#guest ; rarity

[bixels]

I watched the original Muppets movies recently.

[ponydoodles]

💜💙 guest art by @25volarsleet !

[ask-lilmissrarity]

What if you buy you some Hayburgers? There's a two for $3 sale! I can get you each two!

@askrarity-dime private messaged me asking if they could be a guest artist, I said yes. Credit goes to them for this.

[misfxts]

Rich People Things™

of Iris' family:

Her parents own a pair of Savannah cats. A male and female pair and they are MASSIVE.

While her cousin on her mom's side is an Olympic fencer. He gets into trouble with the law. A lot. And has been bailed out with his record scrubbed on multiple occasions. Not to mention complete media suppression of the incidents ever happening.

This is in part thanks to his father, who is a lawyer. His father mainly deals with business law but can pull strings in the system for his son.

Grandparents on both sides own estates, while their children own mansions that are about half the size. The grandparents have their own house staff and are usually the go-to places for holding reunions or events.

Her uncle owns a C.yber T.ruck, which irritates Iris' dad (his brother) greatly as someone who works in the tech field.

[sweetestofbelles]

"Hey, Rare. . . is Sweetie okay?"

"Get out."

". . . R-Rarity, look, I-"

"I SAID GET OUT, APPLEJACK."

[askthediscordedcrusaders]

“Girls! Lunch time! Tom made his secret recipe!”

“Coming, Rarity!”

[multitude-of-muses]

*A hunter breaks in and tries to kill Sweetie*

In a purely terrifying and hideous form, Rarity tackles the Anon and destroys them.

Don't fuck with Mama Bear.

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[mariacallous]

When you think of Eastern European Jewish cuisine, which words come to mind? Light? Healthy? Plant based? Probably not. Heavy, homey and meat-centric are more like it. 

Fania Lewando died during the Holocaust, but had she been given the full length of her years, Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine may have taken a turn to the vegetarian side and we might all be eating vegetarian kishke and spinach cutlets in place of brisket.

Lewando is not a household name. In fact, she would have been lost to history had it not been for an unlikely turn of events. Thanks to a serendipitous find, her 1937 work, “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook” (“Vegetarish-Dietisher Kokhbukh”in Yiddish), was saved from oblivion and introduced to the 21st century.

Vilna in the 1930s, where Lewando and her husband Lazar made their home, was a cosmopolitan city with a large Jewish population. Today, it is the capital of Lithuania but it was then part of Poland. Lewando opened a vegetarian eatery called The Vegetarian Dietetic Restaurant on the edge of the city’s Jewish quarter. It was a popular spot among both Jews and non-Jews, as well as luminaries of the Yiddish-speaking world. (Even renowned artist Marc Chagall signed the restaurant’s guest book.)

Lewando was a staunch believer in the health benefits of vegetarianism and devoted her professional life to promoting these beliefs. She wrote: “It has long been established by the highest medical authorities that food made from fruit and vegetables is far healthier and more suitable for the human organism than food made from meat.” Plus, she wrote, vegetarianism satisfies the Jewish precept of not killing living creatures. 

We know little about her life other than she was born Fania Fiszlewicz in the late 1880s to a Jewish family in northern Poland. She married Lazar Lewando, an egg merchant from what is today Belarus and they eventually made their way to Vilna. They did not have children. 

Lewando, to quote Jeffrey Yoskowitz, author of “The Gefilte Manifesto” was “a woman who challenged convention;” a successful entrepreneur, which was a rarity among women of the time. She supervised a kosher vegetarian kitchen on an ocean liner that traveled between Poland and the United States, and gave classes on nutrition to Jewish women in her culinary school. 

“The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook” was sold in Europe and the U.S. in Lewando’s day, but most of the copies were lost or destroyed during the Second World War. In 1995, a couple found a copy of the cookbook at a second-hand book fair in England. They understood the importance of a pre-war, Yiddish-language, vegetarian cookbook written by a woman, so purchased it and sent it to the YIVO Institute’s offices in New York. There, it joined the millions of books, periodicals and photos in YIVO’s archives. 

It was discovered again by two women who visited YIVO and were captivated by the book’s contents and colorful artwork. They had it translated from Yiddish to English so it could be enjoyed by a wider audience.

Like many Ashkenazi cooks, salt was Lewando’s spice, butter her flavor and dill her herb. The book is filled with dishes you’d expect: kugels and blintzes and latkes; borscht and many ways to use cabbage. There’s imitation gefilte fish and kishke made from vegetables, breadcrumbs, eggs and butter. Her cholent (a slow-cooked Sabbath stew) recipes are meat-free, including one made with prune, apple, potatoes and butter that is a cross between a stew and a tzimmes.

There are also some surprises.

Did you know it was possible to access tomatoes, eggplants, asparagus, lemons, cranberries, olive oil, Jerusalem artichokes, blueberries and candied orange peel in pre-war Vilna? There’s a French influence, too, such as recipes for mayonnaise Provencal and iles flottante, a meringue-based dessert, and a salad of marinated cornichons with marinated mushrooms. 

“It’s hard to know who the target audience was for this cookbook,” said Eve Jochnowitz, its English-language translator. “We know from contemporary memoirs that people in Vilna did not have access to these amazing amounts of butter, cream and eggs,” she said. “Lewando was writing from a somewhat privileged and bourgeois position.” While many of these recipes may have been aspirational given the poverty of the Jews at the time, the cookbook demonstrates that it was possible to obtain these ingredients in Vilna, should one have the resources to do so. 

