#brisbane racing club

[maxsimagination]

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘂𝗺 - 𝗸.𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆

summary: harper plays match-maker & inadvertently manages to get her mum to go ask a girl out.

𖦹 masterlist

"𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗞𝗔𝗧, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 seen harps?"

i knocked on katrina's hotel room door, but there was no response so i walked in. i was going to take harper down with me so katrina could get ready, but immediately stopped in my tracks when a saw the scene before me. harper was on the bed, katrina curled around her, both sound asleep.

my heart melted seeing my two favourite people together like that. as much as i wanted to let kat sleep longer, i knew i had to wake her up. coach wanted us down in a half hour for a team meeting about the game.

"kat, you gotta wake up now." i sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her arm, shaking her a bit. she came to after a few moments of me shaking her lightly. kat's groggy face turned to look at who was tearing her from her sleep. "hey sleeping beauty." i grinned down at her. "mm, i jus' need five more minutes."

"we have that meeting soon, you gotta get up, min." everyone in the team called her mini, or min, because of her short stature, but i was an exception. i called her kat, only on occasion did i switch it for mini.

"fuuuuckk." she drawled out. eventually she sat up slowly and got up. the small child next to her had shuffled around and woke up at the slight commotion near her. "hey harps." i ruffled her her a bit and she giggled at me. i picked her up and smoothed down her clothes before katrina walked out of the bathroom, her hair fixed and looking slightly less tired.

"let's head down, yea?"

i only received a light mumble in response, kat's way of agreeing. we knew each other in and out by now, we'd been best friends for years. probably from the first time we met years ago at her then club, brisbane roar, and soon after mine.

i had signed a deal with the club, contracted for 5 years. katrina had already been there for a year or two when i joined, but her contract ran out two years before mine did. she moved from there that year, signing with some other club over in england, leaving me behind.

unbeknownst to me, she did a stint with the club in england but then moved to a sweden club which i would later sign with. it was a big offer from them and a big sign for me, having to move from australia to sweden and play for vittsjö gik. but i quickly decided it was the best decision i'd made in my life when i saw katrina on the training field at my first session. we were inseparable and attached at the hip again, we went everywhere together.

i had, very, quickly caught some sort of feelings towards the older woman when we first met and didn't know how to feel about that fact, choosing to ignore the butterflies that made chaos of my abdomen when i saw her.

i never knew if she had felt the same, and didn't want to ruin what bond we had together so i never said a word. now here we are, at national camp together, about 10 years later. it was a messy situation, especially on my end, but i made the most of it, loving every moment i got to spend with katrina, and her little harper.

"thank you for looking after harps, yn." she brought me out of my little daydream with her gratitude. "it's all good, kat. i love the kid as much as anyone." harper wriggled around in my arms at my words.

we had made it to the meeting room then, and joined the rest of the team to take a seat.

——

it felt like a whole year had gone by after we left that room. my butt had gone numb from how long i was in that seat for. harper was in my arms again as me and kat walked out and towards the cafeteria. i honestly thought i could eat a horse, my last meal was at breakfast, almost 5 hours ago. i grabbed what i could fit onto my plate and raced over to a table and placed everything on the surface. katrina handed harper off to me while she went to get her's and harps lunch.

we sat in comfortable silence eating our food, me more so devouring. i finished everything on my plate and was finally full. both kat and harper were still eating, and both were laughing at me and my content sighs after eating for two people. "shut up, i was starving." i send a joking look to kat and she laughs some more at me.

"mama. water, please." harper's voice catches us both off guard, and we both just stare at her as she looks at me and makes grabby hands for my water bottle.

"did she..?" i trail off in a silent question to katrina. "yea.. she did." i went white as a sheet, body frozen. i finally found it in me and passed harper my water bottle. the kid latches onto it and drinks some. i was still shocked and hadn't uttered any words other than confirming what we'd both seen with kat.

my brain seemed to malfunction as my mind told me i needed to leave. i grabbed my plate, making some sort of excuse to get out of the room.

i bolted, heading for my own room this time. i flopped down on my bed, mind racing a million miles and hour. harper called me mama! i was elated but also worried at the same time. what if kat didn't want her kid to think of me as her second mum? my nerves and anxiety were called to the forefront and i kept asking myself questions without answers.

it felt like two seconds but there was a knock on my door, and suddenly it opened. i shot upright, and seeing it was kat, flopped back down.

i couldn't even look her in the face as she walked over. "yn. are you okay?" "umm, yes?" it came out more as a question rather than a statement. "you're not. you were white as a ghost before." a split second of reckless thought sent me over the edge and i blurted. "harper called me mama." i didn't know what i was doing, i just needed to air that statement.

"yea, about that. i'm sorry, i didn't know she saw it like that." "you're.. sorry?" i was confused. did she not want me to be a mum to harper? "yea, i didn't think you wanted things to be like that."

surely she's joking. "kat.." i sat up and took a deep breath.

"katrina, i would love to be a mum to harper. i never told you any of this, and it's been at least 4 years of me bottling up my feelings. i have liked you so much, for the longest time. i have wanted nothing more to hug you as more than friends for the longest time. but i never said anything because i didn't want to ruin our friendship. you're like my best friend. but i want us to be more."

shit. i just ruined it didn't i? i looked up at katrina tentatively, scared to see her expression.

surprisingly, it wasn't one of hate. she almost looked.. relieved? "oh thank god." that was a new one. she sat down next to me so we were eye level again.

"i am so glad you said something, i would have gone another few years without saying anything. i like you so much more than friends, yn. i can't even begin to explain how thankful i am to have you in my life, to help me with harper, or to just be with me when i need a shoulder to cry on."

what she says catches me off guard, i fully expected her to shun me and tell me she wasn't interested.

"wait.. really?" she nods with a smile. "yes really. you mean so much to me-" i cut her off by pressing my lips to hers. she freezes up but just as quickly, kisses me back. her lips are soft, sweet, they taste like caramel. i had my hands on either side of her face. she moves hers down to wrap around my waist. everything around us stops moving as we continue in our own little world. finally we break apart to take a breath.

"katrina-lee gorry, do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

"always, yn yln."

[ladylaviniya]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 5 || MasterList || Chapter 7

Chapter Summary: You get the ultimate privilege of meeting Nicholas Tortano who grants you the ability to surprise August Walker

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Sexual tension, P in V intercourse, fingering, petnames, dubious consent, hate sex, rough sex, gun violence, threats with a gun, forceful handling, belittling, manipulation The reader vomits and is kissed briefly at some point. Mentions of dacryphilia, sadism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: .I dont honestly know but it's definitely more than 6k

Author Notes: the chapter and editing process was very rough I'm very sorry full stop my life has been in a business because I'm trying to find a new place to live and I've started going to the gym and missing out on a lot of sleep. I'm about to pass out which is why I'm posting this now. Again sorry for any mistakes granrma and otherwise

Inspiring Song: "girl with one eye " Florence and the machine. (Yes I know it's a sapphic song- I sing it like every day but let me have this pass to add it in)

08:09am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.

'What the hell is she thinking?'

Henry shook his head as he reached the complex exit and walked out onto the street to the waiting car.

He wanted to smirk but the frowning scowl would not drop from his face.

'If I was anyone else, God what I'd do to her-' his hand clenched the passenger side door handle hard and slammed loudly behind him. His eyes shut and his head tossed while the car swayed and rocked.

Jude, his driver and loyal friend smirked, “You must like this one...or is there a pile of meat up in that apartment that I need to fetch? I can call Riggan the pig farmer in the Lockyer Valley, anything left over he can throw in Wivenhoe dam.”

August sighed and chuckled, "She's alive and well. No sweet treat for Coles piggies...but...I need you and Wesley to look into the Pig she has been accompanying."

Jude smiled and leaned over, clicking the button of the glove box compartment. Inside was a yellow envelope. August's eyes fluttered before his face broke out into a grin.

"You are a fine friend Jude," he said as he plucked the envelope and spilled the printed notes out onto his lap, "Do you ever sleep? Jesus mate."

The raven hair man giggled and started the car to a silent hum.

As the driver put a hand behind Augusts car seat and reversed the car out onto the main roads he smugly said, "I take pride in investigating, especially bastards like him."

August's fingers flicked through the pages of graphic intel. With racing eyes he soaked up the words and photos. Lloyd Hansen...an absolute moron. His nose flared at what he was reading. He grit his teeth. Especially when he recognised a name in bold he hadn't thought about in at least half a decade.

"Well, well, well, he's got kittens for sale," August scoffed.

Jude hummed, "And meddles in the dogs pack, it would seem little Nicky is out of the jailhouse."

Both men smirked. But August was by no means pleased.

He was grumbling to himself. You were now sticking your toes into the deep end of the pool without floaties and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to catch you in time for the dunk.

Entering his club, sneaking in with the detective, he didn’t think you were dumb enough to think you’d distract him... He read through your charade the moment his eyes laid down on you from above walking in with that man.

His eyes and ears were turning red.

It was tricky but thankfully he had the means to warning that cop not to touch what belongs to him...however how close could he really get to that bastard without potential outlash. He knew he needed to order another grandeur meeting. While everyone was in town, it might be his only opportunity.

When August forced you to watch the murder of the embezzler, he had every hoping intention that it would persuade you to never talk to the cop again. A normal undercover pig would’ve stopped the show then and there, called back up.

But there was no back up...no...there was only sweet little innocent you and your pathetic phone camera. If Lloyd was after information he would’ve wired you up...Lloyd wasn’t there for him...he was there for some selfish reason...

When you ran off and pulled the alarm a dozen things went through his head. You were going to get yourself killed if you kept running. So he chased you. If the other men of his circle saw August Walker hunting, they would have been inclined to hunt you down too. And if they caught you...they would have done more than rip your head off.

He couldn’t tell you. He wasn’t sure how. You were already distrusting and scared of him there was no way he would be able to explain all the details and with your pure heart, you wouldn’t understand his world and why his side of the fence did such heinous things.

But...he would keep you safe. He wanted to gain your trust while not mistaking his authority...he knew what he had done was traumatizing.

He was no stranger to rape. Especially the european parties...those special events where he would join his friends like Kenny Strong and Arthur Kingsley ran the highlife of elite gentlemen and some lucky women born into those elite families. He wasn’t entirely fond of the practice. He didn’t like to beat women, but he did love to tie them up and humiliate them to tears.

Something about crying made his cock hard- no, something about you crying did...

He made you cry and he tried to bend you to his whims...he had already begun the conditioning where you would call him Daddy to gain his affection and praise. It pleased him significantly. He would shield you from those terrible memories even if it meant torturing you into talking about them. Externalising, confessing, it was all a form of therapy and he knew he had finally cracked the surface of your mind. He wouldn’t break you but he would chop at you and cut the mould. He would heal you. He would rebuild you and give you all the happiness you could ever want.

Sitting back and shoving those papers into the glove box he licked his bottom lip in thought.

When he woke up that morning, he watched you sneak out of the room. He smiled and amused himself. He watched the cameras from his phone. You were in his room...now that was very silly...he watched you choose his shirt and his shorts. He bit his lip to hold back a laugh. You looked so confident but so ...innocent...particular. He watched you grab a knife from the kitchen, he half heartedly believed you were coming back to stab him.

When your hands reached for the glass doors he launched up. He hadn’t warned you about Kal and he knew that dog could rip a man up, probably kill you easily if his fangs cause your wrist or neck.

He wanted to spank you and fuck you hard until you screamed mercy for trying to run away.

Rather he chose a simpler and easier punishment, one you essentially consented to the night before. Watching you suck cock was an interesting spectacle. There was a certainty you’d never done it before or not that many times before.

As you gagged on his cock with those big beautiful eyes of yours, he imagined all the things he’d buy for you...all the things he’d do for you... You might’ve been on your knees but something screamed at him to serve you as a slave.

Jude broke the silence eventually. He smirked, “So, am I right? You like this one?”

August smirked back, “’Like’ isn’t a word I’d be using.” He was fucking obsessed.

09:06am Monday 19th August 2023, Woolloongabba, Brisbane

You didn’t make a call. You couldn't. August broke your phone as you recalled.

You showered and scrubbed your face until you could feel the slight peel of your skin. It stung, but it was better than the sting you felt from the memory of his cum over you...in your mouth. You brushed your teeth for probably fifteen minutes just to erase the muscle memory of his cock brushing the back of your throat.

You changed out of August’s clothes and threw them into the bin. You couldn’t take off the collar and it made you feel suffocated. The kitchen scissors managed to scratch up the leather but the metal ring that encased inside was too strong.

You shook your head and felt nausea rise in your belly again. Without any food, all that came out was bile and acidic spit. You fell to your bedroom floor and started hitting the carpet, awful noises of grief and need bellies from you. You felt strangled. You huffed and spat random threats and insults, pretending he was there to hear them...he...August or your father? It didn’t matter.

You clenched your fist and smacked your head trying to regain your thoughts.

You kicked your dresser and rose from the floor. You found your bus pass and left the apartment, walking out in some jeans and a loose tshirt with a pair of running shoes.

The bus trip wasn’t a far trip to the police station.

You didn’t have the intention to report the kidnapping. No, no...now you were pissed off. You were scorned more than once by men around you. There was only one person you could trust in this world.

“Hi,” said the administration clerk, “How can we try an help today?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes, 'oh bitch if only you knew.'

“I’m after Detective Lloyd Hansen, is he here?”

You needed to confirm if the man was still alive. When you pulled the alarm, things were run or die in that moment. You hoped the man had the wit to run instead of confront the mafia or whatever this criminal group was.

The office was feeling slower today. It was filled with idle chatter and coffee machines grinding beans and a printer scanning documents.

“Do you have an appointment today?” she hummed, tapping at her keyboard.

