#How easy is it to travel between Australian cities?

[lionheartlr]

Explore Australia: The Ultimate Travel Guide

Australia, the land down under, is a unique blend of stunning landscapes, diverse wildlife, and vibrant cities. This travel guide provides an in-depth look into what makes Australia a must-visit destination, covering its history, culture, top attractions, practical travel information, and more. A Brief History of Australia Indigenous Heritage Australia’s history dates back over 65,000 years…

[captain-gillian]

Here is a nice ask right back 💜🩷

What culture shock and antics would the 126 get into if they visited Australia?

(I will answer yours later probably when I am not doing what I'm supposed to do on my prep time at work again haha)

thank you so much for the return nice ask! 💕

this is a really fun one, i think they'd be on seperate trips not all at once, so they'd have different culture shocks and experiences. i have deffs overthought all of this, but it was fun. there's some new fic ideas brewing now.

so tk & carlos are on a vacation to celebrate their anniversary, tk has always wanted to see the great barrier reef.

owen is on a vacation because tk raved about the australian beaches so much, mateo tags along with owen.

grace, judd & charlie are in victoria visiting grace's sisters who are in aus for their music and doing a trip along the great ocean road.

tommy and the girls go on a trip to australia zoo because while tommy was sick she realised life is too short and she's always wanted to see a koala in real life, so once she's better, she pulls the girls out of school to spend two weeks in australia. they also visit uluru and learn about aboriginal culture and bush tucker.

paul and asha go on their honeymoon.

marjan and nancy are chosen to go to a global conference in perth about leadership for female first responders, to represent the AFD.

as for their antics and culture shocks:

for tk, I think he would somehow end up rescuing an animal, maybe an orphan wombat joey and trying to convince carlos that he can raise it fine and they don’t need to call WIRES (a wildlife carer organisation), carlos calls anyway. as for carlos, who we know is not a great traveller, I think he'd struggle with how even the familiar stuff, like american chain stores/fast food places, and basic foods like bread are different in Australia, but he'd find how laid back it is, even in touristy areas really relaxing for his anxiety.

I think judd would be surprised by how different and challenging he finds it to drive on the opposite side of the road. at first he assumes it'll be easy, he's a really competent driver, he can drive a firetruck, how hard is it to drive a minivan on the 'wrong' side of the road. He also absolutely loses his mind at hook turns in melbourne (for good reason, who came up with those?) In the end, grace takes over for their road trip along the great ocean road, and is a total natural at driving on the left. judd sits in the back with charlie pointing out every animal they pass and playing "i spy" with her. at some point in their trip, they pass a bunnings and charlie gets really excited because that looks just like hammerbarn from bluey.

i think owen would go to bondi beach to surf, and end up in an episode of bondi rescue stealing the lifeguard's thunder by pulling off some daredevil rescue before the lifeguards get there (but not before the cameras do), then he gets a really hipster vegan smoothie from a nearby cafe and somehow ends up getting a date with a rich much younger local blonde woman who's sole heiress to a mining magnate.

meanwhile, mateo takes a day trip to the blue mountains, to see if they're really blue in real life. he comes across wild kangaroos and thinks it would be so dope to send everyone back home a selfie of him petting a kangaroo and thus becomes intimately equated with the differences between paramedicine in austin and sydney. after he's been stitched up he avoids the wildlife, opting to wander around the city near their hotel playing pokemon go when owen goes to the zoo.

paul & asha are looking forward to a really relaxing honeymoon, along the east coast, eating good food, drinking good wine, sitting by the pool reading, walking along the beach, hiking and taking in the wildlife. unfortunately, as a member of the 126, paul can't stop attracting trouble, with people having emergencies everywhere they go. on the flight there, there's bad turbulence, a few people get hurt and paul has to give minor first aid. then they get to a resturant that had amazing reviews for the australian fusion cusine, paul has been dying to try it and a woman at the next table chokes just as their first course arrives. paul has to render aid until the ambulance arrives, by the time it does his food is cold, the resturant comps their meal though. then when they're driving to a mountain to go hiking, a car crashes in front of them, they help rescue the driver with no equipment before the car is engulfed in flames. by the time help arrives and they give their details etc, it's too late in the day to start their hike. a man almost drowns in the hotel pool just as paul gets to the good part of his book, the lifeguard doesn't notice, so he has to rescue them. asha starts to joke they shouldn't leave their hotel room. that said, paul is shocked by how good all the food is in australia, and the coffee. he struggles to adjust back to american coffee when he gets home, and starts importing a specalised blend from a cafe they visited in australia who ship worldwide.

while nancy and marjan are at their conference, they're constantly next to each other, in each other's personal space and making inside jokes/laughing at things the other says, to the point everyone they meet, including hen who's there representing the afd, assumes they're dating (they aren't, yet) and asks what it's like working together and dating. marjan wants to go to rottnest island while they're in perth and get a quokka selfie for her instagram, she gets at least a dozen, and convinces nancy she needs to be in at least one quokka selfie with her. they send it to the 126 groupchat and tk assumes it's an announcement that they're finally dating. they both blush. by the end of the trip they are, infact, dating.

tommy & the twins go to queensland first, they have the best time as a family at australia zoo where they cuddle a koala and tommy is so excited to see robert irwin doing the croc feeding show. then they go to the gold coast and stay by the beach, where tommy expereinces the culture shock of how much more laid back and peaceful it is. she wants to have a really 'authentic' experience, so they have fish and chips on the beach. they're surprised that nobody else is eating on the beach, until they get attacked by a flock of seagulls. after losing half their chips and all their calamari to the gulls, they decide to have ice cream for dinner instead. the twins dare tommy to try vegemite flavoued ice cream, and not only does she like it, but she gets it with a scoop of cookies and cream. when they're learning about bush tucker on their uluru trip, tommy is the only person in the tour group willing to try witcherry grubs.

[victoriagonzalezsworld]

ADVENTURES DOWN UNDER: EXPLORING AUSTRALIA  WITH NEW HORIZONS

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[donaidk]

Marcus Armstrong - Almost Home I.

In advance: This is getting a Part 2 for sure. I don’t want to leave it here, but at the same time I felt like it would be really long if I left it in one piece. Turns out I have a whole lot of inspiration for Marcus fics right now. 😂 I also wanna let everyone, who’s waiting for their request, know that uni is starting next week for me. It means less free time, but I will make sure to finish every one of them in the next week or so, and then focus on all the series I started. There’s gonna be slower updates to them, but I’ll make sore to have one or two per week at least. Hopefully they won’t try to kill us in the starting weeks and I will finish up the Lando one so I could start posting that every week and just add some parts from the others to the queue 😊

Thank you Anon for requesting this one though, and sorry for the wait. Hope you will enjoy it and as it’s almost the next day here, have a really happy start to your Friday everyone 🧡

Kind of Taglist: @mickschumcher​, @art-gp​

Title Song | Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

With the Australian GP knocking on the door Melbourne filled up with tourists and fans even more than usual. The first time I got to witness it in 2017 was actually scary in a way for someone who didn’t know the city well yet. Getting from one part of the city to another was a hard task already, and all the shouting and crazy fans weren’t of much help when I tried to get some usable info out of them so I could finally get to my destination and get off the streets. It almost held me back from choosing Melbourne’s university, but I had to remind myself that it was just once a year and I shouldn't give up my plans because of it. Melbourne was beautiful and their schools were highly rated, giving me everything for a stable future. Luckily I was never disappointed by my choices as it was easy to get used to the life here and I even found some new friends who helped me every time I felt homesick. It wasn’t the worst usually, as I was truly content with how my life was going, but sometimes it just hit me out of nowhere and in those moments they were always there for me.

It was now the third year when we lived through the race weekend, meaning we finally had a working schedule with which we still followed our usual plans but stayed out of the bigger crowds. Although we were in the middle of the semester we always found time to enjoy the still warm weather and spend most of our free time outside. Usually our choice was the beach for the afternoons as even though it was packed until noon, the tourists never stayed for long. We usually arrived in the late afternoon and stayed well after the sun went down, and the temperature went down a little finally. The water usually stayed comfortable until later in the evening making it bearable for almost a whole 24 hours if you weren’t squeamish. Even if you were after spending a few weeks at the beach, everyone got used to it.

As soon as everyone finished with their lectures we got our things together and took the 5 minutes walk down to the beach. We had a favourite spot which was luckily never taken when we got down there. For a few minutes we just sat down, talking about our weeks. I shared a dorm room with two other girls, but we had a few friends who had their own apartments or lived with their family a bit farther away from our university. We usually had one or two days every week to catch up with them as in between lectures we were either too tired or didn’t have the time to do so. But most of the afternoons were ours fully and we used it the best we could to relax but still use that time to make memories for the few years we’re spending together. We could say it’s gonna stay the same after we graduate but everyone knew we would move to different countries as soon as we weren’t connected to Australia. Even I planned to go home, although I enjoyed living here and getting to be independent without my family behind my back.

“ Are you coming? ” One of the girls asked me, as they were already walking down to the water, while I was still standing around our towels with my phone in my hand. I was in the middle debating which sunset photo I should post from my gallery, but her voice made me look up.

“ Just a second. I’ll catch up. ” I smiled at her before looking back down at my screen. In the end my finger finally tapped the posting button and I pushed it aside while I got the sundress off that was on over my bikini.

Right before I would have ran after the girls, the device was back in my hands so I could check that the picture uploaded without a problem. A smile got on my face when I saw a reaction from one of my family members but as soon as it showed the whole list of the people who looked at my story, it faded away. For the past few months whenever I posted something he was always there in the first few seconds or at least minutes. I couldn’t understand what changed that he showed up in my life again, but I didn't really want to give him space in my thoughts either. It has been almost 4 years since we last talked and could call each other best friends, but I wasn’t about to take the first step and message him after he forgot about me until now. I just dropped my phone back into my bag, closing it and then caught up with my friends so they could make me forget about him again.

We spent quite some time in the water, swimming a few laps back and forth before just standing around and enjoying the last rays of sunshine while we chatted away. My thoughts were already in a different direction thanks to all the different topics that came up between us. Sometimes it was harder to make me forget time and time again, but turns out today I only needed some distraction and everything was set for an enjoyable night. With the sun completely off the sky the temperature dropped quickly and it was getting a bit chilly  for my liking in just a few minutes. When it was truly uncomfortable I gave up and walked back to the shore, sitting down on my own blanket and draping my towel around my shoulders. It immediately brought enough warmth over my body that I stopped shivering and could wait for them until they would get cold too. Until then I just went onto my phone to go through some posts of my friends. Sometimes I looked up to check on them just so they wouldn’t leave me out of something. One of those times I saw a person coming my way and although I didn’t mind too much attention to it, when he continued and there was no one else in my close proximity I felt like he might be coming to me. In the end I was right as he turned right towards me and then stopped just a few steps away from our blankets.

“ Never thought you would exchange our lovely and perfect red stars for ugly white ones. ” He spoke up and I could recognise the voice even though his face was almost unseeable thanks to him standing with his back towards the moon. My jaw dropped immediately and I felt like I grew roots into the ground as I couldn’t move my body. “ If you want me to fuck off, just tell me. It’s okay. I just thought we could maybe talk, and from the pictures I saw that you’re here. Hoped you didn’t go home yet so I could catch you and... ” He started rambling but I was quick to finally push myself up and hug him immediately. I always imagined our reunion with me being angry at him, but somehow I couldn’t get myself to feel that way now that he was standing right in front of me.

“ You idiot. ” I told him not leaving any space for questions and I could feel as he finally relaxed and hugged me back. “ The biggest in the whole world. ” I added with a sigh, closing my eyes as my brain started functioning again and I had an urge to kick his shin at least.

“ I can live with that. ” Marcus let out a laugh and I could feel as my heart jumped a little at the sound. It was something that always reminded me of our home and spending every possible second together. “ I’m sorry for disappearing. ” He let out a sigh, letting go of me only when we realised my wet bathing suit soaked his shirt, although even he didn’t care about it for too long.

“ What are you doing here? I thought F2 wasn't coming here. ” I asked him confused, knowing that we wouldn’t be in this situation if he traveled here for one of the races in the past two years. “ Not like I’m complaining, but I can hardly believe my own eyes and senses. ” I shook my head a little before looking up at him again. He changed, quite a bit since we last met and even though I saw pictures of him it was different in a face-to-face situation.

“ Ferrari invited a few of us so we could gather some experience. The speed I accepted the offer with might have raised some eyebrows. ” Marcus hid his face in his palm, making me chuckle as I could see the situation unfold in front of my eyes like I was there. “ Thought I would DM you and ask if you wanted to meet up maybe. But I realized it would be better offline. ” I had to roll my eyes at his first idea although I knew he wasn’t lying and it for sure went through his brain as a real possibility.

“ You’re lucky you didn’t. I would have blocked you forever I think. My plan was connecting my fist with your face if we ever meet again, right until you showed up here. ” I shook my head with a smile, as I wasn’t proud of what I wanted to do to him. “ I was really angry when you just stopped talking to me. I tried so hard to reach you, but it felt like you didn’t even exist anymore even though they were talking about you almost every week. ” I sighed, sitting back down and leaving enough space for him too.

“ Would have been deserved actually. ” His fingers scratched at the nape of his neck and I could see the tint of purple traveling up his neck. I watched him as he sat down, pulling his legs up and resting his arms onto them. “ I really am sorry. For a part everything got busy with all the training, races and studying, but at the same time I know damn well a message here and there should have been possible. I messed up, everything. ” His eyes shined even in the minimal light of the moon, and I could get myself to look away. Even feeling the burning stares on my back from my friends didn’t get me to turn around.

“ I won’t say that it’s okay, but I accept your apology. How could I not. ” I let out a breath that I realized was still stuck in me since the initial surprise took over my body. “ It feels like we didn’t even skip over like 3 years of each other’s life. Only difference is that you’re finally taller than me, but the baby face’s still there. ” My hand went up to his cheek to pat it gently like my grandma did for him all the time when he came over for lunch. He always hated it but knew that it was a gesture of love from her and a way to show Marcus that she considered him part of our family.

“ Yeah, I guess it’s going to stay forever. ” Marcus huffed, moving his head back a little to avoid my attack, although he failed miserably. “ I almost forgot, congrats for uni. I remember how hard you were studying to get in. Everyone home was ecstatic when I told them about it. ” His hand slapped his forehead, making me laugh with his expression at the slight stinging he caused himself.

“ Thank you, but it’s nothing compared to your second place last year. ” I shrugged a little but as soon as his lips pulled into a slight smirk my eyes rolled on their own. “ Surprise, surprise, I followed your career. Just as much as you followed my life for the past few months. ” I poked him in the ribs with my finger, making him wince for a second before we both started laughing at the little sound he made.

“ Fair. I still hate how Instagram shows who opened your stories. ” He shook his head a little and both of our heads turned towards the water when we realized the background chatting was getting closer and closer to where we were sitting. They were just a few meters away when my eyes landed on their figures and I sensed when Marcus stood up from next to me, making me push myself up too.

I didn’t feel too anxious about him meeting my other friends, although I knew what this meant for my evening at the dorm with them. They would have an immense amount of questions both about him and us, even though I already mentioned him when we were bringing up our past. A few of them even knew about my past feelings about him and how him reappearing on my socials played with my emotions, but they only saw a few photos of him. This was another level and I knew he would be the topic for at least the next week between us, for one reason or another. Depends on how we get on from this point and if we manage to keep in contact when they have to fly away again.

“ Oh, I knew it wasn’t just my imagination. I told you someone was coming here. ” My roommate spoke up as soon as they got close enough to make us out from the darkness. “ You’re Marcus, right? ” She stepped right in front of him, reaching her hand out while introducing herself. I always admired her boldness even in front of strangers.

“ Yes, although I didn’t know so many people knew me from here. ” Marcus let out an uneasy chuckle, looking at me a bit concerned. I just shook my head dismissively, almost telling him that it was just a ‘Girl group’ thing. Relief washed over me though that I didn’t share a lot about him, behind his back.

I watched from the sideline as everyone introduced themselves to him and for a second it felt domestic as all of them shot me a concerned glance towards me. It felt like they would pounce at him if they saw that I was uncomfortable in his presence. While it made me feel loved in a way, I also didn’t want them to really chip on the situation. It was something that better dealt with in private as I felt like we had to talk lots of things through to get back to the friendship we left behind years ago. This wasn’t the setting for a conversation like that.

“ We should probably get home before it gets really late. School won’t wait in the morning. ” I spoke up before any of them could start questioning him. We would never be able to get going then. “ Maybe we can catch up sometime before the race? I’m sure you will have enough to do during the weekend. ” I turned back towards Marcus who looked just as relieved as I did seconds ago.

“ Yeah, that would be better. Maybe lunch, or a coffee in the afternoon? Whenever you’re free of course. ” He nodded a little, still glancing at the girls who were either packing up or staring him down behind me.

“ I’m up for either of those. Surprise me. ” I grinned at him, feeling the pull on my arm when everyone was ready. “ Is your number the same? ” I asked him, already taking a step back, but waiting for his answers.

“ Yes. Never changed. ” Marcus nodded again, a little smile playing on his lips at the idea that we’re going to meet up again probably. At least I hoped so. Why else would he stalk me down and come up to me for a chat?

“ I’m gonna text you in the morning when’s my last lecture. We can meet up after that. ” I told them, before turning around with one last wave and catching up to my group. I could only hope that they would at least let me sleep before the questions start pouring out of them all at once.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

This is a request from @dashhoney25

Erik and his boo, London, make up for lost time. 😈

Warnings: LOTS of Smut, Rough sex, dirty talk. This shit...had me wet AF.

There are four levels of assassins: the novices, dilettantes, journeymen, and lastly masters. The masters, men with military or paramilitary backgrounds who travel to their contracts have few local ties that law enforcement can use. They excel at their craft, and operate quietly and without incident. In theory, the whispered meetings will be held in secret, the job will be executed with precision and grace, and no one will witness the escape. As a class one type assassin, Erik Killmonger was genetically enhanced in order to perform physical tasks much more efficiently than an average peak-human. To keep his skills in balance, Erik Killmonger practices his combat, shooting, assassination, and stealth skills whenever he is not on an assignment. He has over his life become a myth in the underworld due to his skills. Many doubt Erik Killmonger’s existence because of his skills in completing impossible assignments to the point that the FBI and CIA denies his existence…

Erik Killmonger spawned on a beach in Miami from his F470 Combat Rubber Raiding Craft at approximately 9:30 PM. He’s wearing a Roka wetsuit that provides luxurious comfort and no restrictions. The ocean waters emit a bright blue glow as the waves crashed and the tide came in because of tiny organisms called Lingulodinium polyedrum. With him, Erik Killmonger has on a pair of thermal imaging goggles resting on top of his tapered locs. Frontwards, Erik Killmonger spots two armed guards pacing in front of the architect-designed luxury beach home. Erik Killmonger tugged on the goggles, bringing them down over his onyx eyes. Both of them are carrying a GLOCK 19 and wearing crisp black suits and polished black dress shoes. One beefy man and the other looking about his weight and height. Good. 

Erik Killmonger has mastered the art of stealth, being able to terminate multiple enemies in the same area one at a time and sneak up on almost anybody and quietly neutralize them. Erik Killmonger also has an expert level understanding of the use of disguises in order to access unauthorized areas of a location. He needed the disguise of one of the guards to get inside of the home so he could grab what he needed for his Nightcall mission. Keeping low, his body hidden by the Lyme grass that sprouted from the beach, Erik Killmonger spots a pool on the left side. Moving quickly,  He walks inside the pool room and finds a tool box sitting on a surfboard table. Walking back out, he went around to the left side of the house until he saw the garage. Erik Killmonger uses the screwdriver that he picked out of the tool box to short-circuit the signal box, which will allow him to open up the garage door for access. He rounded a corner and parkour rolled, finding a good hiding spot. 

“Man, this is a bust...what exactly are we guarding?” The beefy guard with a Glasgow smile and a clean shaven head says before taking a quick puff from his cigarette. He spoke with an Australian accent from what Erik Killmonger could pick up while hiding behind a cherry-red sports car. 

“All I know is I’m getting paid,” The other guard that sounded like a Florida native says before turning to grab the cigarette from his partner's hand. He runs a hand through his jet black hair that reminded Erik of how greasers used to wear it back in the 50s. Blowing smoke towards the sky, he chokes up a bit. 

“Are these M-Marlboro golds?” He says between coughs and slight wheezes. 

“Yep, the only kind I smoke...looks like you can’t handle it though,” The beefy guard laughs tumultuously. 

“I’m more of a codeine guy,” The greaser says before handing the cigarette back to the other guard, “I prefer my prescription drugs.”

“That shit will have you on the floor, man.” 

