#there will probably be more on this eventually

[hencheri]

young lust

18+ mdni.

You want Mark so badly, but he thinks you’re too young for him. With a little more convincing though, he eventually gives you what you want— in a less than gentle way.

pairing: rapper!mark x fem!reader

warnings: mean mean mean mark!!, legal age gap, noncon/dubcon, degradation, reader is mean to mark as well oops, unprotected sex, choking.

a.n.: this is just self-serving atp. hope it serves y'all too <3

.

Mark thinks he’s never been eye-fucked this hard before. He’s flattered, of course, but something’s off. 

You’re hot and very tempting, too, there’s no need in denying that. The little dress you’re wearing clings to your ass and he honestly can’t stop looking at it, especially with your back turned to him, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to meet Mark’s eyes. 

Your gaze is so obviously flirtatious, you don’t even try to be subtle. The finger stuck between your teeth and the look you send him tell Mark everything he needs to know; you want him as much as he wants you. 

He imagines your smaller body pressed against the bathroom wall, his hips clashing against your ass roughly, listening to your moans muffled by the loud music playing throughout the club. He sees it, that slutty mouth chanting his name like a prayer as he gropes your breasts with his palms through your dress. 

Mark looks at you before taking a sip from his alcoholic drink, then shifts his gaze back to Jisung standing in front of him.

“You know each other?” 

He’s taken off guard by the question, taking a second to respond. 

“Uh, no,” he thinks about what to say, but he really doesn’t have a clue on how to explain this… exchange. “We… we don’t.” 

Jisung sports a perplexed yet amused expression on his face. “So where is all that tension coming from?”

Mark raises a brow, eyeing you one last time, but you’re not looking at him anymore. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits, a faint smirk drawing on his lips. “Do you know her?” Mark asks in return, a little curious. 

He won’t lie that he likes the mystery of all this, not knowing who you are adds to the desire, to the inexplicable lust that draws him to you. He wants to mess around, do what he wishes just because he can. And that includes you. He wants to do you so bad. 

“Yeah, of course, we’re in the same company,” Jisung tells him, “she’s in this new girl group, you know. Up in the charts, just right under you,” his friend grins, looking at Mark to see his reaction.

He’s surprised for a second, uttering a “really?” and Jisung nods his head as a yes. 

Mark never pays attention to the charts, even though he gets reminded of them practically everyday. He’s aware of his success—way too aware of it—but he’s not the artist obsessed with numbers. He knows he makes good music and it’s all that matters to him. 

“I don’t know how you still haven’t heard of them already,” Jisung continues, “of her, especially.” He tilts his head in your direction, now both men’s attention on you. “Everyone’s fond of her.”

“Are you?” Mark wonders, narrowing his eyes at his friend. 

“Sure,” Jisung agrees, “she’s a sweetheart. Seems down to earth, for the few times we’ve talked.” 

This intrigues Mark. Does a sweetheart usually act so slutty with strangers? Perhaps he’s not a stranger to you, you very probably know him—everybody does—but he doesn’t think he’s ever gotten a girl this bold with him. And surely not someone who’s proclaimed to be a sweetheart, in this industry where anything opposite to pureness is unacceptable. 

He can feel your gaze on him now and he doesn’t hesitate to lock eyes with you once again. You laugh at whatever the person you’re talking to said, almost having Mark envious for not being the one making you laugh right now. 

You’re good at this, he thinks. Really good. Staring straight into his eyes, making him feel like he’s the centre of your attention when in reality you’re talking with someone else. If he could, he would take you with him, bring you to his car and fuck you directly onto his shiny leather seats, door wide open. He knows you’d love it. 

“Is she your age?” he says, taking a sip of his drink, eyes still on you until he hears Jisung’s answer.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” his friend responds, “younger, in fact.” 

He immediately breaks eye-contact with you, looking back at Jisung. Mark feels his heart starting to beat a little faster, suddenly anxious. Or is it embarrassment? Concern? Whatever it is, the desire he once felt, has now shifted. 

“What? How old?”

“Well, I’m not sure, Mark. 21, maybe?” Jisung frowns, trying to recall what you’d told him, but it wasn't information he really registered back then. 

Mark gulps down. He knew something was off, why didn’t he listen to his intuition?

He’s 25 and you’re 4 years younger than him. You’re barely an adult. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now,” Jisung chuckles, noticing the deflated expression on his face. 

“Barely.” 

He empties his glass, settling it down on the counter near him after. He tells Jisung he’ll come back in 5, heading for the bathrooms. 

—-

Mark washes his hands in the sink, drying them off with a towel. He looks at himself in the mirror, leaning over the counter. The music is loud, making the ground vibrate under his feet, making it almost impossible for him to think. Maybe it’s a good thing, he can’t overthink, then. 

“You’ve abandoned me,” he hears a voice saying, lifting up his head just in time to see you entering the bathrooms. “I was wondering where you’ve been gone…” 

Your voice is as sultry as your eyes, as sensual as your body in this ridiculously tight dress. He can’t help but wander his eyes over your figure, looking at what now feels so immoral. If it wasn’t for that—morality—he wouldn’t stop himself from taking you right here and there, but something has to stop him. 

If nothing ever does, god knows all the things he would’ve done since now. 

You approach Mark with slow steps, a teasing smile on your lips, a very precise idea in mind. He wants to back away, leave, forget about everything, but he doesn’t. He’s curious, tempted. 

“Or maybe that’s where you wanted me to be?” you grin, putting your hand around his bicep, the other leaning on top of the counter. 

He stares back at you, unconvinced. “I was about to leave,” he explains, and he sees the glint in your eyes changing. You don’t like rejection. 

“Really?” you utter, the tone of your voice a pitch higher— sounding somewhat bitter. “I swore there was something between us… With the way you were looking at me,” you say, your hand lingering on his arm before removing it. “Do you often look at women like you want to fuck them and then leave them, Mark?”

This confirms that you know him. For some reason, he feels uneasy about the fact that he knows nothing about you but you know all about him. 

You get even closer, only a few centimetres before your body touches him. 

Truthfully, you were the only ever girl he was about to do this to. It didn’t feel like a big deal when he thought about it, but now that he’s been caught, he feels a little guilty. 

“I didn’t take you for a coward,” you whisper.

Mark arches his brow at that, wondering how in the hell did he get in such a situation. Getting called a coward by a brat? By a spoiled little girl who didn’t have to lift a finger for success to find her? 

“You should go back to your friends,” he carefully advises. 

But you find it funny, laughing softly. “So you are a coward, Mark Lee,” you mockingly say, tone condescending, tongue pressing behind your bottom teeth as his name leaves your mouth. “Are you afraid of something? Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into it?”

He keeps his hands away from you, as if the mere feeling of your skin under his fingertips would break down his barriers. He turns his head to the side, away from yours, as you roughly pull on his belt, your chest finally pressed down against his. 

“I know you want me,” you whine, “to touch me… Fuck me.” 

If he could only fall into temptation… Maybe it’d be easier to just follow his desires. Well, in the meantime it would be, but after? What if he regrets it? What if you regret it? He can’t sleep with every girl he sees. 

He never goes for anyone that is younger than him. Not that much, at least. What kind of man would he be? 

But goddamn, why are you so insistent? Why are you making it so difficult for him?

“You’re too young, okay?” 

You take a step back, letting go of him. Your eyebrows are frowned and you look at Mark like he’s the biggest idiot on earth. 

You scoff. “So that’s what you’re afraid of? My age?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, Mark turning his head toward you now that you’ve put some distance between you. 

“What did Jisung tell you?”

“That you’re 21,” he answers, wondering what you’re going to tell him. After all, what Jisung said could have been bullshit. He hopes, for a moment, that it was. 

Your lips quirk up, a chuckle leaving you. You look to the side then back to Mark. “I’m 20.”

His eyebrows knit together, annoyed that you find this funny again. What else can he expect from a 20 year old anyway? That you take this seriously? 

“You find this funny? Do you realize how much older I am?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “and that’s why it’s funny. You’re scared of what? A five year difference?”

You step forward again, but Mark backs away this time, hitting the counter behind him. 

“You’re a fucking puss,” you insult him, full of arrogance. 

But something you didn’t expect happens; Mark knocks his body into yours, making you stumble back as he follows you until your back is flushed against the bathroom stall. His hand goes fast to your neck, squeezing. 

He leans in, the expression on his face furious. He doesn’t feel guilty anymore.

“You act like a spoiled little bitch and you wonder why I don’t want you?” For the first time tonight, you’re speechless. His nose brushes over your temple, so close you feel his breath fanning across your face. “Fucking learn how to accept when people tell you no. Learn to shut your mouth from time to time because they won’t like your ass in this industry if you keep this entitled attitude up.”

You’re looking down as Mark’s eyes bore into your skull, blood creeping up to your cheeks. You gulp, not having a word to say in return. You’d rather not talk back.

He eventually lets go of you, turning around and walking out, leaving you alone and… turned on. 

—-

“Hi, Markie.”

