#this is why some of us do rereads

[epickiya722]

Did anyone else catch this?! Or just remember this?

So I'm rereading some parts of the manga (because I have posts I should be working on) and I noticed that the very first chapter cover page actually foreshadows something that happens well over 200 chapters later and now I'm going to be extra cautious of what Gege does.

Look at this and tell me what you see.

The background is Sukuna's mummified corpse that Kenjaku doesn't find until chapter 220.

And it doesn't stop there.

Megumi's frogs don't have markings on their heads from what I can tell.

So tell me why upon closer inspection, that the frogs in the cover page has one that looks, well, dead on the inside/possessed and the other has similar markings Sukuna has on its head?

Y'all... Gege been warn us where this story was gonna go. Been warn us that our boy Megumi is gonna get possessed by Sukuna and ain't gonna have a good time. Been warn us BEFORE the story even starts!!

[soosoosoup]

rewatched treasure planet

[peacockrulz]

Sorry for the lack of posts, have some more headcanons!!

[randomminty]

Yeahlow

[itsdefinitely]

do girl jeri and boy jerry exist explicitly to torment me

[wundrousarts]

Going to do a Nevermoor series reread in June + July + August ? if anyone else also wants to do a reread around that time, could be fun to have more of the fandom prepping for Silverborn

Did initially make a roadmap plan to split the books up into weeks on top of already being months, so that people could focus on specific parts and discuss each week….. but between the fact that I messed it up the first time, Silverborn kept getting delayed as I planned it, and I’m actually really bad at keeping to stuff like that (looking at you, Silverborn Countdown Challenge…) I’m deciding to just go for it at whatever pace happens.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

behold: my second least favorite string of words in the entirety of Tears of the Kingdom.

(it's a little less transparent why this time so I'll explain my thoughts under the cut)

So why do I not like this?

In so many words: because if you remove it, the scene still works, but you lose the moral certainty of what is going on.

This single sentence does so much legwork for the entire game (the kind I dislike), to the point where I'm about 60% sure it's the product of a rework that realized how ambiguous Rauru's position was as the Good Rightful King and needed to nervously reassure the players that Ganondorf Is and Always Was the Invader, Actually.

(no matter that it leaves the gerudos in this awkward in-between state of both invaders and victims, while never dwelling in the specifics of their history and their own agency in the entire thing; brushed off as a sin they have to expiate through loyalty to the winners of that particular strife, but without explicitely blaming them either to avoid the implications of what that would have looked like)

If you remove it, not only do you lose a pretty clunky line that detracts from Ganondorf's intimidating presence (who is he even speaking to? who needs to hear this right now?) that honestly speaks for itself when it comes to his experience with warfare, but also you lose any tension and any mystery regarding why he is attacking in the first place.

You also... kind of rob Ganondorf's motivations of their meaning. "Hyrule will bow down before me" leads to asking... why? What does he want? What does he see in those lands? And what little we get with Rauru and then Link during the final fight begs more questions; why do you prefer hardship to peace? Why do you value strength? What leads you to want to rule a land devoid of survivors, become a king without a kingdom? I don't think we ever get satisfactory answers. If you remove this sentence, on the other hand... Subtextually, it becomes pretty clear that his motivations is that he felt threatened by Rauru's power, which is ripe with subtext and questions about whether this is a legitimate reaction, whether his "no survivor" stance is due to a feeling of betrayal when his own people turned against him post the Demon King shenanigans... I'm not saying it would fix the entire game's writing, far from it, but it would already do *so much more*.

(genuinely, I think he could have stayed completely silent during the Molduga Assault, speaking only in the Show of Fealty before going completely nuts after Sonia's murder, and it would have worked MUCH better in terms of characterization but anyway anyway

EDIT: ALSO!!! that way he wouldn't speak hylian to fellow gerudos, which is weird inherently)

Without this line, the core of the tension between the gerudos and Hyrule comes front in his conversation with Rauru; it allows the cause of his hostility to be Rauru's invitations, that he would have taken as a threat, and would have still made him warlike and domineering without making him cartoonishly flat, because, once again, Rauru is not acting in a particularly more legitimate way when Zelda arrives in Ancient Hyrule; and it would have been... fair to point that out. And make for better characterization for Rauru, and Sonia, and Mineru, and everybody. But the priority was for Hyrule to be pictured as unquestionably holy; always legitimate, always truthful, always beautiful, always just.

Also, and this is more of a nitpick but: why would Ganondorf want Hyrule, specifically, to bow down before him also? Was he at war with the rest of the disparate tribes before, and just carried on his ambitions to the very very newly-founded kingdom as they allied under a new banner? (though it seems to be implies the lands were crawling under monsters in a generic sense, and not Ganondorf's attacks in particular) Why would he even consider Hyrule a legitimate entity worth taking over then, if it is so new, born from the will of a powerful rival, founded by what is basically a stranger to these lands? Why would he covet something so young instead of destroying it and just calling the lands Gerudo Lands II or Grooseland or something?

I don't think any of that was even accounted for, because, beyond everything else: to me, this sentence is so clearly and painfully crammed in here to shield Hyrule from any potential blame and immediately characterize Ganondorf as Bad without having to remove any of the causes that could lead one to side-eye Rauru's little pet project as equally questionable.

Beyond the clumsiness, it is cowardly --and, I think, a little damning.

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[brightwoods]

Does anyone else feel like almost all of the conflicts that had to do with the various character dynamics in Chain of Thorns didn’t actually get resolved, they just unexplainably ceased to exist after two books of building them up because CC didn’t feel like writing them anymore and she didn’t know how to resolve it naturally after how she’d built the issues up so much?

