. (Thereby financing the writing of So You Want To Be A Wizard and The Wounded Sky and assorted other work.) But there's no question that each time you finish a script, each time you type FADE TO BLACK, you feel better about the whole enterprise. It doesn't precisely get easier. But it gets more familiar. And that helps. (If I have to be locked in a haunted house, I'd sooner it was one I'd played in when I was a kid than one I'd never been inside before...)

Anyway, again: congratulations. But also: Do not be too sure you'll never have it made. ...Granting you that "made" can look a lot of different ways in different times and places, and can shift under your feet without warning. But the world that depends on scripts can do very, very weird and unusual things without warning. Best to do your homework and be ready for them... and know where the knife and fork are.

Also, a side note: As you do more of this work you may well find that finishing a script leaves you with more energy, not less. I think this may be a lot more normal than we routinely allow ourselves to believe. It makes sense to me, from the psych-nurse end of things, that successful completion of a project allows the release of a lot of energy that you've been holding in reserve to help you cope if something went horribly wrong with the piece of work you just finished. Me, when I've felt that rush, I do a thing that C. J. Cherryh taught me: immediately roll another sheet of paper into the typewriter. ...Though these days, it'd be "open a new file." You don't necessarily have to do anything with that blank page or screen if you don't want to. But it's wise to be ready.

In any case: all the good luck to you (because sheer blind luck plays its part in this business, no matter how much we wish all our hard work counted for more)! ...And let us know how you get on.

[deputy-buck]

Well now you gotta let us know your thoughts on Hawk/Tim puppyplay

!!! love you anon, so much !!! here's Tim's lamb + some other items and photos

Is it a way for Hawk to take more control? yeah, a bit. But is it more so about Tim letting go and being more comfortable with himself? Abso-fuckin-lutely.

I project a little onto Tim, and I HC him being very unsure and over-conscious of his movements, like his physical bodily movements, he's over-aware of anyone's eyes on him to the point he thinks "Am I walking normal? what do I do with my hands? is this a weird way to stand?" It's super fun- I've settled on "Skip" being Tim's pup name :3

Also I'd like to say a super special THANK YOU to @lispenard-street for beta-reading this fic for me!!! Literally every piece of input you had was gold and the absolute correct thing to do, not to mention all the super kind words you had for me even though the draft was in shambles when you first saw it lmfao- So thank you, Gem💚

-

Fetch

Hawk was consumed in drafting a small speech for a function Senator Smith had organized —something about acknowledging McCarthy's threat to the State Department but encouraging diplomacy— when Tim showed up on his doorstep looking like a kicked puppy. His boy promised that he would be quiet and that all he needed was to be somewhere safe while he felt this way. With a beat of hesitance, Hawk let him in, slightly worried no work would get done. Hawk really has no clue how telling a bunch of grown men and women to essentially stand down will do any good for the department, but he'd rather chop off his own hand than go against Senator Smith. 

Tim’s head feels light and full of syrup-damp cotton. He’s quite familiar with this feeling, having been experiencing it for some years; the swirling, strangling, suffocating need to serve and submit. But it’s all different now, knowing that he has someone he can relinquish himself to. Knowing he can let his mind float away and still be safe regardless of whatever may happen around him.

His tongue is wet and heavy behind his teeth, forcing him to swallow the excess spit before it drips past his stress-chewed lips. A warm buzz tingles across every inch of his skin and radiates through his insides; the feeling settles somewhere in his hips and weakens his knees, joints threatening to buckle beneath his weight. The urge to sink to the floor right on Hawk’s doorstep nearly wins but he has just enough sense left in him to know that it would get the door shut in his face.

Instead, he takes a couple wobbly steps across the threshold and into the foyer before giving in to the downward pull and sinking to his knees on the hearth rug that poses as a welcome mat. Tim struggles with bumbling, pawing hands to strip himself of his clothes, only managing to shake out of his coat and claw at the already loose knot of his tie before he lets his hands drop to his lap in defeat. Head swimming, lungs unable to draw in enough air, he looks up to the man standing in front of him, asking —begging— for help with watery eyes, throat resistant to form any sound other than a pitiful whine. 

Hawk smiles and gently peels away the layers of Tim’s human facade: tweed, cotton, tortoiseshell, and gold all in turn. Replacing it with leather and brass, unbinding his pup from responsibility and expectation, letting him be raw and sensitive here where Hawk can protect him—can be the soothing balm to all his scrapes and burns caused by the world.

With a finger hooked in the D-ring of Tim’s collar, Hawk leads his pup into the living room. A little bit of fussing over Tim’s blanket, a brief pitstop at his desk to fetch Tim’s little white lamb, and a soft yet firm command of “Down. Settle, Skip,” later; Hawk redirects his attention back to his speech —leaving his little pup to play at his feet—  intent on making good progress tonight. So he's got a pencil in his hand and three sheets of paper —two already full of his scrawling, thankfully— on an old book in his lap. He's not sitting at his desk for this —his back hurts too damn much— but instead is reclining on the low couch on the opposite wall. 

                                                          ===

Tim nudges his little white lamb into Hawk's lap, propping his chin on the older man's robe-covered knee, huffing and whining when his handler doesn't immediately look at him. The sweet noise catches Hawk's attention immediately, quickly switching his focus to Tim's pouting lips and glimmering eyes instead of the stark white pages.

Those big doe eyes shine with a playfulness that has Hawk's heart seized with warmth and affection for the young man. 

He’s just a boy, Hawk marvels.

Tim had been quietly playing by himself on his rust orange tartan blanket at his handler's socked feet, manipulating the soft toy with his hands and rubbing his cheek against the fluff of its fur, nipping at the tiny ears and tail. But that gets boring after a while, and Hawk hasn’t so much as reached down to pet him in the last twenty minutes. 

A break might do Hawk some good— his eyes are starting to sting anyway.

"Wanna play, huh?" Hawk sets the pencil and makeshift writing pad aside, picking up the small plush and shaking it in front of Tim's face. A laugh bubbles up from his chest as Tim presses his chest forward against Hawk's shin and snaps at the toy, teeth clacking together when a soft, felt hoof gets close to his nose. Maybe he'll catch it one day but today isn't that day.

"Get it, boy." With one last flick of the toy in Tim's face, Hawk tosses the cotton-stuffed lamb across the living room and into the kitchen hall; he had moved the chair that usually sits in the center of the room over, giving his pup room to play while he worked. Hawk is thinking of making this furniture configuration permanent, always allowing Tim to slip down to the floor and be 'Skip' with nothing in his way when his boy’s mind starts to shift and slide to one more canid.

This is a fairly new addition to their play, fetch. It still feels odd to crawl on the floor in nothing but his briefs and collar; bright sconces of the kitchen hall leaving him nowhere to hide. Tim feels a bit exposed, as though his most vulnerable parts are bared for Hawk to scrutinize from his comfortable perch. The skin of his face, chest, and back flush a rosy shade of pink knowing Hawk is watching him.

Hawk rakes his eyes down Tim's body, a ball of heat beginning to wind and coil low in his belly. With a slight readjustment of his robe and briefs, Hawk makes sure to conceal his growing erection, knowing that's not what his puppy needs right now.

Tim clambers his way across the living room, palms and knees softly thumping on the hardwood floor as he chases his lamb. The nickel tag clipped to his collar jingles with each plodding step. He's not going to humiliate himself by trying to trot after it —he knows he'll fall flat on his face— but he's learned that Hawk wants him to crawl instead of get up and walk. Dogs don't walk upright, Skip. Down, boy. 

Once Tim reaches his beloved lamb, he dips down to grab it between blunt teeth. Jaws clamped down on the soft fabric, Tim shakes it side to side like a terrier with a rat or a Beagle with a rabbit: mauling it before bringing it back to his owner for a reward. His hair falls into his eyes as he does so, obscuring his glasses-less vision even more when he turns his attention to Hawk, panting softly, searching for that warm smile he's always trying to draw out of his handler. The one that lets Tim know he's doing good.

He gets it, a sharp show of teeth, the highest value reward Hawk could ever give.

"Bring it here, Skip. Come on." Hawk encourages, patting the top of his thigh to beckon his pup back to him. He loves when his boy turns into his pup, the thorns of defiance and questioning stripped away to sweet, silent submission. Hawk wouldn't change Tim's inquisitive mind and crashing emotions for anything, but it's nice not having to be on his toes, waiting to be thrown off-kilter by a question he hasn't allowed himself to think about. 

Tim ducks his head as he crawls back to Hawk, still a bit too aware of the position his body is in. Hawk had said he likes the way Tim's shoulders flex and strain as he lumbers across the floor on all fours. The memory of Hawk growling those words in his ear while the older man's hands squeezed and kneaded the muscle in Tim's arms prompts Tim to pause once his hands hit the scratchy circular rug. He slides them forward to stretch out in front of himself, chest nearly brushing the floor, fingers clawing at the rug, intentionally tensing his shoulders to make the muscles ripple and cord beneath his skin. Arching his back like a dog who just woke up. His collar tightens around his throat as he does so, biting into his skin, leaving the faintest mark for later.

Satisfied with the shaky sigh and chuckle Hawk lets out, Tim straightens back up to finally bring the toy back to his handler, a little more confidence in his stride. His tag jingles a little louder now. Depositing the lamb in Hawk's open palm, Tim sits back on his haunches, ready to chase and retrieve the toy again, willing to bare himself for as long as Hawk will grant.

"Good boy, Skip." Hawk praises, free hand ruffling through Tim's hair, pausing to gently scratch behind his pup's ear the way Tim loves. "Always such a good puppy for me." 

-

Again thank you so SO much for beta-reading this for me, Gem, you're the best!!

[progressivemother]

Spending Time With Our Children; a Fun, Simple Weekend

Life is busy and we don't often get to spend as much time as we want to with our kids. For a lot of us, it may be a lot less than we’d like to admit. There isn't any shame in that.

For my husband and I, we only have two children and it is easier for us to spend time with them. That is still a lot of little needs, wants, personalities, and interests that we have to balance. I often feel like I'm constantly being pulled and called. It can be stressful, especially when I have other things I need to do.

Many things can feel more important than the children at times. Things such as finances, house cleaning, or just being too busy. We can feel terrible about it.

These are our children and they’re our priority. If we want to have a strong, long-lasting relationship with them, we have to make time for them. One on one is just as important as family time. It can even be once a week that this is done and for maybe ten minutes.

Here’s some good news… spending quality time with your kids doesn’t have to be this huge, intensive effort. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. The idea is intentional time away with your children to learn about them.

This weekend was a lot of fun. It was mainly us playing in the snow for a while and I watched them build their own projects in the snow while helping them with any requests they wanted assistance with. It was freezing and most of the time, I wanted to go inside because I'm a baby when it comes to being cold. But I shoveled snow from the sidewalk and driveway and added it to the front yard for them to use.

After all of this, they finally got cold and decided to come inside. Anastasia had finished her project and Austyn's wasn't yet finished. We came in and I got snacks with hot cocoa ready. They sat down for a movie while relaxing with their cookie and cocoa. It was nice. I got a few things done. On Saturdays, we only do basic chores and take the day off.

On Sunday, it was a little bit of a repeat because it snowed again. Austyn got to finish is project and Anastasia fixed hers. They came in quicker on Sunday. We went out after lunch because we had to finish all of the chores in the morning and then ate before heading out.

They came in for the usual snack and cocoa but they added a little something on that day. I've been teaching them how to crochet, which is a great one on one time. Anastasia actually made a bunny! Austyn is still a beginner. It took time for him to want to do it. He is learning how to do the second layer of the chain. I showed him how to do that and he seemed proud of himself. I know Anastasia was proud of her project.

Life is busy. Our tasks have become fuller and we have other priorities that take precedence over quality family time. Some days we are so busy tending to our children’s needs that we hardly have time for a break. We have so much on our hands to take care of. I understand this and I'm sure any other parent out there does as well.

Quality time is important. Quality time means giving them our undivided attention, doing what they like to do. It can be as simple as taking a few minutes every day with no other distractions in place between us. By doing this, we are showing our children we love and care for them; this will help to keep them mentally and emotionally strong. This is something I want for my children. Even if I can mainly do this on the weekends, they still get that time and that is what matters.

[narhinafan]

Narusaku said: "They steal nothing can change my mind. Boruto has no concept of his own since the start of the manga and Narusaku's content is well done and thought out because NS fans really understand the characters and the concepts Kishi left in the middle (like the Byakugo seal), we love this ship so much. Everything was done with love and thought something that the Boruto series failed to do….. Yes stealing and definitely not by accident. Honestly, I've read NS fics 300% better than the current Boruto manga/anime, but that's what the creators will do and I doubt we can do anything about it. I will just continue to enjoy the fact that our ship was better and they know it!! Great video as always……very excited for the Shinachiku and Kaika project"

this true?

No that isn't true NaruSaku was never a thing cause Kishimoto had no intention of doing it from the start. The manga shows Naruto's crush as somthing that is shallow the only reason NaruSaku got some bits in the middle of the manga was cause Kishimoto was planning to go for the love triangle, but overall they were never meant to be considered romantically.

There is no NS outside of their delusions, NS isn't better at all cause how the fandom sees it is not how they are shown in canon. There fics and everything are just their delusions of how they see/think NaruSaku should be when in reality the ship is an absolute trainwreck that didn't happen for good reasons.

NaruHina was done with love and thought Kishimoto planned it from the start and in the manga there are loads of subtle bits in every NaruHina interaction that makes it obvious the pairing was end game. The small details like how Naruto puts his hand over hers after the Neji fight, to his blushing and awe face when she calls him a proud failure then in the Pain arc when berserk Naruto actively avoids Hinata and gets Pain away from her where is as Naruto with lesser tails almost killed Sakura if not for Yamato.

As for Boruto I think the manga started well, the only real grip I have is Sarada getting the MS with such an asspull. However by how Kishimoto started it with a scene of teenage Boruto and Kawaki facing off in the village ruins and how events are finally catching up and Naruto and Hinata being sealed away you can tell he, put some thought in how it all plays out.

The anime issues are more due to the studio not Kishimoto and the worse of it is filler especially the Retsuden arc that killed the show.

