#just putting it here to push the poll out farther

[watchyourbuck]

Fuck it Friday ✍🏼

Tagged by the lovely @wikiangela <3

More jealous!Eddie. I read your comments & cc and I’ve made some adjustments to the story. This is 20 of the 44 sentences I owe you for the poll game! 🏃🏽‍♀️✨

The threat Eddie’s hands imposed didn’t last long. Buck took them both in his before they reached his neck and rapidly maneuvered them behind the shorter man’s back, pulling him in as a consequence. They were suddenly very, very close.

Eddie would be lying if he said his heart didn’t immediately jump. He could practically feel the heat coming off Buck’s skin from under his own shirt. Still, he wasn’t at peace, so he struggled. Hard. “Let go of me.”

“Tell me what’s going on with you first” urged Buck, his voice soft for the situation. It was maddening, but it was working. No matter how much he moved, he somehow ended up farther into his arms, like quicksand. “You’re acting like a lunatic and I deserve to know why.”

He grunted and scoffed, opening and closing his mouth several times, a bit of a reality check washing over him. “I- uh, I plead the fifth.”

Buck’s grip became tighter, and he was forced to look at him, swallowing. Staring into anyone’s eyes was easy for him, but he wouldn’t win against these.

“For someone who came in here banging on my door and demanding to come inside, you sure seem like you have nothing to say.”

Again, he had no option but to swallow. Truth be told, he wasn’t really thinking. There were few moments in his life where his vision was completely red, and this was one of them. If only he hadn’t listened to her.

His muscles tightened, an uncomfortableness setting in his every fiber. He felt like he was coming down from a very painful high, and he wasn’t ready to face anyone about it, especially not Buck. “Let go of me” he ordered. “Now.”

Instead of stepping back, the blond man moved closer, letting go of Eddie’s arms but cornering him against the kitchen aisle. “Not until you calm down.”

But how was he supposed to? Everything she told him was real, and the proof was right before his eyes. He had marched in here with a purpose, but that purpose was misguided. He was everything she told him he was. “I can’t.”

It could have been the uneasiness in Eddie’s eyes, or maybe the fact he owed him, but before either could do anything about it Buck was leaning down and capturing his lips with his own.

It was one fast kiss, touch and go, just to calm him down, he told himself. It quickly became hungry.

Eddie’s hands pushed on his chest almost desperately, trying to fight him off, but Buck kept him steady by the hips, overpowering him until he relaxed under his touch. No less than three minutes.

“Eddie” he pleaded, his voice breaking as he put some distance between them. “Please tell me what’s going on with you.”

Thing is, Eddie’s brain had stopped working around the same second he felt Buck’s tongue. He had desired this for so long, and now that he had it… he didn’t deserve it. “No” he finally said, pushing Buck away softly. “I’m not gonna let it happen like this.”

“Eddie” insisted Buck. “It’s just you and me.”

A spark of something lit up inside him. So Buck was alone. Simultaneously and unwillingly, the pit in his stomach deepened. “You didn’t- did you- well did she-”

“There was no date, Eddie,” said Buck, stopping his train of thought rather violently. “Did you really think I was gonna go after you kissed me? You kissed me. Have you thought about that? You kissed me.”

“You keep repeating it like it’s the worse thing that’s happened to you” he barked, hitting him on the shoulder. Honest to god, he had no idea how to dig himself out of this situation and he was starting to panic.

Buck took one step closer and Eddie’s breath hitched, his heartbeat raising. He couldn’t stop staring. “No, Eddie, it wasn’t. And if you had asked me to stay, I would have.”

—-

Tags!! @alyxmastershipper @eddiesbvckley @eddiecore118 @buckleys-diaz @buckleyndiaz @buckleyobsessed @911onabc @princessfbi @honestlydarkprincess @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @transbuck @thosetwofirefighters @housewifebuck @malewife-buck @lover-of-mine (let me know if u wish to not be tagged in the future!)

tags for readers: @mattsire @knightlywonders 💗

[demvalhaken]

Bees were the runner up in the poll, so here they are

Okay sooooooo bees. This is gonna be formatted the same just probably shorter

The bee diet consists of nectar, honey l and plants. Bees are herbivores, their bodies are not built to process meat like Hornets and Wasps and it can make them sick. They have a cultural dish of Orantais (A Bee Territory fruit) dipped in sugar and chocolate. This food is usually sold inside the streets of the hive.

Their society is just like bees, except a little different. The queen rules everyone and everything and can make executions. All males are kicked out during winter, and if one stays, he’s killed brutally for not following orders. The queen’s heirs WILL NOT take the throne after she dies, the bees will choose whatever princess is best and follow her to build a new hive after the queen’s death. Selling royal honey is HIGHLY against the law of the First Queen… OH YEAH- THEY WORSHIP THEIR FIRST QUEEN, also known as Queen Pollen, the first queen of the bees. She was born before AE (After Evolution) and even before BE (Before Evolution) She was actually born in the Emerald Age, which is prehistoric. She made a specific set of laws and was also seen as a goddess… weird… I hope she doesn’t return from the dead… Princes do not matter and are still kicked out during winter, the princes are ALWAYS kicked out of the royal household and put up for adoption. Sad… The hierarchy consists of the queen, the princesses, citizens, and children. Higher ranking citizens will live close to the queen while lower ranking are pushed farther away.

The appearance of bees is not very complex and diverse. They always consist of white, browns, and yellow. They all have stripes. The colour of their eyes can vary though from red, blue, green, black, and purple. Queen Honeymoon has blue eyes which is a more royal family trait. The bees have thick, sturdy stingers that are usually reinforced with metals. The stinger is not as permanent as the hornets or wasps, and can accidentally break off. Though it won’t kill them, it just HURTSSS. Prosthetics exist though. Bees are much smaller than the wasps ans smaller than hornets. They are easily spotted in crowds of other bugs because of their unique appearance.

RANDOM INFORMATION WOOHOOOOWHOOOHOOOOOOOO

The bees are not an advanced species, they can’t build elaborate and safe cities like wasps or make elaborate hives like both hornets and wasps

They can’t see many colours and will shield their eyes from any brightly coloured bug like wasps and butterflies since they can’t see all those colours

The first bee queen has a faraway temple that is concealed and hidden

Bees will all huddle in the center of the in-hive city. The royal family will huddle in the royal winter huddle room which has a bunch of blankets, and a ton of rugs

Bees are not taught anything about the outside world which is why they walk right into danger. Wasps find this absolutely funny and have a saying that goes “Don’t be a bee, or you’ll be in the jaws of danger” which is just saying don’t be an absolute idiot and die

Bees can’t be born during winter as that’s against the law and creates complications. Bees born during winter are usually seen as criminals

Bees can’t spell. They were never taught anything and only know how to speak and abide the law

Art drawn by bees is so horrible, a group of wasps started weeping by just the thought of it… it’s horrible

Goodbye, do you want more of these?

[icefrozendeadlyqueen]

I Have a Star

Alistair x (y/n)

Summary: You have been locked up since you have been 15. Now at the bare of your 15 years anniversary something magnificent happens.

Warning: Clinically insane, mentions of murder, idk how warnings work

A/N: I am not good at summaries. I tried okay. My last poll Alistair won, and Vladimir came in second. Here it is!

Word count: 825 words

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

Life.

What is if not a prison others make for you to stand in. (Y/n) stood by her window waiting patiently for night to come back. The day brought things she can't live without if she wants to survive that is: Nurse that brings her food and water, the one person that brings her medication to keep her stable, etc. She has seen it all play like the ones she used to see as a little one before she went insane or so the doctors scream at anyone that shows her pity.

She does not blame them. Night, no. She loves nights the most. That's when he comes around. She has turn her schedule to night time to see more of him hoping to see him again just like one episode where she promise her nurse; she will go back to her morning schedule if she gets to see him again.

Those crimson eyes tend to be the most captivated ones she has seen all her life. His complexion hard to describe from where she sees him. She manage to get a wave from him by getting his attention last week.

(y/n) is not a captive neither a prisoner. She has committed a great sin despite her own mother attempting to her death back when she was 15, exactly 30 years qgo.

(y/n) takes a deep breath leaning her head on the window frame looking over at the horizon. The sun dies under a mountain farther from us here in the center that keeps us warm as soon as the sun disappear so does that warmth.

"Nights out!". Screams through out our pestering guardians.

(y/n) keeps her eyes out hoping her knight in pale armor comes through the bushes confirming that she might not be practically insane or so her morning doctor proclaims or as he loves to say, "mentally diagnose as insane".

Darkness fall onto the surrounding area only the bright moon shining the grounds that's when she notice her knight in shining armor taking steps out from his hiding spot inside the forest. His eyes search, and she finds herself pounding onto the glass like a clinically insane person. His eyes drift to her like a magnet to his destination, "HEY!".

"You should be asleep", (y/n) room door receives pounds from the outside. She stops pounding onto her window. Her knight in pale armor is looking at her standing there so majestic. She waves ignoring the persisting person outside her room chatting her ear off.

When she made no sound the person walks off, their footsteps could be heard go away. (y/n) returns her attention to him.

Those crimson eyes vividly red. People must have evolve from average eyes to such a vivid color. (y/n) doesn't know for sure so long has she been here. She has forgotten what normal usually is.

'why don't you go say hi', a thought suddenly creeps in the corner of her brain. (y/n) stops turning her head back inside the room. She looks back to him putting one finger up.

"This is insane", She whispers under her breath. She picks the object closest to her not waiting for anyone to come destroy her plan. She moves the object back then throws it with all her strength towards the window.

Her hair dances with the wind welcoming her into its grasp. (y/n) moves back from the window, screams from the hallway, uncontrollable pounding from the guards as the door shakes from all the screams.

"Clinically free!!"

(y/n) runs to towards the window getting one last push from the window frame. She screams at the top of her lungs. She misses the pointed bars by a mere luck shot if she had jump much lower (y/n) would not have make it. A thud make her blink continuously, she let her intrusive thoughts win despite her better judgement, but she knows the earth is hard.

(y/n) moves back using her elbows to level herself with whatever she fell on top, "Are you okay?". said the wonderful voice that she has ever heard. Her legs could have melted within the earth, and she wouldn't have given a single notice. Those crimson eyes were the first thing she notice, "I strongly advice against taking such path, but it did got you closer to me for that I am grateful". His concern spells all over his face.

(y/n) mouth opens, but no words came out to object. No the more he talks. The more she wants him to continue. She feels the utter need to lock her arms around him to make it seem that this is reality, he exist. She is not mentally insane.

"(y/n)", was all she manage to mutter lowering to lock her arms around his neck.

"Alistair". He sniff her scent now much clearer. Once has his power done him some good. Alistair lock his arms around her taking her away from the place that kept his mate in captivity.

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 3 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

The next Monday found you anxiously nursing a coffee, carefully looking over Bakugou’s latest results.

You’d let the model retrain overnight, just to get a more up-to-date picture of Bakugou’s work, and you’d barely slept a wink while it ran, fretting over your first meeting with him. After waking up earlier than ever, you’d found yourself restless all morning, so you’d made your way into Miruko’s agency well ahead of schedule and had spent your time since sucking down coffees and eyeing Bakugou’s assist and rescue scores warily. They still sat well beneath his kill and capture scorings, and you mentally braced yourself for the near impossibility of getting him to prioritize those aspects of his work.

With Mina’s help, you’d been able to con him into working with you. But just because he’d agreed to your bet, you were not stupid enough to think that meant he was going to make anything easy for you.

Bakugou, for his part, seemed the very antithesis of nervous when he met you in the surveillance room. He barged into your makeshift office mid-morning, looking well-rested if annoyed. The door banged loudly off the opposite wall and rebounded closed with a slam that rattled the AV equipment.

“Let’s get this over with,” Bakugou growled, throwing himself down in the seat opposite you. He was dressed in dark training clothes--simple athletic fabrics that suggested that he meant to book it to a training room the second he was done with you. His whole manner suggested you should keep things short.

You sat frozen, fingers paused over your laptop keys. “...Good morning to you too.”

He looked at you incredulously, blonde eyebrows raising. “I didn’t fucking come here for small talk. Get on with it, nerd.”

You suppressed a twitch of irritation, looking away from him where he sat in an agitated pile of strong lines and tense muscle. God you hoped this was all going to be worth it, at the end of things.

You sighed and clicked into the model results screen, knowing it was only going to work him into a lather if you pressed him on social niceties. “Okay, so I did some analysis--”

“Big fucking surprise.”

“--and,” you continued loudly, “as you well know, you need to adjust certain priorities on the field.”

A scoff issued from his direction. “I don’t need to adjust shit.”

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. He was literally here to discuss adjusting shit. What was the point of him being so defensive?

You eyed him speculatively, taking in the oppositional slant to his broad shoulders, the thin slash of his mouth as he regarded you irritably. Your observations from last week floated to the forefront of your mind, that this was a man who would not easily do anything he didn’t want to do. And it was clear he did not actually want to do this--he had only been baited into it by the grace of his meddling, pink-haired friend.

You mentally resolved to play as nice as you possibly could, to minimize the amount of fussing from his side of things.

“As I think I explained last year,” you began carefully, “the model I train relies on a set of weights, and you’re ranked on that. Your work is divided up into categories: public perception, kills, captures, property damage, rescues, and now assists. Some of those categories are weighted more heavily than others, so if you do well in them, you’ll outperform your peers in the rankings who do just as well in other categories.”

Blood red eyes darted up to a monitor as you projected your laptop screen onto it, the model results translated into neatly organized and color-coded graphs.

“You are unmatched in kills, fairly unmatched in captures as well, and you’ve kept property damage to a surprising minimum in the last few years considering your quirk. You’re also wildly popular, particularly with young people, according to public polls.”

You glossed over the fact that his appearance probably had a lot to do with it, considering the tidal wave of interest from the female bracket of respondents. The fact especially did not bear thinking about when he was alone in a tiny office with you, bare arms and the hard planes of his chest displayed prominently in his training gear.

“Just fucking---out with it,” Bakugou demanded, turning to glare at you again. “I don’t have all damn day.”

The tiniest hint of smoke and sweetness hit your nose as he leaned closer, and you pushed away from him, baring your palms in the universal gesture for peace.

“Okay, okay. So you’re good at those things, but your rescue scores need work, and your assist score puts you in the top ten least cooperative heroes in the entire industry,” you explained, watching as a muscle in his jaw jumped in obvious irritation. “Rescues are the highest weighted category in the rankings model, and assists are the third highest. So no matter how good you are in other areas, you will not surpass anyone who performs well in these categories.”

Bakugou made an annoyed sound, his brows drawing together. “Quit fucking talking to me like I’m a baby. I fucking know--tell me exactly what your fucking nerd-ass model needs me to do and I’ll fucking do it.”

You breathed out of your nose very slowly, quelling the rising tide of annoyance within you. Everything out of his mouth was so abrupt and demanding.

Software engineers, picture the software engineers.

“Okay so I ran deeper analyses on those two categories and compared your movements with generalized results from the top ten heroes from each category,” you continued.

“The thing that stood out in terms of rescues, is that you were almost twice as fast as other heroes to leap into combat with a villain. This means you’re spending less time assessing the situation than other heroes, and therefore spending less time processing victims. So if I had to make a recommendation here, it’s that you should actively look for civilians before jumping into a fight. You might still find that the smarter thing to do is leap into the fight instead of evacuating them, but you at least need to slow down before you do.”

The crease between his brows erased itself and he leaned back in his chair, tension bleeding out of him somewhat, which was--unexpected. You’d have thought he’d get more defensive as you explained his shortcomings to him.

“Fine,” he said shortly. “What else?”

You pulled up two videos and projected them side by side, bright little clusters of dots collected over the location of each hero. “For assists, it looks like when you’re in range of other heroes, you actually do help, at least a little. I only found an issue when I generalized results from the top ten in this category and ran calculations about their movements in comparison to yours.”

You let the videos play, watching Bakugou’s eyes track the movements with unblinking precision. He said nothing as you let the loop repeat, the tense lines of his body inexplicably unravelling even further with each loop. He looked as close to relaxed as you had ever seen him.

After a few loops, he finally let out a scoff. “Those needy fucks stick closer to other heroes,” he concluded gruffly. “That’s what the dots are tracking.”

You nodded. “On average, you move three times farther away from other heroes on scene than the top ten heroes do. So you’re less likely to be in range to help.”

He rolled a powerful shoulder, unwittingly drawing your eyes straight to it. You gave your leg an annoyed pinch under the table, forcing your gaze back up to his face once you realized what you were doing.

“So I have to look for weaklings and stay closer to these b-list fucking clowns, that’s what you’re telling me?” he prompted, running a hand through his mess of blonde hair. It looked unexpectedly soft under his fingers.

You drew your eyes away from him again, focusing hard on the relief you were feeling that he seemed to be processing and internalizing your feedback. “Yeah, you need to assist civilians and stay in range of your team. Those are the only areas in which you really need help.”

There was a sharp crackle, and tense movement caught in the corner of your eye. You turned to find that all of Bakugou’s unease had suddenly returned, a snarl riding his mouth.

“Help?” he demanded. That scent of smoke and sugar suddenly pressed in on you again, sharp and dangerously hot.

