#lockdown hair tips

[spirit-lanterns]

MILLION DOLLAR GIRL

synopsis: kafka wants to add you to her bounty.

featuring: kafka

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, strap on, pet names, sort of enemies to lovers, doggy style, hair pulling, catching feelings, mentions of one night stands, slight degradation, mockery, gro.ping, pretty wholesome even for a smut, not proofread.

art credits: what does the fox say

“For someone so whiny, you sure quiet down once I put some inches in you, hm?”

Kafka chuckles darkly at the sight of you all sprawled out on your bed, pounding away at your cunt with the dark purple strap on tied to her hips. You and Kafka had a complicated relationship, as your father wanted her dead, but you wanted her in your bed. Spewing a love-hate relationship between you two, as you couldn’t help but fall for the Stellaron Hunter’s charms, only to end up bent over your bed with her cock slamming into you.

“You came at the worst— nnngh…time…” you groaned, feeling her hips slap against your ass with the most brutal rhythm you’ve ever felt.

“I come whenever I want, sweet thing,” Kafka says nonchalantly, smacking a hand to your rear to keep you steady for her. “Your father will never catch me, he’ll never think to check his sweet little daughter’s room for a Stellaron Hunter…”

She delivers a particularly sharp thrust to your folds and you automatically collapse to your stomach. The fat tip of her cock pushing so deeply and making you moan with ecstasy. “Mmm, that’s a sound I love to hear,” Kafka chuckles, her deep and husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You never disappoint, princess…”

You roll your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to get back up and prove her wrong. “Why did you even c-come here…it’s too dangerous, the whole ship is on lockdown.”  

“You think I’m afraid of a little risk, dear?” Kafka laughs, angling her hips so she could get you back down on your stomach. “You must not know me that well, then.”

You gasp when she grabs your hips and starts slamming back into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. The thick, girthiness of her shaft proved too much for you to handle as you gripped your bedsheets to muffle your mouth from screaming. 

“Hmmm, that’s no good…” Kafka tuts, reaching a hand over to your scalp with tease. “I want to…hear you!” 

She suddenly yanks you up by the hair and you gasp from the sheer pain and pleasure you felt at that moment. “Oh! Kafka, fuck…!” You whimpered.

“There’s my girl…” she grins, licking her lips and having a grand ole time rutting into you. “Oh, I just wish I could see the look on your old man’s face when he finds out what I’m doing to you.”

She smirks at the thought and looks up at the ceiling with amusement. “To think his sworn enemy; me, was actually fucking his daughter in her bedroom this whole time…” she laughs and starts thrusting her cock even faster at the thought, getting turned on at the idea of ruining you. “What would your father think, dear?”

She looks down at you with a satisfied smile, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you. 

“Mmh…my father will…kill you on the spot…” you groan, your body instinctively moving on its own to meet the thrusts of Kafka’s hips. 

“Yeah, but you won’t let him, will you?” Kafka grins, leaning over to get a little closer to your ear. “You love me too much to do that. So much so that you’re getting drunk on my cock right now…”

Your cunt throbs at her words and you can’t help but whimper at the thought. You knew it was wrong to be sleeping with a Stellaron Hunter that your father so desperately wanted to arrest, but you couldn’t help it. She was just so charming and flirtatious, so much so that after just one meeting on your ship, she had you in your bed and completely stripped of your clothes. Ensuring the beginning of numerous one night stands with the Stellaron Hunter, as Kafka will oftentimes break into the ship just to sleep with you…

And yet, that’s what you thought this was, just another one night stand with Kafka like always. You didn’t think too much of it, but this time it seemed a little different. Kafka was more clingy, more possessive. It was prominent in the way she held you close, wrapping her arms around your torso and pressing sweet kisses to the back of your neck. She was more loving, less lustful. And you were starting to feel the side effects.

“You know, I can’t help but wonder how you feel about all this,” Kafka hums, hugging you from behind while moving her hips at a slower rhythm. “You give in to me so much easier now, perhaps…you’re starting to like me back?” 

You bit your lip and cursed at the fluttery feeling inside your chest. Somehow, you had fallen for the Hunter’s charms and ended up catching feelings throughout your sporadic one night stands. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but the heart wants what the heart wants and you couldn’t bear to say no. 

“…You’ve gone quiet now. Where was all that yap from earlier?” She whispers, tilting your chin up to look back at her. When you continued to stay silent, however; the thought dawned upon her and realization struck. Oh. You did fall for her. To the point where you were too embarrassed to admit your carnal desire for the woman.

“…I see.” Was all she said at your silence, slowly moving closer to hug you more affectionately. “Well, you don’t have to make that decision yet. I’m making it for you.”

“Wha— ah!” You gasped as she began slamming her shaft harder and deeper, guttural groans escaping Kafka’s throat, as she brought you closer to the brink of climax. “I’ve always fancied having you around, sweet girl.” She smirked, gripping her fingers around your breasts and squeezing whilst going to town. “So I figured, enough was enough. I want to have you as my companion.”

Her eyes softened at the way you tensed up in her hold, snaking an arm around your stomach before leaning in to kiss your shoulder.

“You’re probably worth about…what, five million credits? Ten million? Hundred million?” She chuckles as you grip her shaft with need, her movements slowing down as it was clear you were getting close to your high. “Either way, you’re worth more than anything in this galaxy right now.”

Your breath hitched as you tighten around her cock, feeling the ridges rub you closer to your orgasm while Kafka spoke sweet sentences in your ear.

“I’d love to add you to my bounty, rack up the numbers with you by my side,” she sighs at the idea and is left daydreaming about the reaction of your father when he finds out about this. You, his sweet, innocent daughter joining the Stellaron Hunters of all people? He would have a heart attack…

“So, what do you say, my dear?” Kafka hums, shoving her length as far as it could go before feeling you release all over her harness. “Care to join me on my bounty? You’d be worth quite a pretty penny…”

Your breathing was labored, and sweat coated your skin, yet you turned to face her with a knowing smile.

“Do I…hah…have a choice?”

Kafka laughs at your expression before moving down to kiss you. 

“Mm, sorry, you don’t.”

You smiled at that. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

American education has all the downsides of standardization, none of the upsides

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We moved to America in 2015, in time for my kid to start third grade. Now she's a year away from graduating high school (!) and I've had a front-row seat for the US K-12 system in a district rated as one of the best in the country. There were ups and downs, but high school has been a monster.

We're a decade and a half into the "common core" experiment in educational standardization. The majority of the country has now signed up to a standardized and rigid curriculum that treats overworked teachers as untrustworthy slackers who need to be disciplined by measuring their output through standard lessons and evaluations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Core

This system is rigid enough, but it gets even worse at the secondary level, especially when combined with the Advanced Placement (AP) courses, which adds another layer of inflexible benchmarks to the highest-stakes, most anxiety-provoking classes in the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Placement

It is a system singularly lacking in grace. Ironically, this unforgiving system was sold as a way of correcting the injustice at the heart of the US public education system, which funds schools based on local taxation. That means that rich neighborhoods have better funded schools. Rather than equalizing public educational funding, the standardizers promised to ensure the quality of instruction at the worst-funded schools by measuring the educational outcomes with standard tools.

But the joke's on the middle-class families who backed standardized instruction over standardized funding. Their own kids need slack as much as anyone's, and a system that promises to put the nation's kids through the same benchmarks on the same timetable is bad for everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/28/give-me-slack-2/

Undoing this is above my pay-grade. I've already got more causes to crusade on than I have time for. But there is a piece of tantalyzingly low-hanging fruit that is dangling right there, and even though I'm not gonna pick it, I can't get it out of my head, so I figured I'd write about it and hope I can lazyweb it into existence.

The thing is, there's a reason that standardization takes hold in so many domains. Agreeing on a common standard enables collaboration by many entities without any need for explicit agreements or coordination. The existence of the ANSI/SAE J563 standard automobile auxiliary power outlet (AKA "car cigarette lighter") didn't just allow many manufacturers to make replacement lighter plugs. The existence of a standardized receptacle delivering standardized voltage to standardized contacts let all kinds of gadgets be designed to fit in that socket.

Standards crystallize the space of all possible ways of solving a problem into a range of solutions. This inevitably has a downside, because the standardized range might not be optimal for all applications. Think of the EU's requirement for USB-C charger tips on all devices. There's a lot of reasons that manufacturers prefer different charger tips for different gadgets. Some of those reasons are bad (gouging you on replacement chargers), but some are good (unique form-factor, specific smart-charging needs). USB-C is a very flexible standard (indeed, it's so flexible that some people complain that it's not a standard at all!) but there are some applications where the optimal solution is outside its parameters.

And still, I think that the standardization on USB-C is a force for good. I have drawers full of gadgets that need proprietary charger tips, and other drawers full of chargers with proprietary tips, and damned if I can make half of them match up. We've continued our pandemic lockdown tradition of my wife cutting my hair in the back yard, and just tracking the three different charger tips for the three clippers she uses is an ongoing source of frustration. I'd happily trade slightly sub-optimal charging for just being able to plug any of those clippers into the same cable I charge my headphones, phone, tablet and laptop on.

The standardization of American education has produced all the downsides of standardization – a rigid, often suboptimal, one-size-fits-all system – without the benefits. With teachers across America teaching in lockstep, often from the same set texts (especially in the AP courses), there's a massive opportunity for a commons to go with the common core.

For example, the AP English and History classes my kid takes use standard texts that are often centuries old and hard to puzzle out. I watched my kid struggle with texts for learning about "persuasive rhetoric" like 17th century pamphlets that inspired anti-indigenous pogroms with fictional accounts of "Indian atrocities."

It's good for American schoolkids to learn about the use of these blood libels to excuse genocide, but these pamphlets are a slog. Even with glossaries in the textbooks, it's a slow, word-by-word matter to parse these out. I can't imagine anyone learning a single thing about how speech persuades people just by reading that text.

But there's nothing in the standardized curriculum that prevents teachers from adding more texts to the unit. We live in an unfortunate golden age for persuasive texts that inspire terrible deeds – for example, kids could also read core Pizzagate texts and connect the guy who shot up the pizza parlor to the racists who formed a 17th century lynchmob.

But teachers are incredibly time-constrained. For one thing, at least a third of the AP classroom time seems to be taken up with detailed instructions for writing stilted, stylized "essays" for the AP tests (these are terrible writing, but they're easy to grade in a standardized way).

That's where standardization could actually deliver some benefits. If just one teacher could produce some supplemental materials and accompanying curriculum, the existence of standards means that every other teacher could use it. What's more, any adaptations that teachers make to that unit to make them suited to their kids would also work for the other teachers in the USA. And because the instruction is so rigidly standardized, all of these materials could be keyed to metadata that precisely identified the units they belonged to.

The closest thing we have to this are "marketplaces" where teachers can sell each other their supplementary materials. As far as I can tell, the only people making real money from these marketplaces are the grifters who built them and convinced teachers to paywall the instructional materials that could otherwise form a commons.

