#yes i know i might be oversimplifying

[livstarlight]

No matter how you decide to read this scene, I can’t get out of my mind the idea that even if Namor did have his agenda, he was not expecting her to basically offer to be kept there

Poor dude really thought he would have to resort to every last inch of his charm, or at worst threaten, to convince her to at least hear him out, instead she did listen to him, intently, then batted her eyelashes and asked to see his nation with the biggest smile on her face

My girl Shuri truly gagged an immortal mutant feathered serpent god and had him giggling kicking his feet twirling his hair HER POWER TRULY IS UNMATCHED

[barnbridges]

every single time i see some fake tism news i close tiktok down to where i only get basically only one creator who is the single most autistic creature known to man infodumping about her life, truly achieved enlightenment.

[danse--macabre]

replaying act 1, we know there's fun potential for astarion/wyll, but I would love to see more astarion/wyll that keeps... each characters' rough edges? yes wyll will call astarion handsome and charming but it's through gritted teeth between comments about the danger he could pose. wyll *is* the person who is sincerely most likely to kill astarion in the camp - he's not only a monster hunter, but he can be morally inflexible and tend towards black/white thinking, e.g. on approaching a goblin leader he'll indicate he's ready to kill them immediately and push the player character to take action, regardless of subtlety. astarion, meanwhile, will call wyll a fairytale prince in a way that implies wyll's living on another plane of existence, highly unrealistic, and immature, even.

I think that immemdiate hostility is actually part of what makes the dynamic interesting and getting rid of it actually oversimplifies these characters - especially if you're putting wyll in the reductive position of 'perfect gentleman' and 'gentle soul' whose whole purpose is to soothe astarion's trauma (bad!). wyll is his own character with his own flaws including a matyr complex, astarion has some genuine hangups about kindness and heroism he needs to work through, this relationship is about two hurt people who are morally at odds and are full of biting tension - but it's exactly that which makes it interesting.

personally, I'd love to see an initial dynamic astarion who thinks it'd be fun if he can pull wyll down to his level (the gutter, morally), who thinks he can get wyll to drop the façade (or so astarion thinks it is), and constantly pushes with a wyll who is so fixated and deadset on keeping an eye on astarion that he's basically with him constantly. something that explores how that clash in values might play out.

sure, by act 3 we might get astarion, having been in close proximity to wyll, caring for wyll as a person, advocating against self-sacrifice and for wyll not to sell his soul for a father who threw him out -- but that's several steps ahead.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Could you elaborate more on akutagawa bringing out atsushi's cruel side and atsushi bringing out akutagawa's kinder side? Despite everything i do think there were moments where atsushi held akutagawa's strength in high regard and felt inferior to him but denies this by constantly mocking akutagawa and reminding him that he lost in their first fight. Ngl i really love how atsushi can be himself around akutagwa, he doesn't need to be the atsushi that everyone loves, he can be the atsushi that only he can love 😭

Okay I've talked about this plenty so you might want to check out these posts (1) (2) (3) (4); on Akutagawa's good nature (1) (2); on Atsushi's mean nature (1) (2) (3)

My final take is: it's true, Atsushi brings out Akutagawa's kind side and Akutagawa brings out Atsushi's cruel side. But it shouldn't be left at that, risking of running into the error of reducing their relationship to an oversimplifying formula. It's true, Atsushi is mean around Akutagawa and Akutagawa is kind around Atsushi; but what we should really focus on is the fact that they manage to bring out a side of each other that other characters don't. Which is a good thing! It means that they can be their true selves, letting go of the fear of judgement and abandonment, because they know they're okay with each other. And I'm positive that yes, although it initially manifested with Atsushi being straight up a jerk to Akutagawa, it's not going to stop at that; because if it's true that Akutagawa brings to light facets of Atsushi's nature that don't usually emerge, it's also true that Atsushi's true nature isn't all evil and nothing else. First off, Atsushi is also manifestly more confident around Akutagawa, he's more brave and cool. He's sassy and sharp, he's blunt and stops overthinking things. Who knows if, once he's grown more affectionate of Akutagawa, once he's changed his mind about him, that will also translate in him being more open about how much he admires Akutagawa? Personally, I like to believe it will (Atsushi's love language being words of affirmation which is exactly what Akutagawa needs, eheh). After all, the “If you asked me, I'd say Dazai-san has already recognized you long ago” (which I've said, probably made Akutagawa fall right then and there) likely didn't come from a place of high esteem as much as it was just Atsushi honestly expressing his thoughts, unfiltered in front of Akutagawa. Then, just think of what he could tell him once his feelings for Akutagawa have morphed from simple animosity to something positive!

To me sskk really is:

It's unpealing each layer till they're completely naked in front of each other, but God knows if having someone they can be utterly vulnerable with isn't exactly what they need. And yes, that started off as Atsushi being extremely rude to Akutagawa, but I'm sure it's not going to stop at that. It's going to develop in Atsushi being comforted by Akutagawa saying “do we need any more?” because having each other is truly all they need, and it's going to develop in Atsushi softly smiling at Akutagawa because no one else could make him feel safe and serene as he does.

[tabithatwo]

it's yellowjackets / jennifer's body parallels time!

hi hello keep reading if you would like to hear about shauna/jennifer and jackie/needy, here's my totally noncomprehensive, very much off the cuff thoughts on this very complex and interesting dynamic!!

(i'm not getting into the basic parallels, i'm gonna assume you know the karyn kusama of it all, the heart necklace, the homoerotic female friendship, the death)

yellowjackets is so brilliant because it feeds you stereotypes and absolutely does not deliver on them. there could be an entire paper on each girl and how this is true for them specifically, but walk quickly with me because i want to get into the nitty gritty gory fun stuff! a brief oversimplified example: nat is referred to as a burnout, some would assume she's a loner based on that, but she cares about the team as a unit more than arguably anyone else. (this is common in real life too, our stereotypes often don't hold water in reality and yj reflects that beautifully!)

now to the jackie/shauna of it all. it would be oh so incredibly easy to look at jackie and think she's the jennifer of the duo. we are set up to see her as prettier, more popular, more demanding. but that illusion falls apart QUICKLY if you pay attention to the things that jackie actually says and does. she's not a mean girl. she's actually one of the kindest on the team. she doesn't pick on shauna, she clings. there are plenty of takes on this on tumblr so i won't exhaust it, my adhd loves to digress and meander but i'm forcing myself back onto the trodden path to this point: people look at the first few minutes of the pilot and they immediately decide that they know who these girls are. the audience typecasts jackie as a jennifer and shauna as a needy. the popular, bubbly girl and her shy, bookworm best friend.

a lot of people, especially casual viewers who don't study this show like its their job (god, wonder what that would be like lol) understandably stop here. but to me the BRILLIANCE of yj is that they don't actually make it HARD for you to undo your initial impressions. the material is there. it isn't hidden. it isn't some deeper self of each character that is unraveled throughout seasons. they push, push, push to see just how far they can carry our deeply held stereotypes/expectations. how forward and violent can shauna be, with viewers still clinging to a shy and sweet girl, who was really their own creation? how kind and honestly pathetic kicked-puppy can jackie be, with viewers still clinging to a mean girl, who was really their own creation? how far will we go to warp the characters intentions, so that we can keep them in the box we understand them in? they ask this of the viewer and of other characters, but AGAIN i digress.

so, while this might sit strangely with some, yes i think that jackie is very much aligned with needy if you peel back just one layer. but far above and beyond that, shauna is so very fucking jennifer.

the overall veneer is thinned immediately in yj. there isn't one girl in the stands and one on center stage. jackie and shauna are both on the team. they go to the same parties, they play the same sport, i would argue that shauna isn't even coded as "less pretty" (please note the word coded, because i'm not saying needy is literally less pretty than jennifer, i am simply saying that we have hair, makeup, clothing, glasses trends that we use to stereotype characters, are you with me?)

so now what? now these girls are both and neither. shauna thinks that she is the needy to jackie's jennifer. jackie wears the necklace and the introductory shots frame her as important. but we're already diverting from that set-up.

our absolute clearest common denominator here is one that i rarely see people mention funnily enough: JENNIFER IS A SUCCUBUS. she CONSUMES. she KILLS. she WANTS and she TAKES.

now before you get TOO EXCITED!!! i see some of you getting ready to say i'm a shauna shipman hater, put the pitchforks down!! shauna is one of my favorite characters of all time. i love her crazy ass so deeply that it's alarming. (i don't hate jennifer, either, for the record.) i love her largely for WHAT she is. i think sanitizing or sweetening her is a disservice. she's amazing and complex and wounded and capable of deep love. but she also, quite LITERALLY, consumes.

her character is sex and desire and violence and obsession and consumption. and it's AMAZING. she's POWERFUL. she's our main framing character (in this dynamic), rather than needy. the scripts are switched. jennifer dies and needy lives, and that's one story. that's clearer cut, simpler, made for a horror film. but here, jackie dies and shauna lives, and that story is deep and rich and goes on to include a whole lot more death and destruction and chaos.

shauna tells us herself that it excites her. she likes it. she is this girl. this woman. she reminisces and she recreates and she covets.

jennifer tries to consume needy, shauna literally consumes jackie.

there's more to this story, obviously. you could deep dive and mine for the intricacies of the set up and fall of stereotype and expectation, or collect all of the exact parallels. but i'll stick with a few, because this is a quick outburst of thought.

a huge one, who is taking whose boyfriend?

here's another personal favorite of mine, just for kicks

is it too complex to neatly tuck away? absolutely. they're different stories with different themes. shauna isn't simply a teenager possessed by a demon. it runs far deeper. as is the essence of this show.

but if you want to look at parallels, look at the one who has been holding the knife the whole time.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

You don't have to respond to this one, but @ your last tags on the found family trope post, I can't say I haven't been curious if anything like that was ever the case. You've been so careful in painting everyone's relationship to be on trust and healthy reliance on one another in times of need, and Techno + Dream definitely have something more intimate and close going on (which I deeply appreciate btw- I couldn't bear it if someone tried to stick itwall!Dream as a brother to Techno, or put him in alongside Wilbur as a son figure to Phil :shudders:), so I'm VERY curious how detailed those thoughts have gotten at any point in time /lh /but genuine

(talking about my semi-cursed tags on this post)

yes i can talk about this all day !! i think the dynamic that doomsday trio brings is fascinating, and i don't blame those who see it as a nuclear family dynamic because i think the comparison does work in some places, but it's more complicated than that. i touched on it (in vaguely poetic terms) in this post, but i can give more detail here.

c!philza is an old man and an experienced father, and his instinct as a guardian is strong. this is the closest we get to a nuclear family format in itwall; phil definitely calls on some of his skills as a father when he helps dream, but it's a bit more complex than that. phil recognizes that dream is an adult in human years and doesn't need to be babied (hell, he doesn't even baby Wilbur, his own son who's around the same age!). dream needs care, he needs a mentor, and he needs a better self-preservation instinct before he kills himself. i think their relationship is closer to ancient grecian mentorship than fatherhood/sonhood, the only difference is that the mentee is on death's door for a while and needs some extra attention. phil sees himself in dream, dream sees phil as someone he might like to be, and there's a level of mutual respect there.