[julimar-cool]

A little sad that I can't see the fireworks rn, but I do have a lot of free time to finally talk about one of my interests! Experimental musical instruments. I couldn't tell you why, but my fascination revolves pretty exclusively around acoustic instruments making sounds in an interesting way. This extends to more traditional instruments that weren't designed with the intention of pushing any boundaries (I love the dan k'ni so much) but that's a whole different thing. I specifically want to talk about the people who inspire me and what I find interesting, and I'd like to start with Nicolas Bras (you can find him on youtube, tiktok, and wherever else he posts). He was sort of my gateway to getting into experimental instruments, and that definitely makes sense. A lot of what he does is taking an instrument that already exists, and seeing what he can do to innovate on it, and I feel like seeing these things you're familiar with be transformed into something new is a great way to start learning. The way he sees the world definitely opened my eyes a bit too, he's stopped several videos in their tracks because he dropped something on the floor, scraped something, or otherwise accidentally made a sound that he finds interesting, then he takes the time to sample these sounds at various pitches before continuing on his project. He also does collabs with people who are more experienced playing the instrument he's trying to replicate (he had a singer on for his video on the kazoo, that was amazing. Plus it makes sense). After watching his videos for a while I eventually found Bart Hopkin, and his work absolutely rocked my world. You can find him on youtube, but I'd also recommend checking out his website, particularly his "instrumentarium".

He innovates a lot more with his designs, and seeing this whole new world of sound changed the way I view music (some highlights. Savart's wheel, the "moe" family, and spools and wheels. Don't expect some kind of beautiful harp or flute like sounds, savart's wheel in particular is harsh and unpleasant, and I love it so dearly). I think it's around this point that I had read all of the summaries of his instruments and watched almost every video on his youtube channel, and I just started looking for any unique instrument I could find. From there, I found people like Leonard Solomon ("Bellowphone" on youtube), Andy Thurlow (creator of the Anarchestra. The youtube channel you want to check out is "anarchestra instruments"), and Görkem Şen ("Yaybahar" on youtube). Briefly, Leonard Solomon's work got me more interested in organs and how they work, Andy Thurlow's work is just cool, and Görkem Şen's yaybahar genuinely sent me on a spiral, and that's something I want to touch on more. The natural echo of the yaybahar was so baffling when I was first exposed to it. It was so beautiful and sad, I think I might have cried. It really made me want to make a difference and design something so radical, and so beautiful, and crazy, and monstrous, that it would inspire someone else to get into instruments too. And I guess it really is just instruments now. I've since spent hours upon hours researching instruments from all over the world, and I could probably name any instrument you could show me. Music has been so important to me throughout my entire life, and the idea of making new sounds is just so wonderful, and so promising, and I just love it so much. Very happy to be talking about all of this! I hope I don't come off as pretentious in any way, I'm not some kind of expert or anything, I am nineteen. I haven't even done anything huge yet, just a banjo, a few flutes, and a lap-played banjolele sort of thing. I'm working on a little accordion though! With real reeds! Maybe I'll actually post it someday, this post has really brought back the old feelings of discovering these things for the first time. Indulge your interests! Do what makes you happy! If you can!

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: Things finally explode between you and Nate, and Pietro decides to get to the bottom of whatever is going on between you and Wanda, though in usual Pietro fashion AKA not subtly at all

warning/s: none.

author's note: this is very beefy, i must admit, but i think you'll all enjoy the outcome 😂💘

part one | part two | part three | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Dinner with the Maximoffs wasn't as strange as I envisioned. Her parents were sweet and the twins did their best to make me feel comfortable. Wanda still seemed mildly frustrated whenever Pietro and I would talk though, and I figured she may have thought I was lying when I told her I didn't like him like that. I hoped that wasn't the case.

After dinner, Wanda took me upstairs to show me her bedroom. I'm not sure how to describe it other than it seemed so Wanda.

"I'm guessing red is your favourite colour," I said when I saw the hints of scarlet in her bedroom. On her walls, in her bedding, on her pillows. Just like her car and her jacket, they were all bright and very her.

"Great observation, Sherlock," she teased with a sly smile.

I returned the smile, sticking my tongue out at her playfully, before having a walk around and coming across her massive CD collection and CD player. Her music taste was actually quite similar to mine, which I definitely didn't expect. It just made her ten times more attractive to me which wasn't good, but oh well. I was here for a good time, not a long time. And my crush on Wanda Maximoff would surely be the death of me.

"D'you have any CDs at all?" she asked, joining my side when she noticed me staring at the shelf.

I crossed my arms, glancing at her. "Don't get me wrong. I'd love to collect them, but it's just so much easier to have Spotify, y'know?"

My intention wasn't to make her laugh, but God I was glad I did when her eyes crinkled and the sound rang around the room, making my heart pinch with adoration.

After giving me some of her pyjamas, the two of us got ready and brushed our teeth before I realised she wanted me to share bed with her.

"You wanna watch some TV before bed?" she asked, clearly not registering my hesitance to slide into her Queen-sized bed.

I swallowed hard. "S-sure."

She turned on the TV at the end of her bed as I slipped in beside her, still a bit rigid as I kept a fair distance from her.

"What you feeling? Comedy? Drama? Horror?"

"Anything is fine with me," I said, still tense.

She hummed in acknowledgement before leaning down on her pile of pillows behind her, edging closer to me. My heart was hammering in my chest as her hair tickled my arm from where she was laying.

"You comfortable?" she checked in, leaning backwards so her head was upside down to see me. "I have more pillows if you need them."

I offered her a small smile, hoping it disguised my nerves. "I'm good."

She nodded before flicking through the channels and eventually settling on reruns of The Office. It took time, but I eventually overcame my initial shock of sharing bed with the girl I had a major crush on and instead relaxed, getting comfortable under the covers.

After watching some TV, we called it a night and fell asleep quite quickly, the day taking its toll on us. For once, I wasn't panicking about doing something stupid. I simply fell asleep, trying to ignore the heat she emanated from beside me.

It was a peaceful night – her bed was super comfortable – and I woke up to the sound of Wanda moving about in her bedroom.

"Shoot, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked when she saw me moving about under the blankets. I tried to blink away the sleep as she continued, "I was gonna wake you soon. School starts in an hour."

I rubbed my eyes, yawning, before sitting up and seeing she was practically already dressed. That meant she would have been up for a while, meaning she would have seen me fast asleep. God, I hated when people saw me sleeping. It always felt so weird.

"It's okay," I got out tiredly, before running a hand through my hair.

"You sleep well?" she asked, spinning around in her chair, her makeup half done. "I tried my very best not to use you as a teddy bear."

She was joking, but I felt my neck grow warm at the thought and damn, it was just way too early to be flustered.

"Yeah, I slept great," I settled, feeling her gaze on me. "Thanks again for having me over."

"Anytime," she said, and something told me it wasn't just a friendly response but that she actually meant it. Maybe it was the kind smile on her lips as she said so. "Just like last night, if you wanna use anything in the bathroom, go for it."

I gave her a thumbs up, taking a moment to wake myself up a little more, before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned to Wanda's room, I saw she'd already made the bed and had laid my clothes on top of it.

"I've got a shirt you can borrow," she said when I grabbed my jeans.

"Oh, I can just wear the same thing again, it's no biggie," I told her, already grabbing my shirt.

She pouted before grabbing a shirt from her closet. "Just hold on. You'll love it."

In no time, she came out from her closet and held out a Paramore tee shirt on a hanger towards me.

"I got it from the last concert I went to," she explained. "I thought you'd like it."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Wow, Wanda. Really? You don't mind?"

She nodded, shaking the shirt as emphasis for me to take it. I did, having a look over it and smiling to myself.

"I'll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow," I promised, taking it off the hanger and holding it with my jeans. "Thanks."

"You can keep it," she said, scratching the back of her head apprehensively. "I've got loads."

"Oh, no, I can't do that," I began to deny, but she shook her head.

"It's fine, I'm giving it to you," she said, before smiling sweetly. "I'm sure you'll look better in it anyway."

Again with the warmth spreading up my neck...

"I doubt that," I quipped with a small smile.

"Go! Go get changed," she said, already pushing me towards the door. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast."

I snickered, letting her shove me into the hallway, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. The shirt was oversized, so there was no need to be worried it wouldn't fit. It was actually really nice, plus I liked it that extra bit more knowing Wanda gave it to me. Though I knew I wouldn't keep it. It was hers and she was just being nice.

When I finished making myself look presentable, I headed downstairs and found the twins at the kitchen counter, chatting between themselves. Their chatter ceased when I walked in, with Wanda biting her lip and looking me up and down with satisfaction.

"I was right," was all she said, making me nervous. "You do look better in it than me."

—

The day after that, I did as I said I would and returned Wanda's shirt to her, washed, folded and ironed. Knowing she wouldn't accept it without a fight, I left it in her bag when she wasn't looking during class.

I should have expected her to approach me at my locker afterwards.

"It was supposed to be a gift," she said, and I saw her pretty face reflected in the mirror hung inside my locker.

I turned around, already knowing what she was talking about.

"I told you I couldn't accept," I said politely, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate it though." She seemed disappointed which obviously didn't help with my feelings for her, so I took a leap and added, "Maybe I can get my own at their next concert. In the summer, right?"

She picked up on what I meant and smiled, stifling a laugh. Running a hand through her hair, she met my gaze and I found myself frozen in place as always, unable to look away. I wondered if she knew what she was doing when she did that, knew that she was giving me heart palpitations every time her lips turned into a playful smirk and dark eyes studied me curiously.

My eyes drifted to her lips subconsciously and she must have put on some lip balm or something, prior to finding me just now, as they looked shiny and pink and just so damn kissable. Nate was one lucky guy.

—

Having faced issues with Nate three times now (AKA the three times he happened to launch a football at my head), I'd figured I wouldn't be seeing the last of him. He was a dick, meaning he had a natural inclination to piss people off, particularly me. But I never thought he'd go for Y/BF/N.

We were chilling by our lockers, chatting about his film project, when his books suddenly got knocked out of his hands and he was shoved against the lockers. I straightened up when I saw it was Nate, looking pissed off as he had Y/BF/N's shirt bundled in his fist.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, trying to shove him off, but he merely pushed me back.

"This isn't your business," he said to me before glaring at Y/BF/N, who was quiet with panic. "You. You've been hanging around my girlfriend and I don't like it."

The colour drained from Y/BF/N's face as Nate slammed his hand to the lockers beside his head, startling him.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from Wanda!" he ordered, and students were starting to pick up on the fight that was clearly about to break out. "You fucking hear me, you nerd? Stay the fuck away!"

Poor Y/BF/N nodded his head, eyes avoiding Nate's. Meanwhile, I was angrier than Nate probably was. Y/BF/N had done nothing wrong. Maybe Nate had just seen Wanda hanging with me and because Y/BF/N was always with me, assumed the worst. Either way, this was no way to handle the situation and I was not gonna let this dick threaten my friend.

"Get the fuck away from him, Nate," I said through gritted teeth, glaring a hole into the side of his head.

Nate barely glanced my way. "I told you this isn't your business, honey."

"Five seconds," I said, standing behind him as a crowd began to form. "You've got five seconds or I'm gonna kick you."

He seemed to ignore me as he tightened his grip on Y/BF/N's shirt, only pissing me off more.

"Five," I began to count down, the grip on my books tightening with nerves and anger. "Four."

He still didn't look my way, just kept slapping Y/BF/N's face to scare him.

"Three, two, one," I said quickly, tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Without waiting anymore, I kicked him between the legs with full force, watching as he instantly let go of Y/BF/N and doubled over. Everybody began to laugh, some making 'ooh' noises, but the consensus was clear – it definitely sucked to be Nate right now.

I tried not to laugh as I watched his face scrunch with pain, turning red. I was starting to appreciate my choice of wearing my doc marten boots today.

"No more balls for the guy who keeps throwing them at my fucking head," I got out, jaw clenching.

He looked up, his face crossing with realisation as he recognised me. In response, he glared in my direction, but it didn't faze me.

"Come on, Y/BF/N," I said, looking to my startled friend. "Let's go."

"What on Earth is going on over here?!" a teacher's voice rang out in the distance, and I groaned internally.

When I turned to leave, I heard Nate from behind me, grunting with dissatisfaction.

"Fuckin' dyke," he mumbled under his breath, and I paused, clenching my fists.

"Y/N, don't–" Y/BF/N tried to stop me, but I was too pissed to care.

I spun around and punched Nate square in the face, feeling good as his smirking face scrunched in pain and his back hit the lockers from the impact.

"Woah!" a teacher came out of nowhere, shoving herself between us and pushing me away from him. "What the hell is going on here?!"

I shook my hand to ease the pain on my knuckles, though the pain couldn't stop the grin on my lips as Nate raised his hands to his face, holding his busted nose. Students were going crazy, egged on by the potential fight, and for once, I didn't mind the attention. Nate had that coming for a while now.

"Everybody back to class! Now!" the teacher yelled, glaring all around her, before her eyes settled on Nate and I. "You two. Nurse's office now."

Nate glared at me behind his bloody nose and, once again, I tried not to laugh. Y/BF/N patted my back, amazement written on his face, before letting me leave with the teacher and an unusually silent Nate.

—

Kicking Nate in the groin and punching him in the face wasn't something I did to get attention, yet that's exactly what happened. Word of the incident spread around the school quite quickly, so much in fact that even students from other grades became aware of the situation and were approaching me to tell me how awesome I was. The whole thing was definitely strange, but I could tolerate it.

What I couldn't tolerate was having Chemistry after lunch and wondering if Wanda knew.

Would she hate me for punching her boyfriend? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when she walked into class and sat next to me, I felt everyone's eyes subtly watching us as if waiting for her to explode at me.

I'd been given an ice pack for my bruised hand after my visit to the nurse's office earlier whilst Nate had been treated for his broken nose (the fact that I'd broken it was hilarious to me, since I knew I wasn't even that strong). The principal had a very angry yell at us both in his office, neither of us willing to reveal the premise of our fight, before giving us detention every day after school for two weeks straight as punishment. Of course, Nate got his two weeks at a different time to mine for fear I'd punch him again (he definitely didn't like that, but he couldn't exactly say that to to principal).

I didn't bother using the ice pack in Chemistry for fear Wanda may ask what was up. I successfully managed to hide my hand and as a second surprise of the day, Wanda mentioned nothing about the incident. Not one thing about her boyfriend, about Y/BF/N, about any of it. I thought she might hint at it, trying to get me to bring it up. But she didn't which made me think she actually had no idea it even happened. Had anyone told her? Had he told her? Nah, probably not. His fragile masculinity probably caused him to change the story to something else so he didn't look like a wimp in front of his girlfriend.

Whatever it was, I was safe for now.

Thinking I'd got away with a confrontation from Wanda, I went about the rest of my day as usual. Well, that was until I was replacing some books in my locker at the end of the day and saw Wanda at her locker behind me, arguing with– yep, you guessed it. Nate.

Y/BF/N was collecting some books from his own locker beside me and we both exchanged looks as we saw the two lovebirds in a heated argument. Just when we were about to leave, someone cleared their throat from behind us, making us turn around.