The last person he expected to see when entering his studio is certainly you. The only person supposed to be here is Jisung, and yet, here you are, smiling, eyes glinting teasingly. 

He looks at you, then at Jisung, sitting in front of his computer. He turns around on the rolling chair, totally unfazed by the fact that he brought a stranger into Mark’s studio. 

“What is this?” 

“This?” you question, but he ignores you, walking straight to his friend.

“Uh, well, you’ve already met I believe, no?” Jisung asks, slightly confused. He says your name and it’s all it takes to irritate Mark. “She wanted to come see us work, learn a thing or two. I thought it was a great idea.”

Jisung’s innocence is a good thing sometimes, really. It’s refreshing, quite funny, too, but right now, Mark wishes he wasn’t so credulous all the damn time. 

“It didn’t come to you to, maybe, ask for my permission?” he whispers, leaning in so you don’t properly hear him. 

Jisung’s brows raise up, simply shrugging. “Not really,” he admits, “I thought it wouldn’t bother you. I told you, she’s a sweetheart, and she promised to not interrupt too much. Right?” Jisung turns to you and your smile gets bigger, bobbing your head. 

“Absolutely.”

Mark looks hard at you, not believing this one second. Has god sent you on this earth to test him? 

You stare back at him sweetly, and he swears, if it wasn’t for Jisung’s presence, Mark would have made you regret it. Bitterly. 

Surprisingly, you did keep your promise. You didn’t disturb them once, even pretending to care about what they were working on. You seemed close to Jisung, actually being kind to him, the total opposite of how you were behaving the other night. You’re good at playing pretend, Mark realizes. 

Your eyes were on him the entire time, though. You had the same look as he recalled, eye-fucking him right here in his studio. He was pissed off, to say the least, but he didn’t make a comment. That would’ve been weird to say anything in front of Jisung and the last thing he wants is him thinking there’s something happening between you two— because there’s nothing.

He just hoped the end of the day would come rapidly, and it did, to Mark’s relief. 

With Jisung and you gone, he can finally work peacefully, nobody undressing him with their eyes. 

That is until he comes back into his studio.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” 

He’s lost all of his patience to be respectful to you now. He really doesn’t give a shit. How can someone be so stubborn?

“Told Ji’ I was going to call a taxi,” you explain, getting up from the sofa you’ve been sitting on. “I lied,” you smirk. 

Mark blinks at you, too shocked to say anything. You use the opportunity to get closer, bringing him to you, and then pushing him onto the sofa behind him. 

“Call me ‘too young’ all you want, I recognize a pervert when I see one.”

You don’t think twice before straddling his lap, sitting down on his thighs. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and even though Mark sends you the most murderous glare in the world, he does nothing to push you away. 

Curiosity, temptation. 

“If you didn’t know my age, you would have fucked me right against the bathroom stall if I had asked you to,” you affirm confidently, and there’s truth behind your words. Of course there is, Mark knows what he thought of you at first— what position he imagined you in, the sounds you’d make.

“Get off of me,” Mark barks back, his frowned eyebrows giving him this angry look that you like so much. 

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Here I thought I was the whiny little one, but you’re whinier than I am, Markie.”

“I’m not fucking whining, I’m giving you an order.”

“Get me off then,” you propose, grabbing both of his wrists and putting his hands on your hips. “Go on, do it. Or are you too scared to touch me?” You provoke him further, knowing you’ll eventually make him break down, sooner or later. 

“You don’t want me to, believe me.”

His threat has you shivering… and excited. 

“Why’s that?” you wonder, subtly moving your hips over his lap. “You’re sure you’re not the little bitch, hm, Markie?”

You should have expected him to snap sooner, because the moment you say this, he pins you down on the couch, you underneath him. His hold on your wrists is nothing gentle and you can’t even move them. If before you felt like the master of your own game, well now you’ve lost all sense of power, being Mark’s puppet and not the opposite. 

You’re shocked. Scared.

His hand closes immediately around your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Be disrespectful to me once again and I’ll break your fucking jaw,” he spits at you. “Has anybody ever told you to respect your elders, huh? I bet fucking not,” he snorts, “I’ll teach you some manners myself.”

You don’t understand until he reaches under your skirt, pulling down on your panties. Your eyes widen, letting out whines of protest.

“Stop, stop!” you stress out, trying to grab Mark’s hands now that yours are free. 

But he merely laughs, probably the first time you’ve ever heard him. “Ah, now you want me to stop? After all the begging you did so I’d fuck you.”

Mark doesn’t stop, working on his belt, undoing his pants. 

Your heart accelerates, and despite the worried look on your face, your eyes starting to water, the turn of events please you all too much. 

You briefly fight with him, pushing on his chest like a little girl, whimpering pathetically. Mark stays unfazed, easily taking both of your wrists in one hand and pinning it down above your head. He grunts as he pushes his hard cock into you, a gasp escaping your lips as you feel your walls expanding. 

You blink multiple times, taking a deep breath, and the tears roll down the side of your face, disappearing into your hair. It burns, but you’re so wet. 

You ask yourself if Mark knows you’re faking it, but with how delighted he seems to be forcing himself on you, you doubt that he does. Whatever pleases him. 

“It hurts!” You cry out, wiggling your legs, attempting to close them—to no avail—while he pushes himself all the way inside of your pussy. 

Mark snickers. He couldn’t care less.

“Oh, it hurts?” You nod, gulping down. “Tell me why it hurts.”

He doesn’t wait to move his hips back and forth, using you for his own sick pleasure right away without any second thought. You wanted this. You asked for this. Why should he be careful of you now? You shouldn’t have been so eager. Shouldn’t have acted like such a slut. 

“It-” you begin, but a moan of pain cuts you off, Mark’s hips slapping violently against yours; it has your body moving up, your head hitting the armrest of the couch. “You’re- You’re too…”

“Am I going too rough on your virgin little cunt? Poor girl,” he coos, almost laughing in your face. “Too bad I don’t give a shit, huh?”

You sob out when he keeps on with the assault of his hips, his cock defiling your pussy like you’ve never imagined before. Mark knocks the air out of your lungs, panting heavily above you, his already short nails digging into the fat of your thigh. 

You squirm around, pulling on your wrists, none of your attempts are successful— not like you want them to be anyway, but giving Mark a little of a fight is more fun. 

“Please, Mark, I’m sorry,” you beg, lips trembling. 

His eyes, filled with lust and hate at the same time, lay on you. 

“You should’ve thought about it before pushing me over the edge, if it’s pity you wanted.”

[zeta-in-de-walls]

A quick timeline of Tommy and Dream's friendship.

Dream and Tommy streamed together and they had a good time so Dream invited him to his server. Tommy streamed on the DSMP server and there's where he and the server both started to really blow up. Tommy and Tubbo were 16 and Dream was 21. (Tommy was on around 250k on youtube when he joined the server and Dream was at like 4 mil).

Dream gave Tommy a bunch of youtube advice around this time as well and they got into lots of long night calls as they were both pretty hardworking and interested in making it big on youtube.

When Tommy and Dream streamed together their streams were very popular. Their comedy seemed to mesh really well but there was some underlying friction. Tommy is hugely sarcastic and plays minecraft very ironically. He would at times like to misinterpret what people said and then remind them that he's a minor. Some of these jokes were funny. A few were more grating for me personally (Eg I never liked the 'what's the worst word you know' jokes). But yeah this was purely comedy and Tommy loves to take the mick out of his friends. Also sometimes Dream and his friends did make the odd inappropriate joke.

Eventually the server and the fanbase got really big and people got super invested into the minecraft roleplay. Tommy and Dream's exile arc where Dream played a cruel villain and Tommy his victim was particularly notable creating a huge narrative around their characters' dynamic.

Then Tommy started to get burnt out on the server. Everyone was a bit. Dream was also rarely ever online not to mention other things going on. Whatever the case, the DSMP was coming to an end.

There had been plenty of drama amongst the CCs and Dream had been through plenty. The most famous was the speedrunning cheating scandal. There was also the manatreed thing. But allegations started coming out that Dream could not ignore. He'd apparently been sexting a minor. A few other stories came out too. And fans began distancing themselves from Dream. There was pressure on the CCs too.

However, Dream had convinced the server of a new vision: Dream SMP season 2!! Reset the server and do it all over again. End all the current plots as best you can and get ready for more!!! So they made a terrible ending of them blowing up the server.

And then a lot of CCs spoke out and said they didn't want to do DSMP season 2. It didn't feel right. Maybe because of the allegations, maybe because the plot sounded bad.

So Dream pulled the plug on the idea. Tommy was probably not best pleased that season 2 tanked so soon after the dark ending.

But Dream came up with a new idea. THE USMP. It would be an international server with live translation or something. All we know is that he had gotten Tommy on board and Tommy was excited by this. Tommy wanted to do another server with Dream still.

But yeah, the allegations hadn't gone away and a new drama surfaced. Quackity had plans for his own new SMP he was passionate about and Dream was threatened as it sounded so similar to his own plan. (They happened to have come up with the ideas independently.)

