#and about some australians letting their kids wear dresses

[notsobeautifuldisaester]

If children aren’t old enough to know about their own bodies or FaVoRiTe CoLoR, maybe they’re not old enough to be dragged to a loud place to be lectured on how they must devote their life to an invisible sky dude because he sacrificed his son (who is also himself) or they’ll be BBQ’d for eternity after they die

[wileys-russo]

Kcc "ky,no,thats just for childs" shopping center

changed the wording up just a smidge for kidsII k.cooney cross

"babe are you done now?" you rolled your eyes at the whine from outside, fixing the top of the dress you were trying on and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"no! just sit patiently ky." you chuckled at the groan which followed, kyra slumping back down into the chair and tapping her feet, already bored of everything on her phone as her eyes roamed the store.

you'd warned her when you'd made the plans to go shopping that she shouldn't come, knowing how easily she got bored and detested shopping for the most part.

but kyra still insisted on accompanying you, though as she sat waiting in what felt like the 100th store she was starting to regret her decision. you had a family wedding coming up and needed to find something to wear, and kyra should have known you'd test out every possible option before deciding on anything.

"what do you think?" her attention snapped up as you stepped out of the change rooms, twirling as a smile settled on her lips. "i think you look gorgeous babe, just like you did in the last five." kyra complimented as you shot her a playful glare.

"i've got two more to try on and then we're done." you promised sending her a smile as she sighed in relief, tapping her lips as you rolled your eyes but pecked them anyway.

"good! i can't wait to go home." kyra sighed happily as you gave her a funny look. "done in this store baby, not done done." you corrected before pulling the change room curtains shut as your girlfriend let out a long and tired groan.

it was two hours later that kyra's thin veil of patience disappeared all together.

"kyra. two more stores! come on." you held your hand out and wiggled your fingers as she shook her head, rooted to the spot with her arms crossed and a scowl.

"you've already bought two options, pick one and lets go." kyra huffed, holding the car keys captive in her pocket as you shook your head. "i warned you i'd be awhile and you still insisted on coming, you're being a child!" you warned as the girl shrugged.

"alright, fine." she turned on heel as you exhaled and started to follow after her, not really having much of a choice since she also insisted on carrying your bag which had your phone and wallet in it.

"what are you doing?" you asked deadpan as she stopped and sat down on a childrens carousel, far too large for the small firetruck she somehow squeezed herself into.

"ky no, those are for kids." you warned as she shrugged unbothered, wiggling her way in until she was comfortable. "well if i'm acting like a child then its fine. you go shopping, i'll be here going around and around until you're done!" your girlfriend tapped her card to start the carousel as you stared in disbelief.

"you are unbelievable." you sighed, grabbing your bag off of her as she span past and held it out before walking off and leaving her behind.

but as she did with nearly everything, kyra eventually grew bored of the carousel, having rode it around and around for about half an hour still with no sign of you returning. but as the ride eventually came to a stop, kyra was met with yet another problem.

a grunt came from her mouth as she tried to pull herself out of the small firetruck but found she could only get one leg out, the other wedged inside as the australian let out a groan.

"kyra? ky!" the midfielder winced hearing some new voices call out her name, glancing over her shoulder to see charli and a couple of her spurs teammates making their way over.

quickly jumping back in to save face kyra plastered a smile on her face and waved as the girls arrived. "why are you sitting on a kids ride?" charli snickered as kyra shrugged.

"girlfriends shopping, we've been here since ten." kyra groaned as charli grinned, her friends excusing themselves to wander into a nearby jewelry store.

"let me guess, she told you not to come but you did anyway?" charli smiled knowingly as kyra rolled her eyes but her lack of answer was enough of an answer anyway.

"and, you're stuck. aren't you?" charli's smile widened as kyra stuttered trying to come up with an excuse but failing to do so hung her head. "yes." the brunette mumbled as charli's laugh echoed around and kyra reached out to smack her.

"shut up!" kyra warned with a huff, her best friends laughs dying down to chuckles as she stepped in to try and help, arms hooking under her elbows and trying to pull her out to no avail.

"charli?" the blonde glanced over her shoulder seeing you stood with a bag in hand and a confused look in her eyes. "kyras stuck!" the australian grinned gleefully as kyra groaned and punched her in the arm.

"didn't i tell you these were for kids?" you sighed, shaking your head in disappointment as you came closer, your girlfriend avoiding your gaze all together, apparently the only one who felt sorry for herself.

"right, you grab her knee, i'll grab her arms." you dropped your bag on the floor with the rest of them kyra had stayed with and sighed, you and charli moving positions and counting down.

nodding you both started to pull and tug at the midfielder, ignoring her constant overdramatic whines of pain, both of you telling her to shut up and reminding the only person who was really to blame was kyra herself.

eventually a few people had gathered, clearly catching onto what was happening as a couple of security guards were next to follow, charli's friends returning and watching on in amusement as you and charli stepped aside and the guards took over.

with their much larger forms and kyra falling silent at the manhandling, face burning red with embarrassment as you took a few photos, kyra's ears heating up as eventually she was freed and the small crowd clapped.

nodding her head at the stern warnings from centre management not to do anything like that again the crowd was dispersed and everyone went about their day, charli and her friends also heading off after teasing kyra who huffed and hung her head in shame.

"come on babe, lets go home." you grinned, tugging on your girlfriends hoodie as she wandered beside you with her arms crossed, having pulled her hood over her head as a means to try and disguise herself.

"careful, don't get stuck." you quipped teasingly as kyra slid into the car and shot you a glare, clicking her seatbelt in with a huff as you loaded your bags in the back and did the same.

"stop pouting! its your own fault you idiot." you laughed, leaning across the console to press a few kisses to the brunettes jutted out lips before shifting the car into drive.

"babe you sent the videos to the entire team!?"

[12-seconds-to-live]

Laniel.jpg and Charlotte

Pairing: DR3 x LN4 x F1 female driver

Warnings: none, just my happiness with Daniel and Lando

NICE AIRPORT - TERMINAL 1 @15:20

"You look cute today" I stop looking to my phone to look at Lando. Well, that's new

"You say it like it's weird of me using a dress"

"It is" He smiled

"I'm gonna ignore you from now on"

"It's not common, even when we go to parties you use jeans, so, I have a point"

"The real point here is that we are in the middle of the summer and if I put a raw egg on the floor it will cook"

"But what about the jet? It's going to be cold in there"

"I have my enchanté sweater" Lando made a loud gasp "It has cute peaches and it's purple"

"I sent you a full box of my merch last month, mean"

"Cry about it, Daniel thinks that I have a pretty face so everybody is going to see me in the new enchanté collection"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I asked him months ago, even I helped with the design of one of the pieces"

"Well, congratulations. You should look who's coming" I turn my head and a very smiley Daniel Ricciardo was walking to our direction

"You knew?"

"I invited him to flight with us, I know how important you were for him these moths away from racing so I..." I interrupted him with a hug and a kiss in the cheek

"You're the best, Norris" Lando didn't expect that reaction, now he can feel his cheeks burning

I got up and run to Daniel. After Silverstone, I decided to wait for Danny's test with Pirelli. After he finished a call from Helmut Marko was all we need to know that he got the seat for the rest of the season. Even if I have a good relationship with the australian, I organized a few days off with Lando, Max, Nyck, some frineds and myself to let Nyck know that we're his friends and friends support each other.

"It's been only a week, you know?" He said laughing

"I don't care, I'm happy. These past 7 months had been like going on a rollercoaster over and over again so, you know. Even if it's AlphaTauri, you have your way back home, you never left, you just have to travel the world over in search of what you need and then return to find it"

"I know Char and thank you for everything" His eyes got glossy so I hug him "Do you like my design?" He said ponting to his sweater

"No, it is..." I gasp

"Yes, kiddo. Tommorrow a million boys are going to see you wearing the new collection"

"Ha ha, funny, you know that I have my eyes on someone"

"Someone a bit brainless. Hey Lando, I guess you were waiting for me"

"Yeah, let's go"

Once in the airplane

"I have to say that this is a very important moment and pretty faces like yours should be able to broke the internet" I said taking Lando's camera and pinting to them "New wallpapers for your fans"

They looked at each other and start with their goofiness and well... I guess they really missed each other. Maybe Carlos and I have competition.

"We are pretty good looking guys, you know?" Daniel said with a smile on his face

"Even you could use us as your wallpaper" said Lando

"Good offer but nothing can beat my photo with Tom Holland" I said with a side smile and ready to take a nap before we arrive in Budapest

"When are you gonna tell her how you feel?" asked Daniel looking at Lando

"I don't know what are you talking about" he answer looking at the mirror

"Kids, always scared of love"

DRIVE TO SURVIVE EP.4 S.6 NICE GUYS ALWAYS COME BACK

"Hello Charlotte"

"Hi Netflix, can I have some tea? I been walking around doing interviews and stuff and I couldn't finish my lunch"

"Sure, mint?"

"Yes, please" I smile to the interviewer "We can't start, I'll wait for the tea"

"Ok, what were you doing when the news drop?"

"Oh, ha ha, I was with the main character. I can do anything, even work as emotional supporter, PR, car mechanic, you know" one member of the staff approached me with the cup of tea "Thank you"

"How do you feel about this?"

I made a pause thinking and trying not to burn my lips "I think that this a great moment to tell you what happen after Abu Dabi. Well, I sign my contract with McLaren, I was feeling bad about the decision, just for Danny and I spent the night with him and his girlfriend just talking and at some point we got more serious and I just told him and without knowing about Red Bull: What is a home if not the first place you learn yo run from?"

I smiled to the camera "Then he told me about the third driver offer and I felt different, by the time he leave in 2018 I guess that he felt that he was destroying everything and he just needed to slip quietly to the back door without causing to much noise and then not stop running. And maybe that was he needed more than what he really wanted, let go the feeling of wanted to go back and remember what you once had and what you once where "

"But then I told him that it's funny that the feeling of leave home and being far away make us wander our choices but for Danny is something else. He's back home and ready to no longer remember which tale of his past is true and which is an invention. Outside he's the same on the inside he's the same kid that leave Australia looking for a dream"

"I guess he's your favourite person between the drivers" asked the producer

"No, Daniel is my brother and I know he feels the same about me"

📍Budapest

Liked by charlotterjones, daniel3.jpg and 943.501 others

landonorris We’re photographers. We’re back.

📸: @charlotterjones

user1 ARE YOU KIDDING ME. STOP THIS CUTENESS

f1mia need a landan.jpg account plz

charlotterjones This is a piece of art ❤️

landonorris including the photographer danielricciardo our favourite girl

user2 "dude we’re getting the band back together״

user3 we missed daniel button --->

I got inspired! This little story is linked with my current story called (Un)Lost

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @evans-dejong @omgsuperstarg @bibissparkles @hoely-maria @mochimommy2002 @noope306 @eugene-emt-roe @80sloverry @rens-daylight @summerslike11 @matildrry

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 3)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (3)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan had a big smile on her face when she saw YFN. She pulled over at the front of her hotel and put the window down.

“Allo mate, need a lift?”

“I don’t have any money, sorry.”

Jordan opened her mouth in an amused and fake offended ‘O’. “You’re takin’ the mick.”

YFN laughed and slid into the passenger seat. “Do you charge by the hour or…?”

Jordan laughed loudly and slapped her arm. “Too expensive for you, mate.”

She began driving. YFN loved seeing this side of Jordan. The side that seemed much more natural, and much more of the Jordan that Lucy was describing last night.

“Wherrrrrre are we going?”

“I was thinking coffee and then shopping? Also, I’m assuming you don’t have any football gear to wear to the game tomorrow?”

“Hm, you are correct there.”

“Oh, Lucy is going to love seeing you in a Bronze jersey.”

YFN blushed and looked over, surprised.

“What? She loves seeing people in her jersey. Plus, you don’t know anybody else on the team, do you?”

“That’s a negative, and what number is she?”

“2.”

“Oh, my favourite. Okay, let’s get a Bronze jersey. Should we get the home or away kit?”

Jordan laughed. “Wow, look at you! Someone’s been doing their research!”

YFN grinned. “I love blue but the internet says something about it being a bad luck kit…?”

“Oh poppycock. Blue would be perfect with your eyes.”

YFN laughed. “Oh, and I also want an Australian flag.”

Although they only planned on a few hours, the two spent all day together. The atmosphere was great, they both bantered like they’d known each other for years. They wandered around town with iced drinks, stopped for breakfast, then lunch, and Jordan even taught her how to kick a soccer ball on an empty pitch, as well as teaching her some rules. YFN did try to incorporate some tackles to which Jordan gave her red cards for. They collected some free merchandise for the game from people in the club who Jordan knew and managed to find an Australian flag also. The day was fantastic, and of course they ended it on the beach with some fish and chips, Jordan making YFN try it with curry sauce. It confused the hell out of her, but she admitted it was decent.

The next day Jordan picked up YFN again early and they went for lunch. They had decided the day before that they wanted to catch up earlier before they headed to the game. At lunch, Jordan asked YFN about her job and what she did. She was a writer and loved to write fantasy. She’d been working for a newspaper before she left and had a very popular daily column with a lot of fans, but she left because she lost her passion for it. And so, she decided to travel to gain inspiration and get back into writing fantasy with the hope of publishing and travelling the world. Jordan was wowed by this and admitted to wishing she had the creativity for it. About five minutes later though, it seemed she had completely forgotten the conversation though, and had to ask again. YFN laughed, this had happened a few times with her the day before and so she lovingly gave Jordan the nickname ‘Dory’.

The seats for the game were in the perfect spot, just adjacent to where the team benches were. The two were dressed up, laughing at their awkwardness as they made their way down to their seats with arms of popcorn, hotdogs, and drinks. They reached their seats and were greeted by a loud man and his adorable family. YFN didn’t need a degree to figure out who it was. Jordan introduced him as Jorge Bronze, Lucy’s big brother, and his family. He gave Jordan a hug and kiss, and she picked up the kids and gave them kisses also. Jorge dragged YFN into a strong hug they took their seats next to them. It felt like a huge family affair and made YFNs heart swell with happiness. Her family life was not so joyful, and so this was a happy change. A few other friends came over to say hi to Jordan and she introduced them to YFN. They were friends, other football players, or partners of friends.

Shortly before the game, the teams ran out onto the field to warm up. The crowd seemed to yell extra loudly as Lucy came out onto the field, Jorge was the loudest of all. One kid in his arm and a drink in the other, he yelled at the top of his lungs “LUCYLUCY. LUCYLUCY.” Many people were yelling it like a chant, and Jorge recorded it for his social media. YFN couldn’t keep her eyes off of Lucy. She oozed confidence. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked a bit different without her glasses, but a good different. YFN bit her lip, thinking her football gear was a welcome sight. She couldn’t help but see the muscles through her clothes, particularly the thigh muscles when she walked. Lucy jogged around without a care, chewing gum and laughing with her teammates. At one point in time, she even sat on a football and just watched as the others warmed up.

“Hey Dory, what’s she doing?” YFN asked Jordan.

Jordan leaned into YFN to yell over the crowd. “Who? Lucy? Oh, her knee is really bad. Like really, really bad. She’s had a lot of surgeries and she’s always in pain. She just tries to keep off it before and after games really.”

As if Lucy had heard them, she looked up and caught sight of her group. Her eyes wandered along her family who were crazily waving until she reached Jordan and YFN. She grinned when she saw YFN wearing her jersey with that little dimpled smile on her face. It suited her, she thought. Being in the crowd with her family and friends, wearing a Bronze jersey, and holding an Australian flag with pride. She and Jordan had painted the flag on their cheeks also, fully supporting their friend. Lucy wanted nothing more than to walk over and talk to them, but she knew she was supposed to be warming up. She settled for a big childish wave and re-joined her team.

