#we have reached that time of year once more fellas

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I love how the tv show is making the gods even BIGGER assholes then previously thought possible and that’s s a y i n g something

Athena quite literally said “you embarrassed me so I’m going to let you die horrifically in my own temple”

Anyway, dethrone Zues 2024 is once again upon us!! Now including dethrone Olympus 2024!! 💃💃✨

[starkwlkr]

Can you do max having a son? Nobody knew he had a girlfriend or a child except his mother and sister… until they see him interacting with a child that’s running around the paddock calling him daddy at one of the races.

daddy max | max verstappen

idk if max’s mom lives in the netherlands so for this imagine her and victoria live there 🧍🏽‍♀️ ok? ok 🫶🏼

Noah was a daddy's boy, it was clear. From the day he was born, Noah was declared Max's buddy. They did everything together, except when Max was racing of course. The two parents wanted to keep the young boy away from the spotlight so they never posted about him on their social media. Noah’s existence was unknown to many, fans, press even the drivers. Of course Max and Y/n’s family knew about the little boy. While Max was racing, Noah and Y/n would stay with Max’s mom, Sophie, and his sister, Victoria.

Once Noah had turned four years old, Max had a talk with Y/n. He wanted no more than to show the world his son. He would never admit it, but Max was jealous of Sergio. He got to celebrate his wins with his family while Max had to wait for a phone call from Y/n. But he always looked forward to that phone call.

“Come on, he’ll love it.” Max said over the phone. The next race was the Australian Grand Prix and he really wanted his son and partner to be there.

“He has been asking when his daddy is coming home. We both miss you. And he did ask when he can see the big cars in person.” Y/n sighed. “What about the press?”

“What about them?”

“What are they going to think when they find out the golden boy of Red Bull is a dad? They’re going to put two and two together and find out I had Noah at twenty.” Y/n said. They were young, even Jos was against them having Noah, but Max wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to be there for his son even if his father didn’t like the idea.

“Who cares if they find out we’re young parents. I love you and Noah and I finally want Noah to see his dad race. Sergio is constantly asking when you and I are going to have kids, you know?” Max chuckled.

“Of course. Listen, I’ll talk to you later. You need to rest.” Y/n spoke.

“But are you and Noah coming?”

“Bye, max.” Y/n said as she ended the phone call. Little did Max know, she and Noah were on the way to Max’s hotel room. Noah was almost half asleep, but he claimed he wanted to stay up to surprise his dad. “Go to sleep, baby. We’ll see daddy soon.” Y/n whispered to her son.

Max was getting ready for bed when he heard a knock on the door. He figured it was someone from the team or Daniel. When he opened the door, he immediately hugged his partner and his son even he the little guy was passed out with drool coming from the corner of his mouth.

“Surprised?” Y/n chuckled as Max took Noah from her arms.

“You’re evil. You had me thinking I wasn’t going to see you two at all this weekend.” Max kissed Noah’s forehead then set him on the bed and covered him with the sheets. He then walked to the door to help Y/n with their luggage.

“Don’t you think it’s about time Noah sees his daddy win?” Y/n smiled as she set her bag on the table.

“Don’t be so sure about that. Anything can happen.” Max said, sitting on the end of the bed.

“Yeah and what’s going to happen is you’re going to win. Noah and I believe in you, your family, your fans, you team. We all do.”

And it was no surprise that Max won that weekend. Little Noah was so happy to finally see his dad win. Jos was also in attendance, but the mom and son didn’t cross paths with the older Verstappen. Yes, he was in a somewhat happy mood since Max won, but he still wasn’t on good speaking terms with his son’s partner.

“Look, Noah! Daddy won this for you.” Max spoke to the four year old, showing him the trophy he had just received.

“Pretty.” Noah said looking at his and his mom’s reflection.

“Max, congratulations!” Daniel’s voice could be heard from miles away. Y/n adored the Aussie and his contagious smile. “And who’s this little fella?” He crouched down to reach Noah’s height.

“Tell him your name, baby.” Y/n encouraged her son.

“Noah.” The four year old said in a low voice.

“Hi, Noah. I’m a friend of your parents. My name is Daniel.” Daniel held out his hand for the boy to high five. Max watched the interaction between Daniel and Noah and thought it was the cutest thing on earth. After Daniel said goodbye to the family, Max enjoyed a moment with them before he was pulled away for interviews.

“Say bye to daddy.” Y/n waved goodbye to Max with Noah.

“But I want him. I want daddy.” Max’s heart broke hearing his son’s cries for him.

“I can take him.” Max offered.

“You have interviews. We’re going to go find some food, I think he’s hungry.” Y/n adjusted the boy in her arms.

“I want daddy!” Noah cried even louder.

“Let me take him. Nothing is going to happen.” Max took the boy from Y/n. “Ready to meet some people, Noah?”

Y/n watched as her partner and son walked around the paddock. She could already see the headlines on every news article.

‘Max Verstappen mystery child?’

‘Red Bull golden boy is a father?!’

[nicolesainz]

“Written mine on my upper thigh” LN4

Lando Norris x f!reader

Author’s note: My comeback story HAD to be about the winner of the Dutch Grand Prix (by 22 seconds) and @freedaxf1 ‘s husband!! I present to you, possessive Lando Norris

Summary: Lando and you have been having an on and off relationship since your teenage years. While he lives his life in England, you’re back home trying to move on but everything seems impossible. What happens when Lando finally tracks the continues cycle?

Warnings: inaccuracies about Lando’s job and birthday, sexual themes, minors dni, 18+, nicknames, oral sex!

His eyes had been glued to my body for the better part of the night. I must admit mine were doing the exact same, given with how good he was looking. In all the years we have known each other this was one of the times where I have caught myself thinking “I will never share him with anyone. He is mine.”

I had come to London for a play with my friend group and we all decide to collectively separate our schedules and explore the city. In my case, I had been desperate enough to let someone else explore me. I knew that if I spent another month without his touch, I would need to buy a third vibrator.

As I was walking into the fourth bookstore of the day, trying to find as many new romance novels as possible, thankful I decided to pack very lightly, and my luggage had some extra space. It was at the very moment when my fingers laid on Shakespeare’s “Othello” when a raspy British voice tingled my entire body, “No surprise finding you looking at England’s most profound litterateur work.”

I turned around to be met with the most crystal blue eyes I had ever encountered in my life. They also happened to be the eyes of the man that drove me insane for most of my teenage years and fell in love with. I also was not surprised when I caught him licking his lips as he was staring into mine. Usually what that meant in both our minds was “Yours or mine?”

“I am starting to believe you have put a tracker on me given I can’t hide from you.”

“You will never find it sweetheart. I am better at hiding than you will ever be.”

“Now that you mentioned it, a certain pair of panties has me feeling uneasy every time I wear them on dates, maybe that’s your hiding spot.”

“Probably shouldn’t have worn them whilst you were with me. Or even when you weren’t with me, since it’s a sign that I have marked them as mine.”

“A tracker was unnecessary. The universe has sided with you, knowing all my dates were major failures.”

“I won’t lie to you, so I can’t say I am sorry for you baby. After all, I hardly doubt you reached a point with those poor fellas where you screamed their name as loud as you did mine.”

This probably would be an ideal time for him but very unfortunate time for me to admit that I once misnamed one of my dates and used his name instead. And an even more annoying fact that he was right about was that I had never reached a point with any of those guys to moan their names, or even let them touch me.

The past 3 months I hadn’t allowed myself to get physical with anyone else but him. Everyone was slowly starting to wonder why my visits to London were becoming more and more regular. As the months were going by quite fast, the use of my vibrator was becoming an even more usual habit. The moment I die I know there’s a place for me in hell, with the amount of times I have surrendered myself to the captivating voice of this Englishman, making the most unholy thoughts about his tongue and fingers touching the most inappropriate parts of my body, as I slide in my vibrator, imagining his insanely powerful body thumping against mine, groaning and moaning his name louder than a holy prayer.

“What brings you around my place this time? Missed my cock so much couldn’t get enough of it?”

“Friend group getaway if you so badly want to know. And trust me if I wanted to fuck you so much with one single call, I could have made you travel back home and wreck me, like the good obedient boy you are.”

“I think you are mistaking me for you darling. I don’t remember being the one who came knocking on one’s door begging for a night of pleasure. Or the one who screamed the other’s name so loud they lost their voice the next day and wanted to be fucked in front of a mirror so they could see how well I fit inside of them.”

I absolutely hate it how he knows exactly which buttons to push in order to play with my brain. Well, you’re the one who lets him so, it’s more your fault, not his. Although I absolutely love it when he pushes those buttons during sex.

I will never admit to his face that he is the best sex I have ever had. He doesn’t need to know that his ego doesn’t need more boost. Ever since I last saw him, he has changed massively. His hair has turned into a darker shade, the fuzziness in his hair has been replaced by a regular curly cut and only a few strands can be seen from the excess of his beanie. He probably has grown a few inches as well, hopefully his cock has as well.

“Say, how did you find me? If you are stalking me, I should get restraining orders now.”

“Happy coincidence. I was looking for new law books about school. And also, a gift for your birthday.”

My heart stopped when he said he was looking a gift for my birthday. I sent him a month ago for his own birthday a scrap book from my last visit in London with pictures we took of each other of the different sights we visited, maybe a few sneaky ones in bed as well.

“You know you don’t have to buy me anything. A text or a call is more than enough.”

“I know, my love, but nonetheless I had to get you something. Thought it was better than anything else.”

“Surely not better than being with you or hearing your voice.”

After I managed to escape from his eyesight, I went back to my room to get changed for the night out me and the guys were about to have. We mutually agreed not to pull an all-nighter so we would be in time tomorrow for the play. With the chilly weather I was met today, I decided that along with my tight dark blue dress, a pair of see-through leggings would be more than ideal. I was on a call with the girls and as I was applying my red lipstick, a message popped up on my screen.

“Try not to catch a cold tonight babe.”

Such small messages declaring his love for me were everything I was asking for in a man and I am thankful they are parts of him. We weren’t in a proper relationship but to the people that didn’t know me very well like my friends, I was always saying “Oh I have a boyfriend, but he lives in the UK”, because he indeed was the closest things I had to one.

When I finally found the location of the club, I managed to easily spot my friends, and I was greeted with many drinks to pick from. Alcohol heaven for sure. I decided to refrain from drinking over 2 glasses so I could enjoy their company more sober than drunk and in case I needed to carry anyone back to their hotels.

After 2 hours all the girls found themselves dancing on the main floor to a remix of Jason Derulo and Lady Gaga, the dirtier the better. All the lights were flashing on our bodies and every man around us was raising their glasses to the way we were dancing. One certain man though wasn’t very pleased with the way I was dancing.

My vision was slightly blurry, but I could tell from the facial expression and the crossed arms that his blood was boiling and the more I was shaking my ass, the more he was ready to throw hands to the other men that were drooling over me and then grab me from the waist and drag me out of the club. I slowly stopped and was about to go sit down with the boys of my friend group, when I felt a sudden arm forcing me away from the couch.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Or were you not thinking at all?” his voice has risen an octave higher than the music and had shaken me to my core. He has never yelled at me.

“I was just dancing. There’s no need to yell at me.”

“Almost 50 men were one step away from getting on the dance floor and laying their hands on you. Do you call that ‘just dancing’?”

“I wasn’t dancing alone, and I wasn’t the only one dancing in that manner.”

“Do you think I care what the other girls do?”

“I still don’t get where all this possessiveness comes from? I get that we have a good time together, I love you and you love me, but we aren’t in a relationship. You don’t own me. I can do whatever I want.”

“You do whatever you want and yet you let me play with you whenever you’re near me. You never stop me. You haven’t slept with other men since we last met and you always talk about how much you are missing me. I only talk about you to my friends, and I refuse to go on dates knowing you’re in another country saving yourself. So, forgive me if I care about you even though I am not your boyfriend.”

As much as it pains me sometimes to admit, I would give anything for him to be my boyfriend. He is the only man I trust with my heart and body. I hadn’t fallen in love with another man ever since we first kissed back when I turned 18. So yes, I can complain as much as I want.

“Feeling better now? I have stopped dancing, and I will go home to wear my nun costume so no man in sight sees any possible skin from my body. Will this please you? Or should I cover my face as well?”

“What would please me is if I had you every day close to my body, wrapped inside my arms, kissing your every inch day and night, claim you as mine forever but god forbid, we are ever in the same place for at least 2 weeks.”

I do not hold back, and I grab his face into my palms and kiss him fiercely. Every time we kiss, I get more and more intoxicated. I am being drugged by the best possible addictive poison. My heart is filled to the very top and I do not desire anything else more in this world that having him kissing me until my breath is cut short.

His tongue dances with mine and the feeling of vodka mixed with gin burns my throat in a pleasing way. I can feel my lipstick being smudged all over his face and as my hands are wrapped around his neck, my leg finds its way around his waist to pull him closer to my body. Everything betrays his power on me as I can feel him growing against me and moaning softly.

“Not here. I need you all for myself. Where are you staying?”

In just a few minutes I find myself slammed against the shower wall, with the water covering both our bodies, extending the heat. His lips found their way on my neck and his fingers are playing with my hardened nipples. My mouth can’t possibly contain the ungodly moans that he is producing and fuck him nothing can ever top this.

“Say once more than you aren’t mine and I will stop being gentle with you.”

“I am so yours. No other man kisses me the way you do. No other man touches me the way you do.”

“No sweetheart, no other man is allowed to touch you. Get it?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Words barely are being phrased properly as I scream in pleasure when he softly bites my nipple after having bitted my collarbone. I have come to terms with the fact that I love it when he is biting me. It’s his way of showing that he loves me. I literally have no control of my body the moment he lays his kisses on me. Its absolutely beautiful.

“I love no one else but you. Oh, how I adore you.” I manage to mumble through the groans.

“What an angel you are. From the moment I met you I knew I was done. Oh, you are never leaving my grasp.”

“Then don’t make me leave. I can be yours, I am yours.”

He then proceeds to fall on his knees, so he can be met with my womanhood as he raised my leg over his shoulder for better view.

“Facetiming you will never compare to the real deal. Oh, my beauty.” And my hands instantly grab against his hair and pull then tightly as his tongue is toying with my wet core. Every inch of my body is trembling and I can’t physically stop moaning his name that by now even the neighbours are well aware of his existence.

“Be mine. Be mine forever. I will give you anything, all I want in return is you.”

“Don’t stop. Oh, I missed you. You take care of me better than anyone else.”

“I can’t go another 3 months without seeing you. Stay with me.”

“I love you but oh my, you know I can’t.”

“Be my girlfriend. Please let me be yours. Let me claim you as mine. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life.”

I look down on him as his lips detach from myself and the cold breeze of the shower hits me with an open mouth from the shock he just caused. I never in my life thought he would ask me to be his girlfriend. It made my heart shutter when I couldn’t have him years ago and now that I am given the chance, everything restored. All I could possibly ask for.

“You probably found the best timing in the world to ask me such question. At my most vulnerable.”

“Want me to ask you after I am finished eating you up darling?”

“I mean, no, my answer would be the very same.”

“Which is? Care to share with an impatient man?”

“A million times yes. Do you think I have spent all this money in visiting you for you to ask me that question and then say no? I would have been insane.”

“You kind of are insane.”

“Excuse me?”

“You go insane every time we kiss and then you drive me insane so we are even.”

“Insane boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Surely the perfect match.”

[chocolatechubby]

Maybe it was the glass of heavy cream and dozen gingerbread men I ate just before bedtime. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Christmas Eve, and the residue of waiting up for Santa Claus hadn’t diminished in the 23 years since I was six years old. Maybe it was the hard on that wouldn’t go away if I thought about growing fat and round. Whatever it was, I couldn’t sleep. I reluctantly pulled my bloated body from my warm bed to take a piss and a crap in the bathroom. On the way to the john, I passed the Christmas tree in the living room. The shiny packages underneath danced with the reflections of twinkling lights. I’d made quite a haul this year. I was pretty sure the small neatly wrapped package in the front was an Ipod from my mom. And I was pretty sure that the envelope from my ex-partner was a membership to a gym. My gaining sixty pounds had a lot to do with our break-up. It was nice that we were still friends. “Funny…” I thought. “The thing I REALLY want Santa to bring me won’t fit under a tree.”