While the cookbook is filled with expensive ingredients, there is also, said Jochnowitz, “a great attention to husbanding one’s resources. She was ahead of her time in the zero-waste movement.” Lewando admonishes her readers to waste nothing. Use the cooking water in which you cooked your vegetables for soup stock. Use the vegetables from the soup stock in other dishes. “Throw nothing out,” she writes in the cookbook’s opening essay. “Everything can be made into food.” Including the liquid from fresh vegetables; Lewando instructed her readers on the art of vitamin drinks and juices, with recipes for Vitamin-Rich Beet Juice and Vitamin-Rich Carrot Juice. “This was very heroic of her,” said Jochnowitz. “There were no juice machines! You make the juice by grating the vegetables and then squeezing the juice out by hand.”

Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, a Jewish scholar and Jewish cookbook collector, describes Lewando as “witty.” “She is showing us,” she said, “that once you eliminate meat and fish, you still have an enormous range of foods you can prepare.” Lewando is about “being creative, imaginative and innovative both with traditional dishes and with what she is introducing that is remote from the traditional repertoire.” She does that in unexpected ways. Her milchig (dairy) matzah balls, for example, have an elegance and lightness to them. She instructs the reader to make a meringue with egg whites, fold in the yolks, then combine with matzah meal, melted butter and hot water. Her sauerkraut salad includes porcini mushrooms. One of her kugels combines cauliflower, apples, sliced almonds and candied orange peel.

There is much that, through contemporary eyes, is missing in “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook.” The recipes do not give step-by-step instructions; rather you will find general directions. Heating instructions are vague, ranging from a “not-too-hot-oven” to a “warm oven” to a “hot oven.” Lewando assumes the reader’s familiarity with the kitchen that today’s cookbook writer would not. 

Lewando and her husband were listed in the 1941 census of the Vilna Ghetto but not in the census of 1942. It is believed that they both died or were killed while attempting to escape. “She really was a visionary,” said Jochnowitz. “It is an unbearable tragedy that she did not live to see the future that she predicted and helped to bring about.”But in cooking her recipes, said Yoskowitz, as dated and incomplete as some of them may be, the conversation between then and now continues.

[keeplcving]

art deco.

(young president!coriolanus x young!f!plinth!reader)

summary: the president takes notice of Sejanus’ much younger sister, at one of his galas, and cannot let her go.

cw: plinth!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, sejanus lives (and is still friends with coryo), age-gap (coryo is 28, reader is are 18), strabo is a shitty father, sweet!coryo (but only to you), heavy smut, creampie, soft sex, pet names (little one, little dove, darling, etc), cuddling, lmk if i missed anything!

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the Presidential Mansion, a stark contrast to the still-setting sun outside. Your arm is tightly linked with your brother, Sejanus’ arm, as you make your way to the table. You don’t know anyone at this event, not really.

You’re far too young, the next youngest people at the gala are brother’s age, and even still, Sej is 10 years older than you. It makes you feel queasy, knowing most of these men in attendance are nearly old enough to be your father, and they are all staring at you.

Staring at you like you’re a fine piece of meat, and they’re starving for a taste.

You sit down next to your brother, and quickly survey the other guests seated at your table. Clemensia Dovecoat, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Persephone Price. All your brother’s age, no one younger. You want to shrink back into your seat, become invisible.

You have no idea why your brother invited you to attend this Gala with him, but you have a feeling it was not with the purest intentions. As you graduated from the Academy, both your parents and your brother were pushing for you to find a suitor, to further better the Plinth name. Frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, you were far more worried about being successful at the University to find a husband.

“Hello.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice breaks you from your reverie. Coriolanus Snow, or should I say President Snow, you think. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was a very attractive man. Having been very young when your brother began bringing him around to your family’s manor, you only had some vague memories of Coriolanus, however, he has been a close friend to Sejanus, so he’s been around your vicinity for years.

I wouldn’t mind marrying him, your thoughts betray every fiber of your being, who you are. You are an independent woman, you don’t need a man, you need to do well at the University, and score a job. Not fawn over the President of Panem. Oh well, you think, he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as young as me.

“Hello, Coriolanus.” Your brother greets him warmly, then lightly touching your arm, “I don’t know if you remember my sister, Y/N, but I’ve invited her as my guest tonight.”

“Hello, Mister President.” You say, wanting to roll your eyes at the pomposity of the statement you just spoke. You quickly scanned Coriolanus, and you were not disappointed. Blonde hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, a tight crimson suit that perfectly accented the muscular frame you were sure was underneath it.

“No need for the formalities, Ms. Plinth, just call me Coryo.” He responds, giving you (and your body) a quick glance in return. You want to blush at his actions, but you restrain yourself.

“Then call me Y/N, Coryo, Ms. Plinth is much too formal for me.” You bite back, cracking him a smile. He returns it, before turning to your brother.

“Mind if I borrow your sister for a dance, Sej?” He asks your brother, missing the wicked glare that Livia sends you. You’re not sure why she’s upset with you. You knew the President was a single man, which was a rarity in the politicians in Panem. But, you’re no where near his age range. He wouldn’t want you like that, right? He would want someone like Livia, perfect and his age.

“Of course not, thank you for being so kind to her. She’s a little overwhelmed with the gala, as is to be expected. She’s never been to one this formal before.” Sejanus tells Coryo, and you smile weakly, standing up, wobbling slightly in the heels that were a little too high for you.