Like I said, I've got a completely overfull plate, but if I found myself at loose ends, trying to find a project to devote the rest of my life to, I'd be pitching funders on building a national, open access portal to build an educational commons.

It may be a lot to expect teachers to master the intricacies of peer-based co-production tools like Git, but there's already a system like this that K-8 teachers across the country have mastered: Scratch. Scratch is a graphic programming environment for kids, and starting with 2019's Scratch 3.0, the primary way to access it is via an in-browser version that's hosted at scratch.mit.edu.

Scratch's online version is basically a kid- (and teacher-)friendly version of Github. Find a project you like, make a copy in your own workspace, and then mod it to suit your own needs. The system keeps track of the lineage of different projects and makes it easy for Scratch users to find, adapt, and share their own projects. The wild popularity of this system tells us that this model for a managed digital commons for an educational audience is eminently achievable.

So when students are being asked to study the rhythm of text by counting the numbers of words in the sentences of important speeches, they could supplement that very boring exercise by listening to and analyzing contemporary election speeches, or rap lyrics, or viral influencer videos. Different teachers could fork these units to swap in locally appropriate comparitors – and so could students!

Students could be given extra credit for identifying additional materials that slot into existing curricular projects – Tiktok videos, new chart-topping songs, passages from hot YA novels. These, too, could go into the commons.

This would enlist students in developing and thinking critically about their curriculum, whereas today, these activities are often off-limits to students. For example, my kid's math teachers don't hand back their quizzes after they're graded. The teachers only have one set of quizzes per unit, and letting the kids hold onto them would leak an answer-key for the next batch of test-takers.

I can't imagine learning math this way. "You got three questions wrong but I won't let you see them" is no way to help a student focus on the right areas to improve their understanding.

But there's no reason that math teachers in a commons built around the (unfortunately) rigid procession of concepts and testing couldn't generate procedural quizzes, specified with a simple programming language. These tests could even be automatically graded, and produce classroom stats on which concepts the whole class is struggling with. Each quiz would be different, but cover the same ground.

When I help my kid with her homework, we often find disorganized and scattered elements of this system – a teacher might post extensive notes on teaching a specific unit. A publisher might produce a classroom guide that connects a book to specific parts of the common core. But these are scattered across the web, and they aren't keyed to the specific, standard components of common core and AP.

This is a standardized system that is all costs, no benefits. It has no "architecture of participation" that lets teachers, students, parents, practitioners and even commercial publishers collaborate to produce a commons that all may share and improve upon.

In an ideal world, we'd get rid of standardization in education, pay teachers well, give them the additional time they needed to prepare exciting and relevant curriculum, and fund all our schools based on need, not parents' income.

But in the meanwhile, we could be making lemonade of out lemons. If we're going to have standardization, we should at least have the collaboration standards enable.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/16/flexibility-in-the-margins/#a-commons

[avatar-anna]

The Haircut

just a little (long) blurb about the new haircut! part of the young!dadrry universe, which can be found on my masterlist

enjoy!!

“Hey, Mama?”

“Yeah, H?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“So, why did you want me to cut your hair? I thought Jeff asked you about it before we left London.”

Harry tried not to move much because his hair was between Y/n’s fingers as she snipped away. “He did.”

“And you didn’t get it done beforehand because...”

“I like when you do it,” he said simply.

Y/n didn’t bother hiding her blush. During lockdown, she took on the mantle of keeping Harry and the rest of the Styles family groomed. Afterwards, Harry went back to getting his hair styled professionally, but she thought him asking her to do it was sweet.

“Your fans are gonna riot,” she said, running a hand through his hair to find the next strand to trim. “Not to mention your children.”

Harry’s fans weren’t the only ones who loved his longer hair. Each one of their kids, from Simone all the way down to little Natalia, loved their dad’s hair, gripping a piece of it in their tiny fists whenever he held one of them in his arms.

He merely shrugged, as much as he could with Y/n still cutting his hair. “I feel like it puts me in the right mindset for a show.”

Y/n and Harry sat in silence after that; she had a feeling he was enjoying having her full attention, a rare occurrence now that they had six children.

Six. Some days Y/n still had a hard time wrapping her head around it. They started their family when they were so young—just teenagers—and now Simone was ten years old.

But the decision to expand their family wasn’t made until Harry and Y/n were older, after Harry wasn’t in One Direction anymore, and the rules weren’t so strict, and they felt like they were ready to take care of another baby—as ready as anyone can be, anyway.

So then came Collette, and then the twins, Julian and Maeve, shortly after. Y/n was sure that four children was plenty, had told Harry she would go back on birth control again when she found the time. He pouted, but agreed, especially since they were now raising two infants at the same time instead of just one. But then lockdown happened, and Harry was around a whole lot more than he normally was, and Geneva was the result. Their last child, Natalia, also came as a surprise, though no one but Harry and Y/n thought so. But she was the perfect addition to their family, and Harry and Y/n couldn’t have been happier.

“Are you all coming tomorrow night?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

Y/n had moved to face Harry in order to get some of the pieces right at his hairline. “It’s a school night, my love, remember? But we’ll be there Friday.”

Harry nodded, understanding, though Y/n knew he loved when all of his babies watched him perform. Now that Simone and Collette were old enough to be in school, Y/n and the kids couldn’t travel with Harry unless it was during summer or winter break. They’d had lots of discussions about homeschooling so the family could be together more, but ultimately decided their children needed as much of a normal upbringing as possible, and honestly, homeschool would just mean more work for Y/n when she was already juggling so much.

“Can you call the sitter?” he asked.

Frowning a little, Y/n paused what she was doing and tipped her husband’s chin up with a finger. She could sense there was something he was thinking about, but wasn’t saying. “What’s wrong?”

Harry met her gaze, his hair now short and cleared away from his face. Y/n wouldn’t lie, she loved when his hair was on the longer side too, but she did think this haircut suited him as well.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Nothing’s wrong. I just like when you’re there. You missed the entire last leg of the tour. And I know why, but I just miss having you, all of you, around.”

“I know. We miss you too, H,” Y/n sighed, her heart squeezing at the look on her husband’s face.

Harry was quick to pull her into his lap, content to wait before finishing up his haircut. He tipped forward until his nose was pressed against her chest and breathed in deeply, and Y/n held him tightly.

She knew why he was so down without him having to express himself fully. Since Simone was a baby, he always became anxious about leaving for long periods of time, and the next leg of his tour was booked out for the next few months. It was a long time, especially when young kids were involved.

Raising a family while Harry traveled the world wasn’t easy. There were of course the good moments where Harry was able to spend time with Y/n and the kids, using old tactics to sneak around and find someplace private while they spent the day together. And Y/n loved seeing the world too. She loved seeing Harry perform and point him out to Collette or Maeve or Julian as he danced onstage. “That’s your Dadda,” she would say, helping them dance or clap along to the music.

And so things slowly went back to normal, or perhaps better than normal. They were with life at home and learning the delicate balance their family operated on. He loved music and performing, but all of that could wait.

But then of course there were the more difficult moments, where Y/n and the kids had to stay home while Harry toured. There were arguments about missing recitals and games and whether those tacked on extra nights on tour were really worth it when Y/n felt like she was raising their kids by herself. “I had dreams of my own, you know,” she said once. She regretted it immediately, especially when she would never change her life for a moment. But it had to be said. Y/n felt like she was on an island by herself while her husband travelled all over the world on huge tours. And when he was home, he was working on new music. Things were supposed to be different after One Direction. Harry promised that life would be different, but they weren't, and Y/n was going to keep putting up with it.

Harry came home from tour and more harsh words were shared. He tried to convince her that he could fix everything, but she was way past believing in him, and then they were both alone. Harry eventually came home, determined to make things right. He felt like a part of him would always be making up for letting his family down. Y/n tried to tell him that wasn't necessary anymore, especially when she became pregnant again because she wouldn't be having her fifth child with him if she didn't believe in him, but he wouldn’t hear it. “We’re a team,” he’d said. “We’ve always been a team. Letting you down will always be my greatest regret. I’m sorry.”

But things were a little different now. Half their children were older and Natalia wasn’t even walking yet, though all of them needed stability. With just one look at Harry, Y/n knew what was bothering him.

“You’re a great dad, H.”

And since they were as alone as they could be raising six kids, Harry felt comfortable to shake his head against her. Y/n continued to hold him, letting him get out whatever he needed to.

“I—I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own home, my own family.”

There were times where Harry would come home from a long tour stretch and Geneva or Maeve or Julian wouldn’t like to be held by him. Because to them, as infants, he was unfamiliar. It killed Harry, the realization that he’d been gone too long that his own children would cry when he picked them up or look at him without an ounce of recognition. It was why shortly after his first tour as a solo artist he decided to take a break from touring and making music. The fight with Y/n was part of it, but at the end of the day, Harry just wanted to be a dad, and wanted to give Y/n a chance to pursue a career after being a full time stay at home mom for so many years. He had been so used to One Direction’s style of working in the industry, which was to say that you never stopped. But it put a strain on his relationships then, and it was doing the same thing as a new solo artist. He wanted a different life, a different approach to his passion, so he decided to slow down, focus on being a dad and a partner. It was how Y/n eventually went back to school and picked up styling hair.

She saw all of it written on Harry’s face, all the insecurity and fear. Each one plaguing him despite how proud she was of his success as an artist and a father. He didn’t give himself enough credit, not nearly enough. Their family had this life because of him.

“I’ll figure something out,” Y/n promised, kissing his forehead.

Harry shook his head, the ends of his hair tickling her nose. “You don’t have to, Mama. I know school is—”

“Family is important too,” she said, knowing what he had been about to say.

He nodded, but didn’t say anything else.

Y/n kissed him once on the lips before standing up again. School would be out soon, and Geneva and Natalia would be waking up from their naps any minute now. As usual, Y/n would pick up while Harry took care of the little ones, as the knowledge of the Styles family remained a secret all these years. Some people knew, of course. The first time the secret had unintentionally been revealed being when Simone gave a report about her family tree, and her teacher called Y/n in for a meeting to tell her that her daughter believed her dad was a world famous musician. That was quite the parent-teacher conference, but she and Harry handled it. So teachers and administration knew, and NDAs were handed out left and right to protect the children’s privacy, but it was easier for Y/n to pick up the kids from school as opposed to Harry.

“And...There! All done.”

Y/n handed a mirror to Harry so he could inspect her handiwork. She’d seen his hair done enough that she knew what he liked, but she opted for something ever so slightly different, leaving a little more hair on the top so it would curl on his forehead some. She thought it framed his face better than when he pushed it back.

“I look younger,” he said, eyes still on the handheld mirror.

“You look handsome,” Y/n replied. “Or you will once you shave that thing off your lip.”

That definitely got his attention. “Hey.”

“I’m kidding,” Y/n teased. She kissed him on the cheek. “Kind of.”

“Come here,” Harry demanded.

