#'but what if the emphasis doesn't come across?' 1. it probably will

[autopotion]

I've been rereading a lot of my old writing in an effort to be kinder to myself--like, focusing on how I felt in the moment writing it vs the "objective" quality of it--but sometimes it's. A little difficult lol. I'm deep in the era when I discovered using italics for emphasis. Woof. Like nails on chalkboard.

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

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“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position. 

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood. 

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache. 

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish. 

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income. 

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air. 

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him. 

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss. 

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic. 

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt. 

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you. 

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance. 

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job. 

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit. 

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed. 

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.” 

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him. 

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment. 

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone. 

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are. 

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you. 

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you. 

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy. 

You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking. 

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations). 

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too. 

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man. 

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin. 

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap. 

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind. 

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams. 

“Not bad,” you squeak. 

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

[mrghostrat]

some tips for writing flow

i've had a lot of comments complimenting my writing style, most of which don't know how to explain or describe what they like about it. i never really knew either, but i've been paying more attention to the way i write things lately, in the hope of being able to understand and explain it.

a lot of this is "based on feel" with no hard and fast rules, but there's also very tangible techniques you can hopefully work into your own writing, if that makes sense? idk is this anything—

1 - sentence beats, and alternating them.

this is probably the biggest thing in my writing. i've realised my sentences can be measured in beats, based on their length and how many sections they can be broken into. the pattern changes often, and i don't have a concrete rule in how i fill a paragraph (again, i've only just put words to any of this), but it's probably the most important part of my flow. let's have a look:

1 beat: • this is probably the biggest thing in my writing.

2 beats: • i've realised my sentences can be measured in beats • based on their length and how many sections they can be broken into.

3 beats: • the pattern changes often • and i don't have a concrete rule in how i fill a paragraph • but it's probably the most important part of my flow.

it looks like a favour certain patterns, the only real "rule" i use is to construct a paragraph with various beats, and never put two side by side. whenever i'm struggling with my flow, it's usually because i've put two of the same beats next to each other and everything feels either stiff or crowded. i rarely put two side by side, unless it's for specific emphasis.

the other exception are paragraph breaks: these are a pause for breath, and allow us to reset the pattern. i often start and end my paragraphs with single beat sentences, and it doesn't feel like they're running on because there's that lovely breath between them.

2 - short paragraphs

the rule we learn in school is that new paragraphs are for new ideas. convert this to prose, and we can consider "ideas" to include the character's thoughts, new narrative tangents, and physical movement around a scene.

one of my biggest struggles reading "bad" fanfic is when paragraphs are too lumped together. crowley will walk into the bookshop, see aziraphale across the way, wander over to a shelf, select a book, then pour himself a drink all in one big chunk. i can't parse that. there doesn't have to be a new line break for every new action, but grouping the relevant ones together and breaking in between broad motions (i.e. walking across a room, acknowledging a character) can help ease readers through the scene.

paragraphs are a breath, not only for sentence flow, but for processing the action within a story. similarly, purposefully keeping multiple actions confined to a single paragraph can make them feel quicker, while breaking them up into multiple paragraphs will slow down the pacing (even if the amount of detail describing each action is the same). included some examples because i'm struggling to explain this one

3 - mixing metaphors

this might sound less flow related, but i used to struggle with it a lot as a young writer, and paying more attention to it has definitely helped clean up my flow and writing overall.

i love a good analogy, but it can be easy to get carried away, and this can bog down the prose. my personal rule is that i can get silly with my metaphors (see: the mon chéri magnet), but i can only use one at a time. no talking about the magnet in aziraphale's chest and the angel and demon on his shoulder within the same scene.

if i'm getting silly and long winded with a metaphor, i also try to limit the length of it to one or two paragraphs. paragraph 1: set up the metaphor, establish the analogy. paragraph 2: come back to the reality of the scene, then mention the metaphor once more to link it all together. if i'm feeling cheeky, then i mention the metaphor again ONCE in passing, a couple of paragraphs or even chapters later

the magnet was a fun one, because i kind of flipped how i would usually present a metaphor, with the long winded tangent coming last instead of being the set up. and even though i used the metaphor 3 times, it felt like 2 because the set up was really just a planted seed for what i'd be mentioning later in the theatre. referencing the "whispered curse in the dark" also helped tie the scenes together and keep the analogies neat and tidy in our heads

meanwhile i got a little more carried away with the space metaphor in postcards (i feel like there's probably a 4th and maybe even 5th mention during the bookshop scene), but each one was blink-and-you'll-miss-it brief that didn't slog down the prose.

4 - avoiding repetitive pronouns

we're all going to struggle with this, and i don't have a secret hack for avoiding a wall of "he this, he that, he then," and i honestly try not to beat myself up over it too much. but there are two things i check to make sure it's not getting too repetitive:

1. looking within a paragraph

apparently everything revolves around paragraphs and the breath between them lmao. i don't have a strict rule like "use the character's name once per paragraph, then 'he' for the rest" or anything like that, but it's in that kind of vein. i simply pay attention to one paragraph at a time to watch for too much repetition, and if i notice it's been one or two whole blocks without switching from 'he' to a name, i'll chuck one in to break it up.

2. paragraph starters

this is so picky. and i don't know if it does ANYTHING, but it bugs me when i'm writing and i notice every paragraph starts the same way. maybe it has no effect on the flow at all. but i like to make sure my paragraphs aren't starting with the same "he" "he" "he", and that forces me to go back and switch around the pronouns in recent sentences, so the next paragraph can flow on more smoothly.

5 - use interruptions appropriately

edit: sneaking this one in here as a final thought! i just want to mention the use of em-dashes, semicolons, footnotes, and parenthesis mid-sentence. it's common to favour one in particular, but each have spectacular uses and can add miles to the pacing and flow of your prose.

em-dash (—) interruptions, cutting off dialogue— pausing to make a point — like this — in the middle of a sentence.

semicolon (;) helps with making lists and continuing a compound sentence that doesn't really link with 'and' or 'but'; when you want to pause, but a new sentence would break the flow of things.

footnotes (¹) these should be optional additions to the text imo. you should be able to keep reading without looking at the footnotes and not lose an ounce of story. they're additive, not necessary.

parenthesis ( () ) a great way to interrupt yourself (less sharply) than with em-dashes, include longer pieces of information (like what you might put in a footnote, except more crucial to the narrative that you don't want people to miss!) and adding sass (lol) and tone to your prose.

[luv-y0urself]

neighbor!boynextdoor

neighbor!boynextdoor x fem!reader genre : slice of life! | wc : 576 words | warnings : mild cursing… only used to get the point across :') 𖤐．omg first post ! soo excited to enter the bnd community here :>

boy #1: park sungho / good boy next door

sungho moves into the room next to you and suddenly all of your friends want to stay at your tiny studio apartment just to get a glance at him

and besides... he's also super nice

will probably will catch your bugs for you if you need him to

he's also the type that will probably come and knock on your door to wake you up if you mentioned that if you need to wake up to do something on a certain day

boy #2: lee riwoo / overly nice boy next door

you probably overheard the landowner saying that there was a dancer moving in next door

and you were probably horrified because a dancer = NOISE

but riwoo is probably a fallen angel bc he is the nicest, sweetest guy out there

probably willing to do anything to stay on your good side and that means ANYTHING

will help you with your groceries if he spots you struggling

shares food if he makes some (and it's usually pretty good)

just there if you need anything (even a shoulder to cry on)

boy #3: myung jaehyun / cute boy next door

your annoying neighbor moves out (thank god) and omg who moves in? this cute lil guy

AND he's friendly as hell

makes really good food

lures you in w the pastries (it's the only way he knows how to land a gal, alright?)

he's such a bright ball of energy and will do anything to make you smile if you're having a bad day

this includes making your favorite pastry and being flustered when you mention that you love him for this

boy #4: han taesan / awkward boy next door

you're probably just attracted to him at first sight (bc who would not be?)

but EVERY single time you've tried to talk to him

it has just been awkward as hell

(later you find out from him that that was bc he thought you were super pretty but do you know that yet??? absolutely not)

would probably try and show his heart a little more by like helping you with heavy packages and whatnot

he's just an awkward lil cat boy

OMG imagine you spot him playing with the stray cats on the street and you genuinely just fall for him even more (and wish that he would act the same around you)

boy #5: kim leehan / party-lover boy next door

thought all of these would be wholesome? yeah no

the worst of the worst moved into the room next to you: a fucking party hoster

what happened to sweet old grandma luu? she moved into a nursing home and kim leehan moved in her place instead

makes your life literally a living hell bc he is so annoying (he probably has a sharp mouth... and then some)

probably pisses you off even more bc he's hot when he snaps back at you

but is he supposed to know that?

absolutely not…. lord

boy #6: kim woonhak / shy boy next door

you suspect he's a uni student that goes to the school that you go to

emphasis on SUSPECT bc you have never like SEEN seen him outside of his room after he moved in, only passing by

he has no interaction with anybody whatsoever

but something about that intrigues you bc you SWEAR that when you passed by him

he was the sweetest looking boy ever

but one day you hear soft crying in the room next to yours

turns out he's just a shy lil engineering major dealing with a crush that he doesn't know how to handle, so you help him through it

takes a while for him to realize that you are the REAL one there and musters the courage to ask you out on a date for your happy ending !

reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated ! © luv-y0urself / 2024

[mammalsofaction]

Here are things I have to keep in mind while writing Heinz and (usually Human) Perry dialogue;

Perry:

-This is a talkative character who is mute

-What this means is that while he doesn't verbally talk, he's VERY VERY expressive. The most "show, not tell" character challenge in all the fandoms ive written for

-Signing is all well and good, but he's also a big gesture guy. If he can send his point across without signing, I should probably do that.

-How Do You Emphasize Words While You Sign????

-If he's writing, keep track of his notebook.

Heinz:

-Rule #1: He's multilingual.

-This translates into a lot of weird stops and emphasis in his sentences, which I figure is his brain translating words from German to English in rapid speeds.

-There's got to be somethings he prefers to call or refer to in his mother tongue.

-Cursing depends on impulse and suitability actually. He has a wide range of knowledge for cussing. Sometimes Fuck and Shit hit harder, so take care.

-Rule #2: He rambles.

-REMEMBER. HE IS THE ONE RAMBLING, NOT YOU. (the writer)

-His rambling is A VERY IMPORTANT VERBAL TICK/TENDENCY. He doesnt like prolonged silences, and he mumbles to himself. Keep him talking.

-However! Do not let him run away with the sentence. That's the surefire way to lose control of the plot. Control the ramble: keep it realistic but also know l how you want the people around him to react!

-HE IS THE ONE RAMBLING, NOT YOU.

When writing dialogue:

-Heinz DOES bounce off of Perry's reactions. He keeps an eye out for it more than you think. Make sure you do too!

-Perry rarely interrupts him, but he DOES make his opinions known.

-When it comes to Heinz, Perry's first instinct is to hit him. It's important to keep in mind they know each other's boundary.

-When Heinz gets jealous, he gets sad and sulky. He gets angry, but the tearful kind, where a partner really just wants you to apologize actually.