Like how none of the characters but Cordelia and Thomas had any clue about the Alastair and Charles situation and then suddenly in CoT it was like who doesn’t know? Of course Matthew knew and didn’t say anything before and then randomly brought it up to Cordelia in Paris while assuming she knew too

Or how Alastair and Thomas went from how things were at the end of CoI with Alastair thinking it could never work because Thomas’s friends hate him to oh look everyone suddenly is friends with Alastair with no grudge with no development of that in this book at all, just an abrupt shift

Especially the Alastair and Matthew dynamic where Matthew hated Alastair and wanted him to have nothing to do with any of their friends and he spent CoI ranting about him to Cordelia. And then suddenly in CoT it’s like of course Matthew is supportive of Thomas and Alastair and oh look Matthew and Alastair are suddenly not just tolerating each other for Thomas’s sake but friends despite barely interacting and no development actually showing and never getting any mention of the other in their own POVs, just having Cordelia be like Alastair stop being dumb, you’re literally friends with him now

Or like everyone other than Christopher and Grace where it was like oh we don’t like her for how she’s treated us and her friends straight to anyway she’s one of us. Like yes Grace was useful and yes Tatiana manipulated her whole life, but none of that was why anyone changed their minds or opinions? It was just suddenly the flip of a switch when it was convenient for CC

Or Anna and Ariadne where it didn’t so much develop as Anna just acted mean to Ariadne on and off throughout the series and at the end of CoI she wanted nothing to do with a relationship and then in CoT she was just suddenly like sure I guess I do. Also, slightly different note, but I did not like that Anna barely interacted with anyone else for the entire book and she was just off in the corner being an irrelevant romantic subplot for almost all of the book except when she showed up to barely even be shown in the background being sad about her brother being dead

(Although Anna still got more of a reaction than everyone else and his death was poorly executed all around in the sense of how did you write this so predictably and poorly that no one even knows when he died and it’s so background and 99% of the characters don’t care at all and we don’t see his parents finding out or much of Thomas’s reaction or anything and it’s just as if he wasn’t a character anymore 2 seconds later which is a different genre of issue with CoT but similar problem in the sense that both issues made the book feel a lot more emotionless to read)

And how the issues of Thomas and Alastair being together as two men and Anna and Ariadne being together as two women in this time and the issues of what would happen if the fact that Charles and Alastair were gay got out to the entire Clave just disappeared and never got addressed at all. We know how the ClVe reacted to Alec Lightwood YEARS later. We know society was homophobic at the time TLH is set and that it seems like shadowhunter society was a lot less open-minded than mundanes a century later

I understand that Charles being blackmailed and making shitty decisions was annoying but it was like suddenly everyone finding out wouldn’t have consequences and all the other queer men characters were like how could you possibly be worried about this :/ as if they haven’t spent the whole series knowing they have to be careful about who they tell. And then suddenly it was just of course it’s totally fine and safe to have everyone find out and why wouldn’t you be fine with that. And it was really written in a way that had other queer characters like oh Charles is such a coward for not being ready to publicly tell a bunch of homophobic people his sexuality and it just wasn’t it??? And super weird after Thomas was terrified of telling even Anna and Matthew for years. And also, I did not care for the fact that when Charles did go risk getting outed to finally do the right thing, we didn’t even get to see it through any character’s perspective or how that important meeting went, we just got one line of dialogue from somebody else saying that it happened with no details at all. And I can’t think of other examples right now but there were quite a few moments like that where we got one line saying that something had happened that was important to the plot and to characters’ development that seemed like it would have been more interesting than some of what we did get to see where it was just totally breezed over and way too easy and totally background to less important stuff

And then there was the whole no one reacting to Ariadne and Anna dancing together publicly thing was like yeah that’s nice I guess but not realistic and it doesn’t go with the way things have been presented up to that point, it also just feels like a situation where CC was like well this would be easier for me so there just won’t be consequences and then they can easily end up happily together

And then there was the whole Thomas and Alastair thinking they couldn’t realistically be together thing and knowing they couldn’t get married or be known to be together by anyone they’re not close to and then at the end it’s still not really addressed how they’re going to be together? Like there was the laziest write off of the family tree being wrong and then we still are just left to assume that eventually they move in together and suddenly it’s not a problem and everyone’s fine with it? And then I also feel like we don’t actually know if everyone found out about Alastair and Charles’ sexualities after the blackmail or if people are going to assume about Thomas and Alastair or if that’ll cause issues or if no one knows outside of who they’ve told and they have to be careful or what. Which like wouldn’t necessarily need to be addressed if it wasn’t for the logistics of being together as two men in that time being part of the obstacle that they were struggling with being in their way and then it felt like it was totally forgotten to even be one at the end by CC

Idk like I’d love to think they just lived in a world where homophobia didn’t exist but it felt like homophobia was a plot point when CC wanted it to be an inconvenience and then suddenly disappeared just to make her writing easier the moment she didn’t want it there anymore instead of actually addressing the plots she raised with it if that makes sense?

And sorry, I really did not mean to go on a rant this long. And maybe everyone else had a very different reading experience than I did and other people don’t agree with some or all of this. I personally am just very confused about how the book was almost 800 pages long and it felt like so much of the development in it was us abruptly being told that development had happened rather than actually getting to see it and how so many of the issues were abruptly solved in an I don’t want to write this issue anymore kind of way rather than anything actually needing to be worked at outside of the Belial situation

Edit: You know what, I mentioned it in my tags but I feel like it’s annoying enough to put in the body of the post and make it even longer. What the fuck was with everyone outing or potentially outing everyone else just so that characters could openly talk about the queer characters and tell them to do what they want them to? Why did Matthew out his brother multiple times? Like yes, the people he said it to coincidentally already knew, but he didn’t know that. And why was Thomas outing Alastair? The straights got to keep their secrets as long as they wanted and fix their problems more naturally. Why did I have to sit through queer characters constantly having their sexualities and romantic histories to everyone else when they clearly had not okayed it? Why were the queer characters doing so much of the outing? Why were people who cared about them and knew what it felt like to be afraid of the wrong person finding out just broadcasting their sexualities to make it easier for CC to breeze past development to have their things get resolved fast? Why did no character have an issue with it at all?

[pigeonclaw]

I dont understand how poorly the authors are either understanding or conveying the map 😭 What "ThunderClan stuff" lies between RiverClan and ShadowClan?? What the fuck are you talking about????

