#sydney derby

[unladyboss]

ANOTHER CLAIRE CARMY ARTICLE THAT HAS ME SEEING RED

This ARTICLE FROM GOLD DERBY

Ok cool cool

They offered Claire a recurring role so now they want to do revisionist history.

Oh Claire was there to open Carmy's heart.

The same heart that had an anxiety attack and could only calm down thinking about Sydney?

Let's get into it!!! Since we're being philosophical!

The same heart that he keeps rubbing I love you signs in front of Sydney, while encouraging her to do the same under the guise of I'm sorry?????

Oh, Claire coming was for him to have a love interest????

Love interest he gave a fake number to???

Love interest he never talks to?

Love Interest who gets introduced as a friend?

All of that happens

After a series of interviews after season one telling us that the show is not about romance.

Ok cool cool cool

So what about this

Oh ok. So Claire is based on a 'friend' of Storer right?

AND the Bear is based on STORER life. Therefore his real life 'friend' tracked him down and did all the things Claire did. But he ends up with Gillian Jacobs who Sydney Adamu is modeled after. With no sightings whatsoever of Christopher and this particular friend, in real life (bet that 'friendship' got nipped in the bud real fast)

Don't play in our faces Christopher Storer

Matter of fact pass me that spit cup. I'm so upset I could sp**

But wait a minute if that whole mythology and Ceres angle they introduced is correct, Richie is supposed to end up with Claire. So I'm just waiting to see what happens

(I'm still upset though)

[trevlad-sounds]

Sleep Space 11

21.10.2024

UNKNOWN ME-Orbicular Water 00:00 Willebrant-Cyan 04:10 Jogging House-Never 08:58 Cousin Silas-Nexus 10 13:03 Paul Cousins-Thought Loops 17:08 Gollden-thoughts (an interlude) 20:41 Ann Annie-Sweet Coast 22:20 Andrea Castiglioni-Mountainside 24:33 jarguna-Hanami (428Hz) 25:12 Rhucle-避暑 42:42 encym & Wodwo-Upstractions 44:26 BVSMV-Let Go 50:40 little forest-midnight 54:52 Rhucle & morimoto naoki-Boundaries 57:54 James Bernard-Watching Clouds Form 1:01:20 Wodwo-in a minute there is time 1:04:57 Tim Linghaus-Somersault (IO) 1:09:54 IDRA-Noises From the Past 1:12:53 anthéne-cloudburst 1:18:00 Polaroid Notes-Frigid Stars 1:22:28 Ed Herbers-The Overview Effect 1:25:01 Come le onde-Grazie 1:28:06 Floating World Pictures with Ocean Moon-Hearts Gates 1:29:47 Christian Fiesel-There Are No True Meanings 1:37:03 Kilometre Club-Balance A Bastion 1:45:39 The Green Kingdom-Fading Landscape 1:47:07

[teamseaslug]

I need to figure out when the Kentucky Derby is I wanna participate. I am not rich or white enough for country clubs or wherever people watch the Kentucky Derby but I'll party in my cute little hat with my cute little outfit and my cute little cocktail

[leatherkart]

Buy Red Tape Men Brown Derby Shoes

Buy red tape men's brown derby shoes for a classic, stylish look. Perfect for formal or business wear, with lasting comfort.

[fazcinatingblog]

Laura, go get a life and stop posting dumbass fanfics

[opencommunion]

In recognition of Bisan Owda's call for protests worldwide from Saturday Feb 17th to Tuesday Feb 20th, and the Global March for Rafah on the 17th: AUSTRALIA Feb 17 Canberra - 1 PM Gold Coast - 4:30 PM Sydney - 1:30 PM Feb 18 Melbourne - 12 PM CANADA Feb 17 Ottawa - 2 PM Toronto - 1 PM Vancouver - 2 PM Feb 18 Montreal - 2 PM EUROPE Feb 17 Amsterdam - 1:30 PM Dublin - 1 PM Glasgow - 1 PM Helsinki - 7:30 PM Istanbul - 3 PM London - 12 PM (UK natl march, see link for transport from Birmingham, Bristol, Coventry, Derby, Newcastle/Durham, North Wales, York/Scarborough. Youths, join the youth bloc!) Mannheim - 5 PM Torino - 2:30 PM

Feb 18 Prague - 1 PM

UNITED STATES Feb 17 Atlanta - 4 PM Denver - 2 PM Greensboro - 2:30 PM Indianapolis - 8 PM New York - 1 PM San Diego - 1 PM Seattle - 12 PM Waterville - 1:30 PM Feb 18 Boone - 3 PM Detroit - 1 PM Milwaukee - 2 PM New Orleans - 11:30 AM Saint Paul - 1 PM

Feb 19 Cambridge - 2 PM Chicago - 11 AM This is far from a complete list so check your local solidarity group's socials, and if you still can't find anything, organize something!

[trulyhblue]

MISS AUSTRALIA (PART ONE)

Katie Mccabe x Aussie!Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, praise kink, angry sex, dom! Katie, sub! Reader, enemies, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap.

A/N — I know Mackenzie wasn't at Camp but let's just skip past that :)

Masterlist

___________________

The game against Arsenal had been a complete disaster. No one could've prepared you for the monstrosity it turned out to be.

Two days before the long-awaited London Derby, you were in Canada alongside your fellow Australian teammates, basking in the double defeat against your Chelsea teammates Jessie Fleming, Ashleigh Lawrence, and the Canadian National Team. To be fair, it hadn't been all that bad. Some Canadian fans were dubbing it ‘revenge’ after the World Cup, but a friendly was hardly much vengeance in your eyes. They had beaten your B team with their A team, and you had only played the second game alongside the usual starters like Steph, Hayley and Alanna.

By the end of the second game, you had swapped shirts with Jessie, who smothered you in forehead kisses and walked alongside Ashleigh for the lap around the stadium. Steph and Caitlin joined shortly after, both of their jackets covering their sports bras; they had given their jerseys away.

Soon enough, Kyra filtered over. You poked your tongue out to the girl, who giggled and reciprocated the actions before hugging your waist. Dozens of fans banked against the barricade, holding out signs and jerseys to sign. Phones stacked on top of hands reached out as the group of you travelled around the loop. You still had a firm hold on Kyra as you peeled your shirt off, handing it to a little girl with big, bulky glasses. You signed her poster, took a photo, and thanked her before waving goodbye. Your boots had been cuffed and peeling after a nasty tackle by your opponent, so you didn't waste any time in unlacing them and passing them over to a pair of twin girls, who hugged each other and cried at the notion.

Steph and Caitlin mingled with their respected fans while you and Kyra continued to use markers and pens to sign anything that was within arm’s reach.

“Oi, y/l/n!” Caitlin called out, your head turning toward the girl who stood a few feet away. “C’mere, look at this.”

Kyra waddled beside you as you made your way over to where Caitlin had pointed. You couldn't help but notice the slight huddle of fans that had accumulated in that spot, several cameras filming the interactions with cheeky smiles decorating everyone’s faces.

You caught sight of the massive poster, reading it with a blank expression, knowing the cameras were trying to catch your reaction. The sign was coloured in red and blue, with a photo of you on one side, and none other than Katie McCabe on the other. You tried hard to conceal the scowl on your face, hiding behind a sly smirk. You ran your hand over the writing: ‘YELLOW CARD DERBY’

It was no secret that both you and McCabe had a notorious reputation for receiving yellow cards from referees. It was a running joke in the Football community, starting from when you had your debut for the Matildas at fourteen, against Ireland. Katie had gotten a card that game too, both of you receiving it for tackling one another. You played for Sydney FC before you moved to Chelsea, playing your debut match against Arsenal six months after your seventeenth birthday.

Katie had been sent off that match for nearly breaking your ankle, a red displayed in the air before she stopped off with a heated scowl across her face. You knew of her reputation from International games, recalling the older woman as an aggressive little shit that hated you for no reason.

London Derbys started to become all the more heated. After a while, both sides tried their hardest to not put you on at the same time, pressured into thinking that they’d end up being a player down due to your rivalry.

It got so bad that people started picking sides. Dividing the two London teams and causing hate to spread. You were younger than Katie by six years, which seemed to be the leading factor in why people believe that Katie is too harsh. On the other hand, Arsenal supporters reckon that you are immature on the pitch. In prior matches, you had been called a whinger, especially when you were around your sister-like teammate, Hayley Raso.

It is safe to say that you and Katie were not on agreeing terms, even off the pitch, with mutual friends to keep you at bay. You both competed for everything. You were neck and neck in the Ballon d'Or, scoresheet, heat maps, everything. It didn't matter if you weren't playing against one another, you were always compared.

But it didn't seem to bother either of you. In fact, you were certain Katie enjoyed it.

You did too.

“Do you agree with it?” Steph laughed beside you, swinging her arm around your shoulders, pointing towards a printed photo of you pushing Katie to the ground, blood smeared across your nose and lips. Beside it was another photo of the referee pointing towards both of you with red cards. You were looking at Katie with utter turmoil; your Australian Jersey was covered in mud, hers had streaks of dirt covering her socks, and a testing smirk written across her face. Behind the pair of you was a younger-looking Steph, her hand covering the shock on her face.

“None of those were my fault.” You answered, watching as the huddled crowd around you chuckled at your response. You didn't want to say the wrong thing, you didn't know if what you said was that funny. “I promise I don't do it on purpose.”

“Oh, yeah, right, Little Miss Goody-Too-Shoes.” Caitlin scoffed, poking your side. “I've seen you play, you're a ride-off.”

Kyra giggled like usual, swaying her hips into yours. She pointed towards the red card photo. “I don't remember that being an accident.”

You don't exactly know why, but your cheeks are stained a solid red, staining your freckles with a tint of embarrassment. Katie had pushed you over, laughing when your face met the cold, wet mud. It was not a pleasant memory you look back on fondly. “Shush, Ky.”

You felt a presence behind you lifting you up by a grip around your waist. You were pulled onto the shoulders of Macca, earning a yelp to sound from your lips, the interaction leaving fans laughing even more.

“Oh, Baby, what's wrong?” Macca said teasingly, holding your thighs with her hands. You looked down at her and frowned, the team’s nickname for you left you feeling a tad humiliated considering it was in front of people who didn't know of the handle. Kyra took out her phone, taking a few shots of the sight with the intention of putting it in her photo dump.

When Macca caught sight of the poster, she cracked up. “Oh God, that's good.”

“Put me down, Mackenzie.” You groaned, kicking your feet half-heartedly into her side. The Keeper did as she was told, but made the show of huffing and puffing as she let you off her shoulders.

“Do you want me to sign it or something?” You said to the boy holding the poster, watching as his eyes lit up as he nodded.

“Are you a Chelsea or Arsenal fan, mate?” Steph asked him, waiting as the boy shook his head.

“West Ham.”

This made Mackenzie’s head snap towards him. “Really?”

“Yeah, who the fuck supports West Ham?” Caitlin questioned, yelping when Steph whacked her in the chest. “Language, Cait.”

“You're a real one, mate,” Mackenzie said, walking up to the boy and hugging him, making him smile like it was Christmas.

“Who do you think’s gonna win on Saturday?” Kyra egged on, shoving past Macca and grinning at the boy, indiscreetly pointing towards herself and the other Arsenal girls.

The boy looked between them and shrugged, folding his sign back up when you finished signing it. His eyes landed on you. “Well, you're my favourite player, but Chelsea are always too cocky.”

“No lies said.” Kyra said, yearning you to push her playfully.

“What if I score a goal, will you go for me then?” You asked, holding out your hands.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, but that's if you get past Katie.”

You couldn't help but scoff, shaking her head. The girls around you smirked at your competitive nature, sharing knowing looks.

“I don't remember the last time McCabe scored against me.”

***

You were glad that at least you kept that statement true.

The video of you reacting to the poster had gone viral, and everyone found the interaction utterly hilarious. Not only did you have a reputation for cards, but you also had one for being a sub in important games like this.

But that assumption didn't seem to make an appearance today, as you waited in the tunnel beside Jessie, holding the hand of a little girl, waiting as you caught sight of Caitlin in front of you

“Are you alright?” Sam muttered, turning to face you with an inch of worry apparent in her eyes.

You looked back at her, nodding. “Yes, just tired.”

You said this in truth. You hadn't had much sleep over the past week due to the different time zones you were living in. Sam had an injury during the Friendly, therefore not being able to compete alongside your Matildas team. But the fatigue was apparent in everyone’s eyes. You even noticed it in Kyra when you saw her on the bench as you walked towards your starting position.

The fans were screaming at the tops of their lungs, but you slowly drowned them out as you honed in to concentrate. You looked to your left, finding Jessie throwing a thumbs up towards you. You smiled back at her, gulping down the last of your anxiety before the whistle blew.

You knew this would be a hard game before it even started, but Arsenal’s level of aggression was completely unexpected.

Fouls were handed out left and right, followed by a bit of push and shove from either side. You fought your way up and down the wing, waiting for an opportunity to surpass. Both teams were angsty with the ball, throwing easy chances away as the crowd grew in volume.

Sam hadn't come down to defend like she usually does, instead waiting past the halfway mark as the midfield continued to pass to and fro.

You grew annoyed at the lack of ball time you were receiving, even when you made a point to be out and open near the corner. Your breathing was ragged and tested, your patience running thin when the crowd of Chelsea players swarmed Victoria Pelova and leaving Beth Mead to shoot in the open.

“There were four of you, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered, dragging your hands over your face as you sighed, returning to your starting position once more.