He grabbed ahold of his wife’s waist before kissing her all over. His stubble scratched her neck, her jaw, her cheeks, as Harry moved around, planting loud, opened-mouthed kisses everywhere he could.

Y/n shrieked and giggled, trying to push away from him, but to no avail. “Harry! Ha—”

A cry sounded from the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table. Geneva. Harry and Y/n paused, waiting to see if she would turn over and go back to sleep or if she was truly awake.

Another cry, followed by a different one from another monitor.

“I’ll get Natalia,” Y/n said, and this time Harry let her go.

“GiGi,” Harry replied.

Like a team breaking from a huddle, they went to their daughters’ rooms to bring an end to the crying and met back downstairs to change and feed them. By now, Y/n and Harry were practically a well-oiled machine. They moved around each other to fill bottles and strap the girls into high chairs, and finished with singing‘Itsy Bitsy Spider’ when Geneva showed signs that she was about to cry. It was a system that worked for many years when they were at home together, and one that was perfected during lockdown. Before long, Geneva was sucking on a pouch while Natalia slowly brought yogurt chips to her mouth.

Harry raised his arm up, and Y/n met him halfway for the high five. Distance or no, they always made a good team.

Once the girls were fed, Y/n began getting ready to pick up the rest of their children. Harry kept the girls entertained, but she felt his eyes track her throughout the kitchen. Once she was done, she went over to him and gave him a kiss.

“How about we go to the venue for rehearsal, stay for the opening act and the first couple songs, and then I’ll take the kids home early,” she said against his hair, rubbing a hand up and down his arm.

“Really?”

She kissed his cheek. “I told you I would figure something out.”

Harry grinned down at her. “You always do.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Later that night, the Styles residence was filled with its usual commotion.

“I want Elsa!”

“We watched Frozen last week!”

“Elsa!”

“Mama, can we have chocolate?”

“I want to sit next to Daddy!”

“Move over!”

Harry tipped his head back against the couch and prayed for patience.

He thought a movie would be a fun way to end the night, and while he wasn’t sure why Y/n gave him a look of caution before, he certainly did now. His wife, of course, was upstairs putting Geneva and Natalia to bed while he got the movie set up, though now he guessed Y/n was letting him deal with all the chaos while she hid.

But Harry didn’t particularly care. He loved being home and being part of all the craziness, even the silly fights over what movie they were going to watch.

Julian, the only boy in the Styles family, sat in his father’s lap quietly, almost like he was just waiting for Simone and Maeve to stop fighting over what they were going to watch. His hair was long and curled at the ends, a result of him crying and screaming every time Y/n tried to take him to get his hair cut or do it herself. So they eventually gave up and let Jules grow it out.

“What do you want to watch?” Harry asked his son.

Julian shrugged and curled himself against Harry’s chest. It seemed he was content to just be with his dad, and Harry couldn’t help but agree.

However, when Maeve tried to rip the remote out of Simone’s hands, Harry finally stepped in.

“Alright. Saturday we’ll watch Elsa. Tonight we’ll let Simone pick. Come here, Maeve.”

Maeve was a spitfire like her mother, loud where Jules was quiet. He never imagined a preschooler to be so opinionated, but she always had something to say.

Giving up, Maeve took the spot on Harry’s right. Collette was on his left, tracing the tattoos on his arm absentmindedly. Simone finally settled on a movie, and by some kind of miracle, the house went quiet as the opening credits rolled.

He hadn’t been doing a typical tour recently, which helped him be at home more, but being at home was almost as exhausting as being on the road. He watched the cartoon with Julian on his chest, Maeve and Collette on either side of him, but before long, his eyes began to droop, each blink becoming more prolonged than the last until he didn’t open them again.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Y/n came downstairs once GiGi and Natalia were fast asleep. She had lunches to pack and breast milk to pump before tucking the rest of her little ones into bed, but it wouldn’t take too long.

Half expecting utter chaos, Y/n’s eyes widened at the scene in front of her. Harry was fast asleep, and so was Julian, who rested on top of him, one hand up by his dad’s neck like he was reaching for something that wasn’t there anymore. Maeve dozed beside Harry, and Collette was getting close. Simone was the only one wide awake and watching the movie, her choice by the looks of it.

Y/n went over to her oldest and kissed the top of her dark hair. “How long has everyone been out?”

“Dad lasted about twenty minutes, I think.”

“A record for him,” Y/n mused.

Simone grinned wide. Seeing how long Harry lasted during a movie was something of an ongoing joke between them, and Y/n liked to think her oldest daughter liked that they shared something that was just between the two of them.

“Will you help me get Maeve upstairs?”

Nodding, Simone paused her movie and took her sister into her arms while Y/n grabbed Collette. She took Julian up next, tucking him into his racecar bed before turning on his night light and closing the door. Harry was still out cold when Y/n came back down, but Simone was at his side while she resumed the movie.

By the time the movie ended, Y/n was wrapping up in the kitchen and Harry was stretching his arms after his impromptu nap. Blinking with bleary eyes, he said, “Sorry, bug. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Simone grinned over the top of his head at her mom, who shot her daughter a wink. “That’s okay.”

Harry looked between his two girls like he was missing something, but didn’t comment on it. “Come on. Up to bed then.”

Simone kissed her dad on the cheek, then skipped over to Y/n to do the same to her before going upstairs, leaving Harry and Y/n alone in the dark.

Looking around, Harry realized all of his children had gone to bed at some point. “I swear we have more than one kid.”

“They’re all fast asleep.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well then,” Harry said, his voice low after being asleep. “Might need to take advantage of this rare moment to ourselves.”

Y/n sat herself down on his lap and ran a hand through his short hair. “You know, I can’t help but agree.”

There wasn’t much talking after that. Harry was quick to capture Y/n’s bottom lip between his own, pulling her as close as she could possibly be. Y/n kissed him back, sighing as he brushed his tongue against hers again and again. She kneaded the muscles in his shoulders, gripping hard when a hand dipped beneath the waistband of her jeans.

“Love you,” Harry panted, kissing the spot where her jaw met her ear.

“Love—”

Y/n couldn’t get the words out fast enough before he was on her again, pushing her into the couch until she was spread across it.

They didn’t take it much further than that. Y/n knew Harry was too tired for more, but she didn’t mind. Sometimes kissing and touching took her back to a time when they were younger and only had one baby to look after. It made her realize that even after all these years, they were still crazy for each other.

Eventually tiredness won out, and they went upstairs, though Harry kissed Y/n’s neck the whole way to their room. It stopped, however, when they entered their bedroom and he realized they weren’t alone anymore.

“My money’s on Jules,” Harry said softly.

“Could be Collette,” Y/n countered.

They crept into the room towards the bed, and upon closer inspection, they realized Harry was right. Julian was asleep on Y/n’s side of the bed, his stuffed Mickey Mouse tucked under one arm.

Shrugging, they went about their nightly routines and got into bed. Harry kissed his wife once mumbling, “Love you, Mama,” before setting his head down on the pillow.

When Harry woke up, there were three more children in his bed, one of them on top of him completely. An excellent start to his morning, if you asked him.

[mystargirl-interlude]

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

Sam claflin x fém!reader smut❣️❣️❣️

No use of y/n, oral (male receiving) PnV, unprotected sex, slight handjob??? This is requested! 😘 @jen-parker

hi we are gonna act like I didn’t take over 2 months to make this! I had to go on lockdown cause I almost got canceled on twitter anyway enjoy

Waking up in the morning to an empty bed and the smell of pancakes in the air was definitely a way to start the morning off, getting up and washing up you go in the kitchen to see Sam still in his pajamas cooking breakfast.

“You’re staring” Sam says grinning breaking me out of my thoughts

“sorry I zoned out” you reply smiling as he brings you in for a kiss.

What was supposed to be a short peck turner into 3 pecks turned into a full kiss.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he pulls you in as close as he can get, you can feel his tongue brush against your lips asking for permission which you grant immediately.

Thank god his kids were at summer camp

Your hands go up to his hair tugging slightly making him groan into your mouth, but unfortunately being interrupted by the sound of pancakes burning on the stove

“Shit! dammit!” Swiftly moving the pan over to the other side of the stove to cook off you look down at what use to be the breakfast

“Do you think it’s still edible?” are the first words out of your mouth, looking up at Sam

“I am 99% sure it is not..” he says, swollen lips smiling at you. Realizing he lost your attention he looks at what does and sees that there’s a sun shower outside casting a rainbow through the windows

“Sam, Sam we have to go outside, quick before it’s over!” You say jumping up and down He picks you up throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour taking you outside. Immediately met with the warm sun and cool rain Sam puts you down as you both get soaked in the rain water.

Your pink nightgown begins to stick to your body emphasizing your figure, Sam takes his shirt off once it begins to get wet throwing it off to the side

He picks you up once more placing you onto the pool chair before crawling on top of you.

Coming down to kiss your lips “so” kiss “fucking” kiss “beautiful” he says before fully kissing you knocking the wind out of your lungs

Tongues brushing up against each other you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him in as close as possible, the mixture of the cold rain with warm sun feels like heaven

Thrusting your hips up to grind against his now hard cock a loud whine leaves your swollen lips

“What do you need?” His raspy British tone says while moving his kisses to your neck

“I n-need you inside of me” you say breathlessly

“Well since you asked so nicely..” he says while peeling your nightgown off of you leaving you completely nude underneath him, then proceeding to take his pants off

His fat dick slaps up against his lower stomach making your mouth water

“I want you in my mouth first” you say looking up at him through the rain

You get off of the chair dropping to your knees you quickly grab his cock in your hands spitting on it before slowly jerking it off

You look up at him once more as he lets out a deep sigh of relief

Taking his fat tip in your mouth your eyes roll back slightly at the familiar taste

You moan which sends vibrations through is dick making him moan loudly. Deciding you want more you start taking the rest of his cock in your mouth making his tip hit the back of your throat.

Bobbing your head around his length with spit dripping down onto your breast’s Sam wishes he had his phone of him to capture the moment as you get all the way down to his base, with your nose buried in the short hair

“Fuck, get up I don’t wanna cum yet” he groans out. Standing up your knees are slightly scraped due to the rough concrete, quickly straddling him your lips meet letting him taste himself and a mixture of rain water in your mouth

He lays you down on the chair hovering over you, he grabs his cock and slaps it on your clit rubbing it through your folds, letting out a whine as you wrap your legs around his waist

“Please I can’t wait anymore please please please” letting out words of nonsense at this point Sam finally gives in letting his cock slip through your cunt immediately starting at a fast pace, the sounds of him groaning and skin hitting mix with the sound of rain

“Fuck fuck, your so good” Sam groans into your neck as he pounds into you.

The feeling of the tip of his cock just barely kissing your cervix is ungodly, his hand slips between the both of you rubbing your clit in sync with his thrusts. Pulling your hair back revealing more of your neck he buries his head into in leaving a trail of blood sucking kisses behind.