Ten minutes later they left the field, Lucy waving at her section and grinning from ear to ear as she left. Soon enough after, the crowd roared as the teams entered the stadium, holding hands with their mascots. Lucy was last in line, swinging arms with her little mascot. They stood for the national anthems and after a quick team photo, the game was underway. YFN couldn’t tell if she was just biased, but it was pretty obvious to her that Lucy was the most intelligent on the field. When she didn’t see an opening she liked, she passed the ball back to the defender next to her who Jordan said was “Millie Bright – acting Captain.” She pushed up the field hard during the first half of the game, and very nearly scoring on several occasions.

“Wow, Lucy is ON FIRE today! LUCYLUCY!” Jorge shouted. “THAT’S MY SISTER!”

“I haven’t seen her play this good is a while!” Jordan shouted in YFN’s ear.

A long shot came towards the goal and Lucy was sprinting from nowhere, her speed was incredible. She leapt, heading the ball and the goalkeeper tipped it. The ball hit the crossbar and bounced back into play. One of Lucy’s teammates were in the perfect position for the rebound and struck the ball, side-netting it. The crowd groaned loudly.

“COME ON LESS!” Jordan yelled encouragingly.

“COME ON RUSSO! WHY IS LUCY OUR BEST STRIKER!” A yell came from behind them in the crowd.

YFN was confused. Jordan saw her confusion. “Lucy is a defender, not a striker. Not even a midfielder. She shouldn’t be the most dangerous striker for us today but she’s just playing so well. The other girls aren’t doing well enough to be honest.”

That made sense to her. Lucy was compensating for her team. All of her discussions with Jordan the day before about Lucy being overly competitive and not liking to lose were becoming more obvious. YFN loved it and joined in on the shouting for England’s number 2.

The whistle blew to signal half time and the scores were still 0-0. During the break the pair took Lucy’s niece and nephew up to the bathroom and brought back more snacks for the Bronze family. They settled back down when YFN noticed that Jordan was tense and uncomfortably shifting.

“What’s the matter?” YFN asked.

Jordan leant over to talk in her ear, not loud enough that anyone else would hear it. “My ex is here. A few rows behind us. She waved at me.”

YFN pulled back with wide, worried eyes. “Oh Jordan, are you okay?”

“I don’t know. We’re still friends and I think she’s a lovely person, but I just feel so uncomfortable right now. She going to want to try and speak to me after this.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“She going to try and speak to me like everything’s normal when it’s not. I don’t think I have the capacity.”

YFN put her arm around Jordan and pulled her close. “You need to tell her that you need space. Because right now, even though you’re replying the bare minimum to her, it’s still coming across like you’re okay to casually chat to her when you know you need your space to heal.”

“You’re right.” She groaned. “I just don’t want to come across nasty at all. She’s such a good person.”

“Protect yourself first. Heal a bit. And only then can you try to have normal conversations with her, hm?”

The teams came back out then, and the second half began. Jordan’s mood picked up as she was lost again in the screaming, but unlike YFN, she was yelling their names.

Lucy played even better the second half, giving so many chances to her teammates to score. She went down, hard at one point, literally tumbling over like a gymnast and the crowd seemed to think this was normal.

“NEVER A GOOD GAME UNLESS LUCY IS FLYING!”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCYLUCY!”

“BRONZEYYYYY!”

She got back up and jogged back over to her spot a bit stiffly. YFN was in awe of her resilience. Eventually the 90 minutes were up and they were given +2 minutes. Just when all seemed like it was about to be over, Lucy scored. And it was beautiful. Just like last time she came sprinting from absolutely nowhere however this time she volleyed the ball into the net, hard. So hard the net must have broken. The stadium erupted, they all leapt to their feet screaming at the top of their lungs. Jordan and YFN grabbed each other, jumping up and down. Popcorn flew all around. Lucy was bombarded by her teammates leaping onto her. Looking up at the big screen, YFN could better see the massive grin spread across her face. Of course she scored.

“GOAL FOR ENGLAND NUMBER 2, LUCY BRONZE!”

The stadium erupted again.

Play resumed for the last 20 seconds, and the whistle ended the match to a stadium still cheering for Lucy.

Jorge was again filming on his phone, kid in one arm and phone in the other. “AW TOO BAD SO SAD.” He cackled as he filmed the other team. YFN laughed at the absurdity of it. She looked around at the packed stadium. It was all insane.

“AND YOUR PLAYER OF THE MATCH IS… LUCY BRONZE!”

Lucy received even more yelling and applauses. She shook hands with both teams and then was dragged into an interview on the pitch while her teammates signed autographs and gave out some of their match worn gear to the crowd. When Lucy finished the interview, she immediately hobbled over to her section and jumped up to lean over the barriers. Jorge and her family got to her first and pulled her into big hugs and kisses. They took some selfies and then Lucy moved over to grab Jordan into an all-encompassing hug.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jordan cried, tears welling. Lucy grinned and pulled back, looking at YFN and opening her arms cheekily. YFN laughed and wrapped her arms around her in a tight, warm hug. Of course, Lucy’s hugs were amazing.

“I’m sorry, I probably don’t smell the best right now.”

“You smell like success to me.” YFN kept holding tight for as long as Lucy was, though Lucy was doing the same. They both gave up eventually so as to not give any wrong impressions to photographers or the crowd around them.

“Nice jersey. Would you like me to sign it?”

“Depends, how much would it be worth?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and took a sharpie from her brother. She shifted YFN’s hair back gently to sign her jersey over her collarbone. She couldn’t help but notice YFNs perfume. The same perfume that was on her hoody when she had given it back a few days before. A shiver went up her spine as she tried to focus on writing neatly.

“Mine too please!” Jordan quipped. Lucy signed her jersey also.

“Oh, and this please!” YFN held up her Australian flag. Lucy grinned, rolling her eyes again and signed her flag. YFN couldn’t help but stare at her, the big grin taking over her face, her hair curling at the sides where she’d been sweating, and those big green eyes. They locked eyes for a moment but both broke contact almost immediately as it affected them both so intensely. No way would they be able to keep it normal in front of so many people. They felt each other shiver and saw each other smile. Nobody seemed to notice.

“I hear there’s a dinner party tonight!” Jorge almost yelled.

“Ohhhh yeah. Family and friends. I told them you’d all be there. You’re all coming, right?” She looked at Jordan a little worried, presumably because her ex would be there.

Jordan looked at YFN. “Stuff it. Yeah, we’ll be there.”

[chickensarentcheap]

3, 5, 14, 18,19, 20 for Tyler and Esme?

Thank you so much! <3

3. Do they wear each other's clothes?

Esme is notorious for poaching items from Tyler's side of the closet lol. His t-shirts, dress shirts, hoodies, nothing is off limits. And she is so tiny that everything is absolutely enormous on her. But she is his stuff is the most comfy and she'll never stop lol

5. Describe their cozy night in

Definitely pyjamas, all the snacks they hide from the kids, cuddling on the couch, and either a movie or some reality television

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? how do they clash?

Esme is very much an extrovert. She's very outgoing, very sunny personality, loves to meet people, very chatty. Tyler on the other hand is introvert. The 'strong, silent type' for the most part. He always says that when they attend events, parties, etc, he likes that he can just stand there and let her do all the talking and socializing. They clash in the morning: he's a morning grump who needs a cup of coffee with four shots of espresso and enjoys his silence, whereas she's very energetic and talks his ear off lol. They're also both phenomenally stubborn people. That causes some issues as neither wants to be the first to acknowledge defeat in a fight and apologize.

18. How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

Both love animals and in the main series, have many pets! They have two dogs (a german shepherd and an australian shepherd), a turtle, a few hamsters and a couple guinea pigs, a bearded dragon, four goats, a dozen chickens, and two pot bellied pigs :)

19, How do they feel about PDA?

Both are comfortable with it. Little kisses, hugs, holding hands, arms around each other

20. Choose one sing that perfectly describes their relationship:

I Found by Amber Run. It's actually the song that inspired the very first fic :D

[qnewslgbtiqa]

Australia Day: It's all the LGBT fault now

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/australia-day-its-all-the-lgbt-fault-now/

Australia Day: It's all the LGBT fault now

Blame quickly attaches to the LGBT community in the American-inspired culture wars seeping into Australian daily life. So quelle surprise that someone has found a way to credit us for the annual War on Australia Day crap.

BTW, lots of people would happily take credit. But no one banned anything. The soulless corporations that run the bulk of our supermarkets only GAF about one thing — profit. No moral imperative compelled any of them to stop stocking thongs bedecked with Australian flags. Peter Dutton and that antiquated radio performance artist on The Project can bang on all they like about boycotts and bans. It’s bullshit, and they know it.

Let’s meet Lisa

Anyway, introducing Lisa. Lisa has worked out that every retailer who ‘banned’ Australia Day merchandise, nevertheless sells Pride merch. And she manages to sneak in a crafty ‘think of the kiddies’ reference.

Hey Lisa, did you ever consider that maybe the Pride stuff sells?

Every single retailer that has banned the sale of Australia Day merch sells Pride merch. Every single one of them. Interestingly too, lots of it is directed at kids

Aldi – they stocked the children’s book ‘a boy in a dress’ Kmart – they have a full range of children’s family… pic.twitter.com/xZ9m3AHcFb

— Lisa (@Lisa9Sophia) January 13, 2024

Then, meet Leanne…

Leanne is all over X, telling everyone about her hubby working at a Woolies pub. He allegedly attended a staff meeting yesterday and was told not to wear Australia Day apparel on January 26.

Some people didn’t believe Leanne and disputed her assertion. But she became more insistent as the day wore on. By the end of the day, her husband managed the pub, and her son worked there too.

But just one big problem.

Woolies sold out of pubs in 2021. The supermarket giant retains a small, non-controlling interest and cannot instruct staff on anything.

It’s a big porky, but don’t upset Leanne. At the rate she’s going, the entire family down to third cousins four times removed will soon rely on jobs at the non-existent pub.

Among other things, Woolworths own exactly zero pubs https://t.co/5dDqRZ25L2

— Nathan Wind (@Dura_Ace) January 12, 2024

  For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[sweetsbfreex]

a styles vacation to Hawaii

Summary: a little continuation of this family. The styles take a vacation to Hawaii with mild bumps in the road. 

a/n: no warnings, but harry is not famous in this. I’ve never been to Hawaii and do not much of the hawaiian attire/culture, i just did research and put what i found. If there’s any misconceptions or if i’ve offended anyone by accident pls lmk!

Pairings: Dad, Husband!Harry

“Honey, you have to let go so we’re not late for the plane” Harry grunts, trying to stealthily pull Ava away from her hold on Milo. 

“No! We can’t leave Mimi” she cries out, cuddling her face into the pup’s fur even more. 

“Mimi has to stay with nan, honey” From his tone you can tell he’s losing patience.

It’s a definite eyesore. The whole situation takes place on your mother's porch. You were all meant to say your goodbyes before the three of you–– no Milo–– go off on a small vacation to Hawaii. 

Ava is holding on to the australian shepherd, not letting up one bit. You would think she glued herself onto him without anyone knowing, with how she latched on.

Milo in front of your mother's feet, enjoying what he thinks is a hug it seems. Only letting out long whines when Ava's sobs get out of control.

Harry is standing behind Ava, bent at the wait trying to pry her off her best friend.

You're crouched beside her, a hand on her back, trying to convince her to let go.

Ava's poor grandmother stands in the doorway. A look of agony on her face as she watches it all go down.

The–– now three year old–– has been throwing a hissy fit in the car, holding onto Milo's paw. Ever since Harry informed her how they were going to her nan's house to drop off Milo and then hurry to the plane. She saw the news like a terrible taste in her mouth, while she stared at you both in the rearview mirror eyes widened. 

You know how much the two love each other, but you didn't expect her to throw a fit like this.

“Ava I know you’re upset but, you gotta let go honey so Mimi can have fun with grandma. Don’t you want to go on the airplane, hm? Weren’t you excited about it?” You ask her, beginning to unclasp one hand and go for the other, trying to bring into your arms.

But with quickness, she remembered the only way she would be able to go on this vacation. Without Milo, she wraps her arms around Milo again. 

“Baby, Milo has to stay. Dog’s aren’t allowed in Hawaii” At this moment, Harry is willing to try anything.

“They’re not?” she asks, tilting her head back a little to see her father’s face. 

“Nope, Milo won’t have fun there. He’ll have more fun with Nana” he tells her, bringing his thumbs down to wipe away the tears. 

“...I wanna stay with Mimi!” 

Milo doesn’t eject this idea, letting his chin rest on her small shoulder. You and Harry huff in frustration, glancing at each other. Your mother...well she’s had enough of whatever foolishness you and H are pulling right now. 

“Okay enough of this” your mother starts, gaining everyone’s attention. “Ava, honeybee, Tell Milo and your grandma see you later and let go of him so you can have fun on your trip with your parents.” She says this with a stern, yet loving tone. Down to business and nothing else. 

“Yes nana” she mumbles, placing a few kisses to Milo’s cheek and glides to your mom. 

You and Harry look at each other in an instant, eyes wide at the way your mother fixed the problem in less than a minute. A mutual look of what the fuck, as in the what the fuck were you possibly doing wrong. 

“Thanks mum.” Harry says sheepish, looking at the calming little one swaying in your mother’s arms.  

“Yeah thanks mom” you say, standing up straight.

“No problem, Now get going, before she fusses again”

You all exchange your see you laters. Ava has yet another sweet moment with Milo. While Harry tells her she won't be staying in Hawaii forever and Milo won't stay with Nana forever. As you're driving away you all wave at the two, Ava yelling to Milo.

“Bye Mimi! See you soon! Don’t chase a squirrel when I’m gone!” She yells out the window, her arm waving in the wind. 

You and Harry share a chuckle. Despite what she may think, Milo has never chased a squirrel in his life. She's watched it once on a cartoon and it somehow filled her heard with the imaginary scenario. 

When both her grandmother and bestfriend are out of sight, she turns her head to the other window. A solemn look on her face, looking out the window like the Kermit the Frog meme. 

You play the Frozen 2 soundtrack for the less pouty girl behind you. But when you don't hear the shrill sound of her singing, you look behind you to see an upset look upon her cherub face. 

Her bottom lip is juts out, her hands fisted and arms crossed. 

“You okay?” you ask her, turning in your seat to cradle her knee. 

She’s dressed cutesy in a matching sweat set and a cute beanie rested over her plaits. 

“No. I’m upset and I wanna yell” she looks at you, resting her case, before she turns her head back to its original spot. 

Harry peeks at the interaction through the rear view mirror; an eyebrow quirked. One hand on the wheel while the other takes its natural spot in your lap, your fingers tangled with his. 

“Why are you upset?” you ask. 

“Because…” she groans, trying to figure out her ‘big feelings’. “You left Mimi and now he’ll hate me” 

“He won’t hate you, you’re his favorite person” 

“You guys don’t love me either!” She whines, glaring out the window. Wigging in her spot, causing your hand to fall from her knee. 

“That’s not true! We love you” you exclaim, in a loving manner. 

“Then get Mimi” 

“Mimi is staying with grandma Ava, enough.” Harry’s voice catches her attention immediately. “ It's okay to be upset but Hawaii doesn’t accept dogs, remember?” 

She only huffs, dropping her hands from her chest. 

“Can you play the when I am older song, please mommy?” she almost whispers.

You accept her request, turning so you’re seated right. Playing the song and hearing her sing eases your glazed stare a bit. Releasing a breath and closing your eyes as you rest your head against the window adds a bit to your release. 

