#Stella Meatballs

[onedigital]

Stella Artois y Ludlow presentan Barlow, el nuevo bar en la CDMX

 Barlow, ubicado en Mitikah, nace de una colaboración estratégica entre Stella Artois y Ludlow Bar. El bar ofrece una experiencia que enaltece los sabores de Stella Artois, a través de la creación de un menú que logra el maridaje ideal para disfrutar de la cerveza del portafolio de Grupo Modelo.  Continue reading Stella Artois y Ludlow presentan Barlow, el nuevo bar en la CDMX

[afreakingdork]

@stellasstarss LKJAHFSAHFLJSAFHASFHSF THIS SO SO CUTE I'M GOING TO SCREAM, STOP YOU ARE NOT THAT SMALL, I AM THE SMALL ONE! I'M 5'3"! BUT ALSO IF YOU WERE THAT SMALL I WOULD PUT YOU IN THE POCKET OF MY OVERALLS AND CARRY YOU AROUND WHEREVER YOU NEED TO GO. I'D BE YOUR DORKMOBILE AJLKFASHFSDF ATHIS IS SO CUTE KJAFHDSF MY WHOLE DAY THIS IS MY WHOLE DAYLKFADSF

TO MY GORGEOUS AMAZING COMMISSIONERS!!!

I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANK YOU ALL SO INCREDIBLY MUCH!!! @afreakingdork @hijinxensues @kirikatalksalot

I have so much love and appreciation for you three!! You guys were my first proper commissions ever!!!! I had so much fun drawing up the comms to the best of my ability, and im so so SO thankful that you each deemed my art worthy enough to be paid, or tbh literally just ASKED for in the first place. The fact you guys even like my art is beyond me?!? 🙇‍♀️😭🫶🏻 (Also, im doing the perfectionist artist thing where i keep looking back at them going... they deserve better... what if i just re drew it... [theres the possibility i might tbh🧍‍♀️])

I genuinely dont know how to explain how insanely thankful i am for you all!! 🫠🫶🏻

I remember with each commission i would freak for a bit, kicking my feet, squealing, jumping around, etc... before calling/messaging my parents who were just as stoked that I had managed to succeed enough to finally have people who actually liked my art enough to request a commission!

As shown in my squeal-y excited texts lmao

@afreakingdork my mum knows vaguely about you just bcs i constantly honk abt "this fanfic i really like!!! thats so well written!!! and is the size of multiple novels!!! The author is so lovely!!! RAH RAH RAH!!!" (I frl dont shut up when a new chap comes out, even if im vague abt what its about... im not THAT comfortable with my family HAHAH)

But seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much. You each made my year, tbh my life, i genuinely wont ever forget how lovely you all have been and the support you have given me :,) <3

Sorry if this is annoying/embarrassing to have me freak out and fangirl over you each so much but IM JUST SUPER HAPPY 🙇‍♀️🫶🏻😭

So much love to you all, Stella. <3 xx

[cetaitlaverite]

Anything to Anywhere

Masters of the Air - Bucky Egan x OC

masterlist is hereeee <3

14. The Same Team

Stella woke the next morning in the exact position she’d fallen asleep in, still in her clothes from the night before. Her makeup sat heavy on her face after she’d slept in it. She grimaced as she ran her tongue across her top teeth; she could feel that she hadn’t brushed them.

John was nowhere to be found but he’d left traces of his presence behind. He’d taken her boots off for her, for one, and left them neatly beside her bed. And he’d tucked her blanket over her, snug and up to her chin the way she liked to sleep.

Pushing herself up to sitting, Stella yawned and rubbed her eyes, sitting Ralph the teddy bear down beside her. She stretched out her arms and her neck, then glanced around her hut at the other girls, all still sound asleep in spite of the birds chirping just beyond their thin walls, the light filtering in around the curtains.

Remembering what happened last night was almost painful but Stella couldn’t seem to help it. She recalled the way she’d cried in front of John, the way she’d all but collapsed in front of him. The sting in her hands reminded her of how she’d sat alone in one of the B-17s and unravelled. Her nails were broken with dried blood cracking on the beds, her palms still red and sore after she’d repeatedly hit the yoke.

Sighing, Stella pulled herself out of bed and dragged herself to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, removed her makeup, took a shower, and then borrowed one of the other girls’ nail kits to clean up her broken fingernails.

At breakfast, the officers’ mess hall felt empty after the loss of eighty men the day before. Buck wasn’t there and he wasn’t going to be. DeMarco’s dog, Meatball, was sitting with Freddie Leroy, staring at the door and waiting for his owner to return, unknowing of how he never would.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Stella headed over to her usual table and slumped into the seat, then accepted her breakfast and gulped it down like she thought someone was about to steal it.

She didn’t want to be in here for any longer than she had to be.

This entire place was becoming crowded with ghosts.

Mercifully, she had a chit to fly first thing in the morning. After the heavy losses of the day before there was a shortage of B-17s and, apparently, an urgent need for more. All of the ATA pilots had at least one B-17 each to ferry in from various nearby airfields.

So the Americans were being sent out again.

Stella knew, then, why John had come back early.

She hadn’t thought much about it last night, when she’d been so deep inside her own head and her own despair she’d only been able to register how glad she was to see him. But Buck had told her he was due back on Tuesday and it certainly wasn’t yet Tuesday.

He was here to fly the next mission. To avenge Buck, no doubt.

Stella was already stewing about it, preparing her anger, hours before she caught sight of him that day. And when she did catch sight of him, he knew immediately that she wasn’t happy.

“What now?” he asked with a resigned sigh as she approached him outside the mess hall.

Stella let the jab slide if only to ensure she didn’t get distracted from her point. “Did you come back early so you could fly the next mission?” she demanded, stomping over to him, heedless of the ears of other airmen and American Red Cross girls listening in.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Yes, Stels, I did.”

“You don’t have to fly that mission,” Stella pointed out. “Buck told me you were supposed to be coming back on Tuesday and that you’re not needed around here until then. So why are you flying the mission?”

His eyes blazed in challenge as he held her gaze. “You know why,” he said lowly.

“I was hoping I was wrong.”

“That’d be a first.”

“Why are you such an idiot, John?” Stella accused, stepping in closer to him and raising her voice like it might be able to break through whatever fog had blurred his critical thinking. “Why, after everything you saw last night, would you agree to go through with this?”

“This ain’t about you, Stels,” he answered her calmly. And yet, at his sides, his hands were twitching. When he saw her notice, he tucked them into his pockets.

“Of course it’s about me,” Stella snapped in reply. “You’re flying a mission to avenge your friend. What do I get to do to avenge you when you go down, hm? What do I get to do to avenge my four brothers?” He said nothing and she all but snarled, “Nothing, that’s what. Sweet fucking piss all. You go out on your mission and you get shot down and I stay here and cry about it and wonder why every single person I care about leaves me behind. Fuck you, John, for doing that to me. Fuck you.”

He stepped in closer to her and lowered his voice.

Stella had to crane her neck right back to keep hold of his eyes.

“I don’t have any plans of getting shot down, Stella,” he said. “So you can put away your martyr act for another day.”

“Fuck you, John Egan!” Stella cried, giving his chest a hard shove. “Fuck you! You’re leaving me behind the same way everyone else did and you don’t even care! You’re going to get yourself killed trying to bomb people who didn’t shoot down Buck!”

John caught and held her wrists when she tried to shove him again. “I’m not gonna get myself killed,” he told her, ducking his head so she could more easily see his eyes. “I’m gonna come back here after.”

“That’s what Buck said!” Stella exclaimed, fighting his hold on her wrists. “That’s what Curt said! That’s what Harry and George and Alfie and David all said and they fucking lied to me!” When she finally managed to wrench her wrists out of his grip, she rubbed angrily at her eyes and fought to clear away the tears which had gathered. Then she shoved him again. “Fuck you, Major Egan. I hope you do get shot down and I hope I never have to see you again.”

