#but it's one of the few sections in which she admits to her own critical thoughts on the church

[maiathebee]

But living in community is saving Ammon.  He is learning not to give the ready answer to every problem, not to be surprised at criticism, at the nagging that goes with community life.  He is learning to recognize that all men have their various talents, physical, mental and spiritual. That the vocation of one is not the vocation of all.

Dorothy Day on her friend, at the time a fellow-Catholic Worker and always an activist, Ammon Hennacy, who later of a heart attack that came while picketing the Death Penalty in Salt Lake City.

[bitsandbobsfromrandomfandoms]

Sometimes I think there is a lot of internalized misogyny that shows up in fanfiction that remains unaddressed because it's so hard to talk about.

It is practically against fandom etiquette to think critically about fanfiction. I even feel very icky doing it when I know that many writers and artists churn out their content for free.

I have nothing but deep love and respect for fan-content creators. (From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your service 🫡)

But there are a lot of underground aspects about fandom that goes unacknowledged because even as I sense them, it feels ephemeral and intangible. I’m only one person, I don’t think I know how to articulate this much less speak of it with any kind of conviction.

So for the sake of that, I'm going to try and chip away at it and see if the words come over-time.

My more critical opinions are posted here and not in the comment section on ao3 because I have no desire to truly discourage anyone.

And first, let me just say I truly loved this story. I enjoyed the bloody shit out of it.

Draco's snarky, unfailing sense of humour even in face of utter tragedy was just chef's kiss.

10/10 recommend.

But there is one bone I want to pick and it's this:

It is established that by the end of the story, that Harry has fallen in love with Draco but chose to go back to his wife.

Why? Because he wants to have a family and children which was the reason he and Ginny were fighting to begin with and since Draco can't give him that, they both agree to end things.

Draco himself, has a very beneficial arrangement with his wife since she is also gay and they're acting as each other's beards but we see nothing of Harry's relationship with Ginny.

So my question is, what is she in this story besides a glorified baby-maker?

Draco and Harry eventually end up back together when their children are grown and they are middle-aged men. Harry even jokes that Ginny thinks he's gay and Draco says "10 points to Gryffindor".

Which is funny because at the beginning of the story, when Draco was giving advice under the guise of Lavender Brown to the man who wrote to Prophet, Draco advises him to break-up with his wife so she wouldn't lose years of her life with someone who couldn't want her back the same way:

She is young enough to start again with someone else. You want bitter? Denying you're gay and then finally admitting this to her when she's forty-five is sure to warrant her casting at least three different castration charms in your direction. And I wouldn't blame her.

And yet this is exactly what Harry does to Ginny.

This isn't so much a criticism as it is an observation that Harry was extremely selfish and cruel.

On top of that, I have a few more bones to pick at but none of them are as big or as important as the first one. They're just little things to be mindful of to maintain the distinction between good story-telling and reality.

The first is that, Harry in this story was healer and it was so much fun to see him take on this role since there are so many stories that feature Draco as a healer. But in this story, he was sacrificing his own life's energy to save people who would otherwise die. A physical consequence of doing this was his constant fatigue and how he seems to be just as thin and gaunt as Draco, who is somewhat starved and malnourished in this story.

In real life, when someone is prone to such extremes of behavior, they don't just stop doing what they are doing because someone asked them to. It's something of a compulsion or an addiction to them. So if the story was realistic, and Harry was actually absorbing other people's deaths, he wouldn't stop simply because Draco asked him to, he would continue to do what he was doing but hide it better.

There was also the strange role-reversal that took place after Harry saved Narcissa where instead of Draco thanking him, it was the other way around because Draco made him promise to stop. This isn't bad per se, but since I'm something of an expert in abusive relationships, something that comes up often in situations of lamp-shading or gaslighting is that the person who is being gaslighted is usually expressing the sentiment that in the given circumstances, it makes more sense for the other person to be expressing. So I'm hyperaware of that even though it may not necessarily apply here.

My last nitpicking is that Draco does not seem to have any sexual trauma because all the coercion and assault he's endured. Again, realistically this is unlikely. People who have gone through what he did don't walk out of the same way. And yet, apart from the physical damage to his knees, psychologically, he seems fine. I don't think this is so much of a complaint because I realise that if the story did address sexual trauma, it wouldn't be as light-hearted and enjoyable as it was. So I like to think that this is something that Draco might've had to come to terms with, off-screen.

I really did love the story but off-late, I'm more mindful of the way women are written in fanfiction because I really think that part of the reason m/m fanfiction is so much fun to read is because it never has to address to complex social dynamics that exist between men and women.

It's a space where women get to ignore the nature of living in a patriarchal world. Where sexuality isn't immediately conflated with shame or submission. Where the characters can engage in recklessness or risky behaviors without losing their relatability or be blamed for it. Where both characters seem to just be on more even footing than if one of them were a woman?

Urghh. I don’t think I’m explaining this well at all.

But I have to wonder that there are a lot of underground implications for why women go in for this kind of thing. And what it means when female characters are treated the way Ginny was in this fic?

I’ve noticed that even in many f/m fanfictions, there is this tendency to place female characters in situations of bondage or enslavement. Or they are reduced or disempowered in some way.

It’s going to take long time before I fully understand what's truly going on under the surface here.

I also think that, for straight women, reading about men in sexual situations will always be more gratifying than reading about women, because it’s what we are naturally attracted to x2. Maybe that’s why men are also very titillated by lesbian porn 🤷‍♀️

[reallyrandomtj]

MOVED FROM SIDE BLOG:

The brain rot remains strong for these two thanks to our ( @lunaetis ) Discord conversations. As it remains the PERFECT examples of how I see MY Dr. Ratio muse dealing with affection from an high energy individual such as Eden. His beloved RACCOON.

BEFORE they start dating:

Ratio gets absolutely 'bombarded' with affection from Eden; biggest offender? Eden trying to sit or lay on him ( like a cat ) if he is seated or laying down. He however makes no physical effort to remove her, only verbally questioning what she was doing EVERY TIME as if it will do anything to stop Eden from doing it again.

All 'affection' Ratio shows Eden is PRIVATE; main habit is that he walks up and 'hugs' her from behind ( his hands on Eden's hips but not an actual physical hug in the normal sense ) and then he leans his face to 'rest/nest' in her hair. RARELY kisses the back of her head; usually followed by a comment of 'too loud' especially in the mornings and his brilliant mind is trying to wake up.

Notices via body language when Eden is NOT in a 'stable' mindset; such as anxiety, self doubt or feelings like she isn't strong enough to protect innocent people from harm ( while trailblazing ). Ratio simply 'distracts' Eden with a verbal conversation in private.

Has the cutest look of confusion when Eden kisses him.

AFTER they start dating:

Most likely waits an ENTIRE YEAR before asking Eden out; doesn't hesitate to accept if Eden makes the request first ( as long as it isn't within 3 months of them spending time together 'full time' in his eyes - Ratio will likely answer "now isn't the time" to delay giving a proper answer until he has sorted his own thoughts ).

Is much open to being affectionate; but still mainly privately. Ratio still enjoys 'hugging' Eden from behind and burying his face in her hair ONLY now it has evolved to ACTUALLY holding her 'properly' and close to his own body. Another habit he would develop is approaching and hugging Eden from the front! Majority of the time using his fingers against her chin to 'assist' his girlfriend from focusing on HIS EYES and NOT his chest while he speaks.

Deals with physical anxiety/panic attacks by approaching Eden, standing behind her with one arm loosely around her mid section ( in case her legs gave out; to which he slowly helps her to a sitting up position on the ground while he is likely in a kneeling one ) and the other covering Eden's eyes to block out external stimuli ( every time Ratio will quietly apologize verbally before shielding her eyes ) and he attempts to distract Eden by speaking to her.

Ratio is painfully aware that his 'physical' approach to dealing with his girlfriends anxiety/panic attacks could prove more harmful than helpful. HOWEVER at this point in their relationship his tone of voice is less 'harsh' and Eden would likely have admitted that 'some times' his voice helped calm her down. THAT is the only reason why he would take a 'physical' approach to the situation and only during episodes of Eden potentially becoming a danger to not just herself but innocent bystanders - best example: The Stellaron within Eden goes 'critical' and WELT isn't nearby.

BIGGEST sign of trust for Ratio in any intimate relationship is when HE is the first to offer sharing a bath together; its his 'temple' and only very few may enter.

In conclusion:

Ratio has 'NO CLUE' as to why Eden was so 'forward' with affection from the very beginning of spending time together; YET he did not find the experience to be unpleasant and silently enjoyed getting to know her better. To the point HE challenged himself to be more open in smaller amounts until they officially start to DATE.

[sunaleisocial]

Professor Emerita Mary-Lou Pardue, pioneering cellular and molecular biologist, dies at 90

New Post has been published on https://sunalei.org/news/professor-emerita-mary-lou-pardue-pioneering-cellular-and-molecular-biologist-dies-at-90/

Professor Emerita Mary-Lou Pardue, pioneering cellular and molecular biologist, dies at 90

Professor Emerita Mary-Lou Pardue, an influential faculty member in the MIT Department of Biology, died on June 1. She was 90.

Early in her career, Pardue developed a technique called in situ hybridization with her PhD advisor, Joseph Gall, which allows researchers to localize genes on chromosomes. This led to many discoveries, including critical advancements in developmental biology, our understanding of embryonic development, and the structure of chromosomes. She also studied the remarkably complex way organisms respond to stress, such as heat shock, and discovered how telomeres, the ends of chromosomes, in fruit flies differ from those of other eukaryotic organisms during cell division.

“The reason she was a professor at MIT, and why she was doing research, was first and foremost because she wanted to answer questions and make discoveries,” says longtime colleague and Professor Emerita Terry Orr-Weaver. “She had her feet cemented in a love of biology.”

In 1983, Pardue was the first woman in the School of Science at MIT to be inducted into the National Academy of Sciences. She chaired the Section of Genetics from 1991 to 1994 and served as a council member from 1995 to 1998. Among other honors, she was named a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, where she served as a council member, and a fellow of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. She also served on numerous editorial boards and review panels, and as the vice president, president, and chair of the Genetics Society of America and president of the American Society for Cell Biology.

In the 1990s, Pardue was also one of 16 senior women on MIT’s science faculty who co-signed a letter to the dean of science claiming bias against women scientists at the Institute at the time. As a result of this letter and a subsequent study of conditions for women at the Institute, MIT in 1999 publicly admitted to having discriminated against its female faculty, and made plans to rectify the problem — a process that ultimately served as a model for academic institutions around the nation. 

Her graduate students and postdocs included Alan Spradling, Matthew Scott, Tom Cech, Paul Lasko, and Joan Ruderman.

Play video

A Conversation with Mary-Lou Pardue Video: Department of Biology

In the minority

Pardue was born on Sept. 15, 1933, in Lexington, Kentucky. She received a BS in biology from the College of William and Mary in 1955, and she earned an MS in radiation biology from the University of Tennessee in 1959. In 1970, she received a PhD in biology for her work with Gall at Yale University.

Pardue’s career was inextricably linked to the slowly rising number of women with advanced degrees in science. During her early years as a graduate student at Yale, there were a few women with PhDs — but none held faculty positions. Indeed, Pardue assumed she would spend her career as a senior scientist working in someone else’s lab, rather than running her own.

Pardue was an avid hiker and loved to travel and spend time outdoors. She scaled peaks from the White Mountains to the Himalayas and pursued postdoctoral work in Europe at the University of Edinburgh. She was delighted to receive invitations to give faculty search seminars for the opportunity to travel to institutions across the United States — including an invitation to visit MIT.

MIT had initially rejected her job application, although the department quickly realized it had erred in missing the opportunity to recruit the talented Pardue. In the end, she spent more than 30 years as a professor in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

When Pardue joined, the biology department had two female faculty members, Lisa Steiner and Annamaria Torriani-Gorini — more women than at any other academic institution Pardue had interviewed. Pardue became an associate professor of biology in 1972, a professor in 1980, and the Boris Magasanik Professor of Biology in 1995.

“The person who made a difference”

Pardue was known for her rigorous approach to science as well as her bright smile and support of others.

When Graham Walker, the American Cancer Society and Howard Hughes Medical Institute (HHMI) professor, joined the department in 1976, he recalled an event for meeting graduate students at which he was repeatedly mistaken for a graduate student himself. Pardue parked herself by his side to bear the task of introducing the newest faculty member.

“Mary-Lou had an art for taking care of people,” Walker says. “She was a wonderful colleague and a close friend.”

As a young faculty member, Troy Littleton — now a professor of biology, the Menicon Professor of Neuroscience, and investigator at the Picower Institute for Learning and Memory — had his first experience teaching with Pardue for an undergraduate project lab course.

“Observing how Mary-Lou was able to get the students excited about basic research was instrumental in shaping my teaching skills,” Littleton says. “Her passion for discovery was infectious, and the students loved working on basic research questions under her guidance.”

She was also a mentor for fellow women joining the department, including E.C. Whitehead Professor of Biology and HHMI investigator Tania A. Baker, who joined the department in 1992, and Orr-Weaver, the first female faculty member to join the Whitehead Institute in 1987.

“She was seriously respected as a woman scientist — as a scientist,” recalls Nancy Hopkins, the Amgen Professor of Biology Emerita. “For women of our generation, there were no role models ahead of us, and so to see that somebody could do it, and have that kind of respect, was really inspiring.”

Hopkins first encountered Pardue’s work on in situ hybridization as a graduate student. Although it wasn’t Hopkins’s field, she remembers being struck by the implications — a leap in science that today could be compared to the discoveries that are possible because of the applications of gene-editing CRISPR technology.

“The questions were very big, but the technology was small,” Hopkins says. “That you could actually do these kinds of things was kind of a miracle.”

Pardue was the person who called to give Hopkins the news that she had been elected to the National Academy of Sciences. They hadn’t worked together to that point, but Hopkins felt like Pardue had been looking out for her, and was very excited on her behalf.

Later, though, Hopkins was initially hesitant to reach out to Pardue to discuss the discrimination Hopkins had experienced as a faculty member at MIT; Pardue seemed so successful that surely her gender had not held her back. Hopkins found that women, in general, didn’t discuss the ways they had been undervalued; it was humiliating to admit to being treated unfairly.

Hopkins drafted a letter about the systemic and invisible discrimination she had experienced — but Hopkins, ever the scientist, needed a reviewer.

At a table in the corner of Rebecca’s Café, a now-defunct eatery, Pardue read the letter — and declared she’d like to sign it and take it to the dean of the School of Science.

“I knew the world had changed in that instant,” Hopkins says. “She’s the person who made the difference. She changed my life, and changed, in the end, MIT.”

MIT and the status of women

It was only when some of the tenured women faculty of the School of Science all came together that they discovered their experiences were similar. Hopkins, Pardue, Orr-Weaver, Steiner, Susan Carey, Sylvia Ceyer, Sallie “Penny” Chisholm, Suzanne Corkin, Mildred Dresselhaus, Ann Graybiel, Ruth Lehmann, Marcia McNutt, Molly Potter, Paula Malanotte-Rizzoli, Leigh Royden, and Joanne Stubbe ultimately signed a letter to Robert Birgeneau, then the dean of science.

Their efforts led to a Committee on the Status of Women Faculty in 1995, the report for which was made public in 1999. The report documented pervasive bias against women across the School of Science. In response, MIT ultimately worked to improve the working conditions of women scientists across the Institute. These efforts reverberated at academic institutions across the country.

Walker notes that creating real change requires a monumental effort of political and societal pressure — but it also requires outstanding individuals whose work surpasses the barriers holding them back.

“When Mary-Lou came to MIT, there weren’t many cracks in the glass ceiling,” he says. “I think she, in many ways, was a leader in helping to change the status of women in science by just being who she was.”

Later years

Kerry Kelley, now a research laboratory operations manager in the Yilmaz Lab at the Koch Institute for Integrative Cancer Research, joined Pardue as a technical lab assistant in 2008, Kelley’s first job at MIT. Pardue, throughout her career, was committed to hands-on work, preparing her own slides whenever possible.

“One of the biggest things I learned from her was mistakes aren’t always mistakes. If you do an experiment, and it doesn’t turn out the way you had hoped, there’s something there that you can learn from,” Kelley says. She recalls a frequent refrain with a smile: “‘It’s research. What do you do? Re-search.’”

Their birthdays were on consecutive days in September; Pardue would mark the occasion for both at Legal Seafoods in Kendall Square with bluefish, white wine, and lab members and collaborators including Kelley, Karen Traverse, and the late Paul Gregory DeBaryshe.

In the years before her death, Pardue resided at Youville House Assisted Living in Cambridge, where Kelley would often visit.

“I was sad to hear of the passing of Mary-Lou, whose seminal work expanded our understanding of chromosome structure and cellular responses to environmental stresses over more than three decades at MIT. Mary-Lou was an exceptional person who was known as a gracious mentor and a valued teacher and colleague,” says Amy Keating, head of the Department of Biology, the Jay A. Stein (1968) Professor of Biology, and professor of biological engineering. “She was kind to everyone, and she is missed by our faculty and staff. Women at MIT and beyond, including me, owe a huge debt to Mary-Lou, Nancy Hopkins, and their colleagues who so profoundly advanced opportunities for women in science.”

She is survived by a niece and nephew, Sarah Gibson and Todd Pardue.

[jcmarchi]

Professor Emerita Mary-Lou Pardue, pioneering cellular and molecular biologist, dies at 90

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/professor-emerita-mary-lou-pardue-pioneering-cellular-and-molecular-biologist-dies-at-90/

Professor Emerita Mary-Lou Pardue, pioneering cellular and molecular biologist, dies at 90

Professor Emerita Mary-Lou Pardue, an influential faculty member in the MIT Department of Biology, died on June 1. She was 90.

Early in her career, Pardue developed a technique called in situ hybridization with her PhD advisor, Joseph Gall, which allows researchers to localize genes on chromosomes. This led to many discoveries, including critical advancements in developmental biology, our understanding of embryonic development, and the structure of chromosomes. She also studied the remarkably complex way organisms respond to stress, such as heat shock, and discovered how telomeres, the ends of chromosomes, in fruit flies differ from those of other eukaryotic organisms during cell division.

“The reason she was a professor at MIT, and why she was doing research, was first and foremost because she wanted to answer questions and make discoveries,” says longtime colleague and Professor Emerita Terry Orr-Weaver. “She had her feet cemented in a love of biology.”

In 1983, Pardue was the first woman in the School of Science at MIT to be inducted into the National Academy of Sciences. She chaired the Section of Genetics from 1991 to 1994 and served as a council member from 1995 to 1998. Among other honors, she was named a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, where she served as a council member, and a fellow of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. She also served on numerous editorial boards and review panels, and as the vice president, president, and chair of the Genetics Society of America and president of the American Society for Cell Biology.

In the 1990s, Pardue was also one of 16 senior women on MIT’s science faculty who co-signed a letter to the dean of science claiming bias against women scientists at the Institute at the time. As a result of this letter and a subsequent study of conditions for women at the Institute, MIT in 1999 publicly admitted to having discriminated against its female faculty, and made plans to rectify the problem — a process that ultimately served as a model for academic institutions around the nation. 

Her graduate students and postdocs included Alan Spradling, Matthew Scott, Tom Cech, Paul Lasko, and Joan Ruderman.

In the minority

Pardue was born on Sept. 15, 1933, in Lexington, Kentucky. She received a BS in biology from the College of William and Mary in 1955, and she earned an MS in radiation biology from the University of Tennessee in 1959. In 1970, she received a PhD in biology for her work with Gall at Yale University.

Pardue’s career was inextricably linked to the slowly rising number of women with advanced degrees in science. During her early years as a graduate student at Yale, there were a few women with PhDs — but none held faculty positions. Indeed, Pardue assumed she would spend her career as a senior scientist working in someone else’s lab, rather than running her own.

Pardue was an avid hiker and loved to travel and spend time outdoors. She scaled peaks from the White Mountains to the Himalayas and pursued postdoctoral work in Europe at the University of Edinburgh. She was delighted to receive invitations to give faculty search seminars for the opportunity to travel to institutions across the United States — including an invitation to visit MIT.

MIT had initially rejected her job application, although the department quickly realized it had erred in missing the opportunity to recruit the talented Pardue. In the end, she spent more than 30 years as a professor in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

When Pardue joined, the biology department had two female faculty members, Lisa Steiner and Annamaria Torriani-Gorini — more women than at any other academic institution Pardue had interviewed. Pardue became an associate professor of biology in 1972, a professor in 1980, and the Boris Magasanik Professor of Biology in 1995.

“The person who made a difference” 

Pardue was known for her rigorous approach to science as well as her bright smile and support of others.

When Graham Walker, the American Cancer Society and Howard Hughes Medical Institute (HHMI) professor, joined the department in 1976, he recalled an event for meeting graduate students at which he was repeatedly mistaken for a graduate student himself. Pardue parked herself by his side to bear the task of introducing the newest faculty member.

“Mary-Lou had an art for taking care of people,” Walker says. “She was a wonderful colleague and a close friend.”

As a young faculty member, Troy Littleton — now a professor of biology, the Menicon Professor of Neuroscience, and investigator at the Picower Institute for Learning and Memory — had his first experience teaching with Pardue for an undergraduate project lab course.

“Observing how Mary-Lou was able to get the students excited about basic research was instrumental in shaping my teaching skills,” Littleton says. “Her passion for discovery was infectious, and the students loved working on basic research questions under her guidance.”