Harry raises the entangled hands away from your lap, placing an adored kiss to the back of your hand. Sending a quick questioning look your way. 

“I’m fine” you send back, in a smile. No mother wants to hear those words.

He can’t do much with him driving and with Ava in the car. So he places a kiss to the back of your hand once more, and extends his hand so he caresses the back of your neck. 

“You’re doing a great job, stop being so hard on yourself” he encourages.

If your mom was here she’d give you a tip or two on how you and Harry are too soft on Ava. You couldn’t help leaving all the disciplining to Harry, you probably were definitely too soft on her at times.  

-

Through all the pouting, belting of kid songs, and Harry's annoying jokes and teasing. Five hours later you've made it to the resort. 

At the moment, Harry was checking you both in while you and Ava looked around the gift shop. When you feel someone’s arm come around your shoulder, you jump. But the feeling of his cold rings and brings you down. 

“Scared me, don’t do that” a breath of relief follows as you tilt your head back onto his shoulder. He gets the memo immediately, leaning down for a peck to the lips. 

“Made a friend in the lobby.” He tells you like nothing. Eyes shifting at his little girl looking through the stuffed animals and keychains.  

“Are you okay?” you ask in disbelief. 

“What?” he laughs, one eyebrow perched.

“Like in the head”

“I’m not following…”

“Why are you so good at making friends with strangers this easily? Seriously.” 

He laughs you off like it’s nothing, but it’s uncomic. You wish you could blame it on being shy, but compared to Harry it was not that easy for you to chat up strangers enough that you become acquaintances. 

Your husband could make friends with a duck if he wanted to. Everywhere you went. Whether in the ice cream shop a few miles away at home or the park where you took Ava all the time .He was always chatting with someone, in the end pulling you in. 

He only laughs it off, beyond doubt enjoying the look on your face. “We agreed to save each other a seat at the Luau tonight, for whoever gets there first. Talked to the husband actually, but you’ll see”

“You’re insane” you tease him.

“Can I have this?” A teal, stuffed sea turtle is thrusts in the direction of you and Harry. 

“How do we ask nicely” you say. 

“Can I get this?” she smiles, a smile so sweet, your tooth hurts from looking at it. She’s the most adorable thing and knows exactly how to use it to her advantage. 

“My sweet little baby.” Harry crooned, advancing to her, lifting her into his tattooed arms. Placing a series of kisses to her plump cheeks. She giggles, never wanting the affection to stop. “You can have it,” he tells her. “Let’s go to the till.”

“Harry you didn’t even check the price” you chimed in. 

“Shh. We’re having a moment” he acknowledged. He outstretches his arm, so his palm meets your face gently. You laugh into it, before you smack his wrist away, then placing a light kiss to his wrist when he whines.  

-

It’s some hours later. You’re all getting ready for the hotel’s hosted dinner/Luau tonight. The three of you took a two and a half hour nap. 

You were touching up your light makeup while Harry got Ava ready. He lost two rounds of rock-paper-scissors and now must deal with the havoc that is dressing Ava. 

“Baby, get the trousers mommy picked out for you” you Harey him tell Ava. 

“Trousers?” She says the word with confusion, “Don’t have trousers babe? That’s a silly word.” 

Then you hear the raspy laugh of Harry. 

“Your pants, get your pants and your top too” 

Not even a minute later do you hear Harry asking her to stop wiggling around. 

Harry walks in the bathroom, a giggling Ava sat on his hip. 

Harry adores a very laid back...dad look you could say. The back of the white wife beater he’s wearing get’s covered by a black button up shirt with flamingos patterned all over it. He’s also wearing  a pair of shorts and his favorite vans. 

Ava’s tucked into a set. a cami top with matching flared pants and sunflowers ornamented the black fabric. 

“Oooh look at mumma, beautiful huh?” he asks Ava, extending one hand towards you, once you clasp your hands in his, he spins you letting his eyes sink in.

“Yeah!”

“Thank you both” you smile as Harry tugs you in for a swift kiss. 

You had picked out an angelic, ivory crochet set. The top you’re wearing shows off your midriff and the long, flowy skirt matches with beautiful lace detailing. 

You turn to Ava to give her a kiss on her cheek. “You look so handsome.” you tell Harry, letting your hand run through his hair. “And you look so adorable, you like your outfit?” taking her from Harry’s hands. 

“Yeah, I like the flowers–– Can I have some too?” she points to the plethora of makeup products spread over the bathroom counter. 

Looking over at Harry for his confirmation, he nods. You take the brush running it over the blush, before brushing it over her chubby cheeks and her nose.

“Tickles,” she laughs, pushing your hand away. 

“Are you ladies ready to go?” 

-

“Wow! Look the fires!” She points at the lines of tiki torches submerged into the sand, jumping as she sits on your hip. 

The layout is stunning. There’s a stage for the performance, round tables spread out everywhere across the beach, and a buffet in the back. 

Most of the tables are already filled, albeit the show was to start in like twenty minutes. 

“There they are, over there” Harry indicated, his hand waving back at a family of four. 

With Harry’s hand settled on your back, he weaved the three of you to the table. 

“Hey Shawn.” Harry greeted, their hands clasped together as they brought each other in, clapping each other on the back. 

Shawn was a tall man, a few inches taller than Harry, and very built. He had amazing brown skin, clear like a mirror, and was bald––which he pulled off effortlessly. 

“This is my wife, y/n and my daughter Ava” he smiled at the two of you, while you shook hands with Shawn and asked Ava to say a hello. Which she did, like bursting a ball of energy as put her hands out for a handshake like she watched her parents do. It caused a laugh out of everyone. She didn’t know why they were laughing at her, but she enjoyed the attention. 

“This is my wife Avni” you hugged, as close as you could, with a petite, expecting Indian woman. She was radiant as she smiled at you and Harry. “These are my kids Grey and Aster” you shook hands with them both. 

Grey looked about Ava’s age, bouncy coils moving as he bobbed up and down in his seat. His sister, who looked in her tweens, sported the same hair texture. Aster more silent of the two sent her greetings kindly. 

“And the third is still cooking in here” he laughed, setting his hands down on Avni’s early protruding belly. 

With that joke, you understand exactly how the two of them got to know each other, as Harry joined in with his laugh. The wives chuckled amongst themselves. 

“How far along are you?” you solicited.

“Three and a half months” Avni smiled proudly, rubbing both hands around her belly. 

You cooed, “It’s amazing, you’re literally glowing. You're making me miss being pregnant” you joke. 

“Okay! Enough of that. One little devil is enough.” Harry tickles your side, as a result you jab his side with your elbow gently, as he grins down at you. “We’re gonna go get some food,” he informs the couple.

-

Now everyone’s sitting around the table anticipating for the show to start. Conversation running pretty smoothly. The four of you were even able to make a few plans for the week you are here for. You had gotten a high chair for Ava to sit and eat in, but she wasn’t having it. Failing around while reaching for you.

 In result, she’s now sitting in your lap, bouncing side to side. Munching on her French fries, chicken, and sipping on her pineapple juice. 

“Taste good?” Harry asks his toddler. 

“Mhm” she hums, shoving her thumb into his face. 

“I can tell” he chuckles, extending a napkin to wipe her face clean. 

You tilt your head down closer to hers, to see sauce around her mouth, some of it on her cheek even. 

“Daddy.”

“Hm, baby?”

“Mimi would like this, he loves the chicken mommy gives me” 

“You give Mimi your chicken?”

“No”

You both laugh it off, not seeing the point in correcting her. 

“Who’s Mimi”

“Mimi is our dog, he's big and he can talk!” Ava answered, her voice ringing with excitement. 

“Dog’s can’t talk!” The high-pitched voice of Grey argued, eye brows pitched together. 

“That’s a fib, Mimi talks to me all the time!” she defended. 

Thankfully,  the show was beginning, two young women and four young men came out on stage. Dressed in their traditional Hula attire. 

You and Avni shared a grateful smile, knowing neither of you would know how to suppress their little spiff. 

The dance is mesmerizing and it was nice with the sun almost setting as a background. Light hues of orange shaded the sea as the night took over the rest.  Everyone watched in awh, clapping when it was appropriate. The women’s skirt flowed amongst the air like water.  

Harry’s arm propps on the back of your chair. During the performance you feel his fingers run against the back of your neck. 

You turn your head towards, trying not to disturb the entranced little girl on your lap. “What?” you mouth. 

“It’s beautiful” he whispers to you. 

“I know” you tell him, smiling when he rolls his eyes at you. 

At some point in the show, the original dancers plus a few more stepped off the stage. An array of Lei’s on their arms, watching as they put Leis around their chosen person’s neck. During this time a woman walks behind Harry, setting one around his neck. 

You laugh at the shocked look on his face and the way he fixes his posture. She places a grip onto his arm, making him stand up so she could guide her to the rest of the others. Avni gets chosen too. 

The smile on your face makes your face hurt as you watch Harry “dance” up there. The man definitely didn’t have the bet rhythm but he’s having fun and you loved that. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!...” Ava cheered on her father, clapping her hands. Harry looks towards her, waving. She gets even more excited chanting his title louder. 

She's Not interrupting anything, you’re surprised he heard her in the first place. But also not, she always knew how to project her voice when needed. 

A little over a minute goes by when Ava raises her hand and keeps it up there until you’re able to flag down someone for a lei, which you both get. The both of you walk up to Harry and you set Ava on the ground. 

A slight circle forms as you three hold hands together. Just swaying. Sometimes letting go because Harry wanted to spin the two of you. It’s a beautiful image, you're sure. All the glee you could hold in your body transpires in the way you danced with them. 

When you’re walking back to your hotel room, your arms are hooked with Harry’s and your head rests on his shoulder. An almost asleep Ava in his arm. He stops to bring his free hand around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Thank you for giving me this, I love you” he whispers against your lips. 

-

Last night, after the dinner and the Hula, Ava had facetimed Nana. To be honest, she had wanted to say a goodnight to Milo, but talking to her grandmother was always a plus. She was still dressed in her outfit, you and Harry getting ready for the night, so you could then focus on her. 

She sat up against the headboard, Your giant phone–– compared to her hands–– held in her tiny ones.  You were looking through her duffle bag for her pyjamas when you heard…

“Look Mimi, I saved you chicken”, her small teeth bared, holding up a piece of her chicken from dinner. Your phone is now being propped up against a pillow. 

You looked up to watch her pull a piece of chicken from her...pant pocket. 

That was the point you reavulated yourself as a parent and had to think about what kind of kid you and Harry were possibly raising. 

“Harry!” you called for him.

He walked out, an eyebrow quirked.

“Look.” you hiss, voice low.

‘God…’ Harry thinks. “Where’d she get that chicken from?” he asks, running his towel over his hair. 

“Her pocket! Why are you so casual about this?”

“Angel...you had a baby with me, what’d you expect?” he questions, seriously questions you this.

“You’re fixing it then, Mr. mini-me”

-

Presently, you’re all at the beach. Three towels and three umbrellas lay in/on the sand. You’ve rubbed sunscreen on Ava twice now and have had to remind Harry three times. After last time there was no way you’d be rubbing aloe vera on him all night. 

“Baby you’re dripping it.” You sigh, reaching over to wipe her chin of the chocolate ice cream she was eating, from a cup you might add. “Do you want me to feed it to you?”

“No, thank you” she replies, kicking her feet out. 

You’ve all swam a bit, but now are on a mini break from the water and saw they were selling ice cream close by. 

It’s pretty quiet between the three of you, too busy enjoying your treat. 

She gasps, “Daddy you’re a fibber” Ava says indifferently, slurping even more of her ice cream from her spoon.

He guffaws, caught off guard from her statement. He shifts towards the two of you. The way the wind blows his hair and the sun makes the green in his eyes even brighter catches you off guard–– the sight of his abs doesn’t hurt either. 

You also knew it wouldn’t be long until his hair gained some highlights and his freckles would be more prompt. You couldn’t wait.

“How’m I a fibber, messy?” squinting down at her.

“Look!”she points, “There’s a puppy right there” 

There is, you turn your eyes to where her fingers point to see a woman walking a black Dachshund.

Harry turns his head towards him, a sad look on his face. “You’re right baby. I’m a fibber. I’m sorry”

Ava hurls from her seat to latch her arms around his neck, “It’s okay daddy, now Mimi can come next time” she tells him.

If there’s one thing about Ava, it’s how much she hates sadness. Unless it’s from her. Then it’s perfectly okay. She hates sadness so much, she particularly had a dislike for the character from Inside out. Until you had to explain to her how sadness is something that is okay and needed from time to time, Like in the movie.

After her round of affection towards Harry, she emplaces herself into his lap.

“Daddy. Mommy.”

You both hum an answer. 

“It looks like a hot dog” she eyes the dog while it trots down the sand. 

“It does huh?” Harry answers, brushing her flyaways back. All while you laugh into your palm.

Your hands feel tingly when you wrap it around Harry’s neck, pulling him into you. His head lays against your shoulder. 

Definitely a vacation to remember and cherish.

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[luminnara]

I wonder what Dick would be like trying to flirt on the lead up if the mission, trying to be smooth and cool before screaming next to Weasel. The back track of trying to be cool again after than freak out would be glorious and I would probably fall for it, lol

Dick Hertz x fem!reader

This ended up way longer than intended and I am not mad about that lol

Sfw but raunchy!

Requests for oneshots and HCs are open!

You were no stranger to the concept of the suicide squad.

Thanks to your own colorful past, and powers that you couldn’t always quite control at first, you were stuck serving out a long ass sentence at Belle Reve, the shittiest shit hole of them all. Your only escape from the mundane, high-security monotony was the occasional mission from Waller.

The Suicide Squad—more officially known as Task Force X—was the latest installment in Amanda Waller’s series of highly classified, top secret, black ops teams. She chose Belle Reve’s most infamous criminals, many of whom had extraordinary powers and even more extraordinary reputations, and tossed them together on incredibly dangerous missions. You knew she didn’t care whether you lived or died, but successfully completing such impossible tasks always cut time off your sentence, and with nothing else to do with your time, you always thought it was worth the risk.

And besides...you hadn’t died yet.

So when Waller approached you during your daily yard time, you already knew what to expect.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed her into the exam room and plopped down in the same old chair. “I know the drill. I go off mission, you blow my brains out.”

“—with the explosive device implanted in the base of your skull. Correct.” Waller said, unimpressed.

“And what, you have to give me a fresh one?” You raised an eyebrow as the doctor made you lean forward. “Lose the button for the last one or something? Or are you afraid that just one won’t do the job?”

Waller looked even less impressed. “I suggest you put a lid on that attitude today.”

“Why?” You winced at the feeling of a thick needle pushing into the back of your neck. “Jesus, fuck! Seriously, how many little bombs do I need in my head?”

“Good luck, puppy.” The doctor sneered as you stood up to follow Waller back out into the corridor.

“This is a black ops mission.” She continued with her usual spiel. “Your commanding officer is Colonel Rick Flag.”

You gasped. “The Colonel Rick Flag?”

She turned to glance at you.

“I have no idea who that is.”

You could hear her sigh in exasperation. “Suit up and go outside to the transport. You’ll meet the rest of the team and fly out to Corto Maltese.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Yeah, the Suicide Squad was a nice distraction from your shitty everyday life...but putting your ass on the line for someone who didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died, and who was always hovering above the button that would splatter your brains all over the wall, wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

Waller waited as you ducked into a room to change. There was a black box waiting for you, and upon opening it, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your old gear. The dark gray leather suit fit like a glove, and your gun had been cleaned and polished after your last mission, the painfully bright fluorescent lights reflecting off of the barrel with a gleam. You grabbed your gloves and strapped your ammo belts on before buckling a gray carbon fiber mask on.