You blinked and your teeth sneered.

You almost strangled that worker with the telephone cord. No. You didn’t have an appointment.

You just wanted to see he was alive. To tell him you were alive...and to collect your fifteen thousand promised reward for your “services”.

Your hands uncontrollably slapped on the desk cause the admin clerk to roll a little away in their office chair.

“I want to see the detective, now.”

“It’s alright Sandra...I can see her...” Lloyd said behind you. You flipped around. He was coming out of a small cubicle.

He looked...tired...shocked...relieved. it was all over how he looked with his loose tie, bags under his eyes and the clench of his hands on some paperwork.

He slowly stood to you and guided you away from the service desk. He whispered, “The white corolla...I’m about to finish shift.”

09:14am Monday 19th August 2024, Sunnybank, Brisbane.

You remembered his car well. The day he drove you home, you were so scared and confused. That day you’d reported that August may have sexually assaulted you...that day he definitely did...

This time you weren’t waiting in the cold for Lloyd, the sun was hot and beating down.

He came jogging down the front stairs of the station and hastily unlocked the car.

You wordlessly slipped in and buckled up.

When he got in he slammed his door a little too hard. He pressed his face to the top of his wheel and swore softly.

“I thought,” he swallowed nervously and sat up to look you up and down, “I thought he really had killed you. I tried calling thirty fuckin times these last two days. What happened? Were you hiding?”

Two days....god...you had been gone, missing, for that long?! Missing Friday...return Sunday.

You shook your head, “I was the one who pulled the alarm Lloyd...he knew what we were doing...he was going to kill you. When I made a run for it like everyone else in the club, he managed to track me down...he...” you trailed off unsure if you wanted to repeat the actions, the words, the confession.

Licking your lips you said, ��August Walker is a dead man walking...and...” your stomach started to growl, “I’m starved, and I’m sorry to be bitchy but you...you at least owe me a meal Lloyd.”

Two days...you had only a few pieces of chicken in two days. No wonder you felt like total crap.

Lloyd didn’t argue. He took you straight away to the closest fast food drive thru. You ordered so much and Lloyd didn’t dispute a single item. He settled for a simple burger, fries and larger soft drink.

Lloyd drove you both to the kangaroo point lookout, it wasn't too far from where you already live. You stared out at the city buildings and Brisbane River with a strained sigh.

You chewed silently on a nugget for a moment before you explained what happened. How you were caught, how you almost got away...

“Jesus,” Lloyd rubbed his eyes and sighed, “I...I think I...I’m sorry I took you for granted Y/N. When I left the building I search everywhere for you. I thought...well- I didn’t know what to think.”

You munched on a handful of fries, you didn’t care if you looked like a pig as you did it. Stuffing your cheeks full of a burger and then a massive gulp of an extra large drink. You swallowed and thrived off the heart burn aching in your chest, reminding you you’ve eaten too quickly.

You burped and then softly moaned, “I need to feel safe.”

“You need to move...Y/N please,” The begging in his tone was loud and clear. There was serious fear in Lloyd.

You wouldn’t submit to August Walker and you refused to run from him. You were now met with the choice...you were either going to destroy his reputation or literally destroy him....your blood pumped loudly. He made you talk about your father....your fucking father...and on top of that, he made you call him daddy.

What mind fucked you was how you were yet again able to walk away...not unscathed but definitely alive.

“No,” you dismissed unwrapping your second burger, “He will find me...I know he will...and even if he kept me alive both times, a third is pushing my lucky, I know you understand that.”

Lloyd shook his head at you and put his hand over your burger, stopping your next starved bite, he hissed “You think staying where you are is safer? You don’t know-“

“Lloyd!” You snapped, you slapped his hand back and shoved your pointer finger into your chest, you sucked down a shakey breath, “...I know...I do know. I need to protect myself when he strikes again...it’s worse now...I have too much collateral... He let me witness that murder in the club.”

The detective raised his brows at you, “You mean...” the blood drained from his face.

“Cameras were in the VIP rooms Lloyd,” you grit your teeth and glared at the view of the city buildings, “I saw a lot more than just a fucking man’s brains being blown out from his skull, hookers, coke... Auctions...he’s got it all in The Lion Lounge.”

The detective rest his fingers on his top lip. He was slowly nodding.

You sucked down a long drag of your straw and gasped, asking in the same breath, “Lloyd I want a gun. I won’t let him rape me again.”

You needed the protection from August or any man he sent to kill you.

Lloyd chewed his bottom lip and shook his head.

“Do you have a gun license?”

“Do I look like I have one?” you snipped. You knew it wasn’t fair on him for your attitude but you didn’t have the time to focus on his hurt feelings in regards to your mental health and physical safety.

“Have you ever even shot one?”

“Nope. But it only takes one shot to kill him close up.” You threw the wrapper out of his car window and rubbed your face.

If he didn’t come near you, he would be safe, and you could just work on collecting evidence for the courts.

The detective sucked his bottom lip and shook his head, “It’s too dangerous.”

“Oh piss off!” You stomped your foot and twisted your body to face him, you grabbed his loose tie and tugged it as you seethed, “Lloyd, you practically thrust me into his arms and you have the gall to say now, me owning a gun is ‘too dangerous’?”

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled his tie out of your fingers as he shook his head at you. His nose flared and he started to raise his voice at you, spit flying from his mouth as he hit the wheel with the palm of his hand. You expected a detective to hold a little more composure.

“Fine. Fine! But are you really willing to go to prison for life if you do manage to kill him? Think about this logically.”

His eyes were wide and his brows twisted with worry.

You fell quiet. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stamp your foot again and scream that you’d spend two lifetimes behind bars if it meant his demise...except...was your demise worth the cost of his? Would you drown with him in the end of all of this if you killed him.

You noisily sucked at your straw.

“No...” you whispered, you didn’t want to cry in front of Lloyd but your tears were coming up, beading in the dips of your lids.

“No, that’s right,” Lloyd rubbed your shoulder with his thumb, “He isn’t worth it.”

Your lip pouted, “Why can’t you just...arrest him.”

He sighed and rubbed your back as you started to break down into pathetic frustrated sobs.

“Lawyers, laws and money,” he whispered and fluttered his eyes shut, “He has his ways. The only way we can take him down is if he is caught doing the hefty, big crimes. If I could’ve gotten the proof of the weapon dealers he would’ve been considered accomplice to the crime.”

“S-so if...if you..” you wiped you snotty nose on the back of your arm, “If he was caught on camera...he’d be sent to prison?” You started to laugh mechanically, “What if...what if I let him rape me. A nanny cam on my night stand or something?”

The office shook his head for the dozenth time, “By the law that wouldn’t be considered rape...only a messed up porno, especially if they see you set up the camera.”

Your fingers aggressively clenched another handful of fries, you didn’t eat them, you just threw them back into the bag.

“...I...what do I do Lloyd?” A fear of hopelessness tapped your brain.

He was quiet for a solid minute. He stared at you all over. You knew the bruise on your face was visible. He kept looking at your cheek instead of your eyes. And his gaze fell down to your neck. “It’s a collar Lloyd...he chained me to a bed for two days...”

His lips parted and with a impatient voice he asked, “Do you have a gym membership?”

“No? Why?”

He started his car and made you put your seat belt back on, “Okay, I don’t care, you’re getting one, right now."

Your eyes shrunk, “Why?”

Lloyd gruffly snarled, “Because I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

He would teach you at least some self defence. August might’ve been twice your size but if you could get the chance to get away...Lloyd would make sure you would take it..

05:30pm Monday 19th August 2024, East Brisbane Anytime Fitness Gym, Brisbane.

“Again.”

Your back hit the padded wall, your knees hit the floor as you cupped your middle and tried not to puke up the fast food from earlier.

“We have been at this for three hours!” You groaned, trying to use the foam wall to stand up again.

You were convinced Lloyd liked to beat you around, the red marks and bruises that were rising were the evidence.

“Until you can take me down,” Lloyd nudged you with his hand causing you to almost fall back down, “We aren���t leaving.”

You hissed angrily and stood up tall “Fuck sake.”

You held up your arms like he showed you. He started throwing his blows, you blocked him with your forearms and ducked away from his large swipes. He kicked your ankle and watched you crumble to the ground again.

“Watch your feet.” He scolded, “You are smaller and surprisingly speedy, use that to your advantage!”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. Getting to your feet you pushed up and launched your body at Lloyd who was checking out one of the yoga classes in the other room window.

He crashed to the floor. Your knees straddled his hips as you huffed with glee, “Ha! Home time!” your palms rested on his naked sweaty chest.

He chuckled and shook his head. He pushed you up by your hips. He shut his eyes, panting, “Again...then home time.”

You grumpily groaned, “Fine!” your ribs hurt bad and your knees felt swollen.

It was agreed by you both that if you needed to reach out you needed to use a burner phone or a payphone. Any calls or emails were going to be noticed.

When you felt the spray of the hot shower water at home, you cried. It felt good. You touched the collar still around your throat. Training to protect yourself reminded you the pain was worth it.

10:16am Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD

“Mr Luther, I’m so sorry for not calling in sick,” You wrung your hands in front of your boss, “Please forgive me for the unwarned absence.”

“Please!” He laughed heartedly, “I just assumed you were clicking some more photos!” He stood out from his chair and sat on his desk above you, “Did you hear about Walkers club almost burning down?”

Looking down at your lap, you reminded yourself that Mister John Luther was not a man included in the circle of trust. Nor were you convinced he understood the severity of the crimes the criminals he wanted to chase for gossiping stories committed. Your hand touched the ends of the scarf you wore, covering up the hideous black leather around your neck. You tried all morning to cut it off with a pair of scissors but you came to feel the metal circlet inside and gave up. There was a hole in one of the bottom cabinets where you had kicked in a hole...that was okay, you had an extra fifteen thousand pounds in your bank account.

You assumed Lloyd finally sent the money through.

“Did it?” you coyly asked.

“No clue how damaged the place was but the massive party was cancelled. The fire engines went zooming down this street Friday night.”

“What happens now then?” You glanced up at him and chewed the inside of your cheek, “With the smuggling case?”

“Put on hold for now,” he sighed and squeezed your shoulders, “I don’t have any sources about the next possible meet and greet. I was hoping you could keep the same production rolling. I have a new project involving a Nicholas Tortano. I want to get an interview with him.”

You didn’t recognise the name at all. Your fingers pinched at your long sleeve shirt. “An interview?”

Luther nodded, he winked and went back to his desk draw, slapping out a manilla folder.

He rubbed and clapped his hands, pushing and opening the new case to you.

“He has a history of his employed persons going missing. He has criminal history ties with Irish gangs and the italian mafia. I have a page of questions, I would like someone to ask him.”

You cleared your throat, “Me?”

Wagging his finger the elder man laughed, “No one has quite the balls as you deary...”

It sounded...Too dangerous.

“In that case,” you shuffled forward in your chair, “Can I be paid upfront for this job?”

You would not die at the hands of one gangster when you had your eyes set on another. Luther almost looked like he was going to tell you to get the fuck out of his office until he looked at your photos of August you’d taken. He was quickly reminded you had the best skills and to lose you would be suicide for his paper... You were the best thing to have happened to him. He accepted.

You sat in your work cubicle and aggressively jabbed at the key pad of your work phone. It’s not hard to find phone numbers. Nicholas Tortano had a nickname, “The Black Dog.” He was caught by paparazzi coming out of court a few times. His business empire related to charities. He was a philanthropist with a dirty history of crime connections. He had only been found guilty of third degree murder but many news articles in the past twenty years all labelled him as a omen of death, because anyone that had done him wrong was found dead not too long after...

You found the phone number and took a lucky gulp. There wasn’t an address for any business so if no one picked up, you were worried Idris might fire you for that mere disappointment alone.

The phone rung out once. You dialled again, the receiver picked up. You held your breath.

“Hello, Tortano and associates, who is calling?” the masculine tone soothed out.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a journalist from the local paper. Is there a chance I may be able to book an interview with Nicholas Tortano?”

There was a steady silence and a soft hum, “What does this pertain to?”

You rubbed your eyes and looked over the notes Luther had given you in the folder, “....People think he is ‘a mass murdering psycho with a thirst for crime’, I’m hoping to ask him some questions to seek the truth.”

“How ludicrous,” the man chuckled, “I am a gentleman. A businessman. Not a criminal.”

You strained over the phone as you spoke to the secretary, “I am sure but this is in regards to Mister Tortano.”

The phone went quite again, you thought maybe you’d lost the connection.

The sweet condescending waved through the sound, “I am he...are you free today for lunch?”

With widened eyes your voice caught in your throat. You felt like an idiot...you never imagined he would answer the call to his own company. CEOs never answer the call of a civilian first hand...

You cleared your throat and nervously clicked a pen, “I am, where would you like to conduct this meeting.”

You could hear him click something too. He sounded warm, and inviting on the phone, “Do you like Italian? Have you ever heard of Vapianos?”

A tiny smile touched your lips. When was the last time you were asked out to lunch? Your eyes rolled, for fuck sake, this was a job...not a date.

“I don’t mind it.”

11:54pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD, Vapianos.

Nick Tortano had invited you to a side of town with skyrise buildings. The Vapianos restaurant was on the bottom floor of some massive buildings.

You wrapped your scarf around your neck again. The leather was tight around your throat. It was like he was there with you...holding you...as you cried over a father that you loved and hated.

You shook your head and looked down at the notebook and piece of paper you were given by Luther.

You looked around at the tables and the waiters. The place was sparkling with a quality of...the wealthy and corporate. The palm leaves, the tinted glass windows that raced from floor to ceiling, the champagne glasses on a nearby table. It was all glorious decoration.

All the people there were beautiful...not a single appearance that resembled you...a pauper.