You’re almost positive you can feel him in your stomach rearranging your guts with how hard he’s pounding into you

“yeah, yeah right there!” You practically scream as you feel him hit that spongy spot

“Found it” he says against your lips

You can feel warmth beginning to spread in your lower stomach the same time as you feel Sam start to twitch in you

“Fuck Sam, sam I’m gonna cum, fuck!” You whine

“Me too baby just let go” he says as he lets out a moan

Clenching hard around him almost completely pushing him out he rubs fast at your swollen clit almost letting out a feminine moan as you gush around him feeling pure white hot pleasure run through your body. Your orgasm almost immediately sets off his as he fills you up to the brim

Sam slows down his pace letting the both of you ride out orgasms letting the rain water cool you both off

“We should do that more often” you say causing the both of you to laugh

See you next time stargirl nation 😘

[katabay]

lmao these are ocs I made wayyyy back in 2021 on a personal blog and I don’t think I ever posted them here, so I’ll do a quick recap!

the guy with the blue hair is marion. he hunts demons! baron is a librarian at a university only because everyone else who was actually qualified for the position died and he really just wants to go home and take a nap.

that’s about it! it was a story I started on because I wanted to draw cool outfits and big monsters after spending a weekend playing DMC5 during the lockdown, but recently it’s been getting some more serious depth as I build up the world.

the original desire to give everyone fun hair colors has remained the same tho, that’s not going to change no matter how serious this story does or does not get

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / tip jar!

[blood-grove]

tws; blood, death, body horror , injuries, gore + bones, canniblism, unhealthy coping mechanisms??, no use of y/n, soap focused, this is like so much more horror ish that the first i think pls be safe

a/n: another thing for shapeshifter reader but child :3 had this scenario in my head this is completely different sort of scenario than from the first shapeshifter

Shapeshifter!Reader but everything that went down that first night went even worse two corpses lay on the floor you didn't mean for it to happen it was the Monster to young to comprehend what you'd fully just done wiping the blood off you as you clawed at your mouth trying to get rid the disgusting taste of iron in your mouth.

But it's been a year since then, A year since you've taste the flesh of another person, A year since you sunk your yellowed teeth into someone's face ripping apart any semblance of identity, And a year since you've been in containment you were found quiet easily after the Police were called to your home that faithful night you were sent a rehabilitation facility then to another one and another.

Switched from place to place because they could tell something was wrong with you but finding out what was hard since every test came back human you had no pointed ears, fangs, or tail.

Another year past and the facility had long shut down a month or two now but you still lived stuck in this room Shapeshifters can be killed of course at a age of what 10? 11? You didn't have many forms and you were still so confused to how your powers exactly worked you never shifted at all despite the itch that had been boiling over.

You had roommates of course in the room to keep yourself social.

They were also stuck when the facility went into lockdown mode abandoning its lower value patients.

You were the only one left in the room now.

The room smelt horrible.

You were horrible.

You didn't want to be.

Licking the flesh from there bones kept off starvation.

The illusion of there still breathing body as you ate at them chewing and crunching till there flesh was no more alone but apart of you.

They had kept you alive when there heart was still beating you couldn't remember what they were.

You forced yourself to forget the taste of your flesh fearing you'd dig in for more.

But you did.

Your a parasite.

"Someone's going to get us.."

"I'm sure."

You shifted as you caressed there skull gently idly picking at the last few remaining strands of hair.

You woke to noises the next day everything still all the same the opening of doors and footsteps a new sense of hope running threw you.

A tail unknowingly sprouted out wagging quickly as you clutched the skull tightly as you got us on shaky legs stepping over rotted pieces of the body you couldn't eat and over to the door stepping up on the tip of your toes to try and see out of the window in the door.

Flinching back one a large shadow over casted the door blocking your view.

Your tail wagging in excitement as you walked back from the door to the spot in the middle of the room you'd become accustom too silently wondering if you should move there bones into there spot next to you but the doors code was unlocked before you could.

A man now stared down at you seemingly shocked at either your appearance, the fact your alive, and or the skull in your hands.

Or all of the above.

Fucking hell.

Fucking hell.

This retcon mission was not at all what he expected.

Sure he expected the usually gathering intel, looking for not trashed files or papers, And or looking for new leads.

It always gave Soap the creeps when they went on missions like these in only a couple of months this facility looked like a shit hole.

Cracked tile, Bugs, old rusting equipment.

The mere thought of people being kept here before the places decay still disgusted him.

So it caught him off guard when he picked up scent unfamiliar but he chose to trust his nose radioing in he'd be moving to the east side.

He reached the holding cells even with the locked doors along the hallway he could smell the decay nearly overwhelming his senses.

With one of the keycards he opened a few of the doors at the rare chance of life.

He was foolish to think this of course, How could anything still be alive after been trapped for months.

Yet here he is staring down a very scraggly, dirty, bloodied kid.

Holding a skull.

A Skull?

He quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts as he shifting in place sliding his weapon back into his holster crouching down.

"Hey there—"

He fully expected you to be timid, nervous, and or scared about the random man unlocking your room that was eventually going to be your grave.

He didn't expected for you to barrel into him skull still in hand hugging his arm.

Now he was downright confused.

"It's uh..It's okay- Hey.."

"I-I know they didn't forget us!-"

You started on rambling about something Soap couldn't comprehend fast enough.

"Hey hey-"

You looked up at him with tired eyes still full of life.

"..I'm gonna get you outta here alright..? Me and my friends didn't expect to find anyone..Are you hurt?"

He gave you a look over lucky he had decent enough vision in the dark no serious wounds maybe just a few cuts that had luckily scabbed over already.

"Are you taking me home..?"

"..I don't know yet..But we'll get you warm and nice and clean how about that..?"

"I don't like baths.."

"Well ya' need one- Its gonna help you feel better.."

You huffed stomping your foot which amused him but you really did need a bath he could barely make out your skin color under all the grime, blood , and dirt.

"Mm..Can ye' walk?"

You nodded as you went back into the room for a moment starting to picking up bones off a corpse he failed to noticed was there.

"Wait wait- Don't touch those."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get sick touching..stuff like that."

"But how else are they supposed to come!"

He grimaced for a bit shifting on his feet as his tail flicked.

"I..Look that was your friend yeah?"

"Mhm!"

"How about..You leave them there..And I'll send some more of my friends to come get them.."

You mulled over the choice for a while looking down to the skull in your hands tracing over a crack before deciding to leave rest of the body tucking it in like a doll before heading back over to the man still holding onto the skull how else re they supposed to see the outside?.

"Whats your name?"

"John..But my friends call me Soap."

"That's a silly name!"

"Hmph..Alright what's your name?"

"[Name]"

"Now that's a silly name-"

"Nuh uh!"

He chuckled as you huffed.

But he quickly regained his composure, He radioed in his little discovery afterwards gently ask you if he could pick you up which you allowed you were scarily light for your age.

He sighed his tail slowly swaying quietly listening as you rambled on about something.

You eventually went still after a few telling yawns, He guessed you must be horrible sleep deprived being next to a corpse couldn't have gave you good rest.

So he just kept quiet as he could still saying vigilant as he updated his position every so often as you slept.

a/n; honestly im feeling so bad at so sorry it started to downgrade at the end i couldn't think clear it starts to fall off so bad cuz head empty </3 might post some old thoughts abt how my ver of shapeshifters work....

[meryxonepitheterasedarc]

What the hell is meryxon and how I even got here + mini character analysis

Btw it's not me trying to pitch the ship or make everyone like it. I'm just explaining to ppl who have no idea wtf is going on.

P.S. English aint my first language so i'm sorry in advance.

Ok. Since I dedicated a whole blog to archiving my art of this two specifically, I think it's fun to explain how it even started and my insides on this ship of two characters FROM LOST MEDIA ROLE PLAY SESSIONS that NEVER MET eachother and only have 1 mention of one another. I'm pretty much playing of hoping that Jello will find it funny and just makes them interact in ee ONCE. I pretty much would happy to have that. This's a mess. Also I don't think that he's a type of author to go that mush on fandoms side but I resigned myself.

I think it might have started when I only started on writing HCD. An ee fangame "Epithet Erased hot crispy dazzling", you can find more abt in on my twt. I decided to replace the Warden's role with Meryl (not literally. She's in lockdown as a prison doctor after being demoted and acts as a boss in hcd) since I found liking to her and thought that her constantly panicking attitude but also an active position in combat (the fact that lamp rolled the biggest initiative led to her starting the combat and also her pulling out her gun when she started panicking) would be fun in prison break scenario. So, I was writing the hcd plot. We know. The ep 3 but in it turned into a freaking nonary game in the end (ep 2 of the game that I'll never make) and this tweet happened:

I was making random ac ship tweets like that for a bit. I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. And then I ended up putting Meryl vs Dixon in hcd, similar to what Ramsey had with Zora, from characters perspective, and with Percy, from morality perspective. So, I wrote hcd draft with all of that and found their dynamic funny. Like this short cop lady bickering with this huge prisoner dude, who has a family record of juveniles and somehow, she's still the one who's likely to harm people directly, even though It's out of fear or paranoia 🤣

Since I won't commit to making separate character analysis, I'll list the things of those two that I found to be funny parallels or coincidences using comments fro original players: Oz and Lamp (source: Epithet Shrine (neocities.org)) Also yeah, we're talking the ac versions of characters since Jello probably would rewrite them in some way in the future: 1)both have anxiety problems and paranoia in some way.

2)both got working not the jobs they initially wanted

3) both keep shit in their hair for some reason 😅

and now, I'm now even fucking joking, I've made 3 scenarios, in that they would possibly have met. 1) The hcd plot.

They've met in prison and responsibilities of keeping Dixon alive got tossed on Meryl by Xerxes, who fucking gaslight them both that they've met in school. 2)that unfinished ee animation of ac ep 4.

They meet in contact room, where Meryl was giving directions to Rick, Noah and Stan and last bliss ocean officer. Dixon refused to give any more tips until we let him participate, so he's here now too. So there 4 scenes with them taking the mic from eachother and giving directly opposite hints.

3) The delusional territory. The fun one.

When they were in their 20's they used to date and Meryl was still in medical school at the time. But when she got too overwhelmed and dropped out and Dixon started to go nuts in conspiracy - they broke up. So their whole dynamic is the same but they're ex-s, so they use their memories of dating to moke eachother. Imagine having a crisis over if you're capable for your profession or not and your boyfriend goes fucking insane.

So, yeah. Here's the full dive into my hyperfixation that i got myself into after making a stupid joke abt a crack ship.

[marmotish]

OK so the line of dialogue turned into a kind of rushed almost-900-word fic….

Never forgive, never forget

(1991 Lockdown of Azkaban)

It took a moment to recognise the prisoner hunched by the hurriedly-closed door. It wasn’t until the woman raised her head - sunken eyes glaring from beneath matted dirty red hair - that Freyja realised who it was. Gone was the proud and arrogant Professor Rakepick, here now was merely a vengeful shell of what that woman had once been.