She was also a mentor for fellow women joining the department, including E.C. Whitehead Professor of Biology and HHMI investigator Tania A. Baker, who joined the department in 1992, and Orr-Weaver, the first female faculty member to join the Whitehead Institute in 1987.

“She was seriously respected as a woman scientist — as a scientist,” recalls Nancy Hopkins, the Amgen Professor of Biology Emerita. “For women of our generation, there were no role models ahead of us, and so to see that somebody could do it, and have that kind of respect, was really inspiring.”

Hopkins first encountered Pardue’s work on in situ hybridization as a graduate student. Although it wasn’t Hopkins’s field, she remembers being struck by the implications — a leap in science that today could be compared to the discoveries that are possible because of the applications of gene-editing CRISPR technology.

“The questions were very big, but the technology was small,” Hopkins says. “That you could actually do these kinds of things was kind of a miracle.”

Pardue was the person who called to give Hopkins the news that she had been elected to the National Academy of Sciences. They hadn’t worked together to that point, but Hopkins felt like Pardue had been looking out for her, and was very excited on her behalf.

Later, though, Hopkins was initially hesitant to reach out to Pardue to discuss the discrimination Hopkins had experienced as a faculty member at MIT; Pardue seemed so successful that surely her gender had not held her back. Hopkins found that women, in general, didn’t discuss the ways they had been undervalued; it was humiliating to admit to being treated unfairly.

Hopkins drafted a letter about the systemic and invisible discrimination she had experienced — but Hopkins, ever the scientist, needed a reviewer.

At a table in the corner of Rebecca’s Café, a now-defunct eatery, Pardue read the letter — and declared she’d like to sign it and take it to the dean of the School of Science.

“I knew the world had changed in that instant,” Hopkins says. “She’s the person who made the difference. She changed my life, and changed, in the end, MIT.”

MIT and the status of women

It was only when some of the tenured women faculty of the School of Science all came together that they discovered their experiences were similar. Hopkins, Pardue, Orr-Weaver, Steiner, Susan Carey, Sylvia Ceyer, Sallie “Penny” Chisholm, Suzanne Corkin, Mildred Dresselhaus, Ann Graybiel, Ruth Lehmann, Marcia McNutt, Molly Potter, Paula Malanotte-Rizzoli, Leigh Royden, and Joanne Stubbe ultimately signed a letter to Robert Birgeneau, then the dean of science.

Their efforts led to a Committee on the Status of Women Faculty in 1995, the report for which was made public in 1999. The report documented pervasive bias against women across the School of Science. In response, MIT ultimately worked to improve the working conditions of women scientists across the Institute. These efforts reverberated at academic institutions across the country.

Walker notes that creating real change requires a monumental effort of political and societal pressure — but it also requires outstanding individuals whose work surpasses the barriers holding them back.

“When Mary-Lou came to MIT, there weren’t many cracks in the glass ceiling,” he says. “I think she, in many ways, was a leader in helping to change the status of women in science by just being who she was.”

Later years

Kerry Kelley, now a research laboratory operations manager in the Yilmaz Lab at the Koch Institute for Integrative Cancer Research, joined Pardue as a technical lab assistant in 2008, Kelley’s first job at MIT. Pardue, throughout her career, was committed to hands-on work, preparing her own slides whenever possible.

“One of the biggest things I learned from her was mistakes aren’t always mistakes. If you do an experiment, and it doesn’t turn out the way you had hoped, there’s something there that you can learn from,” Kelley says. She recalls a frequent refrain with a smile: “‘It’s research. What do you do? Re-search.’”

Their birthdays were on consecutive days in September; Pardue would mark the occasion for both at Legal Seafoods in Kendall Square with bluefish, white wine, and lab members and collaborators including Kelley, Karen Traverse, and the late Paul Gregory DeBaryshe.

In the years before her death, Pardue resided at Youville House Assisted Living in Cambridge, where Kelley would often visit.

“I was sad to hear of the passing of Mary-Lou, whose seminal work expanded our understanding of chromosome structure and cellular responses to environmental stresses over more than three decades at MIT. Mary-Lou was an exceptional person who was known as a gracious mentor and a valued teacher and colleague,” says Amy Keating, head of the Department of Biology, the Jay A. Stein (1968) Professor of Biology, and professor of biological engineering. “She was kind to everyone, and she is missed by our faculty and staff. Women at MIT and beyond, including me, owe a huge debt to Mary-Lou, Nancy Hopkins, and their colleagues who so profoundly advanced opportunities for women in science.”

She is survived by a niece and nephew, Sarah Gibson and Todd Pardue.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

105 for Nessian 👀

Hey, Gourdgeous

Nesta Archeron x Cassian - Pumpkins

Prompt: "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Halloween Edition

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language

2000 words

*******

“What about this one?” Nesta asked over the wind as she held up a bright, orange pumpkin.

Cassian lifted his head from where he was critically inspecting a pumpkin of his own. He smirked, sitting back on his heels in the sparse pumpkin patch. “Nes, come on. We said we’d pick each other’s pumpkin.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Nesta rolled her eyes, struggling to understand how her boyfriend could make a dirty joke out of that. “Just pick whatever one you think I’d like best.”

She grumbled but set the pumpkin back down. It was nice, but it wasn’t right.

Cassian had planned a whole Halloween-inspired date which included them going to the local pumpkin patch to pick out a pumpkin for the other person, going home to carve said pumpkins while drinking spiked cider, followed by admiring their pumpkins, setting them out of the stoop, and watching Halloween movies until they fell asleep. Preferably with some sexy time thrown in.

She knew Cassian loved all the fun parts of Halloween—the dressing up, decorating, and all the pumpkin-flavored treats—and not necessarily the spookier parts like haunted houses or horror movies in the dark. So when he suggested a Halloween movie Nesta knew to be prepared to watch Halloweentown, Hocus Pocus, or something as equally fun. She doubted he would pick an actual horror movie. Although, it would give him an excuse to hold her close—not that he needed an excuse. So who was she to complain?

It didn’t take much longer for them to find their pumpkins, which was good because Nesta didn’t want to admit that she was cold in just her jacket and scarf. It wasn’t fair that Cassian had all that muscle to keep him warm. Or the foresight to wear a leather jacket over his deep red and black flannel for extra warmth.

As if sensing it, Cassian grinned and slung a heavy arm around her shoulders, pulling her close where she could feel the heat radiating off of him, as his other arm held the pumpkin she’d picked out snug to his opposite side. Nesta maneuvered her free arm to wrap around the back of his jacket while her other cradled her smaller pumpkin close to her chest.

“Let’s go drink and use sharp knives to cut these things up.” He declared, and Nesta couldn’t help but laugh at the child-like joy radiating from him as he pulled her towards the car.

***

As soon as they got home, Nesta set to turning on the skull lights and putting on their Halloween playlists while Cassian moved the sofa to the far wall and laid down old newspaper on the floor along with large spoons, a few knives, and markers.

He took both their pumpkins and got to work cutting off the tops and scooping out the seeds while Nesta pulled out the spiced apple cider and cinnamon whiskey. By the time she walked back into the living room, a steaming cup of spiked cider garnished with a cinnamon stick in each hand, Cassian had finished getting rid of all the slimy, orange innards. Nesta waited until he wiped his hands off before handing him his mug and sitting down across from him where he’d placed her pumpkin.

Soon, both she and Cassian sat in comfortable silence as they each planned how to carve their pumpkins. He apparently knew exactly what he wanted and immediately started drawing his outlines in marker before carefully choosing a knife and carving out small sections at a time.

Nesta wished she could blame her less-than-amazing pumpkin on the distraction sitting in front of her. The tongue out in concentration, long hair pulled back in a surprisingly sexy bun, sleeves pushed up to show muscled forearms, grinned and winked whenever he caught her eye, kind of distraction.

But even Nesta could admit that the poor excuse for a design on her pumpkin had less to do with her too damn distracting boyfriend, and more to do with her own lack of carving skills.

Frustrated, Nesta threw her knife down and crossed her arms. “What are you making?” she asked as Cassian’s brows furrowed in concentration as he finished carving out a sliver. He grinned and twisted his pumpkin around to show her a halfway finished carving of three bats.

She snorted, “That’s how you chose to carve your pumpkin?” she rolled her eyes and smirked. “A little generic, don’t you think?”

She laughed as Cassian threw a small piece of pumpkin at her. “Ah, but they aren't just regular, boring bats, Nes.” he shook his head as if upset she couldn’t understand that, but his eyes shone with mischief as he pointed to the bats.

He grinned, “It’s Az, Rhys, and I.”

Nesta looked down at the bats again and raised an eyebrow, not hiding the large smirk stretching across her face. “The likeness is astonishing”

Both affectionately and mockingly, everyone in their odd circle of friends called those three the Bat Boys due to their large matching back tattoos of bat’s wings. Apparently, Cassian was taking that quite literally now.

Cassian pointed to the one in the middle, the largest and fully carved. “See,” he grinned wolfishly “I’m the biggest.”

Nesta smirked and made a sound of agreement that caused him to wink at her, before pointing to the one he was currently working on. It was thinner and had its wings flared in a surprisingly pompous pose. How Cass had managed to carve that, she didn’t know. “This one is Rhysie,” He said. Then he pointed to the other which so far was just a drawn outline. “And this one will be Az.”

“Lovely.” She snorted and grabbed her cider.

Cassian set his pumpkin back down and looked at her pumpkin with was surrounded by chunks of misshaped pumpkin parts. He chuckled as she followed his gaze with disdain at her own work.

“It’s called ‘carving a pumpkin’ not ‘brutal pumpkin murder’. What, did you chop up half of the thing already?” he laughed.

She glared at the pieces and the front of her pumpkin which couldn’t even be described as any kind of real shape. She scoffed, “Not all of us can be pumpkin carving masters, Cass.” She crossed her arms, feeling both more self-conscious and more defensive of her pumpkin.

He opened his mouth to say something but as his eyes danced across her features, his mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin. “Nes,” he drawled, sitting back and cocking his head, still grinning.

“What?” she sniffed, side-eyeing the perfect pieces in his discard pile.

“Sweetheart,” he said, drawing her attention back. “Gourdgeous.” she rolled her eyes as he drew out the word making sure she caught the pun. Then he picked up the knife closest to him and slowly cut out another chunk as she waited for what he was going to say. As he pulled out the slice and tossed it aside, he watched her gaze.

“What, Cass?” she asked again, her glare following the smoothly cut piece.

He chuckled. “Wait a minute,” he paused until she met his eyes, crinkled at the edges with amusement. “Are you jealous?”

Nesta scoffed again. “Jealous? Of what? Of your supernatural ability to carve a perfect pumpkin? Of course not.”

He laughed, and despite her desire to contradict his accusation, she couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice.

“Let’s see it,” he said once he’d quieted, jerking his head towards her own pumpkin.

Immediately, she frowned again, staring at the jagged lines and cut-outs where there shouldn’t be cut-outs. Shaking her head, she protested, “No, it’s not meant to be seen by anyone who wants to keep their sight.”

He huffed a laugh, “Nes, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

She roughly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and glared at him. “I beg to differ.”

He smirked, “You know I love it when you beg, Sweetheart.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed but couldn’t help her traitorous lips from curving up—again—at his teasing. “I’m serious” she insisted, gesturing to all the pieces of what used to be her pumpkin now surrounding her.

Cassian set down his knife and stood up.

She arched a brow, “Where are you going?”

He stretched, and then he sauntered towards her until he was directly behind her. Nesta twisted and craned her neck up to meet his amused eyes with her questioning ones, trying to hide her disaster of a pumpkin from him. He sank down and stretched out a leg on either side of her before his large hands gripped her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest.

“Let’s see if we can salvage this.” He whispered into her ear and she could feel him smirk against her skin as she shivered. His hands left her body momentarily to pull the pumpkin and knife closer, and she immediately missed the heat of him. He must have too because he pressed himself impossibly closer and rested his chin on her shoulder.

They both stared at the disfigured pumpkin. Nesta could feel her face heating up as her boyfriend continued staring in silence. She shouldn’t have been embarrassed but his was so good, and she hated people seeing her as anything but perfect. But he wasn’t people, he was Cassian. Which somehow made it worse? She was about to shove the pumpkin away when he squeezed her hips, pressed a kiss just below her ear, and picked up a knife, placing it in her hand and folding her fingers over the handle.

“I think we can save this.” He said, and Nesta could feel the reverberations of his chest at her back. “it just needs a little loving care.”

She relaxed further into him and he helped guide her hands

They spent the next few minutes switching between knives, Cassian’s hands wrapped around her own, as he guided them to slice pieces out of the slowly-healing pumpkin. Every few seconds, he would press a kiss to her neck or below her ear and in response she would squeeze his fingers with her own which led to him saying something low and raspy in her ear and causing her to shiver or press further back into him, just starting the cycle again.

After one particular slice, Nesta started laughing. Cassian paused their cutting to pinch her side. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” She said through a laugh, taking a breath and trying to calm down. “It’s nothing.”

Cassian shook his head and kept cutting. As he guided her hand again, she couldn’t stop the snort that erupted, and then she was leaning her head back against his shoulder and laughing.

He set down the knife before she cut herself and rested his hands on her hips until she had quieted enough for him to ask, “Seriously Nes, what’s so funny?”

“It’s Ghost, we’re Ghost.” She snorted again.

“What?” he asked incredulously. “We’re ghost? What are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes despite him not being able to see it, “Ghost—the movie. You know that one scene where Demi Moore is sculpting pottery and Patrick Swayze’s ghost comes in and sits behind her and has his hands intertwined with hers and they’re sitting like this and—come on, we’re Ghost.”

Cassian chuckled, his breath fanning over Nesta’s neck. “Whatever you say. Just as long as I get to be Swayze.”

***

In the end, Nesta’s pumpkin sat next to Cassian’s outside the front door. It was clear who’s was who’s, but it only made her smile as Cassian placed the battery-powered candles inside and lit them up to glow.

They cleaned up the mess and moved the couch back in place, settling in each with a fresh cup of the spiked cider. Leaning into Cassian’s side with his arm wrapped around her and a blanket sprawled across their laps, Nesta smirked into her mug as the words Hocus Pocus flashed across the screen.

*****

Taglist:

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[baeddel]

is Caliban and the witch worth reading?

i've never read it. i've had the good fortune to have discussed it with three good friends who have, however. cc @canmom @epee-prisme @matador

i think it's worth reading. anything is worth reading. but is it a better use of your time than reading Lazarillo or Religio Medici or Tsurezuregusa? i apparently did not think so.

here is my best argument against reading Caliban and the Witch. Caliban and the Witch is Federici's big book where she proves her theories about primitive accumulation and reproductive labour by putting them to use in an analysis of the origins of capitalism. it is thus a test of a theory using history. but all of the history she uses is wrong. she inflates figures up to orders of ten, she neglects relevant facts and includes false ones. insofar as it is history it is bad history; so insofar as it attempts to prove its theory through history, it fails to prove it. now you are reading for the theory alone, which, while not proved by this book, might still be correct. but if you are reading for the theory alone, why read Caliban and the Witch when the theory has been laid out just as well elsewhere? you should instead read Fortunati's Arcane of Reproduction (1981) and Federici's Revolution at Point Zero (2012). between the 151 pages in Fortunati's book and the 148 pages in Federici's book you'll have to read 299 pages. since the first section of the Revolution... covers much of the same material as the Arcane... you could skip the first 65 pages and read only 234 pages all together. that commits you to between 15 and 80 more pages than you'd need to read to finish the Caliban... (all page numbers exclude covers, acknowledgements, etc.), all covering the theory in more detail and unburdened by factual inaccuracies.

you might want to read for other reasons, although those reasons still might not persuade us. you might read for Federici's wit, but the author of Lazarillo is more witty. you might read for Federici's clever rhetoric, but Thomas Browne's rhetoric is more clever. you might read for Federici's moving arguments, but Yoshida Kenkō's arguments are more moving. is there no reason to ever read Caliban and the Witch? lets not go too far.

here is my best argument for reading Caliban and the Witch. it is, first of all, better to read bad history than good history. when you feel comfortable in the hands of a scrupulous historian you will accept whatever they say. when you know the historian is unscrupulous and expect them to lie you will accept nothing they say. in the first case you will relax as you read and let yourself be impressed by the facts; in the second case you will investigate every claim and scrutinize every argument. we are lazy readers of good history and vigilant readers of bad history. even worse, after you have finished a good history you will set it aside and feel satisfied that you have learned something; yet soon you will forget it, and you have really learned nothing. while you read a bad history you will 'read around the subject', you will confront it with other sources, and you will feel proud and tell your friends whenever you defeat one of its false claims; after you finish you will seek out good criticisms and perhaps write your own. you will never forget this bad book and how you got the better of its scandals.

second of all, the task of reading the Caliban will be to extract the theory from the false facts. the task of reading the Arcane and the Revolution will be to scrutinize this theory which is naked in those texts. it is much easier to discover the underlying theoretical structure of a text than it is to scrutinize it. in the first case you need only the Caliban itself. but to scrutinize the Arcane and the Revolution you will have to be aware of Marx's theory of value and what he means by production, of the various conditions enjoyed by women in various societies, and of competing theories like Roswitha Sholz's value-dissociation. so while you may only need to read 15 more pages to finish the Arcane and the Revolution, in reality you may need to read a few thousand pages before you feel satisfied, whereas with the Caliban you will feel satisfied after only 219 pages.

we admit these are crummy arguments. instead of reading bad histories it would be better to become a vigilant reader of good histories; and you should of course not read only to understand one book but to understand the things it discusses. let me make my real best argument, then. what if we were to read the Caliban not as an academic history, and then find that it is a bad one, but as the same kind of "useful history for life" that Nietzsche liked to write? if you wanted to know something about the history of Chrsitian morality you would be very poorly served by reading the Genealogy of Morals. Christian morality was not first developed by slaves, so it couldn't really be a 'slave revolt' against the morality of slavemasters. but if you feel you have defeated the Genealogy with only this fact you will have fundamentally misunderstood that book and everyone will say so. in the same way that in Plato's dialogues there are not just arguments but characters and situations, and in the Zhuangzi there are not just ideas but "striking images" "the darkness of the Northern Ocean, the bird Peng, the cicada and the dove, the giant gourd and the useless tree" which, for Møllgaard (2005), adds up to a "speculative rhetoric" ("borrow[ing] the term coined by Pascal Quignard") which the arguments about language and understanding cannot be extricated from, in the Caliban we find witches burned at the stake, women in bridles, the trossfrau platoons of sex workers marching after soldiers, heretics living communally on the outskirts of society, and so forth, a speculative rhetoric made up of some things which happened often, some things which happened rarely, and some things which Federici made up. as academic history we find it to be false and dismiss it trivially. but it was ultimately not the inflated figures that made it so useful to communist trans women (we virtually all read and loved it even though it is expedient now to pretend otherwise). perhaps we have not yet begun to really read Caliban, or we have forgotten how to read it. so you should read it, not alongside serious histories about the witch trials and early capitalism, but alongside Nietzsche's On the Uses and Disadvantages of History for Life (1874) and books about hermeneutics. you must begin a new reading of Caliban and the Witch, the coordinates of which we do not already have on hand.

[13uswntimagines]

New Friends (Kellex x Little!Reader)

Request: dino Roary an origin story of where the reader got him? You can pick which team moms you want to use 

Author’s Note: This is in the little Problems universe and is a prequel to Little Problems. 

Rest days felt like they were few and far between as of late. Stress levels were at an all-time high as your team prepped for the Olympics, and it was nice to have a day away from the constant pressure. 

It was even rarer that you got to hang out with your three best friends alone. It wasn’t that your girlfriends didn’t trust you- but Rose, Mal, and Emily were Little (technically you were too, but you didn’t acknowledge that) and they always said it wasn’t a good idea for the four of you to go out on your own. 

Something could happen to make one of you slip, and that could cause all four of you to slip and before you knew it you could have 4 very mischievous littles left to their own devices. 

So you were excited to get to spend the day, window shopping with your friends, away from your girlfriends. They tended to hover, and you really just wanted to have fun. That’s how you ended up at the mall, wandering around aimlessly. 

“Alright, I believe it’s my turn to pick the store?” You said, rubbing your hands together. 

“It’s only fair. You did just spend an hour looking at running shoes and sandals with us,” Rose nodded thoughtfully. Sure you had gotten pretty fidgety towards the end, but you hadn’t complained. At least you hadn’t started trying to play hide and seek in the aisles this time (how you didn’t think you were little, she would never know). 

“At least they weren’t sketchers,” Emily snorted, throwing an arm over both you and Mal. As your oldest (both big and little) friend, it was her job to look after you two. 

“We promised we’d never talk about that again,” Mal grumbled, shoving a cackling Sonnett off of her. Emily stumbled, bumping into Rose and nearly sending both of them into a potted plant. 

You shrunk slightly at the security guard's glare, using all of your strength to prevent your thumb (or your shirt) from finding its way to your mouth as it so often did. 

“How bout Spencer’s? They’re supposed to have the new Harley Quinn merch,” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck. 

Emily wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “And they have toys in the back,” 

You blushed. That wasn’t why you wanted to go there, plus Kelley and Alex would not be happy if they found out you went perusing through the sex toy section without them. 

You glanced at Mal and she seemed to be having the same thought. 

“Are you sure we’re supposed to look at those?” She asked, fidgeting just like you were. 

