#someone’s having their comeuppance it seems

[theladyship]

How the turn tables, right?

[bluerosefox]

A Fair Warning

It was only a matter of time, and a long awaited and well deserved comeuppance, when Joker tried to hurt the wrong person or people.

Not everyone was going to play his games like 'Batsy' does. Not everyone will hesitate or let him live should he put his hands on someone to hurt them. Not everyone will believe Arkham could 'fix' him, he just needed more time and help.

No.

This time Joker bit off more than he could chew when he kidnapped the newly hired Arkham psychiatrist Jasmine Fenton (and he had plans, so many plans, for her. With her mixture of Harley's mind and her looks matching Gordon's daughter would sure to cause some chaos and pain in memories) and the girl's visiting sister Danielle 'Ellie' (and did he laugh when he noticed the 'Wayne' adoptive looks the girl had, on the fun he'll have, maybe he'll beat her the way he beat the second Robin just for funzie's, it'll no doubt upset Batman) from Jasmine's apartment.

He had plans to keep the Bats guessing where he was and by the time they reach him it'll be far to late for them to save either of the two girls, he had just sent the little video he taped to the Bats and the police to get the ball rolling...

So...

So why did a shiver run down his spine for the first time in years when they both looked unafraid (it was their eyes that made him shiver, a look of already dead yet somehow alive, something he never seen before. He's seen the light fade from people's eyes before yes, he's even laughed as he watch people desperately cling onto life only for it to fade into nothing as they took a final breath but never have he seen someone, something alive yet dead at the same time before. It, their eyes, held a natural yet unnatural sense as they stared at him, stared at everything that made him Joker and it unnerved him), honestly they looked very bored, and one of them (the youngest of the two, and the one with more of the look of death than life in their eyes) said with a chill tune in their tone.

"Last chance to back out of this Freakshows Reject. You wont like what'll be waiting for you."

The tone alone was enough to send another bone deep chill down Joker's spine.

But instead of listening to his natural instincts, the deep inkling of run blaring at him, Joker merely placed a grin on his face, ignoring the strain he felt from doing so, and said as nastily as he could in order to scare the two girls (BOTH OF THEM STILL LOOKED BORED WITH HIM?!?! Not even a twitch of fear!)

"OH? And pray tell what is awaiting little ol' me hum?"

His mocking question got a wide feral grin from the smaller girl, a grin with sharp teeth and iris eyes beginning to bleed slowly from sky blue to neon green with each second he stared at her and he barely stopped himself from jumping in his spot when Jasmine answered his question.

"Your end."

-x-x-

By the time the Bats get to the warehouse Joker had taken Dr. Jasmine 'Jazz' Fenton and Danielle 'Ellie' Fenton they were prepared for anything and everything to go wrong. As much as they held the tiniest bit of hope that the two young women were still okay they knew better than to really do, this was the Joker that had them after all.

They had manged to narrow down his location much quicker than normal when they gotten Joker's first video and his little 'game' he was setting the Bats on, most locations he gave them were going to be red herrings or traps to keep them busy and it would had worked. Batman and the others would had been searching for hours for even a hint of the clue of where the Joker and his hostages were actually being kept.

It was nearly, not really, a shame all of Joker's plans went to waste when Red Hood had stumbled onto something when scooping out Jasmine's apartment with Red Robin.

You see, not only were they looking for clues at first but something about the apartment Jasmine rented seemed off, Red Robin noticed it first and called in back up encase there was more to oldest Fenton than what they could dig up (oldest daughter of Dr's. Jackson and Madeline Fenton, grew up in a small Illinois town, straight A student and a goal to become a psychologist, has two younger siblings, etc etc) and their suspension raised up more when the moment Red Hood entered the apartment and seemed to freeze for a moment.

Red Hood couldn't really explain it but he said it felt like something was... strange. Not evil bad danger strange but it felt familiar? Like he was a kid again on the streets and had walked into someone else's territory but knew the person wouldn't be too much of a hardass about it as long as he didn't stur up trouble or disrespect. A kind of... as long as you don't fuck around you won't find out feeling.

It was because of this feeling that Jason had manged to stumble across something in the room, his instincts telling him there was more to it, and they had discovered a clunky old custom PDA hidden away in a false floorboard in the office room. Thankfully Red Robin, was there in person because the old thing apparently had a rather ingenious firewall to keep others (aka Hackers) OUT but it did nothing against someone who held the main thing.

But still it took Red Robin almost frying the damn thing to get to open up, turns out the ghost and star stickers on the PDA was a rather large hint of the pass code. Once Red Robin was in the PDA he noticed some rather interesting files, one of them labeled "Gremlin Tracking" with a tiny green blob with red eyes and a green outlined star as the icons.

Curiosity taking a hold on the most curious of the Bats he opened it up, hoping it would need another password, and watched as the screen split into two maps, one was... strange, there was no land marks or anything but the star icon seemed to be right in the middle of wherever it was and the only hint of anything was the name "baby brother" and the map labeled as IR.

The other one showed an above map of Gotham, before zooming into the city, heading towards some abandoned warehouses Red Robin knew of and stopped right at one. This was the green blob icon, the short abbreviation for Gotham in the corner of the map, and the name for the icon was 'baby sister'

Red Robin immediately got onto coms to tell the others of what apparently was a tracker for Jasmine's younger siblings. Some questioned why the young woman had trackers on her siblings, though some of the others snarked back that "oh didn't know keeping trackers on each other wasn't normal. Mind if I loose the one you got on me than?"

After a quick sweep into the warehouses camera feeds, the very few up that could be accessed, done by Oracle they quickly discovered that yes the tracking on the younger girl of the two, Danielle Fenton, was correct and that was where they and Joker were at.

Despite this, Batman decided that in order to make sure Joker didn't have suspicion that they already know his actual location he made sure to send a few of the others to the fake locations.

So here they were now, staking out the warehouse where they could see a few of the Jokers goons walking around and looking for a way into the building without alerting any of them. As they talked low into coms, Robin mentioning a possible way in for Red Robin by how small it was, Red Robin hissing back a "just because you got a growth spurt doesn't mean you can poke fun at my height you little-"

"Wait!" Red Hood suddenly hissed shouted, his tone startling the rest of them and they all turned their heads to him. Batman made a quick and harsh grunt as a way to say "report."

Under his helmet Jason's eyes were wide and wild. He could feel something, something huge was on the rise, like something was out of sight but the energy of it was felt.

And if Jason could feel it from his spot, the Jokers goons all felt the same thing from the way they all dropped their weapons, turned toward the warehouse and looked ready to bolt like scared animals.

Jason opened his mouth to explain but fell silent when the feeling suddenly popped. Whatever was causing the feeling was here and like the calm before the storm he could only watch as the first drop of rain fall.

The next thing they know, was the noise and the screaming.

It was inhuman, a mixture of noise and sounds to hard to explain. The closest they could explain was a thousand voices coming in all at once mixing with radio static that kept changing volume so only few words could be even hinted at, and the angry cawing of crows along with the flapping of their wings as they took flight. The noise was so bad that many who heard it nearly ripped their coms out, or covered their ears. Thankfully it only lasted a few seconds.

Then, the air itself shifted. It felt like the coldest of winter nights and bone chilling shivers ran down their bodies for a moment. The air was suddenly that sharp cold that hurt to breathe sometimes.

The goons surrounding the warehouse fled in fear. Many scrambling to get far, far away from whatever was happening. If they felt even a fraction of what Jason could feel, he could understand. He honestly felt like a small animal cornered by a predator and there was no escape.

Then just as suddenly as it happened, everything shifted again. The noise of Gotham returned to normal, cars honking, a stray cat hissing or a dog barking, police sirens in the distance, hissing steam from a nearby factory. The air went from winter cold to a chill mid winter harbor feel now.

Once everyone registered what had just happened and not wanting to waste anymore time they bolted towards the warehouse, cautious and alert in case they needed to fight. Batman went in first, quickly making his way to the area he knew Joker would be with the Fenton sisters and wondered just what the fuck was that? Did Joker do something? Was he messing with things outside of his usual MO?!

He walked into the room and stopped.

There was nothing.

The room was in fact the room Joker had used to record his first message to them, the layout was correct and the evidence of two people who had been tied up were still there as well, ropes that weren't cut sitting on them, a lone lamp light above shining down from above no doubt to emphasize the two girls were meant to be the 'stars' of Jokers latest show. Thing was, the two weren't there despite the fact Oracle swore she could see them a few mins ago from a camera set up in the room, she would later explain that she heard the noise as well and that all her tech had glitched hard.

The only other thing in the room was, sitting innocently on one of the chairs was a green sticky note and on a tiny pillow was a tiny sickly green orb with hints of purple, white, and red swirling in it.

A note they would later read the following message written on it after carefully examining it over.

'Joker learned not to touch what is mine to protect. Sorry not sorry, but hey one less killer clown and he was warned not my fault he didn't take it seriously... The massive amount of souls wanting to rip apart the Joker's soul into nothing was quite a sight to be honest.

They were so ruthless. Best not mess with the vengeful dead am I right?

PS. I left a tiny gift for Jason Todd aka Robin Two. It's the tiniest piece of Joker's soul left over after everyone else got done. He can finish it off since he's a reverent and all, and well they need their revenge filled in order to peacefully move on later or else they'll be stuck forever in a loop of madness and revenge. So yeah. Hope he likes the gift.'

D.P.'

It took Jason less than a second after those words were spoken out to reach for the orb, ignoring the cautious and alarmed cries of the others, and could feel deep, deep, deep in his own soul the absolute pure weeping joy as he threw the orb onto the floor, the bottom shattering thus it didn't roll away and stomped hard with his reinforced boots. Crushing the broken orb into more pieces and if one listened closely they could hear the pure screaming terror that came from it.

And Jason for the first time in years felt his rage finally leave him.

[fantasywater]

These are the reasons Stolas Horseman still gets dragged for his infidelity even though the circus was supposed to FIX THAT.

This is for Stolas's Western Entergy interpretation and for the fans who agree with it:

Stolas is an adulterer.

No one gets to change the definition of a word just because they don't like it being said about their favorite character.

He's a domestic abuse survivor and an adulterer. Both are true. 

The reason Stolas still gets criticism is because of the execution of how it was written and the Octavia factor.

We were introduced to Stolas and Stella's dynamic with her being pissed that her husband of at least seventeen years cheated on her.

That anger is empathy-inducing to a lot of people because being cheated on, or knowing someone who has, is a relatable experience. It also looks extra disgusting on the one who stepped out when a family is involved.

Even her throwing things at him could be excused because of the context in which it was happening.  

There's a reason why temporary insanity is welcome in legal circles because it gives leeway to the perpetrator in that it asks the question would they have done this awful thing if it wasn't for an extreme mental break forcing them to? 

Stolas's infidelity was that mental break.

Trying to kill him can also fall comfortably under temporary insanity. 

Plus having our protagonists kill innocents as a job also takes the bite out of it. 

It also doesn't help that both Stolas and Stella's voice actors gave their own explanations that pretty much stated what I said above.

Even our first episode was about a cheated-on woman going to extremes, but she was shown in a sympathetic light despite it. 

Yet the very next episode shows the same issue, but because Stolas is a main character we are supposed to fall in line that the adulterer is whose side we should be on. 

Octavia having a mental breakdown(twice now) because of Stolas's infidelity is also not endearing him to the audience.

What he is doing to his child is the biggest reason why his remorseless, continuous, infidelity is not a take-back-my-power move.

The inciting incident for both Stella's recurrent violent anger and death "threats", as well as Octavia's mental breaks, is Stolas's cheating. Therefore what is happening to him now is a consequence of his own actions.

The writing in the problem. We were introduced to a wife and daughter showing anger in different ways because a spouse and father betrayed their family, and yet Viv still expects us to feel sympathetic to Stolas.

In reality, Stolas is the antagonist of Stella, Octavia, and Blitz.

That role was especially blatant in Loolooland.

As for Stella Viv tried to course correct by being heavy-handed in showing her as a cartoonish monster in The Circus. 

However, because of the initial execution of writing her as a scorned wife due to her remorseless, repeatedly cheating husband for a whole season, she has forever poisoned the well for Stolas and she has no one to blame for that but herself.

She is the one who wrote one of her supposedly sympathetic main characters doing Sexual Extortion(Blitz), Adultery(Stella), Mental Break/Child Neglect(Octavia), but then seems to have an issue when a nice chunk of the fandom still thinks only his victims deserve sympathy.

Nevertheless, since the Circus is in the canon now does Stolas owe Stella loyalty and remorse? No. 

However, Stolas is not just a husband. Octavia exists.

Therefore Octavia will always be the reason why his (continuous) infidelity was a selfish and vile act. 

That's also why what's going to happen to him in the leaks is on him.

His karma warranty is up.

The problem is that the karma Viv gives is an illusion because she still wants you to feel sorry for Stolas. That's why there's always a sturdy flavor of demonization in the narrative toward anyone he's harmed to facilitate that.

However, considering the nature of his crimes his comeuppance is deserved, but she still writes like it's not and expects the audience to fall in line.

She also did the same thing with Blitz's issues with him.

So it's a pattern, and it exists because a fujoshi is writing this story. 

It's a failure in the execution when the author's intent and the audience's takeaway is this broken.

[disinherited-dornishman]

I will never forgive HotD for robbing us of the cunning, lethal Criston Cole who assassinated Ser Joffrey Lonmouth legally in front of the entire royal court without consequence by framing it as an accident in a tourney, shattered Harwin Strong in a melee so bad that he was called "Brokenbones" from his nickname "Breakbones", and without hesitation started plotting with his Queen over the corpse of King Viserys. The same one whose words swayed Aegon II over the edge to finally usurp Rhaenyra.

Hell, even Fire and Blood made his character lesser than his first mention. The first time we hear about him is as this obvious foil mention in Jaime's chapter in A Feast For Crows, this enigmatic historical figure with a badass nickname who seemed the lynchpin of a devastating event that killed the dragons, and gods alone know for what reason. Was he embittered against Rhaenyra? Was he duplicitous scum who in his vying for more power embroiled the entire realm in its single most ruinous war? Or did he, like Jaime who too murdered a "dragon", have a noble reason that history never knew? The speculation alone made him one of my favorite characters.

But at least F&B, lesser though it made his character, gave us something alternative. He just turned out to be a vengeful, conservative general who, although extremely competent, got his comeuppance eventually in the field of war, but okay.

Now, the show did something right by making him Dornish, and highlighting his lowborn status, but then they just... went nowhere substantial with it. And then they also turn him into an emotional psycho who accidentally kills Lord Beesbury, while Joffrey Lonmouth is blatantly beaten to death in the middle of a wedding. Like what???

Criston Cole fails upward into becoming the Hand of the King while being given looks of disbelief by Otto rather than coming into the position because of his competence in ruling a wartime realm, much like how Churchill became PM during WW2 to replace the previously incompetent PM (only to lose the position post-war when people realized he wasn't cut out for peacetimes.)

They really could've given us the best of both worlds. A lowborn, Dornish Criston who is still humanized in his struggle to keep to the ideals of honour while feeling inappropriate things for Rhaenyra/Alicent, but who reluctantly (or vengefully) takes to the schemes of the court like fish to water, and who eventually sheds said ideals to fully embraces his role as a Machievellian warlord in order to save the family he's come to love and cherish (the Greens).

But that wouldn't make the writers' favorite protagonist perfect enough, because in their minds, in order to make the most likeable protagonist, they need to be facing someone cartoonishly incompetent/villanous??

I just don't get it...

[penny00dreadful]

Comeuppance - Part 1

Part 2 AO3

It was getting beyond ridiculous now. And if no one else wanted to help, then Dustin would take it upon himself. 

