#74 third rate

[workersolidarity]

🌍 🏦💵 🚨

FIVE RICHEST BILLIONAIRES DOUBLE THEIR WEALTH SINCE 2020 WHILE 5 BILLION ARE MADE POORER

Oxfam International, a British-founded International Charitable organization based in Nairobi, Kenya, says the world's richest people have managed to double their wealth since 2020, as 5 billion people are made poorer as a result of a "decade of division."

Oxfam made the claims in a press release on its recently published report released Monday, January 15th on inequality and global corporate power called "Inequality Inc."

According to Oxfam, the world's richest people have more than doubled their wealth from $405 billion to $869 billion since 2020, a rate equivelent to $14 million per hour, while approximately 5 billion people have been made poorer in the same time period.

"If current trends continue," the statement says, "the world will have its first trillionaire within a decade but poverty won't be eradicated for another 229 years."

Oxfam looks to the Davos gathering of the world's largest corporations, pointing to the valuations of the top ten largest companies, together worth more than $10.2 trillion.

“We’re witnessing the beginnings of a decade of division, with billions of people shouldering the economic shockwaves of pandemic, inflation and war, while billionaires’ fortunes boom. This inequality is no accident; the billionaire class is ensuring corporations deliver more wealth to them at the expense of everyone else,” Oxfam's International interim Executive Director Amitabh Behar is quoted as saying.

“Runaway corporate and monopoly power is an inequality-generating machine: through squeezing workers, dodging tax, privatizing the state, and spurring climate breakdown, corporations are funneling endless wealth to their ultra-rich owners. But they’re also funneling power, undermining our democracies and our rights. No corporation or individual should have this much power over our economies and our lives —to be clear, nobody should have a billion dollars”.

According to Oxfam, Billionaires increased their wealth by $3.3 trillion since 2020, a growth rate three times faster than inflation.

Oxfam adds that, despite representing just 21% of the global population, the countries of the Global North own 69% of global wealth, with Global North countries home to 74% of global billionaire wealth.

Further, the top 1% own 43% of all global financial assets, with billionaires owning 48% of wealth in the Middle East, 50% in Asia, and 47% in Europe.

In addition to overall wealth, 148 of the world's largest corporations raked in $1.8 trillion in total net profits, a 52% increase over the period from 2018-2021.

Corporate windfalls increased to nearly $700 billion, with the report finding that for every $100 in profits made by the top 96 major corporations between July 2022 and June 2023, $82 was paid out to wealthy shareholders.

Oxfam International interim Executive Director Amitabh Behar says that “Monopolies harm innovation and crush workers and smaller businesses. The world hasn’t forgotten how pharma monopolies deprived millions of people of COVID-19 vaccines, creating a racist vaccine apartheid, while minting a new club of billionaires."

The Oxfam press release goes on to point our that people are working harder and for longer, often for poverty wages in unsafe jobs, adding that the wages of nearly 800 million people have not kept up with inflation, losing $1.5 trillion in value over the last two years, the equivalent of nearly a month's lost wages for each individual worker.

Oxfam also found that, of the 1'600 largest companies, less than 0.4% of them are publicly committed to paying employees a living wage.

Oxfam shows how a "war on taxation" by large corporations has pushed the effective tax rates on corporations to fall by a third in recent decades, while relentless privitization of public services like education and water services have expanded massively.

“We have the evidence. We know the history. Public power can rein in runaway corporate power and inequality —shaping the market to be fairer and free from billionaire control. Governments must intervene to break up monopolies, empower workers, tax these massive corporate profits and, crucially, invest in a new era of public goods and services,” said Behar.

“Every corporation has a responsibility to act but very few are. Governments must step up. There is action that lawmakers can learn from, from US anti-monopoly government enforcers suing Amazon in a landmark case, to the European Commission wanting Google to break up its online advertising business, and Africa’s historic fight to reshape international tax rules.”

Oxfam offers three notes on how governments can rectify the situation, including the following:

🔹 Revitalizing the state. A dynamic and effective state is the best bulwark against extreme corporate power. Governments should ensure universal provision of healthcare and education, and explore publicly-delivered goods and public options in sectors from energy to transportation.

🔹 Reining in corporate power, including by breaking up monopolies and democratizing patent rules. This also means legislating for living wages, capping CEO pay, and new taxes on the super-rich and corporations, including permanent wealth and excess profit taxes. Oxfam estimates that a wealth tax on the world’s millionaires and billionaires could generate $1.8 trillion a year.

🔹 Reinventing business. Competitive and profitable businesses don’t have to be shackled by shareholder greed. Democratically-owned businesses better equalize the proceeds of business. If just 10 percent of US businesses were employee-owned, this could double the wealth share of the poorest half of the US population, including doubling the average wealth of Black households.

#source

@WorkerSolidarityNews

#inequality #wealth inequality #us news #us wealth #global inequality #wealth #capitalism #billionaires #richest people #politics #news #geopolitics #world news #global news #international news #global politics #world politics #international politics #international #international affairs #united states #davos #wef #world economic forum #billionaire #wealth accumulation #imperialism #us imperialism #western imperialism #socialism

[elvisabutler]

jealousy

summary: you know better than to talk to other guys sometimes in elvis's ear shot. elvis reminds you of why. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley pairing: austin butler elvis x female reader rating: m. word count: 2100 warnings: throat fucking. possessiveness. big daddy elvis ( so '74 to '77 timeframe ). mildly dubious consent. elvis's paranoia. elvis's prescription drug use. daddy kink, because elvis does actually refer to himself as daddy in this. gratuitous use of nicknames ( lil one, baby, honey, darlin', the whole nine yards ). mild hint of face fucking. kind of faintly almost d/s element but not quite. oral ( m receiving, f implied/referenced ) author's note: welcome to day 29 for kinktober, throat fucking with austin!elvis. okay so everyone needs to thank @butlersxbirdy for this one since at the time she and I literally were losing it over big daddy elvis. we still are, but it was basically hey which version of austin elvis should i do, and she was like big daddy without missing a beat. i'll have a 68 special version out possibly tonight or tomorrow but this one got top billing because i wanted to. but basically everyone else gives you soft big daddy, i'll give ya some fucked up big daddy. ( i'm going to give y'all a very very soft big daddy for the holiday season, don't worry. ) imagine whoever, this is supposed to be austin elvis but timeline i picked makes it tricky y'all know my particular drill.

Elvis is possessive, a fact that everyone who ever spends longer than two minutes with the man and has him like them is vividly aware of. You are Elvis's or you are not, there is that strict dichotomy that very few if any people break- and you are not one of those people. Priscilla, when you've interacted with her during handoffs for Lisa tells you it didn't used to be this bad, that yes, he could sleep around but she couldn't and that her finding her way into his former karate instructors bed after she left him made him so angry he was almost unrecognizable, but she figured it was fine and would settle down. Then she heard the stories from Linda and now you and- well she likes to pretend you'll calm him down. Not fix him exactly but you've already mildly tempered his pill usage and have him actually eating healthy despite being on the road. Maybe third time's the charm?

Except- here is the inherent problem, you're younger than him, not hard seeing as he's around his 40s but you crave attention in a way that he doesn't always provide. You wouldn't say he disregards the fact that you could leave- oh far from it- his worship of you legendary to all members of the Memphis Mafia and anyone who's had any sort of contact with Elvis as far as touring or recording goes. But sometimes he forgets- sometimes in the haze of his pills and every other thing he forgets that you can run free, you can easily run away from him and never look back- he's spoiled you with enough clothes that even if you had no marketable skills to speak of you could handle yourself on selling his trinkets alone.

You sometimes flirt as easy as breathing, a quality that Elvis will swear up and down is one of his favorite about you- you're pure, baby but Lord have mercy, the things your eyelashes fluttering can do to a man he had once said after you had told him about your sexual history. You flirt and flirt and boy- men- have a tendency to fall for it, tend to become wrapped around your finger in ways that would make your Mama blush. It gives you a rush of power, reminds you that even if Elvis is ignoring you for the fourth day and night in a row that you're attractive, you're the sort of woman men want and it gives you a little pep. But you know as well as anyone that you can't let Elvis hear or see you do what you do when you flirt though so you always make sure it's done out of his earshot, his eyesight and while he's preoccupied.

At least that's usually what you do, it's the fifth day and while you don't mind Elvis leaving you alone for a bit, for a day or two when it starts inching toward a week you can't help but feel bitter and angry. It's that feeling that leads you to where you are, your hand on some guy's- you think his name is Jeff- arm giggling at something that is not even remotely funny but you know how to charm a man. You're wrapped up in trying to make sure he's smiling that you don't hear the telltale sound of Elvis's buckle clanging as he walks up to see what you're doing. You don't notice how your conversation partner freezes as his eyes look behind you. You don't notice the scent of Elvis freshly showered until you feel his heat up against you, until you feel his breath against your neck and until you feel the growl emanate from his deep in his chest. You freeze after that.

"Darlin'." He says, his tone deathly calm. "Who's this? A friend?"

You open your mouth to say something before Jeff ends up muttering something about needing to head off but it was so nice to meet you and you turn to face Elvis a snarl forming before you can even stop it.

"Oh now you want to pay attention to me." You move to make sure Elvis doesn't try and grab for you. "Find someone else and you appear out of thin air."

Elvis's eyes narrow and darken making you very quickly realize you might have messed up. They're not as clear as they have been in the past weeks which means that just maybe he's not all there. That you've stepped into a minefield that he'll take you out of, just not right this moment. You move to grab his arm before he yanks it out of your reach. "Oh no, honey, you know better. I was- Come with me to our room, baby. Think I need to talk to you. Remind you of some things." He turns from you with a growl that has arousal curling low in your abdomen and has you traling after him in a way that sometimes embarrasses you with how eager you are to do it, but you can't stop yourself from doing it nonetheless. The walk and elevator ride up to where he's staying and where you should be staying is a silent one, punctuated only with Elvis grumbling something to himself and your heaving breaths the more you think about what Elvis is planning on doing to you. You enter the room and in an instant find yourself crowded against the wall, Elvis using his both his weight and his arms to make sure you're not moving any time soon. You open your mouth to talk before Elvis shakes his head and cuts you off.

"Ya know how jealous I get lil one. Know how I damn well wanna kill men when they're lookin at you as you're cumming just from me brushin' against ya. And yet ya let one of them think he could have ya." His hand moves to your shoulder and makes a movement like he wants to force you to the ground but he holds off for at least the moment. "Got me so goddamn riled up and jealous, baby. Got your Big Daddy angry. You wanna know what I do when I'm this angry with ya? What I've always wanted t' do when you get me this angry?"

You look at him in what you like to think is an attempt to look innocent, an attempt to charm him with those eyelashes you know he can barely resist only to see the look in his eyes, see the look of barely restrained anger written all over his face and realize that it won't work. The words you had meant to say die on your lips, swallowed in the guip you take as you nod.

"On your knees." He commands and leaves absolutely no room for questioning, his hand remaining on your shoulder in case you need some help getting down. "And deal with my pants while you're at it."

You comply, falling to your knees quicker than you ever thought possible, your hands working at his belt buckle and at the button and zipper of his pants, your hands shaking just a tad as you pull them down. He hadn't asked to have his boxers taken off so you left them, not that it did much to conceal what was happening underneath, how he seemed to be getting harder by the moment.

His hand that was on her shoulder moves to the back of your head, his ring covered hands moving to grip your hair in any way he could. "Little boys wouldn't know what to do with ya. Wouldn't treat ya like I do. Wouldn't have you coming nearly as hard as ya do with me." You shift a little, trying to produce some form of friction between your legs. You're so focused on that task that you don't notice how Elvis's eyes zero in on the motion. All you actually notice is how he ends up letting out a laugh that sounds downright evil. It sounds like that young boy who sang that he was evil and you shiver. "I'm gonna make sure you can't fuckin' talk to them for a week. Gonna wreck your throat so that all you can do is nod for yes daddy." He pauses and growls. "Bet you're gonna cum right now. Bet if I touched you right this second you'd make a mess of the goddamn carpet."

Leaning forward, you start to nuzzle at his cock through his briefs and realize that you can't feel any shame about it. You don't feel any shame about it, too busy trying to calm Elvis down and too busy remembering just why as much as you might want to stray from him when he wanders just a bit- you don't. "Daddy, I would. I would make a mess, but please daddy, you can touch me I want you to touch me."

