#writing an essay i will never be graded on

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

@fantasybookgeek09 this was such a fun prompt, thank you!! I've never written a modern au before so I hope it came out okay!

“Since we only have five days left until the holidays, I’m going to go easy on you guys this week. You’ll be doing some fun group work— but it still counts towards your final grade, so don’t slack off.”

Rayla slumped in her chair, not quite sure if it was out of relief or disappointment. She was thrilled not to be getting a third essay to work on over the Christmas “break”, but group projects could be… unpredictable. 

“I’ll be assigning you into pairs—" the typical wave of groans erupted from the student body— “to write and illustrate a short original story based on the themes we’ve been discussing in class. You can divide up the work however you see fit, but you have to contribute at least something to the writing and the art.”

Okay. Rayla could work with that. The short story she’d done in her freshman year had won an award, and she was certain her recent work was even better. And as for the art? Well, she could do some stylized swirls or something. Crossing her fingers under her desk, she prayed to be paired with someone better at drawing than she was. 

“…Ram, you’ll be working with Andromeda, and Rayla, you’ll be working with Callum.”

Rayla bit her tongue to keep from groaning out loud. She just had to make that wish, hadn’t she? 

Callum was a good artist, but that was about all he was good at. She’d been sitting two desks down from him all semester, and not a single class had gone by where he hadn’t been doodling instead of listening. She might as well kiss her grade goodbye. 

The bell rang, the more fortunate students around Rayla gathering into pairs to discuss their plans and get their project rubrics on the way out. But Callum just stowed his sketchbook in his bag, picked up his pens, dropped his pens, and scrambled to stow them, avoiding Rayla’s eyes all the while. She didn’t move, crossing her arms and staring him down. He wasn’t getting off that easily. 

Finally, he looked up at her. Or, slightly to the left of her. Rayla would take it.

“I want to figure out the plot of my— our story before we start working on it tomorrow. Are you free this afternoon?”

Callum nodded, a single, sharp jerk of his chin. “You could come over to my house?”

Well, that was easier than anticipated. Rayla had expected to cut through three excuses at least before he realized he couldn’t worm his way out of it. “Sounds like a plan.”

…

Another infuriating thing about Callum was that Rayla hadn’t needed to ask for his address, or even for directions to his house. Everyone knew where he lived, because it was an enormous mansion roughly the size of seven of Rayla’s houses put together, pretentiously seated on the hill over Katolis, visible from anywhere in town. And it only got more ostentatious up close. 

Pulling into the driveway— and circling around the fountain in the middle of it— Runaan let out a low whistle. “If they ask you to stay for dinner, make sure you smuggle out some of the cutlery. It could probably keep us in food for a year.”

Rayla laughed. “There isn’t enough money in the world to get me to stay for dinner. Nice try, though.”

Runaan smirked in return, clapping Rayla’s shoulder as she slid out of the car.

Rayla was fully expecting a butler to answer the door, so it came as a shock when it swung open to reveal Callum’s ten-year-old brother bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Hi, Rayla!”

“Hey, Ezran. How’ve you been?”

“Good!”

She smiled, relaxing slightly as Ezran waved her into the house with a flourish. They’d been on speaking terms ever since Rayla had pelted some kids with snowballs for teasing Ezran about talking to birds, and he was a sweet kid. A bit strange, but then, so was Rayla, in her own way. 

“Rayla! You made it!”

Rayla followed Callum’s voice to find him standing at the top of a real, actual marble staircase, framed by railings of golden filigree. Maybe she should try to make off with some cutlery.

“It was pretty hard to miss,” she said drily.

Callum flushed, but Ezran just laughed. 

Recovering, Callum managed to lead Rayla into a “living room” roughly the size of Katolis High’s gymnasium. At least it gave them plenty of room to spread out.

“All right,” Rayla said, pulling out the planning sheet they’d been given. “I already plotted out the storyline, so I just need you to tell me which sentence you want to write and what you want me to do for the illustrations.”

“Which sentence I want to write?”

Rayla glanced up at him, surprised by the offense in his tone. “Well, yeah. I want this to be good. I have a grade-point average to keep up, and—"

“And you think I’m a bad writer?”

“Writing well requires practice, Callum, and I’ve never seen you so much as take notes. You’ve always got your nose in that sketchbook. You’ve got it with you now!”

To prove her point, she snatched it up from the cushions between them. Callum yelped, reaching out for it.

“This thing must have hundreds of pages, and I’d bet you’ve done half of them in class.”

“Don’t!” 