Steve had helped him get his first girlfriend. He’d put his body between Dustin and the demodogs in the tunnels, even though he was half conscious and fully concussed. He’d helped them escape from torture and taken the blows in their place. He’d kept silent about his bites while they strategized in Max’s trailer. 

He’d been with them through almost everything. 

The only thing he’d missed was that first year but even then he was defending Nancy and Jonathan. 

Dustin just wanted his brother to be happy.

And if no one else was going to do it, he’d do it himself.

He’d looked at his mother, how much brighter she used to be before his dad had died all those years ago. 

He looked at Lucas and Max who always had secret smiles for each other. 

He looked at Hopper and Joyce who’d found each other again after years apart, there to support their partner in everything. 

He wanted that for Steve. 

Steve deserved it.

To be happy with someone. 

Maybe Dustin had… breezed through one or two of his mothers romance novels for inspiration, trying to figure out who the perfect candidate for Steve would be. How he could make it happen. What the method might look like. 

With that in mind, he pulled in the rest of the Party who seemed to go along with him more begrudgingly than anything. Maybe they’d just gotten tired of arguing with him.

He’d have to examine later if that was something he needed to work on.

How could he become a world renowned scientist or engineer if he didn’t have anyone who would push back against him?

“Eddie!” Dustin called up towards the roof of the trailer, where he could just about make out the small plumes of smoke curling up against the bright blue sky. “Stop sunbathing, we need your help.”

The sounds of Eddie’s chains and jewellery rattled against the roof, telling Dustin he’d just rolled onto his stomach, allowing his arms to dangle down over the edge as he continued to puff away.

Eddie exhaled the smoke in his lungs and took a haughty tone when he said “A man such as myself would never be caught sunbathing, Henderson. That’s jock shit.” 

Something caught Eddie’s attention behind him. He glanced back and when he turned towards the Party again he had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Did you hear me?” Dustin crossed his arms over his chest like he’d seen Steve do on numerous occasions before, trying to exude the same authority. “I said we need your help.”

“Alright.” Eddie let out a loud exasperated sigh. Dustin could tell he was playing up his irritation, though. “I’ll bite. What do you need my help with?”

Dustin grinned wide, delighted to be able to expound on his plan. “Steve’s love life.”

Something thudded against the roof of the trailer but Eddie didn’t flinch, didn’t turn to see what it was, just continued staring down at them, blank faced.

“What was that noise?” Mike asked, staring up at him.

Eddie shrugged. “Kicked something. Pray tell, why are you coming to little old me for help with Steve’s love life?”

“You two are friends now, right?”

Eddie snorted into his elbow. “I suppose that’s one word for it.” He muttered, barely audible from all the way up there.

“And you’re a guy his own age.” Dustin had to shield his eyes from the sun as he stepped closer. “He’ll listen to you.”

That got a loud laugh from him. “The hell gives you that idea?”

“He’ll listen to you more than he’ll listen to us.”

“You’d be better off asking Robin.” Eddie propped his chin up on his hand. “They’ve got that weird mind meld thing going on.”

Dustin huffed. 

Robin would never hear them out. 

“We can’t ask Robin.”

“Well maybe you should stop meddling, you ever think of that?”

Meddling? What was he, a child? Some evil villain? No. He wouldn’t call what he had planned meddling. He was aiding. He was helping. 

Meddling implied he didn't know what he was doing, which he did. 

He'd researched.

“I’m not meddling. I’m helping. We’re just trying to make the guy happy so what’s the issue? He’s clearly lonely.”

Eddie’s expression hardened. “Clearly lonely, is he? That’s a real charming thing to say about your babysitter, Henderson. Not everyone needs romantic connections in life. He has me, he has Robin. He has Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle. And up until a few seconds ago I would have said he had you all too. But apparently you’re not enough. Because he’s lonely.” He spat out the last word like it had personally offended him.

“He’s been single for so long-”

“Have you considered that maybe he’s happy that way? Or that he already has someone and just hasn’t told you?”

Dustin scoffed, crossing his arms again. 

Eddie just wasn’t getting it. 

“He’d tell me if he had someone.”

“Oh, you think so, do you?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Eddie let his voice drop low. “Because you meddle, Dustin Henderson.”

“Dude, why are you being so defensive right now?” Couldn’t he see that what Dustin was doing was for the best? For everyone? Why did no one seem to want the same things for Steve that he did? “We’re asking for your help to make our friend happy!”

“Why can’t you ask Robin?”

Robin also wouldn’t get it.

“She’s too close to the issue. She won’t be objective. She’ll side with him no matter what.”

“And I won’t?”

“No. Because I know what I’m doing? I’ve researched this? It’s not fucking rocket science. If the idiots in movies and tv can make it happen surely we’ll be able to do it easily.”

The Party was practically a protégé mix of brains. There was no way this could fail.

“Movies and tv.” Eddie muttered to himself like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Jesus Christ.” He tilted his head back behind him for a few moments, listening for something before turning to face them again. “Alright, listen. I’m not agreeing to anything yet but tell me who’s the other person wrapped up in this?”

Dustin finally allowed himself to smile, proud of the clincher he was just about to reveal.

“Nancy.” He said, puffing out his chest and cocking his eyebrow. 

He’d definitely just won this argument.

Except Eddie didn’t smile back at him and immediately agree, like Dustin had been expecting. 

Instead Eddie moved his whole head with an eye roll and groaned. “You can’t be serious. He’s over Nancy. He’s told us all many, many, many times. He doesn’t want a relationship with her.”

Fuck sake. What wasn’t Eddie getting about this? 

That’s just what people said when they were trying to save their hearts or there was some kind of contrived misunderstanding. 

Dustin had seen the way Steve looked at Nancy from the car at the Snow Ball. 

He’d heard the things he said to her in the Winnebago.

“Well, I don’t believe it. There has to be a reason he’s not dating Robin and we all heard the Winnebago talk. They’re meant to be. They’re perfect for each other.”

Eddie pursed his lips but stayed silent for a few seconds, considering. “Okay. And what about Nancy?”

Dustin blinked up at him confused. “What about her?”

“What does she say about this whole thing?”

“We can’t tell her, Eddie. We can’t tell either of them. Obviously.”

“Uh-huh. So Steve’s pining after Nancy, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Is Nancy pining after Steve?”

Dustin opened and closed his mouth, trying to formulate his comeback. He hadn’t really… thought too hard about that. But like… why wouldn’t she want him? 

He was handsome, he was strong, he had money, he wanted kids, he wanted marriage, he was respected around town.

He was the perfect package!

And actually, if Dustin remembered correctly, she’d smiled at Steve during the Winnebago talk so she was receptive at the very least. 

But he didn’t have a chance to articulate his argument because Eddie was barrelling ahead again.

“Oh right, I get it. Nancy doesn’t have any agency in this because the guy should always get the girl no matter her opinion right?”

“No!” That wasn’t what he meant. “It’s not like that-”

“You’re telling me that Nancy Wheeler,” Eddie interrupted, “gun toting, government fighting Nancy Wheeler. The same Nancy Wheeler who is currently working on her exposé of the sexism she experienced at the Hawkins Post, which is due to publish the second she goes to college at Emerson, where she already has an internship lined up, is going to just go along with this? And also, did I forget to mention, she leaves in six weeks? If you do get the two together what’s Steve supposed to do then?”

That was all semantics. 

Once they were together they could work that out between themselves! But Dustin knew Eddie wasn’t going to like that answer so he came up with something else quickly because it wasn’t that hard, because this made sense.

“He could go with her!”

“Oh, so fuck any desires he had, then? He’s just gonna drop everything here and go? Follow her like a lost puppy?”

Dustin rolled his eyes again. “C’mon Eddie, now you’re just being combative for the sake of it.” He placed his hands back on his hips, again trying to exude parental authority. “It’ll be good for him to experience things. What does he even have here to drop? I mean, it’s about time he moved on from this town, right?”

“Henderson.” Eddie snapped in warning. 

There was a moment of pause where they both stared at each other before Eddie rolled back around to face the back of the trailer. He muttered something in low tones that Dustin couldn’t hear and the next second was clambering down off the roof.

He landed far more gracefully than Dustin would have thought he was capable of before stomping over. “Do not let him hear you say that. He’ll think you don’t care whether he’s here or not.”

Dustin threw his arms out at either side of him. How could Steve possibly think that? He was just stating plain facts! “Of course I care!”

“Then act like it!” Eddie threw his own arms out in a similar fashion. “You’re making these decisions without him. What you’re trying to pull is peer pressure, all of you, you understand that right? It’s barely a step away from bullying.”

“Eddie, c’mon.” Mike crossed his arms, unable to meet his eye. “You’re looking at this all wrong. That’s not-”

“Yes it is. You’re all trying to get him to conform to what you think he should do, regardless of how he feels about it.”

Dustin shook his head, looking up at Eddie and imploring him to understand. What they were doing wasn’t malicious. “I just want him to be happy.”

But Eddie wasn’t relenting so Dustin would have to compromise somewhere to make this work.

“I understand that.” Eddie started. “But this isn’t-”

“Listen okay, FINE.” Dustin huffed. He did not stomp his foot. “I swear if you help us I’ll… I’ll stop if it doesn’t work. I swear, I promise if this doesn’t work and we don’t get Steve and Nancy back together I’ll never meddle in his affairs again. Please, I swear.”

Eddie loomed over him, dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothes, intense presence and Dustin was suddenly reminded of why he was intimidated by him when they first met at school. “On your mother?”

He nodded eagerly, hope starting to rise in his chest. “On my mother.”

“Okay.” Eddie sighed. “If it doesn’t work you are to never stick your nose in his business again, you understand me?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Dustin agreed, his mind already planning far ahead. “But you don’t need to worry about it, it’ll work.”

“You’re so sure of that are you?”

“I know him best out of all of us, I know him.” He tried not to let his smugness through, he really did try. But he couldn’t help it. “This’ll work.”

“I think you’re looking at this through little kid lenses and can’t see past the end of your own nose.”

Dustin opened his mouth in offence. “I’m smarter than you, you know.”

“I know but that doesn’t mean you’re a grown up. You're sure you have all the relevant information? You know everything there is to know and there's no way this could go wrong?” Eddie was acting like he knew something Dustin didn't, which just couldn’t be true. He’d planned for all the eventualities. 

“Of course I do.”

“Alright.” Eddie nodded, turning back to his trailer and pulling himself back up onto the roof. “If you’re sure. Now scram, kiddos. I gotta get back to my sunbathing.”

It was all going terribly. 

If Dustin didn’t know any better he’d think that Steve was totally checked out from the romance sphere. And he was acting a little weird. During one of their usual rides to the arcade, he’d told Dustin he was happy, which was great but it had come out of nowhere.

“Okay? I’m glad you’re happy?”

“I mean it though.” Steve drummed his fingers against the wheel. “Where I am in life right now, my friendships, my relationships, I’m happy. I don’t need anything to change. I’m good with how things are.”

Dustin had to think back on what they’d just talked about. 

They’d been speaking about Steve’s most recent trip to Indy. He’d been a little cagey on what he, Eddie and Robin had been doing up there, but that was probably because it was some weird grown-up thing they were doing that they didn’t want Dustin to know about. Like he couldn’t handle it, whatever it was.

There was nothing they’d talked about that might have led to this.

“Right… well thanks for letting me know?”

Steve just nodded at him like it was a job well done and the whole thing was just plain weird.

Things got even weirder when he saw Nancy. She was dropping off some of her old study notes to him and she mentioned that it was a good thing that she was single right now. She’d be going away to college soon and she couldn’t stand the idea of dragging someone away from their home just for her sake.

Dustin stared at her a little bewildered but tried to get her to see reason anyway. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone there with you, though?”

“No,” she answered lightly, “it would probably add more pressure to be honest.”

Dustin didn’t think there was any way that was true. Surely it would be easier to acclimate with someone from home to keep her company.

But despite his numerous attempts to get Nancy and Steve alone together in situations that could easily turn into dates, with soft touches or glittering eyes or whatever else the fucking books talked about, nothing had happened. 

No progress had been made and it was fucking frustrating.

He’d gotten the two of them to sit together, away from the rest of the group at the cinema and they just… watched the movie?

Not once did Steve try to put his arm across the back of Nancy’s seat or take her hand or even whisper to her, getting their faces close together except to nudge her playfully for the popcorn. It was a perfect set up and he was doing nothing with it.

How was Steve so bad at this?

Didn’t he have a reputation in school?

And Eddie was less than helpful. 

Every time Dustin leaned forward in anticipation of something happening between the two of them, Eddie would throw a kernel of popcorn at his head with a childish giggle, watching the scene unfold like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Dustin’s next attempt had fallen flat as well. 

He’d told Nancy that all the older teens were meeting at the diner for dinner together and had gotten Eddie to pass the message onto Steve. Nancy seemed wary initially but relented surprisingly easily, without much of a fight and Dustin was convinced he was getting better at this.

But the Party watched from the bookshop across the street as the two of them chatted amicably and even laughed together a few times but that was it. They didn’t share any food between them, they didn’t feed each other, they didn’t even get the single milkshake with two straws. 

That was a beginner level move!

Dustin was losing his fucking mind, just trying to get those two to do something so he had to go big. 

Again he recruited Eddie to help, out of complete necessity this time. 

Because there was no way Dustin could sneak into The Hideout to see how this plan was shaping up but he was confident that something would happen this time around. 

He told Eddie to do everything within his power to keep the two of them together. 

Alcohol is a social lubricant, it shouldn’t be that hard. 

Eddie had just scrunched his nose in disgust, mouthing 'social lubricant' to himself.

But even that was a lost cause because when Eddie walkied to update him on their progress a little breathless, probably from playing, he said he’d shredded so hard on stage, Steve spent the whole time watching the performance which was the exact opposite of what they were trying to do.

Dustin was nearly ready to lock the two of them in a closet until they got to it, but he wasn’t there. 

Yet.

He had another option up his sleeve.

Which is why he was shocked when Max announced she was pulling out of the whole thing.

“Listen, dipshit. It’s not working.” She’d said, frowning at him.

“It will work! You can’t pull out now!”

“I can and I will. When you come from where I come from you learn pretty quickly to mind your own fucking business if you don’t want a punch in the face and it’s getting there.”

Dustin could do nothing but throw his hands into the air as she stormed off.

It gave him the final push to start ramping things up.

“Eddie, we need you to flirt with Nancy.”

The man in question turned his head slowly and methodically until he was facing Dustin completely, his hand still hovering over the battle map he was prepping.

“Excuse me?”

“If you make Steve jealous, that might be the kick he needs to finally do something.”

“You’re playing with fire here, Henderson. You can’t toy with people’s feelings like that.”

“Who’s toying with feelings? There’ll be no feelings involved.”

“What about Steve’s feelings? What about Nancy’s?”

“You're overthinking this.” These kinds of miscommunications always worked out in the end, come on.

Eddie’s mouth was set in a firm, grim line. 

He looked beyond irritated.

“And there’s no way this could possibly blow up in your face, right?”

Dustin looked at him like he had six heads. 

Why was he the only one who was seeing sense here? This was how things were done. 

He was saved from having to answer by the arrival of Nancy and Mike into the Harrington basement.

Steve barely glanced up at their arrival, just sending a short smile their way, too deep in conversation with Robin about the news or interior design or whatever the fuck grown ups talked about.

Dustin sent a very pointed look Eddie's way who heaved the most put upon sigh, rising from his seat and giving him, the middle finger which he sarcastically reciprocated.

“Hey Nance.” Eddie said, sildling up beside her and oozing charm and charisma. “I'm glad you decided to come today. Don't know what I would've done if I had to go without seeing your pretty face for much longer."

Steve and Robin’s conversation abruptly cut off. 

Robin was blinking up at Eddie from her position on the couch with nothing short of bewilderment and Steve just raised an eyebrow looking almost amused.

God damn it, why was he amused?