-Perry almost never gets REALLY mad at Heinz, even when he's really upset with him. I think because he knows, at the end of the day, Heinz comes back to him.

-Sorry I got distracted. Anyway, oh yeah. Interaction and communication is key! Perry doesn't "just" listen, and Heinz doesn't just talk. Give them equal communication opportunities!

[cripplecharacters]

Salutations! I’m in the process of creating a story wherein both characters are missing an eye. One has a prosthetic, but is presently isolating themself in the woods, and wears an eyepatch to protect the eye while alone; the other’s socket is either empty, or they have a glass eye with no actual details (iris, pupil, etc.). I’ve struggled to find references for the latter, and fear it may come off as unrealistic. I understand prosthetic eyes keep the eyelid from collapsing, but aside from that could a person just not wear one? If these options are unrealistic, please let me know. I can supply you with concept art if need be.

The story itself centers around these characters after one of them finds the other by accident. They’re painted as foils—the one hiding out in the cabin adhering to a self-made sense of logic that centers on cycles and confirmation bias, while the only who takes refuge there after running away is deeply paranoid and prone to hallucinations. The first character is missing their left eye; the other their right. I don’t want to make a symbol of their disabilities, but I feel their designs simultaneously stress their opposing perspectives, as well as the fact they paradoxically still manage to see “eye-to-eye.” Their visual impairment is just one of many ways they’re able to connect across the story, as they also bond over their obscure passions and delusions, and respect each other’s warped worldview to such an extent said worldviews start to blur together. In addition to this, the story places an emphasis upon an entity known as the “ocellus,” which is basically the “false eye” you see on moth wings. In my outline so far, it’s the name of a mysterious band which the pair discover in a record collection, and resolve to solve the mystery of (regarding the members, music, etc.) One of the characters also sleeps with an eye mask with the pattern of moth wings and their respective ocelli overlaying their own eyes; their paranoid counterpart also sees eyes in the trees and wood of the cabin.

Absolutely none of this is set in stone; before it is, I just want to know how much of it is fine, which parts “moralize” or make a symbol of a disability, and what is straight-up ableist. Please let me know if you need more details.

Hi!

The prosthetic eye has two main functions: 1) to keep the eye area stay in shape, 2) to protect the socket. Both of these can be achieved by conformers (it's like a big contact, except it goes into the socket and not on the eye) which I talked about here!

A blank prosthetic eye would probably be fine. The process of getting it custom painted is expensive from what I know, and IRL a lot of people will decide on the generic kind rather than a custom. If in your world the generic happens to be a blank, there's no problems I can think of? Potentially, you could explicitly say that it's not how most prosthetic eyes look like (maybe someone else knows a person with an eye prosthetic and they comment that it's unusual?). You mentioned that the character doesn't have it in all the time, so I don't think the trope of "blind character has blank/white/milky eyes" applies here because it's clear that it's a prosthetic.

A person could decide to go bare, but the sensation of blinking could be uncomfortable, and they would need to clean their socket more to get rid of anything that could get inside. Normal saline could be used for that.

I don't think there's an issue in them missing different eyes at all. If you want to make sure it's not giving "Just Magic Symbolism" energy then you could incorporate some boring everyday things that would make sense. If they go somewhere together, they could decide to walk missing eye-to-missing eye, so that they see what's going on the sides rather than in the middle, things like that. It could make it feel more grounded, so to speak.

I don't see any issues with the moth fake-eyes symbolism either, I think it makes sense for the story you're trying to tell.

If you want to be very safe, I would have a character (can be minor, or background) that's also missing eye(s) that's not connected to any of the potential symbolism and is more of an average Joe of Not Having an Eye.

In case you decide to get into that, it would be nice for them to have different causes of why they don't have eyes. It feels like in fiction it's always physical trauma, but there's a whole more that could cause someone to not have an eye;

anophthalmia,

retinoblastoma,

severe eye infection,

elective enucleation (removal) of an already blind/painful eye,

just to give you a few ideas! Giving them "boring" everyday reasons of eye loss will also make it feel less symbolic and more like a regular disability. Think "dramatic swordfight with Huge Meaning" vs "yeah I had cancer in my eye when I was 2".

I hope that this helps; if you have any further details you'd like to ask about feel free to send another ask!

mod Sasza

[lokideservesahug]

A Whole New World II

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader (Aladdin AU)

Warnings: Mentions of death of parents. Probably loads of grammatical errors, I'm sorry.

Notes: Once again, Abu is Max Fewtrell because I can. Don't laugh at where Lando is from and I hope you enjoy the 2nd (and last part) of the Lando Aladdin AU.

Summary: Magic, deception and a surprising coveted lamp. What else is next for the pair of budding lovers?

Word Count: 6.6K

Part 1

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

The next time Lando sees the light of day is when the bag covering his face is finally pulled off. Despite his inner worry, he doesn't show any panic as it wouldn't change his predicament whatsoever. As he looks around he sees that he is further than he has ever been before. Further than the outskirts of the city. For the first time ever, he can't think of what to do. "Where am I?" The man sitting to his left doesn't even look at Lando as he responds. "In a world of trouble boy." The man, dressed head to toe in rich silks and robes all black and red, continues to stare at the horizon.

"Is this about the bracelet? Because I can assure you that I wasn't the one that stole it. The handmaiden-" "What would a handmaiden be doing with the queen's bracelet? Hmm?" Lando's brows furrow in confusion. "The queen's bracelet? But she said it was her-" Lando trails off in uncertainty towards the end. "Mother's? Hm, at least she told the truth there." Lando looks away and tried to make sure the conclusion he had just jumped to was correct. "Hold on. Are you saying that the handmaiden was really the princess?"

The man dressed in black continues to stare out into the distance. "Wait... I was talking to the frea-" "She was playing with you. It brings her much joy to toy with commoners." The emphasis on the last word makes Lando even more embarrassed. He pulls out your hairclip from his pocket as a means to stabilise his mind. "Did you really think she liked you?" Lando places the hairclip in his pocket once more. "What do they call you" He has nothing to lose so Lando tells the regal man his name. "Well, Lando. People like us are required to be realistic-" Lando huffs out a laugh. "People like us? Mat-" "I was once like you, a common thief." The younger one to his left holds your hairclip on his finger.

His eyes widen. How did he manage that? Even Lando hadn't seen that happen. Lando took the hairclip from the man's hand as he continued. "Yet I thought bigger. What good is stealing bread on the street when you can steal a whole kingdom? Only the weak halt there. You're either the most powerful man in the room, or you're nothing. You stumbled across an opportunity." This causes Lando to raise an eyebrow. "I can make you rich. Rich enough to impress... let's say a princess." Lando's expression softens at the thought. "But everything comes with a price." Lando looks down at your hairclip in longing.

"What's the price?" Jafar begins to explain about a cave not too far away with an old, abandoned oil lamp. All Lando has to do was retrieve it and he would be paid. Handsomely.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You stare up at the light peeking through the branches as a voice approaches you from behind. "Are you still waiting?" "No, I-" You look down as if you've been caught. "I just wanted some fresh air. That's all." Dalia casts you a look of sympathy and wishes goodnight to you and says "You know where to find me if you need anything." You bid her a good evening and stare up into the night sky. Only the breeze bears witness to you as it carries your words of "He promised..."

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The splendour of the glowing mouth of the cave was the least of Lando's concerns. His mind rung with Jafar's warnings. "Do not touch anything aside from the lamp." He didn't even notice when the stairs ceased to exist and just became a fall. Well he did notice as he falls to the ground.

Lando has no idea what to do. Yes he was well versed in thieving but that didn't mean he had any idea how to even begin to navigate this dimly lit cave. Lando stands up and dusts himself off to the  best of his ability but it's pretty futile. The walls are caked in dust clearly from many years of build up. Max squeaks as he jumps from Landos shoulder and he turns to the monkey and points "Don't you dare touch anything. You hear me?" Max turns away and begins to try and find the lamp when Lando calls out his name. "Max. This is serious. You can not touch anything. OK?" The monkey huffs in repsonce but that's all that Lando needs before he starts to follow his oldest friend.

As Jafar had explained, he really would be tempted. There are jewels draped on every corner, coins on every ledge of the cave. Everywhere he looks there is a collection of riches. He looks down to the green necklace that had caught a small amount of light only to feel drawn to it. He goes out to touch it and his fingertips don't even get the chance to graze it before he feels the small slap of a monkey. He turns, shocked to look at Max when his almost trance is broken and he shakes his head at his own foolishness.

He walks futher when he finally caches sight of it. The glowing lamp lit by the bright moonlight. It was elevated slightly on a tall, protruding rock. Ut truly looked magical. He continues to stare at it whilst walking forward when before realising it, he feels himself sway slightly before he falls over his own feet and plummets towards the ground headfirst. But instead of meeting the hard, cold tone floor, the blow is cushioned by a carpet?

He quickly sits up and looks at the rug. The... moving rug. This can't be real. Lando can't believe it. The carpet appears to sit up trailhead and uses one if it's tufted corners to almost point to its behind. The carpet does it again but a lot more vigorously this time when La do finally realises what is happening. A large rock lies on top of the carpet, compressing it and refusing to let the carpet escape. Lando let's out an amused huff of air air the situation. A magic carpet... they really exist. He sticks his hand out at the only humanoid piece of decoration and introduces himself. "Hello carpet. Let's have a look at what we can do for you then."

Lando stands up as the carpet brushes one of its hand like tufts over Max's face in greeting. Lando grabs the rock and tries to lift it. He squats and lifts from the knees. Despite his straining, the carpet shoots out and Lando quickly drops the heavy stone. The carpet darts around the cave and he's never seen an inanimate object look that overjoyed. It draws back to Lando and puts its two top corners on Lando's shoulders almost as a thanks. This causes Lando to laugh. "Hey, don't mention it mate."

With the newfound ego boost (from his surprising strength from saving the poor carpet) and another reminder to the guilty looking monkey to not touch anything, Lando begins his trek to the Lamp once again. This time he is a lot more cautious with his footwork. This should be easy, just like moving around the market centre he tells himself and by the time he has somehow managed to stand before the lamp unscathed, he stressed at it with a look of concern.

Lando contemplates how to approach this theft. Does he pull an Indiana Jones and try and replace it. No it's too late for that and he can't afford to touch anything else. As Lando eventually decides to just grab it and get it over and done with, he fails to notice the monkey a small bit away being enchanted by a giant sapphire. Max goes out to reach the gem and as Lando grabs the lamp, Max clutches the precious stone to his chest. Nothing happened. The curly haired man breathes a sigh of relief when he realised that his job was nearly done now.

Suddenly, a booming roar comes from the cave. Lando whips his head around and sees Max, enthralled with the gem in his hands. "Max! No!!! What have you done?!"

The lion begins to boom out the words "You have stolen the forbidden treasure. Now you will never see the light of day again!" The cave walls appear to crumble around Lando and he scrambles down the makeshift stairs that he climbed to get to the lamp. The debris begins to block of whole sections of the floor, ruining and hope Lando has of escaping. He perseveres though, maybe he can figure something out. He runs and jumps onto another ledge. The feels the ledge cracking and so he looks around. Nothing else. He has to try something. He leaps from the ledge rhe moment before it too falls down as he shouts for help. "Carpet." By the time he finishes shouting, he is already in the warm embrace if the magical rug like thing.