[longagoitwastuesday]

So so indebted to u for posting those lovely illustrations from Cyrano <333 & even more so for yr tags!! I'm completely in love w yr analysis, please feel free to ramble as long as u wish! Browsing through yr Cyrano de Bergerac tag has given me glimpses of so many adaptations & translations I'd never heard of before! I'll be watching the Solès version next, which I have only discovered today through u ^_^ As for translations, have u read many/all of them? I've only encountered the Renauld & Burgess translations in the wild, & I was curious to hear yr translation thoughts that they might guide my decision on which one I buy first (not necessarily Renauld or Burgess ofc). Have a splendid day & sorry for the likespam! 💙

Sorry for the delay. Don't mind the likespam, I'm glad you enjoyed my tags about Cyrano, and that they could contribute a bit to a further appreciation of the play. I loved it a lot, I got obsessed with it for months. It's always nice to know other people deeply love too that which is loved haha I hope you enjoy the Solès version, it may well be my favourite one!

About translations, I'm touched you're asking me, but I don't really know whether mine is the best opinion to ask. I have read... four or five English translations iirc, the ones I could find online, and I do (and especially did, back when I was reading them) have a lot of opinions about them. However, nor English nor French are my first languages (they are third and fourth respectively, so not even close). I just read and compare translations because that's one of my favourite things to do.

The fact is that no translation is perfect, of course. I barely remember Renauld's, but I think it was quite literal; that's good for understanding the basics of the text, concepts and characters, but form is subject, and there's always something that escapes too literal translations. Thomas and Guillemard's if I recall correctly is similar to Hooker's in cadence. It had some beautiful fragments, some I preferred over Hooker's, but overall I think to recall I liked Hooker's more. If memory serves, Hooker's was the most traditionally poetic and beautiful in my opinion. Burgess' is a whole different thing, with its perks and drawbacks.

Something noticeable in the other translations is that they are too... "epic". They do well the poetic, sorrowful, grief stricken, crushed by regrets aspects of Cyrano and the play in general, but they fall quite short in the funny and even pathetic aspects, and that too is key in Cyrano, both character and play. Given the characteristics of both languages, following the cadence of the French too literally, with those long verses, makes an English version sound far too solemn at times when the French text isn't. Thus Burgess changes the very cadence of the text, adapting it more to the English language. This translation is the one that best sets the different moods in the play, and as I said before form is subject, and that too is key: after all, the poetic aspect of Cyrano is as much true as his angry facet and his goofy one. If Cyrano isn't funny he isn't Cyrano, just as he wouldn't be Cyrano without his devotion to Roxane or his insecurities; Cyrano is who he is precisely because he has all these facets, because one side covers the other, because one trait is born from another, because one facet is used as weapon to protect the others, like a game of mirrors and smoke. We see them at different points through the play, often converging. Burgess' enhances that. He plays with the language itself in form and musicality, with words and absences, with truths masking other truths, with things stated but untold, much like Cyrano does. And the stage directions, poetic and with literary value in their own right in a way that reminded me of Valle Inclán and Oscar Wilde, interact with the text at times in an almost metatextual dimension that enhances that bond Cyrano has with words, giving them a sort of liminal air and strengthening that constant in the play: that words both conceal and unveil Cyrano, that in words he hides and words give him away.

But not all is good, at all. Unlike Hooker, Burgess reads to me as not entirely understanding every facet of the characters, and as if he didn't even like the play all that much, as if he had a bit of a disdainful attitude towards it, and found it too mushy. Which I can understand, but then why do you translate it? In my opinion the Burgess' translation does well bending English to transmit the different moods the French text does, and does pretty well understanding the more solemn, cool, funny, angry, poetic aspects of Cyrano, but less so his devotion, vulnerability, insecurities and his pathetism. It doesn't seem to get Roxane at all, how similar she is to Cyrano, nor why she has so many admirers. It does a very poor job at understanding Christian and his value, and writes him off as stupid imo. While I enjoyed the language aspect of the Burgess translation, I remember being quite angry at certain points reading it because of what it did to the characters and some changes he introduces. I think he did something very questionable with Le Bret and Castel-Jaloux, and I remember being incensed because of Roxane at times (for instance, she doesn't go to Arras in his version, which is a key scene to show just how much fire Roxane has, and that establishes several parallels with Cyrano, in attitude and words, but even in act since she does a bit what Cyrano later does with the nuns in the last act), and being very angry at several choices about Christian too. While not explicitly stated, I think the McAvoy production and the musical both follow this translation, because they too introduce these changes, and they make Christian as a character, and to an extent the entire play, not make sense.

For instance, once such change is that Christian is afraid that Roxane will be cultured (McAvoy's version has that infamous "shit"/"fuck" that I detest), when in the original French it's literally the opposite. He is not afraid she will be cultured, he is afraid she won't, because he does love and appreciate and admires those aspects of her, as he appreciates and admires them in Cyrano. That's key! Just as Cyrano longs to have what Christian has, Christian wants the same! That words escape him doesn't mean he doesn't understand or appreciate them. The dynamics make no sense without this aspect, and Burgess (and the productions that directly or indirectly follow him) constantly erases this core trait of Christian.

Another key moment of Christian Burgess butchers is the scene in Arras in which Christian discovers the truth. Burgess writes their discussion masterfully in form, it's both funny and poignant, but it falls short in concept: when Cyrano tells him the whole discussion about who does Roxane love and what will happen, what they'll do, is academic because they're both going to die, Christian states that dying is his role now. This destroys entirely the thing with Christian wanting Roxane to have the right to know, and the freedom to choose, or to refuse them both. As much as Cyrano proclaims his love for truth and not mincing words even in the face of authority, Cyrano is constantly drunk on lies and mirages, masks and metaphors. It's Christian who wants it all to end, the one who wants real things, the one who wants to risk his own happiness for the chance of his friend's, as well as for the woman he loves to stop living in a lie. That is a very interesting aspect of Christian, and another aspect in which he is written as both paralleling and contrasting Cyrano. It's interesting from a moral perspective and how that works with the characters, but it's also interesting from a conceptual point of view, both in text and metatextually: what they hold most dear, what they most want, what most fulfills them, what they most fear, their different approaches to life, but also metatextually another instance of that tears/blood motif and its ramifications constant through the whole text. Erasing that climatic decision and making him just simply suicidal erases those aspects of Christian and his place in the Christian/Cyrano/Roxane dynamic, all for plain superficial angst, that perhaps hits more in the moment, but holds less meaning.