Nancy herself looked incredibly confused, flitting her eyes in between Steve and Eddie for just a second before Eddie made some kind of hand gesture that Dustin couldn’t see.

Nancy smiled.

“Just a pretty face?” She asked, batting her eyelashes at him which on its own was weird. Dustin didn’t think he’d ever seen Nancy do that before.

“Oh of course not, Lady Wheeler. Everyone knows you’re more than just a pretty face.”

She reached a hand out, grasping his upper arm in a little squeeze. “Dunno if I could say the same thing about you.”

Eddie clutched at his heart, stumbling back a few steps. “Oh! The Lady Wheeler has wounded me most grievously!”

“Oh, stop it, you.” She swatted at his arm. “You’re still pretty.”

Which… this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Nancy wasn’t supposed to flirt back! 

“Would you care to join us?” Eddie asked, sweeping his arm out towards the table where the rest of the Party had finished setting up. 

Dustin stared open-mouthed. 

Eddie never asked anyone to join unprepared. 

“I’ve heard this arena of play isn’t unfamiliar to you.” He continued, lowering his voice and leaning in close to Nancy but he wasn’t quiet enough to stop Dustin hearing him. “I’ve even heard you used to get into costume for the kiddies. You into a bit of roleplay, Nancy?”

Steve widened his eyes at Eddie and twisted his wrist.

Shit. 

Steve hadn’t won most human on human fights but he could probably take Eddie to the cleaners pretty easily. 

Steve wouldn’t though, right? He wasn’t that kind of guy?

Dustin was, thankfully, proven right when both Steve and Eddie went back to ignoring each other in favour of watching Nancy.

Eddie straightened up and Dustin could see a slight scowl and a glare on Nancy’s face but it was filled with more fond exasperation than outright anger.

Eddie broke away from her with one last wink and took his seat behind the DM screen while Nancy lowered herself down next to Steve and Robin.

“I’m going to pay for that later.” Eddie muttered to himself.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Mike grumbled, thudding his forehead into the table.

“Chill the fuck out, Romeo.” Dustin hissed. “You’re supposed to be making Steve jealous not getting Nancy to actually like you.”

Eddie just shrugged. “I can’t help it if I’m irresistible.”

Time flew by as they all got sucked into the game and Dustin felt his spirits lifting. Steve kept glancing in Eddie’s direction and it gave him hope that their plan had worked. Maybe he was getting jealous if he couldn’t keep his eyes off him over the top of the magazine he was pretending to read.

Dustin’s suspicions were all but confirmed in the next few days as Steve started to slowly mope around every time Eddie shot a wink in Nancy’s direction or made her giggle. 

It was honestly a bit over dramatic the way he’d sigh wistfully towards them or get an honest to god pout on his face.

“This is your chance, dude!” Dustin jumpscared Steve in his kitchen, nearly causing him to spill the popcorn he’d just poured into a large bowl.

“Jesus H. Christ, where the fuck did you come from?” Steve set the bowl down a little louder than he needed to before reaching up to rifle through his cabinets for more snacks.

“Washington.”

“Har har, very funny.”

“I’m serious about this, Steve. Aren’t you jealous seeing Eddie flirting with Nancy all the time? Don’t you want to do something about it?”

"Dunno if I'd call it jealousy." He muttered.

"Come on, you need to like…" Dustin wanted to say 'mark your territory' or something but he was pretty sure if that ever got back to Nancy he'd be six feet deep before he could even blink, so he just mimed a shoving motion.

“You’re not seriously suggesting I punch Eddie for Nancy’s favour are you?”

“No! That’s not what I’m getting at at all, fucking hell. I meant for you to turn on your Harrington Charm I’ve heard so much about! Steal her away from him!”

“I don’t think anyone can ‘steal’ Nancy Wheeler, Henderson.” His tone abruptly shifted from exasperation to something sadder, like he’d flipped a switch. “Besides, what’s the point?" He sighed, like a wistful maiden. "She’s clearly more interested in Eddie than in me.”

“That’s a very defeatist attitude. You haven’t even tried anything yet.”

Steve looked down on him, turning something over in his head before nodding. “Okay. I’ll try. Now help me carry these back inside.”

Dustin happily filled his arms with snacks and followed Steve back out to the living room where the rest of their friends were waiting.

Eddie and Nancy were sitting side by side on the couch, pressed up against each other. Dustin took his seat on the floor along with the rest of the Party, spreading the snacks out in front of him and keeping an eye out as Steve flipped the lights off before making his way over to the two.

“Excuse me there while I just-” Steve lowered himself down, directly in the middle of Eddie and Nancy, practically on their laps until they squirmed away to avoid their legs being crushed under the weight of one muscular jock. 

Eddie was biting his lip in the way he usually did when he was trying not to laugh and Nancy had her hand covering her mouth, maybe in shock. Probably in shock. 

Robin sat next to all of them in an armchair with her hands covering her face, shaking her head and Dustin had to try very hard not to facepalm into the next century. 

God this guy was hopeless.

Steve wiggled a little in place, getting comfortable and placing the popcorn bowl on his lap with a goofy grin. “Are we ready to start?” He asked, plucking the remote from Eddie’s hand and pressing play.

It was only a couple of days later when Dustin’s walkie crackled to life in the dark evening hours.

“Operation White Picket Fence, sound off.” Mike's voice came through.

One by one each member of the Party confirmed they were there, ending with Dustin. “This is Dart the Bard, checking in. Over.”

“This is a Code Orange, I repeat this is a Code Orange. Over.” Mike called.

“Hold on Paladin. We need to wait for Kas. Over.”

“That’s a negative, Dart. We need to talk without him. Over.”

But Eddie was a part of Operation White Picket Fence, even if his participation was working a little too well. Maybe that’s what this was about.

He huffed, endlessly glad they'd decided to stick to codenames, he couldn't deal with his mother overhearing any of this.

“Okay,” Dustin replied, “let’s switch to our backup channel just in case he checks in. Over.”

The Party sounded off their agreement and he turned the dial on his walkie, settling on the right numbers and waiting to find out exactly what was going on.

“The plan is backfiring. It’s going wrong. I overheard Emerson on the phone talking about Kas and Babysitter. She was going on about how she’s really started to like Kas. Like like. She has a full blown crush on him now and apparently it’s helping her move on from Babysitter. Over.”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shitshitshitshit! This is not what was supposed to happen! Over!”

“I know! What the hell are we supposed to do now? Over.”

"We'll tell Kas to stop. Maybe get him to start talking up Babysitter instead. Over."

"I don't want to see my s-Emerson get hurt over this, Bard. Besides, Kas is way better than Babysitter anyway. Over."

"But they're not meant to be! And Kas doesn’t even like her like that! Babysitter and Emerson are meant to be! We'll just have to regroup. Start pushing them harder or something. Over!"

"Yeah, because that's been working out so well so far." Lucas grumbled. "Over."

Dustin nearly jumped at the sound of the phone ringing elsewhere in the house. He sat, waiting for his mom to pick up. At least if she was on the phone he could be sure she wasn’t listening in. 

When the ringing stopped and he could hear the muffled sounds of his mother talking to someone, he continued.

“Babysitter hasn’t been on a date in months and the only person he’s been hanging around with other than Red Bird is Kas! He’s not trying anymore so this has to happen before Emerson leaves for-”

“Dusty? Phone for you.” His mother’s voice came through his closed bedroom door, accompanied by her knock.

“Shit. Hold on, guys. Phone. Over.”

Dustin pushed himself to his feet and opened the door, following his mother down the hallway. “Who is it?”

“Eddie.” She replied with a soft smile.

Speak of the devil. He thought. Well, no time like the present to sort this out.

“Hello?”

“Hey Dusty-Buns.” Eddie’s infuriating smile was audible.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“But it’s so fun! Listen, I need to talk to you about this whole Nancy and Steve thing-”

“Good, because I need to talk to you about it too. You gotta dial it back, man.”

Eddie paused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re getting in too deep with her, you’re starting to pull her attention away from Steve and that was not a part of the plan.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m not sure if I can really do that…”

“Wha- why? Why, Eddie, why?!”

“I dunno, man.” Dustin could hear him shrug. “I kinda like her.”

“No! Nonononono! You can’t like her! You’re not allowed to like her, why do you like her?!”

“What do you mean I’m not allowed? And as for why, have you met her? You used to have a crush on her!”

“Yeah, when I was a child, you can’t be serious about this, Eddie.”

“I’m super serious about this, Dustin. I like her. I want to ask her out.”

“Jesus Christ this was not part of the plan!”

“And I didn’t want to be a part of the plan from the start! You forced me into it! I told you it wouldn’t work.”

“It will work. It still can work! We're still doing this whether you like it or not. I’ll see you at Steve’s tomorrow. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime!”

“Dust-!”

Dustin slammed the phone back down onto the cradle, stomping back off to his room, ignoring his mother’s calls after him.

“Guys,” he said, snatching his walkie up from the floor. “Things just got so much worse. We need to come up with a new plan before tomorrow.”

Steve didn't seem too suspicious when Dustin called him to let him know the Party didn’t need a ride to his house for the get together, they’d bike. They needed time to get their plan straight anyway.

All of that was thrown out of the window, however when they pulled up to the Harrington home and heard shouting coming from inside. They all shared a nervous glance with each other, easily recognising the voices as coming from Steve and Eddie.

"-can't believe you would do this to me!" Steve yelled, standing on the opposite side of the living room to Eddie who had his arm draped over Nancy's shoulders. Robin was sitting on the couch between them, unusually subdued with a lollipop in her mouth, her eyes ping ponging between them like she was watching a tennis match.

"Steve, please! I thought you'd be happy for me!" Eddie shouted back, waving his free arm around.

"Happy for you? How could I be happy for you when you're stealing Nancy away from me!"

Nancy gave a little frown but didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry Steve but-”

“You’re supposed to be my friend Eddie!” Steve's voice pitched high like a whining dog and he sniffled… loudly.

“I am your friend! But you can’t expect me to ignore the pull of true love!”

Nancy turned her head to look at him. “True love?” She asked, her tone flat.

“That’s right. True love, shnookums, my precious little rainbow cupcake.” Eddie booped her on the nose and she looked like she was fighting hard not to punch him.

Dustin was horrified. How could everything have gone so wrong?

“This is a complete betrayal! I don’t know if I can ever look at you the same way again, either of you! In fact, I don’t think I can look at you anymore at all!” Steve’s voice was wavering as turned his back on them, facing Robin with his arms crossed who stared at him wide eyed, biting into her lollipop. 

“I don’t think there’s anything more I can say to you two. I never want to speak to you again! I never want to see you again!” Steve cried, throwing one hand over his eyes and holding the other out as if to push them away. “Go on, run away together and leave me behind! I wash my hands of you two.”

“That’s too bad Steve, I’m sorry this is goodbye forever, never to see each other again, never to interact or even ask the kids about one another in passing. This is truly a terrible, irreparable breaking of the Fellowship, never to be fixed!”

Jesus they were both laying it on thick, rubbing as much salt in the wound as possible, probably hurting each other terribly in the process. How had it come to this? Was their found family really going to be so broken forever? Dustin didn’t know if he could stomach it.

“Eddie.” Dustin breathed as he and Nancy turned to face them, apparently completely unsurprised to find the Party standing in the doorway. “What have you done?”

“What have I done? I did nothing but follow my heart, struck down by Cupid's arrow! What have you done, Dustin? You started this.”

“This wasn’t the plan, Eddie! This wasn’t the plan!”

Steve turned back around, his face suspiciously dry but Dustin was too far gone to notice.

“You were only supposed to make Steve jealous!” His voice was rising into a shout. “Not fall in love! You were never supposed to seriously flirt with Nancy and I told you not to ask her out! This whole thing was to get Steve and Nancy back together!”

“What plan? What whole thing?” Steve had walked over from his far corner of the room, planting himself down right next to Eddie with his hands on his hips and a stern look in his eye.

Dustin floundered, opening and closing his mouth. “The- we- there was a plan…” he took a deep breath. Well it was all completely fucked anyway, what was the point in keeping it quiet? “The plan was to get you and Nancy back together.”

"Behind our backs?" Steve prompted, not moving. He kept his hands on his hips and kept that hard look in his eyes, waiting for Dustin to continue. 

“You haven’t gone on a date in ages, Steve! And you and Nancy were so good together-”

“No we weren’t.” Steve and Nancy cut him off in unison.

“But- it’s- you two are meant to be together! Do the whole white picket fence and babies thing! You just needed a push so I said I’d give you that push!”

"You certainly 'pushed' enough, Dustin." Nancy said, unwinding Eddie's arm from around her shoulders. They were barely even touching now as if some kind of act had been dropped. As if-

"Wait."

"Personally, I think I pulled off 'straight' rather well." Eddie grinned, the picture of smug pride.

"Wait. But this… this was all an act?! But you…” He pointed between Steve and Nancy.

“Listen to me very carefully, Henderson.” Steve raised his hands and began using sign language exaggeratedly along with his speech as though to really punctuate his statement. “I. Don’t want to. Be with. Nancy. Nancy. Does not want to. Be with. Me. Your plan would have never worked-”

But Dustin just couldn’t let this go. He’d been so sure.

“It would have! It would have worked! There were just some,” he gestured in Eddie’s direction, “variables we didn’t think to factor in.”

“There were a lot of variables you didn’t think to factor in. Some of the biggest being how I would feel about this whole thing!" Steve said, jabbing himself in the chest. "Or Nancy! Or Eddie! You just ploughed through without any consideration for our own emotional investments. Did you ever once stop to think why? Did you ever think there was a reason why I’ve refused every time you’ve been bugging me about pursuing Nancy again? Or Robin? Or anyone else? No, you didn’t. You just assumed I wouldn’t know what was best for me or that I wasn’t smart enough to be making my own decisions. That I don’t know my own mind as well as you do.”

Dustin winced. He knew it was a sensitive topic for Steve, people always assuming he was stupid because he couldn’t read quickly or had difficulty hearing. But that’s not what he’d done! That’s not how he’d intended it!

“That’s not-”

“Yes it is. That’s exactly what it is. I’m very familiar with it, I’ve been listening to it my whole life. People making decisions for me about school or sports or whatever because I couldn’t possibly be able to figure it out on my own? I used to see it all the time, I know what it looks like. You ignored every sign, every way this thing could have and would have gone wrong. And because you refused to consider any of these factors you could have blown up some of my most cherished friendships forever! No coming back from it. Permanently damaged. Do you have any idea what that would do to me? To us? We are not your fucking playthings to mess around with, Dustin!"

Panic was starting to settle deep in Dustin’s chest now. He needed backup, he needed something, someone, it wasn’t malicious it was just… he was just trying to help!

“Eddie?”

“Don’t look at me, I am not on your side here, Henderson. I told you how this would end when you first approached me and you wouldn’t listen.”

“But you were bluffing! There’s no way you could have known he wouldn’t want this! You don’t know Steve that well.”

“What happened to 'you're a friend his own age', huh? You’re still assuming you know everything without a complete picture. There’s a glaring puzzle piece you’re missing out on because, and I’m sorry I have to say this, you don’t look at things objectively like a scientist should. You let your emotions run you and again refuse to see past the end of your own nose.”

Dustin crossed his arms, unable to look any of them in the eye. If he had missed something it couldn’t have been something that obvious. He just needed to find out what it was.

“What could I possibly be missing?” He grumbled.

“Oh no, you don’t get to bully that information out of us." Eddie said. "If you were meant to know, then you’d know. But you don’t get to decide what secrets people do or don’t tell you. Part of being a grown up is understanding that.”

“But why… why wouldn’t you tell me something like that?”

