#Safe Cylinder Handling

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

(Part Two)

Smoke and Rosetta got some makin’ up to do

It was a reflex for him to reach for his revolver. The sound of a withering floorboard caused Smokes to jump up from his sleep and grab it from the side table swiftly.

Click.

He was ready to aim and shoot down. Smokes’ unwavering gaze in that dimly-lit room cased out every dark corner and his ears listened for any signs of an intruder. He had good form and a lethal mental. He’d heard the sound again and instantly he aimed for the floor, finger on the trigger ready to pull.

A low meow followed by a pretty tabby-cat relaxed his tense muscles. Smokes lowered his weapon with ease before silently putting the revolver back on the night stand. His brandy-colored eyes tracked the movements of the cat between his legs, trying to get a feel of who this stranger was. Eventually, the sound of music on the jukebox and Rosetta’s soft snoring helped to steady his breathing and lower his pulse. Smokes reached to flick off the lamp light and carefully settled back into the rickety mattress. He took one look at Rosetta’s sleeping face before staring up at the ceiling.

Imagine rainfall, accompanied by the sound of a warm guitar slowly picking away at the layer of your sorrows, haunting, yet beautiful. A sense of serenity entered his mind, extinguishing the flames that burn his soul. For a moment, Smokes could feel, and think nothing. So brief, yet so long, he felt at ease. The melody carrying him across distant shores, feeling weightless in its entranced groove. He flew with the progression of the song, eyes closed, allowing his emotions to guide his path. Up and down his chest rose. Beyond the murky sky, the white glow of the moon shown through the window.

A dainty hand touched his chest. Smokes reached up to grasp it, rubbing it with his thumb. His bare dick against his thigh began to grow. Smokes brought her hand to his plump lips and kissed her there gently. The bed creaked beneath them. Smokes glanced down within the darkness, his eyes connecting with the sleepy, doe eyes of his Rosey. Her naked silhouette entranced him. The dip of her hip and the way her breasts hung from her chest aroused him to no end.

It was the way her long, deep wavy hair fell over the pillow. The pearls around her neck made her look ritzy and those red-tinged kissers made him salivate to taste her again. She was breathtaking. And Smokes didn’t lie when he meant she’s the most beautiful in N’awlins. Rosetta sat up and Smokes looked up into her heavenly face. Her fingertips danced across the ridges of muscle on his torso, her eyes never leaving his.

“Can’t sleep, daddy?” She says, voice soft and warm.

“That cat of yours woke me up out my sleep, gal…”

“Not you afraid of cats now…”

Rosetta giggled. Smokes chuckled slightly.

“I ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ cat…I’m just…been out there in some shit, baby. This the first time I had decent sleep.”

Rosetta looked towards Smokes’ revolver. Smoke followed her eyesight.

“I want one. My own gun.” Rosetta said.

“Oh?” Smokes sat up, “is that so?”

“Mhm. You can show me how to point that thang since you back home. Remember, you said you would…”

“I did.”

Rosetta sat up and Smokes situated her between his legs with her back against his chest. Grabbing the revolver, Smokes pointed it in a safe direction. A safe direction means that the gun is pointed in such a way that an accidental fire would not cause any harm. Rosetta watched with great interest. Smokes accessed the cylinder, emptying the bullets before clicking it back in place.

“Aight, Rosey…wrap your dominant hand ‘round the handle…use this hand for support.”

Arms outstretched, Smokes helped Rosetta point the revolver straight ahead at a wall covered with peeling paper.

“Straighten ya elbows, doll…no need to cock it, but steady ya breath…finger on the trigger…”

“It feels…heavy.”

“Hm. Imagine it with bullets.”

Smokes grazed Rosetta’s neck with his fluffy lips. The lingering smell of amber and sweat against his broad nose.

“That’s how you do it. I’ll take ya’ out to shoot soon…”

The urge to stuff his fat dick in her again created a tickling sensation just beneath his navel. Smokes felt at ease being with his woman again. He’d never leave her side again. Even if Stacks got in the way.

Smokes gave Rosey a wet sloppy kiss to her neck. She tilted her head and his thick tongue grazed over the rapid pulse in her neck and directly over that spot that got her wet every time. His thicker fingers were groping her breasts. Rosey released a breathy moan before looking back at Smokes, one hand on the back of his neck, forcing his lips against hers.

Their tongues moved in tandem, the squeaky springs of her not so sturdy bed surrounding them. Rosetta spun around and straddled his lap. Smokes kicked the sheets away from him, adjusting his large body to accommodate Rosetta. The wobbly, metal headboard banged against the wall when she flopped down into his lap.