Callum lunged for it, Rayla pulled back, and the sketchbook clattered to the floor to reveal…

Drawing after drawing of her.

Rayla froze. Callum buried his face in his hands.

“So you must think I’m pretty creepy.”

Rayla wasn’t sure what to think. She reached out and picked up the sketchbook again, and this time, Callum didn’t stop her. 

The sketches were… incredible. They looked like her— all the things she liked about herself, and all her imperfections. He’d captured the way she tugged at her braid when she was nervous, the way she tilted back in her chair when she was bored. She could tell when many of the sketches were done by her expression alone: focused eyes the day before their first exam, a wrinkled nose the day Soren had come into their classroom to dribble a basketball around the desks for no apparent reason, a drawn mouth the day her parents had been deployed. 

“Why?” Rayla asked quietly, tearing her gaze from the drawings to meet Callum’s eyes.

His face was red as fire, but his voice was steady. “I’ve always liked people-watching. You can learn so much about them by how they dress, how they sit, what their expressions are. There are whole stories there, if you look for them. Ever since you stood up for Ezran, I… I’ve wanted to know what your story is. You’re so smart, and confident in a way I don’t understand at all, and you’re… good. I wanted to know what makes you that way. But… I didn’t think you’d tell me.”

Blood was rushing to Rayla’s cheeks now, her throat clogging with an unexpected shame. All this time, Callum had been looking at her. Had really seen her, in a way no one else at school seemed to. And she’d taken a few glances at him, built him a false image, and never thought to question it. 

Rayla forced herself to look back up at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… seeing the best in me, I guess? For wanting to get to know me, even though I’ve been such a jerk. I’m sorry I said you weren’t a storyteller.”

Callum laughed. “You were right, actually. I really am a bad writer. I mean— except for poetry, I think? But no one’s ever read those, so who knows?”

“I didn’t say writer, I said storyteller.”

Callum’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. It was the first true grin Rayla had ever seen him make, and it transformed his whole face, making dimples appear in his cheeks and his green eyes gleam. Rayla’s breath hitched in her chest. 

“So… does this mean I can write more than a sentence?” he asked.

“You know what? I’d bet we can fit some poetry in here for you to write. But first, I want your opinion on the plot. You might have some ideas I didn’t think of.”

“Oh— wow. Thank you.”

Callum reached for their planning sheet, but Rayla placed her hand over his. The contact sent a jolt through her fingers, and she quickly withdrew them.

“Before that, though, I think it’s past time I asked about you.”

“About me?”

Another spike of shame shot through Rayla at the confusion in his voice, but she smiled through it, settling close enough to him on the couch for their shoulders to touch.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?”

[gnomey22]

The Scythe Cutscene: A Failtopia Analysis

At the end of Failtopia Season 2, the final boss (Hank the Demon Lord, also known as Lee) is defeated in two ways - first, a frying pan to the head from Mar, in regular gameplay, and second, a scythe torn through him by C!Failboat, in a custom cutscene.

There’s an argument to be made that C!Fail should not have been the one to get the final blow on Hank, and a good argument too. He was the protagonist of Season 1, who wasn’t especially competent and only really succeeded for plot reasons, and because he got carried. Mar was the protagonist of Season 2, going through the final stages of his redemption arc after being the final boss of Season 1 three years prior. He was defeated with a frying pan to the head then, and defeats his ultimate foe (who takes on the exact same form he did) through the exact same method… only for Hank to revitalise himself after the hit, and get killed by C!Fail’s magic scythe he never uses.

It’s easy to see how Mar got cheated out of his thematic victory, for the sake of C!Fail-centric bullshit. Hank was Mar’s ultimate enemy, given that Mar possessed him for years on end in Season 1, only for him to turn around and pull the same shit on a close ‘friend’ of Mar’s, but his motivations were presented as hatred towards Failboat (the real one) for doing a terrible job of managing the world of Miitopia. A reasonable motivation, ignoring the lack of explanation for how he found out about all that, but it feels a little cheap knowing that his motivation could’ve simply been revenge against Mar for Season 1.

That’s a good argument, but my overanalysing brain came to a different conclusion about these events. Firstly, the finale.

I think it was the perfect conclusion to C!Fail’s character arc. He was largely unhelpful for the entirety of Season 1, despite being the protagonist, because he didn’t put the effort in, and had no leadership skills. These flaws are explored and worked upon in Season 2, where he’s relinquished his leadership position to Mar, and actually puts the effort in to become an indispensable teammate.