Erik checked the time on his G-Shock Casio Camouflage watch. He didn’t bring a lot of tech with him since this job is supposed to be silent, quick, and precise. He couldn’t leave any traces of himself behind. For Erik, these types of jobs were always the hardest for him, that’s why he took another week to survey the area with his Dragon X12 U11 Drone late at night before accepting the Nightcall mission. The two guards kept talking nonsense, wasting a breath with every word when Erik Killmonger could be in the luxury beach home. He only had thirty minutes left. Since taking out both of them will bring too much attention, he decided to take them down one by one. 

“Hey...what was that?” The greaser says mid laugh. He shared a look with his partner before they both went stony-faced. He pulls out his GLOCK 19, checking the magazine for rounds before turning towards the garage, “I’ll be back, you know we aren’t really supposed to leave this post. If Alma asks, tell her I’m checking for a noise.” 

“Gotcha, just hurry back, you know that bitch will have something to say,” the beefy guard reminds him. 

With his gun pointed straight ahead with a two-handed grip and unwavering eyes, the greaser walks slowly past the cherry-red sports car, Erik Killmonger’s body no longer there. Making a left turn, heading towards the pool room, the greaser aims his gun left, right, behind, and in front of him. It was dark and anyone could be hiding behind the many shelves filled with storage bins and other miscellaneous items. Erik watched the greaser walk far enough into the pool room before stepping out from behind a cluttered storage cabinet. 

Erik Killmonger got really close behind the greaser without being detected, grabbing him around his throat by putting him in a choke hold, the crease of his arm between his bulging bicep, tricep, and flexor, squeezing with ease before he went limp in his arms. He dropped him, getting down on his knees to remove his suit and get dressed. Once he was fully clothed and looking like the other armed guards, Erik Killmonger places the GLOCK 19 in the suit jacket pocket before taking a calm yet treacherous stroll out to the other guard. 

_____________________

London’s eyelids fluttered open with a hassle around 3:18 AM, just five hours before she had to be to work. London is a Cyber Security Analyst for CSOC, a five-star rated computer security company in New York City, New York. The high and wide windows within the bedroom of her Penthouse gave her a nighttime view of the Midtown Manhattan skyline and at its feet is the whole geometry of Central Park. The high end silk bedding duvet cover set in black has perfect temperature-regulating properties that would usually help her sleep but with the absence of her man there was little to no chance for her to drift off again. London scoots over towards the edge of the left side of the upholstered platform bed in black to effectively turn on the side lamp. After rubbing her tired eyes, London grabs her phone to see if she had any missed calls or texts from him. Sure enough, the busy man himself sent her a text almost two hours ago. 

Erik: I just boarded my private jet, I’ll see you when you wake up baby girl. I’ll be right next to you. 

London and Erik have been exclusive for a little over a year. They met because Erik was a longtime client of CSOC and London would personally work for him whenever he needed it. She picked up on his flirtatious cues and the way his eyes blazed every time he looked at her. It was her round, sparkling topaz eyes with sweeping lashes; glowing honey skin; high cheekbones every time she smiled; glossy full lips; bouncy blunt cut copper hair; and trim frame with a plump backside. London didn’t expect anything to happen between them since Erik could be a bit emotionally closed off but he had a deep, and in the beginning, unexpressed admiration for London. He very rarely showed a liking towards anyone around him but for some reason, London changed that. Beneath his bad boy persona is a charming, mysterious, and intellectual man. London fell in love with him before she found out what he did for a living. Erik is an Assassin. Killing people as an occupation of course terror struck her in the beginning but she couldn’t leave him alone no matter how much her conscience tried to sway her. 

The beginning of their relationship...let’s just say it was nothing short of wild. Erik used to take London on big trips to places like Dubai, Japan, Colombia, and Saudi Arabia whenever he had work. That changed when Erik almost had a near death experience when trying to escape from a mission. He ended up hospitalized in a secret facility for trained killers like himself somewhere in Arizona. London made up for his lack of being there by working more hours which led her to a position as a Lead Cyber Security Analyst. Her pockets swelled even though she didn’t necessarily need the money since Erik could afford to take care of both of them. London grew tired from working long and hard hours and whenever she would come home to find Erik there she wouldn’t feel up to doing anything sexually. He was always on the move and she was always at work back in NYC. A strain between them both began to form. 

Erik didn’t fuss much about it, knowing how demanding his job is but whenever London felt a certain way about their situation he would let her vent to him, rubbing his baby girl’s back, kissing her gently, whispering reassurance to her; that things are going to get better; that she should leave her job and stay home. As easy as all of that sounded, London couldn’t bring herself to leave all that she worked so hard for behind her. To top it all off, London is a strong, independent woman who has done almost everything herself before Erik walked into her life. Yeah, he’s her daddy, but sitting at home waiting on his FaceTime call, his text, or to even simply hear his voice wasn’t enough. Also, she had to keep in mind that the future isn’t promised for the both of them. If things didn’t work out, London would be on her own again. The lack of sexual attention was indeed driving London crazy. Taking baths alone turned into London using her waterproof rabbit vibe or the faucet to make her cum. Other times she would mount her suction cup dildo that is an exact mold of Erik’s dick on the edge of the tub to ride. If she couldn’t have daddy’s long, thick, veiny black dick, then the toy would just have to make up for that when he’s not around. 

London snatched the silk duvet from her body before walking to the master bathroom. With the lights on, London turned to stare at her reflection through the backlit vanity mirror. London gently touched one of the taps twice, the warm water flowing out and into the single copper basin of the bathroom sink. Cupping her hands, the white iced out diamond Cuban link 10k yellow gold bracelet on her right wrist twinkling beneath the lights, London watches with drowsy eyes as the water fills in her hands. A few times, London rinses her face with the warm water to calm herself down so she can go back to sleep peacefully without tossing and turning. Lifting her face from the sink basin, eyes closed because of the water dripping from her face, London blindly grabs a folded black cotton facial towel with gold trimming. She dabs her face, taking in the clean and soft fresh linen smell. 

“Why are you up so late?”

London blanched, when Erik startled her with his large hands grabbing at her waist from the back. To this day, London still wasn’t used to Erik’s stealth. His feet are like feathers hitting the floor. London is wearing a black Sheer Marabou Romper that has a cinched waist, fluffy feathery trim, and thin straps. One thing Erik loves to see her in any chance he got was lingerie or nothing at all. Looking up into the vanity, London took in Erik’s appearance. He’s wearing his usual all black from head to toe; black cable knit long sleeve top that clung to his hulking frame and black drop crotch destroyed jeans. The layered diamond tennis chains around his neck matched the bracelet on London’s wrist and the Rolex on his left wrist with its diamond bezel didn’t go unnoticed either. 

“I couldn’t sleep, it’s been that way for the past few weeks,” London rubs his strong hands with thick fingers around her waist, “How was this job?”

“Unnecessary, but I have another two million in my bank account so I can’t complain,” Erik’s thick lips circled London’s exposed neck, “You can’t sleep because of me, huh?”

“I’m used to you being next to me, yes, but I know you’re so busy,” London turns to face Erik. His hair from the dim lights of the bathroom looked almost raven, dreads messily resting against his forehead. London’s hands reach out to stroke his tapered waistline. She could feel all of the tiny raised scars beneath her manicured nails the more she lightly scratched him. 

“I’ve been getting calls for jobs left and right. Nothing else matters when I’m with you...I miss my baby,” Erik’s hand makes its way to London’s copper hair, slicking back the pressed out strands from her face before placing some behind her ears, “Haven’t been giving you the attention you need, and then you’re wearing my favorite too, probably waiting for me to come home and properly take it off of you.” 

“Properly taking my clothes off for you is ripping them to pieces,” London giggles before lifting to her tiptoes to kiss Erik’s thick, moist lips, “Why don’t you take a shower so we can lay in bed, I want you to wrap your arms around me,” London rubs Erik’s biceps. 

“Aight, ma, let me take a quick shower and I’ll meet you in bed,” Erik traced the pout of London’s bottom lip before giving her another kiss with a little bit of tongue. 

London walked back to the bedroom, pulling the silk duvet back and climbing back into bed. She propped herself up on her side to watch Erik undress. The standing shower system they have was London’s favorite. It has a square shower head with LED, remote-controlled LED, a detachable hand shower if you wanted to use it, and a thermostatic touch panel mixer with a digital display. The Rainfall mode made London experience the pleasure of a warm summer rain in her own bathroom. Her body was so tired but she couldn’t stop staring at him as he stripped out of each piece of clothing. Erik’s sinewy physique is so defined and well-built, so much so that you can even tell through his clothing. The raised marks on his torso, arms, and back caused her pierced nipples to grow taut as if she could feel his body rubbing against hers. 

Stepping into the shower, Erik puts it on Rainfall mode before standing directly under the square shower head. As the water sprouted from the shower head it trickled over Erik’s body making lazy patterns. He grabs for his favorite peppermint and eucalyptus body wash with a soap sponge to clean himself. He must have known that London was watching him because his ridiculously big dick was swaying back and forth with each movement of his body. London hasn’t had that big black dick in her for at least a few weeks now. When she first saw that fat dick in person she was sure she wouldn’t be able to take it. All that dick you’ll end up with no walls, tangled intestines, and half a stomach. She paid close attention to the way Erik grabbed his dick at the base, bringing it up against his lower abdomen to wash his balls. That heavy nut sack on him had her drooling. It had to have been almost 5 AM now. She was going to be extremely tired at work. 

________________

London arrived to work thirty minutes late with her daily homemade green smoothie in hand. She’s wearing a charcoal grey pencil skirt with a silk black top and black So Kate pumps on her feet. Her copper hair is swept to the side and bouncing with each step she took. When London woke up Erik wasn’t on his side of the bed. After freshening up and getting dressed, London went looking for him and found him in his weapons room unloading a few rounds to test out the new artillery. She didn’t want to disturb him too much so she gave him a quick kiss before leaving him alone until she made it back home. London walks past the rounded glass top receptionist desk before pushing open the commercial double glass doors to her work area. 

Having her own office means peace and quiet now. London gave some of her coworkers tight lipped smiles before entering her work space, allowing the frosted glass door to close behind her. 888 Seventh Avenue provided magnificent views of Central Park and the Manhattan skyline. London takes a seat at her modern black wood executive desk with a Mac desktop computer and other office supplies. She has two meetings to attend and one will be starting within the next hour. London checks her work email for any important information from clients while sipping her green smoothie. Time trickled by slowly and London hadn’t noticed that Erik had called her a few times. After receiving a reminder about the meeting via company email, London checks her phone. Erik sent her a voice message which was rather unlike him. London listens despite her confusion. 

“Hey what’s up, baby, how are you doing? I didn’t get a chance to really talk to you this morning since the new artillery came in, but...I’m sitting here just thinking about you and baby... I just want to see your face. Can you send me a picture or a video of yourself? I miss that pretty face….” he paused for a second, “I’m not gonna lie, ma...I’m feeling some type of way because I’m sitting here just thinking about you...thinking about tasting you...thinking about the other night when you watched me take a shower before you fell asleep…” Erik exhaled, “I miss that wet pussy, baby...I know that shit was wet last night...like goddamn...I know you’re panties had to be soaked, shit.” 

London was seated on the edge of her seat while her free hand gripped the handle of her seat. She couldn’t believe he was saying this to her in her voicemail. She instantly needed her man. 

“I’m saying...I’m not complaining at all because I love that wet ass pussy on my face and in my fucking mouth...grinding that pussy across my lips and my beard...Still tasting your pussy juices on my mustache...I wanna suck on that clit...that shit make you so goddamn wet, girl...spread them fat pussy lips and slowly guide my tongue up and down...up and down...fuck,” Erik hisses, “I miss that pussy gripping my fingers...you like that shit don’t you? Daddy’s fingers in your tight little pussy? Goddamn...fuck that I want you to take a picture of how wet your pussy is right now...yeah, I know that’s a little naughty but I know you’re my nasty little girl so you’ll do that shit anyway, right? I’ll spank that ass if you don’t send me a fucking pic, girl...I’ll spank that ass just how I do when I’m busting that pussy open from the back…”

London closed her eyes, praying to god that she would go through the rest of her day after this voicemail. She’s definitely wet alright; fucking soaked. If London pulled her panties to the side right now it would probably reveal a sticky, slimy mess. He had to be beating that fat ass dick right now. 

“Man...now you got me wanting to fuck the shit out of you, London...put my hands on your hips and start off nice and slow in that pussy...shit, we both know that pussy good...puss will have me busting a fat nut so fast...hell nah, girl…” Erik’s voice lowered over the phone to a whisper that ran down London’s spine and straight to her clit, “I just want you to know how good that pussy tastes and feels baby...pussy so fucking good...I love when you say don’t stop daddy, you know daddy ain’t stopping for nothing. Daddy got something long and thick for your ass…and I want that fat pussy in my mouth…”

The voicemail had ended two minutes ago but London was so frozen with shock that she couldn’t move enough to close her mouth. She finally removed the phone from her ear before checking to see that no one was watching. They couldn’t anyway because of the frosted glass doors but London wanted to be absolutely certain. Scooting back in her black Sterling Leather Executive Chair, London gathers the bottom of her skirt, bringing it up and around her waist. London brings her left hand down between her legs to pull the crotch of her panties to the side. She scoots to the edge of the chair so her pussy is sitting nice a plump for a perfect picture. Grabbing her cell phone, London activates her camera from her lock screen, turning it to selfie mode before aiming it as best as she could to achieve a good angle so he can see everything. London takes a few pictures, one with her lips sitting nice and fat and the other with her lips spread so that he can see how hard and poked out her clit is and how much of her creamy wetness spilled from her pussy. 

“There you go daddy,” London says before sending it off to Erik. She wasn’t happy at all that she had to leave for her meeting. London brings all the necessary material for the meeting before exiting her office for the conference room. When she entered the conference room, everyone was already in their usual spots so London quickly found hers near the front right across from the manager of CSOC, Linda Yeager. 

“Goodmorning, London, do you have the contingency plans packet for the meeting today?” 

London’s eyes swept over Linda’s appearance. Linda has her long strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail and a navy blue women’s suit on with a white blouse underneath. Her veneer smile is wide and similar to that of a horse and her thin lips are painted red to bring out the heavy makeup look she went for today. 

“Yes,” London opens her portfolio, handing Linda the packet that she created yesterday, “I made sure that everyone received a new one before today.” 

“Excellent,” Linda stands from her seat before making her way to a podium situated in front of the conference room, “Okay...Good Morning everyone! I know today is going to be yet another stress-filled one but we all know this is a necessity,” Linda pulls out a laser pointer, aiming it at the presentation behind her, “Today we will be discussing contingency plans that the company will implement in case of a successful attack. Since cyber attackers are constantly using new tools and strategies, cyber security analysts, such as yourself, need to stay informed about the weapons out there to mount a strong defense.”

Linda went on and on for about an hour before everyone was dismissed to assist with clients to keep intruders, attackers or hackers out of networks in order to protect digital files and information systems against unauthorized access. London made it back to her office with a bottle of Fiji water, taking her seat again. Before she started any type of work, London grabs her phone from her desk drawer because she knew Erik had a response for what she sent him. Sure enough, he left her yet another voicemail. London prepared herself for a lustful ear full. 

“Baby...fuck...I just wanna eat that pussy up...I might have to come see you for lunch today...Goddamn...mmmhhh...you know eating pussy is my shit, right? Ima tear that creamy pussy up, girl...make love to that pussy with my fucking tongue...put that whole pussy in my mouth...mmmh…damn, I wish I could eat that...Look at the lips on this pretty motherfucker.. gawd dayum! I’d slurp the hell out of them lips...call me back...call me the fuck back, London.” 

London calls Erik back with no hesitation. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat almost with the amount of anticipation running through her veins. 

“London...can daddy come eat that suckable pussy for lunch?” That was his greeting as soon as he picked up. 

“In my car? baby, you know it’s an open lot...people will see,” London says with a sultry voice. 

“London... I’m tryna eat that pussy… you gon’ make me wait?” 

“I can try to get home sooner...that way, you can eat my pussy all day if you want to.” London’s tongue dragged across her upper lip, “it’s been a while, I know you miss this pretty pussy.” 

“Yeah?” Erik says, “All day baby?”

“Uh-huh, all day...any way you like…”

“That’s a mouth full of pussy ima need a lot of time to eat that shit up,” Erik chuckles, “I guess that will be dinner then, swallow all that pussy juice and slurp up that clit, yeah?” 

London ran her pink and white ombré acrylics through her copper hair. She could feel her clit poking against the crotch of her panties and her pierced nipples stiffen behind her silk top. She wanted Erik to suck on her nipples so damn bad that she thrust her chest forward like his wet mouth was wide open and waiting. London is a B cup so she could easily go without a bra. She wished she would have now because her nipples are rubbing against the silk of her shirt. They are so damn hard. 

“Ima be face first in that ass as soon as you walk through the door, London.” 

“I know, baby,” London spoke softly while using a single finger to circle her taut left pierced nipple. 

“Yes, sit that fat pussy on my face.” 

“Daddy, I gotta go,” London’s voice didn’t match her words. 

“Aight...just Gon’ leave me drooling all over myself until you get home, huh?” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

London knew Erik had to be fiending since they haven’t had sex in over two weeks. He would have another job lined up soon and from his words and the harsh, uneven sound of his voice, that told London everything she needed to know. Erik needed her. Part of it made London feel guilty because there were times when he would simply watch her masturbate in the tub. He would sit on the toilet after coming home from a job, his body just as tired. London would be in the jacuzzi whirlpool tub, her waterproof rabbit vibe going to town on her clit beneath the water. She didn’t mind him watching her, he didn’t even complain about her pleasuring herself instead of letting him do it. No, Erik would simply sit there with this sexy, devilish grin on his face, his eyes all low and seductive while they peered through the soapy water to take a look at how she worked that vibrator over her clit. 

That’s it baby..make that pussy cum

Mhm, good girl...you making that fat kitty cum, baby?

Then, there were the times he walked in on her riding her dildo in the shower with it mounted to the wall. These times she hadn’t expected him to be home so soon. His sudden appearance would make her feel timid to finish but Erik would insist that she continue because he really wanted to watch her. He would stand outside of the shower, his eyes focused on the way the dildo that’s an exact mold of his dick would slide in and out of her creamy pussy. The look on her face is so beautiful while she fucked herself. She just looks so helpless and useless with each stroke. Water mixed with her creamy mess would drizzle down her inner thighs with each stroke and it made his dick chub up real fast but he didn’t intervene. He knew he wasn’t around often to take care of his baby girl, she deserved to play in her pussy. 

You’re opening that pussy up beautifully, baby

Definitely A Greedy Pussy Indeed. I Love It. 

His words made her cum in an instant. 

________________________

[ Greetings Killmonger…..]

Erik heard the alert from his personal work computer all the way from the bathroom. He walked into his master bedroom with water still trickling from his body and a towel wrapped around his hips. His office was just in the other room where his laptop was located. He walked up to the laptop, tapped a series of keys and his Oracle message popped up in green letters with a black background that reminded him of the Matrix. 

“Oracle,” Erik spoke lazily before taking a seat at his desk, “another mission?”

 [Yes...do you accept the mission? ]

“...yes,” He says while stroking his goatee, “Lay out the details.” 

[ Russia’s ambassador to Turkey named Andrey G. Karlov is supposed to be attending an art exhibit two weeks from now on Monday in Ankara, the capital of Turkey. Your assignment is to get to him and kill him before he reaches the art exhibit. We can’t have any witnesses. This job will require special gear and technology. We will provide a black Ducati sports bike and you have a suite booked at the JW Marriott Hotel Ankara. If the mission is successful, 3.5 million will be wired to your offshore bank account in Belize. ]

“Sounds legit...send me all the information I need on Karlov along with my hotel and I’ll be ready.” 

[ Excellent. Happy killing Mr. Killmonger….]

His laptop screen blacked out which meant that whatever information that was previously mentioned would be deleted without a trace. Erik has two weeks to prepare for his next job. He trained all day to keep up with his skills. It’s never a good look to take too much relaxation time. Standing from his desk chair, Erik makes his way into his master bedroom to rub his body down with cocoa butter body oil and slip on a pair of lounge pants. The body oil softened and conditioned his body perfectly. He slipped on a pair of black joggers and walked to the bathroom to finish his facial routine. Erik believes in taking care of himself, in a balanced diet, and in a rigorous exercise routine. Erik applies an herb mint facial masque which he leaves on for ten minutes while he prepares the rest of his facial routine. After rinsing the mask, Erik applies a moisturizer, some under-eye balm to help alleviate the dark circles forming, then finally, he sets it with a protective lotion. 