You blinked at him in confusion. “...Uh, yeah?”

His gaze darkened and he leaned over the table between the two of you, a calloused hand catching the collar of your shirt to yank you towards him. The corner of the table dug into your ribs, and his fingers were hot where they brushed the skin under your collar.

“I don’t fucking need help,” he spat, crimson eyes boring into your face like a drill. Your hands came up to grab his, trying to untwist it from your shirt, but his fingers only tightened, unyielding.

“What--? Yes you do?” you garbled, fingers scrabbling over his. “What do you--?”

He pulled you further across the table, so that his face was scant inches from your own.

“Fuck you if you think I need anything from you,” he growled in a low tone, voice almost dangerously soft. Your blood iced over in your veins, limbs freezing. He stared at you for a long, heavy moment.

Then, in the next second, you were being shoved backwards into your chair, and then Bakugou was gone, door slamming behind him with a force that shook the walls.

You stared after him in shock, mouth gaping open. He had been fine up until a couple of seconds ago, even seeming to relax under your analysis. But then his temper had suddenly flared for no fucking reason.

What….what the fuck was wrong with him?

You spent the rest of the morning in a state of restless agitation.

What the literal fuck was wrong with Bakugou? Why had he just stormed out like that? What had flipped the switch for him in the space of mere seconds?

You replayed the conversation in your head nonstop all through your next few meetings and over your lunch break, where you furiously wolfed down a bento without tasting any of it. Your frustration carried you all the way into the afternoon, when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through your door.

You looked up into Pinky’s dark eyes and brilliant smile.

“Y/N!” she chirped happily, closing the door behind her and sprawling into the seat across from you.

You returned her friendly smile. “Ashido-san,” you greeted her politely.

She laughed and waved a rosy hand, leaning forward over the table. “I would never ask stats girl to be formal with me. Call me Mina!”

You huffed an embarrassed laugh. That was sweet, but the nickname stats girl needed to die a brisk and fiery death.

“Mina, then,” you amended, pulling up her model results on your laptop, trying to tamp down on your embarrassment. She was almost overwhelmingly friendly.

Her dark eyes flickered over you curiously and a cautious smile played about her mouth. “Heard it didn’t go well with Katsuki this morning.”

You looked up at her in surprise. “He told you?”

She laughed. “No, I just saw him annihilating a training room. I know him well enough to know when he’s throwing a tantrum.”

An awkward, hot sense of shame welled up within you at the thought that you’d pushed him to that, though you didn’t know how. You got the sense that you’d taken one step forward but two steps back. So much for your promotion.

“Uh yeah, he kind of...stormed out? He’d been listening, actually, and I thought things were going weirdly well. The bet was a good idea, so thank you,” you said. “I just…somehow I screwed it up, I think.”

Mina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, splaying out flat in her seat. “God, you know what? I’m just so tired of my best friends being guys. They’re so dramatic and so fussy about their tough guy image. And take themselves so seriously, for no reason, even fucking Denki. I have sat every single one of them down and forced them into make up so it’s absolutely baffling to me that they still stomp around like they’re so serious and so tortured.”

Your mouth dropped open as what she’d just said caught up with you. Take themselves seriously...when she’d forced them into make up? “No. Even…?”

Mina smirked. “Oh yeah, even Katsuki. No idea why he thinks he’s such a tough guy when all it takes is a couple of tears and boom, he’s working a smokey eye and tiny little pigtails.”

You choked on a laugh, trying to dispel the horrifying image in your mind of Bakugou in mascara and lipstick. The idea of him in make up was somehow even more intimidating than his usual appearance. You did not want to know more.

It certainly did beg the question, however, why he was such a difficult jerk if it was that easy to get him to acquiesce to something that horrifying. Maybe the answer lay in Mina’s powers of manipulation. She’d known to make the bet with him, after all. And if she knew how to get him into eyeliner and lipstick, then she might know how to get him to agree to let you help him.

“Wow,” you murmured. “That’s...terrifying. How did you even convince him though? I can’t get him to spend more than two seconds around me without blowing his top like a volcano.”

Mina grinned conspiratorially, leaning over the table. “You just have to know how to work him. Trust me, you might have good numbers sense, but I have pretty good people sense. Katsuki is all smoke and fire until you dig underneath.”

You almost did not want to know what was underneath. “That’s--but he’s so volatile. I can’t predict any of it.”

Mina's grin widened. “Actually, it’s pretty straightforward. He’s actually super in control all of the time, even when it seems like he’s lost it. He’s only really sensitive about one thing.”

“For example,” she leaned forward, her smile morphing into something dark and leery. “I heard he burned through your dress at the Hero Awards.”

You put your face in your palm. “Yes. This is what I’m talking about--I thought he was gonna fry me to a crisp.”

Mina snorted, raking a hand through her mess of curls. “Maybe I only see it because my acid is similar--but it’s pretty hard to only burn through a tiny strip of fabric and not touch anything underneath, even if you’re not out of your mind with anger. It requires some precise control. Wouldn’t you say?”

You froze in your seat, staring at her. Implications began to creep over you like a dark shroud. “What?”

She grinned. “He didn’t touch you, right? Only the dress?”

You gaped at her. “Yeah--only the dress.”

She cut her dark eyes to you, looking like she was trying to suppress a laugh. “Very interesting that he managed to sear straight through your dress, then, without burning you. One might think he did it on purpose.”

You floundered. “But I--but he--! I told him to do better and he got all worked up and intense!”

Mina laughed out loud. “I bet he did. Katsuki’s a total control freak but he loves a challenge. That’s why he took your bet, and that’s why your meeting didn’t go as poorly as you thought it might at first, and that’s why he was so fixated on you after the Awards.”

Your face heated. “Don’t put it like that.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know how you feel about him, but I can guarantee he’s very interested in you. He loves girls who don’t take any of his shit. Why do you think he signed with Miruko? It’s actually kinda gross,” she made a face.

Your face was on fire. A hot wave of embarrassment washed through you and you resisted the urge to dive under the table and hide. This is not the turn you thought the conversation would be taking.

“Uh, so,” you managed, fingers fluttering. “So--um, why did he freak out earlier then? I did tell him everything he was doing wrong. But then he lost it, I think when I told him I would help.”

Mina’s grin settled back into place. “He’s so fucking predictable. He hates being looked down on, and the word help implies that you think he’s weak enough to need it. I’ll bet you anything that’s why he totally flipped.”

You considered this. “But I didn’t mean it like that--”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s got a very specific way of looking at things. He’s way better than he used to be but that’s the one thing he’s still sensitive about.”

You mulled that over. It did explain, then, why he’d reacted so poorly when he’d seemed to be fine with your critique. “Does he really need to be seen as strong that badly?”

Mina picked idly at the fluff on her costume’s jacket, thin fingers tangling in the white strands. “He has insane expectations for himself, and he’s only comfortable when everyone else has those too. It’s like if you think he can’t live up to those standards, that you don’t truly see him.”

So that was it. The mystery of Bakugou’s volatile nature explained--a weirdly deep-seated inferiority complex wrapped up in layers of crankiness and--you blushed--an interest in girls who gave him shit. You quickly buried any considerations on his romantic inclinations, and focused on the inferiority complex.

Whether you’d intended to or not, this morning you had managed to convey to him that you thought he was incapable, and not in a way that personally challenged him like the bet had, or your demand he do better at the Hero Awards. It was so ridiculous, you thought, but then so was he. And if you wanted to make any progress on your promotion, then you were gonna have to suck it up and work within those constraints.

You sighed. You owed him an explanation, maybe even an apology.

Mina regarded you approvingly from across the table. You also owed her a drink. Maybe several.

“Got it,” you acknowledged, clicking back into your model results and pulling up her ranking analyses. “And thank you--I owe you a ton. Now let’s get to what we came here to do which is to talk about how you can kick even more ass.”

Mina grinned, leaning forward in delight. “You’re welcome. And hell yeah, this conversation was so not passing the Bechdel test.”

You snorted, suppressing a wild smile. Oh, you really liked her.

You would apologize and get things back on track with Bakugou. And once Bakugou netted you your promotion, you were gonna turn back and rocket Mina up the rankings to give him a run for his money.

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 8)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, talk of traumatic events.

Authors Note: Hey it didn’t take me a month to update, be proud of me :)

"I was wondering when you were going to come." Y/n looked up from the ground.

There she was, it was the first time in months that Y/n had seen her. She quickly snatched her hand back and turned to the girl, the girl looked her up and down in disgust "You know we've had eyes on you the whole time."

"I had a feeling you did Kaitlynn, Maybe it's you tried to kill me at the school or again at the avengers compound, but I'm not really sure what gave it away." She said sarcastically.

Actually, Y/n didn't know it was them at first, it wasn't until they tried to kill them again at avengers compound that she put it together. She knew Hydra wasn't smart enough to figure out where they were at twice so it could only be one organization. She felt a twinge of guilt from dragging Peter into it when he didn't deserve it.

"Joking around won't help you escape," Kaitlynn said as the two began to circle one another.

"I've done it three times so far I think I might be able to manage a fourth." Y/n tilted her head at the girl.

"When we get back to the academy Head Mistress is going to give you a slow, painful death. Or perhaps I should just end it for you right now, say it was the slip of the finger on the trigger." Kaitlynn said taunting her, even if she was saying that to rile her up, she knew it was true. The headmistress wasn't merciful.

"I'm sure you would say it was a mistake, that would be believable since you can't seem to get anything right." Y/n snapped back.

"Is everything alright ladies?" Peter asked placing a hand on Y/n should, standing next to her.

Y/n got in front of Peter, pushing him behind her. He was confused, the two girls looked like they were seconds from killing each other. He didn't even know that she knew anyone from the state of New York. He just assumed that she was new there.

She put her hand behind her pushing him farther back "Peter go find our seats on the train." She commanded.

"What? No, I'm not leaving you here." He stood up straighter looking at her like she had lost her mind. He could tell that she was serious and wasn't joking by the tone in her voice.

"Yeah go run Peter." Kaitlynn mocked.

Running out of patience, Y/n turned around and pushed Peter as hard as she could in the chest, caught by surprise he felt backward into a pole, the bag in his hand sliding across the floor. She lunged toward Kaitlynn, throwing a punch at her. Kaitlynn ducked, kicking her in the stomach "It hasn't even been six months and you're already rusty."

Y/n stumbled back before regaining her footing, "You're just bitter that no matter how hard you try to play teacher's pet, you'll never have powers."

This time it was Kaitlynn who threw the punch, Y/n grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you babe." She whispered into Kaitlynn's ear. Kaitlynn was shorter than her, standing just a bit above her chin.

Several gunshots went off and people started to run for the exits and trains. Kaitlynn let out a menacing laugh "I guess you better put those powers to use."

Unexpectedly Kaitlynn, stomped on Y/n's foot, forcing her to let go. Kaitlynn spun around, somehow having a knife in her hands. She thrust her hand out towards Y/n's stomach, it was too late, Peter wouldn't have time to push her away, at that moment he couldn't recall if he let out a scream or not, he sat there frozen, just like uncles bens death, he was useless. He knows that she didn't mean to push him into a pole, for some odd reason she was trying to save him, his face had hit the poll with a strange amount of force. Even being dazed for a few seconds wasn't an excuse to just let her die.

Right as the knife was about to plunge into Y/n's stomach Kaitlynn suddenly stopped, Y/n held her right hand slightly out toward the girl, Peter watched as what he could only explain as darkness swirl from Y/n's arm, circling around the knife in Kaitlynn's. It was like the mist? Was holding her back from stabbing her.

Y/n threw her arm out to the side and the knife obeyed her command, flinging across the room. She began to raise her arms and the lights started to flicker, he watched as she struggled to bring her hands up to her chest, placing her left hand behind her right, he could hear the sound of light bulbs breaking as the room got darker and darker. Suddenly she thrust her hands out toward Kaitlynn, the darkness went rushing to her, throwing Kaitlynn into the wall that was more than twenty feet from her.

Y/n didn't waste any time before rushing over to Peter. She helped him up off the floor and grabbed the bag a few feet away from him. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and her arm around his waist. They both limped over to the train and wordlessly Peter handed the man the tickets, he wasn't sure how she had gotten them but he didn't ask. He was surprised that they were still accepting tickets after what had happened not even 30 seconds before. He guessed when you lived in New York long enough you see everything.

As they continued to walk through the train he felt as Y/n shook, putting more and more weight onto him. They nearly carried each other into the bathroom before he closed the door. "Sit." She said, nodding toward the toilet, he was sure she needed to sit more than him, but he didn't put up a protest.

She took the bag off her arm placing it on the sink, she opened the box of tampons before taking one out and placing it on the sink. Grabbing a wad of toilet paper she walked over to stand in front of him. He looked down, refusing to meet her eyes. She gently grabbed his jaw and lifted his face up to hers, she used the toilet paper to wipe the blood from under his nose that he didn't know was there. She threw the bloodied paper in the garbage before grabbing a tampon and ripping the packaging open, she placed it at the base of his left nostril and pushed on the inserter. He tried to move his head away but she held his head firmly so he wouldn't be able to until she was done.

"What was that back there." He asked softly.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. She wished everything would just go away, she wished she could go away. She hated this, sometimes she felt as though she was drowning in the darkness, it was suffocating. She was just barely treading water and underneath was a promise of sorrow and suffering.

Peter let his feet tap against the floor a few times before pushing himself up "I've tried Y/n, I've tried to be patient but someone just tried to kill you. So tell me what the hell is going on."

She gripped onto the sink before wetting her dry lips "When I was young, only three or four months, my parents had made a deal with some very bad people and for some reason, they couldn't hold up their end of the deal so they got me as collateral—."

There were several loud knocks "I know what you guys are doing in there, people need to use the bathroom, get the fuck out."

She clenched her teeth so hard he thought they might shatter, Peter swung open the door, he was about to tell him to get lost but Y/n's hand grazed his arm and she shook her head. The man standing outside the door looked at the pair and let out a slow whistle "Woah, you two are in bad shape."

Y/n just rolled her eyes and walked past the man, Peter turned around shoving everything into the bag before following her. She walked toward the back on unsteady feet, he caught up to her, looping his arm through hers.

When they got to the back he let her sit down first so he would be on the outside. She let out a small sigh of relief before turning toward Peter. He set the bag down between them and nervously began to chew on the inside of his cheek, he should be the one that's nervous. She was the one that was hiding a secret, so why was his stomach twisting?

"I was raised in the red room for a while, for about four or five years until they found another purpose for me." She sniffed "This was around the time the Avengers were getting big, Hydra and The Red Room both knew them to be threats so they decided to collaborate, them having similar interests and all."

She rolled her neck before continuing "They picked girls in the Red Room, they had to be young and in peak condition, so they were only a few of us. We were sent to a small school in the middle of Europe, a woman called the mistress raised us. We were trained, tortured, six days a week, save Sunday as they used that as a day for us to recover. They used us as lab rats, injecting us serum after serum, I watched as many of my classmates died.

"If you didn't get powers they wouldn't stop until you either got them or died, some girls were unfortunate and were strong enough to survive but not enough to get powers, and I was one of the lucky or not so lucky ones to get powers, it depends on how you view it."

Peter sat there as she continued to talk, hanging onto every word. His mouth hung open, she didn't let one tell slip, her voice didn't even waver in the slightest, he could see how tired she was, tired of everything. He wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and protect her from every bad thing that came for her but he knew she wasn't like that, the only person she could trust was herself, and he didn't blame her.

"So what are your power?" He asked her lightly, leaving room for her to leave the conversation alone.

"Essentially I can manipulate shadows, I borrow people's shadows and use them to do my bidding." She shrugged.

"So you're a shadow thief?"

That caused a small smile to form on her face "You know, thief is a strong word, and plus I always give them back."

"Wait, have you ever stolen my shadow?"  He scrunched his face.

"I haven't, not for the lack of trying of course." He scrunched up his face and she huffed out a laugh, letting out a yawn "Your shadow is different."

"How so?" Now he was confused, how could someone's shadow be different?

"When I take other people's shadows, I let the shadows pour into me, I feel the power run through me but with your shadow, it feels as though I have to pull it to me. It's more powerful, it's like it has reflexes or a defense mechanism."

Peter frowned "I guess that would make sense because of my spider-sense. But aren't shadows just the lack of light, so could you take the shadows of an inanimate object?"

"I can but it's harder." She sat up slightly, angling her body towards his "They say that shadows are connected to the soul, and that's why they used to say that vampires didn't have souls, because they don't have shadows. It doesn't hurt when I take people's shadows, but I've been told you do feel as though something is missing because I took a piece of your soul."

His eyes widened "So you're a soul sucker, maybe don't steal my shadow, I don't want to feel incompetent for the rest of my life."

Y/n rolled her eyes "You won't feel like that forever, it doesn't go away. You can't steal shadows, Peter, if you take something that's not yours, you can't go without consequence."

Peter tilted his head at her "That's why you were shaking earlier, using your powers takes a lot out of you."

"Pushing you into that pole took more force than I thought it would. Sorry about that, by the way."

"It's okay." He lifted his fingers up to graze his nose, it felt slightly swollen, but it would heal in a matter of hours. "You have weird powers."