This erupted into drama as Quackity left Dream on read and didn't engage with him.

And Dream's server.... didn't happen. Again the server he'd promised Tommy didn't seem any closer to being realised. Just like in the DSMP, Dream wasn't shown to being much good at organising anything. The ending of the DSMP was badly managed because communication was so bad.

So as USMP wasn't happening, Tommy had been seeing what was happening, seeing both sides and wrote a skit. If youtubers were honest which made fun of Dream's response to Quackity given everything. Tommy was likely mad at the USMP's failure to manifest and also the internet was really turning against Dream. CCs in general didn't want to associate with him. Partially the allegations, but also he is a difficult CC to work with and Tommy was likely very aware having organised big videos and vlogs himself.

Dream was shocked by this video. He felt betrayed at Tommy and thought Tommy was being two-faced. Being sweet in private but milking him for views in public. So he became antagonistic towards Tommy.

At this point, Dream sent a DM to Tommy's mother complaining about him. Yeah.

Seeing Dream's crazy responses and also facing more wake-up calls about his teenage years with hindsight and the Wilbur situation, yeah Tommy was very happy to cut ties with Dream.

He didn't make a huge deal about it but he stopped making content with him and he and his friends would sometimes joke about him negatively, sometimes on his podcast, sometimes just jabs here and there. He and his community were both anti-Dream though he'd never made any public statements about it, or what happened. The history was fairly private.

Until now, Dream saw Tommy making fun of xQc and decided to lash out at him and his fanbase and air out every issue he's had over the last few years. Tommy responded, and made it very clear he's blocked Dream and they're done.

[marsian-tango]

Yandere Alien

Part 1

Yandere! Alien who’s been living with you for a few months now. It’s not easy living with an alien. You two are from completely different worlds, it’s a massive cultural shock for the both of you. He keeps talking about you being his bride, he can’t keep his hands to himself, and he just keeps trying to—what? Court you? Seduce you? You don’t even know anymore. This whole situation is just too weird.

Yandere! Alien who barely lets you out of the apartment. You’ve tried explaining to him that you can’t just stay home all the time, no matter how much he begs. You have a job, you need to go there sometimes to get money and provide for the two of you. Cause you know damn well he can’t go and do it himself. But he eventually accepts it, with a lot of tears involved in the process.

Yandere! Alien who has a phone now. You thought that the best way to check on him in case he does anything stupid is with a phone, and this also allows him to still be somehow connected with you, so it’s a win-win. But now you have to endure the hundreds of messages that he sends you throughout the day! He sends you memes that he finds funny, long paragraphs saying how much he misses you, a link to an ‘Alien x Reader’ fic—wait. What? This is how he spends his free time? Why is he even reading that?

Yandere! Alien who enjoys the midnight strolls that you take with him. You always show him new places, and never fail to make sure that it’s safe for him. He loves seeing all the bright neon lights, the big parks that are filled with colorful flowers and trees, and playing with the stray cats from the alleys you pass by. It’s very peaceful and intimate. Romantic even. He wishes he could take these same strolls during the day. It’s so unfair, he just wants to go out with his future bride in broad daylight, that’s not a crime! Would people really get that freaked out if they saw him? Really? He’s just a chill guy! Sure, he may have antennae, gray skin, and pointy ears. But he’s just like everybody else! Here, check him out. You’ll see just how much resemblance he has with male humans.

Yandere! Alien who’s been courting you ever since he met you, and you still haven’t reciprocated his feelings! He’s starting to get a bit impatient. He’s pretty sure he has seen every single rom-com there is, so why isn’t it working?! He cuddles you every night, makes you breakfast in the morning, he greets you with a kiss on your cheek when you come back from work. Ugh! He even ripped off his tracker chip from his body so no one on his planet would find him! Should he start courting you the way they do on his planet instead? You want him to behead your enemies and bring you their skin?

Yandere! Alien who on one hand knows that he can’t stop you from having friends and hanging out with them. But on the other hand he wants to stab them for taking you away from him. So he does the only logical thing, he breaks the one rule that you’ve asked him not to break. He leaves the apartment to stalk—make sure you’re okay! Can you blame him though? Those ‘friends’ of yours are a bunch of creeps. C’mon, why would a stinky human male hug you? That guy is probably trying to court you—why are you hugging him back?! No, nop, absolutely not. He cannot stand for this.

Yandere! Alien who carries you in his arms the second you get home, bringing you to your bedroom as you yell at him to let you go, kicking and pushing at him to try to break free. He ignores your failed attempts and mutes out your confused pries, finally letting you down on your bed. He pins you down to the mattress, getting on top of you to prevent you from escaping his hold. He’s tried so hard to show you just how much he wants you, needs you. You’re his savior, the person who takes care of him day after day. So why do you let other males get so close to you? But…this is on him. Perhaps he should’ve been clearer of his intentions, more assertive of his feelings. Oh, this has gone too far, he has to let you know exactly what he wants. There will be no doubts of his love for you when he’s done. He’ll make sure to show you all the love he has for you.

Yandere! Alien who caresses your skin so softly, as if he was afraid it would break. His hand creeping up under your shirt, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. You hope that you’re somehow misinterpreting the situation. You never thought that his approaches would’ve ended up in…this. All those times his hands grazed your waist when you passed by. When his touch would always linger a little too long. You didn’t think it would get to this, and look at you know.

Yandere! Alien who has kept you so busy ever since you met him, that you never had time to go on dates or meet new people. Now that you think about it, it’s been a while since you’ve relieved some stress. You certainly wouldn’t mind receiving some well needed attention. So…you can either let go of your common sense and enjoy yourself, with the knowledge that you’ll have to deal with an alien being ten times clingier than before and who will probably take this as your consent to getting married, or…just stick to your lucidity and turn him down…

Yandere! Alien who makes you forget you ever had common sense in the first place. C’mon, you have the right to have a good time, you’ll deal with the consequences later! So just lie down, relax, and let your lovely alien please you the way he knows how. That website he’s been watching has taught him all he needs to know about it. It really came in handy in the end, huh?

Yandere! Alien who will make you see stars.

Here it is! Part 2! I didn't think that the first part would get so many likes, so I kinda had to improvise this one. I know it's shorter than the first one, I just wanted to post something, anything. So I came up with this. I hope you like it. Thank you so much for all the support. Writting sure is difficult, but I really like it, and your support insipires me! Kisses <3

[keferon]

Ok so hear me out what if jazz dies inside prowl

What if it started with the whole shockwave thing and prowl stuck in the mecha base while jazz's inside him fighting Vortex and roddy with the help of deadlock

they are all distracted and stressed and neither prowl or jazz even notice

prowl is waiting for jazz to disconnect like the others after everything is done to go celebrate with the others but moments pass and nothing happens

So prowl calls jazz's name confused and notices how quiet he has become all of a sudden

But then prowl notices jazz's vitals and he also becomes quiet

Ratchet would probably notice the all friendly jazz not coming out to celebrate with the others and goes to prowl to call for jazz but notice prowl frozen in place and the look of horror on his face

Ratchet becomes concerned and calls for jazz again multipule times asking what's wrong, that end up shaking prowl at least of his frozen state

"Jazz.......his vitals.....they are gone"

Ratchet asks prowl what he means and prowl looking more distraught by the second would kneel down and open his chest compartment for ratchet who rushs to check on the kid and freezes once he notices the lack of pulse

Ratchet imediately calls for first aid to come help him and they drag jazz out to start cpr which was mostly out of pure despiration while prowl stares at jazz's unmoving body pretty much dissociating

He dosnt even notice it when they move jazz's body away from him he's just frozen there for who knows how long

Till he suddenly hears a weak voice that shocks him to his very spark

What am trying to get to is jazz's consciousness become stuck inside prowl for a while and prowl goes back to cybertron trying to look for any solution and they end uploading jazz's consciousness into a body with the help of wheeljack also probably percy n brainstorm aswell, brain is too deep fried rn to come up with all that yet tho

Now this is horrifying and I love it

I’m voting for letting Prowl be absolutely broken with grief at least a couple of hours before letting Jazz to talk to him. It would also let other Cybertronians a good dose of existential anxiety because they would look at Prowl and then at their humans and realise that this is what’s going to happen to all of them eventually.

….a bit unrelated thought but you know how like. In fanfics there’s this popular fanon of when two bots become Conjunx endura they join their sparks and their minds? Yeah. It looks like we are doing the same to our mecha JP but every step is severely angsty and dramatically weird.

Merging the sparks? Bam. Jazz now literally inside Prowl’s chest.

Merging minds? He is also inside Prowl’s head.

[dcxdpdabbles]

im kinda curious, in your freelance inventor au does the rest of Bruces exes know about his affection for Danny? since he hasnt been with anyone since meeting Danny? because id figure some of them would be chill about it but others would probably be jealous.

oh, they know.