When I had finished in the bathroom, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. The 160lb gym rat was gone. There in front of me was a 220lb jock-gone-soft. Since I had continued to go to the gym, I was thick and solid. The roundness of my face was beginning to cut away my cheek definition. The beginnings of a double chin made my cock jump. The definition in my arms was beginning to fade: I loved putting on sleeveless shirts and seeing the thick round guns that were once defined biceps and triceps stretching through. My legs were growing huge. The size 38 pants were straining to keep my thighs in. And I had a real belly. Not the beginning gut I was so proud of in college, but a thick waist protruding over my jeans and a noticeable round mound that jutted out from my plump tits and curved forward six inches. It had gotten a number of rubs and stares from my co-workers over the past few weeks. I thought my pecker was going to fall off from all the jerking off I did in the office restrooms after each “Woah! When’s the baby due?” or “You’d better lay off the holiday food Chris!” But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to look like all of those fellas that I admired online. I wanted people to move out of the way when I walked down the street. I wanted to look in the mirror and be awed by my girth. I reached down in my shorts and began massaging my cock. I imagined what it would be like to have to work pass mounds of belly fat just to touch it. I could feel my hard on growing, and my dick was responding to both my touch and my fantasy. It wouldn’t be long now—at least not for the explosion from my balls. The weight gain would take more time.

As I was going for climax, I heard a sound. Not from me but coming from the living room. At first faint, it grew louder—a slow and steady rise and fall. A snore? It sounded like someone snoring. Maybe somehow the air conditioner had turned itself on. I listened a little more intently. No, this was a HUMAN sound. Someone had broken into my apartment! I pulled up my shorts, looked around for a blunt object, grabbed the toilet brush, and headed towards the sound. As I rounded the corner, I was not prepared for what I saw. There in my leather armchair next to the Christmas tree, snoring to high heaven was Santa Claus.

Only it wasn’t Santa Claus. I mean he was dressed in a beautiful red suit—far superior to all those costumed Santas that you see in department stores. This suit looked like it had been tailored for him: luxurious and warm—trimmed in ermine and leather. It fit his big round frame to a “t.” He had to weigh 350, if a pound, and his thick beard was close-cropped, neatly trimmed, and a deep auburn like the wavy hair that curled from under his fur cap. This guy couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. And he was gorgeous. During my whole relationship with my ex, Zach, I had never cheated. But I will admit—especially towards the end when he started nagging more about the weight—I had serious fantasies about dudes like the one asleep in my easy chair, but they never included being robbed by them.

Next to him on the floor was a big, empty red velvet sack. I had to admit: this guy had class. I’d read stories in the newspaper about thieves breaking into houses dressed as Santa Claus and taking people’s presents. I never thought it would happen to me. Pictures of the Grinch stuffing Cindy Lou Who’s Christmas tree in his sack crowded my brain. Well this sucker wasn’t getting MY Ipod without a fight!

I tiptoed over to where the hot thief was snoring, and I kicked his engineer boot and stepped back—toilet bowl brush held high. “Hey you!” I shouted. The guy stirred. I gave him my best grimace and said: “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my place?!” He opened one eye and peered up at my brush and me. He grinned (and of course he had a killer smile) and said, “What are you going to do? Tidy Bowl me to death?”

I wasn’t quite ready for such a laid-back attitude. It took me aback for a moment. “No, smart ass…” I answered finally. “… I’m going to call the police and have you hauled off to spend Christmas in jail—that’s what I’m going to do!!!” I bellowed triumphantly. “Oh, and for future reference: Santa has a WHITE beard—not red! You are NO Kris Kringle.”

“Actually, his beard isn’t white. It’s silver. And you’re right…I’m not Kris Kringle. He’s my dad. I’m KARL Kringle—his youngest son.”

Of all the responses in all the scenarios that I could imagine, not one of them included that particular statement. I stood in shock with my mouth open. He fumbled around for a bit and spoke: “This is what I get for breaking the first rule of Christmas Delivery: Don’t Fall Asleep. It’s just that it’s been a long night and seeing as this is my Last Stop and all, I couldn’t help myself.” He yawned and started hauling his big belly out of my chair “Look, don’t set off your loaded brush—I’m just looking for my wallet.” He was even more appealing standing. He was a fireplug: about my height (which made him somewhat short), he reminded me of Sean Astin as Samwise Gamgee in “The Lord of the Rings”: much bigger, but as cute as he could be. He patted himself down, searching around his big gut and barrel chest for a bulge. “Ahh, here it is!” He pulled out a simple leather wallet and flipped it open. “See.” He said.

I slowly inched forward and took the wallet out of his chubby hand. There he was, smiling with rosy cheeks. NORTH POLE DMV: Driver’s Permit was printed in white at the top of a red and green card. “May operate cars, trucks, motorcycles, snow skis and High-Capacity Sleighs” was prominently placed in the lower right hand corner.

“Real cute” I smirked. “So you’re a clever bandit. I’m sure your cell mate will get a real kick out of your sense of humor.”

“Man, some things don’t change, do they?” He smiled. “You’re still a closet believer posing as a skeptic aren’t you? I remember when you were six years old and wanted ‘Dream Date Ken’. You said to yourself, ‘I’ll believe in Santa if he brings me Ken.’ When you didn’t see it under the tree that Christmas morning, you were really sad, but you said, ‘I knew he wasn’t real.’ Boy were you surprised when you found it…”

“Hidden in your stocking!”

“Hidden in my stocking!”

We said it at the exact same time. My mouth was agape. “How did you know that?” I uttered. “Because I asked Dad if I could put it there.” Karl said. “I was twelve. Dad had been training me to take a route of my own. I had been coming with him since you were a baby—watching you grow up. I wanted you to work harder to trust your beliefs.”

I stumbled to my couch and sat down. This was incredible! So it was true: Santa really DID exist. “Yup.” Karl said, as if he’d read my mind. “Only the doubters have got part of the story right: he DOESN’T circle the world and deliver toys in one night. He hasn’t done that in a few hundred years. He has help from his sons.”

“Sons” I gasped, with emphasis on the “s.” “You mean there’s more of you?”

“Oh yeah” said Karl. “It's the family business. There’s Kris Jr., Kevin, Kurt, Klaus, Kyle, Keith, and Kwame.”

“Kwame?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little incident with dad and an African Queen a few years back…we don’t talk about that.” He whispered.

“So we divide up the earth and each take a chunk. Dad spends most of his time these days with the kids that need him most. He took India and New Orleans this year.”

“I see…” I said. “And you got my area.”

“Well, not so much GOT, as CHOSE your area. I told you. I’ve been watching you for many years. I’ve been waiting for that jerk of a boyfriend of yours to exit the picture. I’ve been crushing on you for a while now. I happen to be gay.”

“Oh.” My dick was jumping at regular intervals now. “Are all of you uh…?”

“Gay?” He said. “I doubt it. Nobody’s talking so we don’t really know. I’m pretty sure Kwame is. He keeps picking San Francisco as one of his stops. Listen, do you mind if I make myself comfortable?” he asked. “Uh…no.” I stammered, still trying to make sense of the fact that I had a big, bearded Santa Claus in my living room that was hot for me. “Great” he said and proceeded to undo his belt and buttons. His velvet coat fell to the floor, revealing the magnificent fat physique bulging from his white undershirt. His big, gorgeous arms were covered with a layer of soft red fur, and I could see tendrils of the same curling from under the neckline of his t. He began playing with his nipples as he slowly moved his ball belly towards me. “Listen,” he said again. “…do you mind if I make YOU more comfortable?”

“Uh…no.” was my startled reply.

We stood face to face. The heat between us was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. He smelled of smoldering fires and apples and cinnamon. He leaned in, and I felt his cock. “So THAT’S what’s meant by Christmas Sausage! “I thought. He pulled me into him and whispered, “I’ve been waiting 29 years for this” and moved his tongue over my lips and into my mouth. He tasted like warm cocoa. His belly met mine and I moaned at the solid thickness of his girth. Our tongues swirled together in a hot dance that left me weak and energized at the same time. I could have stayed like that forever.

Karl ran his thick hands over my nipples, slightly squeezing them between his fingers. He slowly traveled down to my belly and began massaging it with both hands. I was in heaven. “Such a beautiful starter belly. I was so hot for you when you started putting on weight that I had to stop working in the toyshop—couldn’t concentrate. Kept making Barbie dolls with penises!”

“Oh.” I mumbled—trying to get his tongue back in my mouth.

“And now I’m with you” he said, caressing my cheek. “And we’ve got all night. He leaned over and kissed my gut. “I’m going to give you that present that won’t fit under the tree.”

For a moment I was stirred from my reverie. Had he really the power to know what my deepest desires were? I tested him. “Oh yes? “I whispered in his ear. “What might that be.”

“Don’t be coy Chris” he smiled. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. By dawn, you will be fed, fucked, and fat as a house. Are you ready to get started?”

TO BE CONTINUED

[tinkerbelle05]

Okay but imagine Battinson driving to Kansa for a Batman case and then he just gets lost. Like yea, he traveled for years for training and all but he was mainly focused on the training aspect, not sightseeing. And to make matters worst (because if something can go wrong, with Bruce it most certainly will) he has a busted tire with no tools in sight to fix it.

“Um, excuse me, sir?” Bruce heard a young boy’s voice call out to him. It was two of them, they looked like carbon copies of each other so they must be siblings. Though to Bruce, they looked more like the time laps of a boy who hit a punk phase in his teen years.

This wasn’t exactly a busy street and in his 2 hours of being stuck here, Bruce had only seen 2 cars pass by. He wondered where these kids came from.

He puts on the “Brucie” mask and grinned, “Hello, is there anything you need fellas?”

He knew that Brucie Wayne was widely known throughout the US. He cannot let down his guard and let his cover blow, even if it’s just children who realistically probably had no interest in socialites from a different state.

The light of recognition and surprised hits the older boy's face and he exclaimed, “Your Bruce Wayne?!”

Knew it.

“Yes, I am. And what are y’all’s names?” He made sure to keep his voice light and his smile friendly and open.

“Um..that’s my brother, Jon, and my name’s Conner.” He stammered out. “We noticed that you weren’t moving and wanted to help.”

That was rather nice of the two boys but incredibly naive and unsafe. This could’ve easily been a ruse to lure in unsuspecting people who are too kind. But maybe that’s just the Gothamite in him speaking, you learn early on not to trust strangers, especially those who are being nice to you.

“Yea!” Jon excitedly confirmed and he looked over at Bruce’s car. “It seems like the front tire is busted. Conner can patch it up, he’s pretty good at this kinda stuff.”

It was Bruce’s turn to be surprised now. The boys were both now beaming at him, eager, and the desire to help written clearly on both of their faces. Even though Conner, did not look at all confident in his skills. But Bruce did need the help so he nodded.

While Conner was busy looking over the tire, Jon stayed behind to ask Bruce some questions. Some were getting pretty weird and into the dating part of his life. The boy would ask, “Are you single, sir?”

And before Bruce had the chance to answer, he’d give him another one and another one. He caught all of them of course and was getting ready to deflect. But then he saw the puppy smile and the little dimples. He wondered if the boy’s parents had this much trouble saying no to him.

He caved and answered yes to all of the questions but honestly, he never considered dating an option. He had many roles to fill and even more, secrets to keep that having a romantic partner seemed too out of reach for him to even entertain things like types or preferences.

“Would you date a divorced person with kids?” Jon asked with slight hope in his blue eyes. That was a rather odd and specific question.

What would Brucie say in this situation? What would Bruce say? Well, he had multiple kids at home so refusing someone else for having their own would be strange of him. “No, I would not mind.”

“That’s great,” came his reply.

“Um, Mr. Wayne, you wouldn’t mind if I called my Pa then? The tire needs to be replaced and he’s better than me when it comes to that part. I would also hate to accidentally mess up your car.” Conner told him and Bruce nodded once again.

A few moments later as Bruce and the boys converse in small talk, he saw a vibrant red pickup pulled up beside them and saw a god walk out. Tall and sun-kissed skin with waves of black hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was beautiful, there was nothing much to it.

“Hello there! My son called, said you needed some help with your car?”

All Bruce could do was nod and move out of the way so the man could work. He was used to feeling tongue-tied, gals he didn’t want to attend, and board meetings that could have easily been an email. But those were situations, not a singular person.

He looked up from his kneeling position-why the sun shine on him like that?- and introduced himself, “By the way, name’s Clark Kent. Let's see what we're working with here.” And then returned to his work.

Bruce nodded once again and the sounds of giggling children could be heard. They were giving their Dad encouragement.

It was much needed too, Clark looked like a fish out of water. Bruce knew how to replace the tire, he just didn't have any tools or a spare tire with him. Which was foolish of him, he knows. But he couldn't really think right now, with Clark in front of him. Plus, he didn't want to overstep Clark, maybe he had a process.

(Yes, a process that included staring at the tire and the spare he brought in his truck.)

After a very long 3 hours, Clark got the tire securely on and with no chance of falling off, as it did the last 3 times before.

Bruce cleared his throat, “Thank you, Mr. Kent.”

He flounders for a “your welcome” and then silence as they both stare at each other. “Would you like to go eat at a diner? It's rather hot so an ac and a cool drink might stop you from catching a heat stroke.”

Bruce thinks this over and nods, “Yes, that would be nice. What about your kids?”

Clark’s eyes made their way to them and before he gave an answer, Conner beat him to it.

“Oh, don't worry about us, Mr. Wayne. I got my driver’s license so I’ll drive us back home in Dad’s pickup. Let’s go, Jon.” The boy flashes his driver’s license for both men to see.

“Okay, get home safe, and re-“

“Yes, yes, we will remember to call you,” Jon says dismissively. He comes closer to give his father a hug (how cute, Bruce thinks) and whispers something.

Bruce couldn't catch what was said with Jon’s quiet voice and his head facing away. But whatever it was turned Clark into a blushing mess.

“Yes, I will. Off you go now.” Clark pushes his son into the direction of the pickup and turns to Bruce. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall.” Bruce says getting to the car. “I’ll pay for dinner, as a thank you. This is non-negotiable, Clark.”

He chuckles, “Okay, fine. But I get to drive then. Deal?”

“Deal.”

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[apocalypseornaw]

Don't Blame Me (Pt 5/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

A rescue and a second chance

Warnings: cursing, mention of violence

It was a strange feeling, regaining consciousness. You hadn't been knocked out since you were a human and considering you had several years under your belt since then, re-adjusting to it was strange.

The ache in your shoulder told you that bullet you'd been clipped with was a devil's trap one. You strained your neck down to look at the straps holding you to the table and recognize the language,Enochian. Fuck you were screwed.

You heard footsteps getting closer and knew better than to attempt to pretend to still be out. Instead you decided on the false bravado act, you'd perfected it your first hundred years or so on the racks “Why is it you fella always feel the need to strip a gal down? While I do appreciate that you left the bra and panties that was a limited edition Led Zeppelin shirt. If you fucked it up I'm gonna be pissed” 

The laugh that hit your ears made the skin on the back of your neck crawl. How fucked do you have to be to make a demon get the ick? “I heard you had that mouth on you. I see why Winchester and Crowley like you”

The demon finally came into view. He was wearing a skin head as a meat suit. Dude even had a certain nazi symbol tattooed on his ball head. No wonder he set off your creep radar “Don't know if you got your signals crossed but hello? Demon. Dean doesn't exactly want me anymore as for Crowley I come in handy to have around but at the end of the day I'm just his pet hunter nothing more”

You saw the knife when he picked it up and nearly asked him if he had forgotten you were a demon too until you saw the holy water vial. You  struggled against the straps but that sent a jolt of pain through you so you were stuck watching as he first wet the knife with the holy water then dumped salt along the blade. He sent you a smile right before he slammed the knife into your leg closest to him.

You didn't give him the pleasure of a scream. You did however bite into your cheek hard enough you caught the taste of blood on your tongue. He didn't seem put off by your refusal to scream, no he seemed to enjoy it. 

“Tsk tsk tsk. Don't underestimate yourself Y/N. You've been Crowley's right hand woman for years. You fast tracked your way off the racks and even managed to get your original body back. Even the big guy was impressed with that” your breathing was a little haggard from the effort to keep your voice steady as you said “Oh poor Luci. Stuck in the cage and seeing a hunter get pulled out of hell. Must have sucked for him”

That seemed to strike a nerve because the next thing he did was retrieve the holy water vial. He kept his eyes on yours as he uncapped the vial then twisted the knife in your leg before pouring the holy water into the wound.