Turning on her heel, Stella began to stomp away, breathing heavily through her nose to push back her tears. A few pitiful sobs escaped her anyway.

She managed to go a few steps before John stepped directly into her path and she ran into his chest.

“Why do you always lash out, huh?” John demanded. “You’re constantly lashing out at me like you wanna fight but I know you, Stels, and I know you don’t wanna fight. So why are you always trying to?”

Stella stared at him hard, her chest heaving, her breath wheezing. A few more pitiful, whiny sobs escaped. And all of a sudden she was back in the living room of the house she’d grown up in, an eight year old little girl standing toe to toe with her father, screaming at him to leave her mother alone while her eight brothers stood by and watched her. Fat tears stumbling down her cheeks, messy plaits in her hair, her pyjamas on and her teddy bear clasped tightly in one hand while she shouted again and again and again, “Leave her alone! She didn’t do anything to you!”

It had always been her first instinct. To protect. But never herself, not at first. First it was Harry, her youngest brother, only a year older than her, when she saw another boy push him over on the playground. And then her other brothers, when they’d fight with each other or steal each other’s things. And then her mother, from her father, who would push her around like she was an extension of his own body, like he was entitled to do with her what he liked.

Stella spent her childhood kicking and screaming to protect the ones she loved, hands balled into fists and teeth gritted, a fire in the eyes people looked into and saw tenderness. She spent her life making sure the ones she loved were safe.

But at some point she’d had to realise that she wasn’t immune to danger. She needed protecting too. And the sad truth of the matter was that no one had ever screamed and kicked and fought for her. That had been a job always solely reserved for her.

“I’m not,” she said, tilting her chin up defiantly in spite of the tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Stels,” John said. There was an unbearable softness in his voice, now. And in his eyes. Like he felt sorry for her but still didn’t quite know what to make of her, what to do with her. No one had ever known what to do with her.

His pity made her furious all over again. “When no one ever wants to look after you, eventually you have to learn to look after yourself,” she said, her voice hard even while it shook.

“You’re fighting the wrong person,” John informed her simply. His eyes were probing, prying, trying to puzzle her out. “We’re on the same team.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Stella hissed. Once more, she wiped roughly at her eyes and sniffled. Why was she always crying in front of him?

“We are,” he insisted. “C’mon, why don’t we go sit down? Then we can talk about this like adults.”

“I don’t want to talk to you like an adult when you’re behaving like a child.”

“Stella,” John snapped. His stare was hard. He wasn’t messing around anymore.

“I have another chit to fly in a couple of hours,” she relented.

“You’ll be ready by then,” he replied.

Stella stared at him hard, a storm raging inside her, before she decided she was actually so sick and tired of feeling angry all the time, when really what she felt was sad. Exhaling all of her breath, she shrugged and turned away from him, so he took that as his cue to start leading her back towards the nissen huts.

Her hut was empty at this time of day. No one else was likely to return until the day’s work was done, about an hour or so after dinner. Then the bathroom would be a revolving door, girls jostling each other for the showers or for space at the mirrors so they could get ready for another night in the officers’ club.

Right now, there were only echoes of the other girls who lived here. Pyjamas left haphazardly on beds and slips spilling out of footlockers and lipsticks left uncapped on bedside tables, shining in the bright light from the windows.

Stella’s bed was always neat, her pyjamas always folded and Ralph the teddy bear always sitting politely on top of them, smiling at the empty room laid out before him as he leaned back against her pillow. There were no clothes spilling out of her footlocker, no empty glasses, stolen from the mess hall, left on the floor beside her bed.

“How do you know where I live?” Stella asked as John took a seat on her bed. She’d been in no fit state to question it last night.

John didn’t look at her as he shrugged. His eyes were on Ralph, a small smile on his lips, and he reached out and gave one of his paws a brief squeeze before finally gracing Stella with his attention. “Asked Alice,” he said simply, by way of reply. “Are you gonna sit down?”

Stella took a moment to stare at him, taking in the unfamiliarity of the scene he created by sitting on her bed.

Then she sighed and crossed over to him, taking a seat opposite him on the edge of Alice’s bed.

They sat in silence for a while, twiddling their thumbs, both of them waiting for the other to speak first. And then, into the quiet, John suddenly declared, “I think Ralph needs a sweater.”

In spite of herself, Stella laughed. “I don’t knit,” she said. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Poor Ralph. He’ll have to be cold.”

John grinned, shaking his head as he looked down into his lap and then forced himself to meet her eyes. “You still mad at me?”

“Always.”

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I about figured.”

“I don’t want you to go out on that mission,” Stella said simply. “There are enough pilots here to fly it without you.”

“If you were me you’d go,” John pointed out.

“That’s different,” Stella replied sharply. “I don’t get to fly combat. Ever. If I got the opportunity I’d jump at it because I’d have to, because it probably wouldn’t ever come again. But you’re a major and I know you got yourself demoted but that doesn’t mean they need you to fly every single mission. They need you equally as much down here.”

John shook his head and looked away. Something in his eyes had gone cold.

Stella knew, because she knew him well by now, that he was thinking about Buck. She knew that around her he tried to keep his anger and his sadness at bay, out of respect for the people she’d lost, she supposed. But she also knew it was hard for him; it wasn’t in his nature to suppress his feelings. And with every new argument she made he drew closer and closer to not being able to tamp down his anger anymore - no, his rage. Losing Buck, his best friend in the world, didn’t just anger him, it enraged him. His fury was white hot, simmering, a hair’s breadth away from exploding.

“Going out on that mission won’t avenge him, John,” Stella said carefully, steadily.

He didn’t say anything.

She watched his jaw muscles working as he ground his teeth.

“I’d go with you if I thought it would.”

“But what the fuck else am I supposed to do, Stels, huh?” John demanded. All of a sudden he was staring deep into her eyes once more. The intensity of his gaze was startling, stifling, after she’d been without it for a little while.

Stella shook her head dumbly, swallowing hard. “I don’t know.” She clearly wasn’t the expert on how to deal with losing loved ones.

“Exactly,” John snapped, then he looked away from her again.

Stella let the silence fall, the blade of an executioner. She listened to the flap of phantom wings as invisible birds flew away at the impact. “You’re going to do the exact same thing to me that he’s done to you by going down, you know,” she said.

John didn’t say anything. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Just one more person to add to the tally of people who left me behind,” she added.

“I’m not gonna go down,” he mumbled in reply.

“You don’t know that.”

“I haven’t gone down yet.”

“That proves nothing.”

“I’m not gonna go down,” he repeated.

“Good,” Stella said. “Don’t. I really need you not to.”

His eyes sought hers immediately in the wake of that confession. He searched her gaze for something he evidently didn’t find, because he shifted closer to her until his legs were bracketing hers, the insides of his knees pressing against the outsides of hers.

“Stels,” he said softly, “I’m gonna come back.” His eyes were deep, endless pools of blue, full of so many emotions that trying to identify one of them was like trying to catch an ocean wave in her bare hands. Stella grasped and grasped and grasped, desperate to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but the instant she thought she was close to finding out his eyes would change again, become clouded by some other emotion, and she was clueless once more.

“Good,” she breathed. Had he always been this handsome? She’d never really noticed. Well, she’d kind of noticed, because he was tall and muscular and so much bigger than her, impossible to ignore, and he had a smile which made her insides seize up like a kettle waiting to scream as it boiled, so wide and uninhibited and full of joy. She always felt lucky when he smiled at her. But she’d always thought it was just the smile and the novelty of his height - it wasn’t often she was shorter than a male pilot, most of them tending to dwindle somewhere around five foot eight. But now, with the light from the window beside her bed spilling over him, lighting up the ends of his hair in a warm, chestnut brown when she’d always thought his hair was black, making his eyes so much brighter and his face so much softer, she couldn’t be sure whether she was just now noticing his handsomeness or whether she’d been deliberately ignoring it all along.