“Well well well…” a ghost of Rakepick’s old sneer flickered across worn features. “If it isn’t the source of all my problems.”

She began circling the room, eyes locked on her former student - no, her former pawn. Here now, wandless - just like her. And best of all, the scales were definitely tipped in her favour. Her skill and speed in wandless magic far exceeded that of Freyja’s. At that, she straightened her posture slightly, in some semblance of her old stance.

Freyja swallowed hard but remained silent, slowly moving around the interrogation room’s perimeter, maintaining the distance between them. Her heart was beating so hard she swore it could be heard across the room.

“Now I know why I’m hiding in here…” Rakepick began, narrowing her eyes in what looked like amusement . “But why are you? I thought you’d be out there getting yourself into another mess you can’t handle…”

Mad-Eye locked me in here. Getting a student killed or even hurt under his watch wouldn’t be great for his career. He’s mad, not stupid.

Rakepick flexed her fingers. “By the way, I never got the chance to thank you for sending me to this hellhole.”

Freyja managed to push past the lump in her throat and finally spoke. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Oh no?” That old sneer again. “Did you ask the authorities to exercise a little leniency? Let me off with a slap on the wrist?”

“No. I just hoped you’d die in the Sunken Vault.”

Rakepick let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Small mercy that would have been! If I had stayed down there, I would have been swept into Death’s merciful embrace in a matter of days! Days!” She moved a little closer now, her voice dropping to a hiss. “But now, because you had to tell the Professors where you left me, I get to relive my worst memories day after day after week after month, and there’s NO end in sight, you know why?? Because they don’t want you to die here! Oh no! They keep you alive, just strong enough to keep the jailers satisfied! JUST ENOUGH FOOD AND WATER TO MAKE SURE YOU CAN KEEP ON SUPPLYING THOSE FUCKING DEMENTORS WITH ANYTHING RESEMBLING A POSITIVE EMOTION UNTIL YOU’RE DRAINED OF EVERYTHING THAT MAKES YOU A HUMAN BEING!!!”

Freyja was sliding her hand on the wall behind her trying to find the hidden panic panel, trying her best to keep her breathing calm. “Well that makes me feel a little better then. I’d hate to think a traitorous bitch like you got off easy.”

“You should be begging for my forgiveness, you selfish little shit.” Rakepick moved within a few feet of Freyja now, positively snarling at this point. “Whatever wrongs you think I’ve done, I’ve paid for at least a hundred times over. This never-ending sea of torment you’ve doomed me to is more than any human is meant to endure, and damned if you think I’m going to stay here - ”

“Then leave. I’m not stopping you.”

“Oh don’t worry.” Rakepick curled her lip into a mirthless smile. “I fully intend on escaping from this place. And you’re going to help me.”

“You’re even more insane than I thought if you think I’d willingly help you.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything so voluntary.”

Feeling the slightly warmer panel underneath her hand, Freyja pushed down. It didn’t budge. Freyja stubbornly kept her gaze locked onto Rakepick’s crazed, glazed over eyes. The woman was angry and desperate, which made her all the more dangerous. “A hostage? Dementors won’t give a shit about a hostage’s safety if it’s in the way of getting a prisoner back.”

“Actually I was thinking less of a hostage and more… a distraction.”

The panic panel still wasn’t depressing into the wall. Come on, come on! Fuck! Freyja frowned in exertion, hoping it would be mistaken for wondering how Rakepick intended to use her as a distraction. “I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t. But I’ll tell you - those soul-suckers out there are starved. They’ve only been able to feed off whatever remnants of humanity are left in this cesspit of human souls, but you - ” Rakepick stared intently at Freyja. “You are fresh from the outside. You’ve still got plenty of good thoughts and memories in that little head of yours. A veritable feast for any Dementor in here. Think of yourself as my own little living Patronus, Miss Young.”

“I’d much rather think of you rotting in here for the rest of your life.” Freyja said through gritted teeth, thinking finally she may be feeling the panic panel start to budge.

“Save your happy thoughts for the Dementors, sweetheart.” Rakepick moved forward , creating an even more uncomfortable closeness. The acrid smell of body odour wafted up Freyja’s nostrils. “You better hope there’s enough to satisfy the Dementors before you’re left with nothing but your own worst memories. And well, if that happens…. at least it’ll make me happy.”

[queerpossumtrenchcoat]

Let's talk gender expression, awful haircuts and realisation of who I am! I came out as gender fluid approximately around the age of the third picture above- and I got an awful haircut to match it, but at the time I felt like THE gender vibe; I was 13, or so, and didn't realise I looked like I'd had a fistfight with a weed whacker. It was a stepping stone however, for me to discover who I was; after this time I started to experiment with my look, name and pronouns, leaning more towards he/they and slowly changing my name from Jaimee to Jai and or James- small steps, I know, but crucial ones in me realising my dead name no longer really fit me as a person. James was a family name after all. Finding myself wasn't always glamorous, the look wasn't always particularly handsome or pretty, it was colour the tips of my hair with sharpie markers and conditioner until my hair had a distinctly petrol-and-macadamia type stench or cutting it with a cheap, disposable razor which ended up giving me hair reminiscent of the early 2000s emo scene (which I totally was, even if I only saw 6 years of the 'early 2000s!'). I would hack off chunks, flatten my chest with cheap Duct Tape and wear boxers I stole from my dad in order to feel some semblance of who I was, using makeup to poorly build cheek bones and eyebrows so I could look like my hero at the time, Brendon Urie (God, that aged poorly..) In time I got creative, I learned that my parents wouldn't let me get a 'real boy's haircut' so I'd have to improvise; here came the next 6 months of beanie hats and ponytails pulled over to create a 'boy fringe' which, in retrospect, was giving more Justin Beiber than Emo Quartet, but that all chained when I turned 16 and... Got to dye my hair for the first time!! It was the greatest experience for my gender to date!! My mother bought me midnight blue hairdye for my 16th birthday and helped me dye it; I looked in the mirror at my fairly short ish, dark blue hair and I saw it. I saw him, stood staring back at me with tears in his eyes. I saw ME. I told my girlfriend, at the time anyway, straight away and she accepted me with open arms- I think she was expecting the genderfluid-to-trans masc timeline, which funnily enough he followed in 2022 during lockdown. Lockdown dug its claws into my gender and expression quite deeply; while at home with my mother, father and two very young siblings I came to experiment with my gender a lot more, dressing in more masculine clothes and cutting my hair off for 'sake of ease', or that's what I told my parents anyway- they believed it too, surprisingly. I went through college having to somewhat pretend I was just a feminine man, I was exhausted and on the brink of suicide, as most people my age at the time were, and went by Eden because it seemed more palatable to the others around me- didnt stop me being picked on, but it wasn't by students... It was my own teacher! Shout out to Miss Dunsby! Then I dropped out of college. I picked up a shitty little cafe job as a barista and linecook, cooking meals, making coffees, pretending I gave half a shit about a joke I'd heard over and over again; I dyed my hair neon green and used my pay checks to get it cut SHORT short for the first time- I looked hella fine, in my opinion, but I was also starting to realise something.. Maybe I had been right the first time, because I didn't feel like a man all the time. Back to the drawing board... One shaved head and a job at a gay bar later, I started using the art of drag, performing as a female persona, to realise that I was Masc-Agender, like a boyish presenting genderless person. Easy enough, I suppose. I started wearing makeup, being myself and wearing whatever I damn pleased, uncaring of social cues and rules, I was me. I was happy. I AM happy. If there is anything you can take away from this, once you find the part of yourself you can express your feelings, thoughts and emotions with, go wild!! I did and it made realising my truth so much easier!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Underground Empire: Henry Farrell and Abraham Newman's must-read account of "How America Weaponized the World Economy."

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

At the end of Henry Farrell and Abraham Newman's new book Underground Empire, they cite the work of John Lewis Gaddis, "preeminent historian of the Cold War," who dubbed that perilous period "The Long Peace":

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250840554/undergroundempire

Despite several harrowing near-misses, neither of the two hair-trigger, nuclear-tipped arsenals were ever loosed. When the Cold War ended, the world breathed a sigh of relief and set about refashioning itself, braiding together economic and social interdependencies that were supposed to make future war unthinkable. Nations that depend on one another couldn't afford to go to war, because they couldn't hurt the other without hurting themselves.

The standard account of the Cold War's "Long Peace" is that the game theorists who invented Mutually Assured Destruction set up a game where "the only way to win was not to play" (to quote the Matthew Broderick documentary War Games). The interdependency strategy of the post-Cold War, neoliberal, "flat" world was built on the same fundamentals: make war more costly than peace, victory worse than the status quo, and war would be over – if we wanted it.

But Gaddis has a different idea. Any effect Mutually Assured Destruction had on keeping fingers from pushing the buttons was downstream of a much more important factor: independence. For the most part, the US and the USSR had nonintersecting spheres of influence. Each of these spheres was self-sufficient. That meant that they didn't compete with one another for the use of the same resource or territory, and neither could put the other in check by seizing some asset they both relied on. The exceptions to this – proxy wars in Latin America and Southeast Asia – were the disastrous exceptions that proved the rule.

But the past forty years rejected this theory. From Thomas Friedman's "World Is Flat" to Fukyama's "End of History," the modern road to peace is paved with networks whose nodes can be found in every country. These networks – shipping routes, money-clearing systems, supply chains, the internet itself – weave together nearly every nation on Earth into a single web of interdependencies that make war impossible.

War, you may have noticed, has become very, very possible. Even countries with their own McDonald's franchises are willing to take up arms against one another.

That's where Farrell and Newman's book comes in. The two political scientists tell the story of how these global networks were built through accidents of history, mostly by American corporations and/or the American state. The web was built by accident, but the spider at its center was always the USA.

At various junctures since the Cold War, American presidents, spies and military leaders have noticed this web and tugged at it. A tariff here, a sanction there, then an embargo. The NSA turns the internet into a surveillance grid and a weapon of war. The SWIFT system is turned into a way to project American political goals around the world – first by blocking transactions for things the US government disfavors, then to cut off access for people who do business with people who do things that the US wants stopped.

Networks tend to centralization, to hubs. These central points are efficient, but (as we learned during the covid lockdown) brittle. One factory fails and an entire category of goods can no longer be made – anywhere. When it comes to global resiliency, these bottlenecks are are a bug; but when it comes to US foreign policy, these chokepoints are a feature.

Farrell and Newman skillfully weave a tale of individuals, powers, circumstances and forces, showing how the rise and rise of world-is-flat rah-rah globalism created a series of irresistable opportunities for "weaponized interdependence." Some players of the game wield these weapons like a scalpel; others (like Trump) use them like a club.

This is a chronicle of the dawning realization – among US power-players and their foreign adversaries, particularly in China – that the US lured its trading partners into entrusting it with financial clearing, IP enforcement, fiber landings, and other chokepoints, on the grounds that American wouldn't risk the wealth these systems generated by turning them into engines of coercion.