Wanda was stood there, backpack hanging from her shoulder, beside Nate, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Hi," he started quietly, making Wanda clear her throat. He glanced at her before looking to Y/BF/N. "Look, man, I'm really sorry about earlier. I was wrong about what I said. We cool?"

I tried not to laugh at the way Nate was being forced to apologise by his girlfriend. Y/BF/N glanced to me with questioning eyes, so I simply shrugged.

"I guess...," he finally answered Nate, still a little awkward.

Nate nodded before looking to me. He still had his reservations, judging from the twitch in his expression, but for Wanda's sake, he kept his cool.

"I'm sorry for treating you badly," he said reluctantly. "With the football and just generally."

God, it was so hard not to laugh in his face right now. His nose had gauze taped to it and it made him look like an idiot. I fake coughed to disguise my smile, before meeting his gaze.

"It's, er, cool," I said, not in the mood to be an arsehole to him, even though he deserved it. I'd punched him – I think we were equal for now.

He nodded, before staying quiet. Glancing to Wanda, he waited for her to say something. She rolled her eyes and nodded for him to leave. When he was gone, she sighed tiredly.

"I only heard about what happened after Chem class," she said, mainly to me, a guilty expression on her lips. "I'm so sorry he acted like a jerk."

I chewed my lip, unsure what to say.

"It's okay, Y/N here took care of it," Y/BF/N said, smiling with amusement at me. Okay, well now she definitely knew.

"Yeah, sorry you felt you had to do that," she said with a grimace. "I guess he deserved it though."

"Kind of," I agreed, before noticing the regretful frown on her lips. "He apologised though. It's already happened. I kinda broke his nose... No point in dwelling on it."

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah..." Her eyes fell to my bruised hand before lifting it gently. I winced at the ache, but let her hold it, studying the purple bruise painted across my knuckles. "That looks bad."

It felt good punching him though, but I wasn't about to say that since it was her boyfriend I was talking about.

"It's alright," I said dismissively, shrugging. "Nate kind of got it worse. I'll live."

The pad of her thumb stroked the bruise gently and I held my breath, the feeling of her hands holding mine sending shivers up my arm. Her eyes flickered to mine, softened with guilt, before she let go of my hand.

"I should head home," she said after a pause. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Y/BF/N said for both of us, sensing my loss of words.

Wanda held my gaze once more, eyes half lidded as they glanced down. Before I could even question what she was looking at, she waved goodbye and left.

"She's either starting to realise what a dick her boyfriend is or she's just really into you," Y/BF/N said, patting me on the back. "Maybe both, who knows?"

—

"You definitely cheated," I told Y/BF/N once we finished yet another round of air hockey. "Nobody wins six times in a row like that!"

He laughed at my expression. "Tell me, dear Y/N. How would I cheat? The concept of the game is simple, really. It's not my fault you're terrible."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Seventh time's the charm. C'mon."

He chuckled, about to put more money in the machine, before his eyes got distracted by something behind me. "Well, would you look at that. The Maximoff twins are here."

"Very funny," I said with a knowing look. "You can't throw me off like that. We've established I'm already terrible. Now c'mon. Let's go!"

"I wish I was joking," he said, shaking his head.

I scoffed, not believing him, and turned around to prove him wrong, but I was surprised when I saw Wanda and Pietro walking into the arcade we were in. They seemed to spot us instantly, waving in our direction before approaching us.

"Fancy seeing you here," Pietro teased with a smile as they stopped before us.

I cracked a smile as Y/BF/N joined my side. "We're hanging out. And you?"

Wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder, he tugged Wanda close to him. "Sibling bonding time."

Wanda rolled her eyes at his childishness, but I could tell she found it endearing all the same.

"Well, if you want, you can hang with us," Y/BF/N offered, and we all looked to him, myself raising a brow his way. He seemed to sense my reluctance, it egging him on as he grinned at them. "Y/N doesn't mind. Do you, Y/N?"

I swallowed hard as I looked between the twins. "'Course not."

And that's how I found myself playing arcade games with the Maximoff twins that Saturday afternoon. It was actually pretty fun, with Pietro being as competitive as I was and Wanda being the sweetest loser with everything she played. It was so adorable, but I ended up letting her win some games of skee-ball just so I could see that cute nose scrunch of hers as she realised she'd won.

"You gonna let me win like that, too?" Pietro caught on as he took his sister's place in playing against me. He had a mischievous grin on his lips and I felt my mouth go dry at what he was implying.

"You wish," I said, playing it cool, though I wondered if he cared that I clearly let Wanda win. He wouldn't read into it, right?

Pietro took his go as he spoke. "So, I heard what happened with you and Nate at school last week."

I closed my eyes, cringing at the reminder. Pietro merely laughed.

"You kicked him super hard, right?" he asked excitedly. "I heard his face went so red with anger that you could fry an egg on it! And don't forget that punch, goddamn what I would pay to have seen that!"

"Pietro!" Wanda scolded from behind us as her and Y/BF/N played air hockey. "Don't be a tool!"

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment as Pietro continued to laugh. Y/BF/N joined in whilst Wanda tried to hide the smile dancing on her lips.

"You're not even together anymore," Pietro called to Wanda between laughter. Wait, did I hear that right?

"You and Nate broke up?" Y/BF/N asked with disbelief. "Our grade's 'it' couple broke up?"

Wanda ran a hand through her hair to distract from her flittering eyes. "He treated you horribly last week. Both of you." She glanced my way before looking at her shoes. "He was a jerk. It was long overdue... Also, I would have broken up with him there and then had I known what he'd said to you. I'm sorry he said what he did."

She stared at me with apologetic eyes and I wasn't sure what to say or do other than nod awkwardly and look away. The fact that she'd broken up with him put a smile on my face though.

"I just think it's awesome," Pietro admitted, before saluting playfully to me. "Thank you for your service. I knew you were awesome, but this is a whole new level."

I sighed, attempting to hide my smile, before straightening up to play. Pietro and I played some skee-ball before I decided to have a go at the claw machine. Wanda was at the one beside me, attempting to win herself a fluffy black cat plush toy. She'd had three goes before giving up, admitting to defeat.

"Typical Wanda," Pietro teased. "Giving up when the going gets tough."

She punched him in the arm, making him jump and rub it. That elicited a smile from her, making me laugh at their immaturity.

"How about Wanda and I go and get a table in the diner next door whilst you finish up winning whatever it is you're trying to win?" Y/BF/N asked, looking to me, as if assigning blame.

"I already told you, I'm not leaving this machine until I win at least one thing," I stated stubbornly.

"The amount of money you've put into the machine won't make up for whatever you win," Y/BF/N teased with amusement.

"Just go," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I'll be there soon."

"I'll wait with her," Pietro said, resting a hand on my shoulder, making me shrug him off jokingly. "See you soon," he added with a laugh, to his sister and Y/BF/N.

When they left, I looked to Pietro with an amused smile. "I don't need you to look after me, y'know."

He shrugged and looked through the glass of the claw machine. "I know. But I stayed to give you some advice, princess."

"Oh, really? And what advice is that?" I asked, before putting some coins in the machine to have another go.

"People usually tend to win these things for people they like, right?" he asked, nodding to the plush toys in the machine.

"Or for themselves," I corrected with a curious smile. "Take Wanda for example. How badly did she want that cat?"

He crossed his arms, smiling with amusement. "You could win it for her, y'know."

"What?" I asked, half paying attention as I attempted to grab a teddy bear.

"Win the cat for my sister and give it to her?"

I ended up dropping the teddy from the claw as I looked to Pietro with shock. He laughed at my expression, leaning against the machine.

"You do like her, right? Otherwise this is awkward," he added as an afterthought, looking down and smiling to himself.

My jaw hung open. "I– er– I never really– I don't–"

"She must definitely like you," Pietro noted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips as I found my words. "Did she," I cleared my throat, "did she say something?"

"Well, no," he said, "but she looks like she wants to murder me every time I hang out with you."

"That's just a coincidence," I said, shaking my head and looking back to the machine. "She's not–" I thought about, before shaking my head again. "No."

I appreciated Pietro's help, but Wanda definitely didn't like me like that. She was just protective of her brother and friendly to me. It didn't mean anything.

"Look, you don't have to listen to me," he said, straightening up and looking at the machine as I slotted another coin in. "But you could give it a shot. See what happens."

I glanced at him, his blue eyes watching me knowingly, a matching smirk on his lips.

"Fine," I gave in, hoping it wouldn't backfire. "Let's see what happens..."

[uncloseted]

What are your thoughts on critical race theory and how it's being taught or should be taught in schools? Everyone seems to have a different idea of what is being taught and it's hard to keep up. I've heard extreme stories about certain schools but I've also heard that those are mostly people on the right exaggerating. Thank you for answering these political questions and giving such well thought out responses!

Okay so... there's a lot to unpack within the discussion of "critical race theory". I'm going to give a primer of what it is, how it is (and isn't) being used in schools, what the controversy is, and then I'll give my opinions at the end.

What is Critical Race Theory?

"Critical Race Theory" is a previously obscure academic concept. It's an approach to studying US policies and institutions and is typically taught in higher-education institutions like law schools or schools of social work. It's been in use since the 70s, when law professors began considering how racism shapes American law. Basically, Critical Race Theory states that intentional and unintentional racial bias are baked into the way our institutions and legal system functions. CRT is a way of examining how "racism is sustained more through law, policy and practices than through individual bias and discrimination," in the words of Boston University law professor Jasmine Gonzales Rose. It's focused on shifting our attention away from individual people's bad actions (what we commonly think of as being "racism") to instead center how systems uphold racial disparities.

Where did the Controversy about Critical Race Theory Come From?

After the murder of George Floyd last year and the resulting Black Lives Matter protests, these same topics were introduced to public consciousness. Is our police system racist? Are people of color disproportionately likely to be arrested and imprisoned for crimes, even though white people commit crimes at the same rate? (The answer to these questions is yes, just so we're clear). Are there ways in which racial bias is baked into our legal system? There were a lot of people around that time who became aware that our systems are discriminatory, and, as with everything, a lot of people who pushed back against anything actually changing.

Here's where the whole thing gets a bit convoluted. The debate over "critical race theory" can be traced to just one person- Christopher Rufo, a fellow at a conservative think tank. On September 2nd of 2020, Rufo appeared on Fox News's show, "Tucker Carlson Tonight". On the show, Rufo claimed that "critical race theory" had "pervaded every institution in the federal government" and called on President Trump to ban "critical race theory" in federal workforce trainings. It's somewhat unclear why he thought this to begin with. In that same conversation, Rufo deemed "critical race theory" "divisive, un-American propaganda". From there, this idea that "critical race theory" (used as "a catchall phrase for any examination of systemic racism" or even as a catchall phrase to denote anything advocating for social change, as opposed to the principles of Critical Race Theory that are actually used in educational institutions) is infiltrating our government took off on Twitter.

By September 17th of 2020, Trump was denouncing "critical race theory" and had created the 1776 Commission to "promote patriotic education". The 1776 Commission was in direct opposition to the 1619 Project, a Pulitzer Prize winning, long-form journalism project developed for The New York Times, which aims to explore American history through African-American perspectives. The 1619 Project was being used as a tool in public school curricula to help students understand the impact of slavery on modern society. It's important to note here that at no point was Critical Race Theory being taught in schools except at the university level, and that the 1619 Project is not based in Critical Race Theory. When discussing the 1776 Commission, Trump said, "we want our sons and daughters to know the truth. America is the greatest and most exceptional nation in the history of the world. Our country wasn't built by cancel culture, speech codes, and crushing conformity. We are not a nation of timid spirits."

To recap: Rufo introduces this concept of "critical race theory" to the conservative media on September 2nd. In his context, "critical race theory" has no real definition and has been divorced from actual Critical Race Theory. 15 days later, Trump adopts "critical race theory" as a major theme in his campaign, using the 1619 project to justify his claims that "critical race theory" is being taught to "our children" in schools, and he founds the 1776 Commission to provide an alternative narrative of American history. Conservative media outlets jump onto the "critical race theory" debate, but without a clear idea of what Critical Race Theory is (which is why it seems like there's a lot of different ideas about what it is and what's being taught) in an attempt to push for limits on teaching practices relating to racism.

In 2021, Joe Biden dissolved the 1776 Commission, but bills were introduced in Florida, Idaho, Iowa, Oklahoma, Tennessee, and Texas to "restrict teaching critical race theory in public schools". In some cases, these bills single out the 1619 Project in particular, even though it is not based in Critical Race Theory. Other bills have an even larger ban on programs that involve social justice in general.

I'm not familiar with any "extreme stories" about "critical race theory" being taught in K-12 schools, but if you want to send ones you come across my way, I'm happy to discuss the veracity of those claims.

As for my opinion, I think it's good that students are being introduced to the ways in which our country's history has impacted the way our country's systems are built, and it's good that they're being introduced to the ways in which those systems are discriminatory. 48% of Gen Z are POC. 50%(ish) of Gen Z is female. 15.9% of Gen Z is LGBT. We're becoming more diverse as a society, and so the ways in which people are discriminated against are more visible, even to kids. It's important that kids understand (in an age-appropriate way) what discrimination is, why it happens, and what they can do about it.

Kids who are POC or female or obviously gender-divergent don't get the luxury of being able to ignore discrimination. Black kids are aware of "critical race theory" (the way that society systemically discriminates against them) from the get-go. Nobody is arguing that we should be telling white six year olds that they're evil for being white or that their parents are evil for being white. They're saying that a white six year old will notice that they're being treated differently than their Black best friend, and they'll know that's unfair. It's better to respond to their questions about fairness with an acknowledgement that things aren't fair, but we can work to fix them, instead of insisting that there is no problem, and that we are the "Greatest and Most Exceptional Nation In The History of The World".

Our current educational system does a lot of whitewashing when it comes to US History. Just think back to any celebration you had of Columbus Day or Thanksgiving in school, where they make it seem like the colonists and Native Americans were friends. It's important that instead of whitewashing our history, we acknowledge that many people were, and still are, hurt by that history. It's important to center non-white voices in those curricula, because without them, the story we're telling isn't true. History classes should not be a stage for American nationalist propaganda, and yet that's what they become when we insist on only teaching about the "good" things we've done.

Do I think that the 1619 Project is the way to go about that goal? Not necessarily. There are legitimate criticisms that can and have been made about that project, and I agree with some of them. Likewise, I think actual Critical Race Theory is too advanced for your average K-12 student, and it's not the best framework for teaching these topics. There are educators much smarter than I am who can (and have) come up with age-appropriate curricula to talk about these topics. But it's important that we allow for and encourage discussion of those topics, and putting a blanket ban over anything social justice related isn't going to make that happen.