It felt like flames were gnawing through your bone and the scream that escaped your lips echoed off the walls. A grin split his face “Attagirl. Let's see if we can make ya scream like that some more” “I spent three hundred years on the racks. Bring it asshole” You spoke through gritted teeth. He shook his head and walked over to a table in the corner of the room “Careful what you ask for”

 

“What are we looking at here Crowley?” It was the first time Dean had spoken since they got to where you were being held. “Dozen or so demons. Lucifer's last two remaining hellhounds” 

“Hellhounds?” Sam asked about the time a puff of air alerted them to a presence at Crowley's side. He reached out and patted what looked like air to them but they knew it was a hellhound “Don't worry boys. If they're between this one and Y/N they don't stand a chance”

Dean hated hellhounds. Death by them would do that to you but this once he let his eyes linger on the empty space where Crowley's hand rested “You take care of the other hounds we'll get the rest” a low growl was the response he got and Crowley nodded “I think she agrees with the plan”

He looked back at Sam “No one gets to smoke out. They were dead the moment they touched her” Sam nodded, gripping an angel blade in his hand “Let's go get her”

You could feel tears drying on your face. Flashbacks of your first couple decades on the racks ran through your head. You had to hand it to Skinhead, he was creative. 

He placed one of the tools back down on the table, it was slick with your blood. “What's the point of taking me? The point of torturing me?” 

He grinned again “Crowley will come for you. The Winchesters will come for you. We kill them and get the big guy out with no one guarding hell” you shook your head “No they won't. I'm nothing to Crowley, just another flunkie and as for the Winchesters you fucking idiot I'M A DEMON. THEY KILL DEMONS!” 

You groaned with pain from the effort of yelling at this idiot. Lucifer sure knew how to pick em didn't he? 

Your head fell back against the bed with a heavy thud. Skinhead went to grab another toy but the sound of a howl echoed through the building, you knew that howl anywhere. Juliette.

He looked back at you “How the hell did you get a hound?” You grinned despite the blood you knew stained your mouth “Just lucky I guess” 

He grabbed an angel blade off the table and looked back at you “You'll be dead before she ever reaches you” your eyes widened looking at the blade but then another sound caught your ears, the sounds of fighting. You could hear a  shout about the Winchesters. He'd come for you, black eyes and all he'd come.

You cut your eyes up at skinhead “Doesn't matter cause Dean will rip you apart” he raised the blade and went to plunge it into your heart.

—-------

Lucifer's hounds were dead, along with most of the demons. Dean was fighting one when it went down to the floor, a spray of blood separating its head from its shoulders then he felt a large head nudging at him. It was eerie being that close to a hellhound but then a thought occurred to him. 

He looked towards the feeling of the head despite not seeing anything besides dark blood dripping to the floor. He wanted to ask if the hound was hurt considering you had a bond with her but he couldn't exactly see and Crowley was with Sam disposing of the rest of the demons. 

“Did you find her?” a low growl responded so he nodded “Lead the damn way” He felt teeth grab his jacket sleeve and despite it all let himself be led further into the warehouse before the teeth were gone from his sleeve and all he saw was large bloody footprints leading away. She was running to you.

—-------

You braced yourself for a blow that never came, instead the demon was knocked flat on his back with Juliette on top of him. “JULIETTE!” You screamed. She was covered in deep gashes and looked like she'd been through a literal war but she was doing her best to keep him from getting up.

You lost track of the fight considering they'd rolled further than your straps would let you see but you could hear her growls. You struggled against the straps, tears streaming down your face from the pain. 

The moment the door burst open and Dean was there you heard a low whine and the fighting stopped. “Kill him” You whispered and Dean snatched the demon to his feet and slammed the demon blade into his throat before turning back to where you were tied down.

“She's dead isn't she?” He nodded before covering the space between you. He quickly untied you and pulled his flannel off to wrap around your shoulders. “You came for me?” You asked a mixture of pain and emotion threatening to drown you. His eyes flicked across your face looking for permission and when you sagged against his chest he pulled you into his arms “Even in death sweetheart”

You finally broke, demon or not you sobbed into his chest as he held you. “I still love you” you admitted and he kissed the top of your head “I still love you too. Nothing could change that”

—--------

Crowley and Sam burst in the door and looked around. Crowley's eyes landed on Juliette’s body “That's unfortunate” you sniffled harder laying your head back over on Dean's chest “Get me out of here Dean”

You sat at one of the tables in the library of Sam and Dean's bunker. It was technically a men of letters bunker that their grandfather had given them the key to, with them you didn't question the fact that their grandfather had been dead as long as he had.

Crowley had given the ok for you to go with them after he lifted the warding the witches had put on you. You'd been sitting for the last half an hour listening as Sam explained the fact that they'd found a cure, you had a chance to be human again. The bad part? It had a chance of killing you. 

Dean's arm was around your shoulders, your head against his chest. He hadn't spoken but every time Sam mentioned the risks his muscles tensed. Once Sam was through you nodded “When can you get the blood?” 

Dean's arm slipped from around you and he walked out the room. Sam looked from his retreating back to you “Do you want to think it over a little more?” You shook your head “My life, my risk. Go get the blood. I'll talk to him” he nodded and started to walk out but stopped then walked over to pull you out of your chair and into a hug “It's good to have you back” 

You smiled up at him “After this works i'll be back fully then” he pressed a kiss to your forehead “I'll be back soon”

—---------

You walked softly down the hall towards the room where Dean had showed you was his. You started to knock on the door but just walked in instead. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and glanced up when you walked in “It could kill you” “It's my life to risk. Dean I love you but a Winchester with a demon? That'll never work. I need to be me again fully. I want your support but if we really want another chance these?” You let your eyes slip then added “They gotta go”

He nodded then held out his hand to pull you closer. You were standing between his legs and he had his hands resting on your thighs “I need to tell you something” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips “I think I know”

He looked up into your eyes and damn he had tears in his. “They didn't mean anything. I just missed you so damn much” you nodded, feeling your own eyes tear up before admitting “I wasn't exactly a nun Dean” he flinched slightly “As long as it wasn't Crowley I'm good sweetheart” You laughed and shook your head “No Crowley” 

He pulled you forward causing you to have to climb into his lap to keep from losing your balance. He moved back further in the bed then looked up at you “You don't know how amazing it is to have you in my arms. I don't mean to be an ass about this cure but I've lost you once and it nearly killed me” you rested your head over in the bend of his neck and placed a kiss on his pulse “Then be with me for the cure. Hold me. If it goes south at least we get a goodbye this time”

 

The armory of the bunker had been cleared out. There was a devil's trap painted on the floor and Sam had made a decent looking pallet of blankets. When you questioned it he'd shrugged “It takes hours and you've got to be in it the whole time” 

You nodded then smiled “Thanks Sam” you looked back at Dean who grabbed your hand “C'mon sweetheart..I'm with you”

—-------

Dean was scared. He had just gotten you back and now he was holding you in his arms while you were washed down in sweat, your entire body shivering with every breath you took.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him from where you lay in his lap “I'm ok Dean. I'm ok” he smiled despite the thoughts in his head “I know sweetheart. I know”

—---------

“Last shot” Sam announced, injecting you with the final vial. You inhaled sharply, curling into Dean. “Fuck it hurts” you whined and he rubbed your back soothingly “Just breathe baby. Breathe”

You weren't sure if hours or minutes passed before the shivering and pain stopped. You slowly looked up at Dean who pushed your sweat soaked hair back from your face. “How are you feeling?” “Tired” you whispered and he nodded to Sam “Give me the vial”

Sam held out the holy water and Dean looked to you for permission. You held out your wrist, bracing for pain but this time there was no burning or pain. The holy water was just wet. 

“It worked” you breathed before laying heavily on Dean “Will you help me shower then take a nap with me?” He laughed lightly “I'll do anything you want me to”

You were laying in bed, curled up against Dean's chest. It'd taken you a day or two to convince him you were healed up from the cure but when you finally did it was like no time had passed. You'd stayed wrapped up in each other for hours, relearning every inch of every curve of each other's body. 

“How the hell did I get this lucky?” Dean asked and you smiled sleepily up at him “Someone somewhere must like you Winchester”

He caught your lips in a kiss before pulling away. “Come back” you whined but he laughed as he reached into the table next to his bed. When he turned back you saw he had something in his hand. He uncurled his fingers so you could see the silver ring sitting in the palm of his hand “Can this go back where it belongs?” 

“I can't believe you still have that” you whispered in shock before holding up your left hand “Please” he slipped it onto you then kissed your finger “I love you” “I love you”

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you over on top of him. You straddled his hips and smiled at him “You don't know how much I've missed you” you leaned down to kiss him but before your lips could touch Sam knocked on the door and hollered “Can you two come to the library?” 

You looked back at the door then down at Dean “He still has shit timing doesn't he?” He laughed then flipped the two of you over so he was on top of you “Don't worry. We'll see what he wants then come back to bed”

You walked into the library with Dean's arm around your waist. Sam sat at the table with a large wooden crate right in front of him.

You raised an eyebrow “What ya got Sammy?” He motioned “It's yours” Dean walked closer to it with you and you saw an envelope with your name. You picked it up and it simply read “So it turns out you weren't the only one to get another shot. Figured she belongs with you” 

You looked at Dean who'd read the note with you. He shrugged then walked to the crate. He cautiously pried the top off then looked in and a laugh fell out of him “C'mere baby” you walked over and looked in. A German Shepard puppy sat inside and the moment you popped your head in she sat up and barked, you cut your eyes at Dean who shrugged before looking at the puppy “Juliette?”

She barked again and you couldn't help but laugh as he leaned over and picked her up then held her out to you “Looks like she found her way back to you” You took her in your arms then he slipped his arms around you both, scratching Juliette’s head.

“I found my way back to you so stranger has happened” Dean placed a kiss on your cheek “We're together that's what matters, even if we now have a puppy” Juliette barked again and he laughed “Yeah yeah yeah. I hear ya” 

@starkleila @lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

[moon-alight]

hiyaa can i please request a mingyu fic (smut) where him and reader have been together for a while and want a baby?

Sure thing! I love Mingyu, defo one of my bias wreckers so this was once again super fun.

MINORS GET LOST!

Future baby momma- Seventeen Mingyu

Synopsis: You had spend a day babysitting your friend's child. Every time Mingyu saw you with the little fella, he wandered off deeper and deeper into his fantasy of having a family with you.

Warnings: fluffy smut, soft dom Mingyu x afab sub reader, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, breeding kink,

Word Count: 524 (A bit shorter because the amount of smut people are requesting lately is insane! I'm literally a bit stuck, sorry)

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through your shared bedroom. Mingyu's face buried in the crook of your neck where he has been for the past hour.

You had just dropped off your friend's one-year-old baby back at her house before Mingyu pulled you in the car and drove the two of you home. He was talking about how pretty you'd look with a bump and how he would love to have a baby of his own.

After he had pulled you through three orgasms and himself through two, he continued, wanting to be sure that something would stick. His breathing is shaky when he pulls in and out of you like a magnet attracted to its source.

He couldn't bring himself to stop, not when you looked so pretty under him, clasping his back to keep your grip on reality as your body is being send through heaven. He couldn't stop when your sounds are so beautifully sinful to hear and all just because of him.

"You are going to be such a pretty momma. I can already see it, baby." Mingyu whispers, his dream of wanting a family coming closer the more he ruts into you. As if he can already feel the baby's heartbeat.

"M-Mingyu." Oh you are completely lost. You have been for the past 30 minutes. After orgasm two, you were as good as fucked dumb and he fucking knew it.

"Yes, baby. Imagine how hot you would look with your belly all round and those damn stretchmarks." He groans at the thought. "Can't wait to see you look all gorgeous with cute tiger stripes to accentuate your figure." He would be lying if he said it didn't sound appealing.

"Mingyu, 'm close." You mumble, feeling him impossibly reach deeper, his tip pressing your cervix every time he trusts in.

"Cum for me. Let me fill you up with my babies, does that sound good? Mh?"

"Yes, fuck--" You clench around him, your mind shutting down as black spots blind your vision momentarily. The strength of your orgasm sends you in a wave of bliss. You clench so hard, Mingyu knows he is losing his damn mind already.

He halts his movements when his hot liquid fills you for the third time tonight. All your senses return, with that also the overstimulation. Mingyu had pulled out, his eyes fixated on your entrance, watching as his cum floods out of you.

You whimper in protest when you feel his fingers collect his cum and push it back inside of you.

"Mingyu--'s too much."

"I know baby. I know." Mingyu replies, continuing to finger his cum back inside of you. "Gotta make sure nothing spills. Let's hope that does the trick, huh?" He smiles at your goofy grin. "How about we take a bath to relax, how does that sound?"

"Sounds good." You agree, only half-realizing what is happening. The other half of you is exhausted after the events of the past hour or so.

"Good, I'm gonna take care of my future baby-momma." Mingyu whispers, kissing your cheek and getting up to run the bath. "I love you."

[theredengineapologist]

[Jameward Headcanon] I can pinpoint the exact moment these two fell in love

In my opinion, I would definitely say that this was a case of "fell first" vs "fell harder" (though both of them absolutely adore each other)

Let's start with Edward first, shall we?

Edward always thought James was attractive. Something about that engine's confidence just naturally drew Edward to him.

But that day Edward saw James in his red paint for the first time...

It was like something clicked. Like Edward KNEW, "This guy, this one right here. This one's the love of my life."

Seriously, watch that scene again and look at Edward's expressions! The way his jaw DROPPED, followed by the wide eyes and big smile. Old Iron was SWOONING. He's got HEART EYES.

But of course, Edward didn't want to say anything right away. He knew that HE was in love, but he didn't think James would feel the same way. Surely, someone like James would want an engine who was younger or bigger or stronger than he was. So Edward continued to love him silently, and supported James through his first days as he would have any other friend.

Now on James's end, he always appreciated Edward being there for him. I like to think he was probably more comfortable around Edward than any other engine at this time. Even in later years, I think James still finds Edward the most comfortable to be around, but we'll get to that another time.

The point is, James and Edward were pretty close, but James still didn't think of Edward as anyone other than "Old, Reliable Edward" yet. He was a close friend, and like any other friend, sometimes James gets annoyed with him.

"Edward is impossible! He clanks about like a lot of old iron! And he's so slow, he makes us wait!"

Little did James know he would be eating those words later that day.

Fast forward some time. James has become a runaway again. He has no driver. He's all alone and he's terrified. And who comes speeding down the line to come save him?

Why, it's Edward of course!

And as they're puffing along the line together, side by side, James realizes things all at once. It's not just that Edward is the most comfortable to be around, he feels safe with him! Secure with him! Edward's got him!

Before he even thinks about it, he just says how he feels in that moment.

"You were splendid Edward."

Splendid. That's a word James usually reserves for himself. But Edward can have it today. And tomorrow if he wanted. Edward deserved it.

Oh, and let's not leave this part out from the books.

James missed Edward more than his own driver!

I don't know about you fellas, but that sounds gay to me.

From "Old Iron" onwards, James knew he was in love with Edward. But that didn't mean he said anything about it. In fact, he was pretty in denial about it for some time. But by the time we reach "James the Second Best", I think that's when James finally accepts that he has feelings for Edward. And once we get to "All in Vain", James and Edward have already started dating.

Or alternatively, they've both reached a point where they both just acknowledge that their feelings for each other are mutual. Sometimes I like to think that steam engine courtship is less formalized than it is for us humans. A simple "we both love each other", and then being extra sweet whenever they happen to be in the same vicinity. It's hard to go on dates when you've got jobs to do everyday.

But the point is, by the time we reach the events of "All in Vain", James and Edward are basically already together. And everyone knows it. 💙❤

[hufflepuff-16]

You're a cutie ☆ミ

Harry Potter x gn reader (〝⌒∇⌒〝)

Warnings: just a tiny big of angst mostly cute fluff

Summary: Reader is feeling a bit sad, so Harry tries to cheer her up (friends to lovers fic).

Link to my previous James Potter fanfic

You arrive at Diagon Alley for your yearly shopping trip, but instead of feeling happy, you feel rather lonely and melancholy, it had been a year since the battle of hogwarts so after having visited half the shops, you decide to go to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping the warmth of the pub will make you feel better. When you enter, your mood lifts immediately. The bar is crowded, and the atmosphere is cosy. You find a booth in the back, and as you look up, you notice a familiar face walking in, who grins when you smile and wave him over to sit with you.