“This. This is why, Dustin." Steve answered, running a hand through his hair. "Because you meddle. For months we’ve been telling you not to, but you don’t listen. You’ve made us feel like we have to keep things secret from you because what if you decided this secret thing is a bad thing, even though it makes the people involved happy? If you decide it’s bad or not the best course of action, you might have decided again that you know best and try to break it. Don’t even try to deny it, Dustin, you know it’s the truth.”

“But… but if you’d just told me it makes you happy-”

“You mean like how I told you I was happy where I was now and didn’t need Nancy back in my life romantically? That I was happy with how all my relationships are now?" Steve sighed, shaking his head. "You still tried to fuck with it, Dustin. You still tried to fuck with a good thing because you think you know better.”

“The both of us went to you separately and made it crystal clear that we were happy with things the way they were." Nancy said. "We’d agreed that if you backed off, we’d back off too. But you didn’t. You could’ve destroyed our friendships, destroyed our relationships, destroyed each of us mentally and emotionally. You just kept pushing. You want to be treated like a grownup? Well congrats, you got what you wished for. Consequences. No sugar coating. Grown up consequences. Just like you wanted.”

“But what about the others? They were involved too!”

“And they’ll get their punishment. But we all know you were the ringleader.” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, unmoving.

“So that’s it? You’re happy being single? Really?” Dustin knew he was pushing. He knew he should have really kept that last comment inside, he really should have. 

Because Steve had been irritated, pissed off and upset. But now he was angry. Honestly and truly angry and Dustin didn’t think until this moment that it had ever been directed at him before.

It was a soft anger, simmering and cold and disappointed.

“You still don’t get it.”

Steve was looking at him and underneath the anger and disappointment there was also a streak of heartbreak that Dustin didn’t know what the fuck to do with.

Everyone else was looking at him now, Eddie and Robin were like marble pillars, bracketing Steve at either side with a stern look on their face, Nancy was glaring down at him and all of his friends behind him had wilted.

He was the only one left standing proud and a horrible, terrible part of his brain was saying to him that if everyone in a room was telling him he was wrong, maybe… maybe he hadn’t been as right as he was sure he had been.

“But I-” Dustin stuttered. He… he hadn’t set out to hurt Steve. He would never… “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

“Dustin.” That was Nancy, circling around him now until she came to a stop in front of him. “I think it’s time for you to go. All of you.”

“But-”

“If you refuse to leave, it will become trespassing.”

Trespassing? What, was Steve going to call the fucking police on him or something? But a glance back at Steve’s face, resigned and hurt and angry told him that maybe he couldn’t exactly hash everything out right now. 

He’d just have to wait for everyone to calm down and then they could work this out. 

They could work this all out, right?

“I mean, how could it all have gone so wrong?”

They were all sitting in Will's room, the whole Party in a circle on the floor. Dustin was… confused.

He was angry. He was hurt. He was… so upset. And all with himself because… well because he had hurt Steve. Had been hurting Steve for long enough that Steve felt like he had to hide things from him.

He made Steve feel like he couldn’t talk to him, tell him about this good thing in his life because he thought Dustin might fuck with it?

And yeah, Steve hid shit from them all the time.

His rocky recovery after the Upside-Down, both mentally and physically. The amount of times he had to fight off infection from the road-rash on his back and arms. The nightmares. The panic attacks. The concussions. The hearing loss.

But all those things Steve hid from them because he didn’t want them to worry, he didn’t want to burden them with their problems. 

He’d never hidden something from them, from Dustin because he was happy. 

Whatever this thing was, it apparently made Steve really, really happy and Dustin never knew. Because Steve had been afraid that if he told Dustin and Dustin didn’t like it for whatever reason, he’d try to take it away, try to meddle.

God, he was starting to hate that word. 

Meddle.

It felt so fucking childish. 

"It was never gonna go right." Max muttered from in between Lucas and El.

And Dustin didn’t know why it was that that did it, that quiet and slightly accusatory comment from Max who rarely pulled her verbal punches that caused the first tear to spill free.

And they just kept coming. His vision was blurring and there was a terrible lump in his throat, forcing its way out.

The first sob that broke through sent a ripple throughout the group, plunging them into silence and Dustin could feel them all staring. 

The next second he was set upon, everyone coming close to get their arms around him or hands on him, to comfort him even though he didn’t feel like he deserved any of it. 

“What did I do?” He blubbered. He wasn’t even sure who’s shirt he was crying into. “What do I do? Steve didn’t tell me, he won’t tell me b- because he thinks I’ll try to take it away. Wh- what do I do?”

“Dustin.” Oh, that was Lucas. He was destroying Lucas’ shirt. “Do you understand why what you did was so fucked up? I’m not asking to punish you more, but you can’t fix it until you understand what was broken. It’s science.”

Science.

Yeah, okay. He could understand that.

Can’t just smash pieces back together. You gotta examine them.

“I- I ignored all the times they told me to leave it alone?” 

Lucas nodded. “Yeah. Anything else?”

Someone was running a hand up and down his back and someone else had both his hands in a firm grip.

“I… I kept pushing. After they told me to stop. Af- after they told me they were happy. Because I thought… I thought, how could they be happy? I wouldn’t be happy in their position, so they must not be happy. And everything with Steve… trying to push Robin or Nancy towards him because… because he’s supposed to be with someone, right? And they’re his friends so why wouldn’t he want one of them?”

“Same reason you wouldn’t want me.” Max said. “Or El.”

“I did want you once.” Dustin mumbled. There was no point trying to deny the past. Not at this stage.

“And Steve wanted Robin once. But they’ve always been just friends.” One of the hands in his squeezed, and that was probably Max. “Could you imagine someone trying to force the two of us together now? After everything we’ve figured out between us?”

“B-but that’s different. You’re with Lucas.”

“So? What if I wasn’t and someone was still trying to push us together? Or what if we had to hide our relationship because of small minded idiots and we couldn’t say why you and I wouldn’t work out, we just had to hope someone would take our word for it. And then what if they didn’t and just kept pushing?”

Dustin hummed, a weak and shaky thing but he could see her point. It would be fucking torture to try to deal with all of that and to not be able to say anything about it. 

What a terrible hypothetical. 

“I…” He sniffled, trying not to wipe his nose off on Lucas’ shirt. “I need to apologise. I need… I need to talk to him.”

There was a tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see Will holding out some tissues.

He took it with a watery smile. 

“We’ll help you figure it out.”

Part 2 AO3

@augustjustice

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation and @hairstevington for her help with the ASL section. 😘

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 6 ~

Rennick's Comeuppance:

And here we are. The last chapter to wrap up this 'Lifting the Fog' Arc. Yes, I'll keep writing more in the future but I have art to post and I want to focus on my own writing. Thank you to everyone who's continued to read these chapters, and I hope you enjoy!

TW: Blood.

Part 7:

'Oi, McLeary!' Muir called. 'Give Rennick a good kick up the arse.'

Caz wasn't going to give Rennick a good kick up the arse.

Along with Brodie, he hid behind a filing cabinet and waited for Rennick to pass. When they arrived into Administration, Caz could feel something. It didn't cause a splitting headache or his vision to blur, but he assumed it to be The Shape trying its best to tempt him. Neither saw Rennick turn. As far as they were concerned, the old fud was happily tucked away in his office before trying to get to the helipad. That must have been his point of infection. They had noticed The Shape reaching over the handrail, but not much. Rennick must have touched it by accident then fell when the rig began to shake. In a twisted way, turning saved his life, and that wasn't in Caz and Brodie's plan.

They just wanted to find Rennick, drag him to Accommodation and get a verbal beat down by everyone there. Gregor was gone, Davros was missing and even if they didn't like Rennick, they had to try. Caz had brought Trots back from the brink. Douglas found Gibbo and Innes with Muir. Unknown to them, O'Connor had a role to play with Addair. Now, it was Rennick's turn. There was just one problem. No one knew anything about him, nor did anyone like him. Could the reflection trick be enough? Apparently not, because they either heard a mirror or a glass door shatter and Rennick scream in frustration which bled into disgust. He gagged and began to hyperventilate. The pair almost felt bad for him, until he turned back to blind rage and broke into the wall.

They left their hiding spots, awkwardly clambered over the collapsed door that kept them safe and followed the destruction Rennick left in his wake. The further apart they were, the less Caz could sense him.

'The state of this place...'

The men's eyes constantly moved in all directions. Caz looked over his shoulders at the slightest noise. Brodie stared at the floor for any glass they could avoid. Both awkwardly shuffled pass a piece of the discoloured Shape in single-file. It was eerily quiet. Had Rennick gone into the under rig? Or was he lying in wait?

Caz turned his head. He could sense Rennick to the left. Looking through a giant hole in the wall revealed the site manager, standing in a crumbling office, where its outerwall had been bulldozed, allowing the cold yet crisp air in. He grabbed Brodie's shoulder and nodded in the direction. A shiver ran up their spines. They watched Rennick stare out to the sea with a distant look in his eyes. Seemed he's tired himself out.

'Stay here.' It was no secret that Brodie was someone Rennick respected to some degree. He never had been called to the office in the six years he's been stationed at The Beria for the insults. The only time he has was to introduce Raffs and make sure he signed the correct paperwork. If anyone had a chance to talk to him how Douglas did for Gibbo, it was Brodie. Or Finlay, but she wasn't here.

'Rennick?' The older man instantly turned and stared at the diver who held his hands up to show he wasn't going to hurt him. Not like he could. 'It's okay. But, can you move away from the edge? This place is falling apart.' Right on cue, a piece of the ceiling landed between them. Rennick stared. 'It's me. It's Brodie.'

'Yes, I know it's you, you pillock. Stop talking me to like I'm some fuckin' wild animal!'

Well, that was unexpected. The fog had already been lifted from Rennick. His voice hadn't been tainted by The Shape trying to copy him. He showed chronic pain, but all of the infected did during and after being brought back from the brink. Brodie began to relax, or as best as he could when your boss could literally eat you alive.

'Okay, that's good. Look, everyone's meeting up in Accommodation. Archie and Roper are taking care of the rescue.'

'As they fucking well should.' He huffed and noticed Caz poking his head around the corner. Anger quickly boiled to the surface as Rennick pushed pass Brodie in the most gentle way he could. 'You have some fuckin' nerve still being here, McLeary.'

'Well, I wasn't gonna swim back to Scotland now, was I?'

Brodie game him a look. It basically said 'Please shut up and let me handle this,' but Caz didn't notice.

'I still expect you to fuck off when we get back to shore. Do you underst-'

'What the fuck is your problem?!' And there goes any little progress Brodie made. 'We practically keep this rig afloat day and night, whilst you stay nice and cosy in your little cabin. The only time you see us is to give us lip. And look us now. Even after we hit whatever the fuck that is out there, you're still hiding away whilst we do all the work. You told me you had more hairs on your fat crack that can bring more positive contributions, so fuckin' prove it!'

Silence.

All the colour in Brodie's face vanished. Rennick glared. Caz glared back. Even the sea fell quiet.

'...I told you to go, McLeary.' Rennick's voice twisted. He began to snarl between his words and contorted his face.

'Rennick, don't!' Brodie's words fell on deaf ears.

Caz took a quick glance in the direction of the door. If this was going to get Rennick outside, then so be it.

'I'LL MAKE YOU FUCKIN' GO!'

Caz didn't wait to hear the end of Rennick's sentence. He turned and ran. With a roar, Rennick followed. Brodie ducked and held his head as more ceiling tiles fell around him. He watched the pair leave. 'Rennick, stop. Rennick!'

You could say this was a bad idea. Why bring Caz along when Rennick was rightfully pissed he had used The Beria to hide from the police since August? Well, in all honesty, no one wanted to go. Plus, Caz had hoped whatever was happening would be enough of a distraction. What Caz didn't take into consideration was the fact he used The Beria to hide from the police since August.

Rennick followed Caz with little thought. He didn't stop to think that he was luring him outside. He crashed into walls at tight turns, smashed the interior windows and trampled chairs. A tendril set off the fire extinguisher that bounced off the walls and nearly hit Brodie, who was falling behind as he had to navigate the floors to not fall through.

The double doors were in view. Caz picked up the pace. Rennick's screams of frustration could be heard outside. Archie and his crew, Roper and the rest of Marine Control and Engineering, everyone on Deck and some in Accommodation turned in the general direction. They all knew and nearly everyone's face turned as white as a ghost. The last thing they needed was for Rennick to be infected. They screamed for Caz as he appeared, nearly falling as he made a sharp turn along the catwalk to his right. His body got low as he turned with a slide. Rennick, still with tunnel vision, smashed into the railing that caused his infection. The railing bent under his weight and he nearly fell with it, but he regained hit 'footing' and followed. Brodie still had the long corridor to get through. Every step had to be perfectly calculated.

Caz could feel Rennick practically breathing down his neck. He was too close. The old man was fast. Getting down the ladder, let alone to it impossible. In a sudden act of desperation, he grabbed the railing and jumped. He didn't think how high the fall would be, just as long as he gained some distance. A tendril from Rennick reached out to pull Caz back, but another caught him first. A tendril from Muir wrapped around Caz's waist and pulled him to safety, landing between the group. It all happened so fast, when he touched the ground, the leccy fell to his knees as he tried to catch his breath. 'Let's not do that again,' he told himself.

Innes patted his shoulder and with O'Connor, pulled the man up.

There wasn't anytime to talk. Caz didn't have time to register Addair before they all felt a bang. Rennick jumped onto the Deck and stared at Caz with a wild look in his eyes, also catching his breath. He didn't show it, but he realised how he'd been tricked to come out of hiding. He glanced at everyone he could see. A part of him was relieved he wasn't the only infected. Compared to Addair and Muir, he started to feel less disguisted with himself. At least he still had his head and his organs weren't exposed.

'Not bad, McLeary.' Brodie watched from the catwalk. 'Not bad.' He felt all eyes on him. There was no reaction. No one going to comfort him or even ask if he was alright. Just staring with empty or angry eyes. Rennick remained strong, but he could tell this was a losing battle. 'What?!' He snapped and turned to his left where O'Connor and his group stood with Roper above. He turned to the right. 'Don't you dare look at me like that. I'm not the one who got us into this shit. I'm not the one who activated the drill. If you want someone to blame, then you should all be looking at Gibbo, or Roper. They're the ones who decided to drill through this stuff.' Everyone stared. They could tell Rennick was grasping at straws. Anger bubbled. Trots and Gibbo made their way down to the Deck. 'I'm the one giving you all a roof over your heads. The one who makes sure you have money to pay your bills or send back to your families. And this is how you thank me? By turning me into this thing?! I should fire each and every one of you-'

A tendril slapped Rennick across the face, with such force his head jerked to the side, leaving a deep cut. With one of his 'arms' he touched it and noticed his blood dripping. He turned. It was Gibbo. The man had a both a hurt and angered look in his eye. He was trying to hold back his tears.

'Because of you...' He tried to be strong, but he began to cry. The chain was still wrapped around a tendril. 'My boy has to see his father look like this for the rest of his life!' Rennick gritted his teeth.

'Get to fuck, Gibson! It's your fault that oil got on y-' Another slap from Gibbo. This time, it cut above Rennick's eyebrow and this time Rennick didn't fight back. He felt everyone's eyes on him. His usual tactics of verbally abusing his crew into making themselves carry the blame wasn't working. A sense of anxiety spread across his body. It tensed and Rennick couldn't bring himself to look away from the floor. He kept one eye covered from Gibbo's cut. His lips tightened and turned in on themselves. His breath became shaky. Rennick wanted to be sick. There was no convincing. The King had lost his followers and his Empire was in ruins.

'Stop looking at me! Stop it. Don't you dare look at me like that. Go away. Go away!' The words flooded his mind. He didn't know who it was, but hearing footsteps was enough. He turned and dashed across the Deck, before climbing back to Administration, nearly hitting Brodie as he vanished over the building.

Silence.