Coriolanus rounds the table, grasping your hand lightly in his much larger one, leading you to the dance floor in the center of the room. He circles his arms around your waist easily, and you reach up to circle yours around his neck. He begins swaying you gently in time with the music before opening his mouth to speak.

“I don’t remember Sejanus mentioning that he had such a beautiful sister.” He whispers to you, leaning his head down so you could hear his words. He was well over a half a foot taller than you, even with you in your heels. That thought was dizzying.

You blush in response to his words, ducking your head. But you don’t stay that way for any more than a moment, as he brings two of his fingers under your chin, before lifting your chin up, to meet his gaze. “I mean it, dove. You’re simply stunning.”

The flattery was almost too sickly sweet, but you relished in it. “Thank you, Coryo.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, you had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the boys from the Academy thought you were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the President of Panem.

“You are very welcome, darling. Tell me, how old are you? I cannot remember your dear brother ever mentioning your age.” There it is, you thoughts begin ruining the moment, he will no longer be interested in you once he finds out you are so young.

“I just turned eighteen, I am set to become a student at the University in the fall.” You look into his eyes, expecting to see something, a wavering of interest, anything. But instead, you see nothing.

“I see.” Is all he says, continuing to sway to the music, holding you. His grip tightens lightly, as more people make their way to the dance floor, like he doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, some other man. Like anyone would dare attempt to snatch you away from the President of all people.

“I was expecting you to be a bit older,” He continues, giving you another look, throughly analyzing every part of your body, “Especially when Strabo mentioned to me a potential love match in his darling daughter.”

It’s like a bomb has gone off, shattering your world around you. Of course he wasn’t really interested in you, foolish girl, you think. It was set up, so you could finally find the suitable husband your father had been discussing since it had been deemed socially acceptable to do so.

“A potential… what?” You spat out, not harshly, just in surprise. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Love match, darling. But, you may be just a bit too young for me.” He tells you, shattering your heart just a bit. You knew he was too old for you, no matter the attraction you felt for him. Not to mention that your father was simply trying to better the position of the family name by attempting to marrying you off to him.

You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted Coriolanus, in ways a woman of your social standing shouldn’t. Especially given the age difference that was present between the two of you, however, there was no denying his pure masculine beauty. There was still that thought in the back of your mind that by engaging yourself with Coriolanus, you would be pleasing your father and his wishes for you. In this moment, you knew everything you felt about Coryo would override the disdain you had for pleasing your father.

“I’m not too young.” You almost whine back at him, a light pout forming on your lips as you stare into his impossibly blue eyes. You didn’t want him to see you as too young, you wanted him to see you as just another woman. Who cares that he was nearly ten years older than you?

“Is that so, princess?” He chastises you jokingly, before continuing, “You said you were eighteen, right?” He waits for you to nod, then resumes, “Well, do the arithmetic, little one. If I am twenty eight, and you are eighteen, that leaves us with a ten year difference.”

“I don’t care about that Coryo.” You find yourself frustrated. You wanted him, especially after all of the praise he had given you. Right now, in this moment, the ten years between the two of you didn’t matter. “I find myself rather attracted to you.” You tell him, honestly.

“Is that so, little one?” He asks, smirking at your words. He knew he could mold you into the perfect little wife, so young, so innocent still, unlike the women his age, who already knew what they wanted and simply wanted him for the money and glory that came along with marrying the President.

“Yes, please. I want you. My father was right, about the potential love match. Please, don’t leave me to marry some other man that isn’t twice the man that you are. I know I am young, but that doesn’t matter. I’m old enough to know what I want. Please, Coryo.”

You beg him, not sure exactly why you wanted him so bad. You had just really met him after all. But he was so attractive, so powerful. Something about him enticed you, and you didn’t want to let it go before anything could even potentially happen, before you could see where it progressed between the two of you.

“If you’re so sure, little one. However, this is a conversation we should have somewhere more private, away from prying eyes.” He tells you, raising your hopes ever so slightly. He wasn’t outwardly telling you no, and that you were absolutely too young for him.

Silently, he seizes swaying instead turning you so that you are pressed tightly to his side, one arm firmly grasped around your back, the other arm falling to his side as he led you out the doors to the ballroom, further into the Mansion, and into what you could only assume was his bedroom, gently closing and locking the door behind him, not unnoticed by you.

He is silent for a moment, before speaking, “You mentioned other men. You are going to be mine, little dove. No other men matter to you. I’ve been aware of your age this whole night, and your father and I have been discussing this chance meeting between us for some time now.”

You want to feel disappointed, or disgusted. Your father and Coriolanus, going behind your back, planning your future without a say from you. Planning when you would meet, when would be the right time. You had so many thoughts swirling in your head, it was overwhelming.

“How. Long.” You spat out at him, visibly upset. You wanted him, sure. But if he had been going behind your back, and truly knew of you well before you knew of him, you weren’t as sure. It felt almost predatory, knowing you were barely legal.

“Just over a year, darling.” His words made you want to vomit. Before you were legal. Your father, planning a marriage to a man ten years your senior, when you weren’t even legally able to be married, or have intercourse. You started to sway on your feet, feeling faint. You couldn’t believe it.

Coriolanus reached out a strong arm, steadying you, before grasping your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. With you sitting, and he standing, the height difference became even more pronounced. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, even when you did not want to.