But then, of course, that's exactly what America did, from the War on Terror to economic sanctions on Iran, from seizing Argentinian reserves to freezing Russia's cash. Sometimes, the US did this for reasons that I sympathize with, other times, for reasons I am aghast at. But they did it, and did it, and did it.

America's adversaries (and frenemies, like the EU) have tried to build alternative "underground empires" to offset the risk of having their interdependencies weaponized (or to escape from an ongoing situation). But therein lies a conundrum: world-is-flat-ism has ended the age of indepedence. Countries really do need each other – for energy, materials, and finished goods. Independence is a long way off.

To create new interdependency networks, it's not enough for countries to agree that they don't trust America as neutral maintainer of their strategic chokepoints. They also have to agree to trust one of their own to operate those chokepoints. Lots of countries have come to mistrust US dollar-clearing and the SWIFT system – but few are willing to allow, say, China to run an alternative system that carries out settlements in Renminbi. The EU might be able to suck in some "friendly" countries for a Euro-clearing system, but would China trust them? How about Iran?

Farrell and Newman make a good case that US's position at the center of the web is a historical accident, and possibly a one-off, contingent on the ascendant post-Cold War ideology that said that markets and the interdependencies they create would neutralize the threat of handing a rival nation that much power.

Which leaves us in a world of interdependency in conflict. If Gaddis is right and the Long Peace was the result of independence, then this bodes very ill. The only thing worse than a world where no one can depend on anyone is a world where we must depend on entities that are hostile to us, and vice-versa. That way lies a widening gyre of conflict that felt eerily palpable as world events unfolded while I read this excellent, incisive book.

Political science, done right, has the power to reframe your whole understanding of events around you. Farrell and Newman set out a compelling thesis, defend it well, and tell a fascinating tale. And when they finish, they leave you with a way to make sense of things that seem senseless and terrible. This may not make those things less terrible, but at least they're comprehensible.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/10/weaponized-interdependence/#the-other-swifties

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[stargirldotcom]

You look amazing in your pictures and tiktoks! Do you have any glow up tips??

thank you!!!

this is just what i’ve learnt/done

- find a hairstyle that suits your face. for the longest time i thought shoulder length with a middle part was my look but then i got bangs and grew out my hair and bam. it’s just really suits my face

-if you are an avid coffee drinker like me, then crest teeth whiting strips are your best friend. they’re a little costly but def cheaper then getting them professionally whitened.

-supergoop tinted sunscreen is AMAZING. it makes your skin look dewy and angelic

-lash serum! i’ve been putting it on everyday for a year now and i don’t really use fake lashes anymore

-better then sex mascara and aquaphor make your lashes amazing!! (not together tho)

-aquaphor in general is a god send. that and tinted vaseline for your lips

-find a scent and stick to it

-confidence is key!!! if you believe you are beautiful then you’ll really shine!! i use to hate taking pictures but when lockdown started i began doing at home photoshoots and that boosted my confidence xs 1000. the back camera is still my enemy tho. i love the front camera 🫶

-black is always a staple. everyone looks good in black

-cerave is your best friend

[wawamouse]

Oz Rewatch 3: S4E13: Blizzard of ’01

Storylines

The effects of the aging pills are reversed

There’s a blizzard outside

Gloria is named as co-defendent in the Wicks familys lawsuit against Oz and Weitgart

Suzanne Fitzgerald comes to Oz to try and see Ryan; Cyril beats Howell; Cyril might get transferred to Connelly; Ryan asks Seamus about Suzanne; Gloria tells Ryan she’ll help find Suzanne again

Hughes’s mother visits; he alludes to some plan; he continues to act up in Unit J

Basil and Glynn meet

Busmalis is stood up by Norma at the altar.

Samuel Gougen converts to Catholicism; Mukada and Cloutier beef; Kirk gets Gougen beaten and Cloutier confronts him; Mukada meets with Said and they have an ecumenical service

Carrie comes to visit Schillinger, who tells her Hank is dead; her water breaks

Edward Galson arrives at Oz as Beecher’s new cellmate; Katherine McClaine arrives to help Beecher get paroled; Beecher punches Galson in the dick for being homophobic and gets put in the Cage;

Jackson Vahue struggles in therapy with Sister Pete and seeks harder drugs from Redding; Redding offers him a needle instead; Jackson decides to get clean

Carlton “Tug” Daniels arrives at Oz; tensions rise between the Homeboys and Latinos; Hill begins to have doubts about the violence and after talking to Said, tips off the hacks about war; SORT prevents the violence; lockdown is issued

Giles must choose his method of execution and requests to be stoned to death; Moses meets with his lawyer and senses his time is up and so decides to ask Said to help him find organ donors and meet them

Salah Udeen tells Robson and Hoyt he no longer plans to kill Said; Udeen confesses the plot to Said, who reveals he already knew; Udeen takes an attempt on Said’s life for him; Said blames himself for the death

Sister: Shannon?! …Oh… This his grandma? Oh, it’s his mother, isn’t it? Wait, isn’t his mother dead?

Sister: Yeah, and look what happened. Crack.

Sister: I don’t know…. maybe she shouldn’t work at a desk if she can’t open drawers…. Me: Don’t speak ill of Floria, [SisterFirstName LastName].

Sister: Ever since his relationship went down hill, he’s been searching for a new identity. Is that why he shaved off his mustache? And now I have to look at that?

Sister: That’s what Miranda said in Sex and the City.

Sister: Hm, this is the gay episode. [sips water loudly] I’ve seen this in a manga before.

Sister: He looks like a cult leader.

Sister: Where did this rabbi come from? Me: (squint) you know, he kinda looks like the show creator does now… but that’s probably not what he looked like back then…

Sister: The largest newborn baby I’ve ever seen, slathered in jam.

Nothing really to say about this other than Augustus looks adorable lol

Sister: Once this guy is gone, my angel can finally come out of Solitary on his little poo-wings (flaps hands like little wings)

Sister: He’s so embarrassing. Look at those highlights. Me: Yeah, but remember, this was 2001. That was like peak Asian coolness. [Classmate] had them back in second grade and I was so jealous. I had a crush on him. Sister: Well do you have a crush on this guy? Me: No… Sister: Exactly. ‘Cause he walks like he’s coming to a break dance battle.

Sister: Why… what… Which one of them is on the visitor side for this?

Sister: This guy’s hair is baffling.

Final thoughts:

Sister: That was the end? I didn’t even get to see my poopy little angel. Me: I thought you were the angel. Sister: Yeah, I used up too much of my energy. Now he’s part angel too.

Sister: I saw many butt cheeks. Me: How do you rate the butt cheeks? Sister: Hmm… I think most of them I saw were flabby? Oh no, Said had a firm but (holds up hands as if cupping). And big muscular thighs, whapow! And I think O’Reily’s butt got fatter. It was really flat just a couple episodes ago. Me: It's because of where his pants were. Sister: Ohhh... they were were under there like a push up bra. Me: There was also like… Oh, you said Supreme Allah, but that was just his legs on the hospital bed. Sister: Oooh, yes. He got them strong legs and also those socks where like you can imagine if he wore those vintage dolphin shorts and a little visor. And he’s got his tank top and dreads. Give him a little whistle. Tweet tweet. Camp counselor. Green shorts. He’d look great in green. Supreeeeme Allah. Put him on a poster with those legs (does a pose, hand folded behind head) (starts googling dolphin shorts to show me the exact outfit she has in mind)

Sister: They keep not really showing the Latinos and the Italians on the show. Me: Yeah, they basically only have the Italians have story lines in the first three seasons. Sister: I don’t even know who any of them are. Like there’s the main guy but I don’t know who any of the others are. They could switch ‘em out and I wouldn’t know. Me: They do show the Latinos sometimes throughout the episodes. They were beefing with the Homeboys this episode. Sister: Yeah, but they only have the two main guys and I don’t know who anyone else is. Me: Well they killed the third guy last episode. Miguel killed Jorge Vasquez and that’s why he’s in the Hole…. Although, I did see Jorge in some of the cafeteria scenes this episode… Sister: Time travel...

Stray Thoughts

Dr. Nasca = doctor at Benchley

Seitz = lawyer for Weitgart

As horrible as Howell is, she’s really funny, and she was especially a highlight in this episode, I feel like.

I liked the Said and Mukada moments in this episode. I feel like they have an interesting dynamic—too bad there isn’t more in the show

Only 2 or 3 of the unnamed members of El Norte appeared at the ecumenical service

Penis count: 2

No Miguel this episode 🥲 But at least Chico was present! Up and playing basketball even! Siri, how long does it take to heal after getting stabbed with a kitchen knife?

If we go by Sister’s Glynn logic and the pre-established Beecher facial-hair-by-mood premise, I propose a new theory behind Chico’s clean shaven look in s6: he got dumped lol

[chaotic-super]

The Vampire Woman - 12

Read The Vampire Woman on Ao3 here!

Kara’s eyes follow the shutters as they lower down from the ceiling, big metal things that smack into place with a clunk. They are much sturdier than any that she’s ever seen on a store window, thicker and more durable, noticeably so.

She can’t do anything but stare at them, her body still frozen in place, Lena’s arms holding her securely to her body.

“Are you ok?” Lena questions, her voice soft and tender.

Kara can’t do anything other than just grip onto Lena’s shoulders tighter, her fists clenched around her work shirt tightly, the satin black material soft and comforting beneath her fingertips.

Instinctively, Kara clenches her eyes shut when a piercing noise echoes through the building, a scratching against the metal shutters followed by screams of anguish, something kara has never truly heard before this moment.

It shocks her out of her frozen state and she goes to jump out of Lena’s arms but Lena doesn’t let her, her strong arms wrapped around her too tightly. It takes a second but when Lena realizes what she’s trying to do she sets her on her feet carefully with a murmured “sorry.”

Jess rushes over to them, grabbing them both into a tight hug, pressing them tightly to her as if to make sure they are both ok. “Thank god you made it back alright.”

“It was close,” Lena admits. “Let’s head upstairs and we can talk more, I have a feeling that Kara needs a drink.”

“Or three.” Kara corrects her, finding her tongue. “What in the actual fuck was all of that?”

Lena lowers her head. “Let’s talk about it upstairs.” She turns briefly to the guards scattered around the main foyer where they are. “Make sure the building is secure then patrol the entrances, if any breaches are found then follow protocol: get into a safe room and use your radios to signal for everyone else to do the same, nobody be a hero.”

She receives a bunch of nods and they all scatter, starting their tasks with their hands on their radios, ready in case they need them.

Kara watches them go, curious about how much they know but too shaken by the way they were just chased by a literal hoard of vampires to be concerned about it.

“Please tell me that the elevators still work even in this lockdown?” Kara breathes out, collecting herself slightly, tugging at the hem of her sweatshirt nervously, feeling desperately out of place surrounded by everyone still dressed in their business clothes while she’s in her sweats, the tips of her hair damp where they just touched the water while she was taking a bath not long ago.

