#now heather mars

[youremyheaven]

Doll Like Beauty: Vedic Astrology Analysis

in the early 2000s, models with a babyface were very popular. throughout the years i've come across many celebs who have very doll like visuals or neotenous features and I thought it would be fun to analyse them through the lens of astrology.

Lets start with the mother of all doll faced models, Miss Gemma Ward herself.

She's Swati Sun with either UBP/Revati Moon with Jupiter in Revati atmakaraka, if she has UBP Moon then its conjunct her Rahu in UBP and you can see the confluence of all these naks and placements on her face.

2. Vlada Roslyakova

She has Punarvasu sun amatyakaraka, Anuradha Moon, Mercury & Venus in Ardra, she also has Saturn in Jyeshta atmakaraka

3. Devon Aoki

she's Ashlesha Sun amatyakaraka, Aswini Moon, Venus in Punarvasu with Mars & Jup in Swati, Saturn in Chitra atmakaraka

4. Miranda Kerr

Aswini Sun, Punarvasu Moon, Mercury in Bharani atmakaraka and Mars in Bharani amatyakaraka and Pushya Rising

5. Lily Cole

She's Ardra Moon with Mercury (atmakaraka) & Venus in Mrigashira and Jupiter in Bharani (amatyakaraka)

6. Jessica Stam

Jessica's features are sharper and less baby-ish but she still looks vv doll like.

She's Aswini Sun, Chitra Moon atmakaraka

7. Heather Marks

She's Rohini Sun, Chitra Moon atmakaraka, Mrigashira Mercury & Venus with Jupiter in Bharani amatyakaraka

8. Gigi Hadid

She's Aswini Sun & Rising, Dhanishta Moon atmakaraka, Saturn in Purva Bhadrapada amatyakaraka

9. Natalia Vodianova

She's Aswini Moon, Mars (amatyakaraka) conjunct Saturn (atmakaraka) in Chitra

10. Sasha Pivovarova

She has Uttarashada Sun/Mercury/Venus, Rohini Moon, Mars in Vishaka atmakaraka and Jupiter in Dhanishta amatyakaraka

Now I'll discuss some non-model folks

11. Sulli

She has UBP Sun, Swati Moon conjunct Jupiter. Mars in Purvabhadrapada atmakaraka

12. Christina Ricci

Dhanishta Sun (atmakaraka), Purva Ashada Moon & Magha Rising

13. Selena Gomez

Pushya Sun & Rising, Aswini Moon, Mercury (atmakaraka) & Venus in Ashlesha, Saturn in Shravana (amatyakaraka)

14. Jennie Kim

Uttara Ashada Sun conjunct Mercury, Vishaka Moon, Saturn in Purvabhadrapada atmakaraka

15. Hedy Lamarr

Vishaka Sun atmakaraka, Pushya Moon & Mrigashira Rising

She has Jupiter in Shravana amatyakaraka

16. Emily Browning

Jyeshta Sun & Mercury (amatyakaraka), Vishaka Moon (atmakaraka)

17. Rihanna

She looks like a Bratz doll come to life. She's Shatabhisha Sun, Revati stellium (Moon, Venus & Rising)

Mercury in Shravana atmakaraka and Venus in Revati amatyakaraka

18. Divya Bharti

She's Shatabhisha Sun conjunct Mercury, Revati Moon atmakaraka, Swati Rising

19. Jayaprada

She's Revati Sun, Purvabhadrapada Moon (atmakaraka) conjunct Mars (amatyakaraka)

20. Gene Tierney

She's Anuradha Sun, Shatabhisha Moon, Rohini Rising, Mercury in Vishaka atmakaraka

21. Vanessa Paradis

She's Mula Sun, Punarvasu Moon conjunct Ketu, Swati Rising

22. Mila Kunis

She's Ashlesha Sun atmakaraka, Swati Moon, Mercury in Purva phalguni amatyakaraka

23. Kim Yoo Jung

She's Uttaraphalguni Sun, Dhanishta Moon atmakaraka with Venus in Ashlesha amatyakaraka

24. Christina Millian

She's Uttaraphalguni Sun, Purva phalguni Moon atmakaraka

25. Eartha Kitt

She's Uttarashada Sun, Punarvasu Moon (atmakaraka) and Mercury in Purvashada (amatyakaraka) and Anuradha Rising

26. Bhanupriya

Sun conjunct Mercury (atmakaraka) in Uttara Ashada, Purvabhadrapada Moon, Mars in Chitra amatyakaraka

27. Ni Ni

She's Ashlesha Sun (amatyakaraka) conjunct Mercury (atmakaraka), Mrigashira Moon

28. Shu Qi

She's Aswini Sun, Vishaka Moon, Mercury in Bharani (amatyakaraka) and Mars in Punarvasu atmakaraka

29. Anna Tsuchiya

She has Purvabhadrapada Sun (amatyakaraka) conjunct Mercury (atmakaraka), Mrigashira Moon

30. Mumtaz

Pushya Sun & Venus, Purva Ashada Moon, Mercury & Rising in Punarvasu, Mars in Mrigashira atmakaraka

In Asian countries and in Asian media, women with more youthful, ingenue features are represented more as that's what's considered beautiful. Therefore you'll see far more examples of Asian celebs who are babyfaced than you will of Western celebs. This does not mean all Asians are babyfaced.

In the West sharper more intense, androgynous features are considered striking and beautiful therefore women with more babyish faces stand out as unique looking.

Anywho, on the basis of my research I've come to understand a certain group of naks are commonly found across women who have doll like visuals (Uttarashada, Dhanishta, Mrigashira, Punarvasu, Vishaka, Purvabhadrapada, Aswini etc) a combination of Mercury and Moon or Jupiter/Saturn influence is what creates the features that lead to a doll like face.

A dollface usually has a small chin, a round/diamond/inverted triangle ish face shape, small nose, large or wide set eyes, pouty lips, a high forehead and high cheekbones and prominent cheek apples. This is a very hyperfeminine appearance. Thus it shouldn't be surprising that many of these natives have Moon conjunctions or Moon as their atmakaraka/amatyakaraka. Another prominent aspect is having atmakaraka/amatyakaraka in Saturn; since Saturn rules over bones, a small compact face with prominent bone structure signifies Saturn's influence.

I am of the opinion that beyond a single nak affecting a native's appearance, its usually a combination of several naks/planetary influences, thus it makes sense to see how Jupiter, which has the tendency to enlarge features give a native pouty lips, large eyes along with Mercury which makes features small, petite and dainty. Large features on a small face creates doll beauty.

I was surprised to see Martian naks (Dhanishta, Mrigashira, Chitra) on here but given its nature, Mars acts very similar to Saturn and creates compact faces with very prominent features; it creates youthful and striking beauty in women. Aswini was also surprising, especially since other Ketu naks weren't evidently present. But since Aswini is the very first nak, it makes sense as to why its natives have babyish faces.

[souperbloom]

strip. [A.I.]

you know i had to do it to em. i know we were all thinking it. ur welcome.

Ashton’s been hard at work on his upcoming album, and you want to let him know you’re still his biggest fan.

a/n: this was lowkey so rushed but idc i needed to get it out of my system.

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, pet names, dirty talk, unprotected sex (yeehaw), biting (???).

WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

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"Ash, food! Come and get it!"

It had been days since you last saw your boyfriend.

Okay, maybe not days. But it had definitely been more than a few hours since the last time since he had actually spoken to you.

Despite time passing, all of your days had been meshing into one; since they all started and ended the same.

Ashton wakes up; eons earlier than you have ever dreamed to. He kisses you on the forehead, stirring you slightly awake from your REM sleep. He then goes downstairs to make himself a coffee, washes the single mug he dirtied and after all’s said and done; he’s off to the home studio for the unforeseeable future.

You would love if he had, just once, let you do all of the things you still adore doing for him. Like making him breakfast, or playing music from your joint Spotify playlist while you tend to the houseplants and he jots lyrics down in his tattered up notebook.

But things have changed since the beginning stages of the album-making process. There were no more laid back days; no more idea bouncing sessions with his mates or trips to Mars on your outdoor patio after sharing a joint or two. It was all just work, work, work.

If you were more honest with yourself, you’d tell him it annoyed you.

But you loved him too damn much to care.

"Ashton! Dinner!"

You try your luck again at shouting to him, but eventually realize that the sound barrier between the kitchen upstairs and the studio downstairs was far too widespread for him to hear you.

With a disgruntled huff, you grab his dinner plate, and trot your way down the stairs into the abyss, as you so lovingly nicknamed it.

"Ash, dinner’s ready," You start your sentence before you round the corner and hop down the last few steps, making sure not to drop the plate of piping hot food. But when you enter the studio, you don’t see your sweet boyfriend hunched over the soundboard with a guitar pick in his mouth as you typically would.

Instead, he was lounging on the couch. The little leather loveseat that the two of you had picked up off the side of the road and got sent out to be cleaned. You figured it’d be a great addition to his workspace, while he was a bit apprehensive at first.

But after a month or two, he started to love his little leather loveseat. He’d use it to take breaks; or, in those rare moments where he’d share the music he’s been working on, it would be your place to sit.

On the couch, Ashton’s body was strewn. With his heather green guitar lazily rested on his hip, he mindlessly plucked a work-in-progress bass line. You swallowed at the sight of him, stopping in your tracks.

"You know, we have a perfectly good couch upstairs for you to be hammering out bass lines on."

Ashton’s eyes lock into yours, his steely face of concentration lifting upon seeing you. Yet, his fingers still slid up and down on the fretboard, as if not to lose his train of thought.

"This is my thinking couch. Can’t get shit done up there with all those windows. Makes me feel like a bat when I’ve been down here all day."

"I think you’re more like a vampire," you chuckle, setting down his food on the table beside him, "But still, it’s fucking lame."

"I admire your eloquence, baby… Lame how?" His eyes had reverted to the neck of his guitar.

"Lame, as in, you’re down here all fucking day and I miss my boyfriend. Sue me for being selfish but, I think my feelings are justified."

Ashton’s lips tug to the side, while his eyes remain glued to his musical progress, "Really? I thought having me down here was a nice little break from all the bangin’ on pots and pans we used to do. I’m workin’ on the real shit now."

"Screw the real shit. I miss you. It’s dumb that you have to be down here all the time."

You toss your hands in the air in faux frustration before planting them on your hips. But his gaze doesn’t waver. He knows you’re standing in front of him yet can’t seem to divert his attention away from whatever he’d been working on.

"Hellooooo…?"

He acknowledges you slightly, like a dog whose ears perk up when you call out its’ name.

"Mhmmm?"

A wry chuckle falls past your lips, "This is ridiculous. Y’know what—"

Out of pure frustration, and with lack of sense to do anything else, you take off your shirt. You weren’t sure of what possessed you to, but it seemed to be the right thing. Ashton’s mossy eyes popped up almost immediately.

You toss your borrowed t-shirt, stolen right from his closet, onto the ground.

"Well, glad I could get your attention," you gaff.

"You’ve always had my attention, baby. Just didn’t wanna lose my place."

A small smirk sprawls across your cheeks as Ashton fully sets down his guitar. It’s now lying horizontally across his lap.

"Don’t you ever get bored down here?" You ask, subconsciously crossing your arms as you remember that you’re now shirtless.

"I won’t lie, I do. And sometimes when I do, eventually, get bored, my mind likes to wander."

His reply is proceeded with a chuckle, one that’s laced with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But his eyes continued a trail down your body, stopping at the waistline of your sweatpants, then back up to you.

"Oh, really? Where does it wander off to? God only knows what you think about when you’re locked away in the abyss."

"If I was a liar, I’d sit here and tell you that I’m only thinking about the shit that’s in front of me. But baby, I’m an honest man; you know exactly what I think about."

"Hm," you hum, challengingly, "Can’t say I do."

Ashton’s arm moves slowly as he leans back and rests his head on his palm. The star tattoo on his bicep flexes beneath the ambient lighting of the studio, and you can’t help but just stare.

"She’s standing right in front of me."

Your face tinges pink at his words, rubbing your arm bashfully as if he was some sort of pickup artist and you were being swept off your feet. It didn’t matter how long it had been since the day you two met, his charm never faltered.

"She’s in here? Right now? Wow, I’m starstruck." You try your hand at jabbing, to ignore the warm buzzing feeling in your stomach.

"Don’t play stupid, baby. You know you’re the only one capable of grabbing my attention like this."

Ashton shifts in his position comfortably. His legs spread a tad bit wider, and the hand not holding his head was now drumming rhythmically against his thigh.

He was taking in the sight of you as if he had never seen you before.

"Really?" You ask a question, already knowing the answer.

"Yup."

"Interesting…"

As your sentence trails, a thought bounces around in your mind for a moment:

Would it be the worst thing in the world to ‘put on a show’ for your boyfriend, who had spent the last six months of his life devoting his time, energy, and soul into an album for the world?

Would it be wrong for you to think about how much you knew he’d enjoy it? How much you’d enjoy it?

As the thought plagues you, rendering you momentarily useless as your stare darts around his dreamy frame, Ashton reads your mind.

"Strip."

"What?" Your mouth hangs slightly at your boyfriend’s bluntness.

"You heard me, baby. I said, strip."

That slack jaw of yours morphs into a wicked smile, wordlessly obliging to his command.

Ashton’s relaxed body sprawled out on the couch guffaws at you, as you hook your thumbs onto the waistband of your sweatpants.

You slowly start to sway your hips, matching up with the rhythm of some imaginary song. The band of your underwear peeks out over the top and once you notice that he had gotten a good look, you swiftly pull your pants back up.

It was called a strip tease for a reason.

Repeating the motions from before, you eventually shimmy out of those sweatpants, and are left solely in a frilly bralette and boy-shorts.

"Pardon the underwear selection," you giggle, "didn’t realize I’d be putting on a show today.

Ashton’s body language had changed slightly; you noticed the bead of sweat that had formed and began rolling down his forehead, merely at the sight of you. He swallows harshly before he replies.

"You could’ve walked out here in a paper bag. Wouldn’t matter a damn’ thing."

Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth at his compliment. He never fails to make you nervous, even after all this time. His eyes alone were one of the most intimidating things about him. You could feel them searing into you as your gaze drops down to your feet, momentarily stopping your motions.

"Finish your show, baby," his words snap you out of your trance, "you wanted my attention, right?…I’m all yours."

As his legs spread wider and his head dips back comfortably to rest onto his palm, the confidence within you fronts again. With a cheeky smile, you reach behind your back, twisting around to show him your hands fiddling with the clasp of your bralette.

You hear rustling from behind you as you eventually free yourself from the fabric, wiggling out of it and letting the strap hang on the tip of your finger. You shoot a glance at him, over your shoulder.

"How’s that?"

He sighs, "Perfect."

With a flick of your hair, you turn back around, fully topless. To raise the stakes, you take it upon yourself to run your hands down the front of your chest and over your breasts. He groans lowly at that motion, grabbing his guitar by the neck and gently resting it at his side.

Now, at the most intimidating part of your show, your hands linger above the band of your underwear. Ashton gazes at you hungrily, slickly moving his hand towards the crotch of his jeans.

It takes everything inside of you not to whine as you notice his hand slowly starting to palm his bulge, held captive by fabric. It catches you off guard, and you freeze yet again.

"Nobody told you to stop."

Almost as if his demands were a form of hypnosis, you resume what you’d started. The band of your underwear hooks effortlessly around your thumbs as you gently tug them down, slightly showing off your bikini line.

His eyes draw in like a magnet, seemingly becoming less and less in control of his senses as you move.

Your underwear pools at your ankles; body completely stripped bare in front of your still, fully clothed, boyfriend. Something about his sultry looks almost felt humiliating, although that wasn’t something you were necessarily upset with.

It still drove you the same amount of crazy.

"Fuck," Ashton mutters, breaking the tense silence that had been lingering over your heads, "you’re a sight to behold, baby."

His hand was still squeezing at the hard-on in his jeans, the notch in his forehead growing increasingly more prominent as he fought to hold back his urges.

Without another word, you traipse over to him slowly; attempting to enchant him with the sway of your hips and the glittering of your skin beneath the studio lights.

"’Been missing you a lot." Your voice holds a certain innocence to it, acting as though you had no clue of the absolute turmoil your actions were subjecting him to.

"I miss you too," Ashton coos, "I bet my girl gets so lonely upstairs without me, doesn’t she?"

A chill runs down your spine as he slowly sits up from his slouched position, and anchors his hands on your waist. He guides your naked body gently onto his lap, letting you straddle him comfortably.

"Mmh, ‘does get lonely without you. Can’t think straight, sometimes."

"Oh, you poor thing… I’m sorry, my sweet girl."

The back of his hand reaches up to caress your cheek, words dripping with tender loving care, before he’s straining his neck to wrap you into a kiss.

The kiss starts off slow; gently nipping at one another and feeling the motions of your lips entwined. But as your hips subconsciously start to grind down into the hardened length in his jeans, something primal washes over you.

Your tongue slips into his mouth without any regard for savoring this moment, heating up the kiss instantly. The grip he has on your waist gets tighter, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh near your hips.

Nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth, Ashton groans, "Can’t wait much longer, baby… Been— been wantin’ to fuck you since you walked down here."

A smirk plays on your face as his neediness overpowers any other emotion present in the room. His mouth wanders down to your neck while he struggles to blindly undo his jeans.

While enjoying the trail of wet kisses inching down to your collarbone, you aim to help him free himself from his pants, fumbling with his fingers and the buttons with a soft giggle.

"Slow down, baby—" your words ring barely above a whisper, "I’m not going anywhere."

Ashton’s head pops up from your clavicle once he finally gets down his zipper, "Better not be."

To your surprise, Ashton was going about this a lot more unhurried than you had anticipated. His words read as frantic, yet his actions felt as though he was savoring each and every feeling of you. You didn’t want to disrupt the already perfect rhythm he had been keeping; so you let him continue on as he wished.

He scoops up your idle hand that had been resting towards the waistline of his jeans and moves it to the pocket of his briefs. Your eyes find his briefly, and a knowing glance is shared.

"Gonna start slow, yea? You okay with that? Wanna savor it… Haven’t been inside you in a while. Missed my girl…"

Swallowing back the excited lump in your throat, you nod, "That’s fine, baby. No— no rush."

Your eyes widen as he guides your hand, freeing his throbbing cock from his underwear. A sigh of bliss tumbles past his lips the moment you wrap your hand around him.

"Lean back, baby… ‘Wanna see—"

Following is command, you lean back, resting your hands just above his knees. You lift up your hips while gazing at him through hooded eyes, waiting for him to adjust.

It’s not long before he’s swiping his tip against your clit, bringing the both of you into a collective, melodic sigh.

Ashton was right; he hadn’t been inside of you in a while. The two of you had been so preoccupied with life that you had barely made enough time for each other. You’d almost forgotten what it felt like until he was guiding himself inside of you.

Expletives and moans immediately begin filling the room as you lower yourself down onto his length fully. His breath hitches, eyes glued down to where your bodies met.

"Fuck, baby… Missed watching this… Missed watchin’ that pretty pussy swallow me whole… Fuckin’— missed you."

With a slack jaw, you start your rhythm of slowly bouncing up and down, the feeling of him filling you up made you complete in more ways than you could fathom. Your walls tightened with each stroke, one more rough than the next.

Each time you lower yourself down to meet his pelvis, he bottoms out, snapping his hips up to meet yours and making you cry out in pleasure. His eyes can’t seem to decide whether or not to watch your face, or his cock disappearing inside of you.

"Ashton, please— Need more… More, please…"

He grunts at your gentle tone, still keeping that slow pace. He had mentioned wanting to savor this moment, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"C’mere," he pants, motioning with his head for you to lean forward. You, of course, oblige, wrapping your arms around his neck with a sigh.

Rather than you doing the work, Ashton had resorted to restarting that pace by snapping his hips up to meet yours. Your name rattles off of his tongue in grumbled mutters as his hold on you tightens, the sounds of skin slapping together engulfing his words and making them inaudible.

You allow him to fuck into you without any complaints, letting your eyes roll back into your head with each upward slam. It was obvious how difficult it was for him to keep his composure.

"Christ, baby," he growls lowly, "drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy."

Another loud moan is released from the back of your throat as Ashton abruptly stops his rambling by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You yelp on impact, yet slowly ease into the sharp pain as he continues to bottom out inside of you.

"Ash, oh my god," you whine, overwhelmed with the sensation of your impending orgasm meshing with the pleasure of the pain.

He grunts beneath you, each thrust rougher than the last— you could tell he was close by the sloppiness of his strokes and his grip on your waist loosening.

His jaw clenches on your shoulder before letting go as he looks your disheveled face in the eye.

"Gonna cum… Gonna’ cum real’ soon… Please, baby… Let me fill you up— gonna’ make you feel so good…"

You nod without a second thought, your bouts of praise turning into incoherent mumbling as your orgasm creeps towards its peak.

"Cum inside me Ash, please… Let me feel you baby— fuck!"

Your body betrays your senses as your orgasm rumbles through you, Ashton following suit shortly after as he releases inside of you with one last buck of his hips. Your bodies collapse onto one another, the sweat and heat igniting a spark between you.

With a gentle comb through your hair, Ashton’s hand traipses down to the back of your neck. You could faintly hear his heart beating through his chest as he holds you, the two of you simultaneously collecting your breathing.

"Thanks for the show, baby," Ashton chuckles, petting your back as you regulate your vitals; his cock still buried deep inside of you.

You can’t help but hum, satisfied with the thought of letting your dirty fantasies dictate your actions.

"If this didn’t prove how much I’ve been missing you," You pop your head up to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "I’m not sure anything will."

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[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: one bed

pairing: jameson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you’re stuck with the cockiest man of all time and you need a place to stay… but things aren’t exactly idealistic

warnings: Jameson being a shameless flirt, you have to pretend you hate jameson… very difficult I KNOW

a/n: enemies to lovers?? Yes. One bed trope?? Yes. Jameson Hawthorne being outrageously hot for no good reason?? Absolutely.

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @stqrsbythepocketful @lxvebelle love you guys 🤍🤍

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” I say as the door swings open.

The room itself was okay, clean, tidy, welcoming but there was one giant problem situated in the middle. There was only one bed.

“I don’t think anyone is kidding this time, princess,” Jameson grins, looking far too happy with himself for your liking.

“Don’t call me that,” I scowl.

“Okay,” he smirks, “…princess.”

I wanted to punch that those pathetic upturned corners of his mouth to Mars but I restrained myself… for now.

“You’re on the floor,” I snap, cocking my head to where he would be sleeping. I was not about to share a bed with him, absolutely not. It was bad enough that I had to spend three days with the guy, I wasn’t about to jeopardise my sleep for him too.

“No I am not,” he yells, looking offended that I’d even suggested it,

“Be a gentleman,” I say mockingly, “sleep on the floor.”

“I’d rather die,” Jameson says flatly, his disgust evident.

“I will find a knife and make it happen,” I hiss, hoping he realises I might actually go through this threat.

His eyes brow fly to his forehead and his eyes widen, “what?”

“What?” I say quickly.

He shakes his head folds his arms and turns to me with a cocky smile, “I’m sleeping in the bed whether you like it or not.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” I reply, kicking his shin, hard.

He lets out a string of colourful words as he crumples to the floor holding his leg. Next time, I make myself a mental note that, I should aim for the groin.

“You are one piece of work,” he winced, standing up again, towering over me, “but you’re my piece of work, so it makes all of this worth it.”

“Your piece of work?” I scoff.

“Oh so you like being mine?” he quips, a grin safely situated on his eager lips.

“Possessiveness makes a man ugly,” I say flatly and bluntly, hoping he might shut his ever moving mouth for just a moment.

“So you thought I was pretty before?” Jameson asks, though it seems to be more of an assumption than a question.

“Shut your mouth,” I snap, viciousness rolling from the tip of tongue, the odd bitter taste still left in my mouth even after it’s closed.

“Can you shut it for me?” he pouts, mockingly, lolling his head to the side, “with a kiss perhaps?”

“In your wildest wet dreams Hawthorne,” I deadpan, my face robbed of all expression.

Silence. Never was there more bliss than this moment of absolute silen-

“I think you want to kiss me.”

His voice is like a never ending ringing in my ears, torturing me to the grave. Leave it to Jameson Hawthorne to ruin the mere seconds of peace I was beginning to enjoy. And his audacity made me want to run through a wall head first. Me? Want to kiss him? Well wouldn’t he be lucky.

“You have fun with that thought,” I sigh, beginning to walk away.

“No really, that’s why you’re so uptight all the time,” he says casually.

Done. I am done with this guy.

“Uptight!” I yell, “uptight! I’m uptight because I’m being forced to spend three days with the most insufferable person on this earth and now I have to share a bed you as well!”

“Breathe princess,” he replies calmly to get under my skin, “the world’s not ending.”

“No,” I laugh bitterly, “the world is not ending but I think I’d much rather face Armageddon than a night with you.”

“Oh c’mmon princess,” he shrugs, “it’s only a night, surely I’m not that bad.”

“You are, undoubtably, you are,” I grit through my teeth, “I’m asking to switch.”

“This is the only room left in this whole place,” he points out.

I knew he was right. I’d been there when the damn owner of the place had given us the last room key and had told us there would be no way to change the room if it was unsatisfactory as there were no more rooms to give. I didn’t think it’d be a problem…until now that is.

“I’d rather sleep outside,” I state.

“Then go, be my guest,” Jameson says, “I’m not the one making a fuss thought now I think I should be.”

I ignore his comment, “Aren’t you rich? Can’t you just pay them?”

“Are you asking me, a man of honourable intention, to bribe innocent people,” he gasps melodramatically, batting his eyelashes.

I think he thinks he’s being funny. I’m not laughing.

“Honourable is a bit too compliments to yourself in you ask me,” I snort.

“Well no one did, so that’s that one sorted,” he smiles, matter-of-factly.

“Oh would you just-“

If he hadn’t interrupted me there I would’ve spouted language that would’ve condemned me to an eternity of hell.

“It’s not that big of a deal anyway and I don’t know why you’re making it one,” he says, “we’re sleeping in a bed for a night… unless…”

“Unless what?” I ask curiously.

I didn’t like the sound of the smile creeping up in his voice. I didn’t like how confided he seemed or his natural relaxed demeanour.

“Unless you don’t want to because you’re afraid you’ll like it,” he says, biting his bottom lip slightly.

Like it? Like it? Just when I thought his head couldn’t get any further up his arse.

I bark out a laugh, “you’re mental.”

“I think I’m actually very smart,” says Mr.BigFatEgo.

“The last thing I’m scared of is liking you, I wouldn’t let my standards drop that low,” I tell him.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night princess, though tonight it might be me that helps you sleep better,” he winks.

I wished to slap him across the face right there and then. So hard, so loud and so painfully that he wouldn’t be able to sleep on that side for weeks, so it would sting for hours one end, so a red mark would stain to damned cheek I left it on. I fantasise even breaking a jaw but I chose to stand still and say nothing and just stare.

“What?” he teases, his voice changing as if he were talking to a small child, “Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m going for a shower,” I retort.

“Feeling saucy?” Jameson smirks.

I don’t bother to reply, too tired of his games and his stupid antics. I need a break, I need a shower and I need a second of quiet. So I turn swiftly on my heel and leave him stood there. I hope the smirk falls from his face.

***

Once the two of us had showered, we both cautiously crawled onto one side of the bed. You’d have thought there was an invisible force field keeping the two of us apart from the way we were sitting. There was no sound now. Not even background TV noise, just air thick with tension. All day I’d longed for silence and now it had finally arrived I wish more than anything for some noise.

“Are we going to sleep?” Jameson asks.

I look at him for the first time since my shower, making direct eye contact. Piercing green irises stare back at me, telling stories of many woods and forests. I’d never really looked at his eyes like this before.