The carpet flies with both Max and Lando, clearly being more then familiar with each nook and cranny of the cave. The carpet drops the two by just below the mouth if the cave (figuratively and literally) and when Lando looks up, he sees the dark eyes of Jafar. "Please give me your hand." Jafar snips back at him "First the lamp." Lando can't find room in him to argue before he clutches his side and passes the lamp to the man above him. The parrot on Jafar's shoulder squawks about something to do with no longer being second when Jafar turns to him and smirks. "How about my foot instead. Jafar then stops his foot onto Landos gripping fingers before Max leaps from Lando's back onto the richly dressed man. However it's no use as Lando is already falling once more. Fortunately, the carpet is there to ctach him once mire (after escaping drom under yet another rock) and this time manages to safely deliver Lando to the now stable ground.

"Thanks carpet." Lando says between university breaths. His attention is then drawn to Max as the monkey conjures ...the lamp? "What? Max... how on Earthdid you?" Lando then smiles a toothy grin "You clever little monkey." He stands up and looks at the now closed exit. "Now all we need is a way out... Hey carpet?" He turns to said object. "Do you know a way out if here?" The carpet points to the lamp and Lando looks down at his hands in confusion. "Huh?" He blows on the lamp to get a better look at it before rubbing away more of the dust.

That's when Lando sees a puff of smoke come out of the spout of the lamp. "What the-" He doenst even have time to finish his sentence when the cloud expands and rises, glowing and sparking in all directions. "Ten thousand years!" A bellowing voice fills Lando's ears. "Will give you such a crick in the neck."  From the clouds walks a humanoid thing but with blue skin and no legs. It continues. "And boy does it feel good to be out of there." The genie (that is what Lando had come to assume it is with all of its magic) turns to Lando and is suddenly dressed like a 1970s game show host. "It's great to be back ladies and gentleman. Hi what's your name." Lando stutters slightly before awnsering the mythical being. "Lando." "Great to have you on the show Lando. Can we call you Lan or maybe just Do?" "I must have hit my head harder then I thought" Lando chuckles to himself. The genie then turns to greet the carpet and as the two interact like two old friends, Lando tries to comprehend what just happened. As the genie begins to speak to the carpet about how Lando is smaller than his last master, his brain catches up to him. "Wait mate? Master?" The still animated stuff looking being once more faces him as he says. "Yes siree. You have some wishes. Three wishes to be exact." As the genie begins to list all the rules and regulations, Lando only feels himself grow more and more confused.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You hear the commotion outside. How could you not? But you don't bother to look outside, still nursing your disappointment from yesterday. However when Dalia comes into your room saying that yoir father is getting ready to welcome another prince, you are both confused and intrigued. You freshen up slightly and as you lower the main staircase and listen to your father's greetings you finally look at the visitor. Due to his distance, you can't make out any of his features but when he awkwardly introduces himself, you can't help but feel a pang of familiarity.

Before you can think on it much longer, Jafr cuts in. "I am afraid I am unfamiliar with your kingdom. Quadranta did you say it was?" The prince glances what looks from afar like nervously towards the man to his side (you assume his second in command). The two then try and explain their situation but as the Prince says "It's North." The right hand man says "It's South." If not confused, you would have laughed at their obsurdity. "We have a North and a South." The prince's words make you raise an eyebrow but you know better than to question his words.

"Right! Umm... we have things. Gifts!" Once more he turns to the man at his side and you get progressively more confused at this surreal interaction. The purple dresses man next to the prince claps, making you jump whilst also making the doors open. Hm that's odd... he lists off all of the gifts he has brought and and look at him once more with confusion. What is his game? He continued his spluttering and you continue to be amused at the scene. "And we have that!" He points to a hidden object under a cloth. "Hidden for suspence." One of his maids pulls the cover away and you cant help but wonder aloud. "That's... a wheel?" What's so special about it?

He smiles almost uncertainly. "It's uh. Very expensive." You turn to look at him once more. "And what do you hope to but with this expensive..." "You" He happing exclaims. This causes everyone around you to gaps and whitely murmer. Clearly realising how that came across, his eyes widen. "No! No, no, no, no. I didn't mean- A moment with you"." You find yourself biting your tongue in frustration. "Are yous uggesing that I am for sale?" He stares at you (almost tenderly?) "Of course.......not!" The pause once again causes gasps to erupt.

"No! Of course not." You look down "wow. Please excuse me, I need to go and... find some bread." Dalia then turns to look at him. "For the jams you spoke much of. You did great." The water in her voice however tells a different story. "That's not- what I meant." Your father tries tries dissolve the tension still palleable in the room. "You will get a glance to speak again... at dinner. We hope you can join us tonight for our harvest celebration your highness" Lando bows awkwardly as your father turns away, shaking his head. "Of course your serene self. We will join you."

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

As evening approaches, you find a nice dress for the celebration tonight. You spend the first part if the evening stood out of the way with Dalia, surveying your surroundings when Prince Anders approaches you. "Oh princess Y/N!" He happily exclaims. "Oh prince Anders... you're still here?" You keep the awkward convearyion going until he gets swept up in aconbeartion with another foreign ruler. Your eyes continue to sweep around the room. "Oh look, another prince only interested in my father." Dalia continues to look when she spots a group of men in the opposite corner. "What about that one. He might be different.... and he has a really attractive friend, please make it work." You smile at her antics. "And what about the prince from earlier?" "Aw. Look at him, he's trying so hard." You hum in agreement. "Exactly the problem."

Dalia looks to your side. "Oh. He's here. Act natural." The prince looks at you. "I am so sorry about the jams and the jewels" Your eyes scan his face. And no... he can't be! "And... and the buying you? Uhm that wasn't me. It was me! I don't have like an evil twin or anything But I uhm-" At the distant sound of applause, he scrambles to continue the conversation  but you ebat him to it. "Dance? I'd love nothing more."

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After what started as a very nice dance but what turned into a showy display, you find yourself fleeing the crowded ballroom.

When you and Dalia have been left alone in your room for a short while, you dudenely hear a loud knock. You see Falia conversing with... the Prince's right hand man from earlier? Strange... She then shuts the door and does a very happy celebration routine and you can help but revel in her much deserved joy. She opens the door and steps back a monet later with a bouquet of flowers in her hand, how sweet. You overhear the man asking asking on a date and when she closes the floor once again and throws the flowers to you to keep safe, you loudly mouth "go!" to her...

Then for the second time this evening, you hear a knock. "Come in." You call to the visor. "I'm actually already in. " You then to the man on your balcony. "Don't move." You hold your hand out as a warning when you hear the distant growls of Raja. The tiger quickly rises. "I just came back to-" "How did you manage to get there? Hm?" He casts you a confused look as if you'd aid him on what to say. "Magic carpet?" You scoff at his obviously unrealistic words. "I'm actualy glad you're here." "You are?" You turn away from the man and back to the table. "Mhm. I've been trying to find Quadranta. Yet I can't seme to find it on any map. Care to show me?" The prince looks almost terrified so he awnsers. "I'd love to!" You berate you tiger as he goes to approach the Prince (who is making your head run wild with so many theories and questions).

He walks up to you and gives you almost an uneasy smile. He gently takes the map from your hands and you see his eyes begin to scan the map. He continues to look at it a bit too long for your tastes and so you interject "Anything wrong your highness?" "Uhm..no. and Quadrantia is here!" He points to a random point in the map and you fully expect to see nothing at all luke the many times you've checked. Yet to your surprise, there is a place called Quadrantia lying under his finger.

You look at him in confusion and slight awe "How did you... I've looked at these maps hundreds of times and never seen that." He grins at you "You mustn't have looked hard enough." "That's impossible, I've spent hours pouring over these maps." You look down in slight embarrassment. The prince, clearly sensing your sorrow approaches you.

"How would you like to go on a walk." You smile slightly but turn to him and give him a sympathetic glance. "I can't. I'm not allowed to leave the Palace." "No one has to know..." You smile at his insistand but stand up straight "It's impossible, there are guards overseeing every door. We wouldn't wouldn't able to leave." He smirks at your words "Who said anything about using the door?" You cast him a questioning glance and gesture for him to elaborate. He runs to the balcony as you ask "Oh and how are we meant to leave from there?"

He jumps onto the railing, "Magic carpet of course." He steps back, free falling into the open air and you feel your heart drop. That is until you see him float back up, baing held by.... Oh wow. A 'magic' carpet. He holds out his hand, "Will you accompany me your highness?" You smile at his words and hesitantly grab his hand. "And you're sure rhis is safe?" He nods and begins to look more serious. "His words make something in your stomach flutter and with that, the two of you fly away from the palace.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After what could only be described as a truly magnificent evening, the prince flew the both of you back to your home. However, rather than flying back to your balcony, he flew above the palace and landed on the roof. "Come on, I want to show you something." He jumps down and once more holds his hand out for you to take. You step down and sit on the roof next to him, eagerly awaiting what he wanted you to see. Before you can spend much longer looking at his gorgeous (and only familiar side profile?) The sky lights up in gorgeous hues of purple and blue.

You stare at the sky in awe. You sit like that for a few minutes and continue to stare at the giant display. "I've never seen it like this." Lando let's out a hum and at his lack of awnser you tuen to look at him, only go find his eyes already fixed on you. You send him a soft smile and continue to scan his features. He can't help feel a hint of nervousness of you possibly discovering his identity depiste the genies hexes but when you look back at the fireworks, he calms down."Sometime all it takes is a different perspective. To see the beauty if things." He stands up. "And other times, the beauty is always painstakingly obvious." You blush at his extremely subtle innuendo, not wanting to jump to selfish conclusions (despite them being right).

"I should get back..." "Then let me escort you your highness" You giggle at his overexadurated bow. "Oh yes kind sir we must!" The carpet takes off as the two of you let your laughter float way in the breeze. When he reaches your balcony once more, he helps you down safely and you turn to look at him. As you stare into each others eyes, neither of you notice the carpet tripping Lando up and so he stubles forward to be mere inches in front of your face. You can't help but feel a pull towards him and so it feels ever so natural when your lips brush his soft ones.

The kiss is only fleeting but it has your head spinning and your body aching for more. "Goodnight princess" He whispers to your lips and with one more fleeting glance, he's gone.

You walk into your room, fall onto your bed and just smile at the ceiling.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

On the other side of the palace, Lando easily slides of the magic carpet and lies next to the genie. "So wonder boy, how was it?" Lando sighs dreamily "It was wonderful

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"I've never felt anything like it. He was just so wonderful." You gush to Dalia "It was was like a whole new world that I've never experienced."

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"But I- uh thought she wouldn't be able to recognise me?" Genie turns to look at him and shakes his head. "Kid I told ya' that I could try and spell everyone to forget but that doesn't mean it stops your personality shining through." Lando grins at the blue man at his side. "But uh- how long before you tell her the truth?" "Practicly I already told her a truth. I told her that I qas the prince and pretended to be a "street rat" to get a good luck at the kingdom." Genie's draw dropped almost comicly "And she believed you?"

