#gotta post writing updates on here to hold myself accountable

[meownotgood]

do yk when under the influence chpt 2 will be out 🥺🥺🥺🥺🫶

EVENTUALLY I SWEAR I CAN'T SAY WHEN BUT EVENTUALLY... BEFORE THE WORLD GETS SUCKED INTO A BLACK HOLE AND EXPLODES..... EVENTUALLY

this past month has just been crazy busy for me with work related things so I've hardly had the time or energy to write :,) I found some time to work on it today and I'm hoping to work as best I can this month before the crazy holiday bs next month!! I can't thank you enough for your patience 💞

[sutekh94]

Hoooh boy do I have some thoughts about Cohost shutting down.

I've been working on this post for a few days, letting thoughts simmer enough to be presentable enough, so… here goes something!

Yeah, I'm sad about that. Not surprised that it happened, but still sad. Cohost had a good philosophy behind it, wanting to build a social media platform without much of the usual trappings, and I appreciate all the work its creators, Anti-Software Software Club, put in to make that philosophy real. And it was real, if only for a couple of years. I'm so glad my art found an audience there, even getting a few lovely comments. I feel bad for everyone who set up shop there who now has to scramble towards other platforms to host their stuff on. I can understand why some people decided they were finished with social media after the site announced they were gonna shut down at the end of 2024.

I really wish Cohost succeeded as a social media platform.

And I will miss it.

All that said… (here come the controversial takes)

I don't hold much sympathy for its staff and ASSC. It really felt like they had no business sense nor did they want to have any business sense. That showed especially in how unprofessional some of their financial updates - and lack thereof on occasion - were. Casually saying "oops I forgot to do the update for X month" despite further funding for the site hinging on regular posting of said updates, acting all "we're your friends!!!" at times, and so on. Then there were things like the eggbux debacle, ASSC thinking they were gonna turn Cohost into a Patreon competitor without having the knowledge or resources to do that, Stripe policies aside. I'm aware that was one of ASSC's original goals for the platform, but still. I gotta factor in some of the monumental moderation fails the platform's had, including the Nazi incident. Their policies regarding generative "AI" - seriously, not blanket banning generative "AI" was asking for trouble. Oh, and an aura of negativity and toxic positivity that pervaded the place partially because of that inadequate moderation, and partially because that's what Cohost's culture was like to an extent. Still, my Discord server has more moderators than Cohost ever had - three, myself included, compared to one. That's comparing a platform with about 130 users (I'd say 12-15 of them are active and posting on the server) as of the time I'm writing this against a platform with over 25,000 users at the time of the shutdown announcement.

This might seem harsh considering Cohost's staff were known users and public faces there. I don't know any of them personally. I don't wanna pretend like I do. But I also don't wanna pretend like ASSC could do no wrong and Cohost was some heavenly paradise. One of the most popular posts on the site in its final months, at least regarding the number of comments and responses to it, was "Cohost So White", a lengthy timeline detailing some of the most notable moderation fails and racist incidents that've occurred on the site over its history. Much of that negativity I mentioned earlier stemmed from how bigoted and racist chunks of the userbase could be - and the times that was left unchecked until staff was bullied into removing offending posts and banning the people behind them. Remember the Nazi incident I mentioned earlier?

In short, a Nazi made a Cohost account to stalk and harass a Jewish person there. The Jewish person tried reporting the account, posting evidence of the Nazi's behavior off-site, and Cohost staff… did nothing about it initially because "they've done nothing wrong on Cohost so far" or words to that effect, causing the Jewish person (among others) to almost leave Cohost. Staff was then bullied into banning the Nazi and afterwards said things like "we're bound to screw up on moderation decisions every now and again". There's more to the Nazi incident than that, but I don't want this post to be entirely about that. Still, I get it. Moderation is tricky. People make mistakes. But that was an egregious moderation failure that should never have happened.

Disregarding all that, Cohost had this feeling of a group of friends creating a social media platform for themselves, their friends, and friends of friends, but it never grew out of that hobbyist mindset. Cohost felt like a very anti-social place more often than not. Discoverability was always spotty. Tag shotgunning was common especially for artists like me wanting to have as much reach as possible. The only major attempt to make discoverability better IMO, tag synonyms, came in too late to be relevant. Needed and welcomed, but still. Same for certain changes to moderation policies - the "missing stair" policy and so on, even if I feared they could've been weaponized against fair and civil criticism of the platform.

This is a personal thing, but I never gelled with the site's culture. I was mainly there to post my art; the site being NSFW/18+ friendly was a huge reason why I joined, and to its credit, Cohost never lost that particular quality throughout its existence. I didn't interact with people much there, and venturing outside of my carefully-curated feeds, both main and bookmarked, could feel as draining as doomscrolling on Twitter. Almost like Twitter's negativity sort of migrated over to Cohost and became integrated into Cohost's culture. Again, I'm not saying the entire platform was like that, just that the negativity sometimes drowned out all the shitposts and CSS crimes and whatnot.

Don't get me wrong. Cohost shutting down is a loss for the Internet as a whole for reasons I explained up top. I'll always appreciate it for what it tried to do and all the good it managed to do over the time it existed. I don't wanna walk away feeling like I'm blindly bashing on it with a sledgehammer or, worse, celebrating its downfall with a bag of popcorn in hand. It's just… Things could've and should've been so much better. There were more than enough misgivings on ASSC's behalf that didn't help matters. That's really why I'm sad yet not surprised about Cohost shutting down. Cohost deserved better. Much better.

The reason why I've been so critical about Cohost is… I give a shit. It's clear I'm passionate enough about Cohost to say what I said here. I genuinely wanted things to be better there. If I truly didn't care, this post wouldn't exist, and it's possible I never would've given Cohost a chance in the first place. Regardless, the fact that so, so, SO many people are sad about it shutting down speaks volumes. I enjoyed my time there despite all its faults, but that doesn't mean I could act as if those faults didn't exist. My personal experiences with Cohost weren't everyone's personal experiences.

I'm aware that places like Pillowfort have some of the same problems Cohost had, namely an uncertain financial and long-term future. It's why Pillowfort and other small platforms need support now more than ever, and I'm glad to see that some of Cohost's userbase has migrated over to Pillowfort. Unless you're gonna bail on social media entirely after Cohost shuts down (again, I don't blame you for wanting to do that at this point), you're best off diversifying where you post, especially if you're an artist and/or a writer. If you can spare the money, you should send a few bucks towards these smaller platforms to help keep them afloat. At any moment, that smaller platform you've made a home on can just… shut down one day, planned or not.

[tboybuck]

wip wednesday

i was not tagged by anybody but because i have finally been given permission to talk about my steddiebang project, i'm goddamn gonna.

RULES

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. This is an opportunity to flex your steddiebang - DO THAT.

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

*Optional: Respond the the ask with the lines you wrote. (This is me holding myself accountable honestly)

WIPS - all my file names already have titles

batter up! (steddiebang!!!)

greatest hits (final update forthcoming... at some point...)

for the bit (fake dating au, currently going thru a full rebrand)

Early in the week, Wrigley Field welcomes the press for interviews about their upcoming games, the spring season now well underway, and a reporter from ESPN actually has the nerve to ask Steve about it.

“Yeah, of course I’ve listened to it,” Steve tells her, forcing a smile. “Eddie and I graduated high school together. He’s really made a name for himself, huh?”

“Well, you do know what the rumor is, don’t you? It’s been all over Reddit all week.”

Of course Steve knows what the going rumor is. It’s him, he is the rumor. He puts on his best doofus expression. “No, I hadn’t heard. I don’t spend much time online these days.”

He waits for her to say it, for the ESPN reporter he once went down on in the locker room after everybody else went home for the night to tell him that he is the subject of even more gay rumors, less than a year after he’d been caught fucking a teammate in the very same locker room where he fucked her.

What’s her name again…? Shelby? Sara? Samantha? Steve can’t fucking remember. She doesn’t say it, though; she puts a finger to her earpiece and smiles once again at the camera.

“Looks like that’s all we have time for,” she says instead. “This is Simone Tindell, signing off for ESPN.”

Simone. That’s right.

The camera shuts off, and Simone smacks Steve on the arm. “You do know, don’t you?”

“Off the record?” Simone nods. “Of course I know. That asshole hasn’t been subtle a day in his life. The album art? Cheap Cubs uniform? Number seven on his wristband? He practically gift-wrapped the rumors for me.”

“Is it about you, Steve?”

“You think Robin would let me say one way or another?” Steve asks, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “And you can say as much as you want that you won’t tell anyone if I confirm it, but you’re a reporter above all else, Simone. If you get the scoop, you gotta run it.”

“Can you tell me what your favorite song is, at least?”

“No,” Steve says, short and simple. “I’m not talking about it. If I talk about it too much, the rumors will just get worse, and I really, honestly wanted to keep a low profile this season.”

“Are you mad at Eddie for releasing the album when he did?”

“No comment, Simone, okay? Let it drop already.”

“Are you done flirting?” calls one of his teammates.

“Fuck you, Carver.”

“Fuck me yourself, Harrington,” Jason Carver says with a wink.

“Better stay away from that one this season,” Simone teases. 

“Learned my lesson last year,” Steve says, nodding in agreement.

It got really bad last year. Carver had been deeper in the closet than Steve at the time, with the gold crucifix practically glued to his neck and the sign of the cross in the batter’s box every time he stepped up to the plate. 

The media storm overshadowed the team’s eight-win streak and put Steve in a vat of hot water.

Not both of them, just Steve. Because he already had a reputation before Carver even joined the team. And now on top of being a bitch and a slut, here he was corrupting a good Catholic boy from the Bible Belt, tempting him into sin. The accusations had sent Steve reeling, because they were the very same types of accusations Eddie had gotten after… well, after everything. 

With Carver last year it was never serious, so after getting caught it was easy for them to put a stop to it, but it has been months and they are both still being asked about their relationship. And Jason fucking Carver is still doing the absolute fucking most when there are cameras around that might see him within arm’s reach of Steve. Carver’s stats are garbage, so like… anything to have his name in print, right? Even if the only leg he’s got left to stand on is whatever relationship they may have had last year.

There never was a relationship, is the thing. They fucked around a couple of times here and there, and Steve was finished with him the one singular time he brought Carver back to his condo and watched him push his cat off the bed. Petty? Maybe, but he was never worth the headache in the first place.

In the months since the thing between them that had never even been a thing to begin with, Steve has continued to date around. He went out with a tattoo artist for a few weeks before dropping him when he realized he hated the way the guy laughed. And then there was the girl he’d gone out with a few times that had a cockatiel. He dumped her because she had a cockatiel. 

That’s another thing; Steve Harrington, serial dater, can’t commit.

It was never like that with Eddie. Sure, things between them ended badly, and way sooner than either of them would have liked, but that was justified. When you’re eighteen, threats about college and a beating from your dad outweighs every good thing in your life. Especially when every good thing runs away from the fight and leaves you to deal with it on your own, even after all the promises you made to each other.

Steve doesn’t know if he’s ready to reconcile with Eddie; he doesn’t know if he should. They were good in high school, an unlikely but compatible match in almost every way. They argued sometimes, about what they were to one another, because Steve wasn’t ready to be out, but the time they spent alone together remains some of the best memories of Steve’s high school career. Not even state championships could compare.

tagging literally all my followers and mutuals who are taking part in the bang. please join in, today's the wednesday to do it! even if you're not doing the bang and working on something else, please join in!

[tsundanire]

A path for 2024

Okay so it's been a while since I've been genuinely active here, and just in general. 2023 was a crazy year for me, with lots of things happening in my personal life that kept me busy and away from the internet (for the most part).

That isn't to say I didn't get *any* writing in, because very obviously I did. But rather, I didn't devote nearly as much time to it as I used to. And that's okay! Sometimes we just need that. Gotta reset the brain with some time away and what not.

But I come back with a...somewhat fresh—albeit tired—mind, with a singular goal in mind.