“A year.” You started, thinking for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “My father has been meeting with you for a year, to discuss marriage. When I wasn’t even legal!” You yelled at him from your seated position, not feeling stable enough to attempt standing.

“I know it’s wrong, little one. And I am sorry. I only learned of you not being eighteen last night. This entire time, up until last night, I thought you were already eighteen, or older. Your father never mentioned your exact birthday, only that you were of marriage age.”

Your rage for Coriolanus dissipated, the only anger that remained was for your father. You couldn’t take it out on Coryo, who didn’t know you were underage for most of the planning, not until it didn’t matter. He was just as innocent as you.

“It’s alright.” You kept your statement concise, not sure what else to say, without bursting out into tears. You could already feel them welling in your eyes, and you begged them not to fall.

The tears didn’t do unnoticed by Coriolanus, who looks taken aback at the thought of you crying. “Don’t cry, little one. It’s alright, I assure you. I am going to give you some space, and some time alone. You are to wait here, however. I am not forcing you, but I would prefer we continue this conversation when you are ready.”

He leans down, and presses a small kiss against the crown of your head gently before making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob.

“Wait,” You start, tears starting to fall at the thought of him leaving you alone. “Stay, please.” You beg.

“Sweetheart, I can’t. I need to give you space to think. I don’t want to force this upon you.” He tells you honestly, turning the knob.

“But why?” You state, petulant like a child. The child that you still practically are. “Just stay here, with me. I’ve already made up my mind.” You say, standing back up onto your feet, making the few steps to the door, grasping his upper arm gently.

“I can’t.” He says simply, not moving. He looks almost conflicted on right or wrong in this moment. Your lip begins to wobble, as you think about him leaving you.

“But why, Coryo? I already made up my mind. My father may have hid the truth about my age from you, but I want you. Please.” You plead with him, willing him to stay in this room with you.

“I’m way too old for you, my love.” Coriolanus stops turning the knob, though. Standing, waiting for you to speak again. He had to at least partially hear you out, and he wanted to know your rationale.

“And what if I don’t care if you are far too old for me?” It was your last feeble attempt at getting him to stay. If he wanted to stay, it was up to him now. You weren’t going to plead with him, he was a grown man.

“I can see how much you would prefer it if I stay.” He says with a sigh, pulling you into his arms, his warm embrace surrounding you with a feeling you had never acted upon before.

“Coryo,” You whisper, “I want you. I want you so bad.” His eyes widen in surprise at your words, confused on what exactly you meant by wanting him.

“What do you mean, little one?” He doesn’t get the chance to do anything but whisper back that sentence before you were leaning up on your tiptoes, and your lips pressed against his, hard. He doesn’t fight you, quickly kissing back.

He adjusts you so that your back is up against the door, and your fronts are pressed together tightly, without breaking the kiss. He runs his hand along the curves of your waist, before bringing his hands to cup your ass lightly. You let out a gasp, and he uses that to his advantage and slips his tongue into your mouth, tongues tangling.

He then drops his hands to below your knees, sweeping you into his arms, and carrying you back to the bed. He disconnects the kiss, with a whine falling from your lips, lightly setting you down on the bed.

“Are you sure, little dove? I can stop if you aren’t sure.” You appreciated his concern in this moment, but all you wanted was him. You vocalized that to him, and he smiled. He pulled you, so that your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed, where he was still standing. Getting down on his knees at your feet, he gently unbuckled the heel, and removed it from your foot, one foot at a time. As he removed the shoe, he ran a hand over the soft skin, before pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot.

He kissed his way up your legs, up to your thighs, being met with the skirt of your dress. He flipped the skirt up, over your hips, and met your eyes again as his hands made their way to the edge of your underwear.

“Still alright, little one?” He asked, thumbs in the band of the underwear, waiting for permission to pull them down. You nodded at him, with a weak grin. Coriolanus smiled back at you, before pulling the panties down your legs, over your ankles.

He spread your legs, so that your wet heat was visible to him. He grinned, before leaning down and licking a teasing stripe up your pussy, You moaned lewdly, legs closing around his head, locking him in place. He continued his broad licks, eventually moving to circle your clit until you were twitching. He stuck his tongue inside of your hole a few times, and that was enough. You gushed around his tongue, quickly becoming overstimulated and pushing his head away.

As he brought his head out from between your thighs, you noticed his face was covered in your juices, and you laughed. He cracked a smile at you, allowing you to breathe for a few moments together. He gently helped you to your feet, to your confusion for a moment, until he spun you so that he could unzip your dress.

Once you were fully bared to him, dress gently placed on a chair in the corner, he began to undress for you. The suit jacket first, then the button up, revealing his pale yet well formed chest that had you licking your lips in anticipation. His shoes were toed off, and socks removed too. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly before removing his slacks and boxers, cock springing up, very obviously hard, the tip nearly purple as he looked at you.

You felt intimidated. You were a virgin, and his cock was so long, and so thick. You knew it was going to hurt, and you hoped he wouldn’t let it hurt you too bad.

“Coryo,” You whispered, “I’m a virgin.” He stopped, and looked you directly in the eyes.

“That’s alright, little one. I’ll be careful, so so gentle. I promise.” He tells you earnestly, and you smile at him, nodding. You trusted him, he had never lied to you before, not willingly.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, before climbing on top of you, his strong forearms next to your head. He grabbed his cock, positioning it with your hole, before gently beginning to push in.