Being more literal, and more solemn, Hooker's translation (or any of the others, but Hooker's seems to love the characters and understand them) doesn't make these conceptual mistakes. Now, would I not recommend reading Burgess' translation? I can't also say that. I had a lot of fun reading it, despite the occasional anger and indignation haha Would I recommend buying it? I recommend you give an eye to it first, if you're tempted and can initially only buy one.

You can read Burgess' translation entirely in archive.com. You can also find online the complete translations of Renauld, Hooker and Thomas and Guillemard. I also found a fifth one, iirc, but I can't recall it right now (I could give a look). You could read them before choosing, or read your favourite scenes and fragments in the different translations, and choose the one in which you like them better. That's often what I do.

Edit: I've checked to make sure and Roxane does appear in Arras in the translation. It's in the introduction in which it is stated that she doesn't appear in the production for which the translation was made. The conceptualisation of Roxane I criticise and that in my opinion is constant through the text does stay, though.

[willowcrowned]

the irony of naomi novik’s books having very little fic on ao3 does not escape me. it does however annoy me a great deal

[juniperhillpatient]

Why did I do Jet so fucking dirty in ATLA TVD au lmao I could’ve at least given him a romance or something 😭 Am I gonna be this mean to him the whole time?

[coquelicoq]

Natsume: You didn't sleep a wink last night. Why not go and grab a few now? Natori [sparkling]: I'm just fine. It takes more than sleep deprivation to dull my dazzling self, so don't you worry your fussy little head. Natsume [concerned]: Nonsense like that is exactly what someone suffering from sleep deprivation would say! Sensei: Oh really? Has he been sleep-deprived every day of his life?

so i've been watching the natsume dub -

[chirpsythismorning]

Today is Day 185: What This Line Means for El's Letter to Mike at the Start of Season 4

I know a lot of fans are convinced that the Duffers are careless since they 'forgot' Will's birthday. But I assure you… they’re not.

There's zero doubt in my mind that the writers have a calendar which they refer to religiously, especially when making decisions about the timeline for the story. 

Literally every season starts with a date to establish the setting. Do we think they just settle on a date, without referring to any sort of notes?

There’s a basic responsibility there, at the very least, to be aware of what the characters would be doing at that moment in time, based on what generally happens during that time of year. This would require research beyond just picking a date and slapping it on the first episode of the season. 

Is it Spring, Summer, Fall or Winter? What events are likely to take place during that time of year and how do they plan the expectations of the setting around the characters and the story itself? That's all intentional and well thought out. There’s a reason every season is surrounding some sort of holiday/event at some point, and it’s because time is very very important in the world of Stranger Things.

Think about the various times they’ve had characters literally countdown events?

Mike with El in s2? El with Mike in s4? Suzie when referring to Dustin’s birthday in s4? They wouldn’t throw out lines like that if they didn’t do the math at least once themselves.

The ‘353 days’ line is one perfect example of the Duffer’s proving to us that they have access to calendars, calculators or even simply, google.

Look at that! It appears when Mike used the walkie to call El on Halloween of 1984 (October 31st) in s2, it had indeed been 353 days!

What makes this detail so so so so so fucking important, is that this might hold the answer to the murkiness of the s3 ending going into s4.

Because as of now, we don't really know when s3 ended exactly.

But the similarities of s3's ending to previous seasons, might help us figure out that answer...

Every season ends with a vague timestamp for the literal ending; the epilogue. They only offer up the date at the start of the season, but when it comes to the ending, they never do. It's always months or days if we're lucky.

For s1-2 we got a vague 'one month later', for s3 we got an even more vague 'three months later' and for s4 we surprisingly got something more specific, with 'two days later'.

I think the reasoning for this seems complicated, but it's fairly simple.

While it is quite commonplace to give exact dates at the start of stories, to set the scene and everything, there's this agreed upon understanding in film and even books arguably, that also providing an exact date for the epilogue feels a little cheap? Or maybe a bit too 'handholdy' is a better word? I could see that being something an amateur would do without realizing it looks tacky.

I also think it allows the writers to be more vague in what exactly the date is for the end, according to the audience at least. Because they 100% know what the date is on their end, but that doesn't mean they have to reveal it to us.

We don't know when s3 ends exactly. We know that the battle at Starcourt ended on July 4th-5th (respectively). Though we also know that based on s1's timeline, Mike's countdown considered El's death to be the morning of November 13th, and so we can presume perhaps that s3 technically ended on July 5th.

And so the s3 epilogue being 'three months later' would bring us to October 5th, 1985 right?

Well, not exactly.

You see, when the Duffers give us their vague epilogue scenes, they're not saying that it's exactly one month or three months later, to the exact day. They're being intentionally vague.

Season 1 ending says one month later, but it's actually been 25 days.

Season 2 ending says one month later, but it's actually been 40 days.

Season 3 ending says three months later, but it's actually been... well we don't fucking know!!!

BUT I don't think it really matters, because if the Duffer's made an effort to do the math correctly for their 353 days line in s2, then it's probably safe to assume they'd do math for their 185 days line in s4 as well? And to also give us the answer to that question somewhere in the show already, as opposed to throwing out some random date seasons later?

Otherwise why have countdowns like that at all? It literally makes no sense for them to give us an exact number, like 353 or 185, without checking that the days match up with the exact countdown they're giving us.

I'm just one fan, and it only took me maybe 3 google searches to figure this out in a matter of seconds. They are however literal experts in their profession, and for that reason I do feel comfortable giving them some credit here.

So now, let's try to apply this logic then to s3.

Perhaps it's safe to assume that El's countdown didn't start when the Byers moved to Cali in the s3 epilogue, just like Mike's countdown didn't start at the end of the s1 epilogue either.