My goal for 2024 is to finish most, if not ALL of my WIPS.

"That seems far too lofty a goal for someone with as little spare time, and even less attention span as you, Jay..." You might be saying to yourself, and I would agree. Except I have a plan!

See, I've spent the last few years cultivating some very fantastic relationships. People who've guided my writing, my life, my very soul in some ways. These specific people have kept me from signing up for fests this past year (with exactly one exception, but it wasn't my fault that one fell through.) and they've taught me a lot about writing, story building, world building, and so much more than I ever thought possible.

So, I have a team of people all out there keeping me on track. I have people who are willing to listen to me yammer about a plot problem and throw out some ideas to sort me out. I have people. And that's more than enough.

But that's not all!

I have a very specific list of wips I plan on focusing all my attention and devotion to. This list is limited to three fics at any given time so as not to feel overwhelming when I'm in the thick of it. As I cross one fic off the list, I'll move on to the next.

Some of these fics are shorter (like finishing up and posting the DNF omorashi fic), and some might be longer (like Christmas in Camelot, and some of these you might not even know I've been working on—or you've heard rumours (Like my big Drarry project).

In any case, I'll try to keep everyone as updated as possible as to the progress, not just for general and constant content, but also as a way to actually hold myself accountable. Because, as they say:

With great ability comes great accountability. -Jefferson Davis

So that's my plan, or at least the parts I'm willing to share so far. Keep a weather eye on the page for updates, news, and maybe little snippets of content. Before you know it, I'll have lots of little, medium, and epic sized projects coming out of the woodwork.

Thanks for sticking with me so far on this journey, and welcome to the new friends I'll hopefully make a long the way.

Jay

[pieroulette]

I am thinking of posting a fan fiction but I don't really know how can I continue to finish it.. I once posted one but the account got deleted for some reasons.. I really wanna post that fan fiction because I personally think the idea is quite unique but I don't think anyone would actually be interested as it would be my first work on this account.. I have noticed you are a slow updater (no offense) how do you keep yourself motivated to finish your work for such long time period... BTW LOVE YOUR WORK AND HOLY MOLY LOVE SCAM PART 1 WAS SO UNPREDICTABLE when I was reading that I was like OMG OMG for whole time.. Can't wait for the next part :')

Hi anonnie ^^ THANK YOU SO MUCH IM SO SO GLAD TO HEAR U LOVE IT :(( and to answer your question, It would be quite a lengthy paragraph but I hope you'll bear with it!

It's totally normal to have doubts and overthink whether or not people will like your story or just in any other form of art. But if you don't take the first step, then nothing will happen. If you don't believe in yourself first then no one will. If you want it then you should go for it, I'm a firm believer in chasing after a chance than just letting it pass by like the fleeting clouds or butterfly just bcs you were afraid it might not work the way you want it to be.

And truly, it might not really work out for the first try and that people might not like your story but isn't that how everything and life in general works out? You gotta try again, again and again till you succeed. You won't always get everything in the first try and that's totally fine. But you don't always have to dwell on that on the negative side, just go ahead and try! Don't let it hold you back.

But in terms of being a writer, just reminding bcs just in case if it hits you someday—here's one thing you have to remember: it's quite complicated really but it's actually simple. Write it because you want it, not because people want you to write it (unless you accept requests obv) and not because they want it (for example, smut.) Yes of course, we write for people—in fact the final drafts is for the readers themselves—however, you write for you and because you love what you write, you'll keep writing even when no one does. That's the pros and cons of being a writer. Just do it.

And yes lmao, I'm a very slow updater since I would always plan everything and then delete it, the cycle keeps going on so yea 😭✋🏻 and to answer your question for how I can keep myself motivated to write for a long period is a whole lot of reasons..:

1) I wholeheartedly love to write. I love writing that's why I keep doing it. Even when it's so freakin painful bcs of how dry my English becomes sometimes, it's still fun.

2) feedbacks + compliments from readers (compliments aren't always that necessary tho, feedbacks r.) , they're that little doses of motivation fuel that keeps you going. They're necessary, sometimes you won't get them though. If I have to be honest to you, ngl I broke down when LOVE SCAM didn't got the feedback I expected bcs I put a whole lot effort in it and I had so much hope in it. Apparently I was this rlly rlly close to delete that fic but I changed my mind bcs why? Even though I was crying bcs of sadness at that time, I didn't do it bcs why?— I love to write. Even if no one likes that particular story, I still love it. I had this three thoughts in my mind that time:

"maybe it's just that awful, I can improve a whole lot more better next time."

"maybe it's just not their taste, I still love it though."

That's just how it is. Your mind is your greatest friend and enemy after all. But later guess what! There's still feedbacks though, so gratitude and mental resilience in general also plays a big role.

3) read alot! Articles, books, books bout writing, nonfiction, fiction, biography and almost anything. Find every little thing to keep you inspired. For me, I write for enha! So I watch their vids and their mvs, i actually had a writer's block on Nov and that I kinda lose the motivation to write—thats why you'll see there's two months gap from EP 9 and ep 10 ><

4) last but not least, this is my principle that I have been practicing for awhile now—consistency over everything. In writing, quantity is alot more important than quality. You gotta write everyday no matter how small. You can't improve on the quality if you don't first work on your quantity of writing everyday—you gotta make time for it! Write that chapter, writing sprint or just a tiny short draft of 50 word count. It matters alot, atleast you're still moving.

So to conclude everything, being a writer is very fun but also very painful 😤❤️ I WISH YOU ALL THE BEST IN YOUR FIRST WORK AND YOUR FUTURE WORKS, SKSJRKSLAS IM ROOTING FOR U!!! GO FOR IT AND TELL ME TOO BCS I WANNA SUPPORT YOU DUH 😩😩🔥🔥 I APOLOGISE FOR THIS LENGTHY ASS PARAGRAPH BUT IM ROOTING FOR U ANONNIE <3333

[weezly14]

Are you able to start posting this week because you've written a few chapters ahead again?

hi friend!

i'm posting this week for two reasons, neither of which is because i've written a few chapters ahead!

this is my blog so i'm gonna be frank about my mental health shit, because i'm certainly not going to be on instagram or god forbid facebook talking about it, so - this is gonna be a mental health related answer.

i didn't write much for a few weeks! not just dust to dust, but in general. i wanted to; i had plot bunnies, and i'm working on a collab with seek. i had things to be working on, i just wasn't doing anything. and then i did start writing, and it was hard. and my mental health was not in great place. still wasn't working on dust to dust, but generally. writing was hard.

and i was talking to seek about it, and she said i shouldn't feel pressured to write - we have such a huge backlog on our project, there's no reason why i shouldn't feel free to rest. and then i stumbled upon an analogy.

i used to run. i haven't in a while, but there was a moment in time when i ran regularly. and i realized, i don't know if writing feels hard right now because i'm pushing myself too hard, or if it's difficult because it's been a while. like, when you run, sometimes there's a level of ache that comes from using muscles you haven't in a while, and sometimes it's injury. and there's a skill in learning the difference. and what if this difficulty i'm having with writing, i thought, wasn't a "rest more to prevent injury" kind of thing, but a "the muscles haven't been used in a bit, you need to warm up more" sort of deal?

so, in talking with seek, i decided to hold myself more accountable. the words don't need to be perfect, but i have to start up again because the longer i wait, the harder it's going to be.

that's reason number one. i decided to stop overanalyzing and complaining about how it was hard, and just fucking write. i can edit later.

the second reason is, quite simply, someone asked if i was updating this week. and i knew i wanted to get back into this story, and letting it sit longer wasn't doing me any favors, and then someone asked, and i got a deadline.

i worked on the next chapter this morning. it sucked. then i had lunch, and now i'm fucking around on tumblr, and in a few minutes i'm going to go back to it.

here's the thing about writing: if you wait for inspiration to strike in order to write, you'll never write. sometimes you just have to fucking do it, even when it sucks. back when i was running, and training for a half marathon, i'd see stuff like "five miles is five miles. whether you walked them or ran them - getting the mileage in is the point." and with writing? you've just gotta fucking do it sometimes. the words are the point. use it or lose it, you know?

this morning i almost set a timer, i was feeling so uninspired. i didn't. i got a scene out. this afternoon, i might set a timer. ten minutes, see what comes out. tomorrow i'll edit. (i love editing.)

and there'll be a chapter on thursday, because i promised, and hopefully next week, too.

so no, i have no backlog. but i'll still be posting thursday.

[third-time-is-a-charm]

D-35: 04052023

While not off to a great start. I am currently writing this as I am sat in a combinatorics lecture, but I had to get this thought out before I forget.

A while ago, like a long, long, time ago. Sabrina, previously NerdyAndQuirky and now a third of the members for Answer in Progress, used to have a separate channel called The Checklist. On this channel she would write up a checklist of things she needed to do and film herself completing the tasks every day. I found a lot of comfort in those videos for some reason. But sadly that channel and those videos are now gone. Which is fine. I'm defo still not upset about it.

Anyways, the point is. I want to do something similar. And what better time to start than in my final month of university ever. Well, technically 35 days.

Why Tumblr? I don't know. I could easily do this on any other social media, I don't even need to post it. But I consider Tumblr to be a digital public journal. And I have so much anonymity on here. NO ONE knows who I am. It'll be one of the few things that I won't have friends or peers see. I'm not ashamed, it's just that I enjoy having something I've done/made out in the public, without the public knowing who I am. It's the same kind of feeling with my fanfic that I wrote when I was 13, it's still out there and it's one of my greatest accomplishments.

Maybe this is enough rambling for now. Let's get to the juicy but, my checklist:

• piano lesson

• write: research content, gap in research, methodology, and initial findings for 26052023 essay

• read book for 26052023 essay

• send out survey for 15052023 presentation

• laundry

I guess I shall update later, gotta hold myself accountable otherwise this is pointless.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mechakoopa

Debut: Super Mario World

So a very polite anon has humbly requested we write a post about Mechakoopa! They are apparently this person's favorite, so today's their lucky day! See I don't like to brag but, I'd definitely consider myself as part of the top 100 most qualified people to talk about Mechakoopas in the world! And who am I to turn down such a request?

Now the 90s you see, were a turning point for good Mr. Bowser here. With a brand new clown-helicopter thing to pilot around you might think he's all set, but what kind of self-respecting villain would he be without filling his evil lair with a number of Evil Wind-up Toys based on himself? So he does exactly that- a whole fourteen years before Mario stole his idea, mind you!

Yes, you read that right! Despite their name, Mechakoopas are tiny mechanical versions of Big Bowser himself, not just any run of the mill Koopa, which explains their green heads and funky hair! You know how Koopa is actually Bowser's Japanese name? Yeah! They could've localized them as Mecha-Bowsers, but Mechakoopa just flows nicer doesn't it? And he is still technically a Koopa!

"Yo, somebody rang?"

No!! Not you, Mecha-Bowser from Super Mario Sunshine (2002)!! You'll get your turn eventually! Geez! Anyway. Where was I. Oh! Yes!

This is the obligatory part of the post where I'm like “Get a load of this funky guy”! Get a load of this funky guy! Instead of reinterpreting Bowser’s design very literally in toy form, the Mechakoopa is very much its own beast, with its funny beak and little funny legs. Our aforementioned anon mentioned the wind-up key, and oh, what a wind-up key it is! And of course the raisin d’eclair- the fantastic little googly eyes! Oh where would we be without those googly eyes?

Naturally though, Bowser doesn’t just use his toys to populate his spooky castle- he always has to keep a few on his person! So he chucks them at you in the game’s final boss fight, but he didn’t account for the fact that, in this game only, Mario can throw upwards! Oh no! His one weakness! Being pelted with plastic!

By the by, I’ve always thought the original Mechakoopa sprite from Super Mario World looked super funky! The hair almost looks like its on fire! And I like the goofy grin. 

The Super Mario World cartoon decided to interpret this sprite by turning him into a horrible little man. No, I don’t want this! He shouldn’t have arms!

