#Deciphering Food Labels

[edairy]

Whenever we go to a supermarket or any convenience store, do we go through food labels and ensure that the food we consume is healthy? Food labels contain a lot of information, making reading a label quite tricky, misleading the consumer to buy highly processed or unhealthy food as a healthy food option. With the growing world, food options are also increasing with brand competition. This makes shopping a bit confusing when it comes to understanding food labels. Let’s decode food labels so that next time you go to a convenience store you can differentiate between junk and truly healthy foods, to make better food choices. 🤷‍♂️🥤 🥗

[charusinghaniya]

What is the Meaning of Parenting?

What is the Meaning of Parenting? Discover the true meaning of parenting with this complete guide. Learn what parenting means in one word, the role of parents, and get expert tips with helpful interlinked blogs from DrDad.in.

But what exactly is parenting? What is the meaning of parenting in one word? What does it mean to be a parent in today’s modern world?

In this article, we’ll explore these important questions while offering practical insights and expert tips for every stage of your parenting journey. We’ll also share helpful resources from DrDad.in that every parent should read.

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter | 4 |

💖 Dad!Price & Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FOUR: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,565words

[18+] MDNI | TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

You learnt from a young age to stay silent when it came to the adults in your life. Made it easier to get the talk over with. Less words to get you in trouble, something you always tried to dodge.

Silence, your best friend. The one thing that kept you company most days. You stared at your dad, arms folded over your chest as you leant back on the stiff wooden chair. Not quite tucked in under the table, slightly angled in case you needed to make a quick exit.

The shiny new phone on the varnished surface, some sort of peace offering or something to be held over you, another thing for you to figure out.

The Captain however, he wasn’t as easy to read and that added to the weight on your chest. You weren’t sure on the limits, what he’d allow or how he’d deal with something he didn’t like.

You cleared your throat, gaze flitting to his across the table. “So, I can probably find a place in like a couple days or so, a week tops you know,” you said rambling on about a friend of a friend who lived close by.

Not a total lie, you’d slept on your mates sofa’s here and there as a teen when things went south before. You’re sure you can pick up some bar work to help you out till you find something more permanent.

The Captain shook his head. “Stay as long as you need, kiddo. Anything you need your old man’s ‘ere.”

As long as you need, another open ended thing for you to figure out. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or get too close to him. Didn’t want to rely on your dad, knowing that he’ll come and go as he pleased. Blame it on the job, send you a message to check in and rid himself of the guilt.

“You know, it’s not just us living here,” he said, interrupting the constant thoughts rattling in your head. You know the little voice that’s always second guessing other people’s actions and trying to decipher the true meaning of their words and actions.

Oh shit, you didn’t even think of his team living in the same house. They’d given you and the captain space since you’d got here. You’re hoping you won’t be there for long, even if you have to stay at a shitty hotel until you get enough money to put down on a flat to rent.

“I’ll stay out of the way, no problem.”

Out of sight, out of mind. Least he wasn’t taking you to his house with your brother and stepmother.

“Nah kiddo, this is just as much your space now,” he said, his brows scrunching together as his eyes roamed your face. Like he was also trying to figure you too. “There are some rules though.”

“Rules?” You echoed back at him. You weren’t so good with rules, they normally came with expectations and punishments when they were broken.

Not that you’d be breaking them, willingly anyways. You didn’t want to think of the outcome if you did either.

“We’ll be in and out of the house, no set routine. All you gotta do is look after yourself kiddo, we eat mostly in the canteen as it’s convenient. So you’ll probably be having your meals alone, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but add to the list on the front if you run out of stuff,” he said, sliding a notepad in front of him. The scratch of his pen jotting down numbers and words.

You nodded, “sure that’s okay.” You’d been fending for yourself for years, knew how to make the most of the basics or go without. Skipping a meal a day wasn’t a big deal for you. You could survive on just one if you needed to. You wondered if they kept track of the food or if they labelled their own food. There wasn’t any locks on the kitchen cabinets, so it looked like it wasn’t too strict.

“Now, you’re on base. So you won’t be able to walk anywhere and everywhere. There’s a map here,” he mumbled, pointing to an unfolded leaflet. He placed it in front of you and started to circle some areas, blue ink tracing the paths and road. “All the places I’ve highlighted you can go. Do not, I repeat do not go anywhere else.” His voice lowering as he got to the last sentence, gaze flicking up to yours. He jabbed the tip of the pen in your direction, brows raising as if daring you to argue about it.

The look of someone you did not want to piss off. You glanced back to the untouched areas, half of them with no labels or names.

“Uh, yes sir. I won’t go there.”

He doesn’t question the formal sir you’ve thrown his way, the line between his brows softening and eyes relaxing from their narrowed gaze.

“You got any idea what type of work you’re looking for?”

You shook your head. There wasn’t much you could do, a few different jobs here and there. You’d take anything at this rate, you weren’t picky. Money was money at the end of the day.

“Alright, I know someone hiring,” he said, raising his hand to stop you interrupting him. “Three days a week, entering data into a computer. Gotta interview kiddo, nothing comes for free.” He ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad, pushing it to you. A number and name, along with a date of the interview.

The ever prepared Captain already scheduled you an interview. Part of you wondering if he’d planned the rest of your time here.

Boring work, but you didn’t have the luxury to care. You needed to find something as fast as you could.

“It’s not working here is it?” You asked, trying not to offend him.

The Captain chuckled, “nah kiddo. A fifteen minute drive. If you get the job, I’ll sort the insurance on the truck and you can borrow it for now till you find your feet.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen him smile, the curve of his lips making him seem younger. Like the dad who used to ruffle your hair and put you over his shoulder when you were six. The years seemed to harden your parents, your mother’s snapping tone still sent a shiver down your spine. Your father’s stern face, lines in the corners of his eyes and the centre of his forehead painting him serious most of the time.

“What about rent?”

Nothing comes for free, his own words repeating in your mind. You wonder what else you’ll have to earn whilst you’re staying with him.

“Keep ya’ money,” he grumbled, his chair scraping back as he stood up. He walked over to the fridge, pinning a piece of paper under a magnet. His finger jabbing the scribbled mess. “If you need to reach me, this is my office number. Mobile first, office is last resort.”

“And mum?” You dared to ask, still expecting her to appear with each waking day. Least you'd hear her before you actually saw her.

“We’ll talk about it another day. Rest up and look after yourself. You still need to take it easy.”

You nodded, releasing a deep breath. The weight on your chest lifting, the tension loosening from your shoulders.

The Captain turned his back from you, flicking the kettle on. You rose from the chair, tucking it back under the table. He handed you a steaming cup of tea and you settled down into the sofa, placing the cup on the coffee table.

A kiss landed on the crown of your head, "gotta go back to the office, you know what to do if you need anything."

You didn't get a chance to react, the front door closed before you could catch a glimpse of your father.

Sleep had been fleeting the past week, as soon as your cheek hit the pillow on the couch you were out. You were never much of a heavy sleeper, but the rough weight on your forehead soothed the heat and sweat coating it, that you didn’t question it. The cool touch easing your faltering breaths.

You shifted, the cushion wedged behind your back brushed against the wound near your shoulder blade, a groan slipping from your lips. The hushed tones of someone shushing you and the hair sweeping behind your ear, however, sent alarm bells ringing. You shot up, head crashing into the nearest thing.

Johnny Mactavish stumbling back with a grunt. He cradled his jaw, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," you snapped, clutching your forehead and scrambling to sit up. "Why are you breathing over me?" You traced the stitches above your brow, lowering a trembling finger tip expecting blood, but there was none.

Your heart drummed against your chest, the shirt you wore drenched in sweat and sticking to the dip between your breasts. Your fingers pinched the fabric, allowing the excess to swallow your figure once again.

The crick in your neck stopped you from turning your face quickly to the man in front of you.

Johnny rubbed his chin, red tinge marring his jawline. "Thought you'd passed out again, checking for your breath lass." He sat on the edge of the coffee table, wood groaning under his weight.

The distressed denim jeans hugged his thick thighs, baggy t-shirt skimming over a leather belt. Sergeant written across his firm chest. Your gaze wandered to the short sleeves and the way they curled around his biceps. A few nicks and scrapes dotted his bare arms, fading green bruise on his knuckles.

He reached out and you dodged his hand, trying to sink further into the sofa. Wanting it to swallow you up, anything to go unnoticed.

“You’re hot.”

It took you a second to register what he'd said.

“I’m what?” You stuttered, trying to pull the thin blanket over your shoulders as you slid down in your seat. God, he was so hot. Different to your ex, something untouchable about Johnny too though.

A deep chuckle shook his chest, his head cocking to side. Smile stretching his lips as if he noticed your stare. “Yeah, your head. Fever maybe?” He mumbled, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on your forehead for a few seconds.

Of course, he wasn't looking at you like that. You don't even know why your mind went there either. Must be the fever messing with you.

You blinked, not sure of why he was checking you over again. If you’ve got a fever you’ll be taking a bath right? Or just riding it out? You weren’t quite sure. Did the Captain put him up to this?

It was the first time taking medication like this, normally you took paracetamol and hoped for the best.

Johnny’s touch is light, brief as he pulled away and clasped his hands in between his legs. “Did ya’ miss your meds?” He glanced over his shoulder, the ridiculously large clock ticking away.

“I fell asleep.” You shrugged, “I’ll just take them in a bit.” It’d been four hours since you’d settled on the sofa and three hours ago you were supposed to take two pills.

“You gotta take them at the specific times,” Johnny said, popping the pills out of their packaging and into your palm. He walked to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water.

Sipping the water and throwing back your medication, you went to place it on the table, but he shook his head.

“Drink all of that, will help with that fever,” he said, sinking into the sofa beside you. The cushion dipped beside you and found your body leaning to his. "Might wanna, take that blanket off too." He snatched the blanket from your lap, balling it up and tossing it on the armchair beside him.

You drank half, gaze locked on his as you placed the glass on the coffee table. Wondering if he’d tell you to drink more, but he picked up the remote, flicking through the tv guide.

“Captain got you babysitting?” You checked your phone, a chain of texts from your father and an alarm notification you slept through that alerted you of the time and the meds you needed to take. forty-six missed calls and twelve voice messages, your ex's name lit up the screen as you turned it over on the table.

Johnny slouched against the back of the sofa, legs widening. Your knee brushing against the side of his denim clad thigh. His hand resting ever so close to yours on his own leg.

“Nah, watching the rugby.” He pointed to the tv with the remote, the match three minutes in already. There’s a bottle of beer in his other hand, the same one your ex liked.

The one you used to stare at in the shop, wondering if this pack would go in your favour or go against you.

Johnny seemed pretty calm though, you don’t know him well so the beer in his hand doesn’t help you feel any better. People are totally different after consuming stuff like that.

“You like the rugby?”Johnny said, his deep voice pulling you out of your head. He sucked in a breath as the players tackled each other for the ball.

You shook your head, “I hate sports.” You can't think of anything worse, a group of men shouting and hollering at a match. The spike of violence when their teams didn't win, all because of a game. You tried to keep away from all that.

The bottle doesn't touch his lips, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yeah my sisters hated it whenever I watched the rugby." A smile playing on his lips, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"You've got sisters?" It doesn't surprise you. He's respectful towards the women on base, well from what you've seen so far.

"Yeah, three of them. Don't know what's worse, three of them or that they're older."

You wonder how different your life would have been if you had siblings, someone else around your age to take the load off of you. Another person who could relate to everything, someone you could talk to without judgement.

Johnny rambled on about his siblings, telling you little bits of pieces of his childhood. The more he said, the more you felt like you'd missed out on a lot. You nodded along, lying when he'd asked you if you were close with your mum. The instinct to paint everything good still ingrained in your being.

The phone in front of you vibrated, kept doing so until you picked it up and turned it off. You don't even need to look at who it is, no matter who it is, it's not someone you want to deal with right now.

"Block 'em, don't want the Captain getting a hold him." He doesn't spare you a glance as he spoke, the tic in his jaw pulsing.

Johnny meant well, but you couldn't stop the cogs turning as you thought of what would happen if the Captain knew everything. A part of your life you'd never shared with your dad, for good reason too.

And if he'd even believe you.

[PART FIVE]

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie

(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

[eleiwitch]

They're rivals. They're lovers. They don't have a label on them. They wish the other was gone. They couldn't live without each other. They have their hands wrapped around each other's neck, it's undecided why. No one knows what they are. They can't stand each other. They'd die without each other. You'd have to go through one to reach the other. They work in a rhythm people haven't yet deciphered. They don't understand each other. They don't need to talk to communicate. They know each other's favourite food that they memorised years ago, but can't bring themselves to have a proper conversation.

They're an enigma, a puzzle made with weird jagged edges, and they're made for each other.

[backwardshatnick]

𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇'𝗍

in which matt leads you to question things.

pairing: bsf!matt x bsf!reader wc: 569 notes: short blurb to make up for my absence :) idk what to label this with. pining? limerence?? delusion??? this is gonna be sooo bad because i haven't written in so long ackkk! [divider credits to: @v6que]

“This specific work on Shakespeare’s Hamlet is gonna be done in pairs, so everyone go find your partners and work on it during the rest of the period!”

The moment I heard those words coming out of Mr. Jensen, I could feel the otherwise permanent pause of my heart. The world started to feel stridently silent, I was alone but everyone was everywhere, the air was too concentrated but light enough to blur my sight with the anxiousness drowning me in the auditorium. Every gulp gets heavier to swallow as my ears start to ring, breathing feels too shallow until a gentle tap on my right shoulder brought my senses to its regular state.

“Hey, you okay there? Your lips are turning purple…” the concern evident in the timbre of his voice, as I was met with a brunette with eyes the calming colour of a summer sky. He shot me a toothy gummy grin, his braces preventing me from further observing the pearly gates that he had as he held out a hand for a shake, “Want to be partners for this homework? I’m Matt, if you can’t tell.”

From that point on, Matt wasn’t just my English partner, but he was also my best friend, my first prom date and my next-door neighbour when we moved in the same dorm in college. Until he wasn’t.

The moment that our knees touched under the table at our local library, I was anguished to decipher every little movement not as a coincidence, but as an indisputable, yet subdued signal that could change what we had in the first place. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up from the newspaper articles that he had been analysing since the beginning of time and shot me a look before he removed his sweater from himself. “I know this isn’t much but your legs are kinda cold to me, kid. Maybe this might help.”

Once we noticed that people were leaving as the library ceased to operate, Matt and I started packing our bags and headed towards the exit. His calloused fingers barely missing mine when my hand was about to reach for the door as he held it open for me. “Thanks, Matt.”

We walked side by side, the sound of our footsteps echoing throughout the alley until it was cut off by the grumbling of his stomach.

“Oh, looks like we have a visitor here,” I joked whilst pointing to his belly, “Do you reckon we greet them with burgers?”

He chuckled in reply, wrapping his hand around my wrist as we dashed with our backpacks swinging behind to the nearest fast food place before it closes for the night. We ended up sharing a large basket of chips and chicken tenders in his car, my Fanta and his root beer wedged between us in the cup holder of the minivan. Matt couldn’t hold his hunger as he continuously shoved the chips into his mouth until he started nudging me on my left arm to give me his drink. Absent-minded and too disoriented, I grabbed my Fanta and offered it to him in which he took it with gratitude by immediately sipping onto the lip gloss-covered straw. He pursed his lips in bewilderment and perceiving the tangy orange taste, I presume, before linking all his senses together and uttered, “You wear watermelon chapstick? I like this taste…”

Only God knew how much I wished that he could hear how my heart begged for more.

[roseofhybrids]

you know what would be fun?

A puzzle game where you're given a bunch of different objects, magazines, books, food labels, et cetera, all with a made up language on them. Then, with just the objects you're given, you have to decipher how to read the conlang your only clues come from the pictures and contents of the items

say for example, the game gives you two cans they're different brands, but two of the words on the front of them match the game lets you open the cans, and inside you find that both are filled with tomato soup ergo, you can conclude that the shared words mean "tomato soup"

then you can take another can, this one only shares one word and is filled with vegetable soup. Therefore, that single word that all three cans share must mean "soup" and by process of elimination the other word means "tomato"

and the idea is you keep doing this with different words till you can fully translate everything

[random-tail]

My mind has just been swimming latly so I'm just gonna plop this here.

Enjoy this lil short for My Fluffy SCP (weather I make a more flushed out story I do not kn. )

In all honesty, you saw this coming. The orange jumpsuit, the cuffs on your wrists and feet so you couldn’t run. The soldiers holding their guns at the ready in case you tried to even consider escaping. All because of a few photos. But again, you new this would happen.

You signed the agreement when you were first introduced to this place after all. And in bright bold letters it told you the consequences of braking any of the rules. I mean this place was practically area 51. Housing creatures and objects they labeled as SCP's, with each having their own designated number.

You were down on your luck. Homeless, no family or friends. So when a stranger walked up to you offering a job with housing, food and pay how could you say no. Yes, it was sketchy as all fuck, but a warm hearty meal in the dead of winter was a tough bargain to beat. And all you were hired to do was clean.

Sure, you through up the first few times when you saw the bloody animal and human remains. But by the time of your 7th clean up of an enclosure. Your stomach was practically iron. It was also quite the cushy job since no one else seemed to want to do it. So you rarely had to deal with anyone bothering you as long as you got the place cleaned up in a timely manner, and didn’t leave anything behind.