Back within his bedroom, staring out at Midtown through one of his wide, ceiling to floor windows, Erik realizes that London couldn’t make it home earlier like she promised. After their call ended, Erik decided to train so he could clear his head. He did his usual routine that involves jackknife crunches, crucifix push-ups, single leg burpees, jumping lunges, and other workouts. Then, Erik trained a little in combat; your fighting skills can always be improved. To end it, Erik let off a few rounds from his new Smith & Wesson pistol with a crimson trace sight. Erik walks down the modern stairs that ended within a corridor. He made his way towards the kitchen, turning on the lights and opening the fridge. Grabbing a box of leftover egg foo young, he places it within the microwave for 2 minutes. The front entrance to the penthouse opened and from the surveillance cameras in the kitchen Erik can see London removing her pumps before walking barefoot further into the penthouse. 

“Hey, baby,” her silvery voice soothed his ears, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home earlier, today was yet another busy day...what are you heating in the microwave?” 

“It’s okay, I figured you were tied up,” Erik opens the microwave, grabbing the hot takeout container filled with shrimp egg foo young smothered in extra gravy, “Some Chinese I never ate yesterday, you wanna share?” 

“Yes,” London places her black Louis Vuitton tote bag on the galaxy storm granite countertop of their kitchen island before taking a seat on one of the stools. She finger combed her blunt cut bouncy copper hair away from her face while Erik grabbed two forks for them and after that two water bottles. He sat across from her before passing her a fork. London hissed from how hot the food was against her tongue before blowing it rapidly.

“Mmm...I haven’t had egg foo young in so long,” she licked her fork before going for more. 

“How was work?” Erik asks between chewing his food.

“It was alright, I’m exhausted,” London rubs her neck with her free hand, “How was your day?”

“Productive, did some training most of the time. I got an alert from my Oracle for a new job.” 

“...oh, yeah?” London swallows her food, hoping that her eyes didn’t read disappointment, “I figured it would be happening soon. When is it?”

“Within the next two weeks. It’s a big job so I gotta do some research over the next few days…” Erik reaches across the counter to rub London’s chin, “Hey...it’s two weeks from now. You got me for two weeks before I go away.”

London played with a piece of egg with her fork, “I know...I just get really lonely when you’re not with me, daddy.” 

“You sure about that? Still using the dildo I bought you?” Erik gave London a lopsided grin. 

“I am...but there’s nothing like daddy’s dick,” London laughs, before yawning, “I didn’t get any sleep last night.” 

“If you weren’t watching me take a shower and rub down with my body oil you would have,” Erik teased. 

“It’s your damn fault, you’re so sexy,” London strokes a single vein on Erik’s left hand with her pink and white ombré acrylic nail. 

“You know what I want, right?” Erik drags his tongue across the corner of the inside of his mouth to catch some food, causing a single dimple to form in his other cheek.

“Yes, let me shower first and I’m all yours,” London takes one final piece of egg foo young before grabbing her tote bag, walking around the kitchen counter to kiss Erik’s lips before walking away. Erik finished off the food before trashing it. He drank his water before tossing the bottle in recycling. Upstairs now, London is already out of the shower, her naked body seen walking into her walk-in closet to find something to sleep in. Erik brushes his teeth before joining her in the walk-in closet. London is wearing a sheer babydoll with berry-red trimming. 

“I got you something,” Erik says while walking up behind her. He picked it up in Miami for her. Reaching inside one of London’s many drawers, he pulls out a Cartier box. Erik presses his crotch against London’s curvy backside while leaning over her shoulder. London watches him open the box to reveal a stunning 18k white gold necklace with 264 brilliant cut diamonds. London’s topaz eyes locked with Erik’s onyx ones. They twinkled and it made him smile. He grabs the necklace, opening the clasp before placing it around her neck. London touches it with her delicate fingers. Erik’s thick lips lightly kiss the baby-soft skin of her cheek. 

“You look good in diamonds, girl,” He whispers to her before kissing along her neck, “icy just like your daddy.” 

“Thank you, daddy,” London fought for oxygen when Erik’s hands began to lift the bottom of her baby doll up. 

“Come sit on daddy’s face,” His nose was in her hair smelling the strands. Erik strolled back to the bedroom, laying back on the bed. London follows him, crawling onto the bed between his wide legs before climbing onto his lap to straddle him reverse cowgirl. Erik lifts the bottom of the baby doll completely up and around her waist to reveal her dangling fat pussy from behind. He takes his thumb to rub her protruding clit and labia that sat stunningly between her fat pussy lips. Lifting his thumb away, a slimy string of her fluids connected with it. Erik sucks it off before grabbing London by her thighs, roughly scooting her back towards him so that her pussy hovered over his lips. 

“Mmm, I miss this fat pussy,” Erik brings his lips to her pussy. He starts off by placing soft, lingering kisses that caused her to let out little gasps. Erik continues kissing her outer lips until her hips start oscillating back and forth. 

“Calm down, girl, daddy got you,” Erik spreads her pussy lips to reveal her cotton candy pink center, “had me wishing I could eat this pussy all day and I finally got it in my face,” Erik’s tongue poked out and he delivered stiff licks around her protruding clit. Erik could see her pussy contract with each lick and a single stream of slippery lubrication drip down to her labia. Erik dragged his thick bottom lip up to catch the fluid before sucking her labia into his mouth. His eyes closed one at a time after he got a taste of what he hadn’t tasted in two weeks. That sweet puss. 

“Yes, daddy,” London’s toes curled, “Fuck, baybeee.” 

Her drippy pussy was evidence that it missed his tongue among other things. 

“Sweet, tasty, pussy...sit on my face, London...THAT'S it…yeah, baby,” he groans, “Yummy pussy,” He sounded out longingly with a deep, alluring voice.

Erik loved spreading London’s lips with his tongue and tasting the warm sweet juices from her pussy. He loves when she puts her pussy on his face and rides his tongue. The loud smacking sounds from his slurping and licking mixed with London’s quickening breaths were sounds unheard of in two weeks. The way she was dripping in his mouth she was ready for his big black dick but all Erik wanted to do was eat. Both holes honestly. Erik wets a finger with his spit before sticking it in London’s tight, virgin booty hole. He was gonna get in that tight ass one day but for now he simply pushed his thick finger inside. It was so tight that it sucked his finger in. 

“Oooh, shit,” Erik says while watching his finger stroke London’s booty hole, “That ass is tighter than a motherfucker...you gon’ let me get in that ass?”

“I don’t know, daddy...fuck,” London looks back at Erik while he finger fucked her booty hole, “Damn, daddy, oh, my God…”

“I said, you gon’ let me get in that ass with this fat fucking dick?”

“Daddy it’s too big-

“If you’re used to this you’ll be used to my dick in no time, baby...taking that shit beautifully,” He wraps his lips around her clit and starts sucking. 

“Oh my God, daddy, that’s my spot,” London started speaking in tongues, “Yes, baby, suck on my pussy…”

Erik brings a finger from his other hand to slip inside of London’s pussy. The soft, fleshy ridges of her walls massaged his finger. He found her G spot and started massaging it with the pad of his finger. Erik started loudly sucking on London’s pussy and licking it sloppy with a lot of spit in between. Each time he licked London could feel his tongue print still lingering. 

“I’m gonna cum,” London says when she could feel her entire body spasm, “Daddy I’m cumming.” 

Erik continued sucking her clit, fingering her creamy pussy, and fingering her tight ass. He was working the hell out of her pussy that London almost collapsed. 

“You’re making my pussy cum,” Her voice grew louder, “Oh my God!!!!!” London started throwing her ass back, fucking Erik’s fingers before she started leaking all over his face. Her milky white orgasm covered his facial hair and lips. 

“Yes, daddy,” London became overstimulated and lifted her body from Erik’s. She fell back on the bed beside him, stroking her hair from her sweaty face. 

“I’m not finished...you said I could have it all I want, right?” Erik spreads London’s thighs before leaning over her body with a hankering desire. His tongue wiggles all over her pussy with exhilarating speed that strokes her clit in the right spot. London’s hips began to lift off of the bed but Erik held her in place. After licking it a few more times he went right back to slurping her up but this time he did it with fervor. Each suck came with a deep grunt. He was enjoying the hell out of her pussy on his mouth. He had London screaming his name. Erik was telling her through every suck and lick that this was his pussy and that she better cum in his fucking mouth. 

“Unnffttt!!!!!” London moaned out repeatedly. She yanked Erik’s tapered dreads, “eat this fucking pussy,” London rolled her hips, driving her pussy in Erik’s mouth, “yesssss ima cum in your mouth so fucking hard keep doing that.” 

Erik started sucking on London’s clit while swiveling his head back and forth. He was loving that pussy. 

“Suck on my pussy...suck on my pussy...sucking on my pussy…” London’s mouth unhinges, “Oh, yes, right there, ooooohh, DON'T stop...Yep...right there, daddy, uh-huh...uh-huh...uh-huh...FUCK YES...you’re making your pussy cum...FUCK!”

London fisted Erik’s hair as she climaxed in his mouth. 

___________________

The next day, London awoke to the sound of her alarm at 7:00 AM. She turned it off, sitting up in bed. Blinking her tired eyes, London rubbed her inner thighs together, feeling her pussy juices gathering in a puddle. She’s still wet from the repeated head she received from Erik last night. He ate her pussy three times before she fell asleep next to him then he woke her up at 2:00 AM with her clit in his mouth again. Spreading her thighs, London could see that her clit is still stiff and her inner folds are still engorged with arousal. The bed shifted behind her and London turned to find Erik stretching his built arms above his head. He blinked at her with low eyes before giving her a lazy smile.

“Good morning, baby,” Erik spoke before yawning, “You’re leaving me again, Princess?” 

“Duty calls,” London stood from the bed giving Erik a tantalizing view of her slim-thick frame. She leaned over the bed to kiss Erik nice and gentle, “I’ll miss you.” 

“Stay home,” Erik looked up at her through his long lashes, “We got some making up to do, girl...I ain’t have that puss in two weeks...we got some making up to do.” 

“I know, I know,” London was pulled down into the bed with Erik, “Daddy-

“Hush, Princess,” Erik’s hand made its way between her thighs, “That fat puss is still wet.” 

“Umph,” London shielded her face in Erik’s neck. 

“Nah, look at what I’m doing...London,” Erik yanked her hair, forcing her to focus on him, “LOOK.” 

Her eyes widened at his barbaric tone. The rough edge made her shiver. London’s eyes watched as Erik used two fingers to rub her clit side to side. 

“Mhm, I got that puss,” He bites her jaw, causing her to squeal, “Damn, that clit stiff...you going to work and leaving daddy home to take care of this fat ass dick by himself? Hmm?”

“Erik,” She could feel herself leaking all over his hand, “Daddy stop...I gotta go to work...fuck,” Erik pushed three fingers inside of her, “Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.” 

“Princess, I plan on hitting this pussy from every angle imaginable,” Erik whispered to her before giving her sloppy kisses on her neck, “cum on my fingers, girl, you know you want to.” 

“Umph, Yes-

“I see you girl…FUCK,” Erik aggressively bites his bottom lip while he watched London cream his fingers, “Thats a good pussy, baby...such a good girl,” Erik’s fingers slip out to smack her pussy. London jumps from his lap while squeezing her thighs tight. 

“I’m gonna go take a sh-shower,” London lets out an unsteady breath while watching Erik suck her juices from his fingers. 

“Go ahead, Princess, I’ll see you in there.” 

London grabs her silk bonnet and shower cap before walking into the master bathroom. With her out of the room now, Erik grabs his cell to call London’s job. On the third ring, the receptionist picks up. 

“Thanks for calling, CSOC, this is Taylor Bianchi, how can I direct you?” 

“Hi, can I speak to Linda Yeager, please? This is Erik Stevens, a long time client of CSOC.” His eyes fall on London lathering up her soap sponge with her body wash. 

“Okay, I’ll transfer your call.”

The line clicks over and there is a brief pause before Erik could hear the phone being picked up and Linda clearing her throat. 

“Erik! How are you? Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, everything is fine...I’m calling about London...listen, I’m requesting that she has a few days off. She’s exhausted and London needs to rest her mind and her body. With her being Lead Analyst now it’s taken a heavy load on her.”

“I understand,” Linda sighs, “I wish she would have told me she needs time off, it’s never a problem. Of course, London can take however long she needs.” 

“Thank you, Linda, I’ll let her know her vacation starts today.” Erik hangs up his cell before tossing the silk duvet back. He takes off his black joggers before walking naked to the bathroom. London has just finished washing herself a second time and now she is rinsing off. Erik opens the glass shower door, stepping inside the steamy shower, “Finished without me?” 

“Sorry, baby, I have to go to work, I’m already gonna be late.”

“Nah,” Erik closes the shower door, “I called your job, you won’t be going to work for the rest of the week.” 

“Huh?” London says with a perplexed expression.

“I requested for you to be off. Linda said it was okay.” 

“Babe…” London blushes, “You did that for me?”

“You know I got you, Princess. We can use all this time to fuck as much as we want...and I’m gonna fuck you good,” Erik approaches her with a gait that had her week in the knees.

“Okay...it’s been a minute…” London was backed into a corner, “All I’ve known is my vibe and dildo…”

“Aww, I know,” Erik takes his thumbs to twirl her pierced nipples, “That’s why I gotta remind you how daddy does it...dig that pussy out.” 

Erik snatches London’s bonnet and shower cap from her head before picking her up, walking with her until their bodies are beneath the squared shower head. Erik’s long dick began to thicken up beneath her pussy. He stuck his tongue down her throat, kissing her roughly while gripping her ass. London braced herself by wrapping her arms around Erik’s shoulders. From her lips, Erik’s kisses were on her neck now right along with his teeth leaving marks. He was so hungry for her, not even a grizzly bear could stop him from getting all of London. 

“You want daddy to fuck you in this shower?” Erik sucked on her bottom lip. 

“Please, daddy, can you fuck me in the shower?”

“You know how to ask daddy for what you want...good girl,” Erik used a little force to push London’s back against the shower wall. She sucked in a sharp breath, before raising a single brow at him. He was being rough with her. 

“Being rough with me, daddy?” She questioned sweetly because she knew that drove him crazy, “It’s okay…I know you need this pussy.” 

“You’re fucking right,” Erik growled before his mouth made its way to her erect pierced nipples, “This pussy hasn’t stained my dick in two fucking weeks...that’s way too long for me, girl...you know daddy gotta have this pussy any fucking chance I get,” With one hand, Erik places it around London’s neck, “those eyes are so sexy, baby...you better look at me just like that when I fuck this pussy,” Erik grinds his dick up against London’s pussy, “and when I cum on that pretty face.” 

“Anything, daddy, just fuck me,” London tried grabbing his dick but Erik’s hand around her neck grew tighter.

“Is that how you ask for this fucking dick? Try again,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth. 

“Can daddy fuck my little pussy, please?” London asked with a pout of her lips. 

Erik smiles devilishly, “Yeah...daddy can fuck that little Princess pussy.” 

With short, heated gasps, London watched Erik grab hold of his dick with the hand that was around her neck, rubbing it back and forth over her clit. It didn’t matter how much water covered their bodies from head to toe, London’s pussy is still drenched with her slickness. Erik strokes his dick against London’s entrance before pushing in just the tip, purposely stopping so he could watch the helpless expression on her face. 

“Yeah,” he spoke smugly, “And that’s just the tip, baby,” Erik pushes in some more with just his hips, “Damn...clenching up already? You know how this dick can be,” Erik continues without stopping this time before licking away a single tear from her face, “you know daddy gets in there, ma...this shit ain’t new.” 

“Damn,” London hisses, “You got my pussy opened up, daddy.”

“And you got my dick tickling your cervix,” Erik pulls all the way to his wide tip before pushing back inside deeply, “Like how I pull it all the way out? Huh?”

London could only nod her head.

“I asked you a fucking question, Princess,” Erik does it again. His thick, long, curved dick pushed back inside. London’s pussy is so warm and wet that it made his ass cheeks clench. 

“What the fuck did I say?” He barked out.

“If I like the way you pull it all the way out,” London’s lower lip trembled between moans. 

“Pull what out?” He asked her with narrow eyes.

“This big ass dick,” London’s head extended back, “This shit is hitting the bottom of my pussy.”

“Mhm,” Erik angles London’s hips with both of his strong hands, “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” He picks up speed, London’s hips loudly smacking against his, “This what you kept from me?” 

“Yes!!” London’s eyes never left his, “God...you’re stretching me.”

Their tongues flicked wildly before Erik pressed his forehead against hers. He was still watching her, his hands moving her hips in a circle while he stroked her pussy long dick style. 

“Unfff, if you keep doing that- daddy, shit,” London pouts, “Daddy it’s deep.” 

Erik wasn’t listening, he was too busy moving her hips in a multitude of angels just so his dick could reach every single part of her pussy from her walls, to her cervix, to her G spot, and then her A spot. Warm, liquid leaked from her pussy and it made Erik smile handsomely at her. 

“I got this fat pussy squirting,” Erik starts banging London’s pussy out harder, “Ima make you do that shit again...UH-HUH…nut on this fucking dick.” 

With a silent scream and her feet nudging against Erik’s back from his forceful thrusts, London gave him exactly what he wanted. Erik’s dick left her pussy and he put her down. London has to brace the wall because her knees are wobbling.

“Get down on your knees and clean this daddy dick off.” 

London was on her knees, grabbing Erik’s balls with one hand while wrapping her plump lips around the tip of his dick with just the power of her jaw muscles. 

“You better suck it good too or I’ma tear that throat up,” Erik bites his bottom lip down at London. He runs his fingers through her loose curly strands, “feeding my pretty baby some dick...see? You needed that, right?”

“Mhm,” London hums whole slurping on Erik’s dick. She had to work extra hard since his dick hadn’t been in her mouth for two weeks. She worked her jaws overtime and her head moved in a circular motion. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Erik licks his lips before leaning over, spitting on his dick. He watched London lick and suck his saliva into her mouth. 

“You sucking this dick, girl, mm,” Erik shakes his head, “You want me to unload down your throat?”

London responded with puppy dog eyes and a harder suck. Erik thrusts his hips forward suddenly, causing London to gag. She removed her mouth from his dick to take a breath but Erik grabs a fist full of her wet hair, making her look at him, “Did I tell you to stop?! You know this dick is long, girl,” Erik slapped his dick against her cheek, “Open your fucking mouth, Princess.”

London opens wide and Erik didn’t waste anytime getting back inside. His head went back while he uses London’s mouth like a pussy and started fucking her throat. London’s nails clawed his thighs. 

“Told you I had something for little ass girls like you who keep running from dick...don’t stop eating that dick up, Princess.” 

“Mmm...mmmhmm,” London blinked away her growing tears, striving to finish until his cum was down her throat. 

“I need it nice and sloppy like this. Make a mess like the good girl you are. You look so sexy when you get nasty,” Erik says between London’s sucking, “Yes baby...mmmh...fuuuckkk...make it nasty, baby, that’s it,” Erik’s face fixed into a mug, “Ughhhhhh fuuuckkkkkk, don’t ever stop sucking baby girl, make daddy bust a nut...ughhhhhhh…yes, empty me...mmmm...here it comes baby... getting the job done just drain your daddy and you never have to worry about anything...FUCK YES,” Erik’s entire body spasmed out of control. He gripped the back of London’s head before erupting deep down her throat. London welcomes her gift graciously with a flickering tongue. It was a lot of cum, definitely overdue. 

“Good girl,” Erik says between ragged gasps. 

___________________

After their shower, London and Erik had a nice breakfast that Erik prepared. Veggie omelette, turkey sausage, and a side of shrimp with cheesy grits. London did a bit of yoga, something she hadn’t done in a long while. Erik cleaned up before joining London in their personal gym for a morning workout. Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off of London stretching her body. After taking yet another long shower, London and Erik lounged around well into the early afternoon in complete nudity. Erik was supposed to start his research for his new mission but that wasn’t going to happen with the way London’s nude body was calling him. They were sitting in the living room, laid back on their luxury leather sectional sofa, music playing from the installed surround sound system. 

London couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s dick sitting heavy between his toned thighs. Unable to control the urge to slurp his thick pipe into her mouth, London leans over Erik’s lap, grabbing his dick in her hand, slapping it against her tongue, and then all in one motion, his dick was back in her mouth. London arched her back, her ass sitting high in the air now for Erik to reach over and slap whenever he felt like it. She massaged his nut sack while swallowing her man’s fat dick. He loved to see her with a mouth full of his meat. All he could do was simply shake his head at her. Before he needed to remind her, London’s topaz eyes connected with his and that’s when his dick swelled to cum inspiring proportions in her throat and unloaded a fat nut that she worked for. 