Emily shrugged, rolling her eyes. “There’s only a ban on it when we’re little,” 

You squinted at her. She was the ringleader of your little group, and she had a habit of leading you all into trouble. But Mal nodded thoughtfully, satisfied with the loophole. 

You bit your lip. If Mal was ok, then you should be too. “Otay,” you mirrored Mal’s nod, the collar of your shirt slowly beginning to find its way to your mouth. 

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Rose smiled wide, wiggling her eyebrows, looping her arm with Mal, and beginning to drag the younger girl towards your chosen store. 

Emily took off after them, throwing her arms around their shoulders barely checking back to make sure you were trailing after them (Alex and Kelley would be very upset if she lost you after all). 

****

You had promised your girlfriends that you would stay with Em, Mal, and Rose. You swore that you wouldn’t leave their sights. And you hadn’t meant to, but all of the stuffed animals in the window looked so lonely. You needed to go say hi to them. 

That’s how you found yourself roaming the isles of the toy store, one set of fingers gently pressing over all of the animals’ fur and the other finding their way to your lips. 

You didn’t usually let yourself slip this far, not around other people at least, but something about being surrounded by so many stuffed toys felt safe. They were like a magnet drawing you to them, and you didn’t wanna fight it. 

You paused in front of a section of dinosaur-shaped stuffies, your eyes gliding over the colorful selection. You didn’t just want one. You needed one, with every fiber of your being. 

You weren’t sure how you knew, but you were sure that one of these buddies was meant for you. 

“Hey sweetie, are you here all by yourself?” A very soft voice asked from behind you. You turned towards the brunette, squatting down so her green eyes could peer into yours. 

You shook your head, “No, wit Emmy, Mal, and Rosie,” 

The woman’s lips ticked up at your little voice, even if it was muffled by the thumb between your lips. But it was still troubling that you were in this store all by yourself while you were little. 

“Good. Are they here in the store with you?” She asked softly, as to not scare you. 

You bit your lip, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting (but not as cool as the light-up buzz light year ones your ma-. Kelley. Not as cool as the ones Kelley had gotten you). 

Maybe you should have told your friends that you wanted to say hi to all the stuffed animals, but they were too far ahead of you. And they probably would of had to call your girlfriends (stuffed toys were a pretty big trigger for all of their little spaces). You hadn’t wanted the day to end or to admit that you wanted something that other littles wanted. 

“No,” You mumbled sadly, afraid that your time in the store was going to be over before you got to greet your new friends (and that you were gonna get the mom looks from your girlfriends when they found out about this). 

The woman sighed her eyes softening at your chastised expression. She shared a glance with the blond woman beside her before placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Alright sweetheart, what’s your name?”

You nodded, your chest-puffing slightly. You could do that. “Y/n,” 

The woman smiled at your adorableness. “My names Lena, how about we call your friends?” She asked softly. 

“but I gots new frens,” You pouted, gesturing towards the wall of stuffed animals with the hand not currently in your mouth. A very particular red and yellow Dino standing out to you. He looked so soft and cuddly. You couldn’t just leave him behind. 

“Ok kiddo. Let’s call your old friends, and then we can get you one of your new friends while you wait?” The blond woman asked. You nodded excitedly. You always liked new frens and it would be fun to introduce them to your old friends too. 

*****

“Holy shit, you scared the crap out of us. We turned around and you were gone,” Mal’s arms wrapped around you the second she saw you. 

You buried your face into her neck, wrapping the arm not holding your brand new friend around her. “Sorry, wanted ta say hi,” You mumbled, clutching the stuffed triceratops as tightly as you could. Mal froze, pulling back and holding you at arm’s length, her eyebrows furrowed. 

They all knew that you were supposed to be little, but they had never actually seen more than a glimpse of little you. It was a tricky situation because they didn’t want to discourage you from being little, but at the same time, it was dangerous because it could cause the rest of them to slip too. 

Emily turned to you, eyes wide. “Oh fuck,” 

You frowned, pouting at Mal. “Emmy sayed a bad word,” 

“Yeah, we heard,” Rose sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was not a good situation, and it certainly meant the end to their day out. But maybe she would be able to convince her mama and aunt Lindsey that you all needed a play date… 

“I maded a new fren,” You said softly, holding up the Dino that Lena and Kara had bought for you while you waited for your friends to show up. 

“I see that,” She shook her head, already reaching for her phone. 

She knew the rules, she was definitely going to have to be the responsible one and call a caregiver, lest you all (well maybe not you specifically) earn yourselves a punishment. 

Lena eyed the group of women before her critically. Taking in every twitch of a hand and tilt of a head. There was no way she was going to let the four of you scamper off. It would be dangerous and irresponsible, especially considering that seeing someone in little space was often a huge trigger to other little spaces. 

“Thank you so much for looking after her. We were so worried when we realized she wandered off,” Emily mumbled, smiling shyly at the woman.

Lena nodded back, “It was no problem, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for the four of you to be wandering around all by yourselves, especially if she’s little,” she said, gesturing to where you were excitedly introducing Mal to your new stuffed toy. 

You froze, barely looking away from your friend to huff out an “I not little,” 

Emily rolled her eyes. Even now, when it was obvious, you would deny it. 

“Right, we were just going to head back to the hotel anyway,” 

“You sure you can make it back alright?” Lena asked with a raised eyebrow. She didn’t envy whoever had to keep the four of you in check as you seemed like a very large handful.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thank you again,” Rose said, sharing a look with Emily. They were the two oldest and it was their job to get you guys back safely. 

Rose turned and gently grabbed your hand, so she could guide you out of the store and make sure they didn’t lose you again. 

You waved at the woman who had helped you as you left (big you would text them a thank you later as Lena had left her number in your phone). Emily made a mental note to talk to your girlfriends about how friendly little you was (it would be good for them to know in the future) and thanked their lucky stars that you were too far in denial to freak out when you were suddenly little. (It was also rather shocking that you had allowed yourself to slip for this long anyway). 

*****

They were almost there. Almost back at the hotel. Just a few more steps through the door and they would be home free. You paused as you approached the hotel, the tip of the stuffed dinosaur’s tail finding its way to your lips. 

You didn’t want to go inside. It was fine for you to be like this with Em, Mal, and Rose, they understood. Even with Alex and Kelley’s gentle nudging, you couldn’t let go of the fear that they would look at you differently. That the (amazing) adult side of your relationship would change forever. 

“Come on y/n,” Rose said softly, carefully pulling the Dino’s tail from your mouth with furrowed eyebrows. 

You shook your head rapidly, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes. “No,” 

“What do you mean no? We have to go inside, it’s almost curfew,” Emily asked, joining Rose hunching in front of you to look you in the eyes. 

You shook your head again, rubbing your nose in the soft fur of your new friend. Just holding him was so comforting (it was almost as good as snuggling between your girlfriends). 

“No. No wan Al and Kell ta see me, when I like dis,” You mumbled, gesturing towards yourself with your free hand, completely missing the looks Emily, Mal and Rose shared. 

“When you’re like what? They’ve seen you in worse states, trust me?” Rose snorted. 

It was true. Your girlfriends had seen you drunk, and sick and happy and everywhere in between, but as far as you knew they had never seen you like this. 

Sure, you let yourself slip just a little in the middle of the night when you were cuddled up between them, or when both of them were away with their respective club teams. But it would be different for them to actually see you little, and you just couldn’t seem to make yourself big now. 

“Not while I little,” You mumbled miserably. 

Rose sighed. “Babe, they know you’re little and they’re totally ok with it,”

It wasn’t like you could control the test results, and Kelley and Alex had been doing everything in their power to make sure you knew they were there for you. 

“I-...” You choked on your words, your mouth opening and closing several times. You just couldn’t seem to make your brain say the words that plagued you since your results came. 

Emily reached out a gentle hand to rub your shoulder, a small idea about your hesitance forming. “Y/n look at me. You know Lindsey loves me yeah?” You nodded at the defender, your eyes wide. “And how Sam loves Rose?” She waited for another small nod.  “Those two will love you just the same. Being little is a part of who you are, and it’s not going to change how they feel about you,” 

You frowned, subtly leaning into her hand. “But what if they don’t like my friend?” 

Rose and Emily quirked up a smile at you. 

“I’m sure they’ll love him,” 

******

Kelley stopped short as she entered your shared hotel room, her eyes bulging at the sight of you cuddled up with a new stuffed animal, your thumb between your lips, watching blues clues. 

“What the fuck Kell,” Alex hissed, barely catching herself before she plowed into Kelley’s back and shoved both of them further into the room. 

Kelley turned and pressed a finger to Alex’s lips. “Shhh,” 

“What?” Alex mumbled against her finger, her eyes following her shorter girlfriend’s gaze. Her eyes widened and she couldn’t stop the “Awww,” that left her lips. 

You looked over at the sound, your eyes tightening just a little. You slowly raised the hand holding your new Dino and offered your girlfriends a tiny wave. 

“Hey babydoll, mind if we join your cuddle session,” Alex asked carefully, stepping around Kelley and closer to the bed. She bit her lip at how adorable your thinking face was. 

They waited for a few bated breaths while you considered, idly rubbing your nose in the dinosaur's fur. You were terrified of being little, and they didn’t want to push you, especially with this being one of the first times they had seen you fill in headspace (they had gotten fleeting glimpses before but nothing quite like this). 

“I not mind,” You mumbled thoughtfully, shyly looking over at your girlfriends.

Alex and Kelley’s lips ticked up at the expression. God, you were adorable (they could only imagine how much cuter you would be when you were comfortable). 

Both women nodded, and very slowly joined you on the bed, sandwiching you between them. You snuggled into Alex’s side, sighing happily as the warmth of your two favorite people enveloped you. 

It made you feel safe and oh so small. 

“What are we watching?” Kelley asked after a few minutes of watching you. She gently reached up to remove your hand from your mouth, making a mental note to order you a soother off the internet. 

“Boo’s coo’s,” You mumbled, blinking up at the woman. 

She smiled brightly at your wide eyes. “We love that show short stack,” 

You mirrored her smile, wiggling happily (barely noticing that Alex moved your thumb away from your mouth again). You giggled when Kelley made a funny face at you before the blue puppy on the screen took your attention again. 

Alex and Kelley shared another look when you began to babble quietly to both your new stuffed toy and the screen. They shouldn’t have been surprised that you were this little. Even in the little glimpses, they had caught, they knew you were going to be smaller than Emily or Rose. 

They also shouldn’t have Em been surprised that your resistance finally slipped. It was a stressful time for the team, and they were frankly shocked you had held out as long as you did. 

“Hey babydoll, can I ask you a very important question?” Alex asked softly, brushing an errant curl from your eyes. You nodded, your eyes never leaving the screen.“How old are you right now?” 

You paused for a second, Seemingly considering the question before you gave them a little shrug. Big thoughts were too difficult right now. 

Kelley smiled indulgently at your little pout,  brushing your cheek. “That’s ok sweetie,” 

You leaned into the touch, settling back against Alex. They let you watch the screen for another few minutes, keeping a close eye on you. As the show went on, your new dinosaurs tail slowly made its way back to your mouth. They let it go for a few minutes, again making a note to talk to big you about getting something more appropriate to suck on. 

Alex very carefully reached up and pulled the red tail from your lips. “Who’s this little guy?” She asked softly, tapping the triceratops on the nose. 

“My new fren, Lena, and Kara gots him while we waited for Emmy,” You said. 

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You were waiting for Emily? With people, you didn’t know? There had to be a story there, and she fully intended to get it the next time she saw the defender (and make sure that the group had followed the rules their caregivers set for them- including staying together). 

“Does he have a name?” Kelley asked, making eye contact with the forward. 

“No,” You huffed, pulling the soft Dino to hide your eyes. 

“Well, friends have to have names,” Alex nudged the back of your shoulder. You squinted, looking between the red stuffed animal and Alex, your tongue poking between your lips. 

Names were a very big decision, and your Dino hadn’t told you his yet. You lifted the toy up, examining him carefully. 

“I not know,” You said, dropping your arms and squeezing him closer to your chest. Kelley and Alex both awed at how adorable you were. 

“You want some help?” 

You squinted at Alex for a second, before nodding slowly. “Yes please,” 

(Both women swallowed their praise for your good manners- they didn’t wanna cross a line as this was still a very new development). 

You passed the dinosaur to Kelley, who turned him over in her hands and carefully examined him before passing him to Alex who did the same.

“Well, do you know how dinosaurs say I love you?” Alex asked, passing your new friend back to you. 

“They say rawr,” You rawred at Alex, laughing when she rawred back and tickled your belly and Kelley joined in. 

“How about you name him Roary so every time you hug him, you’re reminded how much we love you,” Kelley suggested, blowing a zerbert into your neck. 

You giggled loudly. It was the perfect name for your new friend. It was also a reminder that your girlfriends would be with you through it all, even if you happened to be little…

[alesreadings]

A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson.

4.75 stars. “Pip wished she was strong enough, but she’d learned that she wasn’t invincible; she too could break.” tw: mention of rape, death of an animal, kidnapping, death, drugs. Notes. 1. If you haven't read the book and don't want to spoil yourself, I recommend that you don't read any further. 2. The spoilers section, and possible random spoilers, will be signposted to avoid any misunderstandings. I must admit that this is my first thriller book, so I'm not very familiar with the genre, and now I want to read more. And it's also one of the first I've read entirely in English, and as you know that Spanish is my native language, I assume you'll know that it was a bit complex. Although, I'm adapting a bit more to reading in English. Wish me luck, folks. In A Good Girl's Guide to Murder we follow Pippa Fitz-Amobi, a 17-year-old student whose final year project is the case of Andie Bell, who was murdered by her boyfriend, Sal Singh and taken for granted by the police. But Pippa knows Sal is innocent, so she decides to find out what happened five years ago and who really killed Andie Bell. Pippa discovers that Andie had many secrets, that she was not the beautiful and tragic victim that the people of Little Kilton martyred and idolised, branding Sal Singh a murderer and a monster, treating his family very badly for it. In addition, Little Kilton holds even more secrets that intrigue Pip and make her want to keep digging to solve the mystery. Writing. I don't think I remember reading a book like this, with diary-like entries speaking in first person and then in third person. It was a bit strange, if I'm honest, and it took me a bit longer to adjust. However, it was an easy read in some respects. And, I don't know if it's because of the difference between British and American English, but there were phrases that I had to look up because I didn't understand them, lmao. Plot. The plot kept me glued in my seat, not wanting to put my phone down, wanting to know what would happen next. I mention that I was late with this book because college is eating me alive, though I made time to keep reading because I was consumed with thoughts of not knowing what would happen, who the killer would be and if Pip was going to find out. There are a lot of plot twists that I wasn't expecting and a lot of things that made my brain almost melt from thinking about it so much. Pacing. It was a quick and light read, and I take back that I was late because of college: I would have finished it sooner if it weren't for homework. It's not that complicated to understand and the pages turn very quickly. Characters. Pip is a good girl, addicted to homework and determined to solve the Andie Bell case and prove that Sal Singh is innocent at all costs. So eager is she to find out what really happened, that she finds herself lying to others so that they won't worry about her and try to stop her from abandoning her project. Ravi is the younger brother of Sal Singh. He has been the target of criticism, and is known as the brother of Andie Bell's killer. Ravi knows his brother is innocent, and when Pip shows up at his door asking him a few questions, he thinks it's a joke. And soon, Ravi becomes Pip's partner in crime, both looking for answers about his brother's sudden death and his innocence in the case. Ravi is a beautiful little baby, don't touch him I want to take care of him. Also, Ravi: marry me. Andie was a bitch and it doesn't surprise me much that bad things happened to her. Everyone held her in such high regard, believing she was a good girl whose boyfriend murdered her. Andie ruined several people's lives, and although I thought I would feel bad that she had died, I didn't really. When you find out the truth about Andie Bell, what she did and didn't do, you don't feel any empathy for her. Cara is Pip's best friend, her older sister is Naomi, who was in turn Sal's best friend and who also keeps a big secret that makes Pip dig very closely into her and her life, including her family. (Bonus and unnecessary fact: Cara translates from

Spanish to English as: 'face' and 'expensive'. Unnecessary examples: Su cara es hermosa= her face is beautiful. La camisa es cara= the shirt is expensive.) Follow me for more unnecessary Spanish classes, they are free of charge. Pip's family is ok. They're the typical caring and normal family. Tho I loved Vic's jokes, jsjsjs he laughing at his own jokes (just as Ravi) is totally me. Max Hastings can die and I wouldn't care for him. He deserves the shit going on in his life. He's a dick and you can easily see it. Please, go fuck yourself, you fucking bastard. 🥰🥰🥰 ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️oK, PEOPLE, SPOILER SECTION. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ Tho I loved this book, I really enjoyed and liked it a lot, there were many ??? things that left me with a bitter taste on my mouth. First of all, Pip felt a little bit dry and typical. She's a good girl who starts to lie for her project and she doesn't feel the same anymore. I mean, idk, I can't put it into words, I just hope she felt more real and not flat. Second, how quick all of the possible suspects told Pip the truth, when they lied to the police or omitted information. I found it quite unbelievable and a little bit ilogic. Also, Mr. Ward confessed really quick and it felt dry... I don't quite know how to explain it, but I was expecting more. Becca Bell also confessed really quick, and spilled her secrets out as she were talking about the weather, which also felt a little bit bitter. aND THE FINAL STRAW: BARNEY. NO. NO. NO. NOT MY BABY BARNEY. HE WAS AN ANGEL AND I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HIM WITH LOVE. LEANNE CRYING OVER THE CHRISTMAS' VIDEO OF BARNEY GIVING EVERYONE A SHOE BROKE ME DOWN. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THIS!!! ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ End of the spoiler section⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ In summary, I really liked this book, was a quick reading and many plots got me hanging of the cliff. This is a "you must read" book.

[amphibious-entity]

TMBS Book 1 Brain Dump

~An Embarrassingly Long Post~

I don’t know why I’m writing this or why I’m so determined to do it. Maybe to finally assume my true form and become a mega dork on main, or maybe just for fun!

This is basically a compilation of all the main points running through my head after reading The Mysterious Benedict Society (2007) for the first time. Rather than posting a ton and spamming the tag, everything’s here in one neat package! (hopefully this gets it all out of my system rip)

Contents:

The Book Itself

The Book Itself, for real this time

The Characters

A Funny Parallel

The S.Q. Section

Lines & Scenes I Liked

Spoilers abound!

The Book Itself

Upon acquiring the first three books (don’t judge me pls), I was surprised at just how long they are. Like, they’re still pretty light being paperbacks and all, but these books are hefty lads.

The first book has this Disney+ Original Series circle thing printed on it, which is kind of unfortunate. Regardless, I love the cover illustration and yellow is actually my favorite color :D It made me weirdly quite happy whenever I saw the book lying around in my room

Also, it’s really cute how there’s a letter from Mr. Benedict at the end! (It only reveals that you can find out his first name if you “know the code”, meaning the bit of Morse printed below the summary on the back.) Shock and horror, though, as I realized I’m starting to recognize some of the letters

The Book Itself, for real this time

It’s wonderful how the tone of the book really shone through to the show adaptation. Something about the deliberateness of the aesthetic, from the set designs to the fashion to scene compositions, that really sells that particular style— like it’s very clear that this story is being told to us, rather than one we’re seeing unfold, if that makes sense.