i also think that techno and dream have a sense of brotherhood, but in the same way that two athletic teammates have a brotherhood. they have a long history of trust between them, with room for playfulness and teasing. there's a lack of touch aversion (which is HUGE for dream), and dream initiates more of their touches (as opposed to phil, where he tends to be more submissive) (i'm thinkin about ch 12 & ch 19).

and, of course, techno & phil have a complicated relationship of their own. i'm always annoyed by headcanons that techno is phil's son-- we see plenty of interactions where they mutually worry over each other and care for each other. the will is Not written like a boy talking to his father. these two are lifelong partners, and that letter is written to someone who techno knows will understand him and trusts to carry out the more sentimental, intangible tasks, like talking to niki and ranboo, with very little instruction.

highly oversimplified but this is the idea. Techno and dream have similar relationships with phil but it's not really sonhood. all built on trust. they've proven to each other that they will keep each other safe.

and honestly.. none of those relationships would have to exclude sex or intimacy. equals/partners can have sex. comrades can have sex. mentors/mentees can have sex (i think people feel weird about this one, but again: think Ancient Grecian). i have Quite A Few scenes in my head about how their sexual relationships might work (especially in the early days when dream isn't feeling good...). i guess in light of everyone being more open about shipping i would consider writing them, i'd just keep them here instead of ao3.

i think both phil and techno consider dream to be heartstoppingly lovely. i think dream would love to be loved. i think phil&techno and techno&dream may have had some encounters Before the start of itwall, so it would just be a matter of tying it all together.

[jeannereames]

Do you see memes and shitposts about Alexander and his time? If yes, do you like them, you hate them? Would you change something about these memes?

I’m sorry. I’m just really curious about what a professor thinks about this. Do you perhaps have a favorite Alexander meme?

Well, for me there’s a big difference between memes and shitposts. The former can be rather entertaining, the latter are just trolling. Don’t feed the trolls. I realize I’m perhaps defining shitposting more narrowly than some, but there’s enough of the narrow sort out there I don’t want to confuse it with memes.

Meme are great. I have two favorites, although not about Alexander, ironically. I’ve shared them below. Both show up in my class Power-points, btw! Many of my colleagues also enjoy clever memes. My buddy Borja Antela was trying to collect some on Alexander last year. For a while, I followed Alexandergoatmemes on Instagram, but finally left because about 85/90% of them seemed to be about Alexander naming cities after himself. Sure, it’s funny maybe the first 20 times, but at 100+?

So memes are great. Shitposting and ignorant-posting, however, are annoying.

I’m deliberately creating that third category. Shitposters know they’re posting shit; ignorant-posters (usually) don’t. The latter put up videos, tweets, or blog entries about (in this case) Alexander that perpetuate a lie, a false quote, or an oversimplified-and-mostly-wrong factoid. Some ignorant-posters are just reposting what they heard because they don’t know any better and may receive correction well enough—especially if offered politely. Yet others get upset (sometimes disproportionately so) when their errors or distortions are pointed out.

This can be about controversial matters, such as Alexander’s putative “sexuality” or it can be something surprising. I once had a fellow fly off the handle when he posted that Alexander was left-handed and I (gently) corrected him.* You’d have thought I’d called his mother a whore. It seemed quite silly…except that left-handedness used to be considered a Very Bad Thing. So being able to claim famous people as lefties was apparently more for him than just leftie pride.

Aside from oddities, most of the ignorant-posting I’ve seen comes in three main types.

First, we have the religious/spiritual/life-coach sorts who usurp Alexander for a moral lesson—not unlike the orators of the (Roman-era) Second Sophistic, or both Muslims and Christians in some of the Alexander Romances. Alexander has ALWAYS been a malleable figure for lecturing. Ergo, he pops up in homilies/sermons as a parable, like his supposed Last Three Wishes. It is, of course, total bullshit, but there’s quite a lot of stuff like it out there. People read it, go “Aww,” and reblog without bothering to check if it’s correct. It has “the authority of hearsay.” These can be either Alexander-positive or Alexander-negative parables, btw.

See also: quotes attributed to famous celebrities that they never, in fact, said. Alexander gets these too. The ¡Inspirational! “Army of Sheep Led by a Lion” is especially egregious, as it’s a general proverb that appeared well after Alexander (no, he didn’t say it). It seems to be currently popular, along with, “There is nothing impossible to him who will try” (also not ATG). Yet these make great quotes for those damn “Inspirational Posters.” Here’s a whole page of them, lion quote right at the top, suitable for a Power-point!...with no attempt to verify their authenticity or say where they got them. But the image with the quote below is especially funny as they even put a date on their fictional quote. If it has a date, it must be true! Netflix, btw, used that bloody quote even though I told them not to; it was fake. Didn’t matter.

Second, we have the alt-right/white supremacist groups, or hangers-on who might reject the label (coyly or not) but embrace much of its Eurocentric thinking. These folks present Alexander as spreading good [white] Western values to the poor benighted East [brown people]. It’s essentially warmed-over Plutarch with a dash of Curtius and some Arrian. Their Alexander even sometimes has longish flowing (blond) locks and is oddly tall.** Like Thor. I stay the hell away from them but have occasionally stumbled over them on Tik-Tok.

Anyway, the alt-right crowd may have read some about Alexander, written by other alt-right guys who take material from a carefully curated set of “accepted” histories: Arrian and Plutarch, and not just Plutarch’s Life of Alexander, but his double-essay from the Moralia, “On the Fate or Fortune of Alexander.” They tend to be war/conquest-approving and see the Greco-Roman past as some pure Aryan utopia from which we’ve fallen into our “wretched age of iron.”*** Of late, a lot of their associated images are AI generated, btw. A couple examples below.

Last, and on the opposite end of the spectrum are the Alexander-was-Queer-AND-Wonderful, and oh, boy, some of them also don’t want a single bad thing said about their hero. They may know relatively little about his life aside from his putative gayness, but are just as resistant to/resentful of being corrected in their errors and romantic oversimplifications.

And that is what all of these categories share: oversimplification for the sake of a particular social and/or political agenda.****

Isn’t it, then, also shitposting? No. Because shitposters intend to stir the pot. They may or may not believe what they say, but they’re saying it TO get a reaction. Like the Tweet Heard Round the Alexander-verse after the Netflix thing (below). THAT was a shitpost. His entire goal was to go viral, and he succeeded.

By contrast, ignorant-posters usually aim for a particular audience and rarely expect to go viral outside their circle. Nor do they expect to be corrected. When they are, they react with surprise and anger. (Again, there are exceptions.)

I tend to observe these things, but rarely engage—although I did engage more when I was a young grad student. Now if I reply, it’s general (as here), not to the original post/tweet itself. TBH, I have books and articles to write, classes to teach, and papers to grade. 😉 I don’t have time for flamewars.

-----------------------

* Yes, I made Alexander left-handed in Dancing with the Lion, partly for the hell of it. But there’s zero evidence one way or the other—which I point out in my Author’s Note at the end of book 2, Rise.

** BTW, there’s a Whole Thing out there online about Alexander as tall, even Super Tall, claiming evidence which they don’t actually cite (correctly). Note the “many stories suggest….” Oh, really? These are? Anyway, I don’t think the author of that blog entry is alt-right—which is why I put it as a footnote—but dig the wacko AI white-haired Nordic Alexander at the top! And I’m still chuckling at a 7-foot-tall Alexander. Good Lord, how tall would that make Hephaistion?

*** Yeah, that’s a little bow to Hesiod’s theory of the Ages of Man.

**** Note that I didn’t include Greek Nationalists. While some of them also swing right (Golden Dawn, Front Line, National Reform Party, etc.), many are more moderate. Alexander is a Greek hero, and if what’s presented about him by some is also oversimplified to fit a national narrative, it doesn’t spring from ignorance so much as deliberate choice and what they learned in school/at home. Think about what the average (white) American knows about George Washington or Thomas Jefferson, or for that matter, the average native person about Tecumseh or Crazy Horse.

[flightfoot]

When talking about whether a character’s “trustworthy”, I often feel like people are oversimplifying things. Characters are often trustworthy for some things, but may not be as reliable for other things.

For example: Can you trust Nino to always try to protect the people he cares about, even when it puts him in danger, even when it seems hopeless? Absolutely. Can you trust him to effectively safeguard a secret? Not really. Even when he genuinely tries to keep one, he just doesn’t have a great poker face.

Can you trust Alya to care about her friends and try to help and comfort them? Yes. Can you trust her to always do exactly what’s asked? Not necessarily, she’ll evaluate the circumstances herself, and may come to a different conclusion about what’s best to do.

Can you trust Marinette to stand up for others when they’re being treated unfairly, especially by people with authority? Yes. Can you trust her to always respect other people’s privacy? No, not really. She tends to feel responsible for everything, and to be responsible for fixing anything that goes wrong, but in order to do that, she needs to know everything, which means that she might invade people’s privacy to get the info she thinks she needs. Just in general, Marinette feels like she has the weight of everything that goes right or wrong on her shoulders, so in order to make things go right, she tries to get all the information and make all the decisions in order to stave off disaster.

Can you trust Adrien to comfort his friends whenever they need it, especially Ladybug, even when he’s not happy with them? Yes. Can you trust him to always stick around if he doesn’t think he’s needed? Not really, no. He’s pretty insecure about being abandoned, and will leave first if he thinks it’s likely to happen or is already happening, and he doesn’t think it’ll cause any harm for him to leave.

What characters are trustworthy on depends on their personalities and personal values, especially when their different desires/values conflict with each other. 

[atonalginger]

Snippet Sunday

I got a lot going on, it's been a week, and I haven't been written anything since Tuesday. BUT I did a lot of writing the week before and have lots to sample from. Mostly from Reclaiming Home. Thanks for the tag and reminder @therealgchu!

This is a small snippet from a later chapter of Reclaiming with Sam and Cora talking.

--

He held his little girl while she read her book, sipping his juice pouch, wondering if the universe was going to take anymore swings at him this week. He wondered what kind of shit show the Lodge might be when they walked in, whenever they made their way over. Last time they were there it was a fight, Sarah flinging insults at Jamie and then the verbal sparring match between everyone after that. It’d be nice if everything slowed down for a bit.

“Hey dad?” Cora asked, closing her book again.

“Hey kiddo?” he replied.

“Are you and Doc going to get married?”

He blew out his cheeks, Really, universe? “We haven’t talked about it.”

“Do you want to?” Cora asked

“Why?”

“Fox’s note had said the photo album he made was supposed to be an engagement gift,” Cora explained, “I don’t think he meant to tell me that, just wrote it in autopilot sort of thing, which implies he knew you were considering it before. Or maybe assumed?”

“He knew I’d gone ring shopping,” Sam admitted without thinking and then winced. Sleep deprivation was a better truth serum than anything a lab could produce, “but like I said, we haven’t talked about it.”