But then you just had to screw it all up. All because your stupidity got the better of you. Taking pictures of some of the bizarre SCP’s such as SCP-999 or SCP-1762. Then posting them online. You figured it was as harmless as the SCP’s themselves, thinking most people would think their photo shopped or just plain origami dragons suspended by strings. And that was the case, till you posted one picture of a SCP that you rarely got to see. SCP-049, the plague doctor.

That day after you posted it, members of the guards stormed your room and you were dragged out in a matter of seconds.

Now here you sit on a cushioned table in your jumpsuit and chains as a woman in a lab coat takes your vitals. Both you and her acted calmly as if this was nothing more then a Dr’s visit but you knew that wasn’t the case.

That day when you were dragged from your room you were designated as a D-class personnel. Nothing more then food for the SCP's to eat and to be cleaned off the walls and floors. You almost felt more jealous then afraid for the new person who now gets to clean you off the enclosures.

If you were to be honest with yourself, you’d say you might have been in a state of shock as you lifted your arms and took deep breaths as the woman directed you. You guess the reality that you were about to die hasn’t fully kicked in yet. So when you were finally escorted from the room to the elevator, and still had a mind of clarity. You spoke up.

“Will it be quick?”

The woman looked at you, then at the clipboard she’d been carrying. You only catch a small shift on her face that you couldn’t decipher before she returned to facing forward as the elevator descended to the Keter-class levels.

You all step off and pass containment after containment, even passing under inactive tesla gates. You start to count each section you pass by, wondering which lucky abomination will be picking you from their teeth. Finally the woman who was at the lead comes to a stop at a door.

Seeing her using her level 4 access card, you suddenly get a short lived feeling of excitement. You had only ever cleaned areas that personal with level 3 access could allow you into. As frightening as most of the creature that are in here you couldn’t help but be completely enamored by its existence. The things that are here that shouldn’t even exist.

That honestly probably what drove you to take photos of them and share them. To show the world that these dangerous yet incredible things exist.

You roughly get pushed by one of the guards knocking you out of your stupor as you were gawking at the woman’s level 4 pass.

Right, you’re here to be food. Not to sight see.

Your pushed into a room adjacent to an observation room. The only thing separating the 2 being a thick glass wall. Inside you can see others in lab coats, looking through the observation window into the enclosure or typing away at a computer. Another thing you notice is a white board with, not 1. But 2 SCP numbers. And underneath each you see names, of whom you believe are the scientists with in the room.

You’ve seen this before. Usually to keep track of who’s using the SCP or who’s currently authorized to use it. Or maybe it’s to-

“So which one is your money on?”

You glance to the guards.

“I don’t know. I lost too much on my last bet.”

Ah. Their bets to see which SCP get to eat you…wait.. “2..SCP's?” You state out loud to yourself. The reality of your situation finally decides to hit you like a ton of bricks. So much so that you miss the glare the woman gives the guards and how your quickly ushered into the air lock.

The door closes behind you with a single guard and the woman. As the air lock hisses with sanitization, you try to think of what 2 SCPs that you know of with in the facility. That could possibly be in the same enclosure and not rip each other apart. You start considering it’s the 2 strange SCPs 053 and 682 when you suddenly feel someone breathe into your ear.

“To answer your question from earlier.”

Her feminine voice leaves a chill down your spine as the woman leans into your ear from behind you.

“they like to play with their food.”

You feel all the color from your face drain as the doors to the enclosure open and you are shoved in.

“hehe.. bye.”

You stagger on your feet and turn around only to catch a glimpse of the woman’s green eyes and dark smile before the doors close.

Standing there, frozen to the ground. The fear and reality of what’s bound to happen next solidifies in your mind. Your going to die in the next few minutes, and if the SCP's truly do play with their food. Your going to die in the worst way.

You stare at the door willing it to open again and let you out. For this to be nothing but a nightmare. But the feel of eyes on your back and a hot breath down your neck lets you know that’s not going to happen as a shudder goes down your spine.

A gravelly chuckle coming directly behind you that soon erupts into a husky laugh as it sees you tremble. But it wasn’t a dark laugh of someone about to kill you. No somehow it sounded just like those irritating laughs you used to get from jack ass’s who would give you rotten food when you were hungry. Or would steal from you at knife point.

That irritating kind of laugh that made your blood boil from its once icy cold. You knew this wasn’t some punk about to rob you however. It was a horrid creature that would most likely rip you limb from limb. But that laugh. It was enough to solidify your next decision. That you would punch this SCP at least once before it could tare you apart.

So whipping around with your eyes closed and your still cuffed hands held together. You swing at the creature with all your might, only to be met with what felt like silky fur. The chuckling had stopped for only a moment before starting up again with vigor.

You open your eyes, and your fire flickered out.

Before you stood a tall creature standing on its hind legs. It was lanky with a broad chest and long limbs. It’s, what your assume is slick fur, is a stunning mix of milky white and midnight blue with a fluff or plumage around its waist, and neck. It possessed a wicked set of claws and razor-sharp teeth to match. Teeth that it eagerly displayed in a wide grin that made its red eyes crease. On it head it had a long tendril that seemed to twitch and sway on its own, with a little bulb at the end.

Despite it hunching over, it still towered over you by several feet. It continued its chuckling as it grabs your cuffed hands and pulls them away from where you hit it. Clearly you didn’t phase it as it drops its face closer to your. It’s grin splitting wider.

Anyone else in the right mind in this situation would of pissed their pants already. And you definitely know you did once you saw how tall this mother fucker was. But then you noticed something that caught your eye. It’s face. It was circular like a disk with it being half milky white and half midnight blue. Yet the more you stare at it, the more you couldn’t help realize that it looked like-

“the moon?”

It freezes in the middle of opening its jaw and raising a claw to your face. It’s eyes were blown wide open, and after a few moments it sneers at you. It lowers its hands then proceeds to.. sniff you?

It makes an audible “bleck" sound while sticking out an inky black tongue before pulling away from you. It begins to pace back and forth in front of you on all 4s, yet still it stood over you even now that it was lower to the ground. It continues to glower at you while making a variety of gravelly sounds and chirps as if it was a chattering frustrated cat that couldn’t catch a bird.

As you watch it, confused by its sudden change of demeanor, you hear another set of chatter. But a much higher pitch. The additional chatter wasn’t as startling as the blue creature perking its head then turning it 180° around to face behind it. Was this thing part owl or something?

A conversation of chirps and chatter gos back and forth between the blue creature and another until you could finally see the owner of the higher pitched voice. A creature, similar to the blue ones build, comes prancing over. Standing tall on its rear legs. The only difference being its gold & cream colors, bright white eyes, and rather then one tendril. It has 7 that crowned around its head.

It chatters happily to the blue one, who you catch rolling its eyes, before coming up to you and crouching down. It’s smile widens at you and just like the other, it bears razor sharp teeth. But your then suddenly taken off guard when you notice it has a gap in between its front teeth. Of which pulls an uncalled for snort from you. This makes the gold creature rear back a bit surprised, before smiling wider and filling your ears with a variety of happy clicks and chirps.

It's glee was contagious as you couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at its this deadly creatures silly display as it shakes its head this way and that at you. But your mirth is quickly cut short, when it grabs you by your head. Its large hand that could easily crush your skull, firmly holds either side of your face. Your eyes widening as you become hype aware of its blade like claws inching unnervingly close to your throat.

“they like to play with their food.”

The woman’s voice vibrates in your head as a reminder that these creatures will kill and eat you at some point. This was most likely one of their games.

Your sudden silence must of caught the golden creatures attention, it flicks its head to the side a complete 90°. It chirps at you and you notice that the tendrils on its head start to sway and flicks like flames. Now that you thought about it. It’s face look a lot like a kids drawing of-

“The sun.”

Just like the blue one it freezes suddenly. Eyes wide and tendrils still. Not only it, but even the blue one looks at you with wide eyes. The gold one slowly releases your head before starting to, what looks like, vibrate. It smiles wide before turning to the blue one and starts chirping and trilling in what you could only assume was excitement. As it does its face drifts closer And closer to the blue one till finally it puts its palm to the golden ones face and shoves its away.

The golden one give a yelp as it falls backwards from the push and the blue one stalks forward with an eerie smile. It’s your turn to freeze as it get up close and personal to the point you could see the swirl above its right eye. It opens its jaw which just keeps going. Wider and wider like an angular fish till it could easily fit your head and it looks that it’s going to do just that as you start to tremble.

You just barely see the barbs in the back of its throat as it’s open jaw practically engulfs your entire head. You even feel the tips of its lower jaw prick underneath your chin and smell the iron on its breath. Its going to bite your head off.

You feel every drop of blood grow cold in your veins as you look into the mouth of your demise. You knew it was an inevitable yet you cant help but tremble and whimper as this thing fits your entire head into its mouth. You close your eyes. Maybe it will b quick. .

Snap!

The crack of its jaw vibrates through out the enclosure. Yet you didn’t feel a thing, Was it really that quick.

You peak an eye open then both, blown wide as you get an eye full of its sharp grinning teeth. Shut tight like a bear trap, not even an inch from your face. You crumble to your knees with a shudder as the sharp filling of fear trickles out of your body.

“They like to play with their food.”

Your reminded yet again of the sick woman’s words as you watch the blue creature fall onto its back and laughs. It laughs so hard it holds its stomach and kicks its feet. It only stops when it receives a sharp snap to the back of its head by the tail of the gold one.

You watch in frightened shock as the gold ones tail, of which you first thought was a ribbon, wraps back around its waist before coming up to you. Where it proceeds to pick you up from the back of your jump suit. Scuffing you much like a mother cat does a kitten, and with the spiking trickle of adrenaline leaving your body, you were practically limp like one.

It lifts to its full height where you see your feet dangle several feet off the floor. Then starts to take you further into their enclosure. But not before giving a growl towards the blue one that make a snap at your limp hand. Which causes you to recoil in on yourself hard. Tucking your feet and hands as close to your chest as you could.

Closing your eyes you hear the exchange of growls and chatter between the 2 before you feel yourself being moved again. Your dangle from the golden ones mouth for only a few seconds till you feel yourself being plopped onto something soft. As you dear to open your eyes, you find yourself sitting in a nest made of various twigs, feathers, fabrics, and fluff. The golden creature then wraps itself around you in a secure position of which you couldn’t escape. Not without climbing over it that is. As it settles, you chance glancing around but you don’t see much other then the creatures body & the white ceiling of its enclosure.

That is till you see a dark tendril with a bulb at its end sway into your vision. You shutter before looking up and seeing the blue creature looking down at you. You swallow. It gives a sharp look but quickly schools its mischievous grin when you hear a chirp from the golden creature. The blue one rolls its eyes before lifting a clawed hand to you face.

Instinctively, you back away from it as it grows closer to your face. But you soon become pinned against the golden creatures body as the blue one encroaches more into your space. Once again you shut your eyes fearing it's claws carving into your soft skin. Only to feel your nose get pushed against your face. You open your eyes as the creature chuckles while it boops your nose.

You give it an incredulous look as it slowly slips away. Chuckling and trilling as it fades into the shadow of the golden creature.

After a few minutes you start to hear soft snoring. You hesitantly look at the lax face of the golden creature, then at the rise and fall of its shadow from the blue creature. Your just able to sit up enough to see the one way window to the observation room. Slowly, you try and test if you can get up and over the long body of the creature. But as you lay your hand on its side to hoist yourself up. You feel it shift and yourself being yoinked back.

You fall back against the creature, wincing till you look up to see the golden creature looking down at you. It’s sleepy eyes studying you till it gives a big yawn, showing off its teeth. As it does its tail unwrap from around its waist and around your. It settles back down with you firmly against it.

It begins to softly snore again as it falls back to sleep with you trapped in its tails hold. Despite it actually settling you in a comfortable position. Your mind continues to spiral with the constant reminder that these creatures play with there food. Which made them that much more unpredictable they act nice and playful now but soon enough they will get hungry and you will be on the menu.

You feel yourself taking shallow panicked breaths but you cover your mouth not wanting to wake the golden creature again. However, as your silent panic grows, you don’t take notice of the red eyes staring at you.

As you try to control your breathing, you start to hear a gentle humming in your ear. You snap to attention and look around for the source but as you do you cant help your eyes feeling heavy. The soft humming continues and you feel your entire body grow heavy like lead as you slump against the gold creature. Eventually you lose the fight and the beckoning to rest consumes you.

The last thing you see being the blood red eyes of the blue creature as you fall into unconsciousness.

[yandere-fics]

♡ Eliza Is A Serial Killer ♡

(this actually appeared to me in a dream last night.)

Murder in the city was by no means uncommon, lots of supernatural's killed lots of other people and considering supernatural's especially werewolves and certain kinds of demons liked to breed like ravenous beasts, there was never really a shortage of people in the city for those supernatural's to kill so for someone to be labelled a serial killer it had to become pretty bad in the city's eyes. larges amounts of people had to disappear before it started to even become something people cared about. But you knew about the serial killer before anyone was even aware the lack of people in your part of town might be cause for concern. You'd been receiving packages of meat from an admirer for months now at this point, clearly human meat because occasionally they didn't take too much care when it came to packaging and would just leave a human bone in there. You froze them in a deep freezer you'd bought shortly after these parcels had started to show up on your doorstep, at first you threw the first few out but you'd heard growling and had gotten a letter you couldn't decipher later so instead you just kept the meat and froze it hoping eventually they might get the message you didn't like the meat they were sending to you. You had no clue who these people were, people you knew weren't really disappearing so it was clear whoever was doing this was avoiding taking people you liked out of some sort of fear of hurting you or something, you weren't sure. What you were starting to realize though was as long as you never ate the meat they weren't going to come for you. Whatever this person was, this was clearly part of the mating ritual, getting you to eat the meat meant you'd accepted her as your mate, that's what the books you'd read on old supernatural mating rituals said at least. For now your plan was just to leave the meat alone and never touch it. Until you got your hours at work downgraded and felt yourself desperate to at least not have to spend extra money on non human meats. It only took you that first small paycheck to crack and feel the urge to cook some of that meat up, she'd never know and it was getting to the top of the deep freezer, at least it would clear some space out.

It was a slow transition, you only let yourself eat the meat once a day but it was tender, even parts that hadn't been packaged too well were tender as if she wanted to make sure you only had the finest cuts. Even before when you got plenty of hours at work you were sure you had never eaten so finely before and soon you found yourself reaching for the meat for every meal only to realize you'd reached the bottom of your reserve supply in just a month of consuming it. Perhaps you'd gone a little overboard but you really couldn't stop yourself when it came to that for some reason. Luckily the killer was never far behind on deliveries after noticing you were eating the meat which lead you to a year later, a full year of consuming human flesh, finally at a very healthy weight, no longer wasting away from not being able to afford meat due to your little secret, that the city finally noticed there was a serial killer lurking around though they had yet to figure out who it was or what supernatural type or even find a body. You'd been scrolling online while you were waiting for your steak dinner to cook when you noticed the forums appear and you were filled with a deep sense of shame. Every missing person mentioned was likely someone you had eaten and you realized this had to come to an end, you couldn't keep up this weird courtship you'd been having with a serial killer. Hell she'd even given you a valentines day gift and promised in messy handwriting that soon she'd finally come to claim you and you'd been somewhat looking forward to that if you were being honest. You liked what you had with her, you really didn't want to go back to normal animal food but you knew you were doing something wrong. You'd tried to justify it by pretending she'd kill at the same rate even if you rejected the food but that was a lie, since you'd eaten it regularly, you got deliveries more regularly. You should have ran from her or done literally anything to put a stop to this, at the very least you could have just not literally savored their meat like you had. You had to leave, and you had to do it when you knew the killer would be out on their hunt so they wouldn't notice you trying to slip away.

You weren't very lucky though, turns out she'd been hunting right outside your apartment that night, a big scary werewolf tearing some human to shreds, her ears lowering as she spotted you, ending her victims and quickly rushing towards you almost like she was worried about you. You tried not to look back at her victim, you were going to be sick if you had ot think even more about the things you'd done.

"Puppy! You really shouldn't be out this late! Were you looking for some more meat? Silly puppy, I told you Id bring the next delivery to you. Go wait inside." Ohhh, so that was what the horribly written letter had said, too be honest all you saw was soon because this werewolf as it turns out is highly illiterate. You wanted to attempt again but there was a big werewolf in front of you so you couldn't really deny her as you turned to go back into your apartment.

Eliza was so glad you listened to her. She'd been waiting so patiently for you to plump up enough to finally carry her pups but you'd been refusing to eat the meat at first so it'd taken a bit to finally get you where she needed you to be. After seeing you outside tonight however she was sure you were finally ready to take her seed, she was so excited.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞

↳ summary: donatello messes with something he shouldn't have, and now you have to deal with five of him. or; a reader insert of an original plot of mine

↳ warnings: fighting & canon type violence

↳ notes: happy halloween! as a treat have the third installment of this series. this takes place after of rats & men, and picks up before the invasion part one. the usual reminders that the reader is autistic, bad with feelings, and that this is a donnie + reader centered series

↳ taglist: @purplehyacinthx

↳ song: ninja rap—vanilla ice

part one | last part | masterlist | commisions | carrd

Donatello was stumped.