One hand around her neck, Smokes tugged lightly, bringing Rosetta’s lips to his again. His other hand reached between her meaty thighs to feel the heat and dampness of her folds. Smokes growled against her lips. His dick was cast iron hard and read to fit inside her tight snatch again.

“Tilt ‘dem hips…atta, girl,” Smokes tapped her pussy with his big dick, “Time to fuck on this dick again, baby…”

“Yes, Papa…”

Rosetta wiggled her hips down onto Smokes thick pipe and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Smokes popped her on the ass hard, his way of telling her to get all the way down. Fully stuffed, Rosetta grabbed onto Smokes shoulders and with a whirl of her hips and a bounce she rode him on that rickety bed like it was her last time.

The fullness stretching her out made her shout Papa, Papa, Papa over and over. Smokes was too damn big for that bed but he made it work. He dug his heels into the lumpy mattress and with both hands he kept her cheeks spread while pumping up into her as she dropped down. Wet, skin slapping noises mixed with the way the bed jumped and creaked beneath them.

The steel of the revolver pressed against Rosetta’s knee each time she bounced. It was rough like she needed it. Deep dicking in her bedroom beneath the moonlight. Smokes slammed up in her so good Rosetta spread her thighs more to feel it stretch her. She craved the soreness, the way it tugged on her clit, the slight sting of his heavy balls slapping her ass.

Pop pop pop

Smack smack smack

Clap clap clap

“Damn, Rosey, gettin’ real whacky on that dick, fuck.”

Smokes grabbed her hips and helped her bounce on his length like a good little fuck doll. Her wavy hair shielded her eyes and those pretty titties swayed in his face.

“You hittin’ my spot, Big Daddy…you hittin’ it so good…make your pussy cum…make your bitch pussy cum…”

“Rosey–”

“Dig deeper, Papa–”

“Grip this dick and wet it up with that sweet nectar!”

Rosetta choked his dick with her walls and her cum trickled down his dick and over his balls. Hand in her hair, Smokes slammed his lips against hers while thrusting deeper.

He needed her more.

Smokes put Rosetta on her back and her legs in the air. He dived back in that pussy with his toes planted against the mattress. Rosetta clawed his back up and they both watched it go in and out. Smokes savored her nipples with his lips and tongue, ignoring the hollow dents in the wall from the headboard.

He grabbed a foot and stuck her red–painted toes in his mouth. Rosetta was super soaker wet on that dick, creating a large stain beneath her ass.

“I just wanna eat you up and fuck you…”

Smokes stared down at that hairy pussy with her leg thrown over his shoulder. He released a breath that came out like the hiss of a locomotive. That shit looked beautiful. If he could paint a picture of the way his dick all big and long spread her open he would. The sweat and humidity in that room made it hard to breath. All he wanted to do was be in his woman. They’ll crack a window eventually.

Well, I’ve got a meat grinder, it belongs to me

It's got good movements, I use it constantly

I’ve got a meat grinder, it belongs to me

It's got good movements, I use it constantly

You don't like good grindin', you ain't gotta bit of sense

It's been going on ever since the world commenced

If you don't like good grindin', ain't gotta bit of sense

‘Cause it's been going on, ever since the world commenced…

“That’s it, Big Daddy, cum all in your fat pussy…”

“Oh, yeah?”

Smokes folded Rosetta in half and pounded the fuck outta her. She furrowed her brows, chewed on that lip hard, and spread her pussy lips with those red nails like she wasn’t open enough already.

“Smokes! Yes! Don’t stop fucking me! Don’t stop fuckin’ your creamy pussy! Milk it, Daddy! Fill me up! Papa! That good hard dick!”

“Ahhhhhhhh–”

“Smoke…oooh…yes…yes…right there, daddy…don’t stop…ooooo shiiiit, daddy…fuuck….get it, da–DDY…”

Smokes gave Rosetta a heated glare and just like that he was filling her to the brim with his thick semen, painting her walls heavily. Dick slipping out, he painted her clit with more. Smokes rubbed his tip between her folds, eliciting a creamy noise. Their tired breaths mingled. Smokes slipped from the bed and stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

He ran a bath and took a piss. Rosetta perched her gorgeous frame against the doorway, body glistening from sweat and cum. She was a sight to behold. Smokes is a lucky man. A bar of Palmolive sat untouched on the edge of the claw foot tub. While Smokes shook the access urine from his dick, Rosetta opened a jar filled with lavender, rosemary, and chamomile herbs, sprinkling it into the tub.

It was big enough to fit the both of them. Smokes slipped in first and then Rosetta settled in front of him. They used a soap sponge to clean each other off thoroughly. This was serenity. Encased in her sweet embrace.