Wearing your own stuff always lifted your spirits. It was the suit you’d been arrested in a few years ago back in Metropolis, and after seizing it, the feds had been nice enough to give it some upgrades with newer tech. Anything to make you a better government-sanctioned killing machine, you guessed, and it’s not like you were gonna turn it down. After all, killing was how you ended up in Belle Reve in the first place, and it was one of the only things you were good at...it just made sense for Waller to want to put your near-inhuman skills to good use.

You walked out to join her again, lugging a canvas bag of equipment and supplies along behind you.

“Pick that up and carry it correctly.” She snapped as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Why don’t you eat my—“

You interrupted yourself by groaning at the bright sunlight as it hit your eyes, raising a hand to shield your face as you managed to spot an armored truck waiting for you.

“You’ll have a lot of new teammates.” Waller called after you. “Be on your best behavior. I’m not responsible for anything they do to you.”

“Probably just a bunch of old farts like always!” You yelled back as you jumped up into the back of the vehicle.

Two guards sat down on either side of you as you got yourself settled in. There was another woman already waiting, her skin orange, her hair in a high ponytail that seemed to be pulled through the top of her helmet. She was regarding you with very little interest, and that was absolutely fine with you. You had a few friends within the Belle Reve prison complex, and you weren’t necessarily looking for more.

The ride was short and uneventful. You passed through a few gates that took forever to open, waited for a few security checks, the usual shit. When the truck came to a halt and you hopped out again, you were at a small airbase hosting a few hangars for planes and helicopters, one of the latter already sitting outside. Guards from Belle Reve were lining the circle of armored vehicles, and as yours joined them and the back doors were opened once more, you grimaced at the bright sunlight.

“Afraid of a little sun?” The orange woman laughed, baring her teeth at you.

“Hurts my eyes,” you mumbled, jumping down after her.

You landed on pavement, looking down at your feet in an attempt to avoid the oncoming headache you knew was imminent. When your shoulder rammed into someone, though, you had to look up anyway.

What you saw wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

A good looking blond guy was looking down at you, a cocky grin on his face. “Whoa, didn’t realize we were getting a babe this time!”

You glared at him, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of your face.

He couldn’t see you blush that way.

“Little girl’s got some ammo, huh?” He reached for one of the belts strapped across your chest,

Your hand flew up to grab his wrist and you held him in a Vice-like grip, your glare more pointed now. “Touch me, and you can see some of it from behind your eyeballs.”

Blondie whistled lowly, relaxing his arm. “You’re tough, huh? I like that in a girl.”

You dropped his wrist and rolled your eyes. “Still gonna like it when I’m ripping your balls off?”

You could swear he was swooning on his feet. “Baby, you are a goddamn tease...”

“Oy, Dickhead!” An Australian voice rang out, “back off!”

His grin faltered for a moment, obvious disappointment flashing over his face. “Oh. Got a man already. Damn.”

“Who, Boomer?” You grinned, unclipping your mask as you turned to wave at one of your only friends. “Nah, I’d never fuck that wanker.”

“I heard that!” The gold-toothed Aussie yelled.

You let out a loud laugh as you looked back to blondie.

You were caught off guard by the actual, genuine look on his face. He was admiring your smile now that your mask was off, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second longer than they should have. He was trying to be smooth, you could tell, and most people wouldn’t have noticed something so slight...but you were an assassin working your way through a couple life sentences, and you weren’t most people.

It all only lasted a moment before the cocky grin was back. “So, after this, you wanna come back to my cell, maybe we could, you know...” he waggled his eyebrows at you, making a hip thrusting motion you almost couldn’t believe a grown criminal was making.

“Maybe focus on not dying first, slim.” You patted his chest before turning towards Boomer, leaving blondie to stare after you—or more precisely, your ass—with a dramatic, longing look.

Your friend was regarding you with an amused expression. “Flirtin’ on the job? Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Shut up.” You punched his arm a little too hard and he winced. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“Dick,” Boomer said, rubbing his arm.

“Don’t call me a dick—“

“No, dumbass, that’s his name. Richard Hertz.”

“...very funny, Boomer, but there’s no fucking way his parents named their kid Dick Hertz.”

Boomer shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. Either way, it’s the truth.”

You scoffed and stole a glance over at your new admirer. He was tall and pretty well built, platinum blond hair short, lips pulled back in a grin that showed off straight white teeth. He was dressed in all black, two guns holstered to his chest, and as he messed with a Belle Reve guard by pretending to reach for one, he looked like an overgrown child who should not have been allowed to hold onto firearms.

“Please tell me he’s got a cooler name,” you groaned.

“Why? So you can scream it at night?” Boomer cackled. “He goes by Blackguard. He’s pretty strong from what I hear. Prolly pretty fun in bed, too.”

You wrinkled your nose and rounded on Boomer. “Shut up.”

“You like him.” Your friend grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just remember to name your kid after good ol’ Uncle Boomer.”

You gave him a rough shove and he stumbled back a few steps, laughing like a madman the entire time.

“Hey!” One of the guards barked at you.

Rather than pushing your luck with your armed babysitters, you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. More cars were pulling up, dropping off the rest of your comrades, and while Boomer was distracted with them, you stole another glance at Dick.

He was still messing with the same guard, and was receiving some harsh warning glares in the process. Was he a complete idiot, or was he so cocky because he could actually handle it? He had to have ended up in Belle Reve for a reason. It wasn’t the type of place you went to for innocent misdemeanors. And if he was chosen for a Suicide Squad mission, that meant that his sentence was long enough to warrant risking his life to lessen it...and it also meant that he was useful.

When he winked at you, you realized with a start that he had totally noticed the way you were checking him out.

Fuck.

“Time to load up!” A voice yelled, saving you from any further embarrassment.

A few minutes later, you were strapping yourself into your seat on the chopper, pretending not to notice as Dick struggled with his seatbelt across from you. The guy sitting next to him had to help, and when you finally couldn’t help yourself, you let out a quiet laugh from behind your mask.

Dick’s head shot up to look at you, that cocky grin plastered to his face again.

“Wish you were over here helpin’ me,” he said bravely. “Rather have your hands down by my—“

“Dick.” Colonel Flag warned as he stood above you all with his gun in his hands.

Boomer let out a loud laugh at the unintentionally dirty euphemism and you snorted.

“What? Just makin’ some conversation,” Blackguard said, leaning towards you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “You don’t mind, do ya, Princess?”

Your cheeks were heating up behind your mask, and he could see the way your eyes crinkled slightly with your smile.

God, he wished he could see your smile again.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice said. “Had to go number two.”

“...Good to know.” Flag sighed as none other than Harley Quinn herself hopped in.

“Harley!” You called, reaching for her with grabby hands as she looked for her seat.

“Hey there, baby!” The pale blonde woman greeted, slamming her equipment bag into Savant’s head. “Hey, Boomer!”

“What’re you doin’ back in prison, Harls?” Boomer asked, hanging onto the nylon mesh cage behind him as he stretched his arms out.

“Got road rage. In a bank.” She finally found a spot between you and Javelin, and as Flag checked everyone over, the chopper took off into the air.

The lighting was dim and red, the thrumming of the helicopter blades blending in with the white noise of the pressurized cabin. Save for that, it was quiet for a while, everybody either sizing each other up, or, in Dick’s case, imagining how you looked under your suit.

“So, uh...how much longer you in for?” He asked you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I don’t exactly think I should be talkin’ about sneakin’ into your cell while Flag is here to rat me out about it,” Dick grinned.

You caught the colonel rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that never stopped anybody,” Harley said brightly.

“Boutta be in a whole big ass jungle,” Boomer elbowed you in the side. “Plentya room in there to be alone.”

You groaned as Dick gave you a sly grin.

“Y’know, this mission’ll be over in no time.” He said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “I’ve got some wicked ass powers. I got this.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, recognizing the way he was trying to peacock and impress you. “Not worried about anything?”

“Baby, I’ll carry this whole team. Just you watch.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Dick.” You bit his name out as more of an insult, but he didn’t seem to care, giving you another wink.

He obviously thought that his flirting and posturing was working...but you were pretty sure he was just annoying. Cute, but annoying. Maybe good for a hook up here or there...but that was about it.

“We’re in a butcher’s freezer, Harls!” Boomer called from the other end of the bench. “Surrounded by dead hogs hangin’ on hooks. Only they don’t know it yet.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Boomer!” She called back with a laugh.

You chuckled at your friends, leaning your head back as you settled in for the flight. Harley was complimenting Javelin’s accent, you still didn’t know what TDK stood for, and Boomer was just starting to mess with him about the fact that all names were made of letters when the freaky weasel-thing next to Dick stole everyone’s attention.

It was one of the strangest creatures you had ever seen. Human height, covered in mangy brown fur, with big bulging eyes and a mouth full of sharp little teeth all made it both fascinating and concerning to look at, and as it made a few disgustingly wet retching sounds, Dick nodded towards it.

“Yo, is this a dog?” He asked.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no way he meant it.

“Is this thing a dog?” He repeated.

“A...a dog?”

“Yes.”

“What...what kinda dog do you think it is, mate?” Boomer asked.

“I dunno, I’m not familiar with all the breeds.” Dick gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m gonna go with Afghan hound.” TDK said.

“Since when does an afghan hound have bloody thumbs?”

“Oh my god, is it a werewolf?” Harley asked excitedly. “I’ve wanted to meet a werewolf for ever!”

Dick was already up and struggling against his restraints. “Yo, they sat me next to a werewolf?!”

“That’s not right,” TDK agreed as his neighbor slammed into him in his desperate attempt at an escape.

Boomer was laughing loudly, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re seriously scared of werewolves?”

Dick glanced up at you as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yes, I fuckin’ am! So fuckin’—get me out! I do not fuck with werewolves, there is no fuckin’ way—“

“Maybe you should hop onto your new girlfriend’s lap!” Boomer cackled, jabbing a finger towards you.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, and as you saw the look in Blackguard’s eyes, you were pretty convinced that he was about to try to tear his way out so that he actually could.

“Hey, hey, he’s not a werewolf!” Flag yelled over the commotion. “He’s a weasel, he’s harmless! I mean, he’s not harmless, he’s killed 27 children, but I—I think we got him to—I think he’s agreed to this, so relax.”

“Thought you were super tough?” You asked as Dick calmed down and caught his breath. “Gonna carry the whole team?”

Rather than the snarky flirtation you expected, he actually looked a bit defeated. When you raised an eyebrow, though, he took the prompt, and the most desperate backtracking you had ever seen began.

“Yeah, well...” he scoffed, trying to give you a cool look. “Caught me off guard, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Off guard? Isn’t guard, like, in your name?” You teased, your smile genuine behind your mask. Alright...he was winning you over now. He was an idiot, but...maybe he was a lovable one.

He faltered for a second. “I-I mean, yeah, well...”

Flag was shaking his head. “Get into position to drop!”

Everyone unbuckled themselves and collected their things, lining up to jump into the ocean off the coast of Corto Maltese. When you saw that Dick was back to struggling with it, again, you smiled to yourself and leaned down in front of him.

“For what it’s worth...” you said as you pulled up on the metal tab, your hand dangerously close to his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind shacking up somewhere in the jungle with you.”

He stated at you with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He really was cuter when he wasn’t putting on such a dumb, cocky facade, and he jumped up as quickly as he could to follow you.

You just laughed as you straightened up and walked away, Blackguard right on your heels. As the door opened and the big, dark ocean came into view below you, you felt a hand brushing against your hip and a firm chest press up against your back. You realized you could have stayed right there forever, patiently waiting to see how far he was brave enough to go...but you were both members of the Suicide Squad, and you had a job to do.

“I’ll see you down there, Dick,” you said, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“See you on the other side, baby,” he grinned.

[blackacre13]

Cate and Julia Roberts seem to pals in real life so what if Lou and Tess get along really well to the point of making Debbie jealous and Tess sees it as an opportunity to make Debbie admit she wants to be more than con partners with Lou

“You know, every time I head over there to listen to Danny’s newest pitch, I think, god, Danny couldn’t be more of a jerk if he tried,” Debbie sighed as she walked into the apartment, throwing her peacoat on the poker table. “And then, he outdoes himself.”

Debbie looked down at her blouse, fingers toying with the top button.

“Careful before you strip down in the living room, love,” Lou smirked, her blue eyes twinkling. “We’ve got company.”

“And before you insult my husband again,” a familiar voice teased. “Your sister-in-law is the company.”

Debbie let out a sheepish grin as she blushed. “Hey, Tess. Look, I’m sorry. I just—“

“Are you kidding?” Tess snorted. “You’re in good company. We all know what a jerk Danny can be, especially when it comes to sharing. But it is my duty to defend his honor and all,” she grinned, flashing her diamond at the brunette.

“So, I take it we’re not doing the job?” Lou asked, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, we’re doing it,” Debbie smirked. “We’re just doing it my way.”

“You stole his watch again, didn’t you?” Lou beamed, proud of her partner.

“Of course,” Debbie glowed, sitting down in Lou’s favorite armchair as she surveyed the two women on the couch. “What have you two been up to?”

“Oh you know the usual,” Tess laughed, waving her hand around. “A little making out, painted each other’s nails, baked some cookies together.” She elbowed Lou’s side with a wicked grin as the blonde let out a stream of giggles that Debbie rarely saw.

“Lou doesn’t wear nail polish,” Debbie grumbled, rolling her eyes.

“But the making out and cookie baking is alright with you?” Tess winked. “Alright, Lou. You heard the lady. Duly noted.”

“Actually,” the Australian chuckled, standing up. “Tess and I were waiting for you to get back so we could grab something to eat. You up for dinner? Your pick.”

“Sounds good,” Debbie decided, stretching out her legs and flexing her feet. “Just give me a few to change. Don’t want to go out like this.”

“You look fine,” Lou promised, brushing it off.

“Well, if I only look fine then it definitely isn’t good enough,” Debbie sang, sending Lou a wink.

“Take your time, honey,” Lou laughed. “Was just about to head out for a cigarette anyway.”

“I’ll go with you, Deb,” Tess offered, her eyes flickering between the blonde and brunette trying to assess something Debbie didn’t quite understand.

“You ladies take your time,” Lou spoke, headed towards the sliding door as her boots clicked across the floor. “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready. Can one of you just grab my blazer off my bed?”

“Of course, baby,” Debbie nodded before headed to her room, Tess close on her tail.

She closed the door, headed for her closet as Tess flopped down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Don’t know what you’re thinking for dinner, but if we’re going fancier, you’ll definitely have to let me borrow a dress or something,” Tess called from the bed as Debbie rummaged through the closet with a hum.

“I’ll bring out some options for you,” Debbie nodded, pushing through the hangers to find her black dress Lou liked.

“So how long have you two been a thing?” Tess called, making Debbie stop in her tracks as she held the dress gingerly between two fingers, wondering what Tess meant.

“Who two?” Debbie laughed, sticking her head out of the closet.

“Honey? Baby? Love?” Tess quipped. “Practically ready to strip down naked the second you walked through the door.”

“I was too hot in that blouse,” Debbie sighed, throwing the dress onto the bed. She unbuttoned the blouse in question, stepping out of her slacks, standing near the bed as she considered her jewelry box for a moment.

“That wasn’t my question,” Tess pointed out, absolutely amused. She sat up slowly, shaking out her auburn hair before studying Debbie as she looked at her own reflection as she switched her earrings out.

“And I repeat, who?” Debbie rolled her eyes, even though her cheeks were burning. She knew exactly who Tess meant. Lou.

“Lou,” Tess whispered softly. “You’re not together?”