“I don’t like this,” I blurt out, gesturing to the sleeping arrangement.

“Well you’re going to have to live with it aren’t you, princess?” he says, booping my nose.

“Touch my face again and I will bite you,” I threaten, my voice low and dangerous.

“Ooo feeling flirty are we? I could get down on some biting action,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows , “I look forward to it.”

“Are you proud of that one, aren’t you?” I say, my tone as blunt as my will to live at this point.

He doesn’t reply.

“That’s sad,” I hum.

“So are we sleeping or do you want to stay up all night discussing your troubles with me?” he asks turning to look at me.

“Sleeping,” I grumble, laying down with my back towards him.

“Goodnight princess,” he whispers, as he turns off the lamp.

“I hope you die in your sleep,” I murmur back.

He chuckles softly and I hear him roll over. I don’t remember anything after that.

***

When I wake up I’m immediately pissed off. It’s the morning and I still feel groggy and unrefreshed. The mattress feels a little different. I slowly open my eyes that seemed as though they’d been velcroed shut. That’s when I come to a horrible realisation.

I’m on his chest. I am laying on Jameson Hawthorne’s chest. And he has his arms around me. We are CUDDLING. I’m in the same bed, hugging a man I despise more than anyone on this planet. I want to die.

“Couldn’t keep your hands off me could you princess,” says a familiar, aggravating voice.

I scream, jumping away from him quickly. Why the hell were we positioned like that? How could that just have happened? Why did it have to happen? I curse myself for ever agreeing to sleeping in the stupid bed with that.

“Jesus woman it’s 7am, no need to bust my eardrums,” Jameson complains, caressing his ears.

In any normal circumstance is would’ve had a go at him for calling me ‘woman’ like that, but this circumstance was anything but I normal.

“What was that?” I pant, “why were you on me?”

“Actually princess, I think you’ll find it was the other way around,” he says coolly, “you were on me.”

“You did that on purpose,” I spit, my eyes pinned to him, glaring furiously.

“I most certainly did not,” he replies, his voice louder, more dominant, defensive. He looks slightly offended I would even suggest such a thing.

“Yes you did,” I tell him.

But he doesn’t care what I’m saying, his eyes are fixated on my head, “your hair is a little messed up princess,”

I groan, angry and embarrassed and all that’s in between. I comb a hand through the mass of knots, trying to tame them and failing.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he grins, cocking his head to one side.

“Piss off,” I growl, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Hey!” he exclaims, “we were cuddling a second ago.”

“No we weren’t, that never happened,” I say quickly.

“I’m pretty sure it did,” he grins.

“Jameson Hawthorne I swear to everything on this earth if you do not shut your mouth you will be sorry,” I murmur, threat etched in every decibel of my tone.

And he shut it. He actually shut it… for about two seconds

He leans back and the corners of his mouth turn upward, he’s suspiciously amused, “I’ll make you a wager.”

“I don’t want your wager,” I snap.

“Then I won’t shut up,” he shrugs.

“What’s the wager?” I respond almost immediately. Now he knows this is going to get to me he’ll use it against me. And I can’t have that. He can’t have the power.

“Kiss me and I won’t utter a word of what happened in this room to anyone,” he whispers, “not you, not my brothers, no one… our little secret?”

“I sincerely hope you’re joking,” I force a laugh.

“Just one little kiss and it all goes away,” Jameson murmurs, his voice alluring.

“No,” I shake my head. I will not agree, I will not fall down the slippery slope, I will not allow myself to be in this position.

“Okay fine,” he shrugs, smirking, “I suppose everyone shall know about your night spent with the infamous Jameson Hawthorne. Hey, it might make national news-“

I cut him off, pushing my lips onto his. Hard. I close my eyes. He kisses back, intensely, hungrily, passionately. And I can’t seem to stop either. All this anger, all this hate, all this built up fury is finally being let go. I want him to taste my hatred for him, I want him to feel my loathing, to ache when he gets a touch of my aggravation. He doesn’t to hold back and neither do I. His hands are snaking around my waist and mine are buried deep in his hair. I know I need to take a breath but my brain has somehow stopped functioning and all it wants is his lips pressed against my own. I can feel his hands making their way up my back, his touch more tentative than I’d ever imagined. Mine travel down to his next, where I cling to him, my nails digging into the delicate skin. Does he feel the pain? Does he care? If he does he doesn’t show it. His hands are now in my hair, tugging and ripping at every strand. But I don’t care. Because I know that this is his hate for me that I’m feeling and it’s giving me this buzz. This buzz of electrical passion and I don’t know why. He’s so rough with me and yet so gentle. The movement is so powerful and yet when we collide he treats my being like it’s a glass ballerina. Like I might break into a million shards and shatter onto the ground. And suddenly I’m pushing him away, my hands act on their own instinct. We both stand there, the only sound is our panting breaths, as we lock eyes.

“I upheld my end of the bargain, now you uphold yours,” I breathe heavily, my chest heaving up and down.

“You have my word,” Jameson whispers, smiling as he brings a soft and gentle finger to your lips.

a/n: I actually had the most fun writing this and I’m a actually quite proud of it… so hope you guys enjoyed as well. As always, requests are open and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list :) thanks for reading 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[princessmaybank]

JJ MAYBANK PLAYLIST

(This is a playlist made up of songs from all of my playlists that I think JJ would listen to or are simply just JJ coded imo. Songs will be added over time.)

Judas by Lady Gaga

Animals by Nickelback

Harder To Breathe by Letdown

Middle Finger by Bohnes

Energy by Mike's Dead

Throne by Bring Me The Horizon

Goodbye Agony by Black Veil Brides

In The End by Linkin Park

The Kill by Thirty Seconds To Mars

Dance With The Devil by Breaking Benjamin

True Friends by Bring Me The Horizon

A Love Like War by All Time Low

Empire To Ashes by Sleeping With Sirens

Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus

You Put A Spell On Me by Austin Giorgio

Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne

I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don't Wanna Die Anymore by Waterparks

Good Girls by 5 Seconds of Summer

Get Well by Icon For Hire

Agree To Disagree by Sleeping With Sirens

Check Yes, Juliet by We The Kings

Prom Queen by Molly Kate Kestner

Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low

At The Wheel by Colorblind

The Devil Wears Lace by Steven Rodriguez

Another Life by Motionless In White

If I Killed Someone For You by Alec Benjamin

Addict by Don Louis

Save Your Heart by Mayday Parade

Feel Me Now by If Not For Me

Pretty by The Weeknd

Nasty (Extended Version) by Russ

Broadway Girls by Lil Durk ft. Morgan Wallen

Back To Black by Amy Winehouse

Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks

Rest In Peace by Dorothy

Like You Mean It by Steven Rodriguez

Lost In The Waves from Out Of Our Heads

the other girl by Kelsea Ballerini ft. Halsey

Villains Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

Heather by Conan Gray

She Knows It Steven Rodriguez

Jeepers Creepers by Slayloverboy

Way Down We Go by KALEO

LET THE WORLD BURN by Chris Grey

One Man Army by Sleeping With Sirens

Bulletproof by Godsmack

Outrunning Karma by Alec Benjamin

Two Shots by Goody Grace ft. gnash

I Was Made For Lovin' You by YUNGBLUD

Virus by Elijah

more songs loading.....

[venussaidso]

who tf do ketu men frequently date? 🧍🏼

so i decided to check the charts of ex/current partners of some selected well known ketu men.

See, Timothee Chalamat having dated Rahu and Jupiter girls kinda validates my theory of Ketu men going for these planetary archetypes. I also see Moon and Mercury nakshatra women.

He dated Shatabhisha ASC, Vishakha Moon Lourdes Leon. Was with Eiza Gonzalez who has Shravana Sun & a possible Purva Bhadrapada Moon. His iconic pairing with Lily Rose Depp who's Rohini Sun & Swati Moon and Vishakha ASC. And finally Kylie Jenner -- Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon.

Avan Jogia, who is Ashwini Moon, is dating Punarvasu Moon Halsey -- and she also has Hasta Sun AND Swati ASC. He's also dated Zoey Deutch who is a Vishakha Sun. He dated Swati Sun Cleopatra Coleman. He had a thing with Vishakha Moon Miley Cyrus 💀

Ben Barnes, who is Ashwini Moon & Magha Sun, dated Ardra Moon Tamsin Egerton. Then Shatabhisha Moon Felicity Jones. And also Vishakha ASC AND Hasta Moon Julianna Hough.

Possible Magha Moon Robert Sheehan with his long-time girlfriend Revati Sun Sofia Boutella.

Idris Elba's -- who's Magha Moon -- current wife is a Punarvasu Sun AND a Jyestha Moon mwahaha.

Ashwini Moon Benedict Cumberbatch's wife is a Purva Bhadrapada Sun AND Rohini Moon.

Ashwini Moon Michael C. Hall's first wife had Revati Moon, name's Amy Spanger. Then he married Jyestha Sun Jennifer Carpenter who ALSO has Punarvasu Moon and a Hasta ASC.

Ashwini Moon Matt Dillion had dated Vishakha Moon Denise Richards. Also Punarvasu native Cameron Diaz. And I believe his recent partner is Vishakha Moon Roberta Mastromichele. He'd dated Ashlesha ASC, Swati Moon and Shravana Sun Heather Graham.

Magha Moon Paul Wesley was married to Hasta Moon Torrey DeVitto. He was also engaged to Punarvasu native Phoebe Tonkin.

Ashwini Sun Machine Gun Kelly (who also dated Punarvasu native Halsey), was with Ashlesha Moon Megan Fox. Daniel Day Lewis' wife is a Revati Moon. Cilian Murphy, who I also believe to be Ketuvian, is married to a Jyestha Moon woman. Christian Bale's -- who's Ashwini Moon -- wife may have Revati Sun (she may also be Ashwini Sun if she was born past noon).

And Ketu men also go for Ketu women. Justin Trudeau's wife is an Ashwini Sun. Machine Gun Kelly dated Ashwini native Amber Rose.

Ashwini Moon Milo Ventimiglia's wife, Jarah Mariano, is a Jyestha Moon. He's dated Ashwini Moon Alexis Bledel and also Hayden Panettiere who's also an Ashwini Moon with Magha Sun.

Ashwini Moon Boris Kodjoe's wife, Nichole Ari Parker, is a Mula Moon with a Hasta Sun.

Magha Sun Andrew Garfield was with Magha ASC, Swati Sun and Hasta Moon Emma Stone. He also dated Mula Sun Shannon Woodward. He'd been with Ashwini Sun and Vishakha Moon Phoebe Dynevor. Also Ardra Sun Alyssa Miller. He got on with Ashlesha Asc & Purva Bhadrapada Moon Rita Ora too.

Mula Sun, and confirmed Ashwini Moon, Jared Leto, had dated Vishakha Moon Scarlett Johansson. Then Ashley Olsen who is literally a Magha Moon with Ashlesha ASC. He'd been with Punarvasu ASC Cameron Diaz. He was also linked with Ardra Sun Lindsey Lohan. Had an iconic love struck moment with Shatabhisha Sun, Hasta Moon Lupita Nyong'o. I think Valery Kauffman too who's Rohini Sun and Shravana Moon. Reminder that he's a Krittika Asc, he's a Sun nakshatra and my god he's got a running list of hookups I can't deal with right now so Valery is where it ends. It's honestly giving Leonardo DiCaprio lmfao who's also a Sun nakshatra (can't stand solar males💀).

If I stumble on more Ketu men, I'll probably keep editing this post. But there's a pattern here. It's Rahu, Moon, Mercury, Jupiter and Ketu nakshatras that frequently pop up in the women they date. Honorable mentions are Sun and Mars nakshatras. Seriously, I find this fascinating.

[moths-in-the-attic]

Welcome Sailor Scouts, to Crystal Tokyo

AN: SINCE TUMBLR HAS DECIDED THAT I CAN NO LONGER BACK-POST ANYTHING, I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO CONTINUE THIS PROJECT HERE. INSTEAD, PLEASE REFER TO MY BLOGGER AS THAT SEEMS TO BE THE ONLY PLACE I CAN KEEP MY PAST LOGS DONE TO COMPLETION. I'M REALLY BUMMED ABOUT THIS FYI.

Here, I will try to preserve my Sailor Moon Blog for your enjoyment.

In this little corner of the web, I will be archiving some of the Sailor Moon fandom from days gone by (1997-early 00s). Here you will find hilarious old rumors and my own personal fan-fiction that I penned years ago, as well as other's fanfics as well. 

I hope you enjoy what this space has to offer and please check dates for when things were posted. Some of the rumors were products of their time, and since we are no longer in the 00's I ask you to bear that in mind before making any comments.

Be sure to check back often as I am trying to archive as fast as possible and if you are following a certain story, you'll see the updates sooner.