There was no cheers. No one said anything. To answers your question, it was Roper's footstep that caused Rennick to leave. Trots placed a hand on Gibbo, who didn't feel guilty at all for slapping his boss twice. In fact, he felt relieved. It felt good. Still didn't stop his tears. Caz shared a glance up to Brodie who gave a thumbs up before climbing down the ladder. Archie and Roper exchanged a look. The pilot nodded and moved back to the helipad, ready to fly back to the mainland to enforce an emergency rescue. Finlay turned and noticed.

'Oi, you lot. Is it supposed to be doing that?'

The Shape had now gone completely grey. It's pulse stopped. Then it began to crumble. Slowly flakes chipped away, before pieces no bigger than a finger nail followed at a much faster pace. Everyone on The Beria. D Oil Rig watched The Shape disintegrate into a dust cloud. The wind carried it back to sea, leaving only the dust inside to be swept up by someone later.

A sensation came over Caz. He held his head, but passed it off as him removing his hard-hat to run a hand through his hair. Since being rescued by Brodie and Douglas, he had a splitting headache and blurred vision whenever he got close to The Shape and the infected. He could faintly hear Suze calling for him like a song, but since the rig began to shake, it all seemed to stop. All he could feel was the presence of the infected. What he just felt was The Shape finally being put to rest. He was free from its grasp.

'It's...dead.'

For a brief moment, the infected waited to be turned back into their human form, but to no avail. A crushing blow. On the bright side, seeing whatever The Shape was dissappear was a huge weight off everyone's shoulder.

'...What now?' Trots asked. Caz shrugged and put his hard-hat back on.

'Well, we do have a darts tournament to finish.'

[maxwell-grant]

(VENTURE BROS FINALE SPOILERS)

There's this thing I keep thinking back to in The Venture Bros, that is the way everyone talks about Jonas Venture. The early myth of Jonas Venture, the great man and hero beloved by everyone who has been succeeded by a less-than-great failure of a son, is eventually twisted around with the gradual reveal of Jonas as a horrible man who did horrible things to his son that made him the way he is, and with every subsequent appearence unveiling more and more about the depths of depravity Jonas was actively capable of. We get to see how much Jonas is responsible for many of the issues all the characters find themselves envolved in, how much can be traced back to him, and we see things he's done that even appalled the rest of the old Team Venture who seemed mostly fine with all the other things he was doing. Rusty even gets a couple of moments of catharsis where he's shown to be making progress in having moved past his dad.

But the way people talk about Jonas Venture never changes. There is no reckoning for anyone other than maybe Rusty. Jonas Venture is the biggest and most successful and influential character even after his death, and his perception at large never remotely changes. He is the biggest monster, and so he has the best public image out of everyone. All the little monsters are just playing in his pool, and even all the other not-monsters will cover for him and praise him no matter what he did, no matter how many people he killed, no matter how many children's lives he ruined or how much destruction he left everywhere he went.

When we're introduced to Professor Victor von Helping, the kindest and most helpful person Dean's ever had in his life, he expresses open admiration for Jonas as an inspiration for getting into science, something he will explain to Dean was what saved him and allowed him to take control of his life from his horrible father, and this is directly after the Morpho saga that had shown us Jonas at his absolute worst. And the thing is, we're not meant to think less of Von Helping for it. He is not malicious, he doesn't worship science or Jonas for any nefarious or ignorant reason, he just knows what everyone does: that Jonas Venture was a great scientist who changed the world and has been succeeded by a not very impressive son.

Ben, who personally assisted Jonas in the cloning process and who knows what else and now lives in a graveyard of hundreds of people whose deaths he directly attributes to both Rusty and Jonas, is still about as benevolent as a super scientist can really be in the setting, and in the movie he helps cap off the show with a message to Hank Venture that he delivers based on what Jonas passed onto him. He attributes "Blood doesn't make a family; love does", a closing statement on the show, as heartfelt wisdom from Hank's granddad. It's not played for irony. We can debate whether it's meant to have some or the degree to which that statement can be read as malicious coming from Jonas or someone who was that closely affiliated with him, but none of that even really matters in that moment of Hank's closure and Ben being able to provide some with what he claims to be Jonas' teachings.

None of this takes away from all the horrible things Jonas did. None of this is meant to be any kind of redemption for him or his legacy. His legacy may be complicated, but Jonas Venture was not a complicated man. Complications and moral dillemmas are things he invented for the little people around him to deal with, whether they fought for the Guild or the OSI, or they are little Ventures scurrying in his shadow. Moral greyness was just a thing for chumps to be concerned about while Jonas ruled the world unimpeded from doing whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted.

Usually when shows have this big, massive force behind so many unfolding events and characters and traumas, there's a degree to which their comeuppance involves some kind of larger reckoning. They get exposed for who they are, their legacy crumbles, their great deeds are rendered lesser, they are given ignoble fates or some kind of retributive punishment, society can rest easier with the great evil exposed and defeated, and the audience can rest easier knowing that, if some great evil like this was made public and exposed, we'd do something about it. We'd so something about it on a scale that matters and stops it from happening again.

We need to believe that's what happens because we can't, and maybe we must never, accept that it doesn't work that way, that all around us are monuments and reminders that celebrate the monstrosities of our forefathers and their grip on our current lives, even when everything they've done and continue doing is public record, even when you tell someone about it and they still keep doing it, and everyone around you gives them a pass to do it so long as it (and by "it", they mean you) doesn't bother them.

And it's not like none of those things happened with Jonas, he did get a deserving comeuppance of sorts in the Morpho trilogy. But nobody really cared. Nobody that mattered cared. Only Rusty cares, and Rusty doesn't matter. Certainly not as much as his dad matters. Jonas gets the approval of the world and all the accolades and statues that follow, and he gets to crush his children forever under the weight of his legacy because of that. All they can do is try and survive past him, and even that is enough of a struggle.

But even with all of that, even with Ben's gentle and comforting parting words being another reminder that history exonerates Jonas for everything he's done while looking down on those he victimized, I find myself thinking of the fact that the last we ever see of Jonas' image is that accursed statue finally being toppled off it's pedestal, and the entire cast banding together to rescue The Monarch, his other son and victim, from it. They may not even like him (and for good reasons), but they don't let the invincible grip of his father take him to the grave. It takes them all to push back Jonas, but they push him back nonetheless, and Monarch lives another day.

It's not what the movie ends on, it's more of a funny moment than anything. It's just I was going to end this ramble pessimistically, until I remembered this frame. The true final word on him.

May we all survive the Jonas Ventures of our lives and push those fuckers back into the trash where they belong.

[adamworu]

In a week or so it'll be the 3 year anniversary that FINAL was released outside of Japan. I still remember the watch party I went to and how we all wowed at parts online. How we were--as a collective-- weirded out by the CGI Rei sequence. Which will always be one of the film's highlights for me. How striking the divine geometries were.

The Kaworu and Gendo parallels despite them being on opposite ends of the communicative spectrum.

How the former uses music as a means of communication and the latter uses music as a replacement for people. How Kaworu's distance from people didn't stop him from trying to communicate and how Gendo's relationship with people was used to justify his distance. How Shinji's 'You're like my father' is subverted in intention this time around. The OG series variation is uttered when Shinji finds out Kaworu is an angel, is forced to realize his desire to destroy angels comes from false, honeyed words and recoils from this revelation by likening Kaworu to his father. The latter comes from when Shinji finally understands the both of them, how music makes them happy for different reasons.

I still remember giving my thoughts on the movie to others. How my inbox was not too long after inundated. I didn't feel like an authority figure, but rather someone putting their thoughts down on a moving metatextual film. I guess it resonated with a lot of people.

I still remember how FINAL recontextualized certain things. How it addressed personal grievances of mine in why Rebuild Eva seemed 'tame' compared to Eva. How the horrors feel more implicit and seemingly less unsettling. The horror of Rebuild Eva's predecessor isn't just the contempt of man, but how this manifests and how often this type of injustice goes unanswered. How life tells you that all your enemies, your adversaries will eventually suffer comeuppances. But this is hardly the case. It just keeps happening. You will often loudly weep to a world that willingly cuts off its ears.

The Rebuilds, however are a more environment horror. When it comes to the environment's deterioration, we're frogs in a boiling pot. We don't realize how a place of stagnation causes us the very same. When the horrors have a face, we identify them quickly.

I still remember the bevvy of cycle theories floating all throughout years prior to FINAL's release. How Kaworu's reveal of a cyclical narrative and being stuck confirmed this. Eva has always been a story of repetition. A story of detrimental cycles. The power and understated importance of breaking them. How paradoxical free will is, that one may use it to give or take others' free will. How Eva staunchly tells the viewer of the latter.

Almost 3 years ago is when Eva FINAL tied all these concepts so nicely together. 3 years ago I still believe in and practice empathy in any way I can. I hope that you are doing the same too. I hope that someone else's kindness betters your world.

And I hope that others' kindness may one day better mine.

[geekgirles]

Liar Revealed

So Marinette and Sabrina worked together to lure Lila into a false sense of security that eventually led up to her spilling everything in front of an audience she was unaware of. Now everyone knows she’s been lying about everything, she’s a horrible person, and she and Chloé are about to be expelled for good... After 7 years, the fandom finally got what it wanted.

...then why do I feel like I’ve actually wasted those 7 years of my life? 

Buckle up, ‘cause this is going to be a long ride.

As someone who’s been eagerly awaiting for Lila to be exposed since Volpina, a feeling that only grew with each passing episode she’s been featured in, I honestly find this development wholly underwhelming, highly disappointing, even. 

Maybe I’m too vindictive, who knows, but this in no way feels like proper comeuppance for a character who’s been maliciously manipulating everyone around her and relishing in other people’s misery since she was first introduced.

First and foremost, because having Lila accidentally reveal herself while gloating is too much of a cliché. I’ve seen people before mentioning how Lila exposing herself seemed to be the only way this could go, seeing as Marinette’s best attempts always seemed to fail. But if we ignore for a second this was actually set up by Marinette and Sabrina, with the way it’s handled it just feels like a kick in the gut, not the overwhelming catharsis I’m sure most of us were expecting. 

Because, and this is actually my main problem with the execution, by having Lila expose herself by spouting a self-satisfied tirade of every single lie she’s ever told and people have believed without question as she disparages Sabrina’s attempts to take her down, saying how she could easily turn everyone against her, the narrative is actually framing Lila in the right.

When we as the audience know it shouldn’t be like that. 

Lila only really upped her game in season 5 (and even then the writers still rely too much on the characters being dumbed down around her for it to work), up until then all her lies would have been easily discreditable if the writers didn’t need the class and everyone in Paris to believe her for her schemes to work!

From our perspective, Lila is nowhere near as formidable as she presents herself to be. Which, admittedly, goes in line with her consistent characterisation (about her only consistent trait aside from being hateful and a liar) that she believes and presents herself to be more special than she actually is. But the problem is no character other than Marinette, Adrien, and now Sabrina ever learnt of this fact! Maybe now that she’s exposed herself, but with the way she gloated about all her plans going off without a hitch...

Which leads us to another reason this was the worst possible execution of Lila being exposed they could have come up with:

It was a stroke of luck.

That’s it. That’s unquestionably what it was. Because hadn’t Sabrina finally grown a spine and drawn the line with the actions she was willing to commit for Chloé’s sake, Marinette would have had no way of knowing of Lila’s plan and preparing accordingly. 

Really, the only positive thing I can say about it is that it could maybe count as character development for Marinette since she finally learned she needed to be as sneaky as Lila if she wanted to take her down. And there’s of course the fact that Sabrina finally broke away from Chloé. Other than that? It’s a fairly sombre scenario, really. 

Because, again, Marinette didn’t manage to finally beat Lila because she had a strong support network (which would have painted a very symbolic and meaningful picture showcasing how, for all the superficial attention her lies can get her, in reality, Lila will always be alone as long as she doesn’t put in the genuine effort to reach out to others like Marinette does), but because she had outside help. Again, help she couldn’t have accounted for until Sabrina herself reached out to her. 

Relating to my previous point, Marinette never got Alya to even believe her about Lila or at the very least question how genuine she was until Lila spelled it out for her. Even though she’s known her best friend is Ladybug for months, which brings forth the question if letting Alya in on Marinette’s secret ended up being even worth it if the writers refuse to have her help her out where it matters (I’ll be sure to go back to this point in a minute, just you wait). 

What else? Oh, I know! How about the fact that, for a season that was supposed to be all about Adrienette winning, the writers purposely robbed us of that Adrienette vs Lila alliance we were promised back in Chameleon, huh? Because Adrien was completely left out of the plan. In fact, ever since Ladybug back in season 3, he hasn’t been allowed to do anything to help Marinette against Lila. As with the Ladynoir conflict in season 4, his relevance all but vanished even though he was a central part of the conflict from seasons 1-3. 

Even better! When he finally spoke up about Lila to Nino and Alya, arguably his best friends besides Ladybug, they completely brushed his concerns off as him just agreeing with Marinette out of boyfriend obligation! I didn’t know intangible things could slap me in the face, but boy was I wrong!

And the best part? This complete disregard of his feelings, lack of communication, and their assuming they know better than him (which disturbingly parallels to his own relationship with Gabriel...) is certainly never going to be explored, let alone resolved. 

What do I mean with all this?

Well, basically that for a show that’s supposed to promote the power of love, friendship, and teamwork, when it comes to Lila Marinette is all alone. Has been since Volpina. 

But at least that’s done with, Lila got her just desserts, and we’re never going to have to deal with her ever again...

SIGH

Except, not really. Not at all, in fact. 

Because just as she and Chloé were finally being reprimanded for their actions, Mr. Damocles had to choose that of all moments to realise he failed as a principal, attract an akuma, cause a racket, and provide Lila with the perfect distraction to just...walk away unscathed. 

And with the reveal that she actually has more identities, social circles, and opportunities to lie and manipulate to fall back to after being expelled from the Françoise-Dupont...Let’s just say it implies that while Marinette (and the audience) had to endure nothing short of psychological torture, Lila never really had anything to lose.

Now I ask you...how the Hell am I supposed to consider that a satisfying, cathartic resolution to that particular arc?!?!?!?

And if you permit me, there is one more thing I’d like to get off my chest. 

Alya’s reaction to this.

After learning the truth she rushes to hug Marinette and apologise, being a clear wreck about it. And while Marinette getting an apology once in a blue moon is always a welcomed thing, once again the writers aim and completely miss their shot. Because Alya apologises for being gullible. 

Look, back in seasons 1 and 2, Hell, even back in season 3, I could have overlooked this. Yes, she never listened to Marinette, could be a tad hypocritical, and the whole jealous thing got old and annoying fast, but at least she couldn’t know for certain Lila was bad news. But from season 4 onwards Alya no longer has such an excuse. No, from season 4 onwards Alya’s problem isn’t that she’s gullible, it’s that she willingly and repeatedly chose to blatantly ignore all of Marinette’s suspicions and warnings regarding Lila. Even after Adrienette finally became canon and Marinette had realistically no reason to feel jealous of Lila in any way, shape or form, Alya still couldn’t fathom that, perhaps, her best friend had her reasons for disliking Lila besides a love triangle. 

The moment Alya learned Marinette is Ladybug, the two should have been allowed to talk about Lila, about the real reason Marinette hates her, and to work together to overcome this issue and bring her down. How do you expect me to be okay with season 5 opening to these two having daily sleepovers to talk about Marinette’s love life, but not a single second could be spared after Illusion to have Alya question why Marinette hates her so much, if not connect the dots herself since she is Ladybug’s best friend, not Lila, and Ladybug hates her?

I’ve seen people justify this saying it’s been a long time since Lila lied about being Ladybug’s best friend, and while I’ll argue the last time it was mentioned was actually Chameleon, not Volpina, I could see your point. Except that is not just another lie, like her claiming she knows Jagged Stone or Prince Ali. No, that is the lie that started everything.