It started to become ridiculous when you still hadn't received the ball, yelling out on the wing as the minutes passed with Arsenal in front. You hadn't been in the midst of any tackles or gameplay until the thirteenth minute when one of your teammates crossed the ball to you over the halfway line.

You dragged your feet across the ball, feeling the grass hit your feet as you sprinted toward the goal. You stepped past Lotte Wubben-Moy, leaving an open space to slot it through toward Kaneryd.

The ball had left your feet with a concentrated pass before your balance was cut short. A potent force left your legs to crumble beneath you. Your body collided with another, leaving your lungs without any air. Your head spun with nausea, the speed at which you were taken out leaving you heaving for breath. It took you a few moments to register the figure you had landed on, and how the crowd went wild at the shot that had passed Zinsberger.

“I’d never thought you liked being on top, y/l/n.”

The voice made your stomach churn even more.

“Surprised you have enough brain cells to think, McCabe.”

You rolled off her with a groan, your legs aching from the impact. You felt the hands of one of your teammates soothe the distant pain in your head, causing you to roll onto your back.

Instead, you were met by a red jersey. “You alright, Baby?” Steph asked, helping you up.

You didn't have time to answer Steph. She was bombarded with a shove from Lauren James, who turned to the ref with her hands in the air. “That’s a red, ref! The ball left her feet!”

“James, do not yell at me.” The referee fired back. “McCabe, this is your first and final, am I clear?”

McCabe shrugged her shoulders. “I slipped.”

Lauren looked like she was about to pounce. “Oh, you little-”

“What, eh?” Katie walked up to challenge the girl back. “Can Miss Australia not speak for herself?”

Kim Little, Arsenal’s captain, appeared in the mix. “Katie, that's enough! Walk away.”

“Can't handle a tackle, what a baby, shouldn't be on the field—”

“McCabe!” Kim snapped, which shut up whatever rant Katie was about to begin.

The ref turned towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder. The action was met with Arsenal boos. “Y/l/n, are you alright?” Looking concerned at your pained countenance. Lauren rubbed a hand across your back, eagerly awaiting the card Katie deserved.

“I’m fine.”

Maybe you shouldn't said no — maybe that would've landed Katie with a card. But you knew you’d be sent off if you did. You had just scored an assist to level your team. Katie McCabe of all people was not going to ruin that.

The game continued, your left ankle feeling tampered with as more tackles progressed.

It was clear that Arsenal were hungry for this win, leaving Chelsea left and right with calculated footwork and sprints across both their defensive and attacking lines.

When an Arsenal corner arrives shortly after, you run back to defend the post alongside Jessie. Steph is walking to take the corner with the ball in her hands, giving both teams time to find their spot in the box. Pelova was in front of you, Russo to your right. The majority of your midfielders banked against the goal in an attempt to stop the chances of Arsenal moving up two-one.

Steph was about to kick when you felt someone against you. Unknown hands grip your hips tightly, maneuvering them with ease that your body was stuck to them. Your breath hitched when you were pushed forward, forced to leave your place by the post.

“Miss Australia bent over for me?” The voice whispered, pricking the alcove of your neck. “With all these people watching? Guess she's not as innocent as everyone thinks.”

You weren't watching Steph’s long shot into the box, too angered by Katie to care. You didn't notice Amanda Ilestedt’s header into the middle of the goal, hitting the back of the net with a swoosh, met by North London cheers. Hell, you didn't fucking notice anything except Katie falling to the ground, your arms propelling her with so much force you fought to hide the flame that hindered your cheeks.

The whistle blew, causing celebrations to halt when both teams found the two of you glaring daggers at one another.

“Get off her, Y/l/n,” Wälti called out, running towards you and pushing you backwards.

“Nah, what a fucking ride-off.” You heard another Arsenal player say, making you stomp in the opposite direction, huffing in annoyance when the referee called you back.

Kim Little and Sam Kerr were standing by their respective players when the referee was scolding the two of you. It was obvious that you were painted as the immature one since it was made out that you needed to control your emotions more.

“I won't have you manhandling each other like idiots on my pitch. You play fair or you don't play. Understood?”

The four of you mumbled your understanding, filing back into place begrudgingly. Sam was ordering Jessie to swap with you, but you found yourself shaking your head, promising her you’d pull it in.

Turns out, you didn't.

The same circumstance of you pretty much skin-on-skin with Katie happened after Alessia Russo’s chip against Berger. 3-1 for an undefeated team was embarrassing, and no matter how many times you fed the ball well enough to become an assist, the communication just wasn't there.

“Get the fuck off me, McCabe.” You seethed, trying your best to squirm your way out of her grip, but to no avail.

“You need to stop all that wriggling, Y/l/n,” Katie responded, the smirk on her face was evident even from behind. “Those red cheeks couldn't have been from running.”

“I’m not red.”

“Ha, yeah, you and London both.”

Katie and you both got your yellow cards in the second half.

You knew people would find it funny online — the fact that you both got it at the same time — but the game felt like it had gone on forever, and at this point, all of Chelsea’s players were defenders.

You had a clear shot of the goal after Niamh Charles curled the ball to your wing, leaving you and Katie battling for possession near the sideline.

You couldn't help but notice how high her hands had gotten on your waist. Your knees were bending slightly so you could attain more balance, but maneuvering past Katie was a challenge, and proven extremely difficult.

You let out a struggled breath, angered at the lack of options your teammates offered due to their attacking absence. The ball beneath your feet went back and forth between the women in front of you. The two of you were complete mirrors of each other, both trying to nutmeg the other or humiliate them in some way. It was as if minutes had gone past when everyone was watching the two of you battle it out. It wasn't until Jessie came up behind the two of you, threading the ball out from beneath McCabe’s feet and dribbling it away that it seemed to have stopped.

You blanked when you saw Katie stretch her leg out, tripping Jessie onto the floor; leaving her limb on the grass.

“You’re such a cheat!” You exclaimed, pushing Katie with your hands. “You’re a fucking cheat, McCabe, and you know it!”

Katie surged towards you, her breath thick against your face. Your shirt was taken into her hand. She was so much taller than you. “Imagine needing your girlfriend to win your battles for you.” She spoke, her tone condescending. “The score says it all, Miss Australia. If only you weren't so distracted by me, you’d realise.”

She was looking down at you now, holding your shirt so tightly you knew that if you moved, she’d pull you right back in. Her accent was coarser than usual, sending you into a frenzy of disarray and warmth. She was towering over you, her build similar yet broader. Her smirk was minuscule, but prominent all the same. You knew you had lost the game, but you weren't going to lose this fight.

“And where’s your girlfriend, McCabe? Is she somewhere in the stands?”

You were pulled apart but Kim and Sam, the referee tramping over at the sight of the pair of you bundled up. The presence of the yellow card was something you expected, but not rewarding whatsoever.

“Get off my player, McCabe,” Sam ordered, holding a protective arm over your shoulder. Somehow, you knew what she was thinking, peeling your Captain’s arm away from you and marching off. In the distance, you could hear Katie speaking. “She's a big girl, Kerr. I promise it's never on purpose.”

Of course, she was mocking you, you thought. Of course, she saw the video.

You were replaced by Guro not long after that. The Chelsea cheers did not seep through your irritated exterior. Your head was pounding from the fall you had at the start of the game, and you winced at the tinge in your ankle as you ran off to hug Guro.

Emma Hayes strolled up to you, placing a stern hand on your shoulder. “I want you to cool off before you come back and sit down. You're going to shake each of those girls’ hands before you go home tonight.”

Without a second thought,, you stomped down the tunnel, making a point to let your metal studs echo all the way to the changerooms. At twenty-two years old, you had the most yellows in the WSL for your age. If the stats were compared, people would argue that you were higher than most of the older girls.

It was nothing you were proud of, despite the effortless compliments you gained for being potent in your determination to win. But you had been told by almost every coach that you could be too aggressive.

You kicked off your boots, peeling off your shin pads and socks to reveal the nasty bruise that was already blossoming on your ankle. Removing your clothes, you engulfed the hot spurs of water that left the shower head in Emirates Stadium. There was still half an hour of the game left when you were subbed off, so you made sure to take your time washing yourself from head to toe, soaking in the warmth that relaxed the tension in your muscles.

You replaced your game kit with some Matilda's trackies and a fitted tee. Combing your hair into a pony, washing your face with freezing cold water, you waited for your team to arrive from the game, feeling defeated and unprepared for the beating they were about to receive from Emma.

The changing rooms blocked out most of the noise from the game above, except from the thundering rumble of Alessia Russo chants that boomed after five minutes of waiting. You knew that had scored just by the sinking of your gut. The jetlag and fatigue were starting to hit you now, and you had half a mind to just pack up and go home. But you remembered Emma’s words to you before you stormed into the changing rooms. You knew she’d have your neck at training for the next three months if you didn't do as you were asked.

So you stood up, slotting your phone into your pocket, making your way back through the tunnel. The volume of the crowd was starting to get louder, and with each step you took, the less you felt inclined to follow through with the orders you were given.

You were about to turn the corner that led to the field when you were pushed back against the wall, your arms pinned above your head, your body caged in by someone tall and firm.

“Are your cheeks always so red, Y/l/n? Cause every time I see you, you look like you're on fire.”

“Piss off, McCabe.”

Katie was towering over you, unpinning your hands from their place above your head, leaning down so that you could see every detail of her face.

“You're free to go.”

“You're a right pain in the arse.”

She was laughing at you now. “Am I bothering you, Miss Australia?”

“Stop calling me that!” You knew your cheeks were flaming now but you couldn't help it.

Katie grabbed your face with her hand harshly, pulling you closer so that you were forced to look her straight in the eyes. “No, you don't like that?” Her hips met yours, and you squirmed. “What about Baby, eh? Everyone seems to call you Baby. You act like one so I guess it suits.”

“Katie—”

“Oh, so you're calling me Katie now, are ‘ya? I call you Baby and you call me Katie, is that what's happening?”

“No.”

Katie scoffed, placing her knee in between your thighs, keeping you planted between her. You had nowhere to put your hands, so you decided behind your back was appropriate. You felt the subtle movements of her knee in between your legs, her eyes watching for your reaction intently.

“No?”

You watched her head move down to your ear, her breath fanning across your neck. Her lips gradually grew closer to your pulse point, where goosebumps poured over your skin. When the warm sensation of her lips met your neck, your body subconsciously relaxed on her knee, making you jolt at the sudden friction applied to your core.

“Yes.” You ushered, pulling your hands out awkwardly as your neck reclined against the wall, your face etched to the ceiling. You were so, so stupid. What were you thinking?

“Yes… what?” You heard her say, her tongue swirling across the harsh mark she just made below your ear. You hesitantly fell back down on her knee, holding in the groan that yearned to leave your lips. This time, as you tried to regain the dispersing shards of your dignity, lifting your heat off her knee, her hands moved to seize your waist, pushing your hips down to roll against her knee.

The motion made you whine. “Yes, Katie.”

The woman chuckled as she coerced your hips back and forth, sucking and licking down your neck and across your collarbone. Feeling a slight ache from the game she just played, the sensation of the majority of your body weight rubbing against her knee made the Arsenal Victory even more triumphant.

“Is this okay, Baby?” She asked, leaving your neck cold as she waited for your response. You were so tired from the past few days that you slumped on Katie’s knee, waiting for her to continue kissing and moving you as she pleased.

“I need to shake people’s hands.” Your voice was meek but clear.

Katie looked at you, taken aback. “What?”

You wrapped your arms off her shoulders, holding them together in front of you. “Emma told me I need to shake everyone’s hands after the game is finished. She’ll be really angry if I don't.”

Katie’s smirk was back. “Will she now?”

You, too exhausted to realise she was egging you on, nodded. “Yes. So I have to—”

“Shake my hand?”

“Yes.”

Katie leaned in, raising her eyebrows. “What if I don't want to shake your hand?”

You were evidently stumped at the question, pursing your lips as you struggled to find a response. Katie's smile grew, and you grew bitter.

She moved to kiss your neck again to silence your upcoming retort. “What will Hayes do if you don't shake my hand, hm? She’d be so disappointed in you, wouldn't she?”

You tried to focus on anything but her lips led closer to your breasts. “McCabe, I need to—”

“What are you going to tell her, hm? When she asks you if you shook my hand, are you ‘gonna tell her that you tried to get off on my leg instead?”

You were at loss for words. Was she wrong? Of course, she wasn't. Katie McCabe was never fucking wrong, and here you were, pathetic on her knee, about to get off to your enemy calling you Baby, when you tell her you need to shake her hand. You really were a baby.

“Is that what you're going to say to her, Baby?”

“N-no.”

“Why not? It's the truth. You wouldn't want to lie, would you?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I'm not going to tell her that.”

She must've caught onto your honest dispute, slowly dragging her knee directly onto your clit and rubbing circles over it. You didn't expect her movements, so you moaned, pulling your head into her neck and breathing heavily.

You were so out of breath it wasn't funny. “I’m- I told Jessie I’d spend a night at her house.”

“I didn't take you for the cheating type, Y/l/n.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

Katie slowed down her movements. “I ‘spose you weren't thinking you’d get off with her knee tonight, would you?”

“No, we were just going to watch a movie.”

“How ‘bout this?” She whispered, pushing your hips against the wall. “You go and shake everyone’s hands like a good girl and I’ll treat you like one afterwards.”

You groaned when she pulled her knee out from under you, feeling your inner dread grow when you heard the full-time whistle and a tsunami of cheers.

“We won 4-1.”

“Still second on the ladder.”

“You have bite for someone who was just moaning fully clothed.”

“Goodbye, McCabe.” You snapped, trying to act Almighty and unbothered by the longing in between your legs. You had to double-check that nothing had leaked through from how wet you were, trudging up the tunnel without a second glance back.