There was no way to ignore it now. Just the two of them in the room she slept in, him sitting on her bed with her childhood teddy bear beside him, his eyes bright and kind, his smile soft and gentle. Had he really always looked like this?

Oblivious to her whirlwind of thoughts, John just kept on watching her. And then slowly, tentatively, he raised both hands, giving her time to move away.

Stella sat still, watching his hands move, her body stiff as she tried to predict what he was going to do.

At the first brush of his fingers to her temples she flinched. His hands were warm, careful, but unfamiliar.

He paused his movements when she startled but persisted once she settled, laying his hands gently on either side of her head.

Stella grabbed onto his wrists when he started to move them, smoothing her hair away from her face. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping to achieve - some semblance of control, maybe - but his eyes found hers, eyebrows raised in question.

Minutely, she nodded, a tiny jerk of her head.

His hands continued to move, smoothing her hair back and then finding her temples again, smoothing her hair back and then finding her temples again, and on and on and on. The rhythm of the movement, the predictability of it, was calming, comforting.

Stella’s body relaxed. Her eyes fell closed. No one had ever touched her like this. So gently. So reverently.

She couldn’t see it, but his gaze had gone soft where he was watching the movement of his hands. He took to watching her face, drinking in the peace he found there. She had such a pretty face. He loved to watch her grin or frown or roll her eyes, loved to watch her talk - sometimes he said stupid things just to watch her scoff and react, or said funny things just to watch her laugh - but there was something mesmerising about her in this moment, her eyes closed and her lips slightly ajar, her relaxation making her face entirely still.

She didn’t ever notice when he stared at her, whether from across the room or right in front of her, but now he could stare openly and know for certain she wouldn’t reprimand him for it.

She would never have told him off for developing a crush on her if she could see herself, he thought. It was a losing battle to meet her and not fall at least a little bit in love. He’d certainly lost that battle early on and had kept on losing it everyday since. He’d long since stopped trying to win, in fact - had no real desire to, anymore, either.

After a while, Stella opened her eyes, peering up at John through her eyelashes.

When their eyes found each other, his heart gave a stutter.

Stella let in a sharp, silent inhale of breath.

Inexplicably, John smiled.

Then he leaned in close, hesitated while his breath fanned against her skin, and then pressed his lips softly, delicately, to her forehead.

Stella’s eyes fell closed once more.

She whimpered.

John pulled back to look at her, his eyes probing as they searched her own. He might have been looking for assurance that she was okay, that she didn’t mind him touching her like this, that he hadn’t crossed a line, but Stella didn’t let him look for long. Before she could think about what she was doing she was clasping her hands around the back of his head and pulling him back towards her, angling her face down until his lips met her forehead once more.

She felt him smile against her skin. Felt his breath as he laughed softly into the kiss he gave her.

Stella smiled to herself. “If you go down tomorrow,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, full of the shakiness of her breath, “I’ll hate you forever.”

“I know, Stels,” John assured her, keeping his lips pressed to her forehead. He rested there for a moment, letting her feel the warmth of his breath, then sighed softly, silently, as he sat back to look at her. “I’d deserve it,” he said.

[basilone]

Sometimes, war is the province of women. An alternate take on the battle for air dominance over the skies of Europe during World War Two, as told through the stories of an American all-female bomber crew and the people around them.

This is a collection of standalone works that all interlock to form one big patchwork quilt of stories. It will see new additions every so often, especially because a lot of it is written to prompts. The collection on AO3 is my best attempt at organizing it in chronological order.

[click here for the WIP story collection!]

Want to know a little more about the OCs featured in this collection? Please click the readmore below!

Charlotte “Lottie” Rivers-Mayhew Fighter pilot turned bomber pilot Can fly anything, will try anything. Big mouth, little heart. Lives in the land of innuendo and crude jokes. Loud about her whole existence. Very smart, but downplays that like whoa. Julie “Jules” Langdon Bomber pilot Runs this gig and everyone else just needs to get with her program. Great at reading people the riot act. Comically unimpressed by everything that lands in her path. Nosewrinkles at any and all delays. Known for slipping people an extra bite to eat. Christina “Tiny” Heartfield Bomber co-pilot Needs five hours to get ready for any kind of social event. Silver spoon baby. Knows all the gossip and all the good songs. Gets a little bit stressed about flying in warzones. Loves a good ghost story. Eleanor “Nora” Graham Navigator The Mom Friend. Prone to giving hugs and peptalks. Bossy and quite rude when things don’t go her way. Cannot flirt her way out of anything. If you see her running, that’s just standard procedure. Valerie “Val” Hodges Radio operator Absolute poker-faced ballsy liar. Most innocent face in the whole crew. Smokes more than her job should allow. Will try to wiggle out of any lectures by offering the most inane excuses. There’s not a puzzle she can’t solve. Genevieve “Two” Hodgson Tail gunner Shows up late to everything except the war. Always chewing gum. Queen of half-hearted salutes and vague politeness. Keeps saying she’s too poor for this level of bullshit. Has a mean right hook. Madeleine “Push” Perrault Flight engineer Making lists calms her down. Can and will call you stupid in four different languages. Thinks planes are better than people. Voice like a foghorn with the attitude to match. Believes she can fix anything. Evelyn “One-Eye” Carter Ball turret gunner Happy-go-lucky baby of the group, rolling with life’s punches. Will talk your ear off. Could probably get away with murder. Best gunner in the crew. Can be painfully naïve. Dorothy “Dee” Llewellyn Waist gunner Born a pessimist. Genuinely thinks no man should ever sport a mustache. Has a limitless supply of stories about her family. Very protective. Would inspire a riot if anyone ever let her talk long enough without interruptions. Maxine “Max” Morrison Waist gunner Bold and brash and crackling with energy. Cracks more bad jokes than anyone alive. Has developed some rather complicated handshakes. Will interrupt any event or conversation. If you see her running, something’s probably chasing her. Stella “Frosty” Lombardi Bombardier Icy calm in any crisis. Can calculate any bomb drop. Complains about the food. Is a true girl’s girl and refuses to so much as speak to most men. Never wants to miss out on the fun.

Lucille Dorrance-Jones, goes by Lucy Jones Nurse The singlemost stubborn person on the planet. Thinks some injuries are fascinating. Harbors a healthy distrust of bureaucracy and paperwork. Can probably drink you under the table. Encourages anyone to sing. Cressida Dorrance-Jones Interrogator Sharp as a tack. Does not forgive, does not forget. Secretly more big-hearted than people would give her credit for. Really wants to fly a plane. Has an ongoing one-sided vendetta with Meatball. Darlene Mayfair Mechanic Cheerful and spirited. Very gifted storyteller. Turns shy when complimented. Ride or die for people and sticks with them longer than they might deserve. Marches to the beat of her own drum. Georgina “George” Campbell Mechanic Has a soft spot for strays. Suffers no fools. Is here to win a war, not ogle cute men. Perpetually fighting a losing battle against the grease stains on her uniform. The best co-conspirator you could ask for. Imogene “Genie” Chapman Clubmobile girl Very outgoing people-person. Better at giving advice than at taking it. Designated hair-cutter. Loves movies and dancing. Knows just about anybody by name. Jack Ellis OSS Doesn’t miss a beat. No-nonsense natural leader. Very determined to do what he believes is the right thing. Talks about the war in terms of “the game”. Warm and caring once he lets his guard down.

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

Hannibal turn to faces the alumni of the summer camp for heroes of tomorrow, Camp Synoymous: First Summer Program, Lucius Vreedle. He suggests that Pakmar would fund her small business. Like as her sponsor? Or partnership? Or hire her to works in one of his businesses, that involves fashion.