It was because Lila lied about knowing Ladybug to impress everyone, especially Adrien, that Marinette completely lost it and chewed her out for it in front of him. It’s because of that lie and the consequent reaction it got from Ladybug that Lila even developed a grudge in the first place. It’s because of that lie that Marinette ever found out about Lila being a liar, because before she first lied to Adrien about being close to Ladybug, Marinette was panicking because she had no chance against someone as incredible as her. If she hadn’t lied about knowing Ladybug, Marinette would have been as fooled by her as everyone else and the two might have never really come to blows.

So don’t tell me it was never brought up because it was so long ago and it doesn’t matter anymore, when that particular lie carries so much weight and we all know the real reason they couldn’t have Alya in Marinette’s corner is because the writers know Lila needs everyone around her to follow her blindly for her lies to work and everything to always work out in her favour because otherwise she just doesn’t work as a villain.

TL;DR: If you want a good resolution to the Lila Gets Exposed plot, pick literally any fanfic dealing with this exact premise. It’ll be better, I promise.

[lenreli]

submerge your inhibition

[AO3]

4.6k, Explicit. Models Dream + Hob. Inspired by Ferdie in The Comeuppance BTS.

-

Dream quietly slips into the room, and finds himself relaxing even as the chaos of a photoshoot mills around him. The photographer calling things out, a closed off partition where people are arguing about clothes and makeup, the requisite table of food and crew taking bites from it between running around. 

It’s not his photoshoot, but it still feels familiar. Like coming home, which Dream didn’t think he would feel after― 

But, Lucienne strongly recommended that he get out of his apartment, to be around people that aren’t her. Or his sister. Or his therapist, Matthew. 

So next week he will be having a photoshoot with Robert Gadling, someone that Lucienne seemed to approve of, and he’s learnt the brutal way that he should trust her more. Pulling his black coat tighter around him, he’s been avoiding where the camera’s pointing, re-familiarising himself with everything else first. 

Finally looking towards the main scene, there are many people ― but with just the picture Lucienne gave him, he’s easily able to spot Gadling, leaning against the wall, stare intense towards the camera. And Dream suddenly feels hotter, taking in the brown-and-grey hair and dark eyes, Gadling’s beard looking soft and touchable. 

And most absurd of all, is the ordinary clothes he wears. A brown leather jacket with a grey shirt underneath, belts and jeans and shoes so normal but Dream swallows, brain trying to figure out how this Gadling is the hottest model he’s seen in all his years in the industry, the plain clothes almost sinful. The peek of chest hair from his top, the way the jeans are across the crotch, bordering on obscene, the way it makes Dream’s mouth water. 

Did the man sell his soul to the devil? And he has to be near all that next week?! And function?! 

Any lingering doubts over his libido are quashed as Gadling’s eyes pass over to him, and it feels like the molten core of the Earth bursts in his veins as Gadling moves, settling into a different pose on the wall, hands in his jeans pockets. Dream’s mouth waters as he thinks about sitting in the spot in front of him, hands reaching towards jeans to― 

Apparently, the other people leave, but Dream doesn’t know, eyes stuck on Gadling as they are. Gadling stops looking towards him ― or, the camera, he reminds himself as someone comes over and gives him another jacket, more blood-red leather than the brown as Gadling nods and another touch of makeup gets put on him.

Dream can only watch, spellbound and body tingling as his blood rushes every way as Gadling moves to sit on a chair, intense stare still directed at the camera, and at Dream himself.

Then the photographer calls for lunch and Gadling smiles, lighting up the whole room as he stands up, bouncing on the heels of his feet and Dream blinks as Gadling heads straight for him. “Did our shoot get moved up? Right. Sorry. You can call me Hob, and we’re going to,” Gadling―Hob enthuses, a warm hand brushing onto his shoulder as he gestures.

“No. It is still next week,” he says as Hob breathes, huddling close to him with a soft smile, and Dream thinks that this might be even worse, the warmth from Hob, the bright grin and a faint smell of lemon and bergamot, “I wanted to get the lay of the land first.” 

Hob, still smiling, nods, and Dream doesn’t even feel like protesting as Gadling loosely takes his elbow, guiding them over to the food table. “Ah. Hope you’re still up for it, then!” Gadling says with a particular tone, which Dream’s unable to parse between all the warmth he can feel, the soft smile and brown eyes looking at him as Hob gets a mini custard tart to eat. “Honestly, I was so shocked when you, well, your agent confirmed it that I had to ask my roommate to pinch me, because your work’s so great and―sorry, again. I ramble,” Hob tugs at his ear and Dream blinks. “Also, I keep touching you. Tactile bastard, me,” Hob says with a chuckle. 

Dream blinks and Hob gets another tart, seemingly in no hurry for Dream to speak―”I do not. Mind. It is fine,” he says, surprising himself by meaning it, even with how stilted it comes out as Hob leans against the table, expression intently focused on him and what little words he says. “And you do not mind what―surely, you heard what happened,” he trails off as Hob finishes off another tart, apparently a favourite for him. 

Hob blinks and leans closer, not in a looming way, more for sharing secrets. “I heard bits, but I’m not gonna hold it against you, if that’s what you’re thinking. And honestly, just tell me to bugger off or stop something during our shoot and I definitely will. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.” 

The way it’s said, like it’s reasonable and okay, floors him as he tries to get his brain together, not helped with how attractive Hob in general is, and Dream tries not to lean closer to him, like he’s not helplessly magnetised. “I. Thank you. For the consideration.”

Hob’s brow furrows and Dream’s fingers twitch as Hob puts some hair behind his ear, “not so much consideration as common decency, I think. So. Curiosity sated, or will you stay to watch me flail about more?” Hob nods towards the area dedicated to the shoot, brown eyes sparkling. 

And. Well. “You do not flail,” he points out and Hob laughs, bright and loud. The sound of it is infectious, and Dream stops his lips twitching into a smile, feeling proud that he got such a response. Even though he’s sure that Hob laughs a lot, freely and openly. “I have nothing else to do.” There is ― fantasy book drafts in his notebooks, scribbled ideas of clothes and fashion, something gothic and avant-garde that he’s on a rough deadline for, but, Lucienne did have a point, much as he didn’t want to agree with it. 

“Oh, now I have to step up my game,” Hob says, a quick brush shoulder-to-shoulder as someone comes over and motions for Hob to return to make-up, which Hob agrees to with a nod. “Can’t disappoint you, after all.” 

Hob leaves him with a smile, and Dream takes one of the tarts to nibble on, settling on the far wall as Hob gets back into the shoot, easy smiles and demeanour melting off for the broody and intensity of the character he’s portraying, Dream’s shoulder gently burning with the long-gone touches. 

-

Robert Gadling, he learns while looking up Hob’s other photoshoots, is also an actor, starring in smaller roles but slowly gaining traction. And on the day of the fated shoot, Dream tries not to think about that one particular photoshoot Hob was in as they get put into suits, Dream a classic black with a red dress shirt and black tie, hair styled into a windswept mess with the help of lots of hairspray.

And Hob in a matching suit, but with a deep purple shirt. The photoshoot that Dream stared at for a very long time while looking up his fellow model involved Hob in a sharp suit coat, leather gloves and pointed shoes, which he eventually figured out was being sold. And certainly not the idea of a Hob Gadling like that stepping on you, which Dream definitely didn’t think about in detail in bed, as he saved the pictures. 

The photographer, one Johanna Constantine, took a look at them and nodded before barking orders with the set, and Dream tugs at the bottom of his suit jacket, nervousness blooming as the reality of it all becomes more solid.

Their makeup is minimal, apart from lip gloss on Dream’s end. With eyeliner on Hob’s, brown eyes even more arresting as they stare at him. Constantine is still working things out it seems, as they sit in the make-up chairs, waiting for the call. “You good?” 

“Yes,” he says after a deep breath, the set, Hob, everything unlike that time, the harrowing time afterwards. Hob smiles and knocks their shoes together briefly. 

“Constantine may be a hard-ass, but she’ll listen. One time with her, well, she may have punched someone out because I kept saying it wasn’t nice,” Hob offers with a shrug and Dream gapes. “They were fine, of course, and she got into trouble for it, but she will take out anything that, you know,” Hob says, gesturing expansively towards the photographer, who Dream can’t stop himself from admiring now, just a bit. “She’s good to us models.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

-

The photoshoot starts off slow, some standing in the same room, white walls and glass tables, and a red chaise lounge. Eventually drifting closer and closer ― then Hob puts a blunt switchblade to the edge of his throat, the blade facing the camera as Dream is given his own blade, to put on the other side of Hob’s neck as the camera shutter constantly clicks. 

Dream can almost see the story unravelling as their blades are taken away, distrust but tension and his heart jumps into his throat as Hob pulls him closer by his tie, the length of it getting curled around his hand as they stare at each other. As Dream grabs onto the knot of Hob’s silk tie, loosening it. 

Constantine’s orders filter through a far-off place, pulse racing as Hob’s eyes become softer, awe and devotion showing as Dream leans closer, his cheek eventually pressing into the stubble of Hob’s chin, soft and prickly, hiding some of Hob’s face from the camera. “Okay, now look down,” Constantine says and he does, looking at his hand on Hob’s tie, at the soft skin of his neck. 

“Good?” Hob asks quietly, a breath against his ear and Dream swallows a shiver, never realising how cold he was, with Hob as a column of heat, almost engulfed with it as Hob’s other hand, not on his own tie, touches his hip. 

“No complaints,” he replies without moving his lips, voice an octave lower as the tension stretching between them as the hand on hip presses in, can feel nails over fabric and Dream turns his head, their noses brushing, lips almost― 

“Break time,” Constantine barks out and Dream almost swallows his tongue, frustration lingering as Hob moves away, dark eyes sharp and bright. Dream resists leaning back in, the cold of the room bracing as Hob smiles, a loose grip on his wrist pulling him along to the food table. 

“Didn’t think we were working that long,” Hob mumbles, letting go of his wrist to pick at some strawberries, and Dream hums. Blood rushing hot, Dream gets one of the cold cold cucumber sandwiches, nibbling it as the crisp cool refreshes him, and as Hob weaves stories of another set he was on, where every minute felt like an hour, not helped by how much of an entitled prick one of the main actor’s was. 

Dream listens attentively as they finish their food and are whisked off to get their make-up touched up, their jackets taken off. Soon enough, they’re back to the set, this time closer to the chaise. And very close, Hob’s body heat making his tingle― 

And then Dream has to put his hand on Hob’s cheek, greying stubble under his palm as Hob’s hands go to undo his tie, eyes dark and focused on his face. Once again, Constantine’s orders go to some distant place, overwhelmed by the feel of Hob, the soft skin and prickly stubble, his hand going down the other’s jaw, to the edge of stubble on his neck. 

Then Hob’s thumb traces up his neck, the touch scalding hot that Dream doesn’t even realise that Hob’s going back down to his shirt. Constantine’s now the top button comes through and something cold runs down Dream’s spine as Hob slowly unbuttons his shirt―then a second button and― 

He’s attracted to Hob, there’s no denying that, but the undercurrent of fear and disgust, of the shape of what he dealt with― 

“No,” someone says, and it takes for a moment to realise that he’s the one that said it as Hob pulls his hand away, Hob’s brows furrowing. The relief is immediate, guilt and disappointment following after, a complex tangle of emotions as Constantine makes a sound. 

“Hobsie, you okay with Dream undoing your shirt?” Constantine barks and Hob tenses, looking towards the photographer and nodding. “Dream?” 

Dream manages to tear his eyes away to look at Constantine, as he nods and takes his hands off of Hob, taking a step back to breathe. “I apologise,” he croaks.

Constantine scoffs, “nothin’ to apologise for. Now, stop slacking off,” she orders, lifting up her camera with an eyebrow raise. 

“What she said,” Hob says, briefly showing a bright smile and Dream rolls his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he steps closer, next breath filled with the lemon and bergamot of Hob’s cologne, of the warm fabric under his hands as they rest on Hob’s chest. 

Hob’s look becomes soft and intense as he undoes the first button of Hob’s shirt ― and he can hear Constantine grumbling, more to herself then them, this might be even better actually―considering Hob’s closer to the chaise lounge, as he gently forces Hob onto it, the awe in those lined brown eyes making him shiver. Or maybe it’s Hob’s hands going to his hips as Dream undoes another button, chest hair showing. 

The tips of Dream’s fingers tingle and twitch as he slowly unbuttons Hob’s shirt, brain caught on the soft patch of chest hair as he sits on top of Hob, thighs pressed against Hob’s hip, the other’s groin against his, a searing warmth under him as Hob reclines onto the chaise. 

Dream bites down a shiver as a thumb manages to get under his shirt, the hot touch of it on the skin under his shirt all he can focus on for the moment. Perfect. Make the people wish they were you, he hears Constantine say, and his first thought is that he wishes he was doing this without a full crew in the same room, as he reaches the end of Hob’s shirt, revealing a dark happy trail going into black trousers. Straddling Hob as he is, he can feel how wet he is and hopes that the other man doesn’t.

His insides clench as he stares at where their bodies meet, and a sound gets pulled from him as Hob’s hand ― furthest from the camera, brushes his jaw, forcing his head up, his eyes meeting Hob’s, and Dream’s own hands rest on the other’s stomach, dark hair under his fingers. 

Hob cups his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek in the same tempo of the one under his shirt and Dream’s mind crashes, his hands travelling up Hob’s chest, feeling hair under his fingers and Hob continues to stare at him, devotion simple to see. He can almost feel it, making his tingle as Hob looks up at him, as his hands go further up and his hands stop. 

Looking down, he can’t see the scars below Hob’s nipples, covered by hair, but he can feel them, a line of scars, reminding Dream of his own. Though, his own had been made more invisible, compared to the one’s on Hob, and he blinks, staring at Hob in surprise, whose eyebrows raise. 

Whatever thoughts he had about the revelation disappear as the hand under his shirt moves, fingers pressing into his lower back as Hob starts to sit up, his crotch pressed flush against Hob’s, as the other’s face rests on his shoulder, prickly stubble brushing against his neck. Constantine says something, but he can’t catch it over his heart beating in his ear, over the way Hob’s breaths take all his attention, the hand on his jaw moving down his throat, brushing against his shirt and eventually resting against his hip. 

“Meet with me after?” Hob asks quietly, and Dream suppresses a shiver at how he can feel Hob’s words from his chest, can feel his throat moving against his skin.

“And if I say no?” He wrangles out, voice low and the hand under his shirt digs into his skin momentarily as Hob moves back to look at him, eyeliner making the brown of his eyes seem even more darker and Dream tries not to lean in, caught in the gaze as he is.

“Then it’s a no,” Hob replies, shrugging lightly. “So?” 

Dream can count on one hand, the times he’s gone through with the simmering tension that’s happened on photoshoots, but this time it seems more inevitable than most, with the way that Hob seems to warm him up to his bones from the lightest of touches. “Perhaps.”

-

Hob’s car is a “silver monstrosity” as described by the man himself, but Dream’s not interested in it, only that it can get them to the hotel Hob’s staying at. With Hob in jeans and bright pink Miskatonic University hoodie that Hob’s wearing, he wants to get his hands on Hob’s scorching skin again, his own black skinny jeans and band shirt feeling restrictive at the thought. Rolling down the window to let some air in, as well as stopping to stare at his reflection as Hob starts the car, there’s only one thing on his mind ― well, two. “Robert. Really?” He asks, skeptical. 

Hob laughs and shrugs, “I started life with a fancy name, when really, I’m just a guy.” 

Dream squints at the other man, “just a guy,” he repeats, still skeptical. Hob offers another shrug, and the conversation swiftly moves on. Well, Hob picks another thing to talk about, the words relaxing him as he stares out the window, listening to Hob’s gossip from a recent acting job he’s working on.