When you found yourself on the pitch, you made a point to shake each of the Arsenal player's hands, including the ones on the bench, which had been nothing short of mortifying. Almost all of them looked at you strangely, trying to push past the obvious awkwardness and reciprocate the sportsmanship, except for the Aussie girls, who hugged you and offered warm conversation with the buzz of their victory.

“Is your ankle okay?” Caitlin asked, pulling you out of an embrace with worry smeared across her features.

You nodded, showing her the bruise by moving your sock. “Yeah, just some bruising. You guys played really well.”

Steph did the same: hug and condolences, while Kyra was completely opposite.

“LONDON IS RED!” She screamed, laughing when she mounted your back from behind.

“Get off, loser.” You retorted, pulling her into a hug as the two of you met in the middle of the field. You knew heaps of people were waiting for signatures, but you didn't care.

“What’s all over your neck?” She asked, grabbing your jaw and observing the fresh marks.

Shit, you thought, recalling the sensation of Katie’s lips tugging at your skin.

You pulled away, hoping distance would lessen the stringency of them. “I think it was from the grass. Y’know, when I fell.”

“Oh, don't worry, I know.” Kyra giggled, seemingly too full of energy to remember what she said two seconds ago. “You need to take a chill pill, Y/n/n. I’ll be sending you all the TikTok edits of you and Katie when I get home, don't you worry.”

“Please don't.” You muttered, holding out your hand to interlock it with Kyra’s. “Are you going straight home or?”

Kyra chuckled. “After this win? No fucking way.”

“You're still second on the ladder.” You reminded yet another Arsenal player.

Kyra poked her tongue out. “Boo, you whore.”

Kyra left you to celebrate with her teammates, marking her as the last Arsenal girl you needed to shake hands with.

You walked back into the changing rooms with an impassive frown on your face. Lots of the girls were already in the showers, Jessie among the few that had already finished and changed.

“We still up for tonight?” You asked, hoping your prior plans that you made before the game were still available after the thrashing they had just endured.

Jessie nodded, pulling you into a hug. “Sam, Millie, and Erin are all going to the pub to have a drink. They want us to come with them, you in?”

“Why not?” You replied, kissing the girl’s forehead before packing your bag.

You were glad that you were going out with your teammates instead of caving and finding Katie. But something deep down made you ponder whether what just happened was a one-off thing.

Spoiler: it wasn't.

[happygirl2oo2]

Queer Sports Romance Books Recs For Pride Month 🌈 (all are books I've either read or currently have on my own tbr list)

Hockey

Rookie Recovery (Bobcat Boys #1) by Jemma Croft and Lex Veia [mlm]

Vancouver Orcas interconnected series by Amy Aislin [mlm]

Hometown Hero (Whistleport Hockey #1) by Declan Rhodes [mlm]

Hockey Guys interconnected series by Sarina Bowen [mlm]

Prove It by Stephanie Hoyt [mlm]

Fake Boyfriend interconnected series by Eden Finley [mlm]

Caught off Guard by Catherine Cloud [mlm]

Chicago Thunder interconnected series by Jodi Oliver [mlm]

Don't Look Down (Best Laid Plans #1) by Jessica Ann [mlm]

Hockey Ever After interconnected series by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James [mlm]

Love & Other Inconveniences by Catherine Cloud [mlm]

Time to Shine by Rachel Reid [mlm]

Relationship Goals interconnected series by Brigham Vaughn [mlm]

Light Up the Lamp by Kit Oliver [mlm]

Puckboys interconnected series by Eden Finley and Saxon James [mlm]

Hot Shot (Orlando Storm #1) by Marissa James [mlm]

Breakaway partially-interconnected series by E.L. Massey [mlm]

Delay of Game interconnected series by Hannah Henry [mlm]

Offsides interconnected series by J.J. Mulder [mlm]

Roughing (Portland Seabirds #1) by Michaela Grey [mlm]

Stick Side interconnected series by Amy Aislin [mlm]

Let's Do This (IFU Hockey #1) by Loren Leigh [mlm]

CU Hockey interconnected series by Eden Finley and Saxon James [mlm]

Back to Center (Mohegan U Hockey #2) by Ryan Taylor and Joshua Harwood [mlm]

Penalty Box interconnected series by Ari Baran [mlm]

Shenanigans (Brooklyn Hockey #6) by Sarina Bowen [m/f with a bi mc]

The Inside Edge by Ashlyn Kane [mlm]

Icebreaker by A. L. Graziadei [mlm]

Hockey Bois by A.L. Heard [mlm]

Three Is The Luckiest Number by Catherine Cloud [mlm]

Not Over You by Samantha Wayland [mlm]

Wake Up, Nat & Darcy by Kate Cochrane [wlw]

It's a Love/Skate Relationship by Carli J. Corson [wlw]

Off the Bench Duet Series by Kimberly Knight [mlm]

Twincerely Yours by Eden Finley [mlm]

Car Racing

Pole Position by Rebecca J. Caffery [mlm]

Lights Out Series interconnected series by various authors [mlm]

Fast Love (Fast Love #1) by Kerry Lockhart [wlw]

Driven By Passion (Gamble Racing #2) by Renee Dahlia [mlm]

Redline (Redline #1) by Emma Barlowe [mlm]

Furious by Jamie Pacton and Rebecca Podos [wlw]

Bowling

The 7-10 Split by Karmen Lee [wlw]

Baseball 

The Prospects by KT Hoffman [mlm]

Batting Style by Louisa Masters [mlm]

You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian [mlm]

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes by Danielle Dawsen [mlm]

Volleyball 

We Got the Beat by Jenna Miller [wlw]

Always More (Sports #1) by Nicole Pyland [wlw]

Roller derby

Mighty Millie Novak by Elizabeth Holden [wlw]

False Start by Santana Knox [wlw]

Basketball 

How You Get the Girl by Anita Kelly [wlw]

Love and Sportsball (Atlanta Cannons #1) by Meka James [wlw]

Zone Defense interconnected series by Becca Seymour [mlm]

Fencing

Fence comic series by C.S. Pacat and Joanna the Mad [mlm]

Football

One Last Play by E.B. Neal [mlm]

Coming Out on the Sidelines by Dev Hahn [wlw]

Forward Entry (Sydney Swallows #1) by Aurora Crane [mlm]

The Game (Charleston Condors #2) by Beth Bolden

Atlanta Lightning interconnected series by Riley Hart [mlm]

Fumbled Past (San Diego Seals #2) by Cecelia Storm [mlm]

Onside Kiss (Domingo #1) by Octavia Jensen [mlm]

You Started It (Fan Service Series #3) by Hinsel Meyer [mlm]

Tigers and Devils (Tigers and Devils #1) by Sean Kennedy [mlm]

Roosevelt College interconnected series by Christina Lee [mlm]

You & Me by Tal Bauer [mlm]

Crushing on the Quarterback by Baylin Crow [mlm]

Tennis

Deuce (Tennyson Bend #2) by P.T. Ambler [mlm]

Soccer

You Don't Have a Shot by Racquel Marie [wlw]

Everything for You (Bergman Brothers #5) by Chloe Liese [mlm]

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner [wlw]

Pull Me Under by Zarah Detand [mlm]

The Game Changer (Denver Defiant, #1) by Finley Chuva [wlw]

I Like Me Better by Robby Weber [mlm]

Finding a Keeper (Sports #4) by Nicole Pyland [wlw]

Don't Hate the Player by Shelby Elizabeth [mlm]

Endgame by Zoe Reed [wlw]

Hotshot by Clare Lydon [wlw]

Rugby

Attractive Forces by Jax Calder [mlm]

The Tighthead (Lincoln Knights #1) by Charlie Novak [mlm]

Softball

The Unexpected Dream (Sports #3) by Nicole Pyland [wlw]

Chess

Always the Almost by Edward Underhill [trans boy x boy]

Wrestling 

Alondra by Gina Femia [bisexual girl mc]

Lacrosse 

Catch and Cradle by Katia Rose [wlw]

Swimming

Tears in the Water Margherita Scialla [LGBTQ+]

Badminton

Shy by Ashish Rastogi [mlm]

[inuyashaluver]

do you have any wips ?

UPDATED WIP LIST

my wip count is insane, but i will happily share because i love you all HAHAHA

i don’t know when these will come out but they’re coming i swear! i will admit..some of them were dropped if i thought i couldn’t achieve them well so please don’t take it personally

my updated wip list!! and again! just the names and people for now in no particular order xx:

proposal - patri guijarro

you’re annoying - emily sonnett

she’s different - alessia russo

save me - leah williamson

happy new year - grace clinton

let me help you - jessie fleming

handsy - maya le tissier

mammy - katie mccabe

soft spot - esme morgan

homesick - aitana bonmati

derby day - leah galton

ace - maya le tissier

baby aussie - awfc

piano melodies - leah williamson

little matchmakers - katrina gorry

anniversary - maya le tissier

blushy - aggie beever-jones

world cup - jenni hermoso

panic - alexia putellas

off limits - aitana bonmati

POTENTIALLY sleepy girl [part 2] - leah williamson

sticker book - sydney lohmann

arcade - grace clinton

tour guide - lena oberdorf

motivation - lucy bronze

i’ve got you - leah williamson

unexpected confessions - niamh charles

banned - leila ouahabi

green with envy - sydney lohmann

cheeky - jessie fleming

girlfriend - grace clinton

colouring - beth england

family - leah williamson

confusion - jessie fleming

la princesa - mapi léon

one knee - niamh charles

oh captain - niamh charles

hate - patri guijarro

there’s so many omg i’m excited, stay tuned and please be patient with me! love you all xx

remember, requests and my message box are ALWAYS open!!!! big mwah 💋 (copying my anon x)

[sunshine-theseus]

Slow | Chloe Logarzo x Reader

Words: 1.9k Summary: despite a rough relationship with your parents, your closeness to your sister brings you Chloe, the only girl for you. Warning: NOT PROOF READ I have no clue if this is any good and I’m so sorry I think it might be one of my worst ones😭, I know the WBBL started in 2015 but who fucking cares, I changed it – no COVID but Olympics still postponed for some unknown reason :D Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend - not happy with this one at all i'm genuinely so sorry

Sport wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with. In fact, it was my favourite thing. As a kid, my mum and dad put me through many different clubs for different sports, from tennis to AFL. We always landed back at the same lush green cricket pitch in the western suburbs of Sydney on a Saturday morning, surrounded by other girls of all ages who shared my passion.

On Sundays my younger sister would play her soccer games, so we’d spend the weekend in a hotel in the city, then go to each other’s games, pretending to do our homework as we watch.

Not long into Ellie’s soccer journey, our parents decided the move from Cowra to Sydney was necessary for her to develop. The hours long trips to and from training in the depths of Sydney every afternoon proving to be more difficult as she progressed in school.

I no longer lived with them when they made the move, but I resented Ellie for a while. I’d been playing cricket before she could walk, albeit poorly as a 6-year-old, and had moved up through the stages into the best group in the academy by the age of 14. My parents insisted nothing much would come of it, so there was no reason to make such a drastic move and leave the farm and small-town life behind.

-

I started playing professionally for Sydney in the Twenty20 Cup at 17, the same year I got my first call-up for the women’s national cricket team. We, or they, still didn’t live in Sydney, so I dropped out of high school my senior year, and lived with one of the older girls who was also on the national team. I made my national debut a couple months after in a test match against England. My parents didn’t come, Ellie had some important game on that was simply impossible to miss.

-

At 15, when they finally joined me in the city, Ellie joined her first W-league team, and had her first senior team call-up. I made sure to be there for both debuts, avoiding my parents who sat in the crowd nearby. I cried the moment she first touched the pitch in a Matilda’s jersey, and rushed down from the stands to pick her up and hug her when the match was over.

That’s when I first met her… Chloe. My age, a beautiful brunette in the midfield who celebrated with my sister after their 9-0 win against Vietnam. We introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers but nothing much came of it. I can’t deny the many nights I spent awake dreaming of the girl.

The next time I saw Chloe in person was a Sydney Derby. Naturally I’d come to support my sister, but I couldn’t help but cheer whenever the older girl got a touch on the ball. I met up with her and Ellie again after the game, shouting them both dinner. That’s when Chloe asked me out on our first date.

It was somewhat rushed. Her departure for Newcastle was pending and it limited our options, leaving us to grab some shitty take away and dance around in a field down the road from where I lived. The sun was bright, but her smile was brighter. I stumble on my own feet whenever she looked at me, her beauty beyond compare. The beginning of a sunburn kissing my cheeks only provided me so much of an excuse as to why I was so red.

“I’m going to come to every single one of your games.” She whispers in my ear as we lay on the picnic blanket, beneath the over looming gum tree, me playing with her hair as she rests a hand beneath my loose linen shirt.

“You have your own training. And you can’t drive 2+ hours back and forth once a week. Also we have away games you can’t possibly make...” Despite my desperate want for her to be there every game, I begin to list all the reasons it wasn’t logical.

“I’ll find a way. And if not all, most home games.” She gives me a satisfied smile, one that tells me she knows she’s won whatever little argument we had.

-

Chloe keeps her promise, and I join her in my own. We both attend each other’s home games as often as possible, and very rarely, we managed to catch an away game. It usually happened when we were both playing a game in the same city, but we took whatever we were given.

Things went down hill when she moved to Sweden.

She hadn’t been the one to tell me. Ellie was spending a week with me after returning from the Olympics, which I had managed to attend most of, and asked me how I felt about the move. Chloe and I had been dating for a year, so the shock that she hadn’t told me was bigger than the shock at the news.