“There you go,” Erik studied the way his balls tightened, “Got my nuts tight, girl, get up here.” 

London climbed into Erik’s lap, squatting over him while bracing herself on the back of the couch. 

“Nah, fuck that, grab daddy’s dick and put it in that sweet little pussy so I can fuck the shit out of you.” 

London reaches between her legs, grabs Erik’s dick, and lines it up with her snug entrance. She gyrated her hips over him before lowering herself onto his third leg. 

“Mmmm,” She locked eyes with him, “Big-ass-dick.” She tells him, even though he already knew that. 

“Tight-ass-pussy,” Erik’s thick lips practically swallowed London's, the more he devoured her with his kisses. His saliva laden tongue battled for dominance in her mouth the more he kissed. London was like putty in his arms. London didn’t see it coming when Erik’s hips elevated from the couch to fuck her. His balls slapped her on the ass with each heavy, gut-filling stroke. Her thighs shook and her toes were beginning to sweat from the hot leather. 

“Oh, shit,” Her lower abdomen clenched, “It’s deep…”

“Move your hands,” Erik ordered when London’s hands came down to press against his thighs to try and slow him up, “Move your fucking hands, London.”

“Daddy, nooooo,” She whimpered.

“Shut that shit up,” He wrenched her hands away from his thighs, “grip my shoulders...that’s it, girl,” Erik went back to fucking the shit out of her wet pussy, “I got this pussy gushing all over me and you want me to stop? You better take this big black dick...all I wanna hear is you moaning and saying how much you love daddy’s big dick, nothing else,” Erik tore his eyes away for a second so he could watch her cream his dick, “I’m beating this pussy up...shut that crying up, London.” 

“Yessssss,” London chokes up, “Daddy, pleaseeee-

“Please? Please what?” Erik wrapped his arms around London’s body, holding her in place so he could work her pussy some more, “Please what? Huh?!”

“YES!!” London buried her face in the crook of Erik’s neck. She could feel a warm sensation overpower her body and then she froze. Erik’s dick was covered in her cream all the way down to his balls. 

“Just making a mess on me, huh?” Erik sucks on London’s neck, “Daddy likes that shit...come here,” Erik lifts her from his lap. He stood up with his dick dripping cum, turning London over and arching her back. 

“Mm-mm, keep that arch,” Erik strokes his messy pipe, “Push them shoulders down...good girl,” Erik slaps London’s clit a few times before he enters her with a long exhale, “Good fucking pussy...pass me my phone.” Erik barked out. London grabs Erik’s phone from her left before passing it to Erik, “You remember how we used to do it?” Erik opens up his camera, aiming it at London’s ass, “Bring that ass up, London, I’m not gonna tell you again.”

London was holding off on purpose because she knew how deep he can get in this position. 

“How is daddy supposed to beat this pussy the fuck up if you don’t listen?” Erik pumped London’s pussy full of his fat dick with just his hips while holding the phone steady so he can capture it perfectly, “Wait until you see this shit, ummmmm, baby...widen your legs London,” Erik pushes himself in all the way, causing London to cry out, “It’s okay, Princess, here,” He did it again, “beat this pussy up…look at me.”

London looks back at Erik through her messy hair. She wished she hadn’t. Just one look at him had her squirting on his dick.

“You make that shit look so damn good...I’m spreading that pussy, baby?” 

“Uh-huh-

“What else is daddy doing?” Erik smiles.

“Making my pussy feel good,” London smiles back before her face frowned with ecstasy. 

“That’s the face I like to see...you got my dick pulsating in this pussy...got this good dick up in you all you can do is cum...I like that...too big, baby?” 

She couldn’t respond but HELL YEAH. His dick damn near pushed her stomach out of her mouth in this position. 

“Daddy…” London said so low. 

“What?!” Erik asked while hammering London’s pussy. He angled the phone so that the length of his defined body could be in view while he stroked her. London’s cheeks clapped loudly and her moans damn near blew out the speakers of his phone, “this is mine and ima remind you any and everywhere,” London gripped his dick with her walls, “yeahhhhh, make daddy bust a nut!!!”

“Fuck me!!” London grabbed the back of the couch, “beat it up, daddy!!”

“Fuck,” Erik had to drop the phone. He was about to cream all in London’s sweet, tight pussy, “Look at this arch, girl, damn...you want me to really get in this puss.” 

Erik’s mouth unhinges and his eyelids flutter. He gave London two deep, long, and filling thrusts before cumming deep inside of her. Erik slapped her ass hard a few times before pulling his dick from her pussy. 

“Come suck this big dick up,” Erik said between heavy breathing. London was on her knees in a flash, grabbing Erik’s dick up in her hand before licking their mess off. Erik twirled London’s pierced nipple with one hand. He was thickening up again and all he wanted to do was bury himself back inside her tight, creamy pussy some more. 

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[watchtheworldargue]

egg magazine, april 1990. interview with Michael Hutchence

transcription below :)

Michael Hutchence on Lower Broadway

By Hal Rubenstein \ Photography by Steven Meisel

Globe-hopping is hell on a wardrobe and hard on the feet. Sometimes you have to get out of the limo to spend your money.

Michael Hutchence rarely comes to New York without luggage monogrammed INXS or Max Q, so one would think that on a visit without portfolio, the last thing he'd want to do is add on more baggage. But given a free day, a book of tickets, and our offer to go anywhere to do anything, Hutchence got into the limo with an agenda we could hardly call a new sensation. What kept us from sulking was that he hadn't left the devil outside.

Michael: You think we can load this car up with Yamamoto, Comme des Garcons, and Armani by 6?

Hal: Driver, step on it. Down to Grand and make a left.

[The car turns onto Union Square West.]

Isn't there a club on the corner here?

The Underground.

That's the one that keeps surviving regardless of how many people get shot there. How many are they up to?

No one's quite sure.

Where are we now? I don't recognise this.

This strip of lower Broadway didn't exist last time you were here. Now it's like a mall-less town's Main Street.

And Tower Records is City Hall. Not bad. It's wild to see this much activity because people around the world now talk about New York in terms of decay, how New York is such a rude place, and we keep telling them, No, New Yorkers are quite friendly, we like it there. New Yorkers are just very honest. They don't have time to bullshit. I like New York because people are linked to each other. L.A. Is fun, but segregated. Here there is a metro, and a different philosophy of getting around so there's rich upon poor upon rich. The only thing I don't remember is how many homeless are asleep on Park Avenue and everywhere else. Or is it my imagination?

No, it's real. How come you choose to live in Hong Kong instead of Australia?

For about three years, I thought it didn't matter where I lived. But I kept passing through it again. I grew up there, from when I was four until twelve. My dad still lives there. It has great energy, like New York. And it's ten hours closer to the world than Australia is. If you travel a lot, it adds up.

[We enter the Yohji Yamamoto store.]

So austere. Do they go wild if you hand back anything wrinkled? Those clothes over there are good acid-house colors. Has acid house caught on here?

Not like in England.

That's 'cause New York has bad radio. Are these dogs always here? They must sleep in the shoes. Ooh, look at these here. Not very me, but very Star Trek. $500 for a T-shirt. I see. I'll buy six. No, twelve. Now, here is something very stagy. Ultraflouncy. I like that, but the general consensus might kill my career.

Is what you wear onstage the same as you wear off?

I sort of smush them all together. My favorite piece of clothing is a leather jacket I had made for me that says “Hutch” in chain mail on the back.

Did Michael Schmidt make it for you?

Yeah – how'd you know? He's great. He sort of looks like a beautiful snake. He loves all the Hollywood stuff, but he's so sincere when he talks about it. Almost makes me like it. Is there somewhere funkier we can go, like Yankel's House of Pile? I saw that on the way down.

If you want old clothes, we should go to Cheap Jack's.

[We head back up to Broadway and 13th Street. Several young ladies on the corner stare at Hutchence as he enters Cheap Jack's.]

Do you enjoy recognition?

Depends on where I am.

Like when you're out on your own. Shopping, for instance.

Shopping, yeah, 'cause I get discounts. And there is a definite bonus to recognition when I'm onstage.

It makes the night go faster. But I'm not an institution yet. Sometimes I think about how hard it must be for someone like Bob Hope to go for a stroll. I don't really get hassled. I can stand in the middle of a street in London, or even New York, and usually nothing happens. I don't think I have that distinctive of a face. I got recognized in Tangier once, going by in a taxi, very fast … from a distance … in a fog … during monsoon season. Just kidding. It's odd how once you are conscious of being watched, you stop being so self-conscious because you realize there's nothing you can do about it. Of course, nobody in Hong Kong gives a shit who I am.

Aren't people there freaking about the city's eventual realignment with China?

Thousands are leaving a year, but they're the ones who can afford to leave, to give Australia half a million to let them in, though a lot more are going to Vancouver or New Zealand instead because they've heard, and it's fairly true, about Australia's racism.

It's actually more like unconscious racism. There's a naivete to it that you might call charming if it wasn't so sick. See, most foreigners don't realize – because we refuse to believe it ourselves – that Australia is southern Asia. Australia is linked to England in everyone's minds.

Yet most Australians don't have the faintest idea why the Japanese tried to invade us during the Second World War, and can't understand why they might not have wanted any foreigners on the biggest island in the Asian paradise. If we had lost, my home would be covered in rice paddies by now. Australia would have been Japan's Great Plains, their grain barrel.

I've never met one Australian who knows that. We have it so easy in Australia. It's very easy to live there. Tougher than it was before, but that's because five years ago it was ridiculous. I used to live in a three-story, five-bedroom house. It cost me $20 a week.

Did you make that much playing music?

Nah, but so what, we were all on the dole. Everyone went on it. That's one of the reasons you have so many bands in Australia. It's cheap to live and collect, so all the bands go on it. You wouldn't even have to go pick up your employment check; they'd mail it to you or transfer it to your account. Ready cash. I guess because there is such an anti-authoritarian vibe in Australia that people are quite happy to accept government checks. “Aw, screw 'em” - that's the attitude. Lots of people accept four and five checks or even have jobs. It's very lax. That's why we're stuck with the tall-poppy syndrome.

Translation?

Don't be successful, don't rise above your mates, or you'll get chopped. It's weird. It's the don't-leave-the-pub way of life. I think people in America are generally happy for someone's good fortune; they know how to let themselves go. In Australia, they go, “Good, mate,” and don't ask a single question. There are no celebrations for a job well done. I'm still shocked at how Americans cheer you on when they like you. I know you don't fancy it anymore, but I like phrases like “dress for success.”

And that's why you're shopping here?

I love hideous ties. Girls love 'em. Dunno why. Its like red socks. Are the playing Richard Hell? I haven't heard this song in 20 years. God, you must hear better music in clothing stores than you do anywhere else in New York. All these baseball jackets are so cheap. You know what they pay for these in Australia? I should buy the whole lot, take them back. I'd never have to tour again. I could get 150 to 200 bucks just for the ratty ones. I think this is the first clothing store I've been in that wasn't playing videos.

Are videos big in Australia?

We've actually been involved in music video a whole lot longer than in America. Because we are so far away, the only way we've had to understand all this music flying around the world is through video. Since the '50s, even when it was only 10 minutes a week, Aussie tv has been showing music videos.

And we don't censor the way you guys do. The “Way of the World” single is a very serious song, but MTV is quite shy of the video, you should note – I say this diplomatically. They censor here for all the wrong reasons. Like it's okay to stare at Cher's crotch for four minutes, but it's hard to say something truthful about the state of the world.

Could it be because with a group that's become as wildly successful as INXS has, it's inevitable that favorable reaction always turns?

I don't think INXS has reached that point yet. Give us four more years. We've only recently become hip in England. At the beginning, they hated our guts.

Why?

'Cause we are Australians writing pop music, why else? They don't make much in England, apart from nice jumpers and Jaguars, and one of the few things they can claim some turf on is pop music. So, they're not happy when someone else does it. It's a standard trait of island people; they're very territorial.

But you guys are island people too.

Yeah, but we got a bigger island. Now, if we can just get rid of some competition from the expatriate colonies.

Isn't it enough already with this rivalry between Australia and England? L.A. And New York have settled their feud.

England still treats Australia like we're descendants of convicts. Well, I guess we are, aren't we? We're trying to get rid of them, but unfortunately, they're coming back with money and buying up half the country. Don't you resent the Japanese buying Rockefeller Center?

I resent the Rockefellers more.

[Having tried on everything and bought nothing, Hutchence decides against old clothes. We head down to If boutique.]

Armand Basi. Nice stuff. That Claude Montana is fabulous, but God, this stuff is expensive. We don't know anyone here for a discount, do we? My father used to design clothes for a shop in Hong Kong called Dynasty. Glitzy evening wear for too much money. One year, when we did our first tour, we bough ta lot of Sprouse, real colorful stuff, and we spent a fortune, especially when you consider it's disposable fashion. All it had to do was last a month. All the buttons fell off, it shrunk, seams opened up. We would have been more upset, but it made us homesick for the mother country. Disposable fashion is very English. The nice thing about it when it comes from there, however, is that even though the stuff falls apart, it's cheap.

Ah, I like this. Very sexy, very smart. Basi, right? I found the best underwear. I think it's called Nikos. Someone gave it to me last night. Well, that's a plug. No names, please. These pants might go with the Basi shirt. [Like Navy pants, they have over a dozen buttons instead of a fly.] Not good clubwear. Certainly not quick enough to please me.

Your choice of underwear would have to be very discreet.

And always clean. Maybe these pants come with a catheter. Should I ask the shopgirl? [He raises his arm to call her and, wincing, puts it down.]

Just realized a colostomy bag wouldn't hurt?

No. I think I have a cracked rib, from too much fun the other night at Inflation, this super club in Melbourne. Melbourne has some of the best clubs in the world. Great people. Amazing clubs. Sydney has nothing. Boring as hell. Nice place if you're a surfer. Really pretty, like L.A. But very corrupt, Sydney. Everyone is always paying everyone off. That's why you can't afford to do a club there. It's like, in order to get a club license, all the other nightclub owners have to agree to your having a license. And four people control the voting on that. Melbourne now has a club called Razor that is so exciting. It used to an automobile club, especially popular during the '50s, where people used to talk about their cars, you know, with photos of Mini-Minors making hairpin turns around corners. Like a racing club, I guess, except for slower cars. Razor gets the best people.

[He picks up a pair of huge, get-lost-in-the-rain-forest-and-survive black shoes and delights.]

Many people have shoe fetishes. I guess it's around the world actually, not just with Imelda. I think people are probably just jealous of her because they secretly wanted so many pair. But these are big, like size big. Are Americans getting larger feet, or do they just want more room? I always notice shoes when I'm here.

There's almost like a $100 tax on shoes in Australia. Like a pair that will cost you $50 here will cost you almost $200 in Australia. A pair of Levi's cost $100. I never buy furniture in Australia, either, and I have an obsession with furniture the way Americans love shoes. It's a shame I don't have an obsession with homes, too, since I have no place to put all the furniture. I have it stored all over the world.

Let me get the Basi shirt, and then I want to buy records. I would get them later, but I just remembered I have a friend coming in tonight for only one night. He and his father are trying to get down to Nicaragua. They're helping Ortega keep the Contras back. Good luck. What's so weird about their going is that these guys are publishing magnates in England. Entrepreneurs. They should be serious Thatcherites, but they just hate Thatcher. Real lefties.

If everyone is so vocal of their dislike of her, how come she's so strong?

The British love her because they love to be miserable; they love to complain. Thatcher's become irrepressible. She's finally showing signs of faltering, except she's winning by default, because no one wants to put Kinnock in, either. It's like your Dan Quayle. What an alternative.

Are Australians political?

It's compulsory to vote, if you want to call that political. Frankly, nobody particularly gives a fuck. That doesn't mean Australians are not aware people. I think they know more about what's going on in the rest of the world than the average American, but that's because they have to compensate for being in the middle of nowhere. They're more concerned about international politics, about the environment. Every time the Americans come into Sydney harbor with their nuclear ships and submarines, there's always 5,000 people telling them to fuck off.

But the hell with domestic politics?

Do you know anything about our system? It's built on a bickering sort of war. The front page is always about politicos throwing shit at each other, spending more time insulting each other than governing.

Mind you, they are really very good at it. It's a fine Australian tradition of political insult. Listening to parliament is hilarious - “Shut up, you bastard!” - and that's our prime minister, Bob Hawke. He's in the Guinness Book of World Records for having drunk a yard of beer in record time. He is actually a brilliant leader, a Rhodes scholar at Oxford, and he has done a bloody good job, considering the apathy he's up against. What he should be real pleased about its restoring pride in being Australian, particularly after all that nonsense when the governor general dismissed Prime Minister Whitlam in 1975.

How was that possible without the consent of the Australian parliament?

We're still a colony. I think a lot of us were cynical after that. They felt like puppets. Probably had something to do with the CIA. The good old CIA. I'm in their files, I found out. That they should waste their time on me. I'm listed as subversive, for my lyrics to “Guns in the Sky” and because I once threw condoms out to the audience in Northern Australia.

How is that subversive?

The more north you get in Australia, the more it is like the South in America. The man who ran Queensland, one of the biggest states in Australia, was this guy, Joh Peterson, who was in power for over 20 years. Peterson was this sort of South African leftover who arrived in Australia, and he made things illegal, like sex education, abortion, condoms to minors – you couldn't have the vending machines in clubs. [You can now.] Well, I slandered him, and so I got taken to court, where he was thrown out of office from the corruption uncovered during the proceedings.

Did that make you a hero down there?

Say what, mate? This is Australia, remember. Our heroes are bushrangers, outlaws, and sporting stars. If you're an athlete, you can get away with anything.

[Hutchence purchases the Basi shirts, and then we head to Tower Records at the corner. A street person approaches us.]

is this the official mugging committee?

Street person: “Ooh, ooh, here they come in their limo, straight from Saks Fifth Avenue. Board of directors, how you doing, moneys, you big-time decision makers. Uh-oh, who's you? You must be a rock man. Stand aside for the rock man.”

They always pick on me.

“I want to give you something, man. Some humility. But there's only enough for one.”

I don't care for some, but humility is something we can spread around.

“Hey man, this is for seriously. You will love this humility. No side effects, no speed. Say yes, and I can be back in an hour.”

[We go through the revolving door and right to the rock section; within three minutes, Max Q is playing on the system.]

That's good, somebody knows it's out.

[Hutchence buys albums by Ciccone Youth, Camper Van Beethoven, Soul II Soul, Grace Jones, Shakespear's Sister, Jesus and Mary Chain, and Suicidal Tendencies. As he is paying for them, he spots a postcard stand that features a picture of him.]

Holy shit. When did they take this thing? What a bizarre likeness. I hardly know this guy. This is not an approved photo. [He gets the attention of a young lady behind the counter.] Excuse me, please, this is not an approved photo. It's a pirate. Do you know where you get these from?

Salesgirl: “No idea.”

Can you find out?

“Why, do you want to buy a lot of them?”

See, I told you no one recognizes me.

[We walk outside and the street person comes up to him again.]

Street person: “I know who you are.”

Who am I?

“You are someone who's gonna give me a lot of money.”

How much you want?

“Just give me one of those bills, thank you. Now I'm officially your biggest fan. Just tell me what you want to buy.”

I must be dressed for success.

[adeliaharris]

My Favorite Books...

1. Harper Lee "To kill a Mockingbird"

The story of a small sleepy town in the South of America told by a little girl. The story of her brother Jim, dill's friend and her father - the honest principled lawyer Atticus Finch one of the last and best representatives of the old "southern aristocracy". The story of the trial of a black guy accused of rape a white girl. But first of all it is the story of a turning era when xenophobia, racism, intolerance and bigotry inherent in the American South are warming to the past. The "wind of change" has just begun to blow over America. What will it bring?

- This is probably one of my favorite books.The book captured from the very first pages and did not let go for a long time after reading. You can say a lot of things but better read it.

2. Khaled Hosseini "The Kite Runner"

A heartfelt story of friendship and fidelity, betrayal and redemption, penetrating to the very core. Delicate, ironic and sentimental in a good way, Khaled Hosseini's novel resembles a painting that can be looked at endlessly set in pre-war Kabul in the 1970s. In this magical city shimmering with all shades of gold and azure two weather boys Amir and Hasan live. One belonged to the local aristocracy the other to a despised minority. One's father was handsome and important the other was lame and pathetic. Master and servant, prince and beggar, handsome and crippled. But there were no people in the world closer than these two boys. Soon the Kabul idyll will be replaced by formidable storms. And the boys, like two kites, will be picked up by this storm and scattered in different directions. Each has its own destiny its own tragedy but they like in childhood are tied by the strongest bonds. You run after the kite and the wind as you run after your destiny, trying to catch it. But she will catch you.