In Season 1, the final blow on Mar was not dealt by C!Fail. It was dealt by Smuk, using a frying pan to the head, assisting C!Fail’s attack. He wasn’t competent enough to finish the job without his team, but because he’s the team leader, the burden to take credit falls on him. Mar, on the other hand, has always worked in tandem with his team to dish out hits on the enemies, especially as he cries over their falls. This is a huge step up from feeling so empty inside that he literally killed himself, he’s learning to express his personality.

Therefore, the final blows on Hank are dealt as follows: Mar avenges a fallen teammate by delivering a tearful final blow on Hank, perfectly mirroring the one he himself was given three years prior, completing his redemption arc. Then, C!Fail steps up to the plate to finish the job, using the weapon at his disposal he’s been wilfully ignoring this whole time, completing his arc of learning to be a competent fighter. Mar takes the credit afterwards, because he’s earned it, but C!Fail is the one who talks to the Great Sage and helps to heal Hank, because the single good thing he did in Season 1 was help to heal Mar. He’s still the same optimistic dumbass, but he’s become experienced, and worked in tandem with the team to win this, he wasn’t just carried.

As for Hank’s motivations, he attacked the unnamed Dark Curse for seemingly no reason, unless you consider the fact that he was possessed by a Dark Curse for all those years of suffering. He does, in fact, hold a grudge against Mar, he just has other, bigger priorities. Do with that information what you will.

My point is, there’s a lot of thematic significance to be found in C!Fail dealing the ‘final blow’ with the Scythe, and it’s much easier to find it if you don’t call it the ‘final blow’, singular. Hank wouldn’t’ve needed to revitalise himself if Mar hadn’t killed him the first time. There were two ‘final blows’, dealt by Mar and C!Fail respectively.

All we need now is for C!Fail to be left the fuck alone for Season 3, I cannot stress enough that he doesn’t need any more plot relevance.

[echodrops]

I'm just procrastinating work by thinking about the distressing decline of critical thinking and media literacy, but the take "Writing dark content allows people to heal from their own negative experiences," while true enough, also feels like it is missing a critical dimension:

Fiction needs victims because empathy is a learned skill.

Through sympathizing with the plights of fictional characters, upon whom we can safely project ourselves, we learn to identify with the suffering of others in the real world as well, even those with whom we do not share similarities.

Fiction's central function is the recognition and resolution of conflict, an absolutely vital real life skill that requires the ability to resonate with the challenges of those outside our Self.

Our stories need suffering so the real world can have less of it.

[hearts401]

thinking abt my universe's school system and deciding to draw them working on an essay

[jils-things]

this feels too soon to say because its still not well over a month that i started uni but like...

im quite happy by how things are going now- it doesn't feel all too restrained unlike my past school years. and apart from that, i feel a lot more independent being able to travel miles away from my home which has been my biggest anxiety as i got older. just the fear of getting lost spooks me a whole lot! even if i'm travelling through a planned route, going all by myself is probably the bravest thing i did this year and i say this as an introvert who doesn't go out all too often

[pepperdee]

oh my god i actually have. a pdf of my diploma. i didn't fuck it up. i actually have a degree

[earl-grey-crow]

.

[choking-on-roses]

My goal was to grade 10 papers today. I really really reeeeaaaallyyyyy didn't want to and had to fight tooth and nail through the executive dysfunction. I clawed my way through at a pace of one essay per hour. I hated it, but I did it!

It's not even the fact that I reached my goal that made me happy (it was arbitrary). It's the fact that I'm even capable of getting through difficult things I don't want to do at all. I have been working on my self-discipline and focus for years and I'm very proud of myself for how far I've come.

[sexygaywizard]

I wrote 2500 fucking words today and I'm gonna go buy myself a BORGER as a treat

[femslashspuffy]

My meteorology teacher was like "we're only gonna have 2 homeworks, 2 quizzes, and 2 tests and that will be your whole grade" and then he's surprised that we don't care to really memorize the material rn because we have no dates for any of those assignments and already dozens of things due in our other classes

[andytheoverthinker]

Can someone please tell me the world won't end if i don't get into university please i need the reassurance

[gnomey22]

Canon evidence for EriBo (Failtopia)

"EriBo is a bad ship because it will never be canon!"

Counterpoint: Daniel Failboat is obviously fine with the ship, and there is quite a lot of canon material pointing towards the possibility of it. Such as...

Erica is the only member of the party to find out that Bo is a ghost before S2E18, and she finds out through Bo's own admission.