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"And you believed him?" You glanced at Dalia. "Well yeah." She sighs. "And that has nothing to do with the fact that you wanted to believe him" "I don't know wha-" You tilts her head disapprovingly at you. "You and I both know that you have to marry a prince not a stretch thief. If he is a prince than you'll finally be able to marry him no questions asked." You sigh and look up at the ceiling, defeated.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The last thing you expected to hear when you woke up was that the prince had left the palace. You couldn't look your father in the eyes after he broke the news and quickly retreated to your room after he broke the news.

When you later return to the throne room however, you see Jafar sat on the steps, commanding attention. You stand next to the left of your father with Dalia to your side. "Jafar" your father adresses the man in front of you. "You should have left this kingdom when you had the chance." Iago, the parrot on Jafar's shoulder squacks at your father's words and Jafar stares at your father "Why would I leave when this kindogom belongs to me now?" Your group (consisting of your father, some guards, you, Dalia and Rajah) then traverses forward. "It's over Jafar." Jafar now begins to stand up and walk down the stairs "I am growing tired of your incompetence." He then rubs the lamp and before your eyes, a giant blue cloud appears from the spout of the lamp.

Suddenly a giant floating blue man (can you even call him that) Appears. Before you have any time to think about the thing before you Jafar shouts "Genie! For my first wish, I wish to be Sultan of this kingdom." You send your father a shocked and confused look and he even mumbles a quiet "What?" Before the blue man (Genie you suppose) responds. "As you wish master." You look up and mumble your protests "No..." The genie begins to swirl his hands. Yet another blue cloud surrounds his hands and suddenly Jafar begins to glow a similar shad of blue. He then emerges from the cloud of smoke adorned in a new outfit of blacks and reds but this time with many gold riches. Behind him the throne has also changed. Gone is the humble, quaint seat of your father and in its place is a giant, regal seat lines with purples and reds even with a golden 'J' at the top.

Jafar tries to command power from the guards, leaving everyone very confused as to where loyalties lie- especially when the guards make no move to support Jafar. He then begins to walk up to your father's (or maybe his now) star guard. "Hakim, I had such good plans for you. But now, you are of no use to me. Maybe your men would like to follow you to the dungeon?" Said guard sneers at Jafar goes to pull out his sword when suddenly, he along with all the other guards are transported to the cells below the palace. Rajah goes to jump out at the new ruler when Jafar slams his staff and does the same thing to your tiger as he did to the guards.

You don't don't notice Lando jumping to garb the exposed lamp sitting on the throne but you certainly hear Iago's squawk of "The prince" Everyone in the room turns to look at Lando as Jafar adresses him. "If it isn't our prince of Quadrantia" You step forward and go to say his the prince's name before Jafar speaks over you "Or should I say..." Jafar once again stomps his staff on the ground as Lando falls and his royal robes turn into the aged clothes you saw him in when you first met. You gasp at the man, truth finally being revealed. "Lando" Jafar finishes his sentence and you cant take your eyes off of Lando and his almost sorrowful expression.

"Lando" You breathe out. "He's been pretending this whole time. An imposter. There is no Prince of Quadrantia." Lando glances up at you sadly and you can't help but be at a loss for words as you try and take in the information that you had only theorised. "There never was. He's nothing but a lying thief." You uncinsiously shake your head at his words. Lando can't can't meet your eyes as he apologises. "You're insignificant. An irritation that I no longer need to tolerate once your agonising death is assured. By banishing you to the ends of the Earth" The monkey at Lando's side whimpers at the new sultan's words. Jafar's staff hardly meets the ground before Lando is being engulfed in a load of smoke and was that snow? Lando begins to groan in pain slightly from being restrained by Jafar's power as you feel your throat become raw as you reach out to him "No!" But it's too late. Lando is no longer there in the palace.

"Now, I could just kill you all. But that wouldn't be a fair repayment for your years of neglect and mockery, would it? Remember your face Jafar. You forget your place Jafar." Your father softly interjects, "Jafar" "No! You deserve to suffer like I did!" With another stomp of the staff, your father bellows over and begins to choke. "Father?" You kneel down and check on him. "Would watching me rule your kingdom be enough?" "Stop!" You turn to Jafar. "Or watch your army defeat your toothless allies?" "Please, make it stop!" Jafar ignores your words. "No, the most suitable punishment would be to make you watch me take what you cherish most..." Your father begins to choke even more at the thought. "No. Please no." And marry your daughter. At his words, Dalia shouts her own protests "No!" But Jafar makes her too drop to the ground and begin to choke. Your father begins to strain "She will never marry you." At his words, Jafar begins to add to the pressure being applied to your father. "Father..." You spin to Jafar. "I will do as you wish! Just... make it stop." He squints, trying to call you bluff as you repeat your words more harshly "Make. It. Stop." He hits his staff on the ground again and your father and Dalia are released. "Father. Are you alright?"

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The rest of the day passes in a daze. Jafar wanted the two of you to marry as soon as possible (unsurprisingly) and by the time you are stood on the balcony you are still blocking out people's words. You notice the lamp attached to Jafar's belt and try and come up with a plan to aquire it. "Princess Y/N, do you accept the sultan to be your husband?" You look around and spot Dalia sending you a nervous glance. "I-" The words die on your throat. Jafar places a finger under your chin and tilts your eyes to face his and you can feel your skin crawl. "Yes?" "I-" Your hand feels for the lamp. "Do not!" You snatch the lamp and bolt towards the balcony. Iago pipes up again "The lamp!" Jafar looks down and gasps "Guards, get her!"

Trusting Lando's methods you jump over the edge. You can faintly hear your father call after you but you don't have time to process it before you feel the familiar texture of the magic carpet. "Lando..." You breathe out"Are you ok?"  "Yes but how did you-?" "Genie sent the carpet." That made a lot of sense. He turns to look at you and you don't get more than a glance in his eyes before a giant, mutated parrot is swooping and diving to try and catch you both. "Hold on!" One hand goes to Lando's back whilst the other clutches the side if the carpet when you suddenly dive down into the market. Fortunately, Lando is very, very familiar with the area and so easily winds in and out of streets but when you get to a more crowded area, you brush by a few people. "The lamp!!" You look back at where it fell and you see it buried in amongst many golden trinkets and dishware items. Lando shouts for the monkey (that you hadn't even noticed had been saved from the cold with him). Max instantly understands and jumps from the swiftly moving carpet to retrieve the lamp.

You continue ducking nd darting over and under things until Iago turns his attention to Max, lamp hung on his tail. You fly next to the two and Lando speaks to your mode of transport "Carpet get me up there." You feel yourself let out a small scream as it flings Aldsin up into the air to land next to Max. "Max!" Lando shouts and reaches for the lamp. He grabs it but turns to look at the massive parrot behind him. "Jump!" Lando grabs onto Iago's foot but as he tries to shake the curly haired man off, Lando end up falling. The carpet somehow knows exactly what to do and manages to capture him perfectly. Lando falls behind you on the carpet and the two of you continue continue chase the parrot parrot the lamp still in its clutches.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

On the palace balcony, as Jafar watches on, your father escapes where he is being restrained and nudged Jafar just enough so that his staff falls out of his hands, onto the floor many feet below and breaks. "No!"

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Suddenly, Iago begins to turn from the hideous thing that he currently us into his regular parrot form. The carpet turns so that you begin to fly towards Iago and Max suddenly jumps out and grabs the lamp. You're too focused on where you're flying to realise that Iago yet again manages to steal the lamp and by the time you reach the palace after him, Jafar has the three of you instantly restrained. Jafar makes Aladdin drop to his knees and I a further attempt to sieze power. He turns his attention to you and he mutters something under this breath. You then feel your feet lift off the ground and you loose all feeling of your limbs. You feel your head lift and  look up to the sky as your arms spread out. You truly are stuffed.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You don't see much but you certainly hear all of it. There is a huge fight between Jafar and Lando that somehow leads to Jafar turning red and growing massive. However, despite the power that he truly desired, he ends up being banished to a lamp. You didn't see where the lamp went though. You do however, see the genie reversing all of the damages (including your strange levitation). As soon as you reach the ground you rush to your father and Lando who is helping him up. "Father!"

You make sure he's sat down and you check to see if he and Dalia are alright as Lando goes to one side to speak to the genie.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"So son, heres what I'm thinking, for your last wish royalty was the way to go. We just need to make some alterations to that...I'm thinking Lando..." The genie spins dramatically and finishes the pivot looking like Lando but dressed like a Greek God I a white robe, with a quiver on his side and a bow in his hand. The genie adopts an over the top, deep voice "Warrior prince. A noble heart in a land where thieves run wild and free." With a poof, the genie is back to his regular look. "What are you thinking, kid?"

Lando shakes his head slightly but holds in a laugh. "No? Well this is what you need."

Genie pulls out a long list for thin air. "Oh... boring rules... old saying and here we are!!! Must marry a prince. Right? But boy-o" The genie then wears a dark cloak and looks down whilst speaking in an overdramatic, mysterious sounding tone. "Say the word then this rule may coincidentally disappear." He returns to his normal clothing but this time, acts more feminine and ups his pitch a bit "You and the princess are set. Together forever." Lando tilts his head at the blue man. "You can just make the law disappear?" Genie backs away slightly "No that's actauly the one thing I ca- Yes, of course I can!" Lando smiles at the Genie's words.

"Alright last wish. What are we thinking... Prince Lando?" "Okay, last wish" Lando looks in and smiles at the genie. "Genie?"

"Give me a sec kid. I've just hit the prepare for this. I've seen so much of your growth I feel like a father that's been absent for the first 24 years of your life." The genie wipes away a fake tear. "Alright, I'm ready. Hitme kid."  The genie rises higher and this catches your attention. You turn to look at the pair "I wish." Genie grins "Third and final wish." "I wish....to set you free." Genies smile drops. "Huh?" He lowers himself to Lando's level. And gestures to cleaning his ears. "Kid I- uh must not have heard you right. Care to repeat that?"

But before Lanod has the chance to open his mouth, Genie's arms begin to glow a soft shade of purple and woke begins to come from the Genie's bracelets. "Woah." They fall to the ground and turn to light yellow sparkles. "Wait-?" The bright display of varying colours and sparkles causes the three to the side (your father, Dalia and you) to look at the events unfolding.

"Wait... does this mean that I-..." The genie looks at his bare arms, still trying to process things. "Wait uhm... tell me to do something." Lando thinks "Uhm... Uh- get me some jams." Genie squints  and hesitantly tests the waters. "Get it yourself?" Nothing happens. At the lack of occurance, the Genie's (if you can even still call him that) mouth splits into a huge grins and he runs and gives Lando a big hug. "Thank you." He whispers. "No Genie, thank you. I owe you everything."

Lando steps back form the embrace. "What are you going to do now?" The genie looks around, lost unril his eyes catch sight of the trio sat tk the side. "Actually there is a  handmaiden that I would nothing more than to travel the world with. If she'll have me." Dalia turns to you with a questioning look in her eyes. Once again, you nod in encouragement to her. She smiles at you and turns back. "Whan do we leave. Also I want children." The genie agrees with her words and you can't can't but find amusement in the two's plans for the future.