The Mechakoopa’s next appearance in a mainline Mario platformer was in New Super Mario Bros. Wii, where they act... exactly the same as they do in Super Mario World! Cool! This basically established them as modern Mario enemies, but there isn’t much to say other than that!

Like all our posts about Common Mario Enemies, it would probably be boring if I just listed off their every appearance, so I will just bring up the ones that are worth mentioning. For example, Super Mario RPG! In this game, Bowser’s strongest special attack is Bowser Crush, which summons a giant Mechakoopa to stop on foes! According to the Player’s Guide, this Mechakoopa was a top secret weapon developed by Koopa researchers... to stomp flowers and scare butterflies! Wow! That is so so evil! These big guys would definitely live up to the name “Mecha-Bowser”! 

“Hey guys, are you talking about me?”

NO, we are NOT talking about you, Mecha Bowser (with no hyphen) from Mario Kart: Double Dash (2003)’s Bowser’s Castle course! Get the heck outta here! Gosh, some people just don’t know when they’re not wanted!

I am sure after all this you are wondering, they may be mechanical toys but can they do math? The answer is yes obviously! This is Mechakoopa from Mario Party Advance, and they’re a mathematician! They invented Mechakoopa’s Theorem, the very real mathematical theorem that we all used in school! Everyone give them a round of applause!

I’d like to bring up their appearances in the Mario & Luigi games, not because it’s particularly notable, but because of how much I like their sprite and idle animation! Look at the wind-up key spin around and the eyes go up and down! So cute! Oh, and also because in the Superstar Saga remake they replaced the Mecha-Chomp enemies (may god rest their souls)!

Super Mario Maker 2′s final update was an epic win and a #1 victory royale for Mechakoopa fans anywhere, since it not only added Mechakoopas to all four main game themes, but also two brand new variants: the Blasta Mechakoopa (in red) and the Zappa Mechakoopa (in blue)! 

As you might expect, they can Blast (missiles) and Zap (lasers) respectively! I’ve no idea why they added these random functionalities to Mechakoopas specifically, but they’re a lot of fun and some of the most unique projectiles in the game! Zappa? I barely know ‘a! 

Oh, and I almost forgot! They are in Super Smash Bros. as well! Bowser Jr.’s moveset is a treasure trove of little references to Mario gadgets, and even though Bowser no longer tosses these guys from his Clown Car, his son has taken up the job! Only in this game, Mechakoopas explode. Uh oh! They didn’t do that before! Still, I really like popping a Mechakoopa out of its Mechakoopa Compartment just to see it wander around the stage. It’s fun!

Now that’s all I have to say about good old Mechakoopas, but I’d like to give a special shoutout to this guy in particular- the Micro Mecha-Bowser, from Super Mario Galaxy! For a long time, I assumed they were just Mechakoopas with a different design... But this definitely looks like a beefed up version of the Mechakoopa, with their big goofy teeth, their pig nose and their funky cross-hair eyes! These dudes can breathe fire too, so they really are more like Bowser! And if there’s a Micro Mecha-Bowser, there’s gotta be a normal one!

“Whassup? I heard somebody call my name!”

Harumph! Nobody called you, Mecha-Bowser from Super Mario Galaxy (2007)’s Toy Time Ga- Er... hold on a second. You actually are exactly the person I was talking about after all! My mistake! Though I do wish you’d at least give us a heads up when you’re gonna show up, given you’re the size of a small planetoid!

Yeah, the Micro Mecha-Bowsers are named after this big robot from Toy Time Galaxy, Mecha-Bowser (not to be confused with Mecha-Bowser or Mecha Bowser)! Though I have to say, there isn’t much family resemblance! He’s so blue and un-turtle like! Still, this must’ve been my favorite mission in Galaxy as a kid- I’d replay it over and over again just because the idea of climbing on a giant planet-sized robot and dismantling it piece by piece was so cool! It was like Shadow of the Colossus before I knew what the heck that was!

Well that’s about the extent of the Mechakoopa family. Isn’t it fun? There’s a moral to be learned here, and it’s that, uh... little wind-up toys are very charming! Um, I suppose. Look, writing conclusions is hard! 

Mechakoopa

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

[phoenotopia]

The Last Phoenotopia Blog Update

(Date 2021 MAR 01)

I debated how to open this blog post, but perhaps the main crux of this blog post is the best place to start. The blog is being retired.

The purpose of this blog was to be a "development" blog for Phoenotopia, and well, Phoenotopia's development is done. I'll still be doing bug fixes and maintenance on the PC and Switch versions, and playstation and xbox ports are underway (by a publisher). But I'm not going to be making any more major changes to the game. At some point, you put the paintbrush down and say it's done. Blemishes and all.

Recent Events

The game launched on Steam last month, and like any launch, it was hectic. Bugs Galore. This is our first commercial PC launch, so it was a real baptism by fire. Unlike Switch's one configuration, the PC has multiple configurations and factors to account for. The game needed to be able to handle multiple control schemes, screen resolutions, refresh rates, and more! I had a 60Hz monitor going into launch and didn't know anything about Hz (I do now). There was a troublesome stutter that some players were sensitive to that my whole team didn't notice since our eyes compensated it away. There were a few times where in fixing something at one party's behest, it introduced problems for another party. A few times, due to disorganization, I unwittingly rolled back a fix that was meant to be applied. For some, the game couldn't play at all (really glad Steam allows refunds).

It was messy. It was tiring. I.AM.BEAT.

I think the worst of it is over... I'll still be around to do the last updates and bug fixes, but I'm ultimately ready for what's next.

SO what is next?

What isn't next... is Phoenotopia 2. As you may have heard down the grapevine, the game couldn't be what you call successful. No one's earned even minimum wage on it.

Maybe there's hope in the game's long tail. A year or two down the line... maybe. I won't hold my breath though. At some point in the past few months, I finished processing (or grieving) and it's time to move on.

The game has at least earned enough for us to continue our modest operations. As long as we don't expand the team, and we don't take another monster six-year dev cycle like what Phoenotopia took, we can continue. We'll have to be smarter and faster. Perhaps the most valuable thing we gained from all this is experience.

The Experience

It is a dev blog. Here are some of the lessons I've accumulated from this game's development.

- Have a good menu design. Menus aren't just that in-between fluff before you get to the good stuff. Menus are KEY. Your menus need to be robust, expandable, and *understandable* (to you, the developer). Because once the game's out, you will invariably be asked to add more options. And if your menu design is bad, every time you have to add a new menu option, it becomes a whole new pain all over again. Support mouse from the get-go, etc.

- Focus on features that people will actually care about. For instance, I've never seen anyone praise the camera's zoom feature. In practice, people try that feature a few times and then never use it again. But that feature was a constant consideration factor for every level. Run through it multiple times to make sure the level didn't break, think about which zoom levels made sense, resize rooms because they worked at one zoom level but not the other, and so on.

- Don't do boxes that you can move around. Other 2D platformers avoid movable boxes because they're a huge headache to program and they really complicate the game space. Enemies need to respond to boxes you throw in their path and either navigate around or attack it. When you're moving the box, you have to worry about constantly changing your collision size and reconciling when the box gets snagged on the environment. The boxes were also a constant source of bugs because people can manipulate them to soft-lock themselves and more.

- More focused script. Phoenotopia's 100,000+ word script was panned more for being bloated than it was praised for being lengthy. Long scripts take a long time to write and make the game more unwieldy, increasing the costs of translation and upkeep. Every update we're addressing some textual error or mistranslation. There are some highly renowned games (e.g. Hyper Light Drifter) that do without a script at all!

- Be flashy! A bat and a lightsaber take the same amount of work to program, but the lightsaber will draw a lot more attention and interest.

- Slopes, surprisingly! Six years ago when I started, Unity was ill-equipped for 2D games. If you used the physics that Unity provided you'd have a really floaty character that wouldn't adhere to the slope when going downhill. There were a hundred different tutorials saying different things (use forces, use move position, use translation, etc). You can get rectangular collisions done in a day, but to do slopes took weeks. Meanwhile, games can actually get by fine without slopes. Most people won't even notice. Did you know the Phoenotopia flash game didn't have slopes? Neither does Hollow Knight or Rogue Legacy. You can save yourself a lot of work by avoiding slopes.

(big entities look weird on slopes. Bad slope!)

I could write enough little knowledge nuggets like this to fill a book! But I'd rather just make the next game. 

So… what IS next?

As mentioned previously, it's not Phoenotopia 2. Pirate and I are mostly just tossing some ideas back and forth right now. We'll go silent for a year (or two). Our next game's scope will be more modest in some ways, more ambitious in others. It will definitely be more smartly designed. (There will be a map!)

We'll announce it when it's ready for the public. It might be necessary for us to do a kickstarter. I've tried to avoid kickstarters having been burnt on quite a few myself and also because I worry that mismanaging a kickstarter would earn the ire of backers.

But I did keep this blog regularly updated for six years. So I've gained some confidence in my abilities to at least manage a kickstarter well.

Is it really the last Phoenotopia Blog update though?

Okay, not really. There is some news that I'll need to announce, and this blog is one of the game's main outreach channels. Here are the events that will cause me to update the blog:

Announcing the launch of the xbox/playstation ports when they're ready

If a physical edition of the game happens

If a new language is getting introduced into the game (Korean is a high possibility)

When we're ready to talk about our next game

If (BIG IF) we begin development on a Phoenotopia sequel. I do want to do a sequel one day if we have the means and the demand is there. 

Those updates will be more on a "when they happen" basis, rather than me reporting in every couple months.

Fan Art

As always, I'm very happy to see fanart of Phoenotopia. Major thanks again to Pimez for collecting all the artwork from the corners of the internet! Since this is the "last" blogpost, Sir Pimez can finally take a rest from collecting the fanart :P

ÆV made a series of pictures that tell a story. A Pooki is humanely sheared of its wool to create a hat. The Pooki is unharmed. Nice! Gotta love Gail’s expressions.

Amagoo Mazeru makes a stunning landscape shot of a full moon and shooting stars. It’s a sharp and clear vector art. I like the faint glow of the moon and the fire and the subtle gradient in the night sky. Very skillfully done!

Hah hah. I got a chuckle out of this one. I imagine this is how Gail's enemies see her by the end of the game. CaESar made this image based on TerminalMontage's famous youtube videos. Nailed it!

CrownStar drew two pictures of Gail. I'm a big player of JRPGs, so the first shot instantly reminded me of Persona 4's art style. (Hmmm... Phoeonotopia as a JRPG... there’s potential there...) Next, Birdy is shown carried off after her defeat. I really like Birdy's expression here - she just seems mildly uncomfortable.

There's a bit of a story behind the first image. As Firanka shares it, she wasn't able to defeat the Big Eye monster at the end of the flash game, so she believed a tall tale that what awaited after was a 6 armed Kobold boss. Hilarious! The second is a rendition of the lonely Anuri elder. A rare subject. The loneliness is portrayed well here. I feel lonely just looking at it!

Koo_chop draws the clash between Gail and Katash at the top of the towers. I really like this interpretation of the game's art style. It’s faithful to the in-game graphics. And the lighting, from the glow of Gail's bat, to Katash's sword, and the lightning in the background... Amazing!

Lime Hazard shows Gail with a salute pose. Very appropriate for this occasion. I also like how there's a slight tilt in the angle that Gail is portrayed. Those dynamic angles are always hard to get right, and Lime Hazard pulled it off very skillfully. See you next mission!

Lyoung0J with a digital painting of Gail posed sitting on a rock. I like how it almost seems like she was caught in a candid moment - she’s smiling, but also feeling self-conscious. Cute! The art style really pops, and I like how Gail is sporting what I call the old anime style nose. 

MyUesrNameIsSh*t with a sketch of Gail performing a skillful slingshot. I like how Gail is depicted with her tongue out in a mischievous manner, the way all mischievous people with slingshots do.