“You aren’t going to drag it all out are you?” Cora asked.

“Cora, it’s been seventeen years,” Sam said slowly, “don’t you think we should take more than two weeks before-“

“No,” Cora said simply, “I think you both work well together, I think you make each other happy, I think you know each other well enough, and I think it’d be silly to go through the motions of starting over when there isn’t a need.”

“That so?”

“Yes,” Cora nodded and went to get up, “I’m going to go lay down. You should too. In the bed.”

“But I was getting used to the idea of being Emperor of the couch,” Sam joked.

“Go to bed, Dad,” Cora said as she scuffed down the hall, “and try not to break any toes on the way.”

“Love you too, gumdrop,” he laughed.

He sat there, grappling with what she said. Part of him wanted to say she was wrong. Oversimplifying a situation she was too young to understand. There was so much to deal with before they could even consider it. And the other part that thought she was absolutely right and she should say it. Cora was always a smart one and she had a good read of people. She wasn’t too young to understand, she was simply cutting all the bullshit away and getting to the heart of the matter. Why waste time when they were happy?

[kaurwreck]

Hiya, thanks for indulging me in my little hyper fixation!

（╹◡╹）♡

I have more questions if you’re interested in sharing!

Is there any connection between the real Port if Yokohama and the irl authors? Did Asagiri choose Yokohama for a specific reason or something like that?

Do the authors in a specific organisation get chosen for their irl relationships or was it randomized?

How do the literary texts have connections with manifestation of the ability in universe? (Some are obvious others not so much eg. For the Tainted Sorrow = gravity???????)

Sorry for the long ask. I hope you have a nice day! :D

I've hesitated to answer this ask because I wanted to be thorough and give each question due consideration. Further, the latter two questions rely a lot on my individual interpretation and I can't offer very much objectivity. But, I think I might be overthinking it, so below, please find attempts at answering each in turn.

The Port of Yokohama

The characters in Bungo Stray Dogs are named after and inspired by authors from modern Japanese literature. The "modern" era of Japan is generally (albeit not necessarily appropriately) measured as beginning during the Meiji Restoration, during which Japan restored centralized Imperial rule, ended a centuries-long seclusion by opening its borders to the West, and rapidly industrialized. For reference, Britain's Industrial Revolution spanned eighty years, from 1760 to 1840. By contrast, Japan industrialized within, roughly, forty years.

Japan reluctantly opened to the West under duress; Commodore Perry arrived in Japan with a squadron of armed warships, a white flag, and a letter with a list of demands from US President Fillmore. A year later, Japan signed the disadvantageous and exploitive Treaty of Amity and Commerce with the United States (日米修好通商条約, Nichibei Shūkō Tsūshō Jōyaku), which opened the ports of Kanagawa and four other Japanese cities to trade and granted extraterritoriality to foreigners, among other trading stipulations. 

However, Kanagawa was very close to a strategic highway that linked Edo to Kyoto and Osaka, and the then-government of Japan did not relish granting foreigners so much access to Japan's interior. So, instead, the sleepy fishing village of Yokohama was outfitted with all the facilities and accoutrements of a bustling port town (including state-sponsored brothels), and the Port of Yokohama opened to foreign trade on June 2, 1859.

Thus, Yokohama is representative of Japan's opening to the West, including Western literature. Short stories and novels as the mediums we know them were Western imports to Japan, and Western literature shaped, inspired, and became subject to cross-cultural examination by Japanese authors.

This included Russian literature: Kameyama Ikuo, a Japanese scholar of Russian literature, described Fyodor Dostovesky's enduring popularity in Japan as follows:

In Japan, there were two Dostoevsky booms during the Meiji period [1868-1912], and The Brothers Karamazov being translated into Japanese for the first time in 1917 triggered a third. After that, critics like Kobayashi Hideo led fourth and fifth waves of popularity before and after World War II, and then Ōe Kenzaburō led the sixth wave around 1968, right when the student protests were at their height. Today we might say we’re in the middle of a seventh, with Murakami Haruki writing about how he was influenced by The Brothers Karamazov.

I've oversimplified Yokohama's role in Japan's modern engagement with the West substantially for the sake of brevity, but in short, yes, Kafka Asagiri chose the Port of Yokohama for a reason. Yokohama was, for a time, Japan's most influential, culturally relevant international metropolis, before becoming eclipsed by Tokyo in more recent history.

The Organizations

There aren't bright-line rules to explain why each character is in each organization, although it isn't randomized either.

Attempts to delineate between the organizations based on the irl!authors' philosophies, legacies, literary genres, degrees of acceptance or rejection of Western influence, etc., are inaccurate oversimplifications at best. (At worst, they're orientalist and, in some cases, conflate fascist ideology with literary aesthetics -- or literary aesthetics with violence; I've seen both, oddly enough.)

That said, the namesakes' irl relationships and literary impacts are sources of inspiration for the relationships in bsd, including between and among the various organizations. For example, Jouno, Tetchou, and Fukuchi were all among Japan's first Western-style newspaper editors. Kouyou and Mori were in the same literary circles and collaborated on influential publications; such as the magazine in which they penned anonymous reviews of works by emerging authors that made or broke careers, and which established modern literary criticism in Japan. Akutagawa is such an enduring and intimidating titan in Japanese literature; the sharpness of his prose and his ability to gut me like a fish suit bsd!Akutagawa's theatric and violent role within the Port Mafia.

But, Mori Ogai and Yosano Akiko were dear friends, Chuuya Nakahara idolized Kenji Miyazaki, and modern Japanese authors weren't mafiosos, private detectives, military police, or surreptitious intelligence officers. I'd warn against (i) cramming bsd's characters into oversimplified archetypes or literary devices and (ii) overinflating the importance of or reading any certainty into the patterns and reflections of the irl!authors. bsd makes dynamic and creative use of its source material to tell a story that's very much its own.

The source material absolutely adds depth, commentary, and intention to Kafka Asagiri's storytelling, but only if read within the context and framework of the story being told.

For an example of why strict dichotomies and oversimplified metanalysis don't work for comparing the various organizations, I wrote a post explaining why it's inaccurate to compare the Port Mafia and the Agency using an East vs. West framework here.

The Abilities

Yes, the literary texts inspire how the corresponding abilities manifest in-universe. At least, I think so, based on my own interpretations. For example, I see the green light across the bay from The Great Gatsby in the Great Fitzgerald and a throughline between Fyodor's bloody ability and the symbolic eucharist in Crime and Punishment.

I speculate about Fyodor's ability manifesting as imagery from Crime and Punishment here.

I mention the potential relationship between irl!Akutagawa's literary voice and bsd!Akutagawa's ability here.

I also share some thoughts on Dazai and the manifestation of No Longer Human based on narration from No Longer Human here.

For the Tainted Sorrow, in particular, is a poem about grief, which characterized much of Chuuya Nakahara's brief life. I've always experienced grief in intense fluctuations of weight -- sometimes heavy and immobilizing, sometimes untethering and billowing, often compulsive and consuming. It has an immense gravity.

I've always thought that bsd!Chuuya's manipulation of gravity emblemized his intense and layered relationship with grief -- for irl!Chuuya, his brother, his parents' brutal expectations, his lover, his friends, his son; for bsd!Chuuya, the Sheep, the Flags, the yet-named seven taken by Shibusawa's fog. But where irl!Chuuya was seemingly crushed by the gravity of what he lost, bsd!Chuuya defiantly persists with a rougish levity, his grief galvanizing his ferocious love for others and his desire to live for and in service of their memories.

To roughly quote bsd!Chuuya's character song, "I will manipulate even the weight of this cut-short life."

But, that's only my interpretation; take it with a grain of salt. Or with the weight of several pounds of salt. The extent to which it compels you is yours to decide.

[groenendaelfic]

i love YR and i love wille and simon so much but i will be a simon defender till the day i die. i can see both wille’s and simon’s POVs for how they acted but idk as poor POC simon’s actions resonate more with me. regardless, the reason why i say this is because i always see so much more wille support/simon hate online than i do vice versa. im not asking for wille hate but im asking for prepubescent girls to stop supporting wille simply because he’s an attractive white boy. i dont know—maybe im oversimplifying things but what do you think about the split between simom defenders and wille defenders?

I get it. It's not fair but I get it.

Why?

Because Simon is all of us.

I might be able to identify more with Wilhelm when it comes to many things, his personality, his anxiety, his temper... but in essence every single one of us will always have more in common with Simon than with Wilhelm.

It doesn't matter how different our lives, upbringings and the small everyday things which shaped and defined us are from Simon's. It doesn't matter how much I see my younger self reflected in Wilhelm, how much I can relate to his struggles (I mean it does, but for this specific argument it doesn't). My life will still always be closer to Simon's than to Wilhelm's.

We are Simon. Simon fucks up. Simon makes mistakes. Far reaching mistakes, and it's always easier to be self-critical and insecure than not to.

I'm Simon. But I wouldn't have done xyz! (I wouldn't, I'd either have done something worse or nothing at all, which might just be worse still.)

Simon is a teen and he makes teen mistakes. Sometimes understandable ones, sometimes stupid ones, sometimes crazy ones.

It's normal. It's relatable, it's every one of us but different. Of course it's easier to be critical of Simon. To 'hate on' Simon. He is us, but he doesn't always act like we would, nor does he act like the idealized version of the beloved character we want him to be.

He's a teenager and he's flawed and he's human. We love him and we want him to be perfect but he isn't. Of course there's Simon 'hate'. It's not okay, but I get it.

Simon is us, but he makes mistakes we, however unconsciously, think we wouldn't. We think we would do better, or at least we hope so, and so we criticize him.

It's not right, but I also get the urge to do so even if I don't approve.

Wilhelm however? Wilhelm is different.

Wilhelm is a prince. Worse, he's a crown prince and future king. He's His Royal Highness The Crown Prince of Sweden, Duke of Some Historical Province or Another.

His entire existence causes a knee-jerk reaction of defensiveness. At least it does in me.

Him being a minor who didn't choose who he was born as helps, but it's not enough. Yes, his life isn't easy. Yes he's living with pressure none of us can understand. Not the irl crown princess and not rwrb's Henry.

But he also has power and privilege and wealth the likes of which we'll never truly be able to comprehend. No matter what he chooses to do once he's an adult, he'll always have that.

Wilhelm's entire existence is a reflection of most of what's wrong with this world. I cannot in good conscience root for him and I shouldn't like him. We shouldn't romanticize and glorify royalty, not even fictional one, because all their wealth, power and privilege is built on our backs and sustained by our backs.

I should hate him, not feel sorry for him. I shouldn't empathize with him.

And yet Wille is my bb and my fav and I love him and he never did anything wrong in his life. Not ever. Wille is perfect. He deserves the world and I'll defend him and his wrongs to the very end of it and damn everything and everyone else.

Why?