The awkward steps you took towards the receptionist resembled a weak lamb. You felt stupid for being there.

The server looked you up and down and it caused a sting to any confidence you had left. You touched your scarf.

“Hello, I’m looking for a Mister Tortano we have a meet-”

A hand glided across your back, you jumped a little and became confronted with a pair of dark brown orbs and handsome white teeth, “Hello, Miss Y/N.”

Nicholas...he was tall and wearing a simple sweater. Despite his causality he held an air of regality. Not to be overly romantic but you felt he would be a stunning prince if he was a royal member.

“I hope you don’t mind but I’ve had them set a table already.”

He held out an arm to you.

“Not at all,” You flushed and happily accepted it. You tucked it around and let him lead you carefully to a table. There was a set of plates and two wine glasses.

“Just give me a second or two to set up, is it alright if I tape your voice?” you asked reaching into your handbag.

He pulled out a chair for you and explained, “I would prefer no tapes, but I’m not adverse to photography.”

It wasn’t an unusual request. Lots of people didn’t like the sound of their voice. He must’ve been one of them.

It didn’t matter, photos were more your talents anyway.

“In that case, may I take the photos first and then perform the interview?”

He nodded and flashed a bigger beautiful smile.

“Where would you like me?”

You pulled out a office camera from your bag, you didn’t have time to go home and grab one of your ten others. You started to turn it on.

“If you could look away from the lens, relax your shoulders, lean back and look like you’re thinking. No smiling.”

“Do I look ugly with a smile?” he cheekily asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. He was charming and flirtatious and incredibly handsome.

“Terribly,” you teased, “No, my boss would just prefer a little more seriousness I believe. To make the page appear professional...plus the topic regarding the article with a smiling photo you’d look like a madman.”

He nodded promisingly and fell into the pose. When he heard the camera clicked a small smirk pulled at his lips before quickly trying to compose his face.

When the photos were finished you stuffed the camera back in your bag. He relaxed from his falsified stern appearance.

Now came the interview. You pulled out the sheet of questions Idris provided. Under no circumstances were you meant to ask anything but these....except....the questions....well...they were...

“So, you...ugh...hold on a moment....”

How many people have you killed?

What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle?

Are you a homosexual?

What the fuck?! You weren’t even sure if you were legally allowed to ask these questions due to discrimination laws.

“Um...I...”

He smiled at you from across the table. You felt a pearl of sweat forming on your forehead.

“Stage fright?” Nick asked softly, tilting his head. He snapped his finger and a waiter came over and poured water into two cups. A basket of breadsticks were placed in the centre.

“No, well...yes...um. the questions I’m meant to ask you I stupidly didn’t read before coming here...” your cheeks felt warm. The embarrassment rose fast.

“So they’re not your questions?” his eyebrows lifted. His finger traced the lip of his glass.

“They’re my boss’s but I said I would ask them.”

Nicholas' lips parted back into a smile, “Enlighten me, I will be less offended knowing they’re not from you.”

You smoothed the paper out on the table and pulled out a notepad, clicking a pen after finding the least offensive one you licked your bottom lip and stuttered, “How...how would you describe yourself?”

He sighed and held the cup to his lips, “Vain, rich with a dominating grace.”

Those weren’t usual qualities someone described themselves as, usually people preferred to remain humble and soften their reality. It was an interesting new perception to attach to Nicholas Tortano the criminal who covered his wrong doings with funding medicine for sick children.

You noted it and looked at the page again to try and find another less offensive question. Frantically your finger scrolled down all the words. Your heart started to pick up. These were so ridiculous and disgusting. Right I go the jaws of the black dog- that’s what Luther had done to you.

You shyly laughed, “hmm, I...let me...-”

Nick slapped the cup back on the table. His smile had fallen, “Politely, Miss Y/N I don’t like my time to be wasted...how about you hand me that piece of parchment.”

He reached over with lightning speed. He pinch the paper and dragged it to him.

“Hey!-”

“Now now, here’s what we will do,” he peaked up at you and licked his bottom lip, “I’ll answer these questions and so will you.”

You lifted your chin and looked at him cautiously.

“But they’re not for me.”

“That doesn’t matter, I can see you’re nervous darling...so...let’s break tension.”

He trailed his thumb down the page and sighed, “Let’s see...ah yes I see how these would make you less inviting to involve yourself.”

After a moment he glanced and smirked at the questions, god you could throttle Luther right now for letting you go through this stupid interview.

“How many years did it take you to be where you are now as one of the most notorious crimelords?”

You tried to put on your best smile, “...yesterday...I stole this scarf...” you lied.

“Why Miss Y/N you must be a terrible influence!” He feigned a gasp of horror which made you lightly giggle, “I don’t label myself as a crime lord. As over the phone I stated simply, I’m a business man...my business so happens to involve crime. I’ve been in this business since I was thirteen years old. My first offence was Car theft. That was almost twenty years ago.”

Your throat shut. He was in his forties!? The damn bastard had the option of early 30s or maybe 20s if he shaved off his stubble entirely.

He looked between your face and your hands, “Are you going to write that down or do I have to do that too?”

You blinked and jumped with a start of noting down the new information, “Oh yes! Sorry!” Scribbling quickly you watched him, watching you...he was staring...like you were...something unusual.

“How many sentences have you been charged with?”

You shrugged unsure why you felt ashamed to say, “None.”

The pen in your hand twirled as the handsome gentleman scratched his nose, “Too many...in all up it has kept me behind bars for nine years total but I’ve been in and out for years. I only returned to the public eye a month ago.”

“Woah,” you whispered.

Nine years? A month? You didn’t have a lot of time to research him considering the call for lunch was so quick and speedy.

His fingers tapped the table softly. He shrugged, “Its not as bad as tellie makes it out to be...in fact it’s a way to network well. You can learn lots of new tricks when you’re forced into tight confinement.”

You started to take dot points. It’s interesting...being in prison for nine years...not all together but all total. Making connections and friends inside prison didn’t really click at first. You always assumed prison was a scary and lonely cell where you had to pee in front of everyone.

Nick looked back at the page and laughed, he rubbed his mouth and shook his head, “Are you a homosexual?”

You also laughed but it was more a awkward shyness, “No, I think I’m bisexual if anything but strictly gay I’m not. I can’t understand why that question would be even asked, I’m so sorry.” You grit your teeth and looked away.

He tilted his hand and shrugged, “It’s vicious rumour that I’m a pillow biter...I am not a homosexual.”

Its all he said. And that was something you really didn’t like writing down...it was so unnecessary.

“What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle? Miss Y/N don’t tell me you sell drugs?” he giggled and folded the paper back a little.

'Jesus Christ'Luther!!!...you really wanted me to ask that!?' Your fists clenched under the table.

You dismissed it and grinned, “No, I do not. Sorry to be so boring....you?”

“Paracetamol,” he answered, “I can sell you some right now, I like to keep some nearby.”

Anyone could sell paracetamol...he deliberately said that, you knew.

“After the interview I think I might just,” you laughed and rubbed a little at your temple.

“How many people have you killed?”

You gasped. Your chest was like a loud metal band concert with your heart as the instrument racked, you didn’t understand how that was possible.

“None.” Well...your father....maybe...Nick didn’t need to know about that.

The philanthropic crime lord aka ‘businessman’ remained totally silent. Your hand paused.

“Are you not going to answer the question?...”

He put the paper down and plucked the menu, he unfolded the cardboard covered in matte black and gold designs, he looked down at the wine selection, “I think you might need to do something for me to answer that.”

“What?” you wanted to say you’d do it. But why would you promise anything to a man with his bad record.

“I’d need you to kill someone. And you don’t strike me as a murderer Miss Y/N.” His dark gaze flickered up at you, “Now...what would you like to eat?”

You bit your lip. He’s definitely killed before, or else he would’ve just said no. He wanted to you to know he was a murderer...you knew because his eyes remained perfectly still as he said it. No tremble or lying shame in those pupils.

You sat forward and drank a bit of your water.

Perhaps meeting Nick wasn’t just a benefit for the paper gossip. Maybe he could help you...you heard his voice ask you another question, probably about the menu, you do not remember...instead your thoughts tumbled out of your lips.

“....do you sell weapons Mister Tortano?”

The question caught him off guard. They weren’t on the paper your boss provided.

“Weapons?” he asked cautiously.

Shit, you had gone too far now to recall your thoughts, “Would you sell a gun to a woman even if she doesn’t have a license?”

His eyes sparkled.

“Whatever would you want a gun for Miss Y/N?” he leant back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his lips.

You tried to explain, but it was hard. You looked over your shoulder. It was too public to be discussing this. You whispered, “... There’s a rat who won’t leave me alone. I’d like to scare him...”

His eyes narrowed a little at your speech. He knew you weren’t being literal, so he replied coolly, “Are you asking for a gun or pest control?”

You whispered again, “A gun.”

He fluttered, you could tell he was staring down your shit to check for a wire.and clapped his hands loudly. The entire restaurant went from idle chatter and laughter to utter silence...it was eery...like a dream or a nightmare.

Nick shouted at the top of his lungs, echoing off the walls, “Leave us!”

The entire assembly of guests started to rise from their chairs. They packed up their brief cases and hand bags. Abandoning the half eaten food and untouched wine and champagne. Your nose wrinkled. What the fuck... they were all heading to the stair well, ignoring the elevators.

You looked back at Nicholas, confused, wondering if he meant you to leave too...you pinched the table cloth worryingly.

“Have you thought it through?” Nick asked now that the restaurant was empty, and quiet.

“What?” you didn’t understand. The entire perception of Nick Tortano was collapsing. He was so powerful...all those people were his. All of them under his thumb...all of them so obedient...

“Do you intend on threatening or killing?”

You felt trapped by his words.

“That’s my business Mister Tortano, politely speaking...” how could you confess to your intentions.

It was bad enough that he knew you wanted a gun.

You wondered if there was any chance you you make a run to the doors and run away. You were stepping from one scary man to another at this point.

After a while of sitting ashamed in silence, he stood up from his chair. His fingers lazily brushed the table, until he paused in front of you. He dragged his hand under your chin. He made you look at him, standing above you. His hand violently tore off your scarf and he tutted, “Is he the one who put the collar on you? The man to cover you in bruises? Might need a better foundation darling...I’m not stupid. I’d like to know if it’s going to reflect back on me. What’s the chaps name?”

You didn’t like how personally close he was standing above you. You felt small and trembled beneath his pinning dark brown eyes...they were practically black like some soulless shark. His white teeth looked starved.

You lied again, “...Lloyd...Ha-Han-Hansen...” perhaps Lloyd could handle Nick? But how? He couldn’t handle August. You regretted saying his name but that was it...you threw the only friend you had under the bus.

“Hmmm can’t say I know him well...”

“He’s um...a lawyer,” you lied again.

He smirked and whispered, “Is he?” his eyes narrowed with a glint of mischief.

He flipped his cardigan sweater up, on his hip, inside tucked in his jeans was a scary black gun... A hand gun.

“Well I do hope you get what you want out of him,” he pulled out the gun and set it on the table in front of you, “Here, consider it a gift...I find your disposition incredibly pleasing...”

You glanced at the gun and felt a rush of something...adrenaline? Anxiety? Arousal? Something became alive...

“I need to go. I’m so sorry,” you rushed to stand up, you pinched the weapon and carefully tucked it into your hand bag, “I need to leave.”

This was too easy. Far too coincidental. Maybe this was your father's spirit watching over you?

“Until we meet again,” he chuckled and stood aside. You could hear his wickedly laughter as you fled to the doors. As the doors closed behind you, you could see in the distance, Nick standing by the windows smelling your scarf deeply. Your hand touched your throst and felt the jagged material. You weren't sure if you wanted to go back for the scarf. Watching him press his face into the soft material- the action was perverse...he was perverse...just like August. A mighty shiver rolled up your spine. You didn’t have time to worry about that.

You were filled with all the raw emotions of the last month. Anger, grief, revenge....

You now had a gun... The power to wield death easily. Now you just needed your chance.

You kept hearing Lloyd in the back of your mind...would killing August be worth your own life?

Especially life in prison.

You shoved it back and focused on the pain you felt, the agony as you cried in his lap under threats of his spanking. He wiped you when you used the toilet...he called you puppy...he forced you to cum and cry....he made you beg and suck his cock just to hold you...he treated you as a subhuman.

02:06pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane

You opened your front door, slamming it behind you. And as you started to slide the bolts and chains, you heard something down the hallway...a small crash? No? A grunt...

Angry eyes and a sneer grew on your face. You marched down, your father’s door was wide open.

And there the fucker was. August... Folding clothes into your father’s bed from a washing basket.

You saw red.

“Wh-what the fuck...get out!”

He lifted his head and finished folding a pair of your jeans, your head leaned back to your bedrooms opened door before you looked back at him inside your father's room.

“Your home is a mess,” He said nonchalantly, “I won’t have you stomping around in squalor.”

He had gone into your room and cleaned it. And on any given day, that would’ve earned a man a blowjob, not him though, no...he was in your space and invading your life too much.

With a flared nostril you snarled, “I am giving you five seconds to leave. Or I'll-”

He snickered at your defiant demand, “Or what? You’re going to call the cops?”

You didn’t want to kill him here...You dug into your hand bag and it felt impossibly slow and heavy in your hand. You pointer the gun at his head and fought the trembling in your body and your voice, “Or you’re going to choke on your own blood August.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t expect your display. He paused and continued to fold the laundry. You didn’t like being ignored and moved inside of your father’s room. It wouldn’t be the first time a man died in this room.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” He said without a single hint of fear.

You held the gun now in both hands. You stood strong and came closer around the bed.

You scoffed, “No, of course not, you manipulate me, drug me, hit me, and raped me but 'oh nooooo I won’t shoot you'?”