Among the piles upon piles of compliments and exclamations Erica responds with, is "You're wonderful! How have we never talked before?" I think that first part is a lot to say to someone you only just talked to, considering this very scene shows how Erica uses the word 'wonderful', and the whole line is talking up Bo herself, rather than the mere fact that she's a ghost.

Bo's big development in S2E18 involves Daniel Failboat going into her character menu and altering her Mii itself, giving her a smile. This is something he also considered doing just after the garden scene with Erica, because it clearly meant that much for Bo. He even went into the menu before clicking off of it, so it wasn't just a passing thought.

Erica specifically says "I love it!" in response to Bo's development, which is certainly a strong word to use, especially for someone as usually cold as her.

The very first time Erica sees Bo get hurt in her new form, she immediately rushes to her side to comfort her, before immediately killing every single enemy they were faced with in one attack. Daniel Failboat's platonic explanation for this is, quite frankly, bullshit, and it's never brought up again, so I'd say there isn't one.

Erica and Bo have one of the more insane in-game-relationship-level-to-canon-relationship-level ratio in the entire series, only making it to Level 6 within the game, but canonically, they're most likely on a similar level as Erica and Chi. In case you couldn't tell, that means a noticeably higher number.

My reasoning for that previous statement relates to the party organisation for the final fight against Lee. That being, everyone being sorted onto the same team as someone they're strongly connected to. Shrimp fights alongside her found family, Lee has to fight against all of his worst nightmares, and Erica fights alongside the people she actually likes, that being Chi and Bo. All of these reasons technically go both ways, such as Shrimp being Orion and Bill's found family, and Lee being half the party's worst nightmare. Meaning that Erica was Bo's ideal teammate for the final fight.

I cannot stress enough how many times Daniel Failboat has interacted with EriBo fanart. He's obviously seen a lot of it, he's liked a lot of it, and he's featured a lot of it on his stream countdowns. If he had an issue with the ship, most of what I just said would probably not be the case, or he would've said something about it.

This isn't to say that ships have to have canon evidence to be good, because that obviously isn't true, I just think that using a cringe argument against a ship it literally doesn't work against is stupid, such as saying "EriBo sucks, it can't be canon!" when not only does that not affect the quality of the ship, but they clearly haven't paid enough attention to canon.

[girlitfeelsgood]

I'm so nervous about writing an essay for the first time in two years. What if I do horribly 💀

[violentdevotion]

Hi. Op of the college post. I wanted to extend my apology for your friend's death (i actually made the post in memory of a friend who also died) and to ask what major you were in? An essay on hauntology sounds intriguing, id be curious to know more. Well, sorry if this is random and sudden, your tags just jumped out to me in the notifications as the most interesting thing someone left on that post. I hope you have a lovely day!

thank you for your thoughts. i want to extend the same to you, i feel losing a friend so young at such an already tumultuous time in your life is one of the most difficult things to go through, but we did it 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

i studied english literature at uni. the class i wrote the essay on was contemporary world literature and the prompt was 'discuss the importance of grief or loss in contemp world lit and I chose the books Autumn by Ali Smith and Alfred and Emily by Doris Lessing (which if you haven't read already id really recommend). i think the conclusion sums up what my thesis was better than i can now 2 years after writing it

In conclusion, grief and loss within these texts are tied to nostalgia, of either objects, memory, or people. However, this grief disrupts the memory and the linear narrative, and as such time bleeds into eachother. Events from the past cannot be remembered without knowing what is to come, whereas idealisations of the future must be rooted in something from history, the consequence of which is that ‘the futuristic now connoted a settled set of concepts, affects, and associations.’ (Fisher, 2012, p.16). Difficulties arise however when these concepts and associations are established in a history of violence and loss. This exchange expresses the continuous feeling of grief, as characters are repeatedly acknowledging and ‘burying’ what ‘haunts’ them while unable to live in a future without what they have already buried. Evidently, like a leaf ‘so stuck that when it eventually peels away, it's leafshape left behind, shadow of the leaf, will last on the pavement till next spring.’ (Smith p. 259) Contemporary World Literature must constantly acknowledge the past and present while looking to the future, forcing all three to exist concurrently.

dont worry about it being random, i made the joke that the post was made in a lab for me when its actually two people coincidentally relating over similar life experiences. i hope you have a lovely day also :))))

[autism-swagger]

Getting ready for the next stage of my life has made me realize that me being really depressed on and off for years is really fucking up my college opportunities. Crazy how that works haha (<- in immense agony)