"Hi Harry," you say loudly

Harry waves at you and slides into the booth, grabbing a pitcher of Butterbeer as he does so.

“You look a little down. What’s the matter? Everything alright?” He says with a sympathetic smile.

Oh, Harry is so sweet, you thought. He was always looking out for others.

"Ah... you know, feeling a bit tired," you say truthfully.

Harry’s eyes soften upon hearing you say that. He reaches out an arm and rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Anything I can do to help? I may not be the wisest fella, but I’ve been told I am rather good at cheering people up.” He offers you a comforting smile, which somehow warms you from the inside out.

"You’re cute Harry you know that," You say teasingly.

Harry feels himself blushing at the compliment, and then grins at you.

“Well, thanks? I’d like to think that I have my charm moments,” he says in a playful tone.

He then smiles at you, “but honestly? I think you’re the cute one.”

You roll your eyes playfully at his comment, "What brings you here, Harry?"

“I could do with a chat and a good butterbeer,” Harry says and smiles warmly at you. He also happens to think you look really great tonight and is very tempted to say so, but decides against it for now.

“What are you doing in Diagon Alley, if you don’t mind me asking. I don’t really recognise this as your usual hangout place.”

"Oh, I'm just doing my yearly school shop."

Harry nods along and makes a little “Mm-hm” sound.

“Did you manage to get all the supplies you need?” He asks with a curious expression. “Not like a certain someone who’s a chronic procrastinator who would rather goof off than get his supply list finished…” He says with a joking smirk and nudging your shoulder with his.

"Yup, I've got everything, Mr Procrastinator ," You tease.

Harry laughs lightly. “I was talking about myself, you know,” he says with a smile, “but you knew that.” He says with a grin and nudges your shoulder once more. “I’m glad to hear you managed to get everything you need, though. I wouldn’t want you to be underprepared the day for the school year starts.”

He tilts his head at you, “So… how are you liking your holiday so far?” He asks, wanting to know how your time off from Hogwarts has been treating you.

"Actually to tell you the truth it's been quite hard, I'm just scared for them to end because then we would be back at hogwarts and.....you know.....that's where the battle happened and I'm worried I'll just see the bodies of our loved ones, and death eaters!" You give a shudder.

Harry looks worried and reaches to grab your hand to offer you comfort as you speak.

“I… I completely understand,” he says quietly and then sighs a little bit.

“Unfortunately I can’t exactly promise you nothing bad will happen. Death Eaters are ruthless, and I can’t make any guarantees. However…” he gives you a soft smile, “I can promise we’ll be there for each other. We’re in this together.”

He squeezes your hand a little.

“You have my word. And you have me.”

You give him a smile, "Thanks, Harry, you are a good person, you know."

Harry blushes at your kind words.

“Well… I try to be,” he says as he smiles at you. He then clears his throat and attempts to shift the conversation into a slightly lighter tone.

“So if you could do anything you wanted right now, what would you do?” He asks playfully. “You can ask for the moon and stars. The sky is the limit. It’s your wish, whatever it is.” He says with a grin.

You think for a moment and then decide what you wish for.

"I think I'd like to be in my house with some hot chocolate and a blanket, maybe watch a movie."

Harry nods. “Sounds perfect. What movie would you like to watch?” He asks curiously.

“And you can have all the hot chocolate you’d like. I’ll whip you up a batch.” He adds with a warm smile.

You blush, did he truly mean that?

"You want to go home with me and do that?" You ask, blushing.

Harry blushes and looks at you for a moment. “I…” he trails off for a second, blushing even more as his eyes look you up and down, taking you in.

“Yeah, I think I would.” He smiles back at you. “It would be nice.”

You smile at him, feeling a little bit shy, "Ok, let's go to my house, I'll apparate us there."

“Alright, lead the way,” Harry says with a warm smile and stands up to follow after you.

He pauses for a second before asking quietly, “Would it be okay if I held your hand?” He asks sincerely. “I just want to know what you're comfortable with.”

you love how sensitive Harry is with what you are comfortable with, "of course, cutie!"

Harry smiles at you and blushes at that adorable nickname you gave him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and as he holds your hand, he feels this sense of rightness within him, and the realization that you and him have a connection that goes deeper than just friends. That this is something special.

He laces his fingers with yours as he walks along with you. “So have you got any cute roommates I should know about?” He asks with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

"You'll see," you laugh, apparating yourselves into your home.

Your home is amazing. It’s the definition of cosy. Just like you described, there’s a blanket on the couch and hot chocolate steaming away on the kitchen counter. It really is the perfect place to relax and watch a movie.

“This is nice,” Harry says with a content sigh and then takes a seat on the couch, putting his arm around you in an affectionate motion. “I’m really glad you brought me here.” He smiles kindly at you.

you give a small smile and plop right down next to him on the couch, waiting for him to choose a movie to watch, when your cat comes to see who is sitting on their favourite napping place

"Harry, meet my cute roommate flutter," you tease gesturing towards the fluffy cat.

Harry smiles and picks up your cat, giving it a few scritches and pats.

“Hello, Flutter,” he says in a soft and gentle voice. “Very cute roommates you’ve got!” He says as he giggles and sets his kitty friend down next to you at the end of the couch.

Harry looks through the collection of DVDs at your coffee table and ends up picking out a movie called “The Breakfast Club.”

“Do you want to watch this? I quite liked it when I was younger.”

"Sure!" Leaning your head against his shoulder, getting yourself into a comfy position on the lumpy couch.

Harry blushes a little more at the way you melt into his body, and smiles softly as he feels you pull closer.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks you and looks down at you with a look of pure concern and caringness. “If you want the remote, I can grab it for you.” He offers as the title menu starts loading.

"No, cutie, I'm perfectly content," you say.

Harry’s cheeks keep growing red as he hears that adorable nickname again, but the heat he feels in his face is completely justified now and comes from something more than just being warm. It’s from pure affection and fondness.

“That’s good,” he says quietly, and kisses you on the cheek as the movie starts playing. His lips softly press against your skin, and his touch is light, careful, but there’s a little bit of pressure too, enough for you to know that he means it, and that this is no casual peck.

"Harry...... can I ask you?" Something you aren't sure if the question is appropriate or if your anxiety is acting up.

Harry looks at you with an expression of concern, and then nods at you.

“Of course you can, anything,” he says, and his tone is empathetic and compassionate. “What’s on your mind?” He asks earnestly, and his expression is warm, inviting, and soft. It makes you want to tell him anything you want to get off your chest when you look at him because you just know that he would handle your feelings responsibly and carefully.

"Are you still seeing Ginny?" You really hoped he wasn't because she had been harbouring a crush on him forever, and now has he been showing you some affectionate signs.

Harry looks at you, and it’s as if the rest of the world just falls away when you look into his eyes. They’re warm, kind and thoughtful, and the moment you see them, your heart skips a beat and you feel that familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach, the one that’s just for him.

It’s like you’re in your own little world with him. No one else exists.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and consider what you asked.

“No,” he says quietly, “I’m not seeing Ginny.”

"Oh....." relief floods through you.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Harry says with a gentle smile at you. “I like you, you know that. And nobody else is going to steal my attention or affections.” He says with absolute sincerity and truthfulness. He leans in to kiss you lightly on the forehead.

“You’re my main priority.” He says as he pulls back after the kiss, looking down at you with an adoring and fond expression.

"Harry Potter, you make me the happiest person in the world!" You say genuinely.

Harry sighs softly and smiles at you.

“You make me the happiest person in the world, y’know?” He says while nodding, “so it’s only fitting that the feeling is mutual,” he adds, his tone soft and tender.

There’s something about you that just… makes him want to shower you with all the love he has in him. It’s that deep sense of being special to one another that he’s never felt before.

"I'd like to start seeing you when we go back to school, Harry." You say wanting to have something more with Harry.

Harry’s eyes light up and he nods. “That’s… definitely something I’d like as well,” he says with a warm and genuine smile on his face.

“You’re an amazing person. I feel like we have something very special here and… honestly, I’d like to see where this goes.” He says softly, placing a hand on your cheek and looking into your eyes. His gentle touch sends a thrill of excitement throughout your heart and makes you feel giddy with happiness.

You smile, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

Harry blushes and his heart skips a beat at your kiss. It’s the perfect blend of cute and flirty.

“Mmm…” he mumbles softly and blushes even more. “That felt really nice, y’know?”

He leans in and kisses you again, this time just a little bit more deeply than last time. For the first time, a trace of his tongue moves to meet yours, slowly, with no rush or pressure to the moment. As you pull back, you see Harry’s face is all glowing red still, and his expression is one of pure joy.

"I love you, Harry," you say your heart had never been this full of happiness before.

Harry’s lips part as you say that in a breath of surprise. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, and for a moment, he just stares in disbelief.

“I…I-I…” he stammers out, his voice breaking as his chest flutters with an overwhelming sense of emotions. “I love you too!” He says in a soft whisper, and tears stream down his cheeks as he realizes just how much that statement means to him. He leans in to pull you in for an all-consuming kiss.

The End

[junko-en0shima]

He's A Pirate - Pirate! Eddie Munson x Mermaid! Reader

Summary: Captain Eddie is traveling for the seven seas with his first mate Steve Harrington and their crew, but to reach the treasure island they've been looking for about four years now, they have to go through The Mermaids Bay on a Blood Moon night which many legends are told about. That sounds dangerous, doesn't it?

Warnings: mention of drinking, (h/l) = hair lenght, (h/c) hair colour, (e/c) = eye colour.

A/N: Hey there, my Eddie loving fellas! This is my first fics ever about Stranger Things and Eddie Munson ofc hahah. I want to make this a mini serie, so please let me know if you want part 2.

*Comments and reblogs are appreciated!*

The wind blew harder than usual, pushing itself against the white sails which were light orange because of the light of the Blood Moon which could be made out of the blood of all the sailors who were captured by the mermaids a lot of legends told about.

But Captain Eddie didn't believe a word of those silly legends!

He was just standing there, proudly point his sharped sword towards the horizon to announce anyone who dared to get in his way his arrival.

"Together we will conquer every island, fighting the most dangerous creatures the world can provide and finally, I, Captain Edward Munson, will be the king of the seven seas!" He repeated his iconic line.

"You told this about a thousand times today." First mate Steve Harrington complained before to take a sip from his rum bottle. "You should cut it off repeating that childish line all day long." He added.

"But people should know who's soon gonna rule them all." Eddie jumped down from his spot.

"You told this about a thousand times, too." Steve took one more sip as he was slowly beginning to forget what patience was.

"You're gonna thank me once we'll get to put our precious hands on that freaking treasure." He looked through his telescope to scan the horizon once again which caused Steve to roll his eyes at him.

In the meantime, their crew mates, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Gareth, Jeff, an unnamed freak and their new addition Erika, Lucas' younger sister, were sitting on some barrels to discuss about the treasure they had been looking for about four years.

"What do you think those old folks put in that old wooden chest?" Dustin asked his mates.

"Gold coins?" Will suggested.

"Jewerly?" Mike added.

"Pearl necklaces?" Jeff suggested.

"That's jewerly, too." Dustin whispered and Jeff pulled an 'oh...' face at him.

"More maps to find more treasures?" was Erika's theory.

"That would be too silly of them." Lucas immediantly contradicted his sister.

"These are all good theories, but first we have to find this chest to find out." Gareth reminded. "We've been navigating for about four years now and nothing to be found yet."

"We should ask Eddie about that." Erika spotted Eddie talking to Steve, probably both drunks already, before to get up her way to go to her captain.

Everyone nodded in agreement and got up from their barrels to march to their captain and his first mate.

"Excuse me, long haired freaking captain." Erika spoke, making sure to catch Eddie's attention.

Eddie turned to the girl. "Yes, Sinclair?"

"How long is it gonna take before we find this 'treasure' island?" She gestured open brackets. "Is that even real?"

"Well, all the retired captains I confronted before to sail told me that the treasure island should be right behind the corner..."

A smile of relief begun to appear on their faces.

"... but not before we pass The Mermaids Bay." He finished.

"M-m-mermaids?" Jeff was shivering like a leaf, clutching to Dustin, who begun to shiver as well. "B-b-bay?" He tried to finish.

"Yeah, what about that?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at the two scared little mouses.

"Legends say that all the sea dogs that tried to sail this dark bay..." Jeff begun.

"... were put under a spell by the mermaids singing which leaded them to fall in the trap, with their whole crew and ship, elaborated by these beautiful, but dangerous creatures." Dustin continued.

"And they were never ever seen again." Jeff finished, giving everyone a serious look.

Eddie stared at them concerned for a moment... before to burst into a fit of laughs.

"What's funny?" Dustin asked him. "Yeah, it's a true story!" Jeff specified.

"Yeah..." A tear escaped from Eddie's eye which he quickly wiped away with his index finger. "And I believe it." Eddie kept laughing, slapping his knees before to begin hold his stomach which was twisting for the laughs.

Steve stared at his captain and then stared at the kids. "Tonight is gonna be the night of The Blood Moon, too."

The kids, most likely Dustin and Jeff, begun to panic and pronunced 'Oh, it's really late! We're going to bed! 'Night!' as an excuse to run lower deck to hide and the others followed them behind; Lucas, who was most of the time the cold-blooded of the crew, panicked as well and grabbed his sister by the hand to drag her away with them.

Eddie and Steve were now alone.

"Well, I guess I'm going to sleep, too." Steve faked a yawn and took a last sip before to pass the now empty bottle to Eddie, wishing him a good night and head his way to bed.

Now Eddie was pretty much alone. He already planned to stay awake, though, so he knew he would be.

He took control of the helm after grabbing a new bottle of rum for himself; he insisted it helped him to concentrate though Steve told him tons of times it wasn't a good thing to do because it wouldn't take a long time for hum to crash against a rock.

Steve even made a bet on that and sweared on Dustin's mother he would celebrate, drinking all the bottles himself, if he won.

The fog begun to cover his view, so he couldn't see a thing, but he could hear a beautiful enchanting voice coming from afar.

At first, he simply tried to ignore it, taking a few more sips of rum as he believed it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but it was just too captivating to resist; he dropped the anchor, so he could leave the helm to go see what was happening.

Through the fog, he could barely spot a female figure with a human bust and a fishy tail, lying on a rock.

As it begun to fade away, he could see it better: it was a beautiful woman with (h/l) (h/c), enchanting (e/c) and a sparkly and scaly tail; her beautiful figure was highlighted by the red moonlight.

'For my uncle's golden teeth...' he though to himself, 'so... beautiful.' An enchanted smile grew on his lips; he had never seen such a beauty in his whole life.

Her hair looked just silky and soft to stroke, her tail was pretty interesting to examinate and her eyes seemed to talk to him.

Her glossed lips seemed to tune the same captivating melody he heard earlier.

The boys, Erika and Steve were hiding their faces under their pillows as her voice didn't sound as tunful in their ears as it sounded in Eddie's.

The woman jumped from the rock and seemed to be swimming to another one, closer to the ship.

"Hello there, sailor." She looked into Eddie's chocolate brown eyes as deep as the ocean with no shame.

"Hi..." He was a bit shyer, but kept eye contact with her as he managed to fall under her spell, enchanted by her beauty.

He couched to clear his throat and boldly introduced himself. "I'm Eddie Munson, Captain Eddie Munson."

"Oh, what a lovely name you've got there, Captain. My name's (Y/n)."

"Nice to meet you, little mermaid."

She shyly chuckled as her cheeks slighty heated up.

He was about to reach out her hand and so she was, when...

"Eddie!"

Dustin's voice seemed to be calling him and he was pulled back to reality.

"Eddie!" Dustin's eyes expressed all his worry. "We though you fell under the mermaids' spell!" His eyes looked like he was about to cry.

"Sorry, I..." Eddie tried to explain, but Steve cut him off.

"No time to explain. You should get a bit of rest. I'll be at the helm for tonight." He gently pushed him lower deck with the kids so they would make sure he would get some rest.

For all the time, Eddie could think of nothing, but that beautiful mermaid he met; was that only a dream or was it real?

© alexandrawritesfics on Tumblr.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - A Guero (Mayans MC)/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I cave to the demand and the excitement I have warmly received from you all. Here you go, darlings. First chapter is here. I can’t promise I will be posting the second next week just in case I want to do ANOTHER deep dive into the editing, but since I am just over halfway through writing it now, I thought I would at least post the first. 