Cheers,

Malta Aino

(Sailor Universe)

Fanfiction Directory:

*Completed

Together Once More by Andre Garde (8)

Christmas Time Blues - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

Deck the Menorah with Rows of Cranberries - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let it Snow - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

Santa's Little Helpers - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

Silver Bells - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

The Fire is So Delightful - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

The Nightmare Before Christmas - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

Winter Wonderland - by Andrea Readwolf and Kate Butler

Angel for Earth - by Angel of Earth (P, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

The Millennium of the Planet Princesses - by Malto Aino (Sailor Universe) (1, 2)

Unfinished Sailor Moon/DBZ Crossover - by Malta Aino (Sailor Universe)

OC Sailor Senshi List

Golden Knight (Jeffrey, Mercury's son, my OC)

Sailor Aqua (Elemental Senshi)

Sailor Bunny (Chibimoon's granddaughter, my best friend's OC)

Sailor Constellation (Josalyn, Saturn's daughter, my OC RETIRED)

Sailor Deimos (my OC)

Sailor Earth

Sailor Eclipse (Becky now Kirstin, Saturn's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Flame (Elemental Senshi)

Sailor Galaxy (Taylor now Tessa, Venus's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Gold (Amy now Heather, Mercury's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Gothic (Pluto's granddaughter, my OC)

Sailor Iceberg (Mercury's granddaughter, my OC)

Sailor M

Sailor Meteor (April now Deirdre, Jupiter's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Millennium (Chibimoon's daughter, my best friend's OC)

Sailor Orbit (ZB then Serenade, Mars's daughter, my OC RETIRED)

Sailor Silver (Crystal, then Annie, then Alika, now Emily, Mercury's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Spirit (Elemental Senshi)

Sailor Taurus (Kitten, Pluto's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Triton (my OC)

Sailor Universe (me, Venus's daughter, my OC)

Sailor Underworld (Saturn's granddaughter, my OC)

Sailor Waterfall (Mercury's granddaughter, my OC)

Sailor Wind (Elemental Senshi)

Solar Flare

Sailor Usako

The Links

www.ainominako.net   

Crescent Moon Crystal Tokyo

Crystal Moon Palace

Dark Echo Grounds of Thunder Senshi

www.eternalmoon.org

www.hamena.org

Hikawa Jinja

Ice Senshi: Lake of Illusion

A wonderful site for everything Sailor Moon archive related: Miss Dream

Mizuno Ami's Corner

www.moonchronicals.com

Neko-chan's Kawaii Anime Page

www.odangoatama.org  

www.outlawstar.org

Sailor Mercury's Ice Domain

The best resource for music to all the Sailor Moon media: SailorMusic 

This wasn't a site I frequented, but I guess it was very important to other people in the fandom: Sailor Orion.

SailorPluto.net

Sailor Pluto's Penthouse

www.sailoruniverse.com

www.sailorv.com

Another great Sailor Moon resource that seems to be for the TV series: Sea of Serenity  

www.selenity.com

www.senshi.net

www.serenitatis.com 

Silver Moonlight 

www.supersailormoon.com

The Beautiful World of Sailor Moon

The Gateway to the Silver Millennium

Troublemakers and All Things Naughty 

www.tuxedomask.com

[emily-mooon]

It’s been about five months since I first came up with the jancy sailor moon au but last night the brainrot hit so now here’s some promised art for it!

Details about the au + tuxedo mask Jonathan with the mask and top hat ⬇️

-time period is the 90s like the manga and the original anime (as that’s when they were made)

-Like Usagi, Nancy is 14 and in her second year of middle school. The difference between the two is Nancy is far more competent and is trying to fit in with everyone else and has what she thinks is a crush on Steve, who goes to a nearby high school (Steve’s in his first year of high school btw)

- Jonathan is in his third year of middle school and is a photographer for the school paper. His reason for finding the legendary silver crystal is to help Will regain his memories after a tragic incident that happened caused by their piece of shit father

- Barb, Eden, Heather, and Chrissy are the other main sailor guardians. Barb is Mercury, Eden is Mars, Heather is Jupiter, and Chrissy is Venus. Robin and Vickie are obviously Uranus and Neptune. Kali and El are Pluto and Saturn respectively. Once again thanking the anon(s) who helped me figure this out back in December cause oh boy was I stuck!

- Fred is Umino for very obvious reasons

Other than all this, plots still the same as normal Sailor Moon. There are obviously still many more things I’m gonna change about the plot and stuff to fit the characters more but for rn, this is good!

Here’s also a link to an ask I answered from a moot that has some other random details for this au if you’re interested

Also here’s the aforementioned Jonathan with the mask and top hat:

Hope y’all like this newish edition to my pile of niche hyper specific aus!

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Twenty-Eight - Prompt: Touches @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 774 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited. He didn’t know why he was so fidgety. It wasn’t as though he’d never picked up a bird before.

When he was with Evan, he felt like a taxi service half the time since he didn’t drive. Not that he minded when it was Evan. Most of those drives ended with Evan’s head in his lap or his hand down Evan’s pants. Only giving him gentle touches to drive him mad.

He shook his head clear and reprimanded himself to focus. This wasn’t the time for his fantasies. Barty stayed up late on the phone to plan this out. Everything was prepared, he just needed to wait and keep his wits about him.

The clock on his dashboard read 10:40, ten minutes late. She’d said to wait at the kerb, exactly like a taxi service attendant. This was beginning to feel like deja vu.

Don’t you dare.

Suddenly, the passenger door flew open and her pale blonde ponytail nearly slapped him in the face as she climbed in. Barty immediately straightened up in his seat and gripped the steering wheel. His heart pounded against his chest as he waited for her to settle in.

“Alright?” he asked, shifting clumsily.

Pandora arched an eyebrow sceptically, then nodded. “You have twenty minutes to explain yourself, Crouch.”

He cleared his throat as he eased Heather into traffic. Twenty minutes to convince the one person who held the key to his happiness in her hands that he wasn’t the horrible person that he had been with Regulus. This was fine.

“Right, so Lily explained the whole—”

“Keep my future wife’s name out of your mouth, if you value your life.”

Barty swallowed hard and tried again. He and Lily had practised this speech three times, he knew it by heart.

“I meant to say…I-I apologise for how awful I was to Regulus, and to you. I let my insecurities overrule my common sense. It was absolute shite and this is not an attempt to excuse it, I swear. I…fucked up, then kept fucking up to cover up the first fuck up.”

So much for memorising the speech.

He snuck a glance at Pandora. She stared out the window and avoided looking at him. Barty wondered if she was even listening, or if she’d only agreed to this because her girlfriend coerced her into it.

“I should have been honest with Regulus. He deserved to hear the truth, instead of my shite attempt to weasel out of it.”

“What is the truth, Barty? Do you even know?” she snapped. “Why did you cheat on Reg?”

“I knew he was breaking up with me, so I gave him a reason.”

Her head snapped to the right as a deep scowl marred her pretty features. “What does that mean?”

“I heard him talking to you on the phone, Pandora. He told you that I wasn’t his type and that he should have known better than to date below his standards.”

Pandora’s eyes widened, then she looked away. “Well, he had a point.”

“He did,” Barty agreed. He forced back the bile rising in his throat and continued. “And you were both complete snobs about it. Which is why I proved him right. It hurt to hear you two ragging on me. I decided that I’d rather be dumped for fucking up than be discarded like a piece of rubbish.”

“Oh, so it’s our fault then?”

“No. I could have walked away, but I didn’t. I thought I was evening the odds and…I was wrong.”

Pandora eyed him narrowly. “You admit that you were in the wrong?”

“Yes,” Barty said, nodding calmly. “I knew that Regulus was struggling with his self-esteem and I used it to my advantage. It was manipulative and self-serving.”

“But you’re all better now?” she retorted.

Barty sighed, pulling off the road to park behind the building. “I’m better when I’m with Evan because we take care of each other. We’re even. I want to be the best version of myself for him, so I try.”

“You try? That’s it?”

“You don’t understand.” Barty turned off the car and turned to face her. He remembered Lily’s advice and breathed deeply to calm himself first.

“I think…I think I might be in love with him, Pandora. He is the most important person in my life and I would do anything for him. Do you understand how terrifying and amazing that is? I’ve never felt like that before and I’m still figuring it out, but I’m trying.”

Pandora’s jaw worked from side to side as she stared him down. He didn’t flinch, or look away this time. Barty held his ground.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Regulus…and Evan.”

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

deAdder

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 26, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 27, 2024

The point that is currently holding up plans for ABC’s September 10 presidential debate is whether the candidates’ microphones will be muted when it is the other’s turn to speak. Vice President Kamala Harris’s team wants the mics “hot”; Trump’s team wants them turned off. Officials on the Harris campaign say they are quite willing for viewers to hear Trump’s outbursts and, in a statement, appeared to bait Trump by saying: “Our understanding is that Trump’s handlers prefer the muted microphone because they don’t think their candidate can act presidential for 90 minutes on his own.”

Over the past few years, observers who have been paying attention to Trump have noted that he appeared to be sliding mentally and warned that when voters saw him again outside his Mar-a-Lago cocoon and his rallies they would be shocked. That prediction appears to have come true. Trump seems to have little interest in doing the actual work of campaigning, instead swinging between grievance-filled rants and flat recitations of his apocalyptic worldview, trying to stay in the center of public consciousness with outrageous lies and, as he did in his suggestion that he would not debate Harris, telling people to “stay tuned!”

But as Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo pointed out today, “nobody cares.” Instead of making him look dominant, his old performance makes him look weak, especially as he appears unable to grapple with Harris’s rise and is still fixated on how “unfair” it was of the Democrats to choose Harris as their presidential candidate. In 2016 and 2020, Trump had the help of talk radio host Rush Limbaugh and the Fox News Channel to push his narrative, but Limbaugh died in 2021 and the Fox News Channel is somewhat chastened after a $787 million settlement over its lies about the 2020 election. Harris and Walz are now setting the terms of debate surrounding the 2024 presidential election, and their dominance illustrates his weakness.

A key element of Trump’s political power was always his insistence that he is by far the nation’s popular choice. In 2016 he insisted that he won the popular vote against Democratic candidate former secretary of state Hillary Clinton—in fact, he lost by almost 3 million votes—and even now, he keeps saying he has all the votes he needs and that he is doing well in the polls, when demonstrably he is not. His constant focus on crowd sizes and enthusiasm is designed to establish the illusion that a majority of people prefer his election to that of his opponents.

By insisting he is the popular choice, Trump has tried to make his election seem inevitable, convincing his loyalists that a loss must be an assault on our democracy and that good Americans will fight to defend both it and him. The Big Lie that he won the 2020 presidential election was intended to cement the idea that the Democrats could win only by cheating. In fact, President Joe Biden won the 2020 presidential election by about 7 million votes and won the Electoral College by 306 to 232, the same split that in 2016, when it was in his favor, Trump called a landslide. Trump and his allies lost more than 60 lawsuits challenging the results of the election. 

And yet, pushing the idea that Trump cannot lose in a fair election seems to have been a key part of his strategy for 2024. The lie that there was widespread voter fraud in 2020 led to a wave of new state laws to suppress the vote. MAGA lawmakers defended these laws on the grounds that they must respond to voter fraud. The nonprofit law and public policy Brennan Center for Justice recorded that in 2021 alone, from January 1 through December 7, at least 19 states passed 34 laws that restricted access to voting.

In May 2024 the Brennan Center reported that in at least 28 states, voters this year will face new restrictions that were not in place in the 2020 presidential election. Varying by state, these laws do things like shorten the time for requesting an absentee ballot, make it a crime to deliver another voter’s mail-in ballot, require proof of citizenship from voters who share the same name as noncitizens, and so on. 

As MAGA Republicans and their plans—especially their assault on reproductive healthcare and the policies outlined in Project 2025—become increasingly unpopular, Republican-dominated states are ramping up their effort to keep the people they assume will oppose them from voting. 

In Nebraska, Alex Burness reported in Bolts today, two Republican officials—Attorney General Mike Hilgers and Secretary of State Bob Evnen— last month stopped the implementation of a new state law, passed overwhelmingly by a Republican-dominated legislature earlier this year, that granted immediate voting rights to about 7,000 people with past felony convictions. In the process, Hilgers also declared unconstitutional a 2005 law that had allowed those convicted of a felony to vote two years after they completed their sentence. Evnen then told county-level elections offices that they could not register former felons.

The confusion has made people nervous about even trying to register. “People are scared they’re going to get charged with something if they try to vote and can’t vote, so a lot of people will just wash their hands of it,” Pamala Pettes told Burness. “They don’t want to go and vote unless they have a clear idea of what’s going on. They don’t have that.” More than 100,000 people are caught in this confusion. As Burness notes, the election could come down to the city of Omaha, where thousands of potential voters—overwhelmingly Black, Latino, and Native—have been blocked from registering.

Voter intimidation is underway in Texas, too. On August 18, Fox News Channel personality Maria Bartiromo, who was a key figure in promoting the Big Lie, posted a rumor that migrants were illegally registering to vote at a government facility west of Fort Worth. The Republican chair and election administrator there said there was no evidence for her accusation and that it was false, but Texas attorney general Ken Paxton nonetheless launched an investigation.  

In addition to feeding the narrative that there is voter fraud at work in Texas, the investigation led Paxton’s team to raid the homes of at least seven Latino Democrats. No one has been charged in the aftermath of the raids. Latino rights advocates call them a “disgraceful and outrageous” attempt to intimidate Latino voters and have filed a formal complaint with the Department of Justice.

Today, Texas governor Greg Abbott announced that since 2021, Texas has removed more than one million people from the state’s voter rolls, and said the process will be ongoing. Abbott’s office said those removed are ineligible to vote because they have moved, are dead, or are not citizens. But more than 463,000 of those on the list have been removed because their county of residence is unaware of their current address. 

Even when voters do make their wishes known, in Republican-dominated states, those wishes are not always honored. David Kurtz of Talking Points Memo today pointed out an article in which Adam Unikowsky, who clerked for the right-wing U.S. Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia, eviscerated a recent decision by the Arkansas Supreme Court that will prevent an abortion rights initiative from appearing on the ballot in November.  

Why is the state supreme court keeping an initiative supported by far more than the 10% of voters required by law off the ballot? Because, Unikowsky writes in Adam’s Legal Newsletter, “when the ballot initiative sponsor submitted its petition on the due date, it failed to staple a photocopy of a document it had already submitted a week earlier. The court reached this conclusion even though (a) nothing in Arkansas law requires this photocopy to be stapled; and (b) even if this requirement existed, Arkansas law is clear that the failure to staple this photocopy is [fixable], and the sponsor immediately [fixed] the asserted defect.”

Unikowsky accuses the court of guaranteeing that a measure the people wanted could not win by making sure it was not on the ballot. Further, although Unikowsky doesn’t mention it, keeping abortion off the ballot will generally help Republicans in the Arkansas elections by keeping those eager to protect reproductive rights feel less urgency to make it to the polls. 

Another way to suppress the vote is showing up these days in Georgia, where MAGA Republicans in the state legislature have handed control of the state election board to a three-member MAGA majority whose members Trump has personally praised. 