For the past few days, he had been locked in his lab. The heavy metal doors that separated him from the rest of his family only ever opened for food and water to pass through its confinements, swinging shut as soon as the transaction had been completed.

The turtle had been tinkering nonstop with some new Kraang technology. After the most recent bust of one of their warehouses sprinkled across New York, Mikey had spotted an odd glowing staff amongst a pile of junk. It had been labeled in a language Donnie couldn’t decipher, and he snatched it up for later, scolding his brother for playing lightsabers with it. Leo and Raph had waved it off without so much as a second glance, claiming that there were much more important things to do than look at a glorified scrap of metal.

That glorified scrap of metal, so to speak, is what he had been messing with for nearly four days. The detailed engravings on it were starting to blur under his gaze now, and the shine of metal from his room’s dull light left imprints on the inside of his eyelids.

“If I just apply the correct amount of pressure—" He mumbled quietly, rubbing at his eyes slowly. Dark purple bags hung underneath them, and if Raph were there, Donnie was sure he would have made a snappy comment about his appearance.

Without warning, a loud crash from the room over shook his lab. Donnie yelped at the unwelcome surprise and was sent bumping into his work table. Glass tubes clinked against each other noisily while he attempted to balance himself on one foot. From its place on the left of his desk, the staff clumsily teetered off the edge in a crude game of see-saw. With one more sigh from Donatello as the shaking stopped, it tipped, falling to the ground with a clatter.

It was scooped up in one quick motion and placed back on the desks surface, now glowing a faint purple as Donatello handled it. He barely spared it a moment's notice before rushing off in the direction of his doors.

“Mikey!” He yelled angrily through the crack he had made. “Would you keep it down?! You almost broke my experiment!”

“How do you know it was me, dude?” A whiney voice answered back.

“Because you’re the only one stupid enough to make that noise!"

Some more words were tossed back and forth between the two before Donatello ended the conversation by slamming the door on his brother. From behind it, he missed the way Mikey blew a fierce raspberry at him as he went back to his own activities.

Grumbling to himself, the teenager stalked back over to his desk. With a huff he flopped in the one good rolly chair he had left and sat lamely as it squeaked around in a circle. Taking a moment to massage at his temples, he only noticed the empty space on his table after he took out his microscope in preparation for another round of tests.

“Hey. Where did the staff go?”

None of the other brothers noticed the purplish-pink ray of light that shone through the crack of his lab door.

The sewers always stunk when you first climbed down into them. You didn't think that would ever change.

Pinching your nose as you oh so carefully descended into water reeking of filth, you looked down at your cracked phone screen one last time. A very poorly spelled text stared back, the words Michelangelo hovering above its contents. With one more furrow of your brows, you attempted to read it, coming up with nothing for the umpteenth time. All you knew was that it sounded urgent, and had a million exclamation points tacked onto the end. Which, knowing Mikey, could either mean that his favorite show had just been canceled or the world was about to end. You really hoped it was the first this time.

You had been walking downtown when the message came through. The trip was an aimless journey, really. You had nothing to do besides sit up in your room all day and look at the graying clouds. April and Casey were off doing their own things, hockey practice and calculus tutoring taking up time that could have otherwise been spent goofing off with you. Or at least snagging some pizza at Antonio’s.

With the promise of a day full of nothing hanging over your shoulders, you'd grabbed a jacket and set off into New York, sincerely hoping that it didn't start to rain anytime soon. Your umbrella had broken last month after someone ran over it with their bike, and you were still angry about it. The print on it had been green and plastered with the cartoony image of snapping turtles. It was part of the reason you had begged to get it as a child. A bit ironic, now that you look back on it.

Your footsteps slowed as you reached the entrance to a hallway that you were slowly getting more and more familiar with. Light breached your vision as you pried at a large metal door in the shape of a circle. A proud smile spread across your face as you stepped back enough to let it fully give way. The first time you’d tried that on your own, you’d ended up flat on your backside as Casey laughed nonstop from his place over you.

Climbing into the lairs entrance was the easy part. Making it a step further was the problem.

“Good! You’re here!” You just barely managed to catch a glimpse of a frantic green figure running around, chasing after someone that would occasionally let out a happy giggle.

“Raph?” You questioned the one out of the two you could recognize. Your brain felt as if it was running at half the speed it normally did. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

Raphael grunted as he went to answer your question, but foregoed the notion to tackle the figure he had been chasing to the ground. A loud oomph left his lips, and you wondered why he hadn’t just used his sais to corner them.

“No time to explain.” He snapped with a huff. “Just help me find the other Donnies.”

“Other Donnies?”

You blinked, watching closer this time as he struggled to keep a hold on the happily squirming figure underneath him. Once you got past the initial shock of having Raph body slam someone to the ground two seconds after you showed up, you got a better look at the person he had pinned. Sure enough, it was Donatello. But at the same time, much much different.

Instead of a purple bandana, a yellow one sat wrapped around his eyes, right above the happiest smile you’d ever seen come from someone. You noticed he also seemed to be devoid of his usual bo staff; something he almost never left without.

He had a faint spray of freckles underneath his eyes, and it reminded you of his younger brother. His normally pristine elbow pads were smudged with soot and water. You recalled a time he had gotten upset with Leo for messing with his leather accessories.

Your eyes continued to sweep over this new addition to the Hamato family. It was like someone had taken your friend and molded him into someone completely new.

“Tag! You’re it!” This new version of Donnie happily laughed, coming up and hitting Raph between the head with a soft boop. His brother's eyes crossed for a moment before growing and looking at you.

“Get the idea now, genius?” He glowered.

“Am I supposed to believe that he—" You limply gestured at the yellow Donnie “—is your brother?”

“No! That’s the whole point! I don’t know what Donnie did with that Kraang thing, but now we’ve got five of him running around and, they’re all crazy!”

When he mentioned the Kraang, you winced. You’d run into them and their oddly humanoid bots a few times before, and were not eager to repeat the process. Last time, it had ended up with a batch of glowing green liquid just barely missing your face.

“So there’s four more of them?” You asked. By now you were approaching Raph, who was tying up the giggling Donatello with rope he pulled from who knows where.

“Yeah.” He tied off the end of a knot gruffly. “Mikey and Leo are handling some of the others right now, but there’s not enough of us.”

“So you called me.” The tone of your voice was very unimpressed as you stared down at him. He returned the look mockingly.

“Yeah, idiot. It’s not like we know anyone else that can help with this.” He stated like it was a fact.

“Uhm, hello? April? Casey? Your dad of all people?”

“Splinter is in a deep meditation session today. And I don't think April or Casey would want to help with this too much.” Raphael brushed off the edges of his shell as he stood. You wanted to tell him that it didn’t do too much, considering the giant crack zigzagging down the front of his plastron, but thought better of it.

“How do you figure?” Was what you settled on.

“Have you seen the way Donnie looks at April?” Raph squinted at you knowingly. “He’s practically a lovesick puppy when it comes to her. We don’t need that right now. It’ll probably end with a turf war between the five of them over her.” A pause. “And Casey would just end up messing things up more than helping.” He added the last part as an afterthought, and you shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough’.

“April? Oh, I love April!” The Donatello lookalike on the ground gasped. Both you and Raph glanced down at him. Besides a few bubbly giggles, he had been so quiet the past few minutes that you’d almost forgotten he was there.

“We know wise guy.” Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Or, at least what you thought was the bridge of his nose. You really couldn’t tell with them.

“Yeah!” Yellow Donnie beamed. “She’s such a great friend! I’m so lucky to have met her.”

At the word friend, your eyes widened. Slowly, as if you had imagined it, you turned to look at Raph in shock, finding him doing the same thing.

“Okay. Something is very wrong with him.” You stated carefully. Like you were talking to a tiny child. Raph nodded, outwardly cringing as he looked back down at the copy and paste of his brother.

“Come on.” He poked at them with the edge of his foot, “Let’s find the others. See if we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

The best way you could adjust to the scene in front of you was with a few seconds of poorly timed surprise.

Raph didn’t stop as you tripped over your own feet, tugging the yellow Donatello along behind him and into the originals lab. Briefly you wondered if there was a better name you could give the new turtle, and filed the thought away fo later.

A part of you had hoped that Raphael was lying, and that this whole thing had been a giant misunderstanding. You wouldn’t put it past the four brothers to get themselves into a load of trouble, only to realize after that it had been entirely their fault. Again.

Four more carbon copies of Donatello sat in various spots around the room. In a weird way, it was like you were looking at a mirror maze with Donnie in the center of it all—his outline projected into each corner of the room. All but one of them were tied up, and you took a moment to get a good look.

Michelangelo was crouching next to someone with a deep blue bandana; not yellow or purple this time. It threw you for a loop to see that color on anyone but Leo, and you took a moment to get used to it. Besides that, the Donatello didn’t appear to be doing anything besides pouting in his confines. His eyes were glassy, and it looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Opposite the room was another version of Donnie. He had on a bright green bandana that stood out against his more muted skin tone. No one stood next to him as he clutched his legs to his chest tightly—not that he had much of a choice, considering the rope around them. He made small rocking motions, going back and forth while his eyes darted around the room frantically. A little pang of sympathy struck you, and you immediately squashed it.

Raphael tossed the smiling Donnie he had caught down next to someone else you couldn’t see. Positioning your neck to crane over Raph’s shoulder, you grimaced at the sight of an extremely dopey looking Donnie. He seemed to be a more tame version.

Much like his yellow counterpart, he was smiling impossibly wide. Looking at him made your face ache.

Instead of insisting on a game of friendly tag, he appeared to be staring off into the distance, occasionally mumbling something to himself as he practically made heart eyes at a brick wall.

“What’s his deal?” You murmured. Raph looked back with a shrug.

“He ran out of here looking like that. Asked where you were when we found him. Been pretty quiet ever since.” He offered. One of your eyebrows practically shot into your hairline at his words, and stayed there as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Raph rolled his eyes. “I know just as much as you do, toots.”

Sticking a finger into your mouth, you pretended to vomit at the nickname. Raph hit you on the top of the head, and you quit the theatrics to take a swipe at him.

“Raph.” A stern voice interrupted both of you, bringing your attention over to a more familiar face. Although, at this point, you were getting plenty familiar with Donnie’s.

“Sorry Leo.” Raphael addressed his brother with a grunt. In the second he took to answer, he seemed to become more stiff, and you instinctively felt the urge to mimic it. Following his line of sight from behind his shell, you found the source of his discomfort.

A fifth and final Donatello sat on top of the originals desktop, legs spread and arms propped gallantly on top of them as he glowered at everything. A singular, vibrant strip of fabric encased his face, and it looked more like a stripe of fresh blood than a mask.

His eyes flickered from each corner of the room to the next. The shade of rusty red you’d gotten used to seeing in Donnie’s eyes felt more lethal now. Cold and calculating. Like the red dot snipers used to scope out their next kill.

This one gave you more of a pause than any of the other Donnies had. A stray finger twitched as you felt the urge to grab at your tazer, and you pushed that feeling down just in time for his steely gaze to land on you. It flickered away a mere second later, and if it had been any faster, you would have thought you imagined it.

“Good. We’re all here.” The mutant spoke firmly. It was identical to the tone that your friend used, but filled with ill intentions. So much so, that your skin crawled with unease at the sound. Silently you willed it to go away.

Leonardo stood off by the red Donatello’s side. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. He barely even nodded in your direction as a greeting before going back to watching the newcomer like a hawk. Tension sparked between them, and your mouth began to feel as dry as their air.

“I see you got stabby here to calm down.” Raph deadpanned as he spoke to Leo and Mikey, nodding once again at red Donnie; whose face had begun to sour. The copycat said nothing as he bore holes into the side of Raphael’s head.

“His name's Ronnie!” Michelangelo piped up before Leo would even get in a word. From the sigh that the leader let out, you could only deduce that they’d already had a fight over Mikey's inability to not nickname something for more than five seconds. The older turtle had apparently lost this round.

“Creative.” Raphael said sarcastically.

“Thanks dude!” Mikey preened, not catching onto the tone. “I call him that because red and Donnie makes Ronnie!”

“Wouldn’t that make his full name Ronatello?” You snickered to yourself at the sound of it, successfully bringing the attention of the so called Ronnie to yourself. You let your laughter pitter out under his gaze.

“Enough small talk. We have much to discuss.” He frowned. You repeated the action back in his direction; admittedly with a bit more attitude than you probably needed to.

Looking away from you with a huff, he jumped off the table in one smoke motion. For the first time, you noticed him twirling a shiny object in his hands. It resembled the bo staff that the Donatello you knew constantly hauled around; granted with a lot of modifications. Glowing purple symbols ran up and down the sides, and the color scheme immediately reminded you of the Kraang.

At the sight of you looking, Ronnie held it tighter.

“Listen.” He began harshly. “I don’t know why I’m here. Why we’re here. But I know we don’t belong. If any of my other counterparts had a brain, I’m sure they’d agree with me.” He sighed at the reference to everyone else in the room. Boredom crept in through his voice like a poison.

“Do you have any idea how to fix this?” Leo cleared his throat in a business like fashion. You almost applauded him for being so calm about this, and then noticed how he’d occasionally glance at the blue Donnie’s mask with a hint of distaste. Fair enough. That was his brand, you suppose.

“No, I don't.” Ronnie bit out as the answer to Leo’s question, looking upset at just having to admit it. “If I had to guess, this had something to do with it.”

He held out the stick you’d been paying attention to earlier with conviction. Leo positioned his palm outward as if expecting Ronnie to drop it in his hands, and awkwardly drew it back when he realized that they weren’t letting go of it anytime soon.

“Donnie was messing with that a few days ago!” Mikey mentioned from somewhere next to you. He was still low to the ground, talking to the blue Donatello— who looked less like crying, and more like he was pouting.

“I saw an episode on TV like this once.” You cut in. “This is Kraang technology, right? In the show, some guy touched a, uh, alien thing he shouldn’t have and ended up with, like, split personalities. In this case I guess they ended up turning into real people. Er, turtles.”

“Oh great. Thanks for the help. Now we know exactly what we have to do.” Raph rolled his eyes and said your name. This time you were the one to deliver a hearty slap to the back of his shell. Somewhere below you, a strangled gasp sounded. Looking down, you discovered that the pink Donnie had moved his staring contest from the wall to you, mouth open wide enough to catch a dozen flies. You crinkled your brow suspiciously and made a face back.

“Stop it guys.” Leo directed a stern look at the both of you. You broke uncomfortable eye contact with the Donnie clone just to point at Raph as if to say he started it. Ronnie watched on, his gaze on you growing more and more unimpressed by the second.

“However juvenile the explanation, your friend may have a point.” Ronnie eventually concluded. While you most certainly didn’t appreciate the tone in which he said it, you grinned sardonically at him. Somewhere behind you someone— who you were sure was the yellow Donnie —praised you for doing a good job. You ignored him.

“So, what? We’ve got Donnie’s different personalities running around?” Raph chewed at his bottom lip in thought. You nodded, taking your TV show theory and running with it.

“If I had to guess, you guys are all based on his different emotions.” You directed your words to Ronnie. He raised an eyebrow and nodded, a silent motion to continue.

“Yellow probably means happiness.” A finger came up as you physically counted the doppelgängers surrounding you. “Blue for sad, hence all the crying, green for nerves, and pink for affection. But I’m spitballing on the last one.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of paranoia for the green guy.” Raph snorted. You briefly looked back at the subject of your conversation, now finding him in the fetal position, and shrugged.

“Yeah that checks out.” You nodded. “If I had to guess, Ronnie over here is something along the lines of anger or annoyance.”

At the mention of his name, Ronnie blinked blankly at you. You scoffed.

“Come on man. You’ve practically been staring daggers at everyone this entire time.”

“And he tried to kill us!” Mikey supplied you with way too much enthusiasm.

“I’m ignoring that in favor of moving on.“

As you turned back to look at him, Ronnie didn’t look any kind of soothed by your words. If anything his glowering only increased.

“Well maybe if I wasn’t surrounded by such simpletons—"

“Alright guys.” Leo butt in with his eyes screwed up. “We can argue later. For now, let’s focus on getting things back to normal.”

“More normal than living in the sewers?”

“Mikey, I think I like you better when you’re quiet.”

“Aw, you’ve been saying that for years big bro!”

Ignoring the exchange between Raphael and Mikey, Ronnie’s gaze was still locked on you. It took a bit of unrelenting eye contact for him to back down first.

You didn’t feel any better afterwards.

“Fine.” Ronnie huffed. With a one last survey of you all, he turned to the more cluttered part of Donnies lab.

“Does anyone know where to find a good microscope around here?”

It had been five hours since Ronnie had started his research with Leonardo, and you were this close to tearing your hair out.

After calming the other personalities down— and having them promise that they wouldn’t run the second you untied them —they had been released from the ropes. True to their words, none of them sprinted in the nearest direction of an exit. In fact, most of them looked pretty content to stay sat shoulder to shoulder in the living room—all gathered around a rerun of some sitcom. Green was the only exception. He hadn’t stopped chewing at his nails ever since being let out, and flinched at any approach you made to invite him over.

It was like trying to babysit four extremely tall toddlers. One minute you were calming Blue down— you had given up on nicknames beyond the colors of their masks —and the next you were shaking Pink off your leg. For some reason, that one really didn’t like to get too far from you. At this point you were considering just strapping him down again.