“As her boss, sponsor, or business partner?” Hannibal asked. Lucius stared at the staryummy/lummy in Hannibal’s hands, scratching his head. “For now a partnership and then he will sponsor her as she gets older.” Said Lucius. “Although, let me warn you, Pakmar is known to be a tough negotiator and a cheap son of a bitch to a boot. It is a take it or leave it situation you will be in. I am not an expert in business, so it is better off for you come prepare with a file that hold pricing, rates, and requests,”

Hannibal looks at Velvet, who is still sobbing from being bald. He does not know if Velvet read or write. Her brother, Dan knows how to read. Pakmar could used her illiterate to his advantage and exploit her like how Stella exploit Emo Junior to be a mascot of her recent line of clothings and other products, such as books.

“I see. Thanks you, for the advices, Miss Sceles Vreedle and Mr. Lucius Vreedle.” Said Hannibal. He takes out his wallet to pulls out ten Taydens to give to Lucius. “It is not much, but I promise to pays the rest for the informations you two gave me, once I settle down the situation for Velvet.”

Lucius looks surprised by this taydens in his hands. “We can’t take this, you should have it since you are ‘fostering’ a kid.” Said Lucius, trying to decline this.

“No, no, no. It is fine,” he said. Then his eyes widen and it looks like he is at a verge of panicking, as if he is running late. “Bye.”

Hannibal teleports, leaving Lucius to sigh with the taydens in his hands. “You are really something Zomboni.” Said Lucius. Sceles looks at her son and then at Zombozo’s son. In comparison to his past actions, The Mad Wolfhound, a villain mercenary/minion-for-hire and running Nuevo Circus Freaks with Frightwig and his present actions in being the Camp Counsellor of Camp Synonymous, he still seem to be acting like he is working poor due to his new spending habit of being a father. She hope he be able to opens up to getting support from others who have experiences in parenting.

~~

Hannibal is slumping down in his seat of the dining car. Both Velvet and Hannibal are in a train, heading to the next district in Undertown. Hannibal sigh, killing two birds with one stone - scouting anyone, ranging from teenagers to young adults who want to become heroes and helping Velvet on her dream all while finding, all while having her enrolls in Ultimos’ school, and looking for someone to look after her, after establishing a citizenship is done making her an official American citizen, for her at the same time is exhausting. The waiter arrives in their table, placing a plate of Gloppenbeef and a meatball sub. He looks at Velvet who is still crying. “It tastes good,” said Hannibal, persuading the staryummy/lummy to eat. Eating delicious foods comforts him, so why not have her eat something that she can enjoy. Hot dogs are his and her cousin, Elizabeth’s comfort food. Maybe a Gloppenbeef can be her comfort food. Hannibal picks up the meatball sub, ready to eat it, but the taste of a delicious sandwich got interrupted by a superheroine, who just happens to be in the same dining car as them.

“Zomboni!”. Hannibal stop himself from taking a bite out of the meatball sub. Hannibal could see people are watching them, confused. “What are you doing with this child?”

Hannibal did not look at the person who called out his name and interrogated him. “Relax Ms. Orange,” said Hannibal, trying to ease the tension. “I am babysitting this ‘disowned’ kid.” He explained bluntly. “DISOWNED?!” Mitzi exclaimed, shock by Hannibal’s answer, causing more people notice them. She looks at the Lummy wearing a bucket hat. Velvet stop crying. “Because I’m bald…” Velvet explained Hannibal’s explanation, then let out an ugly cry. Hannibal let out a tired sigh. He cradled Velvet like a baby, and goes far to feed her his meatball sub. “Keeping the stars safe is such a hard task.” He said with another sigh. Hannibal looks at Velvet with the expression of a tired parent “Stars?” Mitzi asked, even more confused.

Hannibal decide to explained the situation to her, instead of dodging the questions in her interrogation. The sounds of the wheels squeaking on the tracks and the occasional bumps that shift the car back and forth hopefully obscures the conversation. Mitzi’s pupils shrunk and feel sympathetic towards this alien. He continues to vent to the Rebel Rainbow after coming to his stop. Those who are eavesdropping, the passengers are proceeding to spread this information to others, creating gossips/rumors for Undertown about the staryummies, Lumenian co-monarchs, and the Solarian monarch that will one day reach Plumbers’ ears. Now they are sitting down on bench in the train station, with Mitzi holding a sleeping Velvet, passed out from crying.

“I cannot believe that the Plumber, tasked in looking after princesses from the outer space of sort-of-another dimension would let this happened.” Said Mitzi. “They are exiled from draining stars there and now dangerous to the stars in the Milky Way System.”

"Exactly! All because this deadbeat is a close associate to their parents from his parents," said Hannibal. "This princess, Dorana Junior was being unreasonable. Her action caused Townsfolks to suffer. Businesses pummeled as Staryummies stolen sweets and sodas as their alternative to starlight, and people becoming were-staryummies just by being bitten, even goes far to invite their extended family and friends to make the situation worst. I hope Alice notice this, but she never did. Dora and Astra thought they are well behaved when at home, but when they in kindergarten and daycare, that when trouble started that it lead to round up of the staryummies being send to the sanctuary in Paris, where they are leech off to the staffs and Keith. While Travis is working on the cure for staryummythropy. Speaking of Dorana Junior, one time she attacked me when she eavesdropped on me having a talk with Mrs. Solaria, whose child will be joining Camp Synonymous next summer. Like this six years old literally wanted me disintegrated. All because I was giving her a stern talking to Stella about her parenting and how her favouritism is affecting her kid."

Hannibal’s nostril flares up and he is now gouging down at the Gloppenbeef, now crushed by his hands, causing purple sauce to spill on his pants.

Mitzi, listening to him venting that this is definiety good informations. Poor Keith, the last time she saw him was when he helped her and Leona capture and contain Polly Roses from devouring Bellwood. He must be dealing with them back at the sanctuary he has run in Paris, France. And if Hannibal, now tired from the bullshits he went through, says is true that the staryummies/lummies are leeching off there.

“I’m so sorry that you and your colleagues have been through. I wish me and The Rebel Rainbow could help. Screw her parents for neglecting her to the point of child endangerment. They don’t deserve to be her parents, and any of her 100+ siblings! I can’t believe Niko would pull off all her furs and left her in some cold environment.” Said Mitzi.

“Well that is Niko for you, if you mess with her brothers or anyone or anyplace he cherish. She will pays you back full.” He explained in a lukewarmly. “Same goes for her brothers. He went above and beyond to get his sister back after Velvet kidnapped her for her little show.”

Hannibal looks at a sleeping Velvet in Mitzi’s arms. “It could have been her parents’ fault for not giving her the attention she needs. All she wanted ever wanted was their validation.”

“Oh….” Said Mitzi, looking at Velvet in sincere sympathy, that she know what it like to have a parent who failed to attend to her emotional needs. But not like this!

Mitzi pat Hannibal’s back for comfort.

“Don’t worry, I am sure Pakmar will help out in her business,” said Mitzi. Hannibal looks skeptical when she said it.

“I know, I know, you don’t trust the words of a superhero, whose happened to be the daughter, whose dad went from being a con-man/black market arm dealer to a founder of his own security company to anti-hero to the mayor of Undertown, and now President of Earth, it is possible,” said Mitzi. “Look. If you play your cards right for her, Pakmar will provide the money for her, or be a successor in one of his businesses, as long as Tennyson does not destroy them. I don’t blamed Pakmar for becoming the way he, but he needs to loosen up a bit for once. He is getting old. Plus he is now a grandpa since his 487 children are now all grow up and some of them have family of their own.” Mitzi continued to advise Hannibal, searching for signs that he would see hopes beneath the pessimism. “I can even come with you to negotiate if you want.”