Niitsu Kentaro returns with a 2021 Happy New Year picture. That happened didn't it? A New Year... Gail's pose gave me a chuckle with how she seems to be waving the bat around as casually as one would wave hello. And "Phoenotopiyear"... Well said! One day we'll have our Phoenotopiyear...

Ochan Nu breaks all records with a stunning NINE pictures in one session :O

There's so many goodies here. My favorite would be the one with Gail staring intently at the screen - it's like she's looking directly at you. You almost feel uncomfortable.

Next, there's an Animal Crossing villager dressed as Gail and sporting her pink hair. It even looks like a house Gail would live in. Gail is a connoisseur of the arts and likes Mona Lisa. Yes :)

There are various comics of Gail pointing out Gail's weird food habits. A picture of Fran looking really cool, and even Gail rocking a bathing suit. (bathing suit image linked here in case NSFW). Wow!

Pimez didn't just collect the arts, he creates them as well! This one, which he aptly named 'The Year 175' is a depiction of when the dragons invaded the towers as told by an elderly Daean woman. Great pixeling skills! I got a good chuckle from the ice dragon leaving with its stuff slung over its shoulder.

Quo made a stunning picture of Gail playing the flute surrounded by the 5 musical notes and the Phoenix logo behind her. The theme seems to be "fire" and it works really well. Gail herself looks awesome depicted in her red suit - it's like she's leading a marching band!

Rai Asuha depicts Gail in the late game with her red suit, and night star bat, and holding a lamp. She looks ready for adventure! I really like the white outline here and Gail's poofy shoulders here - the art style feels reminiscent of Final Fantasy Tactics.

Seri also draws Gail bearing her late game equipment. Unique to Seri's drawing is how all of Gail's equipment is accessible from a pocket on her shirt. I also like how Gail is depicted with her lucky earrings - that accessory is often forgotten.

Treedude depicts Gail with a bat and wearing a funny smirk. She looks like she's ready to hurt someone!

Warotar returns with everyone's favorite Great Drake, Bubbles! It seems so happy to be featured!

I'm really grateful for all the fanart this game has received. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Closing Notes

Pirate drew a picture to mark the occasion. It shows Gail enjoying a hot chocolate with marshmallows and a pumpkin muffin. A rest well-earned...

Goodbye! Until next time!

[my-autistic-things]

/// Personal post ///

I'm struggling so bad with executive dysfunction, being overwhelmed, and my general mental health this week. It's my lass week of school (then 2 finals and a Honors graduation ceremony next week), then I'm graduated. I'm so so so overwhelmed with shit that has to get done and done really well (I'm at risk of getting an A- in one of my classes and that will ruin my GPA). I'm making this post as a way to hold myself accountable??? Idk here's my plan for just the next "day" ig. Broken up into chunks that go together so my autistic brain might be able to comprehend.

- get out of bed

- use the bathroom, take my smoothie out of the fridge

- change my shorts, put on shoes

- workout for like 3 hours, take a shower, bring my laptop charger out to the living room

- finish the last 3 questions on my study guide while eating popcorn

- make some real food??? Potato???

- type out my handwritten study guide and submit it

- do my final discussion post response

- nap (maybe), go to my 10:30am class, text my boss I can't come into work

Idk after that, I gotta reasses if I can write my final paper or need another nap. I'm gonna probably rb this with an update (or make a new post) a couple times so feel free to block [ #max live blogs his final days of undergrad ] or scroll right on past. I ain't gonna say anything eloquently profound or important, evident by my "potato???" lmao

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Happy New Year! I think my goal for this year for this blog will be to try to catch up to at least the beginning of the current arc, if not with the manga as a whole. I’ve got 365 days and a bit shy of 300 chapters (not counting those that will go up this year) so… we’ll see! Gotta Plus Ultra everything, right? 

(Of course, that doesn’t account for all the chapters I’m likely to break into multiple parts, like this one… alas, I will just simply see how far I can get.)

[No. 9 - Deku vs. Kacchan]

Starting this chapter off with another western-style comic book cover, with the two coming to blows in costume. Really contrasts when you think of DvK2, which happens out of costume but yet someone comes off as more intense/important to both of them… I wonder what DvK3 will look like?

The chapter itself starts with future Izuku narrating a bit of backstory - that he and Katsuki had grown up in the same neighborhood, so they were childhood friends. He considered Katsuki the fearless type who could do anything, thus becoming the leader of their small gang of friends, and that at the time he wasn’t ‘bad’ or ‘good, just confident, which Izuku admired. However, with Katsuki’s quirk came his slide towards ‘bad’, and the page (and flashback) ends with Izuku echoing the words from the very start of the manga - people are not born equal, a lesson he learned at four.

(As an aside, I really like how the flashback segments are sprinkled through the chapter and slowly add onto the context behind their relationship instead of being shown all at once. It’s better pacing and doesn’t interrupt the flow of the present fight.)

We transition back to the present, with the same moment of Katsuki claiming that Izuku’s defiance even while scared pisses him off as we ended off with in the last chapter. Also, Ochako right behind Katsuki, that was a lost opportunity to attack, even if it wouldn’t have worked. I suppose it was part of Izuku’s plan, but still…

Tenya tries to get Katsuki to give him an update, but Katsuki just tells him to shut up and keep watch while Katsuki wrecks ‘someone’ (cough Izuku). Tenya tries to warn Katsuki to not let emotions get the better of him, only to be frustrated when Katsuki cuts the transceiver, calling him a scoundrel. 

Honestly, this is really fucking hilarious considering a few dozen chapters from now is basically:

Tensei: is injured

Tenya: (✿◉‿◉)🔪

Moving on, we switch back to the viewing room, with Kirishima asking about the lack of sound from the cameras. All Might notes they’re communicating with micro-transceivers given to them along with the blueprints and capture tape - the latter of which is used to provide proof of ‘capture’ when tied around the opponent. Kirishima then goes on to ask/clarify that the heroes only have fifteen minutes but no idea where the weapon is located, which All Might confirms. Mina (finally looking as she should) notes that the heroes are at a disadvantage, and All Might tells them it’s like Aizawa said, and leads them through the school motto - Plus Ultra!

Honest to god, what support company willingly made this? Why did they not just dumpster it as an affront to God and make something normal??

Anyways, Aoyama is the one to first notice whatever Katsuki is doing, and All Might turns back to the monitors to watch as well. And so we switch back to inside the building, with Katsuki blasting himself at Izuku. Izuku tells Ochako to run ahead while blocking an explosion-boosted kick to the head. Ochako does so despite her obvious worry for Izuku, and Katsuki ignores her entirely, telling Izuku to worry about himself. Katsuki then gets a moment of shock when Izuku turns out to have used the capture tape to catch Katsuki’s leg before he could pull it away.

Notebook no. 10… we have no idea when he started them, but based on the average time of a notebook being a few months shy of a year, this would likely have been either his last year of elementary or first year of middle school (about age 11/12), so… Izuku has known Eraserhead for quite a while - perhaps in a desperate search for heroes who fought ‘quirkless’ or ‘almost quirkless’? Sadly, I can't make out the text on the page, though I know there’s translations out there that I just have no idea how to locate at the moment… alas.

But yeah, Izuku predicts Katsuki’s next move, and takes advantage of that knowledge to dodge under the next blast without injury. The rest of the class is impressed with Izuku’s ability to go toe-to-toe against the entrance exam’s top scorer without his quirk, while Katsuki keeps getting shocked at Izuku’s moves. 

All Might notes that Izuku has always excelled at making split-second decisions, and also his thorough memorization of all the hero-related things he’s been writing in his notebooks - with a short flashback to All Might reading through the notebook while Izuku had been unconscious after being attacked by the Sludge Villain!

Izuku is frustrated, thinking that he had Katsuki, but that one rope wouldn’t be enough to hold him. He thinks about how Toshinori told him he could be a hero, and that with all that support behind him, it was time to show what he was made of. 

...and then he immediately bolts around a corner, with Katsuki snapping at Izuku to get back, and then going on to shout about how it ‘must have been fun tricking Katsuki all this time’ and ‘hiding that flashy quirk of his’. Izuku’s expression at that is, according to the discord (because I can’t quite tell myself) frustration, but it might also be a bit of sadness as well? 

Katsuki finishes his complaints / telling with more explosions and shouting how Izuku should ‘bring it on’ and that he’d still crush him. With the class, Kaminari notes how angry Katsuki is and that it’s scary. All Might himself…

Wow. Why do people in this fandom think Izuku is way too nice and forgiving of Katsuki when we get moments like this?

Fanon Izuku 1: Kacchan has done nothing wrong ever in his entire life

Fanon Izuku 2: Bakugou is a horrible human being who should never have been allowed to be a hero

Canon Izuku: Kacchan is actually a bitch, but damn do I admire his confidence and skill

Also, we see you there Nerd Might:

We come back to Izuku crouched down by a corner somewhere, panting a bit as he analyses the situation. He notes how Katsuki came right for him and ignored Ochako, and that the smart play for the villain team would have been for Tenya to be the vanguard because of his superior mobility and speed. Since he bets Tenya also knows that, this is probably Katsuki rampaging on his own, so there’s no teamwork happening. We then get a lovely mental image while Izku notes that if both of them had come at the hero team from the start, it would have been really hard to win. He also notes that sticking with Ochako would have likely led to that two on two situation, with him and Ochako wasting too much time on Katsuki, but with them split up, they have a stronger chance since she can go after the weapon and capture Tenya. If he can just follow after her, it’ll be a two on one fight against him, meaning they’ll win! 

...so long as Izuku can win against Katsuki. He wipes at the small amount of blood trickling from his nose, telling himself he’ll be fine so long as he watches out for Katsuki’s palms. He thinks back on the past, where he’d told Katsuki he wasn’t trying to compete with him, and says in the present that he takes it all back. 

Since the next couple of pages are the flashback portions on Katsuki’s end, I am gonna cut it off here, because those deserve their own post.

Also, on request from the discord:

[fall-to-rise-98]

Kingdom Fall: 

 Amity Reject

Before choosing Dauntless at her choosing ceremony and becoming a true Dauntless member Amity-born Anna never felt accepted in her faction, but she took a leap of faith and learned fast how to make it through initiation. She took her aptitude test and got Divergent though, having shown an affinity for three other factions: Abnegation, Erudite, and Candor. Peace was something she wasn’t accustom to and she had been known to become violent at times, so that ruled out Amity. Dauntless was for the brave and courageous, which she could manage. Although some fears she thought seemed permanently etched onto her soul. Before choosing Dauntless Anna had also never known true love, then she met Eric. The cold, stone-faced leader of the Dauntless initiates. They butted heads from the moment they met with Anna’s sarcastic, cynical personality and his quick temper. It took some time for Anna to break through Eric’s metal armor and as dangerous as she knew it was to be near him, her being Divergent, it excited her all the same. Her life was at risk being around Eric, but this was what she wanted when she left behind Amity: the chance to finally be free. If she had to die eventually, just for the sweet taste of freedom, then she was determined to go out with a bang.

A/N: Each post for this story may be short or long, depending on how much creative juice I can squeeze out. Each post may or may not be in order, just enjoy the ride. I will update as often as I can, since I am also writing another fanfic for Little Vampire on my main fanfiction account here  ⎯ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13791424/1/Sweet-But-Psycho. Also, trigger warnings abound: vulgar language, physical abuse, mental abuse, adult themes (y’all know what that means), mentions of suicide (won’t go into detail), death, and of course  ⎯ violence.

The Choosing Ceremony: Part 2

Play With Fire

I’m free. 

I chose Dauntless.

I am Dauntless. 

She almost couldn’t believe she got up the courage to spill her blood over the hot coals, but her decision was neither fast nor did she waste her time choosing. 

It felt like, for a moment, Anna had been moving in slow motion. Her feet carried her from her seat in the Amity section of the crowd of people, all who watched her with baited breath. Waiting to see what she would do. 

She knew most of them would have not expected her to choose Dauntless. But she had and she grinned broadly at the cheers that erupted among the brave soldiers. 