Because if I start to acknowledge, in all seriousness, that any of his mistakes or wrongs are in fact mistakes and deserve (more) consequences, no matter if it's the fact that he's an objectively bad friend to Felice (I'm already getting super defensive typing these words because Wilhelm, my poor bb, had reasons and deserves to be selfish!) or that you never, ever point any gun at anyone, not ever, or any of his other numerous mistakes, then I'm opening up a Pandora's box I cannot close again.

Yes, he's a teenager and he's flawed and he's human. Yes, he makes stupid, far reaching mistakes. Yes, it's everyone else who hands him his power and privilege. Yes, it's all inherited, as is his wealth, but that doesn't make it alright.

You cannot, in good conscience, root for Wilhelm without also acknowledging or at least being aware of the inherent power dynamics at play, and I'm not only talking about Wilhelm and Simon's relationship, but Wilhelm and everyone, including his mother and the royal court and the entire government.

All three need Wilhelm more than he needs them, and once he fully realizes that he's going to be (even more of) a menace.

Wilhelm doesn't have any political power on paper, but that doesn't mean that his actions can't influence and control the entire Swedish legislature for years. That can be good, sure, at least in the long term, but it'll also take away from much needed other laws etc being discussed and passed, ones which would better the lives of many Swedes directly and immediately. That is scary, because it's real, or it could be.

Wilhelm is a minor and Young Royals is captivating, fictional escapism. But my ardent republican heart (of the non US kind) still struggles with not getting immediately defensive when talking about my love for Wilhelm, because Young Royals is also so real and realistic and a reflection of so many things which are still extremely problematic in our oh so progressive, look at how much worse all the other countries are, can't you be happy with what you've got? part of the world in ways many other shows aren't, and Wilhelm and his rank and title and entire existence are at the heart of it.

The biggest 'problem' Young Royals has is that despite the premise, it is so realistic and relatable and well done. It's almost impossible to escape into the fiction of it to a degree where you can solely focus on the cute boys falling in love and the romantic tragedy of their struggles, without also being at the very least peripherally aware of our reality being reflected in every scene.

Young Royals is romantic and hot and heart-wrenching, but it also criticizes the system and society and shows us exactly how little people like Simon, people like us, matter to the upper class, and it does so from the very first episode in which Simon tries his best to stay strong and tells everyone exactly who the country's biggest welfare receivers are. And he's right.

Simon deserves our defense, our support. But I don't feel the need to. I should, because Simon is not as strong as he wants to be, but he's also a normal teen and nothing is easier than looking down on teenagers and people we can identify with or have things in common with. We all do it all the time, willingly or not, consciously or not, thinking we're better, that we'd do better, no matter how much we love them, because not doing so would mean acknowledging our own faults and flaws, would mean we'd have to admit that Simon is doing the best he can in a way most of us probably wouldn't be able to.

Wilhelm however? I can identify with parts of him despite of everything he stands for and not because, and that is scary, because I don't want to have anything in common with a future hereditary head of state.

I don't want to sympathize with royalty, with people who can control others around them with nothing but words, worse their mere existence. People who, were I to address them in anything other than the third person and with a title, would consider me to be the rude one, as would everyone around us.

And yet I do. I do identify with Wilhelm. I sympathize with him. I think I understand him, but scratching the surface of that is dangerous, because no matter how much we need escapism in these hard times romanticizing royalty, sympathizing with them and thinking they're just like us is not only tricky but dangerous.

It's what the elites want, all of them, while they laugh at our plight and profit off of our hard work. It's what gets horrible people elected president and billionaires turned into cool, dudebro heroes. It's a slippery slope and none of them are the exception, no matter how much they try to convince us otherwise.

Of course we get defensive, of course we're so passionate to highlight that Wilhelm's mistakes are okay and are overly critical of Simon's.

Defending Wilhelm is not rational, it's not logical, and yet it is, which is why I will burn down the world in Wille's defense and serve it to him on a silver platter, because my bb deserves everything and his feelings and struggles are valid and who am I to judge. Wille never did anything wrong.

Finally, I get where you're coming from, but please don't make this about prepubescent girls. Or teenage girls. Being a girl that age is hard. Your body and feelings are changing in ways you don't understand, people suddenly treat you differently. Adults, kids, other teens no matter their gender. You are sexualized, and your intelligence and skills are suddenly only of secondary importance at best. It's scary, and even when it's good it's not safe. You always need to be wary and careful lest you have to pay a price for your joyful inattentiveness, a potentially traumatic, life changing price. Being a prepubescent and teenage girl is also wonderful and freeing and eye opening in the best way, but anything you do or say will always be reduced to silly teenage girl, even by other teenage girls, someone to be made fun of and not taken seriously, when in truth nothing requires more strength and tenacity than surviving as a prepubescent and teenage girl. So if fixating on attractive, unattainable white boys helps? Let them and don't judge, no matter your age or gender. It's not perfect, but it's safe. More, it's a safe way to explore your budding sexuality and bond with others along the way, something which is so important when nothing about being a girl that age ever feels safe, not even when you think you can do anything and know everything. That attractive, unattainable (white) boy? Be it Wilhelm or the current boygroup heartthrob of choice? He is going to reveal private things about himself (most likely made up, but that doesn't invalidate how finding out those facts makes you feel) without demanding a price, you can develop an intense parasocial relationship with him and learn and grow from it, it can help you in many ways which aren't obvious at first (I still keep up with my teenage boygroup and listen to every one of their new albums even though it's been twenty years and I've had musical anhedonia for almost as long), and he will never, ever grope you or insult you or make you feel awkward and insecure, nor will he ever pressure you to do something you're not ready for (unless it's to spend money you don't have on useless stuff you desperately need). Please don't be condescending or judgmental of prepubescent girls, especially ones having to grow up in the age of social media and smartphones everywhere. Fixating on the attractive white boy is a matter of self-defense. It doesn't mean they aren't aware of what they're doing or that doing so isn't ideal. They know. Everyone is constantly telling them and making them feel guilty about it. Please don't be one of them.

[servantofthefates]

Taurus, you will finally get the gold. But first, you might fucking get hurt.

With Jupiter, the Lord of Abundance, entering your sign, everyone’s telling you that victory and glory will fall upon you overnight.

Modern astrologers. They tend to oversimplify.

I’m not here to scare you. I’m a Taurus Rising too.

But reality is always better than rose-colored glasses that could break into pieces, with the shards hurling straight into your eyeballs.

Yes, Jupiter is the most expansive cosmic entity, endowing positivity and prosperity upon the homes he visits.

But he is also the god of storms, lightning and thunder. Not of lollipops, kittens and milkshakes. You know what they say. The rainbow comes after the rain.

Jupiter is just about to leave Aries, having already left his impact in their lives. Let me tell you what some Arians I know went through, so you can get a better clue.

Someone’s father got killed in a car accident. A death so abrupt, so violent. This Arian’s soul was crushed. Only to find out a few days later that while his dad loved him deeply, that man hated the rest of the family. He secretly abused his wife and daughters for decades. Suddenly, his father’s passing becomes his greatest blessing. Now, his mom and sisters are saved from evil.

Another Arian was fired. Effective immediately. Shamefully escorted out by security. But after having wailed for a few nights… she realized she’s free. The thing is, she despised that goddamn job. Her dream has always been to open a salon. But because her shiny salary gave her financial stability, she put her passion to sleep for too long. Now, it’s awake again. Now she’s alive again.

Lastly, this Aries Ascendant learned that the love of his life — a former flame — is getting married. He was the epitome of agony. Till a few months later, when he found out that the newlyweds could not have kids because his ex is infertile. Dodged a bullet. Because even more than her, what he wishes for in life are cute little babies with blue eyes like his. And as things happen in stuff like Netflix films, he soon after bumped into someone whom he thinks is the one.

So hope for the best, but prepare for the worst... knowing that the worst will turn back into the best after it’s had a bit of rest.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Demogorgon Dinner

pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

genre: follows show plot lines, will diverge (come on, we know at this point)

WC: 8.3K

warnings: cursing, steve’s terrible girl advice, possibly getting eaten by monsters, jonathan being a bad older brother this chapter. that is it!

summary: Demodogs are now a thing. Also someone lives and someone dies.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

series masterlist

thank you to @alecmores for triple checking my work💕

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The three of you have been walking down the old train tracks for over two hours now, throwing chunks of meat onto the ground and listening to the woods. You walked in front of the boys since Steve said, and you quote, “I want to keep an eye on you and the kid,” and he was very insistent on the matter.

So you’ve been zoning out and mindlessly throwing meat, none of you starting a conversation. Not until an hour and a half in and Steve asks Dustin a question, “So, how did you find this thing?”

“Demogorgon,” you added.

“It might be a baby Demogorgon,” Dustin argued.

“Whatever, Demogorgon, baby gorgon, who cares. How did you find one and why did you keep it?”

The crunching of the autumn leaves beneath everyone’s feet filled the silent void as you and Steve waited for Dustin to give his answer. You can tell he was hesitating in his reply.

“I found it in my trash when I came home on Halloween. And I kept it…because of a girl,” he rushed the last bit out.

You had to stop in your tracks and turn around at the boy on trial. He halted in his steps when he was close to running into you. A pinch of his brows along with the confused look gracing his face showed he didn’t know why you stopped walking.

“So you’re telling me that you kept a dangerous creature because you thought a girl might be impressed?” You didn’t mean to hold anger in your tone.

Dustin shrunk into himself a bit, “ye-yeah,” he replied in a stutter.

“Dustin, two things. One, you have already been told to not take home wild animals, and two why didn’t you tell anyone, like Hopper for example.”

“To your questions, one: I did tell the party and Max.”

“Who’s Max?” Steve butted in. You also wanted to know, but that wasn’t important right now.

“And two,” he raised his voice, “I didn’t realize what he was at the time, not until he got bigger, and oh yeah! Ate my cat!”

“All right, so, let me get this straight.” Steve’s voice stopped your heated conversation, “you kept something you knew was probably dangerous to impress a girl who…who you just met?”

“All right, that’s grossly oversimplifying things.”

You separated yourself from the close distance formed between you and Dustin. The three of you went back to throwing meat and walking, wanting to continue this topic, but needing to get your task done by sunset. Then you remembered Dustin mentioning a girl named Max, and immediately thought of mad max at the arcade.

“Is Max the girl you just met? Also, is she mad max from the arcade?” “What’s a mad max?” “Someone at the arcade who beat all of Dustin’s high scores.”

Dustin huffed, “yes, Max is mad max.”

“Ah, so you like a girl who’s better at games,” you joked.

Before Dustin could answer Steve asked your earlier question, “Why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?”

“An interdimensional slug? Because it’s awesome.”

“It’s not Dustin,” you argued.

“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t, I…I just…” Steve sighed, “I don’t know. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard.”

You took a glance over your shoulder and smiled at the sight before you, Dustin and Steve standing beside each other. Steve trying to help Dustin with his girl problems, it’s like they were suddenly friends.

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?” Dustin muttered.

‘God, you wanted to run your fingers through those strands one day’

“It’s not about the hair, man.”

“Oh, then do tell us the actual reason you score girls, Harrington,” you teased.