“What do you mean? She would tell me if she was moving to Sweden.” The pity in my little sister’s eyes is enough to break me. She pats and rubs my back as I sob into her shoulder. My whole body shakes as I moan and weep, and by the time I stop my eyes burn and there isn’t a dry spot on her shirt.

-

“So this is it? You’re breaking up with me because I’m moving?” Chloe looks at me like I’ve got 2 heads as I stand on her front step.

“No, I’m breaking up with you because I had to find out from my little sister, by accident, that you’re moving. Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just going to have to find out when The Jets removed your name from the squad list?”

“I’m going to come back for the A-League season anyway! It’s not like I’m never coming back, I’ll barely be gone 8 months. And I was going to tell you!”

“When? Once your plane touched down in Stockholm or wherever you’re going? In 5 months when I called you so you can explain why you didn’t come to my game? When were you going to tell me Chlo?” I’m met with silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I turn and walk away, never expecting to see her again.

I can hear her shouting something at me as I continue to walk down the road, droplets of rain beginning to fall on the pavement in front of me. Nothing really registers until I’m standing in front of my sister’s apartment door, clothes heavy with rain and a face void of any other emotion except heartbreak.

-

I don’t see Chloe for years to come following the tragic end of our relationship. Despite her coming back during the summer to play for Sydney, I had no reason to watch her games, Ellie having moved to Portland to develop her career.

Then Ellie moved to Lyon, and I decided to move with her, putting a pause to my cricketing career. Further away from Chloe and closer to Ellie seemed like the perfect deal.

So I helped Ellie move and meet her new teammates. Every morning I’d make her breakfast and then walk around the city, usually finding myself in a café or museum and writing a book. Something I never planned on doing anything with, but found a solace in.

That’s how I found myself in the same café I go to every Saturday, typing in the same document I have been typing in for 5 months. Desperately pressing the backspace as I sip the now cold coffee, I don’t notice someone sliding into the seat across from me.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash at the speed in which my head snapped up to look at the girl across from me.

She looks different. Not really, just… older. And her hair is bleached, skin just a fraction more tan, eyes still that shimmering blue. Still beautiful

“Chloe- what the fuck are you doing here?” the words nearly get caught in my throat as I try to process what’s going on.

“Well, I’m playing for Bristol now, in case you didn’t know. Only spent 2 seasons in Sweden then went back to Sydney, went on loan to Washington for a season, back to Sydney, now I’m in England. We have a small break so I thought I’d come see Ellie. Planned everything around you, knew you wouldn’t want to see me. I didn’t take into account you might still like coffee as much as you used to.”

“How’d you even know I’m with Ellie?” it’s a dumb question but I ask it none the less.

“You think I stopped tracking your career because we broke up? I have to say, when I read the “renowned cricketer Y/N Carpenter taking a break for an unforeseen amount of time to help her little sister, Matildas star Ellie Carpenter, settle into the big leagues at Olympique Lyonnais.” headlines, I was shocked.” I finally managed to meet her eyes, the crow’s feet that crack at the corners making her ever the more pretty. It’s aggravating.

“Thought it’d help me get away from Sydney.”

“Sydney? Or me?” I almost want to grab her by the shoulders and scream at her how much I miss her, but I stay sat and silent. A satisfied hum escapes her lips and a smile graces her face.

“I miss you.” She says what I’m thinking, and I begin to think how much of a coward I am. It was so easy for her, why am I struggling?