[retphienix]

There are so many fucking games I want to play for the blog and I hypothetically have the time, but the energy, the attention span, the drive?

In more positive terms here are some various titles I plan to give a shot for the blog.

Let's do a 5am state of the blog kind of thing to clear some thoughts, eh?

Morrowind (Current Game ramble)

For the moment the blog is more or less on break with me playing Morrowind ""For the blog"" but mostly for me, because that's just a game I've wanted to explore. Not that every other game on the blog isn't that, just that I looked at Morrowind and said "That'll be a terrible game to present naturally. That's a stream game, or a condensed video, not a liveblog" and then did it anyway.

I'm loving Morrowind! Honestly the sense of mystery, fantasy, and adventure is just chef kiss levels of perfect to me.

But it's terrible in a photoset, I'm not particularly interested in doing another format for the game, and it's a game with less 'intense narrative themes!' and more 'Incredibly different game design compared to modern Bethesda' in terms of discussion material and let's all be real here:

We're all fucking tired of that conversation lol.

So there ain't much to talk on in depth, it's more of a "Here's a newbie seeing new things!" playthrough with nothing to talk about after the fact, which ain't a strong point for the blog- again- that's a stream/video kind of thing.

ANYWHO- Morrowind fun, about the only news I can offer on that series is that it might abruptly end and become a 'for me' series because I'm not particularly interested in beating the game nearly as much as I'm interested in exploring aimlessly and seeing what happens.

I'm not playing Morrowind for the end goal of beating the main quest, or beating the DLCs. I'm playing it to wander into caves and find new pants, so if I reach a point where I'm satisfied with what I've shared and my motivation has not borne a new end goal then I'll end the live blog and move on to a new game :P

Backlog

The short statement I'll make is that this blog is a hell for my backlog.

Even without infinite money on hand I've ended up with so many physical and digital games just sitting here waiting to be played either because they caught my eye or because of recommendations by various people over the years.

I keep sitting down, cataloguing my backlog, realizing it's pointless to catalog, deleting it all, and then starting over yet again.

The fact is, if anyone recommended it it's probably still sitting in a text document somewhere, or physically on my shelf, and I don't remotely know when I'll get to it.

I've yet to hit the point where I decide to turn this blog into work, so I have never sat down and gone "Well, Retphienix NEEDS to post! Sit down, 8-12 hours minimum, let's play the next game!"

And part of me wishes I'd do that, but the fact is this isn't a job. There's no money here, there's the opposite even! I don't remotely see it that way, but if you squint and tilt your head I've spent a lot of money on this blog over the years.

Capture devices (a lot of them!), consoles specifically bought for the blog, controllers out the wazoo, I've gone through multiple computers for this thing, and the games, my lord the games- so many games.

And that's fiscally, what about manpower? So many hours have gone into this blog, so many hours poured into the background of making all this work, researching shit, putting my all into formulating my opinions clearly for posts, writing, hell video shit even though it's mostly clips as my one step into edited content became an impromptu awkward hiatus from doing more lol.

What was I on about.

Despite all that nonsense, Retphienix is a passion project. Not a job.

If I lack the passion in some sense then the work doesn't get done "just for the sake of the work". And I don't mean lost passion as much as "No motivation on x day; tired on y day; interested in doing something else on z day" etc.

If things aren't clickin' I don't force it, so the blog has all this backlog and isn't put together in a way that facilitates burning through it quickly.

I do sometimes wish things were different though, I know I'd still enjoy such a playstyle, but I can't justify "faking it til you make it" in a format that literally isn't built to pay and was never intended to.

I can't work myself for nothin'.

Hypothetical "Next" games

While the backlog is a wild wasteland of titles, there are some that just kinda guarantee their spots sooner rather than later.

Yakuza 6 and 7 along with Judgment, obviously. The series is one of my all time favorites and I generally have some of my absolute most fun on the blog side of things with those games, so it's a winner on two fronts. It's just fun to react to, post out of context things for, and talk with other fans about and for whatever reason tumblr has a healthy enough fanbase for the series that my meager blog gets some attention there.

Dragon Quest has a strangely weighted chance all things considered. DQ has many of the same advantages as Yakuza- it's a series I adore, it's fun to talk about in this format, and the fandom is big enough to occasionally spill my way making the blogging experience a bit more fun. It's also a series where I don't know what'd come next to be fair. Probably DQ4? I mean, might as well continue on from that point since I have 1-3 done. I can't exactly justify replaying the entirety of DQ11 no matter how much I want to! Turning on the games above gave me DQ goosebumps which kinda settled how likely it is to show up sooner rather than later, lol.

Jeez. I looked at one of my surviving lists and that's like all that's popping out at me.

Other series feel like giant leaps with no gas in the tank, like do I want to start playing Kingdom Hearts? Not really, not right now. Do I finally play Lisa? Eeeeeeh. Persona? Hmmmm.

I haven't the fuzziest. There are so many one off interesting titles, but if the drive ain't there they might as well be textbooks.

Perhaps instead of any major next game I'll just do some afternoons exploring random titles for a bit here and there with no intention of beating em.

The idea is enticing as hell, but the feeling of not giving the game's a "real shake" feels bad.

We'll see. The only certainties seem to be Yakuza and DQ, as much as I'd prefer far more.

Side project hypotheticals

Outside of the basic live blog stuff I'm still interested in exploring scripted stuff. Mostly to prove to myself that I can overcome some anxieties and break from the meandering pace the last effort gave- I can write! That much I know! So just gotta trick myself into writing for a video and then make the video after the fact lol.

Current thoughts are on a video exploring the monster taming sub-genre. It's a genre near and dear to my heart, and one I know some weird things about as is- but mostly it's a genre I KNOW I know very little about despite that, so I'd like to give it an overall look, or perhaps just explore some random entries, I haven't a clue lol. I'd mostly like an opportunity to talk about some interesting entries in the genre, things like explaining my adoration for DWM while explaining how the flaws make it really rough today, or the interesting mash of genres that is Lost Magic, or the more modern take that mashes idle-like mechanics with Siralim Ultimate.

Won't lie, playing the demo for Monster Hunter Stories 2 threw a wrench in that plan because it made me want to talk about it and how the genre might have a new breath of life after really grinding to a halt as pokemon became what it is today, but all to be seen or not lol.

As far as other things like streams? Not really.

The concept of writing a bit more on games is tickling the back of my head lately, but that mostly just means "more posts that aren't live-blogging" as I haven't the fuzziest where I'd share such nonsense.

Really it's all up in the air as far as retphienix content is concerned, beyond the live blogging obviously.

5am closing

It's fun to explore what games have to offer, both on the individual level, the personal level, and as a whole- as a medium.

So I like Retphienix.

And I like all I've made here.

I hope to continue for a long, long time- no matter what future formats might look like.

[dragonofdarknesschaos]

I've been thinking (because I'm quarantined and bored, sorry )..how it could be possible for Jack to form a good friendship? ...I mean even if a person shows affection, good intentions or a real interest on his stuff... the chance of Jack's betrayal is still there. I don't know I'm wondering ..if he can have a healthy friendship.

*cackles*  Jack Spicer, as he is in XS, is not capable of forming a stable and healthy relationship, despite the fact that he desperately wants and needs one.  And if that ain’t the tragedy of the whole series.

The Jack of Showdown

Just when Jack finally starts to actually warm up and be open and honest about his feelings with others, he either gets grossly mistreated (“The Deep Freeze,” “The Apprentice”) or is presented with the choice of being loved and accepted, despite who he is and what he’s done, or giving in to his baser instincts and double crossing his new would-be friends to get praised by someone who could not care less about him (“The Apprentice”).  It’s difficult to tell if Jack feels he doesn’t deserve to be happy for some deep and personal reason, or if he’s so focused on being seen as EVIL™ and not good; that he believes he must take any and all opportunities to prove his evil worth.  Whatever the reason, the Jack in XS would need someone that will stick by his side no matter what decisions he makes, or what actions he takes to push that person away.  Someone who unconditionally supports him and wants to be by his side.  The problem is, that’s more of a pet and has the potential to become quite toxic.

The Jack of Chronicles

As for the Jack of XC, he has some boundaries, and he’s not quite as ruthless.  He knows he’s kind of a loser, but he still really wants a girlfriend to help boost his sense of masculine ego.  But more importantly, he just wants a friend, to the point that he was willing to pay people to hang out with him (just like in XS “Something Jermaine,” “Judging Omi” and XC’s “Magic Stallion and the Wild Wild West,” “Buddy Blue Ray and the Golden Bunnies,” and “Heal Me”).

Jack enjoys Wuya’s company, but she gets frustrated with his lack of action in favor of building capital or just having fun (the Golden Toilet arc, “Super Cow Patty,” “Tokyo Madness,” and “Omi Saves the Holidays” among many others).  Jack seems to have moved out of his parent’s basement, and is now in his own warehouse/factory, so he’s really trying to focus on starting up his Evil Business idea and often refers to himself as an “evil entrepreneur” throughout the series.  While Wuya appreciates the “go get ‘em” spirit, she still feels that Jack isn’t doing enough to help her, which is the whole reason they teamed up in the first place.  Because of her nagging attitude and matriarchal approach to the relationship, Jack often feels smothered and refuses to act.  However, he still has boundaries and refuses to do certain things if they are not in his interests as well (“Back in the Flesh Again”).

Jack and Shadow

With Wuya as Jack’s pseudo-mother, he needs a datemate to call his own.  Gone is his curiosity in Kimiko (though he does seem to think she’s still cool), but if it’s any other girl, he will do his best to impress her.

Case in point Willow--who he tried to ask on a date if he won the Showdown Trio in “The Fall of Xiaolin.”  She strongly states that she isn’t interested in him in the least, and because the two never see each other again, I would assume Jack dropped the pursuit.

Shadow on the other hand, he likely sees a lot of himself in her.  They’re both evil, admire Chase, they seem about the same age, and... that’s about where the similarities end.  Shadow’s actions say that she is repulsed by Jack, but she never pushes him away, and even praises his “doo-hickies” (“The Laws of Nature,” “Rocco”).  With the use of camera drones, Jack witnessed a lot of the private behavior and abuse between Chase and Shadow, and even some of the abuse in person ( “Tigress Woo,” “Rocco”).  Even the cold open of “Who Shrunk Master Fung?” features Jack being very careful not to harm a strange bird, who is later revealed to be Shadow.  Case in point, the Jack of XC has a streak of kindness in him, and it is unclear if Shadow sees that and resents Jack for having it, or if she admires that aspect of him.  Regardless, after the events of “The Laws of Nature,” where Jack effectively double crosses Chase (and her by extension), Shadow likely made the choice to never trust Jack completely.  She double crosses him at the end of their wonderful team up in “Back in the Flesh Again.”  And Jack doesn’t even get upset or angry about the loss and betrayal.  He’s even more smitten and tries to brag to Omi and Ping Pong before realizing they aren’t into it and flies off.

Overall Jack and Shadow have feasible grounds for a relationship--even a romantic one--if they could both create some honesty and trust between each other, but neither is willing to do that, despite Jack’s over sharing (literally every time he opens his mouth around Chase).  For further reading on Jack’s relationship with Shadow and Chase, check out this post.

Jack doesn’t interact with Tigress, Kimiko’s older sister, much, but he does bother to keep tabs on her and warns Kimiko about her sister’s more nefarious activities (“Tigress Woo”).  It’s unclear if he did this in an effort to get closer to the Monks as a friend, or if he was stalking Tigress because he was attracted to her.  In either case, Tigress is never seen again or mentioned by Jack.

Jack’s Other Interests

There are a handful of episodes in XC that revolve around Jack seeing or meeting another evil-doer and fixating on them, often trying to model himself after them in some fashion.  He does this with PandaBubba to a lesser extent in “Magic Stallion and the Wild Wild West,” then goes full blown fan for Super Cow Patty (in his self-titled episode) and later Le Mime in the same episode, making fan videos and full costumes with personas for both his fixations.  In both instances with the truly evil characters (PB and Le Mime), Jack was looking for a sense of acceptance by an Evil Businessman and entrepreneurial peer, and a sense of belonging to a larger community with Le Mime and his henchmen.  That desire for belonging to a larger community is reiterated earlier in the series with “Heal Me” and Reverse!Jack’s cult.

However, when presented with an actual fan of his, Tiny Sim, Jack is actually somewhat reluctant to have the fan tag along with him.  And maybe that was for the best, as Jack soon discovers that the fan he inspired to become Evil is actually a lot better at it than he, himself, is (“Drawn to be Evil”).  In retaliation, Jack confines the fan to being just a creative idea intern.  Jack is essentially taking credit for all of Tiny Sim’s ideas, and not paying the kid a thing.  Sim, either because he’s doing what his idol taught, or because he feels cheated, makes it a priority to take a Wu or two when he can out of Jack’s stash (“Mark of the Dragon Spirit”).  Sadly, the series ended before the relationship between these two could be further developed.  It wouldn’t have been healthy, but at least it would have been something.

Another important note, Jack does make the clear distinction in both series that the gallery of sellswords he pays to be around him are only in it as long as there’s money for them to be had.  They are not his friends, they will never be his true friends, they’re just people he pays until the money runs out (“Something Jermaine,” “Judging Omi”).  So Katnappe, Tubbimura, Cyclops (after their initial debut), and to a lesser extent Vlad will never truly be Jack’s friends.  Vlad does make a return in XS’s “The Demon Seed” to try and cheer Jack up (not that he’s very good at it), but he doesn’t seem to want anything from Jack other than to do evil things and pal around.  This is a bit of a departure from their first encounter where Jack was presumably paying Vlad to be his hired muscle and inside man (“The Deep Freeze”).

Jack’s Robots

Jack’s relationship with his various Jackbots and other robots is an interesting one.  It’s possible that he created them out of a sick sense of wanting to have friends that he could control, but it comes back more to how the bots are presented in both series.

The Jackbots of XS seem to have a hive mind of sorts, as they will blindly (and sometimes literally) follow their master’s commands.  Those that fall are replaced as if nothing happened to the fallen Jackbot; their numbers are legion.  The bots are later programmed with emotions and feel sadness, but not fear.  This is interesting, because Jack is shown having temper tantrums from time to time, but he doesn’t break things, only tosses them around (“The Journey of A Thousand Miles”).

Jack’s relationship with the more “custom” humanoid robots is split into a binary.  On the one side are the bots that went rogue and have tried to annihilate him or simply want nothing to do with him: Chameleon Bot, Robo!Jack, and the patent-pending Shen Gong Wu Detect-o-bot.  On the other side are the bots he grew very attached to: Yesbot, his Cheerbot squad, and the Shen Gong Wu Detect-o-bot before it went rogue.  Both Yes~ and Detect-o~ allow Jack to be more of a child, as he is depicted being held like a scared child with both of them (if I remember correctly.  “Oil in the Family,” “The Demon Seed”).  He treats them like the parent he doesn’t have around.  The Cheerbots are his hott Barbie dolls that he gets to dress up and maintain.  He doesn’t go much farther than projecting personalities and life problems onto them.  Eventually they are absorbed into the Jackbot hive.