Talia has actually tried to take him out (mostly because she worried he would eventually sire an heir with Bruce using science and Damian would lose his inheritance). She does respect him for his mind and skills, showing genuine remorse that she has to kill him. Then fails. For years.

Seline had a more on-and-off relationship, so she took the loss gracefully when he fell for Danny. They meet on the field and no longer flirt; it's more taunts between old friends. She offers to babysit whenever they go on dates, but the kids know it's just her attempting to steal from the Manor.

Vickie only cares to make a story out of it. She has been sniffing around for years with the theory that all his dates and his playboy image being behind him are to cover up his actual lover. She's right in the sense that Danny is unaware they are lovers. She's very bitter about how Bruce didn't want anything serious with her and is very jealous whenever a fake story about Bruce's new date pops up.

Harvey and Bruce were each other first boyfriends with the understatement that it was to try to figure out their sexualities with someone they trusted. Their relationship was more friends with benefits, but they did care for each other greatly. When he hears about Danny, he asks Bruce to visit him in Arkham to talk about it like good old times. Two-face even interrupts them to say that Danny is fortunate to have Bruce like him.

Bruce is very open about his bisexuality, but people think he's straight enough that it doesn't matter. They only focus on the women he's seen with, even if it's nothing romantic- like having a coffee with Diana when she visits or treating his PA to lunch with the rest of the team. Danny doesn't mind these stories because he knows they are fake. Bruce is not a playboy, and he thought his friend was also Ace for a long time.

[lemon-slushie]

YAYY REDESIGNS idk what happened to gingerbrave on the bottom lol

But yay new age ancient redesigns

Rough draft story undercut

Warning it is not great!! 😭 I’m not a writer and it probably has crazy plot holes and is lacking in places but I just wanted to get the idea down

The ancients have temporarily beat the beasts and sealed them away but they all know that they are still extremely powerful and won’t stay gone long, especially with the help of dark enchantress. Though the beasts are sealed away they are now awake and still have their powers, which is seeping from their prisons and attempting to effect the soul jams from the inside, which could cause the ancients decent into insanity like the beasts. All of the ancients know this is an extremely dire issue and can only ward off the beasts for so long.

After a lot of contemplation Pure vanilla figures there is only one option. They must remove the soul jams, giving them to someone else, and hiding them away in an old secluded area while they devise a plan. The ancients are some of the only people who can find a way to beat the beasts but if they are plagued by infected soul jams it could cause the beasts to take over and send the world into chaos. Giving the soul jams to another person is inhumane but if they removed them and left them unattended it could be more risky, if the soul jams are attached to another person it could also allow the ancients to see and study the changes of the person if the beasts do manage to start infecting the soul jams. Though if the soul jams do get infected this too could be dangerous. Pure vanilla recognizes this and creates 5 coffins similar to the one white lily was kept in, this would keep the replacements asleep and trapped. This would cause the infection to slow down and prevent the replacements from acting out or doing anything.

Pure vanilla feels guilty for whoever the replacements will be but ultimately decides there is no other way, if him and the other ancients are gone everything would be doomed. After finding a hidden spot far from any kingdoms and leads to where they could be, Pure vanilla needs help to prepare the coffins. He goes to white lily for help and explains the plan, she thinks for a moment but ultimately agrees with pure vanilla and helps him with the preparation. Together they call for a meeting with the other ancients at his castle. He explains the plan to them and hollyberry and dark cacao are the most against it, believing it to be cruel and unfair. Golden Cheese, though a bit hesitant, agree with pure vanilla as she cannot bare the thought of what’s left of her kingdom getting turned to ruins again and helps to persuade a reluctant hollyberry and cacao into agreeing.

They discuss who the soul jams should go to, believing it must go to someone trustworthy and understanding. Pure vanilla chooses clotted cream, as he believes clotted cream proved himself worthy during the odyssey. Dark cacao decides on dark choco, he feels incredibly guilty at the thought of seeking him away but rationalizes it with telling himself that dark choco would understand and could use it to prove himself as a true hero for helping against a great evil. Hollyberry considered pitaya but consider them to be too strong of an ally to seel away. Eventually she decides on her granddaughter, Princess. Princess is courageous and strong and hollyberry thinks she too would understand the weight of the situation the best. Golden cheese picks black raisin, as she connected with her deeply about loss and pushing foward after they dragged her out of the digital world, Golden believes black raisins selflessness would help her be understanding of why she must risk sacrificing herself. Finally, white lily decides on gingerbrave. All the other ancients are put off on her choosing a young kid but she truly believes that gingerbrave is one of the only people who can truly understand the light of freedom and is willing to do anything for his friends. (Also he’s the main character and always has to be involved)

After deciding on their replacements Pure vanilla calls them all to his castle for various different mundane reason as too not stire anything up and will explain to them why they are there after they have arrived. Once there pure vanilla will give them the “true” reason they were called there. (Dark choco has to be found and personal brought in by dark cacao cuz he’s currently living off the grid in the dark cacao forest, this will lead to developments in their relationship as their first encounter is awkward but heartfelt). He will explain that they were called to become the new ancients, as they have all long outgrown their positions and it is time for someone new to step up. The other ancients deeply disagreed with pure vanilla lying to the others but he stood firm on the decision, he feared if he was truthful they would reject and word would spread and send people into hysteria as the regular people who knew about the beasts are currently under the assumption they have been seeped away for good. After a while of convincing they all agree as they believe there is truly no other way.

The replacements arrive and gladly join Pure vanilla and the others in the meeting room. A few others have also come to the vanilla kingdom this being, financier to guard clotted cream as she always does, madeleine as he saw the two leaving and after questioning them decided to tag along (much to their dismay) to visit espresso, and wildberry to accompany Princess and also check in on Hollyberry as she’s been very hush hush and he feels something is going on behind the scenes. This is a bit inconvenient to the ancients as they can’t have any possible leads to what is happening but they decide they will just have to tag along on the mission as they can’t have them leaving, this also applies to current vanilla kingdom residents (espresso, strawberry crepe, and the raisin villagers). There can be no trace of the ancients or anyone involved, they must stay hidden as much as possible to avoid any attacks.

Pure vanillas gives them the lie and after a bit of shock and questioning they agree as it is a great honor. All except dark choco, he’s extremely hesitant and expresses that he is in no way fit for the soul jam after all that he’s done. Dark cacao disagrees with him after the vision he had with mystic flour and hearing about how he had help the milk village from the flour plague. He assures dark choco that he whole heartedly believes he has finally found himself and is truly ready for the role and will make a great leader. Dark Choco hesitates once more but with the encouragement of his father he agrees. Black raisin feels a bit nervous about the responsibility but completely trusts pure vanilla after all that they’ve been through and thinks it’ll be a great way to give back to him and care for her villagers. Princess is excited and proud to take after hollyberry and go on grand adventures as she did. Gingerbrave too feels nervous but is excited to help and become as great as the other ancients, he also believes this could help defeat dark enchantress, though since he’s a child he doesn’t completely understand the weight and reap of it all so he’s more excited than nervous. They remove the soul jams and hand them over, all of the soul jams connect to the new person except for one, clotted cream. The light of truth refuses to connect with clotted cream, the soul jam speaks to pure vanilla, refusing to go as it believes clotted cream will use the soul jam for personal benefits instead of a greater cause (like he planned to do in the odyssey as he clearly values his own republic more than anything). This does not sit well with the soul jam and it refuses clotted cream. This leads to an awkward stand still as Pure vanilla did not expect this and is unsure what to do. Clotted cream is extremely disappointed and embarrassed but comes up with a solution, offering up madeleine to use. Madeleine is high status in the republic but still under clotted cream and listens to his say, if madeleine wields the soul jam then it still gives clotted cream room to worm his way in and attempt to persuade madeleine in using it for the advancement of the republic. Pure vanilla agrees as he doesn’t have much of an option and madeleine is called in. The situation is explained and madeleine quickly declines, much to the surprise of clotted and financier. Madeleine comes up with a half assed explanation that his family is a generation of knight commanders and he can’t bring himself to break it. Though truthfully he doesn’t believe he could handle a role, he’s very full of himself but this is a front as is seen multiple times he’s very insecure and can be unsure of himself. Pure vanilla, getting a bit frustrated with the sudden change in plans continues to tell Madeleine that this is for the greater good along with clotted cream pressing him about how much this could help the republic to be better. Madeleine gives under the pressure and agrees. The soul jam connects with him (because he has crazy light blessing and doesn’t monopolize off of other people’s works) and they all get super cool transformations to awesome outfits and accessories (like when pure vanilla and hollyberry reconnected with their soul jams in story).