You flinched at the intrusion, body wincing at the pain from his cock splitting you open. Tears sprung back into your eyes, and he stopped pushing in, giving you a moment to adjust. He kissed you, making out lightly for a moment.

“You can keep going.” You said, breaking the kiss. You hissed as he kept pushing, but eventually, he was fully sheathed inside of you, and the sting had dulled down to a pressure inside of you. You looked down, and you could see a faint outline of his cock on your stomach and you smirked.

“Look, darling.” You directed him to where you were looking and he smirked back at you.

“Look at you, little one. Your body is taking me so beautifully.” He responded beginning slow, thrusts in and out, keeping tempo.

“Please, Coryo. More!” You begged him, and he began thrusting faster, pressing into a spot inside of you that made you see stars. You moaned loudly at that feeling, his cock slamming into it every time he thrust back in. You couldn’t stop letting out little noises of pleasure, it felt too good. He let out little grunts too, praising you for taking him so well, being such a good little girl.

“Rub your clit for me, darling.” He directed you, breathing becoming heavier, thrusts more erratic. You could tell he was close, but you wanted to orgasm with him. You rubbed your clit harshly, moaning, and tightening around his cock.

“I’m so close!” You cried out, circling faster as he continued to pound in and out of you.

“As am I, little one.” He grunted back. “Come for me, darling. I’ll come for you.”

You allowed yourself to come, soaking his cock with his juices, and he spurted deep inside of you. He groaned as he pulled out, immediately missing the tight warmth of your cunt.

“You did fantastic, love.” He tells you, falling nearly on top of you, worn from the excursion. You gently scratch his scalp with your fingers, soothing him.

“I should be telling you that,” You laugh, continuing to massage his head.

“You are mine now, darling.” He grunts, completely blissed out, resting his head on your chest. “Age does not matter to me, little one.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “I am to be yours, forever.”

“Mine.” He agrees. You don’t say anything back, basking in the afterglow. After tonight, you know that your future plans have shifted, and you couldn’t find it in you to care. You still had that independent woman in you, but now, with a powerful man by your side. You’d found yourself a wonderful man in the President of Panem, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.

©keeplcving 2024. please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me requests! :)

[nosyp]

Crowned by Desire

Chapter 1

A/N = This was inspired by @kupidachillea, pls check out her work too🙏

Warning = dark, yandere, toxic stuff, read at ur own risk PLEASE

Pairings = Greek Gods x reader

Summary = Thrown into the realm of gods, you become the center of their dangerous intrigue. Some see you as a temptation, others as a threat... but what will you become in their immortal world?

Word count = 1.2k words

Story down below 👇 (READ AT UR OWN RISK PLEASEEEE)

You were beautiful. Your life was pretty much amazing. You had food, shelter and clothes, you pretty much had everything you needed. Oh how you wished you could go back…

It all changed when you found yourself trapped in the realm of the gods.

At first, you thought it was a dream. One minute, you were walking down the street, the sun shining on your face, a soft breeze ruffling your hair. The next, a wave of blinding light enveloped you, pulling you into a world far beyond your understanding. This place wasn’t like Earth. It was something ancient, untouchable, dark.

You took a step forward. And another, and another. One foot after the other, you gradually got closer. You could hear a cacophony of voices behind the door. And finally… using all your might, you pushed the door open… only to reveal a whole new area. 

And it was… the gods.

At first, you couldn't believe your eyes. The moment you stepped through the threshold, you were met with a huge palace, glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Columns of gold and marble stretched high into the heavens, and the air buzzed with an unnatural energy. It was one that made you feel small, insignificant. 

The gods were real. They weren’t just stories and myths from a book. They were here, in front of you, with… their eyes trained on you like a hungry pack of wolves waiting for their prey.

Apollo, the ever-so-radiant god of the sun, was the first to approach. His golden hair shimmered with every move of his very being, and his eyes, those eyes… saw right through you, as if he could read every thought and desire in your mind. He smiled at you, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. "Ah, a new guest," he murmured, voice smooth like honey, but with an edge of something darker beneath. "How... quaint. Who might you be?"

You opened your mouth to say something, to demand an explanation, but the words died in your throat. Then the moment you tried to open your mouth, Zeus just had to make his presence known with a thunderous clap. The room seemed to shake as he stepped forward, his large, commanding figure overshadowing everyone around him. His gaze was both terrifying and enthralling as he took you in with an almost imperceptible smirk.

"You don't belong here," he rumbled, his voice a mixture of power and amusement. "You should go, while we still let you."

Before you could even respond, another God appeared from behind you. Hades. His eyes were like two burning embers, glowing with a strange intensity. He observed you with the same cool detachment he reserved for souls, but something in his gaze made your breath hitch.

“Wait! I think we should… keep them,” he says, with a peculiar tone.

What the? Why would they want to keep you? You were practically nothing compared to them.

Eros, the god of love, smirked as he walked past, brushing a finger along your cheek. A shiver ran down your spine. "Don’t you see? She’s special," he said with a chuckle, his voice smooth but edged with cruelty. "In a world of gods, she’s a rarity. The temptation, the ultimate prize." His lips twisted into something wicked, a stark contrast to the sweetness his domain implied.

The temptation? Your heart pounded as you silently questioned his words. What did he mean?

Before you could dwell on it, a sharp voice echoed through the grand hall, shaking you to your core.

“WHO IS THAT?”

All heads turned toward the staircase. Hera stood at the top, her figure illuminated by the divine glow of the palace. Her presence was intense, her piercing gaze like a blade.