- Psychological novel on the theme of "crime and punishment". Deeply elaborated images, convincing children's characters, a remarkably built plot - everything speaks of a great master. For me it is "heavy" literature but it has the right to be because it calls things by their proper names. And most importantly there is light in the stories of Hosseini! The light of true human feelings.

3. F. Scott Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby"

A jubilant, sparkling thirst for life, a desire for love, alluring and elusive, exciting pursuit of wealth - but now the dream breaks to the sound of jazz and the eternal holiday turns into a tragedy. "The Great Gatsby" is a novel about "how illusions are wasted which make the world so colorful that  having experienced this magic, a person becomes indifferent to the concept of true and false." F. S. Fitzgerald

- I read it and was not at all disappointed! Elegant presentation with high meaning - everything in this life is done for the sake of love. And no amount of money can replace the woman you love... And even if she is stupid, frivolous and idly living her life. I have great respect for Gatsby and contempt for Daisy. There are a lot of wonderful quotes, phrases in the book, it's worth thinking about. I didn’t expect to literally fall in love with this piece! In the future I will definitely re-read it more than once!

4. Daniel Keyes "Flowers for Algernon"

Forty years ago it was considered a fantasy. Forty years ago it read like fantasy. Exploring and expanding the boundaries of the genre eagerly absorbing all sorts of newest trends trying on a common human face bravely ignoring the Cain's stamp of the "genre ghetto". Now it is perceived as one of the most humane works of modern times as a novel of piercing psychological power, as a filigree development of the theme of love and responsibility. It is not for nothing that Keyes called his book of memoirs published in the 1990s "Algernon, Charlie and Me."

- The book is an emotion that will not make you think about something particularly difficult. All the thoughts that it generates are very simple and understandable. Without revelations, of course, but not bad either. The assessment will, rather, depend on the degree of personal sensitivity because the author often uses the concept of "naive hero-evil reality-collision-squeezing out sympathy" during the work.

5. Agatha Christie  "Murder on the Orient Express"

The great detective Hercule Poirot who was in Istanbul returns to England on the famous "Orient Express" in which it seems, representatives of all possible nationalities travel with him. One of the passengers an unpleasant American named Ratchett offers Poirot to become his bodyguard since he believes that he could be killed. The famous Belgian brushes off this absurd request. And the next day the American is found dead in his compartment with the doors closed and the window open. Poirot immediately takes up the investigation - and finds out that the compartment is full of all sorts of evidence pointing... to almost all the passengers of the Orient Express. In addition the train gets stuck in snow drifts in a deserted place. Poirot needs to find the killer before the express can continue on its way...

- I liked the book. Pretty easy to read. The plot is "confused" from the very beginning but Mr. Poirot is yet  a world-famous detective. It is better to read about all the twists and turns of the investigation on your own, "immersion" is guaranteed.

6. Stieg Larsson "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"

Forty years of the mystery of the disappearance of a young relative haunts the aging industrial tycoon and now he makes the last attempt in his life - entrusts his search to journalist Mikael Blomkvist. He takes on a hopeless business more in order to distract himself from his own troubles but soon realizes: the problem is even more complicated than it seems at first glance.

What is the connection between a long-standing incident on the territory with the use of mobile devices which happened in different years in different parts of Sweden? What does the quotation from the Third Book of Moses have to do with it? And who, after all, attempted on the life of Michael himself when he came too close to the solution?

- The whole trilogy left a deep impression. Such books appear very rarely. Out-of-the-box characters, amazing Sweden, dark atmosphere. I advise absolutely everyone!

7. Ray Bradbury "Fahrenheit 451"

Perhaps the best of Bradbury's writings. The story "Fahrenheit 451" depicts a dystopian society of the future but in fact - "our reality, reduced to absurdity." Bradbury invented a state where reading and keeping books is prohibited. For the sake of political correctness and general peace of mind the general level of spiritual and intellectual demands of citizens is artificially lowered. But there are rebels and fugitives.

This is one of Bradbury's rare sci-fi works. Very exciting touching and at the same time very lively and dynamic. With a relatively simple plot, it is full of allusions including biblical texts and complex symbolism.

- This is just a great book! I advise everyone to read it! Despite the fact that the author wrote it in 1953 this does not feel at all. A very interesting and poignant plot for our time.

8. Victor Hugo "Les Miserables"

All the works of the great French poet, novelist and playwright Victor Marie Hugo (1802-1885) are covered with a halo of romanticism. The idea of ​​life-giving love, mercy, the triumph of good over evil - this is the core of his novel "Les Miserables". Among the "outcasts" are Jean Valjean sentenced to 20 years for stealing bread for his starving family and the little dirty Cosette who turned into a charming girl and a child of the Parisian streets of Gavroche...

- Brilliant work! So thoughtful, so overwhelming and so humane. The inimitable Hugo put all his philanthropy into this magnificent novel!

9. Stephen King "The Green Mile"

Stephen King invites readers to the eerie world of the death row where they leave in order not to return, opens the door of the last refuge of those who have transgressed not only human but also God's law. There is no more deadly place on this side of the electric chair! Nothing you've read before beats Stephen King's most audacious horror experience - a story that begins on Death Road and goes deep into the deepest secrets of the human soul...

- I have been familiar with the work of S. King for a long time and have read more than a dozen of his books. The work "The Green Mile" is a story that will not let you go for a long time. She leaves a residue in her soul - mixed feelings and indescribable impressions from the story itself, unique and ingenious.

10. Gregory David Roberts "Shantaram"

This art-refracted confession of a man who managed to get out of the abyss and survive, has sold four million copies around the world and has earned rave comparisons with the works of the best writers of the modern era from Melville to Hemingway. Like the author the hero of this novel has been hiding from the law for many years. Deprived of parental rights after a divorce from his wife, he became addicted to drugs, committed a number of robberies and was sentenced by an Australian court to nineteen years in prison. Having escaped from a maximum security prison in his second year, he reached Bombay where he was a counterfeiter and smuggler, traded arms and participated in the showdown of the Indian mafia and also found his true love, to lose it again, to find it again...

- It is very difficult to somehow categorically evaluate this novel. There are many advantages here: a fascinating story of the wanderings of the protagonist in the world of a harsh exotic country. Together with him, the reader develops, absorbs the alien culture and energy of other people, people of another world to which we are not used to. However there is something ridiculous about this.  At times it seems that we are watching real Indian cinema - the brainchild of Bollywood naive and merciless. In general I liked the novel, it is interesting, bright, impetuous. During the period of reading this great story, I have never been bored. Despite some controversial points - I advise!

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 28

Warnings: none really

Tagging: @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light, @thorsbathroomchicken, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

The phone call comes in shortly before one pm; the SAT system easily tracing the number back to the Slainte pub.  At first she just blankly stares at the digits and the name on the screen, not having the energy or the patience to deal with whatever bullshit would greet her the moment she answers.  She's in a 'mood'. Rapidly switching from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs;  either dissolving into tears at the drop of a hat or frantically cleaning the room and organizing paper work and files on the lap top. Torn between wanting to curl up in bed and stay there for the entire day, and desperately wanting something...anything...to keep her mind occupied. She's nauseous. Dizzy. A pounding headache that sits at the base of her skull and above her eyes.

Stress. Always the same old, same old when her nerves are shot.  The same symptoms she suffers with for days when Tyler walks out of the house for a job.  Incessant worry accompanied by crippling fear and the deepest and darkest recesses of depression.  But at home she is able to beat it; focusing on the kids, concentrating on their needs, their laughter and their smiles and all of their hugs and their kisses making it all a bit easier to handle.

The SAT phone beeps. Indicating a text message.  Groaning loudly in protest, she throws off the comforter as she lays on her stomach in the middle of the bed, propping herself up on one elbow as she reaches out for the offending object.

You missed a call.  Nik's message reads. Everything okay?

Part of her wants to tell Nik to fuck off and leave her alone.  That it's partly her fault for getting her mixed up into this god awful shitty mess to begin with. Nik could have had her side in the whole thing; adamantly refusing to bring her into the fold, not allowing Yaz and Tyler to call the shots when it came to the Intel and now the tactical sides of things. But Nik had just thrown her under the bus; offering her up like some kind of sacrificial lamb. Acting as if there weren't other people that couldn't do the job. Other mercenaries looking for work. Who were much more experienced. Seasoned. Hardened. Instead of putting all her faith and trust into someone who had become nothing more than a housewife and stay at home mother.

The other part reminds Esme that Nik is her friend. Regardless of her history with Tyler. Nik was the one who'd initially brought her into the fold five and a half years ago; who'd brought her along when she'd gone to the little shack in the Australian outback to recruit Tyler for the Dhaka job.  In a way, it was all Nik's doing; had she not brought Esme aboard and had her tag along that day, this part of her life wouldn't even exist. There would be no Tyler.  No hobby farm in Colorado. No children. She would more than likely still be living the old existence; living out of suitcases as she travelled place to place. Lying. Conning. Getting people to trust her so she in turn could help destroy them.

Fell asleep, she types back.  If it's important, they'll call back.

She waits for the response. And in true Nik fashioned, it makes her want to hurl the phone across the room.

Get your head on straight, E. We don't have time for this.

Sighing heavily, she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. One hand on her queasy, cramping stomach, the other holding the SAT down at her side. He's been gone for an hour; McCann had insisted on meeting forty five minutes from Belfast. Worried that there were too many eyes and ears within the city itself and that word would travel fast and the end result would be hell on earth.  He had a lot of enemies within the IRA. He knew too much. Deep and dark secrets that could bring down a lot of very powerful people. And his involvement with someone like Tyler would set off a lot of alarms.

She worries that it's more. Something far more devious. Dangerous.  He hasn't given them any reason to trust him. Right off the hop he'd fed them complete and utter bullshit regarding his New Zealand extraction; convincing them that his wife just nothing but a lowly, random shopkeeper when she'd actually been the reason he'd been hired in the first place. He hadn't gone after on a rescue mission; he'd been hired by the devil to take her straight back to hell.  A man in this thirties wooing and winning a seventeen year old girl that was essentially at his mercy. That alone is extremely troubling. And taking into account his ties to the IRA and possible lingering connections to them, it was easy to assume that his plan to get Tyler nearly an hour away from the safety net of Belfast is also some of ruse. To get him alone and vulnerable.  

Or to hit him where it really hurts and get her alone and vulnerable.

The nausea increases.  Eyes closing as she rubs her stomach in slow, smooth circles, struggling to keep a grip on the runaway emotions.  They normally weren't this bad. Usually she could easily talk herself out of the stress and the panic before they hit head on. But now it feels as if it's going way too quick. Too fast, too soon.  So much worry and anxiety that it makes her head spin and her chest ache.

Her SAT rings once more. The pub. Again.  Only this time she's able to get a grip, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and moving towards her laptop as it sits open on the table by the window.  Once she's within a foot it causes the system to come alive; the recording of the call beginning even before she presses talk.

****

“Hello?”

“Is this Meghan?”

She recognizes his voice.  Billy. The barkeep from the pub.

 “William,” she warmly greets, with the same flirtatious tone she'd used the night before when she'd dropped his full name for the first time. She'd noticed then how it seemed to get under his skin; in a good way.  That little smile that tugged at his lips,  the slight blush in her cheeks and the tips of her eyes, the way his eyes seemed to soften and sparkle.

It had been one the easiest marks of her career.  Most took a while to warm up to her.  Taking weeks to even months to soften up their hardened and weathered exteriors. But he'd been eager; ready to let someone in. And what better someone than an established, attractive, and seemingly available woman? One that would do anything...or perhaps even anyone...to get ahead in the world.

“I hope I didn't catch you in a bad spot. I was wondering if you had a little time to spare.”

“For you?” she leans back in her chair, a barefoot planted against the cool glass of the sliding door. A far cry from the evening before when she'd played the part in her business slacks and curve hugging blouse. Clad now in one of her her husband's tattered and frayed t-shirts and pair of baggy grey track pants with the Emery surfboard company name and logo down one leg; small blotches of bleach dotting the fabric in several places. No make up and her hair messy.  “For you I can make the time, William.”

A silent pause. And she smirks as she leans further back in the chair and places her second foot against the window, twirling a piece of hair around her index finger.

“I like that,” he says.  “The way you call me that.”

“Well that is you're name, isn't it?” she crosses one her legs over the thigh of the other, bouncing her heel up and down against the glass. “You are William, are you not?  That is what Billy is short for, I assume.”

“It is,” he confirms with a chuckle. “It's just that no one has called me that in a long time. Since my wife.”

“You're married?” she reaches over to snag the pen and spiral bound notebook off the table. It's full of random notes and doodles in various different colours of ink; her and Tyler both using it to hurriedly jot down names and numbers and any other bits and pieces of information, vital or not.  It's old school and shouldn't be necessary with the computer recording everything off the SAT, but technology isn't always fool proof.

“I was. We're divorced. Bad break up. She was shagging a mate of mine.”

“Well that's unfortunate,” she hurriedly flips to a fresh page of paper and places the book on her thigh. “Hard to believe anyone would cheat on someone like you. If you forgive me for being so bold, but you aren't exactly lacking in the looks department.  You're quite the head turner. In my humble opinion.”

“Well thank you,” he chuckles, and she can practically see the blush creeping into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It's not entirely a lie; he is quite easy on the eyes.  And a much younger and single Esme would have considered..albeit briefly...crossing that line between business and personal.  “You're easy to look at yourself. Very easy to look at actually.”

“I take it this isn't a business call,” she muses.  

“Not entirely. It's a little bit of both. Business and pleasure.”

She smirks.  “And what kind of pleasure are we talking about? Because I don't usually get into that sort of thing with someone I barely know.”

“I was thinking dinner. And drinks. If you're free.”

“Well that depends.”

“On what?”

“If you tell me a little more about yourself.  I can't jump into anything with a stranger.  A young woman, alone in a foreign country, far from home. That wouldn't be smart would it? If I just blindly trusted you and took you up on the offer?”

“Well what is you want to know?”

“Well I think dinner and drinks calls for first and last names,” she says.  “You know mine. So...”

“It's Flynn. My last name,”

“William Flynn,” she repeats, as she jots it down. “That has a very nice ring to it. How old are you William Flynn?”

'How old are you?” he counters.

“I asked first. And isn't it always ladies first?”

“I suppose,” he chuckles.  “Twenty eight. And you.”

“Thirty,” she lies.

“I honestly thought much younger,” he admits, and she can't help but let it inflate her ego. And encourage her to continue with the little game. “You look good. For thirty. Very good, actually.  Do you have children?”

“No,” that lie actually hurts to tell it, and she tries to push the intense feeling of guilt to the back of her mind.  “I'm too focused on my career right now. You?”

“A son. He's three. Collin. Lives with his mom. In Dublin.”

She continues to scribble things down.  “That's sad,” she hopes it sounds sincere. “I hope you get to spend time with him. That's quite the trek down to Dublin.”

“Every second weekend. I'd like it to be more often but...” he sighs.  “...it is what it is.  So you're not married? But you still wear a ring?”

“I've had a hard time severing that last string. It's a bitter pill to swallow. When the man of your dreams pick his job over you. When your happily ever after doesn't exactly turn out that way.  He wasn't happy. As a husband. We were much happier before. Before things got too serious.”

“Well pardon me for saying this, but he's a goddamn fool. He has to be to choose work over the likes of you. So have you thought about it? My offer? Dinner and drinks?”

“I'm intrigued,” she admits.  “What's in this for me? Other than the handsome and charming company?”

“I have some information. About what you asked about last night. Michael McMann. About his wife and kids and whose involved and trying to stir up trouble. And I've got some names. Of other people you can contact. That are willing to talk.  People that are higher up than I am. With real connections.”

“Higher up in...”

“The IRA.”

She grins victoriously and in big letters at the top of the page, right under the name William Flynn, prints those three initials.  “You're involved with them? The IRA?”

“It's the family business. What I can tell you is that we're not involved in this. With the wife and kids. We hate the guy. He screwed us over. But we'd never do that. Especially to kids. Even we draw the line somewhere.  But whoever is doing this has pissed off a lot of people. Tempers are running high. We want to find out who it is and do something about it.”

“Like a turf war?”  she writes that down, accenting it with a big question mark.

“There's a lot of trouble brewing, that's for sure. We want nothing to do with this. The wife and the kids. And they're using us to draw attention away from themselves.”

“Any idea who it is?”

“No real proof. Just lots of rumours. I shouldn't be talking about all of this right now,” he gives a small chuckle. “What will we talk about dinner?”

“Oh I'm sure we can find things to talk about,” she assures him.

“Or things to do.”

“Now don't go putting all your eggs into one basket. I'm not that type girl.”

“I'm sorry, Meghan. I never meant anything by it. Forgive me for being too forward. I...”

“What time for dinner? Tonight is unfortunately not going to work for me. I have prior arrangements that can't be cancelled. But if you're free tomorrow, I can certainly clear my schedule.”

“Tomorrow would be wonderful. I know this is terribly bold of me, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You've been on my mind constantly. Since you walked into the bar. You're very...intriguing. I can't quite get a read on you. There's something so different about you. Way different than any of the women from around here.  A mystery, almost. There's so much I'd like to find out.”

“Well if you play your cards right, maybe I'll let you find those things out,” she responds.  

“Tomorrow? Six thirty?”

“How about seven? It gives me longer to get ready.”

“Done,” he agrees. “Where do I pick you up?”

Shit, she hadn't even considered that this question would come up.   It has been smooth sailing; much easier and seamless than so many initial encounters.

“Meghan?”

“You know,  I'm not entirely comfortable with a stranger knowing where I'm staying. I'm a little paranoid about that sort of thing. You can never be too careful in this day and age. How about we meet somewhere? In public. I hate to be such a bother and a worry wart, but...”

“How about we meet her at the bar? We could go in the back room. It's private there. We can have dinner. A few drinks. See where the night takes us.”

She groans internally.   “Sounds like a plan,” she chirps. “I'm very much looking forward to seeing you again. To chatting more.  I'm flattered. That you thought of me.”

“I've been obsessed with you,” he admits.

“Well hopefully you hold onto some of that enthusiasm.  I have to go. I have an online meeting with my editor in a few, so...”

“I'm very much looking forward to tomorrow,” he says.  “And I'm flattered as well. That you'd agree to have dinner with me.”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she promises.  “Seven.”

“Seven,” he confirms, and then offers a soft, quiet goodbye before hanging up the phone.

****

“Well this isn't how I expected things to go,” Mark says, smirking from the passenger's seat of the rented SUV. “You asking me for help.”

“It's the last thing I want to be doing, believe me.  You're the last person I want to be dealing with.  Ever.”

“So why am I here? What's got the legendary Tyler Rake swallowing his pride and actually asking someone for help? You're usually a one man show from what I've heard. Must be some serious shit if you're willing to suck it up and give someone a call. Especially me.”

Tyler sighs, eyes briefly closing as he pinches the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger. “You're already making me regret this.  Could you maybe shut the fuck up for five seconds? I don't have the time or the tolerance to listen to your bullshit. I don't want to hear any comments about my marriage, no opinions on how I handle things with my wife, no stupid shit about my personal life or my kids or none of that. This is strictly business. So let's keep it that way, yeah?

“Fair enough,” Mark agrees. “So what's up? What's going on?”

“This McMann guy,” Tyler begins. “There's no way of knowing what he's really up to. If he's innocent in all of this or he's actually part of it. If he's the victim in all of this or if  this is some really crazy act of revenge and he's just wanting to get me alone.”

“I thought you didn't have history with this guy? With the IRA? Or with the wife?”

“I don't know. Well, not that I can remember anyway,” he confesses. “There's things...a lot of things ...that I don't remember. Dhaka...everything that happened on the bridge...it's fucked with my head. I'm not sure if it's because of blood loss or lack of oxygen or all the meds I've been on. But there's things I don't remember. No matter how hard I try to.  So maybe I did have history with them. Maybe I did have a job they were involved in and I pissed them off and I just don't remember it.”

“And when you didn't recognize McMann when he showed up in Telluride, he decided to play it for all it's worth,” Mark concludes.

“Maybe. I don't know. He seemed like he was on the up and up. About what's going on with his wife and his kids. But there's a couple times where he's said some things that didn't quite sit right. I brought up how if...when...things go to shit...he might not be able to get his kids out. Not both of them, anyway. He threw it back in my face. Asking me how I'd decide which of the twins to save.”

Mark scowls. “That's a bitch move.”

Tyler nods. “I told him there'd be no decision. That I'd give up my life for theirs. No hesitation. If it meant saving them and getting them back to their mother, that it was something I was willing to do. It would be easier on Esme. If she lost me instead of one of the kids. She'd get over me. But she'd never get over losing one of them. She's an amazing mum. And I'm lucky. To have her. That she's the mother of my kids.”