“Of course not,” Debbie spat, almost too quickly. Too defensive.

“Well, why not?” Tess laughed, standing as she walked towards Debbie’s closet to peruse on her own. She held up a merlot dress that Debbie hadn’t even ever remembered wearing and waited for Debbie’s nod of approval before shimmying down to her own underclothes and slipping on the dress. “Zip me up?”

Debbie paced over to her sister-in-law, trying to not let her mind or heart race too much as she repeated Tess’s question over again in her head. How many times had she asked herself that question. Why wasn’t she with Lou? Wasn’t it the most obvious thing in the world that they wanted to be together? Or was she making things up in her head? If Tess had seen it, then surely…

The brunette’s careful fingers moved the zipper up slowly before closing the hook and eye in place. She pat Tess’s shoulder to tell her she was done. Debbie could feel Tess’s observant eyes on her once more as she slipped into her own dress, already zipping it before Tess could offer. She was used to doing things alone.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” Debbie shrugged as Tess choked down a laugh. They both knew her dating history consisted 90% of fellow cons and criminals. But maybe that was part of the problem. “And besides, I don’t see Lou that way.”

“No?” Tess asked, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

“Definitely not,” Debbie lied, checking the time on Danny’s watch before she gestured towards the door. “We should go.”

“Don’t forget to grab your girlfriend’s blazer,” Tess smirked.

Debbie rolled her eyes, but stopped in the adjacent bedroom to snatched the blazer off of the bed, storming out into the living room where Lou was waiting. Tess watched quietly as Lou smiled at Debbie with a “thank you, honey” and a wink and then as Debbie straightened the lapels of the blazer before tossing Lou her car keys.

“Ready to go?” Lou asked, looking between the other two women. “I assume by the dress, Deb has chosen our favorite Italian place.”

“Our favorite,” Tess whispered, elbowing Debbie in the side before moving away so Debbie couldn’t swat back at her. She decided to milk the evening for all it was worth to see if she could get some honesty out of the younger Ocean. She may have been a talented con, but Tess knew she couldn’t hide her heart forever.

The trio headed outside and Tess took the opportunity of Lou opening the passenger door open to slip in front of Debbie and slide into the seat, touching Lou’s cheek and thanking her for being so chivalrous. After some giggling in the lounge where they waited for a table, Tess dragged Lou to the seat next to her, the duo sitting across from Debbie. Tess was playing a game, Debbie knew. Lou was just going with the flow but she always knew what made Tess smile and laugh. The two had always been close. It used to make Debbie warm and happy to know that they got along so well, but now, for some reason, it drove her up a wall.

The Ocean’s skin was crawling. They had inside jokes. They shared their entrees. They split dessert. They kept filling Debbie in on jokes and stories she’d missed from the afternoon and Tess could practically see the steam coming out of Debbie’s ears.

“You okay, love?” The blonde whispered to Debbie, lingering outside the car after Tess got in.

“Yeah,” Debbie lied, blinking away tears.

“Not gonna get away with conning me that easy, Ocean,” Lou smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind Debbie’s ear. “Talk later?”

“Yeah,” Debbie repeated numbly.

“Promise?” The Australian whispered, putting her pinky out.

“Promise,” Debbie blushed, her smile turning to a scowl as Tess gave her a look as she clambered into the backseat.

“I’m gonna head home, ladies,” Tess announced as they got out of the car. “Should get home to Danny. But it’s been fun playing hooky with you both. Lou? You owe me a game of strip poker.”

Debbie looked like she was going to explode.

“Give me a second?” Tess asked Lou. “Have some sister business to discuss,” she grinned at Debbie.

Lou waved goodnight to Tess and told Debbie she’d be in the kitchen before heading into the apartment. They both watched her leave and then Tess was looking at Debbie with a sad smile.

“You should tell her, you know,” Tess whispered.

“Tell her what?” Debbie sighed.

“That you’re in love with her.”

“I’m not—“ Debbie started, but she couldn’t deny it. Something was tugging at her heart strings. Why couldn’t she deny it really?

“She loves you too, Deb, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I mean I’ve thought about hooking up maybe but like I said I don’t mix business and pleasure. And I don’t think that I lo—“

“Don’t you though?” Tess smiled, her eyes following Debbie’s as they looked past the cars to the apartment, as if she could see Lou still. “You’ve been doing it for so long I don’t even think you realize.”

“Doing what?” Debbie rolled her eyes.

“Loving her.”

[gubler-me-up]

Lost in Translation

Request(s): Hey :) Can i make a Spencer request? Something like that episode in Mexico, with a bilingual reader please <3 Like a trip and he realizes that the reader can speak Spanish, he's kinda mesmerized and she helps the team to get more information about the unsub

hey beautiful :) could u write something (literally anything) where the reader speaks another language or like they have an australian accent or smthg and they have to like translate for the team and spencer just thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world and then the reader gets real worked up and starts yelling in the other language and spencer is just like skdkdmend,,,,u don’t have to if u don’t wanna but like i love u sm ur amazing 

A/N: Thanks for the first request @cryingforwill​ and shout out to the anon who sent the second request! Can y’all believe this is my last fic of 2020? Being posted early? New year, new me (maybe)! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting my work for the last four months of 2020 you literally ROCK 🗣 btw I am by no means bilingual (maybe a lil French but that’s it) so all the Spanish being spoken in this fic is straight from Google Translate so pls forgive me if it doesn’t translate properly and if you’re like me and don’t know Spanish pls have Google Translate on deck while reading

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: Swearing, semi-nudity, mentions of violence 

Word count: 2k

————-

It was rare that the team travelled abroad for a case but when an unsub was on the run to Mexico they had no choice to follow their tracks. The team landed in Mexico within a day of finding out the unsub had fled. They didn’t waste time scoping out places the unsub could possibly be according to eyewitness reports.

Unfortunately for Spencer he got stuck with surveilling at the beach with Morgan in the hot sun. They made sure to dress for the part by wearing swim trunks and sunglasses. Well, that’s what Morgan was wearing. Spencer opted to wear a white t-shirt,  brown khaki pants and a pair of black converse.

Morgan had begged him to change into something else so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Spencer insisted that if he just stayed on the outskirts of the beach he would look like a tourist sightseeing. The explanation earned him an eye roll and look of disappointment from Morgan.

No matter the amount of disappointment Morgan felt, the surveillance plan went as planned. Morgan went on the beach to blend in with locals and tourists so he could ask people if they had seen the unsub as well as scoping the area for him. Spencer stayed just at the border of the beach surveilling the area. Whenever someone would pass by he would ask them if they had seen the unsub.

From a handful of people ignoring him to them just giving him a weird look, he felt as if he actually did look a bit weird in his attire. He sighed and decided it might be best if he did some surveillance from the car with his pair of binoculars. Before he could turn around to leave, a volleyball hit his feet.

He looked down and picked it up. He had no idea why he picked it up considering he didn’t know who to give it to. Even if he did he wouldn’t embarrass himself trying to hit it back to the person it belonged to. Volleyball was apart of his long list of sports he wasn’t good at.

“Hey, sorry, that’s mine.”

He looked in the direction of where the voice was yelling. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw a gorgeous woman running towards him. He tried to be respectful and not stare for too long considering she was wearing a bikini. He didn’t want her to think he was a creep or even worse, the unsub.

She smiled as she made her way right in front of him. She held out her hands for him to give her back the ball. He looked down at her hands and then at his. He silently went “oh” as he realized he still had the ball in his hand.

“Sorry,” he said as he handed her the ball.

She looked him up and down with a questionable look. She looked back at his face. Spencer for sure thought she was going to treat him like the rest and pretend he just wasn’t there. To his surprise she smiled at him.

“¿Eres de eta zona?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, no lo soy.”

She giggled. “Por la forma en que mataste tu sentencia, puedo decir que eres de los Estados Unidos.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Supongo que eras de la zona.”

She nodded her head. She reached into her bikini top. He watched carefully to see what she was about to pull out. He then realized there’s no way she could be hiding a weapon in her bikini top so he strayed his eyes away from her breast.

She saw how flustered he had become and laughed at how his pale face turned red. She pulled out her I.D. card to show him who she was. He looked at her surprised when he read her identification.

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m originally from America myself but I opted to work for the Policía Federal after serving my time as a special agent at the FBI California headquarters. I’m here to be of assistance to you and your team, agent,” she said.

“How did you know I was-”

“My team was informed by your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, that an unsub had crossed over to our borders, so we know everyone on your team. Also, no one dresses like that unless they’re undercover.”

Spencer looked down at his attire. He guessed Morgan had a valid point of him sticking out. She laughed and grabbed his hand to escort him onto the beach. He hesitantly held back.

“I hate sand in my shoes,” he complained.

“Well, you should have worn sandals. Aren’t you the genius of the group? Dr. Spencer Reid? How come you didn’t think of that?” She questioned as she yanked him onto the beach.

Spencer trailed behind her unwillingly. He could already feel the sand seeping into his shoes already. He would have been more upset but he was entering the beach for some reason Y/N hadn’t explained to him yet. Since she was on their side, there wasn’t a direct reason not to trust her.

“I wasn’t going to go onto the beach. My partner, Derek Morgan, is surveilling the beach,” he explained.

“The beach is the best part to surveil though. Seems to me you got the short end of the stick,” she said.

“It’s the stick I chose and I’m fine with it,” he said.

She giggled. “Tonto, tonto chico.”

“Uh, gracias?”

She led him over to an area where there was a blue beach towel set up with a cloth bag on it. She let his hand go and kneeled on the towel. He looked at her strangely as he watched her ruffling through her bag. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

“Can you apply sunscreen to my back please?” She asked.

“I-I don’t know if-”

“Do you want to blend in or not, khaki pants?”

He looked down at his pants before looking back at her. She reached the bottle out to him and he didn’t feel as if he had a better option so he took it from her. She smiled as she scooted down to make some room for him to kneel behind her.

He went behind her and kneeled. He opened it up and squeezed a good amount on his hands. He rubbed his hands together before he started applying it to her lower back. He had to admit her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched.

“Crees que puedes seguirme si hablo español durante esta conversación?” She asked

“Intentaré,” he said.

“Excelente. Tengo un hueso personal que elegir con su sospechoso,” she said.

“Que hizo…Wait, what are you doing?” He asked.

Y/N reached one hand to the back of her bikini top and untied it. She held the front of it with her free hand so her breasts wouldn’t spill out, flustering Spencer anymore than he already was. She looked back at him with a smile as she saw him turn red again.

“You need to get the whole of my back,” she said.

“Uh…I guess?” He said.

“You sound unsure. Wait until you have to do the front,” she said.

“I what?” He choked.

“I’m kidding. We’ll save that possibility for another time,” she said with a wink before turning her head.

Spencer’s mouth was gaped open but he couldn’t find the words to say back to her. He honestly didn’t know what would be the appropriate way to respond to her. If Morgan was there he probably would have been even more disappointed by the way he was acting around Y/N.

“Your unsub, Eric Brown, almost killed my partner,” she said.

“I heard,” Spencer softly said.

“Ese hijo de puta nos sorprendió. Le disparó a mi compañero en el cuello y si no estuviera allí para evitar que se desangrara, habría estado muerto,” she said, gradually becoming louder in her tone.

“Lamento que tu y tu pareja hayan sido víctimas de él,” he said.

“¿Ser víctima de él? Si vuelvo a ver a ese hijo de puta voy a hacer que me caiga víctima,” she yelled.

He let her have her little moment because he knew how upsetting being in that type of situation could be. Even though he was upset for her, he couldn’t help think her yelling was tantalizing. It didn’t help he was enjoying rubbing her back with sunscreen and feeling her soft skin over and over again.

“Estamos aquí para ayudar en todo lo que podamos. Queremos hacer justicia a su pareja y a las otras víctimas de Brown,” Spencer said.

She turned around to look at him with a smile. He smiled back at her as he took his hands off of her. She looked down at the string that dangled at her side and then looked back at him. He didn’t need her to say anything and grabbed both strings on both sides of her to tie it around her back.

“Eres muy dulce, Spencer. Le devolveré el favor diciéndole esto: escuché de un informante hoy que Brown intentará esconderse en un carro de cargamento de drogas que se dirige a Cuba,” she said.

“Really?” He asked in shock.

“Sí. The shipment leaves in six hours, but the dock isn’t too far from here. If my hunch is right, he isn’t staying too far from the dock,” she said.

“Reid.”

They both looked up to see Morgan walking their way. Spencer immediately got up and dusted the sand off his pants. Y/N also got up and picked up all of her belongings off of the ground.

“Morgan, I-uh…I know what this might seem like but I was-um.”

“Hi, my name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m with the Policía Federal. I was informing agent Reid about Brown’s possible whereabouts,” she said.

“Yeah, apparently, he’s going to get on a drug shipment to Cuba in six hours,” Spencer whispered.

“He’s most likely hiding out somewhere north of Cancun,” she said.

“Great. Thanks for the information. Are your units scouting the area out?” Morgan asked.

She nodded. “Yes, but we’re not trying to penetrate the area directly. We have no idea what kind of people Brown has paired up with and he’s already attacked one of our own before, so we’re treading lightly.”

“Fair. I guess we’ll meet in six hours to catch him,” Morgan said as he reached out his hand.

Y/N grabbed it and shook it. “We definitely will, agent.”

As she let go of his hand, she looked over at Spencer. She smiled and reached out her hand. She noticed his hesitation to grab it, so she did him the favour and latched into his hand. She pulled him in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Gracias por aplicarme protector solar en la espalda. Tal vez después de atrapar a este hijo de puta, podamos ser más íntimos,” she said into his ear.

She pulled away from him and saw that confused yet intrigued look on his face again. She laughed before waving them both goodbye. They both watched as she walked off from their sight into the overcrowded beach.

Morgan flopped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. Spencer looked at Morgan to see a grin spanning from ear to ear. He sighed as he already knew what Morgan was going to say.

“So you spent the time you were supposed to be surveilling rubbing on a hottie’s back?” Morgan asked

“How about we don’t talk about it?” Spencer said as he shrugged off Morgan’s arm and started to walk away.

“You can’t keep your secret move from me,” Morgan said as he walked behind him.

“What secret move?” Spencer asked.

“The “standing there out of place but yet attract all the ladies to me” move,” Morgan said.

Spencer smirked. “I would teach you if I knew why it happened.”

Morgan chuckled. “You know what, I think I’m more content with you finally not knowing an answer for something than I am with you getting a potential date.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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[officialgritty]

How I Would Humble NHL Players

An essay written by bigboigritty. 

I would humble hockey players the only way I know how to, by sending them to Australia. Let’s suppose that they have decided to hold the All Star game over here (forget about it’s usual date) (forget that some players I have listed below might not be invited) (and while you're at it, please forget that Australia’s rinks are Not Good).

I think that they would suffer but in an entertaining way so it’s fine. 

First of all, their biggest concern is getting sunburnt. It would effect all of their dumb asses but I’m particularly worried about Pierre-Luc Dubois and Mitch Marner. Boys are practically translucent. Vince Dunn would be fine, he’d probably wear a shirt most of the time which is a very smart decision. 

You may wonder why I didn’t mention Nolan Patrick because I am a certified slut for him, well I don't think he would have a problem. He would spend most of the time inside and when he joins the others, I think his Virgo ass would reapply sunscreen. Maybe he would burn slightly but I don't think it'd be enough to make him uncomfortable. 

Another thing that I think they will gain from this experience is a higher pain tolerance. Now you’re probably thinking, “Zoe they are NHL players so they can handle pain.” Wrong.