She narrowed her eyes, grabbing one of the snacks out of the bag "Says the one that can walk up walks."

He gasped "Walking on walls is perfectly normal, so you want to know what isn't normal? Being a soul-sucking demon."

"Am not."

"Am too."

Part 9

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee • @nearlydanger9 • @jesuswasnotawhiteman

[broughttoyoubytheletterf]

Goddess

This is basically just an indulgence on my part, but you can have it too. Loosely based on Xana’s “Goddess” (which you should definitely listen to,  on repeat, like I have recently) 

You're fuckin' with a Goddess                                                                            And the bitch bites back

Jay and Kat are too far away to do anything when it plays out, they can only watch. The Secret Service detail Elizabeth only recently acquired is even farther away, this was supposed to be a simple garden party fundraiser after all, every guest vetted, there shouldn’t have been any danger. The California sun is beating down and it’s uncharacteristically humid, but everyone is in good spirits, they’re up five points in the polls and are looking to beat all expectations for fundraising this quarter. This event has also turned into a chance to catch up with old friends. 

Nadine is talking to a man Jay is pretty sure is the head of a major defense contractor. Elizabeth is near her chatting up the wife of a big donor, she’s starting to look twitchy though and Jay is pondering whether he needs to go intervene when a rapid series of events occur. Elizabeth is suddenly between Nadine and the defense contractor, so fast Jay doesn’t see her move, then Elizabeth absorbs a punch from him, taking it mostly on the shoulder. She barely sways, even wearing three inch heels, and as the man goes to hit again, Elizabeth uses the momentum from his swing to spin him around and send him to his knees, still holding onto his wrist. He starts to struggle and she pushes him further down, until he falls face first into the concrete of the walkway.

Everything around them has frozen and the man is still fighting Elizabeth’s hold. She holds his wrist to his back as she kneels down, one knee digging into his lower spine. “Hey Gary,” she calls out to the closest agent, “Can I get some help over here?”

Movement around them reasserts itself in a cacophony of sound and chaos. Jay hears the distinctive click of a camera and sees phones come out. He is worried less about managing the public image and more about getting to Elizabeth and Nadine, he starts to sprint over, but Kat stops him with a tug on his arm. “Don’t, I think they have it handled.” 

Sure enough Secret Service is handcuffing the man as he sputters and protests, his face dripping blood, from some injury. Elizabeth is watching calmly when he spits a mouthful of blood her way “Dumb fucking bitch,” he cries. She doesn’t break eye contact as she reaches up and swipes the blood off her cheek with her thumb. 

“Put your hands on anybody near me again and you’ll get worse.” Elizabeth’s voice is deadly and it rings with truth. She dismisses the attacker with a hand wave and turns to Nadine who is still standing motionless, Elizabeth wraps an arm around Nadine’s shoulders and leads her away, speaking quietly.

“Holy fuck,” Kat says at his side, then, quieter, “that was hot as hell.” Jay rolls his eyes. 

“Come on, we need to find Mike and figure out how we’re spinning this.”

“I don’t think this needs much spinning,” Kat replies but follows behind him.

Later, with quotes from Conrad about how Elizabeth received basic combat training at the CIA and how she’s never tolerated bullies, combined with the attacker’s long history of assaulting women being revealed, they are in the middle of a surprisingly positive news cycle. 

Jay is still trying to figure out how Elizabeth moved that fast and why half of the interns are walking around with even more stars in their eyes, but he leaves those mysteries for another day, deciding he needs to be satisfied that everyone is safe and that America is pleased that their future Commander-in-Chief can defend herself. 

[moody-blues-requiem]

Dullahan of the Opera (afab reader x Dullahan!Prosciutto)

SPOOKTACULAR FICS GO!

First up is the winner of the poll in a 3:1 victory, Dullahan Prosciutto! 

Fic is n/s/f/w, mild warning for semi-public sex. 

Enjoy!

Deep in the heart of Venizia and dressed to the nines on a temperate October evening, Prosciutto clasped your delicately gloved hand to his side as he guided you carefully along a narrow sidewalk. You were blindfolded, eyes hidden behind black silk, matching the simple, open-backed gown and elbow-length gloves you wore. Walking blindfolded in heels was a feat in itself, but one you managed with grace. You hoped Prosciutto wouldn’t be too distracted with guiding you to notice your impressive performance. Before he had put the blindfold on you, you’d gotten to see him in a different suit than his usual patterned one; rich black with gilded details, and of course, his usual pendant dangling from his neck. 

When asked why a blindfold, you were told to trust him. When asked where you were going, you were told to trust him. You trusted Prosciutto with your past, present, and future, but that didn’t stop you from playfully pouting at your lover. “Can I get a hint, at least?”

“Alright,” he said. “You’re wearing the blindfold because I want to surprise you with where we’re going.”

Even without your sight, you could feel the smug aura practically radiating from him. 

The sounds of the city around you changed as you approached your destination. You hear more voices, softly murmuring and mingling together, indicating a crowd of people. The light shifted just a touch warmer, you were approaching somewhere bright. Soft music played from some unseen source. Where…

Prosciutto placed his hands on your hips, stopping you from going any further. Sturdy fingers removed the blindfold over your head, carefully brushing your hair back into place after. The sudden light took a moment to adjust to, but once you could see you immediately recognized the building before. Tall and grey, with beautiful stone pillars, statues, and decorated with colorful flags. A sculpture of a bird adorned the entryway sign, but you didn’t need to read it to know where you were. One of the most famous opera houses in all of Italy, Il Teatro La Fenice. Prosciutto flashed two tickets in your direction, with a sly smile. “Private opera box,” he said. “Just for us.” 

It was rare for Prosciutto to splurge like this, but when he did, he went all out. Waiting for you in your private seating was a chilled wine that you knew had to cost at least half a job for him. Was it wrong to enjoy such finery at the cost of blood money? Maybe. Were you going to indulge yourself anyways? Absolutely. 

The show opened with a beautiful duet piece sung by a couple, a young woman and a slightly older gentleman. Something about restrained love-- even as a fluent Italian speaker, the way they sang could make the words difficult to understand, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. The passion in their voice spoke (or rather, sang) for them. The wine was delicious, the music beautiful, and your lover had his hand protectively on your thigh the whole time. Even alone in the opera box, he liked asserting a subtle dominance over you. 

It was a bit less subtle when, out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Prosciutto begin to nod off, but when you looked, his head was off his shoulders completely. 

You knew he was a dullahan. He’d taken his head off in front of you countless times. You’d never adjust perfectly to the sight of his stump neck, glistening red with blood that didn’t flow like the blood in your body. He’d explained that it was perfectly natural for his species of fae to be able to remove and reattach their head at will, and no, it didn’t hurt. He could still talk, and even eat with a detached head and the food would still make it to his stomach. “Fae magic, I don’t know”, he said, as if that were a perfectly good explanation. “Why is that harder to believe than a detachable head?” 

The blonde passed his head from one hand to the other, delicately placing it in your lap. You tore your eyes away from the singer on stage to look down, met with the sight of a smirking Prosciutto. “You *did* get my text about what to wear, didn’t you? Or more specifically, what not to wear?”

You… had an idea of where this was going. Prosciutto had asked you to forgo your panties for the evening, though you assumed that would be for when you got home, or maybe the car ride… and a while back, months ago, he’d asked your thoughts on sex in public. 

“Not just out in the open, no,” you’d said. “Maybe something more private, where we could get caught but probably won’t… I think I could do that.”

And then he just… never acted on it. So you forgot. Until now, of course, as he looked up at you with a fire in his eyes. “Pull up your dress, love. Let me see.” 

You kept Prosciutto balanced expertly in your lap while you maneuvered the dress up over your knees, the slit over the left leg making it easier to pull the material back and expose yourself. The thought of anyone other than Prosciutto seeing you like this made your cheeks flush a deep pink, which only darkened as Prosciutto spoke again. “Show me, [y/n]. I’m afraid you’ll have to hold me, my hands are a bit occupied.”

Careful not to mess up Prosciutto’s hair, you held his head back and spread your legs, giving him a nice view of you. You’d shaved everything, just as he liked. Already the thought of being so impure with your boyfriend, here of all places, had you glistening wet with excitement. You turned your head just a bit to glance over at Prosciutto’s body, and nearly dropped the man’s head when you saw his cock out, flushed a deep red and leaking precum, hard and desperate for attention. 

“Careful!” Prosciutto hissed. “But I could see just how you responded to that…. You got even wetter, didn’t you, naughty little girl? Give me a taste, before I let you play.” 

You brought his head in close, enveloping him between warm thighs and the scent of your desperation, earning an aroused growl from Prosciutto’s clenched teeth before he dove in with his tongue. For as prim and proper as he was in other respects, there was absolutely no decorum when it came to eating you out; he went at you like a man starved. Lapping at you with feverish strokes, fucking you with his tongue, letting the end of his nose rub over your clit just to heighten your sensations farther. Your hips bucked and rolled against his severed head, but he was kept firmly in place by your clenching thighs. 

When you felt your thighs growing shaky, Prosciutto growled. “Enough,” he said, between gasps for air. “Set me on the table, where I can see my body. I want you to fuck yourself with my cock, darling. Don’t stop until you cum on me, but if you dirty that suit one bit the dry-cleaning bill is on you.”

Prosciutto’s eyes were practically glued to your body as you, pulling up your dress a bit to give him an even better view, slid yourself down onto his waiting cock. Prosciutto groaned, the combination of your wet walls surrounding him with the sight of his cock disappearing into your tight hole was incredible. You groaned as his length slid perfectly inside of you, as if you were made to take him. Prosciutto regularly reminded you that you were. 

“Move,” he commanded, barely audible over the voice of the opera lead beginning an emotional solo piece. “Fuck yourself on me, amore, go…”

You wasted no time, swirling your hips over his lap before setting a slow pace up and down, bouncing, feeling his length push just a bit further with every thrust. His hands grasped your hip bones like handles, commanding you to go deeper and faster. You tilted your head down to nip at his collarbones, both to tease your boyfriend and to help silence your desperate little sounds. The opera singer’s voice dominated the large auditorium, but you didn’t want your own little solo to accompany hers. 

You found your hips moving in pace with the song, a ballad fiery with passion and… maybe anger, you weren’t exactly paying attention, but the tempo and feeling of the song compelled you to move faster and faster, moan a little louder, clench a little harder around Prosciutto’s cock… The man’s head was biting his lower lip, blue eyes blown wide with lust. “Fuck, amore, I’m close,” he whispered. “Keep going. I want to feel you cum, I want-- I *need* to fill you up.”

“Prosciutto, please!” you gasped. You could feel your end approaching as the song reached its’ fervent peak. “Please please please--”

Prosciutto growled, wilder and more unrestrained than you’d seen him before. His manicured nails were digging into the skin of your hips. “Cum for me, amore, now!” 

You fell apart at his command. Stars danced in your vision, the song faded in and out of your ears, masked by the waves of pleasure overtaking your whole body. Distantly you could feel something thick and warm filling you up, Prosciutto’s cock pumping into you, his hands pulling you in close. You were sweaty, disheveled, but you didn’t care. Let those fancy opera-goers see who gave you pleasure unmatched. Let them see the inevitable stain on Prosciutto’s suit (oops). The body beneath you leaned over, grabbing Prosciutto’s head and returning it to his shoulders before the man leaned in for a kiss, ruling his fingers through your now-messy hair. 

“That was incredible, Pros,” you whispered against his lips. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, dear. And besides,” he looked over your shoulder, just in time to see the woman on stage bow at the crowd’s thunderous applause. “We still have two acts left.”

[sheerfreesia007]

Yes Ma’am

Title: Yes Ma’am

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 682

Warnings: Smut, Girl on top, cursing, dominant reader

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Author Notes: So dominant reader was requested but I can’t remember if the whole “yes ma’am” or if I just put it on the WIP list. Anyhoo! Here’s a short little dirty fic featuring the words “Yes Ma’am.” Enjoy! I loved writing this one! Feedback is always appreciated!

P.s: I miss writing for Whiskey. And I can’t wait to get back to writing series for him after this month! (It’s a toss up about which one I wanna write though. I’ve got 2 in mind. I might do a poll with you guys.)

Gif Credit: Google

“Only rule is you have to do what I say.” she says sweetly to him and Jack knows he’s a goner. She’s kneeling above on the bed as he lays back propped up on the pillows. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this but he thinks it had to do with those pretty eyes of her pleading with him silently to let her take charge in bed. How could he say no to her?

         “Yes Ma’am.” he says softly and waits for her instructions. She grins at his words there’s a wicked little lilt to that grin that only spells trouble for him.

         “No touching.” she whispers to him and leans closer to press a soft sweet kiss to his lips that doesn’t correlate with their situation of being naked in bed with each other at all.

         “Yes Ma’am.” he repeats breathlessly once she pulls away and he watches as those pretty eyes flash with a dangerous look towards him. Her hands land on his chest and her fingers curl so that her nails are pressed into his skin. She drags them down his chest and he watches as red lines appear quickly in their wake. 

         One hand slides farther down to circle his hard cock and he jerks at her touch grunting softly. While her other hand slides back up onto his chest and pushes him further into the pillow behind him. She crawls on her knees up the bed closer to him as her hand around his cock begins to pump him steadily. He moans out loudly and throws his head back while his hands fists in the sheets under him.

         “Does that feel good?” she asks softly and sweetly and he groans loudly.

         “Yes Ma’am.” he pants out harshly as his head lifts to look down at her hand pumping along his length.

         “Do you like watching me jerk you off?” she asks curiously and he nods his head. “Answer me.” she snips out fiercely and his eyes dart to hers where she stares at him heatedly.

         “Yes Ma’am.” he responds in awe as he watches her shift into the dominant role in the bedroom. He watches as she lets go of his cock and he mourns the loss of her touch before she’s lifting up to straddle him. Her hand is back on him positioning him just right before she slides down onto him and he groans.

         “Fuck you’re always so big.” she gasps out softly and he moans as his hands land on her hips to steady her. Suddenly her head snaps up to stare at him and her hands cover his gripping tightly. “I said no touching.” she hisses softly at him and he widens his eyes at her.

         “Yes Ma’am.” he says apologetically but she raises his hands to rest on the pillow under his head. She nods her head and begins to raise up on his cock before slamming back down onto him. “Yes Ma’am!” he shouts loudly the infliction on the last syllable of the word in his sentence giving the word a whole other meaning.

         “You feel so good inside of me.” she says kindly as she continues to bounce on his cock. Her breasts are swaying in front of his face but he doesn’t move to kiss them like he wants to, he remembers her instructions. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” she gasps out as her pace and bouncing speed up. “Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart?” she asks softly.

         “Yes Ma’am.” he responds and she slams down on him again and grinds her hips in a circle on him as her walls clamp down onto his cock. He moans loudly and thrusts upwards once before feeling his orgasm rush him.

         She’s laying sprawled out on his chest now. The two of them have come down from their highs and they are currently floating pleasantly in the afterglow. He smiles down at her and she grins up at him the two of them moving to meet in the middle with a soft tender loving press of their lips together.

[yusuke-of-valla]

like rats fleeing a sinking ship, pt. 10

Whumptober 2020 Day 15: Into The Unknown

Prompt: Possession

TW: guns, fight scenes, canon typical violence

<- Previous Next ->

AO3

~

Only the tips of some of the tallest buildings are visible from where Kasumi stands on Shido’s ship. Akira had warned her about this, but it’s still off-putting. The rest of Tokyo was still normal in the previous two Palaces she’d seen.

Kasumi doesn’t want to think about what that means about the ruler.

“Are you ready to go?” Akec- er Crow asks, tapping a boot against the deck of the ship.

“Sorry!” Kasumi says.

“We need to give Yoshizawa a codename first though.” Mona points out.

Crow stares at her for a second. “Gymnast?”

“We’re not calling her that.” Skull says. “How about… Red?”

“At least my idea was unique to her. That could just as easily describe Panther.”

“But Panther’s already Panther, so.”

“How about Mist?” Joker suggests. “You know, since it’s Kasumi in English?”

“Isn’t that a little tasteless?” Crow asks.

“It’s better than Gymnast ”

“That’s not-”

“I love it!” Kasumi says. “From now on, I’ll be Mist.”

Crow tilts his head at her for a second, but throws his arms up. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go.”

Joker takes the lead, putting Mist, Crow, and Noir in the front group. Mona and Queen hold back and focus on navigating. 

The Palace is crawling with shadows, and Joker leads them through the halls, until eventually they arrive at a large pair of doors.

“So this is where the Treasure is?” Mist asks.

“Yep, we’ve got three of the five letters of recommendation we need,” Panther says. “We were still going to grab info about the IT company president since he apparently never leaves his room.”

“We can go over the plan once we get to the safe room down the hall.” 

Mist goes ahead a bit and stops at a door. “This one?” she asks.

“Yep.”

Mist pushes the door open.

“Duck!” 

She drops to the ground before the Shadow behind the door can swing at where her head was, and Joker is quick to shoot it.

The guard stumbles backwards, then splits into three shadows.