Remember how Jackbots don’t show or know fear in XS?  XC opens with Jack having a tantrum, and many of his various designs of bot run away from him.  Jack is left cornering Chefbot, who has darts sticking out of his chef’s hat.  Rather peculiar for robots to be afraid of their master, especially since they are meant to be hoards of drones.  As Chefbot is developed as a character, Jack comes to respect his creation more, but Chefbot says he has no interest in hanging around someone like Jack; he wants to go places and be a real chef!  He can’t do that if he’s making paltry snacks for Jack.  Chefbot’s last appearance in the series is on a cooking show (either on TV or YouLook) making pizza, while Jack follows along from his RV.  Jack seems quite relaxed and at ease, even using the Banyan Twister Shen Gong Wu to stretch his body and the pizza dough.  It is never stated, but perhaps Jack is proud of his creation accomplishing it’s dream.

Thank You for Being a Friend

In conclusion, the Jack of XS is incapable of having a healthy friendship with anyone, either because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it or because he really is just a terrible person and pushes everyone away.  He would need someone to stand by and support him no matter what he does and no matter how horribly he treats that person.  Such a relationship has the potential to become toxic if boundaries are not set and if Jack doesn’t grow as a person.

The Jack of XC is desperate for a single friend, but 98% of the cast sees him as a pathetic loser, and not worth a second of their time.  Those that do see value in Jack’s companionship have all been hurt by Jack’s betrayal and lack of trust, or have betrayed Jack, because they have no trust in him (often from a previous encounter).  For this Jack to form a stable friendship, he needs someone who he can talk to honestly, openly, and not be judged for his feelings, and he seems to want someone who talks the same way to him.  He’s ready for a relationship, he just doesn’t have the rapport or trust built up with anyone.

TL;DR

Jack lacks basic trust in all his relationships.  He would need someone he can constantly count on, while also setting healthy and reasonable boundaries with that person.  If honesty and trust--ABSOLUTE TRUST--is there, Jack can have a friend, maybe even something more.

[ngame989]

I'm new to writing fanfic, and always work solo, so when I saw you have a whole team at your disposal, it blew my mind. I've got a list of questions about that: 1. How did you guys find each other and get started? 2. How does your work flow look for a story vs. a page/chapter of the comic? 3. How much do you love having an editor? 4. How does your work change from draft to final? 5. The quality of your prose is very consistent, is that just you as a writer, or is it your team keeping you good?

1. Seddm, EA, and Dino were all good friends of mine from the fandom from before or during Season 3 (I started watching the show between 2B and BFM). Toxic started watching the show sometime in late 2018 and messaged me on Tumblr for some sort of formatting help, or tips and tricks for getting posts more noticed in the fandom or something? I don’t remember and Tumblr DMs are awful to navigate, but we quickly bonded over what really matters most.

Lawchan had been a longtime follower of the show and fanfic author who inspired me to get into it back after 3A and we started talking and became friends at some point in the last year or so. BMC popped into my askbox when I opened it up to headcanon suggestions and ended up sending me over 100 in a span of 3 days that were all wonderful and creative so we started talking more. This really is a “team” in a loose sense, I just have a ton of awesome and creative and supportive friends willing to help out with this.

Oddly enough, this project started less than a day after (and was inspired by) Lake House Fever. I had already been thinking about getting back into fanfiction writing after S4 ended and we were pissed and salty and just needed good Starco thoughts so I hit him up and we started chatting and thought “huh wait a Star and Marco section of a family photo album would be a cool concept for some sort of series” and it evolved from there. We’d planned out a lot of the basics for the comic before the show ended and were waiting on the canon resolution before going any further, and Cleaved shook a lot up for what the postcanon status quo would be, so my whole aforementioned group all sat in a Discord channel on and off for literally 8+ hours the day after Cleaved and roundtable’d the entire backbone of the Earthni timeline for almost every major character (so if there’s people in the credits for TGG that haven’t shown up directly in any works yet, that’s where they contributed).

2.  Overall I’m the project lead and head writer so the majority of specific ideas, what should this page have or where is the story going, etc, come from me although anything we do gets signed off on by at LEAST me, Toxic, and Seddm first.  For comics, I usually plan the concept (Star goes here, these people are talking to each other, happy or sad, etc) and then let Toxic do his thing - he’s great already but is SUUUUUUUUPER amazingly wonderful at reading my mind and making visuals that represent my thoughts even better than the visuals in my head for them. He’ll do a rough page layout and sketch, we workshop that, then he does line-art, we look for any issues or revisions there, then he colors as I make the dialogue.  Usually takes a few days of back and forth.

Honestly my workflow for writing fics is absolute ass and you should not learn from us (ESPECIALLY me) if you’re getting into the game, hahahaha. Every day that I say I’m gonna write something, I usually end up dicking around at my computer until 1 AM and THEN decide to write a little bit and lose sleep over it. A lot of Glow was written between 2 and 6 AM on a Saturday night. I’m ridiculously nitpicky of my own work and half the time before I even finish typing a sentence I’m already erasing it because I decided it was dumb or did something wrong, which makes drafts take F O R E V E R, but the silver lining is that my first draft is already very polished by the time it’s done.

Overall, we play to our strengths - Seddm and I are general idea guys, “wouldn’t it be funny/cool if X” or “we should tell a story about Y” etc, and Toxic is especially wonderful at coming up with fantastic visual designs or gags or whatever else. So there’s plenty of times where I’ll give him the rough outline for a comic page and he’ll slip in some goofy background thing that makes it so much better, or I’ll give him a joke idea and it’ll work amazingly. I also like to call Seddm my “internal debate moderator”. When I’m struggling to figure out what to do for something, I’m often torn between a few ideas. Getting outside advice on it can obviously be really helpful, but there are times that it leaves me even more confused about what to do. But because my and Seddm’s understandings of the characters and senses of design and humor are so damn similar, he can basically serve as both a neutral voice and still part of my own thought process at the same time, which really helps me get my own personal ideas in order before running them by others.

3. Editors are great and wonderful and perfect and I love my friends to death for graciously helping week in and week out with this when I ping them with “hey guys shat this out, sun has been up for an hour so im gonna go fucking die now bye”. As stated earlier, perhaps my need for one isn’t AS high because I self-edit so compulsively as I go, but it’s soooooooo easy to get caught up in your own head and intentions and not spot obvious issues with your own writing that outside voices help a ton.

4. Whoops I guess I answered already. Very little.

5. Given that edits don’t change much about the structure of my writing, I guess it’s me - thanks! But my team is great about keeping me in line with my own vision in editing and hitting any lines that just seem out of place. There was one particular cut line in Glow that I won’t post here that was easily a full standard deviation of naughty greater than the rest of the fic’s tone (unintentional, it was very late -_-) and that got caught and shot down real quick lmfao.

[toast-the-unknowing]

HI! I wanted to say that I really love your writing and I get really excited to see notifications that you've posted new work! And I was just curious if you worked in an office of some kind, and if so how do you find the time/motivation to sit in front of the computer and write personal work. It's just something I've been struggling with myself, and I wanted to ask if you had any similar experiences. If the answer is no, then no worries :) Thanks again!

Oh, that's a tough one, Anon.

I do currently work in an office -- as An Adult I've had an array of jobs, all of them either retail or customer service or "office assistant in a field I don't care about." And I’m sure that every job has the power to take away from your creative work, just as a simple matter of resources -- time and energy spent working can't be spent writing -- but there's something extra challenging about jobs you don't like, jobs you're doing just because you have to. They take so much out of you.

Motivation is one of my personal crosses to bear. I don't have it. I consistently struggle to find the motivation to do basic life tasks. So I don't know that I have answers for you, but I definitely have sympathy.

I also have, like, so many more words than I thought, so they’re going behind a cut.

When motivation is in short supply, the stuff that has to happen or you will literally die comes first. That's okay. It gets to come first. If I put on clothing and show up for work and eat some kind of food at some point, I got through the day. That's an accomplishment. And sometimes doing that uses up all my motivation for the day. Sometimes I can't even get up that much motivation, let alone do anything else. That sucks, but it happens.

But it doesn't happen every single day.

Some days have more motivation than others. Some seconds have more motivation than others. Why can I do the thing in this one second when for weeks it's been blocked like a grayed-out option on a computer menu? I don't know. But I could. Motivation is weird like that. You never know when it will show up, so you have to give yourself opportunities.

You know your office better than I do -- is the culture "get the work done on time and we don't care what you do" or "YOU MUST PERFORM 'PERFECT EMPLOYEE' AT ALL TIMES"? What's the layout of your desk? Can people read over your shoulder? How nosy are your bosses/coworkers? How strict are the internet controls your IT department uses? How busy are you? What are your own particular psychological quirks and philosophical attitudes? What's your anxiety look like?

It may be that "work on my writing while on the clock" is not an option for you. I get that; in the time I've been an office worker, I've been all over the place, from "my own writing is what I spend the majority of my time on while I'm at work" to "I won't even touch my writing on a company computer." Right now is closer toward the latter. But, if writing at work is an option for you, now, don't lose out because your current project is saved to a .docx file on your home desktop. Make it so that if you had to, you could write under literally ANY circumstance. I carry a Chromebook with me everywhere. Before that I carried a composition notebook and a pen at all times. I know people who write fics in draft emails or the notes app on their phone.

When time and motivation are scarce, you have to build in the opportunity anywhere that you are able to. Those might not be the same opportunities that work for other people. I've heard established writers say things to newer writers like "if you don't have the time during the day, just wake up earlier," and that's so discouraging and heartbreaking for me to hear. "Wake up earlier" isn't an option for me. "Wake up on time" is barely an option for me. Getting out of bed is a bottleneck for all of my motivation issues to all run into each other at the same time. But "work on the bus" does work for me. Not every single day. Maybe one day I'm tired. Maybe the bus is really full. Maybe the person I'm sitting next to looks like my mother and that makes it weird to write about boys kissing. Maybe the one fic I really really really want to work on that day is porn, and no I'm not going to do that on the bus/at work/on my lunch break. Maybe I pull out my Chromebook and open it and look at my fic with every intention of working on it and just.....nothing happens, for forty minutes, and then I'm embarrassed and put it away. That's fine. Because if I do write something on one of those commutes or lunch breaks or "just gotta kill time" evenings even once, then it was worth it. If I give myself lots of opportunities, then even if I don't take most of them, I still get stuff done I wouldn't otherwise.

Little bits COUNT. If all you manage to write is "in this scene the characters argue" THAT COUNTS. You wrote a thing. Because the next time you write, that can become "in this scene the characters argue about money and Adam storms off". And then the next time it can be "the characters argue about money and Adam storms off and Blue says something really cutting to Gansey and Gansey is crushed." And then, and then, and then.

It sucks to write a story one tortured sentence at a time, but it can be done, and sometimes that's the only way that it does get done. Some days all I do is turn [gansey says hi] into "Hello," Gansey said, and you know what, that counts.

Sometimes when writing has been hard or impossible for me, I've done writing adjacent tasks. Maybe the motivation isn't there, right now, to get writing done. Can you daydream about something you know you'll never write in a million years? Can you spend your commute, or the time you spend watching paper feed through the scanner, or that awkward minute in the break room when your boss is getting coffee at the same time as you -- can you spend that time thinking about a Hogwarts/ABO/vampire/fake dating/rock band/Groundhog day/all-of-the-above fic that you would never write? Because daydreaming and dicking around can be very helpful for getting your brain in gear to write. And if you daydream about the story you're actually writing, or one you'd like to write, (a) you get caught up in it needing to be GOOD ENOUGH which is anathema to free wheeling fun times, and (b) you run that risk of coming up with that PERFECT bit of dialogue that you aren't able to write down and then you forget it. If you forget that really funny bit of dialogue for the Declan/Henry soulmate alien abduction shapeshifter fic you were never going to write, well, what does it matter?

I've done this before when I've been in a place where I'm not writing, and there's something about being able to say, "okay, I didn't write anything, but I came up with five different fun little stories that I can go back to, in my brain, any time I feel like it." And I've discovered things about the characters that I do then want to use in a "real" story . Maybe you will stumble across an interesting dynamic or interaction in that OT6 West Wing crossover you were never going to write, but it's worth revisiting in something you do want to write. When you're able to.

The ways of motivation are mysterious. I don't really know why it's easier to find the motivation now than it's been at other points in my life, in other fandoms. I think part of it is momentum, from accepting "okay I'll just try to do a little bit of writing" and then the little bit happens and keeps happening and becomes a big bit. There's been so many times now where my bus pulls up to my stop and I go "ugh I have to put the laptop AWAY and GO HOME why" and I just try to race home so I can sit down on the first chair I find and keep writing.

Are there some places, or times, or situations, or writing mediums, where the motivation comes a little easier? If you don't know of any can you pay attention for those? Is there any way to capitalize on that? If super boring meeting where I don't have to do anything but I'm not allowed to skip is a great time for day dreaming about your writing, is there anyway to take your lunch/a coffee break/a really long bathroom break where you hunt & peck type into your email drafts right after that?

I tried tracking my writing once, on the suggestion of a very convincing essay by an author who promised that only good things could come from meticulously noting where the writing happened and when and how many words. The result was that my word count dropped to zero. Very easy to track! Not so great for literally any other goal I had. But I've learned a lot about my process since then, not from spreadsheets and journals but just from...paying attention, and asking myself questions, and thinking back on all the thinking about writing I do, and it's become easier to make words happen. Not a guarantee, but -- easier. So I think the most helpful thing is just to give yourself opportunities, even little ones, to write or create, and then just...pay attention. To your process and your words and your motivation and your situation, and try to work within those and not against those.

[mildred-hubble-bubble]

Payback time. "P-Pippa? What are you doing?" "Shh, relax it will feel good I promise." "I-I've never ... done. Nobody ha-" "Hiccup, are you telling me no one has ever gone down on you before?"

Inspired by this meme.  Send me a first line here!

thrown headlong into smut. Why it’s my very favourite time!

{Normally I edit and read-aloud through everything I write before posting, but this is completely unedited. Hopefully @hecate-hardbroom will help me there. (; }

‘P-Pippa? What are you doing?’

Well, she had been journeying down Hecate’s endless thigh with a trail of kisses, but now Pippa paused for a moment to sit on her haunches. ‘Shh dearest, relax, it will feel good–I promise.’