Real pain is running barefoot on cement at theme parks while you race to get to the next ride. Also getting into the car and having to avoid touching every piece of metal to not get branded like a cow. Or better yet, when the heat gets so bad that there’s a black out because everyone has their air conditioning turned on.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that other countries have scary animals but I would pay to see them panic over ours. Crocodiles here can grow up to 5.2 metres / 17 feet. We have a box jellyfish season where it’s advised to avoid swimming or wear wetsuits for coverage. Funnel web spiders can survive underwater for hours by trapping air bubbles around their skin. We have several of the worlds deadliest snakes present across the country. 

Listen, I don't want anyone to get injured but the constant fear that they would have when doing anything would be enough to make me happy.

My biggest question is who would survive in the shady areas, who would survive the eshays?

Under no circumstances can you look them in the eyes or cross their path. They are not to be feared individually but in groups caution is advised. I think the players would attempt to assert dominance and that is simply not an option. You are better off to ignore the eshay.

Nolan would have no issues here if im being honest. He is big and I don't think they’d find it worth it to fuck with him. But you know who they would target? Matthew Tkachuk. “Where are you going pretty boy?” “Oi braa did we hurt your feelings ya pussy cunt?” They would make fun of his hair in particular. 

Travis Konecny would be an eshay. I don't think I need to make further comment. (So would Louis Tomlinson but I am not a 1D account and I will continue to repeat that until it’s true.)

I would also give them a few iconic tasks to get the true Australian experience. Activities for the ‘vacation’ include triathlon events, beach flags, bush walking and climbing the harbour bridge. They could attend a cricket match but they tend to like golf so unfortunately they would probably enjoy this :(

AFL is an extremely popular sport here and I think they would loose their shit when they learn the rules of this game. No protective equipment is used other than mouthguards, that's it. That’s all you get. And jumping onto other players for leverage is encouraged. I would thoroughly enjoy the fights that would break out because of this.

Another task would be to use a map to make their way to a servo for a slurpee. The catch is that they will be required to pass through multiple alleyways. Also, the season is Spring, it’s swooping season mother fuckers. Let’s see how brave you are when birds chase you down the block. Personally I don’t think any of them would pass this test, maybe McDavid because the birds may not be able to detect a heartbeat.

Australian food would disgust them, I just know it. Things that they would need to try are a Bunnings sausage sanga, fairy bread, lamingtons, baked beans on toast, Milo and Vegemite. Because I’m me I would give them no butter with their Vegemite. 

An after thought I had was money so I’m editing this to include it. Everything here is EXPENSIVE so they would need to learn how to budget. Upon doing research, Canadians would be fine but the Americans will be mad.

1000 CAD = 1019 AUD

1000 USD = 1297 AUD

Another after thought was the fact that they won’t be able to drive (or at least drive well) here. We drive on the left and not the right, same goes for walking paths too. I can sense a lot of them bumping into people.

Where I think players would live based on vibes alone:

Carter Hart and Vince Dunn: North Shore Beaches, NSW. Daddy’s money. Carter probably did Nippers whereas Vince was a skater boy. 

Travis Konecny: Darwin, NT. Would 100% live there and enjoy it. He would try to conduct crocodile tours but gets assigned to feeding the baby crocs and doing shows for little kids. 

Tyson Barrie: Perisher, NSW. One of the only ski resorts we have to offer, major friendly mountain man energy.

Nolan Patrick: Byron Bay, NSW. @antoineroussel enlightened me, steering away from my original thought of Katoomba, NSW. Byron Bay is a magnet for hippies and links rainforest to the ocean. Chris Hemsworth and his family also live there.

William Nylander: Perth, WA. I don’t know much about Perth other than they wouldn’t shut up about partying while the other states had to quarantine. For some reason, I also associate Perth with Tik Tok. 

Sidney Crosby and Connor McDavid: Melbourne CBD, VIC. These two would live in the same apartment building in the city, Connor one level above Sidney. It’s the most boring looking block of them all and Crosby would send in complaints to the landlord about McDavid pacing during the night.

Tyler Seguin: Surfers Paradise, QLD. Party central, not many people are actually from this area and he would be sure to tell absolutely everyone that he was. I also think he would get a Meter Maid tattoo, specifically on his leg. Has definitely slept on the beach before because he couldn’t find his way home.

Jamie Benn: Hobart, TAS. Tasmania is usually forgotten about. Another one with mountain man energy except he is more creepy than friendly.

Mitch Marner: Fitzroy, VIC. @antoineroussel is responsible for this one too. Hipster central, makes you question how the hell someone so young can have so much money. Would chug $45 wine and not blink an eye.

(honourable mentions include = Sammy Blais: Hobart, Tas. Once again no comment on Tasmania. TJ Oshie: Cairns, QLD. Would do reef tours. Haydn Fleury: Western Sydney, NSW. Haydn would 100% own a ute or a white holden commodore and you can’t tell me otherwise. Roman Josi: Adelaide, SA. Small town history teacher vibes.)

I have attached a handy map for those who may need it.

In conclusion, the NHL should send their players over here to teach them some manners and while they’re at it, management should bring themselves too. Nolan Patrick could pass as an Australian if he built up a tan. (So does Nylander in this picture but we won’t talk about that.) Come over anytime baby, I’m free. 

Glossary

Servo - A service station, also known as a petrol or gas station. Example: 7/11

Theme park - An amusement park. Can be said in reference to both normal parks and water parks and usually means those in QLD. Example: Six Flags

Swooping season - August to October in Australia. When birds attack and chase humans and / or pets for getting close to their babies. Magpies are notoriously bad for this. 

Bunnings sausage sanga - A cheap feed / meal found at the front of a hardware and gardening store called Bunnings. Made up of white bread, sausage, onion and your choice of sauce.

Fairy bread - White bread with margarine and topped with 100s and 1000s / sprinkles. 

Meter Maids - Women who work along the beach dressed in gold bikinis. They top up parking meters to save tourists from getting fined and will often stop for photos. 

Nippers - Surf lifesaving programs carried out for children between 5 and 14. 

Ute - A pick up truck.

Eshay - A person who partakes in drug use, graffiti, listens to EDM and targets victims in groups. Below is the typical style of an eshay. 

Tagging a few friends so this doesn’t completely flop but feel free to ignore if it isn't your thing. I won’t be offended lmao

@scheifefe @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @d00dlebob @bowenbyram @kempe @prettyboyroope @quintonsbyfield @travisgermy @pitoftrash @kspitehockey @ballsakic @canadianheaters @bricksatlandyswindow @powerblais @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @jamiedrysdales

[shattered-mirror-fanfic]

Chapter 2 is finally out! I’ll try not to take as long with chapter 3!

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32206135/chapters/80533708#workskin

Chapter text below th cut for people who don’t use Ao3:

It was cold...too cold. Darkness was everywhere, he looked down seeing blood smeared on his jacket. He didn’t like these colors, they were violent ones...wait what had happened? It was all coming back, all of it in slow motion. His ears were ringing as a gunshot played over and over in his mind. Screaming, crying, blood, pain...it always was his unwanted home. 

~~~

Right Hand Man woke up in a cold sweat, had it all been a dream? No, it was real, he wasn’t home. He sat up and looked around at the tent he had woken up in, seeing no one else. Right pulled out his phone (which he noted had a new crack across the top) and checked the time. 11:47. He had never woken up this late, especially when there was something big happening. “Oh fuck me with a metal pipe right up the arse.” He mumbled to himself while sliding off his bed and putting on his boots which had been left beside it. Rustling came from outside and as the australian cocked his head to pear at the source of the noise. Ellie walked in notably with her hair in a low ponytail and without her hat.

"Hey boss, glad you're awake. You completely fainted yesterday after, y'know..." She commented.

“Yeah...um, can I ask wot happened while I was out?” Right asked in response.

“Oh yeah, it was still pretty intense....” 

The events of the previous night had started with a strong wind, and ended with a hurricane. Once the government had fled, everything broke down. Henry had immediately darted out, followed by Alphys, Asgore and Frisk. Everyone was panicking. But Right Hand Man...he was silent, cradling Reginald’s newly deceased body in his arms. Have you ever seen a grown man cry? It’s depressing, even more so when it’s a 6’5” australian man with barely anything to lose. Except he just lost the one thing he could lose. Right was trembling for the first time in his life since he was a young lad, tears were rushing down his face as he pulled his best friend closer. He felt the brunette in his arms feel lighter and he cracked his blurred eyes open enough to see Reginald start to fade. Right sobbed more, quietly sputtering out “no”s, all while the teal soul was cracking away, little chips flying off into the wind before dulling and fading. The sun had set, the heart stopped beating. It was all dark, and Right collapsed.

The red-headed woman briefed her boss on everything before addressing which of the tents set up was where Reginald’s broken soul was located.

“Wait, so you’re telling me he's alive?!” Right asked loudly.

“Well, no, the doc just said she had this tank thing that can preserve human souls so she thought it may even work with the chief's soul.” Ellie responded. “Anyways, the doc and Ms. Toriel said they’ll try their best to use healing magic to repair him but it probably won’t work.”

“Hold on, who’s this Toriel lady?”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t get to meet the other monsters yesterday, Ms. Toriel is Asgore’s ex-wife, she’s super nice and patched me up since I got a cut on my arm.” 

“Huh, guess I missed a lot…”

“Yeah, here, if you wanna I can introduce you to everyone, how does that sound?”

“Sure but, can we check on Reg first?”

“Yeah, but how come, he’s just a soul right now?”

“I miss him…”

~~~

Frisk and Henry decided that staying around the makeshift camp was too stuffy, so they headed into town. It wasn’t that bad of a walk terrain wise, but it was still pretty long. Henry decided that maybe being dressed like a wanted criminal wasn’t a good idea, so he had kept his hair in a low ponytail today, leaving his hat at camp and wearing his old jacket over top of his normal fancy clothes. 

As they entered town Frisk reached up and tugged on Henry’s jacket, making him turn and kneel down to their height.

“Hey kid what’s wrong?” Henry asked calmly. Frisk couldn’t find the words to explain it, so they moved their hands in intricate motions, signing to Henry that they’re scared. Henry smiled and signed back saying that he understood and stood back up, grabbing Frisk’s hand in his own and walking with them into the town. They strolled for a bit until they reached a library. Henry pushed open the door to the dark shop, everything seemed old and sketchy. Henry flicked the light switch, lighting up everything and showing not a single speck of dust. All the books in sight seemed brand new, the floor itself looked recently polished. 

“Ah visitors, it’s been too long” A voice chimed from up the stairs. Down walked a man of average height, he had tan skin and dark brown hair pulled into a soft ponytail along his back. He wore grey glasses and a light orange apron, all tied together with a dark blue tie with a small shiny pendant on it. “My name is Mr. Williams, how may I help you?”

“Um hi, I’m Henry, we’re looking for specific books.” Henry said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course, what genre?”

“I’m looking for a book on politics and Mr. Henry is looking for books on human souls.” Frisk chimed in.

“Great, Henry, do you see the shelf by the mirror over there? The books over there should be what you're looking for” The man said, gesturing his hand towards a mirror hanging on the wall. “As for you young child, let me show you where the political books are.” 

Henry made his way to where Mr. Williams had gestured too, turning his head only once to make sure Frisk was okay. The white-haired man sighed as he scanned over the books looking for the correct one. One stood out among the others, it was an older book with a leather cover, he pulled it out of the shelf and stared at the cover. Guide to souls, and how to work soul bonds. Henry shrugged and opened up the table of contents when something caught his eye. One of the very last chapters was titled “How to undo an unwanted soul bond”. He flipped right to the page it would be on, desperate for answers, unfortunately fate was kicking him in the rear this time when the page was shown to be torn out and missing. Great, just freaking great.

“What’s wrong Heny~ Sick of me already?” Henry turned to the ghost behind him. 

“Leave me alone player, I was doing fine before you came along” He stated coldly.

“Don’t you see Hen, you need me, you’re only here because I made you better, and I still need to repay my debt for you helping me all those years ago.”

“I was a child, I of course helped you, just because I did that doesn’t mean I need a demon following me throughout my life!” Henry shout whispered. 

"Eh, everyone's a critic, now if you excuse me, I have to take a snack break.”

“Don’t you dare say it-”

“On the fear of weak.” 

“Of freaking course you drama royal.” 

“Thank you for using the correct pronouns.”

“I’m not an asshole” Henry laughed, following it with a frown. He looked back down at the book in his hand, flipping through the other pages before looking back up. “Hey could you-”