One that looks like a large white lion breathes fire at her, but Mist manages to cartwheel out of the way, just barely singed. She isn’t so lucky when another shadow, a big snowman king thing swings his staff at her.

“Mist!” 

Queen throws out her hand, and suddenly a golden wall like a vault appears in front of Mist, and though she takes the hit, it doesn’t hurt as much.

“Thanks Queen!” Mist says. She calls Cendrillion to pierce the shadow with  Illusory swords. 

Joker pulls his new gun out, and blasts a ray of ice at the lion-shaped shadow, freezing it solid. In the meantime, Noir and Crow have managed to knock down the other two, and Joker gives the signal to finish them off.

Ths shadows defeated, Mist takes a second to catch her breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Joker pants, “there should definitely have been a safe room there, though.”

“There was.” Mona says. “It’s not there anymore.”

“So Shido’s cognition is shifting,” Queen says.

Skull scratches his head. “So what? Like, the cocky bastard feels like he has more control over things, so there aren’t as many places where the cognition is weaker.”

“Something like that.” Crow says.

“Wow. I didn’t think I could hate him more!” Skull sighs. “On the bright side, new gun’s working well!”

Joker grins and reloads the gun Skull had designed for him. Skull had explained earlier that while realistic guns were useful, since the Metaverse was based on cognition, they could probably get away with using guns that wouldn’t work in reality but were accurate replicas of weapons from movies and video games. Joker’s new freeze ray was a replica of a villain’s weapon from the Cake Knight Rises movies.

“Well there have to still be some safe rooms around, right?” Panther asks.

“Sure, they’ll just be fewer and farther between,” Queen explains. “It’s not ideal, but it’s still manageable. We just need to do our best to conserve energy.”

Joker nods. “We’ll switch up our strategy to rotate people out a bit more frequently.”

“Sounds good.” Noir says. “Anyway, I believe the last time we were here, we were going to try the restaurant to see about getting up to the IT president’s room.”

Everyone nods, and they make their way to the restaurant. Mist is impressed with how efficiently Joker leads them around corners, and the way he seems to know where enemies are. There’s a swell of pride in her chest when she sees Joker backflip away from a shadow to get the drop on it. 

They do eventually find a safe room that is still a safe room, and they rest there for a bit before checking the restaurant.

They get the room number from the restaurant, then head to the side deck of the ship.

“Crow, are you alright?” Mist asks at one point when they’re both in the reserve group.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re just trailing behind the others, I was worried something was wrong.”

Crow shrugs. “I’m just focused on the mission.”

“Sure but even fights, the others compliment each other and stuff but you’re mostly quiet.”

“Why would I? I’m not part of the team, or anything.”

“You’re not?” Mist asks, tilting her head a bit.

“No, I am definitely not.”

“Oh,” Mist says, trying to conceal her smile.

“That makes you happy?”

“No! No, I’m sorry,” Mist says quickly. “I guess it just makes me feel better that I’m not the only outsider on the team.”

“I wouldn't really call you an outsider. They definitely consider you an equal part of their team.”

“But not you?”

“No.”

“Well,” Mist says, “even if they would consider me part of the team, I think I’ll stay back here with you. I don’t want you to be lonely after all.”

“I’m fine.”

“Nope,” Mist says, grinning. “Still going to stick around.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew everything about me,” Crow says in a threatening tone.

Mist hums. “I think I would. I can tell, senpai. You may be a more… intense kind of person than I was expecting, but you care deep down.”

Crow stops for a second, then runs to catch up with Mist. “Anyway, while it’s just the two of us, I meant to ask you something earlier. Why does Joker keep calling you ‘Kasumi’?”

“Senpai! Codenames. ”

“Huh?”

“You’re supposed to use my codename, not my real name,” Mist admonishes.

“But-”

“Hey, hurry up, we’re here!” Skull shouts.

“Sorry,” Mist replies, hopping across balconies to join the others.

“Not a problem,” Joker says. “So this seems like the president’s room, we just have to figure out how to get the letter of recommendation out of him.”

“Ask nicely?” Crow says, holding up his gun pointedly.

Queen shakes her head. “We want to avoid a fight as much as possible, if we can. We still need to get the letter from the Cleaner after all.”

“It wouldn’t be much of a fight, I assure you.”

“How did you get the other letters?” Mist asks.

“Well we basically just asked for most of them. In some cases we had to lie to convince them we deserved it, but yeah.” Skull says.

“So we should just go in and ask?” 

“That might not be a good idea,” Mona says, frowning. “With the way Shido’s cognition has been shifting recently, the shadows might recognize you as the Phantom Thieves right away, even if you changed.”

“Well, I’m not wanted. I could ask,” Mist offers.

“Are you sure?” Panther asks.

“Sure! Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”

Mist climbs into the IT president’s room. “Hello, sir!” she says cheerily.

The president startles backwards. “Huh? Who are you?”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m looking to get a letter of introduction to Mr. Shido,” Mist says, “and I’m just such a big fan of your company and your work, that I had to ask you!”

The president looks skeptical, and Mist continues.

“I know you’re a very private person, but since you’re Mr. Shido’s favorite co-conspirator, I thought I just had to get his letter over anyone else’s!”

“Well, Captain Shido does appreciate my genius,” the president says after a moment.” You know I created the fake Mejed for him and manipulated the results of the Phantom Thieves’ polls? And I erased all this Cognitive Psience research, clean off the net!

“Wow! That’s so astounding!” Mist says. “No wonder Mr. Shido speaks so highly of you! So can I have a letter?”

“Well, you’ve convinced me.” The IT president points to the desk, and one of the women in the room with him grabs a pen and paper off of it. “So tell me, are you a fan of my companies’ products?”

“Yes, sir! Huge fan!”

“Then you’ve got the latest model phone?”

“Uh, well no. I mean, my dad won’t let me get a new one.”

“So you have last year’s?”

“Can you just give me the letter.”

The president rips the letter from the note pad and holds it back. “Show me your phone.”

Reluctantly, Mist pulls out her phone. 

The IT president nearly gags at the sight of it. “That thing is ancient. You’re no fan of my company!”

“Are you serious?” Mist groans. “Uggh, fine.” She lunges forward and grabs the letter out of the IT president’s hands.

“You little- I’ll kill you!” the president roars before he and the women with him transform into shadows.

“You could have just given me the letter!” Mist shouts, dodging his attacks. “Guys, I could use some help!”

The other Phantom Thieves burst into the room. Panther is the first to act, wrapping her whip around one of the shadows beside the IT president and sending a jolt of electricity through it, shocking the shadow. Joker shoots it, causing it to drop to the ground.

The IT president meanwhile is still focused on Mist, who blocks one of his attacks with Cendrillion. Skull takes the opportunity to use the bed as a spring board, jumping on the shadow and slamming his pipe down on its head.

“Gah!” the shadow president cries, but Crow doesn’t give him much time to react, rushing forward and having Loki unleash a brutal barrage of attacks on it.

Noir uses psykokinesis to take down the other shadow, knocking all three of them down. 

At Joker’s cue, the Phantom Thieves attack simultaneously.

The shadows revert to their more humanoid forms.

“Anything you want to tell us?” Mona demands.

“N-no! I don’t know anything about the mental shutdowns, I just or anything, I just extracted, deleted, and encrypted the research! I promise.” 

“So you’re useless to us, then,” Crow says, pointing his gun at the IT president’s head.

“Crow, no!” Mist says, grabbing his arm.

Crow scoffs. “Fine, let’s go.”

Once everyone is back on the balcony, Mist turns to the others. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get the letter.”

“Oh you were fine,” Panther says, patting Mist on the shoulder. “That went about as well as literally every other time we tried to get a letter.”

“But you said to avoid a fight.”

“And you did the best you could!” Queen says. “You were great, believe me.”

Mist feels a weight leave her shoulders. “Thank you! I’m happy to help!”

“Hell yeah! So that’s four letters down, one to go,” Skull says. “We just need to get something from that Cleaner guy next, right?”

“We’ve checked all over the ship though, where could he be?” Mona asks.

“The engine?” Joker suggests.

Panther frowns. “Have we seen an engine, though?”

“Skull noticed smoke before,” Queen points out.

“So let’s find a way into the engine room.”

After a bit of searching, Joker eventually spots a grate with smoke coming out of it. “I think this is our way in,” he says.

They bust the grate open, and crawl through the vents. Sure enough, it empties out into the engine room, and they can see the Cleaner.

“There he is!” Mona whispers.

“Can we do this my way?” Crow asks.

“I don’t know,” Noir says. 

“He’s Yakuza, we’re not going to be able to just ask him nicely,” Crow bites back.

“I think Crow’s right, Noir,” Joker says. “We might just have to fight through this one.”

Crow grins. “Thank you!”

“Hey, you!” Crow calls out as soon as they’re out of the vents.

The Cleaner turns around and groans when he sees them. “What?” 

“We need a letter of introduction to see Shido.”

“Sorry, can’t help you,” he says, shrugging. “I’m fresh out.”

Crow summons Loki. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Crow, look out!” Mona calls, suddenly.

Crow turns around just inside to avoid the bullet that ricochets off the metal walls of the engine room.

“Don’t worry, I can handle these ones,” the cognitive Goro Akechi says, grinning maniacally.

“Sounds great,” the Cleaner replies, walking off.

“Oh no you don’t!” Skull shouts, chasing after him, but Cognitive Akechi snaps his fingers and suddenly a group of Shadows appear in Skull’s path, knocking him back.

“Skull!” Panther shouts, running to his side.

“I’m fine,” Skull mutters as he sits up

“Now, I can finally get rid of you all at once!” Cognitive Akechi says. “Our glorious captain will be so happy.”

“I’m going to enjoy wiping that smug look off of your face,” Crow says. He pulls out his sword and charges towards Cognitive Akechi, but Cognitive Akechi dodges.

A shadow leaps towards Crow, but Mist manages to knock it away with a well-timed strike from Cendrillion. “Careful, Crow!”

Crow grits his teeth. “I’m fine!”

“Skull, Noir, Panther! Handle the small fry,” Joker says. “The rest of us need to focus on the Cognitive Akechi!

Everyone except Crow, who’s mainly focused on attacking his double, gives their affirmations.

Queen summons Anat and boosts everyone’s defense, while Mona attacks Cognitive Akechi aside. Unfortunately, Cognitive Akechi blasts Crow away with an Almighty attack and kicks Mona across the room like he’s a soccer ball.

“Loki!” Crow calls, “Laevateinn!” The Persona appears in a burst of energy and rushes at Cognitive Akechi, causing him to stumble backwards.

Meanwhile, Noir summons Astarte to unload  hail of bullets on the shadows while Panther heals Skull up. Skull’s quick to get back on his feet and has Seiten Taisei sends ripples of electricity through the metal floor to hit all of the shadows.

While Cognitive Akechi is focused on Crow and Loki, Mist catches him off guard with a Kougaon. The bless attack calls him to stumble back, dazed.

“He’s weak to bless!” Queen calls out.

Crow grins. “Perfect.” With a flick of his wrist, Loki disappears and Robin Hood appears in its place. Joker follows his cue and switches to Dominion, and they follow up with two bless attacks of their own.

The cognition drops to one knee, panting. Crow strides over to him, and points a gun at his doppleganger’s head. “Well, this has been fun, but I’ve had enough of you.”

“Oh, I assure you, the fun isn’t over,” Cognitive Akechi says. He snaps his fingers again, and Crow doesn’t have time to attack before another shadow rushes him.

Joker quickly uses his grappling hook to pull the shadow off of Crow, but in that time, another reinforcement has healed Cognitive Akechi up.

Crow summons Robin Hood and cast Kougaon again, but instead of knocking him down, the attack is reflected back in Crow’s direction.

“Shit,”

“I got ya!” Mona says, healing Crow.

Crow looks around and sees the others aren’t fairing much better. The new reinforcements are overwhelming them, to the point that Noir has been knocked out and Queen has to help Panther and Skull fend them off.

“Aw, Akechi, are you worried about your friends?” Cognitive Akechi asks. “Don’t worry, you really should be more worried about yourself.”

Suddenly, a curse attacks rams into Akechi’s side, sending him across the room. When he looks up, he expects to see a shadow, but instead it’s Joker stalking towards him with a blank expression.

“Joker-senpai, what are you doing?” Mist asks.

“He’s been brainwashed,” Mona explains.

“That’s just great .” Crow spits out. Joker charges towards him, knife drawn, but Crow manages to parry with his sword. 

“Mona-senpai, what do we do?” Mist asks.

“We have to find the shadow that’s brainwashing Joker and defeat it.”

“Alright! Hold on Crow, don’t hurt him too much,” Mist shouts as she attacks the shadow Joker had been fighting.

“No guarantees,” Crow mutters under his breath.

Mist and Mona manage to defeat the shadow Joker had been fighting, but it doesn’t help.

“Mona, which one brainwashed him?” Mist asks.

“I don’t know!” Mona says. There are about five shadows left, and they have no way of knowing which one brainwashed Joker.

Crow drops down and sweeps Joker’s legs. While Joker’s down, Crow tries to charge at his cognitive double again.

Unfortunately, he feels something wrap around his leg, and Crow’s legs are pulled out from under him by Joker’s grappling hook. He tries to get up quickly, but just ends up staring down the barrel of Joker’s gun.

“This has been fun, hasn’t it?” Cognitive Akechi says.

“Joker! Don’t do it!” Mist calls, but Joker doesn’t react. She tries to run over to sop him, but one of the other shadows stands in her path.

“Damn it!” Mona says, helping Mist. “Joker, you have to snap out of it!”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Cognitive Akechi says, watching as all the other Thieves are occupied with the shadows. “Now then, I think it’s finally time to take out the trash. Any final words.”

“Fuck you.”

Cognitive Akechi rolls his eyes, and motions for Joker to shoot. 

Joker pulls the trigger, and a bang goes off.

But.

Instead of the feeling of a bullet entering his skull, a shimmering barrier appears in front of Crow that seems to have absorbed the attack. 

Before anyone can really attack, a large chunk of ice flies right past Cognitive Akechi, hitting and freezing another shadow instead.

“Fox, you idiot, you missed! ” Crow shouts as Fox rushes into the engine room.

“I wasn’t aiming for him, Crow,” Fox shouts as he shatters the shadow. Suddenly, Joker clutches his head and stumbles backwards. “And that’s not the polite way to thank someone for saving your life.”

“Fox?” Joker says, still shaking his head. “God, I hate being brainwashed. How’d you get here?”

“I saw you guys were in trouble so we got here as fast as we could!” Joker jumps at the sound of Oracle’s voice. “F- Oracle ! Where’d you come from?”

“We can explain later,” Oracle says, “for now, you might want to get rid of that other shadow that can brainwash people.”

“A-Alright,” Joker says, before summoning Arsene and attacking the shadow Oracle pointed out.

Fox helps Mona and Mist, allowing Mona to revive Noir. Queen hits the two remaining shadows with a massive nuclear attack, destroying them

Meanwhile, Crow goes back to focusing on his double. 

“Noir, while he’s distracted, use psykokinesis on the cognition!” Oracle says as soon as she’s up.

“When did-”

“We’ll explain later!” Oracle snaps, “just do it!” 

Haru does, and the blast causes Cognitive Akechi to stumble backwards, allowing Crow to get a good hit on him.

“He’s switched resistances again!” Oracle says. “Ok, before he gets the chance to call for more reinforcements... uh… new girl! Hit the cognition with another bless attack.”

“Oh, me?” Mist asks. “Ok! Cendrillion!”

“Now we need fire, Panther!” Oracle calls out!

“Hecate!”

“Don’t let up! Hit him Skull!”

“Seiten Taisei!”

With each hit, Cognitive Akechi looks worse and worse for wear. He’s clutching his side and panting.

“He’s on his last legs! We just need to hit him with a curse attack.”

Crow locks eyes with Joker. “Ready?”

Joker smirks. “More than ever.”

“Loki!”

“Arsene!”

“Eigaon,” the shout simultaneously. The two personas work in tandem, unleashing a curse attack that pushes Cognitive Akechi straight into the wall. The cognition tries to get up, but ultimately dissolves.

“Finally.” Crow sighs.

Suddenly, Skull shouts. “What the hell?”

Crow and Joker quickly pull their weapons to deal with the new threat.

“What’s wrong?” Joker asks.

“Oracle’s a ghost!” To prove his point, Skull sticks his hand through Oracle’s head.

“I’m not a ghost. I’m broadcasting into the Metaverse from outside Tokyo,” Oracle says.

“You can do that?” Queen gasps.

“With a lot of help. I met these guys called the shadow operatives, and a couple of them have the same powers as me so we can combine them to increase the range of my scanning.”

“Woah, really?” Panther asks.

“Yeah. Oh also, one of the people helping me is Rise Kujikawa, by the way.”

Panther’s eyes widen. “Ok now you’re messing with me!”

“No she’s legit here! Say hi Rise!”

Futaba’s form flickers and Rise Kujikawa stands in front of them. “Hello!”

“Oh my gosh it’s Risette.” Mist gasps.

“This is the coolest thing to have happened to me, ever.” Skull says. “Can I get an autograph?”

“I can give one to Futaba-chan for you!” Risette says. Then her form shifts again, and Futaba is back.