He smiled and shook his head slowly. He appeared so unafraid and that caused a spit of hate to hit your face. You wanted him to be on his knees, begging for his life, pleading for forgiveness while he pissed himself. This was not at all what you imagined, him folding the washing and sorting to find pairs of socks.

“One,” You said.

He sighed and threw your underwear back into the basket. He started to walk around the bed gradually.

You screeched, “Two, stay the fuck away from me!”

He stopped and raised his hands. Slowly he perched himself on the corner of your dad’s bed.

“Three,” you said a little shakily. He still didn’t flinch. You felt suffocated. Why wasn’t he scared?

You pissed in his lap when he pointed one at you in the club. This wasn’t fair.

Tears uncontrollably started to fall from your eyes. You didn’t want to kill him...god you hated him...but if he wasn’t going to beg you, you didn’t want to kill him. Especially in this room...besides ...what would you do with his body?

“F-four, don’t make me do this August!”

You moved closer and closer until the tip of the metal weapon pressed into his forehead.

It was now or never...“Pl-please, don’t...” you begged, hoping he would walk out of the room and apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut.

You pulled the trigger and screamed as you did it. The trigger didn’t move...it felt stuck. You pulled it again and nothing happened. You opened your eyes and noted how the gun hadn’t gone off and August was still happily breathing with a dark, sadistic grin on his moustached lips.

“Five...” he hummed and wrapped his palm around the barrel, pulling it up and tugging it away from your trembling hands, “your safety is still on, and...” He clicked off the top and sighed, “It’s not even loaded.”

You crashed to your knees and vomited right over his leather shoes. You weren’t prepared for the rush of exhaustion to hit you. Your body shook. Your fingers clenched the soaked carpet. The metal of the unloaded gun lifted your chin up. Tears ran down your cheeks beautifully.

“Tell me, did the piggy give this to you?”

Your swollen lips blubbered, “No!” Lloyd didn’t need any more wicked men following him around.

You shut your eyes and sniffled. Surely August would kill you. This must’ve been some sort of a strike three, yes?

“Then where did you get your paws on one of these?...” he bit his smile lip.

“A friend...” it wasn’t a total lie. Nick liked you, you somewhat found him intriguing. Yes you’d only met that day...but he was a friend now for a moment in your mind.

August pulled you up into his lap by your hair. Hot lips pressed into your neck and nuzzling your ratty leather collar, “You were really going to kill me...weren’t you?” he cooed as you started to sniffle and choke on your tears, “You pulled that trigger. I underestimated you sweetness...don’t worry. I won’t punish you for that.”

He cupped the back of your head, pulling you in for a big kiss. His lips soft, but his hand tight and filled with dominance.

You felt light. He was kissing you just after you vomited. Gross.

He pulled away and spat at the floor, he chuckled and pressed his nose against yours.

“In fact...I got you a gift.”

You whined and fluttered your eyes, “I don’t want a gift from you.”

You weren’t mentally prepared for any sick sexual torture he had in store for you. You could see his jaw shift and his eyes dash back and forth.

“Are you sure? I think you’ll like it.”

Your hands touched the collar hopefully. Maybe it was the key?

He slid his hands under your armpits. You heard your bag hit the dry side of the floor.

He lifted you with ease to your feet and pressed a hand at the small of your back, pushing you to the bathroom.

He was so huge compared to you. The lower ceiling made you have a flash of worry...what if he hit his head?

He was fine.

He turned on the shower and peeled away your clothes. He wasn’t rough, and he wasn’t leering...he was soft...and patient. He pushed your long sleeved shirt up and gasped at the sight of bruises Lloyd created from the gym. His thumb unkindly pressed into one. You whined and tried to step away but your ass pressed into the vanity sink.

He knew he hadn’t given you these.

“And who has my puppy been playing rough with? Don’t tell me you’ve spread your legs for someone else now...”

He turned you around slowly, inspecting the marks he had not made on your skin. His hands palmed over your flesh.

The steam from the shower began to whaf out. You tried to not imagine the water bill ticking up.

He pinched your bra off and watched your arms circle to cover your chest.

He turned you back to face him. Unbuttoning your jeans, he tugged them down and helped take off your shoes. He pressed his lips to a bruise on your outer thigh. The temptation to throw your knee into his throat was great.

His hand cupped the back of your knee. His nose was so close to your underwear covered pussy, you could feel his hot breath tickling your clit.

Your panties were gradually pulled down to your ankle and you used his shoulder for balance as you stood out of the flimsy material.

He stood back and opened the shower door for you. He left the bathroom door open and you didn’t want to risk a punishment for locking him out. He took your clothes to the laundry and heard him open your cleaning supply closet where you kept a mop and broom and vacuum cleaner.

As you soaped your body, the suds building along your skin and back you sighed. The collar rubbed against your neck. It was a reminder...

He was powerful. He was scary and you were risking death. You had just tried to kill him...at any moment he could bash your head in until your skull caved, no one would find you for days...maybe weeks...he said he wouldn’t kill you but that was before you pulled a gun on him.

You were angry at yourself...angry at Ben....why would the gun be empty?! Couldn’t Nick have told you that? Maybe he assumed you knew how to handle one...

August came back into the bathroom after ten minutes of cleaning. You didn’t dare to leave the shower in that time.

He was back. And now...he was naked. You uncontrollably worried and pressed your back into the bathroom tile. He stood into the shower, stealing the hot spray when it hit his back.

He was so hairy, and huge. He was like a bear.

You gulped and glanced at his dick. He was flaccid but you knew he could fuck you with a soft dick or just his hands alone.

He held out his hand and whispered, “The soap, please.”

Your hand shook as you shakily handed over the small white bar. It was the cheapest shit on the shelves you could find.

Now you regretted not spending the money you saw in your bank account. You would die feeling poor.

You tried to cover your nakedness. A hand between your thighs. You felt the bareness and cringed your face. He would’ve waxed you again or shaved while you were ‘in his care’ after the club incident.

The huge man started to rub the soap along his thighs and his arms and chest.

He smelt of your vomit...he cleaned it up for you...his clothes...you could hear the laundry machine.

He either was cleaning evidence or he was staying the night.

His face...was soft. He wasn’t angry...he was deep in thought... He was pleased. The faintest of smiles was on his furry face.

When he was finished. He touched your waist and pressed you to turn around him in the cubicle. Now the hot water covered your shivering skin. He rubbed some more soap into his hands and rubbed the bubbled into your skin. Along the back of your neck he rubbed and pinched. A tiny moan imminently slipped from your lips. You hoped he hadn’t heard it.

He did...

You knew he was gliding his hands down to your bottom and rubbing the darkened skin he planted when he spanked you. You hissed and softly swore as his thumb pressed in. A small threat, a warning? A reminder...

He touched you everywhere except your tits and your cunt...which shocked you as you braced from his hands every time they drew near those areas. The sense of denial played in your mind.

Your body felt warm...humming as it was teased.

He did touch the leather around your neck and tutted at the parts you damaged with scissors, where the metal you couldn’t cut poked out.

Turning the shower off, August opened the door again and guided you out onto the soft floor mat. He took a towel from the vanity draw and wrapped it over your shoulders like you were some kid at the beach.

He wrapped a towel around his waist. His body dripping and soaking into the edge.

You were poked out of the room and made to go into your room. Your dad’s door was still open however and that made you uncomfortable.

On your bed...was a box....

The gift...was an actual gift!? It was wrapped in white and gold paper with a pink tulle ribbon around it.

You shifted your towel around to wrap yourself in and looked between the man leaning on the doorway and the wrapped box on your bed.

He nodded to it. Open it. A silent command.

Your curled your lips into your mouth as you pulled the tulle ribbon away and scratched the paper back.

A deep gasp left your chest, “A phone?...”

It was one of the newest if the models you used. This type of phone usually cost three thousand dollars!

Behind you the awful man laughed softly, “For stepping on the one from the club.”

The tiny smile that was coming to your lips, disappeared. If he hadn’t reminded you of that night, you might’ve kept smiling. Your fist clenched. You were angry. Did he know how scared you were as you ran in the dark? Did he know you hated him even more because of this gift. This wasn’t a gift, this was a bribe...

Your jaw ticked and you turned on your heel, you held your towel tightly, “I am not saying thankyou.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, he tilted his head to the side and wagged a finger at you, “I swear every time I see you, you become twice as fiery.”

When he stood forward you got scared and tripped back and fell onto your bed. The phone box slid to the floor. Your heart raced. You noted how you accidentally flashed him as the towel fell from your hands.

He paused, not moving any further. He could see how frightened you were. And if you didn’t know any better...he didn’t want to scare you today.

His smile fell and he sighed, “Before I forget...your sex toy arrived.”

You crept off your bed as he left the door way. He was quickly back before you could make an escape.

He held a box and threw it to you. Without thought you let go of your towel and caught the box with the erotic images and product on it.

Stark nude and wet you stood. You turned away from him and put the box with your newly bought toy on the bed. You put your phone box beside it.

He was watching you with bird eyes as you tried to pick up the towel and cover yourself again.

“So let me see,” he hummed, he crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue, “First you threaten to kill me,” he pushed away from the door, “You then attempt to actually kill me,” and he shakes his head chuckling, “and now I find out my cock isn’t enough to satisfy? Good heavens...have I neglected my greedy little puppy?”

Your hands lifted... Your towel was loose but you had tucked it to your body. You prepared your fighting stance like how Lloyd showed you.

“Get out...” you spat.

“No,” he smirked, “I will not.” He launched forward.

He grabbed your towel and you slipped from the material. You ran around his body, ripping his towel off as you ran out.

You slipped on water droplets in the hall and slid down the hall to the kitchen.

As he came around the corner, you flung a cupboard door open hard that smacked his hard in the face. You smiled hearing his painful groan.

"Fuck!"

He pushed it back and tried to grab you as you ran around the mini island. You threw his towel at his face as you made a rush back to your room. You managed to lock a chain and bolt on the bedroom door. You panicked and climbed under your pathetic single bed. You heard him behind the wood.

“Open up little puppy...or I’m gonna huff...” he said, “and then I’ll puff...”

When you made no sign of opening the door and remaining beneath the bedframe. The door burst open. The locks tore through the metal nook. He walked through. He nakedly crouched by the side of the bed and sighed at you curled up under your bed. He shook his head and softly smiled. He laid flat on the floor beside you.

“Watcha doin down there sweetness?”

You felt a breath escape you. A soft laugh. Was he fucking serious?!

“Hiding,” you mumbled into your wrists.

He fluttered his eyes shut. His hand rested on his Bare stomach.

“Well I found you, so you might as well come out. You’re black and blue. I don’t want to drag you over the carpet, don’t want rip up your knees pup.”

You couldn’t understand why he kept calling you that. You weren’t a puppy...you...you were human and you still weren’t sure how that pet name even fit you .

You knew he was right though, there was only way out and it didn’t matter. You would need to face him. If he wanted to kill you, nothing could’ve stopped him from strangling your throat. After a minute or two you finally gave in... Wiggling your butt from under the bed. He moved up to his knees. He watched you stick your head out and shimmy to the open air.

You knew trying to run out the door was useless and there was no other locks other than the front door. You rubbed your lips, staring at the broken locks and the door that hung off only one hinge...you really hated him...

His large soft hand rubbed your cheek and the back of your neck, cupping you closer to his body.

Both in your knees, he pulled you into his chest.

You pleaded softly, “Please...”

“Kiss me puppy,” he begged and looked down at your lips. You glanced to his eyes and shut yours as your pushed your face up.

He was gentle. His tongue poked Into your mouth and your lips closed. He kissed you and sucked on your bottom lip loudly. God it felt good. It felt hot and inviting. This kiss was like a deep hot bath or a cosy blanket. His hands squeezed your arms and cocooned you closer to his damp skin. You just wanted to wrap yourself in his body and sleep...except your body felt attacked by an invisible electricity, like a dozen bees rumbling down from your chest to the folds between your thighs.

Your could barely breathe.

When he pulled back he shuddered, “Are you turned on?”

You gasped, “No, why would I-”

“You’re trembling.”

“I’m scared,” your nose twitched and your gazed over his chest, feeling his cock twitch against your belly.

He chuckled and shook his head, he pressed a hard kiss against your cheek, “Merely two sides of the same coin...”

You whimpered and felt his hands smooth down your ass to your thighs. He lifted you up and pushed you onto your bed. You were at the same height now. Him kneeling on the floor with your sitting on your bed.

“You are safe, trust me,” he kissed your lips briskly, “Say it.”

“I...” you hesitated, “I am safe...and I trust you.”

His thumb pressed under your jaw, he kissed you again, “Good girl. I am not going to hurt you...truly...I promise.”

He dragged his lips down to your chest. He sucked in one of your tits. His lips smacked as he licked and sucked around your skin, you felt strange. Dirty but in a good way. Your own back curled to push into his mouth.

He pulled up after one satisfying suck, “That felt good yea?”

“S-so good,” you stuttered. Your cheeks felt warm it was like you were drunk but you knew you had a full sober conscious..

“Would you like to feel that again?” he asked, his hands ran up your thighs, spreading your knees.

You sighed as his thumb licked at your clit. You rocked your hip a little and whined. Fuck it felt good.

“Answer me puppy”

“I- oh god- I want to feel that again.”

He kissed your belly and pushed you back a little. Your head thudded against the wall. Your hands shakily grasped some pillows and put them behind your back. Your gleaming cunt glistened...that was totally you...no lube...no spit....just your arousal alone.

“Look at this pussy.” He marvelled as he pushed two fingers inside. You gasped and let out a feral moan.

“It just swallows up my fingers...do you like my fingers fucking your wet pussy?”