The three have been passing a series of last-minute rule changes that will sow confusion over how to conduct an election and then will give Republican-dominated election boards the power to refuse to certify election results. Such a scenario would put into effect the plan Trump and his allies hatched in 2020 to nullify the will of the voters. Tonight the Democratic National Committee and the Democratic Party of Georgia sued to stop Trump’s allies from blocking the certification of the 2024 election. 

The momentum of the Harris-Walz campaign undermines the Big Lie that Trump is the popular choice, but the voter suppression the Big Lie justified remains. That voter suppression recalls the years of Reconstruction in the American South, when southern Democrats determined to keep Black men from voting found all sorts of ways to do so on grounds other than race, which the Fifteenth Amendment prohibited. Modern media allows us to see today’s machinations in real time, making it easier for civil rights lawyers—who were few and far between in the late nineteenth century—to fight back, and for voters to recognize that they are not alone in their struggle to claim their right to a say in their government. 

In her acceptance speech at last week’s Democratic National Convention, Vice President Harris called for the passage of two measures killed by Republicans after 2020: the John Lewis Voting Rights Act and the Freedom to Vote Act. These measures would stop the flow of big money into politics, end partisan gerrymandering, and protect the right to vote.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[emedvs]

Day 7: Free day

(zombie apocalypse au)

In the midst of the chaotic zombie apocalypse, Noah found himself in a group of survivors alongside Owen, Courtney, and, much to his chagrin, Heather. They had all been brought together by the catastrophic events that had unfolded when Chris's plane had exploded, sending them plummeting into the city overrun by the undead. In the chaos, Chris and Chef had been quickly whisked away by a helicopter, leaving the rest to fend for themselves.

Despite their dire circumstances, Owen's concern for Alejandro, or "Al" as he affectionately called him, persisted. He would often inquire about Alejandro's whereabouts, expressing his deep worry for their missing friend. But the others, including Noah, brushed off Owen's inquiries, convinced that Alejandro was lost to the chaos of the city.

Weeks turned into a blur of scavenging for supplies and constantly evading the relentless zombie horde. One fateful day, as Noah cautiously entered an abandoned house, he felt himself suddenly pinned down by a zombie that had crept up from behind. His gun had fallen out of reach, and Noah's heart raced as he closed his eyes, preparing for the inevitable bite.

To his astonishment, the bite never came. Instead, the zombie embraced him tightly, almost squeezing him affectionately. A strange whining sound reached Noah's ears, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was a voice he thought he'd never hear again.

Noah's eyes shot open, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the familiar tone. The zombie's grip loosened, and Noah turned his head to see the undead creature's face. Horror mixed with disbelief as he stared into the eyes of someone he had thought was lost forever—Alejandro.

For a moment, Noah couldn't move, trapped between fear and astonishment. Then, with a mixture of horror and awkwardness, he reached out and ruffled Alejandro's unruly hair, a bizarre attempt at comfort in their absurd reunion.

Amidst the chaos of the zombie-infested world, it seemed that love could transcend even death and reanimate the most unexpected relationships. Noah and Alejandro, once rivals in the Total Drama World Tour, had found each other once again, in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Alejandro, though still resembling his former self, was a horrifying sight. His skin had taken on a sickly yellow-green hue, and his body was marred with protruding bones, gruesome rashes, and cuts that oozed with decay. The stench of death clung to him, making Noah's stomach churn. But despite his ghastly appearance, Alejandro's tear-filled eyes were filled with recognition and longing.

Unable to bear the thought of the others discovering Alejandro in this state, Noah acted quickly. He gently pulled Alejandro to his feet, his touch surprisingly tender for someone facing a zombie. He could feel Alejandro's trembling hand in his, a surreal reminder of the man he had once known.

With a sense of urgency, Noah guided Alejandro through the abandoned house to his secret main base—a hidden room where he stashed his supplies and took refuge when the world outside became too dangerous. The closet in this room became Alejandro's temporary sanctuary.

Noah gently pushed Alejandro into the closet and closed the door, leaving only a small crack to let in air. He could hear Alejandro's soft, mournful whimpers from behind the door, and it tore at his heart. He knew that hiding Alejandro was risky, and that if the others found out, they might see him as a threat and take drastic measures.

As he rejoined the group in their hunt for food and weapons, Noah couldn't help but feel torn. His loyalty to his friends and his unexpected reunion with Alejandro had placed him in an impossible situation. He was now tasked with keeping Alejandro's existence a secret, knowing that the consequences of discovery could be dire.

Noah's mind raced with questions. How had Alejandro survived this long in his current state? Could he be cured? And, most importantly, could love truly conquer the horrors of a world overrun by zombies? Only time would tell, as Noah grappled with the weight of his secret and the uncertain future that lay ahead.

The group returned to their makeshift base, weary and on edge after their scavenging expedition. Noah's heart raced as he tried to act normal, but the sweat on his brow betrayed his anxiety. Alejandro, hidden away in the closet, let out a faint, trembling whimper.

Heather, ever observant and skeptical, slowly turned her gaze toward the closet. Suspicion clouded her expression as she took a step closer, her eyes narrowing. It was then that Alejandro's fear got the best of him, and he let out another soft whimper.

Noah, desperate to divert Heather's attention, quickly stepped in front of the closet, trying to mask his nervousness. He turned to the group, feigning exhaustion from their mission.

"Whew, that was a rough one," Noah said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I'm beat. Anyone find anything good out there?"

Courtney and Owen began to recount their findings, detailing the meager supplies they had managed to scavenge. Their conversation acted as a welcome distraction, but Noah's heart still pounded in his chest.

Heather's suspicion lingered for a moment longer, but she eventually seemed to accept Noah's explanation. She turned her attention back to the others, but her eyes darted back to the closet once more before she joined the discussion.

Noah felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He knew that keeping Alejandro hidden was a risky endeavor, and that their secret couldn't remain hidden forever. But for now, he had managed to avert a potential catastrophe, all while trying to navigate the complexities of a world that had been forever changed by the zombie apocalypse.

In the days that followed, Noah continued to hide Alejandro in the closet whenever the group ventured out into the treacherous city. When they were alone, Noah would cautiously let Alejandro out to feed him and tend to his needs. Alejandro, despite his gruesome appearance, had a certain tenderness about him, and he would gaze at Noah with a deep affection that grew stronger with each passing day.

Unbeknownst to Noah, every act of care and compassion he showed Alejandro only deepened the zombie's feelings for him. Alejandro had been changed by the infection, but his emotions remained intact. He found solace in Noah's presence, even if he couldn't express it in words. Each time Noah looked into those undead eyes, he missed the subtle signs of love that had begun to bloom.

Noah, on the other hand, couldn't see past the horror of Alejandro's condition. To him, Alejandro was a terrifying reminder of the world they now lived in—a world where death lurked around every corner. Despite the care he provided, he couldn't bring himself to see Alejandro as anything other than a threat.

As the days turned into weeks and their secret interactions continued, a silent and unconventional love story unfolded amidst the chaos of the zombie apocalypse. Alejandro's love for Noah grew stronger with each passing moment, while Noah remained oblivious to the affection that had taken root in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Noah's frustration with Alejandro's constant presence grew day by day. Alejandro shadowed him like an eerie, undead puppy, and Noah couldn't escape the overwhelming sense of discomfort that came with it. He couldn't understand why Alejandro clung to him so persistently, especially when his appearance was a constant reminder of the horrors they faced.

Then, one harrowing day, as they were scavenging for supplies in an abandoned store, disaster struck. A zombie lunged at Noah, its rotten teeth inches away from his arm. He froze, unable to react in time, when suddenly Alejandro sprang into action. With astonishing speed, Alejandro sank his teeth into the attacking zombie's neck, tearing it away from Noah and tossing it aside. The zombie twitched and fell silent.

Noah's heart raced as he realized what Alejandro had just done. He looked at the zombie, then back at Alejandro, who was breathing heavily, his gruesome face contorted in what looked like a mix of triumph and desperation.

Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, Noah's world seemed to crumble. He felt his knees give way, and he sank to the ground, hugging Alejandro tightly in his arms. Tears welled up in his eyes as he trembled with fear and confusion.

"I don't get it, Alejandro," Noah said, his voice quivering. "You're a... a monster now. You're terrifying, and I can't... I can't stop being scared of you."

Alejandro, unable to speak in his current state, could only look at Noah with his lifeless, dead gaze. His heart ached as he realized the truth of Noah's words.

Then, in a moment of tragic irony, Alejandro leaned in and sank his teeth into Noah's shoulder, leaving a painful bite mark. The action shocked Noah, and he cried out in agony.

As Alejandro pulled away, Noah stared into those soulless eyes, finally comprehending the depth of his predicament. The love that had grown within Alejandro was a twisted, tragic version of what it once was, marred by the horrors of the zombie apocalypse. Noah's worst fears had come to life, and he was left to grapple with the horrifying truth—that the one he had tried so hard to protect had become the very thing he feared the most.

(i was sick for like 5 days and busy with school work so yuh, anyways i know this short story isn't really... romantic but it's something. I STILL HAVE TO WRITE DAY 5 OF SICK NOAH, im going to do that rn)

(I'm 9 days late)

[squadxx4392]

Jegulus as angsty song lyrics (from previous list posted)

(If The World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels)

James : I know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine

Regulus : Think I figured out how, how to think about you without it ripping my heart out

(Rewrite the Stars by Zac Efron and Zendaya)

James : You know I want you, it's not a secret I tried to hide, I know you want me, so don't keep saying our hands are tied

Regulus : You know I want you, it's not a secret I tried to hide, but I can't have you, we're bound to break and my hands are tied

(when the party's over by Billie Eilish)

James : Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin', but nothin' ever stops you leavin', quiet when I'm comin' home and I'm on my own, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that

Regulus : But nothin' is better sometimes, once we've both said our goodbyes, let's just let it go, let me let you go

(Daylight by David Kushner)

James : Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine, oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

Regulus : Tellin' myself it's the last time, can you spare any mercy that you might find, if I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try, try to follow your light, but it's night time, please, don't leave me in the end

(Astronomy by Conan Gray)

James : We've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars, we've seen everything from Saturn to Mars, as much as it seems like you own my heart, it's astronomy, we're two worlds apart

Regulus : We're two worlds apart, stop trying to keep us alive, you're pointing at stars in the sky that already died, stop trying to keep us alive, you can't force the stars to align when they've already died

(Bubblegum by Clairo)

James : Sorry I didn't kiss you, but it's obvious I wanted to, bubble gum down my throat and it's a curse, but my luck couldn't get any worse

Regulus : You look so nice in your shirt, it's sad because it just hurts, I'd do anything for you, but would you do that for me, too?

(Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens)

James : The evil it spread like a fever ahead, it was night when you died, my firefly, what could I have said to raise you from the dead? Oh could I be the sky on the Fourth of July? Well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We're all gonna die

Regulus : The hospital asked should the body be cast, before I say goodbye, my star in the sky, such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, do you find it all right, my dragonfly?, Shall we look at the moon, my little loon, why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light, well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We're all gonna die

(Heather by Conan Gray)

James : I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you, only if you knew how much I liked you

Regulus : But I watch your eyes as she, walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky, she's got you mesmerized while I die

(I Hear a Symphony by Cody Fry)

James : I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along, now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you

Regulus : I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along, you took my broken melody, and now I hear a symphony

(lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid)

James : Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here, even if it takes all night or a hundred years, ned a place to hide, but I can't find one near, wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

Regulus : Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone, tear me to pieces, skin to bone, hello, welcome home

(Train Wreck by James Arthur)

James : Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words, find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the train wreck

Regulus : Unburn the ashes, unchain the reactions now, not ready to die, not yet, pull me out the train wreck, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out, ah, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

(Something in the Orange by Zach Bryan)

James : But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun, something in the orange tells me we're not done

Regulus : To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I am, where the hell am I supposed to go? I poisoned myself again, something in the orange tells me you're never coming home

(Two Birds by Regina Spektor)

James : Two birds on a wire (oh-oh-oh), one says, "C'mon" and the other says, "I'm tired", the sky is overcast and I'm sorry (oh-oh-oh), one more or one less, nobody's worried

Regulus : Two birds on a wire, one tries to fly away, and the other watches him close from that wire, he says he wants to as well, but he is a liar

(Water Fountain by Alec Benjamin)

James : Now I'm grabbing her hips, and pulling her in, kissing her lips, and whispering in her ear, and I know that it's only a wish, and that we're not standing by the water fountain

Regulus : Now he's grabbing her hips, and pulling her in, kissing her lips, and whispering in her ear, and she knows that she shouldn't listen, and that she should be with me by the water fountain

[sleepymccoy]

An intimacy, a surprise

Chapter one: Rather a good pair

McCoy spun the lady, Heather, around comfortably. They were dancing well under a speed that would challenge him. She knew the steps, and when she stumbled she stayed with him enough that he could keep them moving until she found her feet. He rather suspected she was stumbling more than natural, given how much she laughed when he picked her up slightly. 

It all reminded him of Joanna. 

The song came to an end, Heather laughed breathlessly as he placed her back down on her feet. She was likely thirty years older than him, but her joy for life was stronger than anyone he regularly knew. She was as thin as they come, he hoped she lived for another century. He thanked her, kissed her hand, and left for the bar. 

With a thin glass of bubbly in hand he surveyed the room. Couples moved across the floor at varying degrees of skill. Still, colourful and pretty. 

As he scanned his focus caught on Spock. Spock, at the same damn conference as him. He could see why, novel biology was up both their alleys really. But it still annoyed him. 

But Spock looked nice now, expressionless (per usual) but fixated on the spinning pairs revolving across the room. His eyes flitted from one to another, interest held entirely. 

McCoy picked up a second glass and launched off from the comfort of the bar. 

“Want to dance?” he asked as he stood next to Spock. 

He didn't flinch, probably heard him approach with those finely tuned, pointy ears. 

“I am attempting to learn the basics,” Spock said softly. He didn't take his eyes off the floor.

McCoy placed his spare glass down by the crumbed prawn canapes. Prawn. On Mars. Heavens above who would eat seafood so far from natural water?