It's believed that the Byers, but El specifically, had to go into hiding after the battle at Starcourt. And so, could this mean that El's countdown started on July 5th?

The day that Hopper died? The day she lost her powers? The day she had to go into hiding and probably couldn't properly communicate with Mike for about three months?

Honestly, I think it would make a lot more sense to have their countdown's (Mike's 353 vs. El's 185) parallel in how they started.

And it would be weird to restart that countdown simply because they reunited for one afternoon to move, again because there was obviously so much significance to everything that happened on July 5th, that it does make sense to me that El's countdown would have started there.

Also, I want to be thorough by mentioning that, the main reason we can easily rule out the Byers move date being the start of El's countdown, is that it doesn't add up whatsoever.

El saying it has been 185 days since the Byers moved, would mean she was writing the letter on April 7th, 1986, which is impossible. (Also Mike's birthday, which is hilariously ironic).

Even if we spread out that three month window, we still have to take into account that if it was closer to two months or four months, they would've just said that instead. So either the Byers moved on October 4th, or sometime between September 5th at the earliest and November 5th at the latest.

And so where do we go from here? 

Basically, from what we understand in canon on the show, there isn’t much to go off of besides that. And I think that’s the intention.

Over the seasons, the obscurity of the time jump between the epilogues has allowed for them to say obscure comments between seasons, such as, Yeah for like a month (Jonathan in s2) and It’s been a year, Mike (Will in s4) and so they obviously like this appeal of the audience not knowing for certain. But that doesn’t mean they don’t know for certain.

I would argue they have to know for certain, and have very likely done the math at least once or twice or ten times, especially because as I mentioned, there would be no reason to have characters countdown to the exact day, on multiple occasions, if the creators/writers or literally anyone involved with the show wasn't checking to make sure those numbers added up correctly.

And so, based on all of that, I think that El started counting down from the day they separated, just like the previous season, which would’ve been July 4th-5th (respectfully).

And so 185 days after July 4th-5th, 1985, would be January 5th-6th, 1986. 

Just work with me here. Because while there are several things that could work against this theory, I think those things could have intentionally been there to trick the audience into thinking this letter was written very close to spring break, even though the math for that doesn't add up. And so lets look at some of the details that might be telling us this letter isn't as recent as we're being lead to believe.

The main detail I want to mention, is that major projects like the one El describes in her letter, requiring a visual aid, is more likely to be assigned at the start of the trimester.

If you don’t live in the United States, or are unfamiliar, basically how it tends to work for most high schools is the school year get’s split into 3 trimesters. The 1st trimester goes from September-December, the second goes from January-March, and the third goes from March-June. It varies depending on the city/county/state. Though it may not seem very equal, it goes like this to accommodate the major holidays with extensive breaks. The first trimester has Thanksgiving then a brief return to school, followed by Christmas/New years. The 2nd trimester starts right after New Years, and ends with Spring break. Then once you return afterward Spring break, that’s the start of the 3rd trimester. It evens out to each trimester being about 3 months.

I think El would've mentioned this assignment to Mike closer to when it was assigned and not right before she was turning it in. And the reasoning for this is kind of obvious but understandably overlooked.

While most kids would probably not think about working on a project like this until the last minute, because most of us are expert procrastinators after almost a decade in school, El however is completely new to this experience. And so I imagine the moment she heard about this assignment, she was just like 'best get to it!!'! We even see her still working on it after the project was already graded because the significance of it was clearly important to her. And so if her and Mike were writing somewhat consistently as it appears, then this would have been mentioned a lot sooner than her most recent letter to him.

And when it comes to the rest of the letter, there are several clues that could also support this theory that it wasn't written as close to spring break as we're being lead to assume.

Like the mention of Joyce's new telemarketer job. It wouldn't really make sense for her job to have been like super new, within the last week from March 22nd, especially if it's intended to be this sort of deterrent for Mike getting ahold of Will on the Byers phone presumably since the move.

Also Jonathan's car, is looked like it had been deserted there for a long time, not a matter of days or weeks, but possibly months (since early winter)... And so Argyle driving them to school wasn't something that happened within the last week worth mentioning to Mike right before their reunion in her most recent letter, but most likely another detail she mentioned as an update, since Jonathan's car is being referred to as still broken.

Even separate from the letter, I wondered if there was evidence somewhere else that they could sneakily be trying to hint to us that this is actually being written early in the Winter trimester and not the very end. Then it hit me.

The lyrics in the background...

Although, there are some things that contradict this theory, again I think those details were put there for the sake of tricking us.

Like just think about it, if this was El's most recent letter, wouldn't it make more sense for her to mention both the countdown for when they last saw each other, and how many days until they'd be seeing each other if it was really that close? Unless of course that number of days until their reunion was still too high at the time for her to hype it up, assuming she was writing this letter, perhaps 1-2 months out?...

I also do think that it's likely Mike and El are quite active in their writing back and forth. After all, Will said El had like a book of letters from Mike, so they want us to think that they wrote a decent amount.

I'm guessing the conversation was casual and broad for this letter specifically, because El is still new at writing/reading obviously and because this letter was also being used to update the audience about the characters whereabouts since we last saw them.

This might not seem that groundbreaking, but what this theory boils down to, is that s4 opened with an old letter, not a recent one. It means Mike was reading a letter, possibly from as early as January, 2 months previous to present. This would mean Mike presumably had other, more recent letters available to him to look at, with countdowns like 20 days and 10 days or 5 days, with El gushing even more intensely over the fact that they're closer and closer to finally reuniting.

And yet Mike was fixating on this letter specifically the morning before their reunion, AN OLD LETTER!!

But why?

Let's again look at the vibe of El's letter. If you look really close, it comes off like a response to a questionnaire.

I've always said that although El's lied a lot in her entire letter to Mike, there's a reason they never let us see a letter from Mike to El, and it's because he probably wouldn't have faired much better.

I don't even think it's actually that Mike would've lied necessarily, as much as I think it was mostly a lie of omission situation.