“The key, Byers, with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

“Even if you do?” Dustin was confused, you were too.

“Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts.”

You had to stop this before Dustin got the wrong idea, “oh, so ignoring girls is your advice?”

“That’s not- no not ignoring just not caring.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, then what?”

“You just wait until, uh….until you feel it.”

You were seriously contemplating throwing meat at Steve’s face right now.

“Feel what?” Dustin inquired.

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh…electricity, you know?”

“Steve, what the hell are you trying to implant into Dustin?”

“What, I’m just trying-”

“So, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere-” Dustin was using science as his guide.

Steve stopped him, “no, no, no, no, no. Like a… Like a sexual electricity. You feel that and then make your move.”

You stopped walking at this point, completely flabbergasted by what Steve was ‘teaching’ Dustin, “Steve, you can’t tell a thirteen-year-old about ‘sexual electricity’.”

“So, that’s when you kiss her?”

You threw your hands at Dustin after his question, “My point proven. He’s gonna do something stupid because of your terrible advice.” You turned to Dustin as he was quiet during your rant, “Dustin, don’t ignore girls.” “I didn’t say-” you cut Steve off with a hand to his face.

“Don’t ignore or act like you don’t care. Girls don’t like that. Show genuine interest in her, in things she likes. Try and make her feel like she’s the only girl in the world.”

“Okay, sure, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a…I don’t know, like a lion.” Steve was going back to his way of advice to Dustin, it just made you roll your eyes and went back to walking and throwing meat. “But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a…like a ninja.”

“What type is Nancy?”

Your blood ran cold. Wishing you could run further down the tracks away from the boys, or regret leaving your cassette player at home, you could be listening to ABBA right now! But, no. You were stuck listening to the boy you like talk about his girl- sorry, ex-girlfriend, to give Dustin terrible dating advice.

“Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.”

The twist to the knife was hard. Like the hand was taunting you, playing sick games so when it unexpectedly twisted and dug deeper, it would steal the breath from your lungs. 

You pretend to not hear their whispers, you didn’t want to talk anyway. So you just threw cubes of meat beside you and zoned out, trying to think of a happy memory or remember how one of the million songs you love started.

“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

“But this girl’s special, too, you know. It’s just, like, something about her. Kinda like (Y/n).”

Your ears perked at your name, but you showed no sign that you caught it. You wished that Steve said something similar to how he described Nancy, but he didn’t.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey.”

“What?”

A look over your shoulder showed they stopped walking and were just facing each other now. You walked a bit further, close enough where you could faintly hear their voices still, but enough space for you.

“You’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?” “What, (Y/n), ha, no,” you blushed at the nervous tone lacing Dustin’s words.

“What, no doofus, this new girl…Max.”

“Oh, uh, no. No,” he still seemed hesitant in his words.

“Okay, good. Don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit.”

You could hear the tiny infliction of hurt, how Steve is quietly telling you and Dustin that he fell deeply in love with Nancy, and all he got back in return, instead of an I love you, was his heart broken by her silence and drunken words.

You turned to look at the duo, Dustin with his head down and Steve who was looking at different points of contact. He would be looking at the ground or he would tilt his head to sneak a glance at Dustin’s quiet face, or he would end up making eye contact with you as you waited for them to catch up to you.

You saw him lick his lips and seemed hesitant in saying something, but spoke anyway, “Fabergé.”

“What?” Dustin asked for the two of you.

Steve pointed a gloved hand at his hair, “It’s Fabergé Organics,” an amused smile appeared upon your lips.

“Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair’s damp…it’s not wet, okay? When it’s damp…”

“Damp.”

Bemused by the new topic and Steve now being serious about his hair products and routine, along with Dustin listening to his instructions, you let the earlier conversations slip from your mind.

“You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray.”

You had to hide the snort that left your nose, “Farrah Fawcett spray?” Dustin’s voice filled with amusement.

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?” Steve was pointing a finger at him while he was holding meat.

“What about (Y/n)? She’s also here and probably heard this whole conversation.”

You stayed forward, not wanting to be involved.

“I know (Y/n) can keep secrets. So, do you understand? You blab and you’re dead.”

“Fine, okay. I won’t tell.”

And you heard their feet moving again, pieces of meat falling onto the tracks and dead leaves.

“Farrah Fawcett, really?” You had to ask.

Steve shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, she’s hot.”

“Yeah,” Dustin replied.

You turned back around and had to give it to Steve.

‘Yeah, she’s hot’

…

It was now probably five in the afternoon when your trio arrived at the abandoned junkyard. Steve pulled his black ray bans from his backpack, sliding them on to protect his eyes, and then, suddenly, a second pair came into your field of vision. You looked at Steve with a confused brow and he waved them.

“I had an extra pair in the glove compartment.”

A silent thank you passed when you took the glasses and slid them onto your nose bridge. You turned to Steve, a smile adorning his lips. “They look good.”

“I’ll try not to steal them.”

“Nah, you can have them.”

It’s stupid how your heart thumps during this simple conversation about ray bans.

“If you two can pay attention,” Dustin’s voice interrupted. You can tell Steve rolled his eyes under the dark lenses.

“This is a good spot, Dustin,” you clapped his shoulder in excitement.

“Yeah, this is pretty good. This will do just fine,” Steve agreed as he walked off.

You could see the wide grin on Dustin’s face when Steve called out, “Good call dude.”

“Aw, does someone like having an older male friend in their life?” You poked a finger into Dustin’s sides.

He squirmed away from you and swatted your hand away, “Stop being weird,” and he followed after Steve.

A giggle escaped your lips and you just shook your head at Dustin’s display. Seeing Steve and Dustin interacting made you happy, but it was like a bucket of cold water was splashed over your head Carrie style. You don’t know where Will or Jonathan are at this moment, they could be at home now worrying about you, or they could still be out there not thinking about how scared and anxious they are making you. You wished you had a phone or something, but Dustin has his…

“Dustin!” You shouted.

Their two heads shot up when you called for Dustin, your figure running down the slope with the bucket of meat in one hand and the wind brushing the loose strands of hair off your face. Steve stood up from the ground where he and Dustin threw the rest of their meat, his hands coming out to brace your incoming speed.

“Woah, what’s the sudden rush?”

You ignored him, only pushing the bucket into his chest, “Dustin, you have your walkie, right?”

He points at the antenna sticking above his head, “Duh, you think I’m wearing this as a statement?”

You backhanded his shoulder, “Dude, shut up. I need to borrow it.”

“Why?” “ ‘Cause no one was home when we left-” “Wait, Steve spent the night?” a teasing glint to his voice and eyes.

Now Steve smacked him upside the head, “Shut up, dingus.”

“Anyway! There wasn’t anyone home this morning and I wanted to check in, maybe Jonathan got back after we left.”

“Dude, give her the damn walkie.” “Alright! Geez.”

He unplugged the antenna and headset and handed it over with a huff. You didn’t need to tune it.

“Will? Mom? Anyone home?” There was silence on the other side.

You stepped away from the boys wanting a bit of privacy in case those annoying tears appeared. 

“Jonathan? Jonathan, are you home? Anyone, please just answer.”

Again no one spoke and just when you were about to walk back to Dustin it crackled to life, “(Y/n). It’s Jonathan.”

A sigh of relief passed, and you pressed the walkie into your chest as a silent thank you to whomever.

“Oh, thank god. Jonathan, where the hell have you been?”

“I’ll explain later. Where’s mom and Will?”

“They’re not there?” “No, only Bob’s car when we pulled in.”

“Who’s ‘we’, Jonathan,” you noted.

It went dead for almost a minute, you thought the battery suddenly died out on you.

“Uh, it’s me and…Nancy.”

A hand came up to your forehead and rubbed at your temples. While you were worried about Will and Hopper for the past two days, the reason Jonathan left so earlier on Friday was because of Nancy. She had Steve whipped around her finger and already Jonathan is being threaded. You’re not angry at either of them, just really annoyed at this moment.

“Okay, well since you’ve been gone, Will had an episode. So, if he and mom aren’t home you might want to check the lab.”

“Okay, and where are you?” “None of your business.” “(Y/n), come on.”

“I’ll be home late, over and out.” And with that, you turned the walkie off.

You stomped over to Steve and Dustin, your face probably giving off how you felt after the conversation because you noticed the look exchanged between the two, “You okay?” Steve questioned.

“Never better,” a grit to your words.

Steve reached out a hand and before it could touch your arm or wherever it was gonna land, a far-off voice called out.

“I said medium-well!”

Everyone wiped their heads in search of the voice. You were greeted by the sight of Lucas and a new girl beside him. Lucas sent a wave and you happily threw one back in greeting and the duo walked over to your group.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked Dustin.

Dustin not giving a reply the both of you looked at him, and the look on his face broke a piece of your heart. You knew that look on his face, knew the emotions running through his mind and heart. It’s something you saw in the mirror every day, it’s the hurt you felt every time you saw Steve and Nancy together, the two of them happy and infatuated with each other. It’s something you saw in Jonathan’s eyes and sometimes Will’s. It was the look of your heart breaking slowly.

“Okay, right now we need to set up a base inside that bus. So, we need to forfeit it to withstand damage,” and Steve clapped his hands together.

He walked off and pulled the yellow gloves off, pulled the redhead with him, and pointed out stuff, probably giving her instructions. Dustin grabbed Lucas by the arm and dragged him off behind a red car. Throwing off the gloves and dropping them near a pile of trash you walked to Steve and asked what you should do.

“Uh, try to find big pieces of sheet metal to cover the bus.”

A nod of your head and you were off looking for the needed supplies. Walking around the junkyard you found multiple things of sheet metal and dragged them back to the bus. You even found an ax that was in good condition so you left it by the bus as a reminder to grab it.

You and the redhead met at the bus, each with a new sheet of metal.

“I’m (Y/n), Byers. You might have met my little brother, Will.”

“Yeah, we’ve met. I’m Max, Mayfield.”

“Uh, would you happen to be related to Billy Hargrove?” you were just a bit curious since you remember her leaving his car a few days ago.

“He’s- he’s my stepbrother,” she seemed to hate this fact.

A thudding sound resonated throughout the trash, you looked up and saw Steve standing at the trunk of the red car, both Lucas and Dustin standing to look at him. He threw an arm out and pointed in your general direction, probably telling the boys off for not helping. You looked at Max and she was also paying attention before walking off.

And so with an hour and a half left of sunlight, the five of you went to work on setting everything up and ready for the coming danger to come tonight.

…

Once the bus was set up, the meat bait and a line of gasoline ready to go, everyone huddled into the ruined bus. It went Lucas, Max, Dustin, you and then Steve coming behind and shutting the door shut.

Everyone went to different spots inside, you sat near the back and leaned against the side of the bus with your legs stretched in front of you, Max sat behind the ladder and stared at everyone, Steve sat in the middle and flicked the lighter on and off. Dustin was pacing a bit and Lucas went to the roof to stake out the darkened junkyard.

“So, you really fought one of these things before? Both of you?”