McCoy followed Spock's gaze and found a rather showy pair. The man's silly long tux flew behind him as they spun. 

“Well, you won't manage that watching them,” McCoy muttered.

“Oh?”

“Them? He's trained in tango, but she's trying for classic.” He took as sip and decided Spock's silence was curious, not bored. “He keeps raising his arms in the hold and it's throwing her off. They're good at dips, but she keeps losing her balance on the straight stretches because they're dancing different dances.”

Spock sniffed in sharply. “Are they all dancing differently?” 

McCoy hummed, swallowing his mouthful. “Everyone's making it up. Those two -” he pointed across the room at who he meant “- might've done a class, but likely not. These two near us are good at a slow waltz, but as soon as it speeds up they get messy.”

Spock turned and faced him. McCoy followed suit, giving him his attention. Face to face like this they stood slightly closer than usual. 

“What are the basic steps?” Spock asked. 

McCoy put his half glass of bubbly down and held his arms out, one hand hovering over Spock's waist while the other waited for his hand. “Let’s box step. I'll lead.”

Spock moved slowly, then hesitantly placed his hand in McCoy's waiting one. Their fingers dragged against each other, with Spock's hand just resting on his, not holding. 

McCoy took Spock's other hand and lifted it to his shoulder. “Put your hand here,” he said. Spock’s hand sat lightly on his shoulder, touching the edge of his collar. “And -” he sighed and pulled Spock by their joined hands, “a bit closer, please, Mr. Spock - let me take a hold you.” 

Spock stepped in as directed, and McCoy placed his hand on Spock's waist. Spock tensed on contact, so much muscle in him. 

“That's right,” McCoy breathed. He moved his hand to Spock's lower back, holding him solidly, and took his hand properly. “Do you feel stable?”

Spock frowned at him. “Of course.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. Never mind all that politeness, then. “Right,” he snapped. “Box step, follow me.”

You can keep reading under the readmore or click this link to ao3

McCoy telegraphed his movements obviously until Spock got the swing of it, muttering vague encouragement and advice as he did. 

Once they were moving smoothly he spoke. “Okay, look at me now.” 

Spock looked up, glancing down every moment they took a step to ensure he followed.

“The steps aren't changing, Spock. Here-” he pulled Spock close, tugging him in by the waist. Their bodies pressed together firmly and, to McCoy pleasure and relief, Spock didn't withdraw. 

He stepped the path of their dance slowly, exaggerating again. Spock followed with a breath of delay, keeping their thighs close. “You can feel what my legs are doing, yes?” McCoy whispered. “I'm pressed against you, so you don't need to see me move, you can feel it.”

They continued, Spock clinging to him like a coat of paint. Steadily they picked up speed, grace. A few times McCoy felt Spock move with a strength that was not helpful in someone meant to be following. McCoy would let it slide for now, but if they got up to spinning he was going to have to pull rank. 

“What do you think?”

“There is more than just this.”

“Yes, but this is what we always return to,” McCoy said easily. “So you want it to be second nature. Is the amount of touch okay?”

Spock smirked. “Vulcan dance is far more intimate.”

“I recall you describing it before,” McCoy muttered. “Wouldn't've been my first guess. Knowing you, I've been left assuming all Vulcans are stuck up prudes.”

“Doctor, I must be allowed my eccentricities,” Spock said lowly, “but I am still Vulcan.”

“Don't I know it.”

Spock hadn't missed a beat as they spoke, he was quite the natural. Not that McCoy would tell him. “Want to try for a dip?” he suggested instead.

Spock raised his eyebrow. “You are in the lead.”

“Doesn't mean I'm in charge.” 

They continued stepping together in perfect pattern.

“Yes, then,” Spock said. 

McCoy talked him through it first. Spock's attention on him was absolute. “On the back step, the first we took, I'll turn you to the side. My hand will stay on your waist, but I'm letting go here.” As he spoke he released Spock's hand and placed his on Spock's trap. 

“Your free hand goes to my shoulder, or wherever suits you. And then you dip. To the side. Do it shallow first so you know what coming out of it's like.”

Spock nodded. They reset their hands and continued to dance. McCoy muttered a warning, then turned them to the side. He pushed Spock back slightly, then kept his hands steady to show it was safe. Spock swayed back, his eyes unreadable on McCoy, then slowly returned to standing.

McCoy tried to keep the momentum of their dance, but there was something astounding in Spock's slow movement that broke the pattern. Still, they had to step. “And back into- there you are,” McCoy muttered. He cleared his throat. “Alright?”

“Indeed,” Spock said easily. “A simple process.”

McCoy kept the usual pattern for a few turns, letting Spock feel it as home. 

It wasn't home, though, was it. This was McCoy's home, and Spock was doing well at it. McCoy grinned. 

Perhaps it was time for him to step outside his comfort zone. Meet Spock halfway. Besides, all that talk of Vulcan dancing - he still couldn't imagine how Spock would embody it.

“You can be as Vulcan as you like about it, my dear,” McCoy said. “I can handle your culture.”

Spock simply raised his eyebrows. 

“Going again,” McCoy warned, then stepped into position and swung Spock back. 

Spock went far. His outer leg raised, dragging up along the outside of McCoy's thigh. McCoy had to bend into his lunge to keep balance as Spock leant back. 

Spock stopped at the low of the dip, letting McCoy hold him. He trailed his hand down from McCoy's shoulder, dragging slowly down his arm. 

McCoy realised he hadn't breathed and pulled Spock back to him. Spock righted himself at speed, almost destabalising McCoy as their chests slammed together. 

One of Spock's legs pressed between his, forcing his thighs slightly apart. His other hand remained high and now slowly lowered to the ground. And Spock had, somehow, returned to him with a hand in McCoy's hair which echoed the slow downward drag of his leg, toying gently at his neck. 

McCoy stepped forward with the leg between Spock's thighs, pressing into his crotch. 

Spock's eyes flashed wish fiery curiosity. He straightened the mirrored leg out in line with McCoy's leg and took the step. McCoy kept him close, like orbits that couldn't split further apart now that they'd come near.

With a moment's hesitation, they took the next step, moving smoothly again. McCoy dragged his hand up Spock's back, feeling his muscles engage as they stepped familiarly. As he did, Spock's hand left his neck and traveled gently down his arm.  

Spock gasped in a breath. McCoy turned his face in towards the sound and felt McCoy's skin on his lips. The air was hot here. 

McCoy’s hand reached Spock's upper back, so he pulled around to his chest and pushed him into another dip. 

Spock resisted for a moment, then went with the movement. His hand gripped McCoy's wrist as he lowered over McCoy's leg. They kept eye contact as Spock bent, and McCoy found himself leaning forward to stay close. 

Spock came out of it slowly, and McCoy did some slightly clever footwork without really considering if Spock would keep up. He stepped over Spock, half spinning him to standing. Spock didn't keep up, but he let himself be pulled and placed standing. 

They were close, as they tended to be in this dance, McCoy with a hand on Spock's back and another in his hair. Spock began to take McCoy's hand, crawling up from his wrist and pulling it from Spock's hair. McCoy clutched Spock's hand and pressed his other hand’s fingers into Spock's back muscle. He stepped forward, and Spock followed naturally backwards. They returned to the dance. 

“You didn't warn me that time,” Spock breathed. His lips brushed McCoy's cheek when he spoke. 

McCoy felt Spock's leg press against his thigh on one of the steps, leaving him slightly breathless. He was half hard, Spock was bound to know. He'd likely take it as a cultural compliment, knowing him. Contrary bastard.

“But you knew it was coming,” McCoy said. “We make rather a good pair.” 

“We always have done, Doctor.”

McCoy laughed and felt it vibrate back to him through Spock's chest. How wonderful. 

“I think we're terrible,” McCoy said.

Spock shook his head and straightened his posture, moving his mouth further from McCoy's. “You are disagreeing out of habit,” he said, his voice back to its usual unaffected way. It wasn't until he spoke now that McCoy realised how low and purring Spock's voice had become.

But he swallowed his interest and shrugged instead. “And you're just naturally condescending,” he said as blandly as he could. It didn’t sound particularly bland, he could hear the shiver in his throat coming through in his voice. Ah well, a man’s gotta try.

Spock smirked. He resisted McCoy's next step forward, bringing them to still. McCoy frowned sharply, then realised the music had been replaced with applause. 

He let go of Spock's hand and stepped back. Someone was speaking into a squeaky microphone; the dancing had stopped. McCoy was breathless. 

“Well done,” McCoy said quickly. He turned to the table and picked up his glass, downing the half of bubbly that remained. “We can revisit tomorrow night, maybe add spins?”

“Very good, Sir.” 

McCoy faced Spock and took him all in. He was flushed, ears green. Gaze steady, but eyes bright. As McCoy looked he stood straighter.

“Night cap?” McCoy offered, his voice hushed as the speech onstage became a serious of slides presented with little commentary. 

Spock glanced out at the room, then nodded. 

McCoy picked up his remaining full glass of bubbly and led Spock out. “We'll have to sneak it back, I didn't bring a drink with me.”

Spock took the glass from McCoy smoothly and shrugged his long sleeve to cover it. 

At McCoy's look he said, “No one questions a Vulcan.”

Well, sure. They nodded at the door attendant and made it to the lobby unchallenged. 

“Cute, Spock.”

Spock made a noise of displeasure. 

McCoy jabbed the elevator button and leaned against a column, watching the thoroughly innocent Vulcan. 

Spock bit his lower lip, but kept his gaze steady on McCoy. 

McCoy tilted his head to the side. He was going to kiss this man if something didn't change soon. That was a fucking shock. He breathed out and leaned his head against the column. 

Spock broke the eye contact, swallowing hard and glancing up to the elevators current level, then over to a plant. 

The lift bell sounded. McCoy laughed emptily, shook his head in disbelief, and slid into the elevator. Nothing had changed. Spock followed. 

As the door closed McCoy went to him. His hand found Spock jaw first, his thumb at the corner of his mouth. 

Spock went still, facing him, and McCoy continued the movement. He was a hairsbreadth from Spock when the fucker spoke.

“Doctor, they have cameras in the lifts here,” Spock gasped. 

McCoy pulled back. What? He frowned. “They do?” he asked. He stepped back, glancing up for a sign of a camera. “What kind of surveillance state bullshit needs cameras in the lifts?” he muttered. 

Spock's shoulders dropped. McCoy’s attention returned to him. “Wait, why don't you want to be seen with me on camera?”

Spock let out a sharp sigh. “I don't want to be seen doing anything on camera.”

McCoys head moved smoothly as he considered that, ending in a slow negative shake. “There are cameras on the Enterprise,” he disagreed.

Spock hesitated. His hand, the one not still subtly hiding McCoy's glass of bubbly, gripped the handrail. “I have never attempted to dance with you on board.”

McCoy nodded. He kept nodding as he thought. 

Not on the Enterprise. That suited him quite well, really. Keep work at work. 

He hadn't begun to dissect Spock's behaviour tonight, but this made sense in a way some deep seated romance didn't. He was surprised there was anything on Spock's part, but he wasn't shocked. 

He wasn't going to even start on himself, though.

“Have I offended you, Doctor? 

McCoy grinned sourly. “Whether private or public, Spock, dear, if you're thinking about kissing me you call me Leonard.”

Spock was quiet. The bell chimed and the doors slid open. 

McCoy kept watching Spock. He needed something to go off, something to react to or he'd just get angry. But Spock simply left the elevator. 

McCoy followed. “No, why the hell won't you kiss me on camera, hm?” he asked. 

Spock turned his face towards McCoy once to indicate where his attention was. Their rooms, absurdly and coincidentally across from each other, were at the end of the long corridor. 

“You object to my preference for privacy?” Spock asked, continuing to walk away quickly. 

“Who's watching that'll care? On the ship, sure, but no one gives a fig about us here!”

Spock didn't respond. McCoy considered shouting at him, but decided he would probably not live that down. 

They reached their shared end of the corridor. Spock opened his own door deftly and face McCoy. 

“Are you coming in?” he asked. 

“With an invitation like that, I'd prefer a lobotomy!” McCoy snapped. He turned and wrestled his own door open before Spock responded, slamming it behind him. 

His body tingled with electric heat and anger. He groaned and raised his hands to his face. “Fuck.” 

He was still fucking hard. 

A couple of words occurred to him, and with them was an excuse to return. He threw his door open and strode across the hallway. Spock had left his door slightly ajar, McCoy was going to absolutely fuck him into the ground for that. 

He let himself in and closed the door. 

Spock stood at the window, lone wine glass on the table next to him. He turned silently and faced McCoy, his face again blank. 

“I don't mind a one night stand,” McCoy snapped, “keeping it as quiet as you like, what I mind is the suggestion that you should be embarrassed to be found.”

“I do not feel embarrassment.”

McCoy waved his arms, immediately furious. “Liar!” He pointed at Spock. “More importantly, you feel desire.”

Spock shrugged. “That is physical.”

McCoy crossed the floor to him, aware that his tone was nearly a rant. “So’s embarrassment. And fear, and fucking joy when you get down to it.”

He drew up next to Spock, standing right by him. Spock turned slowly and met his gaze squarely. 

“You let your emotions rule you more than the average human does,” Spock said. Bitchily. Like a little bitch. 

McCoy swallowed, there was some emotion caught up in his throat. “Someone's got to make up for you,” he said. His voice was softer than he intended.  

“I am not embarrassed,” Spock complained. “Why should I share such a moment with any other?”

McCoy frowned and swallowed again. He sighed heartily and glared at the corner of the room for a beat. Such a moment. Fuck.

“That was a bit romantic, Spock,” McCoy pointed out.

“No it wasn't.” 

McCoy laughed, surprising himself with it. “You're disagreeing out of habit,” he snapped.

Spock raised his eyebrow. “And are you not condescending?”

McCoy grinned, irritation and lust both rising in him. “You piss me off,” he said forcefully. 

“Like I say, a slave to your emotions.” 

“Private enough for you in here?”

Spock’s eyes glanced at the door, then the window. “Yes.”