She would be a brave soldier. 

Daring a glance at her mother she strode calmly toward her new faction, not surprised in the least at finding the horror on the woman’s face. For the first time in her life Anna felt a sense of remorse, regretful of her decision to choose a faction that was not the one she grew up in. 

The faction where her mother would endure the torture of Andrew alone. 

The fear and worry on Kimberly’s face made Anna turn away at the last second, just missing the reaction Andrew had. A warning clasp of his hand around Kimberly’s wrist, a dagger-throwing glare on his face. 

“Well, this certainly is a shocker! We got ourselves a transfer from Amity this year. At least there won’t be much competition, right?” 

The voice came from her left, a male by the deep tone ⎯ confident, but raspy. When she turned to face the unfamiliar stranger she found he was looking her up and down, making her feel insecure and small. 

Anna thought she would be able to withstand initiation. She had grown plenty of muscle over the years from helping out at the farm and training in private. Though she was a whopping five-foot-three inches Anna knew there was an advantage to her height many of the other initiates didn’t have. 

She was fast and tiny. 

A deadly weapon in a small package, she reminded herself. 

Glaring at the man Anna scoffed, “You wish. Just because I’m from Amity doesn’t mean I am like them. I chose Dauntless for a reason and I don’t intend on making a fool in front of myself before I’ve even started training.” 

He smirked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Dauntless-born. 

“You got a lot of spunk, kid. My name’s Dorian. Want some advice?” 

Anna narrowed her eyes, studying the man for a moment. He was definitely taller than she was and had a lot more muscle than she did, but his mouth made him less attractive. She had always been a sucker for long hair and piercing eyes, but something about Dorian made a chill run down her spine. 

“Not particularly, no. Especially not from an arrogant Dauntless-born. Are you sure you weren’t mixed up at birth with an Erudite?” 

Dorian laughed at her, making his eyes wrinkle around the corners. “My advice to you is watch your tongue. That kind of lip may pass with the initiates, maybe some of the Dauntless-born, but if you smart off to a leader you may as well kiss that sweet ass goodbye. On the train to the factionless.” 

She grunted and shook her head, keeping herself from rewarding Dorian with a sarcastic reply as she tightened her mouth into a straight line. He would only enjoy the witty banter, she had a feeling. 

When the Dauntless started running out of the choosing ceremony Anna followed suit, at first focusing on her breathing as her legs pumped to keep up with the others. Then joining in on the fun as they all hollered and screamed excitedly. She wasted no time in climbing the structure that led up to where the train was rapidly speeding passed, the handles on the outside of the metal locomotive almost blurred to nothing. 

But it wasn’t as hard getting onto the train as it seemed and soon, Anna was swinging her body sideways into one of the train cars. Six other initiates had transferred from the other factions with her, but only five made it safely onto the train. She took her time catching her breath and observing the others that were with her. 

Three boys: two from Candor, one from Abnegation. 

Two other girls: one from Erudite, one from Abnegation. 

So it was one of the two Erudite girl’s who didn’t make it. The one that had made it on the train was staring solemnly out of the open door, a frown on her face which almost seemed misplaced with her pixie-like features. She had shoulder-length, spiky black hair and pale, green eyes. 

The other Erudite girl must have been her friend, the one with the curly red hair. The loss of a close friend may or might not hinder her progress throughout the initiation process, which would be another advantage. 

Anna looked away from the Erudite girl, no longer deeming her a possible threat. She decided to take a look at the other initiates who may or might not make things tricky for her. 

The first Candor boy, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, stood as far as he could from the second. Both of them appeared to already share a rivalry with each other. They did not see her as a threat, neither did they glance in her direction. 

The second Candor boy, dark-haired and gray-eyed, was glaring maliciously at the first. They must know each other, for there was obviously tension between the two. She moved on, looking from the two Candor transfers to the two transfers from Abnegation. 

Unlike the pair of Candor boys the two Abnegation transfers were practically glued at the hip. One boy, one girl. The boy was average-height and lanky, but the girl by his side was the opposite. She was taller than he was and on the thicker side. They looked like puzzle pieces fit together. 

They were a couple. 

Another advantage Anna might be able to use. 

When the Erudite girl gasped everyone poked up their head, “The Dauntless-born are jumping off of the train now!” She still stood at the open door, gaping at the sight of the black-clad members (as well as initiates) taking their leap onto the rooftop of a building. It looked like they were flying almost. 

“Well, I guess that means we gotta jump too, otherwise we’ll be joining the factionless.” Anna spoke up for the first time since she left the ceremony and joined the other initiates in the train car, sliding up to the Erudite girl’s side with a smile on her face. “Are you scared?” 

The Erudite girl snorted and narrowed her eyes at Anna, “I chose Dauntless. Of course I’m not scared. I don’t have a death wish either though.”  “Wanna go together?” 

A rare moment of Amity came out in Anna, offering her hand to the Erudite transfer. The girl looked suspiciously at her, but grabbed her fingers with a nod after a moment of deciding. Not even the Erudite girl viewed Anna as a threat and together they jumped off of the train. 

The jump was short, but to Anna it felt like it too had gone in slow motion. Just like when her name was called during the choosing ceremony and she felt like her body was moving without the command from her brain. 

Her stomach flopped at the brief thought of falling to her death and at some point during the jump she lost her hold on the Erudite girl’s hand, landing a few feet farther than the rest of the initiates. 

It was obvious they weren’t used to running and jumping, but that was what Anna did for fun while no one else was watching. She also liked climbing trees. Sometimes she would hide away in the tree limbs, covered by the leaves that sprouted from the bark. 

The others stared at her warily when she got to her feet and Anna could now see the gears turning in their heads, clearing her throat as she brushed the gravel from her bare knees. It was a good idea wearing the tank and shorts, but an even better idea to put on the sneakers she kept tucked away in the back of her closet. 

They obviously did not prepare and were now regarding her with curiosity. 

Before any words could spark between their group a new voice called out to them and her eyes went straight for the source of the sound. The Dauntless man was muscular for sure, his bicep looked about as big as her head. He was seemingly covered in tattoos, they showed on either side of his throat and on one of his forearms. Two piercings sat above his right eyebrow and two others stretched his earlobes.

 Anna thought for a second he could be attractive, if he smiled. 

Then his words finally registered once she got over her hormones, “My name is Eric and I am one of your new leaders among the Dauntless. Today you’ve chosen to become one of us, so now it’s our turn to choose you. You already jumped on and off the train, but that is only the beginning of your time here. If you want to become one of us, now you must jump off this building.” 

What? 

He wants us to jump off a building? 

“Is something down there that will catch our fall?” 

The second Candor boy looked nervous, but Eric did nothing to ease that nervousness. Eric’s next words only seemed to make the unease worse. 

“Maybe, maybe not. Why don’t you find out? Unless you’d rather be factionless.” 

This didn’t make any sense. Why would he want us to jump if it would kill us? 

No one seemed eager to make the leap of faith, they all looked at each other. 

So Anna stepped forward and the crowd parted for her, allowing her easy access to the ledge she may or may not die from jumping off of. 

“I’ll go first since no one else seems to wanna make the first jump.” 

Eric raised an eyebrow at her, examining her from head to toe. There was curiosity in his eyes, but also amusement. “Alright then.” He stepped down so she could step up and smirked she passed by, “An Amity transfer?” 

She wasn’t even focusing on Eric until she heard those words come out of his mouth, turning to face him as she stood on the ledge. Her sneakers barely kept their grip on the edge of the rooftop and she wobbled briefly, but managed to keep her balance. 

Nodding her head Anna couldn’t help the sound of Dorian’s voice in her head, echoing that she had better watch what she says. Especially around a Dauntless leader. “Yeah? Is that a problem, sir?” 

Eric’s smirk widened, his steel-blue eyes glinting. His fingers twitched at the word sir, but bristled and curled at the sharp tone of her voice. “Not at a problem at all. I just find it interesting that you think you can handle our lifestyle, Amity.” 

She glared back at Eric and bit her tongue, opting to keep her silence than be a smartass and get the boot before even starting her training as a Dauntless soldier. Giving the group of initiates and Eric a two-finger salute Anna stepped off the ledge finally, her back facing the black abyss as she fell. 

To her doom? 

No. 

Into a net. 

Anna wasn’t prepared for the spring, letting out a startled yelp, but once she stopped bouncing a grin tugged her lips back from her teeth. She was still grinning when a pair of hands pulled at the edge of the net, her body rolling out of the net and onto the cold floor. 

The man facing her now raised both of his eyebrows, just as surprised as Eric had been. Though unlike Eric he had no piercings or visible tattoos and he had a nice tan. He glanced up at the sky like it was a mistake for her to be here, “A transfer from Amity? You must either be really brave or really stupid.” 

With those words Anna’s grin turned once again into a glare. 

“Maybe I’m a little bit of both? Really brave and really stupid.” 

The man smiled at her, much more friendlier than Eric’s tight-lipped smirk, and he even let out a chuckle. Though it was gone as fast as it appeared. 

“My name’s Four, I’ll be one of your trainers throughout initiation. What’s your name, initiate?” 

Anna opened her mouth to reply, but just as quickly snapped her mouth shut and took a moment to think. Anna was her name in Amity. It was the name she grew up with, was given at birth, and has known throughout her whole life. 

“Your name can’t be that hard to remember, can it? You can choose something else, you know. If you don’t want to keep your government name.” 

Anna smiled then, “Any name I can think of?” 

The man, Four, chuckled again. “Before I had my choosing ceremony and went through Dauntless training do you really think my parents gave me the name Four?” 

She laughed and nodded her head, “Fair enough. Do I have to keep my last name too?” 

 “No. There are quite a few Dauntless members who only have one name.” 

Anna tapped her finger on her chin for a moment, thinking of all the names she could come up with. Only one stood out to her, only one came to mind that she liked most. “Okay then. I think I know what name I want.” 

“Finally, now we can get this train wreck on the road.” 

“Nice to meet you, Four. My name’s Mallory.” 

Four grinned and nodded his head, “Good choice.” Grabbing for her wrist he raised her arm over her head, shouting out, “First jumper! Mallory!”

(first story here: https://fall-to-rise-98.tumblr.com/post/643132699387772928/divergent-eric-oc)

[therodrigator6]

Well, hello there fellers.

You can ignore this text post if you want, it comes straight from me, completely outside of Drawings or Proyect updates.

I just really felt as though I needed to take the time to write up my thoughts into a, very possibly, LOOOOOOOOOOOONG post, since I have a LOT on my head right about now.

So, my melancholy, rather depressing, but perhaps amusing, musings, under the cut.

Right, so my whole string of thought was sort of just... proppeled out of me reminiscing about the past... 2 years, maybe year and a half.

I got thinking hard about She-Ra again, LMAO. and I know, I KNOW, why am I even thinking about that damned show again.

BUT, I was really thinking hard about how much I went through, positively I mean, how much growth I had (Around my art and my vocation obviously) with She-Ra.

And really, if you were to scour through my blog, if you went back all the way to... maybe it was late 2018, early 2019, when I posted my first fanarts around She-Ra, you’ll see how far back I was, skill-wise. I mean I wasn’t exactly a beginner, but I weren’t no Grade A artist neither.

And PRIOR to all of that I had more or less drawn fanart intermitently.

Anyone who followed me back when I made RWBY stuff, specifically Whiterose fanart could attest to that. I wasn’t consistent at all, and I experimented more often than not with every single drawing I was making. And don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed drawing stuff for RWBY, I sort of miss it now LMAO.

But I can certainly see just HOW POWERFULLY drawn I was to She-Ra, because my output of content and the growth of my skill as an artist was EXPONENTIAL. I suppose in a way I owe it really to MY sudden... obsession? Fixation? on that show.

VERY HONESTLY, at this point in time, I feel like I could REALLY speak on what things drew me to She-Ra, and precisely what things KEPT me there. IDK I think it used to be a very special little show.