Hannibal looks at Mitzi. There is determination in her big yellow eyes. The same sparks he see in Sandra, that he wants to extinguish so badly. But he couldn’t. She is using her time to help Velvet in her time of need. All because she is consider a downtrodden because she is a corrupted lumen, and she is on to something. She doesn’t need to use her privilege for her own selfish desire, but just to make Undertown better. Not to mention, she has her own ways of making a better life for the downtroddens, whether they are aliens and humans, both cybernetic, mutated/altered, or ‘normal’ with her friends from the Rebel Rainbow. Her words, actions, power, and connections.

Hannibal’s expression turns from a deadpan to a twisted smile. Mitzi shudder and her quills to go up and get goosebumps. Hannibal gets up and turns to Mitzi, smiling at her. He put his hands in his pockets.

“D-Don’t do any silly business,” she said. “I am warning you!”

She imagine what kind of horrors Hannibal have inside the pockets of The Mad Wolfhound. She pull out her quill ready to defend her and Velvet from this twisted man.

“Thanks you for helping me with my dilemma in managing to give Velvet a better future.” Said Hannibal. “I don’t like being indebted to people. So here.”

He pulls out folded papers that he dug out from his pocket of his long forest punk aesthetic jacket. “You earns my recommendation to you going to Camp Synonymous, and a potential ally in your team’s goal.”

Mitzi glued her eyes at what it is revealed to her Camp Synonymous pamphlet and the LPI poster. Mitzi is relax. “Oh. You want me to be in the summer camp Leona been to and… how could a community service from another city can help?”

“I cannot tell you, it is better you find out yourself Spider-Mousekey.” He said.

“Ugh,” said Mitzi, disliking the nickname he gave her. She thinks for a minute or two. She needs to get a renewal of her hero license, which her dad have given to her and her friends, plus she could really need to hone her skills and powers and it can really boost her team’s popularity more. Leona has done a lot for them, maybe it is time to repay the favour. “Can the rest of the Rebel Rainbow sign up too?”

Hannibal nod. Mitzi smiles.

“……Where should we sign up?” She said.

Mitzi aka Ms. Orange and Lucius Vreedle belong to @aprilbrowines

Velvet, Dan (mentioned), Elizabeth (mentioned), Plumber Alice (mentioned), Dorana Jr. Starling Lumenia (mentioned), and Astra Nova Lumenia (mentioned) belong to @gloriousdreamunknown

Niko Corduroy (mentioned), Leona Torasdottir da Costa (mentioned), and Hannibal Zomboni belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

Sandra Stoppable (mentioned) and Travis Mystery (mentioned) belong to @ej-cappy-universe

Keith Mystery (mentioned) belongs to @cooltmoney95

The design of Sceles Vreedle belongs to @princess-lunalu

[instructionsnotincluded]

All of a sudden, Meatball is the human and the 100th and our girls in the ATA are dogs.

What breed is everyone? Is Buck a golden retriever?

OOOOOOH. This is fun!!! And I have put a lot of thought into this, hahahahahahahaha. So I hope you don't hate it! 🤣

I think Buck’s your rescue dog! He’s soft, but he’s had a hard life, and despite all that he’s just trying to do the right and honest thing. I think he’s a mix between a shepherd and a mountain dog of some kind that looks absolutely adorable, but used to live on the street.

Now Bucky, I think he’s your golden. He’s the helper dog you get your rescue to teach them how to be a dog and give them a friend, someone to show you how to experience the world. He’s lovable, he’s loyal, and he loves to run around and chase a ball, and he’s so so patient.

Dorothy gives me the Border Collie vibe. She’s got a pretty loud bark when need be, she herds her girls and the rest of the pilots she’s in charge of, she goes up against anyone she needs to for them, and she’s super super smart.

Rose totally screams Afghan to me. She’s so smart and independent and confident, and she’s driven and suspicious of people, but she’s also a little in her head sometimes, and may seem a little ditzy or self absorbed, when she’s actually far from it. She’s loyal and she doesn’t trust just anyone. And she has really, really great hair.

I think a Brittany fits Amelia. She’s energetic and loving, she gives everyone a chance and she’s never met someone who she couldn’t make into a friend. She’s smart, she wears her heart on her sleeve, she’s a really fast learner and one of the quickest to move through the ranks in the ATA, and she doesn’t let a whole lot get her down.

I don't know why, but I cannot get a Pug out of my head when I think of George. Or a Corgi. Like, he's just so fun and witty and he's always a good time. He's clever and charming and fairly docile (until provoked) and he commands a room so well.

Curt kinda feels like a Jack Russell Terrier, honestly. Or maybe something crossed with a Chihuahua. He's lively and alert, he sometimes has a little bit of an attitude, but he's really fast and has so much courage and spunk and he's so dedicated to his friends.

Ok, hang with me here, but I think Rosie's 100% a Standard Poodle. He's sociable, energetic, athletic, and beyond intelligent. He's showy and smooth but he's also sweet and hard-working. Anyone looking at him would think he's a total teddy bear, but he's actually a machine who is never afraid to do the right thing and follows orders like a champ. His nickname is Twinkle Toes, he's a total poodle.

And, finally, our girl. Our damaged but in the process of healing heroine, Stella Frank. I have gone back and forth on so many different dogs, because I couldn't find just the right one. I briefly considered the Doberman, but Frank's a little too hesitant for that breed, I think. I considered a smaller dog in the terrier family or even a beagle, but she's not that friendly or loud, and I even looked into a Dalmatian, but I'm not quite sure "energetic" is the right word for Frank. Anxious? Nervous? Needing to move her body so she doesn't get a little destructive? Yes. She's not jumping up and down, running around in circles excited.

BUT, there was one dog I just kept coming back to: the Greyhound. She's pretty mild, but a little standoffish and sensitive. She doesn't respond well to criticism or harsh/loud words, and her former life wasn't a great one. Which, I think many Greyhounds also experience. She doesn't like strangers, she can be a little off-putting and straight faced, but once she's comfortable and familiar she's fun to be around and affectionate. She wants to be part of a team, rather than a cog in a machine, and she likes wide, open spaces where she can be as free as she wants to be.

[ladylooch]

daddy connor solo taking care of both babies would be so funny, he really is super dad.

stella wants buttered noodles?? he’s gonna make it for her.

winnie wants meatballs? okay he’s gonna make it.

"Babe, make them eat the same meal." Lucie groans when she comes home.

"They deserve whatever they want."

"You're the problem." She sighs.

"I'm raising the bar high for our babies, honey. I'm okay with that."

[paulinawoodpecker]

Cloudy with a chance of meatballs next gen

Stella: (10)

[whatsonmedia]