“I am going to kill something if they don't hurry up.” You had complained to Mikey after being sent for snacks in the kitchen. He shrugged sheepishly and went back to feeding Ice Cream kitty with sprinkles in a high pitched voice. Tossing the chilly mutant a slight wave, you pushed past the two to gather up as much food in your arms as possible.

Yellow gave you a large gapped tooth smile when you returned to drop a bag of chips into his lap. It crinkled faintly.

“Salt and vinegar.” He ogled at the blue bag like it was the holy grail. “My favorite!”

“I know.” You said blandly while handing the rest of the bags out. “For some reason that’s always been Donnie’s choice. With how much he talks about Mikey’s bad eating habits, he sure does choose the worst flavor possible.”

Yellow rewards your spiel with a happy hum. Chip crumbs already dotted the outside of his mouth, and you resisted the urge to reach over and bat them off with your sleeve. You might have done that with Donnie, but he wasn’t here right now. Just a bunch of strange versions of him.

You didn’t like the way your heart seized at that.

“So what’s up with you and us? Or Donatello. The other Donatello.”

The lairs ceiling came into brief contact with your head as you practically jumped five feet in the air. Sometime during your talk with yellow, Green had shuffled over to loom silently over your shoulder. Different Donnie, same bodies, and same freakish height difference.

He repeated the question again, although significantly quieter.

“Give me a minute to get used to my new concussion.” You grumbled without any real malice. He shrunk away at that and wrung his hands anxiously.

Once you got over the initial spook, your brain booted back up to fully process the question.

“What do you mean?” A hand thrust itself out from your person and offered Pink, who had found his way to your side again, another bag of chips. He took it with a breezy giggle you’d only heard from Donnie when he talked to April. You looked at him suspiciously before moving on.

“You seem to have a strong relationship with him.” Greens reiterated. He appeared to have settled on talking about his original with a separate tense.

You made a face in his general direction as a response. Combing through the last few days in your mind, you came up with nothing, offering an unbothered shrug.

“He’s friends with my friends. And a talking turtle. It’s not like I can really go to anyone else for the crazy stuff that happens to me.”

Green squinted at you. It was the closest emotion other than fear that he’d shown so far. He might have added more to the conversation, if the way his mouth opened told you anything, but his brief inhale was cut short by a sudden noise. It startled him so much, this time he was the one to jump up in the air and scurry away.

“Guys, I think we’ve found something.”

Leonardo had been the one to interrupt your conversation with a loud thump. From his place across everyone in the living room, he looked disheveled. His mask tails were laying over each of his shoulders, and looked like a very weird version of pigtails.

Wordlessly, you looked up at him from his sudden appearance, nodding curiously in the direction of the others. It was a silent question.

Leo shook his head back at you in the form of an answer, and you ended the mental exchange with a pat to your legs.

“Hey Mikester!” You yelled loud enough to where it would reach the kitchen. Five pairs of eyes followed your gaze. “I’ve got to use the bathroom! Watch the others!”

“That’s not the way to the bathroom—"

You completely ignored Blue as you slipped through the doors to Donnie’s workplace. With a creak, they swung shut, and you were left staring at two stiff turtles.

“Do you really have to be that obvious?” Ronnie’s lips dipped into frown territory as he commented on your less than graceful departure. He was sitting yet again on the desk's countertop, balancing a clean test tube on his knee pad as he messed with a metal scrap.

You noted the pairs of gloves and safety goggles he wore—equipment that Donnie had personally modified to fit his body. The ease at which they were worn on someone else sent a spark of emotions through your bloodstream.

“Do you really have to be such an asshole?” You deadpanned after a moment of tense silence.

The look-a-like glared at you, but said nothing else.

“Listen up,” Leo said your name, clearly not entertained by the conversation that had just played out in front of him. “We think we’ve found a way to get Donatello back.”

Strolling up to the station that they were standing around, you peeked past the katanas on Leo’s shell to see the silver staff from earlier. It was propped firmly on the table, and a few pieces of its outer shell had been stripped away, revealing an internal structure of wires zigzagging over one another.

If the way he was twitching anxiously said anything, Ronnie didn’t exactly like it.

“I’m listening.”

Leo launched into a fumbled explanation of what they had been tinkering with. From what you could pick up, they had been looking at the inside of it to get a feel for how the device worked, and now Ronnie had a general idea of how to send all five of them back to wherever they had come from.

Overall, the choppy explanation was filled with words you were sure he didn’t understand; and neither did you. Normally you would stop to ask Donatello what most of them meant, and if he was feeling bold he’d launch into an entire explanation. As you side eyed Ronnie from your spot next to him, you didn’t think you’d be doing that anytime soon.

“So my hypothesis, or whatever it’s called, was right?” Your hoodie pockets were filled with the absentminded fiddling of your hands as Leo paused to consider your words. He nodded at you in conformation.

“We think that the staff was meant to multiply Kraang bots. Making them stronger and faster than before.”

“Oh oh wait, let me guess. It didn’t work.”

“Obviously not.” Ronnie sighed at your obvious sarcasm. His tooth gap created a whistling noise that you had heard many times before. “Instead of dividing one organism into multiple, stronger organisms, it simply split the subject into parts of itself.”

It was strange. How such a small, skinny device could cause so much ruckus in just one day. You had been looking for some entertainment, but nothing that involved this level of calamity. Or effort, if you were being honest. You liked the guys, but you also liked really long and really uninterrupted naps.

“Do you know how to reverse it?”

Ronnie fell silent. Observing him through the pair of tinted lab goggles around his face proved difficult, but you picked up on the way his jaw clenched dangerously. A lone vein strained against his neck.

“Yes. He does.” Leo answered for him, awkwardly glancing between you and the other member in the room. You didn’t take your eyes off the duplicate long enough to notice.

“What do we have to do then?” Came your eventual query. “Gather all of them up and force ‘em back together?”

“I think it’d be a bit more intense than that.” Leo tilted his hand sideways and shook it in a wavy motion, symbolizing the difficulty of the situation. You resisted the urge to mimic the action curiously.

Craning your neck, you turned to look at Ronnie expectingly.

“Well? Come on smart guy, what’s the plan.”

He had angled himself away from the both of you. The expanse of his shell rose and fell as he breathed, and it was oddly quiet. Scars of all kinds dotted the back of his shell, and you couldn’t recall ever seeing them on Donatello’s before.

“Ronnie?”

“The plan—" He clutched at the staff tightly. You didn’t remember him even reaching for it. “—is to get rid of them.”

You exchanged a wary glance at Leo, and saw that he was slowly reaching for the katanas at his back. The hilt unsheathed with a cool hiss.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“Alright.” You took a slow step backward in the direction of an exit. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Ronnie positioned the staff in front of him as he spoke. The top end of it peaked over the crest of his head. With a nervous swallow, you watched as he methodically placed the scraps of metal that had been torn off of it back on. “Unfortunately, they seem to be a little late.”

Without warning, Ronnie whipped around and launched himself off of the table. Red and green mixed together in a blur of ugly brown before your eyes. You didn’t waste time seeing if he was heading for you or Leo—you just kicked your legs into gear, fumbling to keep your balance as you ran.

Blood began to pool in the lower corners of your mouth. Without having to feel around, you knew you’d bit down on your tongue. The throbbing pain was almost as bad as the burst of purple light that skimmed by the side of your head. It was close enough for you to feel the whoosh it left behind, as well as the scorching heat. Your pulse began to thrum louder.

“It’s always the weird ones!” You half screamed, half heaved over the sound of fighting. Leo offered no response other than a few grunts and a clashing of metal versus metal. It offered you no relief—other than the fact that a giant angry mutant wasn’t at your heels.

Okay, so a little relief. Sorry Leonardo.

“Don't bother trying the doors.” Ronnie smiled widely in your direction. He threw his arm back for another strike, and it landed in the middle of Leo’s plastron with an oomph.

You, being stupid, tried the doors anyway.

“Alright, alright, alright. I guess I’m doing this today.” You sucked in a sharp breath of when they refused to give way. Turning from the handles and glancing around the room, you looked for something that could possibly help. Leo appeared to be holding his own against the parallel version of his brother, but you had no idea how long that would last. Especially with the threatening glow coming from his staff.

While you scrambled to think of something— of anything —a fat drop of sweat rolled down the expanse of Leo's neck.

His footing was growing increasingly sloppy as Ronnie pushed him further and further back to the wall. Each lunge was as fierce as the last, and trying to strike back was like hitting a brick wall. A brick wall that was coated with concrete and surrounded by titanium. Either Donnie had been working out lately, or the staff had given him some serious upgrades

“Why are you doing this?!” Leo was just barely able to speak over it all. Even still, Ronnie pushed on.

“Donatello is weak.” He snarled. The corners of his lips curled up in tandem with a sweep at Leo’s legs. The leader barely managed to jump over it while blocking yet another jab from the Kraang staff. It was humming loudly now, and the noise unnerved him.

Leonardo was faintly aware of the yelling and desperate banging coming from the opposite side of the nearby door. It sounded like the rest of his brothers had caught on to what was happening and were trying in vain to get in. Leo wondered why the hell he hadn’t insisted on Raph staying with him now.

“Your brother is a joke!” Ronnie continued angrily. He landed a hit on Leo’s shoulder this time.

“He won’t stand a chance against the villains out there. He wouldn’t stand a chance against me! None of you could! I should be the one protecting this city. The only one. I’m the better version of you; unbothered by junk food and affection.” He spat the last part like it was the name of a disease.

“Leave April out of this!” Leo stepped back enough to point the end of one of his katanas at Ronnie, his mouth pulled into a thin line of anger. It made the red-masked foe pause as his face dropped.

“You all are more idiotic than I thought.” He gritted his teeth with obvious annoyance. “I was not referring to that human—"

Without another word, Ronnie begins to jolt in place. Wide eyed, Leonardo watches as the enemy seemingly glitches, arms spasming and body glowing in a nearly see-through manner. He manages to get out a few more violent spasms before collapsing to the floor in a heap of limbs and shell.

Behind his folded figure stands you, chest heaving. A very different looking tazer sits heavily in your hand.

Leo says nothing. He simply looks between you, then the tazer, then you, and then back at the tazer again. After a moment of eyeing the new chunks of technology nestled along its sides, he slowly lowers his gaze to look at Ronnie.

“Sorry. I was going to let him finish his evil speech, but he sounded too much like ‘Tello and it was starting to freak me out.”

You step over Ronnie’s body cautiously and quickly make your way over to Leo’s side. Silence encompasses the two of you, and each one wonders what the other is thinking.

“So new weapon, huh?”

“Don had some stuff lying around. I figured it was time for an upgrade.”

It was then that the lab doors decided to burst open, providing its mostly conscious inhabitants with a bunch of yelling mutants. Somewhere in the entanglement of green limbs, you thought you saw Yellow trip and fall on his face.

“Mikey, put the pizza box down. We already got it.”

At the request of his older brother, Michelangelo sheepishly lowered the greasy cardboard box. Ice cream kitty had been resting on its yellowed surface; looking very melted and very fierce as she bared her tiny chocolate fangs.

“What the hell happened!” An angry voice shouted. Its owner shoved past the mini crowd that had gathered around Ronnie, and Raph stormed forward. His sais were pointed in the direction of the ground, but you couldn’t help thinking he looked angry enough to use them.

“We were just talking about how I should probably start training.” You rolled your eyes and expertly avoided the question.

Ignoring the way that Leonardo sent you a very ‘I told you so’ look, you scoot forward slightly to nudge at Ronnie’s leg. It rolls with the force of the action before motionlessly falling back into place.

“How did you know that would stop him?” Leo clears his throat to ask. The group watches him in joint confusion at his words. He simply points at the upgraded tazer in your hand to clarify.

“I didn’t.” You frowned. “I just grabbed some of the leftover scraps from the table you were messing at, and put it on this.” You held your trusty weapon up with a small shake, jumping slightly when it sparked in your hand.

“I don’t spend so much time around a bunch of nerds without picking up a few things, dude.”

“Guys—" Mikey spoke up. He sounded shaken, and everyone saw as he crept toward the door when they looked up.

“As much as I love cool sticks, I think that one has something seriously wrong with it.”

You looked at the only cool stick in the room, yelping as it shook violently in place. A giant purple ring had surrounded it sometime during your impromptu catch-up, and looked like the definition of bad news.

“Everyone out!” Raph yelled, pointing at the nearest exit while making a dive for it himself. You barely managed to make it out the doors after him, throwing your arms in front of your face as you landed face down on the cold concrete below.

A large explosion sounded from behind you just as you managed to lift your head. The smell of gunpowder and something more acidic filled your nose as you coughed. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was your nose hairs burning. It was probably your nose hairs burning.

“Where are the other Donnies?”

It was almost as if Leo’s question had summoned him. Well, maybe. You didn’t know. What you did know was that a grating noise began to fill your ears— making you feel like this living hell was finally complete —before a pair of charred lab doors peeled back to reveal a burnt looking Donatello.

His face was covered in soot from top to bottom, and the rest of him looked the same. He had on singed knee and arm pads where they previously lay spotless. The strap around his chest was black at the edges. Confusion peppered his face.

But most importantly, that familiar lilac mask was back where it belonged.

“Yes!” You shouted your name with a whoop. All of the turtles turned to look at you on the ground, observing the triumphant smile stretching from ear to ear. “I save the day, and the turtle! Again!”

Mikey, Raph, Leo, and Donnie all let you have your moment of victory. The latter of them all looked confused and equally as tired. Still, he waited for you to tire yourself out, which didn’t take long.

“Should I even ask.” He coughed as you calmed down. Leo shook his head while Raph scoffed.

“I thought dealing with one of you was bad enough.” Raphael snorted. Despite his harsh words, a glimmer of relief swam to the surface of his gaze, and Donnie pretended not to notice.

You fully retired from the conversation as Master Splinter eventually entered the room, looking frustrated to no end.

“What is all this noise?” His tone bordered on harsh. “You broke me out of my seven days of meditation.”

You focused on melting into the cool sewer floor as the four turtles stumbled over each other's explanations. Leo yelped out something about sparring, while Mikey cut him off with his own explanation. The only time you tuned back into the conversation was when Raph mentioned your name.

With a snicker, you propped yourself up from the floor to look at everyone.

“Sorry Master Splinter. We were just beating the shit out of Donnie’s evil clone.”

Everyone around you immediately exploded into yelling.

You weren’t able to make eye contact with any of the boys for the rest of the night without laughing—set off by their look of utter betrayal.

“I can’t believe you’d rat us out.”

“That’s what you get for making me babysit four of Donnie, asshole.”

They all forgave you when you showed up with pizza the next day.

[eksvaized]

[ Previous ┃ Next ] [ All In One ] part 4, MDNI

You and Simon are eating dinner. The curtains are drawn shut, but the living room is littered with flickering candles. Their soft glow bounces off the walls and casts dancing shadows around the floor. The crackling fireplace provides a soothing background noise on an otherwise quiet evening. You nestle on the couch, feeling the softness of the plush pillows against your back as your legs cross. Meanwhile, Simon sits on the carpet, engrossed in his meal. His body is hunched over the low coffee table, his elbows placed on its wooden surface.

In your hands, you cradle a simple white bowl, its edges worn from years of use. It’s filled with a warm porridge, with the steam rising in gentle wisps from its surface. Your fingers curl around the handle of a spoon. Its metal is cold against your skin. You drag the spoon around in a slow, circular motion. With detached curiosity, you watch as the thick, brown mush whirls around in the bowl, creating an odd yet mesmerising pattern. You’ve never been one to turn your nose up at food. Especially in a world where each meal is a blessing and food scarcity is a harsh reality. Yet, right now, despite the gnawing hunger that tugs at your stomach, you can’t seem to muster the will to finish the dinner before you.

“I’m full,” you declare with a sigh. The bowl in your hands feels heavy as you set it down. The spoon clinks against the edge before sinking into the porridge.

“You barely ate anything,” Simon shoots back, his words muffled by the food in his mouth. “Finish it.”

You shake your head. Your gaze darts between him and the food; though to label it as food feels like trying to sell a pebble as a diamond.

“Not hungry.”

“Either you eat it yourself, or I’ll feed you,” he threatens, fixing his eyes on you. You study his face, trying to decipher if he is serious or not. His expression is unreadable. Yet something about his countenance tells you he isn’t joking.

“I don’t want to. It’s disgusting.”

You feel like a spoiled child refusing to eat something they don’t like. But given that your stomach refuses to cooperate, you resolve that you’ll finish this unappetising meal in the morning.

“I miss the salt. This… this—” you pick up the spoon once more, scooping a portion of the gruel, holding it up for inspection, and then turn it upside down, allowing the mush to drip back into the bowl. “… is not good.”

Simon rolls his eyes in exasperation and stands up. Holding his bowl in one hand, he sits on the couch next to you. You watch him with curiosity. When he tries to feed you, you jerk back and break into peals of laughter, shaking your head in adamant refusal.

“No, no, Simon. Please,” you keep giggling as he chases your mouth with the spoon.

Eventually, Simon concedes defeat, relenting in his pursuit after you assure him you will eat later.

“But it’ll get cold,” he points out. “It won’t taste as good anymore.”

“It already is terrible. It’s hardly possible for it to become any worse.”