Elvis yanks at your hair and thus you back a little roughly and you hiss. "No nuzzlin'. This ain't you getting a treat. This is you being reminded who you belong to." His tone is shifting into something that almost sounds like a growl. "Whose thick thighs you cum on. Whose cock you love having in that pretty pussy and mouth. Whose is it, darlin'?"

"Yours." You whine, pulling down his underwear without him actually asking to. "Your thighs, your cock."

His lips curl into a smirk as he uses the grip on your hair to force your face into his crotch. You have the foresight to open your mouth but even so you end up choking a little around his cock. He pauses when he realizes you're struggling, not wanting to hurt you exactly. You grip his thigh as an okay and he continues to push his cock further into your mouth until it's tickling the back of your throat. You swallow involuntarily and Elvis groans, low and in a way you want to hear over and over again. He starts to move, using his grip on your hair to control how quickly he's fucking your mouth, how deep his cock is reaching. You gag a little even as you try and relax just from the sheer force of his cock hitting your throat.

"Swallow, baby, do it again." He murmurs, trying to feel your throat start to constrict around his tip. "Fuckin' love this mouth. Most perfect goddamn mouth. Never gonna let it go. Never gonna let those boys take you from me. I'll shoot 'em before they do. Might not look like 'em anymore but they couldn't handle my girl."

You whimper at the words, your eyes starting to roll in the back of your head as you rut against the floor, wanting to touch yourself but resisting the urge. Elvis is still controlling the pace but you can feel how he's starting to struggle to keep up, his movements becoming a little less controlled, a little less consistent. You help out, making sure your mouth stays on him, that his cock still is hitting the back of your throat until you taste the saltiness of his cum and feel the warmth of it filling your mouth. You swallow, struggling just a little but Elvis doesn't let up, doesn't let you off until he's finished and you've swallowed as much as you can. He finally lets go of your hair and you lean back, breathing heavily, trying to ignore the throbbing of your clit and the mild burn you still feel in your throat.

"Wasn't flirting." You force out, your voice sounding like you had every sore throat known to man at once. You try and swallow thinking it will help before realizing it doesn't. "Want to cum, please."

His eyes are lidded when he looks at you, looking almost like he might want to fall asleep on you before he hums, holding out his hand to you. "Up on the bed. No talking till you come. Wanna hear you scream my name with my face in your pussy."

You take his hand, using the leverage to pull yourself up and frown. "I don't think I can scream. Won't make the noise."

He pulls you close and pulls you into a kiss. "You will. Then you can lose your voice. Then we can both know I fucked that throat of yours completely raw."

If you raise an eyebrow in a challenge, that's your business. And if after that eyebrow you don't speak for another week because you practically croak when you try? Well. That's yours and his business.

#austin butler elvis x you #austin butler elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin elvis #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis x you #austin butler elvis x y/n #austin elvis x y/n #austin butler #austin butler elvis smut #austin elvis smut #ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes #think i did all the tags?

[ltwilliammowett]

An original grog bucket from HMS Majesty, a 74 Gun third-rate ship of the line launched in 1785 at Deptford, England fought at Aboukir Bay, known as "The Battle of the Nile" under the command of Captain George Blagdon Westcott who was killed in during the action. Incribed : "Good men of the MAJESTIC. In remembrance of ABOUKIR BAY. Your toast shall be God Bless KING GEORGE, ADMIRAL NELSON and brave CAPTAIN WESTCOTT. 1798"

The contents of this bucket is of course not enough for the whole crew. But the grog was usually distributed from the barrel in such buckets to the individual divisions to avoid long queues.

#naval history #naval artifacts #grog bucket #hms majesty #late 18th century #age of sail

[defconprime]

Star Trek: Discovery - "Grudge"

(Adventures in the 32nd Century issue 1)

Grudge narrates the story of having to deal with a bunch of super happy space hippies (crew of the USS Discovery) and eventually being cool with it she guesses.

RATING: 74%

(Where to place: Between the third and fourth seasons.)

#star trek discovery #74% #grudge #star trek comics

[mariacallous]

Medicine may be about to achieve a long-sought goal: a “morning-after pill” to prevent sexually transmitted infections. It could sharply reduce soaring rates of illness and huge health care costs.

The effectiveness of this pill—and it literally is a pill, a 200-milligram tablet of the antibiotic doxycycline—has been studied for a decade, and people have taken it covertly for years. But study results published in The New England Journal of Medicine look likely to tip the pill into clinical practice. In the study, conducted in San Francisco and Seattle, participants who took a single dose within 72 hours of having sex without a condom were only a third as likely to contract chlamydia, gonorrhea, or syphilis as those who didn’t take the pills.

As with everything in medicine, there are footnotes to the findings, and risks to balance the benefits. The study was conducted only among gay and bisexual men, along with transgender women and nonbinary people assigned male at birth. Within those groups, it was limited to people who had been diagnosed with a sexually transmitted infection (STI) in the past year. The study didn’t include cisgender women; in past studies, the preventive antibiotic has not worked as well for them. And the study noted, but didn’t explore in depth, the possibility that routinely administering an antibiotic could provoke resistance either among the bacteria that cause STIs or others carried in participants’ bodies.

All that said, the results have created real excitement among physicians and people who would be eligible to take what’s being called doxyPEP (for doxycycline post-exposure prophylaxis)—even though health authorities, such as the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, haven’t yet made formal recommendations for its use. 

“I think this is a real game-changer,” says Paul Adamson, an infectious disease physician and assistant clinical professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles. “We have a huge amount of bacterial STIs in the US. Gay and bisexual men who have sex with men are disproportionately burdened by them. And we have not had a lot of tools that we can use to help.”

To understand why doxyPEP could be so significant, it’s important to consider what’s been happening with STIs. Briefly: They’re skyrocketing. Since 2017, according to the CDC, the most important of these diseases have reached historic highs: Gonorrhea has increased by 28 percent, and syphilis by 74 percent. And while chlamydia diagnoses haven’t quite returned to their pre-Covid levels, the agency worries that might be due to pandemic disruptions to care, rather than to an actual decrease in transmission. All of those infections have profound long-term consequences if they are not diagnosed and treated, including making people more vulnerable to HIV infection. Collectively, they cost the US health care system more than $1 billion per year.

Meanwhile, congenital syphilis—passed from mother to infant at birth, a sign that the pregnant person never received adequate prenatal care—caused 220 stillbirths and infant deaths in 2021, the last year for which there are national figures. Gonorrhea is gaining resistance to the last antibiotics currently available to treat it.

In medicine, prevention is almost always preferable to treatment: Vaccines and other prophylactic measures are less expensive, and can be planned in advance. So it has been a research goal to find uncomplicated prevention for STIs—something that, like the morning-after pill for pregnancy, can be taken a short time after sex and doesn’t rely on the user making decisions in the moment. 

The first test of doxyPEP, a small US trial that took place in 2011 and 2012, was published in 2015, and showed that HIV-positive men who took the post-exposure dose cut their rate of STIs by three-fourths. Fairly soon after that, social networks of men who have sex with men picked up on the findings, and began sharing knowledge about using preventive doxycycline off-label. A large 2017 French study of men using pre-exposure prophylaxis for HIV, known as PrEP, included within it a study of STI rates among men taking post-exposure doxycycline; it showed that doxyPEP could cut rates of syphilis and chlamydia infection by almost 70 percent. And last summer and this spring, the two largest international HIV conferences included presentations that confirmed the doses were successful in most circumstances.

Several of those presentations were drawn from the San Francisco and Seattle study just published in NEJM. Its results were so dramatic that the authors stopped the trial earlier than planned, in May 2022: They revealed that, among 501 men who were either living with HIV or taking HIV PrEP, consuming that single dose of doxycycline within 72 hours of sex without a condom reduced the combined incidence of the three major STIs by roughly two-thirds. 

“Our goal was to understand this in a real-world setting, in a heterogeneous population of people taking HIV PrEP but also living with HIV—which biologically aren’t different populations, but may be different in terms of sexual behaviors, sexual networks,” says Anne Luetkemeyer, one of the study’s principal investigators and a professor of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco. Combined with the French research, she adds, “we now have two studies that really showed very remarkably similar efficacy in this population.”

Those two sets of results may be enough to let doxyPEP enter mainstream medicine. In some places, it already has. Last October, San Francisco’s public health department became the first local department to support doxyPEP use in its jurisdiction. And after the NEJM paper, individual physicians tweeted they would begin prescribing doxyPEP because the results looked so solid—something they can do off-label because the Food and Drug Administration already approved the drug decades ago to treat a range of infections. 

When a new way of controlling a disease seems likely to enter the US mainstream, the CDC is expected to weigh in. So far, the agency hasn’t published official guidelines regarding the use of doxyPEP. Following the release of preliminary data at conferences, the CDC published “considerations for individuals and healthcare providers,” a strategy for sharing what’s known so far, as well as an acknowledgment that doxyPEP already is being used off-label. A CDC spokesperson told WIRED by email that formal draft guidance for physicians could come “by the end of the summer.” 

When that guidance does arrive, it isn’t expected to recommend doxyPEP for everyone. “We should consider offering this to people who have an elevated risk” of STIs, Luetkemeyer says. “And that group is men who have sex with men, on PrEP, or living with HIV, who've had a history of STIs. I think that's a reasonable group.” 

And eligible people may not want to take it. Like almost all antibiotics, doxycycline has side effects: sun sensitivity, diarrhea, serious nausea. And it hasn’t worked equally well for everyone. In the trial done in French men, the antibiotic did not suppress gonorrhea infections, even though it had a dramatic effect on reducing syphilis and chlamydia. In the one trial done so far among cis women, launched in Kenya in 2021, doxycycline prophylaxis (known in this case as dPEP) had no effect on suppressing STIs.  

That was disappointing; women who are at high risk of STIs need prevention as much as men do. Equally, it was mystifying for the researchers, who now are poring through their data to see what might have made a difference: whether the 449 participants had difficulty taking the drug at the right time, for instance, or whether doxycycline behaves differently in female organs than in men’s. “We had more than 200 women show up to hear the results, and they were so shocked and disappointed,” says Jenell Stewart, the study director and a physician-scientist and assistant professor at Hennepin Healthcare in Minneapolis. “We are very focused on understanding these results before we say this doesn’t work for women.”

One thing that might have played a role in Kenya and France—and is raising red flags for doxyPEP use in the US—is antibiotic resistance. Stewart says 100 percent of the gonorrhea isolates tested so far from women who became infected while on dPEP showed high levels of resistance to tetracycline, the drug family that doxycycline belongs to; at the time of the French study, the background rate of resistance in gonorrhea there was 56 percent. In the US, where doxycycline isn’t the first-line treatment for gonorrhea, the rate of resistance is only 20 percent. That may provide a clue to why doxyPEP worked better in the US trial than in any other. But it also immediately raises the concern that if doxyPEP goes into wide use, it might make resistance worse.

The US study could not provide an answer: Though some men in the trial did contract gonorrhea while taking doxyPEP, not enough testing was done to confirm whether their strains were resistant to the medication and thus not knocked out by the single dose. Tests did suggest the drug might be affecting other bacteria in participants’ bodies, but the results were contradictory.  Those taking doxyPEP ended up harboring 40 percent less staph bacteria—something that all of us carry—than those not taking the drug; but the staph they were still carrying showed “modestly higher” resistance. Whether killing some bacteria was more beneficial than making others potentially hazardous, the trial didn’t last long enough to say.

So the calculation inherent in doxyPEP may not be risk versus benefit, as much as it is risk versus risk: preventing an infection while provoking resistance through small doses, or contracting an infection that requires larger doses over a longer period of time. “We’re not comparing doxyPEP to no antibiotics,” says Adamson, who researches drug-resistant gonorrhea and has prescribed doxyPEP for some patients. “We’re comparing doxyPEP to potentially significant amounts of ceftriaxone, or penicillin, or doxycycline perhaps, if somebody’s getting infections a lot.”

It’s a question that research will have to answer—because, no matter how the CDC weighs in, doxyPEP use is moving ahead. Joseph Osmundson, a microbiologist and author in New York City—where STI rates are rising just as they are nationally—recently sought a prescription from his regular physician. As a queer sexual-health activist, he says, it only made sense, not only to prevent infections and antibiotic side effects for himself, but also to keep from increasing infection rates in an already overburdened city.