She nipped at the perfectly pale skin just inside and above Hecate’s knee and saw gooseflesh run rampant all across her flesh.

‘I-I’ve never…done… Nobody ha–’

Pippa cut her off right there. ‘Hiccup, are you telling me no one has ever gone down on you before?’

It pained her to see the shame in Hecate’s eyes, as if both her inexperience and her interest indicated some failure or perversion. Pippa bit her lip, thinking.

‘It’s not–it’s not proper, is it–hygienic, I mean? Who would want to, there, on–on me?’ Hecate continued.

That was well enough of that, Pippa decided. She crawled up the length of Hecate’s body and brushed the leather off her shoulders. It had made a pretty picture, Hecate unbound from her leather dressing-gown, the material like a billowing trench-coat beneath her, but it was time to come off now. Who beyond Pippa might have guessed she sometimes wore nothing beneath?

Pippa gazed down at Hecate from above her head, taking in the full bright length of her against the black material: the way it and her dark makeup, dark brows, dark eyes, dark hair and dark southern curls brought out the milky-white light of her, the dark Hecate Hardbroom glow. So fresh, so mark-able. So surprisingly innocent–and Pippa keen to corrupt. But kindly, ever with care.

She pulled Hecate’s arms from the second skin of her gown, slipped the material out from under her for a moment and slipped into it herself.

‘What do you think? Am I leather enough for you?’ Pippa did a twirl in the leather dressing-gown. She’d intended it in jest, but as the material slid around her and back into place, it touched on her every curve, fell against her nipples and the soft skin of her bottom, even brushed against the curls between her legs. It drew a delicate gasp from her.

Hecate, who had been laughing at the show, was suddenly quiet. The heat in her eyes spoke wonders.

Pippa smiled–it was working.

‘You look ridiculous,’ Hecate said to recover herself, but they both knew she was lying.

Pippa wrapped the material around herself like a bat and slowly withdrew it. The sleeves were slipping down from her shoulders as she asked quite innocently, ‘Do I really?’

The dressing-gown fell to her forearms; she wrapped her arms and the material around her hips, pressing her breasts forward. Hecate swallowed.

‘I thought not.’ Pippa grinned and watched Hecate shift uncomfortably, suddenly nude in a way she hadn’t been before and stretched over a bed of soft black cushions. As Pippa watched, the gown fell to the floor in a heap–only to be plucked up by her nimble toes before the other woman could complain. Only once the material was righted, with an excellent view of the pink between her legs, did Pippa murmur, ‘Now, where were we?’

Hecate’s eyes were bright with nervous excitement as Pippa drew closer and crawled up the bed between the witch’s legs. But Pippa only left one chaste kiss to each pointed hip-bone before she was up by Hecate’s mouth again, kissing her with the force of every damnable second spent distanced from her friend’s perfect red mouth. Pippa mixed it with the pink of her own and took care to lick along their bottom lips, slow and intentional, their gaze never breaking.

‘I know how you like my mouth here,’ Pippa whispered against Hecate’s mouth. ‘When I suck at your lips or grip you with my teeth or dance with your tongue.’

Each time Pippa mentioned something, she was sure to remind the woman with the kiss itself: the pulling of Hecate’s bottom lip between her own, the swipe of a tongue, the gentle scraping of teeth upon release–and there was the point of Hecate’s tongue to greet her, nothing invasive, merely a tapping and touching. It drove Pippa wild.

‘Well all you must do is imagine it there, where you have that pretty pink pearl to set you aflame–and don’t you know how I love pink?’ Pippa pressed her body to Hecate’s, their hips at equal level and Pippa flush against her, arching back to whisper in Hecate’s ear. ‘You know what else I love? The idea of doing that–specifically on you. Do you think I can make your toes crawl?’

Pippa switched ears, nudging it gently with her nose and smiling lips. She gently kissed one delicate ridge and spoke again, her breath controlled but hot against Hecate’s sensitive ear. ‘I want your fingers curling in my hair while I have my mouth on you. I’d like to see you finish on my face, see if you can look at me or if I’ll force your head back in ecstasy. What do you think?’

She moved back, angling herself to perch between Hecate’s legs but still at eye level. She cupped a hand over the witch’s cunt and massaged the area as she asked, ‘Would you like that?’

Hecate stared at her for what seemed like a short eternity, a gaze filled with undeniable heat mingled with the hesitation of projected rejection. The fear Hecate wanted none to see and hated the way Pippa could sense immediately, but never managed to hate Pippa herself, despite years of half-hearted attempts.

Then came the nearly imperceptible nod, a mere dropping and raising of the chin, an act that might seem incidental or accidental in any other but not Hecate Hardbroom, whose every move was practised and calculated. Hecate Hardbroom who feared this lowering mouth may take that very thing from her: control.

But Pippa’s mouth was so pretty, pink-stained as it was, pressing butterfly kisses down Hecate’s thigh. Her lips left no trail; her lipstick was too good for that. She walked her fingers down Hecate’s other thigh until they met the apex. There she sent them questing for the tight band of nerves atop the crease, hidden under a beautiful pink hood: there, the length of Hecate’s perceived weakness, Pippa’s known strength. She stroked with a thumb as she set to kissing Hecate’s hipbone again–rather less chastely than before.

‘Don’t stop,’ Hecate breathed, her fingers falling over Pippa’s without pressure. ‘You can–’ Hecate held up two fingers together, nearly blushing. ‘–if you want.’

‘Oh, I want anything you want,’ Pippa replied without hesitation. She perched again between her lover’s legs and set to pulling gently at the lovely little hood and the tight nerves beneath: up and down, up and down, up and down. She noticed Hecate’s legs twitch twice in its rhythm, a moan leaving her lips in-between.

Pippa slipped one finger inside and then, finding well enough room, slipped in another. She pressed Hecate down with them for a moment, pushing in deep and strong, until Hecate was angling her hips for more. With a smile, Pippa twisted her wrist and angled her fingers up, beckoning another sound of pleasure from Hecate as her hands worked in tandem.

‘You’re beautiful stretched out like that,’ Pippa said softly, kissing Hecate’s knees again.

‘You’re–beautiful when–’ Pippa’s fingers worked faster as her smirk rose and Hecate gave up with an, ‘–ahhh!’

When Hecate was riding her hands outright Pippa slowed, causing another long groan from the woman, this one of a very different sort. She looked confused when at last she was able to find Pippa’s eyes.

How flushed she looked already, how ensconced in the one moment, how utterly wiling to take the plunge…

Pippa dropped herself properly between Hecate’s legs, for the moment removing her fingers but only to replace it with the whole heat of her mouth. She angled Hecate’s legs up over her shoulders, cradling herself between soft skin and hard wiry muscle.

‘Oh my go–oh, holy hell, that feels–hnnn–you’re amazing.’

Pippa didn’t bother to say that of course she knew, it was so eminently obvious. Instead she let Hecate move against her mouth and cast the rhythm, following it as she swiped between Hecate’s lower lips with her tongue.

‘Never stop,’ Hecate gasped, her fingers leaving Pippa’s arm and coming to rest instead in her increasingly-unbound hair. And then, her eyes boring into Pippa’s, Hecate added, ‘Please. Your eyes, oh Pippa, they’re–mmm, yes, perfect.’

Pippa made a low sound of pleasure against Hecate’s flesh and the witch’s head flung back against the cushions. Pippa smiled against her and brought her mouth higher, to where her thumb had been moments before, and there she sucked lightly.

To have her mouth here after so many years imagining it, to know hers were the first lips to kiss Hecate where it mattered most–where it left her most vulnerable, where it arched her back and moved her hips like this… Well, Pippa was lost to her own arousal in response. She was tempted to steal a hand down to her own aching parts but for now she wanted them both for Hecate.

With one hand Pippa used her fingers to spread Hecate beneath her tongue; with the other she inserted the fingers again. Hecate moaned and sought them out with her hips. Goodness, could she circle her hips like nothing else–a regular hula girl, this one.

Pippa pictured her in a gothic-black hula outfit and laughed against her clit. Hecate moaned again until her brain caught up and she had the usual sense–of insecurity–to look up with that hidden inquisitive look, the wounded wonder if she’d done something wrong, something worth the laughing at. Pippa purred against her and tilted her head to pull at Hecate’s folds in quick swipes.

That seemed to distract Hecate plenty. Somehow both her hands found themselves in Pippa’s highlighted streaks of golden hair; what had remained in the up-do had since escaped to the constrained freedom of Hecate’s clutching fingers.

‘Not for all the stars in the heavens–’ She gasped, unintentionally guiding Pippa with her hands as much as her hips. ‘This is going to–mmm oh there, please–this is going to–to kill me.’

‘Not too terribly,’ Pippa argued with a smirk, followed by a hard lick up with the broad of her tongue. ‘Was just thinking how well you move your cunt on my face.’

Hecate’s eyes shot open at the sound of such a crass word on Pippa’s tongue, which set–through her smile–to flicking across the withc’s clit at an astonishing rate. Hecate’s shock was quickly overwhelmed by the jolts of her pleasure.

‘I can talk dirty like the rest of them–better, even,’ Pippa added with a devilish smile. She could feel Hecate’s muscles tightening around her fingers. ‘So you think or say whatever dirty words you want.’

Pippa let one finger slip down between Hecate’s cheeks to touch on taboo lower fare, worked the fingers, thumbed across her hood and, when she saw Hecate’s hand fly up to grip a pillow with white fingers, took a deep breath. Then dove in to suck in rhythm with Hecate’s hips.

The fingers were painful in Pippa’s hair but she loved it, lived for it, when it meant she felt Hecate’s gripping her like this in every conceivable way.

‘Oh fuck–Pippa–I’m going to crushh-hh-hh you, fu–ahhhh.’

Pippa was chuckling as Hecate’s thighs closed in around her–trapping her, yes, in the one place she most loved to be.

And where her companion seemed to love having her: Hecate came over her face and hands, tension and release flooding Hecate’s body in turn.

Her skin flushed with it, a deep pink spreading over the once perfectly-alabaster canvas. Pippa was instantly enamoured of the colour; she wanted to see it whenever she could. She knew pink looked good on Hecate.

Hecate, who was still gasping and grunting and gyrating on Pippa’s pink-smeared lips (no lipstick was perfect). Every little sound was music to Pippa’s ears, or they would have been, had Pippa any access of her hearing. Instead her ears were closed within the squeezing cavern of Hecate’s thighs, making all sound seem underwater but richly clear in sights: Hecate stretched out before her, nude and pinked, ripping at a decorative cushion and looking more splendidly euphoric than anyone had any right to be.

Pippa stopped only when the hand in her hair released–and immediately missed the pressure, at least for the moment, until it started tugging her up again. Pippa stayed her course for the moment. ‘It’s a cliché, but… Circe’s name, Hecate, you’re wet. Anyone might think you’re enjoying yourself too much.’

‘Come here, then, before I enjoy myself any more.’

Pippa gently pried the thighs off her shoulders and leaned back enough to look between the two.

There, in perfect replica, the mold of her earrings embedded in Hecate’s skin. Pippa kissed the softness there and felt the ridges of her earrings beneath her lips. She licked them and gazed up at Hecate, who was staring at her in wonder and yanking her up.

Pippa knew the expression on her lover’s face–kiss-hungry, that was it. Any other time Pippa would have immediately obliged. This time she paused. ‘You taste delicious, but are you sure you want to…?’

‘I hadn’t thought of–I can’t be delicious, that’s ridiculous.’

Pippa shrugged. ‘Suit yourself, but I’d sure as hedwitch sample you again.’

Something flashed in Hecate’s eyes, something primal and unrepentant. She pulled Pippa the final length to her mouth and seared her with a kiss, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

Hecate’s cheeks were still pink. ‘That’s not…not as bad as I thought.’

‘Tastes perfectly lovely to me and I’ll thank you very much to allow me my preferences,’ Pippa piped in, rolling atop Hecate to spread a leg between her two. ‘Especially when that preference is you.’

She tugged Hecate’s leg up to bend at the knee and straddled it, her own naked parts sensitive to every touch of Hecate’s skin–and oh, the wiry muscle beneath…

‘In fact I’d go so far to say you may ask me any time, night or day, to sample you similarly. You have my permissive allowance to booty-call in times of stress, boredom, joy or your regular: peevishness.’

Hecate laughed at that and steadied Pippa on her upper thigh with two hands on her slender hips. From there Pippa did much of the work; her hips were not so unused to motion either.

And then, oh blessed be them, there were Hecate’s fingers–they were magical fingers, you understand, but in more capacity than one. Hecate needed no magic beyond her own muscles for this, although Pippa–sometimes wondered if her lover sometimes cast an extra ensnaring spell upon her that worked a charm.

Once Pippa had the fingers, she need no more thigh.

The fingers, oh the fingers were endless, fit three off the start snug as a magic triangle hitting her where it mattered; and then there was the hand that cupped her fine, fine, fine; and then there was that strong stirring thumb up where it could thrum thrum thrum

and Pippa was lost, but not quite–not quite enough.

She was still gazing down Hecate’s long dancer’s neck to her slender frame and surprising bust–so soft, so touchable, were those her pink nails on pink nipple? Oh, oops, but Hecate’s hiss goes straight to the thrumbpoint and radiates to the hand fingers ohhh Pippa shivers with it but she is not quite lost, not yet. She can keep control.

That lovely waist so often bound in layers of fabric and leather and corsetry, soft as sunrise there with her spotless skin. To cup it is to know the form of waves–and she moves like one, Hecate does, down in the hips. And oh, her sex was on Pippa’s leg hot as heaven soft as silk, Hecate’s warm inviting breath on her face and it feels so good, so close, so close… but she is not quite lost, she’s still here on earth with Hecate taking in the slope of her hip.

The shape of it makes her want to cry. It reminds her of the mountain Hecate wants to be, but that here amongst the cushions Hecate is hilly and inviting, a hand waving over it and coming back to grip the bottom behind where all the waves come from. The waves of Hecate’s hips so close to hers with only Hecate’s own hand between them, with the thumb and long hand and curling fingers and the tide is coming in, but Pippa is not quite completely lost, she’s still here in the waters of Hecate’s wet sex.

But then there is Hecate’s forehead on hers, eyes boring into hers, demanding kisses from lips that still tasted of her and this is where the losing starts.

Because Hecate always looks before she kisses and Pippa always looks before she kisses and eyes are dangerous places; the soul lives there. Intoxicating, those moments before kisses, between kisses, during kisses…

And the thought of it, just the thought of Hecate’s dark earthen gaze, draws a quiet sound from Pippa.

‘What was that, Pippa? Did I hear a…no, I mustn’t have heard a squeak?’ 

‘Sod your squeak,’ Pippa gasped out.