Her finger pointed directly at you, her voice dripping with venom. "Who dares bring that... thing here?"

The room tensed. You swallowed hard, heat rising to your face as Hera's fury bore down on you.

“Woah, woah! Wait a second,” Hermes interjected, stepping forward with his usual carefree grin and a mock air of surrender. “Let’s not go burning the palace down just yet, Hera.”

His attempt at humor fell flat. Hera’s sharp gaze flicked to him, silencing whatever joke he was about to follow up with.

Your mouth acted before your brain could catch up. "Y-Yeah, Hera... maybe there’s been a misunderstanding?” You winced at how small your voice sounded, but what else could you do?

Her eyes snapped back to you, fiery and unrelenting. "Silence!"

The room was silent for a moment, the air crackling with unspoken energy. Hera’s piercing glare held steady, but it was clear the others were pondering what to do with you.

Zeus stepped forward, his imposing frame radiating authority. "Enough," he commanded, his thunderous voice cutting through the tension. "This mortal is here, whether by fate or folly. The question is… what shall we do with her?"

His words sparked a ripple of murmurs among the gods. Some exchanged curious glances, while others looked at you like a puzzle to be solved—or prey to be devoured.

"Send her back," Hera snapped, her tone sharp and unyielding. "She’s a nuisance at best, a danger at worst."

"Now, now," Dionysus chimed in with a sly grin, stepping closer to you. His gaze lingered in a way that made your skin crawl. "Why waste such… potential? What if we kept her?" He tilted his head, feigning innocence, though the glint in his eye betrayed darker intentions. "As a servant... or perhaps a plaything?"

Your heart dropped. Plaything? You took an instinctive step back, your hands trembling at your sides.

Hades, who had remained silent up until now, raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Interesting suggestion," he mused, his voice low and smooth. "But a mortal in our realm... as anything more than a servant? It’s unprecedented."

Apollo leaned casually against a nearby pillar, his golden aura shimmering faintly. "Unprecedented doesn’t mean impossible," he said, his voice laced with amusement. His gaze flickered to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "She could prove... entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Hera’s voice was practically a roar, her fury reigniting. "You would reduce our divine realm to a circus for a mortal?"

Hermes cut in, raising his hands in mock surrender once more. "Relax, Hera. We’re just brainstorming here. No one’s decided anything… yet."

"But I think we all agree on one thing," Zeus interjected, his booming voice silencing the growing bickering. His eyes locked onto you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "She’s not leaving. Not yet."

The room went still. Every gaze turned to you, their collective attention making your breath hitch.

"Let’s see," Zeus continued, his tone contemplative. "Perhaps she can prove her worth. If she’s to remain here, she’ll need to serve a purpose. A servant, a messenger... or something else entirely." His smile widened, but it wasn’t comforting. "Let’s see what fate has in store for our unexpected guest."

A/N = I'm probs js gonna short-short chapters for this series... PLS FEEDBACK IF U CAN

[bruciemilf]

Having so many de aged! Jason feelings. I might just burst.

Dick and Tim theorize on how a small, happy little baby winded up in Jason's apartment. It's no secret their brother, a wall of bulk with a tender core, houses the homeless sometimes.

Maybe the baby is someone's? But if so, why was he alone? Jason isn't exactly famous for his unquestionable wisdom, but he's too caring to leave a defenceless infant by himself.

More importantly, why is this baby rolling on his tummy on a familiar brown jacket, evidently craving to be picked up?

"Can you take him? I'm not..." Tim's not good with kids; It's a running joke among them. Even If there's nothing comical about this.

Dick nods. His pride does swell when the baby giggles and coos.

"He has good taste."

" Okay, Narcissus. Let's take him home before your head pops,'' was Tim just a tiny bit jealous this little chubby cheeked thing was snuggling close to Dick, while downright glowering at him?

Maybe. A little. But babies were glorified chunks of meat, shaped just enough like a human to be considered cute. What did they know?

So they get home. It's a pleasant rarity, but they're all in one place.

All except Bruce, of course. Too busy bleeding on the streets to spend any time with them, Dick huffs,

Poor Damian is trying to jump and leap amongst them giants, struggling to take a peek at their young guest, " Grayson! I want the baby!"

" He's not a toy, Dami," they all share a silent look, clearly thinking the same thing. He got it from Bruce,

"What does it do?"

" He's a baby, Steph. He's not even aware he exists!"

" God I wish that were me,"

Duke looks at Babybird, as Dick affectionately took to calling him, with a strange, quizzical look, " He looks familiar. You said you found him at Jay's?"

" Yeah, but I'm taking him to a firestation. I just had to show B. You know he likes volunteering at daycares. Maybe he'll recognize him."

" Recognize who?"

Babybird was chewing on his own foot when the elevator doors slid open. Cass wasn't a wordsmith.

She read movements and actions as one listens to music.

Every member of her beloved family was a song of their own; Dick was motivational and calming.

Stephanie was packed with action, brimming with electrifying energy that just made you want to jump.

Tim was clean and precise with accents of pop. Duke was light and happy and silently confident. Damian was angry, and passionate and brave.

Bruce was powerful, sad, and perfectly tragic.

But when Babybird shrieked, yelled out in happiness and excitement and tried to wiggle out of Dick's arms with a sunshine beam and grabby hands?

Her father was a love song.

"Jay," The name sounds like Bruce is choking. His eyes are burning with tears, marching directly to Dick, " Jay? Jay!"