“They still work,” Lena confirms. “The lockdown causes the entire building to switch to the backup generators so we always have power, even if the powerlines are cut, not that I think that would actually happen, those vampires are old and feisty but they don’t have a whole lot going on upstairs, if you know what I mean?”

Kara tries to fight back the twitching of her lips, not wanting to smile so soon after they just got attacked but it’s impossible not to when Jess is openly snickering and Lena is looking at her hopefully, waiting for her to crack.

She can’t resist and lets her mouth form into a little smile before heading off to where she knows the elevators are, ready to get as far away from where she knows the other vampires are gathered around the building, she doesn’t know how she knows, she just does. It’s like she can sense it, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and a shiver up her spine that just won’t go away.

Jess and Lena are right beside her, one each side, and they escort her up to Lena’s office where she’s led to the couch and a drink is shoved into her hand, whisky by the taste of it. She doesn’t like it.

“Can I have water instead? This is disgusting.”

“That is a two hundred dollar bottle,” Lena complains but gets her some water anyway.

“Tastes like gasoline and not the good kind.”

Jess snorts but doesn’t comment.

Lena sits opposite her. “I suppose you have a lot of questions.”

“Not as many as you might think, I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on,” Kara answers, sipping her water before placing her glass on the coffee table in front of her, pushing her neglected glass of whiskey further away in disgust as she does so.

Lena nods, “yeah, I guess it is. I’ll still answer any questions you do have though.”

“Ok, well, why are there a whole bunch of vampires suddenly attacking us?” Kara goes with the most obvious question first.

“They’re threatened and they don’t want anyone, namely us, doing anything that could either expose them for what they are, confirm that vampires actually do exist or prevent them from doing what they love – killing.” Lena doesn’t meet Kara’s eyes and Jess is sitting on the edge of the couch beside Kara, looking uncomfortable.

Jess coughs. “They got the information from your notepad and know that you know they exist so the easiest way for them to fix that is to kill you.”

Kara stares down at her glass thoughtfully. “That’s why you reacted the way you did before, isn’t it?” She looks up at Lena. “When I asked you if I could interview you the first time and you grabbed me. You weren’t trying to hurt me, you were scared. You were trying to protect me, not hurt me.”

Lena nods. “I still shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, I’m sorry.”

“But you were scared, weren’t you?”

“I was, and it doesn’t excuse anything.”

“No. It doesn’t.” Kara meets Lena’s eyes as the vampire looks up for the first time since she sat down. “It does explain it though.”

They share a brief smile, one of hesitant trust and mutual understanding, before the lights flicker, turning on and off repeatedly for a series of five seconds at a time for about half a minute.

All three of them stand up, eyes searching around the room and hearts in their mouths, except for Lena, whose already cold blood runs even colder.

“What’s happening?” Jess asks, sounding more frantic than Kara has heard her sound before.

Lena stands firm in front of them. “This shouldn’t be happening, the generators have been working fine up until now and they were only serviced a couple of months ago.”

Jess steps forward, resting a hand on Lena’s shoulder, keeping her touch light. “Lena, what should we do?”

“I think you and Kara should get into a safe room while I go and check out what’s going on with the generator, just in case. I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe.”

“What about the guards?” Kara questions. “Wouldn’t they have radioed if they found something wrong?”

Lena nods. “They would but there’s always the chance that they didn’t get the opportunity to do so. Everything is probably alright but it’s best that I go check it out. The generator probably just needs more juice, let me handle it.”

Kara doesn’t want to be trapped in one of those stupid safe rooms again. She can hardly believe that she believed Lena and Jess when they told her that the one in the lab was just a fire-proof room in case of an emergency. Her reporter instincts should have picked up on that.

“I would prefer an option where we don’t go into one of those ridiculously small rooms with no light.”

“I would prefer the option where I’m sure you won’t get killed by a vampire.” Lena counters, a sleek eyebrow raised in challenge, a challenge she knows Kara isn’t about to win.

Kara doesn’t have it in her to even argue. “That’s good enough for me, where’s the nearest safe room?”

Jess starts moving right away at that, seemingly waiting for the chance to hide. “This way.”

She takes Kara over to a set of shelves on the wall not far from the couch, full of what Kara just assumed were some kind of mega-expensive, very mildly impressive art decorations. Lena grasps one end of the shelves and it swings out on hidden hinges, revealing a door behind it.

“Very clever.” Kara quips.

“Thanks,” Lena mutters, opening the door and urging them to get inside. “Do you want to put the light on your phone before I close the door?”

Kara nods dumbly, doing exactly that before asking, “are you sure you don’t want to get in here with us? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll put the shelves back in place and I’ll knock four times when I’m back. The door requires someone from both the inside and outside to unlock it so that’s how you’ll know it’s me.” Lena directs it more to Jess than to Kara but her point still stands. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Jess says before the door swings shut, leaving her alone with Kara.

They look at each other as soon as they are left in there. “I guess that’s it for a while.” Kara quips.

“I guess so. At least there’s a couch in this one.” Jess walks over to the grey fabric couch that stretches across the width of the tiny room and plops herself down. “We might as well get comfortable because I’m getting the feeling that we’re going to be in here for a while.”

Kara shrugs, and follows Jess’ lead, sitting down beside her and letting out a rushed puff of air, purposely breathing in deeply and measuring out her breaths, intent on making sure she doesn’t panic the way she did before.

-

Lena makes her way through her building, hearing finely tuned in to every sound and eyes adjusting to the light as she makes her way down each floor, sweeping every room and checking every nook and cranny she can find.

The generator is one floor below the first floor so she just has to make it down there, and fix the generator, which shouldn’t be too hard, she was an engineer in her last century, and she has to figure out if there’s another vampire in the building.

If there is then she has to figure out if it got in during the attack or if she’s got a vampire-shaped mole in her building but she very much hopes that that isn’t the case.

She’s getting closer, just one floor above the first floor where all of the guards should be patrolling. All of the safe rooms so far have been empty but that doesn’t mean anything because if the guards ran to them, the closest ones aren’t the ones she checked already.

Lena takes the last step down to the first floor, where they first re-entered the building not long ago. Her ears twitch at the sound of footsteps around the corner from her and she’s acutely aware of the sound of someone on the floor below, somewhere no guards should be patrolling.

Slowing her pace, she rounds the corner as sneakily as she can, sticking to the shadows where nobody will see her. She ducks behind a dark pillar and watches from behind it, cataloguing each guard she sees.

None of them are acting strangely. She can only see a few of them from her position but that makes sense as they are meant to be spread across the floor.

Using her vampiric speed, Lena darts across the room, staying in the darker areas and noting how the lights have not once flickered anywhere down here or on any of the other floors than her own.

She flits around, counting the guards as she makes her rounds and sighs in disappointment when she comes up one short.

With that in mind, she heads downstairs, ready to find out if the person downstairs is a vampire as she fears, or the missing guard.

She takes the stairs quickly, her green eyes searching through the much darker area. When they move onto the generator, the only lights that automatically turn on are the ones for the floors above ground level unless they are manually switched off or in the case of the lower floors, manually switched on. There’s no light on down here and that means that if the guard is down here, they didn’t bother with the light.

Lena’s concentration breaks when a metal clanging ricochets through the air, the sound of something being dropped.

She rushes to the sound, intending to ambush the person.

She grabs them by their shirt, holding them high off the ground, pressing their back to the generator they were standing beside, teeth bared in the low light.

With them held up close to her face, she can make out their terrified expression and their identity: her missing guard.

Carefully, Lena lowers the guard, a woman she knows by the name of Susan Vasquez, down onto the ground and retracts her teeth. “Vasquez, what’re you doing down here?”

“Miss Luthor?” Vasquez stutters out, fear prevalent in her voice. “I was checking the generator, the lights flickered.”

“Why didn’t you turn the lights on?”

“I couldn’t find the switch.”

Lena groans. “Sorry about all of that, you scared me. I thought one had gotten in.” She walks over to the switch just beside the doorway to the stairwell, flicking it on with a single finger. “Better?”

“Much,” Vasquez answers, looking sheepish. “I think I fixed it anyway, one of the wires was coming loose.”

“Good job now let’s head back upstairs, it’s creepy down here. Maybe next time, you can radio up and let us know what’s happening?”

Vasquez nods, suddenly the picture of professionalism. “You got it, boss.”

Lena watches Vasquez go, letting her get upstairs before she double-checks the generator because she doesn’t want to openly critique her work in front of the woman.

Turning to the generator, she takes a good look at it, tugging on the wires to see how easily they come out of it. Not easily at all, these aren’t the kind of wires that just ‘come loose’.

Everything is in place as it should be with the generator but there is something wrong, she can feel it in her ancient bones.

“Show yourself,” Lena states into the room.

There are wires and pillars and pipes all over the place that someone can very easily hide behind and she’s very much getting the feeling that there is someone there.

“I know you’re there.”

A slow clapping comes from behind her.

She turns to see a woman, dressed in all black with pasty white skin that is somehow even paler than Lena’s own, a feat in itself.

“Lillian.”

“So you’re not thinking of me as your mother anymore?”

“That ended centuries ago and we both know it was just for appearances, the same goes for Lex, I bet he doesn’t speak to you now either.” Lena sneers at the woman leaning against a pillar as though there’s nothing wrong with the world.

Lillian huffs. “Lex got a stake to his cold, dead heart almost a decade ago, vampire hunters are rare but not extinct, he got cocky and fell into a trap. It serves him right for being such as asshole.”

“You’ve certainly changed your tune since you used to talk like he had the sun shining out of his ass.”

“And you still have a way with words.”

“Why are you here?” Lena gets the conversation back on track, not in the mood for a trip down memory lane.

Lillian takes a step closer, trying to intimidate Lena with her superior height, not taking into account Lena’s superior feistiness. “I want the girl. She knows too much and the rest of us don’t want to end up like poor old Lex.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, the reporter is reporting on my company, not our species, I need her for my company’s image and you know the vampire code, no messing in the covers of other vampires. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, I do, but we both know that I’m not about to take your word for it either. Even if I did trust you, which obviously I don’t, I don’t trust some pathetic human and I’m not about to put my life in her hands.” Lillian sneers.

Lena actually laughs, one much darker than she’s done in years, decades even. “You hardly have a life, Lillian.”

“Well, I want to protect what little of a life I do have then. Hand over the girl.”

“Over my dead body.”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Lena takes a step further into Lillian’s space, daring the woman to do what she claims she can. “Try me.”

Lillian smiles, all teeth and void of any kind of happiness. “It won’t come to that. The girl’s sister showed up at her apartment after you left. We have her and if you don’t hand her over, her sister dies. How will she feel if you let her family suffer? Will she still want to protect your secret then?”

Outwardly, Lena doesn’t react. Inwardly, she freaks out.

“Get. Out.” Lena snarls.