He showed up in Cali as his inauthentic self, and so it wouldn't make sense for him to have given El updates on Hellfire in his letters, which was pretty much all he focused on back in Hawkins from what it looked like.

And so I think the letter he wrote, which El was responding to in that specific letter, was Mike focusing on asking her questions about how she was doing and how the Byers were doing. It's also probably the last time he asked about the others because of one specific detail he got that time, which he's been fixating on ever since... (you know the one...)

Regardless, Mike was reading an old letter, which makes the implications of this (and this)... astounding.

[an-inky-fingered-lass]

be the stillness of the moon

An alternate version of my fic, whistling static when the young learn to fly. Rated T.

Read on ao3.

He found her out on the porch, back against one of the cabin walls and one knee tugged to her chest.

Hunch proving true, Coulson snagged a familiar, heavy woolen blanket on his way out and eased the door open, letting it squeak just the slightest bit.

“Hey.”

May was staring off into the distance, the slope of her shoulders letting him know she’d heard and acknowledged his presence. She was still in pajamas, the soft, worn fabric not nearly warm enough for this kind of chill.

Phil made his way over carefully and settled down onto the wooden bench, noisy steps and his shoulders soft and easy. “May.”

“Wanted to see the sky.”

Her voice came out just below a murmur, but Coulson exhaled quietly -- relief and surprise both.

“One of those nights, huh.”

It took a long second, but she nodded. Coulson slouched comfortably, wedged his shoulder against the wooden slats of the cabin. Their cabin.

“How long’ve you been out here?” It was light, but the edge of concern appeared without his permission. It was alright.

May just shook her head.

She’d been off the last few days, snappish or a different sort of silent than usual. He’d kept an eye out but let her be, knowing she would bring whatever it was up if she needed to, and also that sometimes all he could do for her was give her the time and space she needed to deal in her own time, her own ways.

It had been months now, settling into this little cabin and building the kind of peacefulness he’d barely ever dared to imagine; enough time for him to recover his strength somewhat, for that barely perceptible air of tightly wound exhaustion that had surrounded May for years to begin to dissipate. They’d been able to start settling in, building the routines that they both, May especially, needed.

So much of it still felt new. They had thirty years between them, plenty of those spent living in close quarters and through the kind of hard years that taught you the most about a person, but it was still…different, when it was just their four walls; a smaller space, none of the responsibilities that had been a distraction and a stressor and a sanctuary all at once.

He’d gotten to hear May laugh, really laugh, for the first time in so long. He felt more like himself now than he had in years, settled and steady in his own mind and skin. They were still bound to have bad days. Always had, even back when they’d been barely more than kids, only beginning to learn what it would mean to live the life they’d chosen. May was still so used to shouldering everything on her own, and despite contrived appearances to the contrary, Phil actually sucked rather magnificently at the whole talking about it thing. They were working on it, like they were on everything else. It was still hard, sometimes.

“Wanna tell me what’s up?”

“You don’t have to stay,” May said quietly. “I’ll be fine in the morning.”

Okay, not an answer, but not a no, go away either. The fact that she wasn’t claiming to be fine now said…a lot.

“I’d like to, though.”

May blinked at him, genuinely surprised.

“If that’s okay?”

It took another moment, but she nodded. Phil tapped the blanket in his lap, drawing her attention to it, before he lifted it up, gave it a flap and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders. She had too many old injuries to be out in this kind of cold, and the weight would help. “You in pain?”

He saw her hesitate, falter. They’d had the be honest talk a few weeks ago, both of them equally as bad about powering through pain when they no longer needed to. It had taken May literally collapsing on her bad leg after pushing it for weeks for that to happen.

“Some,” May said finally, and Phil breathed out another little bit of worry. “Just stiff. I’ll take care of it later.”

Phil gave the blanket another pointed flick until she bundled herself up more securely, a little of the tension bleeding off her shoulders as she did. They had a few hot water bottles bundled up in one of the kitchen cupboards. He doubted she’d be up for a massage any time soon, but he could go dig those out in a bit, boil some water. As much as he wanted to, he knew better than to suggest going inside just yet.

The stars were bright, this far away from any light pollution. May loved it out here, despite the cold, the endless depth of the sky stretching on and on and on. Phil squinted habitually at his watch (he wasn’t wearing one) and then up at the moon, digging up rusty memories and figuring about three a.m., the angle of the waning crescent.

Pine was sweet in the air. It was still so easy to remember a world cracked apart. Phil swallowed against swelling relief, not for the first time, the reminder of more than he could have ever wished for.

May exhaled softly, letting something go. Phil took the cue and broke the silence, taking a leap.

“You went to see Robin and Polly today?”

May shook her head. “Didn’t go. Drove halfway there and turned around. I called Polly to apologize, made up some excuse, I don’t know.”

Oh. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Couldn’t.”

Phil took a slow breath, making sure he would sound the way he wanted to. “Daisy’s not upset with you, you know.”

There was a long, trembling pause. May’s voice was quiet, when she finally spoke. “She has every right to be. It was stupid of me to yell.”

Their pseudo-daughter (when had it gotten so easy to think of her like that?) was sound asleep in the little room off the hall (officially declared hers whenever she wanted it), here to stay with them the two weeks until Mack called her in to report for her new team’s first official mission. May had come home struggling, hiding it well enough that even he’d missed it at first, and it had been over…nothing, really. Daisy had stared after May’s retreating back with nothing but concern, reading the real reasons for her old mentor’s sudden lashing out in her rigid stride, the harsh lines of her back and shoulders. She knew May so much better than Phil thought either of them realized, these days.

He took another breath, still tempering his tone. “Stupid is the idea that you don’t deserve to be loved.”

May actually startled, turning around to stare at him with a look that tried its hardest to be a glare but fell quite a ways short. “I…what?”

Phil shrugged, keeping the movement gentle and easy despite the ache pulling tight in his chest. “C’mon, May. It’s not like I don’t have some idea of what’s going through your head. But it’s stupid. And I’ll keep saying so ‘til you believe me.”