Gone. Player had vanished, like always. The man sighed and turned to the shelf to find another book.

~~~

A few hours had gone by before Henry and Frisk met back up at the entrance to the building, Frisk holding three novel length books on politics for beginners and Henry just with the leather book with the missing page.

“Well I hope you two found everything you needed, feel free to keep those books, I really don’t need them.” The librarian said with a smile. Henry felt something off this time, but shrugged it off as something to not worry about. Frisk wasn’t satisfied with what the kind gentleman had said and reached into their pocket. “Oh, you don’t need to pay, please it’s the least I could do for you lovely folks.”

“Mr. Williams sir, is something wrong?” The child asked, tilting their head to the side. 

“No, no, I’m perfectly grand, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do since you two stopped by.” Mr. Williams reassured. “But, maybe I have been a bit lonely, you see, I lost my daughters a few years ago and no one takes interest in my library anymore.”

Frisk nodded before asking, “What were your daughters' names?”

“I see you're quite the learner young one, very well then. My younger daughter was Cassie, she was a really sweet girl and my older daughter was Amy, she was like a little mini-me.” Mr. Williams said with a spark of joy, dimming as he finished his sentence. Frisk blinked for a moment before reaching into their pocket and pulling out a light orange cloth wrapped around a box-like object (how Frisk was carrying this, Henry didn’t know). 

“I found these, they had your daughters’ names on them, I thought you may want them back.” The child said, unwrapping the fabric to show it was an apron wrapped around a dark purple journal. Frisk passed them to a baffled Mr. Williams as he stared at the objects.

"Th-thank you Frisk, this means so much." He responded, tears welling in his eyes. The man held them close, not wanting to let go at all. 

The store fell silent as the three said their goodbyes. Henry and Frisk left, books in hand, ready to go back. Mr. Williams smiled for what felt like the first time in years. He set the journal and apron on the table below the mirror. He turned ready to head back upstairs to enjoy some tea, but he heard the noise of glass shattering, darting back around to see his mirror broken, right from the center. Two of the shards landed each on his daughter's possessions. 

He thought to himself, they need me, don’t they?

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

✨ Original Post ✨

I know it's supposed to be an ask game but I love stuff like this so I just answered them all lol

Tagging @elevenstarsofchaos @summertimekiller @nutellarghh @tails89 @ash-mcj if you guys want to do it too

1. What is your middle name?

Chase

2. How old are you?

I grew up with dial-up internet, AIM, tamagotchis, and the spice girls

3. When is your birthday?

July 25

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Cancer/Leo cusp

5. What is your favorite color?

Dark Gray and Minty Blue

6. What’s your lucky number?

11 and 7

7. Do you have any pets?

Sadly no, but once I live in a place that allows pets, I'm gonna have a whole bunny army

8. Where are you from?

US east coast

9. How tall are you?

5'4"

10. What shoe size are you?

7/8

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

How many do I have sitting in a shoe rack in my closet or how many do I have stacked by the front door that I actually wear on a regular basis?

12. What was your last dream about?

Last night I dreamt that I was competing on a baking show with my pack and we were all covered in flour trying to figure out how to make sourdough bread lol

13. What talents do you have?

Writing, sewing, knitting, papercrafts, and for some reason, memorizing really random weird fandom-related tongue-twisters like raxacoricofallapatorious

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I like to think I have intuitive moments

15. Favorite song?

It changes daily, but right now it's Willow (Dancing Witch Remix) by Taylor Swift

16. Favorite movie?

It used to be a cross between Tangled, Half-Blood Prince, and The Avengers, but it's been a while and I'm not sure what I'd choose now

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

@elevenstarsofchaos ♥️

18. Do you want children?

Just bunnies 🐰

19. Do you want a church wedding?

I want an outdoor wedding — beach or garden

20. Are you religious?

I think I'd fall under agnostic

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

I got a couple of parking tickets lol

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Apparently I just missed meeting Brendon Urie by a couple of minutes when my partner dropped me off at the airport one time

24. Baths or showers?

Showers, but baths are nice too

25. What color socks are you wearing?

It's July, too hot for socks

26. Have you ever been famous?

If you count seeing your own fic reblogged on your dash

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

Nah, too much pressure. I like my peace and quiet.

28. What type of music do you like?

A little bit of everything, except for country, rap, and metal

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yup

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

I alternate between a memory foam pillow and a buckwheat pillow, both super comfy

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

Side or stomach, usually

32. How big is your house?

It's cozy

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Poached egg on toast and a honeycrisp apple

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

Nope

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I haven't, but I bet that'd be fun

36. Favorite clean word?

Wisteria

37. Favorite swear word?

Fuck

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Two days

39. Do you have any scars?

A few little ones, mostly from hiking or crafting

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Well if it's a secret, how would I know?

41. Are you a good liar?

Lying makes me uncomfy

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I'd like to think so

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

I think I'm decent at a Scottish accent?

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I don't think so

45. What is your favorite accent?

Scottish, Irish, English, and Australian

46. What is your personality type?

INFJ

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

Probably my boots

48. Can you curl your tongue?

Yes

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Innie

50. Left or right handed?

Right

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Oh yes

52. Favorite food?

Hibachi, pho, and thanksgiving style turkey and mashed potatoes

53. Favorite foreign food?

Pho

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

Clean, mess makes me anxious

55. Most used phrased?

56. Most used word?

I'm just gonna take and apply what my lovely friend Hayley said when I asked my pack what my most used phrase and word are lol

Me: What are my words? I have no words. I am wordless. Adrift in the sea without word or wood.

Hayley: Maybe you just have so many words. Every sentence you craft is unique. A gift to be treasured.

Me: Oh 🥺♥️

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

If I'm showered and dressed? Two minutes. If I'm in the middle of a project? I'll *say* two minutes but it'll actually be more like an hour.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I would, but the self-esteem issues keep getting in the way lol

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck until it's soft enough to bite

Welp, that sounds interesting out of context

60. Do you talk to yourself?

I give myself pep talks when I'm feeling anxious

61. Do you sing to yourself?

I sing while I work on projects sometimes

62. Are you a good singer?

I like to think so, I've been told I am

63. Biggest Fear?

That health issues will get in the way of me living a good life

64. Are you a gossip?

Nah

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

Moulin Rouge

66. Do you like long or short hair?

For me personally? Long

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

Yup, the song was drilled into me in middle school chorus lol

68. Favorite school subject?

Art and English

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Introvert, but I like being social with the right people

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

No, but I'd like to

71. What makes you nervous?

Feeling out of control health/body wise, people with bad intentions

72. Are you scared of the dark?

More scared of what might be lurking in the dark, especially dark waters

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Only if they'll cause harm

74. Are you ticklish?

Yes, I'll flail and kick

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

No

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

I was line leader in kindergarten

77. Have you ever drank underage?

Yeah lol

78. Have you ever done drugs?

If weed counts

79. Who was your first real crush?

Ewan McGregor lol

80. How many piercings do you have?

Technically five, all ears, but most of them have closed up by now

81. Can you roll your Rs?

Oui

82. How fast can you type?

Moderate

83. How fast can you run?

I'd like to get better at running in general, let alone fast

84. What color is your hair?

Honey blonde

85. What color is your eyes?

Blue

86. What are you allergic to?

Most fragrances, cigarette smoke, peanuts

87. Do you keep a journal?

I do

88. What do your parents do?

Like for fun or for work?

89. Do you like your age?

It's fine

90. What makes you angry?

People who are insensitive, argumentative, and controlling

91. Do you like your own name?

Yeah

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

No, but I have a list of character names I like

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

I don't want kids, but if I had to choose, I guess I'd want a girl

94. What are you strengths?

I'm creative, I'm resilient, and I can make people laugh

95. What are your weaknesses?

Anxiety and fear of pain

96. How did you get your name?

I was born and my parents named me lol

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

I don't know, I've never done an ancestry test

98. Do you have any scars?

I feel like I already answered this lol

99. Color of your bedspread?

Charcoal gray comforter and blue and gray stars on white sheets

100. Color of your room?

White, but if I had a choice, I think I'd paint it light minty blue or light purple, with a matching darker accent wall

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.8k

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 17 Part 19

Part 18

It was a crazy week, and by Wednesday, I had had enough and wanted it to be all over. It was the last day of school for the term. The kids were rowdy, and it was hard for them to concentrate. I gave up structured lessons after the morning session, and we did Easter craft. Still, even craft was hard for my kids. Most of them can't use scissors without assistance or had to use modified ones set into a wooden block. It wasn't a bludge, but it was much less stressful for both the kids and myself.

I had playground duty at lunchtime. Some of the older mainstream kids had heard about Liam, and a few would walk past me and sing the theme song to his superhero movies. Others would have a conversation with me and sneak in a movie quote. Lucky for me, most of Liam's films weren't appropriate for children, so there were only a few they could use. The kids would run away giggling, and I would shake my head. I wasn't upset by it, kids are kids, and at least they made their fun to my face.

The parents were awful. The mums would go quiet when I was near them, and I would hear laughter or whispering as I walked away. The dads looked at me just that little bit longer, making me feel uncomfortable. I just tried to remember Liam's arms around me, the way he made me feel safe in his arms. I found myself touching my earrings a lot. They soothed me.

The worst part was the other staff. Not all of them, just a couple of the younger ones and newer ones. Their eyes seemed to bore into me in the staff room and in meetings. The ones who had been here when Andy died were good. They appeared to be on the same page as Marla had been. The rest of the support class teachers and TA's were kind. They actually asked me to my face about it, seemed happy for me, and then that was it they moved on.

My boss, Michael, did call me into his office on Monday afternoon. He was good about it mostly, just concerned because apparently, the office staff had received a few phone calls from a couple of media outlets trying to get in contact with me. The staff were good enough to hang up on them. I was honest with Michael and said I didn't know what my plans were, just that we were dating. I did tell him about how it would be official on Thursday, but it worked out well because the office would be empty for two weeks, and by then, I'll be old news.

When I spoke to Liam on the phone, I had told him about how I was feeling. I was honest about it as much as I could be.

Liam was empathetic and seemed sincere when he said I didn't have to go. "If it's too much, we can wait for another time. The dress you have will be as good in a few months as it is now. Or we can return it all and try again later." Cheekily he said, "I'll let you keep the earrings."

I declined. I wanted to get it over with. I figured the quicker it was done, the quicker no one would care, and I can go back into hiding. It was like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

When I had gotten home from work on Tuesday, I had decided to do the hardest thing of all. I called Andy's mother.

Anthea was born in Greece and immigrated to Australia with her family in her early teens. She had met Andy's dad, Tim, a white Australian with Irish heritage, and they had a beautiful marriage. They had five children, three boys and two girls. Andy was the youngest son and was the unofficial favourite. She had always been lovely to me. She always called me Little Lana and would always hug me and insist I ate. On my birthday, she would make me galaktoboureko. She still calls me for my birthday and invites me over for Orthodox Easter and Christmas. I don't go, but I always make sure to call and send presents for my two godchildren.

"My Little Lana," Anthea gushed. "It is so good to hear from you. How are you going? Tim, Lana is on the phone! He will be so happy you called. Yes, Timothy, it's Lana. Yes, Tim says g'day. How are you? We miss you. How is work? How are your precious children? You do such good work, Little Lana."

Did I mention she talks a lot? She was one of those people who seemed to speak without having to take a breath.

"Hi Anthea, I'm doing well. Work is great, really good. I have a great bunch this year."

"Yes, you sound happy, Little Lana. Your new boyfriend must have something to do with it? He is very handsome. Not as handsome as Kamari mou but handsome. I showed all my friends, and they tell me you are still so beautiful and your hair is still so pretty and long. So long now. You've grown it."

I was stunned. I tried to talk, but the lump in my throat was so big, I couldn't swallow. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a huge sob, and I broke down.

"I'm sorry, Anthea, I am so sorry."

"Why are you crying? Stop it. Alana, why would I be upset? Why are you crying? Don't cry, silly girl. You should be happy. I do not expect you to be wearing black, like an old lady from my old country, for the rest of your life. I know you loved my son. but you're too young to grieve forever."

"I wanted to call you and tell you, but it happened so fast." I was still crying, but it wasn't so bad now. Anthea had comforted me in a way that I hadn't even known I needed. That she still loved me when I had started dating another man was incredible to me.

"You shhh, Little Lana. Listen to me. You have obviously called me for permission whether you know that's what you were doing or not. You have it, my blessing. Kamari mou wanted you to be happy also. He would not want you to be alone forever. You know this. Go speak to him, speak to Andy, and you will know."

"Thank you, Anthea."

"There now, Little Lana, you will be ok. Now no more speaking of sadness. I must tell you all the wonderful news. You will be an Aunty again soon."

Anthea talked to me for a little over an hour. Talking to Anthea was being talked at, but I needed it. I promised to call her again soon. She, of course, invited me to Easter but didn't expect a reply.

I felt lighter after talking to her. She was right. I had needed to know from her that she was ok with it. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been. I don't think I would have ended it with Liam. I think I was in too deep, but it would have been much harder to go on.

Anthea was right about something else too. I needed to talk to Andy.

So after school on Wednesday, I drove to the cemetery. I went and saw my Dad first. I didn't have much to say to him. I just sat there and let the memories come to me.

I remembered when I was six, and he shaved his moustache off, and I hadn't recognised him. I had run screaming to my Mum that there was a stranger in the house. I remembered how he would take us to see the fireworks on New Year's Eve, getting there early to get good spots and watch in awe as the fireworks exploded over Sydney Harbour. Nothing was as breathtaking as my home city on New Year's Eve. I thought about how he loved David Bowie, and he had even convinced my mother to name my brother after him. Dave and I had taken Dad to see David Bowie a few years before he passed away, and it was one of the most incredible nights of my life. The Labyrinth is still my favourite kid's movie, and Jareth was my first crush. He looked so good in those tights.

I went to see Andy. I don't see him very often. I go on Boxing Day, his birthday and our anniversary. As had become my ritual on those visits, I had his old phone and listened to his playlist. I laid down on the grass next to him and looked up at the sky. After a while, I started talking.

"Hey Butthead," I started, smiling as I said our private nickname. "I've got some things to tell you. First of all, I miss you. But surely you know that. And I know you know I will always love you. You were such a beacon in my life. A light for me when everything else was dark. I was like a moth to your flame. You drew me in, making me want to be close to you. You always made me feel like everything would be ok if I just stayed in your light. Things were so dark when you were taken from me. For so long, I felt nothing. Everything was dark.

"But then I started feeling better. I still missed you every day, but I wanted to find that again. Feel that love and safety again. I started dating about six months ago. Online mostly, you know, how the kids do it these days. I went on a few dates but felt nothing. Or if I did feel something, I felt like they weren't as good as you. Why would I settle for anyone who wasn't as good as you?

"I don't mean the same as you. I mean someone who moves me the way you did. Someone who showed me kindness like you did, someone who made me laugh, made me feel giddy. Someone I was attracted to. But also someone I wanted to do things for, someone who I wanted to go out of my way for, not because they forced me, but because I wanted to because I knew they would do it for me.

"I was about to give up. I only tried dating for a few months, but it felt so futile that I didn't care anymore. Then this guy started messaging me. He was sweet and funny, a Pom, but don't hold that against him. Anyway, I liked him instantly. It scared the shit out of me. I made him wait three months before I agreed to meet him. I was so scared because I knew I could fall for him.

"And when I met him, the sparks were there. It was instant. He was all the things I wanted. He's not like you. You're both very different. I mean, he doesn't like Mad Max for God's sake. But he makes me feel the way you made me feel. And Andy, I am falling for him."

*********************

"Lana, hold still." Jen was pulling my hair. I looked over at Riza, who was covering her mouth with a magazine. Her shaking shoulders gave her away, though, and I could see she was laughing her arse off. "I only have a couple more to do, and then you can go home and sleep."

I was at Riza's place. I had to see Jen after I spoke to Andy. Jen wanted to put my hair in pin curls. She had washed my hair and then got started pinning small sections of my already curly hair into curls.