Pure vanilla then explains that they all must leave to “begin training and teaching the replacements how to harness and use the magic of the soul jams” but it’s a ploy to lead them far away from everything where they will be hidden away. He also makes up some excuse as to why even the people without soul jams must attend as the training and powers will also be useful for them to know once they return to their homes so they can help the new ancients if an attack occurs (they will not be returning home)

Once they all arrive to the hidden area (idfk know where it is there’s not really any abandoned places we know about so it’s gotta be unspecified unfortunately) the ancients begin training the replacements as they do not need to be seeker away immediately due to no effects from the beasts yet. Though the training is short and vague as the ancients spend most times trying to figure out how to defeat the beasts. The training though only tends to make the ancients feel worse as they connect with their replacements. This is particularly hard on dark cacao as he finally reconnects with his son and feels as if he’s making up for lost time but he constantly has a lump in his throat as the guilt eats at him for what he’s done and will have to do. This feeling only gets worse for dark cacao as dark choco begins opening up to him more. The replacements seem to be mostly adjusting well with some occasional anxiety of the new responsibility, particularly in madeleine who is struggling most with fear of failure and stains on his image along with clotted constantly in his ear about how important this all is for the republic putting more stress on him. Watching the training and seeing the replacements befriending each-other and trusting the ancients so greatly truly breaks his heart but he stays strong, constantly telling himself they’d understand if they knew. Black raisin is the one who quickly notices the odd shift in the ancients behavior, and while she becomes skeptical she tries to have faith in pure vanilla but she can’t shake a bad feeling. Princess is mostly happy to be spending time with her grandma and hear of all her adventures she had missed. And ginger brave is also there doing the main character stuff he does you know how it is.

Eventually the ancients notice the replacements begin to complain of feeling odd and random changes in behavior which means it’s time for them to go. They bring them to the coffins and it’s a disaster, the replacements are obviously horrified and deeply hurt causing them to act out more and panic which leads to them fighting back against the ancients. Along with family angst and betrayal and what not, but they haven’t fully gotten used to their power and lose to the ancients and are put away to sleep for whoever knows how long.

[retiredteabag]

Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, mentions on anxiety.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been partnered with Sukuna for weeks now, and you were starting to lose it. After turning in your draft for the final presentation, you had learned of your classmates status as a student.

After having assumed that every meeting the two of you held was more of a free tutoring session for the lazy man, it would turn out Sukuna was the only student in class who was rivaling your own grades.

After this information had been absorbed, you left class without so much as a glace the boy's way.

It killed you to know that he was so nonchalant, that he barely put any effort into class and work yet he was up there with you.

He likely thought you a fool, all that time "teaching" him, he probably spent mocking you.

You couldn't help the flood of thoughts that overtook you, thoughts of him mocking you to his friends, thoughts of him screenshotting your messages to send to some group chat, thoughts of him making jeers at your intellect while you explain a concept ad nauseam.

Oh, how you hated him.

It didn't help that you so desperately craved approval from others. Teachers, friends, parents. You wanted it all. If you hadn't their validation, what did you have?

You worked tirelessly to earn the grades you maintained, even if people teased you, called you stuck up, or a sycophant. Was it so wrong to want to be liked?

And here he was, above it all, putting little to no effort into his work and still coming out on top.

He must have found it real funny. Probably had a good laugh every Friday when you met to "work" on your project.

That is why you found yourself writing up a short email, explaining how you no longer had an interest in meeting with him to prep. Requesting he develop his final presentation alone and informing him that from that day forward you would research, write, and present separately.

You hadn't even requested he send in his work for your review, though he had never done it before. No, you would do your part as far away from Sukuna as you possibly could and hope he never looked your way again.

This project was a big deal, you would be presenting it not just to your classmates and professors, no, but company stakeholders as well. They would be coming out to the auditorium to see students speak during finals. Some might even be looking for possible interns.

Apparently Sukuna knew what he was doing so maybe you didn’t need to monitor his work.

You were still going to stress about it though.

--

"UGH! I just cringe to think of every conversation. Why was he even meeting with me?"

You and your roommate had gone out for dinner and you were regaling her with the woes of your school project while she dipped her fries in a generous coating of milkshake.

"That boy looks like he's never held a coherent thought in his head, I doubt he cared to spare any consideration to something other than himself." She spoke with her mouth full, taking another bite, "He looks pretentious."

She wiped her fingers off on her jeans and reached for another handful of fries.

"But that's just the thing" You sigh, "he looks like he wouldn't handle complex thought but-" you're cut off by her giggle but you push onward, "-I'm serious! But he's apparently some wonder boy, a reeeeeal academic." You end your thought with a huff, dipping a nugget into some ketchup, and finishing your meal.

"Well now your Fridays are free, that's nice at least." She shrugs and all you can do is nod. "Who would have thought popular Sukuna is a nerd like you."

"He's not a nerd." You point a finger at her, "He doesn't even study! And I don't get why everyone likes him, he pays nobody the time of day."

"Are you kidding me?" She makes an incredulous laugh, raising her browns.

"What?"

"You haven't the slightest clue why he's so popular? Have you seen the man?"

As much as you hate to admit it... she was a little right. He was undeniably attractive. And his tattoos stretched across his body in a way that made him look like art. He wasn't a peacock either, flaunting himself, he seemed indifferent to the whole thing. He really was just one lucky bastard.

I seriously hate that guy.

--

The next week was filled with your typical busyness, avoiding your project partner didn't really occupy too much space in your mind, especially since he hadn't taken the curtesy to even respond to your email.

That was why, when you eventually saw him straighten his posture the second you entered the shared class, him stalking your movements carefully, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

Did he say anything? No. Did he try to get your attention? No. But he kept looking at you, and every so often during the lecture, you could feel his gaze in your direction. Serving to annoy you further. He could pay no attention in class and still catch up to your academic level.

Stop being a distraction.

Ugh.

--

After the last fiasco with this professor, you weren't exactly looking forward to sharing a word so you found yourself packing up the moment class was over. It hadn't even taken you putting away your folder for you to feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. Sukuna spoke.

"We should probably discuss the presentation."

This might have been the most you had ever heard him say at a time. About school or otherwise.

"I sent you an email, you know?"

You shuffle your bag to fit everything comfortably and zip it up. Continuing on, "We already split everything up, if you'd like to see my slides so you can match my format you'll find them in the email I sent." You swung your bag over your shoulder, "Last week."

You were making your way to the classroom door, fully prepared for him to shrug it off, but he seemed to have kept up with your pace, speaking down into your ear as you made it to the threshold.

"I've looked over your slides. That's not what I'm talking about." He followed behind you, opening the classroom door wider to stand next to you.

"Sukuna. I emailed you. I've emailed you several times. What about our project do we need to discuss that you couldn't have just emailed me about?" You try to keep your voice down, your professor was still at his desk.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know, be practicing?" He shrugs.

"...What?"

"Practicing? For our presentation? I don't know, I figured you would be the type to want things to flow smoothly."

You pull back, "I do want things to flow smoothly, like I already stated in the email, I am going to present first, then wait for questions, and then you'll go and do the same."

He raises a brow, "I got that." The way he looks at you and speaks so patronizingly distinct as if to suggest you were the slow one. "I'm just saying, we should practice at least once, I want to make sure you can do it."

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. No way, NO WAY he had just suggested that YOU didn't know what you were doing. You bark out a laugh. "I'm sorry? You want to make sure I can do it?"

He stands still, looks up at the ceiling, and hums, "Well, you're so anal about stuff, I figured you'd want to."

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, "I'm sorry I like things to be done right." You swing your bag a little more aggressively. "I'll send you my presentation notes so you can make sure I can do it."

You start to march down the hall, offended by his lackadaisical insults when he swoops up to you in just a few strides. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying.... wouldn't it soothe your anxiety to go over it together? I don't think it's wrong to suggest that we would do better after having gone over it at least once."

Oh sure, he was thinking about your anxiety, how kind. You roll your eyes.

You saw him out of your periphery and clutched your bag to your chest as he approached. When you turned to see him he had his arms raised in defense. "If you really care so much I'll add my slides to the presentation and send it to you."

"Good." You swung back. "I've only been asking for," you roll your eyes, walking backward to one of the campus exits, "oh, I don't know, weeks?"

"Fine." He huffed, squinting at you, "But we seriously should go over it so I can be sure you don't ruin my work with your public speaking." He was smirking at you, you had never seen that look on his face and you hoped never to see it again.

"Oh-" You gasp, "my gosh." You stomp away, whipping out your keys, "Thanks Sukuna, I'll try not to ruin all your hard work since you're such a team player."

That man was dead to you.

--

You would never say it to his face, but as finals approached, you were beginning to feel the typical sickness in your stomach. You made recordings of your note cards to listen to at night, practiced your speech endlessly, and changed the batteries in your clicker at least three times.

You had always been anxious, memories of puking before tests as a child still live on in the churning of your gut. This anxiety helped to motivate you but was unnecessarily intense, your own mother had told you to loosen up in the past but that was simply not something you were capable of controlling.

"Well, you're so anal about stuff-"

Oh, that man pissed you off. And after all that effort to seem cool and composed in all of your "tutoring" sessions, he could still tell that you cared. Cared more than you should.

You would never be the cool girl.

And this was why you were growing more upset with the understanding that you felt- you knew you really would feel better if you could just have the chance to practice your speeches.

But your pride had gotten in the way.