"Sit with me, Y/N" You turn to your father and sit besides him. "I am sorry." You laugh at his words "Father, why are you-" "Please let me finish. I worry about losing you like I lost your mother. All I saw was my little girl, not the woman you have become. You've shown me strength and courage. You are the future of this kingdom." He takes of the ring on his pinkie finger. "You are going to be the next sultan." He smiles at you. You stand up (and ignored the tears threatening to spill) "Thank you father." "As sultan, you may change the law." You step back slightly at his innuendo. "You must go. He is a good man." You smile at his words and hug him.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You quickly make your way out of the palace and catch up to Lando. "Stop. Your sultan commands it." He turns around and smiles at you. "Sultan huh?" You approach him, lips turning up in the corners. "Does that mean I'm in trouble?" He produces the hairclip he stole from you that first evening. You smile widely at him. "Only because you got caught." You look down at his lips, mare inches from yours and you both lean in. And as your lips are once again reunited with his, you can't think you've ever felt such a magic.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback are always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie

[adobe-outdesign]

Not aure if u have, but have you reviewed the Gnorbu pet yet?

Gnorbus (or Norbs, as I've gotten into the habit of naming them) are super cute, and I'm surprised they're not more popular than they are. They're basically like llamas or alpacas, to the point where their pet day is known as Gnorbu Shearing Day (TNT even swapped out the standard pet image for a shaved version the first time it was celebrated). However, they're incredibly chunky and short compared to either of those animals, so they don't come across as a 1:1 copy or anything. They have some nice use of color to, with a (typically) darker mane and spots and lighter muzzle, toes, and tail.

One thing most people probably already know is that Gnorbus started out as a fake pet called a Lamameeah, which was introduced on April Fool's Day Y7 (2005) along with many other fake pets. However, enough of these fake pets were popular than TNT eventually held a poll to make one of them into a real pet, which the Lamameeah won.

Al of people back used to whine about how they "ruined the Lamameeah" when its design was finalized, which I never understood. All they did was make it look more like a Neopet. For example, in addition to short and chunky proportions, Neopets usually have very large eyes and well-defined faces, and you can see they tweaked that up to be more in-line with other pets for the Gnorbu.

Another thing is color blocking; most Neopets use color to define areas of the design. You can see on the Lamameeah that areas like the white around the eyes and chest or that stripe down the back doesn't help emphasize any part of the design, and were fairly arbitrary additions (though they did keep it from being too solid-colored). With the final design, they gave it a mane and then added some spots on the side to break up the body, along with white on the muzzle. This helps emphasize the design quite a bit and looks a lot better than the original ever did. They also improved a few elements like the shading and the lineart.

Gnorbus basically didn't change with customization at all, though they did screw up the mouth shape slightly (as the lip no longer seems to connect). Also, for some reason some post-conversion Gnorbus have a weird error where they occasionally have an extra piece of hair, but only occasionally—compare the blue Gnorbu above with the green and you'll see the issue.

Favorite Colours:

Toy: Most of the Gnorbu's best colours I've discussed already elsewhere, but as I mentioned in my toy colour review, the toy Gnorbu is delightful. The overall piñata concept is perfect and it's nice and colorful without being too chaotic. My only nitpick is the eye should've had colored lineart so it would match the body better.

Cloud: One of the only good cloud pets, the cloud Gnorbu is super cute, with a lovely pastel blue and a fluffy white cloud and tail. The cloud patterning over the body breaks things up nicely and the darker eyes and ears stand out. No complaints here.

Robot: Even cuter than the base Gnorbu, which is not an easy feat, the robot Gnorbu has lovely bright green accents that are contrasted with its light and dark gray body. Red helps draw emphasis to the face and it has a sawblade tail, and looks good both both pre- and post-customization. What more could you want?

BONUS: The Christmas Gnorbu really isn't anything special all things considered, but I really find myself liking it. The dark greens are a lovely contrast against the white base, and the dropping of a few extra markings lets the mane stick out all the more, which is done up like a Christmas wreath complete with lights and a bow. My only issue with it is that the lights and bow are unfortunately not wearable; if they were, you could remove them and get a killer base out of it.

[dreamgirljune]

Hi 💐 I adore your poetry and I had a question. How would you suggest to improve poetry? I write and I've posted here as well but never received any proper feedback which I can use. Tips?

hello!!! this is so sweet, thank u for the support and i'm so honored u'd want my advice.

first of all, im gonna say poetry is a very individual thing, and what works for one person doesn't work for others. also, if u'd like me to critique specific works, i could probably be more thorough and i am so happy to do so, but that's obviously entitely up to u.

that being said, here's some things i've learned.

1. don't write what you think people will like, write what works in ur brain. this doesn't mean it has to be smth u have directly experienced, but more so an emphasis on having smth that matters to u more than smth u think others will care abt. i've found that my poems that have received the most love are the ones i thought "this is so niche and specific, i have no idea if anyone will relate to this or like this at all." as cheesy as it sounds, being honest in whatever way that works for u rlly is best

2. this is actually a rule i believe i heard abt comedy, but i find it rings very true of poetry as well: combine the specific w the broad. there are certain points of humanity i think are shown pretty much across the board. finding the very exact and nitty gritty feelings and thoughts and expressing that is usually what makes a great poem. to give an example, all of us are lonely sometimes. what makes writing abt it interesting could be writing smth like feeling lonely when u go to the grocery store, wishing u had someone to grab something from the top shelf for u and hold ur hand in the dairy aisle.

3. this is more personal preference, but i like the opening and closing lines to kinda form a circle. i don't know how to explain this exactly, but i like it all kinda come back to this point, not necessarily in words but more so in theme. i especially like when something's changed, and the same idea now has new nuance. a good example of this from my works would be in the world is ending. i began with the sentiment "there's nothing i can do about it" and ended with "it will be enough" both involve a lack of control, but where it began with helplessness, it ended with acceptance.

4. experiment!! try so many cool things!!! change up spacing and structures! try new words and phrases! use repitition! use long lines, use short phrases! the best way to find your specific writing niche is through trial and error.

5. similarly, in terms of gaining skill in writing poetry, quantity over quality. the best way to write a poem u love is to write a hundred u think are garbage. eventually u learn what works for u, but more than that, practice really does make perfect. or at least better. i started off writing the cringiest, most angsty and awful poems u can imagine. since u already have been writing and posting, u've already started this. but don't let urself get so frustrated u stop writing. writing is so beautiful and healing and wonderful. if u love it, keep it in ur heart forever and don't let it go.

this has already been so long so i think im gonna stop there. i hope this was helpful, i am by no means an expert and i am sure none of this is new advice. i bet ur writing is rlly cool!! and regardless, we all have smth worth saying, and im proud of u for saying it.

be warm and well fed

[azalawa-scroggs]

Hi! So I was skimming through your asks and found this interesting take of yours about Phoenix (this post: https://www.tumblr.com/azalawa-scroggs/737318755002171392/take-about-ace-attorney?source=share) I don't actually disagree with it, but combining this to the ask you sent me some days ago about AA tackling the theme of corruption I am curious: would you consider Gregory Edgeworth a bad lawyer as well? Since he too puts too much emphasis on his client's innocence and the trust (well, as much as we've got to see him anyway). That's very resembling of Phoenix's mindset (maybe not, since it's been a while I played Inherited)

Also, again, this puts Ray Shields into an interesting contrast between Phoenix (the main hero who should do good things and defend good people for the drama to work) and Gregory. Ray chooses to defend guilty clients but ensure they will be tried fairly, which is more or less how a real life lawyer operates. This difference in the approach with Gregory is especially interesting since Gregory was his actual mentor

So I'm really curious how would you expand your opinion to the other two lawyers!

Hahaha thank you! I had completely forgotten that ask. To tell the truth, it was probably phrased that way because it was a "hot take" game - I don't know if I would say Phoenix is a very bad lawyer any more, although I certainly wouldn't put my fate into his hands, unless I was 100% innocent and I had no idea how the murder happened, which is... kind of an extremely specific thing to happen and it's really weird it happens so much to Phoenix!

A thing I forgot/didn't get to say in the ask is that one of the reasons I think Phoenix is a bad lawyer, on top of him only straight up refusing to defend guilty clients, is that he simply doesn't seem to know the law. I'm actually surprised I didn't mention it because that's... kind of the biggest thing - a lawyer needs to know the law, that's the basis of his job xD This is of course due to the gameplay - you can't expect every player ever to know the law, so you have to introduce the pieces of (fictional, on top of it) legislation somehow, so your POV lawyer comes across as not knowing the law. And still... can't say your own client handing you a textbook of Evidence Law For Dummies is an excellent look xD (this refers to 1-5, Lana Skye gives that to you before the last day of the trial).

He also not only refuses to take on guilty clients but... actually seems to have a moral stake in not taking guilty clients. I actually don't have a problem with a lawyer who refuses to take guilty clients, like, people do what they want. It's that the way Phoenix reacts to the possibility seems to imply that he doesn't know how to do anything but to plead not guilty (whether because he actually doesn't know the law, or because he's too invested in his clients' fate to accept anything but an acquittal; in both cases this isn't really great). However, this one is actually irritating, because the only reason we know this is how torn he was defending Matt Engarde - but the thing is that Matt Engarde was a blackmailing piece of shit who didn't give Phoenix any choice regarding legal strategy; it was "get me an acquittal no matter what you must do for it," which is obviously a terrible position to be stuck in. So it's impossible to say how he would actually react to this in normal circumstances, although imo he does put a bit too much emphasis on his clients' innocence as a general rule.

Anyway, to actually answer your question now! Spoilers for AAI2 ahead, specifically The Inherited Turnabout.

Regarding Gregory's legal philosophy; there's one line from Gregory which I think is a bit weird - "as long as you are innocent, we'll see to it that you receive a fair verdict" - which is weird to say; even if he's guilty he should receive a fair verdict, because a guilty verdict would be fair in that case. Honestly, I'm willing to put that more on the translation than anything else, but it's still there, so. Yeah. Definitely not a point on his favour. Another thing is that Gregory accepted to take Masters' case before talking to him and asking him whether he did it; which implies that Masters' innocence matters more to him in terms of legal strategy than in terms of his decision to defend him or not. So it's actually quite unclear what his philosophy regarding all this actually is.

Truth be told there just aren't enough elements to say if Gregory shares Phoenix's views imo. They both think that trusting in your client's innocence is a good thing and honestly I don't have issue with that; if your client tells you he's innocent, then trusting him when building your case is probably a good decision. For the rest, on one hand we never saw Gregory faced with the prospect of defending a guilty client the way we saw Phoenix, on the other hand the guilty client Phoenix was faced with defending was a blackmailing scumbag who didn't give him the choice of his legal strategy. So it's really hard to compare them on that front. Just because Phoenix is the hero of this franchise, and it'd be weird for the narrative to suddenly shift gears, I'm tempted to say Gregory probably shares Phoenix's views indeed, but that's really hard to tell with certainty. I'm also unsure how much he shares Phoenix's views. Phoenix has... a bit of a saviour complex that Gregory doesn't exhibit himself in that one single case. Besides, like you said, Raymond Shields, who's Greg's apprentice, seems not to care whether his clients are innocent or guilty before defending them, which makes me wonder how important this was to Gregory at all.