‘Oh, I think I am.’ Hecate’s voice was soft, low and deadly yet sweet and thick as honey. It drove Pippa mad; it made her want to kiss that stupid sensual so-sure-of-itself mouth. Passionately.

Pippa shuddered and bit hard on her lip.

‘None of that,’ Hecate said and dove down with her head to nudge Pippa’s up–all of a sudden she was there at Hecate’s neck, so white she might see through it and soft as babyskin but not a baby’s skin, Hecate’s delicious mark-able skin…

Hecate hissed again as the teeth found her but there seemed to be a smile to it. She turned to press her cheek against Pippa’s, lips right next to her ears, and she moaned so low and synced with her hands that Pippa felt it through her cunt and right back up to her chest again, where she could still feel it emanating through Hecate’s bare breasts.

Pippa let out a soft wavering sound, restrained by the buffering of Hecate’s skin.

‘None of that either if you’re going to literally bite down noise,’ Hecate said in her ear, snapping her teeth together in a bite as she finished. ‘I won’t be made accomplice to that crime.’

And then she was nuzzling her way down Pippa’s cheek and she was getting lost in the scent of Hecate’s hair–she caught whiff of rosemary today–and the touch of her downy skin and the decreasing distance of their lips.

‘Hello, Pippa.’ There Hecate was right before her, Pippa could feel it although she couldn’t see it through her closed eyes. Lips loomed close to hers but not touching, barely touching, almost-could-be-not-touching.

Pippa whimpered; the fingers moved with more precision inside her and she had to grip Hecate’s arm like a handrail because the world was already turning, was already giving her up to float away. She only had one tether here.

She opened her eyes and there was Hecate Hardbroom, her inkwell of hair unbound and spilling over their shoulders, smelling of oils, and her face… Pippa drank in every fond line of it and clung for dear life.

Because there, right beneath the road-sign black brows, were Hecate’s eyes.

They seemed to be all colours, earthen in the centre to icy in the wings and they could hold more emotion than some people could in their bodies and sometimes that feeling was the scorn that made her passionately stunning but then sometimes, these rare some times that it seemed mostly Pippa got to see, they would fill with such inviting love that Pippa would fall into them.

And here they were, focusing through the blur from her clench-closed eyes, staring into hers with all the tender love the world thought she never had, all writ in her eyes. Pippa felt the tether tighten up from her clit; it squeezed her every muscle, tightened her nipples, made pleasure shudder out of her and wrap them in the intimate spell of urgent ecstasy in which Pippa was at last lost, lost like her control, lost like her ability to hold back–

and she squeaked. There against Hecate’s mouth not quite kissing but yes touching touching touching–

‘Hello, Pipsqueak.’ The laughter was back in Hecate’s eyes, riding high over her proud nose and her perfect red lips, and when she laughed her breath pulled in silly like a snort only it sounded a little like a–

‘Hello, Hiccup,’ Pippa squeaked against her mouth an instant before she devoured it. She was on fire from head to foot and she needed her mouth on Hecate’s, needed them connected in every way they could be.

She couldn’t help the noises, she simply couldn’t. It wasn’t possible with the way Hecate’s hand moved and the way she pinched a nipple like it was anything but a toy, but it certainly wasn’t possible when she was watching like that with her smiling eyes and the light of her face and the love of her eyes as her lips uttered against Pippa’s, ‘Would you like to fly, Pipsqueak? Shall I make you fly?’

Pippa was so lost to it she nearly forgot the words, but after a squeak-turned-moan she managed to find a few again: ‘Yes please, Hiccup.’ Pippa gasped and fell against Hecate’s neck, pressing her shoulder near Hecate’s face and yes, there were the teeth, harder even than Pippa had done because pink was not such a prissy colour and she moaned, or thought she moaned, but it only came out a long-low squeak.

She laughed in Hecate’s ear. ‘Do your worst, Hiccup.’

‘Gladly.’

The fingers of both hands moved around and inside her in such intricate designs and patterns that Pippa lost track. She lost everything. She lost herself.

Heat spread over her like wildfire, engulfing her in itchy heat like a phoenix rebirthed, burning her from her golden scalp down to the soles of her soft dainty feet and in farther to the soul she felt stirring beneath Hiccup’s fingers, the very ones that worked within her now with their mysterious magic and Hecate was kissing her again.

‘It’s here–I’m gone, I’m gone, I don’t know how long but–’

Hecate finished her words, ‘I’ll be here when you touch down.’

Pippa burst like a star, all molten heat and shining light reflected in Hecate’s bedroom eyes.

She cried out in no specific way, merely an opening of her throat and the relieving of air Hecate drew out of her, but it came as melodic as she did, modulated by the motions of Hecate’s hands and hips sung right back into her face.

And as Pippa soared there euphoria, she got a faint idea that commenced before she could confirm it: pulling away from Hecate’s hand and immediately settling again near her hip bone, where Pippa’s leg could do the same against the heat of Hecate. Pippa rode against her with ever power of her hips.

Hecate yelped against her and immediately did the same.

Ohhh how they rode together. Even on broomsticks they could ride as one, the envy of all the other broom-pairs in the school. Together like this with nothing between their legs but the other’s leg… it was synchronicity to make the heavens weep.

Hecate made little restrained sounds against her, keeping her breathing steady and Pippa was staring into her eyes as everything in her turned to the pleasure of Pippa’s leg, and she could feel the heat down there where they danced their legs together and the heat in Hecate’s gaze

so Pippa was still coming. She wrapped her arms around Hecate’s slim but strong shoulders and held on for dear life, her mouth hovering near Hecate’s.

‘Hicc-up.’ Pippa didn’t intend to squeak the last syllable. She dropped her voice to try again but Hecate purposefully ground against her to draw the name out of her in spurts. ‘Hiccu–uh–uh–uh–uhp, please don’t, oh oh oh please don’t ever stop.’

‘Gladly obliged,’ Hecate replied, but the ‘d’ was lost to a long throaty sound as Pippa burst before her eyes, grinding against her in a heated frenzy as she let out something like a long pent-up roar, grasping and scratching at Hecate like a cat.

Pippa was utterly lost to the heat of herself and the burn of it beneath her skin; the hungry fire that filled her every muscle and glowed red on her skin. She gasped against Hecate’s mouth but the moan still escaped and Pippa wasn’t sure whose it was, for Hecate was burning up in her arms and clutching at her back all the same.

They rocked themselves through the frenzy and the heat of it until their motions grew soft and rhythmic, until they were aware again of their place in the bed and in the mortal coil.

Their kisses were lazy now. Slow-motion with no intent or destination, only the silent speaking of their lips in grazes and pressure, in slight grips and tongue-tips. At least until Hecate pulled away to gaze down Pippa’s barely-cooling body.

‘Next time, I’m doing that to you.’

It jolted Pippa enough that she squealed against Hiccup and settled more comfortably in her arms.

‘Gladly obliged,’ Pipsqueak mimicked, kissing Hiccup’s neck. ‘If you wear the new set I bought you.’

‘You want me in clothes?’

Nails in lazy circles over Hecate’s back and down her rib-cage to her waist, the touch to her sensitive skin shutting her eyes up fast. ‘Lingerie hardly counts as clothes–and I can always tear them off with my teeth.’

‘The point is,’ and here Hecate yawned, ‘I’m doing the bit with the teeth.’ She paused; a hand fell onto Pippa’s sex-raked hair. ‘That is, I don’t mean to say you–’

‘I do, as it turns out, but it also turns out, Hiccup, we can both wear lingerie. Who’s to say you’re the only one with a new set?’

Then, blast it, a yawn. Hecate’s warmth, Pippa’s exhaustion. She fell asleep to the sound of Hecate’s lips drawing up in a smile and pressing against her hair, where they remained.

‘Goodnight, Pipsqueak.’

Even in her sleep, Pippa cooed.

[survivor-algonquin-blog]

IMMUNITY RESULTS #1

Hope everyone got their groove on!!! Let's get to the results,,,

But first let's meet our lovely JUDGES!!!!

Zach!!

Hey! Zach here. A couple of main seasons under my belt and lucky enough to have played with all of the hosts. I've done this challenge and work in entertainment, so I'll be bringing a critical eye to the table and have no reservations about not holding back. Good luck!

Sarah!!

Hi my name is Sarah. Ive played 7 main ts seasons so I am officially qualified to judge now. I cant wait to see what yall did.

Vilma!!

Hi I'm Vilma and all you need to know about me is that I have a burning love for music videos so I hope y'all put in your best effort tonight <3

Now let's get to some music videos!

Castor's Music Video & Explanation

This is the official submission for the Castor Tribe. We choose to do the music video “Bring me to Life” by Evanescence. This song has a strong theme of Duality throughout the lyrics, and we chose to represent that by only using two tribemates for the lip-syncing portion of this challenge. The video focuses on Bobby, crying out for help, but being shut down by his inner thoughts, portrayed by Bryan. At the beginning of the video, you can clearly see the inner turmoil going on, shown through the colour colour changes and spinning screen. Throughout this portion, it is clear he is listening to Bryan, and letting it hold him back, keeping all these negative emotions inside. About half way through the video, there is a clear tone change, with the scarf starting to come off, signifying an opening up, of Bobby starting to let his thoughts out in a healthy way, and his inner voice becoming quieter and less relevant as time goes on. The video ends on a dark room, lit by a single light, showing that as dark as things may seem, there will always be light at the end of the tunnel, you just must keep moving forward. We felt that this was a good representation for survivor for several reasons. Firstly, in order to progress far in the game, you must be able to rely on other people to keep you sane. One of the Key elements of survivor is the ability to outlast the other players, and that requires you to mentally outlast them as well. You can clearly see that on the Edge of Extinction season, where it is only the mental fortitude of these voted off contestants giving them a chance now. Secondly, there have been several survivor Contestants that have struggled with the ideas of self-doubt, and depression both during and after the show, most notably, Sugar, after Survivor Heroes Vs Villains, as well as Spencer Bledsoe, after Game Changers. Finally, no matter how dark you may think your prospects in survivor are, if you believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and keep pushing through, you will always be able to make an impact. We chose to make the video focus on only two of our tribemates because most submissions for these types of challenges tend to include almost all the tribe members, and we wanted to create something that stands out. All of us contributed to the final product in several different ways. Firstly, we had Lilly, who was the Creative Director, and Task Manager. She came up with the narrative and focused on creating a realistic schedule in order to get everything done on time, and to a good quality. Bobby and Bryan, you saw in the music video, as our lead lip-syncers. Aaliyah was the editor of this video, putting to use her skill in a way much better than anyone else on our tribe could have accomplished. Finally, Michael and Jack created the write up, in order to communicate our thoughts to the judges, to show the amount of effort we put into this project.

Zach:

Creativity:6

The explanation for idea of the music video was strong and well intentioned, if not wholly originally, but I’m not sure it is entirely reflected in what got with the video. I appreciate the deliberate choice to use only two members of the cast to support that idea, so I can’t ding for points there, but I don’t think what we got was what we were promised in the explanation.

Effort: 7

Going off of the intro text, I’ll take it in good faith that everyone contributed as much as was mentioned, and despite execution, I cannot fault their efforts if they all tried.

Composition: 5

Any time there’s a vertical video, it’s going to hurt a little, but I won’t dwell on that too much. I will say that the video ending before the song ends does not help its case. Also, the idea behind the colors and the black and white to show emotional change was a good thought, but did not have the payoff that it should have had. The rationale behind it feels more film school interpretation of something after the fact than intended execution.

Theme: 7

The theme as explained was a solid one, and definitely can see tones of it in the performances and set dress of the actors. Nice job. Bryan will haunt my dreams.

All-in-all, I think this was a good effort and it’s obvious that this team works together well and has lofty ideas. I think the technical skill might be lacking, and it seems like everyone here is very structured in their thinking. I prefer that way of thought so I’m with them, but they needed a little more creative flair here to pull it off.

Sarah:Creativity: 5/10

Effort: 5/10

Composition (editing): 7/10

Theme: 8/10

I wish I saw everyone from the tribe in this but I get your reasoning behind it. It was still just overall ok

Vilma:

Creativity: 4/10

You made a creative decision to include only two people of your tribe in the lip sync and while I appreciate the ballsy move I can’t help but feel I would’ve enjoyed the video more if more people were included in it.

Effort: 5/10

Bobby was the king of the show and really put his soul into it.

Composition: 4/10

Rule number one in music videos: film horizontally! Overall I wasn’t a huge fan of the constant use of cheap looking effects but otherwise the editing was fine.

Theme: 6/10

I think the duality theme in your video was nice an well thought-out but it would be a bit hard to understand without your thorough explanation of it.

Castor Total: 69/120

Elan's Music Video & Explanation

undefined

She walks! She talks! She twerks! She's BARBIE! Jump, dance, and sing with your very own customizable doll! Dress her up and take her out. Barbie is your BEST FRIEND! You can be a Barbie Girl too! SHE'S BARBIE! (batteries not included)

Zach:

Creativity: 7

The idea of using Barbie girl for the song was a strong and out of the blue choice, making it look like a commercial really took it over the top. I can’t go higher than 8 because they used a lot of the original music video to cover gaps, but overall, more creative an idea than I’ve seen in a while, and the execution was beautiful which leads me to:

Effort: 8

To put what they put together as quickly as they did takes a lot of coordination from whomever was putting it together, but the fact that most people went so far as to dress as “Barbies” shows that almost everyone was committed to the gag. There were a couple of people who obviously didn’t have as much time to give to this, but substituting them as the Ken was a nice save.

Composition: 9

Obviously when working with iPhones and computer cameras, the visual leaves something to be lacking, but that is more than made up for here with the various superpositions, graphics, texts, crawls, and cuts. It felt like I was watching a bizarro QVC commercial that was as fun to watch as Barbies are to play with, keeping them right on mark for their:

Theme: 9

The fact that this is basically a weird commercial for Barbies is as fantastic as they are plastic. Every inch of it was filled with something to reinforce the theme, whether it was ordering details, people playing with the toys, warnings, calls to actions, or disclaimers (the bottom Mattel crawl was a brilliant example of all three categories of judgement coalescing to reinforce the them.

I wasn’t planning on rating anyone high, but this was weird, original, well done, and fun. Nice job. It was visual candy, high energy, and all surface, which I wouldn’t typically go for, but that’s what Barbie is about.

Sarah:Creativity: 9/10

Effort: 10/10

Composition (editing): 10/10

Theme: 8/10

You guys impressed the fuck out of me and made me literally LOL.

Vilma:

Creativity: 8/10

Cute outfits, cute barbie nicknames, cute editing, cute CuTe CUTE I want these slutty barbies to myself

Effort: 9/10

The barbie QUEENS and the editor guy did a phenomenal job. It looks like most of your tribe participated, although the Barbies outshined the Ken’s a bit. But overall you guys really put yourself out there and put in the most effort.