Couldn't he have just said that he wanted to practice instead of making it seem like he didn't believe in you?

His email did come, by the way. No words, just an attachment.

And damn him, the slides we good, not too crowded, and perfectly concise, he even had his speaker notes included and as you whispered them to yourself while sitting on your mattress you became determined.

You would not let this man outperform you. There would be employers present looking for interns and if you wanted to be noticed you could not be seen as the weak leak between the two of you. Especially not if it was Sukuna.

You started your email at 11 that night and rewrote for far too long.

Yes, you would practice your presentation with him, because and ONLY because you wouldn't allow him to drag you down.

It would also help settle your nerves, but he didn't need that confirmation.

It was on. Partner or not, you were fighting for the top spot in class and if your speaking ability fell short in comparison to his, you could not ever stand to look at him again.

But one thing you knew for sure as you sent the email, was that your advisor would be receiving some correspondence about avoiding a certain someone in future semesters.

It was past midnight. You started drafting a note about your class enrollment needs.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57

[tojisth3rdwife]

omg hiii, it would be so cool if wrote something about our fave jjk men reacting to reader throwing that thang back. i know you got some good ideas 👀

Ooooh I like this idea😌✨

JJK men reacting to reader throwing it back

a/n: during sex (im assuming thats what you meant lol)

Toji

This is mandatory. As a matter of fact, when you two first started out and he was fucking you from behind, the way Toji would hold your hips and watch your ass bounce back and forth would put him in a little trance. To the point where he would eventually stop moving and just let you fuck yourself on his dick with his hand resting on the small of your back. Abs clenching every time your walls sucked him in, eyes rolling a little the more your ass slapped against his torso. And don't let him be drunk or high, he’s gonna fall deep into your rhythm, slurring his praises.

“Keep throwing that ass on me baby...Yep, arch your back a little more..There you go, mama…There you fucking go..”

Satoru

Doggy is probably his favorite position for this reason. He’s nothing short of an ass man if you ask me. Nothing makes this man grin harder than the visual of your cheeks jiggling and bouncing on his dick. Especially if he's lying on his back and you're on top. Satoru would just be laid back with his hands clasped behind his head, you in reverse cowgirl with your hands on his shins for support. As good as you feel, nothing would wipe that elated grin off his face from him watching your cheeks bounce up and down. He even gives you a few slaps of encouragement when he senses you are close.

“Look at you, beautiful..so fucking perfect for me. This body..this fucking ass..oh my god..”

Sukuna

It drives him crazy. Crazy to the point that when you do start to deepen your arch, widen the gap between your legs, and begin to grind back against him, the feral beast inside of him unleashes. The true demon takes control. Two or three bounces on him, which is a task in and of itself due to his size, and he’s got you pinned to the mattress by the back of your neck, pounding into you at a blistering speed. You’ll have little to no range of motion at this point, completely at the mercy of the king.

“Who’s fucking who here? Hmm? Keep that ass just like that. Right where I fucking put you..”

Suguru

This man melts like butter when you start fucking him back. He’ll have a good handle on it at first, finding your efforts to take control amusing and letting you have your fun for a bit. But when you start to find your rhythm and even ride the curve in his dick to hit your spot just right, Suguru loses it. He’s moaning and gripping your waist. He’s pulling your body back against him harder, keeping his eyes fixed on his dick disappearing in and out of you.

“Like that, baby. Like that..oh fuck you take my dick so good..so fucking good baby..”

Kento

Nanami loves missionary because of the intimacy and control it gives him, but there is something about fucking you from behind that made him feel most dominant. And when the two of you are in the thick of making passionate love, and Kento has one leg up and his pelvis smacking against your ass, digging into you deeply, the discovery of you matching his pace sparks something inside of him. It's almost a sense of pride that swells at the sight of you taking control of your pleasure. He pauses his strokes and pulls back just to watch you tease yourself on the tip of his dick, his parted lips spreading into a smile. For extra measure, he’ll even reach under you to rub your clit as you rock back against him, leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“Oh? Is that how you feel, love? Fucking your husband back like that? Show me then..show me how you fuck your husband..”

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking about a yandere neighbor turned boyfriend...

(male yandere x gn reader)

part 1

tw: stalking, murder, other yandere adjacent themes

about two and a half months ago, a young man moved into the apartment next door. you had only seen him in passing, but his appearance made you occasionally take notice when he happened to be nearby.

he had medium length wavy hair dyed a pale blue, but his black roots were always showing. he would typically dress in dark clothing, almost always wearing something casual. he appeared to be about your age and a little taller than you. he also had a lot of ear piercings, but you were never able to figure out the exact amount.

the day he moved in you happened to bump into him as he was carrying boxes up to his apartment. after offering to help, the two of you made quick work of moving the boxes and unpacking. after that first interaction you had only seen him around briefly, but you hoped you would eventually get to talk to him again. you barely knew anything about your new neighbor, and maybe you both could be good friends in the future!

on the other hand, he knew absolutely everything about you. you didn't recognize him during that first meeting, but he certainly recognized you...

the two of you were also neighbors as kids, but he had to move away because his parents found new jobs elsewhere. the two of you were inseparable from ages five to eight. back then he had long and messy black hair and was usually missing a tooth.

the two of you had even made one of those silly promises where you would get married when you got older. he remembers having your pinkies intertwined as you smiled at him, and he laughed along at the time, but he always intended to keep his promise.

he was so heartbroken when he had to leave, but now by pure chance he had been blessed with the opportunity to be your neighbor again! you were still the same sweet person he knew back then, offering to help him with his move in and smiling at him so kindly.

he wanted to befriend you again, but just got so nervous and decided to do a little preliminary research so he could leave a good impression when the time came. at first it started as eavesdropping on conversations through his thin apartment walls. then he started peeking through your windows when you weren't around. around a month in he started poking around in your trash, looking for anything that could indicate your likes or dislikes. he found out you favorite food, color, movie, but then he started finding out other things as well.

he started using some more... invasive methods to gather intelligence. in the process, he found out what had happened since he's been gone. after being able to paint a full picture of who you are now and the life you live, he decided it was finally time to act.

he saw how you neglected your health. he noticed that most days you would only eat instant meals, assuming you would eat anything at all. he also noticed how you would overwork yourself and pass out at your desk most nights. he heard how your boss spoke to you and demanded much more than he should considering how little he paid you.

it seems he had found a little way to insert himself into your life.

the death of one of your boss caught you off guard, it was so sudden. supposedly, it was murder.

he was found dead in his apartment after no one had heard from him for a couple days. once someone came to check on him, they found a bloody scene that quickly caught the attention of the local media outlets.

there were rumors floating around about letters, flowers, and electronic scraps found at the scene that seemingly had no connection to the man or the murder itself.

you found out through a phone call as you were walking to your apartment door. as soon as you heard the news, your new neighbor happened to step out of his apartment.

he saw you standing there in shock and probably appeared concerned, but you were so focused on your thoughts rushing that you never registered his expression.

after the call ended you simply stood there. staring.

thinking.

thoughts rushing.

but also... you felt a little relieved. even if you knew you definitely shouldn't.

suddenly a soft voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"is um... everything alright? you look a little sick..."

a/n: thoughts?? i guess this was his introduction. let me know if yall want more parts!!

[manicmanuscription]

Sleepless

Azriel x Insomniac Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of PTSD, probably slight medical inaccuracies dealing with insomnia. SFW

Word Count: 1436

Summary: You've always had bad insomnia, unable to sleep due to trauma, that slowly starts getting better with your mate Azriel and on a particularly rough night you seek him out to help you sleep.

─── ♡ ───

You always had trouble sleeping, sometimes going days to weeks with only 2-3 hours, running on pure adrenaline until eventually your body gave in and you passed out. 

You had severe PTSD and the nighttime always made it worse, anxiety crushing you so bone deep as you waited for the next terrible thing to happen to you.  The healer’s you’d been to had all tried different methods to trick your restless body and mind into sleeping. Weed, relaxing teas and herbal remedies, tinctures, pills, aromatherapy, exercise. You name it, you've tried it. 

The only thing that had even remotely helped you a little bit was Azriel. You don't know when or how but he had suddenly become a safe space for you, the peace you felt around him a foreign feeling, one that terrified you but you had become too addicted to abandon. Over the years, your shy and soft friendship had turned into something more until the mating bond snapped. 

The level of commitment scared the shit out of both of you but you wouldn’t be able to handle life without each other. He was a soothing presence and he made you feel safe, cared for and loved. You had never been loved by or been in love with someone as deeply as Azriel. 

It never failed to amaze him when you fell asleep around him. He knew about your bad case of insomnia (you’d even passed out a few times in his arms and scared the ever living shit out of him.) So when you fell asleep next to him or even with him it had his heart skipping a few beats, the bond in his chest glowing with pride. It meant you trusted him, felt safe around him and it was the greatest feeling in the world. 