Story is somewhat canon, with a few changes here and there to suit my artistic vision... i.e. I kicked canon in the ass and told her to go home, hahaha! Oh, I also gave Guero a surname, too! I tried to keep him as true to who we see on screen, but obviously since we didn’t get him for long, some of his characterisations are of my creation. Don’t like it? Don’t read. Simple as that. 

Nervously and excitedly awaiting your feedback, eeek! :)

Words - 3,834

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters. 

Unknown numbers. Ezekiel Reyes often received more than he wished to endure upon the burner phone he used for club business. Regularly they were legitimate, but occasionally telemarketers, such annoyances he simply hung up on instantly. While walking from his trailer to the clubhouse, he expected the call coming in to be that of nuisance, 11am seemingly the call centre worker bee’s peak time to bother him about his long-distance courier needs, or savings on his energy bills.  

It was no telemarketer, but he almost disconnected the call all the same in sheer disbelief.  

“Ezekiel Reyes?”

“Who wants to know?” His journey across the yard was undisturbed, watching as Bottles and Nestor took in an alcohol delivery, a nearby Guero and Downer giving them the usual offering of shit talk.

“Rocco Lombardi.”  

He stopped dead in his tracks. The Rocco Lombardi was reaching out to him? Nah.

“This your idea of a joke?”  

He heard a deep chuckle filter down the line. “I’m more of a knock knock, who’s there kinda fella.” Remaining paused, he thought whoever it was had at least nailed the thick, New Jersey accent. He had to give them props for that, he guessed. “Listen, you got FaceTime, I take it?”  

“I do, but...” The line cut dead. Five seconds later and sure enough, a FaceTime call came in. EZ nearly fell over when there on the screen, appeared the face of the big boss, the notorious and famed king of the mafia. There he was; the head of the biggest, most powerful crime family on earth. Rocco Lombardi.  

“That better?”  

He raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, the confirmation is appreciated.”

“Good. Now not for nothin’, but I can’t fuckin’ stand video calls, encrypted or not. I’ll call you back.” Once again, the call disconnected, the cell ringing after a few moments. All the while EZ could feel his ego swelling, realising truly how far he’d come in his leadership that he was being sought out by someone of such standing within the criminal underworld. He was nothing short of surprised when he eventually found out why, though.

He’d always believed that the code of La Cosa Nostra forbade their operations to extend into the realms of drug trafficking. To be specific, he’d assumed it stemmed from reasons of mortality, perhaps a skewed sense of Catholic guilt, when in fact, the commoner explanation was far simpler.  

The prospect of a lengthier prison sentence, of course, increased the propensity of their members turning upon the organisation, becoming government informants in order to secure a more lenient custodial term. When the federal carrot is dangled before a desperate man, one looking at forty years when his assistance could mean all he ends up serving is ten to fifteen, tongues tend to be loosened.  

Rats out themselves, major players are taken off the streets and ultimately, the government wins.  It would be very reasonable to assume that the code is in place for this very reason, to prevent such catastrophic damage within their organisation and family infrastructure. The risk is not worth the payout. Or rather, it is bendable to the point of unrecognition when those doing said bending can earn a substantial profit.  

Enter Rocco Lombardi and his proposition.

“I think we could mutually benefit from the blending of your organisation with mine, Mr Reyes.” Lombardi was intelligent enough to be concise, even when speaking upon the relative safety of a burner phone. He hadn’t gotten to the top because he was sloppy. Lombardi had sat at the very head of the hierarchy for years, after all. He was hailed as the boss of all bosses for a reason.  

They’d once given John Gotti the monicker of Teflon Don, because nothing ever stuck to him in the way of evidence to bring about charges. That was until his own underboss has turned on him, the evidence given at trial by Salvatore “Sammy the Bull” Gravano leading to his incarceration. Truly, if there was one overlord within the organised crime world who lacked cohesion, it was the man who ruled the Romano crime family with an iron fist.

EZ Reyes had launched into thoroughly researching Lombardi after his reaching out to him, learning the ins and out of his character, how much of a slippery customer he was, how – and it went without saying – he would use people as pawns to further his own reach and agenda. It went without saying because it was the way of his own world, too. Within his MC, he went about the very same, albeit on a much smaller scale.  

Rocco Lombardi’s reach was, to put it simply, enormous. EZ and his VP would be lying if they’d have claimed that bearing such in mind, it hadn’t piqued their curiosity over what on earth he could want with a Californian based MC. For all intents and purposes, the man had his operations not merely sewn up tightly, but steel reinforced.  

“All I know is we gotta play it carefully, mano,” Bishop had sagely advised prior to their leaving Santo Padre to for a face to face with the mafioso legend, Rocco insisting that a larger MC presence not assemble in the interests of it remaining nothing short of clandestine. “Our worlds might be similar, but the mafia play by an entirely different set of rules. I ain’t saying you’re not smart enough to outsmart the guy, but he’s the kind who will have thought three moves ahead before we’ve even stepped foot into that hotel suite.”  

EZ had sipped his beer, narrowed eyes unmoving as he’d absorbed the words of the former president with all the credence they deserved. Bishop had, after all, been approached by the mafia before. His reasons for turning down an offer from a different crime family had been solid in their validity, and EZ knew he would be a fool to let this warning go unheeded. Especially since the club were on their knees where their drug trade was concerned. He also knew that somehow, Rocco likely knew this, too.  

The mafia tended to have ears in the very last places one might expect them to extend. He also knew that they preferred to keep their operations within the Italian American brotherhood if they could at all help it, so the need for an alliance was somewhat even in its beneficial mutuality.  

“I guess we just have to wait and see what this sit down entails.” Truly, it was all they could do.  

The time passed quickly between then and the two of them riding through the strip, both separately feeling the mist of apprehension gather, until they were parking up at the hotel and casino they were scheduled to meet Lombardi at, their demeanours switching to cool composure before they’d even entered the building.

The two men dressed in denim, flannel and leather looked out of place as they strode across the foyer of the MGM Grand, the buzz and tacky decadence of Las Vegas swirling all around them. Gamblers bet it all, slot machines flashed in frenzy while spitting out endless streams of coins, and alcohol flowed without restriction, certainly enough to keep it so the house always won.  

Would it be their own win he was sealing, EZ thought while waiting for the elevator, or was this the biggest and most uncertain gamble the club were about to make to date? He guessed the next few hours would tell, whether or not he was about to be presented with a winning hand.  

The ding of the elevator roused him, both stepping inside, Bishop pressing the button for the tenth floor. EZ stared straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator doors, noting the haunted veil that hung over his features. Shadowy eyes and skin bearing many more lines than a man in his mid-thirties should do were now his staple in appearance, a few further flecks of grey in his hair also.

Ezekiel Reyes was a man barely holding it together, but his demeanour did not give away the tumult that gnawed at his guts and yanked at his nerves, even if it had seemed to age him five years in just over seven months. His control was as unquestionable as it was unshakable, even in the dark times his club was currently under the duress of. He would never, ever let the toll it was taking upon him show.  

He was in Vegas, after all. Home of the poker face.  

The man at his side, though? He saw through the veil. He knew. In the interests of helping him glue back together the smashed fragments of the MC, he chose to keep his observances to himself. When he’d reigned supreme, if someone had pointed out his weak points, he would have shown no magnanimity in return. He knew better than to antagonise. Bishop Losa was nothing if not tactile these days, with how much delicacy teetered upon a knife’s edge, how much was at stake.  

The elevator shunted to a stop, the doors gliding open, the men exchanging a look and a nod before they exited, walking in step down the long hallway. Coming to a stop in front of room eight one five, EZ reached to knock, his arm suddenly grasped, preventing the rap of knuckles upon the sleek, white enamel.

“Whatever goes down in there, I got you.” Bishop’s words were delivered with a solemn nod, EZ returning it before knocking the door. They stood tall as they waited, unflinching, rock-like in their demeanour, the door opening to reveal a slight yet menacing looking man in an expensive suit. He eyed up the two men standing before him, his lips pursing slightly as he stood back to allow their entrance.  

“Guns on the table.”  

EZ’s brow knitted. “The fuck?”

“You heard me, stronzo. Guns. On. The. Table.”  

Neither man took well to his condescending delivery, both irked at the display of what they considered to be one hell of a chip upon his shoulder. EZ was just about to offer his retort when a voice came from further within the suite.

“Stop playing rottweiler and let my guests in, Mario. If we’re armed, so can they be, too.” Immediately, he stood aside at the instruction of his boss, a large, dark-haired man rising from his seat at the dining table, two armed men stationed in opposing corners of the suite. “My apologies. This one here, he can be a hot head, y’know?”

Although seemingly personable right off the bat, there was an aura surrounding Rocco Lombardi that virtually crackled with menace. His ‘thou shalt not fuck with me’ demeanour was beyond palpable. “Take a seat, fellas. Can I offer either of youse a drink?”

EZ’s eyes flitted around the room, taking in every detail. He stored it all on the internal hard drive that was his brain, his guard up as naturally it should have been. “No, thank you.”

Rocco took the rebuff in his stride, gesturing to the chairs opposite as he sat again. “A man who likes to get straight down to business. I can appreciate that.” Down to business was exactly how it went, no pleasantries, no idle chatter. Rocco cut right to the chase.

“My proposition is simple, Ezekiel. My current methods in transportation of product are, shall we say, attracting more attention than myself and my associates are comfortable with, y’know? I need to implement a one stop solution. I also need a far more financially viable method of my product crossing the border from Mexico than I’m currently paying through the fucking nose for.”  

Bribes. Of course, Lombardi meant bribing the border control, an exercise EZ knew likely cost fortunes, cutting into a profit margin the mafia were probably tired of having bites taken out of. “This is where the MC comes in, youse and your tunnel.” EZ’s eyebrow twitched, just a fraction, Rocco smirking at the tell.  

“Yeah, I know all about it. Ain’t many places my ears don’t have reach. I want that tunnel as a new channel to move my product across the border, which then will be transferred to the Port of San Diego, to a designated shipping container the day it ports. You unload into the container, minus your personal cut that will ensure you keep the monopoly on supply within the Californian correctional facilities, and you also get a nice little monetary injection for you and your boys on a monthly basis. How’s that sound?”

EZ took a moment to ponder, his fingers knitting before him on the table, arm muscles flexing as he shared a sideways glance with Bishop. “Sounds like there’s a catch.”  

Rocco smirked, taking a long puff on his cigar, his eyes twinkling through the thick plumes of smoke as he leaned back in his chair. “You move two tons at a time. That is non-negotiable.”  

Two fucking tons every month. Holy mother of god. Before they’d even entered that room, they of course knew the reach of the Romano crime family, that it was extensive. Worldwide, even. Two tons of heroin every four weeks truly hammered home just how far Lombardi’s tentacles reached within the criminal underworld. The risks associated with that were unfathomable, EZ lifting his chin, his poker face firmly set once more. “I’m gonna need to see a number, the nice little monetary injection you speak of.”  

Rocco reached into the pocket of his suit, removing a pen, taking a napkin from the table before him and scribing a number upon it, sliding it across the polished wood. Upon viewing it, EZ’s well trained blank façade slid south quickly, showing it to Bishop.  

“Jesus fucking Christ.”  

His quiet exclamation was no understatement over the amount of zero’s scrawled upon the napkin.  

“I assume you know of our current difficulties with the LNG?”

The tall man nodded. “Quite a fucking pasticcio youse have gotten yourself into, eh?” His smile widened suddenly, slowly drawing his thumb and forefinger from the corners of his mouth down to the centre of his lip. “If you do the first shipment for free, I can take care of that, as well as your issues with the knuckleheaded, heavy arms wielding fuck heads you got yourselves caught up in, too.” He hissed a breath over his teeth, shaking his head. “Fentanyl, gentleman. What a risky business that is.”

What in the fuck didn’t this man know about their operations? EZ was all but surprised that Rocco wasn’t clued in on the colour of his underwear by that point, the man seemingly well informed, his intel even extending to knowing about their deal with Cole.  

He rose to his feet, jerking his head towards the balcony. “If you could give myself and my VP a moment?”  

Rocco made a passive motion with his hand, nodding. “Sure, take your time.”  

They strode across the suite, wallet chains rattling and leather creaking the only sounds to permeate the silence of the room, EZ sliding the glass door open. The warm Vegas air hit him, his eyes narrowing as he looked out over the luminosity of the strip, thousands upon thousands of lights twinkling. They glittered a promise of wealth and prosperity hinged upon a gamble, which was exactly what Rocco Lombardi was offering up to them.

“You have to back me on this when we take it to the table. The risk is massive, and I appreciate that, but this? This is our way out of it all. Our way out and our ladder to climb back to the top.”

Bishop considered the words of his president as he pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one up. A massive risk; fuck, that was putting it lightly. It was a fool’s errand, in short, transporting such a colossal consignment of heroin. The pay off, though? If they could execute each run flawlessly, it would be beyond worth it. Santo Padre would be back on top, and the Mayans kings of California.  

He wanted with everything he had to back EZ, but something persistent tugged at him deep in his guts. The old adage ‘too good to be true’ echoed through his mind. There had to be another catch. For all appearances, said catch appeared to be the two tons of narcotics, the kind of consignment that would mean the MC would never see the outside of a prison for the remainder of their lives, should they be caught moving it. However, he felt there was another shoe yet to drop from Lombardi’s perspective.  

Conflict rose in him like an unpleasant tempest, knowing that they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Take the deal and shoulder an enormous risk or walk away from it and try to seek a way out of their mess alone. Being in the pocket of the mafia was a dangerous location, he knew that; they both knew that. In this instance, no matter how much trepidation he felt, he had to concede that Lombari’s offer was very much the lesser of two evils.  

Still, it didn’t prevent him voicing the concern. “I feel like there’s something extra he’s gonna have us on the hook for further down the road.” Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he turned to his president, brows furrowed, his head shaking softly. “I wanna back you, but I don’t trust him.”

Neither did EZ, if he was honest. “We don’t need to trust him. We need to make ourselves indispensable to him. The weight of his organisation has the power to break us completely, and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t see that, Bish. We gotta remember that he’s coming to us because he needs this symbiosis too. If he had any other plan to move his product, he’d have exacted it by now. What he’s offering us in payment solidifies that. He needs to lock the MC down.”  

He took a breath, his eyes once again focusing on the lights below. “And our backs are against the kind of wall we can’t break alone. Rocco Lombardi can not only break that wall, he can obliterate it completely. We can’t refuse.”

Upon their return to Santo Padre, an immediate templo was called, the proposition repeated, a vote cast. It was, just as EZ had anticipated, a unanimous yes. Hell, it wasn’t like any of the men assembled around the table hadn’t known that extreme danger was exactly what he was signing up for, and this was about a risky as it got.

Moving heroin two tons at a time for the mafia was the height of hazardous endeavours, but the payoff would elicit the kind of money and power they had been striving for. Sure, they were still ultimately under someone else’s thumb, but in the world of the MC, Santo Padre rose like the phoenix from the proverbial ashes. If they were careful and exercised caution, they would remain risen, too.  

The operation was undertaken with military precision. The two tons of heroin were moved through the tunnels from one side of the border to the other, then stowed away down there for a day before the Mayans arrived, loading one ton into each van. The vehicles both then hit the road, two members within, two members upon motorcycles escorting at the front and rear, and EZ leading the way.  

They drove far enough apart not to attract the attention that such a closely assembled convoy likely would, with EZ a quarter of a mile in front, so he could warn of any upcoming complications that might lead to said convoy needing to peel off the freeway. Since the run was done at 2am, the risk of such was minimised greatly, yet still they always prepared for the worst-case scenario. This is why two vans were utilized, when all it truly took was one. If one broke down, then there they were, stuck with a life sentence cargo on the side of the freeway, rather than another means to continue their journey.

Arriving at the port, EZ gave the usual nod to the guard, a guard whose pockets had been nicely lined with mafia cash, who would duly send another of his team down to the container as soon as the Mayans left, standing guard until the cargo was loaded onto a vessel bound either for New York or the far east the following morning. Yes, the tentacles of Rocco Lombardi even reached over to the Yakuza, the Japanese criminal organisation taking two tons of product off his hands on a bi-monthly basis.  

The shipment they were about to offload on that particular night was heading straight back to New York, the guys all assembling, the usual banter firing back and forth.  