" Wh--"

"Dada!" Babybird, -- Jason? They only now noticed the white curl bouncing on top of his head, ( their inner detectives groan) " Dadadada, pap papi pap,"

They can't do anything, frozen in place, as Bruce spends the following two hours planting a garden of kisses on Jason's cheeks, full with laughter, while they read and color and build blocks.

"Uh, Bruce? I'm...I'm gonna call Zatanna."

" In a minute."

" DAD, --"

" In a minute."

It wasn't just a minute. It was an entire week.

As ridiculous as it was? They were starting to get jealous.

[ponydoodles]

Rarity sewing a gown for her wife Luna 👉👈

( guest art by @candyopals on here and twitter! )

[huntfordaybreak]

love languages with skz 💕

part 1 - quality time

hyung line - maknae line

warnings: some angst for han and felix, otherwise fluff

a/n: the 7th Door is a real (and fancy) restaurant in Seoul!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 .✦

han

There were some things that you learned about Jisung only after being together for a while (the kind of toothpaste he likes, the way he folds his shirts), and there are some things that had been clear to you right away – one of those being that he has a terrible poker face and you can read him like an open book. If he felt great, he would smile one of the smiles that nearly split his face in half and would hum and whistle constantly to himself. If he felt bad, it would be clear on his features; even the way he held himself would seem heavy and slow.

Today, you noticed, fit squarely into the latter category.

You heard the door to your apartment close, but your name didn’t ring out from the hallway, nor did you hear any whistling. Before you had a chance to get up from the couch, you felt his arms around your shoulders and his head drop to meet your shoulders.

“Ji?,” you tried, putting down your phone and raising your hands to grasp at his arms. He mumbled something you couldn’t make out, but he let you go and made his way around the couch to drop down next to you. He pushed up close to you again, his eyes downcast. You adjusted your posture to fit into his side as best you could and wrapped your arm around his middle.

“Bad day?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He made a little noise in response. “Just tired. Long day. And I know you wanted to look at stuff for the guest bedroom tonight, but..”

You turned to face him, and his expression – dark eyes hidden partly behind his bangs – softened slightly. You smiled in a way you hoped was comforting. “Jisung, the guest bedroom is going to be there tomorrow and next week and the week after that as well. How about you get changed into something comfy, we order some takeout, and we watch that horror movie you mentioned the other day?”

Jisung gave you a tiny smile, squeezing you tightly. “Are you sure? I know we’re busy next week…”

You kissed him gently on his nose. “Ji, I’ll always be sure about spending time with you, especially if it means I get to cuddle you for a few hours.”

From the wonderful shade of pink that his cheeks turned, you guessed that was plans for tonight decided. And honestly, you were quite content.

felix

When you and Felix officially got together, you had ambitiously agreed to have date nights once a week. For the first few months, you made it work – but after a few occasions during which one (or both!) of you started nodding off halfway through the evening, you decided to reclaim some sleep and push your dates to once every two weeks. Two weeks turned into a month, and recently, even that had been a rarity.

Needless to say, you had been feeling more or less like you two were roommates that happened to share the same bed.

You were waiting outside of a dessert café you wanted to visit together; Felix was now nearly an hour late. A chilly wind was pulling at your coat and you had been fiddling with your phone aimlessly as you waited, unwilling to head home and give up on this rare opportunity to be together uninterrupted.

Finally, after another 30 minutes passed, you sighed and gathered your things to leave. You wondered how to adjust, how much you were willing to give; you knew he meant no harm, but you also couldn’t deny you felt lonely and isolated.

When you were nearly home, you heard a familiar voice call out your name – turning on your heel, you saw Felix half-running towards you from the car that had just dropped him off. He came to a halt in front of you, breathless, the look on his face pained.

“(Y/N),” he began, “I am so sorry – we went to the café but I didn’t see you, so we just managed to find you – the shoot ran really late, and a light broke so we had to wait even more and -”

“Felix, it’s okay,” you cut him off, though your voice wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be. “We’re almost home, let’s just head back. We have to get groceries and stuff as well, and we both have an early day tomorrow, so…”

You started walking back to the apartment, Felix trailing behind. You could hear his boots dragging across the pavement.

Suddenly, you felt his hand around your wrist, as he gently pulled you towards him. You turned to face him, but kept your gaze fixed on your shoes, feeling like you might cry if you looked at him.

His hand left your wrist to tilt your face up to meet his eyes as he took another step closer to you.

“Please listen to me, (Y/N), I’m really sorry for disappointing you. I know I can’t make an excuse here, I should have been there. Will you allow me take us back to town? I’m pretty sure that collab at the café is ending this weekend.”

You gave him a watery but genuine smile.

“You’re paying.”

“Anything you want, darling.”

seungmin

Seungmin was a man of routine, through and through. You were amazed by his ability to structure his work and keep track of his development and habits on a daily basis; he had started long before you met him, and it had become a way of life you had easily fit into.

That meant, however, that Seungmin – intelligent and perceptive Seungmin– was really hard to surprise. Even more so if it significantly cut into a predetermined schedule he had. But it was nothing a bit of conspiring with Chan couldn’t fix, who always seemed beyond delighted to do anything to mess with Seungmin.

This is how you found yourself on a Friday afternoon, waiting alone in a recording booth with a large envelope in your left hand, your right hand wrapped around the edge of your seat. You felt strangely nervous for some reason. The bunch of balloons you had wrestled into the booth with you seemed silly all of a sudden, and you self-consciously wondered if he would be thrown off by springing this on him.