She doesn’t let me reply, getting up and walking out. I get up to follow her but she’s vanished in the crowd, so I sit, letting my coffee grow colder, thinking about her.

~~~~~

“Ellie this is a bad idea.”

“Common. Meeks is bringing Harley and Kirstey. You love Harley. You can babysit!” my little sister is determined, although my fighting is useless as we drag our suitcases through the airport.

“Chloe is going to be there El.”

“Chloe is going to be here.” I nearly bump into her as she stops in front of us.

“And she’ll be your plane buddy.” The cheeky grin I was once so familiar with graces her face and I can feel the corner of my own lips twitching as my heart clenches. Fuck.

“Oh goody.” I try to ignore the sweat that begins to prick through my skin as Ellie stalks away from us to meet Emily Gielnik.

-

“Real talk.” Chloe’s face is serious as soon as we take our seats on the plane.

“I miss you, and I want to try this again. I get you may not want to but you can’t tell me you don’t still feel even the tiniest bit of love for me still.” Her finger waggles back and forth between as to indicate exactly what she’s talking about and I sigh.

“I miss you too…” I meet her eyes and I can see the hope that grows behind them.

“But if we try this out again, we have to take it slow. Like go out on a few dates to start with.”

“I can do that.” She eagerly nods her head in agreement.

“I’d really like that.” I smile back at her, and that seems to end the conversation.

As the engine rumbles and we begin moving along the tarmac, I rest my arm on the armrest. I gently slide my hand into Chloe’s and rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes. Maybe slow wasn’t necessary, I love her too much.

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

Instagram robertlicuria

Hublander: A visit to the Highlands was the first ever convention for the global phenomenon that is "Outlander," with the stars of the show in Sydney today and Melbourne tomorrow. We had a great time watching the Q&A panels and meeting star Sam Heughan backstage.

The full video interview will go live at Gold Derby next week.

Hublander Sydney 24 February 2024

[leftnotright]

A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CHAPTER 5: EVEN IF WE GOTTA RISK IT ALL

Dino’s coffee table was covered in papers, every page of debt he had available on display with their numbers highlighted and circled. Open on his computer was an internet window with several tabs all squashed together along the top. Dino reached over and moved his cursor across the words: ‘MELBOURNE CUP 2022 WINNINGS FIRST PLACE: $4,400,000’. 

“A bonus of $500,000 for the owner, if their horse won the group one Irish St. Leger run the previous September,” Dino uttered slowly, reading the details of the Melbourne Cup with slow, careful eyes. He penned it down.

The Melbourne Cup didn’t have the largest purse in horse racing, just a bit of skimming had told Dino that. On a notepad, Dino had written down: ‘ DUBAI WORLD CUP $7.2MIL, KENTUCKY DERBY $1.8MIL, THE EVEREST $6.2MIL (IN SYDNEY!)’

But out of all the horse races, especially in the catchment of Australia, the Melbourne Cup had, by far, the greatest reputation. ‘The race that stops the nation’. What a title.

If Dino were to try and get more bang for his buck, he’d have been wiser to go for the Everest or Dubai. However, Dino wasn’t trying to be a one-hit wonder. With the Melbourne Cup came fame, a name backing his horses and the Cavallone brand. If Dino won the Melbourne Cup, it would only make enrolling in richer races all the more simple. 

A meagre four million wasn’t going to put much of a dent in the Cavallone’s debts. No, winning one race wasn’t going to pull them out of the red. Dino was going to be in this for the long haul, participating in one race after another. 

 He needed numbers. As many hooves on the track as possible to increase his chances of winning high positions if not first place. The more horses Dino had in the races, the more prize money he could rake in - and hopefully, break even.

Racing costs money. 

Training, for both jockey and horse. Transportation, feeding, accommodation, equipment and uniforms. All of that came after the original enrollment payments, and for the Melbourne Cup, there were rounds of it. Three to be exact. 

And that was just the Melbourne Cup. 

Dino grimaced and sipped a cup of water, blessedly cold after Dino had found the ice rack in the freezer. He put the glass against his temple and sighed.

There wasn’t much more he could do by himself. Before Dino ran off with this idea, with all his hopeful ‘what if’s and ‘we could’s, Dino would have to present his case to the Family. And since this was going to involve the horses and a whopping portion of the Cavallone funds, he was going to have to talk to the Stable Master and the Vault Keeper. 

That was a full-blown Family Meeting, Dino had never called one of those before! The last time Dino had even seen the Vault Keeper was-

Dino took a slow breath and concentrated on the feeling of cold perspiration dripping down the side of his face. 

The last time Dino had seen the Vault Keeper was the day of his succession and within the hour of his father’s death. 

The Stable Master, at least, Dino knew quite well. 

“Okay,” Dino murmured to Enzo who peeked out from under the coffee table. “For a formal Family Meeting, who do I need to call? Right Hand, Stable Master, Vault Keeper, probably the Head of Housekeeping to keep them in the loop and-” Dino winced, “Available Guardians.”

The Cavallone Don groaned as he flopped back on the couch, still holding that glass to his forehead to try and ward off that headache he felt creeping up on him. 

It wasn’t working. 

☁ ☁ ☁

 The first thing Vic noticed when Dino stumbled into class was that he was all but dead on his feet. The poor guy was slumped over in his seat, resting heavily on the desk in front of him. 

 Vic came and found her seat next to Dino at their group’s table. She unpacked her laptop and produced a folder, full of the handouts and the straws and blu-tack for their activity. 

“How’re you doing?” Vic asked, and gave Dino a gentle nudge.

Dino’s arm slipped out from under his jaw and his head hit the desk with a ‘ bang! ’. Vic cursed as heads snapped around and quickly moved to scoop up Dino’s head, hissing at the red mark on the boy’s forehead.

“Fuck,” she wheezed and Dino blinked widely, very much awake now. “You’re in a fucking state! When did you go to bed?”

“Uuuh,” Dino squinted as he rubbed his head, “The, uh-”

Vic had the sudden and horrible feeling that this boy hadn’t actually gone to sleep that night. She looked to her folder, then to the lesson’s tutor who was setting up the projector for the day’s rostered presentation: Social Class.

Oh fuck.

Where the hell was Jess? Vic looked at her phone and saw a text in the group chat.

Jessica Cheng

Hi guys, really sorry the trains are being replaced by buses, I’m gonna be like 10 minutes late. 

Jessica Cheng

Can we just move the activity after Vic and I’ll come in last?

Jessica Cheng

I’ll sprint it, I promise

Vic twitched and looked at the clock. They were only required to speak for three minutes each. Dino looked like he could speak for less. 

She groaned and rubbed her head before sending a text back.

Vic Hunt

Sure, we’ll buy you time.

Jessica Cheng

Kk see you soon

Jessica went abruptly offline then and Vic only hoped she was able to get across campus fast enough. 

“I will be okay,” Dino grumbled from inside his pillow of arms. “May speak, uh, slowly. But it will be done.”

Vic looked to Dino and then slumped in her chair. She took a breath through her nose and out her mouth, her feet pressed hard into the carpeted floor. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, we’ll be fine.”

“Dino, Jessica and Vic,” the tutor called and Vic grimaced.

By the end of their tutorial, Jess had scampered off to catch her bus home and Dino and Vic had chosen a sunny patch of grass by the Macquarie University's lake to wallow on. Vic was laid out on her back, her limbs still throbbing with nerves after public speaking adlib with Jess coming not ten, but fifteen minutes late to class. 

Vic was sure she had covered the same point twice with multiple stutters and ‘uh’s. 

“That sucked,” Vic whined loudly.

Dino appeared in her peripheral, sat at her side, and gave a weak smile of agreement. Vic had no idea what he was talking about. Despite his loose hold on English - that was only getting better, she kept reminding him - he had spoken with some kind of damning confidence in his voice that made Vic want to kick him in the shins for making her think he was going to all but faint on her. He spoke like he was used to presenting to groups of people! The bastard!

Vic frowned at him severely, before rolling over in the grass and burying her face in her backpack.

“I believe we- we did very well!” Dino assured and Vic huffed when he gave her a pat on the back. Then under his breath she heard him whisper, “How are you not sweaty?”

“Not everyone had pores like a waterfall,” Vic answered before turning her head and asked, “And what the fuck Dino? You were acting like you were going to die when we got up to speak but as soon as we got that slide up you might have well have been Steve fucking Jobs releasing the new iPhone!”

Dino blinked, and then he curled in on himself. His ears flushed red and Vic had the sudden and intense urge to ask if he had put sunscreen on them today. 

“I, uh, hesitated a lot.”

“No more than I fucking did,” Vic pointed out, “And dude your projection. The teacher had to ask Jess to speak up -- and asked me to slow down. Your pacing was spot on!”

Once again, Dino ducked his head and Vic was reminded of Enzo recoiling back after bumping into her thermos during a study session. 

“You know what? Fuck it, you’re helping me with my public speaking skills from now on. You could sell water to a drowning man.” Vic demanded, before reaching out and poking at Dino’s cargo shorts’ pocket. “Now, release the baby.”

Dino laughed and unpacked Enzo from his pocket, the little turtle stubbornly hiding in his shell even when he was placed on the grass between them, safely in Dino’s shadow. Vic grinned and rolled over to her side, cooing happily as the presence of Enzo soothed her academically injured soul.

 “Hello! Oh hello,” Vic chirped, a complete one-eighty flip from the grumpy, huffy mood she had been in before. “He’s not coming out.”

“Too much sun,” Dino offered, gesturing to the heat that bathed the whole lake despite the students that spotted the valley.  

Vic hummed, it didn’t feel too hot to her. But then again, Enzo had spent most of his life in Italy with Dino. Then she poked Enzo’s shell and saw an eye peeking out at her in great disgruntlement.

“Wait,” Vic sat up and stared at the lake. “Wait, he's a turtle, he can go in the lake! A nice swimmy!” 

Dino’s head snapped around. 

 “After being in your stuffy-ass pocket, a good swim must be exactly what he needs!” Vic insisted, grinning with teeth again.

Dino snatched Enzo up off the ground before Vic could grab him, a nervous smile on his face and a whole new sheet of sweat going down his neck. 

“No! No, uh, Enzo is a- a saltwater turtle! I do not know if the lake water will agree with him.”

Vic paused. Fuck he was right. She winced and scratched the back of her head, feeling bits of grass and leaves come out. 

“Right, sorry, didn’t think about that.” 

God that was a dick move. What was she going to do, grab someone’s emotional support turtle and dump it wherever? Think it through Vic!

“It is okay,” Dino assured, and Vic nearly jumped when he touched her arm -- wow, his hand was moist. “It wouldn’t have hurt him. Enzo is a strong boy.”

Then he reached across and gently placed Enzo in her lap, still once again in his shadow. 

“I don’t think he is liking how warm I am,” Dino laughed.

Vic looked down at Enzo in her lap, then to Dino’s open face. She tucked her chin into her chest and bit down on her smile.

Vic spun and flopped back onto her back with a huff, relaxing all over as she lay in the sun. On her stomach, she felt Enzo shuffle around until he settled on the soft, pillowy space of her stomach.

Dino reached into his pocket and fed the still-hiding Enzo a pellet at a time.

“So, what were you even doing for the whole night?” Vic asked.

Dino shrugged, “Uh, I’ve been investigating. Learning about horse racing, and dealing with some Family issues.” 

Vic hummed lowly, “You’re really keen on that racing idea.”

Dino smiled, and leant back on his hands, voice quiet as he said, “If we can race again…It may save my Family.”

Vic blinked, then tilted her head as she observed him. Vic had only known Dino for little over just a month now, but she felt like she had a loose, if not a reasonable, grasp on one of Dino’s core values: Family.

To Dino, family always comes first. In fact, most of their conversations had at some point turned to family. Dino, at this point, could list off all of Vic’s cousins, aunts and uncles, and Vic was sure she would have to fight Romario for adoption rights.

The ‘Dino Adoption’ debate had become a rather hot topic in the Hunt Houses, a split between factions: To-Adopt, and Not-To-Adopt. Not-To-Adopt was dwindling in numbers, however, with every Dino or University-centric rant Vic sent home. Robbie’s crown was slipping, and Vic’s mum had started a guest bedroom Pinterest inspo-board. 

Vic, her mum and her grandma had been steadfastly ignoring Robbie’s screaming voice messages that ‘we don’t even have a spare room!’

Her dad had always liked carpentry, Vic was sure he’d come up with something. He was always rather smart with his hands — something Vic’s mum liked to sing praises of until someone begged her to shut up over a sea of gagging children. Maybe he’d build a barnyard style granny-flat. Speaking of barns—

“So, like, you’ve been breeding horses for years. You got any cute ones? Like, ones that are fluffy?”

Vic felt like she had at least a loose grip on Dino, and nothing got ‘horse girl’ Dino talking like his horses. Only ask for photos if you’ve got the next few hours free. Dino’s Econ tutorial had been cancelled, they had the whole day.    

The things Vic did to keep her soon-to-be-adopted Dino happy. 

Dino was already fumbling for his phone by the time Vic had uttered the words ‘fluffy’. 

“We have this Przewalski Mongolian! Ah! Beautiful coat! So good to brush, and when she’s freshly bathed!?” 

Dino turned his phone and Vic wheezed at the horse, covered in thick packed fuzz and fur. 

“Oh God, hugging that? Fuckin’ bliss,” Vic all but swooned. “I wanna be squished between two.”

Then she paused, sat up and squinted at the corner of Dino’s screen.

“Gimme that.” Vic took Dino’s phone despite the squawk of alarm and zoomed out to see what Dino had tried to hide. 

In the background of the photo was an early highschool-aged Dino, sporting braces on his teeth and several bandaids all over, and being dragged by the waist of his pants by some huge stallion. The panic and flurry of multiple stablehands and Romario himself attempting to save Dino, a direct contrast to the peaceful grazing of the Mongolian in the foreground. 

Vic snorted before wheezing out her whole lung capacity. Enzo gave a disgruntled click and slipped off Vic’s jumping stomach as she continued to laugh, only fuelled by Dino’s betrayed and indignant babbling. 

Dino lept to take his phone back, but their squabble of hands shifted and zoomed until baby-Dino’s face, crumpled and folded in unflattering fear, took up the screen. Vic doubled over again, cackling with belly and teeth.

Dino huffed as he stole back his phone and moved the picture on screen safely back into his camera roll. He crossed his arms and waited for Vic to be done.

 She took a huge breath, glanced at Dino's face, and then promptly let out another belt of laughter.

 “It was not that funny!” Dino scolded, helping Enzo up into his lap.

 “It was!” Vic gasped, and Dino gave her a smack on the arm.

 “Ah! Abuse! In front of the child!”

 “Enzo has seen worse.”

 “No, my baby,” Vic cried quietly, and rolled over to mourn the sweet turtle’s lost innocence.

 Dino huffed and shifted on the spot, phone in his hands.

 “...We also have a new Haflinger foal,” he said and, this time with an iron grip on his phone, showed Vic the knobbly-kneed foal beside its mother.

 Vic snorted and settled down in the sunbathed grass to be once again regaled of the Cavallone’s prized herd. As always, Dino spoke rapidly. Stumbling over words, ‘ahs’ and ‘ums’, repetition and mistakes not slowing him down in the least as he raved about the last Spring’s yield of four new foals. What Vic couldn’t understand through a thick accent or patchy English-Italian half-words, Vic could fill in with the side gestures Dino made. Vic had heard that Italians spoke with their hands, and Dino was only supporting that stereotype as he drew the shape of a massive mare.

 “Nearly two me’s!” Dino exclaimed.

 Vic imagined a horse that stood well over her own height and immediately felt the need to climb on one. She’d never ridden a horse before, but surely you just, like, clamber up and hold on for dear life.

Dino’s great tale was interrupted, however, when a shrill, aghast voice cut through the afternoon.

“ What the fuck is that!? ”

Dino’s head snapped around and Vic sat up as she saw a girl break off from her group and come storming over. The rest of her group were calling out to her, one of them tried to grab her by her bag.

Vic blinked slowly as the girl came to a stop at Dino’s side, her hackles raised with some kind of righteous anger in her eyes. 

Vic glanced to Dino and asked, “Ah, this your ex or something?”

Dino looked to Vic with wild confusion, “I do not know, I-”

“This is illegal!” The girl snapped and Dino let out a yelp as her hand lashed out and scooped up the still-tucked Enzo. 