Once Simon finishes eating, he tells you he has a surprise. He retrieves his worn duffel bag from the room’s corner and rummages through it. Your curiosity peaks as you watch him, wondering what he will pull out. Unable to resist, you ask him what he’s searching for, but he remains silent, increasing your suspense. Finally, his hands emerge, cradling a small, wrinkled napkin as though it’s a precious gem. He unfolds it and shows you what is in his palm: five cigarettes. You wrinkle your nose in distaste and your body recoils. You’ve never been a smoker, and to be honest, you’ve always considered it a rather nasty habit. The smell of tobacco is unbearable for you, as repulsive as the stench of rotten eggs. You’ve never actually tried it; you suspect the taste is equally off-putting.

“You’re joking, right? This is an awful surprise,” you tell him with a hint of disappointment in your voice.

Unfazed by your response, he shrugs and replies, “If you don’t want them, I’ll happily keep them all to myself.”

You nod your head.

“Where did you even find them?” You ask, puzzled because you don’t recall him ever leaving your side when you were out scavenging for supplies.

“In your brother’s room. They were hidden in the nightstand, tucked behind a pile of notebooks,” he says, standing up and walking towards the fireplace, which is still crackling with warmth. He kneels and uses the flickering flames to light one cigarette, all the while avoiding the hot pot hanging above the fire.

“My brother doesn’t smoke,” you say, rolling your eyes at his explanation. But then, a sudden realisation strikes you. You remember several instances when your brother would lock himself in his room. When he finally emerged, he and his bed would reek of cheap spray deodorant.

You can’t help but stare as Simon positions the lit cigarette between his slightly parted lips, inhaling deeply and unhurriedly. An almost ecstatic expression sweeps over his face as he savours the flavour. A sound similar to a moan or a satisfied groan escapes his mouth when he exhales. He sits on the couch and spreads his legs, tossing his head back into the pillow behind him.

Your mouth is parched. The dryness makes your throat feel rough, like sandpaper, as you attempt to swallow the saliva that has accumulated in your mouth. The once bothersome smell of smoke now seems insignificant. An ominous grey cloud hovering above your head, which you once detested for fear of its lingering nicotine scent permeating your house, fades into the background. Your gaze fixates on his lips. You notice the half-smoked cigarette precariously hanging between his index finger and thumb. In this moment, Simon exudes an irresistible allure, emitting raw, undeniable heat. Though you’ve always found him handsome, an abrupt shift occurs within you, as if a switch has been flipped. Suddenly, you see him in a new light. A desire to snatch the cigarette from him, pull him close, and kiss him sparks within you.

The sensation of heat, like a fervent flame, courses through your body. It’s an intense, unignorable feeling that causes you to curl your body tighter. Your thighs squeeze together, a subconscious reaction to the warmth spreading within you. You bite your lower teeth, sinking your canines into the soft flesh, only stopping when it starts to hurt. Suddenly, the room, which was just a moment ago cool, feels hot. The surrounding air becomes dense and heavy. It presses you down into the plush cushions of the couch. Your chest tightens, and it’s hard to breathe as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. You realise that you’re behaving like a nerdy schoolgirl with a crush on a jock. But you try to rationalise that it just has been a long time since you were in the presence of a handsome guy. You tell yourself that your body’s reaction is natural.

Yet, you don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to acknowledge the feelings coursing through your veins. So, in an attempt to distract yourself, you point at the lit cigarette in his hand.

“You know, I think I’d like to give it a shot,” you say, extending your fingers towards him.

He raises an eyebrow at you. A playful smirk forms on his lips.

“I thought you don’t smoke,” he teases you and takes another deep drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for an extended period, longer than necessary, just to provoke you.

Your response is a glare, and he can’t help but chuckle at the intensity of your gaze. Still entertained, he passes the cigarette over to you. You inhale. The unfamiliar sensation triggers a coughing fit, which only causes his laugh to increase in volume. After your second attempt, it becomes obvious to him you don’t have a clue how to smoke. So, Simon decides to teach you, insisting that if you want to smoke, you at least should do it right and not waste the precious cigarettes. He positions himself in front of you, his body mere inches away from yours. With a confident gesture, he plucks the cigarette from your grasp and demonstrates how it’s done, showing you the proper way to smoke.

“Your turn,” he says, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. Instead of handing you the cigarette, he raises it to your mouth. Your lips part instinctively, as if drawn by an unseen force, and your eyes stay focused on his face. Intrigued, you watch him as his gaze travels along the contour of your lips.

“Inhale, slowly. Don’t rush,” he instructs, his voice barely above a whisper. As these words leave his lips, you feel his hand brushing lightly against your jaw. The brief contact sends shivers down your spine. You follow his instructions, and as you do so, he pulls the cigarette away from your lips. The taste of nicotine lingers on your tongue, bitter and harsh. You force yourself to suppress the instinctive urge to cough.

“Now,” he continues, “take a deep breath, let the smoke travel down your throat, feel it filling your lungs.” As you obey his command, the smoke burns in your throat. Yet you’re so focused on Simon that you barely notice the discomfort. “Hold it in for a couple of seconds and exhale. Slowly.”

As you exhale, the smoke billows out and hits his face. Simon scrunches his nose but says nothing. You both remain frozen, looking at each other, lost in a moment that seems to stretch on for an eternity. Your distraction worked, but now that it’s over, your desire to kiss him hasn’t waned. You move closer to Simon. When he doesn’t back away, you lean in further. Yet, as soon as your nose brushes against his, he pulls back and coughs. The sudden realisation of what you were about to do hits you like a wave. You blush, diverting your gaze to hide your embarrassment.

For the rest of the evening, neither of you dares to bring up the fact that you almost kissed. As you sit on the couch, side by side, your leg brushing against his from time to time, you’re both aware of the tangible tension that has settled between you. It’s a shame that the two of you stay silent because you are thinking the same thing: you shouldn’t have pulled away. He wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

[jabberwockymoreau]

So very excited to finally be able to post my @aftgsecretsnowflake gift for the wonderful @sturmdunkel! I'm incredibly in love with this AU I came up with for your robot prompt, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it <3

Tags: T, Andrew/Neil, Alternative Universe – Sci Fi, Sci Fi AU, Robots and Androids, Robot AU, Aftg Secret Snowflake

Length: 10k

Summary:

Andrew Minyard has drawn his lot in life. Working a boring job as a gas station attendant by day and earning some extra cash fixing up whatever cyborgs and androids pass through the small town of Millport, Arizona was never his dream, but then men like Andrew don't have dreams. The money's good, and that's all that matters because he has a brother racking up student debt in med school. It also means that when a runaway android from the nation's most notorious tech company stumbles into his store, Andrew is forced to help him out to protect the investments he's already made. Or something like that. - Or, an Andreil Robot AU

Excerpt:

The smile turned into a grimace. “Right, right. Well, you see, my bike’s battery died, so I’ll need one of these...uh, can you recommend any?”

And Andrew should probably let him leave it at that. It wasn’t his business what his customers got up to, especially not the lying kind. But before Andrew could think better of it he asked: “How far out?”

“Some miles. Not too bad. An okay walk without the bike.” He shrugged.

And Andrew really should just let it be. Except this was the middle of nowhere in Arizona. The gas station’s address was nominally listed as Millport, but it was several miles out from the town that was really a few streets clustered around a church and a general store, it’s existence only excused by the fact that it sat along a major highway and the occasional passersby needed gas, food or a roof over their head. Dozens of miles of barren wasteland accompanied the highway to both sides of the gas station, offering no shade with which to protect against the aggressive, early summer sun.

Even inside the air conditioned shop Andrew could feel the heat press in, sweat collecting underneath the black armbands he wore with his T-shirt. In a few weeks it would be unbearable – yet there was no perspiration on the man’s pale skin. Or sunburn. His sluggish, odd behavior could be heatstroke. Andrew had seen that before, and the symptoms weren’t off. But his professional guess was a different one.

Without a word he stepped past the man, heading towards the coolers that lined the front of the shop. The man followed, then paused by the last row of shelves before the gap of the aisle, holding onto them for balance. His expression was confused, but Andrew delivered him an answer before he had time to ask. Grabbing a bottle of water, he tossed it at the man and then watched it bounce of his chest and drop to the floor. The man blinked, only understanding after the fact, and bent down carefully to pick it up.

It was supposed to be a simple test to prove Andrew’s theory correct: All commercial androids lacked an esophagus and the appropriate organs to imbibe and digest food and drink. After all, there was no point in such vanities, when the space inside the faux-human body could instead be used for more storage and better ventilation to help the machine exist. That the man wasn’t human Andrew had really no doubt about: He’d seen enough of them in his life to be able to tell the small differences in the way the machines moved and perceived the world, compared to humans.

But after slowly deciphering the label, the android made no excuse for itself. It simply uncapped the bottle and downed the entire thing in three large gulps.

Andrew let the freezer door fall shut, unable to tear his eyes away from the way the android’s throat moved as it drank. A shiver ran down his spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold that had escaped from the coolers: There was only one android manufacturer in the world whose machines could have passed this little test, and that meant this one was trouble. Not the kind they had been expecting, perhaps, but this million dollar investment in its filthy rags was broken. Andrew doubted it would make it out of the desert even with a solar charger to substitute for its busted battery, and if its body was found along the highway that would lead the wrong people right to Millport – and Kevin.

It was a risk Andrew couldn’t afford.

[read on Ao3]

[toskarin]

Which Transcending Obscurity label bands do you like?

because it's Kunal Choksi's label, Transcending Obscurity understandably has a pretty strong death lean (I'm more of a bm fan) but I still dabble a bit

in no particular order I've had some fun with...

Hell Is Other People

Decipher

Abaddon Incarnate (kinda the outlier here, but I'm not above grindcore as a sometimes food)

Deus Vermin

VORGA (I know, I know, but I'm such a sucker for hxc type riffs)

Sarcoptes

Felled

Dyssebeia

Frozen Dawn

Arche

[pt-anon]

A creature finally arrives home, taking note of all the lights being off and the silence. She flicks the living room lamp on, and quickly spots a pile of empty vodka bottles as well as a few labeled jars next to the couch. Eldritch sighs, a bit disappointed, but knew PT might relapse after certain events.

She begins cleaning cleaning the place up quietly, and washing out the empty jars in the sink before sticking them in a nearby dishwasher. The empty vodka bottles get either thrown out, or washed out to save for future craft ideas for PT and her to use. The creature also cleans up the remaining mess from PT’s drunk baking.

Eldritch then sweeps up any food crumbs, and cleans up the green “blood” spots from the hardwood in front of the front door. She grabs a thing of bacterial wipes to wipe down any tables in both the kitchen and living room, before finally deciding it’s “clean enough”.

She turns off the light, and heads up the stairs to PT’s bedroom to check on them. Eldritch carefully opens the door, and pretty quickly spots the aforementioned blue triangle asleep in bed. She softly smiles and lets out another sign, taking a minute before cautiously moving towards the bed to fix the slightly fallen down covers back other them.

Eldritch takes one long look at them, as if thinking about something, before turning away to leave. Before she can get far, she feels something latch onto her “arm” and tug her back. She looks behind her, and the creature’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of a half awake PT.

PT looks at her, a small black tentacle wire having reached out from under the sheets to quickly latch on before she could get her. They peer at Eldritch from under their eyelid, a sadness in their pupil that asks her to stay. She relents and moves closer, holding the tentacle in her own like one would when holding a hand in comfort.

“Do you want me to stay with you…?”, she asks in a hushed tone….As if talking any louder would shatter the comforting atmosphere.

“….Please….”, they quietly plead in back as an answer. Eldritch slowly nods, a smile on her face.

“Sure thing, Payton…”

PT softly snorts and wrinkles their nose at the name. They still smile at her and they lift the blanket up and scoot over for Eldritch to have room. As the blanket is lifted, it reveals a worn down teddy bear with patches over it’s body.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time….”

She climbs into bed carefully, carefully moving the old plushie over and closer to PT. PT then lowers the covers and hugs both the plush and Eldritch close. They tuck the upper half of their body into the herd, nearly curling into a ball.

“… Sorry…”

Eldritch wraps her “arms” around them, holding PT close.

“No, you’re fine… I’m…. Kind of glad someone still knows my name… It’s okay to use it in private, just don’t go telling anyone…. Okay?”

“Alright… If you’re sure.”

“I am…”

Eldritch begins gently rubbing PT’s back, letting her firm warm up slightly to a comfortable temp. PT snuggles closer, and softly smiles. Not too long afterwards, they fall back into a deep sleep asleep.

….

If they had stayed awake a bit longer….

……

Maybe they would have heard someone quietly sing a very familiar tune with words no human could ever decipher.

[normallyxstranger]

ANDY FOSTER

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Andromeda Nicole Foster

Nicknames: Andy, Strawberry Shortcake, Cherry Bomb, Ands

Gender | Species: Female | human (witch)

Date of Birth | Age: March 12th | 30

Zodiac: Pisces Sexuality & Romance: Pansexual & panromantic

Languages: English, French, Italian, Latin, a few demon languages, bits and pieces of other languages

Education: Attended a few public schools, but mostly privately tutored in general education and magic

Occupation: Small business co-owner and operator of Embers & Ashes, with her mother; freelance paranormal expert; witch for hire

Drink | Smoke | Drugs: Yes | sometimes | rarely

PERSONALITY

Likes: ice cream, candy, food/eating esp. junk food, animals, comic books/sci-fi/fantasy stuff, sex, cuddles, Disney films, cartoons, magic, drawing, coffee and tea, dancing, being right

Dislikes: blood, snakes, people mistreating children/people in general, closed in spaces, gory horror movies, being wrong

MBTI: ENFP - the Campaigner 

Alignment: Neutral Good

Five Tropes: Great Redheaded Sorcerer(ess); The Atoner; Good Bad Girl; Proud Beauty; We Help the Helpless

Theme Song: Trouble - P!nk

Habits: lying. interrupting. chewing the ends of pens. swearing. muttering under their breath. binge drinking. oversleeping. snacking between meals. skipping meals. impulse buying. humming/singing to themselves. eye rolling. licking lips. jaw clenching. gesturing while talking. tucking hair behind ears. chewing lips. crossing arms over chest. putting hands on hips. being late. procrastinating. doodling. peeling off bottle labels. running hands through hair. overreacting. pacing. pinching the bridge of nose. rubbing temples

Strengths: trustworthy. thoughtful. caring. brave. ambitious. tolerant. intelligent. confident. focused. observant. clever. charming. optimistic. decisive. adaptive

Flaws: short-tempered. controlling. conceited. impatient. power-hungry. greedy. lazy. judgmental. impulsive. spiteful. stubborn. petty. wrathful. vindictive.

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Deborah Ann Woll

Hair: Red, usually worn long and tied in a ponytail, bun, sometimes loose

Eyes: Blue

Height: 5'10"

Tattoos: Tree of life on her right wrist, covering an old scar

Piercings: earlobes

Scars: Burn scar on the inside of her right wrist, covered by her tattoo.

Scents: lavender, vanilla, burnt amber (slightly), strawberry shampoo, sage 

ABILITIES

Powers: Advanced innate telekinesis; advanced knowledge and adeptness in all general areas of magic (spells, potions, conjuring, transfiguration/transmogrification, teleportation etc); Seer talents (including precognition that often happen through touch, at random, or sometimes in dreams; clairvoyance); extensive knowledge of the supernatural; longevity (ages far more slowly than a normal human, living longer than human lifespan)

Weaknesses: Her visions can sometimes cause great strain to her mind, leading to headaches, nosebleeds, and some physical weakness. They take a heavy toll on her, particularly if the visions are really strong. The visions are often uncontrolled and unpredictable and can be difficult, at times, to decipher. Using a great deal of magic or her telekinetic powers in a short amount of time can also drain her, making her tired and weak.

BACKSTORY

Andy’s mother Mara–a witch and seer–and her father Victor-–a powerful warlock–met when they were members of opposing covens in London, England. Initially, the two were at odds, but eventually grew to become friends and later on, lovers. After they married, they discussed the possibility of having a child, but Mara learned she may never be able to conceive. Upset over the news, Mara forced herself to remain positive.

Victor, however, wanted to give Mara what she desired. Getting in touch with a secretive and dangerous coven, he gained access to a powerful artifact known as Hecate’s Will. It came with a dangerous price he knew would one day be paid, but he didn’t care. With this magic, he was able to help his wife become pregnant. The result was Andy.

Having gained strong telekinetic abilities from her father and seer abilities and a natural talent for witchcraft from her mother, Andy was a force to reckon with, even in her younger days. From the age of three, she was taken to various covens and homeschooled in general education as well as the craft. She learned quickly and became quite talented.

When Andy was eight, her father was brutally murdered, with the young girl having witnessed the magical attack on Victor. Scarred from the ordeal, Mara–now a widow–took Andy, and her infant daughter, Vinnie, far away to start a new life.

Times were rough but Andy, her mom, and little sister made the best of it. Though there was a spark of darkness within her due to the spell surrounding her conception, Andy managed to remain mostly optimistic in the face of hardship, using her powers for good… for the most part. She was trained in magic by her mother, various coven members, and her godfather Mason.