This was another night that plagued you, rain pattering against the windows with an unyielding vengeance. Thunder occasionally cleaves the sky. You were at the River House tonight, work had you and Azriel up late as you went over reports with Rhys. Once you all found a good stopping point you headed to your shared bedroom, thankful for the rooms Feyre had installed for you all.  

You had tried falling asleep without Azriel insisting he stay to have drinks with Rhysand, giving the High Lord and Spymaster some much needed brotherly bonding time. 

All you wanted was to sleep. You were already on your fourth day of no rest and it frustrated you to no end, there’d been multiple occasions of you sobbing to your mate about the lack of sleep, your mind simply refusing to give into the needs of your body. You needed Azriel but you stuffed the feeling down, determined to force your body to rest so he could enjoy his time. 

Then an hour passed, then two eventually ticked by and you couldn’t help the gnawing anxiety growing in your gut. It twisted up until you felt nauseous doubt running rampant through your mind. What if something terrible had happened to him? You knew this house was probably one of the safest places in all of Velaris but you couldn’t stop once you started, each dreadful though only growing worse. 

A shadow twisted in the corner, skittering across the floor and opening the door to your bedroom. Another shadow curled around your wrist and tugged softly- but insistently and you took the sign for what it was and followed the impatient little things through the winding estate until they led you to one of the main common rooms. You heard the soft voices of Cassian, Rhysand Azriel echoing through the dead silent house. 

You were unsure of actually entering the living room, hesitating in the hallway as your stomach now twisting with a different kind of anxiety -what if he was mad at you for being so annoying? for interrupting him?-

The shadows were having none of that and immediately pulled you into the room and you almost tripped on the plush carpet’s until they steadied you. They swirled back to their master and skittered around him excitedly, his eyes immediately found yours and they softened, a look only ever reserved for you and your heart skipped a beat at the sight.  Conversation continued but for a moment it felt like it was only the two of you. 

The shadows must’ve tattled on you because those bright eyes immediately shifted to concern, you could practically taste the question on his tongue and you shook your head trying to silently tell him you were fine. You crossed the room “When did you get here Cass?” You asked as you settled next to your mate. Your body instantly relaxes at the familiar scent of him. His presence instantly soothes almost all your earlier anxiety. 

“About… an hour ago?” The General responded across from you and you snorted at his PJ’s. “Couldn’t miss the fun?” You snarked as you adjusted to lay your body across the couch and placed your head on Azriel’s lap, letting him softly run his hands through your hair. 

‘“He has the worst case of FOMO I’ve ever seen.” Rhysand responded with a smirk sipping on an expensive glass of wine. 

“No I do not!” Cassian insisted. Azriel and Rhys chuckled at that. “You ran to my home, in sleepwear as soon as my lovely mate asked you where you were.” Rhys pointed out, brows raised. 

“Sleepwear? Are you too fancy for the word PJ’s? Gods…” Cassian retorted, turning to his own glass of wine. I chuckled a little bit at that and Azriel sent a wave of love towards me at the sound. “Shouldn’t you be with your mate Cassian?” Azriel joined in on the teasing as shadows retrieved a blanket for you, wrapping it around your shoulders, Azriel still absentmindedly playing with your hair, another hand abandoning his glass so he could trace patterns on your arm. 

“She is currently with Gwyn trading me in for some new romance novel I’m afraid.” 

“Poor baby.” You mocked, eyelids fluttering close at Azriel’s continued touch, your body slowly melting into him, your side of the bond glowing with contentment at finally being in his arms. Everything about him, his touch, his scent, his voice, soothed your long day and warmed you heart. You chimed in the conversation here and there as it continued for a few more hours until finally your jaw grew heavy to talk, your breathing evening out as you fucking finally slept. 

Azriel couldn’t help the warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you. You looked so peaceful sleeping and he was happy you were finally able to catch some rest. 

“Look at that.” Rhysand chirped. “He’s so whipped.” 

Cassian grinned, opening his mouth to add on but Azriel interrupted him. “Sshh.” 

“Excuse you?” Cassian mocked, Rhys eyes alight with amusement. “Did you just ’sshh’ me in my own house?” “Wow that’s just disrespectful, you seriously gonna take that Rhysie?”

Usually Azriel would never dream of doing so, he respected Rhys and would for him but when it came to you and especially your health and sleep..? They kept teasing him trying to prompt a response until eventually he snapped when Cassian’s voice got a little too loud. 

“Don’t you have mate’s to look after?” Azriel snapped harshly, Rhysand and Cassian paused. 

“Yep, definitely whipped.” Cassian agreed and Azriel’s eyes flashed, his grip on your tightening just slightly, you had been struggling to sleep for days and if his idiot brother’s woke you up not even twenty minutes later than who knows when you’d eventually fall asleep again or worse maybe you wouldn’t and you’d just pass out which isn’t even sleeping- His mind whirled dangerously on how to protect your rest. “This conversation is over, wake her up and I’ll rearrange your teeth.”  He responded dangerously, shadows slowly covering your limp form. 

Rhysand and Cassian put their hand’s up in surrender, they knew your struggles with sleep and they knew what a male would do to protect his mate and they had reached their limit on teasing, Azriel could be quite terrifying when need be. “Feyre is waiting for me.” Rhysand said with a wink, wishing his brother’s goodnight before gracefully exiting the room. Cassian just mouthed a sorry, patting Azriel on the back before leaving too. 

Azriel stayed like that until dawn, not risking a chance at you waking up due to any movement. He was perfectly content to watch your peaceful sleep, listening to your deep breaths as he held you close, continuing to trace those same soothing patterns along your arm. 

[musings-by-certified-bi]

Zuko of course ends up being permanently shuffled along to where ever the kids are. The women of course would not have let this group of strangers (especially armed, controlling men) near their children anyways, but Zuko acts as a perfect deterrent, since even if you like kids you probably don't want to hang out with the shouty walking teenage angst that is Zuko. The men never realize that keeping him with the kids is the perfect excuse to keep him out of any meetings, and away from any actual questions of how he got there. After all it's not like the men are inclined to include him in the hero fantasy they believe of themselves.

So he's elbowed into being called something else and is waved away as a child from another village they took in. Pakku doesn't even seem to notice how he resembles the exact missing boy Iroh asked the white lotus to keep an eye out for, because he's too busy giving Kanna reasons to finally snap and end him. His attempts at reconciliation are not going well, especially not after he told of her grand kids without masking his annoyance at Sokka's... everything.

Most of the men stay in the rebuilt walls of wolf cove, with a few stragglers leaving to reach out to the other tribes. When the men arrive, the women are well into prepping for winter and while men means more hunters, it also means more mouths making comments on the food. More clothes that need repair (and wearers with no respect for the labor that takes). More interruptions when the storyteller is speaking and not the curious interruptions of the children (including more recently a certain teen) nor the rude interruptions of an indignant prince who somehow chafed less because for all his disrespect he never laughed at them for being silly little girls who couldn't get the details right to simple tales, never mind this is the version their tribe had told for generations and held dear. It means more than a few of the married women without kids get rudely hit on, with the excuse being the lack of betrothal necklaces, followed up by snide comments at their husbands' ability to provide... the same husbands that actually went to fight in the war for their tribe's future.

In little and big ways autonomy from the women was taken away bit by bit. And the children kept asking why. Why not fight back, demand respect? After all the oldest among them know that their fathers didn't act like this, all of them remember Sokka, and even the prince treated them like people (he just happened to be an ass to a lot of people). How do you tell children for all the talk of sister tribes, that this was nothing more than an occupation? Sure one with seemingly good intentions on the surface, but doesn't that just make it worse?

During all this Zuko is sitting in his corner doing chores, with at least one child hanging off him. He of course is baffled at why the same women who had no trouble putting him in his place aren't doing the same now. Until finally one of the women simply asks (after the children are in bed) how that would work. The men are better armed, more trained, not inclined to listen, and it's not like they can leave their home just as winter hits. And suddenly Zuko is reminded of all the times he was told to pick his battles. Every insult Uncle took, every slight at his mother, every time his sister laughed at someone doubting her. Of course he still isn't any good at keeping his mouth shut, and he doesn't agree but he gets it the point she's making. He also is less inclined to try and start arguments once winter hits and Agni is barely present. He learns the hard way how one determines when the day starts during months of dark. The answer is being pushed out of bed by a surprisingly strong old lady, as to not be in Kanna's hut when Pakku swings by.

Eventually Agni returns and Pakku and some of the men leave. The women are unimpressed when no one says why. Clearly something is happening given he got mail before hand. Zuko mentions the comet and a few realizations occur. The most pressing is that this probably means some sort of escalation of the war (hopefully the end of it, but that's a hope that's been shrinking for decades). The other realization is that their fire hazard is going to be extra fiery and despite the amount of times men have walked in on Zuko heating water or giving of steam, somehow they haven't noticed he can fire bend and it's probably best to keep it that way. Which starts the debate of where to put him. Quite a few different suggestions are made but eventually it's decided they'll just leave him in Kanna's hut since Pakku isn't around to try and swing by. There are several close calls during this, but the children come through. They aren't willing to loose their personal heater. Zuko is not apart of the debate and doesn't realize his bending is a secret. Just his origin.