As to the knowledge of the law... we never see anyone hand Gregory a law book, which is a point in his favour but also not an absolutely airtight case xD There is also the fact that a lot of his legal strategy with Mr. Master seems to rely on procedure. This is, of course, also dictated by the plot; we know from previous canon that he was the one lawyer to call out Manfred von Karma on his use of forged evidence. He also teamed up with Badd in order to get evidence that Jeff Master's confession was obtained under duress. So that already demonstrates a better understanding of the law than Phoenix.

Honestly, this is all just tiny details, because we just don't know enough about Gregory for me to really pass a judgement. Going solely by what little we know, though, I have to say that, even though Gregory lost the only case we know he had while Phoenix won every single case save for one, I'd probably trust Gregory to handle my case more than Phoenix.

This ask is already WAY too long but regarding Ray: I actually think he's not a very good lawyer either. Yes, he takes on guilty clients; however if the way he handled Patricia Roland's case is any indication, I'm not super sure he's actually acting in their best interests. It's a bit of a thorny problem, because on one hand, yeah, Roland was guilty, it's just that someone took away the evidence, and Ray was fully aware of that. Morally pretending the evidence had never been there wouldn't have been honest. On the other hand he didn't just refuse to ignore evidence he knew was there and had been stolen; he actively helped everyone else stall for time so that she could be declared guilty - ethically this is nooot great either imo. You want your lawyer to be in your corner, to try to get you the best deal possible even if you're guilty. However this has to be contextualised too, because no one's actions in that moment is really really great xD Judge Courtney acting as if she had no knowledge of the evidence whatsoever and deciding to hand down a not-guilty verdict instead of adjourning the court until the evidence could be found wasn't great - but then there was blackmail involved which makes everything more difficult and delicate to handle - This is, once again, just one case and it's super difficult to generalise one character's stance or skills out of one case like that.

The reason for all of this is of course plot, because this is a mystery story this isn't actually a legal story. Tbh as fun as it is to try and analyse how well all those characters would fare in our legal world, I'm starting to feel a little out of my depth, because I'm once again not a lawyer, and it's actually SO hard to compare those characters when they're acting within a story such as Ace Attorney, where the principle is that the right culprits must be found and the guilty parties must be punished. It's super interesting to think about it! But I'm not sure how many conclusions we can actually draw xD

[cringecompanionapologist]

Okay WTF Happened at Brendon?

Just how much Turlough hated Brendon School is something of a running gag in both the show and eu media. It's usually part of a larger Turlough Hates Earth running gag, but that school seems to stand out. Of course he'd hate the planet he was exiled to, to some extant, especially the place he was exiled to, but I get a sense that returning to Brendon is somehow his Worst Nightmare, to the point that when he contacts Trion authorities to save the people of Sarn, expecting to be rearrested, he says that he doesn't care what happens to him as long as he isn't sent back to Brendon. This implies that he considers Brendon a potential fate worse than death.

It's always played as a joke, but it feels like Turlough's hatred of Brendon goes beyond his hatred of exile in general. I've been picking up on whatever hints are dropped as to why that might be.

Mawdryn Undead Novelization: Brendon School clearly sucks. The headmaster doesn't come across as particularly mean, but he's kind of an idiot who probably shouldn't be in charge of a school. I'm guessing this is a sort of satire of English public schools in general.

(Note how is priorities are 1. Sports 2. What I think is some kind of military thing 3. Academics)

So, the place generally sucks and probably isn't very good as a school in terms of actually educating children. Turlough is generally presented as non-athletic, not liking rugby or cricket (unless he's watching the Doctor play apparently), which probably put him on the bad side of the headmaster and the school as a whole.

Planet of Fire Novelization:

Both the serials and novelizations of Mawdryn Undead and Planet of Fire were written by the same person, so the portrayal of Brendon and Turlough's attitude towards it are consistent. When Turlough talks about Brendon being the worst place in the universe, we can actually see into his head a little:

So, more of what we get in Mawdryn Undead, really. Brendon sucks in a pretty mundane, stupid way. It makes sense that Turlough would hate the place, but not really fear it. Perhaps Turlough's hatred of Brendon wasn't supposed to come across as passionate as it did when multiple people wrote about it. Turlough is prone to melodrama, after all.

Enlightenment Novelization:

Enlightenment doesn't discuss Brendon in any detail, but I think some of Turlough's mindset is telling. There's a lot of emphasis on being bullied.

In this scene, Turlough is in an all-male environment with a shared sleeping quarters with bunks, a similar vibe to a boarding school. His initial fear of the sailors might come from seeing them as similar to potential bullies at school.

When making The Choice, Turlough is tempted by the potential wealth the diamond could bring making people not bully him.

So maybe it was about bullying. When we see Turlough at Brendon, we see him as the bully. He's a dick to Ibbotson AKA Hippo. But, a lot of bullies are bullied themselves. Ibbotson might be the only boy considered to be a bigger loser than him.

My headcanon from this would that Turlough, being not very strong, not an athlete, and also a literal space alien, so probably also a weirdo, was bullied at Brendon and it got bad. But the adults didn't do anything to stop it. They probably thought it would build character or that it was Turlough's own fault for not trying hard enough to fit in. So, he was left to fend for himself completely. While also being in a generally miserable environment. And an exile. Who fought in a war. And his mom died. He wasn't exactly okay to begin with.

This post will have a sequel discussing the references to Brendon in novels and short stories that I have screenshots of, since some writers felt the need to go into more detail about this stuff, but I'm not really sure if they should count or not.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

Also on AO3 || Next >

Chapter 1: October 2015

It was, quite frankly, probably the worst day Martin had had since getting moved to the Archives, which was saying something. His alarm hadn't gone off for some reason, so he'd had to rush out the door without eating in order to make his train on time; there'd been trouble on the Northern line that had caused him to miss his connection and have to wait for the next one, meaning he'd only just made it to work before he would be considered late; Tim had accidentally knocked over his tea and it had barely missed the stack of files Martin was trying to research (he just knew that would have been his fault somehow); he'd been hung up on three times trying to verify statements; and when he'd tried to call his mother to wish her a happy birthday, the nurse on duty had been the bossy one who'd never liked him anyway and had told him, condescendingly and specifically and with a spiteful emphasis on the last word, that Miss Liliana doesn't want any calls from you. He was stressed, he was tired, he was strung out. He was on his fifth cup of tea and hadn't brought one to Jon all day, he'd forgotten to pack a lunch and didn't have the money to buy until payday, and at this point he was just counting the hours until he could leave, something he hadn't done in months—not that being home would be any better, just that he could at least bury his face in his pillow and scream his frustration out.

He was the last one back from his lunch break, clutching his cup in both hands. Tim and Sasha were hard at work, Tim frowning and Sasha intent, but she was the one to look up and wave at his desk when she saw him. “We got a statement that mentions a Leitner. Jon wants you to check it against whatever catalogs you can come up with so we can figure out how his edition is different than the original. Says it's top priority.“

Martin made a noise of what he hoped came across as acknowledgment and agreement and sat down at his desk, opening the laptop and reaching for the sticky note with Jon's familiar loopy handwriting on it. He glanced at it, and his day went from lousy to full-on shit when he saw the words Ex Altiora.

“Oh, bloody hell,“ he muttered under his breath.

Tim looked up briefly from his computer. “You know the book?“

“Never read it, but I've heard of it.“ Martin began calling up all the catalogs he could think of, but he knew it was going to be hopeless. They'd never known much about Ex Altiora, but they'd all known it was never mass-produced; there had only ever been one copy, and that much sought-after. The old bag had been furious when…

He terminated that thought quickly. His last encounter with…her…hadn't been pleasant and wasn't one he wanted to relive. Not today. Not at work, anyway.

“How many Leitners are there, anyway?“ Tim asked, sitting back and stretching. “I mean, how many books did he have in that library of his?“

“Nine hundred seventy-eight,“ Martin said automatically. “According to rumor, anyway. Not like he ever let people have access to his collection.“

Tim let out a long, low whistle. Sasha cocked her head at him. “How do you know that?“

“I did my master's thesis on Leitners.“ It was a lie. An old lie, one Martin had trotted out rather a lot in the last eleven years. It had always served him well, but just then, he wished he hadn't said it. Tim knew he didn't have a degree, and he was sure to press Martin about it later.

Fleetingly, Martin gave a thought to cluing Tim in on what was really going on. What was out there. At some point he would need to tell them anyway; they were going to get too close, sooner rather than later, and it was better that they be prepared. Elias hadn't seen fit to tell them, apparently, if Jon's skeptic act was anything to go by (he had to be faking it, nobody could work for the Magnus Institute and disbelieve that hard), but surely he wouldn't have assigned Martin down here if he didn't want them to know. That Elias might not know had never once crossed his mind. It was definitely possible to work for the Magnus Institute without some idea of what it was about, witness the other three people in the Archives, but no way would he be able to head it up if he didn't.

At the moment, however, he put his head down and kept working.

“Martin.“ Jon's voice jerked Martin out of his work haze. He looked up to find Jon scowling at him…or at least in his direction. For once, Martin didn't actually think it was directed at him. Yet. “Have you been able to find anything on Ex Altiora in the catalogs?“

“No, sorry. I don't—it was a pretty rare book,“ Martin hedged. “I mean, there was only one copy.“

Jon's scowl deepened. Now it was for Martin. “Just because it hasn't turned up on any lists so far doesn't mean it isn't on any of them. You're going to have to try harder than that. We can't just give up because it isn't easy.“

Normally, Martin would have apologized, stammered out an excuse, something, but he was tired and overwhelmed and stressed all to hell and gone, and it all combined to make him snap back at Jon in a way he normally only did with people he trusted implicitly not to punish him for it, or didn’t care what they thought of him. “I'm not giving up. It's not just that it won't be on any of those catalogs because it was unique, it's because it wasn't any kind of history or instruction book. It was just a story, somewhere between an epic poem and a fairy tale, about a monster threatening a village that turns out to be bigger than they think every time they start preparing until they throw themselves off a cliff to escape it. The people who understood what it was and what it meant had a vested interest in other people not knowing, so naturally they'd be keen to keep it off of any publicly-available lists, and since there was only ever one copy of the original because nobody ever survived owning it long enough to duplicate it, there aren't going to be other editions out there. Jurgen Leitner's library wasn't all special editions of books expurgated for the general public, you know.“

He stopped, partly because he was out of breath and partly because his brain had just caught up with his tongue and was trying to throttle it. Jon looked rather like Martin had slapped him, and behind him, Sasha and Tim were both gaping at him like he'd just stripped naked and sung a lounge song. His cheeks burned, probably a bright red, but he pressed his lips together tightly to keep himself from apologizing. He hadn't actually said anything he needed to be sorry for.