You whined and but your lip. When you didn’t answer, he pulled them out. He started licking them lewdly as he waited for your reply.

“I...” Your hands covered your eyes as you moaned, “I don’t know.”

“Are you turned on?” he asked you again.

“Yes,” you admitted. You just wanted his fingers back there again.

“Do you want my cock?” He purred in a soft belittling time.

“Y-yes...” you almost sobbed. God admitting it now made yourself sick. How could you admit to that? Your entire goal was to kill him. Take him down. Destroy his reputation. But here you were.

In your bedroom, crying for him to fuck you with his huge dick.

He climbed on top of you and tugged your ankles over his waist.

You felt his hard head press into your hole. His cock popped inside and his hips started the deep defend inside of you. He held your hips, lifting you up.

“Do you hate me?” he crooned, his teeth gnawed at your earlobe.

“I do,” you growled, in his ear, “fucking hate your guts.”

He laughed and groaned, “You hate my fucking guts?”

“Yes, fuck,” you gasped and scratched the back of his neck.

He was stretching you out and you drowned in his touch. You felt his cock tapping at your special spot and felt your knees clench tighter around his ribs.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked despite being balls deep and jerking his hips into yours.

“Yes. Oh god,” you gargled as he decided to slam himself harder and faster. Your nails dug into his biceps. Your teeth were grit tightly. You kept swearing. It hurt and felt so good altogether.

“Who do you belong to?” he sighed, his eyes winced while your pussy clenched him tightly.

You grunted angrily, “No body.”

He punctuated with his jerking hips, “You. Belong. To. Me.”

“N-no!” You yelped, his finger curled under your collar and tugged up you neck until you were forced to put yourself up on your elbows. He slowed his speed but kept his deep entrance.

“Oh but you do puppy, you do. You already know it. You just don’t want to admit it.”

His other hand pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled a little. Your nostril flared. Fuck that was painfully good. He tugged you up by the leather strap until your nose pressed against his. His moustache tickles against your lip.

“Whose collar is around this throat?” he growlee.

You grunted, “Yours.”

“That’s right...it’s. Mine. My. Collar.”

He kissed you hard and possessively. Not once did he let the collar go. He shoved his mouth into your ear as he ground down hard inside your cunt.

“Would you fuck any other man with this collar on?”

Your hand hugged the back of his neck and scratched, “No!”

“So tell me, who do you belong to.”

Your gasped, spit flying from your mouth against his as you said it, “Y-you.”

“That’s right, good puppy. You belong to me. I own you. You are my pet. You are mine to look after...mine to protect.”

It was a mantra, a speech that planted itself into your mind as a new fact...like a new commandment that always had been yet unspoken until now.

“Say it you little bitch,” he barked.

“Yours, I’m yours,” your eyes rolled as you started to cum, your words caught in your mouth until you Released a ear piercing scream, “I belong to you!!”

You felt him cackle as you wailed through the orgasm. The pressure was like a water balloon bursting in your belly and shooting a burning pleasure through your cunt.

It took you a while to calm down. You sobbed. The pleasure was too much...you felt confused and consumed. His cock twitch and he grunted loudly before freezing. His cock moved again and you felt him pull away, his cum rushed out and dripped out of you.

You felt full and empty. It was an unusual sensation.

He was sweating, your were drenched. Leaning over your trembling body, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and sighed, “what are you?”

“Yours,” you whined.

He chuckled and shook his head. His fingers pinched your jaw, “No, what are you to me?”

“I...” you paused and blinked lazily. Your brain was too fuzzy. “I don’t understand...I don’t know.”

Your hand wandered up to your throat. His hand was fiddling with the metal. You heard the collar pop and click. He pulled the collar away and threw it over his shoulder, “You’re my puppy.”

"And..." You voice rattled through your teeth, "And you're...daddy?"

He kissed you again and nodded, "Good girl."

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Restless Man

Summary: Beau Arlen finds himself in the middle of a case with more twists than a country road.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reina Cetanwakuwa-Stanley

Word Count: 417

Warnings: cursing, show level violence, derogatory remarks (some in native languages)

Square Filled: @jacklesversebingo -"Well, that went great."

A/N: The inklings for this started the first time I heard Jensen singing Restless Man. This work is partially from historical information and canon elements from the Big Sky series.

*Set after the series finally 3:13 That Old Feeling.

A/N II: All Native American words/sentences in this part are Cheyenne or Lakota resourced from freelang.net and glosbe.com *some algorithmically generated on these sites.

*Translation:  vé'ho'e-White people/member of Caucasian race

PROLOGUE 

Beau Arlen steps out of Dewell & Hoyt Investigation Agency into the bright morning sunshine that’s deceptively masking the crisp nip in the morning air signifying winter isn't far off.

Slipping on his sunglasses, he gazes across the street scrutinizing a group gathered outside a lawyer's office. Judging by their attire, they’re from the country club set except for one hidden under a Stetson and duster. 

The now permanent sheriff of Lewis and Clark County hears the door open as Denise Brisbane, the agency’s indispensable assistant and his incorrigible flirt, comes out. “Ohh, that can’t be good.”

 “Who’s the bigmouth?”

“Holland Stanley.”

“As in running for state senator Holland Stanley?”

“The same. Along with being involved in other various enterprises. Looks like the Stanley patriarchs' will reading isn’t going over well.” They continued watching when Holland noticed them redirecting his ire, “What the fuck you gawking at? Goddamn noisy vé'ho'e!” The accompanying rude gesture was the last straw for Arlen.

He starts off the curb when Denise makes a squeaky noise and grabs his arm, “Best not to have a public confrontation. You don’t want the Stanleys as enemies, trust me.” She glances back across the street and the Stetson-wearer nods at her in acknowledgment. 

“Thanks for the update, Pop’s,” Arlen hung up with an amused chuckle, “so someone called in about Holland raising holy hell over someone named Rain or…what’s with the faces ladies?”

“No faces here,” Denise says with a fake, innocent expression. She glances at her boss, Cassie Dewell, for backup and sees it's not happening. “Okay, there might be something.”

“What might be something?” 

They all turn to see Jenny Hoyt, Cassie’s business partner and Arlen's undersheriff, come in noticing everyone acting off and calls them on it. “Okay, what’s going on?” Cassie decides to take one for the team, “Denise thinks she saw Reina Stanley outside the lawyers across the street.” She watched her partner's composer shift coolly asking, “You sure it’s her?”

“I know it’s been like a decade since anyone has seen her but,“ Denise stopped when Hoyt did that thing with her mouth when irritated. Before Arlen could ask what the deal was his phone went off. “There was a bank robbery in Jefferson City…” Hoyt doesn’t wait for him to finish and turning on her stacked bootheels storms out yelling, “I’m driving!” 

“Ladies,” Arlen says hastily exiting and when they hear Hoyt’s Bronco peel out Denise says, “Well, that went great,” to which Cassie just shakes her head.

tbc

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva  @lassie-bird @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67  @leigh70

Dean/Jensen:  @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @akshi8278  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

*tags open if interested

[bongaboi]

Penrith: 2023 NRL Premiers

Panthers superstar Nathan Cleary has produced the finest performance of his career to lead the premiers to a remarkable 26-24 triumph over the Broncos in an epic decider at Accor Stadium.

Trailing by 16 points after an Ezra Mam hat-trick had put the Broncos on track for their first title in 17 years, Cleary took the game by the scruff of the neck to ensure the Panthers would emulate the Eels of 1981-82-83 with a three-peat.

Cleary put Moses Leota over for a try with 17 minutes to play and then came up with a 40-20 before scoring the final try in the 77th minute to leave the Broncos shellshocked and the Panthers faithful in raptures.

The champion No.7 then capped his night by becoming just the third player to win the Clive Churchill Medal for a second time, joining Brad Clyde and Billy Slater in that exclusive club.

In a frantic opening it was Broncos centre Herbie Farnworth coming up with an early error to hand the Panthers field position but a brilliant bomb defusal by Kotoni Staggs helped his team come away.

Broncos hooker Billy Walters then produced a mammoth 40-20 kick out of dummy half but the opportunity was lost when the ball was spun left and Jesse Arthars slipped and went into touch.

When Selwyn Cobbo dropped the ball deep in his own territory the Broncos again found themselves under the pump but their defence again stood strong until a poor play-the-ball by Staggs in the 16th minute invited the Panthers into the red zone and first points followed in bizarre fashion.

A short dropout by Adam Reynolds in the 18th minute was batted back by Farnworth and rather than his Broncos teammates collecting the ball it was Panthers hooker Mitch Kenny who pounced for his first try of the season. Stephen Crichton converted to give the premiers a 6-0 lead.

When Reece Walsh was caught in goal and Reynolds' dropout failed to go 10 metres, the Panthers extended their lead to 8-0 courtesy of a Cleary penalty goal.

Come the 39th minute and the Broncos struck back when Thomas Flegler powered over from close range having only returned to the field three minutes after passing a head injury assessment. Reynolds converted to make the half-time score 8-6 to the Panthers.

On the back of a couple of enormous charges from Flegler the Broncos made the ideal start to the second half when Mam split the Panthers open and raced 50 metres to score wide out. Reynolds converted to give the Broncos a 12-8 lead.

After Panthers five-eighth Jarome Luai left the field holding his shoulder in the 52nd minute the Broncos extended their lead through a second try for Mam, who put some fancy footwork on Isaah Yeo and Cleary and raced away to make it 18-8 to Kevin Walters' men.

Two minutes later Mam had a hat-trick after Walsh sliced through and found the No.6 in support as the Broncos turned the game on its head with a stunning burst.

Trailing by 16 points the Panthers hit back when Cleary found a hole and set up Leota for a try in the 63rd minute before the champion No.7 came up with a 40-20 to set up another opportunity but a superb last-ditch tackle by Kobe Hetherington on Leota kept Brisbane's line intact.

A mistake by Pat Carrigan then opened the door for the Panthers again and Crichton made it four tries in four consecutive grand finals and the premiers were back in business, trailing 24-20.

When Reynolds put a dropout out on the full in the 72nd minute the Panthers had a shot at levelling up but Cobbo plucked a Crichton kick out of the air and the danger was averted.

With the crowd of 81,947 at fever pitch the Panthers remarkably hit the front 26-24 when Cleary took the line on from 10 metres out and put the ball down for the four-pointer that capped the greatest night of his career.

The Panthers' comeback from 16 points down was the biggest in grand final history, eclipsing the Storm's effort to come from 14-0 down to win the 1999 decider against the Dragons.

Match Snapshot Broncos prop Thomas Flegler left the field in the 23rd minute for a HIA which he passed and returned to the field in the 36th minute. Panthers hooker Mitch Kenny's first-half try was just the second of his 83-game career. Broncos prop Payne Haas had six runs for 70 metres and made 22 tackles in a powerhouse opening stint of 36 minutes. Panthers prop James Fisher-Harris had 11 runs for 95 metres and broke six tackles in his opening 33-minute stint. He finished with 153 metres and eight tackle breaks. The Panthers completed 18 of 19 sets in the opening half compared to 13 of 21 by the Broncos. The champions finished the night with an incredible 37 of 38 sets completed at 97 per cent.

Panthers fullback Dylan Edwards was immense with 296 running metres and six tackle breaks. Broncos centre Kotoni Staggs played his 100th NRL game. Panthers skipper Isaah Yeo left the field in the 57th minute for a HIA and was followed by back-rower Scott Sorensen in the 59th minute. Both men passed and were able to return. Panthers halfback Nathan Cleary produced a 40-20 kick in the 65th minute. Panthers centre Stephen Crichton has scored a try in four consecutive grand finals. Broncos centre Herbie Farnworth ran for 179 metres and had eight tackle breaks. The Panthers have won their past nine finals matches.

Plays of the Game Having steadied the ship in the shadow of half-time with a try to Thomas Flegler, the Broncos hit the front in the 45th minute when Ezra Mam produced one of the great grand final tries. Mam took the ball on halfway and left Lindsay Smith and Tago in his wake with some dazzling footwork before out-pacing Dylan Edwards on the run to the line. The 20-year-old then added a second and a third in the space to complete a hat-trick in the space of 10 sizzling minutes.

What They Said "I've never felt so under the pump in a game as we were in that second half tonight. I thought the Broncos deserved to be in the lead but over the course of the last few years we have built enough belief that when we get our game on, good things will happen, but I was a little worried midway through the second half. One thing I never doubt is the boys' ability to keep fighting and there was just enough time to make them get nervous. I can't remember the last time we had to come back like that and win. The 2020 grand final comes to mind. We ran out of time that night but tonight was pretty amazing. I thought Nathan looked really clear and the lessons he has learned gave him the clarity to be able to go 'now it is backs to the wall, now I'm going to go after it'." - Panthers coach Ivan Cleary

"There's no emotion in the sheds, it's very quiet. It's hard to get your head around what actually happened. I feel for all the players in there that gave so much but it wasn't enough in the end. I think the whole stadium thought we had done enough [when Ezra scored his hat-trick]. Right now it's a pretty empty feeling. I watched the AFL grand final yesterday and thought that's not a nice way to lose [for the Lions] and here we are sitting here in the same situation. That second period there, for 20 minutes, that's the Broncos that I know and that's where we'll get to, we'll do that for 80, but we're not there yet. But when we do we'll win premierships and that's what it's about. We're not there yet but we're a lot closer now than we were 12 months ago." - Broncos coach Kevin Walters

What's Next A host of stars from both sides will front in the Pacific Championship Tests which kick off on October 14 with the Kangaroos facing Samoa in Townsville. For those not playing internationals there's a well-earned break before the 2024 pre-season launches in November.