When Andy was fifteen, she began to delve more into dark magic. It quickly consumed her interest and she became obsessed. She uncovered the truth about her father’s past with the Hallowed Circle Coven. Wanting to follow in her father’s footsteps, she started to meet with them and decided she would be initiated into their ranks. The initiation involved a sacrifice–a blood magic ritual–and the victim chosen for it was Andy’s current boyfriend. Corrupted by magic, Andy performed the ritual, killing the boy.

Afterwards, she realized the price of what she’d done and refused to listen to what the Coven Priests and Priestesses told her. She would not be part of this any more. She wanted to be good. She didn’t want to kill anyone.

He wasn’t her only victim and she killed two Coven members the night she fled home to be with her mother, sister, and Mason. The three of them, with the help of Mara’s former Coven, helped keep Andy safe from retaliation from the Hallowed Circle, and focused on rehabilitating Andy as she grieved and her life returned to something more normal.

Afterwards, once in control of her abilities and self again, and wanting to turn over a new leaf, Andy decided the best thing she could do with her power was to help those in need. Using her expertise in magic and knowledge of the occult and paranormal, she began to establish herself as the go-to witch for helping humans and supernaturals alike with their otherworldly problems.

When she turned twenty-one, she was finally allowed access to the inheritance her father left her. With the money, Andy and her mother opened up an occult store called Embers & Ashes to both serve as a way to draw in income, and to bring people in that needed Andy’s help. She lives in a small apartment, with her two cats, her bat, and her turtle. In her spare time, she likes to stay at home and watch movies and cartoons, read comic books, and draw.

CANONS

Andy likes to sing but isn't great with it. She's decent. Not the same with dancing. She’s very good at moving to a beat.

Is generally disorganized and refers to it as organized chaos because she has a knack for finding anything within the mess, without the aid of magic.

Her favorite colors are purple and blue.

Andy was born in London, England, but her family moved before her first birthday to both escape the Hallowed Circle Coven her father fled from, and to give them a new start in life. She spent a lot of time back and forth between the United States and England as a child, visiting her mother’s coven and learning magic, but she does not speak with an English accent. She has dual citizenship in the UK as well as the US.

Her taste in music is pretty varied, but she prefers to listen to pop and classic rock and alternative music. 

Bon Jovi is her favorite band.

Andy can be fiercely competitive, particularly when it comes to games. She’s not above cheating to win.

She can’t cook. She can brew a potion easily, but when it comes to making a meal, she’s terrible at it. She prefers take-out or quick meals made in the microwave.

Ice cream is her absolute favorite food. Chocolate chip or brownie flavors are what she considers her favorites, but really any ice cream is good.

Andy loves candy. Chocolate is always great, but she’s a big fan of fruity candies like gummy bears. She hides stashes of candy all over Embers & Ashes, her apartment, and in various places at the Kindheart Coven houses.

Andy’s Book of Shadows is an old leather book that once belonged to her father. The first two-thirds of it is filled with information he’d hand written, with the last third being Andy’s own contributions.

Andy loves animals and currently has several pets: a black cat named Doom, a turtle named Mikey, a ginger & white tabby named Vivienne (called Vivi), and a bat named Bruce.

Bruce the bat is named after Bruce Wayne aka Batman. He’s not a pet so much as he’s attached to Andy, who helped rehabilitate him when found injured. He comes around now and again through an open window and Andy feeds and cares for him when he does.

Mikey the turtle is named after Michelangelo of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Doom is old and cantankerous and doesn't like many people. His favorite perch is on top of Andy's bookshelf where he can look down on everyone.

Vivi is still quite young, a baby compared to Doom. Andy found her during a rainstorm behind Embers & Ashes and took her in. She is very playful, loves people and cuddles, uppies, and sitting on Andy's shoulder.

However much she loves animals, she has a slight fear of snakes and while the sight of them doesn’t send her screaming or into a panic, she’d rather not be around them.

Andy began to abuse dark magicks at the age of thirteen. This came to a head when she turned fifteen and for some time, she was completely immersed in the dark arts, joining the Hallowed Circle Coven. She was brought back by Mason and continues on the path of rehabilitation to this day. She helps other witches with their magic addictions when she can.

The sight of blood makes her uncomfortable because of this, and from the memory of her father’s murder.

It is also the reason she is not a fan of the horror genre, at least the overly gory movies.

Andy has a tree of life tattoo on her right wrist, covering an old burn scar. She received the mark of the Hallowed Circle Coven when she was fifteen, and after leaving she tried to burn the mark away.

She can play piano and draw–both talents she hasn’t cultivated as much as she would like.

Her favorite Disney film is The Little Mermaid.

She loves sci-fi and fantasy films, comic books, and novels. She can be a bit of a geek at times.

She very much likes the Star Wars franchise, particularly the original trilogy. She does enjoy the prequel movies and related, but doesn’t care too much for the sequel movies. 

Andy’s visions began manifesting shortly after her father’s death. It was believed, at the very start, that the nightmares were caused because of her witness to the murder. However, Mara suspected it was something more. Where Mara’s visions tend to be less cryptic, Andy’s can be the opposite. They mostly come to her as she sleeps and are sometimes indistinguishable from her dreams, unless her intuition–or gut feeling–tells her otherwise. It takes a bit of effort, but Andy can call upon a vision at will, though it often leaves her with an awful, unnatural sensation. 

 Her visions sometimes give her headaches that are usually managed with some pain potions, pain meds, and a lot of rest.

Andy isn’t much into committed relationships, generally preferring one night stands and random sexual encounters. She does like forging a connection with the person prior to sex, but not always. If she really likes someone, she will enter an exclusive relationship with them, but she overall prefers open or poly relationships. It takes a special sort of person for Andy to consider settling down permanently.

Andy loves children and would like to have one someday, but she believes her years of magical abuse have left her unable to conceive. Adoption is not out of the question though.

Andy and Glen did have a brief relationship. It was shortly after Andy decided to call it quits with Dylan. She knew Glen from around town and they started hanging out, getting intimate. They dated. However, it became clear that Andy wasn’t willing to commit to anything and she was really just using Glen. He didn’t like that and decided to cut it off quickly. There was a lot of upset between them for a while, but most of that has eased away and they’re friendly to each other. There are still some lingering hurts.

The eight year age difference between Andy & Vinnie doesn’t give them much closeness, but Andy is still protective over her little sister. As witches and as women, they have to stick together, even if they annoy one another more often than not.

Andy, when a child, once turned a boy into a toad because he was mean to her. She refused to turn him back, so Mason had to clean up the mess. The boy was left with a permanent hop in his step.

Andy is really good at sketching, and has to be for all the sigils and wards and other things. But also good at sketching landscapes and faces. Just for fun.

Andy is also known as a warlock ( ‘warlock’ is a witch who has betrayed his or her coven or has done something pretty heinous to be ostracized or criticized within the magical community)  by some individuals because of how she left the Kindheart Coven in her teens to join up with the Hallowed Circle, and then defied the witches of the Hallowed Circle when she had a change of heart. She has since been on a path to redeem herself, but she hasn’t been so easily forgiven by some. 

Andy likes to concentrate a lot of her magic and spellwork into single words. Yes, magic words. Andy will prepare her spell, prime it, and charge the word. That energy stays stored with her for the duration. When that word is uttered, the spell is released. This is especially handy to use for quick fire responses when there isn’t time to perform an elaborate spell. It’s already stored, charged, ready to go. She literally just has to say the word. These are usually words in other languages, most usually Latin because that’s traditional, but she also uses other languages and uncommon words, so there’s very little fear that she’d accidentally unleash the spell. These magic words are only good for a one time use before she has to recharge/reload the word with the spell.

When it comes to their mom’s family, Andy and Vinnie aren’t so close to them. This is mostly because Mara’s mother and two older sisters aren’t witches– and were very disapproving of the lifestyle.  Andy’s fine with not knowing or hanging out with her aunts or grandmother

[macabremads]

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader (no use of y/n) rating: mature, mdni 18+ word count: 1.8k summary: Dieter had grown accustomed to your unwavering forgiveness, even when it seemed as though the world was on your shoulders. But, what happens when you decide to take a step back? Or, Dieter Bravo experiences a wide realization of the consequences of his own actions, to the point where redemption seems utterly elusive. warnings/tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, implied drug use, alcohol use, unhealthy relationship dynamics, angst again, too much angst, implied recovery period from substances. A/N: this is part one out of a three part series! please do let me know if you enjoy it as this is my first fic after years (and years) of being hiatused on this account. love ya all xx

His fingers gently pulled at the once-soft sheets under his fingers, a soft hum leaving his parted lips as he looked out past the haze of his dark room, lit only by a cheap candle he had picked up at an old antique store. Probably, that hunk of wax was nearly one hundred years old, but he had decided that keeping his nice, musky-smelling ones was more important to him.

The rain outside the window hit the glass in gentle and rough rounds. The sky couldn't make up its mind on whether it wanted to drizzle or downpour, but it didn't make much of a difference to Dieter; he wasn't planning on going outside either way. Truthfully, he couldn't really remember the last time he had gone outside or left the house unless opening the door to collect his food deliveries counted as a 'breath of fresh air.' He knew it didn't, yet he considered most things these days to be a win.

Grunting, he looked down at his phone. "Monday, October 2nd" rang out on the screen in bright letters, making him squint as he stared down at his phone. No new notifications. Yeah, he hadn't truly expected there to be. He hadn't realized, whether or not that's because he had a goal of staying coked out most days, that your name was the one that always hung around his phone. Whether it was stupid videos of cute animals or random texts asking him about where he was, what he was doing, or if he was enjoying filming. He hadn't really noticed how much he had longed for another compilation of kittens falling over to music that wasn't appropriate given the context of the video, but he knew that his own demise fell at his own hands, and that regardless of what he wanted or thought, there was little opportunity for him to make right his wrongs.

The shitty bottle of cider popped off his lips with a loud 'pop.' Dieter smacked his lips together as he looked at the label from under his brow bone, staring at the little label and trying to decipher where he had bought the alcohol. He was coming up empty-minded, unsure if it was one you had gotten and shoved to the back of his drink fridge, or if he had just gotten gifted the wrong thing from his Instacart driver; the latter seemed more probable. You never were a big beer drinker, and Dieter had his many vices, with beer not even close to the top of that list.

Tossing the bottle onto his already too full end table, he pressed his lips together and moved forward, fuzzy-socked clothed feet hitting the ground, well nearly. "Fuck," he hissed, having stepped on the corner of the top of a beer bottle. The jagged edges crushed into the flesh of his foot as he got up, kicking the metal piece away from him.

Things were miserable; that much he could admit. Not even the promise of a smooth high made his body light up with excitement anymore. He didn't get the same draft from going out and getting messed up with his actor buddies, all of whom he knew didn't like him all that much. But he had always said, "Being around people makes you look more approachable, even if you hate their guts."

Looking down to his phone once more, he shuffled out of his room and kicked at the random clothes that littered his floors, not caring too much about the pigsty he had lived in for the last few weeks. He realized in the haze that you had been tasked with cleaning these messes for him in the past. If you hadn't done what you had around the house, he would have been living in disrepair, unless he had purchased a cleaning service. But that was neither here nor there. The walk to his kitchen was long, mainly because Dieter refused to turn on the lights. He only used his phone to light the way, and even then, he couldn't be bothered to turn the brightness higher than the 50% it had been on all day. He mumbled something to himself about his eyes being adjusted to the dark, as though anyone was listening to him.

Dieter 1:02 am: I’m sorry.

"Fucking-," he nearly shouted, his hand gripping his phone as he looked at the messages he had sent over the last two weeks. All of them said the same thing: "I'm sorry," but this one was different. All of the other ones went through, their blue text box taunting him as he stared at the screen, the last one sent green. You had blocked him, finally. He assumed that it was time, considering how badly everything had ended, but he still hadn't really expected you to do it. You never had in the past, even when his words had venom dripping from them, a coke-induced anger, sharp daggers sent your way, just to see you squirm, just to see you cry, to see you beg him to stay in his life because at the end of the day; he loved to feel wanted, to feel needed, and he knew no other way than to make you suffer in order to prove to him that you cared. This time, he had gone too far.

The cost of hubris didn't fall on deaf ears when it came to Dieter, even when it was clear that he wasn't thinking about anyone else but himself. Concerns voiced to him were brushed off with a furrowed brow and a dismissive wave of his hand. It usually ended with some brief statement that he "would work on it" or he "would talk to you about it when he wasn't so messed up," but there was only so many times that excuse would work on anyone, and you had gone past your limit.

It had been an incredibly monotonous day that poured over into the evening. You and Dieter had both decided that staying in made more sense. Neither you nor him had the willpower to go out and avoid fans, prying eyes, or the tension that lingered between you. Or at least you couldn't. Dieter was another story, an enigma that found comfort in the silence you both shared. He held a clear "if you don't say, I won't ask" mentality, and it had kept things relaxed, mellow, and undisturbed, at least on his side.

You wouldn't be able to forget the moment when things had tipped over the edge. There wasn't a big fight, there wasn't a eureka moment that rolled upon you. Yet, the tea glass, for lack of a better metaphor, had broken months ago, and the shards that you consumed with every sip began to make swallowing and breathing difficult. Choking on your own blood silently, while Dieter lay next to you, none the wiser.

His arm had been wrapped around you, your head lazily placed upon his chest. The shirt he had been wearing was wrinkled and creased, a result of his refusal to hang up his folded clothes. He smelled like brandy, a bit of mint, and whatever fragrance was laced into his hair gel. His fingers played with a loose thread on your jumper, one of his old favorites that he had gifted to you after your second date, insisting that it "looked better on you than it ever looked on me."

"I don't think this is working anymore," the words were nearly silent, tasted bitter on your tongue as you continued to lay on his chest. His breathing halted, and his fingers stopped their soothing moves on your arm as he took in your words. He had heard you, and he felt the deep ache in his stomach, as though you had dug your fingers into his chest, pressing past the delicate fibers of the muscles between his ribs, ripping out every last bit of him, despite not moving from your spot.

The Dieter that you had originally met was a spitfire, never taking much seriously, not having any plans for his future outside of what drugs he was going to take at his next party or what country he was going to go to next to star in another forgettable movie. Now, things had gotten better, but the desire to fix this broken man had begun to lose its luster once the honeymoon period had worn off, and all that was left was both of you, not moving, yet gripping each other's wrists as though you two would melt if someone walked away.

You had prided yourself on your strength, and Dieter had too. Despite his shortcomings, he hadn't expected you to leave. He would have bet every last dollar that you wouldn't have left him, that you couldn't because you had promised to stay by his side and love him like he hadn't been loved before. He had always been insecure about his place in the world, despite putting up a bravado and an air of being untouchable. Still, you had instilled in him that he wasn't more broken and less deserving of love, and he had believed that your love would fix him, forgetting that it wasn't only his cup that needed to be filled, but yours as well.

You had devoted your time to making him happy, and he did his best to do the same for you, for a while. Until he got used to you being around, until he got too numb to all that you did for him. It hadn't been intentional, but when filming got hard, when he felt overwhelmed, when the drugs didn't fill his chest like they used to, he blanked out and took and took from you, never thinking about how eventually your cup would run dry while his overflowed.

He said nothing that night. He didn't beg you to stay, he didn't make false promises that he would change, as he had so many times before. No, he knew that all he could do was hold you close, inhaling your scent, and asking if you could stay for the night.

You agreed.

[devoted1989]

A list of animal ingredients and their alternatives helps consumers avoid animal ingredients in food, cosmetics, and other products.

By the Nazarene Way.

There are thousands of technical and patented names for ingredient variations. Furthermore, many ingredients known by one name can be of animal, vegetable, or synthetic origin. If you have a question regarding an ingredient in a product, call the manufacturer. Good sources of additional information are the Consumer's Dictionary of Cosmetic Ingredients, the Consumer's Dictionary of Food Additives, or an unabridged dictionary. All of these are available at most libraries.

Adding to the confusion over whether or not an ingredient is of animal origin is the fact that many companies have removed the word "animal" from their ingredient labels to avoid putting off consumers. For example, rather than use the term "hydrolyzed animal protein," companies may use another term such as "hydrolyzed collagen." Simple for them, but frustrating for the caring consumer.

Animal ingredients are used not because they are better than vegetable-derived or synthetic ingredients but rather because they are generally cheaper. Today's slaughterhouses must dispose of the byproducts of the slaughter of billions of animals every year and have found an easy and profitable solution in selling them to food and cosmetics manufacturers.

Animal ingredients come from every industry that uses animals: meat, fur, wool, dairy, egg, and fishing, as well as industries such as horse racing and rodeo, which send unwanted animals to slaughter.

Rendering plants process the bodies of millions of tons of dead animals every year, transforming decaying flesh and bones into profitable animal ingredients. The primary source of rendered animals is slaughterhouses, which provide the "inedible" parts of all animals killed for food. The bodies of companion animals who are euthanized in animal shelters wind up at rendering plants, too. One small plant in Quebec renders 10 tons of dogs and cats a week, a sobering reminder of the horrible dog and cat overpopulation problem with which shelters must cope.

Some animal ingredients do not wind up in the final product but are used in the manufacturing process. For example, in the production of some refined sugars, bone char is used to whiten the sugar; in some wines and beers, isinglass (from the swim bladders of fish) is used as a "clearing" agent.