Downer, of course, was at the epicentre of it. “Hey, I thought there was meant to be whores on the dockside? That’s a thing, ain’t it? We’ve been here four times before now and no damned pussy anywhere.”

Angel lit a cigarette, raising his eyebrows. “Man, where the fuck you get that from?”

“He’s right,” Hank chimed in, “but about a couple hundred years out of date. Hookers used to frequent the docks back in the eighteen, nineteen hundreds. Gave lots of navy men who’d been at sea for months at a time a rampant case of the syph.”  

Guero couldn’t help himself. “Eighteen hundreds. Back in your youth, huh bro?” He was shot a look of pure distain from Downer, his chirp continuing. “I bet you’d like the crotch rot. You’re a sick enough individual to probably be into it.”

“It’s his kink. Itchy balls and a putrid cock, man,” Bottles interjected with, earning a snort laugh from Guero and an incredulous stare from Downer.  

Aggressively delivered middle fingers were raised. “Fuck you and fuck you even fuckin’ harder!”

Bottles grinned at the rise he’d gotten. “You wish.”  

“You’re getting way too smart with that fuckin’ yap of yours, prospect,” he snorted, pointing at Guero. “Been spending too much time with him and his big mouth.”

The man himself beamed, pulling his hood up. “What can I say?” He held his arms in wide expression, his smirk growing. “I’m infectious. Like your cock, just way less scabby.” He received a boot in the ass as he turned, heading straight over to the yellow container and hauling the levers to open it. What he expected to see within were the usual lines of packing cases into which they would load their cargo, with a specially marked one housing their cash.  

The last thing he expected to see was the body of a dishevelled looking blonde girl with a gash upon her head, lying there out cold, and the marked case notably empty of its usual stack of bills.  

“Uh, guys?” he called, appearing back around the container door as his brothers were carrying cargo across from the vans. “We got a situation in here.”  

[minweber]

Musings on Custodes: Hiding in Plain Sight

"How about them three-meter tall demigods retirees hiding among regular humans, amirite fellas?" - the good ol' reliable, never fails to get a chuckle out of the playgroup, even when told for the 50th time.

But how about them indeed? The Eyes of the Emperor are a colorful and very fitting part of Custodes' lore, helping to simultaneously emphasize nearly all the key aspects of their characterization. They strive for perfection in all things, and so willingly end their service once they can no longer achieve it for any reason. They are extremely valuable, and so they can't just retire. They are good at everything, and so can play spies as well as soldiers. It all fits quite nicely.

But how do they do it? Official sources seem to wave away the three-meters-tall thing with vague "oh they disguise themselves as ogryns or servitors". That seems neither sensible nor exciting, and like all such things in warhammer, is thus mercilessly mocked by all seven people who care about such things.

No, some other explanation is needed for this idea - so strong at the outset - to not stumble at the finish line. Some fancy trick that would allow these massive superhuman beings to walk among the common masses of mankind undetected, carrying out their monumental work in secrecy of plain sight... Wait, isn't there already a somewhat lore-prominent guy who used to do this?

So yeah, I think that Custodians should straight up be shapeshifters, like the Emperor himself. Apparently his way of doing it is psychic in nature, which isn't an option for his golden scions, but surely The Arcane Genetic Alchemy (tm) should be enough of a macguffin to allow for such things? And, while we are at it - shouldn't it actually prevent them from ever being in need of retirement in the first place? Aren't they supposed to be ageless and immortal?

Sure, there is always the space marine explanation - their immortality is a lie, a piece of propaganda that the Emperor never expected anyone to be able to test. But what if it isn't? One of my favorite tools of worldbuilding is the question "What if it is working as intended?". What if Custodes are truly immortal, and their bodies slowing down at some point in their lives is not part of aging, but rather of growing up? What if space demigod puberty takes many thousands of years to get to, and involves them trading some of their more basic abilities for something more... complicated? Shapeshifting can be just a first step on a long and fascinating journey for them.

(That would also probably be the funniest possible way to address the "Retcons!" outcry to the introduction of female Custodians. "Yeah, guys, you are right, there used to be no female Custodians before. But by the 42nd millennium a lot of them have reached the age where they become shapeshifters, and immediately Took The Opportunity".)

This would be an interesting way to build on the Eyes of the Emperor, I think. Not actually a retirement, but a next step in some yet-unknown life cycle of immortal beings. It could be used to further emphasize their detachment from humanity and differentiate them from space marines (which especially is a constant concern, as any Custodes player will tell you), to once again point out how they are not all about fighting, as well as add the "understanding of their own bodies" to the list of things they lost with the Emperor.

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 17 A good weekend, but not a great weekend for writing lol I was SO busy. I did get a lot done though, I spent some wonderful time with my sister and my niece, I managed to organize my storage unit [I did all the work of going through what I wanted to keep vs what I wanted to throw away only to discover they don't have dumpsters on the property so... that's a problem to tackle another day], I went to the library and picked up some new books, I spent time with many people I love and I got some really cool new pens in the mail. I figured out some more characters for Blood Sun Territory, and I think I have the skeleton of the story all ironed out and ready to go. Back on the horse this coming week! I'm only 8k away from the month goal of 30K, but I'm hoping to over shoot it simply because I'm having a good time writing. But I have an excerpt for you, even if this weekend I've been away from my computer doing in the world things. It's a short little excerpt, just Dolcezza and Malachi talking about an interesting plant and the challenges of the territory and it's ever changing ecosystem. I know how their gonna travel, and more excitingly, I've figured out the little ways in which they begin to fall in love. Teeheheheheheee love making my barbies kiss. Taglist: @theskeletonprior @thelittlestspider @badscientist @tragedycoded If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post

Malachi has never seen anything like it. Of course it is possible that he simply isn’t worldly enough, that this sort of enormous blooming cactus could be found outside of the territory existing as it is for a thousand years, sacred and well known to some, foreign and strange to others like him. He grew up in the sterility of the suburbs and grew into something of a city boy, so maybe it’s not this place that’s manifested this odd, entrancing flora, but nature itself and its unending creativity. He starts moving towards it and Dolcezza looks up in time to deter him. 

“Don’t you go over there.” He warns, stooping to pick up a rock that barely fits in his fist. “We all learn the land together, some things get learned the hard way. I’ll spare you that. Pretty, ain’t it?” He says, also looking out on the bulbous, many bodied cactus, its enormous spines reaching out from between hundreds of blue and purple flowers. Dolcezza throws the rock hard and when it hits the cactus, there is a meaty thud followed by the woosh of wings, the flowers dispersing in a burst, fluttering in a swarm. Malachi gasps. They aren’t flowers at all, but insects, their wings perfect emulations of petaled flowers. The cactus’ spines react too, and about a dozen of them fire off from the cactus, launching a few feet before impaling the earth. The swarm divides into masses, fluttering towards the launched spines, but when they seem to find nothing of interest pinned by those deadly barbs, they gather upon the cactus again, settling gently, renewing its beauty from deadly and hostile to elegantly floral. 

“Those butterflies like blood, they hang round the cactus cuz once it shoots somethin’ they can drink up the blood spilt and feed on the kill. They are gorgeous, but most shit out here that might draw ya in with its prettiness is more trouble than it’s worth.” 

“How’d you find that out?” 

“Like I told ya. The hard way. Some horticulturalist fella hired me years back, wanted to study out here and see if any of the new plants had medicinal potential or what have you. Got one of them spikes right through his gut trying to collect the butterflies for study. We both thought they were flowers, at the time.” 

“Did he die?” Malachi asks, reflexively pressing his hand over his stomach in a sympathetic jolt of discomfort. He could’ve taken one of those spikes to the gut too, if Dolcezza hadn’t stopped him. 

“Nah, he had a rough time of it though. Doctor in town has seen more than a war medic by now; before the blood sun most she’d get up to is curing colds, delivering babies- now she’s got much more to do than that any given day.” 

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

Some scattered thoughts, fellas... Not looking to debate anything, just some raw thoughts born out of initial despair, anger, and determination...

To say the least, life looks to get harder for me now for the forseable future. As a queer autistic enby. For a multitude of reasons, in and around the election of Orange Nightmare and his brigade of evil. As the hours roll by, it all starts to make a little more sense to me at least. Now that the shock of Election Day night is over and the day after defeat has eased... In that, the Democratic Party as it is seems unfit at the moment against the massive misinformation apparatus of the right, and the utterly wide reach that it has across the country AND across several age groups... At least in this very moment... We could very well rebound in the next midterms and put some roadblocks up, and NO, I am not here for your "no more elections ever again". I'm not a "lay down and take it"-type person. I did that once many years ago when I had a severe mental health crisis as a teenager, and yeah... NEVER again. I try to be resilient.

And yeah, we have to do more than just vote in order to keep our rights and some sense of stability. I do know that there has to be more effort building communities and backup systems for all of us out there, and how we as a people can make things right when our leaders can't or refuse to. Hopefully this accelerates more of that, and hopefully I find IRL community I can feel safe with in case something were to go wrong for me.

We're right now hearing about how despite their "best" efforts, the Kamala Harris campaign just could not compete with that ecosystem of grievance, hate, and complete detached-ness. In addition to other issues with which the Harris campaign and incumbent Biden administration were failing on. The way I see it, the way they try to get people enthusiastic... it's old-fashioned and kinda hokey, while the right courts Gen Z with podcasts and Joe Rogan-type shit, and gets everyone else through the ever-reliable Fox News and Sinclair-owned media. Plus a legacy media collection that has shifted right for many years, publications and networks that coddle the right and take plenty of time to constantly fry the Dems over the littlest things. The New York Times a CHIEF offender among them. The late great Frank Zappa - one of my favorite musicians and often spot on in his indictment of the right - accurately pointed that out in an interview in 1988, that the media back then even was "turning right". That tells you a lot, doesn't it? And that's a base that's been mobilized since the '70s, told to diligently vote in every single election from presidential to midterms to local. And they did, and continue to do so, and it's why so many institutions are gummed up with these clowns and why they hold all this power. Any of us who aren't subscribing to that unified authoritarian ideology are still at the base of a massive mountain, it seems.

I also think that too many Americans of many stripes just "relate" to that guy.

A lot of my family is MAGA, and thus I know other MAGA/conservative-types as well, and the sentiment with Orange Turdgoblin is ALWAYS stuff like "he's NOT a politician!", "he's NOT like all those OTHER politicians!", "he came in and rocked the boat!", "he ran America like a BUSINESS"... It's vibes. That's mostly what it is amongst the population that isn't necessarily conservative or right-wing. A bumbling buffoon who you can have a beer with, I guess. He has that, Kamala doesn't, and certainly not our soon-to-be VP, and several other actual politicians. Yes, our politicians and leaders are deeply flawed, even on side blue. Biden's administration hasn't always been great for me, as I've often felt the effects of late-stage capitalism and the aftermath of COVID's first two years. But I'm also not stupid or uninformed enough to just throw everything to a guy who literally said he wanted generals not dissimilar to the ones Hitler had, in addition to all the other heinous stuff he has said and done over the course of... Well, forget his presidency for a second, his whole goddamn career stretching back to the '70s.

That there is a huge problem. That after his disastrous first term, he somehow got 12M MORE votes than he did in 2016. And that's WITH COVID-19's first months factored in... And only lost about 1M this election, despite everything he had done after losing in 2020. Americans just seem to have collective amnesia, don't they? Some hardships during the Biden administration? Yeah sure, let's bring that even worse guy back! It boggles me, and yet it doesn't. And the kids won't save us, again, the right got them. They know how to do this shit, and it's the rest of us who need to not only catch up, but best it.

These past couple of years have been pretty big for me. I came out as queer and non-binary by mid-2022, I conquered A LOT of my driving fears and I get around more, I started committing to a webcomic after years of trying to find a simpler idea to turn into something that would put me out there, and I finally moved out of my home at the age of 30 in early 2023. Massive developments for me, in addition to being more who I want to be and feeling generally happier than ever. Feeling like I can really do this adult thing on my own, and go on lots of adventures. There were hardships, financially, and I'm not fully out of the closet yet. I had big plans for later this year and into next year, but because of what has happened, that may have to be put aside for a bit as I reroute and figure out ways to protect myself should something go completely wrong for me.

And that first day, I was scrambling, frantic, like it was going to be over the minute he's inaugurated. I have little to fall back on, no safety net whatsoever... But I'm here and still functioning... And there's a lot at play between now and the midterms, and even at the end of his first year of his second term. This is not dissimilar to how COVID-19 knocked the wind out of the sails I was putting up by early 2020, and that this will just be another setback that I have to get around. After all this personal progress that I made. But because it happened once, I know what it feels like. I'm still not entirely sure about the situation, but there has to be a way. And it's helped by slowly abandoning what was once Twitter... Or at least, locking what used to be my main account. No longer participating in endless misery there, nor having to hear a barrage of shit.

On Bluesky, it's not as bad. I joined Bluesky a year or so ago, and while it's imperfect in many ways, the vibe is different and there's way less of twitter's usual "lay down and take it" bullshit. All these wild even-worse-future scenarios that get laid out in these multi-tweet essays, with NO solution or way to even stop it. I've had it with that. That was a thing on there since 2016, and it only got worse and worse with each election and cataclysmic world event. Algorithms love to shovel shit in your face, and it's nice to get away or slowly start disengaging. Tumblr's also deeply imperfect and has more or less become its own kinda shitty, but it's great for me to use as a diary for longer-form posts.

I don't know where the road goes from here, but I have to keep going. At least I have somewhat surveyed the situation, as have many others, and it doesn't seem like all is completely over... Like people on that other app often say it is.

[midnightcreator12]

The Portal Home is Built With Roadblock Chapter 26 - Homestretch

AO3 Link

And this chapter has new ref sheets for Chula!

Chula spends a little time with the boys before she goes home. And she makes a decision.

“Seriously. We were on an Earth, with pizza, for a month!” Mikey threw his hands in the air dramatically. “How did we never get you any? Leo told us that you don’t have pizza in space and we never once order in!”

Chula shrugged, “Must’ve slipped our minds between the whole kidnapping thing that happened.”

“Which I would prefer we did not talk about! Thank you very much!” Donnie shouted from his seat.

“Can you guys chill?” Raph grumbled from the middle of the transport. “Raph’s trying to drive responsibly.”

“You mean grandma slow!” Leo gripped. “Dude, I haven’t had a creepy supreme in over a year! Step on it already!”

Mikey pulled a face at the mention of the ‘creepy supreme’, sticking out his tongue, “Why do you even like that stuff?”

“Predator turtle brain,” both Leo and Donnie answered in unison.

Chula chuckled, shaking her head, “You think we should let this Hueso fella know that Leo’s, ya know, not dead?”

“Why spoil the surprise?” Leo asked. “I think it’d be kinda fun to just do my normal thang.”

“You don’t know how to tell him without it being weird and sad so you’re springing it one him instead,” Donnie said.

“Hey!”

“Okay! We’re here!” Raph jumped up from his seat, clapping his hands together. “I’m thinking an extra large creepy supreme for me.”

Mikey gagged.

Chula snorted, dutifully following the boys off of their tank and into…a narrow alleyway with a, frankly, ridiculous amount of graffiti. She still walked into it, even as she eyed the overflowing refuse bins and tiny scavengers, “Seems like an odd place for a canteen.” 

“Well, ya know, can’t make it too obvious. Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret restaurant,” Leo strode up to a particularly heavily painted stretch of wall, popping a hand on his hip as he looked it up and down before spinning and falling backwards.

Right through the wall.

Chula jumped forward on instinct, claws snapping out to pull Leo back. But she stepped partly through with the action. Color and noise exploded around her in bright gold lighting and dusty old brick.

She blinked a few times, eyes scanning over the dozens of- yokai, Leo had said they were called?- that occupied the space, eating, drinking and laughing, filling the space with a cozy atmosphere.

The rest of the turtles scrabbled in behind her, all four moving to ‘present’ the canteen to her.

“Pretty sweet, right?” Leo beamed up at her.

She chuckled, reaching down to ruffle his now very long mask tails, “Yes Verd’ika, it is very cool.”

“Hey sweet,” Mikey pointed towards the far wall of booths. “Our spot is open!”

“Oh yeah, best seat in the house,” Leo pumped a fist before grabbing Chula and tugging her further into the canteen.

When they got closer, it became clear why this was the turtles favored spot.

It was a simple booth overall but one thing that made it different was the fact that the table was off center. The small change meant one side could accommodate the three smaller turtles and one could easily fit Raph and all found would be perfectly comfortable.