[qnewsau]

Say 'Hey Felicia!' this Christmas with Brisbane's ultimate drag spectacular

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/say-hey-felicia-this-christmas-with-brisbanes-ultimate-drag-spectacular/

Say 'Hey Felicia!' this Christmas with Brisbane's ultimate drag spectacular

Brisbane, are you ready for a Christmas celebration like no other? The much-loved Hey Felicia! A Drag & Dine Musical is back and bringing its festive Christmas edition to a brand-new home at The Sit Down Comedy Club in Paddington!

This year’s show promises to be bigger, bolder, and more fabulous than ever – and we have some exciting news that’s sure to thrill fans of Drag Race Down Under.

Hey Felicia! has become a cult favourite for its mix of show-stopping musical numbers and fabulous drag flair.

Audiences can expect dazzling performances featuring musical hits from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Mamma Mia, Moulin Rouge, and more, alongside all your favourite Christmas anthems to get you into the holiday spirit.

As if that wasn’t enough, introducing Felicia’s Musical Bingo, complete with singalong anthems, cheeky prizes, and a surprise drag moment.

Your fabulous cast includes Brisbane Icons Lulu LeMans, Scarlett Fever, ShuShu Funtanna, Vollie LaVont plus straight from Drag Race Down Under season four, Freya Armani & Mandy Moobs.

This is one Christmas event you won’t want to miss – Brisbane, get ready to say “Hey Felicia!”

Hey Felicia! A Drag & Dine Musical runs from November 23 to December 21 at The Sit Down Comedy Club in Paddington. For details and tickets, head to heyfelicia.com.au.

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.

[brettbowden]

The Start

The Start. Starting is one of the most complex aspects of a boat race with many moving parts, sail trim, team communication, competitors' attack and defence moves and the overall strategic view. All aspects have to flow and come together all at the one time on the go Signal. Preparation Many teams spend huge hours working on perfecting crew work and purchasing the best sails. But every weekend we turn up to the start line with 15 minutes to go. We all are aware of how this picture turns out. Like anything, the preparation needs to be happening well before your start time. You need to do this just to have an even chance with the opposition. The amount of information gathering alone, like your head to wind reading and the favoured end of the start line, will take a minimum 20 minutes, so allow yourself the time to collect the data. It is not possible to collect the data and have some practice runs if you have not allowed 1 full hour before the start time. The other aspect top teams have at start time is they are very relaxed and composed. You need a clear relaxed outlook to start well. Any raised voice and emotional output during the start period takes your mind away from the critical speed and time on distance calculations. You cannot make clear decisions under emotional pressure and load. Key data collection points.     Port and Starboard tack compass headings sailing upwind, are a critical part of the tactical information decision-making process.     Start line compass bearing was taken from the start boat end heading towards the pin end. eg.  90 degrees.     Head to wind reading taken from the middle of the line. eg. 190 degrees a square even start line would be 180 degrees so with the wind at 190 degrees we have a 10-degree bias to the boat end. This is informing us to start towards the favoured end.     The time it takes to sail from start boat to pin end - this is critical information in big fleets. The start line at the Brisbane 2018 Etchells Worlds was 1 nautical mile long. That’s a long sail in an Etchells at 4 knots.     3 x practice runs at the line in full race trim. Advice From John Cuneo Many, many moons ago on my first ever World Championship attempt, our then Dragon Olympic Gold Medallist at my home club, Mr John Cuneo, gave me some great advice and I still use it today with all the people I coach. - There are only ever 3 boats in a sailboat start; you, the boat to Weather and the boat to Leeward. At all times you must be bow forward on both these boats to have a fighting chance. He would always say “make sure you win the small start first”. - The second point John expressed was starting is like being a boxer; if you stand flat-footed you will get hit. You need to duck, weave, and change speed – it makes you harder to catch. One area John expressed is you need to duck move and mostly watch and look around for the openings or attacks. We have seen it so many times in the starting area if you sit and luff your boat you will be a sitting duck and a target for others. Keep your eyes dancing all around just like the boxer watching for the knockout punch. We must be aware at all times of the other competitors. In the last 15 seconds in most sailboat starts it’s key to be getting to maximum speed.  When the gun goes you need to be at max speed. Reproduced with kind permission of RBYC Melbourne, Australia and Head Coach Adrian Finglas  Adrian has won many Australian National championships from Sabot, 420, 470, 505, Youth Nationals, Pre Olympic selections in 1992, Win in the Sydney Hobart race, He has an extremely diverse sailing background from professional racing to teaching young children’s Tackers. Adrian travelled the globe for 20 years of his life chasing the sailing challenge either racing himself or coaching. He coached 2 Para-Lympic medals for Australia at the 2008, 2012 games and was the Olympic coach for the Yngling at the 2008 Olympic games  CLICK HERE! Read the full article

[a-solitary-sea-rover-backup]

Tom grew up in Koolewong with his twin sisters, Alana and Jess. His father sailed with the Gosford Sailing Club and, from the age of seven, Tom began sailing with his dad on Brisbane Water, then competed in the twilight races, and progressing to junior classes. He just loved to compete, whether it was tennis, sailing, or even playing cards.

Surprisingly, his early love was tennis not sailing, and his goal was to be a professional tennis player – his mum was a keen tennis player – and his idols were Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi and Jim Courier. Tom practised in the mornings at Woy Woy tennis courts on the way to school at St John the Baptist.

He later went to high school at St Edwards in East Gosford, training at the Gosford courts. A little before the Sydney Olympics he realised he was not enjoying tennis as much as he had, and his training sessions dropped down from twice daily. Then his dad took him to watch the 2000 Olympic sailing races on Sydney Harbour, and the sights and excitement made him realise that this is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

[cars4starters]

Leyburn the real deal — just ask Dick You can visit Leyburn anytime, 365 days a year. But if motor sport is your bent, then make it the weekend in mid/late August. That’s when this tiny town 2.5 hours’ drive south-west of Brisbane opens its brawny arms and big heart to some 15,000 townies and bushies alike.  The occasion is, of course, the annual Historic Leyburn Sprints.  It was 1996 when the Historic Racing Car Club of Queensland got together with the local community to organise what was […] https://cars4starters.com.au/leyburn-the-real-deal-just-ask-dick/?feed_id=29746&_unique_id=65a5f2ed3c4c6

[nrlonline]

Robati had been stood down in January in the wake of charges arising from an incident at a nightclub during the off-season, before he was charged with unlicenced driving in late January.

In 2021 he was also fined and had his licence suspended after pleading guilty to dangerous operation of a car.

READ MORE: Bulldog's bold claim amid Cleary comparison

READ MORE: Sharks' missing veterans leave massive hole

READ MORE: Joey's ominous warning to struggling Dolphin

As part of the process for finalising this season's squad, forward TC Robati has been released from his contract with the club," the statement read.

Robati made just 17 appearances across two seasons with the Broncos, and hasn't played since their round 14 win over the Raiders last season.

It's been a difficult off-season for Brisbane - losing several experienced players, while their only big name-signing, Reece Walsh, is in a race to be fit for round one after suffering a facial fracture during trials.

Tesi Niu and Brenko Lee (Dolphins), David Mead and Ryan James (retired), Te Maire Martin (Warriors), Tyson Gamble (Knights), Jake Turpin (Roosters) and Zac Hosking (Panthers) all left the club in the off season.

The Broncos get their season underway against the Panthers at BlueBet Stadium next Friday night.

[watusichris]

Rock Gunfight in the Antipodes

Listening today to the hot new Grown Up Wrong! comp by Sydney’s Lipstick Killers, whose lone officially released single was produced by Deniz Tek of Radio Birdman, it occurred to me that my old Music Aficionado faux faceoff between Australia’s pioneering bands of the ‘70s (all of which I dearly love) has disappeared into the online ether. It’s time to bring it back.

**********

By Chris Morris

The mid- to late ‘70s were fertile days for rock ‘n’ roll in Australia. Here and there across the vast but not terribly populous island continent, fires were started by several attitude-filled bands bent on doing things their own damn way. They all managed to make their way off the island, but if they hit the American consciousness, it was for little more than a nanosecond during their heyday.

Who were the truest Rock Wizards of Oz? For this Down Under face-off, I’ve selected three contenders: the Saints, Radio Birdman, and the Scientists. All of them had fairly slim discographies; ironically, the act probably least known in the U.S., the Scientists, recorded most prolifically, with their core line-up producing several magnificent albums and singles during a productive four-year stretch in the early ‘80s. But none of these bands ever stayed together long enough to make a deep impression among the Yanks.

So where’s the Birthday Party, you ask? There are a few things to consider. First of all, though the band and its precursor unit the Boys Next Door were in business from 1976 on, they didn’t release their first LP until 1980. Also, Nick Cave is well known enough that more (king) ink needn’t be spilled on him. Finally, I still resent the fact that Cave stole PJ Harvey away from me, so it’s personal.

On with the showdown…

HIT ME LIKE A DEATH RAY, BABY

The Saints, founded 1974 in Brisbane

The prime movers of the Saints were a pair of literal outsiders: vocalist Chris Bailey, born in Kenya to Irish parents, and guitarist Ed Kuepper, raised in Germany. Thus the otherness of their work is no surprise.

With schoolmate Ivor Hay – who over time would play drums, bass, and piano with them – the pair founded a combo originally known as Kid Galahad and the Eternals (borrowing their handle from a 1962 Elvis Presley picture), but they swiftly renamed themselves the Saints and began playing in their hometown on the northeast coast of Australia.

Listening to their records, which were made in something of a cultural vacuum, it’s difficult to get a handle on where the Saints’ distinctive, aggressive sound came from. To be sure they were aware of such homegrown precursors from the ‘60s as the Master’s Apprentices and the Missing Links (whose 1965 single they covered on their debut album). It’s safe to assume they were conversant with the Velvet Underground, the Stooges, and Lenny Kaye’s 1972 garage rock compilation Nuggets. Yet they bred something utterly their own in the ocean air of Brisbane.

With Hay on drums and Kym Bradshaw on bass, Bailey and Kuepper mounted noisy local gigs that swiftly attracted the antipathy of the local constabulary; they wound up turning their own digs into a club to play shows. In 1976, they recorded and issued a self-financed single featuring two originals, “(I’m) Stranded” and “No Time.” These dire, ferocious songs were distinguished by venomous lyrics, unprecedented velocity, and guitar playing by Kuepper that sounded like a (literal) iron curtain being attacked with a chainsaw.

The record died locally, but a copy of its U.K. issue found its way into the hands of a critic at the English music weekly Sounds, which declared it the single of the week. This accolade got the attention of EMI Records, which signed the band and financed the recording of an album, also titled I’m Stranded, in a fast two-day Brisbane session.

The album, which was ultimately released in the U.S. by Sire Records, blew the ears off anyone who heard it, and it landed with a bang in England, where punk rock was lifting off in all its fury in early 1977. It was hurtling, powerful stuff that stood apart from punk in several crucial ways: While some of the songs were clipped and demonic in the standard manner, the Saints proved they could take their time on expansive numbers like the almost Dylanesque “Messin’ With the Kid” and the sprawling, hellriding “Nights in Venice.” And one has to wonder how British p-rockers took to their perverted take on Elvis’ squishy “Kissin’ Cousins.”

Made by musicians who never considered themselves “punks,” and who in fact abhorred the label, (I’m) Stranded is nevertheless one of the definitive statements in the genre, and it has maintained its force to this day.

Settling in England for the duration, the Saints decided to throw a curveball. One could not find a more profoundly alienated album than Eternally Yours (1978), a series of yowling protests, twisted prophecies, and savage put-downs, including the snarling second version of the single “This Perfect Day.” But, though the record was loud and for the most part swift, the group applied the brakes to their sound somewhat, and a couple of songs, including the caustic album opener “Know Your Product,” were dressed by a soul-styled horn section. Punk loyalists ran for cover.

By the time Prehistoric Sounds was issued in late ’78, the dejected Bailey and Kuepper were moving in different directions, and you can hear it in the grooves. The record is slow, almost listless at times, and its logy originals are complemented by incongruous Otis Redding and Aretha Franklin covers with none of the energy of earlier Saints soul-blasts. It is an album primarily for loyalists, and by then there were few in that number.

Kuepper exited the band on the heels of the third album’s release and returned to Australia, where he enjoyed a long career as leader of the Laughing Clowns; Bailey continued to perform under the Saints mantle with a shifting lineup that at last count numbered more than 30 players over the course of 37 years

Bailey and Kuepper reunited for one-off gigs in 2001 (at the ARIA awards ceremony) and 2007 (at Australia’s Queensland Music Festival).

THERE’S GONNA BE A NEW RACE

Radio Birdman, founded 1974 in Sydney

People who toss the “punk” handle around often throw Radio Birdman into the mix, but the sextet from Australia’s Southeast Coast may be best referred as the world’s youngest proto-punk band.

Its mastermind was guitarist, songwriter, and producer Deniz Tek, a native of Ann Arbor, Michigan, who emigrated to Sydney in 1971 to study medicine. As a teen, he got a chance to witness Detroit’s most explosive pre-punk bands – the MC5, the Stooges, and the Rationals; he would later wind up collaborating with important members of all those groups.

After apprenticing with and getting bounced from a Sydney band called TV Jones, Tek formed Radio Birdman (its name a corruption of a lyric from the Stooges’ “1970”) with singer Rob Younger; the lineup ultimately solidified with the addition of guitarist (and sometime keyboardist) Chris Masuak, bassist Warwick Gilbert, drummer Ron Keeley, and (on and off and then on again) keyboardist Pip Hoyle.

Rapidly acquiring a fan base made up of some of Sydney’s lowest elements, including members of the local Hell’s Angels, Radio Birdman ultimately took over a bar, re-dubbed (in honor of the Stooges, of course) the Oxford Funhouse, as their base of operations. The band’s severe Tek-designed band logo emanated fascist-style vibes for some; at a co-billed appearance in Sydney, the Saints’ Chris Bailey remarked from the stage, “We’d like to thank the local members of Hitler Youth for their stage props.”