Where that narration style stood out to me the most was the first chapter. We are told (rather than shown) how Reynie gets himself to the point of the second test, and there’s this whole twisty time maneuver for that whole sequence of events that’s really interesting

A super secret fun fact about me is that I wanted to be a writer when I was younger! So this particular balance of show vs. tell is really neat, since it runs counter to my own tendencies. The sheer amount of commas in every sentence is also kind of comforting, since Ahah, I Do That in those few serious-ish attempts at writing lol

Overall this book’s style reminds me a lot of Roald Dahl’s books, which are very nostalgic for me :D The whole “kids are more competent than adults” angle helps a lot too haha

The Characters

Oh boy here’s where I get a little bit critical! Overall I did really like this book!! it’s just that that expresses itself in all this weird “”analysis”” lol

Reynie - much better in the books than in the show

It’s sort of a lukewarm take but I feel like show!Reynie is kind of boring? He doesn’t have a lot going on flaw-wise, and obviously since he’s the protagonist he can’t have too many weird traits or else the kids watching can’t project themselves onto him as easily

(I call it the difference between an aspirational protagonist and a vessel protagonist. Going off of the Roald Dahl vibes, think Matilda vs Charlie. show!Reynie is more of a Charlie)

Thus when we get to see him really struggle with the Whisperer and doubt himself it gives him a lot more dimension, at least in my opinion

It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show

Sticky - my son

I’ve long held to no one besides myself and my long suffering sister that Sticky is The Best Member of the Society

He happened to hit a lot of the Bingo squares of Stuff I Like In Characters: glasses, anxious, nice :), kind of a coward but ultimately is there for his friends, etc

For some reason I don’t talk about him nearly as much as you-know-who, but I love him just as dearly

Kate & Constance - I don’t have much to say

Kate is really interesting in this book! I like how we get to see more of her depths, in particular that one passage about her belief that she is invincible being the only thing that keeps her from falling apart? :c

Also her constant fidgeting is relatable lol

Constance is somehow a lot more tolerable in the book. I think I’m just one of those people with no patience for small children, unfortunately lol

(Some of) The Adults

It’s interesting that they had such an offscreen presence for most of the book. Giving them more time was probably one of the stronger changes of the show

However if that decision was made at the expense of the white knight scenes I think the choice should have been clear

I like the way Rhonda and Number Two are written

Milligan always on sad boy hours 😔✊

The “mill again” passage is touching but kind of messes up the pacing of the getaway, at least for me. Maybe I should read it again to make sure I didn’t miss something

Miss Perumal is much better in the show. We see so little of her in the book she doesn’t function well as an emotional anchor for Reynie, imo

The Institute Gang

Jackson and Jillson serve their purpose well, and Martina was surprising to say the least. I like the direction they took her in the show! I can’t imagine how funny it must have been to watch the tetherball subplot come out of nowhere lolol

These sections were written out of sequence, so random tidbit I couldn’t fit in The S.Q. Section: I like how he stumbles over his words. relatable

Mr. Curtain

While I think I know why they decided to not give Curtain the wheelchair in the show, we were totally robbed of Actor Tony Hale’s performance for the reveal during the final confrontation

Speaking of the wheelchair, it’s such a powerful symbol of his need for control or rather, his fear of losing it

The Contrast between him and Mr. Benedict. This point is expanded on in A Funny Parallel

Mr. Benedict

Oh boy, Mr. Benedict… How do I say this

I find it hard to trust Mr. Benedict, unfortunately

I mean to say, I do in the sense that I know he would never hurt the kids, thanks to knowing that a) this is a children’s book series and b) the meta (tumblr) states that he is really nice and lovable and stuff, but seriously. Why do the kids trust him at first?? I probably missed something somewhere

I like to think I’m an optimistic person, but unfortunately I’m also super paranoid. The premise of “a bunch of vulnerable orphans team up with a strange old man” is just so odd to me I don’t know how to explain it

I don’t know!!! I really want to trust Mr. Benedict

One of the strengths of the show is that we get to see him more often, and thus he gets to acknowledge more often that the plan is weird and that he feels really badly for putting the kids in danger and that he’s trustworthy and genuine

But his lack of presence for most of the book just makes him into something of a specter, invisible and unknowable, speaking only in riddles from across the bay

Which is why the white knight scene is so important!! I loved that scene ;-;

Because here’s an actual emotional connection! We can actually see it happening, rather than only being told that it exists

Reynie asking for advice and receiving encouragement, in words that demonstrate that Mr. Benedict actually cares about him and worries about him and agghh

It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show

But overall this whole issue didn’t ruin my enjoyment of the book at all! It’s just ->

A Funny Parallel

Okay, ready for my biggest brain, hottest take ever??

Mr. Benedict and Mr. Curtain…. are… the same

I mean obviously not entirely, given that one is benevolent and kind and the other is… Mr. Curtain

But seriously. Genius old man seeks out children (mainly orphans) to enact a plan. Said children often end up incredibly devoted to his cause and deeply admire him this is a little flimsy

Undoubtedly that’s intentional and is supposed to show the difference between them, like some kind of cautionary tale? “Let yourself be vulnerable and let others help you, lest you turn eeeeviiillll”

I guess that’s where the aforementioned epic contrast comes in. You get Mr. Curtain, strapped into his wheelchair and hiding behind those mirrored sunglasses, terrified (but unwilling to admit it) of ever showing the tiniest hint of vulnerability, vs. Mr. Benedict, who can let himself fall knowing that someone will catch him :’)

Anyhow I have nothing against the parallels, I just think it’s funny

The S.Q. Section

The S.Q. Quarantine Thread so it doesn’t leak out everywhere else <3

I’d like to meet the emo angstlord genius who read this book and decided to make SQ into Dr. Curtain’s son. What in the world

Okay I should probably preface this by saying that I absolutely adore both book!S.Q. and show!SQ with all my heart. Somehow, despite being a completely different character in both mediums, he has managed to be one of the best characters in either and certainly one of my favorites (besides Sticky of course) in the entire franchise, despite the fact that I’ve only read the first book/watched the show so far. I am confident in this statement.

But seriously! How?? Why?? I could probably write a whole other essay about why show!SQ is such an interesting character, and the change works so incredibly well. I’m just. Baffled

Okay, focus. book!S.Q. is such a sweetheart, oh my goodness. Like, 100% one of the most endearing characters in the book. Poor guy. I don’t even know where to start!!

He just seems to be a genuinely good guy at heart, despite being technically one of the bad guys. He’s genuinely happy for Reynie and Sticky when they became Messengers and helped Kate when she “fell” and was concerned about Constance when she looked sick and how he was in that meeting with Mr. Curtain and Martina?!!? aaahhhhghgh ;-; he just wants people to be happy TT-TT

Comparing him against literally every character at the Institute is probably what makes him so endearing tbh. When everyone else is so awful to the kids, it really makes him stand out. Like a cheerful little nightlight in the worst, most humid and rank bathroom you’ve ever been in

It’s kind of pointless to theorize about a book series that’s already concluded (I think?) but. Is the implication of S.Q.’s forgetfulness supposed to be that Mr. Curtain used him in brainsweeping experiments somehow? The timeline probably definitely absolutely doesn’t line up but like. How did he get to being a Messenger being the way he is now, given how cutthroat the process is? And then of course Mr. Curtain keeps him around as an Executive because he’s fun to mess with and presumably his loyalty. I’m very curious as to how their relationship develops in the other books, if at all. Those are probably where the seeds of the “let’s make them family” logic were planted

But wouldn’t it be hilarious if the reason we don’t know what “S.Q.” stands for in the books is that he just. Forgot

Another thing that occurred to me. Given that he and the other Executives were Messengers at some point, what were their worst fears? What is S.Q.’s worst fear?? Inquiring minds need to know

One last horrible little anecdote: I was thinking about book!S.Q. while eating breakfast, as one does, and suddenly it hit me.

I want to believe The Author Trenton Lee Stewart had the name for a character, S.Q. Pedalian, and was like, “Hm! What sort of quirky trait should this young fellow have?” Because, of course, in this style of fiction every character has to have at least one cartoonish or otherwise distinguishing trait to stand out in the minds of children. (For instance, Kate has her bucket, Sticky has his glasses, Constance is angry, and Reynie is Emmett from the Lego Movie)

Anyhow, he looks around the room, searching for inspiration. Suddenly he comes across a jumbo box of plastic wrap. Completely innocuous in design, save for one line of text. 300 SQ FT.

“…large… S.Q. …feet? THAT’S IT!” i’m sorry

Lines & Scenes I Liked

In no particular order!

Sticky quotes Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Evil combination aerobics/square dancing in the gym with the Executives

Everyone being happy at the end :’)

Everyone partying after Sticky reunites with his parents, and later finding Mr. Benedict asleep at his desk from the moment they shook hands :’’)

Literally any scene with Sticky in it

Any time Kate says “you boys” or “gosh”

[“Um, sir?” S.Q. said timidly, raising his hand. “A thought just occurred to me.” / Mr. Curtain raised his eyebrows. “That’s remarkable, S.Q. What is it?”] clown prince of my heart </3

S.Q.’s determined monologue about searching for clues after he bungled up the first time

Literally any scene with S.Q. in it (please refer to The S.Q. Section)

Reynie trying to resist the Whisperer.

[Let us begin. / First let me polish my spectacles, Reynie thought. / Let us begin. / Not without my bucket, Reynie insisted. He heard Mr. Curtain muttering behind him. / Let us begin, let us begin, let us begin. / Rules and schools are tools for fools, Reynie thought.]

NO MORE HURTIN’ WITH CURTAIN

Milligan showing up on the island!!

Remember the white knight hhhhhh

“controle”

A Super Secret Bonus Section

I would be extremely surprised if anyone read through all the way down here lol. Regardless, here’s a little acknowledgements section :D not tagging anyone since I don’t want to bother all of these people

Special shoutout to tumblr blog stonetowns for unknowingly yet singlehandedly demolishing my reluctance to read the books by posting a ton of cute quotes. Thank you for your service o7

Thanks to the two OGs that liked the post I made right before this one, for being my unwitting enablers and for sticking around despite being a) technically an internet stranger (hello!) and b) someone I haven’t spoken to irl in literal years (hey!!)

Last but not least thankz 2 my sister for putting up with me ranting about the book when I first got it and for asking about “CQ” sometimes lol. (i desperately hope you’re not reading this orz)

[sunsoothed]

hair(care)

remember this post? yes i wrote the fic. with some angst and backstory as a treat! family bonding time and people learning to love. the ao3 summary is "Yohan first learns affection through money, then oil." which i think is really really funny.

word count: 1696

read on ao3

apologies for any errors, and enjoy!

-

The first time Yohan tries, it is before everything. He’s allowed to err here and there, require an entire braid to be unwound and redone. He’s allowed to experiment with the clips and the ribbons and decide when the act is complete and present his art to his niece and his family. Elijah is rightfully fawned over, cheeks bright and smiles brighter, holding onto her uncle and hiding her face in his shoulder with glee.

That was, of course, before everything.

-

If Yohan has touched a hair on Elijah’s head since, it is only to make a promise or only in her sleep.

The doctors will take care of you, don’t worry. Samcheon is here. I won’t let them hurt you any more than you already have been.

Midnight, in that agonising few months of hospital rooms and the claustrophobic rehabilitation centre. When Elijah is able to perceive nothing but her breath, Yohan, hands reverent; soothing his own fears through comforting his niece. Things will be okay. We’ll be fine. A few grounding breaths are never enough, not after he learns what those monsters took from his niece.

And when Elijah cries. When she first asks after her mother and father, why they aren’t by her side, why is it just samcheon everyday? When Yohan’s tears ring before hers, for the first and last time. I’m sorry, so is declared. I’ll fix this, so is promised. He holds her as close as he can permit himself to, and vows to burn down this world if she asks him to.

-

Elijah, once, four years since, on her tenth birthday, asks him, “Can you help me?”

Yohan will pretend like he hasn’t been starved of hearing those words. He follows her to her room, honoured of her trip halfway across the house.

“The girls at school,” Elijah fumbles about, wringing her hands together, “that… they wear their…”

He stands in her doorway, somewhat uninvited, waits for her to finish.

“They wear their hair, kind of… like this,” Elijah mimics some variation of a hairstyle best she can, two locks of her hair held in her hands, the parting off. “I was just…”

Yohan, unfortunately, understands little. “Do you need a haircut?”

Elijah’s hands fall, as does the thin hope upon her features. “It’s nothing,” she dismisses. “I only called you because ahjumma wasn’t in today. It’s fine.”

Yohan blinks. “I can help if —”

“It’s fine,” Elijah hisses. “I was mistaken.”

-

If there is any chance of that ever happening again, time will have to be reversed. Elijah turns twelve, and things change, and Yohan notes his laptop has been hacked.

He buys her a cake for her thirteenth birthday that finds itself smashed against a wall and a demand for no such recurrence.

Yohan will never disobey her. Not with things that she can control.

So he buys no cakes, but buys her a building and channels the affection he allows himself to feel once a month in an allowance that shocks Ms Ji despite the lifetime she’s spent in this family.

Once, there is a package of hair care products with their usual shipment of essentials, which Ms Ji makes a show of putting in Yohan’s way. When he relents, it only takes a tilt of head to the east of the house for her to get the hint. He never knows if Elijah uses them, but the list goes on to include some products out of the large batch he’d purchased, and Yohan considers buying another building.

-

On her sixteenth birthday, Yohan asks, “Do you want to have a birthday party?”

Elijah asks, “Who will we call?”

Yohan nods, for that is an apt answer.

-

When Kim Gaon comes, Elijah hates him more than usual. That, Yohan had expected. What he hadn’t was that this hatred would melt away faster than ice when met with fire.

The frist time Elijah sports a more delicate hairstyle than the usual ponytail, Yohan thinks it’s a trick of the light. But she turns her head when retrieving cereal, and her hair is still parted that way and a short braid runs from behind her ear into the clipped-back hair at the back of her head, and Yohan pauses to stare.

Instead of their noncommittal acknowledgement of each other each morning, he asks, “When did you…” and gestures to the back of his head.

Elijah shrugs, looking over at him impassively for a moment before pursuing her breakfast once again. Kim Gaon slides into view, grin perpetually etched into his face, asks, “Elijah, did it stay?”

To which Elijah smiles back, and now Yohan’s eyebrows remain shot up.

Kim Gaon continues to talk, “It’s experimental. We’ll try a different style tomorrow. Your hair’s long enough to make an intricate bun.”

Yohan ensures Elijah watches him conspicuously eye the both of them.

“Kim pansa,” he says, breaking the moment. “We need to go to work.”

-

The next day, and the day after that, Elijah wears her hair in different styles. Once it is a high bun with some small braids, once it is a different parting and a new set of clips. Yohan observes critically over breakfast as Elijah holds her head a certain way to ensure it doesn’t fall into her food, and thinks, how impractical.

She catches him looking, so she hoists a sour look, to which Yohan responds with an exaggerated tilt of his head, aiming to mimic her.

“Don’t make fun of her,” Kim Gaon’s imposing voice interrupts. “Elijah looks fantastic today.”

Elijah beams. Yohan is disarmed of a biting reply for he hasn’t seem her teeth take on anything but a stubborn baring of power in front of him. He spends the rest of the day replaying it.

-

When things so south and north again, when Elijah acknowledges, begrudgingly, that her uncle did not have it out for her father, Kim Gaon mediates harmoniously.

He spends an evening making them both chase the cat around the house.

It’s an inane idea, even Elijah hates it, but he tells them the reason Kkomi starts throwing things off their desks at four in the morning is because she’s understimulated, and that even a cat needs to exercise.

So it’s Elijah’s job to get her rilled up enough to run — in a cat’s terribly comic way — away from them, and Yohan’s to ensure she keeps running around.

He’s insane, is what Kim Gaon is. Elijah’s more than sure this borders on some ethical offense. Yohan sure seems to find some pleasure in making the cat scared for her life.

Gaon congratulates them both with a mid-evening coffee and snack break. Elijah actually, voluntarily, asks for Yohan to pass the plate of biscuits across, and thanks him — thanks him! — when he does.

Before they all retire to bed, after another shared meal, Elijah calls for him from down the hall.

“Yohan!”

He turns, maintaining what he thinks is a smile.

“Can you try and get some coconut oil?”

“What for?”

Elijah scrutinises him, gauging how he doesn’t understand something so obvious. “For my hair.”

Yohan nods, still not on the same page, but very much wanting to be. “I’ll get it,” he assures.

He doesn’t blink twice at the astronomical shipping price.

-

It’s a tall bottle, imported and primly packaged, that greets Elijah when she returns home from her weekly ice-cream run with Gaon.

She eyes it, suspicious, before their resident busybody stands in her doorway and says, “Oh, bujang-nim actually bought it for you.”

Elijah blinks at Gaon innocently. Yohan does listen to her sometimes.

“Material wealth,” Gaon seems to understand. “We’ll put it in your hair tomorrow, okay? Keep it in for a few hours.”

“A few hours?” Yohan voices, having just turned the corner, dressed as he usually is at home.

“What are you doing here,” Elijah mutters, shooting a scowl at Yohan as he stands in her doorway as well.

He scowls back, never one to back down from a challenge, as Gaon goes on about the benefits of oiling hair behind them.

-

“Don’t pull,” Elijah hisses.

“I’m not,” Yohan insists, but puts less force into his actions nonetheless.

Gaon and Ms Ji are monitoring them, mirroring each other with their arms crossed and leaning against opposite sides of the doorway.

Yohan sections Elijah’s hair into three parts after brushing through it, the fine-toothed comb surprisingly sparse of broken hair.

“Gaon has been helping me take care of it,” Elijah had explained, when he errantly asked. “What, did you think I’m some sort of wild animal?”

Yohan carefully collects some oil in his palms, completely foreign to this, eyes flickering up to Gaon for guidance. Gaon is absolutely no help.

So he trusts his instincts and starts at Elijah’s scalp, rubbing oil in, and ends with oil down his forearms and Elijah’s hair in a thick braid. She’s fast asleep.

“That means you did a good job,” Gaon whispers to him.

Yohan would smile, but such affection hardly suits his face. He pats Gaon’s face with an oily hand, leaves him spluttering, and grins to himself as he tries to wash the oil off.

-

It barely becomes a routine, because despite Gaon’s somewhat vast knowledge on hair care and what Elijah read online, washing oil out of your hair can be a nightmare. But Ms Ji and Gaon have observed their two sulking overlords interacting with an increasing frequency, even if it is sometimes just to disagree about an arrangement of clips or parting of hair.

Gaon had supposed, somewhat, that his bujang-nim had at least an understanding of style. In his discussions with his niece, though, when somehow colour schemes and draping becomes relevant, Gaon admits he’d underestimated Kang Yohan.

Later Elijah will decide she wants to dress for dinner as well, and Yohan will be the only one diligently obeying the formality. So much so that he will leave a guest in the company of the villainous home to attend to his niece’s requests. No one will ask about the pink bow in her hair, but it’s more than enough for Yohan to know that he tied it up.

[kitkatopinions]

It's hilarious how half the Rwby simps will say 'No, you don't understand! Ironwood's a classic example of how a good man can become evil!' and the other half will say 'No, you don't understand! Ironwood's a classic example of how an evil person can hide in plain sight for years!' Even the simps and bootlickers can't agree on the moral of his story

Honestly, I and other RWDE posters have consistently got contradictory 'explanations' for tons of stuff. And obviously, part of the reason for that is that RWBY fans - and even RWBY simps - do have different opinions and think different things and come to different conclusions just like RWDE posters do.

Of course, there are some big differences between RWDE posters and RWBY simps. Most IW fans aren't demanding that everyone else love him, whereas anti-IW people try to bully others into hating him. Most RWDE posters aren't demanding that everyone hate RWBY, or stop posting about liking it (although there are a couple exceptions,) but a lot of RWBY simps frequently demand that everyone like RWBY or at the very least stop posting about why they have problems with it. But that's not quite the point.

RWBY simps have lots of different ideas, but it is funny to post or to see other people post criticism of RWBY, and then to see multiple people in the comments tell us "this is the obvious solution to that so it isn't a flaw" while all of them are presenting different solutions. For instance, the Penny problem! Many people were complaining that Penny getting a flesh body didn't make sense, and had both people saying that obviously Penny's soul had just conjured up her own flesh body by using its aura, and people saying that obviously Ambrosius had made her a body because he was preventing himself from killing. In both cases, the RWDE posters complaining about the problem were mocked and treated like they were stupid or lying for not believing the 'obvious' conclusion that others had drawn.

For another example, Yang not being shown telling anyone about Raven being the Spring Maiden. People were complaining that Yang being furious at Ozpin for keeping information secret while she herself had yet to tell anyone about Raven was hypocritical, and they had both people telling them that obviously Yang had already told everyone about Raven off screen, and people saying that obviously Yang would tell them later when it comes up again, and also people saying that obviously the Raven information didn't really matter anymore because it'd never come up again so it was unfair to say Yang had done something when said thing would never matter to the plot now.

And then obviously, with Ironwood, we got loads of completely contradictory 'explanations.'

"Ironwood losing his arm was a sign of his lost humanity not because of the arm itself, but because he was impatient and had it removed unnecessarily," "Ironwood losing his arm was a sign of his lost humanity not because of the arm itself, but because Ironwood was internally ableist and saw having prosthetics as a bad thing," "Ironwood losing his arm was a sign of his lost humanity not because of the arm itself, but because Ironwood didn't care about losing his arm, proving that he's heartless," "Ironwood losing his arm was a sign of his lost humanity not because of the arm itself, but because it represented Ironwood embracing/relying on mechanics and robotics." (Side note, I'll never get over the ableism in some of the replies there that I and others have got, and the constant attempts to justify the ableist comment the writers made.)

Of course, none of the people demanding that RWDE posters believe their headcanons ever demand that other Anti-IW people with different headcanons believe them, or call them stupid for not having come to that same conclusion. Because it's not actually even about people agreeing with them on how, it's just that they want everyone to believe the narrative of the show. So it doesn't matter to them if someone comes to the conclusion "Ironwood was always a villain and he was only ever lying when he did anything good in order to manipulate people into following them," or "Ironwood's fall makes sense because of the emotional and physical exhaustion he was going through," even if they're yelling at and berating others for not believing "Ironwood's fall to villainy was about him becoming power hungry over time and turning into a dictator even though he started the show as a good person." Any theory is fine, so long as it's Anti-IW, because if it isn't, then you're clearly saying the show isn't perfect and are therefore point blank wrong (even if their only 'explanations' are based in headcanons.)

But what's even funnier are the people who either change their 'explanations' mid debate, or contradict themselves mid-sentence!

"Ruby is different from Oz because she only lied to James because she didn't know if she could trust him, and once he proved himself and she was on board with him, she let him in. Ruby knew from the start that there was something shifty going on and never really agreed with him, she was only working with him out of necessity and didn't want to write him off right away, she was showing she trusted him by working with him, but he wasn't trusting her back."

"Ironwood was over-emotional and over reacted, so how were Ruby and the others supposed to trust that he'd do the right thing? Ironwood relied way too much on his mind and was blocking out his emotions, which you can see contrasted in characters like Ruby, Nora, and Robyn. And he's clearly way too compromised to be in charge in the first place, I mean, he's so affected by his fear that he's letting it control him, that's why Ruby needed to take charge."

"I think it was actually really heroic of Ruby to denounce Ironwood because she had seen he was already acting like a dictator, I mean did you miss that he had soldiers in Mantle, and was clearly trying to enforce things like a curfew? I don't know how anyone can believe Ironwood was good in volume seven, what with how he wasn't doing enough to protect the people of Mantle and keep them safe from the Grimm. And on top of that, he wasn't getting global communications restored fast enough, which proves he doesn't care about uniting the world like Ruby does."