You understand where Max is coming from. Moving to a new town and these kids try telling you that a small town like Hawkins is the complete opposite of your ideal image, that an evil lab held experiments and opened a gate to an Upside Down version of your town where interdimensional monsters run around. And that a kid didn’t go missing in the woods, he was on the run for a week trying to stay alive and make it home. You wouldn’t believe them either if you hadn’t experienced it firsthand.

“Yeah, but it was a big Demogorgon, and it was in my house.”

She looked perplexed at the casual air you gave that statement. All Steve did was nod his head and flicked the lighter closed.

“And you’re, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“Shit. Don’t be an idiot. Okay? It wasn’t a bear.”

“Dustin, dude.” You weren’t sure what this sudden attitude towards Max was, but it was pissing you off.

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.” You and Max both shared similar looks of disbelief and shock at this attitude. Max just scoffed at him and got up from her seat, “Geesh. Someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” And she headed up the ladder to join Lucas.

Steve let out a breathy laugh at the display, “That’s good. Just show her you don’t care.”

“Steve, this is why you shouldn’t give that crappy advice. It just pissed her off.”

Dustin stopped his pacing, “I don’t,” he said to Steve.

Steve turned to look at Dustin, “Why are you winking, Steve? Stop.”

“Steve, did you really pull all those girls?” You taunted.

He whipped his head so fast at the question, “Are you insinuating I didn’t?”

“Wow, big word,” a snarky Dustin comment.

You ignored him, “I’m just saying, how were you able to get girls if you ignored them, pretended you didn’t care about them or their interest? It’s a shitty move.” Speaking from a similar experience.

The early days of high school where boys would talk to you at your locker, a charming smile tricking you into their little games being played behind your back. Getting ready for a date someone wanted to take you on, and when you got to wherever they took you, whether it be Lovers Lake, Skull Rock for a ‘picnic’, or a drive-in, they always wanted the same thing. To win a prize and humiliate you. They never got the prize, but you always got humiliated.

“Look I- I didn’t mean for it to sound…”

“Dude you’re just digging yourself into a grave,” Dustin muttered.

You pulled yourself deeper into the bus, trying to curl yourself into a ball at this moment, “Girls want to feel loved, we want to feel appreciated by that special person. Someone who wholeheartedly, and genuinely shows their devoted interest in you. We don’t want to feel like a trophy to be won and then thrown away, life already makes us feel that way,” you whispered in the last part.

“(Y/n)-” Steve’s voice was cut off by the sound of growling from outside.

You jumped to look out the window, Dustin and Steve copying. All you could see was a thick fog covering the junkyard floor.

“You see him?” Dustin asked.

“No,” both you and Steve answered.

“Lucas, what’s going on?” Dustin screamed into the roof.

Lucas told him to hold on and it was quiet for the next minute. The growling coming back telling you it was out there, but just hiding.

“I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock! Ten o’clock!” Lucas yells.

You tried looking in the general direction of ten o’clock, but all you saw was fog and trashed cars. You should probably look into glasses soon.

“I don’t-”

“There,” Steve cut you off.

You left your area of the bus and joined the boys, leaning your right side into Steve’s to try and look for Dart. You could barely make out his shadowed figure.

“What’s he doing?” Dustin inquired.

“I don’t know,” Steve stated. “He’s not taking the bait. Why is he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s sick of cow?” You nervously joke.

Steve backed away from the window, you turned your attention away from Dart and focused on Steve who seemed to be thinking through a stupid plan. Dustin turned around as well, Steve looking between the both of you before turning away and towards the front of the bus.

“Steve? Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin urged.

“Steve-”

He turned around and threw the lighter at you, “Just get ready.”

“What? Steve, no, please. Please don’t-” you pleaded with him.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” And he left the bus.

You and Dustin rushed back to the windows of the bus, watching as Steve slowly walked further into the lion’s den with only a nail-studded bat as protection. He swung the bat low, parting the fog layer. His back was hunched over a bit and his head was whipping all around, trying to keep a close eye on any movement. As he got further in he raised the bat at shoulder level, his steps still slow, waiting for any action. He let out a low whistle to alert Dart of his presence since he wasn’t taking the meat anymore.

“What’s he doing?” Max questioned as she came down the ladder.

“Expanding the menu.” You smacked Dustin’s shoulder, “That’s not funny.” Now the three of you watched as he stood right in front of the meat pile, his feet constantly moving. The bat held steady in front of him, keeping his defense up.

“He’s insane.”

“He’s awesome.” “No, he’s insane and stupid for going alone,” so you smacked the lighter into Dustin’s chest and grabbed your new ax.

“Seriously?” “Just be ready,” you mirrored Steve’s words.

As you exited the bus you kept an eye out, not knowing if Dart was the only one here tonight. And your question was answered when Lucas shouted, “Steve, watch out! Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”

And sure enough, there were not one, but two new Demogorgons stalking closer to Steve. You walked a bit closer to be near Steve, not wanting him to be their dinner.

“Steve! Abort! Abort!” Dustin cried from the open bus. 

“Steve!” You yelled.

He turned around at you and Dustin shouting for him then turned back to Dart just as he rushed forward along with one of the others. He rolled out of the way in time, falling onto the hood of a nearby car and landing on his feet, able to hit one of the creatures.

“Steve, run!” “Steve, hurry!” They continued to shout.

You swung at one of the three animals that were close to you, trying to keep a distance from the both of you as you ran back to the bus. Steve grabbed your hand as he ran by and pulled you with him, the two of you having to outrun the four-legged animals. Steve pushed you into the open doors first then came in behind and Dustin shut the doors, a Demogorgon running into it.

“Shit!” Lucas and Dustin wailed.

“Are they rabid or something?”

Steve pulled some metal from the front window to reinforce the door.

“They can’t get in! They can’t!” “You think we don’t know that Lucas!” You shrieked.

Now all of them were throwing themselves against the bus, shaking it around like an earthquake. You all screamed in terror, Steve keeping his feet against the metal on the door. You gripped Steve’s arm then suddenly one of them got through the door. You reached for your ax as Steve started to hammer at it with his bat, the kids rushing to the back. Dustin began to call for backup again, “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God! Anyone!”

“I don’t think God’s gonna help us!” You babbled.

“We’re at the old junkyard, and we are going to die!”

Steve kept batting at the door, their claws seeping into the cracks. They left a dent in the back from their impact. You looked up at the roof when you started hearing the metal bending from the weight. Max was standing right under an opening and started to scream. You threw her out of the way and saw it, a Demogorgon looking into the bus. You held your ax up, ready to defend the kids and yourself, but you didn’t need to. Because suddenly it perked its head up and then ran off.

“What just happened?” Max whispered.

No one had the energy to answer that question. The five of you are just waiting to see if they’ll come back. When it sounded quiet, not a single growl was heard. You all made your way outside the bus. Steve stepped out first, a loud banging sound caught you off guard, “jeez.” He had his bat at the ready and you held the ax low, but neither of you saw anything out there.

“Did Steve scare ‘em off?” Dustin questioned. “No, no way.” He turned to the four of you, “they’re going somewhere.”

It clicked, “the lab.” A tremble to your voice.

…

“You’re positive that was Dart?” “Yes. He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“He was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.”

Dustin and Lucas’ argument lasted for five minutes now, while the five of you walked on the tracks in the direction of the lab.

“Malted?” Steve asked, mispronouncing the word.

“No, molted. He shed his old skin to make room for growth,” you explained.

The sun’s warmth was replaced with the cool night air, along with the goosebump feeling on your arms that something could be watching you in the thick tree line. The two boys walked ahead of everyone, whispering sometimes or loudly voicing their opinion. Steve walked in the middle, his eyes moving between the boys to look at the woods or taking a glance over his shoulder to make sure you and Max were keeping up. Max seemed a bit quieter after the demodog incident earlier, which you fully understand. She kept thinking the four of you were crazy or pulling a bad prank on her, she kept insisting it was just a large animal. But once she saw it directly in front of her, ready to attack and eat her, you knew she came to the full realization.

So, when you all packed up and headed off to the lab, you stayed behind to keep her company.

“Are you… are you okay?” you knew it was a stupid question, but you felt the need to ask.

Her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her green Adidas zip-up, hair tucked behind her ears, but falling over her shoulders. She would scuff her sneakers into the dirt and leaves, her shoulders hunched close to her ears. She was very quiet, but you wanted to know what she was thinking, so you would give her time to answer.

“I… You said you fought one before?”

“Uh, yeah. Last year, it kinda destroyed my house a bit. But there was only one at the time and it was full grown. Steve was there too.”

You saw her take a look in the boys' direction, and you do the same. You saw Lucas and Dustin walking side by side and Steve was walking close behind, his head bent forward.

“He was- Steve was courageous tonight and even the first time. Saved my older brother from getting killed,” you added for Max.

She was quiet again, and you waited a bit to see if she would have something to say. When she did, she seemed hesitant in her words.

“How are you- how are you so…calm about this? You almost got attacked, we all almost got hurt. Those things… they wanted to kill us.”

You processed your thoughts for a moment, “I- I think it’s my coping mechanism. I have past trauma about something else, and it’s either I make jokes out of it or I…I choose to be in denial. And I think over the last year… I slowly came to terms with certain things. I still hate all this, I wish it would go away for good, but at least I have people I can go to. Plus I have to protect you kids, always doing stupid shit on your own.” You nudged her shoulder for the last part, a smile gracing her once solemn face.

The two of you went back to walking in silence, well silence of the conversation. The boys and nature-filled in the empty void. Your hands kept a bit of warmth in the back pockets of your jeans, your feet getting colder by the minute.

You thought back on your conversation between you and Jonathan earlier, you regret getting upset at him. He deserves to do his own thing, he had to take care of everyone else and last year was no exception. You just wished he told you, he knows you don’t like being thrown to the wolves, being left to hold the fort without any backup. But that’s something you can’t dwell on any longer, right now you just need to get to the lab and find Will.

“Wait, a cat?”

Suddenly the boys all stopped in their tracks, Steve ahead of everyone with Lucas facing Dustin. You and Max halted to a stop before running into them. Lucas looked confused by whatever was said before, you weren’t paying close attention to their conversations.

“Dart ate a cat?” Oh, Steve might have said something.

“No, what? No,” Dustin was doing a bad job of saving face.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews.” 

You and Max were both confused, “Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max questioned. “It’s Dustin’s cat,” Steve confirmed.

You turned to Dustin just as he turned to look at Steve, “Your cat’s name was Mews?” “Steve!” Dustin shouted at his friend.

Lucas shoved at Dustin’s shoulder in anger, “I knew it! You kept him!”

“No!” Dustin shouted.

“No?”

“No, I…No, I…” you, Steve, and Max were watching the two boys, Dustin failing to think of something.

He finally gave up, “He missed me. He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit!” Lucas blurted, and you saw Steve barely flinch at the word.

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?” “Guys, who cares?” Max voiced, “we have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas yelled to Max then faced Dustin, “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” Now Dustin was yelling at Lucas.