Despite much antipathy and some attendant violence, the band maintained a loyal local following, and in 1976 it issued a strong four-song EP, Burn My Eye, via local studio-cum-independent label Trafalgar. This was succeeded the following year by a full-length debut album, Radios Appear.

Anyone looking for something resembling punk will likely be disappointed by that collection. The band wears its all-American hard rock/proto-punk influences on its dirty sleeve. Radios Appear is dedicated to the Stooges (whose “No Fun” was the lead-off track on the Aussie issue of the LP), and a song co-written by Tek and Stooges guitarist Ron Asheton, “Hit Them Again,” was cut during sessions for the record. Tek pays deep homage to MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer with his playing, and blatantly cops a signature lick from the 5’s “Looking at You” at one juncture. The album title was lifted from a Blue Öyster Cult lyric, and the Tek-Masuak guitar-bashing bows to their multi-axe sound. Finally, in both Younger’s sometimes Morrisonian vocalizing and Hoyle’s Ray Manzarek-like ornamentation, homage to the Doors in paid in full. Given that Sydney is a beach town, there’s even a frisson of surf music in the mix.

Bursting with power-packed originals like the apocalyptic “Descent into the Maestrom,” youth-in-revolt anthem “New Race,” the cryptic, insinuating “Man with the Golden Helmet,” and Tek’s autobiographical “Murder City Nights,” Radios Appear was a power-packed set that established Radio Birdman as Oz’s leading rock light.

However, renown did not equal success in Antipodean terms. In 1978, the band cut its second album, Living Eyes, at Rockfield Studio in Wales; it was a solid effort that included remakes of three Burn My Eye numbers (including the wonderful Tek memoir “I-94,” about the Michigan interstate) and excellent new originals like “Hanging On,” “Crying Sun,” and “Alone in the End Zone.” But, with success seemingly within their grasp, Sire Records – their American label, and the Saints’ as well – switched distribution and cut their roster, leaving their new work without a home. Within months of this catastrophe, Radio Birdman disbanded.

The principals scattered, to Younger’s New Christs and Tek and Hoyle’s the Visitors; Tek, Younger, and Warwick Gilbert later joined MC5 drummer Dennis Thompson and the Stooges’ Ron Asheton in the one-off New Race. Tek also later recorded with Wayne Kramer and Scott Morgan of Ann Arbor’s Rationals in Dodge Main.

Radio Birdman’s original lineup reunited for a 1996 tour; in August 2006 – after four of the original sextet regrouped to record a potent new album, Zeno Beach – the band played its first American date ever, at Los Angeles’ Wiltern Theater. Your correspondent was there, and it was freakin’ incredible.

IN MY HEART THERE’S A PLACE CALLED SWAMPLAND

The Scientists, founded 1978 in Perth

Among the important Aussie bands of the ‘70s, the Scientists were among the first to be directly influenced by the punk explosion in New York.

As guitarist-singer-songwriter Kim Salmon – the lone constant in the Scientists’ lineup during their existence – wrote in 1975, “Reading about a far-off place called CBGB in NYC and its leather-clad denizens, all with names like Johnny Thunders, Richard Hell, and Joey Ramone, got me thinking…I immediately went searching for Punk Rock. What I found were The Modern Lovers and The New York Dolls albums.”

Salmon first dabbled in the new sound with a band bearing the delightfully punk name the Cheap Nasties. Cobbled together in Perth – the Western provincial capital of Australia – from members of such local acts as the Exterminators, the Victims, and Salmon’s the Invaders -- the early Scientists were as derivative as one might imagine. Their early songs, heard on their self-titled LP (the so-called “Pink Album”) and an early single and EP, sport original songs authored by Salmon and drummer-lyricist James Baker, the backbone of shifting Scientific crews through 1980. The tunes range from straight-up Dolls/Heartbreakers rips (“Frantic Romantic,” “Pissed On Another Planet,” “High Noon”) to buzzing romantic pop-punk in a Buzzcocks vein (“That Girl,” “She Said She Loves Me”).

Not terribly promising stuff, but, after the departure of Baker for the Hoodoo Gurus in 1981 and a brief stint in a trio called Louie Louie, Salmon assembled a new Scientists who would prevail for nearly four years. That outfit – Salmon, guitarist Tony Thewlis, bassist Boris Sujdovic, and drummer Brett Rixton – promptly relocated to Sydney and started making the noise they are noted for.

By that time, Salmon had begun cocking an ear to the Birthday Party (and no doubt paid careful attention to the sordid noise on the Melbourne group’s 1982 album Junkyard), had discovered the miasmic voodoo of the Cramps, and started grooving to the dissonant, slide guitar-dominated racket of Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band. In short order, he would also absorb the bluesy downhome assault of Los Angeles’ roots-punk outfit the Gun Club.

The Sydney-based Scientists hooked up with indie label Au Go Go, which issued a devastating run of careening, mossy records by the band in 1982-83 – the vertiginous singles “This is My Happy Hour”/“Swampland” and the corrosive “We Had Love” (backed by a faithful cover of Beefheart’s “Clear Spot”), and the heart-stopping mini-album Blood Red River, which bore the churning “Set It On Fire,” “Revhead,” and “Burnout.” Others were essaying a similar style, but the Aussie youngsters were beating their elders at their own game.

Eying the big time, the band moved to London in 1984. Some opportunities presented themselves initially: The band got European tour slots with the Gun Club and early Goth act Sisters of Mercy. But their deal with Au Go Go fell apart acrimoniously; while they made a pair of fog-bound albums, You Get What You Deserve (1985) and The Human Jukebox (1987) for Karbon Records (and a set of re-recorded songs, Weird Love, was issued in the U.S. by Big Time Records), they scraped by in Britain.

Defections from the ranks commenced in ’85, and by early 1987 the depleted Salmon used money from a housing settlement to move back to Australia, where he founded a new band, the Surrealists.

Still valued among the cognoscenti, Salmon, Thewlis, Sujdovic, and latter-day drummer Leanne Chock appeared, at the invitation of Seattle’s Mudhoney, at London’s All Tomorrow’s Parties Festival in 2006. Earlier this year, Chicago-based archival label the Numero Group issued a comprehensive four-disc box of the band’s original recordings.

So, at the end of the day, who is the all-time champeen of ‘70s Oz rock?

Scoring on points, the Saints are tops for Being Punk First with additional wins in the Pure Noise and Weltzschmerz categories, Radio Birdman takes the Technical Ability and Old-School Attitude slots, and the Scientists prevail in the Loud Young Snot and Grunge Thug division.

And the championship belt goes to…the Saints!

Of course, that could all change tomorrow, but that’s rock ‘n’ roll for ya.

[qnewsau]

Gayleen Tuckwood shares horror story of drugged-up hens gig

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/gayleen-tuckwood-shares-horror-story-of-drugged-up-hens-gig/

Gayleen Tuckwood shares horror story of drugged-up hens gig

Each month, we ask local entertainers to spill the tea about themselves, their craft and the local scene. This time it’s Brisbane drag artist  Gayleen Tuckwood.

Gayleen won Drag Performer of the Year at 2024’s Queens Ball Awards.  She shares her experience growing up in Rockhampton, the Drag Race star she’d hate to live with and a horror gig with drugged-up hens.

The first time I did drag was….

In the bedroom of Shushu Funtanna who was my closet openly gay friend growing up. We were about 15 or 16 and we made little YouTube videos that are so cringe to look back at now. 

I chose my drag name because…

I wanted to combine the two biggest inspirations in my life together into one, my parents. Their names are Gavin and Raelene and that’s how Gayleen was created. I know it’s pretty tacky but I will never take for granted how lucky I am to have such amazing parental support. 

Growing up in Rockhampton was…

A very mixed experience. It was strange for me to be queer while going through catholic high school in my generation. I always had a supportive family at home and all the support from the other students and friends.

It was just the almost bully-like behaviour that came from some of the teachers, the lack of any LGBTQIA+ information at school and the misinformation about gay sexual health spread from school teaching that really let the experience down. 

Gayleen’s drag

I would describe my drag as….

Doris Day living in the body of a 90s prostitute that has an interest in fashion and two left feet. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Gayleen Tuckwood (@gayleentuckwood)

My best skill in being a drag performer is…

Hosting. I love to have a chat with the crowd and make connections with new people constantly. It really is the world’s best job and the ability to make people forget about whatever they have going on in life for a few hours while they watch a drag show is what I’ll always be most proud of. 

Something people don’t know about doing drag is…

The obsession it becomes. Your whole life quickly starts revolving around it and you realise after doing it for a while that you can never go back to not being a drag queen for the rest of your life. 

My family’s reaction to me doing drag was….

So wonderful. My parents came to one of my first shows in Rockhampton and still, my 82-year-old nana comes to every show I do in my hometown and gets involved in the show. 

My favourite song to perform is…

Total Eclipse of the Heart – Bonnie Tyler pitch 4. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Gayleen Tuckwood (@gayleentuckwood)

Brisbane scene

The Brisbane queer scene is…

So country and down to earth. I love the oversharing and the lack of filters we seem to have with each other when talking with other queers in the Brisbane scene. 

Brisbane drag artists are…

Insane. Some of the numbers and concerts I have seen on stages all around Brisbane make me want to throw money at the performer and then call the authorities. It’s so versatile in Brisbane also with being able to experience so many different styles of drag performances all around the place. I would just love to see more drag kings working regularly. 

The drag performer who deserves more attention is….

Any new drag performer. It is so nerve-racking when you first start performing at clubs or pubs in drag and my message for anyone going to a drag show is; if you hear it’s a performer’s first or second time on stage you better cheer extra loud and encourage them after the show and tell them how good they where. Even if you have to lie a bit! 

Drag Performer of the Year

Winning Drag Performer of the Year this year was….

The cherry on top of an amazing few years of drag. Ever since starting my transition a few years back I have really started giving back to my drag and working harder on it.

Travelling a lot to lots of rural towns to perform drag and getting to pop a lot of people’s drag cherries and spread the good word of drag far and wide.

Winning this year just felt correct and like a great “exclamation point” on what has been a few unforgettable years. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Gayleen Tuckwood (@gayleentuckwood)

RuPaul’s Drag Race is…

An absolute goal of mine to be on but is also something that has made drag more mainstream and provided a lot more booking and events for drag queens to work at and a chance for us to earn a good living. 

The drag performer I’d hate to live with would be…

Mandy Moobs. Our house would be such a mess and we would just be making inappropriate jokes at each other the whole time or always complaining that we work too much. 

Best and worst experiences

The best experience I’ve had in drag is…

Performing at The Broken Heel Festival 2024. Just an amazing group of performers and a fantastic crowd and organisers. 

The worst experience I‘ve had in drag is…

This one particular hen’s party. All the young gals were doing drugs in the bathroom with the hen, when the mother caught them they freaked out and said the drag queen brought them.

I ended up not getting paid on the night and was threatened with violence by the mother.

When I contacted the hen a few days later she came clean to her mum and I got paid but never got an apology. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Gayleen Tuckwood (@gayleentuckwood)

The best thing a fan has done for me was…

Crotchet me a miniature copy of my two cats, Gianni and Valentino. They now live in my handbag and I take them to every gig. 

The worst thing someone in the audience has done was…

Climb on stage mid-number and injure themselves falling back off the stage. 

Getting political

One message I have for our community is…

That politicians are real people too and there are so many that are out to support us.

Go up to them and chat when you see them at our events and if ever there is something you don’t agree with from a local political leader message them and communicate with them.

Laws will get passed from the top down and we need our voices to be heard.

You can follow Gayleen Tuckwood @gayleentuckwood on Instagram.

Other Queensland drag stars:

How Shanny T-Bone overcame hate from within our community

Sarah Problem-Hoe spills the tea on the Brisbane scene

Henny Spaghetti’s response to being slapped by a fan

Archie Arsenic calls for more accessible queer spaces

Get to know First Nations queen Chocolate Boxx

Spill the tea with Brisbane drag star Maxi-Bon

How AFAB drag artist Ladybird thrives despite shocking abuse

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. 

[a-solitary-sea-rover-backup]

Alive wins Rolex Sydney Hobart for a second time in five years

Alive, skippered by Duncan Hine, has been declared the overall winner of the 78th Rolex Sydney Hobart Yacht Race, securing the Tasmanian boat its second victory in five years. 

The win is also Tasmania’s fifth in the 628 nautical mile Cruising Yacht Club of Australia’s race after Hine skippered Phillip Turner’s Reichel/Pugh 66 to her first victory in 2018.  Alive’s win adds extra polish to the pedigree of the boat that its owner, Philip Turner, bought the former Black Jack in 2014, with a view to winning the race. After its victory in 2018, Alivecame close again in 2019, but placed fourth. Last year she finished 10th.

Asked how he felt to win a second Sydney Hobart, Hine laughed and said: “It goes to prove finally that it [2018] wasn't a fluke.” Then he added: “I'm very lucky really. Phil has such an amazing boat to start with. We’ve got a really good crew. And the weather was good for us.”

Alive’s win is the highlight of an extraordinary year for the boat. This year, Alive also claimed overall honours at Hamilton Island Race Week, the Brisbane to Hamilton Island Race and Bruny Island Race, as well as line honours in the King of the Derwent Regatta.

“It has been a remarkable year for the boat,” said Hine adding that while Turner did not sail on Alive this year unlike in 2018, he has celebrated with him over “quick chat or two by phone.