Like, guys... It's actually really funny. Ironwood can't do anything right for RWBY simps, they'll try their very darnedest to convince people that everything he did was the wrong thing and that everything that Ruby and her team did was the right thing, even if they're literally contradicting themselves. And tbh, these conversations can end one of two ways. The nicer conversations will end with a 'well, agree to disagree' or a 'well, I can't see your point and you probably can't see mine.' I've both gotten and given these statements, and I'm actually fairly happy with them, because it's at least peaceful (this is most common with people who are just fans, rather than simps.) The meaner RWBY simps will leave with 'well, you're just stupid,' or 'well, you're just stubborn,' or 'well, you're just too busy simping for Ironwood to listen to reason.' And the meanest ones will send hate anons! I've only gotten a few, but others experience literal harassments, like regularly receiving anons from people who are attacking them for criticizing RWBY or liking Ironwood. RWBY simps, just like Ruby herself, will consider anyone the enemy if they don't agree with her and don't want her to be able to do what she wants with no arguments.

They rarely ever admit they're wrong about anything, even when their contradictions are pointed out to them. Luckily, I haven't gotten many comments from RWBY simps lately. I think I've blocked most of them that are regular posters these days, but I still see them on other people's posts sometimes, and it's always fun to see the comment sections of other RWDE posters, and see them responding to someone that I can't see lol. I'm always like "Oh, I must've blocked that one! Sounds like they're saying some trippy stuff."

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E111 (Redux! Oct. 13, 2020)

Gooooood evening good evening good evening, all! I started the VOD late for this recap and somehow the first four or so minutes of the show have a Twitch audio copyright claim, so I am reduced to only reading Brian's lips when he asks if we're on the internet. Hilariously, Marisha's background room is a comfy-looking blue/gold fabric wall with a ceramic colorful abstract lamp and a yellow silk scarf over the lampshade, and Taliesin's is an industrial looking games room in grey and black with multiple monitors, overhead speakers, and mysterious metal fixtures behind him. What a treasure this group is, honestly.

Tonight's guests: Marisha Ray & Taliesin Jaffe, discussing episodes 110 and 111 again. I wildly speculate once more about what might have caused their absence: jury duty? Sam appearing on The Masked Singer? Something to do with the animated show? One day, we’ll know, one day... (One day this “copyrighted audio” section will come back from the wars, too. Ugh!) Finally! The audio comes back to reveal Brian discussing the endless reality of digital meetings and Marisha talking about (I think) her glare-reducing glasses she’s wearing. Welcome to the New Age (welcome to the New Age, to the New Age).

Announcements: Marisha suggests checking out Dimension20, another live tabletop gaming group, which premieres live on Wednesdays at 4pm (CollegeHumor). 

Brian immediately wants to know how they feel about the revelation that Molly is alive. Taliesin’s personal reaction: he “knows some things” he can’t talk about and is aware of several possibilities that might be going on, but had a sneaking suspicion that there would not be a body for them to find. He says it’s almost all there for anyone to see in past material. Marisha’s personal reaction: she just wants to know how she’s doing with her theories, & was trying to block Tal’s face out deliberately as she was going off on her theories in the last episode. Taliesin says he thought her ideas were pretty good!

Cad has no clue what to think - it’s like listening to your friends talk about Buffy. Marisha thought it was a 50/50 Molly would still be there, but Beau had no idea. Not that it mattered, because as soon as Matt went through with it the reveal still blew their minds. Tal laid out his plans for the character with Matt during Campaign One (towards the end) after they all got their VM tattoos.

It is a “horrifying and gross” thing to dig up a body, and Beau was pretty reluctant to do it. Tal, as Cad: “Sometimes dead’s better.” The moral quandary of trying to speak with a dead friend was very different here than the frequent occasions they used the spell in C1.

Taliesin says his poker face is very bad, so it’s easier for him to over-react and let it all play out. The only other player he can see very easily from his place in their current setup is Travis, and because he knows Travis doesn’t watch TM, tweet, or participate in social media, he admits he thoroughly enjoyed watching Travis freak out at his freaking out. He says he only knew about 20% of what Matt described at the end of that episode. He was picking things to mug to increase Travis’s surprise. I love this so much.

Taliesin provided the table left leg shake; Travis provided table right. Ha!

Beau is really accepting her role in the Cobalt Soul. It’s good when “as a person, you feel like you can settle into your calling. Sometimes you can do more from the inside than fighting from the outside.” It’s a mirrored but opposite path of Keyleth from C1; Beau felt like she was too good for her duty, while Keyleth thought she wasn’t good enough.

Caduceus is not a big believer in jumping to conclusions. He does have an idea/notion of the “city of the undead” and thinks all this necrotic energy must come from somewhere, and wonders if this is the “capital of anti-death.” He’s willing to believe whatever he sees. This is one of the few things that trigger a bit of loathing and disgust in him. It was terrifying that the Wildmother didn’t know anything.

Beau is pretty confident in her Charlie Day impression laying-out-the-research last episode. She enjoyed taking the things that were known & extrapolating around them; this is a huge facet of Marisha’s own personality and she really enjoys it, so she built a character this time that would allow that kind of puzzle-solving. It’s also why she repeatedly notes when Beau journals, so she can avoid metagaming. Trent’s mention of Vess Durogna’s tomb raiding was completely circumstantial, and the only reason she’d made the connection to the Tombtakers was because she’d recently reviewed those notes for a separate unannounced project. Sometimes she tries to make connections and Matt is like, “It was...just descriptive. Just flavor. The curtains were red...” and she has to discard a paragraph of notes. She feels like it’s still something they have to do because of “look at what he does! Look! It’s totally valid!”

Cosplay of the Week: @kitsunstudios with a gorgeous Caduceus with a very intricate silk vest.

Caduceus’s takedown of Trent! One of my favorite moments in the entirety of C2. Taliesin felt Trent was an asshole; Caduceus felt sorry for him because of how dumb he thought he was. Caduceus’s response was "this is the dumbest man I’ve ever met in my life. He’s so dumb! Is nobody going to tell this guy how dumb he is? Oh, they’re all freaked out. Somebody needs to tell this guy he’s an idiot before somebody gets hurt.” (Marisha: “Before?”) Tal says it was the product of several years of therapy and many drunk conversations with Whitney Moore. It was from a genuine place of concern from Caduceus. “How are you allowed to have this much power and be that dumb?”

Brian loved how funny it was to watch everyone tiptoe around Trent and then Caduceus bulldoze through the end of the meal.

Taliesin: “Damage doesn’t make you interesting or better. It’s not what makes you good. Character isn’t found in damage. Just recovery.”

Brian & Marisha commiserate going through the stage where believing surviving something automatically made you a stronger person, better for the pain; instead it just meant you had to pick up the pieces after. Marisha talks about how strength through survival may be true for some people, but it shouldn’t be considered a necessity. Taliesin talks about how he used to think he had to be miserable to write. Brian talks about how believing he liked reading and writing miserable things only limited him for years.

Marisha feels it’s a C2 theme that almost all the PCs have someone trying to handwave or take credit for their accomplishments or explain their pain as being for their own good (Trent, Beau’s dad, Obann). She thinks it’s interesting to see all the various ways people try to take credit for your work/delegitimize you as a person. She loves that RPGs allow you to explore these odd moralities in interesting ways. The only way to fight it is to have a sense of your own self-worth, which is a problem a lot of the M9 started with.

Caduceus likes everyone, and really likes people who appear to need role models (Eodwulf). “With the right friends and the right bar and the right attitude, I think he’d be okay. Come over here where it’s so much better. That seems like an exhausting friendship that you have there.”

Marisha loves the mix of personalities in the M9; Veth, Cad, & Jester were all “we kind of like them!” after the dinner, and she immediately made eye contact with Travis and they both shook their heads. She knows Beau has to go along with it for Caleb’s sake for now, but she & Fjord are pretty sus of Trent’s proteges.

Beau is less concerned about Artagan’s relationship to Jester because “he showed his ass--she’s less worried about Jester now because a little of the magic is gone.” It’s a little like becoming an adult and realizing your parents are also just adults & human. Caduceus wasn’t suspicious of the Traveler for a long time until they got to the island. Aside: Taliesin loves the pantheon in D&D. “The notion of attempting to apply common Western conceptions of religion to a world where you have a pantheon of interventionist gods as baseline makes no sense to me. Everyone admits that every other god is there and doing shit; it has more in common with ancient Rome than anything else.” Now that he knows it was a con, he feels the wind had been taken out of it. He does have a sense that Jester’s gotten back together with an ex: “I hope that I’m really happy for you.” They’re both interested to see how Jester navigates the new relationship.

My internet goes out, of course. I panic for a second, thinking I’ve lost everything above, but all is well! Thanks, Form History Control addon!

Marisha loved punching Artagan, but regretting rolling so poorly. “I miss violence.” Dani lets us know it’s been about four episodes since the last battle.

There’s no way the Cobalt Reserve doesn’t have a single document on the Eyes of Nine. Beau believes “there are no real secrets” because people are just bad at not writing things down. For there to be no information at all seems really suspicious for her.

Fanart of the Week: @oddalchemist on twitter with some awesome Beau conspiracy red-thread boards overlaid a distant shadowy Molly walking away.

Caduceus feels a little guilty for really enjoying his time right now with the M9 and not wanting to go home. He’s starting to suspect that he’s going to go home very different than when he left. “He has the softest problems. I don’t know if I want to move back in with Mom & Dad.”

Beau is trying to get comfortable with the idea of being happy. Jester is probably Beau’s first real best friend & one of the first healthy female friendships she’s ever had. As long as she still has Jester in her life, she doesn’t care. For Yasha... “At the end of the day, Beau is a lonely person and has always been a lonely person. And I think you kinda reach this point where once you’re not lonely anymore, you can kind of come out of the fog and realize that was horrible! And terrifying! And is even more terrifying now that I know what I could have, and I don’t want to go back to that. At the end of the day Beau doesn’t want to be lonely anymore. There’s always been that flirtation with Yasha, but everyone had to figure their own shit out. And now it feels like it’s coming out a little bit of that haze, maybe this actually could be...” There are a lot of ways they complement each other & are good-different from each other. Marisha believes people can be attracted to more than person at once.

Caduceus doesn’t think nature turned against him on Rumblecusp, it was just a reality of nature being dangerous and violent. “He has a complex relationship with nature.” He doesn’t expect special treatment.

Thoughts on the mansion: “Man, it’s nice to be seen.” Marisha: “I don’t know how I ended up becoming the Scanlan of this campaign, but I’m living for it.” It felt like an echo of “I’m better for having known you.” They compare Marisha taking specific notes on the campaign to Liam taking specific notes on people’s favorite tapestries, comics, etc.

They talk about missing theme parks and daydream a park version of the mansion in CritRoleLand. It’s lovely.

Taliesin never expected Divine Intervention to work; he just wanted to roll some dice. He’s still processing what he saw/heard. They all agree it was very useful in the Vokodo fight.

Vilya! Marisha: “Ah! Ah! Ah!” As a player, Marisha was so deep in Beau’s eyes she didn’t pick up it was Vilya at first (especially since Matt really emphasized they should not be looking for C1 NPCs). Marisha’s brain melted. She bawled her eyes out on the ride home after that episode. Right after it ended, Laura told Marisha “Keyleth finally gets her happy ending,” and it makes Marisha emotional again since Keyleth’s story ended so bittersweetly. She talks about the very real feelings of “just wanting them to be happy, though!” She went back and listened to all her old Keyleth playlists. Everyone was teary after the episode. “Everyone has these 100% real memories of being these characters and having these good times.”

And that’s that for that! Thanks for your patience, all, and is it Thursday yet?

[miraculouswolf99]

Miraculous Lemonade (Song Fic)

I love the movie Lemonade Mouth and thought that the favoritism shown to the athletes over everyone else on the movie was similar to the favoritism shown to those with high-ranking parents in Miraculous Ladybug. So, an idea instantly formed in my mind. Includes my original characters Lyon and Vallia Garden.

*****

Adrien sat in the park outside of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, eating with is two friends from Greece, Lyon and Vallia Garden. The two were doing an exchange program that helped students from other countries experience other cultures. They spoke fluent French, so they came to Paris. Adrien met them years ago when his family went to a charity fashion show that was held at the animal and nature sanctuary that Lyon and Vallia’s family owned.

The three may be a “little” annoyed with what had just happened at school. Lila “Liar” Rossi had framed Marinette for cheating, assault, and theft. Adrien made, what he called, a “deal with the devil” to get Marinette back in school. But it seemed that after her first few days back, Marinette’s parents decided it was better for her to go to an arts school instead of Dupont. 

What infuriated the trio the most was that the school made no effort to investigate any of Lila’s accusations. There was no checking the security footage, no dusting for fingerprints, not even any hearing of Marinette’s side of the story. They simply took Lila at her word and some easily framed evidence to expel the best student at Dupont. It made them all furious.

“You know the favoritism shown at your school is appalling, right,” Vallia raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend.

Adrien sighed. “I know, I know. But what could I do about it? I’m the son of a fashion designer, not a politician like Chloe.”

“That brat’s a part of the problem, anyway,” Lyon scoffed. “The entire school was punished and she is the only one that gets out of it? I’ve seen less corrupt politicians in Gotham, and that says something.”

“I know people criticize me for being Chloe’s friend, but would you two give up a friend that you’ve had since you were a kid,” Adrien asked them.

“Honestly, no,” Vallia said. “We get how you feel, Adrien, but one day Chloe will do something unforgivable and you will have to choose between her and your other friends.”

“I think I chose a while ago but just didn’t want to admit it,” Adrien says. “Chloe had her chance to be a better person when she was Queen Bee. But even after getting to be a hero, she still got her father, Sabrina, and Aurore akumatized.”

“Is there anyone she hasn’t akumatized,” Lyon crossed his arms.

“Out of all our class, only Marinette and I have not been akumatized,” Adrien says. “And for everyone that has, only Max, Nino, and Lila were not akumatized by her.”

“Well, Lila being akumatized was probably her own fault anyway,” Lyon shrugged. “She lies with every breath she takes and one of them probably bit her in the butt at one time or another.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys yet, have I,” Adrien thought he had told them already.

“Told us what,” Vallia asked.

“You two were not here when she had her real first day,” Adrien tells them. “Lila lied on Alya’s blog about being Ladybug’s best friend. She had met me after school and tried to lie about not only being the descendant of a hero but also being the holder of the fox miraculous.”

“Seriously,” Lyon raised an eyebrow. “She was actually that stupid? Why not just put up a giant light-up sign that says ‘Hawkmoth, come and attack me,’ with her address written in neon.”

“If she hasn’t been targeted, Hawkmoth probably knows that she’s a liar,” Vallia said.

Adrien nodded. “During our conversation, Ladybug herself showed up. She probably saw Lila’s interview because she immediately called Lila out for her lies. Ladybug obviously hates liars as much as Marinette. Lila ran away and the next thing I know, she is breaking into my house while akumatized as Volpina and once again claiming to be a hero.”

“So that’s how you know she’s a liar,” Vallia understood now. “But why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because at the time she was only lying to get attention and friends,” Adrien said. “Have you seen my class, we’re all special in a lot of ways. Alya runs the most popular blog in Paris. Nino gets a lot of attention as a DJ. Juleka, Rose, and Ivan are members of a band that has been getting a lot of attention lately. Rose is friends with Prince Ali. Chloe is the mayor’s daughter. I am a model and the face of my dad’s brand. Even Marinette knows Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and has impressed my father and Chloe’s Style Queen of a mother with her designs. Compared to all of us, Lila’s lies are not that unbelievable.”

Vallia and Lyon actually see where he was coming from. Being surrounded by people her own age and yet they have accomplished so much, it made sense why Lila would want to lie about herself like that.

“But then she took things too far, right,” Lyon asked his friend.

Adrien nodded. “Once she came back from her, so called, trip to Achu, she started using her lies to manipulate the class, which you guys have seen. She lied about having tinnitus so she could sit next to me, lied about having a sprained wrist to get Kim to carry her lunch tray, she even lied about having an allergy to tomatoes to make Rose take them out of her salad for her.”

“Isn’t that why she was akumatized into Chameleon,” Vallia remembered Adrien telling them. “You told her to stop lying.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “When she suddenly left for her ‘trip,’ I saw no reason to humiliate her by telling people about Ladybug calling her out. Plus, it’s not like they had any reason to believe me since none of them ever believed Marinette when she told them that Lila is a liar.”

“And it does not help that no one in school ever tries to actually fact-check her stories,” Lyon rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like it’s hard, either,” Vallia agreed with her brother. “Jagged Stone published his autobiography three months ago. There is no mention of a cat, a plane crash, or anyone named Lila in the entire book. It even specifically says that he had Fang, his crocodile, since he was twenty. That is fifteen years that he has had him.”

“I know, I know, my school is full of the most gullible people in Paris,” Adrien sighed. “And now that Marinette is gone, it seems like Chloe and Lila have teamed up and are ruling the school with iron fists. I can barely get a minute without one of them hanging off my arm.”

“And it’s not like any of the teachers or Damocles are doing anything,” Lyon says. “I’ve seen you, ask, request, and even demand for them to let go of you and they never do. You’ve even done it in front if some teachers and none of them ever did anything.”

“It’s the daughter of the mayor and the daughter of a diplomat,” Vallia sighed. “They will, most likely, never do anything. Even if it involves the son of a rich fashion designer.”

“It’s not like we can do anything about it,” Adrien sounded defeated. “Damocles is too afraid of losing money from the mayor and it’s not like Chloe and Lila are ever going to change.”

He was rubbing his very sore and bruised upper right arm, which Lila had been holding onto very tightly for most of the school day. And he knew that he would also probably have to deal with more of her harassment at the next photoshoot that he has with her.

“But... can even Damocles deny change when the entire school is rallied against him and those like him,” Lyon smirked.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Lyon, and I am in total agreement,” Vallia brightly smiled.

“Uh... mind cluing me in, guys,” Adrien was completely lost.

“Well, you know that Lyon and I are friends with Clara Nightingale,” Vallia started.

Adrien nodded. When the pop star had come to Paris to shoot her “Miraculous” music video, she had basically tackled the twins when she saw them. Apparently, she had met them years ago when she did a charity concert at their family sanctuary and even now treated the two like they were younger siblings to her.

“Clara had told us the reason why she started performing in the first place,” Lyon continued for his sister. “When she was our age, she attended a high school that focused entirely on athletics and nothing else. To the point where all other extracurriculars were pushed into the basement with no budget for any of them. So she used her music to spread the massage of what was happening. She wound up getting a sponsor for the music program that built an entire auditorium for her school even when the principal tried to deny it.”

“So, she basically started a music revolution,” Adrien summed up.

“Exactly,” Vallia says. “We can do the same here. Use music to show that not everyone tolerates the favoritism. It should prove more of a problem since all three of us are rich but also see it as a problem.”

“We should probably also add those that are not like us,” Adrien says. “Kitty Section could help, plus Luka and Juleka are not under Lila’s spell.”

“But Rose and Ivan are,” Lyon reminded. “Without them, we would not have a drummer or a singer. Vallia and I can sing, but neither of us play the drums. I’m classically trained on the violin and Vallia doesn’t play any instrument.”

“Kim plays the drums,” Vallia said. “And when Lila got Marinette expelled, he snapped out of her spell.”

“Guess we have our plan,” Adrien says. 

“We’ll talk with Nathaniel and Marc,” Lyon said. “They can spread it to the rest of the school and we will soon have as much support as we will need before we perform and get the Board of Education involved.”

“But what about your father, Adrien,” Vallia was worried about her friend’s ‘stick-in-the-mud’ of a parent. “He would never agree with you being a part of any type of revolution.”

“Well, my father will just have to deal with it,” Adrien shrugged. “Plus, I can always spin it to make it look good for the brand when my fans see it as me trying to help those that are neglected because they are not rich.”

The twins smirked as they walked off to get their friends in on their plan.

*****

Luka and Juleka were more than happy to use music to change Dupont for the better. Luka went to an arts school, but Juleka wanted a normal school and she was currently regretting her choice. Kim was also very glad to finally be able to show that he was more than just a jock and that he was about more than just dares and jokes. Seeing the bruises that Lila and Chloe had been leaving on Adrien’s arms just motivated them even more.

They decided to give their performance at a school dance that was coming soon. The entire school would be there. And when they talked to Marc, his class’s president Aurore contacted the Board of Education and they were going to send a few members to check out the problem.

“You guys ready,” Luka asked them as he picked up his guitar. 

“Ready as we will ever be,” Juleka answers.

“I’m just glad to finally be able to stick it to the man,” Kim grins brightly.

“The song you guys chose is certainly a good one,” Adrien looks at Lyon and Vallia.

“What can we say, we love American Disney movies,” Vallia smirked. “Makes us glad that we’re fluent in english.”

The dance got dark, allowing them to get onto the stage that was set up for them. They had convinced Damocles to let them perform, saying they had an important message to give out with their music. Since three of the performers were rich, he let them. It did not go unnoticed how he had rejected Kitty Section when they had wanted to perform at the last dance even when they had told him the same thing.

Adrien stood behind the keyboard as Kim sat at the drums while Juleka picked up her bass and Luka stood with his guitar. Lyon was taking the lead singing position while Vallia was back-up vocals and running their “special” effects. They all had their own mics for them they took turns singing their verses. They were going to get their message out whether people at Dupont wanted it to or not.