“When people want an intervention to have a healthier sex life, you cannot not give it to them,” he says. “Withholding the intervention will not prevent people from having the kind of sex that they enjoy. The question is: Are they going to be provided with as many interventions as possible to have that type of sex with less risk of infectious disease?”

[wreckingtickles]

Since I've been inactive for a while, and have made no progress on the multiple stories I've started, I'll just dump my 3 top spots for each MHA character from the Auction series, just to pretend I'm still of some use. I actually have charts for each of them, but since I'm still unsure about two characters spots and totals, I won't post them.

The rating goes 1-10, with 4 and below meaning "no reaction at all" and 10 being "strongest possible reaction for a normal person".

Bakugo: Bakugo's top spot is his ribs (10)... until he sweats, in which case, his feet go from a 9 to an 11, meaning he gets superhumanly ticklish! His pits are his third worst spot, scoring an 8 when "dry" and a 9.5 when sweaty. Oh, also, normally the best method to work his ribs is to dig in, but when he gets sweaty, scratching is just as bad. His total when "dry" is 68.5, making him the least ticklish of the bunch (he just has a few bad spots)... but also the most ticklish when he sweats, clocking in at a friggin' 84. This guy was made to be broken. Special spot: His palms are also kinda sensitive (5.5), or pretty sensitive when he sweats (7.5).

Inasa: Inasa's top 3 spots are tied at an 8.5: his chest, pits, and big toes. But honestly, I keep going back and forth on them, because, naturally, his thighs (8) also deserve an honorable mention. But squishy pecs command respect, and I like the idea of him having ticklish big toes, as in the How to Stop a Quirk series. As for his pits, well, he's a big guy, it's obvious. Overall, at a 74, he's one of the least ticklish of the bunch. Special spot: His back (6.5).

Kaminari: Now, I made a mistake with Kaminari's story, and I think I'll actually go back and change it: he's sensitive for sure, and definitely a major drama queen, but none of his spots should have been a 10 - he's just dramatic like that. It just feels like Bakugo, Kirishima, Midoriya and Todoroki all should have at least one spot that's more ticklish than his worst. Anyway, his abs and the back of his knees are tied for worst spot at a 9. We also have a tie for his third worst spots, the contenders being his sides, thighs, and his, uh... johnson. As for his total, the fact that he's so ticklish on the back of his knees (Special Spot) increases his total by +5, making him one of the most ticklish of the bunch at an 82.

Kirishima: Obviously, his death spot is his armpits (9.5), it's not even a contest. As much as he enjoys being tickled, it's just too much to take there. Second worst is his ribs (9), followed by his thighs (8.5). Like Inasa's, his back (Special Spot) is also sorta ticklish. His total is 78. Uh, kind of weird I've got so little to say about my 2nd favorite lee.

Midoriya: At an 83.5, this guy is just narrowly edged out by Bakugo at his worst. It wasn't even intentional, it's how the numbers worked out. Tumblr has convinced me he's most ticklish on his hips (10), followed by his pits and feet (9). Also, definitely the most feather-sensitive of the bunch (Bakugo is the least). Special Spot: This guy has no special spot because he's just ticklish everywhere, so he's got a +1 from his ears, neck, back of the knees, and back.

Ojiro: Overall, the least ticklish of the group, at a 71. His most ticklish spot is his butt (8.5), all the way to the base of his tail (but not just). Second worst spot is his abs (8). His V-line, pits, and chest are tied for third place (7.5).

Shindo: Deceptively sensitive, it's just that his Quirk has made him immune to certain forms of tickling. His nipples and bellybutton (Special Spot) are tied for first spot (9), and they are the exception to the rule because you need vibrations to make them sensitive. His V-line and johnson are tied for third place (8.5). His total, when vibrations are accounted for, is 74.5.

Todoroki: The numbers lie here, because Todoroki has 3 spots that are a 9+. His right side is generally more sensitive than the left, with a couple of exceptions. Averaged, his total is a mere 72.75, but his hot spots - pardon the pun - are truly hot: his left foot is a 10, his right side is a 9.5, and his left armpit is a 9. Any of these getting tickled will have him crying, as he's not used to the sensation at all.

#mha tickle #bnha tickle #my headcanons

[woso-fan13]

Alt. 4. Taking a Sick Day (day 25)

You would have smashed your alarm if you could have this morning. You work up feeling awful, an incessant pounding in your head and a junky cough. You had slept over 7 hours, but it felt like you hadn’t gone to sleep that night. Your body ached, and all you wanted was to go back to sleep. 

But it was only the third day of camp and you needed to prove to Vlatko that you could pull your own weight on the team. So you pulled yourself out of bed, noticing that your roommate must have already gone to breakfast, and got ready quickly. 

Once you are presentable enough, you grab your key card and begin the journey to breakfast. You lean against the wall in the elevator, trying to catch your breath. When the doors open, you find the conference room that breakfast is set up in and enter. 

You don’t even make it to a table before Emily and Lindsey have swooped in. Lindsey guides you to a chair with a gentle hand on your back, settling you in. The couple kneels in front of you, staring for a moment to try and get a read on the situation. Emily makes the first move, reaching up to feel your forehead. When you try to pull away, Emily places a firm hand on your head to keep you still. When you still try to wiggle away, she slips her hand under the neckline of your shirt, feeling your chest. It’s definitely warm from your fever, the face Emily makes showing her displeasure. 

Lindsey takes your distraction in stride, snagging your wrist and checking your pulse while you try to struggle away from Emily. Your heart rate was elevated, far above your normal 74 bpm. When she’s finished, Lindsey flips your hand over in hers, holding your hand and rubbing her thumb along your knuckles. 

After their thorough examination, the couple retakes their position in front of you. They look at each other for a minute, clearly having a nonverbal conversation. With a final nod from each of them, they look at you. 

“Sweetheart,” Lindsey starts, “why don’t you head back to bed. Em and I will drop you off some food before practice so you can get some more rest.”

You shake your head hard enough to leave yourself a little dizzy. 

“Why?” Lindsey questions. It wasn’t accusatory or demeaning, she sounded genuinely curious. 

“Cause I have practice too,” you explain quietly. 

“Y/N, you’re clearly sick, I don’t think you’re going to practice,” Lindsey tells you gently.

Tears well up slightly in your eyes, the bad news combining with the fever for an overly emotional combination. 

“‘m not.” you insist. 

Emily chuckles at your stubbornness, complete with your arms crossed across your chest. She reaches up, gently grabbing your chin in her hand. She guides you to look at her, keeping her hand in place. 

“Kiddo, you are. I know that you don’t want to miss practice, but I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

The tears win the fight, flooding out of your eyes and streaming down your face. Your breathing picks up, your congested lungs causing you to cough and sputter through your cries. The two women look at each other in concern. 

By this point, all of the attention in the room was on you. Becky walks up behind you, setting a hand on your shoulder. You startle at first, your choking sobs increasing, but you settle slightly when you recognize Becky behind you. Emily and Lindsey look up at her. Clearly knowing the silent question being asked, Becky nods her head. 

Emily and Lindsey stand up, Lindsey squeezing your hand tightly before letting go. They rush around the room, gathering everything they had brought down with them that morning. While they’re on their treasure hunt, Becky stays behind you. Her hand moves to your back, rubbing firmly to calm you down and ease your labored breathing. 

With all of their newly collected things, Emily and Lindsey reappear. They go to help you up, shifting their plans slightly when they see the way your legs wobble. Emily hands her bag to Lindsey, turning her back towards you. Lindsey guides you on, your arms and legs wrapping around Emily in a piggyback ride. Still struggling to control your breathing, you shove your head into the crook of Emily’s neck, soaking up the comfort you find there. With quick waves, the two women escort you out of the room and towards the elevator. 

The next few minutes are a blur, but you manage to end up in your room. You’re dressed in clean pajamas, your face wiped clean of tears, and your hair is pulled back into messy braids. Sitting on the bed, you look at the two players in front of you. They give you sad smiles. 

“I know that it stinks to have to take a sick day,” Emily commiserates, “but sometimes you have to. You’re clearly not well enough to practice today, you would only make yourself worse. And then you would be out of practice for even longer. So you need to take breaks when your body tells you to. Your body is literally screaming at you that you need to rest, you can’t ignore it.”

You nod, responding softly, “I know.”

Emily sighs, “I know that you know, you just need a reminder sometimes. Which is what we’re here to help with. We’ve got the day off of practice thanks to our lovely captain, so we’re going to stay in bed and watch movies. A proper lazy day.”

Before you respond, a soft knock is heard at the door. Lindsey gets up, opening the door to reveal a concerned Becky peeking in. She holds 3 to go boxes that she quickly passes off to Lindsey. After making sure that you’re okay, she tells all of you to enjoy your impromptu day off and leaves the room to get ready for practice. 

Lindsey brings the containers over to the bed, opening them to reveal breakfast. It’s clear which one is meant for you, the small portion of fruit and slice of cheese toast a harsh contrast from the meal everyone else ate. 

The other women eat, encouraging you to eat as well. You pick at your meal, finishing half before the others are satisfied. They hand you the remote, telling you to pick out something to watch. They take turns leaving the room to change into comfy clothes, settling into the bed on either side of you. 

Confused, you look between the two. 

“Practice starts soon, you guys have to go.”

“Didn’t you hear Emily say that we have the day off? Who did you think she was talking about?” Lindsey asks. 

“They canceled practice?” 

“No, but you’re sick and Em and I have to take care of a sick kid, so we don't have practice today.”

“You can’t skip practice for me,” you insist, more energized than you had been the entire morning, “you guys have to go.”

“No can do, ma’am. We’ve been given strict instructions from the captain to take the day off. I can’t imagine how many laps she would make us run if we showed up.”

All three of you shiver, thinking back to your personal punishments from Becky. 

“Now that we’ve got everything settled, let’s get the day started.” Emily nudges you as she speaks. “We’ve got a whole sick day schedule planned out.”

#uswnt woso #uswnt players #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #woso soccer #woso #womens soccer #woso imagine #reader insert #woso imagines #uswnt reader #woso x reader

[collapsedsquid]

However, this theory cannot account for the reality of service-based capitalist accumulation today. First of all, the category “services” lumps together a widely divergent range of sectors such as retail, hospitality, and transport, not to mention professional and personal services from education and health care to finance and real estate. Many of these sectors are productive in the Marxist sense of the term, generating surplus value, and indeed are extremely profitable. Second, the assumption that manufacturing possesses unique growth-inducing properties and capacity to scale doesn’t really make sense in the face of services based on information and communication technology (ICT), digital automation, and platform scalability. Third, Baumol’s model is outdated. Service workers represent a far greater proportion of the labor force today than they did in the mid-twentieth century when he developed that model. Baumol also uses a narrow set of service occupations as the basis for his theory, like beauticians and elementary school teachers. Taking the United States as an example, from the 1990s to the 2000s, jobs and productivity growth was mostly driven by ICT, logistics and transport, the retail trade, insurance, finance, and other services. Labor productivity in services grew at a rate of 2.6 percent a year between 1995 and 2001 — the rate for manufacturing was 2.3 percent — accounting for 73 percent of US labor productivity growth. The share of services in US GDP as a whole rose to 80 percent in 2007 from 60 percent in 1947. Service sector employment accounted for more than 83 percent of total employment in 2013, compared to 60 percent in 1947. Looking beyond rich countries, we can also see shifts to ICT-intensive service exports. In 2014, India was the largest global exporter of ICT services with a value of $74 billion due to both scale and productivity. Total factor productivity in the Indian service sector grew by 2.4 percent from 1980 to 2006 — twice the rate of industry and agriculture. We should not dismiss service industries as “stagnant sectors” of low-skill, low-wage jobs that are a drag on growth. Many countries around the world are seeing services contribute an increasing share of growth over time. Services may have historically played a small part in capitalist growth, often resisting mechanization as they remained outside the circuit of capital in domestic reproduction. But this is no longer the case today.