And, in today's case, a Mandalorian hybrid as well.

Leo pretty much launched into a seat, followed closely by Mikey, both giggling and shoving each other. Donnie and Raph settled in much more calmly, shaking their heads at the other two’s antics.

Chula started to sit as well, when a feeling crawled up her spine.

She didn’t know if it was Lasat instinct or Mandalorian training, but she always knew when someone was staring at her. And sometime after the fourth time Leo got kidnapped, her sixth sense extended to him.

So when the feeling of eyes linger far too long started to make her fur stand on end she paused, slowly turning to scan the room.

She found the guilty party easily, because he was literally standing in the middle of everything.

But when she spotted him, she had to do a double take.

Then a triple.

Because, yes, Leo had told her living skeletons were a thing here and the proprietor of Run of the Mill was one of these living skeletons. But even with that prior knowledge, actually seeing an actual skeleton, standing in a dark suit and hat holding a little book and pen, made something in her brain screech to a halt in shock.

But if that skeleton was who she thought he was…it would explain the staring.

She turned back to the group, sliding into the booth and lowering her voice, “Out of curiosity, how close are you to that Hueso fella?”

“Oh, me and Mr. Bonsey are great friends! We even went on an adventure one time and I helped him reconnect with his brother and I totally saved this place from disaster to help him out.”

“I helped that time, ya know,” Mikey grumbled, crossing his arms.

Leo flapped his hands dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, we learned a lesson about teamwork and healthy sportsmanship…why do you ask?”

Chula’s ear flicked, listening to the squeak of leather shoes on hard flooring as someone started to advance on the booth. She grinned and raised one hand to point.

Leo frowned, slowly turning to see where she was pointing. And she could see the moment he saw the bone-man coming at the table, literally seconds before the said table shuddered from a bony hand slamming down on it.

“If you think this is a cute prank kid, I’m going to ban you.”

The entire table stared for a moment, with a mix of surprise and shock at the statement.

Leo blinked, brow pinching, “Wow, okay, I knew this was gonna hit hard but wow, did not know you cared that much boss.”

“Pepino,” Hueso probably meant to growl the word out but he sounded almost choked up to Chula.

Leo was quick to keep talking, going a mile a minute as he explained, “Okay! I didn’t set up a prank or anything. I got portal jacked into a completely different dimension. Technically twice but one was kinda on purpose but, anyway, it took me awhile to get back and first thing we needed to do was make sure my rescuer had a slice of proper pizza from the best spot in town. Did you know they don’t have pizza in space? There is no pizza in space man!”

Hueso frowned, finally looking around at the rest of the table and, by extension, at Chula. She smiled, trying very hard to not wonder how a face made of bone was so damn expressive.

His…eyes? -eye sockets? How did expressions work when someone didn’t have any skin?- narrowed as he looked her up and down. She sat back, waiting for his appraisal to conclude, very aware that Leo was watching the interaction with bated breath.

His face was still pinched as he slowly turned back to Leo, “...she won’t cause any problems, will she?”

“You kidding?” Leo chuckled. “She is, like, the chillest person you’ll ever meet. Chill as ice, as a cucumber, cooler than an icy cucumber-”

Hueso sighed and pinched his nose bridge as if he was annoyed. But Chula smirked, seeing some tension leave the man's shoulders, “Haven’t changed a bit, have you pepino?”

“Nooope!” Leo said proudly. “And since we cleared all that up, how about some pizza? My friend here has never had it and I haven’t had a decent pie in ages!”

Hueso sighed again but he was smiling softly as he whipped out his pad and pen again, “What are you niños wanting today then?”

The boys almost instantly started talking over each other, rattling off their orders so quickly, Chula didn’t catch most of what they said. But the chaotic mix of voices didn’t seem to throw Hueso in the slightest. His pen was practically flying and his small smile grew wider and wider with every moment. He was beaming when he finally left the table.

“I think he missed you,” Chula commented lightly.

“Yeah,” Leo murmured. Then he shook himself, plastering a smile on his face, “I mean, yeah, duh, of course he missed me! I’m basically his favorite customer.”

The other turtles collectively groaned, with Raph even mumbling a quiet, “You’re definitely not even close, dude.”

Chula chuckled, folding her hands on the table, “Tell me again, how did you all even find this place?”

“Oh now that’s a story!” Leo beamed, happily launching into the story of how they’d happened to see another yokai going in years ago and had naturally followed her..

She smirked when Leo tried to claim he had been dominating the ‘Maze of Death’ that the place had and his brothers were quick to correct that they’d all done awful in it when Hueso returned with several pizzas.

The smell of cooked cheese and bread hit her nose. Her ears flicked up in interest at what she assumed to be the creepy supremes, covered in small, squirming tentacle creatures. Two more joined those, with much more tame and not alive toppings. Mikeys had a yellow fruit mixed with chunks of meat while the one Leo had ordered on her behalf had a bunch of thin, round slices of meat and what looked like peppers.

She took another sniff of the air before grabbing a slice, mimicking the boys as they started to dig in. She could feel when they all paused to watch her take a large bite out of the pizza.

The explosion of cheese and spice on her tongue made her ears twitch and a happy, high trill to burst from her throat.

“I knew you’d like the spice lovers!” Leo crowed happily.

“Mikey,” Chula swallowed and beamed at the box turtle. “You’re teaching me how to make this.”

Mikey grinned back, eyes shining, “Yes! We’ll make you a pro pizza chef in no time!”

Chula took another bite of pizza, reveling in the clash of flavor that burned her throat and made her taste buds sing. 

“Try this too!” Leo scooped us a slice of his creepy supreme as passed it over the table.

Chula happily took the slice, crunching down on the little creatures and through the thick crust.

She definitely couldn’t leave until she learned all she could about making pizza from Mikey. The clones would love this stuff.

—-------------------------

Chula raised a brow at Donnie when she saw where he did his shopping, “This is a refuse-yard.”

“And I recall Leo saying that you traded scrap for extra money.”

“...you know what, fair.”

Donnie smirked and activated his battle-shell to boost himself over the fence. Chula rolled her eyes and manually vaulted over after him, “I thought you said you had what you needed for the last touch-ups on the Tortuga.”

“Technically,” Donnie stressed out the word as he hovered between piles of trash. “I could use my current martials to just replace the generator prongs, but I would also like to upgrade the positioning array! It was a bit of a rush job and we’d already used most of our resources on the ship. And since you don’t seem to be in much of a hurry, now is as good a time as any!”

Chula hummed, trying to ignore the comment about how she wasn’t pushing the timeline up. She probably should be but…Astra could look after things for a bit longer. Chula was just…making sure Donnie didn’t burn himself out or anything.

Plus, she had to have a chat with that Berry person. And she’d told Mikey he could give her armor a new paint job.

So she shrugged and started picking through a pile of rusted transport parts, “And you definitely needed me for this, huh?”

“What-oh, yeah, of course I did! Why wouldn’t I need the help? We’ll be carrying a lot of materials back to the lab and I clearly need help with that and you’re clearly the strongest one among us at the moment! Therefore it was not weird at all for me to request you help on this mission! Yes, nailed it, perfect story.”

Chula chuckled and moved to loom behind Donnie and give him a very flat look, “Donatello. You can just say ‘I wanted us to hang out one on one’.”

“Whaaat, that, me, no, why would I think that? What would-,” Donnie paused. “....maybe.”

Chula cackled then, reaching down to ruffling Donnie’s mask tails before moving away again, “Leo was right, you’re an awful lair.”

“SCOFF!” Donnie cried indignantly. “I am excellent at deception!”

“Uh-huh,” Chula nodded, moving further away to dig into another pile. Donnie was ranting but she let the words wash over her, only really paying attention to his voice and where it was coming from.

It was actually pretty easy to keep tabs on Donnie. The kid liked to talk, even if his audience wasn’t fully listening. So she wandered around, quietly digging through piles of metal to find all the things Donnie wanted them to get. 

Her search took her a bit further than she had meant to wander away but she could still hear Donnie, now fully momologing to himself, so she wasn’t worried. Her ears flicked forward in interest when she spotted a dented terminal jutting out of a pile of plastic bags. She dragged it out to start prying open the casing and see if any of the internals were salvageable.

She froze before she could even dig her claws into the terminal seams.

Because the scrapyard had suddenly gone very quiet.

Chula spun and spinted back to where she’d last heard Donnie, quietly hoping that he’d just paused in his rants for air.

Her ears twitched when she picked out voices again. Voices, more than just Donnie. And she didn’t recognize any of the voices as Donnie.

She crouched as she got closer, using the piles of trash and shadows to conceal herself as she peered around a corner.

Then she frowned at the scene before her.

Donnie had, in fact, been joined by some new people, three teenagers if Chula was guessing correctly. The girl of the group was talking, ranting almost, waving her hands dramatically along with two wrist tablets that covered her lower arms. The design reminded her of Donnie’s but it was bulkier and more bells and whistles were sticking out of them.

And speaking of Donnie. Chula’s confusion doubled at the almost bored expression on his face. He even rolled his entire head when the girl held out her arms to show off her tech, “I would be flattered by the imitation if it wasn’t so….rudimentary.”

“Oh, but I’ve made some additions of my own!” The girl said, hands flying as she started tapping the screens.

Chula’s hackles rose as dozens of purple flying droids seemed to appear from nowhere, circling around the group. Donnie still didn’t look concerned but Chula’s hand moved to her hip anyway.

“Now,” the girl continued, steeping her fingers. “Since our last encounter we looked into the parts that you stole-”

“Borrowed,” Donnie interrupted.

“Stole,” the girl countered back. “Face it Von Ryan, you’ve stooped to our level. But what I want to know is. What oh what are you trying to build?”

Donnie scoffed, “Even if I told you, that project would be far past what you could comprehend. So, if you're done showboating, I really need to get back to business.”

The girl's face pinched in anger, jaw tensing as her hand moved to one of the wrist tablets.

Chula bared her teeth and moved.

She hadn’t armored up fully for this little outing, but she had brought her weapons. And it turned out, Earth droids were very breakable.

The three humans jumped and screamed as her blaster blots rang out, knocking the droids out of the air. Donnie didn’t scream but his shoulders did jump when the first bolt screeched through the air.

Chula paused when the last droid hit the ground, carefully lowering her as she slowly moved her gaze to the three teens.

They stared back, eyes wide as each scanned her up and down.

The skinny one with glasses broke the silence, “Nope!” he spun, sprinting for the fence while chanting. “Nope, nope, nope, no thank you! I’m out!”

“Hey! Wait up!” the other boy scrambled after the first.

Much to the girl's dismay, “Hey! Get back here you two!”

Neither boy listened to her, both far too busy climbing the fence and running as far and fast as they could.

Chula cleared her throat, turning to Donnie, “Is there a problem here Edeemir’ika?”

“...I could have handled that,” Donnie grumbled.

Chula hummed and looked back to the girl.

She’d turned back to Chula, eyes going wide again as she started to frantically tap at her tablets. 

Chula’s eyes narrowed and she took a step closer, growling out, “Are we going to have a problem kid?”

 The girl swallowed, looking down at her tablet then up again, “T-this is none of you business, ya know!”

“Oh, it became my business when you threatened my kid,” Chula bared her teeth in a wide grin and moved fully out of the shadows. “So like I asked. Is. There. A. Problem?”

The girl took a step back.

Donnie snorted, leaning against a rusted transport, “I’d start running if I were you Kendra. Miss. Verd has a very ‘take no prisoners’ attitude.”

Kendra looked between Donnie and Chula, taking another small step back.

Chula advanced, letting a growl rumble up her throat.

That got her moving. Kendra spun and started booking it, calling shrilly over her shoulder, “This isn’t over Donatello!”

“Yeah, yeah, vengeance, payback, other…speech about how I’m gonna pay,”

Chula huffed, stowing her blaster and moving to stand Next to Donnie, “Are they an issue a lot?”

“Hardly,” Donnie sighed. “They were barely a challenge for me before I tapped into my ninpo. Now they’re a minor annoyance.”

Chula hummed, watching Kendra scrabbling over the scrapyard fence.

She felt Donnie looking at her. She dipped her head to meet his narrowed eyes, “What?”

“I was under the impression that kids were not a group you would fight. The Purple Dragons are annoying but hardly worth a rule exception.”

Chula nodded, “Yeah but they don’t know that, do they?”

Donnie blinked.

Then started cackling, “Oh I am so glad you accompanied me!”

—--------------------------

“Chula, Chula, Chula!”

Chula paused so the orange and green blur heading her way could launch himself onto her back. She was a bit surprised when Mikey kept going, climbing over her shoulder, but she put her arms out so that when he tumbled fully over her shoulder he landed safely.

He was beaming, almost vibrating with excitement and clutching one of his sketchbooks, “So, I remember you said I could give your armor new paint and I was brainstorming and I got the awesomest idea! I made some inspo designs we can look at and I can go get metal paint tonight and we can paint it super soon if we narrow down the design asap.”

Chula hummed and started walking towards the common area, “So basically, you want me to look over the designs now.”

“Mmmmaaaaybe!” Mikey hunkered down in his perch.

Chula snorted but plopped down in Raph’s beanbag chair, adjusting her hold so she could better look at the book in Mikey’s lap. “Well, let’s see it then Tranyc'ika.”

Mikey paused, hand frozen as it went to open the book, then tipped his head back, “Tra-nechie?”

“TRAH-neesh,” Chula corrected.

“Tranyc,” Mikey repeated softly. “I know the ‘ika’ means little but Leo’s never used tranyc. What’s that mean?”

“Well, the literal translation is ‘star-burned’,” Chula said. “But a more common translation is ‘sunny’ or ‘sunshine’.”

Mikey giggled, “I should let you know, I’m usually opposed to being called ‘little’ anything.”

“You’re all little to me,” Chula countered. “You all just itty-bitty lil terrapins.” The statement was accompanied by her squeezing her arms and pitching her voice higher.

Mikey cackled, squirming in her hold, “Okay, okay!” Chula loosened her arms and let Mikey breathe. “Okay, I will allow one exception to my rule.”

“Oh, like I wasn’t going to call you ika anyway,.” Chula gave one more squeeze. “Now, let me see those drafts, hmm? I’m lookin’ forward to that new paint job.”

Mikey grinned, flipping open his sketchbook.

Chula whistled at the first image, an impressive recreation of her helmet in black ink and layed with bold, blue stripes overtop, “You didn’t happen to get a second option on this one, did you?”

“Not exactly,” Mieky fiddled with the edge of the flimsi. “It’s just…we all know you gotta go back to your dimension eventually. And it sounds really dangerous there so I thought, maybe I could put all of us on your armor. That way, we’ll all kinda be with you.”

Chula smiled, heart swelling at the thought Mikey had put into this, “That sounds really nice actually.”

Mikey peered up at her. 

She smiled down at him, “You got any more drafts with all your colors?”

Mikey beamed, flipping a few pages until he got to some sketches of her full armor, “I may have made a few versions.”

“Nice,” Chula snuggled down in her seat, pointing to the image of her chestplate, the stripes replaced by orange lighting bolts. “Can you put a star on there? Over the iron heart.”

“Ohhh, yeah, that would look epic!” Mikey whipped out an orange marker.

—---------------------

“Hey, uh, Miss. Verd?”

Chula blinked, slowly turning to look at Raph, “Miss. Verd? Where did that come from?”

Raph ducked his head in embarrassment, “...yeah, that was kinda weird.”

Chula smiled, taking a little mercy on the kid and patting his arm, “Hey, okay, why don’t you tell me what you want, hmm? I assume that’s what the formality was about.”

“Well…I was just wondering….if you could maybe…spar…with me?”

“Oh is that all!” Chula grinned, slinging an arm around Raph’s shoulders and started walking to the ‘dojo’. “Don’t know why you didn’t join me and Leo this morning if you wanted a spar. But he tends to need an outlet a lot per day so maybe the three of us-”

“Um, actually, Raph just wanted it to be one on one.”

Chula paused, glancing down at Raph. The kid was wringing his hands nervously, eyes fixed on their feet.

“...any reason you want it to be one on one?” She asked. “Because if you had Leo fightin’ with you, let’s be honest, you’d actually have a chance landin’ some hits.”

Raph frowned at that, a cute furrow forming on his brow, “Raph can take you!”

“Oh, ho, can you now?” Chula’s smile turned to a smirk as she pulled away, cuffing Raph lighty on the back of his head before dancing away.