Craving Alert! 7 Restaurants in LA Stealing the Spotlight

Forget your boring, same-old dinner routine! Los Angeles is serving up a sizzling summer with a fresh crop of incredible new restaurants. From Persian soul food to Michelin-starred pizza artistry, this list is your ultimate guide to the hottest dining experiences in the City of Angels. Whether you're a budget-conscious gourmand or a special occasion foodie, we've got your cravings covered. Dive in and discover your next LA culinary adventure! 1.    Azizam Where> 2943 W Sunset Blvd, Los Angeles Embark on a culinary journey to Persia at Azizam. This inviting eatery showcases homestyle delights like succulent turmeric-braised chicken and decadent kofte tabrizi, a giant beef meatball bursting with a delightful surprise of walnuts and dried fruits. The emphasis on fresh, high-quality ingredients and a charming atmosphere make Azizam a perfect choice for a casual yet memorable meal. 2.    Stella in Beverly Hills Where> 8899 Beverly Blvd, West Hollywood For those seeking an exquisite fine-dining experience, Stella presents a modern interpretation of Italian cuisine. Chef Rob Gentile's masterful touch is evident in every dish, from the luxurious burrata adorned with Canadian olive oil and caviar (optional) to the tableside preparation of branzino crudo. Stella promises an unforgettable exploration of Cal-Italian flavors in a sophisticated, subterranean setting. 3.    KTeam BBQ in Koreatown Where> 936 S Vermont Ave, Los Angeles Immerse yourself in the vibrant Koreatown barbecue scene at KTeam BBQ. This newcomer offers a more affordable approach to Korean barbecue, without compromising on quality. Savor the melt-in-your-mouth thinly sliced frozen pork belly, their signature offering, or savor the classic tteokbokki alongside an array of delectable banchan side dishes. KTeam BBQ promises an authentic taste of Seoul at an accessible price point. 4.    Bread Head in Santa Monica Where> 1518 Montana Ave, Santa Monica The highly anticipated Bread Head has finally arrived, gracing Santa Monica with its artisanal take on the humble sandwich. Expect an explosion of flavor with every bite, thanks to their signature, impossibly crackly focaccia bread. Bread Head elevates the sandwich experience with top-notch meats, gourmet cheeses, and inventive flavor combinations. 5.    Burgette in Santa Monica Where> 111 Santa Monica Blvd, Santa Monica Channel your inner Parisian at Burgette, a Santa Monica gem specializing in gourmet takes on the classic burger. Their menu boasts a variety of unique options, including pescatarian and vegetarian choices. However, the showstopper is undoubtedly the La Vivienne burger, a decadent masterpiece featuring bone marrow butter, melted raclette cheese, and a touch of sweetness with tomato jam. Don't forget to indulge in their perfectly crisped French fries for a truly satisfying dining experience. 6.    Kitakata Ramen Ban Nai Where> 4338 Pacific Coast Hwy, Torrance The beloved Kitakata Ramen chain has finally landed in the South Bay, bringing their acclaimed ramen expertise to Torrance. Step away from the usual tonkotsu broth and delve into their signature shoyu ramen, a clear and flavorful pork broth paired with perfectly cooked shina soba noodles. Craving a spicier option? The green chili shio ramen with its scallion garnish provides a welcome kick. Kitakata Ramen Ban Nai offers a delightful selection of gyoza and other sides, catering to all palates. 7.    Leopardo Where> 460 S La Brea Ave, Los Angeles Michelin-starred Chef Joshua Skenes takes center stage at Leopardo, his new venture in La Brea. This "casual" pizzeria, where quotation marks feel entirely appropriate considering the multi-course tasting menu option, elevates pizza to an art form. Black-spotted, crust-dominant pies showcase the quality of seasonal ingredients, while unique toppings like housemade giardiniera and stracciatella cheese add unexpected layers of flavor. Leopardo offers a truly multifaceted dining experience, with delectable raw dishes, wood-fired mains, and a stellar dessert selection. While the price point reflects the exceptional quality, the pizza remains the undeniable star, offering a luxurious yet approachable introduction to Leopardo's culinary artistry. For more updates on eat & drink check out WhatsOn 1.    Azizam 2.    Stella in Beverly Hills 3.    KTeam BBQ in Koreatown 4.    Bread Head in Santa Monica 5.    Burgette in Santa Monica 6.    Kitakata Ramen Ban Nai 7.    Leopardo Read the full article

[hazbincalifornia]

Blitz and stolas first reaction when stella begans to roll over for the first time

Their meatball is moving of Her Own Accord, rejoice! They're super excited.

[belgiumvisit]

Leuven - 1: Bars, Cafes and Restaurants for eating and drinking

On a March 2024 visit we enjoyed good value meals at the following establishments:

De Werf

Note De Werf is in a student residential area and is closed on Saturday and Sunday nights when many students are away.

It is at the top corner of Hoogeschoolplein and has tables and chairs outside when they are not packed away for the weekend.

There is Stella Artois on draught and a good range of bottled Belgian beers. The food menu features wraps, pasta dishes, salads and chowders (bowls) with plenty of vegetarian options.

Tim's regular dish here is penne with meatballs and Provencale sauce. (13.80 euros). Don't expect a gastronomic treat but portions are large and tasty!

The interior decor finishes are rough and ready with many quirky items as decoration. You probably won't find a cheaper restaurant and you may be the oldest customers but there's a nice atmosphere, service is good and there's no pressure to vacate tables quickly.

Habibi

Habibi is a small Palestinian restaurant at 128 Diestsestraat, the smaller street that runs almost parallel to Bondgenotenlaan from Leuven station towards the centre. It's closed on Sundays and closes at 9.30pm or earlier on opening days.

We left it quite late on a Saturday night but were lucky to be able to get a table without a booking as some customers were just leaving.

Inside there is a friendly atmosphere and it is quite brightly lit. The walls are ochre coloured and there are plants for a green touch.

Tim's choice of the mixed kebab dish is popular and includes skewered chicken, lamb and beef. Together with Meg's Falafel burger with fries and the Fattoush (salad) with pita chips and a small plate of thin flatbread and two beers, our bill came to 44.40 euros.

The limited beer range at Habibi includes Steenbrugge Blonde and Wit bottled beers.

Het Strand

Het Strand is hidden away up some steps in a new development at the corner of Tiensestraat and Andre Versaliusstraat, near Cinema Zed - Versalius.

It's worth finding as the vegetarian menu includes a wide variety of dishes and it also has a long bar with a good range of beers. The large contemporary space has columns, many windows and green plants.

It's open until late every night but closed on Mondays. There are five beers on tap and a good range of over 20 Belgian bottled beers including several from Brussels Beer Project.

Although it's quite brightly lit, there's a relaxing alternative feel about the place.

Tim appreciated the Taiwanese noodle soup dish with mushrooms, Chinese leaf, beansprouts and spring onion. (16.5 euros).

Ah Quy

Although not visited on this trip, Ah Quy at Alfons Smetsplein 4 was remembered as offering a good value quick Vietnamese meal.

[skiplo-wave]

I got all my stuff to make my Halloween dinner. I am making homemade spaghetti and meatballs. I got some Stella Rosa Black Wine to make my witches brew sangrias. I love Stella Rosa because they have low alcohol volume and they are sweet. I am going to make my pumpkin cheesecake cookies tonight.

Nice

I’ll be at work closing shift :’)

[incorrect-winx-club-quotes]

Stella: I've never been in a snowball fight. Bloom: Really? Stella: I don't even know the rules. Is there like a points system, or is it to the death?

[cetaitlaverite]

I wanna know if Brady gets any flak from the guys for hiding his relationship with Millie in the stalag. I think he would be so shy and sweet cuz he's so obsessed with his darling Mils.

this is a great question!!! and i think you’re absolutely right, so i thought i'd explore it a bit under the cut 🤭

Today, John Egan hadn’t gotten any letters. He’d written to his family and he’d written to Stella and neither of them had replied. Stella had told him she’d hate him forever if his plane ever went down, so he guessed he could understand why she hadn’t replied. But his mother? And his sisters? He’d been disappointed when none of the mail that had come into the stalag had been addressed to him, to say the very least.

So, in place of getting to read any letters or smile down at any photographs, he sat on his bed and surveyed the room, watching all the men around him who were engrossed in their own correspondence. Buck was evidently reading a letter from Marge, judging by the smile on his face - one John knew he only ever wore for her - and Benny was grinning as he flicked through pictures of Meatball - John could see them from the bunk above his. Hambone was probably reading a letter from his wife and the others from their parents. And Brady -

John’s eyes got stuck on Brady. He’d had two envelopes addressed to him and one he’d ripped open carelessly and skimmed hastily before setting aside. The other he had held reverently in his hands, gazing down at it as though it was his most precious belonging, before carefully tearing open the envelope and withdrawing the letter.

He was smiling at it, now. And John knew that look. He knew it because it was on the faces of several men in this room right now as they read their letters. He knew it because he’d worn it a few times himself, had even worn it when writing one of his letters.

That was the look of a man in love.

John wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t going to call Brady out right now. But he also wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. So for now he minded his business, taking a long look around the room as though it wasn’t as familiar to him as the interior of a B-17 by now, and waited until Brady had finished reading his letter and was instead grinning widely down at a selection of photographs.