“I love you, Rosey.” He whispered.

“And I love you…”

——

The smell of bacon and butter wafted Rosetta’s nose that early morning. She sat up, messy hair in her face while she stretched her tired arms above her head. Smokes being gone told her that he was cooking up some breakfast. Rosetta threw her sheets back from her body and snatched a satin robe from a coat hanger next to her bed. Feet sliding into a pair of house shoes, she looked down and noticed deep scratches in the wood paneling.

She would need to cover that up with a rug or get someone to buffer that out. She didn’t want her mama to have a fit.

Rosetta made her way into the kitchen, the tea kettle whistling as she approached. Smokes moved about the small room with a blunt between his lips and his dick out and swangin. Rosetta admired his tight ass before her eyes swept over his muscular back. She could see that he was making bacon, buttered toast, eggs, and grits. Smokes sat the cast iron on the stove and looked back when he’d heard footsteps.

“Mornin’ sunshine…”

He pecked her lips.

“Smells real good in here,” Rosetta stole a slice of bacon, “I’m hungry from all that sex.”

“Gotta feed you then, huh?” Smokes winked at Rosetta.

Rosetta stole the blunt from his lips and took a hit.

She coughed slightly, Smokes chuckling.

“Careful wit’ that there, Rosey…”

She took another hit and blew smoke towards him to taunt him before sticking her tongue out. Smoke tapped her on the booty.

“Sit that pretty tail down. I’m a plate this food up.”

Rosetta settled in a dining chair. She noticed the news paper and fresh milk on the table. He must of gone to grab it. Rosetta grabbed the paper and opened it to read. She crossed one shapely leg over the other blunt between her fingers as she held the paper up.

“A train hijacking?” Rosetta announced with surprise.

Smokes glanced over at Rosetta while her brown eyes were glued to the paper. He packed her plate and walked over, placing it in front of her. Back at the stove, Smokes poured her a cup of tea.

“Jesus, killed everyone on board…”

“Gimme’ some neck…”

Rosetta tilted her lips towards Smokes and he stuck his tongue in her mouth. The grip she had on the paper slipped. Smokes snatched it from her grasp and placed it on the table with a loud slap.

“Eat, girl.”

Rosetta grabbed her fork but her eyes remained on Smokes. He could feel her staring while he situated himself across from her.

“Level with me, Smokes…you know ‘bout this?”

“Don’t know from nothing, gal. Eat.”

“I’ll eat when you talk to me.”

“Ain’t nothin to share, baby. Everything is copacetic…”

“Did Stacks do this?” Rosetta questioned.

Smokes’ fork clashed with the table. He gave Rosetta a pointed look of warning. Letting her know to drop it.

“Wasn’t Stacks. Wasn’t me. Wasn’t nobody to get all worked up over. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Smokes…I don’t want you gettin’ yourself in trouble. It’s enough that Phonzo wants you dead—”

“Phonzo punk ass already dead. Might as well call it what it is.”

Rosetta bit her tongue. She knew arguing wouldn’t get her the answers she needed. She didn’t want Smokes to return and get himself into deep shit. She knew he was more than capable of handling himself, but Rosetta needed him alive, especially if she planned to marry him and have his butterball babies.

They ate in silence, the food tasty. Smokes sensed that she wanted more, so he filled her plate up again and Rosetta thanked him with a small smile and a kiss. Smokes watched her eat while smoking his weed and when she finished he cleaned. Rosetta drank her tea with those smooth and thick ol’ gams teasing Smoke’s eyes.

As he scrubbed, Rosetta spread her legs in that chair and spread her lower lips with her fingers. Sweet pink graced his eyes. Smokes watched her stroke her clit. He was high and horny again. Dick stood out like a flag pole.

“You want daddy to eat that pussy…”

“Mhm,” Rosetta licked her plump lips.

Smokes dried his hands and marched over to Rosetta. He picked her up and walked her to the couch.

“Wait, not here—”

“This Miss. Doris’ good furniture,” Smokes laughed, not caring at all about the sofa, “Good thing it’s covered in plastic…”

Her legs parted like the Red Sea. Hips aching and inner thighs burning. Smokes wasted no time slurping on her pussy with a wet tongue and thick lips. Rosetta palmed the back of his head and mushed his face in it. He had a habit of being loud while eating pussy. She could feel herself creaming on his chin when he latched onto her clit to suck.

“Yes, oh, fuck, mmmm….”