Kosher symbols and markings also add to the confusion and are not reliable indicators on which vegans or vegetarians should base their purchasing decisions. This issue is complex, but the "K" or "Kosher" symbols basically mean that the food manufacturing process was overseen by a rabbi, who theoretically ensures that it meets Hebrew dietary laws. The food also may not contain both dairy products and meat, but it may contain one or the other. "P" or "Parve" means the product contains no meat or dairy products but may contain fish or eggs. "D," as in "Kosher D," means that the product either contains dairy or was made with dairy machinery. For example, a chocolate and peanut candy may be marked "Kosher D" even if it doesn't contain dairy because the non-dairy chocolate was manufactured on machinery that also made milk chocolate. For questions regarding other symbols, please contact the Orthodox Union (212-563-4000) or other Jewish organizations or publications.

Thousands of products on store shelves have labels that are hard to decipher. It's nearly impossible to be perfectly vegan, but it's getting easier to avoid products with animal ingredients. Our list will give you a good working knowledge of the most common animal-derived ingredients and their alternatives, allowing you to make deci-sions that will save animals' lives.

Adrenaline. Hormone from adrenal glands of hogs, cattle, and sheep. In medicine. Alternatives: synthetics.

Alanine. (See Amino Acids.)

Albumen. In eggs, milk, muscles, blood, and many vegetable tissues and fluids. In cosmetics, albumen is usually derived from egg whites and used as a coagulating agent. May cause allergic reaction. In cakes, cookies, candies, etc. Egg whites sometimes used in "clearing" wines. Derivative: Albumin.

Albumin. (See Albumen.)

Alcloxa. (See Allantoin.)

Aldioxa. (See Allantoin.)

Aliphatic Alcohol. (See Lanolin and Vitamin A.)

Allantoin. Uric acid from cows, most mammals. Also in many plants (especially comfrey). In cosmetics (especially creams and lotions) and used in treatment of wounds and ulcers. Derivatives: Alcloxa, Aldioxa. Alternatives: extract of comfrey root, synthetics.

Alligator Skin. (See Leather.)

Alpha-Hydroxy Acids. Any one of several acids used as an exfoliant and in anti-wrinkle products. Lactic acid may be animal-derived (see Lactic Acid). Alternatives: glycolic acid, citric acid, and salicylic acid are plant- or fruit-derived.

Ambergris. From whale intestines. Used as a fixative in making perfumes and as a flavoring in foods and beverages. Alternatives: synthetic or vegetable fixatives.

Amino Acids. The building blocks of protein in all animals and plants. In cosmetics, vitamins, supplements, shampoos, etc. Alternatives: synthetics, plant sources.

Aminosuccinate Acid. (See Aspartic Acid.)

Angora. Hair from the Angora rabbit or goat. Used in clothing. Alternatives: synthetic fibers.

Animal Fats and Oils. In foods, cosmetics, etc. Highly allergenic. Alternatives: olive oil, wheat germ oil, coconut oil, flaxseed oil, almond oil, safflower oil, etc.

Animal Hair. In some blankets, mattresses, brushes, furniture, etc. Alternatives: vegetable and synthetic fibers.

Arachidonic Acid. A liquid unsaturated fatty acid that is found in liver, brain, glands, and fat of animals and humans. Generally isolated from animal liver. Used in companion animal food for nutrition and in skin creams and lotions to soothe eczema and rashes. Alternatives: synthetics, aloe vera, tea tree oil, calendula ointment.

Arachidyl Proprionate. A wax that can be from animal fat. Alternatives: peanut or vegetable oil.

Aspartic Acid. Aminosuccinate Acid. Can be animal or plant source (e.g., molasses). Sometimes synthesized for commercial purposes.

Bee Pollen. Microsporic grains in seed plants gathered by bees then collected from the legs of bees. Causes allergic reactions in some people. In nutritional supplements, shampoos, toothpastes, deodorants. Alternatives: synthetics, plant amino acids, pollen collected from plants.

Bee Products. Produced by bees for their own use. Bees are selectively bred. Culled bees are killed. A cheap sugar is substituted for their stolen honey. Millions die as a result. Their legs are often torn off by pollen-collection trapdoors.

Beeswax. Honeycomb. Wax obtained from melting honeycomb with boiling water, straining it, and cooling it. From virgin bees. Very cheap and widely used but harmful to the skin. In lipsticks and many other cosmetics (especially face creams, lotions, mascara, eye creams and shadows, face makeups, nail whiteners, lip balms, etc.). Derivatives: Cera Flava. Alternatives: paraffin, vegetable oils and fats. Ceresin, aka ceresine, aka earth wax. (Made from the mineral ozokerite. Replaces beeswax in cosmetics. Also used to wax paper, to make polishing cloths, in dentistry for taking wax impressions, and in candle-making.) Also, carnauba wax (from the Brazilian palm tree; used in many cosmetics, including lipstick; rarely causes allergic reactions). Candelilla wax (from candelilla plants; used in many cosmetics, including lipstick; also in the manufacture of rubber and phonograph records, in waterproofing and writing inks; no known toxicity). Japan wax (Vegetable wax. Japan tallow. Fat from the fruit of a tree grown in Japan and China.).

Benzoic Acid. In almost all vertebrates and in berries. Used as a preservative in mouthwashes, deodorants, creams, aftershave lotions, etc. Alternatives: cranberries, gum benzoin (tincture) from the aromatic balsamic resin from trees grown in China, Sumatra, Thailand, and Cambodia.

Beta Carotene. (See Carotene.)

Biotin. Vitamin H. Vitamin B Factor. In every living cell and in larger amounts in milk and yeast. Used as a texturizer in cosmetics, shampoos, and creams. Alternatives: plant sources.

Blood. From any slaughtered animal. Used as adhesive in plywood, also found in cheese-making, foam rubber, intravenous feedings, and medicines. Possibly in foods such as lecithin. Alternatives: synthetics, plant sources.

Boar Bristles. Hair from wild or captive hogs. In "natural" toothbrushes and bath and shaving brushes. Alternatives: vegetable fibers, nylon, the peelu branch or peelu gum (Asian, available in the U.S.; its juice replaces toothpaste).

Bone Char. Animal bone ash. Used in bone china and often to make sugar white. Serves as the charcoal used in aquarium filters. Alternatives: synthetic tribasic calcium phosphate.

Bone Meal. Crushed or ground animal bones. In some fertilizers. In some vitamins and supplements as a source of calcium. In toothpastes. Alternatives: plant mulch, vegetable compost, dolomite, clay, vegetarian vitamins.

Calciferol. (See Vitamin D.)

Calfskin. (See Leather.)

Caprylamine Oxide. (See Caprylic Acid.)

Capryl Betaine. (See Caprylic Acid.)

Caprylic Acid. A liquid fatty acid from cow's or goat's milk. Also from palm and coconut oil, other plant oils. In perfumes, soaps. Derivatives: Caprylic Triglyceride, Caprylamine Oxide, Capryl Betaine. Alternatives: plant sources.

Caprylic Triglyceride. (See Caprylic Acid.)

Carbamide. (See Urea.)

Carmine. Cochineal. Carminic Acid. Red pigment from the crushed female cochineal insect. Reportedly, 70,000 beetles must be killed to produce one pound of this red dye. Used in cosmetics, shampoos, red apple sauce, and other foods (including red lollipops and food coloring). May cause allergic reaction. Alternatives: beet juice (used in powders, rouges, shampoos; no known toxicity); alkanet root (from the root of this herb-like tree; used as a red dye for inks, wines, lip balms, etc.; no known toxicity. Can also be combined to make a copper or blue coloring). (See Colors.)

Carminic Acid. (See Carmine.)

Carotene. Provitamin A. Beta Carotene. A pigment found in many animal tissues and in all plants. Used as a coloring in cosmetics and in the manufacture of vitamin A.

Casein. Caseinate. Sodium Caseinate. Milk protein. In "non-dairy" creamers, soy cheese, many cosmetics, hair preparations, beauty masks. Alternatives: soy protein, soy milk, and other vegetable milks.

Caseinate. (See Casein.)

Cashmere. Wool from the Kashmir goat. Used in clothing. Alternatives: synthetic fibers.

Castor. Castoreum. Creamy substance with strong odor from muskrat and beaver genitals. Used as a fixative in perfume and incense. Alternatives: synthetics, plant castor oil.

Castoreum. (See Castor.)

Catgut. Tough string from the intestines of sheep, horses, etc. Used for surgical sutures. Also for stringing tennis rackets and musical instruments, etc. Alternatives: nylon and other synthetic fibers.

Cera Flava. (See Beeswax.)

Cerebrosides. Fatty acids and sugars found in the covering of nerves. May include tissue from brain.

Cetyl Alcohol. Wax found in spermaceti from sperm whales or dolphins. Alternatives: Vegetable cetyl alcohol (e.g., coconut), synthetic spermaceti.

Cetyl Palmitate. (See Spermaceti.)

Chitosan. A fiber derived from crustacean shells. Used as a lipid binder in diet products, in hair, oral and skin care products, antiperspirants, and deodorants. Alternatives: raspberries, yams, legumes, dried apricots, and many other fruits and vegetables.

Cholesterin. (See Lanolin.)

Cholesterol. A steroid alcohol in all animal fats and oils, nervous tissue, egg yolk, and blood. Can be derived from lanolin. In cosmetics, eye creams, shampoos, etc. Alternatives: solid complex alcohols (sterols) from plant sources.

Choline Bitartrate. (See Lecithin.)

Civet. Unctuous secretion painfully scraped from a gland very near the genital organs of civet cats. Used as a fixative in perfumes. Alternatives: (See alternatives to Musk.).

Cochineal. (See Carmine.)

Cod Liver Oil. (See Marine Oil.)

Collagen. Fibrous protein in vertebrates. Usually derived from animal tissue. Can't affect the skin's own collagen. An allergen. Alternatives: soy protein, almond oil, amla oil (see alternative to Keratin), etc.

Colors. Dyes. Pigments from animal, plant, and synthetic sources used to color foods, cosmetics, and other products. Cochineal is from insects. Widely used FD&C and D&C colors are coaltar (bituminous coal) derivatives that are continously tested on animals due to their carcinogenic properties. Alternatives: grapes, beets, turmeric, saffron, carrots, chlorophyll, annatto, alkanet.

Corticosteroid. (See Cortisone.)

Cortisone. Corticosteroid. Hormone from adrenal glands. Widely used in medicine. Alternatives: synthetics.

Cysteine, L-Form. An amino acid from hair which can come from animals. Used in hair-care products and creams, in some bakery products, and in wound-healing formulations. Alternatives: plant sources.

Cystine. An amino acid found in urine and horsehair. Used as a nutritional supplement and in emollients. Alternatives: plant sources.

Dexpanthenol. (See Panthenol.)

Diglycerides. (See Monoglycerides and Glycerin.)

Dimethyl Stearamine. (See Stearic Acid.)

Down. Goose or duck insulating feathers. From slaughtered or cruelly exploited geese. Used as an insulator in quilts, parkas, sleeping bags, pillows, etc. Alternatives: polyester and synthetic substitutes, kapok (silky fibers from the seeds of some tropical trees) and milkweed seed pod fibers.

Duodenum Substances. From the digestive tracts of cows and pigs. Added to some vitamin tablets. In some medicines. Alternatives: vegetarian vitamins, synthetics.

Dyes. (See Colors.)

Egg Protein. In shampoos, skin preparations, etc. Alternatives: plant proteins.

Elastin. Protein found in the neck ligaments and aortas of cows. Similar to collagen. Can't affect the skin's own elasticity. Alternatives: synthetics, protein from plant tissues.

Emu Oil. From flightless ratite birds native to Australia and now factory farmed. Used in cosmetics and creams. Alternatives: vegetable and plant oils.

Ergocalciferol. (See Vitamin D.)

Ergosterol. (See Vitamin D.)

Estradiol. (See Estrogen.)

Estrogen. Estradiol. Female hormones from pregnant mares? urine. Considered a drug. Can have harmful systemic effects if used by children. Used for reproductive problems and in birth control pills and Premarin, a menopausal drug. In creams, perfumes, and lotions. Has a negligible effect in the creams as a skin restorative; simple vegetable-source emollients are considered better. Alternatives: oral contraceptives and menopausal drugs based on synthetic steroids or phytoestrogens (from plants, especially palm-kernel oil). Menopausal symptoms can also be treated with diet and herbs.

Fats. (See Animal Fats.)

Fatty Acids. Can be one or any mixture of liquid and solid acids such as caprylic, lauric, myristic, oleic, palmitic, and stearic. Used in bubble baths, lipsticks, soap, detergents, cosmetics, food. Alternatives: vegetable-derived acids, soy lecithin, safflower oil, bitter almond oil, sunflower oil, etc.

FD&C Colors. (See Colors.)

Feathers. From exploited and slaughtered birds. Used whole as ornaments or ground up in shampoos. (See Down and Keratin.)

Fish Liver Oil. Used in vitamins and supplements. In milk fortified with vitamin D. Alternatives: yeast extract ergosterol and exposure of skin to sunshine.

Fish Oil. (See Marine Oil.) Fish oil can also be from marine mammals. Used in soap-making.

Fish Scales. Used in shimmery makeups. Alternatives: mica, rayon, synthetic pearl.

Fur. Obtained from animals (usually mink, foxes, or rabbits) cruelly trapped in steel-jaw leghold traps or raised in intensive confinement on fur "farms." Alternatives: synthetics. (See Sable Brushes.)

Gel. (See Gelatin.)

Gelatin. Gel. Protein obtained by boiling skin, tendons, ligaments, and/or bones with water. From cows and pigs. Used in shampoos, face masks, and other cosmetics. Used as a thickener for fruit gelatins and puddings (e.g., "Jello"). In candies, marshmallows, cakes, ice cream, yogurts. On photographic film and in vitamins as a coating and as capsules. Sometimes used to assist in "clearing" wines. Alternatives: carrageen (carrageenan, Irish moss), seaweeds (algin, agar-agar, kelp—used in jellies, plastics, medicine), pectin from fruits, dextrins, locust bean gum, cotton gum, silica gel. Marshmallows were originally made from the root of the marsh mallow plant. Vegetarian capsules are now available from several companies. Digital cameras don't use film.

Glucose Tyrosinase. (See Tyrosine.)

Glycerides. (See Glycerin.)

Glycerin. Glycerol. A byproduct of soap manufacture (normally uses animal fat). In cosmetics, foods, mouthwashes, chewing gum, toothpastes, soaps, ointments, medicines, lubricants, transmission and brake fluid, and plastics. Derivatives: Glycerides, Glyceryls, Glycreth-26, Polyglycerol. Alternatives: vegetable glycerin—a byproduct of vegetable oil soap. Derivatives of seaweed, petroleum.

Glycerol. (See Glycerin.)

Glyceryls. (See Glycerin.)

Glycreth-26. (See Glycerin.)

Guanine. Pearl Essence. Obtained from scales of fish. Constituent of ribonucleic acid and deoxyribonucleic acid and found in all animal and plant tissues. In shampoo, nail polish, other cosmetics. Alternatives: leguminous plants, synthetic pearl, or aluminum and bronze particles.

Hide Glue. Same as gelatin but of a cruder impure form. Alternatives: dextrins and synthetic petrochemical-based adhesives. (See Gelatin.)

Honey. Food for bees, made by bees. Can cause allergic reactions. Used as a coloring and an emollient in cosmetics and as a flavoring in foods. Should never be fed to infants. Alternatives: in foods—maple syrup, date sugar, syrups made from grains such as barley malt, turbinado sugar, molasses; in cosmetics—vegetable colors and oils.

Honeycomb. (See Beeswax.)

Horsehair. (See Animal Hair.)

Hyaluronic Acid. A protein found in umbilical cords and the fluids around the joints. Used in cosmetics. Alternatives: plant oils.

Hydrocortisone. (See Cortisone.)

Hydrolyzed Animal Protein. In cosmetics, especially shampoo and hair treatments. Alternatives: soy protein, other vegetable proteins, amla oil (see alternatives to Keratin).

Imidazolidinyl Urea. (See Urea.)

Insulin. From hog pancreas. Used by millions of diabetics daily. Alternatives: synthetics, vegetarian diet and nutritional supplements, human insulin grown in a lab.

Isinglass. A form of gelatin prepared from the internal membranes of fish bladders. Sometimes used in "clearing" wines and in foods. Alternatives: bentonite clay, "Japanese isinglass," agar-agar (see alternatives to Gelatin), mica, a mineral used in cosmetics.

Isopropyl Lanolate. (See Lanolin.)

Isopropyl Myristate. (See Myristic Acid.)

Isopropyl Palmitate. Complex mixtures of isomers of stearic acid and palmitic acid. (See Stearic Acid.)

Keratin. Protein from the ground-up horns, hooves, feathers, quills, and hair of various animals. In hair rinses, shampoos, permanent wave solutions. Alternatives: almond oil, soy protein, amla oil (from the fruit of an Indian tree), human hair from salons. Rosemary and nettle give body and strand strength to hair.

Lactic Acid. Found in blood and muscle tissue. Also in sour milk, beer, sauerkraut, pickles, and other food products made by bacterial fermentation. Used in skin fresheners, as a preservative, in the formation of plasticizers, etc. Alternative: plant milk sugars, synthetics.