“This isn’t about…” May closed her eyes with a growl, letting her head thud back against the paneled walls. “I don’t know how to do this, Phil.”

“Do what?”

“Live. Like this. Just be, I don’t know, a person. ”

“May…”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” May turned to stare at him, implacable. “I’m not the person I want to be, not… I’m working on it, but it’s not worth it if I’m hurting you— if I’m hurting everyone along the way.”

Phil shook his head, bewildered. “Where is this coming from?”

May just shook her head.

“Is this about--”

“It’s not about anything,” May snapped. He just blinked at her. There’d been no real heat in it.

May shook her head and looked away, propping an elbow on her good knee and letting her shoulders slump, palm bracing her forehead. Phil could feel her retreating, slipping farther and farther away.

He sighed and scooted closer before he could think for too long about it, rubbing a hand softly up and down the length of her spine. May wasn’t tense, didn’t flinch. Phil exhaled softly.

“Hey.”

May leaned slowly against him, her head still bowed, and he shifted to better settle her weight against his shoulder, breathing gentle and steady.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

He shook his head, knowing she could feel it. “What’s eating at you?”

It’d been so long that the unspoken things just kind of spoke for themselves. May’s snappishness over the past few days hadn’t been the kind of snappish she got when she was pissed about something -- this sort of scattered lapse in control was the exact opposite of shutting down, of keeping everything contained the way she was wont to do. She was doing her best to let him in now because she was in a place to accept support without depending on it, because grounded and self-reliant when it came to emotional stability had always been May at her happiest.

The kind of trust in the trying had carried them through more hells than he could count. It’d been a constant in his life for so long. He’d never taken it for granted. It still meant the world.

She was on the side of the hand he could feel, and the blanket was soft under his palm as he rubbed careful circles over her back.

“I walked the perimeter,” May muttered at last, muffled. Phil just nodded. He’d noticed the mud earlier, caking her boots.

“Checked all the weapons, the locks, the go-bags. Just sat there taking the gun apart, putting it back together. I haven’t gotten like this since that stupid detail in the Alps, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Too stressed,” Phil offered softly. The frustration in May’s scoff came through loud and clear.

“With what. ”

They were opposites, in this respect. He needed time to unwind if he didn’t want to start losing his mind, always had been that way. That was why field command hadn’t bothered him, why Director would have always been a little bit miserable. The weight of it all, he’d learned a long time ago how to carry.

May could handle anything while she was in the middle of it, would take the weight of anything and somehow still manage to stay centered, steady. It was once things slowed down that she’d get wound tighter and tighter, frustration usually the first thing to break the dam. She’d never really thought that was a valid reason to struggle, either. May knew all of it, and still thought she ought to be better than all things that made her human.

“Too much, too soon?”

May scoffed harder.

“What happened today?”

“Nothing. That’s the point.”

Phil just waited.

May straightened a little, after a while, pulling away and scrubbing her hands over her face. She looked away for another long moment.

“Nothing happened. It's just me.” The anger there was a clear mask, now, something heavier underneath. Bitterness?

He stayed quiet long enough to be sure she wasn’t planning to say anything else just yet. “Kiddo loves you, Mel.”

May looked more tired than ever, looking back at him.

“She misses you, wants to spend time with you. There’s no version of that where it’s a bad thing.”

There was another long silence. Phil kept quiet until he felt the air start to unravel, the weight slowly dissipating. May grappled silently with herself, motionless at his side.

He could feel the moment she decided to speak. May didn’t look at him, the words just barely there.

“I see myself hurting her.” Pause. “You. Daisy.”

Phil made a soft sound before he could stop himself. May shook her head in response without looking up.

“I know. I know it’s just… there’s no meaning to it. It’s not… but I…

“There’s nothing to fight here,” May said softly, as close to helpless as she ever let herself sound. “Just…”

“Yourself,” Phil said softly.

May nodded. “And that’s what I wanted. I need that, need to deal with… but I’m no good to be around like this.”

“What if we want to, though?”

May just looked at him, frustrated and desolate. After a split second the look vanished; she was unreadable to him, for a moment, blank.

“May. There’s nothing you could do that would make us-- make me want you far away,” he said quietly, steady, and watched the mask begin to crack. “If you need some air, some time to yourself-- that’s different. But, May, nothing is going to make me want to give up on this. I don’t want anything more than to see you happy.”

He watched her swallow, struggle a second to speak and then decide against it.

“We need you,” he said gently, because he was trying to say, do you understand how much you are loved? and sometimes that was the version of it May understood best. “Me, Daisy. We all do. You are so loved, Melinda, you know that?”

May pressed the heels of her hands hard into her eyes for a second, dropping her hands back into her lap as she lifted her head to stare out at the night.

“I love you,” Phil said, and watched the tears well up, the way May closed her eyes tight. “Melinda, hey. Look at me?”

She did, finally, and he reached out to cup her cheek with the hand he could feel, wiping away the tears trickling down her face. May had been fighting this for so long, but now she just looked at him, unblinking and vulnerable, her hands folded together in her lap.

“You’re gonna be able to hear it without crying,” Phil said quietly. “Even on bad days. It’ll take time, probably, but we have time, okay?”

It hadn’t been a hard thing for her to say, the first time. She’d just waited for the right moment. None of that was a surprise, once he’d gotten his wits back enough to stop gaping in the hall like an idiot. He needed words, sometimes, to understand, so that was what she’d given him.

It was still different when it came to herself. It wasn’t hatred May carried for herself any more, hadn’t been for a while; there’d been a quiet morning and a good hike and in far fewer words she’d told him that much herself. It wasn’t quite peace yet, either, but in so many ways it was forgiveness. He’d watched her fight for it for years, these hard-won inches of kindness, had realized a while ago that that was something he still needed to learn for himself.

May’s strength had never begun or ended at her ability to beat people to a pulp. That had never been the part he was in awe of.

Thing is, strength has never been known to make anything any easier -- not unless you’re moving house with a grand piano. It’s just a promise you’ll make it through.