On one hand? I really had just decided to watch it because I was starting to fall out of love with RWBY.

RWBY WAS a show I’d also loved, and which also meant a lot to me, but the things that MEANT a lot to me, were just not given the story I would’ve been interested in. That AND the small fandom space I’d carved out for myself was getting even smaller. Smaller AND very... toxic? Uncomfortable? I felt as though... my efforts and my involvement in that fandom were neither welcome nor appreciated at one point, let alone the fact that on the SHIPPING side of things, it stopped being fun.

So there I was, starting She-Ra up. I’d known about it for some time before, and I’d *Heard* that it was a fun good show, and most specially... *With an active, HUNGRY fandom, raging about a very popular Ship*. So I thought to myself, YAY, I’ll watch this show and I’m REALLY gonna do my best to go for everything popular.

I was tired of unwelcoming fandoms, tired of enjoying the very little measly, *Unpopular* things about shows, this was all about having a GOOD time. And maybe finally getting my works out, really finding a motivation to create stuff.

I mean in hindsight, now I know I fucked myself over MANY times.

You see because, as soon as I started watching She-Ra, I TRIED to do something different about the way I consumed shows.

In the past I used to be VERY ship-centered about my show experiences, to the point were FANON-Ship-centric relationships with shows would make the stories I was watching really boring and bleak in comparison. I had been afraid at the time, that THIS would also ruin She-Ra for me. So I really thought about... NOT tainting my vision and perception of the show with... Fandom stuff, Fanon or Ship-centric views, NOT EVEN CREATOR INTERACTIONS. I really tried to watch it blind and enjoy it for what it was.

Fool I was, I should’ve done the opposite.

It’s a tired old story, and a really redundant thing for ME to talk about. But I really felt a DEEP disappointment with She-Ra. Akin to LOSS almost.

Cuz you see, for a year and a half I ended up CENTERING myself on She-Ra, on more than one level.

On one hand, I TRULY believed She-Ra was a show with a story that I loved, there were plenty of characters that REALLY spoke to me. Characters like Glimmer? for example? And her storyline? for me are *one in a million*.

Of course I’m... REALLY compacting my She-Ra experience. I had come to appreciate MANY things about it. It’s world, it’s story, the characters, the comedy, the animation, the people who loved it and grew because of it, etc.

Furthermore, once my initial *doubt* about the show had passed, I really immersed myself in the fandom side of things. And I gotta say, I really enjoyed it for as long as it lasted. I think I experienced a new level of feeling like I *belonged* in a community, and a feeling that people LIKED what I did for it, and that people wanted MORE of ME in it.

Alongside that, and going back to animation. Geez, She-Ra came at the best *or worst* (depends on how you wanna look at it in hindsight now, LMAO), time of my life.

Literally on the verge of me finishing up with Prepschool and having to chose a career for University.

Prior to She-Ra, I really was trying to pinpoint my vocation, and animation had been in my mind for a LONG time, since Steven Universe really.

AND... Idk, AGAIN, THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT SHE-RA... which told me... “This is important”. Animation is important, being able to tell tales for people is important. Telling tales for people who need it, or people who don’t often get to tell tales is important. This medium is BEAUTIFUL, I MEAN, LOOK AT EVERYTHING IT CAN SPAWN OUT OF PEOPLE.

So it helped me make THAT decision.

Also alongside these things well... I go back to all of that about “Belonging”, and “community”.

Boy I met some of the most amazing friends I ever have in my life. People whom I respect, people who I admire, people who thought like me, liked ME, enjoyed this show, etc.

OF COURSE, at the time, and I really should’ve known better. We met out of our mutual LOVE for Glimmadora, LMAO.

ME? FALLING IN LOVE WITH AN UNPOPULAR SHIP? Who’da thought.

AND I DID SO, *DAMN NEAR DIVORCED FROM FANDOM* LMAOOOOO, you can see how my “I’ll learn to love whichever aspects of this show I’m *gonna* love, outside of fandom influence” policy really just fucked me in the ass.

AND GOD, DID I *LET IT* BE A PART OF ME.

That comunity, those friends, that ship, that show, those creators. It was all I thought about, and it DROVE me. so much so I put up with so much shit from my University. I put up with so many bad things in my life that were going on because of that show.

And I see now that many of those friends I mentioned did too. GOD, how I wish... we just hadn’t.

I think... for most of us things had already been pretty shit, not gonna lie.

There was the pandemic, for a start. Prior to May the 15th I had an uncle of mine die of COVID, which shook me to *my* core, but dear old She-Ra and the Glimmadora fandom gang were there to cheer me on. (This was around the time really horrid people in the She-Ra fandom, whom LOATHED Glimmadora with a passion were making “Glimmadora shippers must have Covid, since a symptom of Covid is a lack of taste” Jokes btw.)

And I think of my friends also, who have always spoken to me about their problems and their lives. For all accounts I think, they’d always had it harder than me, and they found themselves a WILL and a DRIVE to go on... through this, through She-Ra, and our friendship.

Then May the 15th came and it’s all been going downhill from there HSEBRGJKSEHRBGKJSERHGBJK.

I mean... I understand NOW, just how DAMAGING for myself it was to... cling so much to that show, to all of it. NEVER should’ve connected the drive of my vocation to it.

Cuz yanno... even if I HAVE continued to grow and get better the past few months, some things haven’t changed for the better.

For instance, I basically LOST my entire space here, in fandoms, in ejoying shows. I LITERALLY ONLY CREATE NOW... Either out of spite, or for my friends.

There is a VERY DEEP loathing now within me about stuff like... Catradora for example. I hate it, it makes me feel disgusting, simple as that. And THAT kind of feeling isn’t welcome here, also simple as that. So I’m out of a space and that hurts.

PFFT, basically all the pieces I produce now, which I still do with a She-Ra theme. Nobody’s gonna wanna consume MY content anymore, and they don’t. I made sure they couldn’t because I knew, I wasn’t going to be able to stomache this She-Ra fandom anymore.

That’s been another thing too. I don’t like being a contrarian, I don’t like being the guy who thinks the thing everybody loves is bad or wrong, and if I could SO HELP ME GOD, I’d change my entire view of it all. I don’t really care about being right or wrong anymore, I just want that peace of mind back.

HELL, there were people I knew since 2016 almost, who kinda just told me...

Shut the fuck up or leave.

On some cases I shut my mouth, on others I just left.

And yanno... I do feel miserable about it. But it also makes it all the harder when I think of my friends?

GOD DAMN, EVERYTHING THAT *COULD* GO WRONG, WENT WRONG FOR THEM.

ALWAYS, for all of my friends. And even through the hurt, I sit here and think, well I think I still have hope! I think I still have a drive to go on and persue animation  and tell good stories.

But I understand now... that *I* have a priviledge over my friends. The priviledge of support. I’m not REALLY alone, there’s people helping ME.

My friends don’t have that, and I can’t give them that, how I wish I could.

And it does just HURT only being able to tell my friends, “HEY! Have hope things’ll be better!” And then we all turn to the only beacons of hope we shared, and seeing them all dull and out of light. No Glimmer of hope.

Like, how do you tell people to hold out, to keep fighting, to keep trying to STILL CHASE THEIR DREAMS... When you can’t even help them keep their heads high when they’re trying yo get a damned job. When no matter how much THEY try they keep getting knocked down.

When there’s no longer a space were they feel confortable sharing their creations, because everyone they had ONCE tried to please with them? suddenly decided they were of no value.

So here we are.

I’m starting up a new semester in a couple of days, hopefully building myself up more to chase MY dreams... whilst all my friends suffer and can’t chase theirs.

Shit’s fucked. I wish I could do more.

PFFT, I guess, long story short:

Life unfair, Me Sad.

Me Angery, Me Bitter

Me Lost, They Won

Boohoo I guess.

SO ANYWAYS... I really just... needed to put these thoughts out in words. Scream to the void as it were.

I can’t wait to go back into discord or twitter or tumblr and see how my friends can’t catch a fucking break.

And how things will continue to get worse before they get better.

God I hope they get better, for all of us, if not atleast for them. They’ve already gone through enough.

[wayward-mikaelson]

Don’t Wake Me pt. 4 (Sams POV)

Word Count: 1667

Pairing: None

Characters: Sam, Dean, Rowena, Ghost!Reader

About: Sam learns that Rowena gave Dean the special tea to help him sleep and starts to see him slip deeper into his depressive state. Sam also makes contact with Ghost!Reader who can’t break through the veil all the way.

Warnings: Language, Angst

Trigger Warnings: Depression

*18+ Content. Anyone younger than 18 will need to scroll along. I don’t want to risk my account getting thanosed.

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work anywhere WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work super hard on my stories and would hate for them to be stolen.

***This work is posted on Instagram, WattPad, and AO3

****Follow my other accounts Instagram, WattPad, Twitter, and AO3

*****DMs are CLOSED for REQUESTS. I need to finish this story and Centuries until I can take on any requests. 

Forever Tags: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @magssteenkamp​ @hobby27​ @elansaidaris​ @440mxs-wife​ 

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278​ @sandlee44​ @squirrelnotsam​

Story Tags: @vicmc624​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @zug-zwangg​

Part Three

Story Masterlist

Shy’s Masterlist

Shy’s Favorite Fic List

"Hey, Dean, I'm back," I open the bunker door and make my way down the stairs. "Dean?" I set the bags down and look around. Where the hell was he? I check the kitchen because that's where Dean would normally be. But he isn't there. I check the little man cave he made and again, he isn't there. I check the bunker garage to see if maybe he went out and used a different car.

Nope.

Finally, I go to his room and see him laying down, sleeping. I'm about to leave when I see the cup on the ground next to his bed. I pick up the cup and sniff it. "Shit," I roll back and sit down on the floor and stare at my brother.

The lights flicker some and stop.

I get up and pull out my phone and dial Rowena's number.

"Hello, dear," her sing song voice rings in my ear.

"You gave Dean the recipe to make the damn tea," I make my way to the kitchen and place the the cup into the sink. "Why the hell would you do that?"

Rowena sighs into the phone. "To help him dear, he's been through so much. I figured it would help the poor lad."

I rub my face with my free hand. "Well he's back under again. What should I look out for?"

"Again? So soon?" Rowena's voice is surprised. "When I gave him the recipe and spell, I warned him that too much will start to kill him. I figured he told you."

"Well he didn't, Rowena," My hand slams onto the counter and I notice the lights flicker again. "You should have told me before you left."

"I'm sorry, Samuel," Rowena sounds like she regrets.

"It's okay, I'll keep you updated on him." I hang up the phone.

I walk around the bunker seeing more lights just flicker. Something didn't sit well in the pit of my stomach. Only one ghost haunted this bunker and he is long gone. "These lights just don't flicker on their own," I say out loud walking in YNs room. Nothing. Maybe I'm seeing things. As I'm walking out I notice the paper that had some of Rowena's handwriting on it.

Picking it up I say, "Does Dean know?" The light by YNs bed flickers on. "I'll that as a no." A cool breeze brushes passed me and the flickering lights lead me down the hall.

To room 7B.

I open the door and the cool breeze pushes by me. "What's in here?" The lights flicker like crazy. "Okay okay, hold your horses," Then it hits me. I go to the shelf and start pulling boxes down and searching for that Ouija board I bought all those years ago.

Dean gave me shit for keeping it but, you never know when you need to use one.

Like now.

I make my way back to YNs room. I set up the board in the middle of the room and sit with my hands on the little board piece. "Okay," I say taking a deep breath. "YN?" I say her name slowly.

The little piece on the board starts to move without m touching it.

Yes

"Okay," I shake my arms and gingerly place my finger tips on the board piece. "Is it really you?"

The piece moves around on the board quicker than normal. Lucky for YN, I'm fast.

No, dumb ass. It's Santa Claus.

I look up expecting to see some spirit smirking at me. Nothing. "Just had to check." I say rubbing my face. "How are you here?" Even though YN isn't visible I can see her judgey little eyes one me. "You know what never mind, I asked. Um," I rack my brain for the right question. "Are you able to show yourself?" I grab a pen and paper off YNs dresser.