“What?”

You stole a glance at Steve, he was exasperated by this whole conversation, and honestly, you were getting there as well. Then suddenly Dustin shined his flashlight directly into Max’s face.

“Dude,” you threw a hand out to drop the light.

“You told a stranger the truth!”

She scoffed at his remark, “a stranger?”

“You wanted to tell her, too!” Lucas commented.

“Yeah, but I didn’t, Lucas, okay? I didn’t tell her!”

Then suddenly you could hear screeching in the distance, Steve hearing as well with his head following in your direction. The kid's argument is drowned out by the loud rushing of blood passing your eardrums, your heart beating quicker. Steve walked forward a bit, his light shining into the blackout forest. You followed a step behind, a light tremble coming into your hands making the light shake. The sudden weight on your wrist distracted you from the faint screeching and instead focused on the feel and warmth of Steve’s hand circling your wrist.

“Guys?” Steve tried to call the kids.

They kept yelling at each other, to focus on their conversation. You kept your eyes forward while Steve twisted to face them and yelled out for them again, this time louder, “Guys!”

Their talking stopped and another wave of screeching could be heard. Your breathing was picking up, worried for your family if they were inside the lab right now. You started to flick at your nails with the hand that was held in Steve’s grasp.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet, only for you.

You didn’t turn your head, wanting to keep an eye on the forest, scared of any tricks it could play when you were caught off guard. Your fingers stopped flicking at your nails when Steve’s hand slid from your wrist, slotting his fingers between yours. Your breath caught in your throat, and the pressure of a squeeze from him released it. You wanted to look at him but didn’t dare.

He began walking forward, further into the woods, his grasp pulling you behind him. Then the kids followed, but you could hear Max protesting. The four of you, the horror movie protagonist that walks toward the suspicious noise, you’ll either die or make it to the final act.

…

Your group trekked through the woods, your feet slipping in the wet spots at times, but Steve’s hold on your hand saved you from eating dirt. He held your hand the whole time, you could feel the kids' eyes watching, but you ignored them. You wanted to savor this moment for however long it was gonna last. When the five of you reached a clearing that looked over most of Hawkins, Steve slipped his hand free, you already missed the warmth and comfort.

Everything was completely dark and a little fog covered most of your view. Only the distant yellow color of lights allowed you to see where a building was located.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mentioned.

“It’s dark, Dustin, obviously you can’t see him,” you mouthed.

Lucas pulled his binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the area.

“Can you see the lab?” You asked him.

It took a moment, but then he answered, “Yeah, and it looks to be completely dark.” “Dark? What- What do you mean dark?”

“I mean, there isn’t a single light on. It might be a blackout.”

You spared Steve a look, “I don’t like that, they could be on lockdown because of something.” You wrung your hands together. “(Y/n), everything is fine,” Steve was trying to comfort you, “I’m sure it’s nothing. We’ll head that way and check it out, okay?”

You glance in the general area where the lab was located then back to your group, Max looking at you and Steve while Dustin and Lucas look at each other and then to you. So, you nodded your head and started to walk off back into the woods, the other four following just behind you.

…

“(Y/n)!” His voice called out, you ignored it.

“(Y/n)!” His voice was closer this time, but you still ignored him and continued forward.

‘You needed to get to the lab.’ ‘You had to make sure your family was safe.’ ‘If Hopper, Bob, and Mike were in there as well, you needed to make sure they came out alive.’ ‘You can’t lose anyone, you can’t lose anyone, you can’t-’

“(Y/n),” his hand grasped your wrist again and brought you to a halt.

Steve pulled you into his bubble, the arm he held was close to his chest and in between your two bodies. The tip of your shoes brushed against his in the breath of space separating the two of you. You had tilted your head up just a bit to look at Steve, his taller figure looming over you. His eyes were peering into yours, it felt invasive as if he was trying to search your very mind, but also it was comforting to know he cared enough to worry about you in this instance.

“I know you’re worried about Will and anyone else at the lab, but we need to be careful,” he sighed, “I gotta keep you and the three morons safe.”

You held a fixed gaze on him, noting the pained look slapped across his face. His eyes watching you, zooming over your face, almost in an intimate way. His lips parted and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Steve loosened the hold on your wrist and dropped it free. He used that hand to push it through his hair, a nervous gesture you’ve picked up.

“I- I can’t have another person get killed because of my stupidity,” his hand slapped his outer thigh.

Your heart crushed at the crack in his words. He thought Barb died because of him.

“Steve…Barb didn’t die because of you.”

“Yeah, well… if I didn’t take Nancy up to my room, maybe she would have left with Barb. I- I just…”

You stopped him, a hand automatically caressing his cheek. You just crossed one of your boundaries, but at this moment you didn’t care. Steve needed to know.

“Steve, none of this is your fault, it’s not even Nancy’s fault either. We didn’t know about the Demogorgon yet, how would you have known something this evil was lurking in your backyard?”

He tried to look away from you, you threw another hand and now Steve’s face was being gently held between your two. You need to make sure he gets your message.

“Steve, I want you to listen closely,” his eyes were pleading with your own, “you are not responsible for Barbara’s death, no matter what anyone says, you didn’t kill her. The Demogorgon killed her. And sadly we weren’t able to save her in time.”

“But if I-“

“No, Steve. Just stop, okay, just stop for a moment.”

You slid your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulder and finally, they settled on his upper arms.

“Steve Harrington, you may have been a douchebag that only wanted to get into Nancy’s-“

He scoffed, “Byers.”

“But! But, you are not that type of person anymore. You were helping Dustin with his little problem before I came along, you’re spending a perfectly fine Saturday with me and three kids walking around in the woods on the hunt for baby monsters.”

He chuckled at the sentiment, “I wanted to hang out with you, but I wasn’t expecting we would be doing this.”

You gave a breathy laugh, “Yeah, me either.”

“Look what I’m trying to say, but failing at it is, sometimes these certain events happen no matter what, just so they would lead to a fixed outcome. Maybe even if Barbara didn’t come to your house that night with Nancy, someone else could have gotten killed, or there could be many other scenarios,” your hands flapping around in the air. “The point is, it’s in the past now, and it’s something we can’t change, we can only learn from our mistakes and walk forward.”

You stood with your fist against your hips and legs spread out a bit, it was like a knock-off superhero pose you were giving, for whatever reason. You expected to hear Steve say something along the lines of, “that was good advice” “thank you for getting that information through my thick skull” “(Y/n) Byers, I’m madly-” But all you got from him was the delicate sound of his giggles.

“What’s so funny, Harrington?” Your head tilts in question.

He held a hand to cover his mouth, a finger resting just under his nose, “Ah, it’s- it’s nothing.” “No, come on. You were so quiet just a few seconds ago, now you are giggling about something. Was it my little speech, are you making fun of me?”

He rushed to correct you, “No, no, no. It wasn’t- Thank you for the little pep talk. I appreciated it,” he held his hands out. “It’s just… I remember you used to do that little pose in elementary school,” he pointed a finger to indicate what he meant.

“Oh,” you slouched from the pose, “my mom…she uh- she used to call me her little Wonder Woman, and that was her signature pose. I saw it as a way for me to be her. I imagined I was Wonder Woman, someone who was strong, can hold her own, and protected people from monsters.”

You looked at your feet and whispered, “I’m my family’s Wonder Woman.”

You peeked over at Steve as the both of you went walking again, you talking and he was just silent, his shoulders skimming against your own. His eyes were turned down to the floor, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, wind sweeping through his hair, and his lips held a quaint smile on them.

“Yeah, I- I remember one time,” he was chuckling at the memory, “there was one time at school when- I believe it was Sharon Halloway, she shoved James Barnes in the chest and he fell straight on his ass.”

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny!” “No, I know. But after she shoved him, I saw you, small little (Y/n) Byers storming over to the scene of the crime, standing tall and protective, striking your pose to protect James.” You felt the blood rush to your cheeks because you now remember that memory and also how it ended, “Yeah, but do you also remember how Sharon shoved at my shoulder and I pushed her a bit too hard, also I might have slapped her…” Steve turned his eyes on you, “I had really bad anger problems when I was younger,” you tried to play off.

The two of you walked in silence and it was comforting.

Then Steve nudged your shoulder, “So if you’re Wonder Woman, who am I?”

You looked quizzically at him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, does she have a sidekick or something?”

You pointed a finger at him, “Steve, you may think it’s ‘nerdy’ to like comics, but I will make you read some, mark my words.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Uh, but to answer your question, there is a guy in the comics who helps her.” “And,” he pushed forward.

“Steve Trevor, he’s a fighter pilot,” ‘and a love interest’, but that’s something you won’t add.

Steve grinned at the character, “I think that’s perfect for me.”

“Yeah, completely,” you replied in a lovesick haze.

Again silence filled your bubble for a while.

And then you heard Lucas shout out from somewhere in the dark, “Guys! We’re here!” And the kids walked a bit faster, making you and Steve pick up speed to put yourselves first.

…

You and Steve shined your torches that illuminated a path that led to the road of the lab. As you were getting closer to the clearing you could hear someone shouting, you couldn’t make out what they were saying or if they were even shouting in your direction. Just as you were out of the forest, Steve was in front with the bat in his hands and you were a step behind with your ax in hand as well, Steve stopped in an abrupt halt causing Dustin to slam into your back making you trip over your feet and scramble to grab Steve for support.

“Christ, Dustin.” “Steve? (Y/n)?” The two mystery voices screeched.

You looked away from Dustin and faced the voices of Nancy and Jonathan.

“Nancy?” Steve asked while walking forward.

“Jonathan?” Dustin questioned.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked while marching forward.

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorted as your group headed toward them. “We’re looking for Mike and Will, and (Y/n) said they might be at the lab,” Nancy answered.

You felt eyes on you and you took that opportunity to grab Jonathan by his arm and yank him away from your group. You needed to talk with him anyway.

“(Y/n), why are you with Steve?” You scoffed at Jonathan’s tone, “No, you don’t get to ask questions. Especially if they involve Steve.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “What I want to know is where the hell have you been for the past two days? And why are you doing who knows what with Nancy?” You demanded an answer from him.

He rubbed a hand over his face, “(Y/n), it’s something I can’t talk about right now-” “Oh! Oh, how convenient!” “(Y/n)!” Jonathan all but yelled out your name, “what I want to know right now is why the gates to the lab are closed and why Will is inside.” He threw his arms at the closed gate where his car was stationed in front and the blacked-out lab.

Just before you could say anything the loud sound of screeching could be heard from a close distance. You turned towards your group and they were also looking at the lab, they heard the noises as well. The two of you rushed to the others, Jonathan falling beside Nancy and you beside Steve. Everyone was talking over the other, Dustin trying to explain the situation, Lucas butting in, Max providing unnecessary information. It was too much for you at the moment.

You had to step away from the noise, cover your ears, close your eyes, and hum a song to yourself to not think for just a moment. Voices were too loud, your heart was thumping too hard, your eyes were stinging, and your breathing was both harsh and quick-paced.