In an instant, that warm calm that had utterly steeped Vic’s body flushed out.  

“Oi!” Vic bellowed and sprung to her feet, fists clenched. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

A hot anger boiled in Vic’s blood, Dino’s horror-struck expression only fueling it as he tried to organise himself and ask for Enzo back.

“This!” The girl shouted again, shoving Enzo in Vic’s face, and then Dino’s. “Is an incredibly invasive species! It is illegal to have a Red Eared Slider turtle in Australia!”

“He’s not a Red Slider, you fuck!” Vic seethed, “Enzo’s a Sponge turtle!”

“Look at this shell-”

“Look at his fucking face! ”  

“It's invasive!”

“He’s the wrong fucking species! ” Vic shouted and went to grab Enzo back.

The girl backed out of reach and held Enzo to her chest, loud, angry clicking coming from inside his shell. 

“Red Eared Sliders are aggressive and utterly destroy Australia’s natural freshwater habitats! It needs to be handed over to RSPCA so they can ship it out or put it down!”

Dino gave a sharp gasp of alarm and Vic saw red. 

The hold she had on her temper snapped like a thread pulled taut and with heat in her skin, she lunged forward. Vic went at the girl with nails and elbows. She swiped and poor Enzo went flying in a direction she blindly hoped was Dino’s, a soft ‘aaaaaaaaaaa’ emitting from the shell as it disappeared from her tunnel vision.

The girl screamed as Vic got her hands on her, and threw her whole body weight to send the girl head over heels. She hit the water with an almighty splash, and a flock of ducks noisily took flight.

Vic breathed ragged through her teeth, fists clenched. Her temper, white-hot and utterly boiling her blood, was only slightly settled by the sight of the shell-shocked girl sitting, drenched in the lake.

“Who’s the fucking ‘invasive species’ now, bitch!?” Vic bellowed.

"Got to go, got to go!" Dino chanted near hysterically as he grabbed Vic by her arm and started running.

Vic with gritted teeth and tense shoulders, let Dino drag her across the field and towards the Village. She huffed when she nearly crashed into Dino’s back as he came to a sudden, slow walk. Dino, casually, innocently, walked with Vic passed Campus Security as they sailed passed in their little golf carts.

Vic snorted through her nose and gave Dino’s back a scrutinising look but couldn’t be bothered to see past her own heat haze. 

The gates of the Village came into view and Vic stormed forward, taking heavy, stomped footsteps all the way through to her shitty five-bedroom dormhouse, with her shitty roommates, who didn’t respect her fucking personal space-!

Vic hit her bed facedown. Calm down, calm down, calm fucking down!

Faintly, in the far back of her awareness, Vic heard Dino sit in her creaking desk chair and the thump of him dropping their bags. Dino was such a good boy - what was he doing when Enzo was taken she didn’t look - he was so nice and warm - he walked passed the security didn’t even flinch knew what to do-

Vic rolled onto her back and took a breath in through her nose and out her mouth. In and out, in and out. That girl had said to put Enzo down. Dino’s support animal, someone he took everywhere with him no matter what - Dino needed Enzo and that girl said ‘put down’. 

Vic took another breath in. She clenched her fists. A breath out and clenched her forearms- Why wasn’t it working-

There was a roar in her ears, a thundering thump in her chest.

Then a weight dropped on her stomach, just substantial enough that Vic started out of her rambling spiral. Vic lifted her head and craned her neck, Enzo’s big, beady eyes stared back up at her.

Enzo looked around slowly, before his feet popped out from his shell and, slowly, he plodded up to find a comfortable place on Vic’s chest. 

Just behind Enzo, Vic could see Dino, his hands still outstretched from where he had dropped Enzo on her.

Dino smiled a bit, an awkward, lopsided thing, and said, “Enzo, he, uh, helps me be calm.”

Vic blinked, before she let out a puff of breath. She dropped her head back and used Enzo’s weight to try and sink that rising heat. She felt that familiar rumble in her chest swell and grow, and she let it out in a long, gaping yawn.

Vic hated getting angry, she was always tired afterwards.

Vic sniffed and scratched her cheek, her body heavy right down to the core like her bones were waterlogged. 

“You wanna eat somethin’?” Vic asked.

Dino paused, startled, before he lowered himself to sit on the edge of Vic’s bed and said, “Yeah, what would you like?”

“Chicken nuggets. So many chicken nuggets.”

☁ ☁ ☁

Greasy wrappers and stray grains of salt littered the foot of Vic’s bed as the two of them sat up against the wall, Vic’s phone playing music in the background. Dino heaved as he slumped against the wall. He had eaten an obscene amount of nuggets and sweet and sour sauce.

Vic, somehow, was still going. 40 chicken nuggets, and so far 17 of them were sitting in the seemingly bottomless chasm of Vic’s belly.

Dino slurped on his cola as Vic, unflinchingly, ate her 18th and reached for another. 

“How’s Enzo?” Vic asked through half a mouthful of nugget. 

Dino looked to the turtle that, more or less, had put them into hiding for the foreseeable future — or at least until the blurry video of ‘bodily yeeting entitled Karen into lake’ stopped popping up on Dino’s feed every time he refreshed it. It had become a meme template. The speed of the internet was terrifying.

Vic, hearing the grainy sound of her own voice hollering “Who’s the fucking ‘invasive species’ now, bitch!?” shoved her 20th nugget into her mouth. 

Dino winced and closed his phone. 

“Enzo is fine. I told you, he is hardy.”

Vic grumbled and reached to pet Enzo, who paused his munching on a bag of mixed leaves Vic had pulled from a cooler - an ‘esky’ - in the corner of her room. There were three, all stacked on each other and full of chilled foodstuffs.  

Dino glanced at Vic and saw the 24th nugget disappear. He had already seen a fridge in the shared kitchen on the way up to the room. Now, maybe, wasn’t the best time to ask.

Nonetheless, Dino stored it in his memory, another conversation starter!

Vic’s phone suddenly stopped playing music, and the screen flipped to an incoming call. Vic sighed and shoved her last nugget in her mouth before answering the call from ‘Robbie’.

“What?” She asked, muffled around her chicken nugget.

Dino took another sip of his drink as Vic leant her head on his shoulder. 

Casual touch. Dino hadn't experienced that in… Weeks. It had only just dawned on him how much he had missed it after leaving home. 

Dino shifted a bit to make sure he was comfortable - both for him and Vic. He almost felt like someone priming their lap with blankets, hoping the family cat would choose them for the foreseeable hours.

Dino's rather cosy trail of thought was interrupted by the caller on Vic's phone.

“You fucking threw someone into a lake!?” Robbie screeched from the other side of the phone.

Vic made a lazy, noncommittal noise as she slowly chewed, completely unhurried by the state her brother was apparently in. 

“Vicky, I thought you were over this!”

Vic proceeded to mutter something vaguely mocking through her chewing. Dino snorted a bit despite how he tried to send her a scolding look. Vic ignored him.

“Jesus Christ, Vicky- Why’d you even do it!?”

Vic took a sip of her frozen coke and simply said, “Bitch tried to take Dino’s turtle.”

There was a faint bang, and then a distinctly loud bang. Then came the scream of Robbie being tackled and the fight for the phone.

“Bitch did what to Enzo!?”

Dino glanced to Vic. He had been wondering where she had sent all those turtle pictures — evidently, a good bulk had gone to Bec, her cousin.

“Crazy cunt fucking stole Enzo out of Dino’s lap like he was a Woolies apple and started going on about ‘invasive species’ and ‘putting him down’ and like fuck was I gonna let her talk shit like that!” Vic ranted, waving her cup at the far window like her cousin was standing before them.

There was a pause, before there was a chorus of approval in the background. At least four voices all chipped in with their opinions and Dino was hit with the sudden realisation that there was a roomful of Hunts on the other end of that line.

“You should have thrown her deeper, Vicky!”

“Strengthen those little chicken wings! You’ve gotta start going to the gym!”

“Don’t support this!” Robbie yelled over the cheering and was met with a round of ‘boo’s.

“Oi, we always back family! Even if they’re doing something kinda stupid — we always back our family!”

Dino stared down at the bubbles patterning the sides of his waxed paper cup. Family always backs each other.

“Dino and Enzo are my babies, I’m not letting some half-cocked bitch make ‘em sad,” Vic scoffed and wrapped an arm around him — tipping a bit of ice down the back of his shirt as she did. Not entirely by accident, if Vic’s snicker meant anything as he frantically tried to get it out.

As Dino finally got the last of the ice out from the waist of his pants, Dino saw Vic grin up at him with the usual amount of teeth. He huffed and couldn’t resist smiling back at her.

Romario was going to be so proud of him. Everyone was going to be proud of him! 

Family backs each other, even in their riskiest of endeavours.

“If you wanna adopt the bastard, you’ve gotta stop being violent in public!”

There were jeers and the bellowing of a crowd of people and Vic slipped off Dino’s shoulder and back onto her bed, phone pressed to her ear. 

Dino looked down at Vic as she listened to her family through the phone. She looked the most relaxed he had seen her in — probably ever. Distinctly, it wasn't that strange, almost sedated calm that followed Vic around usually. This calm was the most human he had seen, the most natural.

Dino looked down at Vic, who laid with her eyes closed and her family screaming in her ear, and found himself wondering what kind of Flame she had hidden dormant.

Then, there was a loud crash from Vic's phone and the line went dead, someone had obviously slapped the end button with their elbow or face in the scuffle. Vic scoffed as the music on her phone resumed and she let it drop to the side of the pillow, already pawing around for her frozen coke.

Dino watched her fingertips graze the edge, collecting droplets of perspiration. He nudged it slightly further out of reach. 

"Cunt," Vic hissed and Dino laughed as she uncoordinatedly smacked the side of her calf against his head.

Vic gave a heave of great effort and distress as she rolled onto her belly, finally grasping her slushy drink in hand. She took a long slurp before she craned her neck to look at Enzo, only his little tail visible as he dug deeper into the pile of leafy greens.

"I will not be able to bring Enzo out of my pocket for a time," Dino sighed and saw Vic blow disgruntled bubbles into her slushy.

"Yeah," she bit out, keeping whatever loaded rant she had shoved deep away. 

 Dino smiled weakly and took another drink of his cola, a loud, empty slurp that rattled the straw. Then Dino looked around at Vic's room, the cramped desk, the stacked eskys.

 "If you want," Dino started and leant back on a hand, trying to be nonchalant-

 Vic's body pillow didn't take his weight and Dino gave a gurgled yelp as his arm gave way and he fell. His head connected painfully with Vic's bony knees, Vic gave a gasp of pain and Dino clutched his head. 

 Soon, the two of them sat on the bed, two young adults curled up in groaning pain.

 "What the fuck, Dino?" Vic wheezed, holding her knees as they throbbed.

 "Sorry," Dino whined as the beginnings of a headache settled deep in his right temple. "I wanted to ask you if you would like to meet at my house. Enzo cannot meet you outside for a while."

 Vic massaged her knees before she kicked Dino in the side.

 “Fucking oath I am! Thought that was a fucking given!” 

 Dino winced as Vic kicked him in the side again, before, tentatively, Dino lightly thumped his foot against the back of Vic’s thigh. There was a distinct, fleshy ‘thwap’.

 A pause hung in the air, and Dino had the familiar sensation of social-faux-pas-dread settle in the bottom of his stomach—

 Dino heard something akin to an elated warcry from the other end of the bed, and all seventy kilos of Vic’s weight came crashing down on him, twenty-four nuggets and all. Dino wheezed and the two became a brawling wrangle of slapping hands and kicking feet, all up until Vic rolled and kicked Dino off the side of the bed. 

 Dino shrieked and clawed at the sheets until he went tumbling, shoulders-first to the floor. He gasped, splayed out on his back on the dorm’s musty carpet and stared up at Vic’s ceiling, dotted with weird marks.

 Vic’s face appeared from over the edge, a smug, vindictive curl to her grin. 

 “Cunt,” she said.

 Dino grabbed his cup, sloshing with half-melted ice cubes, and grabbed Vic by her beloved oversized band-tee and dumped it. 

 Vic shrieked and Dino couldn’t help the belly-deep cackling that burst out as he watched Vic frantically scoop at her bra under her shirt.

☁ ☁ ☁

 It had taken a bit over ten days and several nervous breakdowns, cushioned by either Enzo or Vic, but Dino felt like he was ready to call for a Family Meeting of the Cavallone. Or, well, he wasn’t seconds away from cardiac arrest at the thought of it, now.

 Dino wheezed a bit. Now, he just needed to get in contact with Romario and set it up.

 Dino reached for his phone. He hadn’t tried to contact home in a while. Between university, Vic, races, and his bi-weekly laying-on-the-floor-in-crisis time, Dino hadn’t had the chance to call home in…nearly six weeks now! Going on seven! They were fresh into April, nearly mid-semester break, and Dino hadn’t called since February.

 This was probably, no, definitely, the longest Dino hadn’t gone without contact with the Cavallone. 

 Seeing Vic listening to her family, had reminded Dino of just how much he missed them. Dino just wondered if anyone would pick up, or if Reborn’s contact-ban was still in place.

 Dino withered and dialled Romario’s quick-dial, and uttered a short prayer. It rang once, twice—

 “Boss!” 

 Dino suddenly understood why Vic had just laid down and listened. He could hear so much through the phone. Familiar songbirds, the chatter of Cavallone stablehands and the bray of horses. Suddenly, Dino was hit with the smell of the stables in early Spring; the fresh sand and straw they laid on the muddy ground, the lavender and wild rosemary that grew outside, the sweat and manure.

 Dino wanted to be like Vic and just curl up on his side and listen. 

 “Boss! How have you been!?” Romario asked and Dino heard the clammer and cacophony of news in the background: the Boss had finally called home.

 God, Dino had missed the sound of Italian; a good Sicilian accent.

 “I’m fine, Romario. I’ve still got all my fingers and toes,” Dino assured with a laugh. “I’ve got some killer tanlines, though.”

 “Good! After your exams you were far too pasty looking!”

 Dino rolled his eyes, this wasn’t the first time Romario had feared a potential vitamin-D deficiency.

 “So, tell me, what have you been up to?” Romario urged, and Din could just imagine him leant up against the gates of the stables in his singlet and jeans.

 Dino relaxed into the couch, Enzo snoozed in his luggage-enclosure. 

 “Class is hard,” Dino admitted, “I’ve gotta use Google translate and listen to lectures twice as long. If I didn’t have Vic to help me, I would have absolutely bombed on the vocabulary mini-test!”

 At some point, the update had turned into Dino’s whinging time - but could you really blame him? For months, Dino had been left to flail alone in this strange country, and he didn’t even have the English skills to vent properly to his one friend—

 “I’ve-!” Dino started loudly, a rush of pride returning when he remembered his shining achievement. “I’ve made a friend!”

 There was a beat of silence, before someone far away gasped, “ What?”

 “I’ve made a friend!” Dino repeated, “Her name’s Vic!”

 “A woman!?”

 “She’s really nice! She loves Enzo! She threw someone in the lake for us! And she bought us chicken nuggets!” 

 Dino grinned as he regaled Romario and their menagerie of eavesdroppers about the many adventures he had been on with Vic around the university and to the nearby shopping centres. 

 Dino decided to omit the part where he got lost in the Kmart homewares section, and had to go to the front desk so they could call for Vic over the announcement system. ‘Attention customers, could 'Vic Hunt' please come to the front of the store to collect your…child?’ was still engraved in Dino’s head, along with the stares from the staff. Vic had all but run through the store to get him. By then, Dino had been offered a snake-shaped lolly, half of which Vic stole, and held his hand the rest of the shop so neither got lost in that department store maze. 

 Instead, Dino moved onto how he and Vic met almost daily to study and chat, and how she liked to listen about the horses — Dino nearly flung himself off the couch when he snapped up, suddenly reminded of what this phone call was about.

 “Romario,” Dino said and heard the excited chatter fall silent at his tone. “I want to call a Family Meeting.”

 Romario’s shift was immediate.

 “What for, Boss?”

Dino could hear him move away from the stable and the working hands.

“I’ve been thinking about the state of the Family and the few resources we have. Being so far from home has, well, it’s given me a new perspective.” Dino said slowly, knowing he was about to broach a sensitive subject. “The Cavallone need to use our horses again. The Cavallone need to race again.”

Romario took a sharp, hissed breath in through his teeth. Racing was taboo.

“Boss,” he began shakily, like some part of him expected the ghost of the Eight Boss to enact vengeance upon them. “The Cavallone have been banned for nearly one hundred years!”