“You have an hour to think about it, although I am certain that a smart woman like you can come to the right decision.” Lillian speeds away and Lena watches her go, seeing how she got in when she follows her, a window on the second floor that the shutters failed to completely close on, something she should have noticed when she swept the building.

There’s a tiny crack at the bottom that meant that Lillian was able to pry the shutters open. Lena slams it down, locking it securely before heading upstairs.

There’s a very important decision to be made and it’s one that she can’t make alone. Kara is going to be devastated and Lena can’t think of anything she can do to help.

That doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to try though.

Read 5 more chapters early on Patreon here!

[musingsofaleaf]

Kohl oc , Husk, Angel Dust. No pairings. Summary: Kohl is feeling a bit confined to the Hotel. They ask for some lessons in Poker from Husk and Angel Dust joins in. --------------------------------

Poker Lesson Kohl lounged at the bar, back against the edge of the bartop as Husk sorted the bottles. Their mind wandered, bringing the dark stout to their lips. They'd woken from their rough arrival a few weeks previous and had barely ventured further than a few blocks from the hotel. Charlie or Vaggie seemed to want to keep tabs on them as a new resident to the hotel and to Hell. Watching Angel Dust, Alastor and even Nifty come and go without such overbearing concern was frustrating. "Oi, Husk, I'll help ya wash up, if you'll teach me the basics of poker." The cat slapped a bottle down and eyed up the dark-skinned resident. They have a restless look. Like they were itching to do something. " Fuck it. Dry those glasses. Everyone should know how to play poker. What da fuck were ya doing up top?" Shifting behind the bar Kohl grabbed a glass and the rag and began clearing away potential water spots. "Drinking, getting my shit kicked, kicking shite. Mostly playing bloody knuckles or spoons. Maybe Kings Cup if'n the group was up for it." Husk took the dry glasses and lined them up, or placed them under the bar and out of the way. "And ya wanna learn now?" "'Cause I'm bored shitless, and dun wanna lose my shirt like you." A tail swatted at Kohl as Husk's face pulled into a scowl. "Charlie and Vaggie have me on lockdown. I can't fucking go nowhere until they think I can 'take care o' myself.' Seriously, they sic'ed Nifty on me when I tried walking to the store one block away!" Now it was Kohl's turn to scowl, their crystalline and jagged teeth catching the light.

Another dark stout was filled and Husk took a seat, sliding the drink to Kohl. "Ya, How much hair did Nifty take with her?" "Good handful. She likes all the different colors, trying to get a couple stands of each color for her collection. I better off not asking about that aren't I?" Husk took a sip of his own drink and simply tipped his head in affirmation. Angel Dust took a seat and leaned on the bar counter. Husk was quick to offer Angel his usual drink. "What's up Husker~?" "Husk is about to teach me to play poker." Kohl shrugged as Angel looked toward them and back to Husk. "I'm in! Don't worry Kola I'll only take your pants." Angel was teasing, hopefully. Kohl rolled their eyes the effect was lost due to the lack of visible pupil or iris. "It's a learning game. How 'bout a question. The winner can ask me something non-invasive." Kohl suggested holding their stout close, murmuring into the drink as Husk got cards and chips ready. "'sides...what if I win?" "Ain't gonna happen. " Angel laughed swiping a hand through his hair. "But I guess...I'll take ya someplace nice~" "Without Charlie or Vaggie?" "Sure, a great escape. I'll take ya on a wild romp." Kohl smirked, "'course...we'll probably both lose." A thumb jerked to the card-shark kitten, as cards flipped between his paws with ease.

[austinswhitewolf]

Blue Eyes Baby Pt. 14

Part 14 is here all!

Over the next few months, Gabe would find little ways to sneak in calling Austin ‘Short Tips’ in a teasing yet purely loving way. It would always cause a slight blush to form on his cheeks and ears. She would then trail her fingers over them and give him a soft kiss while lacing her fingers in his hair. As the lockdown continued, they found different ways to keep busy, Austin taught her how to make paper roses which she LOVED. She taught him the card game speed which they got very competitive over quite quickly. Though most of their time was spent going over everything Elvis to keep Austin in the needed headspace. When the lockdown was slowly lifting, the set slowly started to open back up. First only small groups at a time to get things back in order. Once things were back to some sort of order, the main cast was brought back on to get into costume and make sure everything was still fitting properly. The first day Austin was allowed back, Gabe had to stay back home.

That morning when he was getting ready to head in, Gabe was making breakfast for him. When he walked out of the bedroom, his hair was still fluffy from sleep and he had on a pair of jeans and a loose sweatshirt. Austin moved over and slid his arms around her waist, leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Morning Dove.” “Good morning Aus. Should be done shortly.” She murmured while turning her head to kiss him in return.

With a nod, he just stood there keeping his arm around her waist, his head on her shoulder. This would be the first day that they wouldn’t be together fully in a good while. So he was going to hold her as long as he could. Once the food was done, she plated it up and with a soft laugh walked to the table to put them down. After putting them down, Austin pulled a chair out, sat down and pulled her down into his lap, keeping his left arm around her. The entire time they ate, a pleasant quiet filled the area. By the time they were done, Austin had to head out to get to set for call time. “I’m going to miss you.” Gabe murmured while giving him a big hug. He buried his head in her neck, taking a deep breath before placing a soft kiss there. “I will miss you as well. But I’m going to keep my phone with me when I can, and on my chair when we are filming. So if you need anything, you can reach me. I promise.” “And I’ll always have mine with me today.” She said with a lopsided grin, getting a soft chuckle from him. “Love you. Stay safe please.” “Love you too Dove. And I will, promise.” He said, kissing her on the lips before grabbing his mask off the counter by the door and headed out. Gabe sighed softly, before cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. Once she was done, she headed back to bed with a book. Once she was settled, she snapped a photo and sent it to him with a small smile. 

It was only a few minutes before she got a photo of Austin with the mask over his face walking across the set.

‘Wish I was curled up with you.’

‘Is there anything you want me to make for you when you get home?’ ‘Anything you want Dove.’

‘If you do think of anything you want, just let me know. <3’

Gabe sent back and then cracked the book open and was soon lost in the words on the page. It was going to be a long day without him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Austin was being very cautious with all the safety standards and never took his mask off unless he was alone. When he had a free moment a few hours later he video called Gabe and waited for her to pick up.

It was only a few rings before her face showed up on his phone. 

“Aus, how are you doing?” “Missing you Dove.” Gabe was in the kitchen, though she was now moving to the balcony. “How is it going?” “It’s quite weird being here with hardly anyone else around. But so far everything still fits correctly. Still have quite a bit to try though.” “Send me some photos please?” Gabe asked with a cheeky smile on her face. “I’ll see if I can sneak any to you.” Austin laughed softly. His heart ached, missing her presence. 

They spent the next twenty minutes on the phone before he had to go back to wardrobe. It was one of those goodbyes that neither wanted to hang up first. As the call finally disconnected, Gabe got back up and moved back into the kitchen. She was making some dairy free cheesecake. She had spent a little while looking around on the internet for something she could make for him with what they had. Something that you wouldn’t normally think would be done dairy free. Finally she put it in the oven to bake and cleaned everything up. 

Gabe got a text notification and when she unlocked her phone, she grinned. She would need to know who to send a thank you to for this photo. It was Austin in the black leather suit with a guitar. She bit her lip and quickly saved the photo to her phone. 

‘Okay, first of all, that is sexy as fuck babe. And second of all, such a tease!’ ‘You wanted a photo, my love. I may just try to take this home when we are all done filming.’

Her jaw dropped and she felt like she couldn’t get a deep breath. Was he serious? Holy shit! 

‘Seriously?’ ‘Yeah, I think Catherine would let me. Just need to talk to her about it.’

‘Okay, that would be sexy as hell babe.’ Gabe laughed at his immediate response. 

‘Yeah? Definitely need to talk to Catherine then.’

‘You do whatever you want babe. If you want to take that home, then ask. If there is something else, ask about that.’  Gabe got up and removed the cheesecake from the oven when it beeped and put it on the island to cool off. 

‘I love you so much Dove. Miss you.’

‘I miss you too Austin. Let me know when you are on your way home.’

‘Will do. I don’t think it should be too much longer.’ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was about 4 when Gabe got a text from Austin that he was on his way home. 

When he did get back, she was on the balcony reading again. He quietly moved through the sliding door and when he reached her, he slid his arms around her shoulders. 

Gabe smiled, setting her book down and resting her hands on his arms. When she turned her head to him, he leaned down and kissed her. “Missed you so much Dove.” “Missed you too Aus. Glad your back.” Austin moved over to the other chair next to her and gently tugged her hand, wanting to hold her in his arms. Gabe got up with a smile and let him guide her to sit down with him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a loving kiss. 

“I think we are going to start doing some small scenes with only a few people at a time.” Austin said once she pulled back. “And you can come, but obviously you will need to stay at a distance. Baz said that you can just sit in my chair if you want, otherwise stay in the trailer.” 

“I would do whatever they need me to do, if it means I can be with you.” Those words made his heart warm. He slid his hand up into her hair and kissed her deeply. 

“I love you so much.” He whispered between kisses. 

“I love you Aus. You’re my other half.” They sat there for a while just taking in the nearness of the other and relaxed. They only got up once Austin’s stomach growled from hunger. “Okay, I’m going to get dinner started.” Gabe said, giving him a kiss with a smile on her face. “What can I do to help?” With that, Austin helped her fix dinner and set the table for them. When they sat down with the food on the table, Austin laced his hand with hers before they both started to eat. 

Gabe smiled and kissed his cheek, taking their empty plates to the sink. She then pulled the cheesecake from the fridge and cut two slices, one for each of them. “Here ya go Aus. I made it dairy free.” She said, setting his piece down and then sitting back down herself. “I don’t remember the last time I had cheesecake. Everywhere I’ve been has only had the normal dairy made kind. Thank you so much.” He said with a loving smile on his face. When he took a bite, his eyes slid shut and he let out a satisfied sigh. “This is really amazing Dove.” Gabe smiled and rubbed his shoulder softly before taking a bit of her own slice. Suffice it to say, the slices didn’t last long before they were totally gone. 

[raggedlyshorn]

you thought i was going to draw other characters? WRONG. Soa' lockdown for @wanderingcrow

[I.D. four drawings featuring Crows oc Soa', a black person with long dredlocks. The first drawing is based off of Christina's World, but the field in the background is on fire and Soa' stands looking down at a person with long brown hair and a blue dress as they melt into water. Soa' is crying. The second image is of Soa' leaning over a table with an anvil on it to kiss Estuary, a blacksmith with bright orange hair that fades to dark brown at the tips, who looks surprised and is in the middle of working with glowing hot metal. The third image Soa' is facing away from the viewer to display the tattoo on their shoulder of an archaeopteryx, which is made up of orange light and is coming off their shoulder to fly in the air. The last image is of Soa' with an arm wrapped around their child who is holding a flower, the background is an image of a flower field. End I.D.]