And so McCoy risked the universe, and kissed him.

Click here to read the rest on ao3, there's another 18 chapters <3

[melodyofthevoid]

Bodies are Business and Business is Good

Tw: blood, torture, amputation, etc. (It’s Heather) 

Word Count: 3,326

There were fewer things more satisfying, Heather thought, than the slight hiss of the gas lamp in her work office.

A frankly wonderful modern invention, much more controlled than simple wax candles and less likely to blow out at a moment’s notice when she had her back turned or was in the middle of delicate work. Natural light wasn’t exactly an option, not here. And her clients tended to demand their money’s worth.

Plus, it was so nice to listen to the small intake of breath when her victims realized she was there. And the narrowing of their eyes as she became fully visible.

She turned the key and struck a match, blinking as her own eyes adjusted to the light, bouncing off of the thick carved stone and cast iron tools lining the walls. The vials and jars just waiting to be filled. And, shining off of the few exposed scales of the exhausted mer panting and strapped to her operation table.

As expected, they flinched when she descended the stairs, pulling at the restraints with all of their might. Clearly not enough, but a valiant effort.

“Apologies for the delay, but since you so stubbornly held onto your disguise, it put a damper on my evening plans the other day. I’m sure you must be thirsty.”

The angel fish snarled, flaring their bright yellow tail and thrashing harder, their scales– iridescent– bright blues, yellows and greens that would make for excellent amulets or accessories.

She made a note to get more leather and wire for the necklaces. Accessories sold well. Not as well as her other products, but well enough. A status symbol to those who were in the know.

“Fuck off- you- you-”

“Bitch? Monster? I’m sure I’ve heard it before. Believe me, I have.”

A well in the back, hidden by a few boxes, caught her victim’s eye as she walked over to it, grabbing a nearby bucket and pumping it full. Saltwater smell filled the air, overpowering the metallic tang of Heather’s tools.

The mer eyed the bucket, thrashing less as she approached. Ah, good. Maybe this one would be cooperative. Or somewhat more cooperative.

“Actually… Before we get started, and I let you have this, I have a simple question for you. Do you happen to know the location of any other mermaid colonies? You don’t have to tell me all of them, just one or two.”

Any relief that the mer–oh what was their name again? It didn’t really matter, the mer’s relief vanished, eyes narrowing to slits and their fins flaring out.

“Tell you- no. Fuck you. You and your dog won’t get your hands on any more mer- not if I can help it.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing, he is something of a dog, look at you.”

She ran a hand along their tail, ghosting over the gashes that lined it. Wounds that’d barely scabbed over during transport. Other bruises and scratches marred their skin and fins. Heather scowled. Charles was new, but that didn’t excuse abject incompetence.

This would put something of a dent in what she could sell. Charles would be compensated accordingly.

“I told him minimal damage, and yet here you are. Can’t even follow basic directions right. But I digress. If you won’t offer what I need, there’s no sense in dragging this out.”

Heather mulled over where to start, eyeing her knives and branding rods. Carving took longer, but risked too much thrashing for a clean cut. Fins, for all of their use, tore rather easily if not handled properly.

Morro —ah, right that was their name— looked to be healthy enough that draining them first wouldn’t end in them bleeding out entirely.

The needle it was then.

“Now where did I put it… ah, here it is.”

She hummed under her breath, pulling out three glass jars, and her needle, cleaning off the point of it and eyeing Morro’s exposed forearms. A good thing that they were tense already. That certainly made things easier.

A particularly exposed vein on their right arm made for the perfect target and Heather couldn’t help the shiver that went down her spine as the metal slid into the skin, flesh giving way to the needle’s piercing point. So satisfying.

Immediately crimson blood filled the glass tank of the gun, flowing down to the tube and filling up the first jar. The lifeblood of her operation, so to speak. So many customers, all vying for that most viscous and vital of her products. And who was she to deny them when she was living testimony of its efficacy?

Of course she’d never give away all her trade secrets for her longevity. She wasn’t born yesterday.

Or even within the last half century.

In any case, the blood flowed easily, and already one jar gleamed with it. Full to the brim. Switching one out for the other, Heather placed it off on a table, taking a moment to admire the flicker of the gas lamp light against the glass and crimson. Perhaps one day she’d find some other substance, a gemstone, a resin, something that could capture the beauty of her craft.

She doubted it though.

With a second jar nearly filled, Morro’s skin showed the effects. Ashy, almost clammy in places. Their gaze unfocused and any attempts at thrashing much weaker than before. Reaching the limits of what they could give today.

Heather switched out the jars one last time, watching the stream slowly taper off as their breathing slowed down and body relaxed against their will. For their trouble, she poured some of the sea water in the bucket over them, giving them a pat on the shoulder as she extracted the needle from their vein and bandaged the wound. Some blood sluggishly seeping through the gauze.

“You,” Morro slurred, “you’ll pay for this. Indra will hunt you for the rest of your days.”

“Mmm, is that so? Tell me, how long do you think I’ve done this work?”

Her captive didn’t respond. Only glaring with bared fangs.

“Believe me, if your goddess really gave a damn, I’d think she’d have taken notice by now. I’m not going anywhere, and for the time being? Neither are you.”

“The debt will be paid- MHMPH!”

Heather tied the gag tighter, rolling her eyes.

“That’s enough out of you. I’ll spare myself the usual theatrics. Feel free to still scream though, I don’t mind. You’ll give me what I want either way.”

Finally, Heather could get to the real work.

Choosing the right knife to start with always proved to be the most taxing part of the work. She’d tried typical fish scalers in the past, but those were better suited for the fishmongers and fresh markets. The scales she worked with required more work than that. But on the other hand, using the back of the wrong knife chipped and damaged the scales, and no one wanted to buy half a scale.

Heather’s fingers danced along the different blades, intermittently picking one up, twirling it, feeling the heft and then setting it back down, moving on to the next one. Eventually she settled on her favorite, a long curving blade, sturdy and sharp. Tempered steel reflecting her own dark gaze back at her.

Starting from the base of the tail, as she’d done a thousand times before, she wedged the back end of it underneath the first line of scales, and pushed upwards.

The previously limp mermaid jerked up, a muffled yelp coming from beneath the gag. Of course, Morro barely possessed the strength to so much as twitch. Too tired to fully put up a fight, but Heather tightened the straps on their tail anyway. With that secure, she continued pushing up, the shining iridescent angelfish scales now tinted red at the base as they fell to the floor below. They’d be cleaned and polished later.

Despite the gag, Heather winced as the mer tried to shriek, to throw her off through the only means they had left. Admirable if it weren’t so annoying. She took a step back and stood back up, towering over her prey. Cooing with a voice as sickly sweet as she could make it.

“Oh relax, this isn’t even the worst part. But we can get to that if you want. It might make this seem pleasant in comparison. How does that sound?”

Morro shook their head, but she’d already flipped her blade around and dug it into the membrane of the main tail fin, slicing through with no resistance. The bright yellow would make for a lovely trophy for the right buyer.

It was a little too bright for her tastes though. It clashed with the decor.

Hitching breaths came from above, strained and hissing through clenched teeth. The poor thing was trying to keep themself calm even with the gag. She laughed, cutting through the dorsal and pectoral fins next, setting them aside to dry.

Muffled moans and cries left Morro and Heather checked their cheeks to see if there were tears. A frustratingly rare commodity. Not that they did anything but clients always wanted them. By all means she could just sell some sea water, but she had standards.

She clicked her tongue to see that there were no tears. A shame.

With the last of the fins removed, Heather spun her knife back around and continued peeling away the scales, with far less reaction this time, which was also in and of itself a shame. She liked the fight so long as she could still do her job. Heather’d done Morro a mercy if anything. After an amputation, pulling a few scales probably felt like nothing. Like pulling nails off of a hand freshly devoid of a few fingers.

Sometimes though, the sudden lack of fight signaled an end to that night’s session. Ignoring her subjects too much could be costly.  Brushing the last few whole scales into a second bucket, Heather stood back up, examining her work.

Morro was slumped over, exhausted from the strain and blood loss. Wiping any excess off of her knife on her apron, Heather did her usual checks, pulse, reflex, breathing, etc. They were still alive, which meant that she’d get at least a few more pints out of them by the time they eventually kicked the bucket. It’d be such a waste if she only got one day’s worth.

They’d hold out longer than that, she’d make sure of it.

With a sigh, she got out her needle and thread, stitching up the gashes Charles left and cleaning out the wounds. Bandaging up the stump near the tail. No infections, and no potential loss. The blood was no good from a dead mer.

As much as she liked the final processing steps, she still had other orders to fulfill, and going out of her way to catch another prospect? A waste of her time and resources. Nothing wasted, not if she could help it. 

Her hairnet came off, as did the gloves and apron, all placed in their proper places far enough away that any nearby officers couldn’t smell the fresh blood on her. She needed to replace the shirt though. Again. The price she paid for wearing white.

Ah well, no skin off her back. She disposed of any evidence once or twice a year. Fireplaces served a variety of uses.  

A quick shower and a change of clothes left Heather feeling far more accomplished and relaxed now that the euphoria of her work had passed. There was a certain… thrill to it, to the slice of flesh under her knife. But getting lost in that feeling led to less than precise work. In less vials of blood and damage to the organs she needed to sell later. So, for the sake of her own work, she had to take breaks. Balance was key, and experience taught her well.

Maybe for the evening she could fully unwind with some luxury time. She’d just have to find that bottle of wine and those chocolates she’d been saving.

The glasses were in the cabinet of her office, so here was hoping that there weren’t any last minute visitors. She’d had enough business for the day.

Though as she entered the room from the back, she sighed. No such luck.  

A certain red-haired captain stood in the main lobby, smoking a cigar. Blowing rings of smoke into the air with his usual air of disinterest. Odd, he’d delivered her fresh supply not even a year and a half ago. Confusion outweighed her irritation at the intrusion. For now.

“To what do I owe this visit, Captain?”

Fachnan exhaled, tapping the stray ash onto the floor. Sullying it.

Asshole.

“Ah, Heather. I was hoping you’d stay in that dungeon for a little while longer. I find it’s easier to take in your trophies without you drooling all over them. We were stopping here for a short time and well, I figured I’d drop by.”

“Mhm…sure.”

The twitch in Fachnan’s hand and dart of his eyes didn’t exactly scream “casual chat”.

“Why’re you really here, and make it quick. You’re getting ash all over my perfectly good carpet. I do try to keep an air of respectability here.”

“My apologies, your majesty, I’ll be sure to clean your lair to a shine.”

Heather’s jaw tensed, teeth close to grinding. Unnecessary stress meant unnecessary aging, deep breaths in, deep breaths out. She forced herself to relax, schooling her expression into neutral disdain.

“False deference doesn’t suit you, Captain. I’d get your nose off of the floor before I lose my patience.”

“Fine, fine. Since you’re in a hurry I’ll make it quick.”

Fachnan gestured wide, splaying himself across the couch in her office with all the grace and respect she’d come to expect. Letting out a sigh, Heather grabbed the first open bottle of wine she could find and poured some out. Counting down the minutes until he left.

“The reason for my visit is simple, I want to do you a favor.”

She arched her brow, sipping at her glass.

“You’ve just been a source of income for me, Lady of the Sea. Owe at least some of my success to you. I’ve got a tip you might be interested in, for a small price, of course. Can’t just give this sort of thing to any ametuer.”

Actively sending Charles out on another hunt before she could properly chastise him for damaging this merchandise? She’d pass.

Besides, she paid Fachnan for tangible work. If she threw her fortune any idiot who walked in promising a lead, she’d have exhausted her coiffers long ago. Her decades of experience were worth far more than what one measly captain thought he knew.

“Charming, but I’m not looking to take on another project or search for one at the moment. Frankly, I don't like drawing more attention to myself than necessary. You know how these new officers get, all bright eyed and full of belief in ‘law and order’. The guard’s changed in the past few years, and I’m not exactly looking to make any waves at present. The fewer bodies, the better.”

She sipped at her wine once more, mulling over the best way to politely but firmly tell Fachnan to fuck off. Alone time was calling her name like the sirens she cut to ribbons.

“Well that’s a shame. Here I thought you were interested in a shark mer. Guess not then.”

With an inhale, the wine went down her throat and Heather choked and coughed. It burned all the way up to her sinuses, but nothing compared to the spark of interest. Still catching her breath, she unlatched a compartment in the desk behind her, pulling out a sharpened knife and setting it on the wood beside her.

He could lie or take out his sword if he wanted, but her reputation spoke for itself. There’d be one winner here.

“I see I have your attention then,” he smirked, “I’ll admit, the gold was a bluff. This one’s on the house.”

“Bullshit. What do you want?”

“Fine, this mer in question is something of… a thorn in my side. You taking care of her would be doing me a service, Madame Butcher. She appears to be a hybrid, if that sweetens the deal.”

It did. Quite a bit in fact.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Dead certain. Last saw her face off the coast of Paign. Goes by the name of Delta. About seven feet tall, blue fins, blue coat, she’s fairly hard to miss. Has a whole crew of mer from what I could tell.”

A whole crew… she let out a breath.

“No shit. Typically I don’t get in the middle of feuds, or do bounty work for that matter, but just this once? I think I can agree with that. In fact…”

Heather stood up, walking over to a mahogany cabinet, carved with intricate flowers and vines. An inherited piece, and not even a forced one. They’d handed it over after the funeral, which was well and good. Natural causes were less messy to deal with generally speaking. She pressed the central-most flower’s petals and the compartment toward the bottom opened up, shining vials revealed within it.

“A gift, to a valuable partner. For your health.”

She held out a crimson vial. Heart blood.

“I’d like to keep my more reliable freelancer at sea for a few more years.”

Seconds ticked by, and Fachnan shook his head, “No, like I said. This one’s free. I just want her gone.”

Pirates and their honor codes. She rolled her eyes and set the vial back into its case.

Although speaking of…

“By the way, how’s that associate of yours doing? Changed his tune yet? I know he’s got quite the reputation for finding what he’s looking for. I’d like to use his expertise.”