The soft tones of Hob’s voice settles under his skin as they reach the hotel, and as they get into the mirrored elevator, he realises that Hob still has the eyeliner from the shoot on. Reaching the desired floor, Hob loosely holds his hand, pulling him along until Hob stops and gets out his keycard, opening the door to his room. “Tea? Coffee? Or…” Hob trails off as Dream gives him a flat stare, “it’s polite!”

“Or,” he drawls, leaning forward to kiss Hob, the door shutting behind him as he gets his hands on the other’s stubbled jaw again. An oh is exhaled against him as they move towards the queen-size bed, Hob’s hands gripping his waist as Dream straddles him once more as they continue to share messy kisses, with plenty of Dream biting at the stubble around his lips, the soft and prickly feeling against his tongue pleasing. 

“Whatever you want,” Hob says, mouth unoccupied as Dream bites down his jaw, forcing his head back as he sucks marks into the stubble under Hob’s jaw, pleasure fizzling in his veins at finally being able to do so. Hob’s skin is warm underneath him, and he can feel the other’s racing pulse against his tongue as Hob’s fingers dig into his hips. 

A hand goes into soft brown hair as they continue kissing, and Dream feels smug as he pulls away from it and Hob follows, biting into his lips. In between those, Dream tugs off Hob’s hoodie, then the threadbare grey shirt under it to put his other hand on Hob’s chest, hair curling around his fingers as they kiss again. 

Just like before, Hob’s hands trail under his shirt and he shivers, quickly taking his shirt off in between biting kisses, and Dream lets out a happy whine as his chest comes into contact with Hob’s, only just restraining himself from rubbing their chests together. Though, with the way Hob laughs into his mouth, the intent seems clear as he holds onto the other’s hair, flush against Hob’s chest as he slides down and―oh.

A hard feeling against his crotch, thoughts derailing as he looks down, unable to see anything past their chests pressed against each other. Hob gives him a look from under his lashes, chin resting against his collarbone, “had to wear one of those cock sleeves for our shoot, otherwise…” Hob trails off, and Dream lets out a moan as a hand caresses his spine as Hob blinks up at him, skin tingling as he swoops in for another kiss, deeper and filthier as he grinds down onto the hardness underneath him.

Hob’s free hand comes up to his neck, gripping it lightly, a thumb swiping across his cheek as they kiss, sloppy and wet as Dream bites into Hob’s lips, into the stubble surrounding his mouth as his insides twist with heat. He shivers as Hob’s other hand moves to his front, fingers trailing down the dark hair from his stomach, slowly undoing his pants, and he has to break the kiss to gasp as a hand goes inside―with Hob making a triumphant sound as a finger goes inside his cunt. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob whispers, beard scratching down his neck, teeth nipping as well and Dream shudders as another finger goes inside him, fingers curling and twisting and making pleasure spark behind his eyes as he desperately holds onto Hob’s shoulder, other hand going to his hair as he melts. “Is this for me?” 

He can only cry out as Hob’s fingers, skilled and so warm continue to curl inside, and he can feel himself leaking even more around them, as other fingers press against his folds, massaging him gently. “Hob,” he breathes, voice cracking as he grinds onto them. 

“It is,” Hob sounds amazed, and Dream opens his eyes, confused when he shut them as Hob ― stares at him, awe and admiration plain on his face as Hob’s fingers reach deeper, the slow steady bliss making it so Hob is all he can feel, the fingers and warth, the body heat surrounding him as he whines, Hob sucking on his collarbones and up his neck. “You feel so,” Hob groans, another finger being put inside his cunt and he shivers, one of his hands scratching down Hob’s chest. 

“Hob,” he keens, fluid leaking down his thighs, still feeling Hob’s hardness pressed against him―but nowhere close enough. “Need you inside.” 

The hardness against him twitches and Hob whines, licking up his throat as his fingers continue to twist and stretch inside him, “not yet.” Fingers brush against that spot inside, other fingers brushing against his clit and dick and he writhes, orgasm meeting him absurdly quickly and he can only gasp as Hob’s fingers press and curl maddeningly, still relentless through his orgasm, whimpering at come he can feel leaking around warm fingers. 

“Inside,” he orders, voice a croak as Hob laughs, licking up his neck―and Hob’s fingers are still inside as there’s an awkward shuffle to get rid of shoes and pants. With more laughter as from Hob as Dream squirms out of his skinny jeans, Hob’s other hand resting on the small of his back and not helping at all, as somehow he manages it while straddling Hob still, settling fully back onto Hob’s lap once naked, feeling hairy thighs and a hard cock pressed against him as he can’t help but kiss Hob more. 

“I don’t have, I wasn’t―” Hob mumbles says between feverish kisses, fingers twisting inside him and Dream groans, his own fingers tangling into Hob’s hair as he nibbles at the other’s bearded chin. 

“I’m clean,” he throws caution to the wind, and Hob stops, pulling back from the kiss to give him a shocked stare. Dream sets his jaw as Hob opens his mouth, shuts it. 

“I mean, I am too, but still,” Hob stutters, hand on his back fluttering with a gesture and Dream resists rolling his eyes, tugging Hob in by his hair for a kiss. Hob shudders, gasping into him and Dream hums in pride. “If you’re sure,” Dream tugs Hob’s hair, and Hob groans, cock twitching against his cunt, which Dream would rather die than to not feel it―”okay, okay,” Hob strangles out, something like fondness in his tone. 

The fingers leave him and he whines at the loss, looking down to watch as the other’s cock enters him, and Dream gasps at the thickness, the warmth of it, can feel Hob shake under him, nails gripping his hips tightly. “Yes,” he breathes, and Hob lets out a strangled swear as he takes the rest of Hob in, slamming down on his cock, and he moans at the feeling. 

“Dream,” Hob keens, a hand coming up to his throat, tugging him into a sloppy press of lips, and Dream moans at the feel of chest hair on his dick as he presses down, pulling himself up to settle into a rhythm, the cockhead inside of him hitting that spot that makes him see stars, warming him up from within as he squeezes around Hob’s cock. “Fuck.” 

Aside from Hob’s exclamations, there’s the sound of skin-on-skin, and Dream can feel sweat gathering on Hob’s chest―or maybe a mixture of sweat and slickness as he chases his the pleasure heating him up, the constant cold he’s been feeling chased away due to the heat from Hob.

Time has only passed by the slowly building pleasure as he continues to ride Hob’s cock, in no hurry even as Hob’s whines become even louder, teeth biting into his throat―and Dream’s next breath is punched out of him as a finger enters him, another―two fingers on the top of Hob’s cock, curling inside, the rest of the fingers pressing against his dick, and he comes with a whine, gasping into Hob’s hair as his walls squeeze the other’s cock. 

There’s a groan as Hob comes, even more fluids filling him, and he can feel it leaking around Hob’s cock, his fingers as they gather their breath. The fingers leave him, making him squeeze Hob’s softening dick tightly, “stay,” he gasps, resting his forehead against Hob’s temple as he throws his arms around the other’s shoulders. 

“Bossy,” Hob murmurs, smiling and Dream’s cunt leaks as Hob puts his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. “You know, I’d love to tug on your hair too, but I wouldn’t want to break it,” Hob’s other hand goes to the back of his neck and Dream scoffs, almost affronted as he touches it―

And he freezes, nose scrunching as he feels the tacky and stiff hairspray, still in it from the photoshoot. “A shower, then,” he proposes, then frowns, the feeling of Hob, even soft, not being inside him not something he wants to think about. “One more, then shower,” he amends. 

“What?” Hob pouts, arms going around his waist, dark eyes blinking up at him, “how about one more in the shower, a quick one, then we can come back to this?” Hob argues, eyes sparkling even with the harsh hotel lights. 

Dream works his jaw, pulling away from the other’s face with a sigh. “It might be acceptable.” 

“Might be,” Hob repeats, shaking his head and sighing, and Dream groans as Hob leaves him, sliding out from underneath as Hob puts a hand out, “come on. Sooner we shower, sooner we can get back,” Hob says with a wriggle of his fingers, eyes dark and sparkling.

Huffing, Dream curls up on the bed, hiding a smirk behind an arm as Hob’s eyes rove over him, “if you insist.”  

[Fin]

[pretty-weird-ideas]

This was literally the most harrowing piece of television I have watched in YEARS because it's just a lynching with no strings attached. And then I watched how white fans twisted themselves into knots to make the clear lynching seem like the evidence presented is actually punishable and entirely factual with no agenda attached.

The agenda is "How can we quickly lynch Claudia and Louis and make it a spectacle?", that's it, the information presented is all there to push the coven's agenda. If propaganda helicoptered itself on your face, you people still wouldn't get it.

"What they said about Louis is actually correct. He's unreliable as a narrator and we're finally getting his comeuppance." What about a lynch mob seems like a reliable source of information?

Quickly now! What about a clear metaphor for a lynching gives you the vibe of "unbiased information told to the audience that we should take to heart"? I'm genuinely scared of some of y'all because I'm getting the vibes that if someone told you a dude "whistled at a white woman" you would just go with it. Any bad-faith gum flapping about a black person would just be believed on the spot by some of you. The benefit of the doubt for Black people is nonexistent around here.

Question: Do you not take Fox News, Infowars, and alt-right media's depiction of POC seriously because you PERSONALLY can tell that it's racist and that the information is wrong? Or did society have to TELL you that it's racist and you know there's a social consequence to believing it? Do you hear racist language about real Black figures and you can tell that the source isn't trustworthy, or does someone have to come down from their ivory tower and regurgitate basic sense to you?

I'm starting to realize that this fandom doesn't understand racist agitprop... at all. They're only against racism when someone tells them it's racist and there are consequences to believing racist propaganda. Someone has to hold their hand and tell them that calling someone an "uppity violent Jezebel that should put out more" is racist. Someone has to tell them that racists who have an incentive to lie about Black people aren't reliable sources on Black people. And that is a level of incompetence that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Someone could literally list 30 antiblack stereotypes and someone would be like "What is wrong with calling a black person all of these at once?". People's cultural awareness is fucked.

And there's a learned incompetence as well here, a cycle. People refuse to understand that Black people are intentionally held under a harsher light and read in bad faith ways that consciously mimic stereotypes. "I only believe something is racist when others tell me that it's racist" and "I don't seek out people discussing racism so nobody is here to tell me what is racist" is a deadly fucking combo with this show.

Read literature, read about slavery, read about lynchings, read about Black Queer liberation, read about domestic violence, read about race and Monster theory. Like read SOMETHING. MY GOD.

The show is intentionally riffing off of historical and cultural subject matter, and white fans are purposefully not learning about it so that their lives aren't upended by the reality of current and past race relations and how it affects their own lives and fiction. You guys are lobotomizing yourselves so the show's basic principles aren't visible. Just because you do not understand racism or domestic violence doesn't mean that the show isn't talking about them and it's not just going over your head. Things going over the white audience's head does not mean it is not present.

Anyways... I keep saying that the people should collectively get my laptop taken away and it still hasn't happened so this post was penned. Take away my laptop or my posts will continue.

[featherwurm]

Ah, the Prismatic Rod - the Lower City's (and possibly Baulder's Gate as a whole's) finest purveyor of adult toys, novelties, costumes, and erotica. The colorful owner and shopkeep Rodrigo, a clever artificer with a phalloi familiar, keeps the place well stocked with all kinds of goodies (ask him about why he's here - it involves pissing off someone who gave him a sexual attraction to hornet's nests as comeuppance.) Tav and Karlach wanted to stop in for a lil something, so why not bring the whole damn crew:

Lae'zel and Astarion compare notes on costuming, she has opinions about durability and versatility. He learns new things about Gith every day.

Wyll and Shadowheart have their filthy book club, and have lots of opinions about all kinds of titles. They also have games like 'guess plot based on the title' and 'worst description of genitalia possible' ('Adult Beefswelling'* is the current top pick.)

Gale does love the beauty of magic in all it's many splendors.

Minsc has found the 'Jokes and Novelties' section and Jahira has seen quite enough for today.

Minthara** is surprisingly tolerant of topside commodities if they show decent attention to detail (Lae'zel "Chk, these could hardly damage a lone berbalang" Minthara "It is not about simply damage, dear Lae'zel - it is about inflicting the optimal amount of pain").

Halsin has no trouble with the offerings on show, certainly they're fun - but he has perfectly good hands, and a mouth, and various other body parts, this all just seems like gilding the lilly, you know?

Tav and Karlach find just what they're looking for. Their choices are beneath the cut:

Both go with variations of what is supposed to resemble a tiefling, more or less (Wyll wasn't kidding about the ridges). Tav's choice is more stylized and exaggerated (better for internal stimulation) and has about six inches of usable length. Karlach's is more literal (better for external) and has about seven inches. They both got lucky on color choices that amuse them.

*Frank Herbert - what the fuck.

** Sadly not in Tav's playthrough but she deserves this

[ilikekidsshows]

Usually I like a character with a red flag, that's why my list of favorite characters is mostly villain or dark hero because there's something intriguing about that type of character. For some times I've been wondering why Marinette just turned me off despite having the personality trait that I usually like and reading your responses to your asks just make me realize why.

She just has no interesting background story to back her red flagness. ._.

It just like you said, Naofumi has a reason why he choose to abandoned his heart and compassion. And it's not just Naofumi. Most if not all the fallen hero or villain characters has something, a reason, why they become a villain or fallen hero. Marinette has none.

She's. Just. Being. Spoiled. Rotten.

Even as a hero she also has nothing that make her as interesting character, she's literally a normal girl with a normal life who happen to part time as a hero just because a magical jewel happened to appear on her room.

I've seen people said Adrien has no motivation to be a hero, but I'd say it's Marinette who has none. Because if she has motivation to be a hero then she won't be as passive as she is.

Also, lately I've seen news about some DEI companies hiring that happened overseas and of there's DEI hiring in miraculous, Marinette would definitely be it. Because there's nothing bout her that screamed a hero, she just doesn't has it in her. I mean this is a girl who would wither away in almost every little inconvenience possible, she doesn't have that conviction to be a hero or even protecting anyone. If your hero need external validation for every inconvenience then maybe they're not a hero and shouldn't be one.

---

Exactly. Also, just like a lot of people are saying, Marinette’s descent into villainy could be interesting if that was what the writers were intending to do. If the point was that Marinette’s past of being coddled, excused and validated at every turn has led her to consider others as nothing more than existing for her benefit, that could be interesting in how the story chooses to tackle and resolve that. But that’s very much not what is happening. We’re supposed to side with her or at least be ready to forgive her the instant her lip wobbles and she cries about what a terrible person she is again. We’re supposed to think she’s justified or just stressed out. All of our sympathy should go to her instead of her victims just because she is Marinette, the greatest Ladybug ever.

Shows with villain or fallen hero protagonists acknowledge that what their protagonist is doing is morally wrong, so they put effort into making that protagonist someone you want to root for in other ways. They make the villainy over the top and entertaining, they give the protagonist an understandable reason to act the way they do so that the viewer can get into their head, or they make the opposition of the protagonist even worse and therefore deserving of comeuppance. I very much enjoyed Death Note in my youth while fully realizing Light was a villain protagonist, because the story does all of these things at some point during the manga's run.

Episodes like ‘Derision’, ‘Adoration’ and ‘Confrontation’ make it seem like the writers were, on some level, aware of Marinette’s lack of rootability, but they couldn’t bring themselves to cause her enough hardships to bring her to the level of characters like Naofumi. Chloé traumatized Marinette a year before the show, but in a way that it doesn’t really affect her at all except to excuse the way she acts around Adrien. Chloé and Lila try to frame Marinette for theft but fail immediately. Chloé and Lila mess with everyone’s school forms and something that should be resolved with everyone in class complaining instead requires Marinette to break the law to “expose” Lila and Chloé, but even that was a single-episode plot.