“It's what she always wanted. Kids. I just wasn't the man to give her that.”

“McMann wasn't on the same page as I was.  The idea seemed ridiculous to him. Having to make that kind of decision.  He wasn't...he isn't willing to sacrifice himself for them. I found it weird. That there'd be any hesitation whatsoever. How do you not want to save your kids? Your blood?  They're your legacy. Why would you not want to let them go on and live long and happy lives? It didn't sit well with me. I haven't been able to get it out of my head.”

“There's guys without kids that would make the same decision as you. I saw it overseas. In Iraq. You probably did too. Soldiers ready and willing to sacrifice themselves to save random kids...and women...from the Taliban.”

Tyler nods. “I've seen it a few times, actually. I've even known mercenaries that have given themselves up to save someone.”

“You almost did,” Mark points out.  “Even after things went to hell and there was no money, you still busted your ass to kid that get out. And Esme.”

“I wasn't going to leave them behind. No matter who wanted me to. And if it meant I died for them...” he shrugs.  “...it was what I was willing to do.”

Mark nods slowly, considering his words. The sincerity in his voice. In his eyes.

“Esme doesn't trust him,” Tyler says. “McMann. And she has great instincts. Better than mine sometimes. She didn't want me going into this alone. She's worried sick. That this could all be a trap and McMann's got an army of guys just waiting to ambush me. I need to give her peace of mind. And I promised her I'd come back safe.  That I'd come back to her.  She trusts you. I don't know why. Considering everything you did to her...” he holds up his hand; a plea for silence when the other man opens his mouth to speak. “....but she trusts you. You're the only one I could call. Yaz was made the same time I was. I can't be seen in public with Esme or she'd be made and that will fuck up her end of things. So I called you.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“Because you know I'd fuck you up if you crossed me.  You know I won't hesitate killing you.  And I don't think you want that, do you. You can act all big and bad, walk around wagging your mouth, try to get under my skin.  But you know the stories. All the bloody and gory details. You know what I'm capable of. And you know I won't mind adding you to the body count.”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Mark's mouth. Not nearly as confident as the ones he's given before.

“So this is me, asking you for help. Now are you in or you're out, mate? Because I don't have all day.”

Mark hesitates. Then offers a hand. An agreement. “I'm in.”

****

“William Robert Flynn,”  Yaz reads the information aloud from where he sits at the table in Esme and Tyler's room, his own laptop and ipad spread across the table.  “Born March 15th, 1997, right here in Belfast. Parents are Robert and Elizabeth Flynn. Nee McDonald.  Dad is deceased. 2011. Mother is still alive. Lives in England now. Remarried.”

“How did the father die?” Nik inquires, her image on the laptop screen. “Suspicious circumstances?”

“Coroner's report lists self inflicted gun shot wound to the head.”

“There's a police report,” Esme speaks up from across the table, her own computer in her lap, a plate of barely touched room service food in front of her. She'd been hungry and had taken it as a sign that the nausea was finally at bay. Until the first bite and attempted swallow had her running for the bathroom.  Her head pounds. Frantically. And she reaches for a bottle of water and the container of Advil in the middle of the table. “Says that William Flynn was the one who discovered his father. In the back garden. Face down in a pool of blood. Gun was lying next to him. A nine millimeter. Glock.  Spent shell casing near by.”

“He would have only been fourteen,” Yaz says. “Same age Ovi was in Dhaka. Hell of an age to walk into something like that. Your old man missing half his head.”

“Any evidence that says it may have not been a suicide?” Nik asks.

“The police reports are shit,” Esme replies, as she pops three of the tablets into her mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. “I've seen some pretty amateur ones, but this has to be one of the worst. Obviously the cops and the coroner didn't think this case mattered. He was an IRA member. Probably caused a world of trouble when he was around. They were just glad he was gone. Why waste the resources, they probably figured.”

“There was no gunshot residue on his hands,” Yaz says. “Or at least that's what the report says. And he's not wearing gloves in any of the photos, so...”

“It was a hit,” his sister concludes. “Before any of this, was there any connections between the IRA or the Buckmans? Anything that stands out? Anything that could tie Robert Flynn to the Buckmans?”

“Not that we've recovered so far,” Esme says. “But we're still digging.  Robert Flynn was pretty high up in the IRA. One of their best and longest serving members. A real enforcer. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty.  His son is an active member.  They have ties to the IRA going back to the grandfather and great grandfather. Not to mention several cousins and uncles still in the movement. It's the family business, apparently.”

“So William Flynn obviously knows Michael McMann,” Nik concludes. “And vice versa. Anything that shows a feud between them?”

“Nothing on paper,” Esme responds. “But he told me that everyone in the IRA is pissed as hell with McMann. For betraying them. And taking a lot of secrets and dirty shit with him when he left. And now they're even more pissed because McMann's out there saying that it's the IRA that scooped his wife and his kids. And they'd admit to that. The IRA would definitely claim responsibility. They've never denied ties to even some of their broader scale bullshit. So they'd admit to this.”

“We were wondering if maybe this is all a big ploy to make things blow up within the IRA,” Yaz speaks up. “To stir the pot enough that an outsider comes in and starts it all off. That maybe that's what Tyler is being used for. To kick it all off.  What better way for McMann to draw attention away from himself? Let Tyler cause the shit and then leave him hung out to dry.”

Esme sighs, briefly closing her eyes and laying a hand over her queasy stomach.

“Are you okay?” Nik inquires. “You look a little...off.”

“Just stress. This is all just so insane. It's so twisted and so fucked up and now Tyler's out there...alone...meeting with this guy. What if he has people with him? What if he's got a whole damn army behind him and Tyler's just walking into a huge trap? He's good. But he's not that good. He wouldn't stand a chance and you both know it.”

Yaz attempts a reassuring smile. “He'll be okay. He's smart. He knows what he's doing. Your man isn't stupid, that's for sure. Look what he handled in Dhaka. When he went into that apartment to extract Ovi.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Yaz. I do. But there's a huge difference between street thugs in Dhaka and the IRA.  These people are extremely dangerous. Extremely dangerous. And they show no mercy.”

“And neither does Tyler,” he points out.  “If anyone can handle this, it's him.”

“He should never have went there alone,” Esme huffs. “It was dangerous. Foolish. Sending him in by himself.”

“We don't have anyone there to help,” Nik attempts to reason. “Resources are extremely thin. It's the three of you and that's it. And the rest of the team is out on other assignments or they're here helping keep an eye on things. He'll be fine,  Esme. He always is.”

“Oh really? Always? Because I seem to vividly remember him bleeding to death on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Or are we just forgetting that that happened? Oh wait, it's because you two took off to get Ovi to safety and you left Tyler there to die. And you left me there to watch him die.”

“That isn't how it happened and you know it,” Nik seems hurt by the explanation. “We came back for you. For both of you.”

“Half a goddamn hour later! Thirty minutes I spent with my hand pressed to his neck, trying to keep him alive. While he bled out all over the fucking place. You weren't there. You weren't the one holding him there on the bridge. You weren't the one with blood on your hands. His blood. So I'm sorry if I'm not as appreciative for your help as you'd like me to be, Nik.”

“Okay....okay...” Yaz pleads for calm.  “....let's not rehash this. It's over five years ago.”

“Five years ago, five weeks ago, five days ago,” Esme snarls. “It still happened. And pretending it never did is bullshit. It's bullshit and it's completely disrespectful. To Tyler. To just push it aside like you've both been doing all these years. Acting like it was no big deal. You got him into that mess, Nik. You brought him into that bullshit and then you left him there.  You left both of us there. What would have happened had you not come back? He would have died there. And who the hell knows what would have happened to me once Asif realized he didn't totally finish the job. And let's not forget that you wanted Tyler and I to leave Ovi in the goddamn street. You wanted us to just throw the kid to the wolves.”

“I wanted the two of you out of there,” Nik argues. “I wanted you both safe. The kid held you back. Had you gotten rid of him, both you and Tyler would have made it out of there before everything blew up in our faces.”

“He was a kid! He was a kid and you wanted us to just leave him there! Jesus, Nik. Do you realize how that makes you sound? Like a bloody sociopath.”

Yaz sighs. “This solves nothing. You two going at each other like this. I know it's been a long time coming but...”

“You probably wanted him to leave me there too,” Esme says. “I'm actually surprised you didn't suggest it.  You knew what was going on. Between Tyler and I. And you hated it even then. You hated the idea of me in his life. Because it took him away from you.”

“That's not true. I was pissed off that the two of you were so goddamn reckless and foolish and you actually thought it was good idea to start fucking each other while on the job. You couldn't wait until it was all over? The two of you were that desperate and horny that you had to fuck each other on my time?”

“Enough,” Yaz snaps. “Both of you. This is bullshit. We're all in this together. It doesn't matter what happened back then. It was five and a half years ago. So they fucked each other. No one else gave a shit. No one else cared. Only one it bothered was you Nik.”

“Because she wasn't the one fucking him,” Esme pipes up. “Not anymore, anyway. All the more reason she probably wanted him to leave me in the street. Get me out of the way so she could climb back into his bed again.”

“It doesn't matter,” Yaz insists. “It wasn't going to happen. Once Tyler met you, that was it. It was over. And you...” he glares at his sister through the laptop screen.  “...they're together. It happened. They're married. They've got kids. Let it go already. Let him go.”

“I've had enough of this,” Nik fumes. “We'll pick this up again later. When certain people can actually stay focused on the job at hand. That seems to be a thing for you, Esme. You couldn't stay focused in Dhaka either.”

“Fuck you, Nik. Seriously. Fuck you. I don't need to be here. I'm not one of your employees. I'm helping you, remember?”

No response. Just a black screen signalling the other woman has already logged off.

Yaz sighs, shaking his head in disbelief.  “I know that that's been coming for five and a half years, but shit. Could you not have waited until after we discussed all of this? Was it really that important that you just had to get to it?”

“Don't you start, Yaz. You know everything I said is true. She left us there. On that bridge. While he was dying. While I was trying to keep him alive.”

“What were we supposed to do? We had to get Ovi out of there.”

“Oh I don't know. Maybe it would have been nice to help me get Tyler the fuck out of there. How about that?”

“There was no time. There were going to be more cops. Military even. We had to get Ovi out of there.”

“So to hell with the two people that busted their asses to get Ovi there in one piece right? To hell with the fact that your friend is lying there with a gunshot wound to his throat, bleeding out all over the place. Tyler wasn't useful anymore.  He did what you all needed him to do and it no longer matter what happened to him. And if I just so happened to get killed too, oh well. No big loss, right?”

“We came back. I told Nik we had to go back for you guys and...”

“Wait...wait...” she stares at him incredulously. “...you had to tell her to go back and get us?”

“She thought it was too dangerous. That the situation was still too hot.  She didn't want to ask anymore  lives. But I told her that I couldn't just leave you guys there. That if Asif found out that things weren't finished and he sent more people down there, neither of you would stand a chance. I told her I was going back in to get you guys. Whether she helped me or not.”

“So she was more than willing to leave us there. To leave Tyler there. After what he'd done to make sure he got Ovi there? To get both of us there? She was okay with just leaving him to die?”

“To be honest, we thought he'd be dead when we got back. We didn't expect him to be alive still. We all saw what happened. What were the chances that he'd actually survive that? That you would have actually been able to keep him alive?”

“I wasn't leaving him there. I wasn't letting him die. Do you know what that was like? To go through that? To try and convince someone not to just give up? When dying is much easier than the fight not to? I had my fingers in his goddamn throat, Yaz. I had to stick my fingers in his neck to try and block the artery. I can still feel it. How hot the blood was. I can still feel his pulse against my fingers. And I can still smell it. Like it was yesterday.  Do you have any idea what that was like?”

“No,” he shakes his head sadly. “And I'm sorry you have to remember all of that. That you had to go through it.”

“I didn't let him die on that bridge and I'm sure as hell not going to sit back and let him die here either. Maybe your sister was willing to let that happen, but I'm not.  His life means more than that. A hell of a lot more. He's not the same Tyler he was back then.  The one that had a death wish. He's my husband, Yaz. The father of my children.  And there is no way I'm letting anyone send him out there to die.”

“You're doing what you can. The intel. The tactical.  There's only so much you can do, Esme. Killing yourself isn't going to save him. Getting yourself killed trying to keep him alive solves nothing. Because if something happens to you, he'll put a gun in his mouth. Or he'll drink himself to death. He would not survive that. You know it, I know it.”

She sighs, a frown on her face as she runs a hand over her unsettled stomach.

“You look like shit,” Yaz observes.

“Well thanks. I'm so glad you pointed that out.”

“You're not...you know...”

She laughs. “You have something against saying the actual word? No. I'm not pregnant. We've been trying. But it hasn't happened yet. This is definitely stress. I know the difference. I've been through three pregnancies. I felt the same way with each of them. I knew right away that it wasn't stress and that I wasn't just sick.  This? This is not the like any of those three times. It's definitely stress. Worry. And I miss home. I miss my kids. I just want to go home and see them.”

“Soon,” he promises. “This will all be over soon.”

She gives a shaky, skeptical smile.  

She hopes he's right.

[slurrmp]

not another info sheet. part II

                                       elenore white (doctor who)

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: elenore campbell white PRONUNCIATION: EL-a-nor MEANING: compassion, foreign REASONING: just a name that her mother really liked NICKNAME(S): ellie, nore, nelle PREFERRED NAME(S): ellie BIRTH DATE: march 6th 1992 AGE: 27 ZODIAC: pieces GENDER: female PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual NATIONALITY: british/australian ETHNICITY: white CURRENT LOCATION: sheffield, united kingdom LIVING CONDITIONS: in a small flat that sits just above her small cafe in the city. TITLE(S): miss

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: albany, western australia HOMETOWN: sheffield SOCIAL CLASS: middle class EDUCATION LEVEL: finished high school FATHER: bernard white (deceased) MOTHER: patricia white (nee dunham) (alive) SIBLING(S): none BIRTH ORDER: only child CHILDREN: none PET(S): only pet she owns is the tabby cat that likes to sit on her balcony when she’s home. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: none PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: she had a short term boyfriend when in high school, but because they traveled regularly she could never settle down properly. ARRESTS?: was once caught stealing from a local 7eleven when she was 16 and quite drunk. PRISON TIME?: none

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: running and owning her own cafe SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: none TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: she travels with the master - that’s her income APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: usually it depends on how well her cafe does. which it does, during both summer and winter months. around about 50k CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: it’s what she was born to do PAST JOB(S): went straight from high school to working in a local bakery, which didn’t really help pay the bills but was enough to help her keep learning. (desk agent with UNIT) SPENDING HABITS: hardly buys anything for herself. most of her furniture and clothes are second hand. what she does spend on are product for her cafe and also the occasional cat food for the stray tabby MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her father’s wedding ring, which her mother gave to her when he passed

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: ellie enjoyed water polo when in school, so swimming was everything to her - which means that she is quite strong in her legs and arms. OFFENSE: no DEFENSE: yes. only when needed however SPEED: not much of a runner. however, will sprint if her life is in danger INTELLIGENCE: hated maths in school, as well as science. however, she is in no way stupid ACCURACY: terrible AGILITY: pretty flexable, can move around objects and people easy STAMINA: it’s fairly good TEAMWORK: there’s only one other person she depends upon TALENTS: can make a mean souffle SHORTCOMINGS: she’s very quick to trust, as well as wanting to help everyone LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, a little bit of swedish DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes SWIM?: yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: she enjoys strumming a guitar PLAY CHESS?: no BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: yes PICK A LOCK?: no

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: victoria pedretti EYE COLOR: blue HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: dead straight, however, with a bit of styling it will have a curl GLASSES/CONTACTS?: no DOMINANT HAND: left HEIGHT: 5′4″ WEIGHT: 58 kg BUILD: she’s short and skinny. but toned from all the water polo she played in high school, as well as all the training that she went through when she joined unit. EXERCISE HABITS: she’s terrible at keeping up with the gym, however running from a different species every week sure helps her keep fit. SKIN TONE: slightly tanned, however still pale TATTOOS: her star sign, pisces, on the inside of her middle finger. PEIRCINGS: ears ( double lobe ), helix, upper lip (however she never wears it in anymore) MARKS/SCARS: a birthmark in the shape of a what looks like a star on the underside of her arm. scar on her left thigh from falling out of a tree when she was a kid. a small scar on her right cheek (caused by the master) NOTABLE FEATURES: her blue eyes USUAL EXPRESSION: bubbly - bright - wide eyed CLOTHING STYLE: summer dresses mainly, bright and bold colours. during winter jeans and a fashionable jumper is what you’d find her in. when traveling with the master - it will depend on the planet, but always with sneakers or flat shoes. she learnt the hard way that sandals suck on a different planet JEWELRY: bracelets and a bangle that she’s had since she was a child. her father’s wedding ring, worn as a necklace ALLERGIES: most flowers, shellfish BODY TEMPERATURE: always running a slightly higher temperature than normal DIET: immaculate, considering she loves cooking most of her meals. however, after a hard day a work, she will get fast food PHYSICAL AILMENTS: had a broken leg when she was younger, however, nothing hindering her (yet)

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: entj ENNEAGRAM TYPE:   the peacemaker MORAL ALIGNMENT:  lawful good ELEMENT: water PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE:   logical-mathematical APPROXIMATE IQ: 127 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: a little bit of ptsd after her previous work SOCIABILITY: very out going and loves to meet new people EMOTIONAL STABILITY: perfectly stable (this eventually changes) OBSESSION(S): making sure that everything goes her way, that everything is perfect and that nothing is messed up PHOBIA(S): claustrophobic, fear of insects, open water ADDICTION(S): none DRUG USE: none ALCOHOL USE: limited PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: almost like a child - likes to use the abbreviation of words, especially when it comes to taking orders at work. however, when in business mode, she is able to speak ‘properly’ ACCENT: a little bit of that sheffield twang, however, she still has a hint of an aussie accent QUIRKS: bottom lip always finds its place between her teeth HOBBIES: cooking and baking is her life, going to the markets every weekend, binging tv shows that she’s missed through the week HABITS: has a habit of biting her nails NERVOUS TICKS:  pacing when she’s nervous DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: to survive. she’s on her own now and she knows what’s out there, ellie is just trying to make a living for herself so that she can survive the next alien attack FEARS: dying. it’s a common one, but she knows what’s out there, losing her friends and her mother POSITIVE TRAITS:  strong willed, brave, will stand up for herself NEGATIVE TRAITS:  too trusting, willing to see the best in everyone, very stubborn SENSE OF HUMOR:  oh it’s dry but also a little dark DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?:  on and off CATCHPHRASE(S): what the hell is that?

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: baking ANIMAL: otter BEVERAGE: white wine BOOK: war and peace CELEBRITY: george clooney COLOR: pastel grey DESIGNER: jimmy choo FOOD: roast chicken FLOWER: she’s allergic, but if she had to choose, lotus GEM: sapphire HOLIDAY: christmas MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: local transport MOVIE: 13 going on 30 MUSICAL ARTIST: sleeping at last SCENERY: a bright and sunny day in the park SCENT: flour, cookie dough SPORT: ice hockey SPORTS TEAM: pittsburg penguins TELEVISION SHOW: new girl WEATHER: spring VACATION DESTINATION: back to her birth place, australia

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: to become a world famous baker GREATEST FEAR: seeing earth fall into the wrong hands MOST AT EASE WHEN: when she’s in the kitchen. it is absolutely the place she goes to when she’s sad, stressed, happy, angry LEAST AT EASE WHEN:  backed into a corner, being accused of something that she didn’t do WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: being left behind on an alien planet by her travel companion BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: opening her own cafe BIGGEST REGRET:  not settling down MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:  she told the kind of france to fuck off when she was having a bad day. safe to say that she isn’t welcome back in 17th century frace BIGGEST SECRET:  her love for the master TOP PRIORITIES: her cafe

[thetriggeredhappy]

8 and 55 Speeding Bullet, please? Thx!

wasn’t sure if you meant both #8 and also one for #55 or if you meant one drabble encompassing both of them so i just went ahead and did the second one. strap in fellas we’re about to get Angsty

8.) “This isn’t what I wanted.”

55.) “Just smile. I really need you to smile right now.”

Sniper’s hand was cold and clammy, alternating between lying very, very still, and gripping back hard enough to nearly hurt. That said, Scout preferred the second one. It helped him convince himself that Sniper still had some strength left despite the shivers that wracked his body and the inability to keep food down, as well as him not quite managing to properly fall asleep, never for more than ten minutes or so and never too deeply, the pain or the fever shaking him conscious all too soon.