I watch as the piece moves around for a minute. Writing the letter down as it goes. I look down at the paper.

I tried earlier. It's too much for me. I've been trying to get your attention for weeks but nothing happens. Today I have been able to touch things and move them and make the lights flicker. What the fuck is wrong with Dean? Why did you leave him alone? Why did you let that ginger bitch help? Okay I gotta stop. I'm getting too tired.

I set the paper down. "I know. I shouldn't have left him alone. I'm sorry. But he slept real sleep. He didn't wake up crying or screaming. I'm sure you know all this. But Rowena was my last hope."

The lights in the room flicker off and on. YNs mad. I can tell. Not at Dean or me but Rowena. Rowena tried to kill YN a few years ago and YN has been wanting her head on a spike since then.

"Hey, calm down," I raise my hands up. "We can't have you just blowing things up." The lights stop flickering. "Thank you. And yes, Rowena should not have given Dean that tea recipe and spell. I've already talked to her about it."

The piece on the board moves again and I grab the pen and paper.

You should have burned this entire room when Dean was passed out. It would have taken care of the problem. He could have probably moved on without me just hanging around.

"I know, I should have," I whisper. "But I was just respecting his wishes. What are you tied to? Maybe that will help. I'm sure Dean has been able to sense you."

The piece moves slowly.

Locket.

"Where?" I ask but the piece doesn't move. The lights don't even flicker. She must be tired from trying hard to get our attention. "Alright, I can work with that." I shove the paper into my pocket and pack up the board.

I walk out of the room and bump into Dean. "What were you doing in there?" Dean voice is groggy. Then he eyes the ouija board in my hand. "You get anything from that?"

I look down at the board in my hand. I have a split second decision to tell him the truth or lie to him. "No," I find myself saying. "I thought I would try. You know. But I got nothing."

Dean nods his head and runs his hand through his hair. "Figures, She probably walked with arm and arm with her reaper. I mean why would she stay? Why would she run from her reaper when she could be at peace."

"I don't know, Dean," I say softly. "If she were hear it would probably be to see if you move on. She's stubborn like that. Remember?"

Dean smiles small. "That she was. It made sex with her awesome."

"Ugh, Dean," I start to walk away then turn around. Dean is staring at her room. "Rowena told me that she gave your the recipe and spell for the tea. Just be careful with it. She says if you drink too much of it, it will start to kill you."

Dean looks at me.

He doesn't acknowledge me.

He just stares at me with his green eyes that are full of sadness.

***

The next day, I wake up for my morning run. I'm walking down the hall when I hear movement going on in the kitchen. I creep up to the entryway and peek around. I Dean throwing things into a cup. Then I smell the tea he made.

"What do you think you're doing?" I round the corner. "This is three doses in under twenty-four hours. And how did  you get the recipe? I took it out of your room."

"Well you shouldn't have," Dean says as he in a firm voice. "and hiding it in a book? Really Sam? That trick is old."

I watch as my big brother opens the cut on his hand and squeezes a few drops into the tea. He takes the cup to the table and pulls out the spell and starts to speak. The lights start to flicker like crazy. I'm guessing YN is in here with us and can't get through.

"Dean, you need to stop," I raise my voice. "YN wouldn't want this. In fact, if YN were here, she'd probably kill you, bring you back, and kill you again."

Dean stops mid latin. "It's the only way I can sleep and dream of her without seeing her bloody body hanging over that chair, Sam." He looks at me and I see a small tear form in the corner of his eye. "I just want to see her and this is the only way I can, without my chest feeling like god fucking damn black hole."

The flickering stops. Dean notices, "We gotta check those lights out," He says as he takes a drink of the tea. Soon his face hits the table top. I decide to leave him there.

The moment I turn around, I stop dead in my tracks. There standing there looking like she's in pain is YN. Her skin is pale and there are dark circles under her eyes. It makes her look like she hasn't seen the sun in ages and that she doesn't sleep at all.

"YN?"

Her glossed over Y/E/C make contact with me and then she disappears just as fast.

I knew what I needed to do.

I pull out my phone and dial Rowena again.

"Yes, Samuel," she picks up on the first ring.

"I need you back here," I walk out of the kitchen.

"Is everything okay with Dean?" her voice perks up. Rowena has always had a soft spot for Dean.

"He drank more tea. That's three in less than twenty-four hours. Then we have YNs ghost around the bunker. She's pissed she hasn't been put to rest and has been watching Dean trying to stop him. But she can't because she can't break through the veil all the way."

Rowena is quiet for a bit. "Okay, I will be there later this afternoon. You owe me big time Samuel. Not just giving me a spell from that wee little spell book again."

"Okay. Fine."

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

17. A Song About Simon

Word Count: 4369. I don’t think that there’s any triggers in here besides the fact that Grace is still in the institution (which will be maybe another chapter or two, depending on how writing goes), and her and Hazel’s issues from previous chapters. I just want to announce here, like I’ve already told fandom familiars... I do not hold any of you to trying to read this story or any story that I may write. I do appreciate if someone reads, but I also understand that everything is not for everybody, I’m not for everybody, and my work isn’t either. At no time do I feel entitled to your reading and nobody should feel pressured to try to read anything that I write. I will love to hear from y’all and know that you enjoy reading, but if you can’t or don’t, that is your right, Folks. This is an ugly story with ugly content and hard topics, but even if it wasn’t, you still wouldn’t have to read, review, or reblog. I just want to make that clear for those of you in my space. Thanks for your time.

Previous

Whenever she first arrived, she was scared to get the help that she knew she needed. She always thought about how her parents had shot down the idea of it whenever her old driver was concerned. How they seemed to feel like it would mean that the work that they put into her as parents would be ruined if she needed mental help. Then, she would think about her 16th birthday, when her mother said that maybe he was right… the way it felt like her mother was saying that at that moment, she knew that Grace was a waste. “You’ll regret it…” her voice echoed in Grace’s mind. “If only someone had warned you…” The last day that she saw her. 

Months had passed. Her parents didn’t even visit. Someone still controlled her social media. Because videos of her singing at the facility and captions insisting that she was getting the help she needed would show up. Grace didn’t know who was responsible for that, at the time, but all of the comments were disabled on all of her accounts. She didn’t want to imagine what people would have to say about her trying to recover.

Eventually, she warmed up to her doctor and the staff. She warmed up to her treatment, to the fact that she had to get better before anybody would let her go anywhere. Her goals became forgiving Simon, accepting responsibility for the things that she did and potentially reaching out to him to suggest that he try to get help as well. She knew that the first and last ones would be the hardest for her, so focusing more on self growth and accountability became her brand of help, at the moment. At least, she went through the motions.

Some days were better than others. Sometimes, she got onto the computer in the library and searched his name. He seemed like he was doing fine, in terminology, but he didn’t look great. That was a lie. He looked great. He was a little more muscular and his hair had grown out. He looked like maybe he had tattoos, though she couldn’t see what. But, he didn’t look happy. Good, she told herself. Even if she wondered in the back of her mind if that was an accurate observation, wishful thinking or unconditional love causing her to worry. Sometimes, she checked his social media pages to see what he was talking about. 

She watched him receive badges, be crowned prom king, be valedictorian, travel to go to MIT… He really seemed like nothing was bothering him. He had thrown her to the wolves and just smoothly carried on… She would always be mad all over again, that he didn’t even care. It wasn’t even everything that he did to her! It was… but more importantly, it was the fact that he was able to do it and live like it was nothing to him. 

But, that usually made for a very progressive therapy day, and a productive music session. She’d asked her caregiver about the posts on her social media. That was who she eventually found out was responsible for curating the content during her stay in here. “What about my rights?” Grace wondered. She had been creating a lot lately and whenever something got posted, she didn’t know the copyright status or anything legal pertaining to her very personal art! 

“Your team takes care of all of the details like that. I basically just post and properly word updates about your healing process and progress. Your team decides which posts to make public or private. (I always post them privately, and sometimes someone comes in later to make things public).”

“It just doesn’t seem fair. I’m being my most authentic self, trying to be my best self and things that I use to get there are now being subjected to my mother and her team of handlers for me.”

“I can’t speak on feelings about it, but as of right now, you are still a minor and still in our care. That means that your welfare and decisions are decided by your parents, who are your legal guardians and us, who you’re a ward of. Whenever you turn 18, if you are mentally capable enough, you will be able to have more control over that type of thing.”

“I’m 18 pretty soon! But… mentally capable… I mean… I feel like I’m mentally capable enough to discuss my legal rights to my art, but I don’t know if I’m capable of like… rejoining society…”

“Well, whenever you do turn 18, we’ll talk about how you’re feeling and assess what you’re capable of. In the meantime, you can always tell me if there’s something that you just want to keep for you, and I promise, I won’t post it. But, your music and the fact that you’re creating in here is inspiring a lot of young people struggling with mental illness and it is warming people up to you since the scandal that led to you being here.”

“I… don’t care about those people right now. I just… want to heal and create.” 

“Fair enough.”

Stingray Lyrics

You were burrowed in the sand.

I didn't know that you were there.

I reached out my hand, 

only to connect with someone…

But you weren't prepared for my touch.

You didn't know that I would never hurt you.

I dug in a little too much,

And in your startled state you made me regret it.

Like a stingray, you were so cute.

Just living life, just doing you.

But I had to reach for something else, I HAD to have you for myself and it stung me.

Getting too close to you really stung me.

She scribbled the words down, humming the melody. She wasn’t sure if Simon was out there somewhere being bothered to even think about her, but if he was, she wanted him to have to see or hear things about himself.

There wasn’t sheet music in here, but she could use her notebook and sort of guess where the lines would be. She had requested sheet music weeks ago! She was trying to teach Hazel how to read music, too. They usually were able to spend time together twice a week. Technically, they weren’t assigned to the same areas, but one of the caretakers would always make an exception and help them to see each other, because they just seemed to be really good for each other. Neither of them had any other friends there. 

They weren’t antisocial, but they just only really clicked with each other, and Hazel had not been thinking she was a turtle nearly as much since she met Grace, and Grace’s almost entire first year there had been monotonous and for the most part stagnant until she met Hazel. Hazel seemed to make her want to be better, want to move forward on something other than the pendulum of attacking herself and defending herself for things she did and didn’t do. Hazel helped her to really seem to grasp empathy. 

.

They were stretching, silently, getting ready for the dance lessons that Grace would give her near the playground, during activity time. Grace was really quiet, with Hazel was singing to herself. Suddenly, she wondered, “Grace, did either of your parents sing to you when you were a child?”

Grace scoffed and shook her head, “No. Neither of my parents did any of the TV parent stuff. My dad was a lawyer, politician, and ambassador. My mom was a high paid performer turned model turned socialite, the daughter of someone just like my father. Most of their parenting was instilling a certain image on me, or having a nanny take me away if I didn’t quite fit the bill in time enough for guests or appearances.”

“What’s ‘appearances?’”

“It’s like when you have to go somewhere just to be seen. For my dad’s job, there were political or business meet and greets, sometimes charity functions, auctions and stuff like that, and at times it was simply an extremely elegant dinner party or some dignitary’s kid’s birthday event. My last birthday party was…” She frowned, thinking about how that night ended. The beginning of the end in her mind. She looked at the charm bracelet that she had managed to still never take off, despite everything. 

“Was what?” Hazel wondered.

“Too much. It was too much. I’ve always lived pretty extravagantly, but I think whenever I leave here, I might like to get an isolated place and sort of just live there with maybe a pet or something. I’m never going to have guests over for dinner parties or house any ambassadors.”

“Can I come over?” Hazel wondered, timidly.

“Yes! Of course, if your parents let you…”

“I’m never gonna have parents.”

“Hazel!” Grace called. The younger girl just shrugged her shoulders. Grace sputtered air out of her lips and shrugged too. “Well, who needs them, anyway?” 