John watched him for one beat, two, and then called, “Brady.”

Brady’s head snapped up to look at him. “Hm?” He had a dazed, surprised look on his face, like he’d forgotten where he was, and John couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Last I remember you didn’t have a girl,” John said, setting both feet down on the floor and leaning forward over his knees, “but I know it’s not your ma who’s got you smiling like that. Got something to share with the class?”

Clearly, he did, for when the eyes of the room were upon him he shrivelled under their gaze, flushing crimson up to his ears.

John was chuckling under his breath as he watched Brady search for something to say. But, after a few moments, he decided to put him out of his misery, merciful soul as he was. “When were you planning on telling everyone about your secret relationship with Millie?” he wondered casually enough.

It was only a shot in the dark, based entirely off of one thing he’d heard Brady say on the day they’d taken off from Thorpe Abbotts for the final time, when Brady had been talking to Freddie on the radio before they’d taxied. John couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said but it had been some grand compliment for Freddie to pass onto Millie, something about her beauty, and he remembered being surprised Brady had had it in him to be so forward.

But, evidently, his shot in the dark was right, because Brady’s blush turned furious and he didn’t deny it.

It all made sense now, John thought. When Brady had said that about Millie he wasn’t being forward, he was being cautious, getting his ducks in a row in case he didn’t come back. He hadn’t been professing his love for Freddie’s best friend for the first time, he’d been reasserting it.

The rest of the men in the room were badgering Brady, now, demanding to know whether it was true, and Brady bore it valiantly until they got so intense with their questioning he had to put an end to it. So he held up the pile of photographs in his hand and turned them around, displaying to the room a selection of shots of Millie Harlow herself, and one of the two of them together.

Congratulations were in order and Brady received them plentifully, like a monarch accepting gifts from his loyal and loving subjects. Millie had been sought after back at Thorpe Abbotts, after all - Benny had been after her once, and John would be lying if he said he hadn’t tried his luck - but really everyone was just happy about how utterly made up Brady looked to be getting to show off his girl like this. He was so clearly smitten, so clearly in love.

It made John’s heart ache, so he turned away.

Buck was the only other person in the room whose eyes weren’t on Brady. Instead, they were on John. “She’ll write soon,” was all he said, and John knew he meant Stella.

Shrugging, John turned his eyes out of the window and started searching for birds. He listened to Brady talking about Millie and wondered whether he should get his hopes up or not, wondered whether the next time they got mail it might be him getting to grin down at a letter, getting to show off photographs of his girl.

[basilone]

KILLY!!!! hello! here to send in a prompt for my girl Stella and prompt 46 - protection! :) thank youuuu!

Hiii! 💙 Love that you wanna see more of Stella, ty!! Hope you'll like this one. 😊

protection

She should have waited.

Waited for Max and Jules, at least, because waiting for Tiny to get ready would have meant waiting for half the party to be over by the time they finally got there. Dee was out of the question – a stomach bug even Lucy couldn’t fix – and Lord only knows where Nora disappeared off to after dinner. She’d half-expected to find the others at the party, laughing and joking and drinking, but…

Stella heaves a sigh. Then another one. Locks eyes with Douglass, who seems to be waiting for a response she’s not about to give him. Lets her gaze slide over his buddies – Blakely the only one she can name – before fixing on the same piece of wall that’s gotten her through one-sided conversations like this one before. She should get Push to mention to Lemmons that the wall’s paint is peeling off in the corner right above that ugly armchair. Maybe he can spare it a lick of paint or figure out what to do about it that’d make it less crooked.

“Hey, that wall isn’t gonna dance with you,” interjects Douglass, stepping back into her line of sight in a way that’s got her balling both fists. “We’re all friends here, right?”

We work the same job, sure, she almost retorts. Just because we blow things up together doesn’t mean we’re friends now. Stella knows he won’t get the nuance. Guys like him never really do. She allows her eyebrow to raise just a little, just enough.

“Come on, Lombardi”– and he doesn’t even pronounce it right, elevates her name too much –“us bombardiers, we got a bond, don’t we?”

An arm slips over her shoulders before she can convey her new retort with a well-practiced huff. A thumb rubs a small circle over her insignia, soothing, while she’s pulled against a very warm side. Soap and aftershave are playing tug-of-war with a sharp whiskey twang, settling in her nostrils and coating her tongue with the urge to feel the latter’s burn in her throat. She knows this scent and touch as well as she knows her bomb visor. Relaxes into it the moment it fully registers, letting her shoulders drop and her balled fists unfurl.

“You trying to get between that pilot and bombardier bond, Doug?” His question is good-natured. Upbeat, even. Teasing where it counts, defusing the fact that he’s interceding at all. “Lombardi here”– and of course he gets her name pitch perfect, rolling off his tongue like that’s where it’s always been –“is owed a drink by me tonight. Gonna get her one before Lottie shows up and takes that glass outta her hand!”

Somehow, he’s already managed to steer her away from the offending party. Somehow, his hand’s clasped firmly around her shoulder and squeezing her to his side as he guides her over to the bar. She just about manages to nod at Cleven in passing – his answering nod is minuscule – but lets her gaze slide straight over Egan, who’s far too busy pontificating about which song he wants to be singing later tonight. There’s still a half-full glass on this side of the bar. A spare coaster. Meatball’s leash dangling from a stool – the dog itself being entertained by the Clubmobile girls who don’t really talk to the bomber girls any – and his jacket hanging over that.

“You looked like you needed a rescue there,” he says, smiling, leaning them both against the bar before letting go of her. “You should just tell him no next time, all right? He’s good about that. Not that good about silences.”

“No often comes with the why not,” she reminds him, “and I don’t have enough breath in my lungs for how long that answer would be.”

Benny’s eyes crinkle further in amusement. “That bad, huh? Poor Doug.”

“He’ll live,” judges Stella archly, following that group’s new beeline for the Clubmobile girls. “Would you look at that. I guess the bond between bombardiers is forgotten real fast after all, huh.”

He nudges her side. “Pilot and bombardier have the better one, don’t ya think?”

The safer one, she almost says. The one that gives me some protection among the wolves. “You fishing for compliments here, DeMarco?” she laughs instead, nudging his side back in response. “Shame on you.”

“Ow, Frosty, watch where ya put that damn elbow!”

“You’re such a baby,” she sighs, shaking her head in dismay. “That wasn’t even that hard. You’re real fragile, sir.”

“Lombardi,” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes as though he’s already tired of her, “call me fragile one more time…”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be on your own, kid,” decides Benny, raising his glass to her. “So you better be nice to me now, huh?”

Stella affects a pout she doesn’t mean a lick of. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he chuckles. “Bossy as hell, you are. Those guys should be thankin’ me for rescuing them from you.”

She stops. Stares. “Benny,” she says, “that’s some bullshit.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it is.” She rolls her eyes. Locks her hand around a new glass, half-full like his, once it’s set in front of her. “You already got plenty of bossy girls in your life.” She knows Lottie is. Darlene, too, though most wouldn’t peg her like that. “Hardly need me adding to your troubles there.”

He shoots her a long, searching look out of the corner of his eye. “Who says I’ve got troubles?”

Stella snorts out a laugh. “You did, last time we were drinking.” She remembers him clinging to her shoulders. Whiskey breath mingling with chocolate. “Hope you solved them,” she laughs, sipping her drink exactly the way she was taught not to, “because I’m sure as shit not gonna help.”

“Cold, Frosty, real cold.”

She shrugs. “Hazards of the job, mio fratello.”

“Remind me why I like you.”

“I’m the best bombardier in the Hundredth, that’s why.”

“Ego.”

“All true, baby.” She grins. “Now, how about you tell me more about that bet you got going on with Lottie?”