After a few more agonizing minutes, the door to the booth creaked open – you caught a brief glimpse of Chan giving you a thumbs up, but right away, Seungmin walked into the room, carrying a clipboard with recording notes. He immediately halted, eyes uncharacteristically wide as he took in your form with the balloons brushing up against the ceiling.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” he said (you mentally celebrated, because he really did look surprised).

Seungmin put down the bottle he was holding in his other hand - the ginger-honey drink you made for him in the morning, you realized, and the tension left your body immediately.

You stood up and held out the envelope to him, unable to fight the smile on your face.

“I know you have been really busy lately, and I’m really proud of you, so I wanted to take you out tonight… Chan told you that you still had one more recording session, but uh, he lied. He already got all the takes he needed,” you started as he carefully opened the envelope. His eyes quickly scanned the words on the card you wrote. Voucher for K. Seungmin to a) go test out that Alvarez guitar he has been eyeing for ages, b) attend dinner at 07:30 PM with the undersigned at 7th Door, and c) consume at least one scoop of gelato afterwards. Valid until: literally today, you can’t get out of this.

At the bottom of the card, you had artfully added your own signature and a dotted line for him to add his.

He looked up at you disbelievingly at first, but then the surprise made way for something more like adoration – a sight you would never get used to as you immediately felt the need to sit down again. Smiling, he asked: “(Y/N), are you asking me on a date right now?”

“So what if I am?”

Reaching his arms around you and clasping them behind your waist, he looked straight into your eyes, unwavering. “Then I would say yes, of course I will go, so let’s get out of here right away.”

i.n.

You loved nothing more than meeting up with Jeongin somewhere and getting there first, just so you could see his wide smile appear once he noticed you. Jeongin could be pretty reserved in public, but his face always, always betrayed him as he quickened his pace towards you. Today you were headed out to find a new pair of shoes to wear to accompany him to a rather fancy brand event, and you had insisted he come along to give his expert opinion.

To be honest, you would take him along even if he had nothing useful to add to your try-on sessions (as you noticed was usually the case with the row of grumpy-looking boyfriends parked in front of the dressing rooms). But Jeongin was a genuinely insightful partner who not only liked clothes, but who you felt knew your taste better than you did yourself.

Both of you were picky, though, so after about an hour, you had not yet found something you liked enough to consider buying. Feeling a little guilty for spending a nice sunny afternoon in an indoor mall, you paused in fastening the buckle of a strappy pair of dark green heels, sitting in the spacious dressing room with the curtain drawn back.

You looked up at Jeongin, who immediately made eye contact with you; his smile – smaller this time, more private – came back to his face.

“Innie, aren’t you bored sitting out there all this time? I’m sorry this is taking so long,” you said, shifting your weight on the stool.

In response, he stood up, stepped inside the dressing room with you, and knelt before you. His long fingers finished closing the buckle, the metal of his rings brushing over your ankle. You shivered involuntarily.

“Are you kidding me? I get to sit here and look at you constantly without anyone judging,” he said with a more lopsided smile, his eyes full of mischief.

He slowly stood up again and sat back in the designated boyfriend chair. Your face had to be burning at this point, shoes mostly forgotten.

Ever the fair judge, his expression unchanging, he said: “Also, dark green isn’t gonna work. I’ll find you a burgundy pair.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 .✦

@ huntfordaybreak - do not repost

if you are interested in being on a taglist for the other installations of this series, feel free to let me know!

[misfxts]

[ FRIENDS ]: the sender, unable to attend directly, sends friends over to protect the receiver when they encounter a threat.

except it’s Rene sending Agni (and a bunch of Murkrows) to help Iris—

Right place, right time. @brrnedoutbrrista

[ FRIENDS ]: the sender, unable to attend directly, sends friends over to protect the receiver when they encounter a threat.

Iris currently stands between a group of thugs and a small group of Shiny Pokemon that came out from the woods, her heart thrummed loudly down her ears and neck but she stood firm with her arms out wide to either side of her.

Damn, she should have known that word surely had gotten around that the Rarity Child, the human shiny charm herself was in Jalur. It wasn't uncommon that Iris had been approached by poachers and the like for her abilities-- she'd swiftly alert the police, but that didn't stop them.

"Oooh, look at this little princess boys! Thinks she's a real fuckin' girl boss that can take us down with some stern words!" The leader of the thugs barks out, his cronies cackling in response, he turns to look at Iris. "Listen lady, you're all over social media, I know you got a bunch of baby Pokemon that can only do those fancy shows you do-- except for maybe that Luxray.. buut one of my boys here got a mean lookin' Donphan with an' even meaner earthquake soo... checkmate."

The leader begins walking forward, the rest of his team following but Iris stands firm.. even when the leader was face to face, staring right down at her.

"..Move. I'm not gonna ask again."

Iris shakes her head.

The leader sighs, rolling his shoulders. "..Fine. You asked for it, bitch."

That was all the warning Iris got before the man cracked a punch so hard it slammed her body into the ground, her head was spinning.. hard to see..

"It's five of us against one of you, and I don't see anyone coming to save the little baby of the Adelaide Family.. no one is coming for you, Princess."

[sweetestofbelles]

Sweetie, what in Luna's fine dark flanks is going on and why is my wife's name being brought into it?

"Fret not, it's a silly little game the anons and the crusaders are playing. They've named me 'Elder Diamond."