Composition: 10/10

The editing was ON POINT. Great job ten out of ten.

Theme: 8/10.

I stan the barbie theme and song choice btw Aqua is a Danish band so I love me some nordic representation <3 My only complaint is I wish you introduced us to the handsome Kens too.

Elan Total: 105/120

Hibou's Music Video & Explanation

undefined

We lip synced Survivor by Destiny's Child. Due to time constraints Gavin couldn't be in the video, but it doesn't matter since Sammy stole the show. :) The editing got a little weird at the end. Some of the file types were different and that causes playback issues. Also the deadline was fast approaching so the sequences towards the end are a little longer. :p

Zach:

Creativity: 2

Hate to be harsh, but going for Survivor for Survivor is a little too on the nose. Listen, it’s a great song, and some people have some great energy, but creatively, this was low hanging fruit. On top of that, the video is literally just lip-syncing, which is basically like playing a Borneo Game in 2019. Given that they’d be given plenty of examples of other ways this can be done well, I can’t rate this high. To paraphrase the song “you’re better than that.”

Effort: 4

To the people that contributed to this, I appreciate your attempt. The one guy who really embraced the challenge, got a mic, light-up glasses, the hat, et al, if this was based on just your effort, I could go much higher. It’s as high as it is because of you. Unfortunately, it’s a team challenge, and for the brief moments that we saw most of the other players, you can see them reading the words on the screen as they capture their performance. I hope everyone enjoyed it more than it shows, but again, to the point of the song “you’ve gotta work harder.”

Composition: 2

Vertical videos really just need to be turned 90 degrees and it would feel like we’re watching a movie. Or if you’re given vertical videos, copy the layer, move it to the back, enlarge, and blur. It will make it instantly more watchable. This grade isn’t solely because of that though (3 vertical videos don’t help though). The titles screen is cute, but assembled poorly. Some of the text is covered some of the pictures. There’s no real pace to guide us through the song. The cuts seem arbitrary. Editing is very hard and never appreciated, so to whomever put this together, if you did your best, nice job and I encourage to stick with it, but kinda feels like “I’m not gonna give up” was something you were saying to yourself over and over again when trying to make this work.

Theme: 2

Picking this song was a bold choice since it’s so obvious, but you can’t lose points in this category based on choice alone. But given that choice, you have to really knock it out of the park, and I don’t think the bat even touched the ball with this one. There’s nothing here that screams either Survivor nor what Destiny Child was singing about, I don’t know if we’d be weaker without this song in our life.

Look, I hate to be critical, especially since it’s obvious some people put it in a lot more work with this than others, but to be honest, this wasn’t a shining example of what you’re all capable of. It’s hard putting these together, and maybe it just wasn’t worth it this time. Making music videos can be fun or terrible depending on with whom you work. I wish you the best, but I feel like because of this, for one of you “I’m gonna make it, here on Survivor” just isn’t true.

Sarah: Creativity: 4/10

Effort: 3/10

Composition (editing): 6/10

Theme: 4/10

You tried.

Vilma:

Creativity: 4/10

I feel like you guys could’ve been more creative with your Survivor theme. I like that you introduced everyone in the beginning but other than that the video was very simple.

Effort: 6/10

Most of your tribe seemed to participate and that’s always nice to see. Some of you guys were really feeling it too so big props to that!

Composition: 3/10

Again, gotta deduct some points for not filming horizontally. Plus the lip syncing was VERY off most of the time, such a simple thing to fix and the video would’ve seemed much more professional!

Theme: 5/10

Your song choice is literally perfect, you GUYS are survivors and you know it but I wish you would’ve included little skits or something to emphasize the theme.

Hibou Total: 45/120

Congratulations to Castor and Elan for winning immunity!! which unfortunately means Hibou you will be heading to tribal council, where you will be voting off the first person in Tumblr Survivor Algonquin. Tribal will be live over Google Hangouts, and we plan to start at 9:00 EST. please let the hosts know beforehand if you will be able to attend tribal council or not.

[antialiart]

I've been following this since you started doing the draw every day thing, and your art has definitely improved a lot. I'm thinking about doing this too -- do you have any suggestions (esp. for things like keeping motivation) as someone who has been drawing every day for over a year? Thank you!

Thanks! I’m thrilled to hear you want to try daily drawing - I really love doing it and I’m so glad I went ahead and did it.

I’ve honestly never really had trouble staying motivated, which surprised me; I wasn’t at all sure I wouldn’t flake on this when I started, but it turned out really easy for me to keep up. I think the biggest factors that have contributed to how well I’ve kept it up are the following:

- I post all my drawings to an artblog and have made my intention to draw something every day very explicit. Whether I actually do a drawing on a given day is a matter of public record. I don’t know if any of my followers would really notice if I failed to do a drawing, but it still discourages me from thinking stuff like “I’ll just draw two things tomorrow instead” which could lead down a slippery slope of never actually doing all the drawing.

- I’m willing to be lenient with myself with regards to what I’ll consider an acceptable drawing. This is really important, I think. It’s just “draw something”. If I’m tired and sick and don’t want to draw at all, I’m allowed to draw a two-minute half-assed sketch of a Voltorb and post that. If that weren’t allowed, I’d be forced to skip days every now and then when I’m just not physically capable of putting effort into a drawing, and once I’m allowed to skip days, it becomes too easy to slowly expand the definition of what qualifies as a day I’m allowed to skip. None of that; I will do some kind of drawing every single day, but it doesn’t have to be good or refined in the slightest if I can’t do that. No pressure; it should feel like a game, not a chore, and definitely not like some sort of looming, intimidating duty.

- Of course, as a corollary, I need to want to make good drawings; otherwise I’d just end up doing something half-assed every day, which wouldn’t be terribly helpful. Posting to the artblog serves an important role here, too: you can all see exactly what I’m drawing, and if it’s halfhearted crap, I don’t like posting it. It’s extremely important that I do so anyway, but I would much, much rather draw something I’m actually happy to show off. So if I’m not extremely tired or sick or otherwise unable to put effort into my daily, I will make at least something of an effort.

- Other important way to get yourself to make an effort: draw something you care about. Draw presents for your friends; draw your own characters or your pets or people you love; draw scenes from movies or shows or games that are emotionally important to you. I say this with the reservation that you shouldn’t try to bite off more than you can chew - if you don’t feel like you’re any good at realistic faces yet, trying to draw a realistic face that you actually care about may just end up feeling frustrating, because you don’t have the skill to get them close enough to be satisfied, and because of the emotional importance to you, it might make you just really hate the idea of posting your failure. That’s not very productive. Start by drawing easy-to-draw things that you care about and then ramp up the difficulty when you get good enough to not utterly hate yourself when you try. (But still be willing to screw it up a bit. Don’t wait forever to be good enough; you should be eager to get to try to draw things you care about! Be bold and try the moment you think you might even conceivably be able to draw something kind of close. It’s not going to be perfect, but it actually just might be better than anything similar you’ve done before.)

- Ask for challenges from others. I haven’t been doing a lot of suggestions recently, but I really need to finish the last few and make a new suggestion post, because doing suggestions has definitely been one of the things I’ve found most consistently helpful. Ask for something that challenges you at your current skill level, things you’ve noticed you have trouble with. I happen to have a decent audience on my artblog but you can also just ask friends. Not only do you get to draw something challenging, you also get an automatic motivation boost from the fact that you’re doing it for somebody and you don’t want to disappoint them. Plus, people often come up with wild, hilarious suggestions and the results are great and incredibly fun to do regardless of the quality of the drawing.

- Do a lot of different things! Often people do scheduled daily projects, like one Pokémon a day or something, and if that works out well for you, great, but if you get bored with that sort of routine, don’t try to force yourself to draw something you’re not really feeling. Switch it up, do something different from what you’ve been doing and practice different things if that’s what it takes to keep yourself interested.

- Think of how awesome it will be when you can draw that thing you’ve always wanted to draw. Think of how every artist got good by drawing a lot. Think of how by keeping this up you are in the process of making yourself awesome. You’re not just doing a dinky little drawing, you’re one drawing closer to godhood.

That’s about all I can think of right now. I hope that helps, and I hope daily drawing works out great for you!

[thisisevenharderthannamingablog]

(1) Hello! I've seen many of your posts and meta and love your analysis of the story/characters, and with everything happening (or not happening) on the show lately, I was wondering if there is a point throughout the entirety of the series that you think they started to go off the rails? For me, S4 felt like a hot mess but finished with a fun finale and a great cliff-hanger leading into a fantastic S5A Camelot arc which could have easily been a full season. Since then, I feel like things have be

en on this downhill spiral with the writers not really knowing what to do with these characters anymore, rehashing the same storylines/drama/angst. They created such rich, dynamic characters throughout those first three seasons, and now they seem to have forgotten how to write for them, or perhaps it’s boredom. S3 seemed like it would have been a fantastic series finale, everything was, for the most part, wrapped up tidily with happy endings all around, and I often wonder if perhaps that was

the intent, not anticipating needing to write more and that’s why things have felt so off/forced ever since? Obviously not looking for answers on behalf of the writers, but curious as to your take on the progression of the stories as a whole. Seemed like things were done very deliberately early on, but not so much anymore. Perhaps it’s just me though and I missing something that a rewatch of the season/series as a whole will reveal, like the writers did indeed know exactly what they were doi

ng and where they were headed the whole time. Thank you again for sharing all your metas and posts, and for any insight you can provide with my very long and rambly question! :)

Wow! First of all, thank you. I have very much enjoyed writing about this show over the past few years. I’m delighted to hear that it’s provided some amusement to others in turn. :)

I’m not sure it’s possible to pinpoint “the” moment when things went south. I feel like there’s more than one factor at play.

First, I think they had a multi-year skeleton plot for SOME of the characters at the outset. They obviously did for Emma. I will grudgingly consider the idea that they had a plan for Regina, however little I enjoy the results. If they had one for Snowing, they threw it out when Ginny got pregnant. Rumple I’m not so sure about. I don’t think that plan was enormously detailed, though, at least in the later years; I feel like they’ve been winging it more every season.

This has led them to a bit of a stop and start pacing problem, like when 5a had everything in the universe crammed into it and 5b dawdled along without doing much, and now S6 has been largely spent treading water. They’ve run out of meat for Emma’s story. For Regina it seems like the idea they had, they did not execute very well, while Rumple’s current plot is something of a retread of his origin story.

So that’s one problem. I have sympathy for this one. They had no idea when they started it how many years they would have to tell the story. Pretty difficult to spread out your plots evenly in that case.

On a related note, most of the world-building has clearly been done just-in-time, leading to the rampant inconsistencies we all know and love. This one I do not have much sympathy for. It annoys me. These problems are largely avoidable. .

Second! Disney meddling was clearly A Thing in 4a, like holy shit what were they thinking. The episode summaries on Wikipedia are telling in their length. They are impossible to summarize, because there is too much going on, and the stories don’t mesh well at all. (I’ve got meta analyzing the problems with that arc as an entity, so I won’t go into that here.)

S4 also seems to be when the story… disconnected from itself, to some extent? I didn’t hate 4b like some people did, but I feel that it suffered a lot from that “just in time mythology” practice. So much of that arc felt off the cuff and clumsy - and none of it has ever been referred to again except in passing.

Remember back in S3, how rooted everything that happened was in the recent history of the main characters? And now we’ve got drive-by appearances by characters who are supposed to be incredibly important – Ingrid, Maleficent, Chloe, Lily, Hades – many of whom by rights should fall under the “family” umbrella that ties the show together, but have never been mentioned before, and will never be mentioned again.

This is a form of lowering the stakes, of reducing the consequences to the characters as a result of their choices. If life-shattering events happen on the regular and no one in the story even notices, the audience stops caring, too.  

Maybe 4a threw them off their stride, I don’t know, but it seems like they never quite recovered afterward. They have had great episodes and decent arcs, but they lost something. Adam and Eddy in particular have done a worse and worse job with the episodes they personally write starting with the 4a finale.

Which leads us to problem number three, in the current writer’s room. I haven’t seen Lost, so I have no idea what their writing was like in that series. I don’t know if this is a case of people who need editing not getting the constructive feedback they need, if they’re distracted by other projects, if they’re bored, if there was some change of personnel that had a major ripple effect, or what.

They wrote some fantastic early episodes. They were grim (“Heart is a Lonely Hunter”) and quirky (“Dreamy”) and they brought the story home with a bang (“A Land Without Magic”). They wrote my all-time fave “New York City Serenade,” for Pete’s sake.

And then S4 happened, since when they have written some of the hands-down worst episodes of this show. “Heroes and Villains” was an incoherent mess (which I actually took it upon myself to rewrite). “Dreamcatcher” was meh. “Swan Song” gleefully trampled over acres of relevant show mythology, relied on dubious characterization, and stated its own theme out loud five times, sign of a timid writer. “Souls of the Departed”… had some issues, and the less said about “An Untold Story” the better (for my blood pressure). And so it goes.

They seem determined to own the start and the ending of each season, but those episodes seem less and less connected to each other and to the rest of the story. The S3 finale was a thematic capstone of that season, based strongly on family, home, and new love. The S4 finale was fun, but sloppy. Since 4b was already thematically dubious, the connection to the preceding arc (you make yourself) wasn’t strong, and there was no unity at all with 4a. The S5 finale wasn’t even fun and literally had nothing to do with the stuff that preceded it. So while the S3 finale worked *because of* S1, the ones since then have felt increasingly less like part of their own story.

Ironically enough, the S3 finale that was supposed to be all about not changing anything in their AU is the only one of the three that was actually allowed to have any consequences, even if they turned out to be stupid consequences. The stakes have diminished every time.

To put it bluntly, at this point they don’t seem to know what they want to *do* with the story. They’re running out of important development points for the characters, and filling in with enough padding to open a couch factory. Cause and effect appear unreliable. They are recycling entire scenes from the same actual season – did no one notice? did someone notice and not bother speaking up? did someone get overruled? ‘Cause none of those are good things.

Character dynamics sound the same notes as they did two or three seasons ago. That’s jarring, because this is not otherwise written as an episodic, time stands still kind of show. They’ve always had a problem with writing toward an effect they want rather than figuring out the effect from the causes, but it seems to have gotten worse over the course of the show. It gets even worse when the characters appear to all have recurring amnesia regarding their own recent lives.

So… yeah. I don’t know what happened to them in S4, but it seems like that’s when they got off track, and it’s been getting worse.

Some negativity to start the day. :) Thanks for all the kind words. I am sure the S6 post-game analysis is going to be intense!