Raph spluttered at the tap, head whipping to where she’d been and then back to her, “We haven’t gotten to the dojo yet!”

“And? Come on, who limits a good spar to one room?”

Raph stammered more, so Chula zipped forward long enough to give him another tap on the shoulder.

That seemed to be enough to snap Raph out of his stupor. He twitched at the hit but when he looked up to see Chula moving away again his eyes narrowed. Chula grinned when he dropped into a ready stance. Her grin got even wider when he moved first, hard and fast and right for her.

She brought her arms up to block, the force of Raph’s attack making her slide back. She dug her claws into the floor and twisted one hand to grab Raphs wrist. He yipped in surprise when she flipped him, slamming loudly onto the floor.

He shook off the impact quickly, rolling away from her and to his feet. He took more castion this time, moving slowly around Chula, eyes flicking up and down, looking for an opening.

Chula’s hands flexed, hackles raising as she waited for Raph to make a move.

When he attacked again, she sidestepped, grabbing the lip of his shell and using the momentum to roll him to the floor again. She pinned him, smirking as he blinked confusedly at her, “Now, why are you doin’ this with me and not one of your brothers?”

Raph’s eyes went wide and he turned his head away, “Uh…Leo said you were a good fighter and-and you’re strong enough so Raph won’t hurt you and my brothers are smaller-”

“Oh like that stops them,” Chula huffed, standing up. “Pretty sure every bad guy you fight on the regular is twice your size. Which makes them at least three times as big as your brothers.”

Raph was back to stammering, trying to look anywhere but Chula, “It’s, um, you know, different! If-if I get too into it I can do more damage and Raph doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Chula frowned, crouching down next to Raph, “You wouldn’t ever hurt your brothers.”

Raph flinched at that, sitting up and hugging himself, “....but I have.”

“What? When? Pretty sure Leo would have mentioned that to me at some point.”

Raph huddled into himself even more, “...it was during the Invasion.”

Chula frowned, thinking back and trying to parse out if Raph hurting the other boys was ever mentioned.

“...you cannot be talkin’ about how you got mind controlled by the Krang.”

Raph’s head ducked partly into his shell.

“Okay, no, no. Whatever convoluted bantha-osik you’ve logiced out in your head is wrong. I may not know all the details of that invasion but you know what I do know? You are not responsible for what you do when under mind control. And I have given this talk to way too many clones, seriously, mind control and manipulation weirdly happens a lot in the battalion, so trust me when I say with complete certainty that you, Raphael Hamato, would never hurt your siblings. Ever.”

Raph blinked, jaw opening slightly, then closing again, “...mind control was common with the soldiers you worked with?”

“Yes,” Chula leaned back to sit more on her haunches, tipping her head back with a groan. “Force users, plant spores, freaky worm things, a whole planet that just messed with baselines humans for some reason. Never figured that out, didn't want to figure it out, just sent a big ol’ ‘do not land here’ to the Republic on that one.”

Raph snorted.

“Ah, there’s a smile,” Chula beamed, bumping Raph’s shoulder. “There’s your awesome, toothy smile. Now, are we gonna keep thinking silly things Aranar’ika?”

“...maybe,” Raph peeked up. “I’ll stop if you tell me what aranar means?”

“Oh, look at your pronunciation. Very good,” Chula beamed. “It means ‘defender’. Felt it suited you.”

Raph blinked again, eyes going wide as he looked down at his own hands, “Aranar.”

He smiled and Chula saw his shoulders shimmy a little and a tiny chirp come out of his mouth. She felt a burst of warmth at the reaction and basked in Raph joy at the nickname.

—--------------------

“Whoa, looking good guys!”

“Right?” Chula twisted at the waist, admiring her armor in a floor length mirror. “We still gotta add the protective coating but I wanted to see it all together. Mikey did amazing.”

She wasn’t exaggerating to Leo in the slightest, she loved the design Mikey had eventually settled on. The chestplate had a massive star over the iron heart, framed by four lighting bolts. The gold on her arm bracers was replaced with bright purple rectangles that mimicked Donnie’s markings. Her backplate had been redone with red spikes and a large Hamato Clan symbol. And her helmet was now adored with blue stripes that were obviously inspired by Leo’s facial markings.

She’d loved it on flimsi and seeing it on her armor made her love it even more.

She did a small spin, showing off the entire ensemble to Leo and Mikey.

Leo laughed, clapping as he approached, “Very nice, very nice. Excellent work as always, Michel.”

“Aw, you guys,” Mikey giggled.

“Just needs one more touch,” Leo said, his expression suddenly becoming nervous.

Chula turned to fully face him, removing her helmet, “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Leo cleared his throat. “I know Donnie’s hasn’t got the cross-dimensional cell phone thingie done yet but…you know, in case he finishes before you get a chance to visit.”

Leo reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a flat object wrapped in blue fabric. Chula quickly set her helmet aside, opening a palm for Leo to place the object into her hand. She noted with surprise that the fabric was Leo’s mask, the one that he had been wearing when they first met. She handled the tattered fabric carefully, fingers ghosting over the torn edges and old blood stains before opening it.

Inside the mask was a belt emblem, almost exactly like the ones all the turtles wore, only this one was a bit on the larger size. A smile spread across Chula’s face, “This is perfect!”

Chula turned to face the mirror again so that she could fix the emblem and mask to her belt. The metal gleamed as she turned back, popping a hip for extra effect, “This really ties the whole thing together, don’t you think?”

Mikey giggled, nodding enthusiastically, “Oh yea, the whole thing was definitely missing that! Good thinking Leo!”

Leo huffed, folding his hands behind his head, “Duh, can’t be in the Mad Dogs without our emblem. But, you know you don’t gotta keep the mask, right? It was just the closest thing I had to wrap it up.”

“I know,” Chula started to pull off armor pieces and lay them out on the tarp she and Mikey had been using. “But I like it, it gives me some flair, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely!” Mikey agreed as he started grabbing the top coat sprays. 

Leo blinked, his smile slowly turning into a confused frown. He looked down at his tattered mask tails hanging from behind the emblem, then back up to Chula.

The smile returned, a much softer, more genuine one, “Happy to help.”

—---------------

“So…Barry.”

The yokai in question looked up from his stovetop, “...did you climb in through my window.”

“Yup,” Chula smirked, leaning against the wall. “Wanted us to meet, without the kids.”

Barry wrinkled his nose and turned back to the stove, “Then why not use the door? And if you’re going to break into my residence, at least use my name. I am Baron Draxum, warrior alchemist of the Yokai.”

“Ooooo, well ain’t you fancy,” Chula cleared her throat. “Well I am Chula Verd of Mandalore, multidimensional traveler and honorary member of the Hamato clan. And the one who would very much like to talk about that throwing Leo off a roof comment.”

“I’m surprised the little showman hasn’t mentioned it to you,” Draxum sighed. “I will admit I was not completely in my right mind at the time and I may have taken things to an unnecessary extreme but I created the turtles to be very durable. That fall would have merely injured him, he could have easily- how did you get over here?!”

As Draxum had rambled on, Chula had slowly made her way across the apartment. So when Draxum looked up, she was almost right in his face, causing him to leap back.

She smiled, saccharine sweet, “Oh, well, I guess it’s fine then. He would just get a little hurt if you chucked the kid off a roof.”

She felt a little bit of pride when the aloofness Draxum had been holding finally cracked. His eyes flicked around as she leaned even more into his space, “...clearly, Leonardo has rubbed off on you.”

“We’re both terrible influences on each other,” Chula tilted her head and grinned with all her teeth. “Now, this would normally be the bit where I make you regret messin’ with one of my kids.”

“Your-?”

“But it would upset Mikey. And Leo tells me you’re familiar with the Hidden City.”

“...I am…”

“Greeaaat,” Chula leaned closer, until they were nose to nose. “So, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could find a forge, could you?”

“...not one open for public use.”

“Oh, well then I guess you’re gonna help me break into a forge, aren’t you?”

“...that won’t be necessary,” Draxum managed to souffle away from her and straighten back to full height. “I have one at one of my old laboratories. It should still be perfectly functional.”

“Ah, you don’t want to pull a heist with me…Barry?”

He glared, “Barnor. Draxum.”

“Whatever you say Berry.”

—---------------

Two weeks after Chula had brought Leo and his family home, she stood at the ramp of her ship once again.

The Hamato clan had gathered around as well to see her off.

She hugged each tightly, letting the feeling of each embrace ingrain itself into her memory, even Donnie’s brief little side hug.

Leo was the last, fiddling with his hands as he stood before her, “You’re gonna visit us right? Once you make sure everything is okay?”

Chula hummed, crouching so that she was eye-level with Leo, “You know…my dimension, my galaxy. It’s harsh and unkind more often than not, especially to the people important to me.”

Leo frowned, confused.

“I was planning to steal away the entire battalion, ya know. The Republic doesn’t see the clones as people, they wouldn’t have anything to go to after the war ends. What better place to give them a new life than an entirely different dimension?”

She saw the moment her implication clicked in everyone's minds.

But Leo was the one to voice it, “You’re gonna come back…and stay?”

“Yeah,” Chula nodded. “I want to stay close, you’ve all become family to me. Plus, I gotta keep you crazy kids out of trouble.”

Leo launched himself forward and Chula caught him easily, squeezing tightly enough to pick his feet off the ground.

Mikey threw both his fists in the air with a cheer, “We’re getting new cousins!”

“Would you perchance be bringing back the ship your battalion inhabits as well?” Donnie asked.

Chula laughed, giving Leo one last squeeze before dropping him, “Now, Draxum very kindly showed me where to find a forge for a little side project. Just a little trinket for you kids.”

Chula reached into her belt, pulling out her gifts and separating out the one with a blue cord. She held it up, letting the metal visage of a mythosaur skull gleam in the pump station lights.

“Whoa,” Leo stared at the pendant, cupping his hands around it. “What is it?”

“That is a mythosaur skull, one of the few things every Mandalorian agrees on is that it’s the symbol for all of Mandalore,” she placed the pendent into Leo’s hands before stepping towards the others, passing out the rest. “And on the off chance you bump into another Mandalorian, this should be enough for them to keep you on their good side.”

“Reassuring,” CJ huffed as he looped the cord around his neck. “But it looks really cool.”

“Ditto!” Raph agreed as he put his own pendant on, made slightly bigger to match his size.

Chula chuckled, handing the last Mythosaur pendent to April before going back to Leo, grabbing him in another quick hug, “I’m going to come back with my clan. I’ll drag Astra here kicking and screaming if I have to.”

“Looking forward to it,” Leo grinned. “And can’t wait to meet her.”

Chula smiled. Releasing Leo and heading up the ramp. She paused at the top, turning to give one last wave to the kids, “See you all in a few days.”

“Anata wa hitori ja nai,” Leo said, the statement echoed by his family.

Chula paused, “Well, now you get to give me the language lesson.”

“It’s something our family says,” Leo explained. “It means ‘you are not alone’.”

Chula smiled, a warm feeling wrapping around her, “Well then. Anata wa hitori ja nai, Hamatos. I’ll see you all very soon.”

A loud chaos of ‘bye’s and ‘see you soon’s echoed up to her as the ramp slowly lifted.

Chula’s smile grew as she bounded through the corridors and up into the bridge. She could hear the roof whirring open as she took her seat. 

The console came alive as her hands danced over it. Her smile became downright manic as she settled into her seat, feeling joy almost buzz in every limb. The ship sang in reply to her excitement, engines creating a wonderful symphony as she lifted it into the air.

She reached over, preemptively plugging in her dimensions coordinates.

Nine-one-seven-seven-two-five.

Home.

“Wonder how much has changed,” Chula murmured as she broke above the clouds and activated the gateway.

[panzershrike-pretz]

Okay so its too late at night and I'm having thoughts so here's

Reasons I think Brazil would have no problems with a zombie apocalypse

Based on a conversation me and a friend had a few months ago (maybe last year)

1. Cemeteries

Okay. First off- we're used to seeing zombie movies taking place in the US, right? And from all the movies I've seen, american graves are like a hole on the ground?? And of course the fellas would crawl out easy (they'd still have to get out of the casket but we'll imagine they managed that already

Now, I don't know 'bout all of my fellow brazilians but all of the many funerals I've been to, when they lower a casket they put a few concrete slabs above it. Now- let us think

Its hard enough for a zombie to crawl out of the wood, but then move concrete slabs??? And then we have these bad boys:

Those things above the grave surely would make the zombies be stuck for a while, right??? I've seen alive people struggle to move those lids-

And I took plenty of walks through cemeteries to know that the zombies would be having a HARD time navigating through those bitches. They're all uneven?????? I trip all the time and have fallen more than once and I'm alive enough to calculate my steps

Also. Gates. Never seen a brazilian cemetery without gates. But lets say the zombies do get through, so now we move onto subject 2;

2. Temperature

I'm sorry but you CANNOT tell me that a zombie would make it through the Brazilian weather!!! Not a way in hell

I can barely make it through the heat of here, a dead person would not!!! Never!!!

They be far beyond decomposed as soon as they manage to get out of their graves, with how hot this place is. Sure there are the colder places and the ines that rain, but that'd also not help?????

Without a beating heart to keep the body warm, that shit will freeze. They'd be so fucked down ere on the South tbh, especially high places

And lets say they are from somewhere rainy. The zombies are already decomposing and being rained on??? Just?? They'll be falling apart by the time they reach the road

But okay. The virus keeps them from decomposing at normal speeds. Next:

3. Critters

Tell me the sheer amount of street dogs would not be eating that free meat up, I dare you. Not a word about our caramelos, they're the biggest help 🐕

They'll be fighting over that amount of food. Sure the zombies may walk but they're too slow and there are simply Too Many strays everywhere?? Sometimes they even walk around in gangs

And that's not to say bout the other nasty fellas like my big boys: vultures. They'll be so happy- and everywhere there's vultures. They'll feast✨️✨️✨️ but also flies

Moscas. They'll be everywhere but putting their larvae on the zombies will sure help them decompose????? I hope??????????????????????????????? Anyway, if none of that works:

4. Walls

Unlike all photos, videos and movies of American houses I see, we have walls protecting ours. A giant variety of them with many ways to keep people out

I cannot believe a zombie would go up a 3 meter high wall with glass shards on top and barbwire that Zenaide and José built 40 years ago because there was one (1) single break in in the city around that time. Nuh-uh

And there's the ones with all of that AND electric fence on top. We live inside prisons of maximum security just so we don't get robbed

The zombie's not getting past our defenses!!!!!! And if they do.

5. Bars on every window and door

My house has them. Every single window, even the bathroom ones. And both of our doors, too.

A lot of houses have them in addition to the high ass prison walls. Sure they may get past the walls but I want to see them try and get inside the house.

6. Zombies are slow

This one depends but mostly, they really are slow- so you'd have time to prepare, I guess??? Could even still go to work?? If your vejicle is fast enough???

I can very well see a scenario where everything keeps happening but we just act like the zombies are a minor nuisance like- oh yeah I guess I'll go to João's birthday party yeah. They built a new wall and gate :/ hard to see which houe is it oh uh oop there it is! The one with the ugly graffiti :D just lemme go through here- yep- gotta outrun Seu Jorge here-

Anyway. Yeah. I can see brazilians still going to work like "uuhhhhg if I have to I guess :/ "

7. Hygiene

We do have the fame of being very clean so the disease would be very less likely to spread (i hope). And in line with my prior point, if we still work there'll still be clean water and food and what not

Just don't think too hard about it ok? Ok

8. Roads

The stupid ass infrastructure of this stupid ass country is shit. The ground is uneven as all hell and there's no accessibility almost at all

You tell me if a dead person can walk through here without falling- they can't. Just can't.

We literally have anniversay parties for holes on the road if they stay there long enough, you cannot come here and think that a zombie will be able to navigate through without eating the ground first

9. Big ass country

Giant.

10. Day-to-day life is already a struggle

What? We already have to walk around with wide eyes and cluthing our stuff close or someone could just snatch it away

What is walking just more alert so you're not bitten??? I mean, its nothing too big. A zombie is better than two guys in a motorbike anyway

I for one already walk around like everyone can and will eat me if they have the chance, so upping the game up to creatures that actually will eat me is not that big of a step.

That being said, I'd still end up dying in very stupid way 💀

----------------------------------------------

Feel free to add more reasons, my fellow BRs!! Or gringos (maybe)!!