Hazel threw her a look. “I do, Grace. I need them. I’m 6.”

Grace frowned. “I know. I’m sorry. You’re right. I have a really bad habit of saying whatever I think is gonna make people I care about feel better. It's one of the things that I need to work on. Of course you need parents. Every child needs parents… which is why I’ve gotta believe that you’ll get some! And whenever you do, they’ll hopefully let us be friends. We have a very big age gap, so I don’t know how comfortable they’ll be with you just coming over.” Hazel looked like she was thinking about something as she stared ahead, but she was still standing, so Grace figured she wasn’t a turtle right now. “Ready to learn our new hip hop routine?” Now, she blinked and looked at Grace with enthusiasm, nodding vigorously.

.

Making time to put together figures was hard, but Simon had all of his figures with him whenever he moved from his family house shortly after the clash with the void. The fame that he had risen to over his scandalous book deal and all of the allegations against it had gotten him a very comfortable situation. He was wealthy, in his own right, and schools that he might have needed Mr. Monroe to get into previously were no longer something to be dangled in front of his face. He actually missed the Monroes. Mrs. Monroe less than her husband, but both of them. They really weren’t as bad as she made them out to be. He believed that much. But… they belonged to her. He could have them on his side for a while, but not after all of this. He hated not having Mr. Monroe to bounce things off of. He’d sacrificed a mentor to get rid of the void. 

He had tried not to pull them into it, but eventually, the narrative began that her parents were using him, as well. That he was something to taper their wild-child and as soon as he stood up for himself was financially cut off. Mr. Monroe had been very public about the fact that unfortunately, they knew nothing of their daughter’s extreme condition until she viciously attacked her mother. Simon would have paid money to see that cat-fight. Simon felt bad for them, having lost their daughter to the void, so he withdrew accusations of the crimes, though several of them couldn’t be taken back, as the victims wanted to sue personally. But, the Monroes fared fine, after all of the settlements or wins. Simon wondered whatever happened to the charm bracelet, but he pushed that from his mind. 

He still carried the name The Apex, though many companies used that or had it in their name, so he couldn’t trademark it, but the general of his Apex was that if you were tagging The Apex, Simon Says was also there.

He took his book opportunity as his big chance to move forward with his other works. They didn’t sell as well, but he could say at 17 that he was a bestselling author for Free From Grace, and that by 18, he had published several books from throughout his adolescence and had a huge trilogy deal that he intended to have released by the time he was 20. 

Senior year in high school was a blast. He was worshiped and kids who had only held allegiance to him via the void either came around or were fun to alienate as nulls. Shana rose to popularity and the two of them continued their banter, a little will they won’t they brewing, as far as he was concerned. She got rid of her weave and replaced them with braids for going natural. Apparently, she was going to be going to an HBCU and she wanted to finally wear her hair “the way it was intended,” when she got there. It made her look ever more like Grace to him, despite the fact that Grace had never worn braids, only locs, and the full out afro she had whenever she left. 

Maybe he was just weakening again… missing her… “Hey, Shana - we should attend the prom together,” he said, as they sat across from each other at their desks in the newsroom.

She looked up at him with only her eyes, not lifting her head from her work, but he could still see the disdain in her eyebrows. “For what reason would I ever even consider something like that?” 

He laughed and leaned back in his seat. “We’re the apex of the student body.” She groaned at the word that she was BEYOND sick of hearing. “You’re the most popular girl in school now, and while not my equal, the best of what we have. We both know that you and I will be class favorites and prom king and queen. Might as well make an entire thing out of it.”

She raised her head now and he was confused by her expression, because it was still clearly disdainful. “Simon. I don’t care if I was going to win a cash prize of a million dollars. I would never even so much as think about attending anything with you. Thanks for asking.” She shook her head in disbelief and continued working.

“Why not? Did you not hear the reasons this works out perfectly?”

“I heard the reasons that you think I’m a status symbol that for whatever reason would actually want to be seen with you. They weren’t reasons that I would overlook who you are as a person and how I feel about you as such to put on some sort of publicity show for a bunch of kids that I’m never going to see again, because if I ever come to a class reunion, it would be to see if Grace showed up and how she’s doing.”

“Nothing that you said makes any sense. Me as a person? I…”

“You’re a bad person,” she said. He laughed, then stopped. Oh, she’s serious? “Simon… I, along with the entire student body watched you destroy a girl that we knew you were once like this with.” She crossed her fingers. “We watched you lie on her, make her out to be worse than she was, and bring her so low that she’s in an institution!”

“You hated Grace, and now you’ve taken her place as the boss bitch.”

“Grace and I did not get along. We argued. We dissed each other. We competed. We hurt each other. We were mean and nasty to each other, and even I can see that what you did to her was fucked up.”

“You didn’t try to stop me.”

“That’s not my business. But what IS my business is the company I keep. It would never be somebody who would turn on even his day 1. Nobody even would have cared about you if it wasn’t for Grace and I still to this day think that you’re the one who shared that video of you two. Your lost and found again laptop story was always corny to me.”

“You seemed to get a kick out of it at the time.”

“Yeah, of humiliation! She got a kick out of it whenever my father was arrested for white collar crime! Fucking with each other was our dynamic! But you were supposed to be the girl’s friend, and you didn’t just fuck with her, you fucked her up. Everybody thinks it’s so funny? They’re only amused because they’re scared that you might fuck them up too. If you did it to her, there’s no telling what you’d do. You’ve got people thinking that the old rumors are true..” He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at her. The old rumors. That he killed his sister. They were true, but it was an accident. “In short, I don’t care about any of your reasons. You asked me to prom. I decline. End of discussion.”

“So… you don’t like me anymore because I stood up to Grace, something you did all of the time. We’re on the same side now!”

She stared at him and for a moment, he saw fear. That wasn’t something that Shana showed very much. She cleared her throat and wondered, “When… When did it ever cross your mind that I would EVER like you, Simon? You have been a jerk the entire time that I’ve known you. When Grace and I were rivals, you were disgusting to me. You’ve called me out of my name, tried to tear me down about my looks and my family. Where in the world would you ever get an idea that I could possibly like you, even as just a person that I know of?”

“Because of our banter…”

“Arguing.”

“All of the flirting…”

“Clearly happened in your mind, but did not happen in mine.”

“The way that you always blush whenever we talk! I know what it looks like when somebody your skin tone blushes. I knew Grace like the back of my hand.”

“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing. I don’t like you. I have never liked you, and I have never BLUSHED when we talk. What you should know, as the young genius that everybody tries to make you out to be, because this is science related, biology, if you will… Is that what you’re describing as blushing, is actually heat rushing to one’s face. My heartbeat accelerates, I may even sweat a little as I get hot and my blood rushes. That’s not because I have a crush on you. It’s because you are one of the most infuriating people to have a conversation with. Because in addition to being a rude jackass, you are a delusional egotist. Every conversation I have with you makes me want to punch you in the face. And I know that if I do, they’ll toss my ass out of here and that will mess up me following my mother’s footsteps as a Spelman College Delta Sigma Theta! You, Simon Laurent have never been worth anything to me, certainly not my future. I’m sorry for Grace that she didn’t know that, but my parents raised me with the utmost love and confidence. I don’t need anybody like you to upgrade me, and I love myself too much to even entertain you as a friend. And my father, who you love to try to weaponize against me, after serving his time is still worth at least five times as much as yours…”

Simon threw over things from her desk and she jumped. His eyes went wide. He surprised himself with that outburst. Shana was moved for a moment, when she thought he was about to attack her, but when he didn’t, she got up. “Please pick up this mess, Simon. I will not mind reporting you for it.” She left the newsroom for a breather. Simon rushed to pick everything up before anybody else came in and wondered what happened, but a lot of Shana’s words cut him for a moment. She’s lying. Girls lie, he reminded himself as he picked things up from the floor. But, he wasn’t going to beg her to go out with him. She declined. Okay, whatever. He’d have been doing her a favor.

Sometimes, he thought about her words, though. Blushing because she was infuriated by him… That made sense after a while, especially when he conflated her with the void, who he knew never loved him. He and Shana were prom king and queen, but she declined dancing with him and said on the microphone, “We all know this is Grace Monroe’s sloppy seconds.” There was an uproar of laughter in his mind. 

Actually, only a few people laughed. Some looked shocked and horrified that Shana would make fun of who they believed to be an abuse survivor. Shana shrugged her shoulders like Kanye and doubled down, “You all know good and well that Grace never harmed a split ended hair on this boy’s head! She was as obsessed with him as he was with her. You’re all wild to go along with that narrative. You would never believe all that mess about a white girl..” The dean snatched the microphone from her and gave her some warning that the other students couldn’t hear. Simon was livid. He waited for her outside.

“Shana,” he said. Shana yelped in fear whenever she saw him at her car, then reached into her clutch for a weapon. She didn’t have much, but she did have a nail file. Whenever he came near her, she stuck him in the neck with it and he groaned. She set off her car alarm trying to get inside of the car before deactivating it and Simon just smiled at her as she did. Shana was driving and crying and that was the last time that Simon saw her. 

He was questioned about assaulting her in the parking lot, but informed them that he only wanted to talk to her about what she had said in front of everyone and that she actually assaulted him. Now… once, people might believe, and people might even have believed that Shana was entirely capable of it. But, most of the kids and staff knew that Shana was a mean girl, but never violent. The only physical exchanges she had were the ones with Grace Monroe and now Simon Laurent. She finished out the end of school how Grace had finished her junior year. Simon finished it out with people beginning to doubt some of his stories about Grace. But, that didn’t matter! 

He hated that school, those rich kids, the system that worked for them but made him work for it. He was on his way to becoming better than all of that. He still wanted to make time for his art - writing, photography, creating figures and scenes… but he had gotten really into the robotics program whenever he was in engineering and decided that was what he was going to focus his education on. MIT was his first choice and he had been accepted by the end of junior year. He got his small living space as close as he could, since he prepared on spending the bulk of his time enrolled. He knew that he was destined for greatness. 

But, sometimes, his social media would think he needed to see something, like today, when he opened a video of Grace, playing a piano at wherever the undisclosed facility she had been at was, singing something captioned as “Stingray,” and looking… beautiful. He watched it more times than he would ever admit. 

He opened his own treasure chest and pulled out images of her, them… things that he had made and just didn’t have the strength to destroy when he purged the void. He picked up a photo from the pumpkin patch, when they were 14. She had her tongue stuck out at him and he was blushing. It was one of his favorite photos of them. 

“You should take every photo of me, from now on!” She said, looking at her ones on her page that had gotten her the deal. “You always seem to make me look my absolute best in every photo you take of me. Like, you have a real eye for it.”

“I have an eye for you,” he corrected. “Two…” He blushed a lot. He hadn’t meant to say THAT.

“You’ve got eyes for me, Simon?” she teased, making him blush more and his heart rate speed up. And in the midst of him trying to collect himself, she grabbed on to him, pulled him into a hug and took another of her many selfies. She groaned, “I just can’t make any photos look as good as you can… but you’re adorable in this,” she said and showed it to him. “I’m putting this on my Christmas cards this year.” 

She didn’t lie about that. He tossed it back into the box and picked up the torn out foreword that she had written for his fantasy novel. He went through the entire box before locking it back up and throwing it into the trunk of his car. One day, he was going to find the strength to throw it in a river or burn it, or something. It’s just that… she was his entire world… for half of his life…

“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing,” he heard Shana’s voice say… or was it Grace’s voice? He was starting to forget it. Like… of course he knew what it sounded like, but his head couldn’t place it in the chorus of girls’ voices that haunted him: his sister, his mother, the void, Shana… Shana was interchangeable with the void. His brain kept trying to tie them together and perhaps that was why her words affected him. Or maybe it was because they sounded so true, when he knew that they couldn’t be. The Void betrayed him. He counterattacked. “Getting too close to you really stung me.” He heard her singing. Simon bit his lip, picked up his phone and took a deep breath before liking the Stingray post.

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