Going to have a rich highly-productive economy by having everyone be a Real Estate Broker or personal injury lawyer

[workersolidarity]

🇷🇺 🚨 ECONOMIC HIGHLIGHTS FROM RUSSIAN PRESIDENT VLADIMIR PUTIN'S PRESS CONFERENCE

🔻The Russian President highlighted the Russian economy, pointing to the different elements that make up economic strength: the first element is the unity of the Russian society; the second element is the stability of the economic system, in this regard, Russia has accumulated a sufficient margin of safety and stability; the third element is the growing capacity of the army and security agencies.

🔻main indicators of economic growth are stable; GPD is expected to grow 3.5% by end of year, compared with last year's -2.1%. Putin said returning to 3.5% would mean making up those losses and gaining on top of them.

🔻 Inflation has persisted and is expected to reach between 7.5-8%, with the Central Bank taking necessary measures to lower the baseline inflation rate.

🔻Industrial output increases steadily at 3.6%, while Manufacturing output has grown by 7.5% year-on-year.

🔻Investment in fixed capital has risen by 10%, indicating sustainable growth in the medium term. Investors provide capital, production expands, and new jobs are being created.

🔻Businesses have added 24% in profits, with banks earning over 3 million rubles by the end of year, which is good news for people who invest in Russian banks.

🔻Real wages, after inflation is accounted for, will grow at 8%. Though this will not be true for everyone, but on average across the Federation, this is true; while real disposable income is also increasing to around 5%.

🔻 The Unemployment rate has recently hit historic lows of 3%, and has now reached 2.9%.

🔻 The minimum wage will increase by about 18%, beginning January 1st.

🔻Foreign Debt is decreasing, indicating macro-economic stability; government debt has reduced from US$46 Billion, to US$32 Billion. While Private debt has decreased from US$337 Billion to US$297 Billion. Repayment is proceeding at a steady pace, often ahead of schedule.

🔻Considerable growth in Russian life expectancy from 70.06 in 2021, to 72.73 in 2022, and is expected to reach 74 in 2023.

#source

@WorkerSolidarityNews

#russia #russia news #russian news #vladimir putin #putin #president putin #russian politics #russian president #russian economy #russia economy #russia politics #politics #geopolitics #news #world news #global news #international news #breaking news #current events #world politics #global politics #international politics #economics #russian economics #us news

[elvisabutler]

happy we'll be beyond the sea

summary: elvis is a selkie, just like his mama was. colonel parker has been in charge of keeping his skin safe since his mama died. the colonel uses it to have elvis do whatever he wants him to do. until one day the colonel isn't the one who has the skin. someone else is. fandom: elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley | austin butler pairing: elvis x reader, past elvis x priscilla rating: m for a brief smut at the end. word count: 10, 727. i don't want to talk about it. i don't wanna talk about it. warnings: death mentions. mentions of elvis's poor health. mentions of seal skin. mentions of turning into a seal. really a lot of mentions of skin, because regrettably that is the basis of a selkie myth a lot of the time. me playing fast and loose with selkie myth to suit my own needs. elvis being a himbo. threatened violence toward the reader. overall bad things involving the international. gambling. period typical-ish misogyny implied. fingering. implied/fade to black p in v sex. author's note: so, welcome to the first of four creature au's i'm writing in october in addition to kinktober. i started off with selkie elvis because the international being a trap/tomb/prison is bookended with the vampire fic i'm ending the month on. i am not expecting a lot of y'all to read this because selkie aus are not massive in fandom but i've been a part of enough that have had them that i wanted to make one with elvis. you do not have to picture austin!elvis as i left it vaguely mismash-y between him and actual elvis. but i wanted to write this so i did. next week is mermaid austin, third week is gonna be incubus elvis and then halloween is vampire elvis. enjoy! also the jumpsuit i mention is a real jumpsuit that yes has a green/blue beaded version and a red beaded version, look up the spanish flower jumpsuit if you're curious about it. the green one has a scarf. i am now a sucker for elvis giving his woman a scarf. and this is set late '73/early '74-ish. fudging dates just a little to make things work for me. also do not come at me for inaccuracies with the myth, i have enough celtic blood running through my veins that i can do whatever i so desire with the myth, thank you very much. also if you want mood music, a lot of the time i listened to the navajo version of beyond the sea it's very relaxing. no pressure but i discovered it while writing this and i love it a lot.

"I wanna give you something, 'Cilla. Something that's gonna prove to you I won't stray now that we're together." Elvis says more excited than Priscilla's ever seen him.

"Elvis- we've been together-" And you've still fooled around but she ignores it because short of Ann-Margret no one else really has held a candle to her. "What's this gift you want to give me that's so important?"

"My skin." He answers without missing a beat before his eyes widen and he realizes what he said. "My seal skin, satnin."

"Your seal skin." She repeats slowly the words sinking in. He's told her about how he isn't human on more than one occasion, warned her that there's a possibility any kids they have might be that way but to hear him talk about a skin she's never seen is strange. "It's an actual-"

"Skin. Looks like a pelt- you- darlin' you haven't seen me as a seal, mama always said I was majestic. Like ink from one of those squids or whatever." Elvis is practically bouncing on his feet, looking every bit of an excited boy and not a man over thirty. "You're my wife, it's supposed to be yours. My daddy used to keep mama's until she- died, and she kept mine while I was on the road back in the day. She thought I was gonna lose it. I-I gave it to the Colonel after she died, told him he had to keep it real safe for me, that if I ever got married- if he wanted me to be that All-American man, I needed that skin in one piece."

"To give to me." She finishes his thought, knowing that's exactly where it was going. She's- it's not that she isn't flattered, she is, but Elvis had told her those myths so long ago that she figures just maybe she might need a refresher. "Why?"

"Sailors and fisherman, they used to bind selkie women to them by stealing their skin when they took it off." He starts, rubbing at his lower lip. "Made them be their wives even if they hated it. But sometimes if they got lucky they could give their skin to the person they loved to protect it and protect them. I won't stray if you got it, baby. Wouldn't be able to."

"At all." That sounds like a dream come true, actually, an Elvis Presley completely faithful to her. "The Colonel's going to give it back to you?"

"He's- Of course he is, Cilla why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's a- he reminds me of those fisherman you talked about just now."

"Nah, he- he knows I've been waiting to give it to you. Or whoever I got married if it wasn't you. Wouldn't dream of not letting me have it back. Ain't like I won't work for him without it."

"If- Alright, baby, if you say so, I'll- I'd love to have your seal skin. Your selkie skin? Kind of want to know what it feels like now."

Hawai‘i is never really a breeding ground for his type. Something about the water being too hot and the climate being too hot for his kind to thrive. But Elvis- Elvis finds that it’s one of the few places he feels at home, one of the few places he feels safe to be himself, to swim in his own skin. Maybe that’s why the Colonel had chosen there to make it so he was fully trapped, fully under his control. His mama had always told him to watch over it like a hawk because that’s- not watching for someone stealing it had gotten her into trouble even if it had all worked out in the end with his daddy and her. They might not have been in love maybe- Elvis doesn't like wondering- but they loved each other through his daddy being in jail and up until his mama passed. He hadn't minded the Colonel keeping his skin safe, after all he was just another father figure and Elvis figured he could trust him. In hindsight maybe that was a mistake.

Honestly Elvis has lost track of the last time he's actually seen his skin. Maybe it was that ill fated Hawai‘i trip when he was gonna show Priscilla how he looked as a seal, maybe it was the glimpses that the Colonel lets him see every so often to remind him that he was under his thumb, under his control because I've got your skin, my boy. He is a grown ass man who has to ask to go places that aren't just Vegas or the tons of cities he goes to on tour, sure he can go home, but he can't go to Hawai‘i without a fight and he can't try and go overseas. He can't just have a bit of time to escape.

Elvis can tell something's going on, that something's going very wrong with his body. His mama always told him that genetically he was predisposed to quite a number of things but being a selkie was supposed to help that help keep some of them a bay for the most part. But that was the tricky part though he hasn't been in selkie form for God knows how many years at this point. His body can't keep up he can tell at the rate he's going he's not entirely sure he's going to make fifty, the fact that he's made it to as close to forty as he has is feat in and of itself.

The midnight show was a little more draining today than it has been in a while and Elvis swears getting up off the floor feels like moving through a patch of quicksand. Jerry's the first one of the Mafia to notice, rushing to his friend's assistance.

"You good, E?" He asks as Elvis leans against him breathing a little heavier than he should five minutes after the show has ended.

Elvis contemplates lying before shaking his head. Jerry knows him better than anyone other than maybe George or Billy and he knows the werewolf would call him on his lying bullshit.

"Tired." A sigh escapes his lips as he says that before he licks his lips. "Should've swam earlier. Might've helped."

Jerry frowns noting how Elvis is practically dead weight against him and shifts his position to gain more of a hold on him, making sure the other man doesn't fall over or look completely like he's out of it. "Tomorrow morning, man. We'll clear out the pool for all of us, make a morning of it, you know the Colonel won't be up till 1 after his gambling binge tonight."

The response he gets back is a slight snore as for once in a blue moon Elvis fell asleep without needing to take something to make it happen. Jerry thanked God he had his strength otherwise dragging his friend to the penthouse would have been a feat he couldn't have easily accomplished. The band, the Sweet Inspirations and the Imperials are all staring at him as they pack up and Cissy pipes up.

"He alright?" She sounds worried and Jerry doesn't even blame her.

He shrugs as he starts always away. "Yeah, just needs some rest, all of you should get some rest, we're gonna try and spend some time at the pool if some of you wanna join."

Jerry knows he should see if anyone is saying they'll want to join but he knows he needs to get Elvis to the room in one piece so he focuses on that instead. It takes longer than normal, takes longer than it would if he wasn't half dragging Elvis but eventually they arrive in one piece as Jerry lightly slaps Elvis' cheeks to get him to wake up and shower. He stays in the room until Elvis pops back up still looking exhausted and flops onto the bed, his snores filling the room as Jerry leaves.

The next morning Elvis awakes with a start, wondering where he is until he sees a note from Jerry and a bagel. It used to be a rare occurrence that he felt so exhausted after a show that his body gave out, normally Dr. Nic had to pull something from his bag of tricks to knock him out but apparently last night was one of those nights that seem to becoming his monthly norm. Elvis stretches out on the bed, joints cracking as he gets up, grabbing the bagel and his robe before going to the window to look out st the sky. It's 10AM and Elvis sees the hustle and bustle down below by the pool, remembering how in his exhaustion he mentioned going for a swim. He still think he should have done it last night but acknowledges that maybe he was in a worse state than he believed he was so Jerry probably made the right call. Right now, though? Right now he finds that all he wants to do is to hop into that pool and shed all the stress he feels in his shoulders and chest and just float.

A quick call to the concierge to call everyone else's room and one fully eaten bagel later and Elvis is leaving the building, making his way to the pool. It's a small thing, nothing like the wide oceans of Hawai‘i but it'll do in the pinch he's in right now. It's just him for right now after everyone else had been cleared out, which reminded him he had to give all those guests something nice, he didn't- they didn't ask to be pushed out of their well earned pool time by him. By the time Jerry arrives with that sounds like George, maybe Joe and what he think might be Lamar, Elvis is already well into his swimming, laying flat on his back in the pool. His body feels stronger in the water, even if the smell of chlorine has his nose scrunching up. The calm is broken by a cannonball by his younger cousin and Elvis finds himself choking on the water as his mouth fills with it at the sudden jolt.

"Goddammit Billy!" He shouts once he's actually above the water and swimming over to him, splashing a bit of water at the man. "Give a man a warning, half drowned me over there."

Billy laughs as Elvis exits the pool in a bit of a huff. "You can't drown and we all know it!"

Elvis rolls his eyes as he grabs the towel on his chair and is about to sit down when he sees a woman he doesn't recognize walking to the pool area. His eyes don't leave her form as she walks around like she owns the place. He knows she doesn't, even if the management changed from Kohn. He knows that between the boys and the hotel, no one should be coming down here unless him or one of the Mafia asked for them to come, but from the look on everyone else's faces they're as confused as he is. This won't do, no, he might have felt bad about kicking everyone out, but he's not gonna feel bad about potentially kicking this woman out. Who did she think she was?

"You know this is a private party!" He shouts, making sure he has her attention before bothering to walk over to her.

For her part, the woman has the decency to look over at him and shrug before answering with her own shout as she unwraps her robe. "I don't see a sign, Mr. Presley! So, I think I'm going to go swimming!"