I thought it was weird, but she said the hair has to be curled in the right direction for the style to work. She also said that the longer the curls were in, the better the result. That's why I was at her place, getting my hair done 24 hours before the event. How do celebrities live like this?

"How the hell am I going to sleep in this?" Riza's dropped all pretence and was laughing openly at me now. "Get bent, Riza."

"Hey! You're the one who looks like a 1950's housewife right now."

"1940's babe," Jen admonished. "Get it right."

When she finished, she wrapped my hair in a silk scarf. "Did you buy me an apron to go with the barefoot in the kitchen look?" I asked.

Jen laughed. She knew me well enough to know it was a joke. "Trust me. You're gonna love it."

"So when do I take the clips out?" I asked Jen.

"Not until I do your hair."

My eyes bulged. "I'm going to Liam's place hours before you're going to get there."

Riza pissed herself laughing, and Jen just said, "trust me."

When I got in bed, I rang Liam. I Facetimed him. Maybe if he laughs at me now, he won't laugh at me when I'm there, which would break my heart. His reaction surprised me.

"Why are you wearing a scarf? Please tell me you didn't dye your hair." He looked devastated.

"And what if I did?" I asked.

"You would still be you. It wouldn't change anything." He sputtered.

"Nice save," I laughed.

"I think being a redhead suits you. It makes you a little different."

I told Liam it was to protect the pin curls so they don't frizz. "You don't have to worry about me dying my hair until I start going white. I've never died my hair. It's my natural colour."

Liam's lip twitched. "I've noticed." He said.

I could have died.

On Thursday morning, I skipped the gym for obvious reasons, showered carefully so as not to wet my hair and started to get ready. I packed my bag and packed a bag for Perrin with his bed, crate, and food. I did a quick run through the shops to the dressmaker to pick the dress up from the dressmaker and to buy underwear for the dress. I didn't need a bra, but I wasn't going without underpants.

In the morning, I pottered, waiting for lunchtime to arrive and for Liam to finish his half-day at work. I was so jittery I had dropped my coffee this morning, and the mug had smashed. Not having anything to do and waiting for hours made it all worse. I had to do something, so I painted my nails and watched Kill Bill Vol. 1.

The story took me over, and soon I was transported with the action and exceptional dialogue. I decided the only person who could convince me to be an actor would be Quentin. I even went and got out my "Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino" hoodie for added comfort. When it was over, I did feel a little better and whistling the song from the movie, I got Perrin and went to Liam's.

By the time I got to Liam's house, the nerves had come back. I found it hard to concentrate and almost just walked Perrin into the backyard. I sighed and put Perrin on his leash and texted Liam that I was here, and walked to the park with Perrin. We had planned a way to introduce the dogs during the week. The snag was I had agreed to it before I knew about the hair situation. But I found an old bucket hat of Andy's that fit and hid most of my head. I still felt ridiculous, but at least the hat somewhat normal.

When I saw Liam, my heart leapt. I wanted to run to him, have him hold me, soothe away all the pain of the last week and fear of tonight. But we had to introduce the dogs first.

We walked to each other as Perrin and Cole had a little sniff of each other. There was no immediate dislike.

"Hello, Sweetheart." His voice took my breath away.

"Hi," I said.

"Cute hat."

"Arse." I was smiling, though.

"I've missed you," he smiled broadly.

I gave him a small smile.

Liam farrowed his eyebrows. "These two look like they are ok," he said. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

I nodded, and Liam leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before we started to walk. We went side by side, keeping the dogs apart. Liam put his arm around my shoulder.

"You're very quiet this afternoon," he said after a few minutes.

"I'm nervous."

"About the dogs or tonight?" He asked. "Or something else?"

"Tonight." I felt like a petulant child with all these short remarks, but I couldn't give him anymore just yet. I let my head rest on his shoulder to try to let him know he wasn't the reason I was acting distant.

Liam squeezed me. "You'll be ok. You're going to be dressed beautifully and appropriately. No one is going to laugh at you. You'll see. Myra and Boyd are all excited to meet you. This is Myra's boyfriends first red carpet, too, so you won't be the only virgin." He paused and chuckled. "Although, I had better keep you two apart. He's a sparky? I think that's the word. I don't want him stealing you away from me. I know how much you love tradies."

I laughed. Liam had said all the right things in a few moments, and I felt calm again. At least calm enough that I can have a conversation. "Thanks, Liam," I said and kissed his cheek.

We walked for about half an hour. The dogs walked together for a bit. Perrin, being so old, was pretty laid back about the whole thing and Cole, while curious, just seemed happy to be making a new friend.

When we got back to Liam's house, we let them leashes off, and Perrin had a sniff around the yard. Cole either followed behind him or bounced around in front of him as if he were saying, "come look at this place over here."

While Perrin explored, Liam stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes a moment, listening to the sounds of the city.

"You're such a good hugger," I told Liam as I turned around in his arms and put my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his shirt, seeking his warmth and familiar scent.

"A compliment. From you? With no sarcasm?" Liam teased. "It must be my lucky day."

"Just shut up and kiss me," I said, and I lifted my head to meet his. Our kisses were soft at first, but they became more than that very quickly.

Liam pulled away and said, "we aren't alone. Ryan is here." Liam suggested that Ryan stay with the dogs while we were out. He would be back on Sunday and Monday, too, to take Cole for a walk and play.

I sighed. "Riza will be here soon anyway. We better get these guys inside and settled."

We took the dogs inside and got them set up. Then and I met Ryan, who was working in Liam's study. I don't know what I expected from Ryan, but a Scottish Hercules was not it. He was at least as large as Liam, had dark hair and green eyes and although he paled in comparison to Liam, he was handsome and instantly likeable.

We shook hands, and he said, "it's nice to meet you, Lana. I've heard a lot about you, so it's nice to put a face to the name." His accent was noticeable but not thick, and he spoke with a confident calmness that must be essential in his job. He doesn't mention or look at my scarf, which is a relief. I smiled and said, "Same. I keep hearing all these names, so it's nice to meet finally."

Liam gets me to put Ryans number in my phone. He said I should call Ryan if I need to contact him if he's not reachable while filming. I look at Ryan, and he nods as he says, "it's my job."

I do it, but I roll my eyes. He's not my assistant.

We let Ryan get back to work, and we go out to my car to bring my stuff in. By the time I've set up Perrin's things and sorted out my put my bags away, Riza and Jen arrive.

Liam opened the door for them, and Riza stood stunned for a moment. "Damn, you're built like a brick shithouse." Riza was very petite, half a head shorter than me, so you'd think she'd be used to everyone being bigger than her.

Liam, bless his cotton socks, laughed and put his hand out. "You must be Riza."

Riza took his hand, "yeah, mate, how's it going?" Liam stood aside to let her come in. She was hauling a massive makeup case, and Liam offered to take it for her. I thought she would bristle at his offer, but instead, she just gave it to him.

I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, indicating my surprise. She just shrugged and gave me a strange look, and looked straight back at him. Riza is a pocket rocket type and prefers to be seen as one of the boys a lot of times. Andy even invited her to his bucks weekend despite her being my maid of honour, so the whole interaction was unusual.

Jen came in and introduced herself to Liam, and it was a much more civilised exchange than Riza's.

I gave them both hugs and kisses on the cheek. "Thanks for doing this, Jen and you too, Riza."

"No worries," Riza said.

Liam offered them both some wine and looked at me to see if I wanted one. I agreed, and we all sat in the lounge room.

Riza grabbed my hand when Liam had his back turned, "Sorry Lans, I think I got star struck. I'm a fucking dickhead."

Jen and I laughed at her, and I said, "serves you right for taking the piss out of me last night."

Liam came back with glasses and a bottle of white wine and poured us all a drink before taking a seat next to me. He sat next to me, resting his arm on the lounge behind me and put his ankle on his knee. His foot bounced, and I looked at him, and it struck me that he was anxious.

I put my hand on his foot to soothe him and turned to Riza and said, "did I tell you that Liam planned a trip to Mt Hotham this winter? I think it was June? Queens Birthday weekend? Before your Mum comes. Anyway, Riza, you spent a few winters there. Got any ideas for some good runs?"

That was it, the two of them talked about skiing, and the tension in the air lifted. I even swapped seats with Riza and sat with Jen for a bit. Once I could tell Liam and Riza were comfortable with each other, I asked Liam where Jen could set up.

Liam said to go to the master on the third, and he went to get up to take us there. I told him Jen, and I could be fine, and he smiled at me and kept talking to Riza. Jen and I smiled at each other and went up to get ready.

Part 19

[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.

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 5 paragraph x

Of my classes, English was the only one I looked forward to, yet I was disturbed by how many of my classmates disliked Thoreau, railed against him even, as if he (who claimed never to have learned anything of value from an old person) was an enemy and not a friend. His scorn of commerce—invigorating to me —nettled a lot of the more vocal kids in Honors English. “Yeah, right,” shouted an obnoxious boy whose hair was gelled and combed stiff like a Dragon Ball Z character—“some kind of world it would be if everybody just dropped out and moped around in the woods—” “Me, me, me,” whined a voice in the back. “It’s antisocial,” a loudmouth girl interjected eagerly over the laughter that followed this—shifting in her seat, turning back to the teacher (a limp, long-boned woman named Mrs. Spear, who always wore brown sandals and earthtone colors, and looked as if she was suffering from major depression). “Thoreau is always just sitting around on his can telling us how good he has it —” “—Because,” said the Dragon Ball Z boy—his voice rising gleefully, “if everybody dropped out, like he’s saying to do? What kind of community would we have, if it was just people like him? We wouldn’t have hospitals and stuff. We wouldn’t have roads.” “Twat,” mumbled a welcome voice—just loud enough for everybody around to hear. I turned to see who had said this: the burnout-looking boy across the aisle, slouched and drumming his desk with his fingers. When he saw me looking at him, he raised a surprisingly lively eyebrow, as if to say: can you believe these fucking idiots? “Did someone have something to say back there?” said Mrs. Spear. “Like Thoreau gave a toss about roads,” said the burnout boy. His accent took me by surprise: foreign, I couldn’t place it. “Thoreau was the first environmentalist,” said Mrs. Spear. “He was also the first vegetarian,” said a girl in back. “Figures,” said someone else. “Mr. Crunchy-chewy.” “You’re all totally missing my point,” the Dragon Ball Z boy said excitedly. “Somebody has to build roads and not just sit in the woods looking at ants and mosquitoes all day. It’s called civilization.” My neighbor let out a sharp, contemptuous bark of a laugh. He was pale and thin, not very clean, with lank dark hair falling in his eyes and the unwholesome wanness of a runaway, callused hands and black-circled nails chewed to the nub—not like the shiny-haired, ski-tanned skate rats from my school on the Upper West Side, punks whose dads were CEOs and Park Avenue surgeons, but a kid who might conceivably be sitting on a sidewalk somewhere with a stray dog on a rope. “Well, to address some of these questions? I’d like for everybody to turn back to page fifteen,” Mrs. Spear said. “Where Thoreau is talking about his experiment in living.” “Experiment how?” said Dragon Ball Z. “Why is living in the woods like he does any different from a caveman?” The dark-haired boy scowled and sank deeper in his seat. He reminded me of the homeless-looking kids who stood around passing cigarettes back and forth on St. Mark’s Place, comparing scars, begging for change—same torn-up clothes and scrawny white arms; same black leather bracelets tangled at the wrists. Their multi-layered complexity was a sign I couldn’t read, though the general import was clear enough: different tribe, forget about it, I’m way too cool for you, don’t even try to talk to me. Such was my mistaken first impression of the only friend I made when I was in Vegas, and—as it turned out—one of the great friends of my life. His name was Boris. Somehow we found ourselves standing together in the crowd that was waiting for the bus after school that day.

“Hah. Harry Potter,” he said, as he looked me over. “Fuck you,” I said listlessly. It was not the first time, in Vegas, I’d heard the Harry Potter comment. My New York clothes—khakis, white oxford shirts, the tortoiseshell glasses which I unfortunately needed to see—made me look like a freak at a school where most people dressed in tank tops and flip flops. “Where’s your broomstick?” “Left it at Hogwarts,” I said. “What about you? Where's your board?” “Eh?” he said, leaning in to me and cupping his hand behind his ear with an old-mannish, deaf-looking gesture. He was half a head taller than me; along with jungle boots and bizarre old fatigues with the knees busted out, he was wearing a ratted-up black T-shirt with a snowboarding logo, Never Summer in white gothic letters. “Your shirt,” I said, with a curt nod. “Not much boarding in the desert.” “Nyah,” said Boris, pushing the stringy dark hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know how to snowboard. I just hate the sun.” We ended up together on the bus, in the seat closest to the door—clearly an unpopular place to sit, judging from the urgent way other kids muscled and pushed to the rear, but I hadn’t grown up riding a school bus and apparently neither had he, as he too seemed to think it only natural to fling himself down in the first empty seat up front. For a while we didn’t say much, but it was a long ride and eventually we got talking. It turned out that he lived in Canyon Shadows too—but farther out, the end that was getting reclaimed by the desert, where a lot of the houses weren’t finished and sand stood in the streets. “How long have you been here?” I asked him. It was the question all the kids asked each other at my new school, like we were doing jail time. “Dunno. Two months maybe?” Though he spoke English fluently enough, with a strong Australian accent, there was also a dark, slurry undercurrent of something else: a whiff of Count Dracula, or maybe it was KGB agent. “Where are you from?” “New York,” I said—and was gratified at his silent double-take, his lowered eyebrows that said: very cool. “What about you?” He pulled a face. “Well, let’s see,” he said, slumping back in his seat and counting off the countries on his fingers. “I’ve lived in Russia, Scotland which was maybe cool but I don’t remember it, Australia, Poland, New Zealand, Texas for two months, Alaska, New Guinea, Canada, Saudi Arabia, Sweden, Ukraine—” “Jesus Christ.” He shrugged. “Mostly Australia, Russia, and Ukraine, though. Those three places.” “Do you speak Russian?” He made a gesture that I took to mean more or less. “Ukrainian too, and Polish. Though I’ve forgotten a lot. The other day, I tried to remember what was the word for ‘dragonfly’ and couldn’t.” “Say something.” He obliged, something spitty and guttural. “What does that mean?” He chortled. “It means ‘Fuck you up the ass.’ ” “Yeah? In Russian?” He laughed, exposing grayish and very un-American teeth. “Ukrainian.” “I thought they spoke Russian in the Ukraine.” “Well, yes. Depends what part of Ukraine. They’re not so different languages, the two. Well—” click of the tongue, eye roll—“not so very much. Numbers are different, days of the week, some vocabulary. My name is spelled different in Ukrainian but in North America it’s easier to use Russian spelling and be Boris, not B-o-r-y-s. In the West everybody knows Boris Yeltsin…” he ticked his head to one side—“Boris Becker—” “Boris Badenov—” “Eh?” he said sharply, turning as if I’d insulted him. “Bullwinkle? Boris and Natasha?” “Oh, yes. Prince Boris! War and Peace. I’m named like him. Although the surname of Prince Boris is Drubetskóy, not what you said.”

“So what’s your first language? Ukrainian?” He shrugged. “Polish maybe,” he said, falling back in his seat, slinging his dark hair to one side with a flip of his head. His eyes were hard and humorous, very black. “My mother was Polish, from Rzeszów near the Ukrainian border. Russian, Ukrainian—Ukraine as you know was satellite of USSR, so I speak both. Maybe not Russian quite so much—it’s best for swearing and cursing. With Slavic languages—Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, even Czech—if you know one, you sort of get drift in all. But for me, English is easiest now. Used to be the other way around.” “What do you think about America?” “Everyone always smiles so big! Well—most people. Maybe not so much you. I think it looks stupid.” He was, like me, an only child. His father (born in Siberia, a Ukrainian national from Novoagansk) was in mining and exploration. “Big important job—he travels the world.” Boris’s mother—his father’s second wife—was dead. “Mine too,” I said. He shrugged. “She’s been dead for donkey’s years,” he said. “She was an alkie. She was drunk one night and she fell out a window and died.” “Wow,” I said, a bit stunned by how lightly he’d tossed this off. “Yah, it sucks,” he said carelessly, looking out the window. “So what nationality are you?” I said, after a brief silence. “Eh—?” “Well, if your mother’s Polish, and your dad’s Ukrainian, and you were born in Australia, that would make you—” “Indonesian,” he said, with a sinister smile. He had dark, devilish, very expressive eyebrows that moved around a lot when he spoke. “How’s that?” “Well, my passport says Ukraine. And I have part citizenship in Poland too. But Indonesia is the place I want to get back to,” said Boris, tossing the hair out of his eyes. “Well—PNG.” “What?” “Papua, New Guinea. It’s my favorite place I’ve lived.” “New Guinea? I thought they had headhunters. “Not any more. Or not so many. This bracelet is from there,” he said, pointing to one of the many black leather strands on his wrist. “My friend Bami made it for me. He was our cook.” “What’s it like?” “Not so bad,” he said, glancing at me sideways in his brooding, self-amused way. “I had a parrot. And a pet goose. And, was learning to surf. But then, six months ago, my dad hauled me with him to this shaddy town in Alaska. Seward Peninsula, just below Arctic Circle? And then, middle of May —we flew to Fairbanks on a prop plane, and then we came here.” “Wow,” I said. “Dead boring up there,” said Boris. “Heaps of dead fish, and bad Internet connection. I should have run away—I wish I had,” he said bitterly. “And done what?” “Stayed in New Guinea. Lived on the beach. Thank God anyway we weren’t there all winter. Few years ago, we were up north in Canada, in Alberta, this one-street town off the Pouce Coupe River? Dark the whole time, October to March, and fuck-all to do except read and listen to CBC radio. Had to drive fifty klicks to do our washing. Still—” he laughed —“loads better than Ukraine. Miami Beach, compared.” “What does your dad do again?” “Drink, mainly,” said Boris sourly. “He should meet my dad, then.” Again the sudden, explosive laugh—almost like he was spitting over you. “Yes. Brilliant. And whores?” “Wouldn’t be surprised,” I said, after a small, startled pause. Though not too much my dad did shocked me, I had never quite envisioned him hanging out in the Live Girls and Gentlemen’s Club joints we sometimes passed on the highway. The bus was emptying out; we were only a few streets from my house. “Hey, this is my stop up here,” I said. “Want to come home with me and watch television?” said Boris. “Well—” “Oh, come on. No one’s there. And I’ve got S.O.S. Iceberg on DVD.”