“It’s okay,” Phil said, steady. It wasn’t so gentle, this time. Melinda needed certainty almost always more than she ever needed gentleness; he’d never entirely gotten over the surprise of realizing that was something he could give her. “You’re not alone, alright? We’re here. We have time.”

They’d lived so many lives, so many years spent choosing the world over theirs. Years of sacrifice, years sacrificed. They were never getting any of that back, but this was still a gift. Nothing had ever felt so much like hope to him as it did to be able to say that so easily -- we have time.

May didn’t say a word, but she leaned forwards to press her forehead into his shoulder, one arm reaching out to hold on tight.

He held her until she stopped shaking, until her breathing settled back to steady.

After a long time, May pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Eyes red, she managed to look disgruntled enough that Phil had to bite back a laugh.

“Lighter?” he suggested gently.

May grumbled. “Headache.”

She’d hated to cry since he’d known her. Claimed she had since she was a kid, that it always just left her feeling worse than before, wrung out. He’d said lighter because he could hear it, though, the edge of strain gone from the way she breathed whether or not she’d admit it. He would never manage to explain to her the relief it was, May allowing herself to unravel this far without so much of the old pain behind her eyes, him being able to just hold her without any terror gripping at his chest, so he didn’t try.

They sat there in silence for a few long, slow moments. Once the sense of ease had settled, Phil got to his feet, holding out a hand.

“Stars’ll be there tomorrow,” he said with a little grin, as May blinked up at him. “We need to sleep, Mel.”

May hesitated, but grabbed his hand. She didn’t wobble, as she stood up, but she didn’t quite succeed at hiding a wince, either. They wrapped arms around each other, familiar movements (except now they were just old, not recently injured), and made their way a little creakingly towards the door.

And paused, just inside the threshold.

A lamp was alight. Daisy’s dim outline was at the stove, but they could see her grin as she turned round at them, visibly chewing over potential remarks and discarding most of them.

“Morning,” she landed on, cheekily, and he heard May groan, struggling to extricate herself from her blanket and his steadying arm without the considerable indignity of toppling over.

“Why are you awake.”

“Were we too quiet?” Phil asked, grinning back at their girl.

“Mm-hm.”

May limped over towards the little counter and Daisy moved to meet her, holding out a mug and a hot water bottle. May accepted both.

“I’m sorry,” Phil heard her say, quietly, as he made his way over to sprawl over the couch. Daisy’s answering tone was soft, genuinely warm.

“S’all good, May. I know… but I think I know what you were trying to get at, maybe. We can talk about it later?”

May nodded. Phil smiled a little at the relief bleeding off her shoulders. She couldn’t exactly reciprocate, with both hands full of recently boiled liquid in various forms, but she leaned into it, when Daisy wrapped her in a brief hug. The look that passed between them said more than words ever could. Daisy’s smile was soft, as she pulled away, and that was that.

“AC?”

He grinned up at her as she came over, delivering another mug. Over at the counter, May braced herself against the scrubbed wood and took a sip from her own, looking up with one eyebrow raised.

“Bitter.”

From May, that was the highest compliment a mug (or a maker) of hot cocoa could receive. Daisy grinned over at her.

Phil took a sip in his turn, and wow. “Bitter,” he agreed. He figured he sounded only a little bit dismayed. He caught the pointed look May sent him. Not a little, then.

“Good.”

Daisy edged very obviously away, gathering up a mug of her own. “Uh. Don’t taste mine.”

May eyed her for a second. And lunged.

Daisy yelped, evading; May feinted neatly (Phil recognized the move and grinned) and wound up with two mugs in her hands, Daisy flailing. “May-- ”

They’d figured before that Daisy still couldn’t outclass May when it came down to raw speed, not in this case without quaking either her or the cocoa -- how that was still true given the amount of pain May’s stance said she was in, he didn’t know, but neither of them had spilled a drop. Phil just sighed. May took a sip.

“Daisy --”

“It’s just a little sugar-- ”

“This is not a little --”

“I’m young, my metabolism can handle it--”

“It’s the middle of the night--” May stopped. Glared. “Are you calling me old.”

“Nope!” Daisy said, as brightly as humanly possible. “Never! C’mon, it’s almost morning, mom, it’s like a once a year thing, we’re already up, you need to get warm, c’mon drink yours and gimmie!”

Mom. No one so much as blinked. May might have maybe handed over the mug with less grumbling than she otherwise would have. Maybe. Phil grinned to himself when he saw her scrub at her eyes behind Daisy’s back, just out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re coming on a run with me tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Daisy bundled towards her, herding towards the sofa. “First you need to get off your feet, sit, please, you’re freezing.”

They wound up all bundled up on the sofa together, sipping mugs of cocoa and tangled up in all the blankets in the house. Phil started telling stories, because there was cocoa and why not, dredging up some Daisy had never heard before and that May would have grumbled at, at length, on almost any other day.

Daisy’s ringing laughter filled every corner. The world closed in around them, just for a little while, a little circle of warmth, safety. Family.

May just listened, leaning against him again with Daisy’s head on her shoulder, eyes soft and content.

She was the only one of them who hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, but it was Daisy who dozed off first, her cheek still on May’s shoulder and no tension at all between her brows. May lifted her mug into the coffee table and slipped a pillow beneath her cheek but otherwise wouldn’t move, hands feather-light as they brushed a strand of Daisy’s hair gently out of her eyes. Her eyes were wet again, but she just looked at him, aching and steadfast in the darkness, the gentle light of a waxing moon.

They didn’t say a word. They didn’t have to.

They would all wake up the next morning groaning, lower backs yelling obscenities and Daisy’s neck stiff from being bent at a near-right angle for far too long. For the few hours of darkness remaining, they all slept peacefully.

May awoke with the first rays of sunlight, blinking her eyes open to find her family huddled comfortably around her, upturned faces washed in gold.

They were at peace, safe and warm. All of them bore ghosts in their shadows, stubborn and lingering; some things would still hurt, come morning. Light tumbled shyly through the window, growing in strength until it sprawled, defiant, into every corner of the room.

The day was going to be beautiful. May exhaled, soft and slow.