Elvis's eyes narrow before he shakes his head, walking over to her in large strides, taking advantage of every bit of his height. It only takes him a minute to reach the end of the pool she's at and when he does, he just looks at her as he stands between her and the pool. "Not without my permission you're not."

There's something about her, something about her air or in the air between them that makes his hair stand on end. It makes him think about the first time he met Priscilla or the first time he met Ann Margret or the stories his mama told him about the first time she met his daddy. Almost like he was supposed to meet her for some reason, for a good reason, not the shudder that had erupted from him when he met the Colonel for the first time. He doesn't take his eyes off of you.

Your eyes drift up and down his form, taking in wet body, noting the chest hair, the muscles and how he seems large, but not necessarily in a way that's pure fat. Just that all parts of him appeared larger than life. Your mind drifts back to the item you have in your hotel room, hidden to where no one but you can find and you wonder. A hum escapes your lips. "You're not my daddy, Mr. Presley. I don't need yours or any other man's permission to swim in a pool when I'm a paying guest, same as you. And I gamble, something I know you don't usually. Too busy shaking those hips on stage and kissing your audience silly. Someone has to keep this place in business when you're not here. It's mostly me."

"A woman with a gambling problem." He says, tone flat as he moves to touch your shoulder. "Now I definitely know you don't need to be swimmin' unless you ask nicely." He pauses. "You seen my show?"

"I was in the audience for the one where you got a little drunk, Presley." Your hand moves on top of his hand and grabs it to push it away. "I'm not that easily charmed after that."

It's not that Elvis isn't used to women turning down an advance or a touch from him, but coming from you his heart twists a little. Strange since he's just met you but he's thinking it's just from you mentioning that night. He frowns, looking away and off to the side. "Not- ya should come to another. That was a-"

"Special circumstance, Presley?" Not mister, almost like you're trying to test the waters.

"Somethin' like that. Found out some interesting news that night was all. Passed out before the show even." Elvis stops talking for a moment, seeming to realize that he is telling you things he wouldn't dream of telling a stranger all to defend his actions to you. It almost reminds him of how he was around Dixie back in the day. "All I'm sayin' is ya can't be judgin' after one bad show. Come t' tonight's. 8PM or 12AM."

You raise an eyebrow. "That's my prime time to win. Why would I-"

He cuts you off and pushes a stray bit of your hair out of your face, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long. "I'll make it up to you. 'specially if you don't like it."

Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation of his fingers against your cheekbones when he brushes the hair out of your face. You wonder for the briefest of moments if it feels the same way when he trails his fingers down to someone's neck. The question is on your tongue before you shake your head, forcing yourself to keep staring at his eyes in an effort to not back down.

"Are you offering to pay for me to take off tonight?" You ask before you purse your lips. You hadn't meant to make that sound as bad as it did if the laugh from behind you is any indication. Your cheeks heat up and you clench your jaw.

Elvis's eyes flit to your jaw before looking behind you and glaring. The words that come out of his mouth sound more like a booming sort of bark that has you reflexively flinching. "Billy! Keep laughing."

The man named Billy stops and Elvis turns back to you. "I am. Even the hardest working people deserve a night off. You deserve one, and I wanna show you a good time."

"At your show." You finish exhaling slowly as you do. "And if I say no?"

The man in front of you- if you want to call him that- frowns for just a moment before shrugging. "Then you don't swim."

"You're forcing me. Who do you think you are? Because all I see is a has-been who's wasting away in a hotel when last I remember hearing before your drunken ramblings about aliens, you wanted to go to Japan and Germany and everywhere. But I know you're going the second you leave here because you do it every year."

Elvis moves closer to you and looks you up and down. "I'm Elvis Presley, the man you can track like a bloodhound. 'm not forcing you to do anything, just come to the show, let me show you how good it is and you can do whatever ya want."

You huff and push your way past Elvis, tossing your robe onto an open chair and making your way to the deep end of the pool, sliding into it and under the water before you break the surface after you see Elvis standing over where you slid in. "Fine. Now can I swim? Or are you gonna pull me out?"

If his look turns a little heated, seeing you soaking wet in water while he's standing over you, he chooses to believe God would forgive him and that you wouldn't notice. "Have at it. Watch out for the idiots. Billy's fond of playing chicken. Fuckin' sucks at it, though."

Jerry by this point has left the pool himself and is sunning himself in the chair next to where Elvis plops down as you look at the two of them, your lip curling in what might be disgust. That's a new one for him. "She doesn't like you."

Elvis grabs the pair of sunglasses on the table that he knows Jerry brought down for him and spares a glance back at you, marveling at how the water slides down your back. His tongue darts out of his mouth like he wants to lick it off of you. He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, you had him acting like a teenage boy with those thoughts and some desire to not immediately act on them. "Yet, Schilling. Yet."

He snorts. "Yet. In your dreams, EP."

You don't want to go, you have been dreading going all day since you climbed out of the pool after your swim. Elvis had tried to talk to you a few times in the pool, only for you to rebuff him with splashes of water and eyerolls. His entourage left the pool area first and you think that means he's going to follow them before you see a shadow blocking the sun from you. You sigh. "Elvis get out of my sunlight."

"What color are you wearing?" He asks not even making a single attempt to move.

"I'm not matching you." A pause, because honestly, you might not be matching him but what's the harm in lying to him about the color any way. "Turquoise."

His lips curl into a smile and despite your frustration at the man you can't help the way you stop breathing for a moment at seeing that look directed toward you. Lord have mercy who gave him the right to look like that and be as much of a pain as he had been that morning. "Turquoise. You'll look a goddamn vision in it. Won't- I'll see you tonight."

"Maybe!" You call out to his retreating form.

As it turns out you hadn't completely lied to Elvis, you were wearing something that had turquoise beads on it it to offset the complete void of black that it was. You thought it was cute and it had brought you a bit of luck at the tables from time to time so you didn't see the harm in it until you found yourself being met at your table by one of the men Elvis surrounded himself with- Jerry, you think his name was- and you saw how his eyebrows raised at your dress and your platform shoes.

"Did- Did EP buy you that?" He asks before shutting his mouth and wincing when he realized what he said.

"No?" You answer, confusion coloring your tone as you narrow your eyes. "Why?"

Jerry can't help the laugh that escapes him as he shakes your head. "You'll- I- I can't tell you, you'll see when the show starts. Get comfortable. E wants you to enjoy tonight, sent me out here to make sure you do."

"I don't need a babysitter." Which was true, but at the same time, the company would prevent other people- people who'd likely want a word with you over their losses from bothering you. "But if you're going to be here, I'll tolerate it. Is my tab on him too?"

"It is." He murmurs as the house lights start to dim.

The second you see Elvis you realize what Jerry had meant. You were matching, your lie had meant that he picked a jumpsuit with turquoise detailing and was black. You want to be horrified but it's strangely flattering knowing that Elvis wanted to have you match somehow, not that he had known you were going to essentially be wearing a dress version of his jumpsuit. You spare a glance at Jerry who is laughing at your gasp. He waits until Elvis is saying something to the audience and staring right at the two of you to whisper something to you.

"Don't know what it is about you, but I haven't seen him this excited for a while. Not telling you to give him a chance or make it easy for him, but hear him out. He's- he's been through some stuff and it's getting to him."

Once again your mind drifts to what Parker had been forced to give you when he lost and the myths you've heard offhandedly from plenty of drunks. You wonder if that has something to do with it. that had to be it, you weren't the kind he went for anyway. Even if you think you'd go for him just for the hell of it. You sigh.

"This is a one time thing, Mr. Schilling. I can't be coming here night after night. I'm just as busy as him."

Jerry hums as he sees the house lights start to light back up and Elvis launches into what you swear is an actually entertaining routine about wanting to see the audience. You're almost not paying attention to who he's pointing out until he mentions your name and you wince at the bright light on your face.

"Sorry 'bout that, darlin'. Forgot to give you warning. But look at her, isn't she a beauty, didn't realize we were gonna be matching. Thought you were wearing turquoise, baby!" He jokes as the audience laughs with him.

Your embarrassment with the situation has your shoulders tensing up and you want to not answer, you want to run but you're an adult and you know very well that there's enough people in here who you play with that if they see you blink in this situation they'll never take you seriously again. So you don't blink.

"So did I! Left it in Memphis?" You joke, smiling your most charming smile as you do a twirl so everyone can really see you do look like you're his matching girl.

"Hawai‘i!" He answers back before motioning for you to come up the stage. "Let her by, everyone! Gotta give her something to cover up that gorgeous neck."

You look confused for a moment before you make your way up to the stage. This entire thing was getting way too weird for your tastes, you had just met Elvis and here he was trying to make the audience be charmed by you like he planned on you being by his side for a while. What did he think that you were gonna join his little Memphis Mafia as the resident gambling woman? A few members of the audience were still a little too close and you found yourself pushing at least two of the women away when they tried to grab at your dress like they were going to steal it right off your body.

Elvis is looking at you from the stage and when he sees the women try and pull off your dress he almost hops off of it to defend you and protect you. Strange, but at this point he's beginning to realize everything about you and his reactions to you is a little strange.

When you finally reach the stage, he takes off his scarf, it's sweaty and he knows it is but somehow knowing you'll smell like him, knowing people will see his scarf and know that you're off limits. How off limits exactly he doesn't know. All he knows is he wants to see you with something of him wrapped up around your neck. His eyes flit to your neck as soon as you take it from him, your fingers brushing his, causing his body to flush more than it already was from the exertion of the show. If the brush of his fingers illicit the same reaction in you it doesn't show beyond a brief inhale. You noticed how his eyes flit to your neck though and despite the sweatiness you end up tying the scarf almost immediately around your neck perhaps a little tighter than you should, but you didn't trust the audience members to not try and pull it off you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lip when he notices how tight you tied it before he chuckles. "Y/N, everyone! Ain't she a good sport. Go on back to your seat, doll!"

You didn't even wait for his permission, your backside already turned to him, your dress swaying with your hips as you slid in between everyone. No one cares what you have to say but you can't resist the response. "Not your doll, E!" Not Elvis, not Presley, not even EP, just E.

If the rest of his show seemed like he had the energy of two men- well, you chose not to notice it. You do have to give Elvis credit, though, he wasn't wrong about the night you had seen before not being his best work. This was something else, he commanded a room the way you commanded a table. It has you clenching your thighs together and has your lips twisting into a frown when you realize it. Jerry doesn't say anything about how you keep shifting in your seat except for the occasional sniffle and small huffs that leave his lips. By the time the show is done, you're already standing up, ready to leave when Jerry grabs your arm.

"You should come backstage." He says, motioning to the curtain. "I know he's going to want to see you after that."

Your hand moves on top of his and you pull it off as you shake your head. "If Elvis wants to see me, he can come find me. I'm sure the hotel staff would let him know my room number. Now if you excuse me, Mr. Schilling, I still a few more hours to enjoy my night. Do me a favor and tell him that he might be right, I shouldn't have judged him off that show."

Jerry lets you walk away even though he knows Elvis is going to hate it because this is something else. The whole thing is strange, you smelt faintly like Elvis before he put the scarf on you and yet- he was going to get to the bottom of this eventually but in the meantime maybe it wouldn't hurt to make Elvis work for you.

Two weeks later and you're beginning to think Elvis has forgotten about you. Sure, he gave you the scarf and seemed bound and determined to get you to like him but he hadn't found you yet. His manager had on more than one occasion, trying to win back the skin, but the joy was that Colonel Parker absolutely did not know when to quit when it came to wins. He had won it several times over only to lose it again that same night. It'd be tragic if you didn't find it hilarious to watch.

It's about 10AM when you hear a knock on your door. Strange, but not entirely unheard of, it might have been room service for all you knew. What greeted you had you stopping in your tracks.

Elvis looks good- better than he had two weeks ago and you wonder if it's makeup or something like a diet pill or some drug. No one looks that good after looking as bad as you've heard he's been lately. Then again, most of your knowledge had been from tabloids so maybe he wasn't that bad off. Your eyes drift down his form, taking in the suit with no undershirt, the belt with a buckle bigger than your whole hand and his boots. When your eyes drift back to his face he tries to blow his bangs out of his face before he grins. "You are a hard woman to find. You pay off the front desk staff? Because goddamn they wouldn't tell me a thing."