“Thank you! That’s the reaction I was looking for! Inari wasn’t impressed at all!”

“I told you that I was happy for you.” Fox says, walking towards the others with a slight limp.

“This is the coolest thing ever, I was expecting something a bit more excited!”

“Alright,” Queen says before the bickering can get out of hand. “We need to return to the real world soon, we’re all pretty banged up.”

“We still need to get that last letter of recommendation!” Crow says.

“None of us can handle another fight,” Mona says. “And you were the one that said we probably weren’t going to get a letter from the Cleaner by asking nicely!”

“We don’t have time to waste though!”

“Um if all we need is the Cleaner’s letter,” Fox says, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve got that one.”

The other Thieves stare at him. 

“How?” Joker asks.

Fox and Oracle share a look.

“There’s a lot you need to catch up on,” Oracle says. “Lemme find you guys a safe room nearby, then Fox can tell you the whole story.”

[sockpansy]

Lost At Sea

Hey! This is a fic based off of two drawings done by the amazing @thelazyblueshipper who gave me permission to write a fic!

Warnings: blood mention, ghosts, kidnapping (its too a mermaid) and let me know if I need to tag anything else!

_______

Roman had wanted to do it for years, ever since the pirates found out about them. Ever since they started to take, kill, sell their kind.

Roman wanted to stop them.

But Logan wouldnt let him.

"Its too dangerous Roman! As long as we stay farther down and away from nets, we can be safe."

"But then we have no freedom! We are confined to the deep waters only! We have to watch how fast we go, we can even float on the surface to sunbath!"

"But if they catch us, we die." Logan spat. "If we go after them, we Will get caught, then what do you suggest we do?"

Roman fell silent, not able to make a reasonable agrument.

"There are ships we could fix up easily and-"

"No Roman."

That had been the end of that argument.

_____

"Help! Help!" Patton sped through the water in search of someone, anyone who could help.

He found Roman and Logan, who had heard him and came as fast as they could.

"Patton! Calm down padre, what's wrong? Predator? Underwater volcano?"

"Virgil!" Pattin cried.

Logan looked around."where....is Virgil? Patton what happened?"

Patton's tears floated in thw water. "I just wanted to go above for a little bit, i didnt know they were so close! I didnt know there net was so close!"

The rest was lost in cries, but it was obvious what happened. Virgil had saved Patton but got caught by pirates instead.

"Roman." Logan starred at the water above them.

"We need a ship."

_____

Luckily, Roman knew were a ship was in...ok condition and not filled with water completely.

"How did you even find this?" Patton asked as they arrived at a small islabd with an old ship on it. It had a hole in the side and a broken mast,but was rather alright.

"Before we started to stay under, I found it."

"We better get to work if we want to get Virgil back before they reach a port then." Logan was still unsure, but...they couldnt just leave Virgil,to be sold or...killed, if he wasnt already.

_____

It took a few days to fix the ship, but they found swords, and old clothes they could wear when they transform in homaniod forms. Roman was the self proclaimed captain, with logan as the firdt mate who has some common since. Patton was the one incharge of leading the way to Virgil right now.

But logan still worried. They only had three people, a small, barely afloat ship, and they are all secretly mermaids. They were up agianst a full pirate crew, on a big ship, who catch mermaids.

They needed a plan.

"We need a plan." Logan said one night. "We can't just attack, we will be killed or captured."

Patton looked down."if I just stayed away..."

"Patton, we have been over this, it isnt your fault, and we sre gdtting virgil back." Roman said, tilting his captain's hat up.

Patton sniffled but nods, pushing his new glasses up. (He put on a random pair and found out that he can see a lot better with them, same with Logan)

Logan,nods as he thought."we could go under the cover of night, but even then they will have people awake and ready to fight..."

"What about during a storm?" Roman suggested.

"What?"

"Well they will be busy with the storm right? We can show hi in mermaid form, get in, pretend to be part of the crew, get virgil out and only have the fight if we get caught." Roman suggested.

Patton lit up."that could work! Its dark during storms, and...and if they see our patched up ship, they can think its a ghost ship!"

Logan nods along as he listened. "It...could work...that we need some way to have our clothes when we are in the water so we can change quickly..."

Roman hummed."we could...get dressed on there ship?"

Logan shook his head."too wierd and supious."

"We could pretend to be crew members who fell over?" Patton suggested.

Logan nods, "yes...but only one of us, it will be easier to get one then...and other two will stay on the ship and act as ghosts." He grinned ad the plan started to come together.

_____

Virgil didnt know how much time past. He remembered pushing Patton away from a net, just cor his tall to get caught, he remmebered being hauled up over the ocean. He remembered being out in a barrel filled with water, and a lid being put on with holes so he could breath. But he lpst count of the days and nights he spent in there.

He had given up after day two, accepting his fate.

He could feel a few rain drops through the holes in the lid, and couls hear yelljng do the ship didnt get blown off course.

Then he heard screams for help.

A scream from the water.

That sounds way to familiar.

Pattin was screaming for help. They caught him.

Virgil started to fight inside the barrel, knowing full well that it was tied up so he coulsnt move it or knock it over, but he ahd to try. Patton was in danger. Why wasn't Roman or Logan with him!

He could hear pattin on the ship.

"Thank you, i fell off in the storm."

Wait, what?

He couldnt hear much after that, because there was yelling about a...ghost...ship?

It wasnt long before his barrel was opened and Patton stared st hin in human form. He,smiled and held a finger to hus mouth to tell Virgil to stay quiet. Held helped Virgil out of the barrel and threw him over into the ocean, and Patton jumped in after him, transforming once he was in the water and gathering up his clothes.

"Hey Virgil, long story short, we need to get to the pirate ship."

"But we just got off it!" Virgil said, before coughing. He hasn't used his voice in a while. Patton just grabbed his hand and swam to a different, smaller boat.

Patton helped viegil onto the boat and Virgil saw Roman and Logan standing and facing the other boat in human forms, as if daring them to attack in thus storm.

Patton put on his clothes as he got out some for Virgil. "Ok, short story longer, im so sorry I got you captured! We fixed up an old boat Roman found and came up with a plan to save you. I pretend to have fallen overboard in a storm, they gwt me up, i fins you, Roman and Logan pretend to be pirates on a ghost ship, and we are all free!" By the time he finished talking, Virgil was dressed and then hugged tightly.

"Im sorry i wasnt more careful Virgil...you could have been..could have..could...could have..." Patton sniffles aa he held virgil tight.

Virgil hugged back."im right here pat, i promise, id do it agian to save you in a heartbeat."

_____

The ship turned away from the other and left the storm. Once a safe distance away, Virgil was covered in hugs.

Virgil smiled as he stood and loked st his pirate clothes, "ya know guys...why dont we do this all the time?"

"Uh Virgil, I dont think getting caught is something id like to makw a habit." Roman suggested.

"No, i mean...saving mermaids. You guys have a plan that worked. And with an extra person, you have a bigger crew. Why cant we save more of our kind before we are the only ones left?"

"I agree with Virgil." Patton smiled. "And i like being in the sun." He giggled.

Roman tipped his hat grinning. "And ive been wanting to do this forever!"

They all looked st Logan. The first mate. The logical one. The one who fixes plot holes and makes sure everyone is safe.

He gave a smile. "Well, we have to name the ship first, dont we?"

____

It took a while, but soon, a legend was born for the small crew.

Legends that say that if you are a pirate crew transporting mermaids, avoid storms.

For in a storm, you will come across a ship called 'the Siren' with ghosts on it.

No one knows how many are on the ship. They only know that there are always four who will always be seen at one point.

There is a boy with square glasses and a dark blue bandana around hus forehead. If you see him in the ship, watch him, for if he gets into the water, your ship will sink.

Then there is a boy with round glasses, and a light blue scarf around his waist. He seems sweet, but it will be too late when you realize it is him. He is a spy who boards your ships as crew. He is the reason you get caught.

There is a boy with purple hair and eyes. Much like dark blue, beg that he stays on the ghost ship. If you don't see him, then you must fear everything around you. You never know what he will take. Food, gold, your life, maybe all three.

Then there is the captain, who stands at the end of the bowsprit, sword held at his side. It is said that his eyes are red with the blood of those who he has fought, and if you get close enough to see the color, he will add your blood to his eyes as well.

The legends warns you to be wary of boys with light blue eyes on on your ship. To stay clean of storms. To release mermaids when you see the ship, so many you will live to tell about the encounter.

Legend says that it is safer to let mermaids be free.

____________________

Yes i was tempted to name the ship lamp.

And done! First off, i know i kinda skipped around, but in happy with how thiz this turned out!

Bowsprit: the poll thingy at the front of a ship

Also! Some things i wanted to to say! The crew does get bigger. Some mermaids they save decide to,join, others will stay until they heal if they are injured then leave. Others stay to repay a debt, so the amount of crew members change.

At the end, the legend talks about each side a bit, and i wsnt to explain why i chose to do that the way i did!

Logan is logic. He is smart and you can do a lot of damage (probably) to the bottom of a boat if you know what your doing. He breaks boats (with help from other crew members) to make them sink. But only some.

Patton is morality. He is cute and sweet and he volunteered to be the spy. He joins crews and finds out how many mermaids are on board and finds a way to get the ship into a storm. Sometimes he will disappear from a crew ship a few days ans reappear like he never left. He swims right under it and will go inform the sides about the boat by leaving at night.

Virgil as Aniexty. He causes fear. Patton will tell him were gold is, food rations, and on occasion, jerks who need to be taught a permanent lesson. He sneaks on and steals, throws overboard, does anything to inconvence the pirates.and because well...they are pirates,too, they need money!

Roman is creativity. And he is the captain. And what js scarier than the red eyss he has? He started the rumoe about his eyes himself, and does sword fight on occasion. I just feel it fits him to stand dramatically xD

Part 2:

https://sockpansy.tumblr.com/post/179462778629/gaining-a-crew

[p-artsypants]

Boy Toy- Act I

At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is now where to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It's safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

I’m still working on Arcadia or Bust, but I have this weird AU already finished from like forever ago. I know I’ve been doing a lot of AUs lately, but I just really love them. 

AO3 | FF.net

----

“No! I won’t go! You can’t make me!” She screamed as she threw herself on the bed. The princess kicked her perfect dainty legs into the mattress.

“It’s rude to skip out on a party,” her beloved servant, Tuff, stated.

“Especially your birthday party,” his twin sister, Ruff, replied.

Astrid looked up from where she had her face buried in her pillow. “But there’s going to be so many people that I’m going to have to shake hands with. And you know Uncle is going to stuff me into a dress.” She hid her face again. “I’m not doing it!”

The two servants looked at each other and sighed. “Why do we do this?” Tuff asked. “You whine and complain, and then you know your uncle is going to make you go anyway, even if he has to carry you in.”

Astrid rolled over on her back. “I don’t like your attitude. I took you off the streets, and I’ll put you back on them.”

Ruff smiled at the princess, looking in her closet for the right dress. “You can, but you won’t.”

Tuff sat on the mattress casually. “Yeah, then who would you throw your axe at? One of the other servants?”

Astrid mumbled. “They always flinch and get hit…”

“See? You’ll just have to tolerate us.”

Astrid sneered. “Sometimes I really hate you two.” She was lying of course, but she needed to keep her servants in their place somehow.

The trio was sequestered in the East wing, what she had dubbed as her living quarters. Thick sheets covered the windows, broadswords and heavy axes hung on the walls. The furniture was in disarray as sometimes her anger would be too much for her and she would cleave a bedpost in two. Only her most trusted servants were allowed to enter, a pair of twins that she had personally hired from off the street with no training whatsoever.

Ruff pulled out a pink taffeta dress with pink-feathered plumes sticking off the back. “Here’s the dress Dagur got you last year for your anniversary. You could wear this!”

“I thought I told you to burn that abomination,” the princess hissed.

Ruff laughed as she stuck the garment in the back of the closet. She and Tuff enjoyed teasing the princess like this. Despite how bratty her replies were, they knew that Astrid was truly happy when people interacted with her instead of just blindly following every order.

She was just bad at showing it.

Just then there was a knock at her bedroom door. Tuff opened it and greeted the nameless servant on the other side.

“His Majesty would like to talk to the Princess in his study,” the shy girl spoke.   

“Here we go!” Astrid flung herself off the bed and snagged her favorite battle-axe from where it was lodged in the fine cherry wall. It was her security blanket, if only the twins knew it.

She was perfect. She had to be. The whole world was watching her, pandering to her, and adoring her. Though that adoration ran dry when she turned away. In truth, she would sooner push someone down in the mud to keep her boots clean, than to offer a hand to help them up. She viewed the world over her nose, and demanded perfection.

Astrid, the princess of Berk.

A perfect bitch.

She stomped down the hall and threw the door open to her uncle’s study. “I have arrived, oh great Stoick! Here at your beck and call!”

Stoick, the Tsar of Berk, was a stark contrast to his ‘niece’. A huge man, built like a mountain, but had the soul of a lamb. He was a quiet man, but lived to serve the people. His crimson beard, rosy cheeks, and cauliflower nose only made him look kinder. No Tsar was perfect, but if the populace of Berk had been polled, his numbers were stellar.

So how could such a kind and gentle man be related to Astrid? Well, Uncle wasn’t exactly a truth. When he had fostered her from her old kingdom, she had refused to call him ‘father’ like every councilman had asked. Stoick had suggested ‘Uncle’ instead, and she begrudgingly agreed. Even then, her past traumas had put a bleak disposition on the Princess the likes no one had seen before. Regardless, he loved her dearly, as he had no children of his own.

A parentless child, and a heirless King. Naturally, things worked out.

The monarch looked up at his niece; her blonde hair disheveled, tattered clothes, and that blasted axe.

“The party is in three hours. I expect you to be ready by then.”  

“Well, you should lower your expectations.”

Oh how she vexed him. “Astrid, please, you’re turning 21. There’s going to be a lot of people here to see you.”

She huffed, “I don’t want to see them.”

“I know. I know.” Stoick stood from behind his desk and dwarfed the princess. “But tonight is very special. Tonight, you’ll be picking a husband.”

Her axe fell to the ground with a clatter. “Excuse you! I will do no such thing!”

“Yes, you will. I’ve told you this several times!”

“When? I don’t remember!”

“That’s because you never pay attention, child!” He accused. “Everyone in the line to the throne has to be married or engaged by their 21st birthday.”

“I didn’t think that applied to me!”

“I have no heirs, Astrid. Who did you think was going to take on the crown after me?”

She crossed her arms. “I think we should just become a democracy.”

Her uncle laughed and turned his back on her. “Those never work. You give people power and they vote in idiots.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t distract me from what I called you in here for.”

She grunted and dropped in a chair. “I hate this. I hate everything about my life.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t know how I feel.”

Being the ruler of a country was hard. But being a father was exhausting, Stoick was often at a loss at how to handle Astrid. As she got older, she just seemed to grow farther and farther away.

“You’re right my dear. Maybe I don’t. But I went through some difficulties when I married your aunt. A loveless marriage that ended before it even got started. God bless her soul. That’s not what I wanted for you. Which is why I mentioned it so many times before. I want you to find love. You deserve it.”

The blonde relaxed her rigid stance. “I appreciate the sentiment, Uncle…but no one would ever love me.”

“What about Dagur?”

She snatched her axe up from the ground and pointed the blade at the monarch. “Say his name again, and you’ll wake up bald!” She shrieked.

“I know, bad break up. Forget I said anything.”

Astrid twirled her weapon and rested it against the chair side.

“As for the dress…”

Astrid groaned as she slumped in her chair, her chin resting on her chest.

Stoick stepped over to the chestnut cabinet in the corner of the room. To any other person, it would look out of place and full of junk. But to the royals, the wood panels held magic. He pulled out a leather garment bag, and draped it over the desk. Astrid sat up in interest.

“I was waiting to give you this until you got older and could fit in it.”

The princess unzipped it herself. The dress inside was black with gold trim outlining the off the shoulder neckline. More gold flowers were embroidered into the bodice of the dress. Finally, the skirt melted from black to scarlet. The colors of Berk’s flag.

Astrid stared at the dress.

“It was your mother’s. I gave it to her as a gift when our kingdoms first united.”

“Yes. I’ll wear it.” And she re-zipped the bag.

If there was something he could depend on from his niece, it was her fierce loyalty to her family.

The few hours remaining before the party were quiet. Astrid had retreated to her room, and was no doubt sitting in quiet agony while Ruff did her hair.

She stood rigidly, faking her smiles to all that graced her presence. Her arms were folded gently in front of her, occasionally squeezing tightly, as the men poured into the room. They all glanced at her with knowing looks, all thinking the same thing:

“She’s going to pick me.”

The crown jewels sat on her milky collarbone, as there was no way to avoid that tradition. Along with the tiara and red sash, everything screamed untouchable royal. Despite the quaint smile and flirtatious eyes.

She really did make herself sick sometimes.

“My dear, why aren’t you mingling with the young gentlemen?” Stoick touched her shoulder, noticing not a word had come out of her bright red lips.