Finally, Tim reached up and manually shut his jaw, then spoke up in a voice that was almost his usual jovial tones, which told Martin that was as much an act as his own usual soft-spoken awkwardness. “Martin's thesis was on Leitner's library, remember, boss? I think he knows what he's talking about.“

“I—yes, that's right, I'd forgotten.“ Jon sounded slightly off-balance and…almost subdued. “I—I apologize for doubting you. Undoubtedly you're correct about this.“

Was it Martin's imagination, or did he put slight emphasis on the word this? He decided not to mention it. “It's all right,“ he said, and he wasn't sure if it was true or not.

Slowly, he felt himself calming, at least a little. His computer beeped softly at him, telling him he needed to plug it in, and he twisted around to get at the cord. As he did so, Jon turned to Tim. “Have you had any luck in tracking down Gerard Keay?“

Martin fell off his chair.

[cuchufletapl]

Personally I just rely on the tags and summary — that's usually enough to see at least if I vibe with the prose and the author knows what punctuation is.

And also. I don't really care about the stats in general, but also to be frank I don't think they're a particularly efficient measure for quality?

If you're going by highest number of kudos, bookmarks or comments, then it will skew in favour of older fics or fics that were posted at a height of fandom activity (simply because more people have read them) and long multichapter fics (because they periodically appear at the top of the feed, so more people come across them and they don't get buried like a one-shot might). A massive amount of readers logically leads to a large amount of kudos — it doesn't mean that the fic is bad, but it does mean its numbers are more due to exposure than quality. (It can be both but. Y'know. Sometimes popularity doesn't mean shit and sometimes it does. It's a bit of a toss-up, really.)

But most people who use stats as a guide figure that out so. Okay. What about what you suggest, OP, a kudos-hits ratio? That makes sense, right? For example, if a hundred people have read a fic and fifty liked it enough that they hit kudos, that seems to be a pretty good indicator that it's gonna be good. It's solid logic, I used to use it as a bit of an indicator of what to expect, too.

Except that's not how hits work.

From Archive of Our Own's Statistics FAQ page (emphasis added by me):

Hits are a counter of how many times a work has been accessed. A hit is registered every time a visitor navigates to a work's page, with the following exceptions:

• If two visits in a row come from the same IP address, only the first one is registered.

• Moving between chapters in a work will only register one hit in total, not one hit per chapter.

• If you're logged in, hits are not counted when you visit your own works.

A kudos-hits ratio is biased towards one-shots and fics with a lower chapter count, because hits ≠ readers.

Hits = visits, even if it's the same user returning to reread or read a new update (as long as it's not twice in a row).

But wait, there's more!

Admittedly, I'm not sure if this is true or just a rumour because I haven't seen anything alluding to this on AO3's info pages or even Fanlore, but looking at my own AO3 history, I think it tracks. Take it with a pinch of salt anyway, but it seems that for every 24 hours that you leave a tab with a fic open, it will also count as a hit.

So for example. There's this ongoing fic that I'm subscribed to — I have been since I first found it when it had nine chapters or so, and every time it updates I rush to go read it. The fic currently sits at 32 chapters.

Wanna take a guess how many times I've visited this particular work, according to my AO3 history?

Image Description: Text from a history entry on Archive of Our Own. It says: "Last visited: 30 Mar 2024 (Latest version.) Visited 99 times."

One single person equals ninety-nine hits in this case. And since I can only leave kudos once, if I were the only person reading it, that would mean this fic would have a 1:99 kudos-hits ratio. Which. Applying the misconception of hits = readers, does not sound great. It's way above the 1:10 ratio OP uses, at least.

I think a few dozen hits there must've been from leaving the tab open, but I know that I've returned to this fic over thirty times — not only for updates, but to reread chapters that I particularly liked. Clearly, this would signal that I think this fic is good (and it is, in my opinion)!

So when you use stats as the deciding factor on whether you read a fic or not, you're going to miss out on some hidden jewels out there. If you use the filters to sort by kudos, you'll probably miss out on one-shots and short fics that have been newly posted or were posted during a lull in fandom activity. If you take note of the kudos-hits ratio, you'll probably miss out on multichapter longfics whose regular readers have accessed it over a hundred times each.

Honestly, I think the best method to find quality fanfic is to check the bookmarks of the authors you like and follow the trail.

Another AO3 thing I’m curious about, how do yall decide if something is good enough to read? Usually I follow a rule of 1 kudos for every 10 hits. One because it’s easy math and two it’s yet to fail me. Thoughts? Do you just go for it and pray it’s good?

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 8th June

Only one song for us this week, but it's Eddie Cochran, who I do like, and it did get to Number 1, so I'm tentatively optimistic?

Three Steps to Heaven - Eddie Cochran (peaked at Number 1)

Okay, immediately I do like the guitar riff on this one. It's not complex, and it doesn't really change through the song, just three repeated notes, with a really heavy emphasis on the two final strums. It's effective because of this simplicity, giving the song a really cool sense of energy, driving it on into the chorus and giving the whole song a bit of oomph just as the song's tempted to slow down. Combine with with some backing vocalists making wah-wah sounds, and you've got yourself a pretty memorable sound.

The riff's probably the best part, actually. It's not that the lyrics are bad, but they're... well, they're not the most useful advice. They lay out, in a very simplified, a three-step plan for achieving heavenly bliss: Step one, you find a girl you love / Step two, she falls in love with you / Step three, you kiss and hold her tightly / Yeah, that sure sounds like heaven to me. Which is great. Real useful advice there, Eddie. Step one, find The One. Step two, fall in love. Step three, kiss, I guess. Why didn't I think of doing that?

If the song were more saccharine and cutesy, I think I'd find the lyrics actively annoying. But I don't, quite. Partly I think it's just because the rest of the song sound great, musically - I can get behind some flimsy lyrics, as long as they're well-packaged, generally. And partly it's because of a few small moments where Eddie does seem to recognise that falling in love isn't really as simple as all that. Indeed, he frames the whole thing as advice to following specifically as life travels on / And things do go wrong. Which is a nice little concession, and lets Eddie's three-step plan come off less patronising and more like a call to just get back to the heart of why you fell in love in the first place. Which is kind of romantic, when you look at it that way.

In all this, you've got a song that's less obviously "teenaged" than some of Eddie's other hits, which is kind of nice to see - Eddie was 21 years old at the time of recording, so was presumably trying to shed some of his "teen idol" image in favour of something a bit more age-appropriate for a man in his 20s - a welcome change! Unfortunately, we aren't going to see any more of it, since Eddie was dead at this point, killed in a road accident while touring the UK, with Three Steps To Heaven as his final posthumous hit.

There's an irony, along with the tragedy of this all, as Eddie was by all accounts very perturbed at this point by Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens' deaths a year earlier - he had been friends with both men, and had apparently since their deaths developed a conviction that he, too, would die young. He was actively trying to scale back on his travelling and touring to avoid this, but was convinced by his manager to take the four-month UK tour on financial grounds. It was apparently a huge success, and the list of British artists who were either involved as supporting and backing acts, or went to see Eddie is not insignificant. But while taking a taxi near Bath, Eddie got into a fatal accident - Gene Vincent and Eddie's fiancée were both also injured, but it was Eddie who was killed, fulfilling his prediction in a grim kind of way.

It's a tragic story, and honestly, I think beyond it just being sad for the usual, obvious reasons, it's also a shame that we didn't get to see what else Eddie might have gone on to do - he's on top form, here, bringing life and excitement to lyrics that in anyone else's hands might have come across kind of lame and/or patronising. And it bears repeating that that riff really is a killer. David Bowie steals it for Queen Bitch, a decade later, and I can see why. What a banger.

Favourite song of the clearly ordered bunch: Three Steps to Heaven

[cdcore]

GETTING INTO MUSIC VOL. 1 -- Rap

Hey, internet! Initially, I was planning on making this a video project --- something I will likely still do in the future --- but I wanted to get some content out in the meantime! I think many of us have been faced with the age-old "what type of music are you into?" question. So many times when I ask people about their music opinions I hear the same answer. every. single. time. "I like a little bit of everything, except rap and country!" This is always really frustrating for two reasons! First, now I have no idea what you're actually into and enjoy music-wise.

Second, I think anyone who is a fan of either of those genres immediately feels bad hearing someone dismiss an entire genre in front of them, especially when they each have large enough artists and subgenres that the person could probably find music they liked within either genre if they took the time to dig. I think a lot of us (myself included) tend to start off enjoying music pretty passively --- maybe we only listened to whatever our friends' played, or that one Michael Bublé CD mom had that she would endlessly play on repeat.

For a large portion of people, I think music exists more as background noise than anything, hence people not really having a solid answer when prompted with the "what music do you like?" question. That takes us to our topic today: actively discovering and enjoying new music! As an avid rap fan for the past few years, I wanted to start this series off with rap.

I'm hoping to deconstruct the genre as a whole, list the characteristics commonly seen in online discussions and Billboard Top 100 lists as ideal rap ability, and hopefully drop some helpful recommendations along the way! 1) WRITING If rap really is just a guy spitting poetry, I would argue this is the most important part of his music. I am heavily biased given my background as a former English major, but something that really draws me to rap personally is that deeper emphasis on writing compared to some other genres given lyrics are the primary focus. We're going to focus on two umbrellas for rap writing: the thematic content --- or message of the piece --- and the syntax, basically how words are rearranged in the sentences themselves. The absolutely beautiful thing about rap is it can be as profound and nuanced as you want it to be. By its nature, rap has routinely been a discussion point in social and political culture for basically as long as it has existed. Its roots in Black culture and the often anti-establishment way it grapples with poverty, crime and racial injustices cause ire often, especially among conservative outlets, which see the genre as supporting crime. For writers like Kendrick Lamar, Nas and many others, the goal is to paint vivid pictures of the intersection of race and poverty across cities within the United States, showing how those structures lead to the routine gang, drug and crime culture cities face.

They argue that American courts, law enforcement and government structure are built on institutions that profit from racial discrimination and unjust punishment, leading many into poverty and therefore crime to make ends meet. Lamar himself won a Pulitzer for his album "DAMN." while in it sampling FOX's own coverage of him and their beliefs that rap has culturally harmed African Americans more than "racism in recent years." Rappers routinely satirize this depiction of them as violent criminals to poke at how media and the nation seem unable to attack the real root of the intercity conflict: poverty. With all that being said, your enjoyment of rap doesn't have to be that deep either!

For every nuanced, thematically dense rap album out there is an equal amount of silly, weird esoteric songs that are just meant to be listened to for fun. Artist Tyler, the Creator has a song about waiting to pick someone up and being frustrated with how long they're taking (It's titled, "Come on, Let's go if curious).

Rapper Aesop Rock has a song about how cool his cat is ("Kirby") and what it's like to be a kid who doesn't want to eat his green beans ("Grace"). There are millions upon millions of dance-instruction songs, and a limitless supply of songs and freestyles just flexing how rich, successful and famous rappers are. It's part of what makes the genre so diverse and nuanced --- rappers can make plenty of layered introspection on culture and religion when they want, and still have dumb, fun songs flexing their vehicles too. If you're looking for some larger commentary, some classic albums are: To Pimp a Butterfly, Illmatic, 4.44, among others.