It was supposed to just be a simple contract. Out in the jungle, taking out some business rival of their boss, Mr. Saxton Hale, who’d invited him to the area under the pretense of a hunting trip to “make amends” between them. The hit itself was relatively easy, but extraction had taken a turn for the worse.

The team had consisted of Scout (playing the role of distraction), Sniper (who would be making the hit itself), Demo (to take down the building the target was in, to destroy evidence), and Pyro (to help with the evidence destruction and to be there as backup if something went pear-shaped).

But then when they were on their way out, Demo was delivered a shotgun round into the back, and they were forced to use almost all of their meager supply of medical fluid to try and get him walking again. And they’d managed it, and gotten out safely.

But Sniper, quietly during the worst of the chaos, had taken a bit of fragmentation to his leg. He stopped the bleeding, wrapped the wound. Assumed he would be fine until they could get to a supply cache and raid it for more medical supplies, or until they could get back to the base. All he’d need is some crutches until he got there. Nothing major.

And then it’d gotten infected.

Scout listened to the shaky, raspy in-and-out of Sniper’s breathing, the way it rattled around inside his chest far too much. Either he would survive the night and be well enough to travel by the next day, or he’d…

Or…

Scout rubbed over the back of Sniper’s hand with his thumb. To bring things around all the more, it wasn’t the most opportune time for part of the team (and by extension, probably all of the team) to find out that he and Sniper were… involved. There wasn’t really much excuse for the way Scout had been acting, with them being “best friends” only explaining so much. Somewhere around the point that Scout started holding Sniper’s hand and sitting at his bedside all hours of the day, the excuse (no matter how true) had kind of fallen apart.

Sniper jerked suddenly, pulled awake from his almost-sleep, and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments with obvious confusion, clearly trying to re-orient himself.

“Hey,” Scout said quietly, squeezing his hand once.

Sniper’s fingers twitched in what Scout sincerely hoped wasn’t Sniper’s best attempt at reciprocation. “Hey,” he replied, voice weak and raspy. He cleared his throat lightly, wincing at how raw it still was. Scout had almost needed to leave the room when Demo had taken the shards out. He really, really didn’t like listening to Sniper in so much pain. The changing of his bandages was easier, but only barely.

Scout didn’t look down at his leg. He just looked at Sniper’s face.

That wasn’t great either. His expression was all twisted up in a grimace, and he shifted his head slightly, clearly unwilling to do much else. “What time’s it?” he asked, voice a creak.

“Just after nine,” Scout lied, award that Sniper couldn’t see the clock very well from his position and his lack of glasses.

“How long was I out?”

“About an hour,” Scout lied.

That left Sniper to sigh, gritting his teeth. “I suppose Demo’s not back with painkillers yet?” he asked, hopeful.

“Not yet. Said he’d radio when he was on the way back,” Scout said.

A second sigh. “Damn.”

Scout watched a series of expressions flit across Sniper’s face as he shifted his weight minutely.

“Why did two of us have to get fucked up?” Scout asked, dropping his head to press his cheek into Sniper’s forearm. “Seriously. Why do we suck at our job?”

“It happens. Just bad luck is all,” Sniper said, hand twitching again in a weak attempt at a squeeze. “Can’t help bad luck, or bad intel.”

Scout looked at him quietly for a few moments. He turned his face down. “This isn’t what I wanted,” he said softly.

Sniper didn’t reply.

“I wanted to…” He drew shapes on Sniper’s hand with his thumb. “…I wanted to go and, and head out and sightsee when this mission was over. We were supposed to have a layover in New York, an’ you’ve never been on the East Coast. Not with me, at least.”

A weak attempt to squeeze his hand. Scout squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“And, I wanted to… one’a these days, maybe, we…” He needed to swallow back a lump in his throat. “You’ve never met my family, and my, I’ve got all these nieces an’ nephews and stuff, and hey, what kinda uncle would I be if I didn’t bring over a genuine Australian to meet them? A shitty one, that’s what.”

The slightest intake of breath. Scout didn’t look up. Couldn’t.

“And—I wanted to meet your folks too,” he said, feeling himself rambling but not caring enough to stop it. “See your house. All the dogs you were tellin’ me about. I’ve never been on a farm before, if you can believe that. Born-and-bred city boy, all that crap. Maybe I’d like it. I dunno.”

His eyes were burning. So was his throat.

“And—and I wanted to,” Scout tried, and his voice was rough, but so was Sniper’s, so it was probably okay. “I wanted to, travel with you. Go out and see stuff, maybe, when all this was over. It wasn’t supposed to… you weren’t supposed to, to get all messed up an’…”

His voice finally broke, and now he was the one gripping too-tight on the other one’s hand.

“It ain’t fair,” he choked. “It ain’t fair.”

“I know, Roo. I know,” Sniper said softly. A beat of pause. “Get up here. Hurts seein’ you all broken up and not bein’ able to hug you. C’mon. Breakin’ my heart, ‘ere.”

Scout only paused for a moment before he complied, moving to wrap his arms around Sniper, pulling him in close. Sniper gave a grunt of discomfort as he managed to force his own arms up around Scout despite protesting muscles, and they remained there for a good moment.

“Who says we can’t still do all that, aye?” Sniper asked after a moment. “C’mon now. I thought you were supposed to be the optimistic one. Can’t have you goin’ all grim on me now. Bad for morale.”

Scout pulled back enough to look at him, and Sniper winced as he forced his arm back around to cup his face.

“Go on then. Perk up,” he said, trying for a little smile. “I can’t look that bad, can I?”

Scout’s eyes were watering in earnest. His voice caught in his chest, grating against his ribcage. Sniper’s expression faltered.

“Really. What’s that look for?” he prompted.

Scout reached up to cup Sniper’s hand to his face, sniffling, furiously blinking back tears. “I just, I feel so fuckin’ useless,” he admitted. “You’re lyin’ here sick an’ hurtin’, and I—I can’t do anything. It’s killin’ me.”

Sniper gave him a little smile. “Hey, now. You’re doin’ plenty,” he corrected gently.

“Cryin’ like a baby isn’t helpful,” Scout said with a huff.

“Maybe not. But you’ve been here,” Sniper said, thumb rubbing over Scout’s cheek, “at my side, watchin’ out for me. Helps put me at ease, otherwise bein’ as helpless as I am, I’m sure I wouldn’t sleep a wink. And you’ve been holdin’ my hand, helpin’ keep me distracted from the pain. Telling me I’ll be okay. Not laughing at me for being such a useless lump. Or complaining about how bloody gross my leg looks, because I know it looks gross, I’ve seen an infected wound before, they’re nasty buggers.”

“Are you really tryin’ to comfort me right now?” Scout asked disbelievingly.

“A bit,” Sniper confirmed. He tilted his head, ever so slightly. “Roo. What I’m getting at is that… you, here? This helps me. It really does.”

Scout sniffled again. “But what can I do, to make you feel better? Other than that?”

Sniper’s face was pale, and shiny with sweat, but his eyes were surprisingly clear. “Just smile. I really need you to smile right now,” he said, voice wobbly.

Scout blinked at him.

Sniper took a breath, exhaled. “Scout, I’ve gotten hurt before—par for the course—and I’ve gotten pretty badly sick as well. But this is…” He had to take another breath. His voice was weak, shakier than Scout had perhaps ever heard it. “Roo, this is scary. I’m… I’m scared right now. I just need you to tell me it’s going to be okay. Just a little smile, that’s all I’m asking.”

Scout looked at him, swallowed hard. Leaned in and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. When he drew back, it was easy to bring a smile onto his face.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be okay. It’s gonna be alright,” he said, and managed to believe it, at least for a second, seeing the relief on Sniper’s face, the way the tension melted from his shoulders.

“I’m gonna be okay. It’s gonna be alright,” he repeated back.

It would be alright. It had to be.

[animlenet]

8 Cats Who Were Famous Before The Internet Was Invented

Just like dogs, it doesn’t take much for a cat to become famous nowadays, if you've got access to a camera and an honest understanding of how social media works. But within the past, cats didn’t get to play the piano on YouTube to travel viral. Here are a number of the simplest known cats in history, before history went digital:

Caterina, the cat who owned Edgar Allan Poe Writers and cats go together like pints of frozen dessert and spoons, so it’s no surprise that Edgar Allan Poe’s cat makes the list. While Poe wrote a terrifying (of course) tale called “The fisher,” his actual cat was a tortoiseshell, named Catterina. She reportedly perched on his shoulder as he sat right down to write, probably to offer him storytelling pointers. Caterina also attended Mrs. Poe, who was losing a battle with tuberculosis, by lying next to her to stay her company until the top. Catherine reportedly died shortly after Poe himself died. Perhaps she was a figment of Poe’s imagination, or, more likely, he was a figment of hers. Snowball, the cat who owned Hemingway 

Renowned writer Hemingway kept many cats throughout his life, but his first was an all-white kitten named Snowball gifted to him by a ship captain named Stanley Dexter. What made Snowball unusual is he was polydactyl, having six toes on his front paws rather than the standard five — cats with extra toes are considered lucky stumped. Snowball lived a pleasant happy life in sunny Key West, Florida.

Why he's so famous is that his many descendants still live at the Hemingway Home and Museum, and lots of them even have extra toes. And in 2017, all 54 of the present generation of Hemingway cats survived the wrath of Hurricane Irma, so I assume they’re lucky ashore, too. Morris, the cat who owned 9Lives cat chow Probably the foremost famous advertising cat within the world, Morris began because the spokes-person for Purina’s iconic pet food in typical Hollywood fashion — he was discovered by talent scouts. Adopted from a shelter, the “finicky” orange tiger-striped cat first appeared in print in 1968, and until 1978 was the foremost popular cat within the world.

When the first Morris died, a replacement Morris — also a rescue cat — took up the mantle as pitch-cat. There are other Morrises to follow since, as a beacon not just for pet food, but also pet adoption and rescue. the present Morris lives it up in l. a. , California. All Ball, the cat who researched Koko the Gorilla Koko the gorilla, the primary non-human to be ready to communicate in signing, had an easy request for Christmas in 1983: she wanted a kitten. Her research team tried giving her a stuffed toy but she wanted a true one. After much deliberation, they decided to let her adopt a kitten for her birthday in 1984. Koko chose one out of a litter, a male Manx kitten with no tail, and signed the cat’s name as All Ball.

Koko and every one Ball made headlines everywhere the planet as she took gentle care of him as if he were her baby. But it had been to not last; after just a year together, All Ball got out of the research building and was struck by a car. Koko was inconsolable, signing “bad sad” over and once again. While she eventually got more kittens, she never forgot All Ball. Room 8, the cat who visited the school Room 8 was an enormous gray tabby that wandered into Elysian Heights grade school in Southern California at some point in 1952. Named for his “homeroom,” he patrolled the grounds fastidiously; he came to high school a day during the year and through summer recess we assume he took a sabbatical to a aviary.

He became the school’s mascot and was beloved, subject of books and films and even a fashion spread in Look magazine. He finally retired over the Rainbow Bridge at 22 years old and was buried with honors at the famous l. a. Pet cemetery. Sam, the cat who sank the Bismarck This cat might not have polydactyl toes but he sure was lucky, though an equivalent can’t be said of his ships. His first assignment was on a famous vessel; unfortunately, it had been the Bismarck, a German battleship famous for A) being supposedly unsinkable and B) being sunk on its maiden voyage.

The cat was found floating on bits of the shipwreck by British Royal Navy and brought aboard and given the name Oscar (what his name was aboard the German ship is unknown). He then went on to sink two more ships within the same way and was renamed Unsinkable Sam. The Navy finally got wise and gave Sam to a sailor who had gone ashore, and as far as we all know, caused no more maritime disasters. Trim, the cat who discovered Australia Way back within the late 18th century, when sailing around “discovering” things was a career, Captain Flinders took his cat with him. Trim, a tuxedo, served on Flinders’ ship HMS Reliance then on HMS Investigator, which mapped the whole circumference of Australia between 1801 and 1803.

However, on his return to England, Captain Flinders was captured by the French, due to a touching war with Napoleon, and he and Trim were imprisoned on the island of Mauritius for a time. Flinders survived and was released; Trim, however, went missing and Flinders assumed he was eaten by another prisoner. There are statues of Flinders and his faithful companion Trim in both his English hometown and in several Australian cities. Tabby and Dixie, the cats who ruled the White House Tabby and Dixie were two kittens gifted to President Lincoln by his secretary of state William Seward in 1861, and that they became the primary official White Housepets. Although technically Tabby belonged to Lincoln’s son Tad, Tabby and Abe were fast friends.

Lincoln reportedly even fed the cats at the table during formal dinners, claiming Dixie was smarter than his entire cabinet. When a reporter asked Mary Todd Lincoln if the president had any hobbies, she replied: “Cats.”

[h4rin]

sorry that i keep posting once and then not posting anything else!! been in a bit of a slump lately. here’s soulmate!woojin!!!! sorry its late bb

prompt; hi, i just found your blog and i love your soulmate aus for stray kids members so i was just wondering what it'd be like having woojin as your soul mate...? word count ; 1420

There was never a time in your life when the symbols weren’t on your wrist.

Of course, they weren’t actually symbols, but at the time, your parents had thought they were. Hangul, they eventually learned, the Korean alphabet. It was a name; your soulmate’s. Kim Woojin. The three syllables stuck in your head no matter what you would do, always hovering in the back. Your future.

You did realize, however, you wouldn’t be able to find him in a country you didn’t know just based on their alphabet, so as soon as they were able to, your parents found a Korean tutor and enrolled you in classes. The language wasn’t difficult, especially considering how young you were, and you were able to absorb the information and retain it well. By the time you graduated high school, you would consider yourself fluent.

After high school, you decided to take a little bit of a break. Not wanting to lose the information, you kept it up as a hobby, reading books in Korean or webcomics or magazines, whatever you could find, but you didn’t continue with the lessons. You focused on what you wanted to do, realizing that up until then, you had really just focused on finding your soulmate.

You’d heard of people who’d completely sworn off soulmates, and although you didn’t go that far, you might as well have. Your friends, those who had found theirs as well as those who hadn’t, rarely stopped talking about them. The concept of soulmates wasn’t new, but it might as well have been. The excitement never really died, and it was a little bit alienating. Of course, the couples who’d found each other had interests outside of each other, but they didn’t like to do anything alone. They’d take painting classes together, learn Italian together, do anything and everything together.

Eventually, the idea of spending your life finding Woojin just...faded. It wasn’t in a bad way, you were open to finding him, but realizing that you might not have time to spend on your own afterwards...you didn’t know if you wanted that. You traveled throughout college, taking advantage of your university’s travelling abroad program, picking up bits of the languages as you did, but you avoided Korea.

During your senior year, you ended up in Japan. Tokyo, to be exact. The city was bustling with life, the university classes were great, just slightly challenging, and your classmates helped you whenever you stumbled over your Japanese. You managed to make friends with a few other exchange students, and the conversations flowed fairly easily. Another senior, a student from an Australian university, Chan, was probably the easiest to talk to. Having three languages in common made it easy to understand each other.

The two of you hung out often, occasionally with other students, occasionally one on one, but it was never awkward. At one point, the two of you were at the cafe Chan worked part-time at, discussing the grammatical differences and similarities between Korean and Japanese, when he suddenly looked just behind you, eyes lighting up. “Do you mind if I invite my friend over? He’s nice, I swear!” You nodded, not bothering to look behind you. “Woojin-ah!” he called out, voice echoing through the nearly-empty cafe. He waved his hand, signalling for him to come over.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, blood draining from your face. Ever since you’d decided that you didn’t want to waste your time finding your soulmate, anything that sounded even slightly like his name threw you off. You quickly regained your posture, and by the time he sat down next to Chan, everything seemed perfectly fine. He greeted you in slightly awkward Japanese, a Korean accent evident, and introduced himself.

“Do you speak Korean?” you asked after introducing yourself back, repeating the phrase in Korean after he gave a slightly confused look to Chan.

“Oh, yeah!” he responded in his native tongue. His brown eyes, peeking out through his black bangs, shone when he realized he could express himself that way. The conversation between the three of you flowed easily from there on out, going from classes, to missing home, to pets, to future job goals.

An hour or so later, Chan checked his phone and realized he was late for class. “Damnit,” he muttered, “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” And then he was gone.

The conversation didn’t even pause, however, and eventually the two of you got to talking about soulmates. You carefully covered your wrist, scared that his name printed on your skin might scared him off, and you couldn’t help but notice him keeping his wrist pointed inward. “I don’t know if I want to find mine, honestly,” you laughed. It seemed sort of ridiculous, even now, but you couldn’t help but be attached to the feelings you’d held for years. “I’m scared that once I find him, he’d tie me down. I’ve gotten attached to my freedom, y’know?” He nodded.

“I understand, I honestly feel the same way. There’s so much I want to do with my life, but I don’t know how easily I can achieve that if I have someone keeping me somewhere.” He slightly leaned in towards you as he spoke. “I’m kind of scared to find her, honestly.” He pulled his wrist closer to his chest, so that it was almost over his heart.

Eventually, however, the cafe needed to close. “Can I have your number?” Woojin asked timidly. “I liked talking to you today.” He beamed as he spoke. You nodded, handing your phone over to him as he did the same. “I’ll see you later?” he asked, to which you responded with an enthusiastic, “of course!”

About twenty minutes later, when you got back to your dorm and sat down, you got a text from Woojin ♡. “Did you make it home safely?” it simply read.

“Just got home,” you responded, “did you?” Not seeing each other face to face had no effect on how easily your conversations continued. By the time you realized you needed to go to bed, it was already two in the morning.

“Sweet dreams! ♡” he wished you before you passed out.

For the next two days, the two of you were almost constantly texting. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you couldn’t help but hope that he felt the same way. Even if he wasn’t your soulmate, you decided, you wanted to take a chance with him. You just didn’t know how to ask. Before you could take your thoughts further, your phone buzzed.

“Do you want to get some coffee after class today?” The simple text made you smile.

“Of course,” you responded, “my last class ends at one.”

“I’ll see you then!”

Your class seemed to last hours. By the time your lecturer dismissed you, you were sure your always-tapping leg would fall off. As soon as you were dismissed, you were out the door, backpack half on your shoulders, on your way to the small cafe. As you walked through the door, you felt your shoulders immediately relax, spotting Woojin, sipping on his coffee with a spare cup in front of him.

“(Y/N)!” he called, not worrying about the slightly disgruntled looks he got. “I ordered for you!” You smiled, making your way over. Your cup was still steaming, a refreshing break from the cold weather outside as you took a sip.

“Thank you,” you responded to Woojin finally. “I can pay you back -”

He cut you off with a hand shake. “No, I wanted to buy it for you!” He flashed a grin. “It’s no worries, really.” You felt a small smile spread across your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated. As you went to take another sip of your drink, the sleeve of your jacket fell down, exposing your wrist. Although you immediately pulled it back up, Woojin’s hand covered his mouth and his expression told you he’d been able to read the tattoo.

You stayed totally silent, setting your cup down and trying to figure out what he was feeling. “Woojin…?” you carefully asked. His expression melted immediately.

“Oh, thank God.” A warm smile spread across his face as he pulled the sleeve of his sweater down, revealing a tattoo of your name. “I was worried it would be another (Y/N), nobody’s ever really made me feel this way. I’m glad it’s you.” You reached across the table, grabbing his free hand.

“I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

[brynandchristopher]

On to the next

Greetings and Salutations!

I hope you are all enjoying the holidays and the Christmas cheer! This is the first time in my life we have been away from home this time of the year and it feels really strange - I miss it!!

The last time we posted we were in Danang, Vietnam. Where we spent a couple more days before heading on to Hoi An, just a 30 minute drive south down the coast. We were very lucky to have a great friend of ours, Allison, come visit us from Shanghai for a few days in Danang and Hoi An. Bryn and I first met Allison in Bali (which is also where Bryn and I met but you already probably know that). She was there teaching English as well and we became fast friends. Allison and I have actively stayed in touch and have met up in England, Nepal, and China prior to this trip in Vietnam. She’s been living in China for 3 years now but is planning on moving to the Danang/Hoi An area next year and the dates lined up for us to meet up and check it all out!