As spring truly arrives the tension finally burst. Hakoda arrives home with his children, his crew and (ugh) Pakku, to find the new wall has had a chunk fire bended out of it, at least 3 northerners knocked out, a water bender dueling a fire bending teen (he assumed the teen Pakku mentioned was... a water tribe teenager and not a clearly trained fire bender) with the children lobbing snow balls and rocks at the fight.. and surprisingly not aiming at the fire bender. He finally gets the fight broken up, asking what in the world is going on. To which Kanna replies that the fire prince was kindly letting their northern guests know that their welcome had worn itself out.

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[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.

[raqi-marr]

i like to imagine that the affini understand that the process of florting someone is often the best part of being a floret, and so there are a lot of mechanisms in place to allow this to be relived

in addition to the classic of 'give them class-H's and make them relive being taken', i like the thought of some independents having agreements with local groups of affini where they're like "hey i really like being courted, but i like all of you and i don't wanna settle down into the floret lifestyle since the chase is the best part" so what happens is that all the affini basically play games trying to seduce them; maybe literal hide and seek where if they catch the indie, they get to drug and play with them for a while, but then they have to let them go again. if anyone actually gets the independent, they have to let them go after they're done playing with them, and then the cycle starts again

of course, this is probably never a permanent arrangement, because eventually the poor independent ends up so subby from getting teased and bullied and courted over and over again by dozens of affini that they stop being able to meaningfully resist any more, and at that point, they get florted properly

[fatuismooches]

Zandy speed-walking to your room wrapped in his blanket whenever he got nightmares wasn't anything new.

In the beginning, he felt guilty for bothering you in the middle of the night, but ever since you found out the child had bad dreams once in a while, you urged him to come find you no matter what time it was. Thankfully, they had significantly decreased since he met you, but there were still times he woke up scared and sweating, as if flames had nearly licked him. Admittedly, a part of him wished you could sleep in his room every day so it wouldn't happen, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to you.

At first, Zandy would knock on your door and wait for you to open before intruding, but eventually, you managed to convince him to just let himself in and onto your bed. During these instances, you'd wake up to the child cuddling to you, sometimes with Foxttore squished in between. It was healing for both of you. And tonight, Zandy thought as he tip-toed to your room, would be no different. Quietly twisting the doorknob and entering the room, he already felt a bit more at ease, especially at the sight of your silhouette. The boy walked to the bed and began to climb on it when suddenly a hand shot out to grab him, and he was faced with none other than fellow blood-red eyes.

Quickly, Zandy figured out the situation, when he noticed that you were actually on the other side of the bed, this person was none other than Prime Dottore which he didn't realize in the darkness, and that he had accidentally woken him up. It was only natural that Dottore would be woken up at the slightest noise - he had never been a deep sleeper.

But more importantly, the situation had turned awkward once Dottore had removed his grip from the boy, realizing it was just him. Immediately, Zandy tried to shuffle off the bed - he and Prime had been on way better terms lately, no longer being ignored, which was wholly thanks to you - but he was still hesitant to interact without you. But Dottore wasn't going to let him off that easy of course.

"... What are you doing here?" The boy's eyes nervously flitted from your sleeping body to Prime, hoping you'd wake up to get him out of the situation.

"W-Well..." Zandy's voice came out louder than he wanted, "I wanted to... to..." he then drifted off as he tried to think of a reasonable excuse. He could tell Dottore wasn't particularly impressed, moving to get up when suddenly a new voice entered the conversation.

"Zandik, what's wrong?" You yawned as you began to sit up in bed. "Usually, you aren't this noisy when you're sneaking off to go do work instead of sleep-" You stopped your sentence slowly and rubbed your eyes, as you now realized someone else was in the room too. "Zandy? Is that you?"

"Yes..."

"Another nightmare again? Poor thing, come here," you cooed, stretching your arms open. Dottore remained silent but quickly pieced together what happened. Well, it made an awful lot of sense - you somehow always managed to be soothing after experiencing the terrors of the mind. He too remembers the times he rested his chest on your chest after his own nightmares. Logically, when the scholar thinks about it, his child segment's nightmares were probably similar to his too.

However, Zandy didn't seem very certain of the idea anymore, more interested in heading out the door. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before you quickly remembered that Dottore was likely causing his hesitation.

"There's no need to be shy. You can stay, we don't mind," you said softly, moving to the edge of the bed and grabbing both his hands. "Right, Zandik?"

"... Go ahead. There's only a few more hours until I get up, anyway."

"See? Now come here." With only a bit of persuasion, the child was in between the two of you. Well, he was mostly attached to you while Dottore was just on the other side, but it was still sweet. You gently patted Zandy's head as you began yawning again, sleepiness still coursing through you. At that, Dottore pulled up the covers, making sure you (and the child) were warm.

"Good night, Zandy, Zandik..."

"Good night, [Name]... fa-" The word quickly softened and dried up on the boy's lips as he realized that he was still not brave enough for that yet. Zandy swiftly shut his eyes and willed his body to sleep as fast as possible.

A little while later, after Dottore was sure you both had dozed off, he sighed at the sight that was mostly covered in darkness, but he could still make out his child self's body wrapped by your larger one... as well as the rather wide and palpable gap in between his and his segment's.

Briefly turning over, the Harbinger glanced at the time. It would be time for him to return to his work soon, this break only a haven you begged to grant him. Dottore looked back at you, reaching out to caress your cheek, letting out another sigh. He moved his body closer, to where his own was only a little bit from touching Zandy's, and then wrapped a protective arm over you, and by extension, the child.

He would be gone soon enough, anyway - this wouldn't hurt for now.

It was moments like this that made what the future held hurt even more.

[max-the-many]

- Day five -

Again it was quite the day with what turned out to be Jake, a jacked ginger business guy in town for some comtracts.

Of cause I didn't go to my own body as I had planned. Was it fear?

It definately was curiosity with Jake, flexing infront of the mirror, trying out all his cloth just to see his body in it. He was stunning! His face so alluring, so charming. It gave me the shiveres to give me a flirt even though it was me in that body!

Even though I really fought with myself I ended up going to the apointments I fijnd on his mobile.

To see him in business attire just got me even more. Slipping in some snuggly fitting white briefs, a probably tailored suit hugging his frame without looking too forced.

At the business apointments I kept myself low, looked arojnd, hoping for some hot opportunities. But I was too shy for it, planning to make up for it at a party somewhere, even managing to be acompanied by a good looking guy from the other company.

Out at the club I really had a great time! Almost forgetting about those luring questing, taking some shots with my company leading to a point, where I forgot all my hesitation.

So despite having some fun pretending to look out for girls, sharing thought with my company I pulled him in on a whim inmidst the dancefloor, managing to get a pretty decent kiss before he stumbled back, leaving the dancefloor in irritation.

'This didn't feel all that unwanted' I thought smiling.

And I for sure wouldn't leave this on this note...

---

And I really did as I thought, following that guy, forcing another kiss in which he really gave in, stumbling into the restroom for a heavy makeout-session, having him on jis knees even right besides the well-frequented sinks emding up in his hotel room for what turbed out his first real hookup although he admitted to have had some minor explorations many years ago.

---

At - day six - now I found myself in yet another stunning hunk as if my abimity to fulfil my desires got better and better.

Those questions however got louder and louder, leaving myself infront of the mirror. Should I look for myself? Should I just injoy this trip without thinking of tomorrow? I was a master of repression when it comes to such things.

But it got hardwr and harder. I couldn't even fully injoy this marvelous guy, at some point forcefully distract myself, creating videos, pictures, feeling me up, hoping for something to happen that would help me yet again to push those questions away...

Continue here:

Day one:

I would love to aim for that chest

[hissto]

"Can I lift an owlbear?" and "How to lift an owlbear?" - questions that should never be asked before more reasonable ones, like "Should I lift an owlbear?" and "WHY would I lift an owlbear?" yet here we are. Answers with pictures from all of the core companions below. It's actually started with me drawing this (as a gift-card for my friend) with Shadowheart. She’s gentle with animals and fairly strong (compared to male companions in camp) so here we are. But I immediately thought – what about the others?

Karlach is a BIG HUG girl and I adore her for this. Look at the joy! (I wanna be this owlbear…)

Lae’zel probably wouldn’t do it, if asked, but IF she would, she would assert her dominance and make her annoyance known

Wyll is definitely gonna try. Will Wyll succeed? My bet is ‘no’, but he might eventually

Gale isn’t cheating, he’s using his strongest muscle – his brain! Oh, and magic, of course

Astarion tries to use his brain. After all, if magic counts, then owlbear jumping because of you should also count. Come on! Up, you beast! Urgh, why isn’t this working? STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THIS AND JUMP FOR THE DAMNED SQUERREL ALREADY!

Bonus: Minthara and Halsin.

And how would you (for an unknown reasons) lift an (extremely friendly) owlbear?