Adrien was just glad he managed to avoid both Lila and Chloe since there was no way either of them would have let go of him and let him perform. But after this, he hoped to never have to deal with either of them ever again.

The music started, the spotlights shining down on them. Lyon took the lead and began.

Lyon- “Hear it getting louder, a call for revolution Yeah, we came for what was ours, it's time for restitution We'll protect our own, take back the stone No, human nature cannot hold us down.” Luka- “Stranded at the bottom, but we're more than a whisper No, we'll never be forgotten, our blood's thicker than silver, yeah When worlds collide, it's do or die So tell me, is it wrong to stand your ground?” Lyon+ Luka- “Hear us howl, all or nothing Fangs are out, we ain't running Hear us howl, it's all or nothing.” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

Lyon gave a wink to his sister and she started the real part of the show. With members of the board in the audience, this was going to force some changes to be made. 

She pressed a button, images and videos started showing on the giant screen behind them. If they could see the board members, they would have seen some very furious faces.

All of the images were of destroyed property, bruises or scratches on people, and even of old things like the destroyed make-up bag that Chloe took a marker to. Then was the clear message when pictures of Lila and Chloe were shown with GUILTY under their pictures then with pictures of the school staff with DOES NOTHING under them.

Lila, Chloe, and Damocles were all white as ghosts.

Vallia- “The world has gone crazy and no one seems to listen Gotta step in, no more maybes, and stop the demolition Is it hope or fear? Look in the mirror Everything we built is coming down.” Juleka- “No more hesitation, it's time we start to realize With all this separation, silence is still taking sides So use your voice, make a choice And tell me, are you standing with the crowd?” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.” Then videos were played on the screen. The first were from the day that Marinette was expelled. It was footage from the school security cameras that they got when Markov, the ever helpful AI, hacked into them when the group asked for his help. He was more than happy to help slap some sense into Max.

It clearly showed Lila taking the test answers and putting them in Marinette’s bag. It also showed her fake falling down the stairs and placing her necklace into Marinette’s locker. The video moved on to showing all the times that her or Chloe would grab onto Adrien and would never let go no matter how many times he told them to. The video also showed it happening in front of teachers and they never did anything.

More videos showed Chloe bullying, destroying other art projects that were not her own, and even all the things she did that got most of the class akumatized when it happened on school grounds. They also got videos from Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and every other celebrity that Lila lied about. All of them saying they had never met Lila in their lives. All six- “Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us.”

More videos and photos identified every bully in the school. Each and every single one of them being rich, or have influential parents that Damocles was afraid of, or both. The other students all gathered near the stage, showing their support to the band and hardly anyone supporting the staff or the bullies. Alya was still speechless over Lila’s lies being revealed and what she had said to Marinette in “defense” of Lila. Sabrina was also pale as she remembered everything that Chloe ever made her do, like stealing Marinette’s diary and locking Juleka in the bathroom. Adrien- “History changes, but we lost the pages we wrote When you lose direction, can't see the reflection you know We came from the bottom then became the problem Now everything's out of control So hey, are you with me? Let's go!”

The students cheered and danced as the band all sang. They all knew that they were now going to finally be free of the bullies and liars that have been plaguing their lives for years. All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

The band finished with a bang, staring down the staff with cold eyes that said that they regretted nothing. Everyone they stared as were about as pale as a person could be.

After the dance, the Board of Education members brought everything that they had learned and seen to the rest of the board. Actions were immediately taken over the weekend. There was an intense investigation into the school and every member of the staff. Not that surprising, but Mendeleiev was the only staff member that never did anything wrong but was constantly blocked from doing anything by the other staff members.

Damocles was revealed to have been using money granted to the school for things like locker upgrades and new textbooks for his Owl gear instead. Plus he was also found out to be taking many bribes from parents of the bullies to not only keep them from being punished but to also increase their grades if they were low. He was fired immediately.

Bustier also faces a lot of consequences. When the investigation was made known, dozens of her old students came forward. It was revealed that her methods have caused all of them pain. She had spent years coddling the bullies and punishing the victims. Many ended up in therapy while the bullies usually ended up in jail for mostly violent crimes. She had her teaching license revoked and was blacklisted from ever teaching again.

The rest of the staff were all suspended until they finished courses about how to deal with bullies, how to properly run a classroom, as well as all of them having to pay finds.

All of the bullies were either expelled or suspended, depending on how horrible they were. A lot of them were having to repeat the grade because of how much their parents had spent to keep their grades up while they did hardly any work. 

Alya, while being sued for the lies she posted on her blog, did not do anything else beyond cyber bullying of Marinette. But that did get her another lawsuit from her former best friend’s parents as well as being suspended from school for a week. Her parents forced her to delete the Ladyblog.

Chloe and Lila were, of course, the worst of them all.

Chloe ended up expelled and it was found out that she was also banded from every private school in the city because of how well her bullying habits were known. Her father was also facing multiple accusations of abuse of power because of how he handled problems that his daughter caused. Chloe could also hardly ever leave the hotel without being sneered or yelled at by literally everyone in Paris.

Lila was not only expelled, but also had giant finds placed on her after she was arrested for her months of truancy. Every celebrity she had ever lied about was also suing her for slander, defamation, and libel. It was also revealed that her mother had taken away her diplomatic immunity once she had learned about all the lies that her daughter told her and everyone around her. Her reputation as a liar has spread all throughout France and she will never be able to use her schemes ever again. Her mother makes sure to inform all her future teachers and principals about her lying and bullying habits.

All while this is happening, the new band clinks their glasses together as they cheers for a job well done. And if Adrien also happens to be kissed by a certain Greek lead singer, that is just a bonus for him.

[viking-raider]

Fangs Deep - Part IV *Mature*

Summary: Luna and Henry’s relationship continues to grow and develop a firm foundation. Titus invites Luna to a very important Vampire event with Henry, where she ends up causing some serious trouble.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Word Count: 9,444

Parts: I II III

Rating: M - Language, Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy, Size Kink, Caregiver Kink, Fluff, Angst, Slight Bullying, Light Spanking, Aftercare, Vampire Politics

Inspiration: Vampire!Henry is such a mood!

Author’s Note: It’s a sorta dark fic and sorta not. Thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for reading it for me and being its beta! Tell me what you think!

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie, @jessevans, @rosie-loves-things, @ohjules, @mary-ann84, @omgkatinka, @the-freak-cassie-131, @heelsamizayn, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4, @michelehansel, @kaatelyyynn, @badassbaker, @mrsaugustwalker, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe, @severuined, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @bellastellaluna, @wondersofdreaming, @thisisntmyrightera, @michelle-1185, @winchwm, @royallylazy, @sofiebstar, @worldicreate, @agniavateira, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @witches-of-discovery-a, @xuxszx, @ayamenimthiriel, @keiva1000, @fantasygirlsuniverse, @itsreigns, @constip8merm8, @scorpionchild81, @mylifefallingupthestairs, @onlyhenrys, @luclittlepond, @ellixthea, @lebguardians, @geralt-yennefer-jeskier, @cherrybloomn, @p3nny4urth0ught5, @iloveyouyen, @hollydaisy23, @mcuimagination, @psychosupernatural, @sweetlybigdragonn, @whitewolfandthefox, @moviemonzy, @the-soot-sprite, @hell1129-blog, @trippedmetaldetector, @captaingothgirl1996, @dont8mind8me8eue, @peaky-marvel, @desperate-and-broken21, @monstersnmoney, @dancingwendigo, @redhot-mystacism, @thereisa8ella, @black-ninja-blade, @oddduckthatgirl, @rosewinx, @henrythickcavill, @tinabean37, @hnryycvll, @msblkfire84, @romangenesius, @emelinelovesjc, @strangerliaa, @lovieebby, @pinksdaydream, @fanfictionaddiction99, @seb-owns-these-tatas, @oh-for-fic-sake, @sauvage-et-libre, @mis-lil-red, @angreav, @crazyandanonymous4u, @the-mighty-jellybean @syversons, @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair, @iam-laiya, @worshipping-skarsgard, @thetruthandotherstories, @ruthoakenshield​, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​, @theonetheycallhannah​, @nina-skyee​, @thatgirly81​, @inanna999​, @suueeeeeee​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8​, @beckster07890​, @daddys-littlewhitegirl

“No.” Henry shook his head at Luna.

“Why not?” She pouted back. “It's cute.”

“It's too revealing.” He replied, taking the shirt out of her hands and putting it back on the rack.

“You said, I could have anything I wanted.”

“I did, but I'm not having you walking around with your breasts practically hanging out.” He chided her, directing her away from the article of clothing.

“But, Henry--”

“Do you want to shop, or do you want to go home?” He asked, stopping and looking down at her.

“I want to shop.” She replied, blinking up at him, gulping at the intense feeling coming off of him.

“Then, stop whining.” He told her, jaw tight. “If you try throwing another tantrum, we're going home and you're going to be stuck in the corner, for the rest of the day. Got it?” He warned her, in a low voice, with an edge that dared her to have the gall to defy him.

Luna's mouth dried up and fell open, big blue eyes staring at him in shock, the pure authority dripping off of him and washing over onto her was so intense, she was left speechless for a moment. She had allowed Henry, unspoken, to start acting more as a Caregiver, and Daddy her more, and she was still getting used to it. She hadn't gotten comfortable enough with it yet to call him Daddy or anything of the sort and Henry had so far only gave her stern words, if she started to misbehave and get out of line; before her brain was able to come back online.

“I got it.” She whispered, licking her dry lips.

“Excellent.” He sighed and relaxed again, gently touching her hair. “You want to finish?”

“Yes, please.” Luna nodded, relaxing as well.

“Well, go on then.” Henry smiled, kissing her cheek. “I'll be right here.”

Luna looked between Henry and the clothing section, making Henry smirk, and gave her a gentle nudge, then watched her start to weave in and out of the racks and shelves of clothing. She browsed the selections, picking things up and putting them back down, then held them up for Henry to see, wanting his approval on them, and would smile, when he nodded his head. A text on Henry's phone distracted him for a moment as Luna rounded a corner into another section of the store. He was just about to reply to the text, when he felt a spike in Luna's blood pressure and quickly made his way to her, expecting the absolute worse as he went around the corner.

“Luna?” He called out, panning around for her. “Where are you?”

“Right here, Hen.”

Her voice answered back, making Henry drop his gaze to the floor, where she was sitting cross legged in front of a display of big eyed beanie babies, cradling a gray, blue-eared Elephant in her hands. Henry relaxed, realizing Luna wasn't in danger or frightened; she was just excited at how cute the stuffed animal was, hugging it to her chest.

“Look how cute it is, Hens!” She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling.

“It's a very cute stuffie, Luna.” He smiled back at her, feeling her melting over it. “Would you like it?”

“Yes, I would.” She nodded her head, vigorously.

“He's yours then.” He chuckled, reaching his hand out for it.

“No, I want to hold it.” Luna shook her head, hugging it closer to her body.

“All right.” Henry laughed and shook his head at her, amused.

Luna carried the little stuffed beanie baby around with her as she looked around the store, picking out several articles of clothing, a couple shirts and a super cute pair of shoes. Henry secretly bought her a pair of expensive earrings with her birthstone set in them. Which he presented to her over lunch at a nice restaurant, Luna's mouth dropped open as he opened the velvety box and set it in front of her plate.

“Oh god, Henry.” She gasped, setting her fork down and picking up the box. “How did you even know my birthday?” She asked, looking across at him.

“I'm a very rich man, Sweet girl.” Henry smirked at her. “I can find anything out with the right amount of money.”

“You could have just asked me.”

“I could have.” Henry nodded, taking a sip of his water. “But, that would have given away the surprise.” He chuckled. “Do you like them?”

“I do.” Luna nodded, gently touching the teardrop opal earrings, a ring of diamonds around them. “They're absolutely beautiful.”

“Excellent.” Henry smiled, relieved. “We have one more shop to go to.” He told her, digging back into his food.

“For what?” Luna frowned, closing the box and setting it back down.

“You need a formal dress.”

“For what?” She repeated, lifting a brow at him.

“There's an event coming up in the next few days.” He sighed, finishing his lunch and pushed his plate aside, wiping his mouth with his cloth napkin. “I was going just have Tali watch you, while I attended it, but Titus specifically asked me to bring you.”

Luna swallowed. “Why?”

Henry heaved a sigh. “He likes you.” He admitted, rubbing the side of his face. “You made quite the impression on him two week ago, you are the only Human to stand up to Titus like you did, and live. I was sure he was going to kill you for being so blatantly disrespectful.”

“I didn't mean to be rude.” She whispered, shyly. “I just wanted you two to stop being so angry at each other. It was making me dizzy and like I was going to pass out.”

“You felt him?” Henry blinked at her, surprised. “You felt Titus's anger, through me?”

“I guess.” She blinked back at him. “Is that weird?”

“That is weird.” He nodded, licking his lips, then shook his head. “Anyway, the event happens yearly, the top elite of the Vampire Society go and Titus hosts it, naturally. As his son, heir and Prince, I am required to attend, there's no ifs, ands or buts about it.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Luna asked, uncomfortable and nervous about going to a party full of Vampires.

“Naturally, I'll be your escort, since you are my Nexum, and you'll be by my side, the whole time.” He explained to her.

“What's a Nexum?” Luna frowned, shaking her head at him.

“It's what a Human is called, when they are blood bound to a Vampire. You are blood bound to me, so it makes you my Nexum. It's Latin for bound or linked.” He explained to her.

“That being said, you need to understand something, my baby girl.” He whispered, his voice critical, as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Whatever you do, whatever you say, will be watched very closely and very meticulously, with extremely judgmental eyes, by several people that can be quite dangerous and cause a never-ending amount of trouble for Titus, and the rest of the Vampire society.”

“I don't know if I want to go with you, Henry.” Luna said softly, feeling her hands start to shake at the thought of saying or doing something wrong and possibly starting a serious conflict for Henry and Titus.

Henry smiled softly at her. “You'll be okay, Luna.” He assured her. “You just need to listen to what I tell you to do. I don't want to tell you not to say anything, that's rude and all. But, I need you to be very careful in what you say, if someone speaks to you, or you to them.”

“Like, what?”

“Don't speak of my business.”

“I don't know anything about your business.” She said, softly. “Other than that, you have a host of Humans that know of Vampires existing and are contracted to one of them, purely to feed on; so they don't go out attacking and killing people on the streets.”

“That's quite enough information for some people, little one.” He smiled at her. “If they ask you about it, try and behave like you don't know anything about it.”

“I'm not a good liar, Hen.”

“I know you aren't, love.” Henry laughed.

“What if they try glamouring it out of me?” She asked, suddenly.

“I'll be able to sense the change in you, if someone tries too, and I will put a swift end to it.” He assured her.

And them. He thought.

“You are part of my world now, Luna.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Part of me wishes I never dragged you into it, it's so dangerous and unpredictable. But, I love you so fucking much, that thinking about a life without you is painful and almost unbearable. I need you. I want you. I crave you. All the time. I've never felt like this with anyone, the closest is my bond with Titus.” He cleared his throat, fighting down a lump of emotions.

“I will do anything, and everything, I need to to ensure your safety, happiness and well-being. Even if it costs me my life.”

Luna leaned forward and grabbed at Henry's hands, still resting on the table. “Please, don't leave me.” She begged him, afraid at the thought of losing him.

“I won't, if I can absolutely avoid it.” He promised, squeezing her trembling hands. “Now, finish eating and we'll go dress shopping.” He smiled at her, sweetly.

“I don't know, Henry.” Luna said, chewing on her thumbnail as she looked at all the super expensive and really elegant dresses in front of her. “The only time I wore a dress was when I was going to school and it was for dress code.”

“Hm.” Henry hummed, rubbing her back as he stood next to her. “Do you trust Daddy?” He asked, looking down at her, he had started to refer to himself as Daddy to her more, hoping to help her get used to the term and the theme of it.

It still struck Luna as odd, she never called her biological father Daddy, not even as a small child; he was either dad or Colby. Gulping and clearing her throat, Luna nodded at Henry, still chewing on her nails.

“All right.” He smiled at her, gently wrapping his hand around her wrist and pulled her fingers away from her mouth. “Sit right there.” He pointed to a chair behind them. “And I'll pick something out for you.”

“Okay.” Luna nodded and sat down, watching Henry browse the selections.

“You need something elegant, but practical and appropriate.” He said, taking a dress off the rack, shook his head and put it back. “Nothing too revealing, but still shows those beautiful curves of yours.” He bit his lip and looked over at her.

“How are you with high heels?”

“I'd rather walk on hot nails.”

Henry chuckled, smirking at her. “Then, a dress that pairs well with flats.”

Henry spent several minutes looking through the store's collection, before his eyes landed on a black and royal blue, gradient ombre evening dress, a single shoulder strap with a row of straps at the back. It would hug Luna's curves, without giving anything away that only Henry should be able to see. It's length was appropriate enough for the occasion, but wouldn't be hindered by the fact she would be wearing flats, instead of heels.

“What about this one?” He asked, bringing it for her to see. “It really goes with the earrings I got you.” He smiled, watching her look the dress over. “and your eyes.”

“I really like it.” Luna nodded, licking her lips and getting up to have a closer look at it. “Oh, god.” She gasped, seeing the price tag.

“I don't care about the price, and you know it, sweet girl.” Henry chuckled and turned towards the wall of shoes the store also had. “These will work.” He pulled down a pair of black, almond-toe ballet flats with ankle straps and the smallest of raised heels.

“You're going to look even more gorgeous than usual.” He said, kissing her and taking the shoes and dress to the counter, paying for them.

“Did you feed Kal the rest of your lunch?” Henry asked, standing next to Luna as she sat at the dining table, his hands on his hips.

“No.” Luna shook her head, blushing as she lied to him.

“I know you're lying, Luna.” He sighed, disappointed in her. “So, tell the truth. Did you give Kal the rest of your food?”

“No.” She shook her head again, gulping.

Henry rolled his jaw and set a chair next to her, sat down, then pulled her into his lap. “Look at me.” He told her, baby blues serious. “Why are you lying to me?” He asked her, once she held his eyes.

“I'm—not...” She whimpered, looking away from him, guilty.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers at her. “Look at me, don't look over there. My eyes are right here.” He held her chin in his fingers and turned her face back to his. “There's a good girl.”

“Now, out with it and tell Daddy the truth.”

“I'm--” Luna started to repeat herself, but Henry shook his head at her.

“You know, how you started to quietly let me take care of you?” He said, brows lifting.

“Mmhm.” She nodded, sucking on her bottom lip and struggling to keep eye contact with him.

“I think we need to have a verbal agreement on you allowing me to correct you.” He said, licking his lips, he could feel her raised anxiety at the notion of Henry punishing her; the PTSD of her father and everyone else that had abused her.

“I would never hurt you.” He told her softly, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Or abuse you, for that matter.”

“Would you hit me?” She whimpered.

Henry sighed. “You mean spank you?”

Luna nodded her head, dropping her eyes from his for a moment, before bringing them back.

“I wouldn't spank you, if you don't like it, were uncomfortable with it or it caused you to have a flashback episode. There's several punishments I could give you for misbehaving. From a time-out in the corner, writing lines, taking something away, like your phone or your Switch, or making you go to bed early.” He explained to her, patiently.

“If there was something you did that was so bad , that it warranted me spanking your bottom, I will ask you first. If not, I'll punish you another way. Deal?” He compromised with her.

Luna sat in Henry's lap for a little while, mulling over the options and the explanation he gave her. Considering, if it was something she was comfortable with and didn't scare her, which she knew wasn't ever Henry's intention. Luna was more than sure Henry would never do anything to harm her, put her in danger, against her will, or anything of the sort.

She really didn't mind Henry acting as a Caregiver or a Daddy towards her, the added attention was nice. He would read to her before bed, something she always loved to do, because it helped her quiet down her mind. He made sure she ate breakfast, lunch and dinner, as well as stayed hydrated. She had a horrible habit of not drinking enough water, which nearly caused Henry's head to explode with shock, when he realized it. He would give her a bath too, if she was up for it; which she was most of the time.

The strong and reassuring feel of his strong hands massaging her body felt nice, and she marveled at the fact Henry was capable of being so insanely gentle. He could crush any part of Luna's body, with the weakest amount of pressure from his Vampire strength against her feeble Human body. Yet, he was so so gentle as he rubbed the soapy washcloth against her delicate skin, not leaving anything behind, not a single mark, but the soapy suds on her clean and fragrant skin.

No, Henry would never hurt Luna, even if he were to spank her.

And Luna knew that, with every drop of his blood inside her body.

“I'm--” She gulped and blushed, bright red.

“You can tell me, sweetie.” Henry whispered, soothing his hand up and down her back, getting her to relax so she leaned against him, her temple resting against his forehead. “Take your time.” He added, whispering into her ear.

“I don't--” Luna sighed, shifting in his lap. “I don't completely understand this. I know you've been, Daddying, me since we met, that night.” She confessed, speaking slowly, so her words didn't come out in a jumbled mess. “I didn't fully realize it, or even knew what it was, until you said something about it.”

“It confuses me..”

“What about it confuses you, Nana?” Henry inquired, when she paused for a moment.

“Why do you do it?” She asked, looking down at her own lap.

“Why do I love being a Caregiver and a Daddy?” He asked, looking for clarification.

“Yeah.”