Lactose. Milk sugar from milk of mammals. In eye lotions, foods, tablets, cosmetics, baked goods, medicines. Alternatives: plant milk sugars.

Laneth. (See Lanolin.)

Lanogene. (See Lanolin.)

Lanolin. Lanolin Acids. Wool Fat. Wool Wax. A product of the oil glands of sheep, extracted from their wool. Used as an emollient in many skin care products and cosmetics and in medicines. An allergen with no proven effectiveness. (See Wool for cruelty to sheep.) Derivatives: Aliphatic Alcohols, Cholesterin, Isopropyl Lanolate, Laneth, Lanogene, Lanolin Alcohols, Lanosterols, Sterols, Triterpene Alcohols. Alternatives: plant and vegetable oils.

Lanolin Alcohol. (See Lanolin.)

Lanosterols. (See Lanolin.)

Lard. Fat from hog abdomens. In shaving creams, soaps, cosmetics. In baked goods, French fries, refried beans, and many other foods. Alternatives: pure vegetable fats or oils.

Leather. Suede. Calfskin. Sheepskin. Alligator Skin. Other Types of Skin. Subsidizes the meat industry. Used to make wallets, handbags, furniture and car upholstery, shoes, etc. Alternatives: cotton, canvas, nylon, vinyl, ultrasuede, pleather, other synthetics.

Lecithin. Choline Bitartrate. Waxy substance in nervous tissue of all living organisms. But frequently obtained for commercial purposes from eggs and soybeans. Also from nerve tissue, blood, milk, corn. Choline bitartrate, the basic constituent of lecithin, is in many animal and plant tissues and prepared synthetically. Lecithin can be in eye creams, lipsticks, liquid powders, hand creams, lotions, soaps, shampoos, other cosmetics, and some medicines. Alternatives: soybean lecithin, synthetics.

Linoleic Acid. An essential fatty acid. Used in cosmetics, vitamins. Alternatives: (See alternatives to Fatty Acids.)

Lipase. Enzyme from the stomachs and tongue glands of calves, kids, and lambs. Used in cheese-making and in digestive aids. Alternatives: vegetable enzymes, castor beans.

Lipids. (See Lipoids.)

Lipoids. Lipids. Fat and fat-like substances that are found in animals and plants. Alternatives: vegetable oils.

Marine Oil. From fish or marine mammals (including porpoises). Used in soap-making. Used as a shortening (especially in some margarines), as a lubricant, and in paint. Alternatives: vegetable oils.

Methionine. Essential amino acid found in various proteins (usually from egg albumen and casein). Used as a texturizer and for freshness in potato chips. Alternatives: synthetics.

Milk Protein. Hydrolyzed milk protein. From the milk of cows. In cosmetics, shampoos, moisturizers, conditioners, etc. Alternatives: soy protein, other plant proteins.

Mink Oil. From minks. In cosmetics, creams, etc. Alternatives: vegetable oils and emollients such as avocado oil, almond oil, and jojoba oil.

Monoglycerides. Glycerides. (See Glycerin.) From animal fat. In margarines, cake mixes, candies, foods, etc. In cosmetics. Alternative: vegetable glycerides.

Musk (Oil). Dried secretion painfully obtained from musk deer, beaver, muskrat, civet cat, and otter genitals. Wild cats are kept captive in cages in horrible conditions and are whipped around the genitals to produce the scent; beavers are trapped; deer are shot. In perfumes and in food flavorings. Alternatives: labdanum oil (which comes from various rockrose shrubs) and other plants with a musky scent. Labdanum oil has no known

Myristal Ether Sulfate. (See Myristic Acid.)

Myristic Acid. Organic acid in most animal and vegetable fats. In butter acids. Used in shampoos, creams, cosmetics. In food flavorings. Derivatives: Isopropyl Myristate, Myristal Ether Sulfate, Myristyls, Oleyl Myristate. Alternatives: nut butters, oil of lovage, coconut oil, extract from seed kernels of nutmeg, etc.

Myristyls. (See Myristic Acid.)

"Natural Sources." Can mean animal or vegetable sources. Most often in the health food industry, especially in the cosmetics area, it means animal sources, such as animal elastin, glands, fat, protein, and oil. Alternatives: plant sources.

Nucleic Acids. In the nucleus of all living cells. Used in cosmetics, shampoos, conditioners, etc. Also in vitamins, supplements. Alternatives: plant sources.

Ocenol. (See Oleyl Alcohol.)

Octyl Dodecanol. Mixture of solid waxy alcohols. Primarily from stearyl alcohol. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Oleic Acid. Obtained from various animal and vegetable fats and oils. Usually obtained commercially from inedible tallow. (See Tallow.) In foods, soft soap, bar soap, permanent wave solutions, creams, nail polish, lipsticks, many other skin preparations. Derivatives: Oleyl Oleate, Oleyl Stearate. Alternatives: coconut oil. (See alternatives to Animal Fats and Oils.)

Oils. (See alternatives to Animal Fats and Oils.)

Oleths. (See Oleyl Alcohol.)

Oleyl Alcohol. Ocenol. Found in fish oils. Used in the manufacture of detergents, as a plasticizer for softening fabrics, and as a carrier for medications. Derivatives: Oleths, Oleyl Arachidate, Oleyl Imidazoline.

Oleyl Arachidate. (See Oleyl Alcohol.)

Oleyl Imidazoline. (See Oleyl Alcohol.)

Oleyl Myristate. (See Myristic Acid.)

Oleyl Oleate. (See Oleic Acid.)

Oleyl Stearate. (See Oleic Acid.)

Palmitamide. (See Palmitic Acid.)

Palmitamine. (See Palmitic Acid.)

Palmitate. (See Palmitic Acid.)

Palmitic Acid. From fats, oils (see Fatty Acids). Mixed with stearic acid. Found in many animal fats and plant oils. In shampoos, shaving soaps, creams. Derivatives: Palmitate, Palmitamine, Palmitamide. Alternatives: palm oil, vegetable sources.

Panthenol. Dexpanthenol. Vitamin B-Complex Factor. Provitamin B-5. Can come from animal or plant sources or synthetics. In shampoos, supplements, emollients, etc. In foods. Derivative: Panthenyl. Alternatives: synthetics, plants.

Panthenyl. (See Panthenol.)

Pepsin. In hogs' stomachs. A clotting agent. In some cheeses and vitamins. Same uses and alternatives as Rennet.

Placenta. Placenta Polypeptides Protein. Afterbirth. Contains waste matter eliminated by the fetus. Derived from the uterus of slaughtered animals. Animal placenta is widely used in skin creams, shampoos, masks, etc.Alternatives: kelp. (See alternatives to Animal Fats and Oils.)

Polyglycerol. (See Glycerin.)

Polypeptides. From animal protein. Used in cosmetics. Alternatives: plant proteins and enzymes.

Polysorbates. Derivatives of fatty acids. In cosmetics, foods.

Pristane. Obtained from the liver oil of sharks and from whale ambergris. (See Squalene, Ambergris.) Used as a lubricant and anti-corrosive agent. In cosmetics. Alternatives: plant oils, synthetics.

Progesterone. A steroid hormone used in anti-wrinkle face creams. Can have adverse systemic effects. Alternatives: synthetics.

Propolis. Tree sap gathered by bees and used as a sealant in beehives. In toothpaste, shampoo, deodorant, supplements, etc. Alternatives: tree sap, synthetics.

Provitamin A. (See Carotene.)

Provitamin B-5. (See Panthenol.)

Provitamin D-2. (See Vitamin D.)

Rennet. Rennin. Enzyme from calves' stomachs. Used in cheese-making, rennet custard (junket), and in many coagulated dairy products. Alternatives: microbial coagulating agents, bacteria culture, lemon juice, or vegetable rennet.

Rennin. (See Rennet.)

Resinous Glaze. (See Shellac.)

Ribonucleic Acid. (See RNA.)

RNA. Ribonucleic Acid. RNA is in all living cells. Used in many protein shampoos and cosmetics. Alternatives: plant cells.

Royal Jelly. Secretion from the throat glands of the honeybee workers that is fed to the larvae in a colony and to all queen larvae. No proven value in cosmetics preparations. Alternatives: aloe vera, comfrey, other plant derivatives.

Sable Brushes. From the fur of sables (weasel-like mammals). Used to make eye makeup, lipstick, and artists' brushes. Alternatives: synthetic fibers.

Sea Turtle Oil. (See Turtle Oil.)

Shark Liver Oil. Used in lubricating creams and lotions. Derivatives: Squalane, Squalene. Alternatives: vegetable oils.

Sheepskin. (See Leather.)

Shellac. Resinous Glaze. Resinous excretion of certain insects. Used as a candy glaze, in hair lacquer, and on jewelry. Alternatives: plant waxes.

Silk. Silk Powder. Silk is the shiny fiber made by silkworms to form their cocoons. Worms are boiled in their cocoons to get the silk. Used in cloth. In silk-screening (other fine cloth can be and is used instead). Taffeta can be made from silk or nylon. Silk powder is obtained from the secretion of the silkworm. It is used as a coloring agent in face powders, soaps, etc. Can cause severe allergic skin reactions and systemic reactions (if inhaled or ingested). Alternatives: milkweed seed-pod fibers, nylon, silk-cotton tree and ceiba tree filaments (kapok), rayon, and synthetic silks.

Snails. In some cosmetics (crushed).

Sodium Caseinate. (See Casein.)

Sodium Steroyl Lactylate. (See Lactic Acid.)

Sodium Tallowate. (See Tallow.)

Spermaceti. Cetyl Palmitate. Sperm Oil. Waxy oil derived from the sperm whale's head or from dolphins. In many margarines. In skin creams, ointments, shampoos, candles, etc. Used in the leather industry. May become rancid and cause irritations. Alternatives: synthetic spermaceti, jojoba oil, and other vegetable emollients.

Sponge (Luna and Sea). A plant-like animal. Lives in the sea. Becoming scarce. Alternatives: synthetic sponges, loofahs (plants used as sponges).

Squalane. (See Shark Liver Oil.)

Squalene. Oil from shark livers, etc. In cosmetics, moisturizers, hair dyes, surface-active agents. Alternatives: vegetable emollients such as olive oil, wheat germ oil, rice bran oil, etc.

Stearamide. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearamine. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearamine Oxide. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearates. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearic Acid. Fat from cows and sheep and from dogs and cats euthanized in animal shelters, etc. Most often refers to a fatty substance taken from the stomachs of pigs. Can be harsh, irritating. Used in cosmetics, soaps, lubricants, candles, hairspray, conditioners, deodorants, creams, chewing gum, food flavoring. Derivatives: Stearamide, Stearamine, Stearates, Stearic Hydrazide, Stearone, Stearoxytrimethylsilane, Stearoyl Lactylic Acid, Stearyl Betaine, Stearyl Imidazoline. Alternatives: Stearic acid can be found in many vegetable fats, coconut.

Stearic Hydrazide. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearone. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearoxytrimethylsilane. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearoyl Lactylic Acid. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearyl Acetate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyl Alcohol. Sterols. A mixture of solid alcohols. Can be prepared from sperm whale oil. In medicines, creams, rinses, shampoos, etc. Derivatives: Stearamine Oxide, Stearyl Acetate, Stearyl Caprylate, Stearyl Citrate, Stearyldimethyl Amine, Stearyl Glycyrrhetinate, Stearyl Heptanoate, Stearyl Octanoate, Stearyl Stearate. Alternatives: plant sources, vegetable stearic acid.

Stearyl Betaine. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearyl Caprylate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyl Citrate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyldimethyl Amine. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyl Glycyrrhetinate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyl Heptanoate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyl Imidazoline. (See Stearic Acid.)

Stearyl Octanoate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Stearyl Stearate. (See Stearyl Alcohol.)

Steroids. Sterols. From various animal glands or from plant tissues. Steroids include sterols. Sterols are alcohol from animals or plants (e.g., cholesterol). Used in hormone preparation. In creams, lotions, hair conditioners, fragrances, etc. Alternatives: plant tissues, synthetics.

Sterols. (See Stearyl Alcohol and Steroids.)

Suede. (See Leather.)

Tallow. Tallow Fatty Alcohol. Stearic Acid. Rendered beef fat. May cause eczema and blackheads. In wax paper, crayons, margarines, paints, rubber, lubricants, etc. In candles, soaps, lipsticks, shaving creams, other cosmetics. Chemicals (e.g., PCB) can be in animal tallow. Derivatives: Sodium Tallowate, Tallow Acid, Tallow Amide, Tallow Amine, Talloweth-6, Tallow Glycerides, Tallow Imidazoline. Alternatives: vegetable tallow, Japan tallow, paraffin and/or ceresin (see alternatives to Beeswax for all three). Paraffin is usually from petroleum, wood, coal, or shale oil.

Tallow Acid. (See Tallow.)

Tallow Amide. (See Tallow.)

Tallow Amine. (See Tallow.)

Talloweth-6. (See Tallow.)

Tallow Glycerides. (See Tallow.)

Tallow Imidazoline. (See Tallow.)

Triterpene Alcohols. (See Lanolin.)

Turtle Oil. Sea Turtle Oil. From the muscles and genitals of giant sea turtles. In soap, skin creams, nail creams, other cosmetics. Alternatives: vegetable emollients (see alternatives to Animal Fats and Oils).

Tyrosine. Amino acid hydrolyzed from casein. Used in cosmetics and creams. Derivative: Glucose Tyrosinase.

Urea. Carbamide. Excreted from urine and other bodily fluids. In deodorants, ammoniated dentifrices, mouthwashes, hair colorings, hand creams, lotions, shampoos, etc. Used to "brown" baked goods, such as pretzels. Derivatives: Imidazolidinyl Urea, Uric Acid. Alternatives: synthetics.

Uric Acid. (See Urea.)

Vitamin A. Can come from fish liver oil (e.g., shark liver oil), egg yolk, butter, lemongrass, wheat germ oil, carotene in carrots, and synthetics. It is an aliphatic alcohol. In cosmetics, creams, perfumes, hair dyes, etc. In vitamins, supplements. Alternatives: carrots, other vegetables, synthetics.

Vitamin B-Complex Factor. (See Panthenol.)

Vitamin B Factor. (See Biotin.)

Vitamin B-12. Usually animal source. Some vegetarian B-12 vitamins are in a stomach base. Alternatives: some vegetarian B-12-fortified yeasts and analogs available. Plant algae discovered containing B-12, now in supplement form (spirulina).Some nutritionist caution that fortified foods or supplements are essential.

Vitamin D. Ergocalciferol. Vitamin D-2. Ergosterol. Provitamin D-2. Calciferol. Vitamin D-3. Vitamin D can come from fish liver oil, milk, egg yolk, etc. Vitamin D-2 can come from animal fats or plant sterols. Vitamin D-3 is always from an animal source. All the D vitamins can be in creams, lotions, other cosmetics, vitamin tablets, etc. Alternatives: plant and mineral sources, synthetics, completely vegetarian vitamins, exposure of skin to sunshine. Many other vitamins can come from animal sources. Examples: choline, biotin, inositol, riboflavin, etc.

Vitamin H. (See Biotin.)

Wax. Glossy, hard substance that is soft when hot. From animals and plants. In lipsticks, depilatories, hair straighteners. Alternatives: vegetable waxes.

Whey. A serum from milk. Usually in cakes, cookies, candies, and breads. In cheese-making. Alternatives: soybean whey.

Wool. From sheep. Used in clothing. Ram lambs and old "wool" sheep are slaughtered for their meat. Sheep are transported without food or water, in extreme heat and cold. Legs are broken, eyes injured, etc. Sheep are bred to be unnaturally woolly, also unnaturally wrinkly, which causes them to get insect infestations around the tail areas. The farmer's solution to this is the painful cutting away of the flesh around the tail (called "mulesing"). "Inferior" sheep are killed. When shearing the sheep, they are pinned down violently and sheared roughly. Their skin is cut up. Every year, hundreds of thousands of shorn sheep die from exposure to cold. Natural predators of sheep (wolves, coyotes, eagles, etc.) are poisoned, trapped, and shot. In the U.S., overgrazing of cattle and sheep is turning more than 150 million acres of land to desert. "Natural" wool production uses enormous amounts of resources and energy (to breed, raise, feed, shear, transport, slaughter, etc., the sheep). Derivatives: Lanolin, Wool Wax, Wool Fat. Alternatives: cotton, cotton flannel, synthetic fibers, ramie, etc.

Wool Fat. (See Lanolin.)

Wool Wax. (See Lanolin.)

REFERENCES

Buyukmihci, Nermin. "John Cardillo's List of Animal Products and Their Alternatives." Cosmetic Ingredients Glossary: A Basic Guide to Natural Body Care Products. Petaluma, Clif.: Feather River Co., 1988. Mason, Jim, and Peter Singer. Animal Factories. New York: Crown Publishers, Inc., 1980. Ruesch, Hans. Slaughter of the Innocent. New York: Civitas, 1983. Singer, Peter. Animal Liberation. New York: Random House, 1990. Sweethardt Herb Catalogue. Webster's Third New International Dictionary. Springfield, Mass.: Merriam-Webster Inc., 1981. Winter, Ruth. A Consumer's Dictionary of Cosmetic Ingredients. New York: Crown Publishing Group, 1994. Winter, Ruth. A Consumer's Dictionary of Food Additives. New York: Crown Publishing