More recently, J.I.D.'s The Forever Story serves as an impressive look into his life, family loyalties and career changes. Some other recent albums with good messages are GHETTOLAND, All-Amerikkkan Bada$$ and GHETTO GODS. If you're wanting weirder albums that focus on less common topics in rap, Aesop Rock's more recent albums come to mind immediately. For more of your hype-inducing songs focused on flexing wealth and success, Her Loss is a pretty solid contender for this, Lil Wayne's The Carter III does this very well, and for a more indie pick I might go with Solar Flare by Kill Bill: the Rapper and Rav. Now, allow me to be your AP Language teacher again and talk about the technical aspect of writing: literary devices. Any Scholastic Book Fair kid knows that writing comes in a variety of shapes and sizes. One of the most fun parts of rap is how clever the wordplay can be at times. It's very common for double and triple entendre to exist, lines that simultaneously show off multiple meanings at once. Homophones, or phrases that sound similar are often used to employ these more complex meanings. Jay-Z was particularly famous for this with lines like: "I'm not a business man/I'm a business, man/let me handle my business, damn." When listening it can sound like he's just repeating business man twice with more emphasis on the second. In reality, he's conveying through that homophone that he is not a scrappy capitalist, but rather has made such wild success for himself financially that he as a brand and cultural identity creates wealth like that of a full business (allowing him the credibility to handle his own business as he asks for later in the line). Beyond clever double meanings in lines, rappers find insane ways to hold multiple simultaneous internal and external rhymes across multiple verses. Rappers like MF DOOM and Eminem come to mind for their complex, multi-syllabic rhyme schemes.

To see what I'm talking about, check out this video:

On a raw vocabulary level, the aforementioned Aesop Rock is known for having one of the most complex, diverse vocabularies of any rapper. He and rapper Lupe Fiasco are known for their word choice and metaphor stacking, with earlier Aesop Rock works almost being cryptic with just how buried they are in complex figurative language. There's also a simple beauty in rappers delivering messages directly as is. Tupac was known for prioritizing his message over everything else, speaking directly to the listener --- this is something Jimmy more recently has done on that GHETTOLAND record I mentioned. If you’re looking for funny, sometimes dumb bars, my mind immediately goes to people like 21 Savage and Kanye --- if you still feel morally comfortable listening to him given all that he's done. For more of that traditional homophone-heavy, double-entendre work check out: Nicki Minaj, Lil' Wayne, Eminem and Jay-Z. Your lyrically conscious rappers are going to be Kendrick, J. Cole among others, and more esoteric wordplay comes from Lupe Fiasco, MF DOOM, Black Thought and Aesop Rock. 2) SOUND I am infinitely less qualified to talk about instrumentation, music theory and vocal delivery as someone with minimal background in playing and learning music. As a result, I'm going to make this section as brief as I can, though there is a few key points I think need to be hit. A big part of rappers is how they deliver their lyrics vocally --- this can be everything from the rhythm they're rapping (usually called flow), their actual pitch if there's singing involved etc. Issues of annunciation separate rappers from the derogative "mumble rap" category, and a lot of this I think comes down to personal preference more than anything. I think it is worth noting that rapper Eminem is known to be excellent in the actual technicals of delivering rap. He's able to control his breathing well which allows him to rap longer, he can rap incredibly fast and with multiple rhythms seamlessly. Artists like Smino and JID have stood out recently as well for just how often their vocals are varied in pitch, rhythm and more. For a final footnote, production is the instrumentation behind rap. Rap has a long history of sampling, or taking existing sounds or portions of music and reincorporating them into a new track. With some artists, this can be done to further drive their theme which can work very poignantly! As someone with little production and music theory knowledge, unfortunately, all I can do is recommend the classic greats of making interesting, catchy beats. The Alchemist, Kanye West, Madlib, Pharell and J-Dilla all stick out. So does Nujabes. There are a lot of really interesting experimental production artists in Injury Reserve, JPEGMAFIA, and Danny Brown if you just wanna hear new crazy sounds also!

That concludes my first look at the genre of rap, and I hope it inspires you to check out one of the many artists I mentioned here. What artists should I have included? Are there any aspects of rapping I missed? Feel free to reply with anything you think I should've expanded on. Thank you and have a wonderful day!

[greencrocs]

Why did Mike Act like That this Season?

“That’s because she’s my girlfriend, Will.” "And us?" "We're friends! We're friends." "We used to be best friends."

Recently I've been thinking about this exchange. Both the words themselves and the delivery of the words are so intentional. Keep in mind that these words survived numerous rounds of editing. As merely a novice writer myself I can attest to the meticulous attention paid to nearly every line of dialogue in my work. Any writer, whether for the screen or for the stage or for the page, would agree that dialogue is probably the best aspect of fiction to inject subtext into. The Stranger Things writers most certainly agree, and I believe they've done just that here.

The writing is not the only thing of note about this exchange. Observe Finn and Noah's delivery:

The intonation on specific words turns the exchange into something more like this:

“That’s because she’s my girlfriend, Will.” "And us?" "We're friends! We're friends." "We used to be best friends."

The words, coupled with the delivery, raise so many questions for me. Why the emphasis on "We're friends"? Why the emphasis on best friends? Most subtly, however:

1. Will, Why Did You Say That?

Why does Will ask Mike about the nature of their relationship, especially after Mike points out that El is his girlfriend?

Several people have commented on how Will comes across as almost flirty when he says to Mike, "Not possible." at the end of season three.

While I disagree with the sentiment, I certainly see how it appears to be flirty. Personally I think it's how earnest Will comes across. I read the scene as Will and Mike's reconciliation after their fight in the summer. Mike extends the olive branch loaded with subtext, "What if you want to join another party?", which really means I know I was horrible to you when all you wanted to do was play D&D in the summer, have I ruined things irreparably between us? and Will graciously accepts this olive branch with a palm likewise caked in subtext, "Not possible." which really means I don't want to ever lose you, we're okay now. Essentially, in this scene Mike and Will shake hands and agree Let's be best friends again. After all, D&D is primarily a symbol of The Party's friendship before it's a symbol of anything else.

Speaking of the end of season three, it's important to take note of where the characters were emotionally at the end of the last season when analysing their behaviour when they are introduced this season. In fiction, the first introduction to a character is critical for relaying vital information to the audience/reader about who the character is.

At the end of season three, Max was grieving Billy's death. It makes sense that in her introduction in season four, she is emotionally distant from Lucas and the rest of the party as it is later revealed that she is coping negatively with his death. Her emotional state at the beginning of this season is the natural progression of her emotional state at the end of the last season.

In Will's first introduction in season four, El claims he has been acting 'weird' and assumes he has a crush on a girl, for whom he has been making a painting.

Something important I would like to point out is that El is... not the most perceptive about how her family truly feels. She accepts Joyce's claim that she loves the 'freedom' her job offers her, but Joyce's actions in the montage prove otherwise, that she is frustrated by the individuals she has to deal with on the job.

She assumes Jonathan has been acting weird because he's hoping for an acceptance letter from Emerson, when he's really just been high out of his mind.

It's clear then that El's words in her letter to Mike are not to be trusted. Joyce doesn't really love her job, Jonathan isn't really nervous about being accepted into Emerson and, of course, Will isn't crushing on a girl. But does Mike realize this?

2. Mike, Why Did You Say That?

Why does Mike repeat himself, emphasizing his words on the second utterance? Had he simply said We're friends once, his dialogue would have had a completely different meaning. It would have come across as exasperated, like the first line, as in Come on, Will, seriously? even if he had said it with the exact intonation he did the first time. But then he goes ahead and says it again, this time with emphasis on the fact that they're friends. Who is he trying to convince? Will? Or, perhaps, himself?

When he greets Will at the airport, Mike is not acting the way he logically should considering his and Will's last moment together at the end of season three. In that scene, he's smiling fondly at Will and looking up at him through his eyelashes. In the reunion scene, he's dodging Will's hug to awkwardly bro-tap him on the back.

What happened between Mike-smiling-fondly-through-his-eyelashes-at-Will and Mike-giving-Will-the-no-homo-back-slap to cause this huge change? Two things, mainly: The Byers moving away, and El's letter.

The focus on Mike shows that Hopper's words apply doubly to him. The words match Mike's words to Will this season, when he says, "I feel like maybe I was worrying too much about El... and, I don't know, maybe I feel like I lost you." Ironically, Mike feels like Will has been pulling away from him while he's the one who has been pulling away from Will. As Will says in season four, Mike barely called in the one hundred and eighty-five days they were apart, and he didn't send Will a single letter.

Afterwards, Hopper's words once again reflect Mike's inner turmoil. He wants to stop the change between him and Will, to make things go back to how they were, likely before he discovered his feelings for Will. This is the thought process that drives Mike's actions toward Will at the beginning of season four.

El's letter influenced another change in Mike. Mike tries to be nonchalant as he asks the question, but you can clearly see that he's not nearly as carefree about the painting as he wants to come off. Many people have theorized that Mike believes the painting is for a girl Will likes, as El told him in her letter. I completely agree. I think this is another factor for why Mike acts the way he does in this scene. He believes his feelings for Will are not returned, so he pours more of himself into playing the role of a doting boyfriend with El.

We've spoken a lot about Mike projecting his feelings for Will onto El for years in this corner of the fandom, without much solid evidence, but I think this moment is the prime example of this. There is a focus on Mike's apprehension about the painting, after hearing from El that it's for a girl. There is a focus on Mike's over-the-top displays of affection: the flowers which he most certainly did not hand-pick, his claim that he wants 'today to be all about us'. Mike's affection toward El comes across as a literal performance. Argyle hints at this when he makes the meta comment, "It's just a cheap knock-off", that is to say: Mike's doting boyfriend act is just that — an act, a phony, a cheap knock-off.

3. What Happened to You? You Used to be Best Friends.

As established, at the end of season three Will believes he and Mike have fully reconciled and are best friends again. Despite Mike barely speaking to him since he moved away, he's still ecstatic to see his best friend again at the airport.

So he's immensely disappointed when Mike brushes him off only to lavish El with attention.

Will doesn't expect Mike to like him back, but he absolutely does not expect him to completely ignore his existence after they seemingly reconciled and were back to being best friends again before he moved. So when they have their argument at Rink-o-Mania and Will has an avenue to bring up what's been bothering him, he does exactly that.

Will doesn't have the near-omniscient view the audience does; he doesn't have a clue about Mike's own inner turmoil, so he doesn't understand what changed between October and March for Mike to start treating him this way. So when Mike says that El has so many letters from him because she's his girlfriend, Will logically has to wonder And what about us? I thought we were best friends again.

I think most people understand that Mike's behaviour in the reunion scene was incredibly bizarre. What I want to point out is how this was not bad writing, as Tiktok fiends have been insisting, but the natural progression of Mike's arc from where we left him at the end of season three. In episode five, with El out of the picture, Mike is suddenly sweet and vulnerable with Will again, proposing that they become a team, best friends, to face off against the incoming danger together.

Mike and Will are at completely different points on their journeys to accepting their sexualities. Whereas Will has likely accepted how he feels and is simply scared to lose people because of it, Mike is still clinging to his relationship with El, still stuck in denial. Although, from the looks of things, I think he'll be moving past that stage and towards acceptance come Volume Two next Friday.