Henry took a deep breath and glanced up for a moment, trying to find a way to explain to Luna the reason why he enjoyed and loved doing it, why the kink attracted him so much. “I love taking care of people I love and care about. I'm very protective of those close and important to me.” He frowned and shook his head, struggling to explain it.

“I know, it's a very different kind of loving, protective care. Drawing you baths and bathing you, picking out your outfits and making your meals for you. Helping you make decisions, or making them for you, when you can't. Making sure you're happy and healthy, taking your antidepressant--”

“I'm bad at that.” Luna blushed, abashed.

“I know you are.” Henry chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That's why I make sure to give it to you, myself. Then, I know for sure you've taken it and that important and vital need you have, is filled.”

“I enjoy being the person you come to when you're sad or upset, when you're struggling with something, whatever it is, and be the person to help you fix it. To be that ear, when you need someone to listen to you or the shoulder, you need to cry on; to comfort you. Your support system. I love you and I want to take care of you, in every way, shape and form. Being a Caregiver and a Daddy to you is one of those ways, as is me being your boyfriend.”

“And my Vampire.” She chuckled at him, cheeks still warm.

“That too.” Henry smiled, warmed and touched. “I'm not a normal person, and not just because I'm a Vampire. I'm unconventional in a lot of ways. If you don't want or don't like me being a caregiver and a Daddy to you, I will stop. I'll just be your supportive and loving boyfriend and protective Vampire. All I want is your health, happiness and well-being. To love and cherish you, inside and out. To have your love and affection back.”

“Do I do that?” She asked, glancing up at him. “Share your love and affection back?”

“In so many ways, babe.” He nodded, kissing her cheek. “You take care of me, as much as I take care of you.”

“I don't mind you Daddying me, or wanting to be my Caregiver.” Luna admitted to him. “That's why I don't say anything, when you do it.”

“But, it does make you uncomfortable sometimes.” Henry said, he had felt and noticed it.

“I'm just not used to someone wanting to take care of me like that, or at all, really. It's not a 'I'm uncomfortable because I don't like it or want it.' It's a 'I've never had this before, and don't know how else to react.'”

“If that makes any sense.”

“It does.” He nodded, softly. “I understand that, and I try not to be too overbearing with it. I don't want to push it on you, all at once, and have you become really uncomfortable with it. I'm an extremely patient man, Luna. I'll do whatever it takes and I'll move at any pace you want too. I don't care if it takes you months, or even years, to get comfortable enough to call me, Daddy. I don't care if you never call me Daddy. That's not what I'm seeking from you.”

“If you want to completely give yourself into allowing me to be your Daddy and be your Caregiver, then great. If you only want to give half of yourself to it, fine. If you don't want to do it at all, then we won't do it at all, that's great too. As long as I have you.”

“I'm willing to try some things, to see what I do and don't like, before I decide how much of it I want to give myself over too. If that's all right with you, Henry?” She said, very quietly. “You don't know if you like something, until you try it at least once; my mum always said.”

“That's more than fine with me, sweetheart.” Henry told her, patient and understanding.

“So, I'm all right with you punishing me, if I'm bad.” Luna told him, bluntly. “And, if you feel one of them does require a spanking, I would like to, at least, talk about it before you do it.”

“Of course.” Henry nodded, seriously. “I will never punish you without giving you at least one warning and telling you why I'm doing it and what it is. I try to be a rational person in everything I do.”

Luna wrapped her arms around Henry's neck and hugged him, she actually felt a lot better about the new and developing dynamic in their complicated relationship. Luna had grown to trust Henry, she had started trusting him almost instantly, when they met, and she never trusted anyone more than him. Henry hugged her back, feeling her reassurance mix with his own assurance and relief.

“I did give Kal the rest of my lunch.” She confessed into his ear, still hugging his neck. “I'm sorry for lying to you and feeding Kal non-doggy food.”

“Why did you?” Henry asked, pulling her away from his neck and looking her in the eyes.

“I wasn't hungry anymore and he kept staring at me, so I just did it.” She admitted, nervously licking her lips.

“You already know how naughty that is, don't you?”

“I do, Henry.” She nodded, ashamed of herself.

“All right.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I don't want you to ever lie to me again, understand? If you do, there will be severe consequences.”

“I understand, Henry.”

“I don't want you to feed Kal anything that isn't meant for doggy's to eat, either. You can make him very sick.” He added, giving her a firm look. “Now, I want you to go upstairs to your room and get your Switch and your phone. You're losing your games for lying to me and your phone for feeding Kal inappropriate foods.”

“Okay.” She whimpered, hanging her head.

“That's a good girl.” He whispered back, kissing her cheek. “Go get them, please.” He told her, standing her up and directing her towards the stairs.

Luna went upstairs to her bedroom, getting her phone and Nintendo Switch. Coming out of her room, she found Henry standing by his bedroom door, his hand held out. With a soft pout, Luna put them in his hand and Henry went into his walk-closet, locking them inside his safe, so she wouldn't be tempted to sneak them; though Henry didn't think she would.

“Henry.” Luna said, as he got into the driver's seat beside her.

“What, baby?” He replied and started the car, before looking at her.

“I'm scared.” She whimpered, fidgeting with Henry's signet ring, that still hung around her neck.

She had been panicked and anxious about the party for the wealthiest and most elite Vampires in the world, for nearly the week leading up to it. She didn't want to mess up and cause any problems for him and Titus, or anyone else for that matter. Luna had tried, once, already to convince Henry to just let her stay home, even if it meant being babysat by Tali. But, Henry refused to allow it, he wasn't going to defy Titus's wish for her to attend the event, as much as he wanted to give into her wish, about staying home. Henry sighed and rested his hand on her thigh, gently stroking the chiffon fabric of her dress, he felt bad for her, he really did.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He frowned, kissing her temple and trying to reassure her as much as possible. “But, you'll be all right and you'll be perfect tonight. I have all the faith in you.”

“What if I do fuck up?” She asked.

“Watch your language.” He corrected her, gently. “If you end up saying or doing anything that causes trouble, we'll deal with it accordingly.”

“Will you punish me?” Luna squeaked, she had given Henry verbal consent to punish her, if he felt she needed it.

“That will completely depend on what you do or say, sweet girl.” Henry replied in a measured voice.

Henry opened the car door and helped Luna step out, then handed the keys to the valet standing on the curb, patiently waiting to be of service.

“Thank you, Bruno.” Henry smiled to the valet, looping Luna's arm with his and walked into the massive building with her. “It'll be all right, love.” He whispered into her ear as they entered the large and spacious room, full of people.

“Are all of them Vampires?” She whispered back, eyes sweeping the room.

“There are several other Nexums here. There's a few humans that are assistants or just arm candy.” He explained, scanning the room himself.

“Nephew!” A voice rumbled with a cheery tone.

“Remus!” Henry grinned at the dark haired Vampire advancing on him, and returned the bear hug. “Bindy.” He smiled at the young lady with him, kissing her hand, politely.

“Who's this sweet dove?” Remus asked, lifting a brow at Luna.

“Remus, this is Luna Davenport, my Nexum.” Henry replied, smiling so proudly at Luna. “Luna, this is Remus, Titus's youngest brother, and this is Bindy, his Child and Partner.” He introduced the three of them.

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Remus smiled at Luna, extending his hand to her.

“And you.” She smiled back softly, letting him have her hand and blushed softly as he kissed it.

“Pleasure.” Bindy smiled at Luna, leaning in and kissing cheeks with her.

“Same.”

“Is Soren and Emil here?” Henry asked, resting his hand on Luna's hip.

“Soren and Alan aren't here, they've got pressing business in the States to deal with, and Emil..” Remus replied, looking around the room. “Ah, there he is.” He motioned to the entrance on the other side of the room.

“What is Wyn doing with him?” Henry asked, heart pounding.

“Don't you know?” Bindy asked, lifting a brow at him. “The two of them have, apparently, become a thing. Emil adopted her, after Seb died.”

“How did you not know that, after how many decades the two of you were gallivanting around the world together?” Remus laughed.

“I knew she and Emil knew each other, I didn't know about the nature of their relationship.” He answered, feeling a cold sweat start to break out.

Luna looked up at Henry, concerned and squeezed his arm, bringing him back out of his building panic, smiling softly at him as he looked down at her. Henry smiled back down at her, squeezing her hand in return, then shivered as a cold tingle ran down his back.

“Excuse us.” Henry smiled at Remus and Bindy, leading Luna away from them and back into the hallway outside of the event space.

“What is it, Hen?” Luna frowned.

“Titus wants to see us.”

“How do you know that?”

“He sensed us in the area and called for me through our bond.” He explained, stopping at a door at the very end of the hall and knocked, before entering.

“Titus.”

“Henry.” Titus smiled, turning towards him. “Ah, and Luna.” He grinned at her, giving her a once over. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He complimented her, kissing both her cheeks and her hand, chuckling at her blush. “I am glad you came.” He added, softer.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Luna replied, biting her lip.

“Of course.” Titus nodded his head. “You're my son's partner and Nexum, I wouldn't dream of not including you in the family functions.” He assured her, with a light touch of her arm. “Henry,” Titus turned to him. “The Duke of France, Dimitri Rodin, is attending this function. Being that your French is considerably better than mine, I would like you to entertain him and his wife, Louise. There's been rumor that the Duke of Russia, Anton Smirnov, is trying to form an alliance with Dimitri, to undermine my throne.”

“Again?” Henry hissed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Yes, he's still holding the claim of being one of Arius's children.”

“Arius was dead by the time that wrench popped into existence.” He huffed back, gobsmacked at the Russian's attempt to take the throne out from under Titus.

“We know this, but he has already convinced Peter Kindler, Duke of Germany of it, and almost has Isabella York, Duchess of America convinced of it as well. That's why Soren and his Child, Allan, are there dealing with it.”

“It's going to be a very politically fueled night, then.” Henry sighed, running a hand through his combed curls, the styling balm he put in to tame them was bare capable of doing so. “I fear, I won't be a load of fun tonight, baby girl.” He frowned, sympathetically, at Luna, whose mind was spinning from all the information he and Titus discussed.

“It's okay, Henry.” She replied, blinking the tangle of thoughts out of her head. “The fate of whatever you two were just talking about, sounds a million times more important.”

Henry's smile softened, cupped her head in his hands and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for understanding, honey.” He whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you.” He added, even softer.

“I love you too, Hen.” Luna smiled and whispered back, resting her hands on his hips.

“What?” Henry frowned, pulling away from Luna to look at Titus, who had the strangest smile and elated look on his face.

“I didn't say anything.” He laughed, turning away to look into a small mirror on his desk, fixing his tie.

“You don't need to say anything.” Henry teased back, shaking his head at his Maker.

“Why don't we all go out and make ourselves seen.” Titus replied, turning back around, utterly put together and composed.

The vibe of Titus's authority and power oozed off of him in heavy waves, if there was any doubt to his age and station in the world, standing next to him for a few moments completely crushed that doubt to ash. Henry stepped around Luna and opened the office door, bowing his head as Titus stepped through and kept his head bowed as Luna followed behind him, then brought up the rear of his two most beloved people in the world.

Offering his arm to her again, Luna and Henry followed after Titus as he walked down the hall, the people there, lining the walls to get out of the King's way, bowing their heads respectfully as he passed them. There was a tall chair at the front of the room, on a slight platform; which Titus went straight for and sat down in, taking his place as head of the event, the Vampire Society and rightful King. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, conversations ending mid-word and eyes drawn to him.

It was eerily silent for several long moments before, slowly, all the champagne and wine glasses raised in the air, toward Titus, and in one voice, echoing in the room came the worlds: “Vivat Rex.”

Long live the King.

“Longo vivas tempore.” Titus chanted back.

That you may live a long time.

Henry quietly translated the phrases into Luna's ear afterwards, then took a sip of his wine, hailing and honoring Titus and his reign.

They stood together for a while, speaking to whoever came to speak with them, but Henry was keeping his eye out for the Duke of France. He had explained to her, between the lull of people approaching them, that each country around the world had either a Duke or Duchess to preside over the region, since Titus couldn't be everywhere all at once. They all answered to him, no matter what, but like all Kingdoms, there was disdain going on. Several of the Dukes and Duchesses, more vocally the Duke of Russia, felt that Titus had reigned as King long enough, and needed to step down and let new blood in.

Namely, anyone, other than the Arius bloodline.

“So, Titus, his brothers, you and so on?” Luna asked, sipping the glass of wine Henry had given her.

“Exactly.” He nodded, sipping his champagne. “Ah, Dimitri!” Henry smiled, seeing the Duke enter the room, both of them bowing to each other. “Comment allez-vous?” He asked, switching his glass to his right hand and shook the Duke's with his left.

“Très bien et toi?”

“Même.” Henry nodding his head, politely. “Duke Dimitri, I would like you to meet my girlfriend and Nexum, Luna Davenport. Luna, this is Dimitri Rodin, Duke of France.” He said, motioning a hand from Dimitri to Luna, giving Dimitri the permission to address her.

“Un plaisir de vous rencontrer, ma chère.” Dimitri smiled, taking Luna's hand and bowing over it, before giving it a delicate kiss.

“Merci, mon plaisir aussi.” Luna grinned back, flattered.

“You know French?” Henry smirked, surprised and impressed.

“Top marks in my class.” She replied, loving the amused surprise on Henry's face to learn something he didn't know about her.

“My little box of surprises.” He chuckled, kissing her temple.

“Your Maker noted that you wished to speak with me, when I paid my respects to him.” Dimitri said, lifting a brow at Henry.

“Ah, yes.” He nodded, setting his glass down and got down to business. “It's been brought to my attention that Anton has been trying to form an alliance with you, on the false pretense of being an Heir to the Arius bloodline, my Maker's bloodline.” Henry started to explain to him, his whole air changed as he started talking business with him, his shoulders relaxed and he locked his arms behind his back, giving Dimitri and their conversation his complete attention.

“Oui, Monsieur Anton, came to my offices in Paris, not a month before. Wishing to discuss a possible business venture together, that could increase our standings in the Society.” Dimitri began to explain to him, brow pinching. “We only spoke briefly on the matter before he was forced to cut the meeting short, because of a...problème.”

“What was the issue?”

“One of the people he patrons summoned him on a personal matter.” Dimitri explained to Henry. “I didn't see the note, so I know not what it was exactly about.” He took a sip of his wine, then handed it to a boy standing just behind him. “I assure you, Monsieur Cavill, I have no intentions on breaking my promise and oath to King Titus. He has been generous and most helpful to me, not only in installing me as Duke of France, after my predecessor, Monsieur Jean-Luc tragically took his life.” He made a cross over his chest, an old habit from his Human life.

“But, personally as well. I would have been in financial ruin, had he not invested in my company, for Vampire-Friendly restaurants.”

“I would hate for you to believe Anton's nonsense and not only lose your position as Duke, but for your company to collapse as well.” Henry told him, in a tone that was filled with pity should such a thing happen, but also lined with a threat that if the Duke dared to cross Titus, Dimitri would lose everything.

“Oui.” Dimitri nodded, gulping and readjusting his tightening tie and collar.

Henry suddenly looked down at Luna, startling her for a moment, with the strange and dark tint of his eyes. “Tali.” He said and snapped his fingers.

A tall, dark haired and Hazel-eyed woman suddenly appeared beside Henry, brow lifted at him in question. “Yes, Henry?”

“Will you please keep an eye on Luna, while Dimitri and I speak more about our business?” He asked, his eyes still on Luna. “I don't want to bore her with all this silly politics.” He told her, gently touching Luna's cheek and brushing her hair off her shoulder.

“Of course.” Tali nodded her head at Henry and offered Luna a sweet smile.

“I'll come find you, when I'm done here, sweetheart.” He told her, sweetly, and kissed her gently on the lips. “Do behave.” He added against her lips, before turning back to Dimitri, motion out of the room. “Shall we, Monsieur Rodin?”

“Hello, Luna.” Tali smiled offering her slender and smooth, cocoa colored hand. “I'm Talicia, but you can call me, Tali.”

“Pleasure to meet you, I've heard some about you from Henry and Titus.” Luna replied, shaking her head.

“All good I hope?” Tali laughed, she had a breathtaking smile.

“Oh, of course!” Luna nodded, worried she had offended her. “They hold you in really high regard, Titus especially.”

Tali grinned, looking at Titus over her shoulder as he sat on his throne talking to someone. “I do hope so, or he'll be having a rough night.” She chuckled.

“Excuse me?” Luna blinked at her, caught off guard.

“I'm Titus's Nexum.” She smiled at Luna, soothing away her confusion. “I started out as the CEO to one of his companies, the Hercules Corporation. It's a military company.” She explained to her.

“The government knows about Vampires?” Luna shook her head.

“Oh, yes. It's an open secret.” Tali nodded. “The Hercules Corporation caters to Vampires that are currently in active duty. It's very beneficial for the military and government to have Vampires in their employment. They are hard to kill, heal rather quickly, they're very fast and strong, among everything else they are capable of. I am also an agent for AI6, or Alpha Intelligence, Section Six.”

“It's like the MI6.”

“That's incredible!” Luna replied, really impressed by her.

“It is!” Tali smiled, proud of herself. “Titus took notice of me for my work as an Agent and started sending me on his most delicate cases and missions, and we hit it off and fell in love.”

It was hard to miss the pure look of love Tali had for Titus, and why he and Henry trusted her so much. It was a daunting job to help run a military company, on top of going on missions as a secret agent.

“Has he tried turning you?” Luna asked, innocently.

“Oh no.” She shook her head. “I'm content being Human, I don't want the stress of going through the change, then out living all my loved ones. So, we have an agreement that he won't turn me, no matter what.”

“It must be hard for him, to watch you age, while he stays the same, and then eventually has to watch you die.” Wyn's voice spoke as she came out of the crowd to join them.

“Titus and I know the sacrifice it demands, for the choice I made in not having him turn me.” Tali replied, coldly. “We've come to terms with it. Besides, the ingestion of Vampire blood, especially blood as strong as Titus's is, prolongs a Human's life. It won't be a while yet, until I die.”

“Unless, something was to happen to you.”

Tali narrowed her eyes at Wyn, opening her mouth to say something to her, before her eyes jerked towards Titus. “Excuse me, Luna. I'll be right back.” She said, touching Luna's arm for a moment, then crossed the room to her lover.

Luna floundered for a moment, getting stuck alone with Bronwyn for the first time, since they ran into each other on Kal's walk. “How are you, Wyn?” She asked, taking a large gulp of her wine.

“I'm excellent.” Wyn replied, flicking her red hair off her bare shoulders. “How are you, baby?” She chuckled, menacingly.

“Fine, thank you.” Luna huffed back, finished off her wine and turned around to set it on the table behind her. “What do you want, Wyn?”

“Just to talk.” She replied, running her eyes over Luna's outfit.

Henry had taken Luna to get her nails done and she had them painted a matte, royal blue with almond tips, the dress and ballet flats that he bought her, the Opal and Diamond earrings and Sapphire and Diamond Bracelet, he also gifted her to help tie in the outfit.

“Henry buy those for you?”

“He did.” Luna replied, lifting a brow at her.

“Where is he, anyway?” Wyn asked, looking around the room for him. “So, rude. Your first introduction into proper Vampire Society, and he ditches you.”

“He didn't ditch me.” Luna answered, narrowing her eyes at the other woman. “He had to go deal with a political situation with the Duke of France.”

“Oh, what's that all about, then?”

Luna started to open her mouth, then snapped it shut again, realizing she had already said more than she should have. Wyn smirked at her, knowing she had Luna exactly where she wanted her to be, crossing her arms over her chest in smug triumph.

“It's too late now, baby.” She mocked Luna, popping her lips at her. “You might as well tell me the rest.”

“No.” Luna squeaked softly, shaking her head.

“What's that matter, baby?” Wyn continued to taunt her. “It's not like the whole room doesn't know about what's going on. Everyone is talking about it, it's okay for you to talk about it too. Daddy doesn't have to know.” She giggled at Luna.

Luna's eyes panned around the room, to all the talking people and wishing that either Tali would come back or Henry would, but neither of them did and Luna could feel Wyn pressuring her, until she broke.

“There's something going on between France and Russia for the Vampires, and they want to dethrone Titus.” She blurted out, hoping she'd let it go now and leave her be.

“Bronwyn, leave Luna alone.” Tali snapped as she came back up to them, seeing the distressed and uncomfortable look on Luna's face and in her body language. “Don't you have horns you need to file down? I think I see them coming out right now.” She narrowed her eyes, critically at Wyn's forehead.

“Don't you dare call me Bronwyn, Talicia, or so—”

“Or what?” Tali snapped, stepping closer to Wyn, her sharp heels clicking on the expensive tile floor, completely unruffled by the other woman's attempt at intimidating her.

Wyn looked Tali over and huffed, backing down from her.

“That's what I thought, Bronwyn.” She said, purposely dragging out Wyn's name. “Now, get lost.” She added in a low hiss.

Huffing again, Wyn spun around on her high heels and stormed away, hands clenched into fists as she went. Tali watched after her, until she vanished in the crowd and turned back to Luna, relaxing her tense body.

“Are you all right?” She asked, looking Luna over.

“I'm fine, thank you for that.” Luna replied, biting her lip. “I don't think she likes me.”

“Bronwyn doesn't like anyone.” Tali told her, taking two glasses of wine off a serving plate as a waiter passed her, handing one of them to Luna. “She's always got her fangs in a bunch, and it doesn't help that you're with Henry; when she's still attracted to him.”

“She has no one to blame, but herself for that.” Luna commented, taking a relieved sip of the sweet and fruity white wine in her glass.