“Uncle…” Astrid spoke quietly, trying not to be heard, “because I don’t want to talk to the young gentlemen…if you could call them that…”

“Now Astrid, don’t be rude. I’m sure there’s a nice, handsome, quiet guy that you could take out on special occasions. Go on, be cordial.”

Rich, beautiful, eligible men as far as the eye could see. All she had to do was point, and the man that would inevitably serve her for the rest of her life would be chosen. And yet, as she danced around the room, he was not there. The man of her dreams, the man that didn’t fake smile around her, the man that could see through her act, the man that could love her for who she was; he didn’t exist. Astrid was no fool. She knew of her cruelty, she knew what was being said about her.

And yet, how could she change if there was no one to love her?

“Well, hello my darling,” A smooth voice spoke. Astrid’s foul mood plummeted into the floor. The man speaking was a tall man, beefy in build. His broad chin was dotted with the faint hairs of an attempted beard. His hair, copper, was parted in the middle, and curled around his ears. His deep forest green eyes, the same eyes she used to gaze into for hours, had not changed, but great amusement reflected back.

She didn’t even try to hide her distaste. She growled, “Dagur B. Zerker. For what God forbidden reason are you here? To steal my food?”

He laughed. “No, not quite, you see. Your uncle invited me. He hoped that we would get back together.”

The princess blinked once and then shrieked across the ballroom. “UNCLE!!!”

Most attendees jumped at the shout and scrambled to move out of the war zone.

The ruler had just gotten away from her, when she stomped back up to him and stuck her finger in his face. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”

Stoick rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping you would reconsider courting him again.”

She shook her head. “I’m surprised at you uncle. I loved him, but he got Mala, one of my ladies in waiting, pregnant, and you think that’s a reason for another chance?”

Dagur snorted behind her. “She had a miscarriage, though.”

Astrid riled up in anger, before turning around and decking him in the mouth. “You ass!”

Startled gasps went up in the crowd as the gentry began whispering and staring.

Stoick grabbed his niece. “Enough! Behave yourself, woman!”

“He started it! I’ll kill him! That son of a bitch!”

Dagur, after he had been punched, made the wise decision to run out the room.

“Now,” Stoick stated, “I need to do damage control. Can you handle socializing for a little while without starting another fight?”

Astrid looked away in shame, but nodded solemnly.

“Good, I’ll be back in a bit.”

The crowd parted like the red sea, and Astrid was left alone. And for once in her spoiled life, she felt like she had nothing. She always had the best, the newest, the most expensive. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more and more. But in this moment, she realized it would never be enough. There was no happiness in material goods or false words.

Then, from across the room, she spotted Gobber, the Toymaker. One of the best in the world. Every year, he took a request from Astrid for her ideal custom present. No other like it was to be made.

This was Astrid’s favorite part of her birthday every year. Not just because the present was quality and made exactly they way she wanted, but because Gobber took pride in his work, and he made sure Astrid knew it. One year, the girl asked for a racing car, one that she could drive inside the palace. Gobber came multiple times in the process of building to have Astrid sit in a chair and pretend she was the one driving. Gobber was the father she never had. She never confessed to anyone, but she was always excited to see the man.

The toymaker came to her and respectfully bowed. “Your highness, happiest of birthdays to you. Long live the Princess.”

“Gobber,” She smiled pleasantly.

“I won’t beat around the bush, my dear, what do you wish me to make? I know you have it all thought out. Just like every year.” He smiled, his lead tooth glimmering in the light.

Truth be told, Astrid had forgotten to think about her present. She’d been so preoccupied with worrying about a groom…she chuckled to herself, and without thinking, blurted her personal joke out loud.

“Make me a husband.”

The toymaker laughed, but then grew silent when he saw the Princess was not joking.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, Gobber, I am.”

“…Anything particular you want me to consider? Looks?”

“Just make him perfect.”

She was the Princess, and she always got what she wanted.  This was no exception. Gobber took a shaky breath, “I’ll do my best, my lady…but--…”

“Your best is all I ask,” She affirmed. “I wouldn’t want anything else.”

The toymaker shrugged. “Okay. I guess I have no choice.”

“Take your time on this, I am not in a hurry to get married, but lawfully I must wed by the end of the year.”

“Three days, my lady. As tradition, you will have your gift in three days.”

“Lovely. I will see you in three days then.”

“Yes, Princess Astrid.” The toymaker bowed low and exited the ballroom. The rest of the room could only look in shock and horror at what had just happened.

“I do believe this solves everything.” The Princess smirked.

Out of nowhere, the two twin servants burst into delighted laughter. They approached from both sides. “That was priceless!”

“What a joke!”

“Did you see how everyone reacted?”

“Excellent!”

Astrid glanced between the two. “I’m serious, you know.” She raised an eyebrow.

The laughter waned. “Wait, really? You’re going to marry…a toy?”

“Most likely. But I haven’t any stretch of the imagination what he’s planning on doing. If it turns out much different then I expect, then I will make the toy another servant…or maybe a moving target, if I’m so inclined.”

The siblings shared a worried look. It was a well-known fact that the Princess morbidly stunk at human interaction, but to go as far as to marry a machine? That was an act of desperation. “If you say so.” Ruff shrugged.  

[newstfionline]

Headlines

As wildfire smoke becomes a part of life on the West Coast, so do its health risks (Washington Post) Every morning for the past few weeks, JoEllen Depakakibo has had a new kind of morning routine. She sets her alarm for 6 and opens the Environmental Protection Agency’s AirNow site on her phone. If the Air Quality Index (AQI) passes 150, called “unhealthy” by the EPA, Depakakibo has her employees shut the main door and turn on a medical-grade air purifier inside Pinhole Coffee Shop, the cafe she opened here six years ago. If it passes 200, they close the cafe. She’s had to shut five times in recent weeks because of the smoke that has stubbornly settled over the city. The fires are also having a massive impact on people far from any actual flames. Massive plumes of smoke have converged and covered almost the entire western edge of the United States. It has drifted into the neighboring states of Nevada and Arizona, lowering air quality in some parts. And smoke has even blotted out the sun thousands of miles away in D.C. The haze along the West Coast has created the most polluted air in the world over the past week, forcing millions of residents indoors. And the smoke is creating short- and long-term health risks for everyone exposed, health experts say.

Showdown set as US to declare UN sanctions on Iran are back (AP) In defiance of overwhelming opposition, the United States is preparing to declare that all international sanctions against Iran have been restored. Few countries believe the move is legal, and such action could provoke a credibility crisis at the United Nations. Virtually alone in the world, the Trump administration will announce on Saturday that U.N. sanctions on Iran eased under the 2015 nuclear deal are back in force. But the other members of the U.N. Security Council, including U.S. allies, disagree and have vowed to ignore the step. That sets the stage for ugly confrontations as the world body prepares to celebrate its 75th anniversary at a coronavirus-restricted General Assembly session next week. The question is how the Trump administration will respond to being ignored. It already has slapped extensive sanctions on Iran, but could impose penalties on countries that don’t enforce the U.N. sanctions it claims to have reimposed. A wholesale rejection of the U.S. position could push the administration, which has already withdrawn from multiple U.N. agencies, organizations and treaties, further away from the international community.

MiGs on the campaign trail (Foreign Policy) The fundraising arm of the Trump campaign issued a digital ad centered on supporting U.S. troops, which ran from Sept. 8 through Sept. 12. The only problem? It used photos of Russian fighter jets, Politico reports.

Remote work vs. office work (Bloomberg) A Gallup survey conducted for Wells Fargo found 42 percent of the 1,094 workers it surveyed looked favorably on working remotely compared to just 14 percent who viewed it negatively. Other surveys conducted for large employers have found similar interest in at least partial work-from-home moving forward. When a management consultancy asked 1,000 people in June what they were looking forward to when returning to the office, 20 percent said “nothing at all.” In related news (via Business Insider), the vast majority (83%) of millennials currently living near a major tech hub, such as Silicon Valley or New York, plan to or are considering a move to a more affordable city because of COVID, according to new data from a survey of 500 US tech workers by domain extension provider .Tech Domains. It coincides with US tech giants pioneering new flexible working policies because of the pandemic.

Gulf Coast braces for 2nd round of flooding in Sally’s wake (AP) Homeowners and businesses along the soggy Gulf Coast began cleaning up Thursday in the wake of Hurricane Sally, even as the region braced for a delayed, second round of flooding in the coming days from rivers and creeks swollen by the storm’s heavy rains. In hard-hit Pensacola and surrounding Escambia County, where Sally’s floodwaters surged through downtown streets and lapped at car door handles on Wednesday before receding, authorities went door-to-door to check on residents and warn them the danger wasn’t over. With the Florida Panhandle and Alabama on alert, Sally’s rainy remnants pushed farther inland across the Southeast, causing flooding in Georgia and threatening more of the same on Friday in North Carolina and Virginia. Forecasters said Georgia could get up to a foot (30 centimeters), and South Carolina 10 inches (25 centimeters).

For Mexico, a somber Independence Day (Washington Post) Troops marched in formation across a deserted public plaza in the Mexican capital Wednesday, and military planes rocketed across a clear blue sky to mark the country’s independence from Spain. But while many Mexicans enjoyed the day off, lingering in bars and eateries across the city, the prevailing mood was one of brief escapism from a dark and worrying time, defined by the devastation of a virus that has take more than 71,600 lives and hammered the economy. “We are proud, but we are angry and sad at the same time,” said Laura Santander, 28, a physician who was sipping rum and Cokes with friends at a noisy cafe. “This is our nation’s birthday, and normally we love to celebrate and shout and carry on. But we know the pandemic is not going to go away for a long time. It is eclipsing our pride.”

Back to the past in Bolivia? (Foreign Policy) An opinion poll published on Wednesday suggests that Luis Arce, the candidate representing former Bolivian President Evo Morales’s Movement for Socialism, is leading all other candidates for next month’s presidential election, a sign that Morales’s legacy in the country is still strong. Arce served as the country’s minister of finance from 2006 to 2017, and was a close ally of Morales. According to the poll, Arce’s support stands at 40.3 percent, distantly followed by former President Carlos Mesa and current interim President Jeanine Áñez, the former senator who took over the presidency after Morales’s forced resignation in November.

Lesbos and its migrants (NYT) One week after a fire razed Europe’s largest migrant camp, on the Greek island of Lesbos, few countries have offered to take in any of the 12,500 people who became homeless, and while the Greek government has quickly erected a makeshift tent camp, migrants and aid workers fear it will fall into the same squalid conditions that have symbolized the continent’s failures.

As India’s virus cases rise, so do questions over death toll (AP) When Narayan Mitra died on July 16, a day after being admitted to the hospital for fever and breathing difficulties, his name never appeared on any of the official lists put out daily of those killed by the coronavirus. Test results later revealed that Mitra had indeed been infected with COVID-19, but the virus was deemed an “incidental” factor. “He died because of the virus, and there is no point lying about it,” Abhijit Mitra said of the finding. Such exclusions could explain why India, which has recorded more than 5.1 million infections—second only to the United States—has a death toll of about 83,000 in a country of 1.3 billion people. India’s Health Ministry has cited this as evidence of its success in fighting the pandemic. But experts say the numbers are misleading and that India is not counting many deaths. (Other countries are reportedly guilty of the same.)

U.S. Sending Weapons to Taiwan as Tensions With China Remain High (Foreign Policy) The United States is planning to sell a range of new weapons to Taiwan, deepening its commitment to the island nation amid deteriorating relations with Beijing. Sources told Reuters that the sales include seven major weapons systems, including mines, cruise missiles, and drones; a huge supply of weaponry that represents a major departure from the more conservative approach taken by past administrations. Details obtained by the Wall Street Journal said that the deal was expected to total around $7 billion, and would include $400 million worth of sophisticated drones, complete with sensors, logistics, training, and other equipment. The move is sure to provoke a strong reaction in Beijing. China has long considered Taiwan to be part of its national territory, and it strongly opposes any overtures by the United States to develop deeper ties with the country.

Churches have become South Korea’s coronavirus battleground (Washington Post) In South Korea, Christians find themselves at the center of pandemic controversy, after places of worship and Christian communities were blamed by President Moon Jae-in for two waves of coronavirus infections. The ensuing dispute has mixed religion, epidemiology and politics in a nation where nearly 1 in 3 people identify as Christian and where those who do often lean conservative, putting them at odds with Moon’s center-left government. As a result of the controversy, Seog’s Gyesan Jeil Church—in Incheon city, southwest of the capital, Seoul—was forced to switch to largely online services last month. And the pastor is not happy. “Except for a few rule-breakers, most churches, including ours, have been carefully observing health rules at excruciating emotional and financial cost,” he said in an interview. “Enforcing these restrictions unilaterally upon all Protestant churches, this is nothing short of communism.” Meeting with leaders of Protestant groups in the Seoul area last month, Moon urged compliance with the coronavirus rules.

Under lockdown, Israel faces bitter start of Jewish New Year (AP) Eating apples dipped in honey on Rosh Hashanah is a Jewish tradition to symbolize a sweet start of the New Year. But in Israel, bitterness prevails on the eve of the holiday as the country faces a second nationwide lockdown to stem a raging coronavirus outbreak. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government has imposed a three-week lockdown, beginning on Friday afternoon—just hours before Rosh Hashanah starts. Israel’s first lockdown, in March and April, put a damper on Passover, the Jewish spring holiday marking the deliverance of the ancient Hebrews from slavery in Egypt. Now, the Jewish High Holidays look to be similarly subdued. Religious and secular Israelis alike mark Rosh Hashanah with festive holiday feasts with family and friends. They pack synagogues, often spending hours in prayer, especially during the fast of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, which falls later this month.

Tracking device for UAE visitors (Reuters) International passengers arriving at Abu Dhabi airport will now have to wear a tracking device while they complete a mandatory 14-day home quarantine due to COVID-19, according to state-owned Etihad Airways. Daily infections in the United Arab Emirates rose this month to their highest since the outbreak started, which officials have largely blamed on people not practicing social distancing.

Sudan flooding (AFP) The White Nile and Blue Nile rivers are Sudan’s lifeblood. Heavy rains, however, have transformed them into a force for calamity. More than 100 are dead and more than half a million are homeless in the worst flooding in at least a century. Khartoum is the worst-hit area, inundated by waters from both Nile tributaries. Humanitarian aid has been slow to arrive, and many have been sheltering in schools and government offices.

[thenewsboysrazorblades]

Back To Birmingham Part Five

You lay in the bed that the maid had showed you too earlier in the night, after Tommy had left to do his business. The business you knew took part in beating the living shit out of the man who had left your body broken and bloody. Tommy Shelby was not happy with you, but Poll was right, this wasn’t something that he would have turned a blind eye to. What on earth ever made you think that Thomas Shelby would not react to you being the object of another mans aggression.

The ivory colored rose had not wilted at all since you plucked it from the garden, it was laying on the nightstand beside your head. You stared at it and examined each petal before taking it into your hand and pressing a few petals in between your fingers. A few moments later the rose changed colors, and started to wilt. It reminded you of yourself in many ways. Tommy had raised his voice to you, but even all that you had been through recently it didn’t make you frightened. Although for many, it would have, but not you. You were in love with him, even years after parting from the Shelby family. 

Sleep wasn’t going to be your friend this evening, and the pain was returning to your head from your broken cheek. You rubbed it lightly with the palm of your hand, feeling a movement in it that was not very pleasant. Pushing yourself up from the mattress you waltzed into the hallway, and made your way toward the kitchen. A light was shining from under Tommy’s study and you could hear his voice, which you could only assume meant he was on the phone. It was still early in the morning, but darkness still loomed outside. 

“What do you mean by that?” You heard him say. “She lost a child, does that not concern you?” His voice grew nearer to the door and you jumped back slightly, hoping that he had not heard your footsteps. “The doctor said that she was pregnant, or had been recently.” His voice trailed back farther away. “Not that I’d want any part of that fucking boy traipsing around in the world anyhow. It was part of her, shouldn’t she be feeling some sort of loss? I fear that she has been emotionally hurt and is not responding to it. I need help understanding what I can do for her.” His voice growing closer once more, your heart lurched at this conversation, only wondering even more who he could be talking to on the other end of the phone. Hoping that he hadn’t been laying all of your medical history out to his family. “I understand that your a doctor too, but I can’t have people in here giving her a look over every five minutes. I just want to make sure she is okay.” A moment later the phone clanked down.

You padded past the doorway, wondering if what the doctor had told Tommy was true. You wanted to burst into his office, and demand why the doctor he had sent in lied to you. You swallowed hard and headed for the kitchen.

“A baby. But the other doctor had told me that I couldn’t have children.” The thought boggled you. Shouldn’t you have been more upset about that kind of loss?  Shouldn’t you have known what was going on inside your own body?

“Midnight snack?” You jumped and hit your head on the roof of the refrigerator. 

“Jesus Tommy.” You pulled out a glass of milk and some cookies that had been stashed away. 

“Never did talk to him much.” He looked you over, with the same concern he had in his eyes since you arrived at his house.

You gave yourself away by the next action, instead of responding with a retort about religion you poured the milk into another container. He knew you were avoiding the next conversation and he dove in head first.