Hoi An was a really nice relaxing getaway. We stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast located on An Bang beach. It had been a couple of weeks since we had any really nice weather, nothing too inclement but for weeks it had been overcast - but the first couple of days in Hoi An we got lucky with a few awesome beach days and soaked up the sun. Our first night in Hoi An was unexpectedly wild. We went into town to explore some shops and get dinner and found out the Vietnam national soccer team was playing in the finals of the SEA games. We had noticed the build up throughout our trip as many people watched them make their way to the finals. We knew it was a big deal to the Vietnamese, but my goodness.. We took a lantern boat down the river that runs through town to the main drag of restaurants and bars where we found a place that had put up a sheet on the wall and was projecting the game. They ended up beating Indonesia 3-0 in a thrilling match. The aftermath was inanity, there were literal riots in the streets, the entire city seemed to be out in full force waving flags, chanting, singing, dancing and blowing horns. The streets were flooded  at a standstill with people and cars for hours and it took us nearly 3 hours before the roads were clear enough to get a taxi back to our hotel. The next evening we met up with a friend of my fathers from high school. He has lived in Vietnam for the last 3 years with his wife and their 3 year old daughter. The last time my father and he had seen each other was before I was born. He took us around to some cool local spots and told us about his life and what living in Asia as an expat is like. He was a really interesting person and we had a great time getting to hang out with a local! Their daughter was absolutely adorable and it was really fun to entertain her and make jokes while she shared lots of candy with us. :)

Our final day in Hoi An was spent relaxing at a spa. In Asia you can get various spa treatments/massages for ~10$ and seeing as we wouldn’t have that opportunity again for a while, we treated ourselves. I did a hot stone massage for the first time, it was really freaking hot, but awesome. Bryn got a coffee bean and honey body scrub and a manicure and Allison did some extravagant package deal. It was wonderful. The rest of the evening we just chilled out and played cards, got some dinner and drank wine from the local vineyard. The next morning we parted ways with Allison and flew to Saigon for the day. We had a a flight late that evening so we booked a cheap AirBnB with a pool and hung out in the sun and then went to see the new Jumanji movie before our flight. One last Bun Cha and bowl of Pho and we were saying goodbye to Vietnam. 

Bryn and I are cheap flight aficionados, we have some know-how on working the system and typically find great deals wherever we go, but going ultra-budget can pose problems. At the start of our trip we flew on China Eastern, the budget Chinese airline. Our flight from the US to Thailand was just over 200$, short layovers, good seats, crazy deal! However, right before our flight they changed the flight schedules in China and we were unable to make our connection so we had to hang out in Shanghai for a couple of days. Luckily, our friend Allison lives there and she we got to hang out with her and explore the city. We will flashback and include a few photos from our Shanghai trip in this post as well. Well.. that was not to be the last of our flight debacles.. When we were searching for flights, the flights from Vietnam to New Zealand were pretty damn expensive - this is the high season for tourism in New Zealand as it is the beginning of their summer, and with the holidays and such flights in December were very out of our price range. Except for this one date, we were baffled why the flights on December 13th were less than half the price than all of all the other flights but we counted ourselves lucky and locked it in. A few days later I came to realize that December 13th fell on a Friday.. We definitely got a real Friday the 13th experience... We went to the airport ~3 hours early for our flight and as we got through the check in line they informed us that we did not have the proper clearance to get on our flight to New Zealand. Since we had started traveling, New Zealand just implemented a new regulation that you have to pre-register your automatic visa on arrival - it seems silly requiring people to apply for something they are guaranteed to get but nonetheless, we were in a bit of a pickle. We had an hour or so before the counter closed to work it out and there were a couple other folks in the same boat as us. The approval process is only supposed to take 20-30 minutes so we applied but our application didn’t go through properly and the counter was about to close. We cajoled the people in Vietnam to at least let us board the first leg of our flight to Australia and figure it out on our long-layover there - luckily we had been approved for Australian visas a couple weeks prior and that was an option otherwise we would’ve be SOL. We barely made that flight as we had to wait in an insanely long immigration line and sprint through the airport - they closed the doors as soon as we stepped inside. We were able to call the New Zealand immigration department from Australia and re-apply and get it all expedited. We got to New Zealand as planned, but with a whole lot of added stress and 3 months wasted on our year-long visas in Australia. Could’ve been a lot worse but it will be a long time before I fly on Friday the 13th again. 

We have been in Auckland for 3 days now. Another friend of ours from Bali, Arnaud, has a downtown apartment in the city that was between tenants so we’ve been staying in a lovely 22nd story apartment in the heart of the city. The first morning we were here we headed across town to the weekly used car fair to begin our search for a van - which will be our means of room and transportation throughout our 3 months in New Zealand. At first we were a bit overwhelmed and disheartened - the vans on display were either way out of our price range, way too small for me to lay down comfortably, or most predominantly, being sold by a shady used-car salesman that clearly was just trying to do a quick flip. We left the fair to go get a lovely gas-station breakfast and decided to go back and give it one last lap before the day was out. In the far back corner, clearly having arrived late was an older guy from Vermont who charmed us with his stories of living out of the van in New Zealand and living on sailboats in New England. The van was a bit out of our price range but he was trying to get out of the city for the holidays quickly and after some relatively easy negotiating we got the price down in to our ballpark. We got it tested by a mechanic yesterday and he’s currently doing a small fix on a radiator tube, but if all goes well with that we will go to the post office tomorrow with a scary amount of cash in our pockets and buy our first car!! 

Today and tomorrow we are going to get prepared to head out on the road! We are starting by heading North of Auckland up to Cape Reinga. While I may be missing the Christmas season and cheer a bit, I live an incredibly exciting life and am super stoked and grateful to start out on this advanture. ;)

Hope all is well in your lives wherever you may be <3

Christopher and Bryn

[tylerschmeler27-blog]

The Advantages of Moving to New York

The Battle Over Moving to New York and How to Win It Sure, NYC is seen as the middle of the universe if you wish to succeed in a field like entertainment, fashion or company. The perfect way to appreciate NYC for the very long term is to ensure you get away to other place s for a couple days whenever it's possible. New York attracts a great deal of people from the United Kingdom. A whole lot of people quit New York under a year after moving. New York is really the most populous city in the usa, with a population of over 8,600,000 citizens, which makes it the most densely populated city in the usa. It is one of the safest big cities in the world, but don't be stupid. TimeOut New York has a wonderful collection of the greatest fall escapes. The Honest to Goodness Truth on Moving to New York You might even forget the city for a couple of hours. There's lots of other wonderful cities on earth. The city can feel as a noose if you keep in it too long. Most individuals think moving is hard, but most don't need to do it in nyc. New York isn't a city that provides a wealthy supply of space. It is home to many annual events and is full of landmarks, some that are famous all over the world. The entire state is perfect for foodies. If you're moving to another state, it is a great idea to comprehend the way the change will impact your financial plan. It is essential that you check to your new country of residence before you travel as you may want to apply to get a local driving license also. Lots of people rent apartments all their lives instead of buy because of the high price tag of purchasing. Life in New York provides plenty of possibilities. What's handiest for work, grad school, whatever they choose to do. If things get so hard you wish to move back, request help from loved ones and friends. If you're serious about moving abroad, you should receive expert advice on your choices to guarantee you continue to find the best return on your investments, both now and later on. Moving between boroughs may appear to be a daunting undertaking, however once you comply with the perfect guide, it is a fairly easy. What You Need to Do About Moving to New York Starting in the Next 9 Minutes Private car services are famous for up-charging their patrons, plus they usually do not accept charge cards. Because you're in operation for a while,'' he says, you are totally conscious of all of the problems your present location has. You might be able to grow your organization without moving in case you can increase the productivity of your present-day operation. Second you must choose a moving company that is the right one for you. australian expats in new york You should make money merely to tread water. Much like in Europe the price of living depends on where you're. Trust me, the expense of the experience is well well worth it. If, like many expats, you're planning to rent out your house in the united kingdom, you own a variety of decisions to make. If you have your house, you'll be subject to property tax based on the region in which you live and the size of the property you reside in. To find out more about renting out your house in the united kingdom please read our detailed article which will tell you all that you have to know. Purchasing a co-op is nothing like purchasing a house. In the end, if you choose to get an apartment or house in New York you will have to pay real estate transfer tax. Whether you're searching for a single, short-term apartment or moving your family into a new residence, now's a great time to rent and purchase. Buy pieces to fit your New York apartment after you arrive. What is Truly Going on with Moving to New York Do your research online, then devote a fantastic day going to unique neighborhoods you feel you could be interested to observe how you are feeling in each individual space,'' says LaMagna. If space beside your present operation gets vacant at a time whenever you're contemplating expanding, you might want to permit the person who owns the property know you may require more room soon. Moving is one method to receive room to expand, but it isn't the just one. If you're thinking of making the move from Canada here are a couple things to think about. Moving to the city might be somewhat challenging from time to time, but we will be present to serve your transportation requirements. Have a look at our list of the 15 things you need to know prior to making your move. Moving to New York for work is just one of the most typical reasons people decide to move.

[feathers-scales-and-tails]

Paralysis Ticks

So it’s summer in Australia and that means ticks! Many of us born in Australia are aware of these nasty buggers, however I was reminded today that people who move here often are not aware of the hazards of our ticks considering many ticks outside Australia are nothing more than blood sucking pests. Like most things in Australia though, we have a tick who is... special. 

This is the Paralysis Tick (Ixodes holocyclus) and is an incredibly common sight in Brisbane where I live. Here’s a map of their distribution (along with our other common, nicer ticks) below. 

Their favourite environment to live in is bushland and long grass, although they travel near and far into city and household through trusty transportation; bats, wallabies, and birds, along with others. They live  for one year with a 4 stage life cycle; egg, larvae, nymph, and adult. They can range in size from a pinhead to the nail on your thumb, the bigger the tick the longer it’s been attached and feeding. An adult tick can lay up to 3000 eggs and they take roughly 60 days to hatch! Hence why they spread like wildfire. Only the females attach and feed off hosts, while the male ticks will feed off the female, mate her, then die. 

If you haven’t guessed already from their name, these ticks cause paralysis! As they feed they inject neurotoxins into their host through saliva, causing a plethora of issues. Paralysis is rare within adults, however young children can suffer. Despite adults not suffering the paralysis, they still make us incredibly sick. Symptoms are similar to the Influenza Virus (the Flu) and there are a lot of symptoms you can suffer. These can include; rashes, diarrhea, vomiting, headache, fever, body aches and pains, lethargy, balance issues, intolerance to bright light, weak limbs, and finally issues with motor control particularly in the facial muscles and hands. They are incredibly nasty ticks. 

I’m not talking about human health today however, I’m making this post to talk about how they affect animals. Specifically our pets. 

Tick ‘season’ begins in September and progressively gets worse as our weather heats up; December and January which are in the peak of heat are the worst months. Ticks don’t stick to season though, it’s entirely possible to find them in winter! However it’s not nearly as common. During Tick season Vets are overrun with patients. Roughly 10,000 dogs are affected each year with a 5% fatality rate (500 animals). These ticks aren’t picky, they’ll commonly target; dogs, cats, birds, chickens, cattle, sheep, goats, rodents, snakes, lizards, and wildlife. Paralysis Ticks can and will kill all of the above animals if treatment is not provided. 

Animals usually start showing clinical symptoms 3-5 days after the tick has attached, it takes a while for the toxins to get into their system. This isn’t good though, as once the toxins are in and start causing noticeable issues you have a very short time frame to seek medical help. The most common symptoms within cats and dogs are; heavy and laboured breathing, excessive panting, coughing, vomiting, constant salivation and frothing at the mouth, wobbly and unsteady back legs, refusal to stand up and walk, full hind leg paralysis, and finally full body paralysis and loss of consciousness. It can take as little as 24 hours after you notice clinical symptoms for your pet to succumb to respiratory or heart failure. 

They sound like a nightmare, and trust me they are. If you discover your animal has a tick you need to book a Vet appointment immediately as without treatment they’ll likely die. Even if you remove the tick, the toxins can remain within the body for weeks. 

If you find a tick, it’s best to remove it straight away so no further toxins are injected. However refrain from squeezing the ticks body with tweezers or fingers!!! Squeezing the abdomen can cause the tick to regurgitate straight into your pet, releasing more toxins. There are special tools you can buy which twist the tick off, if not try and grab the tick by it’s head if it isn’t burrowed into your animal. Here is an example of the removal tool, and another of how to use it. 

If you don’t have this on hand, obviously have a go with tweezers. Just try your best to grab them as far down on their body as you can. 

Vet treatment wise, an antiserum to neutralise the toxin will be administered and the animal may require Intravenous fluids, oxygen and assistance breathing, and assisted urination and defecation if full paralysis has occurred. Never give your animal food or water if it’s paralysed by a tick, as your pet could inhale this into their lungs. Ticks cause respiratory failure, so without full control over their throat and chest muscles they may fail to block off their airway or swallow this food/water properly. It can take up to 9 days for a pet to recover, so your animal will either stay in vet care or will be cleared to go home with antibiotics and/or anti-nausea medication. 

The best way to avoid this heartache for your pets is obviously prevention. Below are some examples of ticks attached, keep in mind that these ticks are engorged so relatively easy to feel or spot. Newly attached ticks will be a pinhead bump, not the huge things you see here. First image is a tick attached to a dog, second is a blue tongue skink, third is a bird (I’m unsure of species). First image is an engorged Paralysis tick, second image are some non-full paralysis ticks, third image is not a paralysis tick (from my viewpoint anyway).

The most straightforward method of prevention is to check your animals regularly, particularly within Summer for ticks. You do this by feeling along your animal and pulling back their fur/feathers/wool to check any small bump or raise you might feel. Common areas of attachment is on the chest and neck, however ticks also like eyes, ears, belly, and around the anus. Check every inch of your pet, sometimes the pricks even go between toes. Here are common areas to check for different animals. Dogs and cats: under the collar, ears, eyes, mouth, belly, chest.  Birds: eyes, beaks and ears. Generally ticks like to attach in places a bird can’t reach so they can’t be pulled off. Armpits (under wings) and along the bottom are also favoured spots.  Reptiles: cloaca, armpits, ears, mouth, eyes.  Rodents: face, stomach, back, ears Sheep: udders, belly, armpits, ears, eyes, jaw/chin.  Cattle: everywhere. Just trust me. Everywhere

Obviously check over your entire animal, but those are the most common spots for each respective species if you’re short for time. Other methods of prevention include sprays and topline treatment. Cattle and sheep get sprayed down for ticks, while dogs and cats should receive regular preventative treatment often in the form of a spray on the back of their neck just like flea treatment. It’s also important to keep grass short on your property as ticks love living in this. Furthermore, don’t walk your dog through any long grass or bushland during summer if you can help it. 

I think that pretty much covers everything! It’s a lot of information but I figured the more the better use it would be to somebody wanting knowledge/help. To everybody living in Australia, or potentially visiting, stay safe and watch out for these ticks. I’ve had several myself and they are not fun! 

Here’s a chonky little Brushtail Possum for you! Fun Fact; Australian Possums and Bandicoots (along with some other species I’m forgetting now?) have built up a natural immunity to Paralysis ticks considering how frequently they’re exposed! They can still be affected, but are very unlikely to suffer paralysis from them. Brushies are my favourite so I had to share one. Chonky tree cats. 

[bestofbalinearme-blog]

I traveled the world for a year and a tiny city in Bali was the one place I can see myself returning to dozens of times

Harrison Jacobs        

A year ago, I left New York to travel the world. In that time,  I’ve visited over 20 countries and dozens of cities – everywhere  from China and Russia to Spain, Portugal, and Bulgaria. Each  place had its joys and its frustrations.

 In Tanzania, I experienced  some of the most beautiful nature in the world, but it was  extremely difficult to get to.  The azure waters of the Atlantic in Portugal were possibly  the most beautiful place I’ve ever gone swimming, but it came at  the price of milling through hordes of British tourists. And when  I visited Egypt, I got to fulfill my childhood dream of  seeing the Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the ancient Egyptian  temples, but I felt like I  had to always be on guard from getting cheated.

 As I look back now, while I can’t pinpoint my favorite  destination of the bunch, I do know which place I would like to  return to soonest: Ubud, Bali.

 Ubud is a place that could, on paper, be easy to make fun of.  While it has been known as a   spiritual and mystical center to Balinese for centuries – Ubud  means “medicine” – it has sprouted a community of New Agey  seekers and expats looking to live the good life over the last  few decades.

 On any given day, you’ll encounter digital nomads working on  startups, Westerners taking sabbaticals to join spiritual  retreats, Australians starting cafes or co-working spaces, and  locals living their life amidst it all. A significant percentage  of the people I met had been to Ubud two, three, or four times.  Many come every year and some have moved there permanently.

Foto: Ubud means “medicine.”sourceHarrison Jacobs/Business Insider

 When I was there last May, I attended a full-day spiritual  retreat that included yoga, “ecstatic dance,” a cacao ceremony,  and workshops of “authentic relating.” If you can get past the  privilege that comes with being able to take a few weeks off for  “self-improvement,” it’s kind of beautiful how many people come  to Ubud earnestly to work on themselves and improve their lives  at retreats like the one I attended.

 For my part, I was skeptical, scoffing at the retreat even as I  took part in it. But the more I let down my guard and met the  retreat on its own terms, the more I was rewarded. By the end of  the day, I felt like I had shaken off a long-held resentment,  cried twice, and made a few friends that I’m still keeping in  touch with today.

 That’s kind of the way it goes in Ubud. Someone suggests an  activity that sounds far out of your comfort zone and you just  shrug and go, “Why not?”

Foto: For outdoorsy folks, there are tons of gorgeous hikes.sourceHarrison Jacobs/Business Insider

 Best things to do in Ubud

 One of the joys of visiting Ubud is seeing how Indonesians, local  Balinese, and expats use the city as their canvas to create  unique places and experiences.

 One night while in Ubud, one of my newfound friends suggested we  go to Bali  Dacha, a Russian-style spa club built around a villa  estate in the jungle outskirts of Ubud. Set in what feels like a  giant treehouse, Bali Dacha has multiple saunas, steam rooms,  pools, and bonfires to hang in and around. The crowd is mostly  Russians (a dacha is a Russian cottage), with some Europeans,  Americans, and Aussies mixed in.

 When I visited, there was a dance party going on, but few people  were drinking. It’s one of those Ubud places where, at certain  points, say, when discussing the rise of global fascism by a  bonfire with a stranger, making dirty jokes in broken English  with a group of naked Russians in a sauna, or meeting a model in  a darkened pool, you ask yourself: Is this real? The blasting  psychedelic trance music and the Russian guy dancing with a   Native American headdress does nothing to clear up the confusion.

 Then there is the Yoga Barn, a popular  retreat center that offers comfortable, accessible classes   ranging from every kind of yoga discipline to sound healing. To  give you an idea of the kind of place Ubud is, the most difficult  place to get into isn’t a swanky nightclub, it’s the Yoga Barn.  During peak months, classes like “sound healing” can have lines  to get in that wrap around the block. I never took it, but every  person I met that had said the sound healing class was  “life-changing.”

 For outdoorsy folks, there are tons of gorgeous hikes, like the    Campuhan Ridge Walk, which takes you along a high  ridge between two rivers, or a night hike up Mount  Batur to  see one of the most spectacular sunrises in the world.

 For history buffs and spiritualists, there  are tons of temples spread across Ubud and the surrounding  areas. Some are in the central town, while others are hidden in  small towns, mountain valleys, and the jungle.

 One of my favorites to explore was the Sacred Monkey  Forest, a nature reserve housing hundreds of wild  monkeys. The gorgeous forest and temple complex have been home to  monkeys for hundreds of years, and the area is considered a holy  place on the island. When I went, I came within feet of dozens of  monkeys – and I saw monkeys actually land on top of other  visitors.

 Ubud is known as a paradise for vegans and raw food eaters, but  that mostly comes from the expats who have made the city their  home. The Balinese cook up fresh fish and Indonesian specialties  in warungs, or family-owned restaurants,  throughout the city. They’re worth sampling.

 Ubud travel tips: Avoid peak tourist season and eat local

 A word of warning to would-be visitors: Over-tourism is a major problem – the  number of annual tourists has jumped from  2.2 million in 1990 to 13.7 million last year – and the city  buckles from the weight of it in the peak summer months. The  traffic of thousands of mopeds and motorbikes chokes the city’s  jungle-lined streets to the point where it can take an hour to  move a few miles.

 Many foreigners are beginning  to work with locals in response to the over-tourism to build  sustainable tourism businesses.

 To mitigate the over-tourism  when I visited, I came during an off-peak month, stayed a short  motorbike ride outside the city in an adjacent suburb, and tried my best to eat and shop at the various local Balinese owned  eateries, cafes, and shops.

 An acquaintance of mine who  recently visited the city for a few weeks posted a sentiment on   Facebook that I feel perfectly captures Ubud: “It’s so easy to  get sucked into the Vortex of Ubud. To wonder if you ever need to  leave this place again. It feels like you don’t need to do  anything except for [sic] wander around just have nice  conversations with people about how to live a healthier, happier  life.”

 After the week in the city, I  was no longer questioning why the first thing a taxi driver just  outside the airport said to me was, “Welcome back. So, how many   times have you been to Bali?”