Your mouth opens and closes in quick succession before you finally squeak out an answer. "Nope. You're- You've been looking for me?"

"Every morning." He answers honestly, looking at your unmade bed and back at you. "Am I interrupting something?"

You turn to figure out what he was looking at before your eyes widen and you bite back a laugh. "Are you asking if I have company?"

He has the decency to look a little guilty before he nods. "I am. From that giggle though, I'm thinking you don't."

You nod back and fully start to laugh. "Unlike some people, I'm not known for sleeping with strangers."

Elvis purses his lips and shakes his head. "Lord help me, I don't know why- you are-" He takes a moment to breathe and he swears he smells the sea when he feels the breeze from your open window waft air out to the hallway. Impossible because you're both in Vegas but he knows that smell. It smells like- it smells like his skin used to. "What about talking to 'em. 'specially since you've got my scarf."

Your eyes flit to your nightstand where the scarf is and you pray to every deity he hasn't seen it. You shouldn't tell him yes, you should just let him have his scarf back and be done with it but you're thinking that's still not going to solve the problem so you shrug.

"By the pool, E?" A neutral spot, and one you figure you both feel comfortable being by.

"Already got a party going 'till one down there. It's a date." He turns to leave before he looks back at you. "I don't know if that's a candle or what but- your room smells like the sea. I like it."

Your eyes widen momentarily before you stutter out a thank you and shut your door before running to the closet. The skin is still there, still looks healthy- honestly looks healthier than it was when you first got it and you jump back like you've been burned. You were no expert on any of this but this- this was weird. Still, you had to grab your swimsuit and head downstairs. After all, he wanted to pretend this was a date and you hated being late for those.

As it turns out, Elvis wasn't bad. You learn this after the first morning in between laps around the pool and interruptions from various people. You learn the real basics of him that day. But as the weeks go on and turn into months you learn about his charitable works, about how his gaudy house was actually bought for his mother and on one memorable day how he hates every single one of his films including your favorite.

"Viva Las Vegas! Oh come off it-" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "That- Love Ann Margret."

"Yeah, everyone knows you did. But I really liked it. Especially that scene when she let you fall into the pool." You grin, grabbing some water with your hand and splashing it at Elvis's face.

"Oh, you just like me all wet, I see how it is, darlin', that's really why you chose the pool wasn't it." He asks, leaning over like he's about to kiss you.

You inhale sharply. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

His hand moves to untie the scarf you wear out of habit at this point, his scarf you wear out of habit at this point and lets his fingers trace your neck when he does. "Not even if I ask real nicely, mama?"

It occurs to you that if you didn't have his skin, if you didn't know that you had his skin this would be easier. You'd feel less like you're taking advantage of him, but you feel that way, you know the basic myth, you know this has to be tied to it somehow. Still, his hand is touching your neck and you know your pupils have to be dilating by now and- your chest feels like it's in a vice grip before you manage to guip and speak. "Not even then."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks as his hand moves up to your cheek and you swear you stop breathing before you find yourself nodding against your better judgment.

Elvis's lips are soft and that surprises you for reasons you don't quite understand. They dominate the kiss and you don't know if it's because Elvis is the more dominant one- barely- out of the two of you or if it's because they're just larger than yours. You mean for it to stay chaste, you do, but then you can feel his tongue pressing against your lips and you open your mouth to let him in, your tongue dancing with his own. On instinct, you nip at it, something you've always done with partners and earn a groan from him. You're both on the edge of the pool and everyone else is there but without even missing a beat, Elvis moves to climb on top of you, half shielding you from everyone's eyes but also allowing himself the pleasure of pressing against you.

"Elvis-" You breathe out when he pulls away trying to steady his breathing. "We're- by the pool, everyone's here. I'm pretty sure they're staring."

He shakes his head. "They've seen worse. I've seen them do worse, just- let me kiss you, darlin', please. It feels- you feel like home. Feel like I did back when I-"

He trails off and you find that it worries you because you feel him tense above you. "Back when you what?"

Back when he had his skin? He's- his manager has had his skin, he had been married not that long ago, what does he even mean by that. You needed to- he needed to have the skin back if it was causing him to feel like this with you for no reason.

"I can't- I won't tell you right now. After the show tonight, darlin'. I'll tell you after the show if you wanna know still." He shakes his head and starts to pull away. "I. It's getting close to one. Darlin' do you have a dress like that one you wore to my first show. That black one."

"I have it with red stones? Won it off a businessman. Why?" You're fully confused now, wanting to ask what's going on and why Elvis is seeming skittish now when he had just been wanting to kiss you. Had he realized what was going on? Or what might be going on?

His lips curl into a smile. "It was like you were tailor made for me. It's the same for me. I was planning on wearing the one with my red stones. Come to the show, I'll give you my scarf before it. I just need my- I need you to match me."

"Kiss me some more and I will." You give him a small smile when you speak, grabbing at his cheek and watching him nuzzle into it not unlike the seal you know he is inside.

"Okay." He whispers leaning back down and closing the distance between you.

The Colonel sees you backstage before Elvis does and gives you a once over before grabbing your arm and attempting to move you to where no one can see the two of you before Jerry actually catches him.

"Let her go." Those three words have the Colonel dropping your arm like you scalded him before he glares at Jerry and leaves, leaving you to rub at your arm. You open your mouth to explain before Jerry waves you off.

"I know how bad his gambling gets. None of my business how much you took him for as long as- maybe you can find a way for it to get back into EP's pocket."

It really should be his business is what you want to tell him before Elvis spots you, practically running over and picking you up in a hug before twirling both of you until he sets you back down. "You came and you match me, darlin'. Don't know if I like you more in the black and blue or this one." His hands move to his neck, pulling off his scarf and tying it around your neck loosely. His breathing quickens just a hair seeing his scarf around your neck before he shakes his head. "You look perfect."

It's hard to make you feel bashful but in that moment you can't help the way you look down and kick at the floor like a schoolgirl. "Could say the same for you."

"Aw- no need to flatter me, you've already got me-" He stops himself and leans a little closer to murmur in your ear. "I'll meet you in your room after the show. Shower, maybe get a little dirty with you? Continue what we were doing at the pool?"

Your only answer is a hum and a smirk and Elvis knows that's a yes. Knows by now that you doing that is how you say yes when you don't want to admit it. He takes a deep breath and realizes he smells the scent of sea water once again. It's in your clothes this time, it's in the dress. He wants to ask you what the deal is- why your dress smells like sea water and like home, but Jerry's pulling him away and you're waving at him with a blown kiss. It's silly but he makes a move to catch it and you laugh.

The show is phenomenal as always and while you notice Elvis is distracted by something- someone maybe, he still puts on the show you've begun to expect. By now you've seen or heard Elvis talk about the end of his show that you know how it goes so you let yourself slide out the back of the showroom and make your way to your room, humming "Can't Help Fallin' In Love" to yourself as you do. You know you need to tell him, know that he deserves to know that you're the new owner of his skin, that you've been trying to figure out how to give it to him, but his promise of something more tonight has you thinking it can wait until tomorrow morning before your daily poolside chat. It feels like a lifetime before Elvis arrives at your room and in that time you've undressed, leaving yourself with nothing but your underwear and dark blue robe with your initials printed on the pockets and on the lapels. Elvis knocks once, twice, three times before you answer the door, pulling him in before kissing him softly.

"Shower." You say simply.

As soon as the door shuts Elvis is overcome with the overpowering scent of seawater that he keeps smelling near you and he stops as he heads to the bathroom to make sure he doesn't see any candles before shaking his head. He's got to be losing it. This- it's almost like how the Colonel's room used to smell with his skin hidden in it. But that was impossible, you couldn't have his skin. His shower doesn't take long, his anxiousness and desire to talk to you forcing him to rush through it. When he comes out of the bathroom he finds you lounging on your bed, looking a bit tired. He considers the merits of not telling you, debates if you're coherent enough to hear what he has to say before he realizes that no- he needs to tell you. If he wants to move forward with you- you need to know.

He slides next to you in the bed and leans on his arm to face you. "I'm a selkie." He pauses, realizing that he offered no preamble to go with that. "It's-"

You tense next to him the second you hear the words come out of his mouth and turn your body to face his, cutting him off with a finger to his lips. "I know what it is. Human who can turn into a seal with a skin. Or vice versa, I don't know which is the default."

"How do you- how do you know what a selkie is?" His voice wobbles a little, like he's terrified to hear your answer.

A breath leaves your body in a rush before you bite your lip as if you're thinking, plotting really and Elvis face is morphing into one of genuine panic and worry. "Baby, why do you know what a selkie is? How?"

"I've played with a lot of men who know the legends." You answer in a rush, biting your lip once more. "I- They've told me about them. Your manager told me about it too. Elvis- what does it matter- I know I don't mind it's fine-"

He cuts you off, his eyes flashing and the blue you swear turning into a stormy sea. "Parker- that toad- where is it? You don't feel like home because you're supposed to be with me, you don't smell like the sea because you might be a great seal wife. You- Where is it?"

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me!" Elvis shouts practically jumping off the bed before starting to go through your drawers, tossing your clothes as he does. "Where is my goddamn skin, woman?! I will- Just tell me where my skin is, darlin' I don't want to hurt you but I need- I haven't had my skin for a decade and you've had it for a month after winning it off the man who was supposed to protect it. Give me back my skin!"

You're sure that your neighbors think you're a murderer with how loud Elvis is shouting about his skin but you don't care, more preoccupied with making sure Elvis doesn't hurt you or wreck your room too much in his search. You get it- you get how this must be horrifying and frustrating but he's actively scaring you with how he looks, how you feel he's every bit of a deadly seal ready to kill you for keeping him away from what's rightfully his.

"Closet." You whisper before watching him storm to it. You don't dare get up from the bed and so you only hear his victorious shout and hear the somewhat anguished sobs coming from inside your closet for a few minutes until you see him come out holding the almost pure black pelt with only a few white spots. He doesn't bother to look at you as he heads to the door, still looking as angry as he did when he first walked into the closet.

"Keep the scarves. It's gonna be as close as you ever get to touching my skin ever again." He spits out before opening your door and slamming it hard enough the picture frames on the wall rattle.

You lock the door and sink to the floor and cry.

A month goes by and Elvis had left the building, an emergency trip back home everyone had said until the pictures of him in Hawai‘i prove that to be false. You've been on a losing streak and you blame it on Elvis. On his scarves, on his kisses on the knowledge that he had charmed you only to leave you because you didn't tell him that you had his skin. It's on one of your losing streak nights that you hear whispers about Elvis having a show tonight and you can't help the laugh that leaves you at hearing that. You can't help the way it makes your heart twist inside your chest and makes you want to crawl into a hole.

You excuse yourself from that table, realizing you've lost enough tonight and realizing that you'd like a drink. You're not paying attention to where you're going and you find yourself bumping into a body you've become relatively accustomed to.

"Y/N." He breathes out once he steadies you and takes a good look at you. His eyes drift over your form, noting how your hair is unkempt and you look almost like- well like he did when you first met him. Maybe- no.

"Elvis." You murmur, leaning against him, taking in his scent, that sea scent that had left your room two weeks ago and lead to crying jag that left you in bed for two days. As much as it felt like home to Elvis- it called to you in what was perhaps a similar way. "You look healthy. Good. The- Your skin helped you. That's good."

His eyes narrow, realizing you're smelling him. If he was honest with himself, and he rarely is, he hasn't stopped thinking about you while he was in Hawai‘i. Even without his skin you felt like the sort of woman he could be with and who could keep up with him. It's not like he hasn't loved Priscilla and Ann Margret and anyone else he's been with but you were different. You caught him off guard and you felt like the person he was supposed to entrust with his skin all along. Seeing you like this? Seeing you worse for wear because he left the way he did has his heart twisting in his chest and has a growl against himself brewing. He had hurt you, twisted you into something he didn't like seeing.

"Being around you before-" he left, before he realized that you had what he had dreamed about getting back for over a decade and you took such good care of it. "You helped a little."

Your head moves from his chest as you wave him off. "That was all you. I heard the stories, you'd sleep all day stay awake all night. You were the one at the pool that first day."