“The conversation I was just having on the phone.....” You pretended not to hear him and he cleared his throat, walking over to the counter to stand beside you. “Was not about you, (Y/N).” The milk caught in your throat, and you slowly swallowed feeling just how deep the bruises were on your neck.

You looked at him puzzled. “Then w....” Before you could get it out he held up his hand. 

“A client.” He simply stated, fiddling with a cigarette and then thinking better of it. He slid it behind his ear. “However, I did talk to the doctor about your health as well.” You could see the desperate need for a drag in his eyes and felt immediately guilty that he was afraid it would send you into another coughing fit. “Woman, did I teach you nothin’ about fightin’?”

“Apparently all you taught me was about....” His fingers laid on your lips.

“Guns and ammo, I know.” He was keeping his hands busy, and reached for a cookie. He took a seat on a bar stool as you waited for the scolding to begin about how you should be in bed, but it never came. “Two broken ribs, a broken cheek bone, severe bruises to your neck muscles, and a busted lip.” Tommy ran his hand over his face, he was exhausted from the day. Who knows what kind of business he was dealing with before I came along.

“I didn’t ask this of you.” Your voice raspy from the soreness.

“You didn’t have to.” He said curtly. “I don’t want to fight about this again, (Y/N)” He reached for the cigarette out of habit but stopped short. His hair was a mess, as you could tell that he had been running his hand through it. His blue eyes looked up at you, as he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you close. It was contact that you had not been expecting, but welcomed.

Tommy buried his head into your chest, and you ran your hand through his hair and down his neck.

“I’d lost you. I don’t know what I would have done if I had found anything had happened to you because you thought I’d abandoned you.” He was breathy in his words. 

“You never lost me Tommy. I’ve always been here.” You looked around the kitchen, pictures of grass fields splayed around on the walls. White tile, and a concrete floor, ideas that you had filled his head with when you were just teenagers. A house that was a house, until someone made it a home. “I knew I should have turned to you, I just....I couldn’t after I had left you like that.” He looked up at you, this time there were no tears, Tommy had shed all of the tears he was going to allow you to see already.

“I let you walk away.” He blinked slowly and thoughtfully.

“You followed me, kept an eye on me. That was until I sent them trumping back home, on Polly’s orders.” You put the last part in air quotes. “There is nothing you could have done to save me, before now. It was my decision, my mess to live in. I just never expected....” 

“This?” He motioned to the various bruises lining your body.

You nodded in agreement. “I never expected to...” You swallowed hard and felt a searing pain in your throat. The muscles were angered at the aggravation of talking and the movement of your vocal cords. “To not be able to have children.” Tommy sat up right. You were unsure of what made him do this. “Did the doctor not tell you?” You asked hurriedly, wanting the immediate return of his body warmth to yours. 

“No.” Was the only thing he stated. Your heart broke even more, and Tommy immediately tried to counter he initial reaction. He reached for you, but you had already turned your back to him. “(Y/N)?” He spoke softly. You didn’t answer. He came around to face you, placing a hand onto your cheek and wiping away the stray tear with his thumb. “You’re not broken, not to me.”

The tears fell like waterfalls, as Tommy pulled you in close careful of your wounds. He stroked your hair, and faltered with you to the floor. At some point you began striking his chest, but he still just held you. He cooed and rubbed your back as you cried, the next thing you remember was being placed back into bed.

The sun shone through the window, and you shook your head shuffling in the covers. “How’d I....” You observed the room and noticed a sleeping Thomas in the arm chair facing the bed. You weren’t in the same room that you had exited from the night before, you were in Thomas Shelby’s room. The room where he slept every night (probably not accurate). His head was folded to the side in a very uncomfortable looking fashion, his chest rising and falling in a slow motion. He was still dressed in the wool waistcoat and tie that he’d had on when he came back from getting you divorced the night before. You didn’t have to stare at him very long to note the set in his jaw had tightened over the years, creases formed where laugh lines should have been, a furrow line in his brow. There was no trace of the carefree Tommy that you had once known. You had broken that part of him long ago, but you had seen glimpses of him in the nights passing. 

You didn’t want to wake him,so you traipsed around looking for other clothes to put on. A maid found you wandering in the hallway. 

“Mr. Shelby had these delivered for you.” A simple skirt and blouse were handed to you. You curtsied slightly in what little you had on.

Pulling the white shirt over your head, you could smell traces of Tommy on it. You didn’t want to remove it, but you were sure the rest of the Shelby clan would be arriving soon and would rather have a multitude of your mangled body hidden from sight.

Once dressed you descended the staircase where a maid was waiting for you, and guided you toward the dinning room. You still had not taken the time to pin back your unruly hair, and worried that you would look like a mess at breakfast. You fiddled with the ends, when his hand stopped yours.

“You look...” He paused, but his eyes said it all. Broken. You could see the setting in of deep purple under his eye lids. He hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. 

“You should have gotten some rest. You didn’t have to watch over me.” You heard a car pull in the drive. 

“You were fidgeting so much in your sleep, and you kept whimpering. I couldn’t tell if you were in pain or having a bad dream. Then you spiked a fever, and I had to make sure that you were okay.” You looked at him puzzled. Then slightly remembering a cold cloth on the nape of your neck and his hand pressed to your forehead. He immediately turned at the sound of the doorbell. 

“I, um.” You wanted to apologize but Tommy’s presence was gone from the room. A heard of Shelby’s came in through the doors toward the elongated table. You would be seated next to Tommy on his left, Poll on his right. She stared at you across the table, and was about to speak when Tommy raised his orange juice glass.

“A toast.” The others followed suit. “To good family, good friends, and the return of what has been lost.” They all nodded in return, and looked at you briefly before discussing the business deal that Tommy was obviously referring to at the end of his toast.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

[h-bailey]

Gov. Greg Abbott may be looking beyond Texas, as he runs even farther to the right

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott leads his staff on a neighborhood get-out-the-vote effort in McAllen, Texas, July 15. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

McALLEN, Texas — It was not yet 10 a.m. on a recent Saturday morning when the doorbell rang. At first the man inside thought it was some Jehovah’s Witnesses calling, making their usual weekend rounds in his suburban neighborhood here in far south Texas.

But when he opened his front door, the man, who later introduced himself as Victor, seemed momentarily taken aback by what he saw. At least a dozen people, many with cameras and microphones, were crowding the tiny entryway of his modest brick home, while one photographer scrambled through the bushes like a wild animal to get a better vantage point. “The guy probably thinks we’re from Publishers Clearing House,” someone whispered.

But there were no giant checks, and no surprise jackpots. Just a man in a wheelchair right in front with big smile and a strong handshake, which he quickly offered up. “Hello,” he told Victor, grabbing his hand firmly. “I’m Texas Gov. Greg Abbott.”

It was officially day two of Abbott’s reelection campaign. Less than 24 hours before, the Texas governor had announced he would run for reelection in 2018. It was just a formality, though; the campaign had already been up and running for months, assembling the kind of political infrastructure not usually seen this early in a nonpresidential race. Abbott’s team has been working the ground game for months, canvassing neighborhoods across the state in what national party officials have described as one of the most advanced voter-targeting operations of any political campaign in the country.

And that’s how Abbott ended up here, rolling down Jasmine Lane in his wheelchair on a hot and sticky summer morning in one of the last remaining counties that still votes strongly blue in a flaming red state. While Abbott easily defeated his Democratic opponent Wendy Davis by 20 points during his race for governor three years ago, she trounced him here in the Rio Grande Valley by a margin as high as 30 points in some counties. It was a disappointing result for Abbott, who had visited the area dozens of times — more than Davis and more than any Republican before him — trying to make inroads with an electorate that is heavily Hispanic. It’s an issue that is personal for Abbott: His wife, Cecilia, a former teacher, is a third-generation Mexican-American, the granddaughter of immigrants.

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott and his wife, Cecilia, speak to a potential supporter. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

The Rio Grande Valley was the first place Abbott visited after launching his first campaign for governor, and nearly four years later, it was his first stop again, even as he has pursued an agenda that has grown distinctly more conservative and, in some cases, some have argued, anti-Latino. But Abbott hadn’t given up trying to win over voters here. “I have a vision. I have a goal that I intend to achieve,” Abbott bluntly told a group of volunteers who had gathered to go knock doors on his behalf. “Whether it be this election or some election in the future, my goal is to ensure that in my lifetime the Rio Grande Valley is gonna be voting Republican every single election.”

Abbott’s campaign had chosen this block in particular, as it was home to what an aide described as “soft Democrats” — moderate, swing voters they believed could be convinced to support a Republican. Steering his wheelchair down a bumpy sidewalk, Abbott, who is partially paralyzed from the waist down, seemed more hopeful about his chances than decades of voting data would suggest. “You can’t get someone’s support unless you ask,” he breezily declared as he rolled toward the next house trailed by his wife, a contingent of staff and security and a scrum of reporters. “So we need to ask.”

Even before he arrived here, Abbott’s campaign was already in full force — so well organized that many outside Texas have taken notice, wondering if there isn’t more on the governor’s mind than trying to flip Democratic counties in the far southern part of his state. As of June 30, Abbott had nearly $41 million in the bank for his campaign, $10 million of which he’d raised in the last few days of the month alone. It was a near-record haul for any statewide candidate at this point in the race, even though he has yet to attract any major opponent and is widely regarded to be one of the safest gubernatorial incumbents in the country. A Morning Consult poll released this week named Abbott as the seventh-most-popular governor in the country, with a 64 percent approval rating among likely Texas voters.

Abbott’s popularity in a fast-growing state that is as strongly identified with Republican politics as California is for Democrats has already sparked whispers among GOP insiders always on the lookout for who might be worthy White House material. Abbott’s aggressive reelection campaign has only added to the speculation about whether the governor, emboldened in part by the example of Donald Trump, has higher ambitions than another four years in the Texas statehouse.

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott greets supporters after declaring his bid for reelection July 14 in San Antonio, Tex. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

“I wouldn’t put him in the category of he goes to bed at night dreaming of being in the White House because he clearly is a guy who enjoys being governor of Texas,” said Bill Miller, an Austin-based lobbyist and political consultant who has close ties to Abbott world. But after Trump’s victory last November, Miller noticed a change: “I felt at that time his national antenna had gone up. He’s the governor of Texas, and in the political field, the person who is governor from Texas, the most conservative state, it puts you in the profile [of White House hopefuls]. I think he started thinking about it.”

Another longtime GOP campaign hand was less circumspect — though he declined to be named to speak more freely. “Abbott is from the land of George W. Bush and Rick Perry, who both ran for president,” he said. “You don’t think he’s looking at the White House right now and thinking he can do so much better?”

Abbott, a former Texas Supreme Court justice who spent 12 years as the state attorney general before becoming governor, has the strict conservative credentials that many Republicans used to require for those considering higher office — at least in the days before Trump. And he already has close relationships with the Koch brothers and other heavyweight conservatives who were viewed as Republican kingmakers before Trump’s unlikely campaign for president upended the 2016 campaign and shook up the party.

What is telling is that Abbott did not seem so outwardly surprised by Trump. Though he had endorsed Sen. Ted Cruz, a close friend and political ally who had worked for him as Texas’ solicitor general in the GOP primary, Abbott did not criticize Trump in the way many others in his party did. Perhaps that’s because he had already been embracing issues that came to animate Trump’s surprising political rise, including calls for stronger border security, a crackdown on so-called sanctuary cities and efforts to limit the resettlement of Syrian refugees in the U.S.

While Trump’s efforts to deliver on those campaign promises have been caught up in a mix of politics and legal wrangling in Washington, Abbott has continued to push forward with little opposition, raising the idea that Trump’s vision for America may ultimately be implemented by state executives like him, not the White House.

In May, Abbott signed a law banning sanctuary cities, which threatens local officials not only with stripped state funding but jail time and removal from public office if they do not cooperate with federal immigration authorities. Known as SB4, the bill also included a controversial provision that allows law enforcement officers to question the immigration status of people they detain.

A supporter waits for Texas Gov. Greg Abbott to speak at his reelection campaign kickoff San Antonio, Texas, July 14. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

Similar to Trump’s executive order signed earlier this year that sought to strip federal funding from sanctuary cities, the Texas law has prompted a flurry of litigation, including lawsuits from local governments including Texas’s four largest cities: Houston, Dallas, San Antonio and Austin. But unlike Trump’s order, which has been blocked by the courts and is currently under appeal, the law Abbott signed is set to take effect on Sept. 1, barring interference from the courts.

Abbott has seized on other issues that have been championed by Trump and energized his conservative base. He has argued against the resettlement of Syrians and other refugees in his state — though as governor of Texas he can do little but complain about what is largely a federal issue. And echoing Trump, Abbott has decried what he has described as “rampant voter fraud” across Texas, though only a few cases have actually merited prosecution so far.

Earlier this year, a Mexican national from Fort Worth was sentenced to eight years in prison for illegally voting in the 2012 and 2014 elections. The woman, who is a permanent U.S. resident and cast her ballot for Republican candidates including Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, who prosecuted her case, said she believed she was allowed to vote and simply made a mistake. But Abbott pointed to her case as proof that “voter fraud is real and will be punished in the state of Texas.”

On some issues, Abbott is further to the right than Trump — though it’s unclear whether he is there out of personal conviction or the fear of being outflanked by other prominent Texas conservatives. That includes Lieutenant Gov. Dan Patrick, a fiery former talk radio host and tea party conservative from Houston who is the tonal opposite of the more restrained Abbott, who tends to operate with what a friend describes as a “judicial temperament.”

Their differences in style has led to criticism, even from Republicans, that Abbott has allowed Patrick too much control of the agenda in Austin. People close to governor insist he is leading, not following, but some also acknowledge the pressure Abbott has faced in keeping up with a party that has moved further and further to the right.

Supporters at Texas Gov. Greg Abbott’s reelection campaign kickoff, July 14. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

“The biggest challenge for Abbott right now is the danger of getting flanked on the right, and he knows that,” a close ally of Abbott said. “And the atmosphere just keeps getting more and more conservative. You don’t think we can get anymore conservative, and then we do. And so he just has to keep going that way, to stay ahead of the needle.”

Abbott this week convened a special session of the state legislature to tackle unfinished business from last spring’s session, including the “bathroom bill” championed by Patrick that seeks to restrict which public restrooms transgendered Texans can use. The bill is modeled after a controversial law passed by North Carolina in 2016 and partially repealed by officials there earlier this year after widespread boycotts, including from the National Basketball Association, which pulled the All-Star Game out of Charlotte.

Abbott initially seemed to try to stay out of the fray as Patrick promoted the bill, which like the North Carolina law, has sparked threats of boycotts, including from the National Football League and dozens of corporations who have threatened to relocate jobs elsewhere. But he later signaled his support for the bill. When Patrick, who is head of the state Senate, failed to reach a deal with state Rep. Joe Straus, the moderate Republican speaker of the House, the governor called the state legislature back to work, with the bathroom bill as one of the leading agenda items.

Abbott has said the bill is necessary to clarify state law because of mixed signals from the federal government. But some in Texas have wondered if there are other political motivations at work. That includes persistent rumors that Patrick had considered a primary challenge against Abbott next year — something Patrick, who has announced his own bid for reelection, has repeatedly denied.

The Texas governor launched his reelection bid against the backdrop of the special session in what seemed to be a move to raise his public profile. In a shift, he’s threatened to publicly shame Republicans who break with his agenda, suggesting he might campaign against them next year — a move that was cheered by his most conservative supporters. He’s become more active on social media including Facebook and Twitter — where, like Trump, he seems to be trying directly engage and energize his base.

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott speaks to campaign volunteers in McAllen, Texas, July 15. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

Asked about the ground game and fundraising, Abbott aides say the governor will eventually attract an opponent, and they want to be ready. “If you don’t run a campaign, you can’t win … whether we have a serious opponent or not,” said Dave Carney, a New Hampshire-based political operative who worked for Rick Perry before he signed as a senior advisor to Abbott.

On the stump, Abbott has been urging voters not to be complacent. In his announcement speech and later to supporters in McAllen, Abbott also cited concerns about an increasingly energized Democratic base in Texas — pointing to Trump’s 9-point win over Hillary Clinton in November, the smallest margin of victory for a Republican presidential candidate in 20 years.

Though they have worked hard for years to make inroads into what has unquestionably become one of the reddest states in the country, many Texas Democrats believe their party is still far from winning back significant ground in the state. Democrats haven’t held a statewide office in Texas since 1994 —the longest record of any state in the country. But you’d never know that listening to Abbott.

“Liberals are trying to mess with Texas,” the governor said in his announcement speech, pointing to places like Harris County, which includes Houston. He won there three years ago, but it went decidedly blue for Clinton last November, handing victories to other state and local Democrats on the ticket. Political observers cite changing voter demographics, including a growing Hispanic population that is expected to outnumber Anglos in the state within a few decades, and the influx of new voters from states like California, drawn to Texas by lower taxes and strong economic growth.

But Abbott attributed the results to outside forces like George Soros and House Democratic leader Nancy Pelosi — the familiar bogeymen for the right whose mere mention elicited loud boos from the governor’s supporters. “Liberals think they have found cracks in our armor,” Abbott warned.