Despite all these efforts, the problem of rootability still persists, however, in that, outside of these two very specific characters, everyone is constantly showering Marinette or Ladybug in adoration. She isn’t entitled to the things she claims she is, like Adrien, and she isn’t enough of an underdog to justify her stepping on others to get to what she wants. But she still does it. She only hangs out with her friends to order them around to help her accomplish her goals and she constantly requires emotional support from the people around her for her nonexistent or self-caused problems while offering none in return.

[twelvemartha]

the doctor's dynamic with his companions is like the beating hearts of the show, yet for some reason the doctor is so tightlipped about his feelings for martha in particular. it's maddening. sure, the narrative will give us tiny moments of the doctor showing his appreciation of her and acknowledging her presence. martha jones i like you. martha jones you're a star. but what does he think about her? how does he view her? what is her significance to him?

we learn a lot about what martha thinks the doctor thinks about her. he's not seeing me he's just remembering. sometimes i think he likes me but sometimes i just think he needs someone. he doesn't even look at me but i don't care. it's never outright confirmed, but so many signs point to this being the case. the doctor is constantly putting up walls between the two of them, which martha tries so hard to break through. and there are times where it seems like she manages to, where the two of them have genuine moments of connection! only for the next episode to come along and destroy that progress, as if it never happened, and the doctor goes back to being distant and overlooking her.

this wouldn't be as big a deal as it is if there was some sort of comeuppance or catharsis at the end of s3. but in the final speech martha gives to the doctor before she goes, the focus is put on her unrequited love. again. the issue, rtd wants us to believe, is that the doctor doesn't reciprocate martha's romantic feelings for him. but that's not it. the real issue is that the doctor doesn't even treat martha as a proper person, a companion in her own right, a friend who he cherishes and wants to travel with because she's martha jones. instead, he acts as if she's just someone to keep around because he gets lonely on his own.

and so instead of the doctor rightly being called out for his callous treatment of martha, we just have the show brush this under the rug and act like the matter is resolved come s4. because at the end of the day, neither martha nor her relationship to the doctor matter. they never did to the show or its writers. they were just a vehicle to tell the true story, which has nothing to do with martha at all. (this is absolutely rooted in misogynoir btw.)

[ceruleanwhore]

In my soul, I feel disgusted and betrayed by this finale and I am shocked that the same writers who were able to give us such a truly wonderful show somehow came up with such a terrible ending for it. This episode directly opposes the very nature of the show more than any other episode in such a way that then calls into question the rest of the series. This episode feels every bit as hollow and sad as Ted himself seems to be throughout the finale and makes me wonder if we ever were actually supposed to believe and to hope at all in the first place, even though I thought that was the point of the series. 

The first of many issues I have with the episode is how they handled Rupert. The whole show is about belief, but specifically believing in others’ capacity for good and ability to change for the better. It’s about believing in redemption and reconciliation, which they actually could have done for Rupert even this late in the show. The scene in episode 10 where we get a glimpse of the inner child that’s still tucked away somewhere inside him showed us that even he still had this potential, up until they did what they did for the finale. While I, personally, tend to be more like Sassy was in that scene — gleefully cheering for the downfall of an odious scoundrel — it felt completely wrong for this show in particular to include that kind of public humiliation, which we the audience are all supposed to be cheering for, and in the middle of Ted’s last game ever with Richmond.

Where we actually could have used a side bit about a scoundrel getting his comeuppance is with Ted’s ex wife and their ex therapist. I think it’s absolutely terrible that they went and set up Rupert’s downfall the way they did while Jake apparently gets off scot free and never gets his license revoked or anything. There also is never really any acknowledgement of just how wrong what he did was, how he should have his license revoked, and how his actions call into question every bit of therapy Ted and Michelle got from him. No one ever questions ‘Oklahoma,’ never mind the entire divorce, relative to this man’s breach of ethics and it bothers me to no end that the most we get is his absence at the end from scenes with Ted, Michelle, and their son. We didn’t need Rupert dressing up like Darth Vader and physically assaulting someone, we needed Michelle realizing how completely wrong her whole relationship with Jake is, dumping him, and reporting him.

The next issue is Ted himself. Obviously, he was in a gloomy sort of mood throughout the whole episode, but I think it’s really important to point out how that didn’t actually clear up once he got home. I do believe he was happy to see his son but, from the plane ride onward, it’s like he’s just hollow. We see him coaching little league soccer for his kid and yet there isn’t any of the heart and soul in it that we’ve seen him put into his other coaching. It’s like he’s depressed, which is understandable because he just left a whole incredible, supportive community to come to Kansas where, like Odysseus at the end of the Oddyssey, he’s a stranger in his own home. He goes from having a whole city around him to support him to seemingly having nothing and not even being a welcome member of his own family since he’s still divorced. Also, as others have pointed out, that montage that seems to be a dream sequence when he’s on the plane ride home is all about him writing himself out of the lives of everyone he just left behind. He’s decided that it’s better for everyone there to just forget about him and move on with their lives as though he was never there and he’s literally dreaming about how happy they’ll be to do that. 

This is a major thematic issue for this series because one of the main points of the series is the idea that everyone can change for the better and, more importantly, just about every character does. Ted spends all that time in England working on his own shit like everyone else, and even gets over his aversion to therapy in order to seek help for the first time ever, just to throw all of that away at the very end because apparently he’s just back on his bs and that’s it. This is where it would maybe be alright if there were another season after this one to address and fix this, but there isn’t. In the very last episode of the whole thing he’s throwing away his entire community, dreaming about how happy they’ll be without him, and there’s nothing and no one there correcting that. To me, this is like if right at the end of the last episode with no room left to fix it, they just had Beard go steal another car and then act like the audience is supposed to be okay with it.

The other thing, going off of that, is how they handled some of the relationships, and I specifically want to start off by talking about Ted and Rebecca. They have the distinction of being the only ship to truly be baited, more than once, and very unnecessarily so. The bait scene at the start of the final episode contributes nothing to the plot, the characters, or their relationship with each other — all it does is mock the members of the audience who were foolish enough to believe they ever could have been together. This, to me, also goes against the core values and themes of the show, because ship baiting like that is inherently mean-spirited and Ted Lasso at its core is meant to be kind. There is nothing kind about essentially dangling something over someone’s head, playing keep away with it, until you finally just chuck it in the river and laugh at the person for being so foolish as to think they were ever going to get it. It’s mean for the sake of being mean and again, for the umpteenth time, it contributes nothing.

So then let’s get to Roy, Jamie, and Keeley. Jamie and Roy are another example of a strong relationship that’s developed beautifully over the course of three seasons regressing at the very end because oh no, people ship it and we can’t have that. I do think that Keeley turning both of them down was necessary but Roy and Jamie literally getting into a fistfight over her was completely unnecessary and detrimental to their individual characters. By this point, they both are mature enough and respect Keeley enough that it’s genuinely ooc for them to be fighting each other about who gets to date her while she’s not even there. Season 3 Jamie and Roy would’ve been leaving the decision to her without reverting back to macho Neanderthal crap. 

To me, this is also about the creators recognizing that people in the fandom have ships and, for whatever reason, feeling the need to try and shut that down rather than just leaving well alone. If, instead of getting in a fight like they did, Roy and Jamie had a conversation about their shared experiences of wanting to be with Keeley but not knowing where they stand with her and recognizing how hard it is for each other, then it could end up contributing to the further growth of their relationship and, along with it, shipping and oh no, we can’t have that. Just like with Avatar: the Last Airbender, the presence or lack of romantic relationships is not the issue here, the problem is with writers accidentally setting up an incredibly compelling ship and then being like “oops, we didn’t mean to do that,” and trying to ctrl z it in the finale, at the detriment of the whole story. Why oh why do writers keep feeling the need to sacrifice the quality of their whole story for the sake of trying to get people to stop having opinions?

So then last up is Ted and Trent. As many others have pointed out, that bit where Ted’s reading the book and makes that comment about the ‘laugh police’ in response to Trent’s excitement and anxiety is extremely out of character. Ted “but he’s our dork” Lasso would never say that and I was horrified to hear those words come out of his mouth. However, this goes in with the destruction of his entire character arc and every bit of growth he’s done throughout the past three seasons all in this one episode, because that was him actively pushing Trent away because, as previously acknowledged, he’s back on his bs.

One issue with this is that Ted then never has a proper goodbye with Trent and the closest thing to that is the note he left asking Trent to change the title of the book. It’s not that I necessarily think he needed individual goodbyes on screen with every other character but Trent in particular was hugely important for Ted, like how Rebecca was. Do you really mean to tell me that Ted wouldn’t actually say goodbye to the journalist who wrote what, coming from him at the time, was essentially a glowing review when he was actually hired with the intention of destroying Ted’s career? Do you mean to say he wouldn’t get a proper goodbye with the man who threw away his whole career over him? The man who then decided the first thing he wanted to do after leaving said career was to write a book about him and his team? Seriously?

The other thing with Trent is that, where Ted’s ex wife and even Rebecca have felt the need to use ‘Oklahoma’ with him to get him to tell the truth, Trent has a talent for discerning the exact truth from Ted regardless of what he does or does not say. It would have been perfectly in character for him to go talk to Ted like Rebecca tried to but then actually succeed where she failed because he would be able to clearly read Ted’s signals and throw that all back at him. Unlike Rebecca, he could directly call out how much Ted didn’t actually want to leave.

That is actually the biggest issue this episode had — cowardice. The only reason I can think of why they wouldn’t even consider doing something like what I just described is because, like with Roy and Jamie, they are perfectly aware of the chemistry between those characters and how they have set them up so it reads like they’re in love with each other, and a scene like this would be just about impossible to do without coming across as romantic. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Ted and Trent would’ve already been snogging by the start of the season if one of them were a woman. This show did the thing where they’ve decided that they can have a couple gay characters, but those characters can only get with specifically devised side characters because God forbid you just have your two existing characters of the same gender kiss a bit. Between the pairings of Ted and Trent, and Roy and Jamie, there is enough textual evidence of mutual attraction and the potential for real, romantic relationships that one could write over a hundred pages about it, and that is not an exaggeration. When I look at this finale, one of the things I see is the titular character being destroyed because they decided that was better than letting people think that he could maybe not be straight.

The last issue I have here is that there really were no goodbyes. Rebecca showed up at the airport and that’s it and I thought that was very weird and, again, very much not in accordance with the entire rest of the show. Even if they didn’t have the entire team show up at the airport to say goodbye, it didn’t make sense to not even have just the Diamond Dogs show up for that. Where tf was everyone? Because just from watching the whole rest of the show, I think it would be impossible not to expect the team, the dogs, the folks from the pub and maybe also Shannon from town. It was a cold, empty departure far from fitting for the show at all and it left me coming out of that finale feeling cold and empty from the crippling disappointment. They had a whole show centered around interpersonal relationships and support and then had the coldest, loneliest ending anyone there could have devised.

My final thought here is that this is not an ending and the only way to salvage this wreckage is with another season. This feels like something they’re doing to drum up attention and interaction so that it’ll be successful when they do come in and announce that they’ve changed their minds and there will be another season, like an encore at a concert. However, if this really is the end, then I am absolutely disgusted and feel very betrayed right now because this show told me to believe and taught me that maybe hope isn’t actually a bad thing that’s out to get me, just to turn around and crap all over that. This show didn’t just apparently waste hours of my time, it was actually helping to get me to move on from past pain and start to accept hope as a good thing, until it shattered mine. They desecrated the very art they created and then expected the audience to applaud such disrespectful destruction, and I am disgusted by it.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Francis Spufford’s “Cahokia Jazz”

Tomorrow (December 5), I'm at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill, NC, with my new solarpunk novel The Lost Cause, which 350.org's Bill McKibben called "The first great YIMBY novel: perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."

Francis Spufford's Cahokia Jazz is a fucking banger: it's a taut, unguessable whuddunit, painted in ultrablack noir, set in an alternate Jazz Age in a world where indigenous people never ceded most the west to the USA. It's got gorgeously described jazz music, a richly realized modern indigenous society, and a spectacular romance. It's amazing:

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Cahokia-Jazz/Francis-Spufford/9781668025451

Cahokia is the capital city of Deseret, a majority Catholic, majority indigenous state at the western frontier of the USA. It swirls with industry, wealth, and racial politics, serving as both a refuge from Jim Crow and a hive of Klan activity. Joe Barrow is new in town, a veteran who survived the trenches of WWI and moved to Cahokia with his army buddy, Phineas Drummond, where they both quickly rose through the police ranks to become detectives.

We meet Joe and Phin on a frigid government building rooftop in the predawn night, attending a grisly murder. Someone has laid out a man across a skylight, cut his throat, split his chest open, and excised his heart. This Aztec-inspired killing points at Cahokian indigenous independence gangs, some of whom embrace an apocryphal tale of being descended from Mesoamerican conquerors in the distant past. That makes this more than a mere ugly killing – it's a political flashpoint.

The Klan insists that Cahokia's system of communal land ownership is a form of communism (Russia never ceded Alaska in this world, so the USSR is now extending tendrils across the Bering Strait). They also insist that Cahokians' reverence for the Sun and the Moon – indigenous royals who have formally ceded power to elected leaders – makes them a threat to democracy. Finally, the Cahokians' fusion of Catholocism with traditional faith makes the spritually suspect. A rooftop blood-sacrifice could cause simmering political tension to boil over, and for ever white oligarch drooling at the thought of enclosing the shared land of Deseret, there are a thousand useful idiots in white hoods.

Joe and Phin now have to solve the murder – before the city explodes. But Phin seems more interested in pinning the case on an Indian – any Indian – than he is on solving the murder. And Joe – an indigenous orphan who has neither the language nor the culture that the Cahokians expect him to have – is reappraising his long habit of deferring to Phin.

This is the setup for a delicious whodunnit with a large helping of what if…? but Spufford doesn't stop there. Joe, you see, is a jazz pianist, and his old bandmates are back in town, and one thing leads to another and before you know it he's sitting in with them at a speakeasy. This gives Spufford a chance to roll out some of the most evocative, delicious descriptions of jazz since Doctorow's Ragtime (no relation):

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/41529/ragtime-by-e-l-doctorow/9780812978186

It's not just the jazz. This is a book that fires on every cylinder: there's brilliant melee (and a major battle set-piece that's stunning), a love storyline, gunplay, and a murder mystery that kept me guessing right to the end. There's fakeouts and comeuppances, bravery and treachery, and above all, a sense of possibility.

Most of what I know about Cahokia – and the giant mounds it left behind near St Louis – I learned from David Graeber and David Wengrow's brilliant work of heterodox history, The Dawn of Everything:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/08/three-freedoms/#anti-fatalism

Graeber and Wengrow's project is to make us reassess the blank spaces in our historical record, the ways of living that we have merely guessed at, based on fragments and suppositions. They point out that these inferences are vastly overdetermined, and that there are many other guesses that fit the facts equally well, or even better. This is a powerful message, one that insists that history – and thus the future – is contingent and up for grabs. We don't have to live the way we do, and we haven't always lived this way. We might live differently in the future.

In evoking a teeming, indigenous metropolis, conjured out of minor historical divergences, Spufford follows Graeber and Wengrow in cracking apart inevitability and letting all the captive possibility flow out. The fact that he does this in a first rate novel makes the accomplishment doubly impressive – and enjoyable.

It's EFF's Power Up Your Donation Week: this week, donations to the Electronic Frontier Foundation are matched 1:1, meaning your money goes twice as far. I've worked with EFF for 22 years now and I have always been - and remain - a major donor, because I've seen firsthand how effective, responsible and brilliant this organization is. Please join me in helping EFF continue its work!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/04/cahokia/#the-sun-and-the-moon