It wasn’t until a hand squeezing your shoulder pulled your eyes open and hands away from your ears. You saw Nancy standing beside you, a concerned pull to her brows and worry swimming in her eyes.

“You okay?” Her voice was a whisper.

You rubbed your hands over your face, “ah, just- just overwhelmed.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded at your answer. You looked away from her and at that moment you saw the lights of the lab turn on, floor by floor, the lab had lights again.

“That power’s back,” you muttered, then you turned to the group and said louder, “the power’s back!”

The six of you rushed to the guard's box, Jonathan rushing into it and pushing against the buttons. Everyone else was watching the gate, waiting for it to open. Nothing was happening.

“Let me try,” Dustin sounded impatient, you understood.

The two scuffled a bit, Dustin yelling at Jonathan and then him yelling at the buttons for not opening the gate at his touch. You started to hop on the tips of your toes, needing the stupid gate to open already so they could escape.

After what felt like hours to your racing mind, but was probably only two minutes in real-time, the gate finally opened. You exhaled a sigh of relief and headed to Jonathan’s car before he stopped you.

“What the-” “Just wait here.”

“What? No, I-” “(Y/n)! Just wait!” And with that Jonathan and Nancy hopped in his car and drove into the lion’s den.

You watched in disbelief as his headlights disappeared the further they went. Jonathan just pushed you to the side, but let Nancy go with him. Both your brothers were there and your mom, why couldn’t you go with them?

“Don’t take it personally,” Steve's voiced.

You scoffed, “Don’t- don’t take it personally? Steve, my mom, and my brother are in there. Along with Bob and possibly Hopper, those are people I care about. So I am gonna take it a bit personally when my own brother won’t let me go with them.”

Steve sighed, “(Y/n), he just wants to protect you.”

Again, you scoffed at the statement, “Little late for that,” you muttered.

Before Steve could say anything else, you saw headlights barreling towards the gate and then a horn honking repeatedly. Steve pulled you out the way and you saw the kids running as well to avoid becoming bowling pins. You saw Jonathan’s car rush past without stopping and then you saw Hopper’s truck pull up, you were so relieved at the sight. He stopped the car and waved at the five of you.

“Let’s go.” And Steve reached for the door.

He handed Max the bat and she went in first, then Lucas, and finally Dustin who you handed your ax to. There wasn’t any more room in the back so Steve hopped in the front seat first before pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms tight around your waist as your seatbelt.

With everyone in, Hopper put the car into drive and sped down the dark road like a bat out of hell.

-----------------------

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessxoxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn​ / @ameliabs-world​ / @mayonesavegana​ / @gracella0709​ / @gengen64​ / @alecmores​ / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx​ / @redheadedfangirl​ / @agustdeeyaa​ / @yappydoo​ / @liberhoe​ / @hehehehannahthings / @ladybug0095 / @sweeter-innocence-fics / @j-6o /@voteforevilthoughts /

*a strike means tumblr can’t find your account*

[coffincoitus]

do you guys think jaime and cersei would've still engaged in incest in their early childhood if they were the same sex? I feel like the hypersexualization of female children (framing girls as "soon-to-be-wives" and "soon-to-be-breeders") was partly crucial to that development, so imo it's less likely it would've happened if they were both male (but not necessarily impossible). also that hypersexualization was definitely heterosexual in nature, so it might not have had the same effect if they were both female either. tywin's claustrophobic family-centered obsession would've happened anyway, so there's that. also (and ough I'm oversimplifying it, ik) I believe the incest is psychosexual and goes beyond sexual orientation, so it doesn't really matter (to me) whether they're straight or not. I think if the "right" factors were there, they'd have engaged in it regardless of sexual attraction in a normal/not pathological context. anyway:

I don't have a definitive answer tbh. I just wanna know if others have given this any thought lol

[raccoonfallsharder]

Day 17: Triptych

smut ♡ (day 17 ~ praise kink) 18+ only • Word Count: 5,514 Summary: rocket’s girlfriend is a virgin in three different universes. based on a reader comment ♡♡♡ in three parts smutty foreplay, mostly. minimal editing & very oversimplified “plot”/set-up for each vignette. heavy on the praise kink. use of slut (affectionate). references to exhibitionism and impact play. orgasm delay & overstimulation. no use of [y/n]; minimal editing. i liked this when i wrote it two days ago but i can no longer tell what words mean so if it's no good i deeply apologize (you deserve nice things) ♡ anyway during kinktober we say "fuck everything - including plot.”  ♡

based on day 17 of @flightlessangelwings’ Kinktober 2023 Prompt List banner created by @the-purity-pen ♡♡♡

♡ comics (rosenberg, ewing, etc) ♡

You’re on the ship for cycles before Rocket speaks to you beyond the necessities. It takes him a while to open up to Earthers and he doesn’t know you. Frankly, he doesn’t need more friends - he’s got his hands full with these d’ast flarkin’ idiots already.

But one sleep shift, you just can’t seem to close your eyes, and you find your way into the cockpit. You know he’s been flying the whole time, by himself, and he must be tired. You bring him a mug of coffee, just the way he likes - so hot that the generous amount of milk almost scalds, with just a little bit of sugar - and you sit quietly with him while you sip your own.

♡ comics (skottie young) ♡

Groot has adopted you and honestly, Rocket is more annoyed at the fact that his best friend is always picking up strays than he is annoyed at you. You’re actually not so bad - he’d rather be stuck with you than Star-Lord, for instance. You also seem to get almost as excited as he does about Groot’s wrestling matches - not even because you have any money riding on ‘em, but just because you like Groot so much and you wanna support him or whatever. Your face lights up at those d’ast matches. Rocket doesn’t think he’s ever brought a princess to a match and not had her be annoyed about it, so seeing you all excited and yelling and cheering at them kinda does something to him.

Plus you’re always giving Rocket your big beautiful grins and shining eyes and if he didn’t think it was generally a bad practice to fuck his crewmates, he’d absolutely try to get into your panties. He bets you wear the cutest, most simple ones. Terran cotton, probably - maybe with a little ruffle around the hips. Pale pink, or with a stupid little bow in front. Polka dots, maybe.

Rocket spends a disproportionate amount of time thinking about your panties.

♡ movies (mcu, gunn ) ♡

Rocket’s had a stupid, nonsense want for you since day one, much to his displeasure. At first he tries to crush it down by acting like a jackass. Nothing’ll scare a Terran humie off more quickly than being myself, he thinks bitterly.

But it doesn’t work. You try to give him his space but otherwise, you don’t treat him any differently - don’t look at him any differently. You still make him a cup of coffee when you pour everyone else’s and you still tell him good morning and good night. You still check to see if he needs anything when he’s been flying or fixing things for way too many hours in a row.

He likes you for that even more. He might even be starting to frickin’ love you, which is horrifying.

read more on ao3 ♡ read Day 15: Sunshine ♡ read Day 14: Soft ♡ read Day 13: Proof ♡ read Day 12: Heavy Artillery ♡ read Day 11: Nod for Yes ♡ read Day 9: Practice ♡ read Day 8: Turbulence ♡

@evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @pretty-chips ♡ @suicidalshitstick

[agentravensong]

Sooooooo Book of Webs

alright, let's do it. let's talk about the book of webs by Jesse Kohn (yes it's not capitalized, yes that's important).

i read this book over the summer, having randomly spotted it in the fantasy/sci-fi section of a bookstore and deciding to take my chances with it. the premise, as best i can put it, is that two revolutionaries are trapped in a cave, recounting to each other the story of how they got there. their purpose in this retelling is to try and remember the contents of the book of webs: a book so powerful it can change (and thereby, in their hands, liberate) the world.

the best way to describe the book of webs is that it's Complex with a capital C. if you try to take it as a standard narrative with a solid throughline and a True version of events beneath all the tangents, perspective shifts, hypotheticals and obfuscations, then you'll find it hard to follow and potentially unsatisfying.

rather, it's a maze that you're dropped somewhere in the midst of, a labyrinth with impossible geometry that will, after a long stretch of seeming progress towards an exit, loop back in on itself — just as often as it will defy your expectation that it will loop and instead take you to an entirely new ecosystem. it's meandering. it's heavy and dense. it's absurd.

it's also, when it wants to be, genuinely funny.

the thing is, to try and describe what this book is about, to sum it up in a post, is going against its very nature. because it's a book about the tyranny of meaning.

but, of course, that's oversimplifying it.

it's a book about books, what they mean to people, and how they can change the world.

(ragad fans, this book is for you)

it's about books as doctrines and as active shapers of truth. it's about the intentions they're written with and the ways they expect you to engage with them. really, it's about narratives in the all-encompassing sense of the word, and the myriad people and entities that shape and follow them.

in particular, this book is in large part about the narratives that the state writes (or co-opts) and propagates to sustain itself and its systems, writing reality for all who exist within and beneath it. (the 'state' later being substituted by God, psychologists, an amusement park, a mall, etc.) it's about how a person's expression of even their most personal, creative thoughts is hampered and twisted by the dominant structures of communication and meaning. a book about the inherent political nature of all stories, all ideas.

it's a book about authority and alienation. about how collectives are made up of individuals and individuals are made up of collectives. it's a book that interrogates the idea of the individual. it interrogates the idealization of completeness and cohesion. it's a book where its revolutionary heroes must seek out imperfections — including their own, the rebellions of their bodies ("excretions, tics, bad hair days, and, most importantly, their dreams") — and must tear themselves into pieces in order to triumph over empire.

it's a book about the power and limits of speech, of words, and the impossibility of knowing other people.

and yes, this book is about the tyranny of meaning and truth, but it's also about the desire for meaning and truth. about the longing for understanding. for connection.

it's about how our definitions of those concepts, of our desires, and our understanding of what things we are supposed to desire, are informed and enforced by society; how it contains our very imaginations...

...and what it might take, what it might look like, to exist outside those definitions. to imagine something genuinely new, genuinely liberating, and make it real.

it's about the good that can come from letting yourself be confused. from taking a leap of faith: pulling up the anchor you've set down in safe harbors — or full-on abandoning ship.

from taking yourself apart and reconstructing those parts into something different; something nonhierarchical, noncohesive, unco-optable, ungovernable.

it's a book that interrogates all the things you've taken for granted (in stories), all the structures you've been mentally subsumed by, and posits, instead, actively losing oneself, letting oneself become lost, as a way to freedom.

it's a book that's full of and celebrates such seeming contradictions, because that's how the world is: Complex with a capital C. incomprehensible in scope; ever-changing yet so resistant to change (or so it feels), so difficult to actually fight against.

it's a book about getting caught up in things.

(ragad fans, this book is for you)

or, to put it another way: it's a book. about webs.

i'm going to cut off my rambling there, but i will still include a couple of bonus passages where, upon reading them, i couldn't help but be reminded of some other works that i love:

beginner's guide moment:

and we know the devil moment:

with all that having been said. i figure you, reader, can determine for yourself whether or not you'd be interested in this book. if it does sound like your thing: you know what to do. :)