Deep lines set into Fachnan’s face as he glanced away. Shoulders lowered. His bravado evaporated leaving behind only bitter salt.

“He and I won’t be seeing each other any time soon, gods willing. My only hope is it was quick.”

Ah. So it was like that then.

“I see, I apologize. I’ve been rather busy as of late, haven’t kept up with the times. My condolences for your loss.”

He grit his teeth, expression darkening further.

“It was his decision. We parted ways some time ago. He knew the risks of going soft, and look where it got him.”

“Well, that is how it is sometimes. Connections come and connections go. Time stops for a lucky few.”

The dots weren’t hard to connect, as hard as Fachnan fought to keep his aloof persona intact. Whatever drama or series of events led to this, frankly she didn’t care. What mattered was her prize. He could mourn his lost flame all he wanted on his own time.

With the last of his cigar fully gone, Fachnan stared at the embers before standing up from the couch, lifting his chin to look down at her. She met his gaze with a smile every bit as sharp as her tools.

“I’ll be heading off then. Send word when you need my services again.”

“Oh I will, don’t you worry. Thank you for stopping by, your help is much appreciated.”

He didn’t respond, only turning for the door and leaving Heather alone with her wine and her thoughts. Her smile stretched wider across her face and she let out a laugh, growing in intensity as euphoria set in.

A shark. A shark hybrid.

Looked like she’d have to clear her schedule to ensure that this… Delta could get all the attention that Heather could offer. Get the care and quality work that she deserved as the future crown jewel of her collection.

Morro could be rest assured that their suffering would be brief. She had preparations to make.

[authormars]

Hi! Welcome to my blog! I'm not the greatest at making things pretty (and I know I have a mutual who struggles to read fancy text like Lucille and I want to make this accessible and easy to read!), so this'll all be normal text. Some are colored, but that's just to show the most important bits!

Beneath the cut is my introduction and all the information I want to share about me!

You can call me Mars, though that may change in the future or you may see one of my mutuals call me something else. My pronouns currently are He/They, but that may change. I believe I am a trans man, though I'm not sure, so.

I write fanfics. I'll have a master list below (hopefully). If you've seen the username Author_Mars on other things, yep that's me! (Normally)

I'm currently takung requests for fics! See the request rules here and the post about my Fictober here.

The fics I'm currently writing are a part of the Obey Me! Shall We Date/Obey Me! Nightbringer fandom. I normally write Dialuci fics and I post about Dialuci, but you may find the stray other character post here.

I'm currently working on tagging my earlier posts, but I have a tagging system now! The easiest way to find something is to put [subject] stuff. For example, "My stuff" will be all of my own posts I wrote, "OM stuff" will be all Obey Me posts, and things such as that.

You can find the link to my fic master list here.

If you see a post about Mikey or Lotan, that would be my lovely mutuals, @/ivediedmorethan20times and @/lizardsandmonkeys.

I've been in a lot of fandoms, so here's a list of things I've been interested in/am interested in.

Amphibia, Bendy and The Ink Machine, Black Butler, Cookie Run Kingdom, Demon Slayer, Doki Doki Literature Club, Dream SMP, Epic: The Musical, FNAF, Gravity Falls, Greek Mythology, Haikyuu, Hamilton, Hazbin Hotel, Heathers, Helluva Boss, HxH, MHA/BHNA, Obey Me: Shall We Date?, Poppy Playtime, Promised Neverland, TFF FNAF, TMNT (2012+Rise), The Owl House, The Walten Files, Undertale

Thanks for reading, you've reached the end!

[misfitwashere]

August 26, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 27, 2024

The point that is currently holding up plans for ABC’s September 10 presidential debate is whether the candidates’ microphones will be muted when it is the other’s turn to speak. Vice President Kamala Harris’s team wants the mics “hot”; Trump’s team wants them turned off. Officials on the Harris campaign say they are quite willing for viewers to hear Trump’s outbursts and, in a statement, appeared to bait Trump by saying: “Our understanding is that Trump’s handlers prefer the muted microphone because they don’t think their candidate can act presidential for 90 minutes on his own.”

Over the past few years, observers who have been paying attention to Trump have noted that he appeared to be sliding mentally and warned that when voters saw him again outside his Mar-a-Lago cocoon and his rallies they would be shocked. That prediction appears to have come true. Trump seems to have little interest in doing the actual work of campaigning, instead swinging between grievance-filled rants and flat recitations of his apocalyptic worldview, trying to stay in the center of public consciousness with outrageous lies and, as he did in his suggestion that he would not debate Harris, telling people to “stay tuned!”

But as Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo pointed out today, “nobody cares.” Instead of making him look dominant, his old performance makes him look weak, especially as he appears unable to grapple with Harris’s rise and is still fixated on how “unfair” it was of the Democrats to choose Harris as their presidential candidate. In 2016 and 2020, Trump had the help of talk radio host Rush Limbaugh and the Fox News Channel to push his narrative, but Limbaugh died in 2021 and the Fox News Channel is somewhat chastened after a $787 million settlement over its lies about the 2020 election. Harris and Walz are now setting the terms of debate surrounding the 2024 presidential election, and their dominance illustrates his weakness.

A key element of Trump’s political power was always his insistence that he is by far the nation’s popular choice. In 2016 he insisted that he won the popular vote against Democratic candidate former secretary of state Hillary Clinton—in fact, he lost by almost 3 million votes—and even now, he keeps saying he has all the votes he needs and that he is doing well in the polls, when demonstrably he is not. His constant focus on crowd sizes and enthusiasm is designed to establish the illusion that a majority of people prefer his election to that of his opponents.

By insisting he is the popular choice, Trump has tried to make his election seem inevitable, convincing his loyalists that a loss must be an assault on our democracy and that good Americans will fight to defend both it and him. The Big Lie that he won the 2020 presidential election was intended to cement the idea that the Democrats could win only by cheating. In fact, President Joe Biden won the 2020 presidential election by about 7 million votes and won the Electoral College by 306 to 232, the same split that in 2016, when it was in his favor, Trump called a landslide. Trump and his allies lost more than 60 lawsuits challenging the results of the election. 

And yet, pushing the idea that Trump cannot lose in a fair election seems to have been a key part of his strategy for 2024. The lie that there was widespread voter fraud in 2020 led to a wave of new state laws to suppress the vote. MAGA lawmakers defended these laws on the grounds that they must respond to voter fraud. The nonprofit law and public policy Brennan Center for Justice recorded that in 2021 alone, from January 1 through December 7, at least 19 states passed 34 laws that restricted access to voting.

In May 2024 the Brennan Center reported that in at least 28 states, voters this year will face new restrictions that were not in place in the 2020 presidential election. Varying by state, these laws do things like shorten the time for requesting an absentee ballot, make it a crime to deliver another voter’s mail-in ballot, require proof of citizenship from voters who share the same name as noncitizens, and so on. 

As MAGA Republicans and their plans—especially their assault on reproductive healthcare and the policies outlined in Project 2025—become increasingly unpopular, Republican-dominated states are ramping up their effort to keep the people they assume will oppose them from voting. 

In Nebraska, Alex Burness reported in Bolts today, two Republican officials—Attorney General Mike Hilgers and Secretary of State Bob Evnen— last month stopped the implementation of a new state law, passed overwhelmingly by a Republican-dominated legislature earlier this year, that granted immediate voting rights to about 7,000 people with past felony convictions. In the process, Hilgers also declared unconstitutional a 2005 law that had allowed those convicted of a felony to vote two years after they completed their sentence. Evnen then told county-level elections offices that they could not register former felons.

The confusion has made people nervous about even trying to register. “People are scared they’re going to get charged with something if they try to vote and can’t vote, so a lot of people will just wash their hands of it,” Pamala Pettes told Burness. “They don’t want to go and vote unless they have a clear idea of what’s going on. They don’t have that.” More than 100,000 people are caught in this confusion. As Burness notes, the election could come down to the city of Omaha, where thousands of potential voters—overwhelmingly Black, Latino, and Native—have been blocked from registering.

Voter intimidation is underway in Texas, too. On August 18, Fox News Channel personality Maria Bartiromo, who was a key figure in promoting the Big Lie, posted a rumor that migrants were illegally registering to vote at a government facility west of Fort Worth. The Republican chair and election administrator there said there was no evidence for her accusation and that it was false, but Texas attorney general Ken Paxton nonetheless launched an investigation.  

In addition to feeding the narrative that there is voter fraud at work in Texas, the investigation led Paxton’s team to raid the homes of at least seven Latino Democrats. No one has been charged in the aftermath of the raids. Latino rights advocates call them a “disgraceful and outrageous” attempt to intimidate Latino voters and have filed a formal complaint with the Department of Justice.

Today, Texas governor Greg Abbott announced that since 2021, Texas has removed more than one million people from the state’s voter rolls, and said the process will be ongoing. Abbott’s office said those removed are ineligible to vote because they have moved, are dead, or are not citizens. But more than 463,000 of those on the list have been removed because their county of residence is unaware of their current address. 

Even when voters do make their wishes known, in Republican-dominated states, those wishes are not always honored. David Kurtz of Talking Points Memo today pointed out an article in which Adam Unikowsky, who clerked for the right-wing U.S. Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia, eviscerated a recent decision by the Arkansas Supreme Court that will prevent an abortion rights initiative from appearing on the ballot in November.  

Why is the state supreme court keeping an initiative supported by far more than the 10% of voters required by law off the ballot? Because, Unikowsky writes in Adam’s Legal Newsletter, “when the ballot initiative sponsor submitted its petition on the due date, it failed to staple a photocopy of a document it had already submitted a week earlier. The court reached this conclusion even though (a) nothing in Arkansas law requires this photocopy to be stapled; and (b) even if this requirement existed, Arkansas law is clear that the failure to staple this photocopy is [fixable], and the sponsor immediately [fixed] the asserted defect.”

Unikowsky accuses the court of guaranteeing that a measure the people wanted could not win by making sure it was not on the ballot. Further, although Unikowsky doesn’t mention it, keeping abortion off the ballot will generally help Republicans in the Arkansas elections by keeping those eager to protect reproductive rights feel less urgency to make it to the polls. 

Another way to suppress the vote is showing up these days in Georgia, where MAGA Republicans in the state legislature have handed control of the state election board to a three-member MAGA majority whose members Trump has personally praised. 

The three have been passing a series of last-minute rule changes that will sow confusion over how to conduct an election and then will give Republican-dominated election boards the power to refuse to certify election results. Such a scenario would put into effect the plan Trump and his allies hatched in 2020 to nullify the will of the voters. Tonight the Democratic National Committee and the Democratic Party of Georgia sued to stop Trump’s allies from blocking the certification of the 2024 election. 

The momentum of the Harris-Walz campaign undermines the Big Lie that Trump is the popular choice, but the voter suppression the Big Lie justified remains. That voter suppression recalls the years of Reconstruction in the American South, when southern Democrats determined to keep Black men from voting found all sorts of ways to do so on grounds other than race, which the Fifteenth Amendment prohibited. Modern media allows us to see today’s machinations in real time, making it easier for civil rights lawyers—who were few and far between in the late nineteenth century—to fight back, and for voters to recognize that they are not alone in their struggle to claim their right to a say in their government. 

In her acceptance speech at last week’s Democratic National Convention, Vice President Harris called for the passage of two measures killed by Republicans after 2020: the John Lewis Voting Rights Act and the Freedom to Vote Act. These measures would stop the flow of big money into politics, end partisan gerrymandering, and protect the right to vote.

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[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone Playlists

So I made playlists for the Brozone brother. These are songs from my personal music taste (and a little bit off that). They all like something besides pop. Starting off with John Dory.

Next Brother

My band by D12

Too sweet by Hozier

Chicken in black by Johnny Cash (he likes older country songs)

Take me where you go by Fulton Lee

Psycho Crazy by Halestrom

Little Miss Perfect by Taylor Louderman (queer and obsession with being perfect? Sigh him up!)

Voices in my head by falling in reverse

Valentino by Years & Years & MNEK

Panic at The Disco

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Billionaire by Bruno Mars and Travie McCoy

Porn Star Dancing by My Darkest Days (embarrassed to admit it tho)

Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustra

My First Kiss by 3OH!3 featuring Ke$ha

S&M by Rihanna

He likes boys by Simone Battle

Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day

You call me a bitch like it’s a bad thing by Halestorm

Good girls go bad by Cobra Starship

Sarcasm by Get Scared

Yeah by Usher ft Lil Jon & Ludacris

Beekeeper’s daughter by All American Rejects

Do Not Disturb by Halestorm

Vicious by Halestorm

Love Bite (so do I) by Halestorm

Angel of Darkness by Alex C featuring Yasmin K

You’re gonna go far kid by The Offspring

Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin

Diary of Jane by Breaking Benjamin

Bad Romance but specifically the punk version

Animal I have Become by Three Days Grace (both him and Branch being a lil feral)

Hollaback Girl by Gwen Stefani

19 Somethin’ by Mark Willis (version 1 bc I didn’t know there was a 2 until just now)

Likes Heathers the musical songs, solely bc of the character JD (it’s Floyd's fault)

Take a bow by Rihanna

Angel with a shotgun by the cab

Lazy Song by Bruno Mars

Lost boy by Ruth B.

Everybody talks by Neon Trees

Bang Bang by Green Day

I’m Not Gay by J Pee (this is a gag song to him and Floyd)

I hate being a grown up by Jenna Marbles (found it back when youtube first came around, started listening to it ironically, soon became unironically)

Mama by MCR

I kissed a girl by Katy Perry

Love the way you lie by Eminem featuring Rihanna

P!nk (especially Fucking perfect, hits him hard)

Twenty One Pilots

All American Rejects

Stacy’s Mom by Fountain of Wayne (either him or Bruce dated a girl named Stacy and this song pissed her off)

Die Happy by DREAMERS

BOYTOY by Halle Abadi

I’ll sleep when I’m dead by Set it Off

Hello Anxiety by Bowling for Soup

I am the righteous hand of god by Poor Mans Poison

Brozone songs