He gulps and his hand moves to your back, holding you in a hug, his hand rubbing up and down. He can't help the way his nose buries itself into your hair. You still smell like the sea to him. "Only kept going because that's where you wanted to meet."

A laugh bubbles up from deep inside you and you pull away as you laugh like the idea is the funniest thing known to man. "You can't- You can't say stuff like that, Elvis. I'm- I'm going to go back to my room. You have fun down here. With- it's- you're done with your shows tonight aren't you? Just have fun here then. Win some money off of Parker. Oh, that'd be funny."

Elvis pauses and grabs your arm as you start to walk away. "I'm walking you to there."

You look at him like you want to argue before you see that there isn't room to argue. He's already waving off Jerry and Lamar and Billy so it's just the two of you. The idea of being alone with Elvis is not necessarily something you want because you don't trust your tongue and brain to listen to you about how you don't want to tell him how much you missed him. You feel pathetic about how much you missed him because he doesn't look like he missed you at all. Sure, you two had only really known each other for a month but you knew things about Elvis no one else did and you had told him a few things about yourself that you wouldn't tell someone on your deathbed. Being around him felt right even now, felt comforting even now. Elvis moves his hand from your arm, a good thing because you swear you felt his rings starting to dig into the flesh and moves it to your waist, pulling you against him as he walks both of you steadily to your room. The desire to lean against him is too strong just from the feel of his rings against your waist so you let yourself indulge in it, leaning against him like he's the only thing keeping you from falling. You hear a sharp intake of breath from him before he grips your waist tighter, almost as if he never wants to let you go. What a pipe dream.

Your room door comes into view too quickly for your liking and you almost want to tell him that it's not your room any more but you know he's not an idiot. Some people may think he is, but you know the truth, you know the brain underneath that gorgeous hair. You open your mouth to speak first before Elvis turns to face you, his hands moving to push back your hair on both sides.

"Ya look like shit, doll." A simple comment but one that has you shaking your head and biting your lip before looking down. He's not admonishing you but it certainly feels that way.

"No one to impress here for the past month." You answer, knowing fully well he can connect the dots. "And when I lose I don't- treat myself kindly, I told you that the day Billy convinced Lamar to toss you in the pool while he tossed me in."

His lips quirk into a smile at the memory before he shakes his head, frowning. "You- I did a lot of thinking while I was gone."

A hum as you make a move to unlock the door so you're not having what feels like might be a very important conversation in the hallway. It opens easier than you think and you motion for Elvis to go in as you respond with an attempt at a joke. "Don't do that, you might hurt yourself."

The second you're both inside the room, Elvis shuts the door with his foot and leans against it, putting just a little bit of distance between both of you. "Wouldn't be the first time." He takes a few deep breaths, noting that your room doesn't smell like the sea breeze, but it still feels like home- still feels like he's supposed to be there. "But I-I- I came to the realization about somethin'."

Your eyebrow quirks up and you tilt your head questioning what he means by that without saying a word. He takes that as permission to continue.

"I've had that skin my whole life. I've seen- my mama shouldn't have been married to my daddy. Maybe they loved each other but it- it was complicated. I didn't think about it beyond protecting her and all but she always told me to make sure whoever had my skin knew to protect it. Told me to make sure that I was- that I trusted the person I was going to let have that power over me. Made the mistake of giving it to the Colonel, but then you- you won it from him. Jerry told me that- told me how you won it and how you kept winning it back when he tried to get it back and- baby, I don't think you know how much that means to me. How much-" He pauses, taking a breath or several to collect himself. "Priscilla couldn't get it from him, everyone couldn't get it from him and we tried, oh God did we try and I thought this is it, I'm gonna die because I'll be seperated from my skin for so long. I'll waste away because that toad won't let me go. I resigned myself to it."

Your throat tightens as you try and swallow your saliva, and you feel your nose starting to run and your eyes start to burn but you have to say something. "But then I- I got the skin."

He nods, his own eyes looking glassy but not because of any drug. "You got my skin. You got it and you hid it because you- I'd have thought you stole it if you gave it to me right after. But you kept it safe and mama, you smelt- You smelt like you rolled in me, Jerry thought I had fucked you the moment you watched that first show you smelt so much like me. I thought Priscilla was home and she was when we were together, I'll admit that right now, I still love the woman and she gave me my little pup of a baby seal. But you- I don't think it was just the fact that you had my skin that made you feel that way. I- Getting to know you without knowing that you were holding something that could tie me to you- somethin' that I've had used against me for so many years- I- I think I'm in love with you. I think you were always supposed to be the one to get it. Supposed t' protect it with your own life."

"No-" You start before he's waving you off and moving up off the door.

"Don't ya be telling me whatever bullshit I know you're about how I'm an idiot, because I know you think I'm one. I'm the selkie here, I'm the one thinking about givin' you back my skin so that when I'm here, when I'm with you I smell a sea breeze and when I touch you- you feel like the warm waters of Hawai‘i against my skin and I know that somehow you'll make sure I live a long and healthy life wherever it is." Elvis closes the distance between the two of you and by this point you're crying, you're crying because none of this makes sense. Elvis Presley doesn't forgive like this- you've heard the horror stories, you've seen how he barely interacts with his manager any more after they used to be thick as thieves. You had to listen to the Colonel talk about how it was supposed to be the Showman and the Snowman but now Elvis doesn't want to be so tied to him after his betrayal.

"I'm- You- Elvis don't play." You choke out, rubbing at your eyes like that's going to hide the fact that the more he speaks the more you feel tears just pouring out of you. "It stopped smelling like the sea two weeks ago and I-"

He pulls you into his arms and you find yourself just taking deep breaths trying to calm yourself. You focus on the feel of his rings gliding against your skin as he rubs your back and shushes you murmuring what feels like sweet nothings in your ear. "I'm here, I'm not- I won't swim away, darlin'. I came back. I'm back. I'm here. Gonna finish up my residency, this last one here and I'm gonna- I'm gonna take you wherever you want. You're gonna protect me and I'm gonna protect you. Gonna spoil you, gonna swim with you."

"Are you giving it back to me?" It's the first thing that comes to your mind when he's murmuring all those things and making you feel like you want to cry even more even as it's strangely comforting to hear. "Are you giving me back your-"

"It's in my room. I'm gonna move you up there, you're gonna tell me the best spot in there for it to be and it'll just be me and you who knows it's there." A pause. "Yeah, baby, I'm givin' you back my skin. I'm- I'm not asking you to marry me or nothin' but you'd make a good seal wife."

That last sentence, that moment of hearing Elvis call you a good seal wife, as dumb as it sounds to anyone else listening has you pulling away just enough that you can kiss at Elvis's neck and up his jaw before you reach his lips. It's a gentle kiss as if you feel like if you do more he really will swim away never to return. You realize you shouldn't have worried when Elvis deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he nips at your lips before pulling away, breathing heavier than he was before, his eyes starting to be taken over by his pupil.

"Can I show you what I wanted t' do with you that night?" He asks, searching your face for any hint of a no. "How I wanted to lay you on your bed, kiss every inch of you and see you moan and bounce on my cock."

You shiver and it's not because of any cold breeze before nodding and whispering your answer with a nuzzle against his chest. "Please. I missed you."

That's all the permission he needed as he picks you up like you're nothing and drops you on the bed, and climbs on top of you, his hands moving to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up slowly over your body and over your head, exposing your silk underwear to him and earning a groan of appreciation.

"Didn't have anyone to dress up for but you're wearing something as soft as me." He says in between kisses down your neck as his fingers move to feel your cunt, noting how just with a few kisses and his presence you're practically soaked. "You missed me that bad. Didn't ever touch you and you're-"

You mewl at his touch, feeling a slight burn at both of his fingers before you move your head to the side and shake it as if you don't want to admit what you're about to say. "I touched myself that afternoon, after the pool. I wanted you so bad that night. Was gonna tell you about the skin the next morning. Thought I was going to lose you for good, E."

His fingers still in you at those last words and you briefly think you've made a mistake before you feel the press of his lips and the press of his tongue against your lips as a reassurance that you didn't. He bites your tongue softly, remembering like he has for the past week how you did it to him and you let out a soft moan as he curls his fingers just so.

"Didn't lose me for good, baby. I'm right here. Gonna be with you for for good if you'll have me." He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again, his fingers sliding in and out of your core.

"Promise?" You ask as you buck up, feeling Elvis's thumb against your clit, pressing hard against it before rubbing a soft circle.

"Promise." He answers, his head moving down to your neck, until he stops at your chest, peppering kisses across it and moving a cup down just enough to expose your nipple. "You can make noise, mama. Wanna hear you, want everyone to know you're taken, want everyone to know you've claimed me. Trapped the selkie on dry land because he's happy for once."

If there was a response you had, it's overtaken by the groan you let out at the feel of Elvis's tongue against your nipple. The flick of it, the warmth of it drowning out anything other than you and him and your bodies. You hear the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and your body heats up more if it's even possible. You didn't know you could be that wet for anyone and yet here you were feeling as if you're going to leave a puddle on the sheets. He pulls away just enough to blow a puff of air against your nipple as his thumb swipes just so and you find yourself shouting, your vision whiting out for just a moment as you feel his hand grip your hip to steady you. It's- You never come that quickly, a frustration for most of your partners and yourself but you think- no you're almost positive that Elvis has helped you reach an orgasm in no time flat. You'd be embarrassed if the thought didn't feel so hot.

He speaks first. "You came."

You nod slowly, your eyes struggling to focus on Elvis before you trust your tongue enough to form words. "I-You're very good." A pause. "I can go again. I want- that was too short. I want to feel more of you."

Elvis pulls his fingers out of your cunt, his eyes watching how it clenches around nothing as he pulls them out. It is a sight he wants to commit to memory and a sight he wants to spend the rest of his days seeing day in and day out. He doesn't say anything, instead choosing to stick his fingers in his mouth, his tongue sliding across them before he pulls them out and moves to touch your lips with them. "We've got all night, darlin'. Now be a good girl and taste yourself on my fingers, will you?"

Your tongue is out before he even finishes the command.

Later on that night, when you're curled against Elvis, your hand playing with his chest hair and his hand is petting your hair as you both half pay attention to whatever movie is on the television screen you find that being with him feels comfortable, like you've shed your walls or the hardened skin you normally present to everyone. You wonder if that's just because he's that charming or if perhaps there is something supernatural at play.

"You're thinking too much right now. Thought I fucked that out of you tonight." He murmurs against your hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"Sorry, it only works for an hour, then I'm right back at it." You joke softly. "What were you going to tell me that night? About how I felt?"

Elvis stiffens just a tad before he hums and you can hear his head hit the headboard softly. You almost start to tell him he doesn't need to answer before you hear his sigh. "You felt like home. Felt like Tupelo and Graceland and the sea around Hawai‘i all rolled into this package of a woman who accidentally matches my jumpsuits without me buying the damn dress for her. You felt perfect for me."

There's a burning in your eyes you don't want to acknowledge but you can't help the way you sniffle at the comments before you speak. "And now?"

"Didn't change." He starts simply before his hand moves to rub your back and pull you closer to him. "You are perfect for me. We're gonna protect each other. Gonna do what we want when we want it and if they don't like it we'll go somewhere else."

Your lips upturn into a smile at that and you snuggle into Elvis' chest just a bit more. "I'm holding you to that tomorrow morning."

He chuckles and it fills your whole body with a warmth you only associate with a hot cup of tea. "You can hold me to that for the rest of my life, darlin."

"We'll see."

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fluff #kind of? #elvis 2022 #austin butler #austin butler elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #this is so very self indulgent. #as evidenced by the length. #ally's october creature au's. #yeah i did make jerry a werewolf in this because i wanted to. #don't judge me #i said this was self indulgent. #selkie!elvis

[ltwilliammowett]

A George III unmarked silver Sailor’s Token, circa 1793, adapted from a silver coin [probably a shilling], one side engraved with H.M.S. Russell, 74 Guns, the other with script initials ‘RA’ over ‘AA’ and the date 1793

HMS Russell was a 74-gun third rate ship of the line of the Royal Navy, launched on 10 November 1764 at Deptford. In 1782, she was commanded by Captain James Saumarez at the Battle of the Saintes. In 1793 John Willet Payne became captain and, the following year, the ship became part of the Channel Fleet, under Admiral Howe. The Russell fought in the Battle of Groix. She also fought at the Battle of Camperdown in 1797. The ship was sold by the navy in 1811.