“In Italy,” Dino pointed out, looking down at the list of races all around the world. “And only in Mafia circles.”

“You want to race civilians?” Romario asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. “Our Cavallone horses, against civilians? ”

“Yes,” Dino responded, “Our horses. Our… untrained horses.” Dino suddenly felt that cardiac arrest creeping up again. “We need money. Racing is lucrative.”

He gripped his trousers until his knuckles were white. “Please, Romario.” Dino’s voice was quiet in the empty, dark living room. “I believe this will work. I believe this, our horses, can save our Family.”

Romario was silent.

Dino let him work through his thoughts. He knew he was asking for a lot, and for Romario to stick his neck out for Dino. Romario was the one who would have to act as proxy and call everyone to the Meeting, and in doing so, show complete faith in Dino’s plan.

Romario’s voice came through the speaker. “Very well, Boss. I’ll organise the Meeting. Will tomorrow suit you?”

A relieved smile broke out on Dino's face. “Whenever. We’ll have to work with timezones, anyway.”

“Ten hours, right? I will see what I can do.”

Dino let out a long sigh, feeling nearly lightheaded. “Thank you, Romario.”

“Of course, Boss,” Romario hummed, “Get some rest, it must be late.”

Dino looked at his clock, 2AM. He needed to go to sleep, he had class at 10AM. 

“Boss, you should send us photos now that we can talk again. Is Australia really all just desert and city?”

“What? No, there’s plenty of greenery and water here!” Dino laughed, “But it’s hot. A different hot to home. Vic has been busy making sure I don’t get heat stroke.”

“Sounds nice, it’s still cold here. But by the time you’re home, it’ll be warm. You come at the end of your semester, right? June?”

“Yeah, June to August, Winter break. Vic will be miserable, she loves warmth. Like a lizard.”

Romario laughed and Dino let himself flop across his couch. They had just said Dino should have gone to bed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to hang up. Not after so long without his Family. 

“So your friend, Vic, is she a local?” 

“Yeah, Vic’s from Australia,” Dino hummed, and grabbed a pillow to cuddle, sleep beginning to press against the back of his eyes. “She says she was born around here, actually. But her family has moved to, uh, Castle-something. Has a new baby cousin she wants to see.”

“And you said she’s been keeping you alive,” Romario chuckled and Dino gave some kind of senseless whine of indignation.

“Only- Kinda, yeah, but like, leave me alone maybe?” Dino grumbled, before rolling over on the couch, “How’s everyone at home doing?”

Dino cuddled into the throw pillow and listened as Romario recited the usual reports on the comings and goings of the Cavallone estate. It was the usual chaos, with a bit of a curve ball thrown in with the Boss away. But Romario, as usual, managed to wrangle everything under control, especially with the Stable Master acting as the Cavallone regent. 

They were still receiving their local import of barley and hay at a steady pace, and the farmers had offered a ‘loyalty perk’ after generations of working together. Dino nearly teared up as he heard how they had reduced their prices by 10%. He made sure to make Romario write down the family name of every farmer, the Cavallone would always be loyal to them. 

The Ninth’s Guardians were still responding to messages, but only enough to assure that they weren’t dead. Even then, only Croix was handling correspondence. Really, the only evidence that the rest of the Guardians were still around was Croix’s word and the Cavallone delivery boys that dropped off supplies to them. Getting them out to the Family Meeting was probably going to be the hardest, they hardly left the Ranch anymore.

Dino frowned and clutched his pillow. He had been worried about his uncles. Losing a Sky was never easy, and Guardians could only outlive their Harmony with so much grace.

One of the younger Cavallone wards had finally been able to manifest a Flame expression. Though, it was scratching some heads with its Frequency. It was probably just a weird expression, maybe some kind of strong Secondary coming through. They hoped the kid settled down soon, it was causing their carers concern. 

Well that was concerning, Dino hummed and sleepily instructed that the child would be put under watch. 

Brutus got bit on the ass by a mule that morning. It was his own fault, he should have known better than to be off-guard in the presence of one of the biters. The Stablehands had a good laugh out of it and everyone had a good look at the pattern on his boxers. 

Dino snorted and relaxed, listening as the accounts became less and less important, Romario’s reports devolving into mindless updates on the little things Dino missed around the place in the time he was gone. He closed his eyes and opened his ears to the sound of Romario and that far off island of Sicily he so missed.

The next morning, Dino received the notification for the Family Meeting’s appointed time: 8PM. 10AM on the Italian’s side.

He spent the time between classes preparing, making notes, practising his delivery. Anything to get rid of the shake in his knees and the quiver in his voice. Vic had noticed and had offered Dino a sympathetic hiss when she had heard the abridged summary.

“Hey,” she said, giving Dino a gentle shove with her elbow. “If you want, I’ll drop by after the call? We can hang out, get some food?”

Then she had bought him something sweet from the student cafe to perk him up before they parted ways. Dino was always grateful that he managed to make a friend all the way out here.

Dino nibbled on the frankly monstrously-sized cookie as he went about setting up his computer and space, trying to hold his treat in a way that wouldn’t melt the choc chips. He moved a bag of takeaway wrappers out from behind his couch and finally made the trip to the bin, taking a few wrappers and packages of assorted socks. 

He fluffed the couch’s throw pillows and quickly brought that random, dying succulent to the back porch. He was in the middle of gently encouraging the fake Monstera plant to sit right when the chime for the meeting rang out. 

Dino gasped and vaulted for the couch, completely overshooting it and slamming face-first into the narrow space between the couch and coffee table.

“Good to see the boy hasn’t changed.”

Dino’s face went red and he began his squirming crawl to try and get his feet out of the air and back under him. 

“I thought you gave up trying to do handstands when you were little Dino!” Came that teasing, smoker-rough voice and Dino finally flipped himself right-side up.

“I wasn’t trying to do a handstand, Uncle Croix!”

The Rain Guardian to the late Ninth Cavallone and Dino’s Uncle in every sense but blood grinned at him through the screen. He was a jovial man that was going well grey, with a short-boxed beard lining framing his jaw and crows feet pinching the corners of his eyes. 

“Young Romario tells me you’ve been good and roasted down there in Australia! Remember to keep away from the sun, or you’ll end up looking like Anvil, all patchy and leather skinned!” Croix powered on and Dino resisted the urge to sink into his chair, knowing that once Croix was rolling, nothing short of an all out gunfight could stop him.

“Let the boy talk, Croy,” the Stablemaster groused, and Dino looked to the second panel where the rest of the Meeting’s attendants sat.

The Stablemaster, the Vault Keeper, the Head of Housekeeping, and Romario all sat around the one board table they had left, and were turned in their seats to face him. The Vault Keeper sat there, nearly unmoving. If it weren’t for the rest of the room, Dino would have thought the camera was frozen.

Dino started to sweat. The last time he had seen all these faces at once, his father had been a cooling body in the next room. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Boss, we can begin,” Romario urged, and Dino snapped to attention.

“Right,” he said, and looked at his notes just to the side of the computer, written on a little notepad. 

Vic at some point had drawn a small dick on the corner of the first hundred or so pages. Up until literally just now, Dino had thought it was a lop-sided heart. 

Dino let out a short snort. He took a breath, and with Vic’s supportive presence in the form of a collection of penned dicks, he began.

“I believe it is safe to say that we are all aware of the state of the Cavallone,” there was a grumble of consensus. “We are sinking, with the last of our furniture reaching their final bid, we have no way of keeping up with the debt.”

Romario winced, and the Stablemater frowned. Croix didn’t utter a sound, and watched through the screen with a solemn expression. 

“At the rate we are going, our Cavallone will succumb to debt and be bankrupt within five years.” Five years. Dino would barely be twenty-three. “We need a way to stop this, our Family, from falling apart.” 

Dino glanced at each face on his screen, “We need to race again.”

The Head of Housekeeping went pale. Croix shifted back in his chair, and the Stablemaster’s expression became utterly stormy. 

Romario looked at Dino through the camera and nodded, as if to say, “go on.”

Dino pushed on, referring to his notes, and those little dicks, whenever he felt his resolve waver. He recalled the great success Cavallone horses flaunted during their golden age, referenced the sheer profits the Family had turned from racing, and how the Cavallone could enjoy the same today. Dino highlighted articles, winning and race purses, and the prestige that came with it. He pointed out budgeting, and plans, and week's worth of fervent research and study. 

Dino pushed that all of this was within grasp. Outside of the thin borders of Italy. Outside of the influence of the Mafia. That the Cavallone’s retribution was there for the taking if they just reached for it.

Faces were grim. 

The Vaultkeeper had turned her head away.

The Head of Housekeeping smiled like he was in pain. He probably was. He had been young, but he had been there during the reign of the Eighth. He had been there to watch him break.

“You want us to race?” The Stablemaster asked, gravel in his tone. “You want us to gamble away the last of the money keeping us afloat?”

Dino took a breath, “That money is time we bought ourselves by selling our history. Do you know what the other Families call us? A Family selling off their pride.”

“Pride will not pay out our debts-”

“In a starving house, pride is all we have left,” Dino rebutted, “Pride, and spite, and a vindictive Will to live. Is this not all we have left to heat our halls and till our fields, and feed our horses — who sit stagnant in their stables, because of men who were too weak to beat us!”

Dino sat straight, his shoulders squared and seethed.

“Since I was born, I have only heard smuggled whispers of the glory of the Cavallone horses. Our trophies sit in dusty, moulding boxes! Instead of taking us on fairly with dignity, they hide behind one another and slash at our ankles! Our right to race was just the tipping point, our trade with merchants and businesses have been undercut by the same hands! How long do we intend to cower at the echoes of the Eighth’s tantrums, and the descendants of tiny men!?”  

The Stablemaster, everyone, had sat up at Dino’s tone, the furrow of his brow, the square of his shoulders. The Vault Keeper turned to Dino slowly.

Dino unclenched his jaw and breathed, long and slow, out through his nose. 

“I know I’ve only been Don for not even a full year, and I know I am asking for more trust than I may deserve. But I believe that our horses are our key to survival. I am willing to bet on it.”

The Stablemaster narrowed his eyes, “What are you betting?”

Dino smiled.

“What is the Cavallone if not my life and head?” 

Croix sat up sharply, “Dino!”

“If the Cavallone fail to pay off their debts, our ‘benefactors’ will expect to be paid in blood,” Dino frowned, “At least this way, you all can renounce the Cavallone name.”

“Like absolute hell would we let you take the fall!” Croix boomed, peeking his laptop’s microphone and leaving a static buzz. 

Romario stood from his chair, “I cannot agree to those terms! Even if the Cavallone falls, I will not leave you, Boss.”

“Unless you have some secret Cavallone blood in your veins, you won’t be much of a prize,” Dino huffed, “But thank you.”

“Okay, I’m in,” the Stablemaster said, and Romario’s head snapped around.

“You can’t be serious! On those terms!?” 

“No, dumbass, those terms are utter horseshit, but he’s proved his conviction. So I’ll bite,” the Stablemaster, the man who called all the final shots on the horses of the Cavallone and the only one who could undermine the Don, turned to look at Dino. “The Cavallone will go down kicking.”

The Vault Keeper turned her hooded head to Dino and said in a voice all raspy and old as ash, “Little Dino, we will never leave you to pay for the mistakes we did not help avoid. Do not say as much again.”

It was cold and scolding, like the distant aunt the Cavallone Vault Keeper was. The Keeper of the Cavallone’s treasures and secrets. She would have never left her station. 

“Right,” Dino smiled, feeling warm to the core. “I meant no insult. But my argument still stands.”

The Vault Keeper looked to the Stablemaster, Head of Housekeeping and Romario. Croix sat silent in his chair. 

“I’ve already said my stance,” the Stablemaster shrugged, “I’m in. The boy Boss knows what he wants, and he wants to race. So long as the horses are safe, I’m happy to let them out of their stables.”

Romario huffed as he dropped back into his chair, fixing his suit jacket, “I support the Boss’ plan to race.”

“It’s a risk,” the Head of Housekeeping said softly, “Keeping up the salaries of the house’s staff will be difficult.”

“Of course, we’ll cut back where we can to keep them paid,” Dino assured, and the man nodded. Dino had always made sure their staff was paid, it was one of the highest priorities. “I’m sure there are some functions on the estate that can be put on hold. Please, make a list of what you think can be done without, and we’ll work through cutting it.”

“...Very well,” he said, slightly ashen.

Dino gazed upon the man who had taught him to button his shirts, and cleaned up after him every time clumsy little Dino made a mess.

“When you get the chance, please, get those trophies out from the attic. They shouldn’t be hidden, let them be on display again, as they should be.”

The Head of Housekeeping blinked at Dino, before he smiled, his grey, wrinkled face softening.

“As you wish, Boss.”

The Vault Keeper sat still again, utterly unmoving. Then she sighed, nearly slumped over as she bowed under the weight of her decision.

“Little Dino, I hope you know what you’re getting us into. I never wanted you to become a gambler.”

“Just this once, I promise,” Dino smiled, “And a few more times after we win.”

‘After’. When, not if.

The Vault Keeper scoffed at Dino. 

Then everyone turned their attention to the last man yet to speak: Croix, the Ninth Rain Guardian and representative of all the Cavallone Guardians. He sat there, seemingly staring through the screen and far away. 

Dino clenched his fists on his knees out of frame of the camera. He hated seeing his zio like this. Guardians could only outlive their Harmony with so much grace.

“Uncle Croix?” Dino urged gently. 

Croix’s clouded eyes lit up with awareness as he came back to himself. He glanced around the screen, taking in those faces that were looking at him expectantly. Dino smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring.

“Whatever you want to do, Dino, your uncles will support you,” Croix said, “I’ve never seen a Cavallone horse race, either. We are long overdue — just, don’t make betting your life a habit.”

Dino grinned sheepishly, and his heart felt bright. 

“That said,” the Stablemaster interjected, and something in his tone made Dino’s stomach tighten. “If we’re going to do this, we do it properly, Boss.”

Dino nodded, “Of course, I don’t plan to do this half-cocked. As you allow, I’d like to use our best-performing horses.”

The best of the Cavallone’s prized herd. Their fastest, their most enduring. 

The Stablemaster crossed his arms, lined with hair and thin scars. 

“Then you’ll be asking for Glory.”

Dino’s smile went thin. He nodded.

“Yes, Glory is at the top of the list. She is our best horse.”

Romario glanced at Dino.

Croix lowered his eyes to his lap, his face carefully blank. Every breath he took was slow and measured.

“Understand me, Dino Cavallone, if you allow anything to happen, or treat her anyway less than she deserves, I will withdraw my support immediately,” the Stablemaster promised, his voice laced with warning.

Dino swallowed thickly. If the Stablemaster pulled out, everything Dino had worked for would come undone within hours. As soon as the Stablemaster called for it, every Cavallone horse would come home.

All for Glory.

For a moment, Dino remembered the thundering of hooves, the frantic screams, a sick bed, the stinging scent of antiseptic. 

An empty bed, the sheets clean and pressed flat. The room utterly still.

Dino let out a long breath, and pushed aside those thoughts and the burn in the back of his throat. 

“Of course, Stablemaster,” Dino said solemnly, purposefully. “I assure you, Glory will be safe and treated with the best care we can afford our horses moving forward.”

The Stablemaster stared at Dino, scrutinising him down to the bone. Then he nodded, one stiff, sure nod.

“On your head, Boss,” he said.

“On my head,” Dino agreed softly.

No one in the room spoke, the silence stretching and strangeling everyone on the call. Dino shook his head and sat up to address the Head of Housekeeping.

“Please organise that list on the estate budget cuts, and send it to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Boss,” the elderly man said.