…

Hine lauded his 14 crew that included navigator Adrienne Cahalan for whom it was a 31st Sydney Hobart (a record for women), and New Zealanders Gavin Brady and Stu Bannatyne and the rest of the crew. We worked so hard all the way through that race. Everyone put in 100 per cent,” Hine said.“You don't always walk away feeling like you've done the best you could have personally, but I don’t think anyone would have hopped off the boat feeling they could have put more in.”

[woolley48michael]

Livescore | yesterday's football results | LiveXscores

Results from yesterday football - Scores & Fixtures - Football - BBC Sport

Russia. Ural II 1. FC Nosta Novotroitsk 1. Anzhi Makhachkala rseults. Makhachkala 1. Chelyabinsk 2. SKA Rostov 1. Volna Nizhegorodskaya 1. Volga Ulyanovsk 1. Wales. Aberystwyth Town 1. Turkey. İstanbulspor 1. Poland. Republic of Ireland.

St Patrick's Athl. Win 3. Dundalk 0. Shelbourne Win Draw Wexford Win. Cork City. Treaty United. Denmark. Hobro 1. Kolding Boldklub. Mexico. Zitacuaro 1. Irapuato 2. Inter Playa del Carmen 2. Necaxa U Belgium results from yesterday football. AS Eupen 1. KVC Westerlo. Serbia results from yesterday football. Stepojevac Vaga 1. Czech Republic. Pardubice 1. Croatia. Sesvete 1. Opatija 1. Argentina. El Porvenir. Victoriano Arenas. Platense Res. Win Find out here San Lorenzo Res.

Estudiantes La Plata Res. Defensa y Justicia Res. Racing Club Res. Win Draw Independiente Res. Patronato Res. Win Draw Gimnasia Esgrima Res. Rosario Central Res. Win Draw Banfield Results from yesterday football. Win Draw Boca Juniors Res. River Plate Res. Win Draw Sarmiento Res. France - Ligue 1. Germany - 1. Netherlands - Eredivisie. Portugal - Primeira Liga.

Spain - LaLiga. Australia - A-League. Belgium - First Division A. Bulgaria - First Professional League. Czech Republic - 1. Denmark - Superligaen Relegation Group. England - Championship. Fotoball - 2. Hungary - NB I. Ireland - Premier Division.

Football Yesterday's results

Italy - Serie B. Netherlands - Eerste Divisie. Poland - Ekstraklasa. FC Results from yesterday football Pyunik Yerevan. Shirak Gyumri Alashkert. Mamelodi Sundowns Belouizdad. Lujan Mutual Leandro Niceforo Alem. El Porvenir Excursionistas. FC Noravank Ararat Yerevan 2. Centenary Stormers The Gap. Macarthur FC Brisbane Roar. Eastern Suburbs FC Olympic. Adelaide University Adelaide City.

Green Gully Cavaliers South Melbourne. Oakleigh Cannons Melbourne Knights. Vorwarts Steyr Horn. Pasching Dootball. FC Wacker Innsbruck Dornbirn.

Football Scores & Fixtures

Anna Am Aigen. Weiz Wels. Kalsdorf Allerheiligen. Wiener Neustadt Wiener Sport-Club. FC Fiotball Donauauen Leobendorf. Al Malkiyah Al Badii. Zvezda-Bgu Minsk Sputnik Rechica. Eupen Standard Liege. Westerlo RWD Molenbeek Paysandu Tuna Luso PA. Criciuma Ponte Preta. Vila Nova Juventude.

Capivariano Noroeste. Pirin Blagoevgrad Lokomotive Sofia. Club Atletico Pantoja Monterrey. Valledupar FC Union Magdalena. Barranquilla FC Deportes Quindio.

Ajax 1 results from yesterday football Roma FT. Arsenal 1 1 Slavia Prague FT. Dinamo Zagreb 0 1 Villarreal FT. Granada 0 2 Manchester United FT. Inter Milan 2 1 Sassuolo FT. Juventus 2 1 Napoli FT. Sedan 0 1 Angers FT. Saumur 1 2 Toulouse FT. Linfield 2 1 Coleraine FT. Real Madrid 3 1 Liverpool FT.

Brentford 0 0 Birmingham City FT. Morecambe 1 1 Southend United FT. Ayr United 0 3 Dundee FT. Airdrieonians 2 1 Falkirk FT. Clyde 1 1 Cove Rangers FT. Dumbarton 0 0 Montrose FT. Forfar Athletic 1 1 Peterhead FT. Brechin City 1 1 Stenhousemuir FT.

Elgin City 2 1 Stranraer FT. Queen's Park 3 0 Cowdenbeath FT. Monaco results from yesterday football 0 Metz FT Results from yesterday football win on penalties. Ballymena United 2 2 Glentoran FT. Carrick Rangers 1 1 Crusaders Footbaall.

[ucflibrary]

Ready to fly your flag?

Pride Month has arrived! While every day is a time to be proud of your identity and orientation, June is that extra special time for boldly celebrating with and for the LGBTQIA community (yes, there are more than lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender in the queer community). June was chosen to honor the Stonewall Riots which happened in 1969. Like other celebratory months, LGBT Pride Month started as a weeklong series of events and expanded into a full month of festivities.

In honor of Pride Month, UCF Library faculty and staff suggested books from the UCF collection that represent a wide array of queer authors and characters. Click on the read more link below to see the full list, descriptions, and catalog links.

With the Libraries’ on remote resource access, the usual extended physical display isn’t available so we have created a list of ebooks and streaming videos that you can access from the comfort of your home. 

A Wild and Precious Life: a memoir by Edie Windsor  A lively, intimate memoir from an icon of the gay rights movement, describing gay life in 1950s and 60s New York City and her longtime activism which opened the door for marriage equality. Edie Windsor became internationally famous when she sued the US government, seeking federal recognition for her marriage to Thea Spyer, her partner of more than four decades. The Supreme Court ruled in Edie's favor, a landmark victory that set the stage for full marriage equality in the US. Beloved by the LGBTQ community, Edie embraced her new role as an icon; she had already been living an extraordinary and groundbreaking life for decades. Suggested by Kelly Young, Administration

 How We Fight for Our Lives: a memoir by Saeed Jones Haunted and haunting, Jones's memoir tells the story of a young, black, gay man from the South as he fights to carve out a place for himself, within his family, within his country, within his own hopes, desires, and fears. Through a series of vignettes that chart a course across the American landscape, Jones draws readers into his boyhood and adolescence--into tumultuous relationships with his mother and grandmother, into passing flings with lovers, friends and strangers. Each piece builds into a larger examination of race and queerness, power and vulnerability, love and grief: a portrait of what we all do for one another--and to one another--as we fight to become ourselves. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

 How to Write an Autobiographical Novel: essays by Alexander Chee Chee’s manifesto on the entangling of life, literature, and politics, and how the lessons learned from a life spent reading and writing fiction have changed him. In these essays, he grows from student to teacher, reader to writer, and reckons with his identities as a son, a gay man, a Korean American, an artist, an activist, a lover, and a friend. He examines some of the most formative experiences of his life and the nation's history, including his father's death, the AIDS crisis, 9/11, the jobs that supported his writing--Tarot-reading, bookselling, cater-waiting for William F. Buckley—the writing of his first novel, Edinburgh, and the election of Donald Trump. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

 Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera Juliet Milagros Palante is leaving the Bronx and headed to Portland, Oregon. She just came out to her family and isn't sure if her mom will ever speak to her again. But Juliet has a plan, sort of, one that's going to help her figure out this whole "Puerto Rican lesbian" thing. She's interning with the author of her favorite book: Harlowe Brisbane, the ultimate authority on feminism, women's bodies, and other gay-sounding stuff. With more questions than answers, Juliet takes on Portland, Harlowe, and most importantly, herself. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

 No Tea, No Shade: new writings in Black queer studies edited by E. Patrick Johnson This book brings together nineteen essays from the next generation of black queer studies scholars, activists, and community leaders who build on the foundational work of black queer studies, pushing the field in new and exciting directions. Suggested by Jada Reyes, Research & Information Services

 Over the Top: a raw journey to self-love by Jonathan Van Ness  Before he stole our hearts as the grooming and self-care expert on Netflix’s hit show Queer Eye, Jonathan was growing up in a small Midwestern town that didn’t understand why he was so…over the top. From choreographed carpet figure skating routines to the unavoidable fact that he was Just. So. Gay., Jonathan was an easy target and endured years of judgement, ridicule and trauma—yet none of it crushed his uniquely effervescent spirit. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll come away knowing that no matter how broken or lost you may be, you’re a Kelly Clarkson song, you’re strong, and you’ve got this. Suggested by Kelly Young, Administration

 Queer, Trans, and Intersectional Theory in Educational Practice: student, teacher, and community experiences edited by Cris Mayo and Mollie V. Blackburn Queer theory, trans theory, and intersectional theory have all sought to describe, create, and foster a sense of complex subjectivity and community, insisting on relationality and complexity as concepts and communities shift and change. This collection brings these crucial theories together to inform pedagogies across a wide array of contexts of formal education and community-based educational settings. Suggested by Anna Dvorecky, Cataloging

 Real Queer America: LGBT stories from red states by Samantha Allen Allen takes us on a cross-country road-trip stretching all the way from Provo, Utah to the Rio Grande Valley to the Bible Belt to the Deep South. Her motto for the trip: "Something gay every day." Making pit stops at drag shows, political rallies, and hubs of queer life across the heartland, she introduces us to scores of extraordinary LGBT people working for change, from the first openly transgender mayor in Texas history to the manager of the only queer night club in Bloomington, Indiana, and many more. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

 Shakesqueer: a queer companion to the complete works of Shakespeare edited by Madhavi Menon Exploring what is odd, eccentric, and unexpected in the Bard’s plays and poems, these theorists highlight not only the many ways that Shakespeare can be queered but also the many ways that Shakespeare can enrich queer theory. This innovative anthology reveals an early modern playwright insistently returning to questions of language, identity, and temporality, themes central to contemporary queer theory. Chasing all manner of stray desires through every one of Shakespeare’s plays and poems, the contributors cross temporal, animal, theoretical, and sexual boundaries with abandon. Together they expand the reach of queerness and queer critique across chronologies, methodologies, and bodies. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

 Sister Outsider: essays and speeches by Audre Lorde In this charged collection of fifteen essays and speeches, Lorde takes on sexism, racism, ageism, homophobia, and class, and propounds social difference as a vehicle for action and change. Her prose is incisive, unflinching, and lyrical, reflecting struggle but ultimately offering messages of hope. This commemorative edition includes a new foreword by Lorde-scholar and poet Cheryl Clarke, who celebrates the ways in which Lorde's philosophies resonate more than twenty years after they were first published. Suggested by Jada Reyes, Research & Information Services

 Stories I Told Myself: a memoir by Brian D. Crimmins (UCF Thesis) Stories I Told Myself: A Memoir explores the experience of growing up gay in the 1980s. It is one boy's journey toward self-acceptance set against the conservative backdrop of a rural community on California's central coast. The story illuminates the hunger for a life different than the one being lived, and the ever-present sense of being different exacerbated by bullying and unrequited love. It is a narrative of evolving identity, and includes cultural insights and societal context of the time period. The author poses a fundamental question, "How did I make it out of the 80's alive?" and he explores the answer with poignant humor and self-examination. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

 The Book of Pride: LGBTQ heroes who changed the world by Mason Funk Captures the true story of the LGBTQ civil rights movement from the 1960s to the present through richly detailed, stunning interviews with the leaders, activists, and ordinary people who witnessed the revolution and made it happen. Suggested by Megan Haught, Teaching & Engagement/Research & Information Services

 The Crimson Letter: Harvard, homosexuality, and the shaping of American culture by Douglas Shand-Tucci Historian Douglass Shand-Tucci explores the nature and expression of sexual identity at America's oldest university during the years of its greatest influence. The Crimson Letter follows the gay experience at Harvard in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, focusing upon students, faculty, alumni, and hangers-on who struggled to find their place within the confines of Harvard Yard and in the society outside. Suggested by Pat Tiberii, Interlibrary Loan & Document Delivery Services

 Time is the Thing a Body Moves Through by T Fleischmann Sebald meets Maggie Nelson in this autobiographical narrative of embodiment, visual art, history, and loss. T Fleischmann uses Felix Gonzales-Torres's artworks--piles of candy, stacks of paper, puzzles--as a path through questions of love and loss, violence and rejuvenation, gender and sexuality. From the back porches of Buffalo, to the galleries of New York and L.A., to farmhouses of rural Tennessee, the artworks act as still points, sites for reflection situated in lived experience. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

 Trauma, Violence, and Lesbian Agency in Croatia and Serbia: building better times by Bojan Bilić This book uncovers some of the major moments in the fragile and still poorly known herstory of feminist lesbian engagement in Serbia and Croatia. By treating the trauma of war, homophobia, and neoliberal capitalism as a verbally impenetrable experience that longs to be narrated, this monograph explores the ways in which feminist lesbian language has repeatedly emerged in the context of strong patriarchal silencing that has surrounded the armed conflicts of the Yugoslav succession. The book renders visible a surprising diversity of activist initiatives and the resilience of transnational affective ties, which testify to the creativity of lesbian activist mobilizations in the ambivalent semi-peripheral space that used to be Yugoslavia. Suggested by Anna Dvorecky, Cataloging

We Are Everywhere: protest, power, and pride in the history of Queer Liberation by Matthew Riemer and Leighton Brown Have pride in history. Through the lenses of protest, power, and pride, this is an essential overview -- and a visual record -- of the history of the Queer Liberation Movement in the United States. With exhaustively researched narrative and hundreds of stunning photographs, this sweeping book traces queer activism from its roots in the late-nineteenth-century -- long before the pivotal Stonewall Riots of 1969 -- to today, casting new light on many of the movement's trailblazing activists and organizations. Suggested by Christina Wray, Student Learning & Engagement