“Amen.” Tali nodded and clinked glasses with Luna, both of them laughing.

“Hey, Henry.” Tali smiled as the Brit appeared. “How was your meeting? She asked, but her smile slowly faded seeing him eye Luna. “What is it?”

“What have you been up too, little one?” He asked Luna.

“I've been right here with Tali, Henry.” Luna frowned at him, not understanding why he was giving off such an angry vibe.

“She's been right here with me the entire time, Henry.” Tali spoke up, noting how tense his body was under his suit. “We haven't left the room once.”

“Is that so?” He asked, tightly, the muscles of his jaw tightening and flexing.

“Yes.” Luna mewled, gulping.

“I only left her for a few moments to speak with Titus, but my eyes were on her the whole time.” Tali explained. “She didn't go anywhere. She only got, unfortunately, stuck talking to--”

Henry's upper lip twitched faintly, then looked to Tali. “Thank you for watching for me, I appreciate it. Greatly.” He told her with a quick nod of his head. “But, Luna and I need to have a private conversation.”

“Of course.” Tali nodded, putting her nursed glass of wine aside and nodded her head to them, before going back to join Titus.

Henry reached out and took the wine Luna had also been nursing and put it next to Tali's, then took her hand and led her out of the event room. He didn't say anything to her as he pulled her down the hallway to the lift, pressing the up button and waited for the lift to arrive.

“Henry--”

“Hush.” He cut her off, quickly and pulled her into the lift with him, pressing the second highest button and the doors closed.

Even as scared as she was about what was going on, Luna squeezed Henry's hand for comfort and got a quick squeeze back, relieving some of her anxiety. Stepping off the lift, Henry pulled a card out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and marched down the hall and swiped it into a reader, then pushed open a door, holding it.

“Go in.” He instructed Luna and followed in behind her.

It was a conference room, a long glass table in the middle with about a dozen office chairs pushed into it. The opposite wall was full length windows, showing off the bright and sparkling lights outside from the street fifteen stories below and surrounding buildings.

“What did I tell you about coming here with me tonight, Luna?” Henry finally asked, his jaw tight again.

“To behave.” She whispered, finally feeling the full extent of the trouble she was in.

“Behave how?”

Her mouth hung open for a few moments, then gulped. “I was to behave, by not talking about anything I shouldn't talk about.”

“Why?”

“Cause it's important to you and Titus, and you can get in trouble, if the wrong people find out about it.” She replied, dropping her eyes to Henry's polished dress shoes.

“And did you behave like you should have, while I was away?”

Luna felt a hard lump instantly form in her throat and blinked several times at the growing burn in her eyes as tears wanted to form. “No.” She mouthed, soundlessly.

“What was that, little one?” Henry asked, brows lifting at her as he leaned slightly forward.

“No.” She mewled, a little louder, shaking her head.

“No, you did not.” He agreed, hooking his index finger into his tie and tugged it loose, too tight around his throat as his blood pressed throbbed in his neck. “You broke the one rule I gave you for tonight, Luna, and not only did you break it and misbehaved because of it, you said some very sensitive things.” He told her, removing his suit jacket and folding it over the back of a chair.

“I will take some of the blame for that, I shouldn't have said it in front of you.” He added, removing his cuff-links and rolling up the charcoal gray sleeves of his dress shirt. “I missed you being slightly into Little Space. That being said, you saying what you did, could and still can, cause a good amount of issues.”

“I didn't mean to.” Luna whined, biting back a pouty lip.

“You still did, little girl.” He told her, pulling out a chair and sat down. “What you said, could start a fucking war, if you said it to the right—or the wrong—person? The lives and livelihoods something like that can take, is astronomical, Luna.”

Luna just nodded her head, resigned to take the punishment for it.

“I promised, we would talk about this.”

Henry sighed, rubbing his face as exhaustion seeped into him. “The price of your actions is immeasurable. So, I'm going to spank you for it.” He told her, bluntly, and watched her shiver. “If it was anything else, I wouldn't. I would have simply taken you home and put you to bed, or sat you in the corner.”

“But, you need to understand the gravity of what's happened and been done, the things Titus and I now have to clean up. You need to feel the impact you just made.”

Luna shivered again and fought to keep her breathing under control and not break down.

“Do you accept this?” Henry asked her, seeking the permission to spank her, like he promised he would.

“What will you do, if I don't?” She asked him, glancing up at him.

“I'll take your Switch and Phone again, you'll be grounded to your room, with nothing; not even Kal, to keep you company, other than your thoughts. You also won't be able to sleep with me, either. If you try too, you'll be grounded for even longer.”

“How long will you ground me?”

“A month.”

Luna's eyes flared wide and her silent tears dripped down her cheeks. She could take not having her phone or games, even not being able to snuggle and play with Kal. But, to be stuck in her room, for a month, without being able to sleep with Henry, to be close to him. The thought of it alone made her hurt and anxious.

“What will be, Luna?” He asked her, patient, but still very upset and disappointed.

“I-I'll..” She gulped and rubbed at her face, smearing her wet make-up. “You-you can...” She took a deep breath and shuffled closer to him.

“You need to tell me, Luna. I'm not going to punish you, until you tell what choice you've made.” Henry shook his head. “Use your words.”

Luna glanced at the door.

“Don't worry about that, little one.” Henry told her, following her eyes. “No one's going to come up here and they can't hear, either. This room is soundproof.” He assured her, feeling her reluctance to be spanked in a building full of Vampires, who would no doubt hear it, if Henry hadn't taken the consideration to bring her here.

“You can...s-s-spank-me.” She mewled, meeting his eye.

“All right.” He nodded, wrapping his hand around her wrist and pulled her closer to him, moving her around to his side and pulled her across his lap, shushing her whine. “Don't tense, or it'll hurt more.” He explained to her, pulling her dress away from her bottom.

“Have you ever been spanked before, Luna?”

“Not exactly.” She replied, watching her necklace and Henry's signet ring swing back and forth on her neck.

“I want you to count each one I give you.” He told her, leaving her black lace panties on. “Nice and clear. If you miss a count, I'll start over at one. Any questions?”

“No, Henry.” Luna shook her head, hugging her arms around his leg and buried her nose into his thigh for a moment, inhaling his scent to help calm herself for a moment.

“Good, start counting.”

Henry pressed his hand down on the small of Luna's back, keeping her in place as he spread the fingers of his other hand open and cupped his palm, bringing it down in a firm and quick swat.

“One.” Luna jerked and hiccuped, surprised by the sting it left behind.

“Good girl.” He cooed at her, and gave her another smack.

“Two.” She whimpered, tears dripping to the carpet below her. “Three.”

“You're doing so good, little one.” Henry praised her, giving the red prints on her clothed bottom a firm rub.

“Four.” Luna sniffled, shivering in his lap. “Five.” She yelped as the fifth slap was the hardest.

“You're such a good girl, Luna.” Henry told her, rubbing her back for a few minutes, then fixed her dress and turned her around to sit in his lap. “Are you going to tell Daddy, what it was that you did wrong?”

The word Daddy made Luna's brain snap and jerked her head up to look him in the eyes. “Bronwyn.” She whimpered, realizing exactly what was going on now. “She told you, what I said?”

Henry blinked at Luna. “How did you know it was Bronwyn?”

“She was bullying me. Calling me a baby, in a mean way, said you ditched me and I just blurted out that you were with the Duke and what you were talking about.”

“She's who Tali said you got stuck talking too?”

“Yes.” Luna nodded, wrapping her arms around Henry's neck.

Henry frowned and cradled Luna against his chest, rubbing her back, even more troubled now. “It's all right, my good girl.” He whispered into her hair. “You took your punishment very well, I'm so proud of you.” He told her, pulling out his handkerchief and gently wiped her runny eyeliner off her face, smiling as she yawned and nuzzled her face into his neck.

“Why don't we just go home, hm?” He hummed, hugging his arms around her. “It's getting late and it's well past your bedtime.”

“I'd love that, Hen.” Luna agreed, her feet hurt from standing so long, she was overly warm from all the wine she drank and her bottom was slightly sore now, as well.

“All right.” He smiled, standing them up and tucked Luna into his jacket, kissing the top of her head.

“Why does Bronwyn bully me?” Luna asked, laying her head on Henry's shoulder as he drove them home.

“Because, she's Bronwyn.” Henry sighed, resting his hand on her leg. “She's upset that I'm with you. That I don't love her anymore. There's so many reasons, baby girl.” He turned his head and kissed her hair. “But, don't worry yourself about it.”

“She's just a bunch of hot air.”

-- Part V --

[dwellordream]

“In the mid-1910s, when the modern fashions were first introduced on the Danish scene, they provoked relatively little controversy. Even though the vast majority of fashion commentators found the new styles unfortunate, and fashion pioneers—such as the woman at the new year's party—met with gossip and disapproval within their own social circles, short dresses did not trigger much public opposition. After all, wealthy women were known to be given to extravagances, making them the easy victims of any designer whim. That a few working-class daughters adopted similar styles was not surprising either, given their notoriously "poor" taste and unfortunate propensity for flashy outfits. 

It was only when broader groups of young women began to adopt the new styles that public concern grew. Certainly, there were contemporaries who found any debate over this matter superfluous. As they saw it, the new styles were merely a temporary folly, doomed to vanish as quickly as it seemed to have appeared. But this was the view of a minority. Most people took the styles much more seriously, believing them to be a sign of more profound changes. In their eyes, young women who adopted shorter skirts, lower necklines, simpler cuts, and higher heels were doing more than simply altering the specific details of fashionable female apparel. In a more fundamental way, they seemed to be departing from older styles of proper and attractive femininity. 

Although some observers welcomed the new fashions as charming diversions from the older, more formal styles of dress, most older adults therefore watched the emergence of the "modern look" with considerable unease. At a time when the values and virtues associated with nineteenth-century womanhood were already under attack and longstanding gender arrangements seemed to be crumbling, these changes in women's dress were interpreted as yet another sign of rebellion against the status quo. Still, it remained rather unclear to most observers what these new styles might mean and what consequences they might have; as more and more women adopted the new styles, their efforts to determine the answers to these questions intensified. 

As a result, debates over women's fashions soared in the second half of the 1910s, and while some voices were risen in their defense, the vast majority of those who expressed their views publicly were deeply troubled and critical of the new styles. Although critics disagreed about which particular aspect of the new styles was more objectionable, they were unanimous in the complaint that modern fashions seemed to violate both gender norms and class hierarchies. The latter was not the least of their concerns. According to one observer, the new fashions obliterated "all differences among people. You can no longer tell who is the daughter of a common laborer and who belongs to the better circles."

Some observers blamed this on upper-class women's surprising preference for simplicity over adornment. Others faulted young working-class women and their inappropriate enthusiasm for "new fashionable finery." Less judgmentally, others argued that the erasure of visible class distinction was the inevitable outcome of readymade clothes. But no matter where they placed the blame, contemporary observers generally agreed that visual class differences were becoming increasingly blurred. The dangers of this were clear enough: Without the obvious visual clues of class status, an unsuspecting soul might inadvertently mistake a working-class girl for a young lady, or—worse yet—a young lady for a working-class girl.

In general, though, observers were more concerned about the new styles because they seemed to refute older codes of female virtue and modesty. What particularly troubled many critics of the new styles was the increased display of the female body. Even though hemlines would remain below the knee throughout the 1910s and 1920s, shorter dresses still revealed significant parts of women's legs, and sheer silk stockings displayed ankles and calves in more suggestive ways than did traditional wool stockings. Simultaneously, lower necklines and sleeveless tops also made women's upper bodies more visible, leading one Copenhagen city council member to conclude that the new styles of dress "obviously" did not "have the purpose of warming and protecting the body, but rather the opposite: to reveal as much as possible."

Besides, the fashions also seemed to call attention to the body beneath the clothing in new and disturbing ways. Even those parts of women's bodies that were in fact clothed seemed more exposed and accessible than ever before. As the amount of fashionable female underwear was reduced to brassieres, underpants, and light corsets, the fact that merely a few layers of delicate fabric shrouded the female body only furthered this sense. For other critics, the increased display of the female body seemed less disturbing than the sexually provocative nature of the new styles. While admitting that modern dresses carried the advantage of allowing a woman to dress herself without assistance, the fact that they also made it possible for her to undress "in the twinkling of an eye" was not lost on contemporaries.

According to some alarmists, this might well lead to unchecked promiscuity and even prostitution among young women. Other social conservatives expressed concern that the new styles eliminated the visible differences between respectable and disreputable women, or—in the parlance of the early twentieth century—between "ladies" and "women of the streets." In a public lecture, Copenhagen mayor Ernst Kaper, for example, decried that "the ideals that define the appearance of almost all women have completely blurred the distinction between professional prostitutes and respectable citizens."

"The look," he explained on another occasion, "short hair, lipstick, powder and make-up, the few pieces of clothing, is often the same." Adding to this argument, one newspaper editor noted that it would be most difficult for men to respect a woman when "she faces us in the attire of a whore." These criticisms notwithstanding, the more frequently voiced objections to women's new fashionable styles were of a quite different nature. While some (female) fashion columnists complained that they new styles were plain and unattractive, most men reacted quite differently. 

Although historians, cultural studies scholars, and fashion specialists have often focused on the fact that the new fashions deemphasized womanly curves and removed visual attention from breasts, waists, and hips, arguing that this gave women an androgynous or even boyish look, it was certainly not an impression of juvenile asexuality that struck most Danish men at the time. In their eyes, the modern fashions seemed to endow young women with a new sexual attractiveness, which they flaunted in public and private. As one newspaper reporter noted, "They are everywhere— in the street, at the cafe, on the beach—presenting themselves in their new attire, unabashedly showing off their feminine charms."

Under other circumstances such displays of female beauty and style might have prompted appreciation, but in the second half of the 1910s it was the cause of much male resentment. The new styles, they complained, made women too attractive and too sexy, giving them an unfair edge in the ongoing battle between the sexes. As one journalist grudgingly noted,  "Women are becoming more and more beautiful, and still more seductive under the devilish rule of his majesty King Fashion, and the rest of us are undeniably—only men." The underlying concern about the sexual balance of power helps explain the visceral response to female fashions that dominated much of the popular press in the late 1910s. 

Because many men perceived the modern fashions as posing a more fundamental threat to a sexual order based on male control and initiative and female modesty and passivity, they responded with vehement anger. Some commentators warned that scantily clad women created a dangerously erotic atmosphere, where men aroused by the sight of female bodies would not be able to control themselves. Others claimed that they "did not mind that the ladies are dressed like that, but in return all sections of criminal law pertaining to rape ought to be abolished."

Surely, they argued, women's "undressed [appearances] entail a diminution of male responsibility—they appeal so openly and aggressively to the baser elements in man's nature that it becomes a directly extenuating circumstance if temptation becomes too strong for him." As more and more young women began to adopt the new styles, such criticisms became more and more intense. By the end of the 1910s, a host of journalists and literati, academics and politicians, and ministers and moral reformers publicly denounced the new styles and the women who wore them. 

Yet, exactly at this moment when public opposition was reaching its crescendo, a counter discourse in defense of women's fashions began to emerge. After years of relative silence, fashion advocates threw themselves into the battle over women's dress, and surprisingly quickly they managed to quell much of the opposition. Ironically, it was the efforts of a group of older, reform-minded women to have the infamous garments removed from department store windows that first began to sway many critics from their otherwise adamant stance against the new styles. 

These efforts first came to the attention of the public on November 25, 1919, when Carla Meyer, the charismatic and controversial president of the newly formed Housewives' Organization, published on open letter to department store owners in which she urged them to "halt the window display of half-naked women's costumes." Behind this initiative stood not only Carla Meyer but also members of moral reform groups and many feminists who feared that the new styles would throw into question young women's ability to make sound judgments and thereby potentially damage all women's claims to sexual equality. Jointly, these women had formed the Committee Against the Dissemination of Modem Apparel, which on November 27 published yet another official protest endorsed by twenty-six of its most prominent members. 

Given the "irresponsibility .. . of our big, respected firms," they wrote, they felt compelled to express their objection, since "we cannot tolerate that such harlot's garb be introduced into our country and thus help destroy the sense of decency shared by men and women from all strata of society." Whether the members of the committee had actually expected business owners to comply with their request remains unclear, but they had certainly not anticipated the kind of backlash they would encounter in the wake of their action. Rather than support their efforts, many of the very same reporters and newspaper editors who previously had railed against the new fashions used these older women's action as an opportunity to denigrate and ridicule them.

Obviously preferring fashionable young girls as the embodiment of "liberated" twentieth-century womanhood over more serious-minded—and potentially more threatening—female reformers, Folkets Avis, for example, called their criticism a "comical act" and mockingly suggested that "some people may be entirely relieved to know that the leaders of the Housewives' Organization will not wear any of [the dresses]." The Social Democratic daily, Klokken 5, characterized the incident as "a protest of the old and the ugly, the holy and much too prudish ladies." 

Even the otherwise sober Copenhagen newspaper Politiken joined the chorus. Lashing out at the grammar, intelligence, and appearance of female activists, the paper felt compelled to "call to the attention of the 'cultivated' hyenas that a costume cannot be half-naked; a woman, rather, is capable of that, even without being stupid, as long as she is attractive. On the other hand, it does not require attractiveness to be a competent housewife. It was, however, unknown to us, until the publication [of the protest] that stupidity was a prerequisite." Such tirades placed women struggling to protect and defend older styles of femininity on the defensive. 

By reducing their concerns to issues of sexual jealousy and female competition over men, male journalists managed to challenge both their sincerity and the moral authority to which they, and other older women, laid claim. Faced with ridicule and accusations of dowdy unattractiveness, most of these women quite understandably preferred to withdraw from public controversy, and after their initial bold offensive, few of them ever commented publicly on the issue of fashion again. The 1919 incident had other consequences as well. 

For supporters of the new fashions, the unprecedented attack on older, reform-minded women provided at least an indication of how they might construe an effective argument in favor of the modern styles. By latching on to the critique of female activists as frumpy, prudish, and self-righteous, they might be able to position fashionable young women as their positive contrast and thereby curb the harshest criticisms of their appearances. The media invariably portrayed the women who protested against the display of modern fashions, as dowdy and unattractive old maids. For that reason, fashion advocates quickly embraced the media's portrayal of older female activists as unattractive and unfeminine. 

In the following months and years, they eagerly promoted the increasingly popular stereotype that feminists, female reformers, and educated women in general failed to take interest in their appearances and actually prided themselves in this negligence. "I was once honored with an invitation to spend an evening in the company of .. . brilliant and influential women," one young female journalist thus wrote in the early 1920s. "It would have been an delightful affair," she continued, "if all the ladies had been represented through the radio and had not been present themselves, as they were all to an extreme degree lacking in beauty. And it quickly dawned on me that they were proud of their careless appearance."

In comparison, young women who embraced the new fashions were obviously more feminine in their pursuit of beauty and style, and unlike older female activists who dared to be in the public eye without necessarily striving to be pleasing to look at, they would offer no such challenge to social conventions. To bolster the credibility of this argument and further distance fashionable young women from an older generation bent on women's emancipation, proponents of the new styles supported sharp distinctions between men's and women's clothing. 

They assured critics that equality between the sexes, established with women's suffrage in 1915, rendered the masculine attire—such as jackets and neckties—worn by some older feminists both inappropriate and unnecessary. Sexual difference, they promised, would remain highly encoded in modern fashions. If young women wore clothes that could in any way be deemed inappropriate for their gender, fashion advocates continued, it was for reasons of comfort or practicality only. 

Thus, when an American fashion designer in 1920 introduced a combined housecoat/pajamas, Vore Darner ensured that "it is exceedingly feminine, not the least bit mannish, and it does not appeal to any kind of desire for independence in the young lady who wears it. Rather, the pants . . . are reminiscences from the delicate Oriental women's costumes." From the end of the 1910s, fashion reporting thus concentrated on affirming the gender-appropriate nature of the modern styles. 

Over and over again, in a seemingly endless litany to femininity, every single item of women's clothing from summer hats to walking shoes was characterized as elegant, graceful, charming, delicate, or refined, and the overall fashionable style as womanly and ladylike. Contrasting the appealing femininity of fashionable young women with the allegedly frumpy, unattractive, and occasionally mannish appearance of an older generation proved an effective strategy for advocates of the new styles. 

While placing female critics on the defensive, it simultaneously provided a platform from which fashion enthusiasts were able to respond to male critics who interpreted women's changing appearance as a sign of the erosion of proper womanhood and a challenge to the established gender and sexual order, and within a few years they managed to convince most skeptics that the new styles were not a sign of rebellion or women's efforts to gain control over men. On the contrary, the new styles were, according to fashion advocates, the sign of a renewed and reinforced femininity that admittedly incorporated heightened attractiveness and erotic appeal, but did not endanger female respectability or conventional gender arrangements.

 As a result, the controversies over modern fashions all but disappeared within a couple of years of the 1919 incident. Most contemporaries either lost their determination to battle the new styles, or they became convinced that they posed no real threat. And those who remained concerned about the implications of the new fashions soon had their attention drawn to another change in women's appearance even more disturbing than the modern dresses. In the mid-1920s, growing numbers of women began to discard one of the most cherished icons of femininity—namely, their long hair. After a slight lull in the early 1920s, controversies over women's appearances therefore reached a new peak.”

- Birgitte Soland, “The Emergence of the Modern Look.” in Becoming Modern: Young Women and the Reconstruction of Womanhood in the 1920s