“Vault Keeper, please keep an eye on our finances throughout. Alert us immediately if you notice something awry. We can’t allow for mistakes.”

“Very well,” she responded.

“Stablemaster, please compile a list of our best horses, and everything you believe they will need during and after transport.”

“It’ll be extensive, they're picky bastards.”

“I’m sure we can handle it,” Dino assured, “Romario, you will be my proxy, as always. Please help where you can and keep things running smoothly. We cannot let the other Families get wind of this.”

“Of course, Boss,” Romario nodded, and Dino nearly wheezed in relief. 

Where would he be without Romario? 

Then Dino looked to Croix, who sat watching the flurry with a look of… Nostalgia. Pride. Pain.

“Uncle Croix,” Dino said, and the man sat to attention like all those times the Ninth had called upon him. “Please watch out for yourself and my other uncles. I want you all in good health when we hold a Cavallone-style celebration.”

Croix blinked. Then he let out a booming laugh that Dino had heard throughout his childhood.

“Right! Right! Gotta get these beer bellies fitting back in their suits! Give us some time, won’t you, Dino? Don’t go winning too fast?”

“Bah, you’ll need to cut more than the beer to get back into your suits! Dino, you should budget their cheese, too!” The Stablemaster heckled, and Croix gasped hard enough to choke. 

“My cheese is lite!”

“Light in colour maybe! I’ve seen you scarf that down!”

Dino laughed as Croix vehemently defended his ‘sampling’ of the local delicacies. 

“It puts money back into the local economy!”

“But Croix,” the Head of Housekeeping uttered, a concerned and amused pinch to his brow that spoke of the years he had spent herding Croix and his fellow Set when they were just young men. “Didn’t you develop an intolerance to lactose recently? The doctor said as much.”

Croix thinned his lips and refused to respond. 

The Meeting wound to a close, and everyone had their orders. 

The Cavallone horses would race again, under the crest of their Tenth Generation.

Dino closed his laptop with a weary and utterly stressed sigh. He slumped back into his couch and scratched his nails through his hair. 

He had done it. The first Family Meeting as Don, and he had actually done it! He had convinced the Family to go along with this stupid, ride-or-die plan! Jesus Christ, Dino needed a drink. He was craving Pepsi, the kind he had drunk with Vic.

A steady thump, thump, thump sounded through the walls, the bass beat made the floors vibrate. Dino glanced to his windows — one of his neighbours had a party going. 

The clock on Dino’s phone glared that it was nearly 10PM. Dino yawned and stood from his divot in the couch, scanning the floor for where Enzo had crawled off to. Then he heard it.

A soft ‘clink, chunk’ and repeat. 

Dino listened to the jangle and crunch, and let out a soft groan of, “Enzo, why me? I wanna go to sleep so badly!”

Enzo peered from around the bedroom doorway with a soft wheeze. Dino picked his phone from the table and typed up a text to Romario, taking a drink from his cup as he did. Someone was trying to break into Dino’s dormhouse.

Dino put aside his glass and scooped Enzo up off the floor as he made his way back to his bedroom, turning off the lights as he did. He closed his bedroom door and felt the faintest clunk as the latch fell into place and a jimmy-rigged security system swung into activity. 

Dino had been tutored by Reborn, after all. He had to learn something from the PTSD.

Dino followed his bedtime routine. He changed into some light pyjamas, washed his slightly sweaty face, brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, Enzo cuddled up against his chest. Right over the heart.

Dino closed his eyes, let out a long breath and listened. The crunch of dried gum leaves out near the back porch. The metallic groan as someone mounted the porch railing. The soft, muffled crack of glass. 

Dino continued to breathe, slow and unhurried. He needed his would-be hitman deeper in his house. Dino clutched the handle of his whip, coiled under the blankets with him.

Footsteps over the tile, and disappeared on the rug. Breath outside the bedroom door.

All Dino’s interior doors opened inwards. Dino had to wait.

The door unlatched. The person peered in through a crack. The tip of Dino’s whip caught them in the eye. 

Dino untangled himself from his sheets, watching the man stumble back, clutching his face. Dino almost sympathised with the guy, he had been whipped in the eye more times than he — or Romario — could count.

The would-be assailant stumbled blindly, before giving a sharp gasp as he felt a tug at his clothes. Dino had learnt much from Reborn, and from personal experience, nothing threw someone off like having the threat of indecent exposure during an otherwise serious situation. 

The man fumbled with his shredding pants, hooks and wires ripping and peeling at his suit, eyes red and watering.

Dino stood — and promptly planted his face into the hard weave of the floor rug. Dino groaned. He should have known this was going too well. He heaved himself to his feet, cradling his carpet-burnt nose. 

The man pulled himself free from the last of the hooks, cameo-print briefs on display and belt clinging to the last scraps of a waistband. 

Dino reeled his whip back and lashed it across the man’s bared thigh. It didn’t wrap around like Dino had hoped, but it made the man buckle to the floor with a muted gasp again. 

He was being quiet. Being careful not to alert Dino’s neighbours. But the beat and thump of music from a few doors down told Dino that the majority of his neighbours were either too busy partying away the last hours of a Friday night, or trying to drown it out, to notice.

Better for him, honestly. The crack of a whip wasn’t exactly covert.

The man hissed between his teeth and pulled his weapon of choice from his pocket. Wire glinted and strained in his leather-gloved hands. He lunged, wire tight and Rino pulled his whip across his face. 

He could hear the wire pluck at the leather of his whip, but it never bit through. Something birthed from Leon would never buckle that easily. 

Dino gritted his teeth and kicked at the man’s knees. He went down with a sickening crack and his knees bowing like a bird’s. 

The hitman threw something at Dino from the floor, and Dino swallowed a cry as some kind of powder, hot and irritating, coated his face. Dino pressed his lips and eyes shut, and didn’t dare to breathe, wiping his face with his shirt. Dino fumbled and kicked as he felt hands and wire reach for his ankles.

His face burnt, and Dino tasted something acrid and bitter on the tip of his tongue. Every one of his senses begged Dino to get it off, wash it off, do something.

Dino scrubbed at his lips and around his nose, desperate to breathe again. He charged forward, palming at the walls and feeling the way to the bathroom. Something pulled at Dino’s ankles, the sound of wire pulled taut and a small, sharp pain was his only warning before Dino went toppling into the living room. 

His shoulder crashed into the coffee table and the cup Dino had left to ‘future him’ tipped over and splashed directly into his face. Dino sputtered and spat, before finally taking a sweet, lungful of air. He could still taste the remnants of that powder, but he could breathe. Dino palmed at the tabletop and wiped his face with the pooled water. 

He peered an eye open, and immediately felt the tear-inducing burn. He gritted his teeth and bore it as the blurry figure of his hitman crawled its way towards Dino. 

Dino scrambled to his feet and grabbed his whip. 

The man lunged, sprung from his one good leg. He caught Dino around the middle and the two crashed into the wall console, the dying pot plant dropped and shattered on the carpet. 

Dino struggled as the man tried to press his wire against Dino’s throat. Dino kicked his knee again and felt the bone move under his toes. The man reeled back, mouth agape in a silent scream.

Dino wrapped his whip around the man’s throat and yanked tight.

[silly-fox-in-sox]

The Kentucky Oaks card ended up being a pretty delightful day of racing – even with the rain trying to spoil everything.

My favorite moments:

Idiomatic's triumphant return to the winner's circle. I get why Cody's Wish got Horse of the Year last year, but I really thought Idiomatic deserved it. Maybe this year she gets the big trophy

T O Saint Denis trying to and nearly succeeding at running off with the Alysheba. He couldn't hold off First Mission in the end, but man did he put on a good show in defeat and definitely makes you take another look at his stablemate T O Password in the Derby.

Ova Charged's powerhouse performance in the Unbridled Sydney. I hope she continues on through to the Breeders Cup Turf Sprint. She's such a cool horse

Thorpedo Anna's rockstar win in the Kentucky Oaks. It looked for all the world like she'd get tired and be caught by a late charging Just FYI, but Thorpedo Anna just had more and more to give. I won't be surprised if she shows up in the Preakness and that would be so, so fun.

[theacedragon0w0]

Spa Squad Day

CHAPTER 3: VLK, SYDNEY AND HAZEL

Vlk and Orion belongs to @imapuppy5000

Sydney belongs to @tamberwoof

Hazel and Willow belongs to @puffymucher

Iris belongs to @helluvadyke

Hazel managed to catch up with Vlk and Sydney as they were walking towards the bathroom houses, "Hey gals! What are yalls going to try out?"

Vlk, ignoring her question looked around Hazel, "Hey where's Sage? I thought they were with you?"

"Ah, Bluebell wanted to go solo for a bit, but we'll meet up when she's done, so what's the plan ladies?"

Sydney showed Hazel the brochure, pointing at a service called Artic Cooldown, "We wanted to check out this, apparently it's a large ice bath that helps soothe sore muscles. We figured since we tend to overheat most of the time, we can try to 'keep cool'."

"That sounds like fun, count me in!"

The trio entered the bathroom, and the ice bath looked equal to a hot tub in terms of size. Before entering the trio were given robes for when they undressed for the bath. Hot refreshments were offered to the trio as they made their way to the bath, all making a collective sigh as they all dipped into the cold water.

Sydney, with cucumbers covering her eyes, waved her hand at Hazel, "When we are done we gotta plan on giving Sage something as thanks for this, I also gotta thank Clara and Odette for taking care of Pip for the day as well"

Vlk nodded, "I agree, our Sage really pulled through for this one."

Hazel looked up, "Hmmmm, well most of us are banned from the kitchen so a homemade dinner is outta the question, and we did talk about Sage doing that Motorcycle derby,"

Vlk shot up, "wait, isn't that the same derby that nearly half the competition gets ripped in half by sadistic psychopaths?!"

Hazel patted Vlk's shoulder, "You underestimate Sage, I have seen them take hits and deliver them tenfold; even without that fancy robo arm they can still put up a good fight."

Vlk sighed, "Yeah, you're right."

Sydney tossed a slice at both of them, "Hey, talk about your house-spouse later, they would like it if her girls actually relaxed for once."

Hazel tossed a few more cucumbers at Sydney, "I can talk about who I want to talk about!"

It then devolved into the trio tossing cucumbers and other food items at each other, which led them being kicked out of the bath house. Fortunately they met up with the other four (Iris clinging to one of Willow's arms, and Orion and Vlk glaring at each other.) Everyone then decided to check out the food court for a meal.

[coolsomejet]

Is Mitchell interested in space?

This is literally just me over analyzing a show aimed at children but that’s what this entire blog is for

With the Space Camp movie coming out soon, and Mitchell having a very likely chance to appear in the movie, I wonder how they will incorporate him into the narrative. The synopsis of the movie hasn’t been released yet, but we can assume that it’s about Jet, Sean, Sydney, and Mindy going to space camp. How would Mitchell fit into the plot? Will he be at space camp too? And does Mitchell have an interest in space in the first place?

Short answer: A little

Long answer: Mitchell is mainly fixated on being a detective. And in “Our Sun is a Star,” he says that the sun is not a star. I know he’s a little kid, but come on. Mindy already knew the sun is a star (although she forgot it in the episode and had to relearn it) and she’s five years old. Mindy’s parents are scientists (as confirmed by when her mom was called Dr. Melendez in “Jet’s First Halloween”), but so is Mitchell’s dad, Mr. Peterson, though we don’t really see him doing science work within the show.

These are some good arguments for Mitchell not being into space, but there’s also some evidence that he DOES like space. He entered the baking context in “Solar System Bake Off” and made an exact cake replica of Saturn V, noting that it was the rocket that got us to the moon in 1969. In “Eye in the Sky,” Sean tells Mitchell that he could be a Space Scout one day. Mitchell gets excited over this and salutes, then gets embarrassed and stops.

So this does confirm that Mitchell does like space a little, and seemed excited at the prospect of being a Space Scout, but judging by his embarrassed reaction, he might be ashamed about it. Mitchell has a reputation that he likes to uphold. He’s the kid-kart derby winner. He’s the detective kid. And nothing else.

If Mitchell is in the movie at all, and they make him spy on Jet and the others again, I’m gonna be upset. I want to see it expand on his space interest.

[scotianostra]

William Arnott  founder of the Arnott’s Biscuits company was born on December 6th 1827 in Pathhead.

One for our Antipodean branch of the Scottish diaspora, or at least the Australian branch.

As happens quite often there are differing details with William Arnott, namely his place of birth, one version gives it as Pathhead, Midlothian, which I know fairly well, another tells me it was Pathhead near Kirkcaldy in Fife, which had me googling away like mad as, not being a Fifer I had was not aware of the latter, all I could find was Pathhead Sands though, but I am not discounting him being born there.

There’s nothing about his formative years, his parents David and Isabella migrated with his younger siblings in the 1840s, possibly as part of an assisted migration scheme. we pick up the story of William Arnott  in October 1847 he and his brother David set out for Sydney, Australia on board the assisted-immigrants' ship Sir Edward Parry; they reached Sydney some 135 days later, on 17th February 1848.

Having apprenticed as baker quickly got a job with his brother at a Maitland bakery. William left in 1851, to work the goldfields.

In 1853 he returned to Maitland to start his own bakery after failing as a gold miner. He was successful as a baker until affected by a succession of floods in 1856, 1857 and 1861. Having gotten into debt from the flood damage, he moved to Newcastle in 1865. In the next few years, he became known for his biscuits.  By the time he retired 1899, he employed over 800 people in his Newcastle and Sydney factories. His company soon became a well-known, home-grown Australian brand.

The reputation of his biscuits reached further afield and from 1882 he began sending boatloads to Sydney. Arnott paid off all the debts incurred in the 1860s and in 1883, his creditors held a luncheon in his honour — and integrity — presenting him with a gold medal.

In 1888 Arnott created a biscuit using arrowroot flour, something he had learned was a staple for sailors. The Milk Arrowroot biscuit became a favourite with the public and was marketed as a way of introducing babies to solid foods.

After a trip to Scotland in 1870, Arnott was gifted a Macaw by the ship’s captain. The bird developed a taste for Arnott’s biscuits, and became a cherished pe the pet still features as the company logot. Arnott made a visit to Scotland in 1893 and when he returned in 1894 he bought a factory at Forest Lodge in Sydney, and made his sons partners in the business.

As the demand for his products grew, Arnott planned to move the company headquarters to Homebush. When he retired in 1899 Arnotts employed over 800 people in his Newcastle and Sydney factories.William Arnott died aged 73 in 1901 before the plans could be realised. However, his 7 sons took over where their father left off.

In 1906 work began on what would become the largest biscuit factory in the southern hemisphere at Homebush, which, at the time, lived up to its name being surrounded by bush. Detractors thought it was too far out of Sydney to be practical, but in 1908 Arnott’s dream factory opened and the town of Homebush grew up around it.

Arnotts are most famous for their biscuit, the Tim Tam  the story behind it is in 1958, Ian Norris, head of Food Technology at Arnott’s went on a worldwide fact finding trip, looking for new product ideas for the company.

While in the UK he came across the ‘Penguin’, a brand I am sure all us at home know.  Norris said in an interview that 

‘I thought it was not a bad idea for a biscuit: so, we’ll make a better one. There is nothing wrong with coming up with a similar product.’

Norris brought the idea of the Penguin back to Australia, and set to work, experimenting with different biscuit textures, and cream flavours. But getting the mix right proved elusive. The new Australian version would be five years in development. Named after an American racehorse that one of the Arnott brothers sw winning the Kentucky Derby, they launched the Tim Tam and it was an immediate hit. It soon established itself as Arnott’s best-selling product, and has remained so through the subsequent decades.

The company now sells about 30 million packets of Tim Tams a year.

In 1997 the company became a subsidiary of the Campbell Soup Company, but Arnott’s still manufactures its biscuits in Australia.