#naval artifacts #sailor's love token #coin #hms russell #late 18th century #age of sail

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[The Daily Don] :: [Primetime material]

[FACE IT: HE HAS NO "BOTTOM" ::  TCINLA]

The Cretin News Network, mired in third place in the ratings and in danger of dropping to fourth place behind NewsMax, took an hour tonight to deliver “ratings” to their corporate overlord, “Reality” TV King David Zaslav. They did it by allowing anyone who could stomach looking to see that the monster known as Donald J. Trump has no “bottom,” that there is no line he will not cross repeatedly, that there is no proven lie he will not continue to spew, that he is not only completely and totally unfit to hold any office or position of responsibility, but is incapable of achieving the minimum behavior standards for inclusion as a member of the species.

And as he did all that, the lifetime losers, the escapees from Flyover Loserville, the senile old white male boomers who were fuckwits when I knew them 60 years ago in high school, are actually all worse than he is; they are people completely bereft of any moral sensibility, so mired in ignorance, mendacity and maliciousness, whose malign view of the world is so skewed, that they laughed and applauded the serial lies and threats to the country they claim to love that were spewed by the monster who sat in front of them.

Asked if he owed Mike Pence an apology for January 6, Trump launched into an attack on Pence, justifying the cries of the insurrectionist mob he called into existence that day to “Hang Mike Pence!” by claiming Pence didn’t “do the right thing,” “He could have sent the votes back to the states, he had the power to do that, and we would have had a much different outcome!”

And the audience of mental defectives applauded that.

Asked if he would recognize the result of the 2024 election regardless of the outcome, he refused to say he would. Just as he refused to say he would recognize the result in 2016 and 2020 unless he was declared the winner.

And the audience of moral defectives applauded that.

Asked about the judgement yesterday in the civil trial in New York, he again declared he didn’t know who E. Jean Carroll is, and then proceeded to defame her anew by calling her a ‘whack job” and then accusing her of being a “bad person” because “who would invite a man into a dressing room of a major department store in New York?”

And the audience of malicious morons laughed and applauded.

When he declared that he would pardon the January 6 insurrectionists, who he declared were all patriotic Americans upset at “losing our country,” almost including the Proud Boys and the Oath Keeper - the convicted seditionists - on the list of those whose crimes against the country he took an oath to protect he would pardon, the audience cheered and applauded.

The only people worse than the monster Trump are the 74 million who are so debased, so depraved, so lacking in all morality and intelligence, who voted for him after watching his assault on the United States and American society, the 74 million who support him for hating the people they hate.

These people see every crime he commits and applaud him. There will never be forgiveness for any of them, no “De-Trumpization” program that can restore them to participation in civilized society. That they have done what they have done over these past eight years since the monster first came down his golden escalator is proof they never were who any of us thought they were.

#CNN #outrageous behavior #TFG #TCinLA #malicious morons #political circus #The Daily Don #Primetime Material

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil’s Amazon Breaks Another Deforestation Record

Another month in 2022, another announcement of record deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon. 

Last month, Brazil’s National Institute for Space Research (INPE) reported that the tropical rainforest experienced record deforestation during the first three months of the year. Now, the agency says that deforestation rates for April broke the record for the month, reflecting the extractivist policies of right-wing Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro. 

“The cause of this record has a first and last name: Jair Messias Bolsonaro,” Marcio Astrini, who leads the Brazilian environmental group Climate Observatory, said in a statement reported by Reuters.

The forest lost 390 square miles during the first 29 days of April, the agency said. It will report figures for the last day of the month later this week. Deforestation this April is up 74 percent from the same month last year, when the previous April record was set, AP News reported. 

The April record is also the third monthly record set this year: January and February also saw record deforestation, according to Reuters. Further, the first four months of 2022 also broke a record for the first four months of a year, seeing 754 square miles of forest cleared, an area more than double the size of New York City. This is also 69 percent more than during the same period in 2021.

This amount of deforestation is especially disturbing because Brazil is currently in its rainy season, Al Jazeera reported. This is a time when it is typically harder for loggers to cut down trees.

Continue reading.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #environmentalism #environmental justice #amazon rainforest #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

[mogwai-movie-house]

The 100 Best Films of the 1940s

Ranked and rated high-to-low:

1. The Third Man (1949) ★★★★★★★★★★ 2. His Girl Friday (1940) ★★★★★★★★★★ 3. Black Narcissus (1947) ★★★★★★★★★★ 4. A Matter of Life and Death (1946) ★★★★★★★★★★ 5. Dumbo (1941) ★★★★★★★★★★ 6. Casablanca (1942) ★★★★★★★★★★ 7. Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) ★★★★★★★★★★ 8. The Maltese Falcon (1941) ★★★★★★★★★★ 9. Citizen Kane (1941) ★★★★★★★★★★ 10. Pinocchio (1940) ★★★★★★★★★★ 11. Les Enfants du Paradis (1945) ★★★★★★★★★★ 12. And Then There Were None (1945) ★★★★★★★★★★ 13. The Big Sleep (1946) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 14. Sullivan's Travels (1941) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 15. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 16. The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 17. Road to Utopia (1945) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 18. Passport to Pimlico (1949) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 19. Gilda (1946) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 20. The Three Musketeers (1948) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 21. Great Expectations (1946) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 22. The Ghost of St. Michael's (1941) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 23. The Shop Around the Corner (1940) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 24. Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 25. The Ox-Bow Incident (1942) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 26. Saboteur (1942) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 27. Whisky Galore! (1949) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 28. The Thief of Bagdad (1940) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 29. Bambi (1942) ★★★★★★★★½☆ 30. I Married a Witch (1942) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 31. Road to Zanzibar (1941) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 32. Road to Morocco (1942) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 33. It's a Wonderful Life (1946) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 34. To Be or Not to Be (1942) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 35. On the Town (1949) ★★★★★★★★★☆ 36. The Big Steal (1949) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 37. The Philadelphia Story (1940) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 38. Double Indemnity (1944) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 39. Out of the Past (1947) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 40. I Know Where I'm Going! (1945) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 41. Ball of Fire (1941) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 42. Laura (1944) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 43. Nightmare Alley (1947) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 44. Oliver Twist (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 45. Hail the Conquering Hero (1944) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 46. Dead of Night (1945) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 47. Spellbound (1945) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 48. The Paleface (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 49. Hellzapoppin' (1941) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 50. La Belle et la Bête (1946) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 51. Foreign Correspondent (1940) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 52. The Lady Eve (1941) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 53. My Favourite Wife (1940) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 54. Monsieur Verdoux (1947) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 55. Brief Encounter (1945) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 56. The Palm Beach Story (1942) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 57. Green For Danger (1946) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 58. The Black Book (1949) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 59. Brighton Rock (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 60. Bicycle Thieves (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 61. The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1943) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 62. The Mark of Zorro (1940) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 63. Panique (1946) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 64. Blithe Spirit (1945) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 65. Hangover Square (1945) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 66. Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 67. Five Graves to Cairo (1943) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 68. The Fallen Idol (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 69. High Sierra (1941) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 70. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 71. The Queen of Spades (1949) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 72. The Razor's Edge (1946) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 73. Lifeboat (1944) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 74. The Eagle with Two Heads (1948) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 75. My Darling Clementine (1946) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 76. Meet John Doe (1941) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 77. The Sea Hawk (1940) ★★★★★★★★☆☆ 78. Hamlet (1948) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 79. Odd Man Out (1947) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 80. Random Harvest (1942) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 81. The Grapes of Wrath (1940) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 82. Rebecca (1940) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 83. Le Corbeau (1943) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 84. Mr. Skeffington (1944) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 85. Fantasia (1940) ★★★★★★★½☆☆ 86. The Great Dictator (1940) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 87. Rome, Open City (1945) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 88. Obsession (1949) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 89. To Have and Have Not (1944) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 90. Rope (1948) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 91. The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 92. The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 93. It Happened Tomorrow (1944) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 94. All Through the Night (1942) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 95. The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 96. The Big Store (1941) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 97. Ride the Pink Horse (1947) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 98. It Started with Eve (1941) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 99. Portrait of Jennie (1948) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ 100. Notorious (1946) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

#film recommendations #classic movies #1940s

[lordsofcorbina]

Cross your T’s and Dot your I’s.

Randy and I headed out to get on this current tuna bite that’s happening just outside our shoreline. I could see in the distance Mount Soledad while we were out on the water. The hot bite has been hugging our coast from La Jolla to Oceanside. I saw a pic of a tuna boil taken from shore.😯

Our first stop was near a bit of a crowd but the birds were working hard so we decided to give it a shot. We kept our distance and brailed a healthy

amount of bait to try and stir up some action. We were in 74 degree water so we figured the schools moving around this area were Yellow Fin Tuna.

Reports had them between 20 to 40 pounds.

Soaking a line I go for my lightest rig to hedge my bet on just getting bit. I handled many tuna in the 20 to 30 pound range on my Graphtech Light Bass Stick rated 8 to 12 pound and OG Calcutta 400.

I have a light wire Mutu #4 circle hook tied directly to the mono.

Randy is fishing something a little heavier but he’s using a fluorocarbon leader.

Fishing side by side Randy gets bit and has a fish on. Unfortunately it comes off a short while later.

Well I’m no dummy so I wind in my line cut off my hook and quickly tie in a nice long 20 pound fluorocarbon leader.

I get rigged up and pin on a bait. I have the bait outside the rod tip and about to make a cast and I feel some flat spots along the mono. Sometimes flat spots are just that and if give the line a good stretch they will disappear and hopefully the line integrity is intact.

So I give the line a stretch and it smooths it out but it’s not ideal. I decide to not chance it and peel all the line out of the top of the rod, cut off the dead spots and proceed to tie in a new leader.

I tie in the new leader with a triple surgeon knot instead of the usual double but when I pulled it tight it did not lay down perfectly. So once again I cut off the leader and have to retie.

Three tries, I finally get this right! We tried for a long soak and neither one of us gets a sniff.

So we decide to run up to another spot.

The water is like a lake the only draw back is the lack of any kelp paddies and the water was often dirty to very dirty.

Reports though have shown the tuna have been willing to bite in this dirty water.

So we are cruising along and I see a actual piece of kelp but it’s smaller than a trash can lid. More like the size of a 5 gallon bucket.

Randy says let’s fish it since there’s no other game in town. We actually had to circle back to find the tiny kelp patch. I went pretty heavy brailing a few scoops of bait on this kelp button.

I grab the bass stick, pin on a fresh bait and flip it out towards the kelp. The bait takes off, oh great a lively bait and then the line just surges off the reel. Whoo hoo, I’m bit, I start counting in my head, once I get to about 7 I flip the reel in gear and feel the weight of the fish and he starts smoking my little Calcutta.

Line is disappearing rapidly and before long I’m down to less than a third of my spool.

Finally the fish slows down and I apply some pressure and get him coming my way. I start speed winding to gain back some line. When I’m at about 50% capacity I feel a little relief. I then check my drag thinking it may be to loose to get smoked by a Yellow Fin Tuna like that. Nope feels just about right it’s not overly loose or overly tight for the line.

My confidence is short lived as the fish makes another gnarly surge and dumps all that line and more back off the reel. I mutter, “oh man I’m going to get spooled here”. Randy hears me and says what? You’re getting spooled? I said yeah he’s trying. Randy asks what size line are you fishing? Ummmm 17 pound straight mono 🤷🏻‍♂️

Anyway, three laps around the boat, twice I almost got spooled and finally we end up chasing the fish with the boat to keep the pressure on without adding undo pressure.

Bingo-Bango… it turns into an epic Blue Fin tuna battle.

The fish tried all the Blue Fin tricks, trying to spool me, running directly back at the boat, running straight out along on the surface. While fighting the fish up in the bow, Randy in the stern asks if I needed a gaff yet. Nope I have him at deep color. Seconds later the fish rockets up and starts thrashing on the surface and now I’m yelling for a gaff. WTF the first time I’ve had a tuna do that. Then it drives back down to deep color and we go back into the end game.

Props to Randy for being steady at the helm chasing down the fish.

I also ended up landing a 25 pound YFT on normal gear and lost a nice YFT. That fish chewed through the leader right at the boat.😢 😎