As he spoke, a supporter waved a handmade sign that had been distributed by Abbott’s campaign, depicting a cannon that said, “COME AND GET IT.”

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott with a supporter in San Antonio, Texas, July 14. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

The next morning, rallying supporters at a barbecue restaurant in McAllen, Abbott issued a similar warning. “We’re fighting for something that the liberals are trying to take away. And that is the freedom that Texas stands for,” he said. “If we were to lose Texas to the liberals, there would be no other place in the United States for people to go to for freedom. If we lose Texas, we lose America.”

Beyond Abbott’s conservative bona fides, he has a personal story that likely would play well on the national stage. In 1984, after graduating from Vanderbilt Law School, Abbott, who grew up in East Texas, moved back to Houston, where he had landed a job at a tony law firm. One day, while taking a break from studying for the bar, he went for a run and was jogging past a towering oak tree as it crashed to the ground.

A nearby Cadillac was flattened, and so was Abbott’s spine, nearly killing him. He was hospitalized for months and left paralyzed from the waist down. Doctors rebuilt his vertebrae piece by piece along with steel rods in his back.

When Abbott tells the story on the trail, he tries to do so with a little humor, telling voters that politicians promise all the time that they will have a spine of steel. “I really do have a steel spine,” the governor jokes.

Abbott’s disability makes him unusual — especially in Texas politics, where politicians are known for their swagger. But observing him, one quickly gets the sense that Abbott’s injury also motivates him to demonstrate his will and stamina. He operates with the air of someone who has something to prove.

Not by coincidence, the Texas governor kicked off his reelection on July 14—the 33rd anniversary of his accident. Though he made no mention of the date, Abbott rolled up a ramp to a specially lowered lectern, where he maneuvered around the stage shaking hands before delivering a 25-minute speech. Afterward, he worked the crowd longer than most politicians would, spending another 30 minutes posing for photos, leaning in for hugs and shaking the hand of everyone who approached him. He stayed until the very last supporter had cleared the stage, and then he rolled down a ramp and climbed into a waiting car on his own.

Texas Gov. Greg Abbott campaigning in McAllen, Texas. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

It was a striking image compared to how aides to Franklin Delano Roosevelt discouraged and even outright forced reporters to refrain from showing the president, who had lost the use of his legs as a result of polio, in a wheelchair. Though Texas media has reported extensively on Abbott’s disability, some voters are still surprised to discover the governor’s paralysis.

During his get-out-the-vote effort in McAllen, Abbott rolled up the driveway of a Korean War veteran who was stunned to see the governor in a wheelchair. All the times he’d seen him on television, “I didn’t know you were paralyzed,” the man said, as he patted Abbott several times on the leg —explaining that was how troops would greet and honor comrades who had lost limbs in conflict. “Nice to meet you too,” the governor said.

Abbott’s political identity in Texas has been defined just as much by his willingness to take on Washington in the courts. Texas sued the Obama administration 48 times between 2009 and 2016, according to a tally by the Texas Tribune — with most of those lawsuits filed by Abbott himself. When he was running for governor in 2013, Abbott famously described his average workday: “I go to the office, I sue the federal government, and I go home.”

But having Trump in the White House has made it trickier for Abbott to present himself as a relentless warrior against Washington. Many of the regulations that he filed suit over, including rules from the Environmental Protection Agency, are in the process of being dialed back by the Trump administration, which means Abbott has less to complain about.

On the campaign trail and on the job, he rarely mentions Trump. In a radio interview earlier this week, he offered a rare critique of Trump’s performance so far, suggesting the White House needs some legislative accomplishments. “It’s like going through the first half of a football game without scoring a touchdown,” he told Austin’s KOKE radio. “You have to start putting some points on the board.”

A man speaks to Texas Gov. Greg Abbott during a get-out-the-vote effort in McAllen. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

But there are tensions. Last month, Paxton, the state attorney general and a close ally of Abbott, threatened to sue the Trump administration if it did not act to rescind a 2012 program approved by President Barack Obama that granted temporary work status to so-called dreamers — young undocumented immigrants who came to the U.S. as children.

The letter, which was co-signed by nine other Republican state attorneys general, called on the Trump administration to immediately cease processing new enrollees into the program and renewals. It came as Trump has publicly agonized over program — the fate of which he will personally decide, he told reporters on Air Force One last week.

At the same time, Abbott continues to champion one of his pet projects: a call for a new constitutional convention. Among Abbott’s proposals is an amendment that would allow a two-thirds majority of the states to override a Supreme Court decision and one requiring Congress to balance the federal budget.

Asked earlier this year if he still thinks a convention of states is necessary under Trump, he told reporters, “What is ailing America is far bigger than what any one president can fix.”

For the better part of an hour, Abbott rolled from house to house in McAllen, dodging low-hanging tree limbs and occasionally jetting into the street to avoid cracked sidewalks and driveways blocked by cars, as his entourage ran to keep up with him. Along the way, he stopped at five houses, cold calling on residents who seemed stunned to see the governor of Texas on their doorstep, asking for their vote. “I wish I had makeup on,” one woman told him. “But yes, you’ve got my vote.”

Even Victor, a Latino factory worker and registered Democrat, was won over, telling Abbott he backed his efforts to create jobs. “You’ve got my support,” he said.

Abbott aides have insisted their boss is focused on his reelection race and not beyond — and that his more immediate goal, in addition to winning a second term, is to expand the GOP’s power in places like the Rio Grande Valley.

A man pats Texas Gov. Greg Abbott’s leg during a get-out-the-vote effort July 15 in McAllen. The voter told Abbott he had never realized he was paralyzed. (Photo: Holly Bailey/Yahoo News)

“I honestly don’t think he has ambitions to go to Washington,” Carney said of Abbott. “I think he believes, and I’ve heard this privately and publicly, he has the best job there is in American politics.”

But Carney acknowledged he also didn’t see his former boss Perry running for president. “You never know, I guess,” he said. “But I just don’t think [Abbott] is driven by personal ambition in that way. He’s extremely ambitious and competitive about what he wants to get done, but it’s not personal ambition.”

By the time Abbott hoisted himself from his wheelchair into the backseat of a black car set to take him to another campaign event, he had gotten pledges from seven people to vote for his campaign, while some had even promised to volunteer. “Not bad,” he told his staff.

_____

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[keithtlamb-blog]

19% of resolution-setters don't even know if they reached their goal last year

I don't do New Year's resolutions. When planning out goals, I focus on “themes” a lot more, since they let me look at the year ahead with a broad lens. Once I know what my theme is for the year, I can start thinking of creative and meaningful ways to drive toward that theme.

Here's an example I like to give: if my theme is “make new friends,” I can plan events to meet new people or think of ways to meet new people at events I already planned on attending (e.g., check the guest list beforehand and email them to grab coffee).

But just like there's more than one way to live a Rich Life, there's more than one way to think about what you do at the beginning of a year to set yourself up for success.

So the team at IWT was curious to hear what YOU think about New Year's resolutions.

Do you set them? What are they about? What do you do to set yourself up for success? DO you actually succeed?

Here's what they found.

We sent our survey to the entire IWT community and wanted the full picture of your 2018 resolutions: the goals, the strategies, AND the outcomes. So instead of asking about what you're planning to do this year, we asked you to reflect on what you resolved to do last year, in 2018.

A few of the key takeaways:

66% of you said you set a resolution for 2018. That's higher than the 44% of people setting New Year's goals this year, according to an NPR/PBS/Marist poll.

Of those who did set a resolution, 44% said they achieved it.

36% said they didn't quite get there.

20% said they weren't really sure whether they met their goal or not.

The most popular areas where you set resolutions were:

Career (23%)

Money (21.6%)

Fitness (16%) 

The most popular system used to hit goals:

Creating a schedule (56%)

Getting an accountability buddy (28.5%)

Setting up rewards for yourself (29%)

“Why wait until January 1 to start something new?”

33% of people say they didn't set a resolution last year. The biggest reason: viewing the first of the year as some be-all-end-all of goal-setting is pointless. 

“If you want to do something you should start doing it,” one person said. “Why wait until January 1 to start something new?”

That's fair. There are 365 days in a year - proclaiming January 1 THE day to set goals because that's when advertisers break out their best “New Year, New You” banner ads is pretty arbitrary.

And if you missed the New Year's deadline this year and wait all the way until next year to set goals for yourself, all you've really done is cost yourself 364 days when you could be taking action.

Need help following through on your goals whenever you set them? Check out this post on how to motivate yourself.

The “Big 3” resolutions: Career, money, fitness

We asked the 66% of respondents who did set resolutions last year to tell us which category their resolution fell under, and the top three were:

Career (23%)

Money (21.6%)

Fitness (16%)

Those first two categories in particular are pillars of I Will Teach You To Be Rich. Here's more detail at the kinds of career, money, and fitness goals readers are setting - and the results they're getting.

Goal #1: Get out of a soul-sucking job

When it came to career-related resolutions, people talked a lot about wanting to advance in their career. And for most of them, moving up meant moving on.  

So long, cubicle.

For some, that meant transitioning out of the corporate world to try their hand at freelancing. (Sound good to you? Learn how to start earning money on the side.):

“I resolved to quit my corporate job to freelance. I assessed my finances, secured some part-time income to supplement my savings early on, and made the leap. I made myself commit to leave by April of 2018. My last day in a cubicle was February 9, 2018.”

Another reader told us about hatching a career plan with a friend over Facebook Messenger that they called “The Escape”:

“Every time one of us would slack on something or show signs of laziness, we would say to each other 'What happened to escaping X company in a year?' … In just under a year, we both landed new jobs. He now works for a bank with a $20K raise, and I completely pivoted industries from finance to marketing at a large media agency.”  

Sometimes setting a goal and not quite getting there can be better than not setting a goal at all, since you still wind up farther along than where you started.

One person told us about the work they put into boosting their salary from their current $65K toward a $105K goal:

“I read books and watched YouTube videos, and practiced negotiating skills. I networked and set myself up to be an ideal candidate for 8 different jobs that I wanted … I landed a job that paid $96K. I chose that one because it had the most opportunity for career growth and development in my field.”  

Aiming for $105K and landing at $96K might sound like a failure on paper. But the important thing is: they set a goal, they made a plan, and then they TOOK ACTION. They took control of what they could control.

Plus, they're putting themselves in an even stronger position for 2019: “Next year, with my promotion, I am aiming for closer to $120K.”

If a pay raise is on your to-do list for 2019, check out our Ultimate Guide to Boosting Your Salary.

Goal #2: Break down money barriers and go after Big Wins

On the financial side of things, a big theme was taking control of financial situations on two fronts: getting out of debt, and boosting savings for retirement and other goals.

“I made a promise to myself to save a total of $10K by the end of the year between emergency fund and retirement contributions. I put $3,000 into an emergency fund before the end of last year. Now, my e-fund is at $6,500, and my IRA contributions YTD are at $3,500. $10K achieved! On top of that, I was able to pay off my car, double my student loan payments, and go on vacation, guilt-free. Thanks, Ramit!”

We love stories like this, because they're all about focusing on Big Wins. Not how many lattes you can cut or micro-managing your budget to within an inch of its life. Big Wins, like automating your finances and investing early, pay dividends for years after you start them - and they put you miles ahead of everyone else.   

You can't print money. It's illegal. But you CAN take control of your finances by focusing on the Big Wins.

There's a limit to how much you can save, but there's no limit to what you can earn. If our survey responses are any indication, it's a lesson a lot of you have taken to heart.

One reader told us about their goal to add $100K to their net worth OUTSIDE their day job by the end of 2018:

“I finally decided it was time to get serious about making money. I set a goal of adding $100,000 to my net worth by the end of 2018 (outside my day job) and I'm on the brink of accomplishing it.”

On top of looking for ways to increase their earning potential, some respondents mentioned financial goals that involved changing their relationship to the money they already have.  

For one person, that meant committing to a year of no shopping:

“I unsubscribed from emails from all the brands that I followed (makeup, yoga clothes, kitchen stuff, etc.), and throw out catalogs as soon as they come in the door,” she explains. “I haven't been 100% for the year, but I've determined that what some people call 'shopping' is, for me, 'looking for things to want.'”

Spending money, in and of itself, isn't the problem. The problem is when the way you're spending doesn't line up with what you value (i.e., your Money Dial), or what allows you to live your own personal definition of a Rich Life.

Goal #3: Putting that gym membership to use  

On the fitness side of things, the big recurring theme was looking for systems and strategies that get you into the gym - even when every ounce of your energy is pulling you toward the couch.

Here's one respondent who was so determined to make fitness work for them, they picked up knife fighting. KNIFE FIGHTING!

“Fitness can be boring, so I committed to stick/knife fighting, which was lethally exciting enough to keep me engaged for a few months and build up some strength/endurance.”

She's talking about her workout routine, guys.

Somebody else shared how, after more than 10 years of making fitness their New Year's resolution - and falling short every time - they finally found a model that set them up for success:

“The cool thing about having failed to achieve my fitness goals is that I figured out what doesn't work for me … I schedule my sessions, three times a week, and I set them in stone on my calendar. I have had to move a couple sessions, but I have not missed a single workout since I started.”

The lesson here: If a goal is important to you, don't stop pushing because ONE strategy didn't work out. Regroup, rethink your approach - and then try again.

How to follow through: Set a schedule. Talk about it. Treat yourself.

Talk is cheap. There's setting New Year's resolutions - and then there's actually following through on them. According to our survey, 44% of resolution-setters said they succeeded with their 2018 goal.

Here's a rundown of the most popular ways respondents stayed on track to achieve their goals:

Created a schedule (56%)

Got an accountability buddy (28.5%)

Put a rewards system in place (16%)

Digging deeper, we found they're also the top three most effective at helping readers reach their goals: 

Created a schedule (56% of successful people)

Got an accountability buddy (22% of successful people)

Put a rewards system in place (16% of successful people)

Put it in your calendar. Or … shower.

“Creating a schedule” isn't the sexiest strategy there is. But with more than half of the successful resolution-setters saying that setting schedules was a secret to their success - simpler can mean smarter.

One reader explained how the act of just committing to a schedule for their weight-lifting goal made it easier to follow through:

“People wanted to schedule things on Tuesday or Thursday night, I didn't have to think about it, I just knew the answer was 'no' because those were lifting nights.”

There are plenty of easy, user-friendly apps out there to help with scheduling. Our readers told us all about their favorites, from OmniFocus to OneNote to JotForm to Evernote. 

Dr. Who has an app for that.

One person even told us that finding the right tech solution was the thing that convinced them they could make a resolution stick in the first place:  

“I have learned to change my scripts from 'This habit isn't for me' to 'How can I make this habit for me?' And in that arena using tech is my usual go to.” 

For others, good old-fashioned pen and paper (plus a laminator) is all it takes to get the job done:

“I had [my goals and targets for 2018] laminated and put it in my shower. The idea was to read it every morning and every night … Having the plan and seeing it daily kept me on track more than not having it at all.”

Hit your goal? Treat yourself. 

Good old-fashioned bribery. It's simple, but it works - and many respondents said they put it to work to help them see their goals through.

One person told us how they built a reward system on their phone that transferred money into their bank account whenever they completed a positive behavior.

But rewards don't have to be monetary. For example, every time one respondent followed through on their goal to practice piano more regularly, they rewarded themselves with something simple, like a soda or a piece of candy.

And you can even get creative with this.

“In January, I used a random number generator to pick four numbers between 1 and 52 - I marked those weeks in my planner as 'reward' weeks,” said one respondent.  

The randomized reward weeks added spontaneity and surprise along her path to reaching her goal.

Get your friends to ask you: “Hey, how's that goal coming?” 

There's value in telling other people what you plan to do solo, according to our survey.  

“I shared my goal with multiple friends who I knew weren't afraid to keep me accountable,” one person said. “After having a few of them check in with little to no progress made, it made me want to take a step in the direction of accomplishing the goal.”

Telling other people what you're trying to do doesn't have to mean putting pressure on them to keep you honest either.

“I made sure to tell people about my goal. Not that they would hold me accountable necessarily - but it made me feel like I owed it to them to keep my resolution.”  

There's a caveat to having an accountability buddy: only 22% of readers who used this strategy actually succeeded in reaching their goal.

“My friend and I got gym memberships and agreed to start going 4 days per week,” said one person. “It started off well but then came scheduling conflicts and eventually he stopped coming.  Guess what? Soon after I stopped going also.”

The takeaway: when you tap others to work toward goals together, things get complicated - you're only really as motivated as the least motivated person in your group. So don't depend on other people to BE your motivation. That's on you.

Learn how to create habits that stick for life 

It's easy to be excited about new goals at the start of a new year, when everything is bright and shiny, and there are motivational posts coming at you from all sides amping you up.

But the real test is what you actually do in the boring, ordinary, unsexy everydays that come after.

And that's when things get tough.

One thing to remember - failing to create habits and meet goals is not about laziness. It's about not having the right systems in place to create your own success.

We've spent years studying the systems that set people up for success and put all of our best insights in our Ultimate Guide to Habits. 

Enter your email below, and we'll send you the Ultimate Guide to Habits now.

19% of resolution-setters don't even know if they reached their goal last year is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.