His answering groan just makes her laugh out loud even more.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hi! I saw prompt #196 and damn, I couldn't stop thinking about Andy 🥴

I hope this isn't too out there hahaha.

Work It Out

Warnings: implied noncon, cheating, two faced Andy

You hate everything. It feels like no matter what you do, you can't win. You're starving, you're sore, and exhausted. And the scale hasn't ticked a single number down. You were trying everything those fad diets and fitness guides told you. You just couldn't seem to shed the extra pounds.

Your days at the gym grew no less uncomfortable as you look around and see enviable bodies, younger, older, all of the above. Every body that wasn't yours.

You turn up the belt until you're jogging, almost too fast until you're sure you'll fall on your face. You try to meter your pants and keep from hanging your mouth open, instead puffing through your nose. 

You wipe your forehead and feel a trickle of sweat on your lip as you brace the metal handbars and keep your feet moving. You bat away droplets with your lashes and flick away that on your lip with your tongue. You shakily pull on your shirt to air out the dampness and nearly stumble.

“Did you just look me up and down and bite your lip?" The deep voice startles you and you clasp tightly to the machines as your soles crash down clumsily, "Cause if you did, we’re having sex right now.”

You saw the man every day as you went to the same treadmill. You would guess he's 40, maybe older, and in peak shape for one half his age. He leans an elbow on your machine as you gape at him and stammer at how he arches a brow. Your grip slips and you go hurtling back as you fall to your knees and fly off the back of the machine.

"Oh shit," you hear him as you catch yourself on your hands and gasp for air, muscles shaking, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break your concentration."

You hear a beep and the belt stills before he nears you. He kneels down and touches your shoulder as you lift your head.

"I think… um, I misread the situation, I thought you were looking at me," he chuckles nervously, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you sit back on your heels and rub your hip, "just mortified."

"I really didn't…" he pauses and drops his hand from your shoulder, "wow, I should be embarrassed. These last two weeks I thought… well I thought you were looking at me and, geez, that guy on the lift machine must have thought I was winking at him."

"I don't know--" you touch your chest as you catch your breath, "what?"

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he shrugs and stands up, offering his hand, "get a bit carried away watching you… that sounds weird, I'm sorry."

You take his hand and let him pull you up. You nod and smile awkwardly. "I'm flattered," you say thinly, "but… what would your wife think?"

You let go of his hand and look pointedly at his ring. He gives a tight-lipped smile and sucks his teeth, "separated… I just, uh, feel naked without it."

"Oh, sorry," you cringe, "that sounds, uh, complicated."

"Not really, just had to go to a new gym so I didn't see her with the other man," he scoffs, "that's too much information, huh?"

"You know, you just watched me land on my ass, I wouldn't worry about it," you wave him off, "but uh…" you try not to let your eyes drift but they do. He's fit and fine and you can't imagine any woman cheating on him but that ring was a problem, "look, I do mean it, it's flattering but I'd rather wait until you can take the ring off. It's… not something I wanna step in, you know?"

"Makes sense," his smile fell, "so…" he wiggles the ring off and tucks it into his pocket.

"Um," you look around but no one else seems to notice you or the man.

"Oh uh that was just an awful line," he shakes his head, "we can start with drinks."

You squint at him and bite your lip. His eyes follow and you make yourself stop.

"That's so hot," he says, "you sure you weren't looking at me?"

"You sure you were looking at me?" You counter, "uh, a drink sounds… fine but I might stick to water, as you saw I'm not great on my feet."

"Sure, I gotta finish my cool down but do you know The Frog?"

"Yeah, just down the block," you fill in.

"I'll be there at…" he checks his apple watch, "seven? Can I expect you?"

"Mhmmm," you nod nervously, half disbelieving and half humiliated.

"Andy," he offers his name and his hand. You shake it and give your own. 

He winks and you try to hold a smile. You watch him go back to the weight bench before you retrieve your water bottle and retreat. You could hit the shower before the bsr and at least save a little face.

💪

You walk into the bar before you can lose your nerve. You look around in the dim light, certain this is a cruel trick. That man could not be interested in you. Even if he was halfway a divorce, it was too good to be true. You won't be surprised if you're stood up.

"Hey," you see the wave of the hand and hear the half shout. 

You let out your breath and cross to the tall table in the corner. You smile and climb up on the stool across from Andy. He returns the gesture and looks over as a server approaches.

"Are we finally ready?" She asks sweetly.

"Stella," he orders and nods at you. You order a diet coke and the server smiles at Andy before she walks away. 

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you say. 

"Nope," he says coolly, "you know, one drink couldn't hurt. It might ease the sting a little from earlier too."

"Hmm," you grin sheepishly, "there's not enough gin in the world for that."

"Oh, a gin girl, I'll keep that in mind," he smirks, "so how was the rest of your work out?"

"A work out," you scoff, "I thought exercise was supposed to be relaxing."

"Certain kinds are more effective," he lifts a brow and you roll your eyes at the flirty remark.

"Wow, you're such a cheeseball," you giggle.

"I'll take it," he says, "I usually get meatball, all brawn no brain."

"That's yet to be determined," you jibe and sit back as the server returns with your drinks and you thank her. 

"No pressure," he says dryly, "none at all."

You laugh again. This Is easier than you expect. You've never been the smoothest and he was probably the best looking guy you ever talked to. No guy with his eyes and his jawline saw you past the skinny blondes and stunning insta models.

You lose track of time and finish your drink. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and only then realise how Andy's progressively shifted his stool around so he's right beside you. You need to take a breath. 

You feel lighter when you come out from the bathroom and pass another woman on her way in. You slow as you get to the bar as you find Andy with his phone to his ear. You near quietly, hoping not to disturb his call.

"No, I'm still at the office," he says, "yeah… no I forgot to grab the dry cleaning, Laurie. Tomorrow, okay? Right, bye, hon."

He hangs up and you realise he's lying to the woman on the phone and you. You brush by his seat and grab your purse from the back of the chair where you slung it.  He flinches as you pull out your wallet.

"So Laurie, that your wife?" You pick through your bills, "doesn't sound like you're separated."

"Woah, come on, let me explain," he tries to push your wallet away and you toss a five on the table, the tip would be as much as the drink itself.

"Explain what?" You rolls your eyes and scowl, "I'm so stupid."

You storm away and hear him shuffle before his stool wobbles and his steps follow you out into the night. He catches your arm and pulls you back before you can hail a cab.

"Look, I…" he drops his head, "we may as well be separated okay? She hasn't touched me in over a year, I sleep on the couch in my office… all we do is fight."

"So? Either get counselling or cut ties, but I'm not fucking with a married man--"

"I… I'm waiting until my son goes to college," he says desperately as you shrug him off.

"And in the meantime what? You pick up fat girls at the gym to fill the void--"

"You're the only girl--"

"Besides your wife," you spit, "wow, I feel special."

You turn and try to raise your hand. It's caught in mid air and you're pulled back by the back of your shirt. You look around but you're too far down for the bouncer to see you and there's no one else passing by. 

Andy's thick arm snakes around your neck and his bicep pushes your chin up. He drags you around the corner and forces you toward an SUV. You bring your feet up and hit the side with your soles.

"The fuck?"

"Please, don't act like I'm not doing you a favour, honey," he gropes your ass as you struggle with him.

"Get off," you grunt as his hand slips over your hip and he turns you as he rips the door open. 

"Shhh," he pushes you up into the back seat and you slip down on the floor.

You push yourself up and huff on your stomach. You reach to the other door as he climbs in behind you and the doors click as you grab the handle. He straddles your ass as his hand covers your mouth and he bends over you. 

He presses his cheek to your temple and hushes you again. You see the shadows of pedestrians and their voices as they pass just outside. You murmur into his palm and claw at the door helplessly. Their steps fade into the distance as Andy grinds his crotch against your ass.

"Honey," he growls through his teeth, "I know you were looking at me…"