Rosetta frowned her pretty face. She had a face that belonged in movies. A rare beauty. Smokes never took his eyes off of her, not even when she came in his mouth. He stuck his tongue so far up her pussy to catch it all. Her robe had spilled open, revealing that hot body to him again. Smokes reached up and rolled her nipples between his fingers while continuing to feast on her overflowing pussy.

Smokes popped his lips off her clit to stare down at his work, “you betta cum again,” He sucked again before stopping, “Cum in my mouth before I stuff you again,” He slurped her up again and Rosetta moaned out, “You know who this pussy belong to. Not Phonzo, not no other nigga…”

Rosetta had to pick her lip up to stop herself from drooling. Her eyes crossed as another orgasm rocked her body. She closed her thighs around Smokes head, unable to take the licks he was giving her.

“Got me ready to fuck again,” Smokes took it upon himself to bend Rosetta over the couch, “Bend that back…atta girl…daddy’s good girl,” Smokes spread her ass cheeks wide and grunted, “Shit, Rosey…”

He hunched his body and with the power of his hips he sank into that good twat. Rosetta rode his tip before he could even fit in. He popped her on the ass with his wide palm before thrusting up and deep. Already she was creaming on his dick. Smokes had her by the arms as he pounded.

Rosetta had that IT like no other. Pretty ass voice, pretty ass doll, perfect pussy, perfect face. Smokes watched her head loll back and forth from the momentous pounding he was giving her. That back arched and that ass jiggling. Her knees almost slipped from the sofa so Smokes had to fix her and put his hand in the middle of her back to keep her stationary.

“I’m a fuck a baby in you.”

Rosetta moaned and clenched his dick.

“Like that? Like when I tell you how I’m a get you pregnant? Like that, sweet baby? Make me a Daddy?”

“YES!”

“All wet on Big Daddy’s dick.”

“Oh, Jesus!” Rosetta yelped when his hand wrapped around her neck from the front, bucking those strong hips and slapping those big nuts against her clit.

Smokes growled deep and with two staggering strokes he came inside of her again. He abruptly turned Rosetta’s head and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Crack!

Smokes slipped out of Rosey fast and stood tall. Rosetta turned onto her backside quickly, staring up at Smokes with wide eyes.

“Fuck was dat?”

Smokes moved with a brisk pace towards the window within the kitchen, he peered down past the small glass panel at his car.

“What is it, Elijah?”

Rosetta stood behind him with a worried look etched into her beautiful face. Smokes took deep breaths before exiting the kitchen, Rosetta on his heels. He entered her room and grabbed up his pants, uncaring that his underwear sat on the floor.

“Elijah!”

“Stay here…”

Smokes grabbed up his revolve and loaded it up.

Click.

He stormed out of Rosetta’s apartment and down the small staircase leading into the boutique. As he drew closer, his eyes became wild with anger. He unlocked the door and stormed out into the smelting heat with his gun raised. There, a brick lay at his feet. Smokes bent down to pick it up, his cognac eyes following a trail of broken glass until he came upon the shattered window of his Cadillac.

Some people gathered outside to see what all the fuss was about. Smokes peered at them, eyes accusatory and rageful. He knew it had to be someone from Phonzo’s crew. A cheap shot, but still…Smokes was furious. Chest puffed out, he tossed the brick and entered the shop. Locking it up tightly, Smokes turned to find Rosetta staring up at him with a fearful glance.

“They busted out your window…”

“Ain’t nothin’ I can get that patched up…”

Smokes grabbed Rosetta by the elbow, turning her back towards the stairs.

“Daddy gotta go handle some thangs…I want you to stay put and out the way—”

“I’m coming with you, Elijah—”

“No—”

“YES! Yes the fuck I am!”

Rosetta snatched her arm from his hold and stood firm as she glared down at him on the steps.

“I’m tagging along whether ya like it or not.”

Smokes clenched his jaw. Their eyes danced between each other before Rosetta turned her back at him, climbing up.

——

“Scotch…”

Smokes accepted his glass, adjusting Rosetta in his lap. He sat across from his twin, Stacks, the gold in his mouth gleaming. They were sitting in a bar, the sound of distant chatter and glass in the background. The smoke from the cigars they were smoking billowed out like a thick fog. Rosetta wore a chocolate–brown Blondell dress with pantyhose and embroidered T–Straps on her feet in gold. A cloche hat that had covered most of her hair and much of her face was a last minute accessory since she didn’t have time to fix her hair after sweating it all out fucking.

Smokes’ 8-panel hat sat over his own messy hair and he wore his button down shirt untidy with his white beater on display. Stacks looked dapper in his double-breasted mahogany suit with shiny silver buttons and matching cufflinks. Copper silk tie, and black and brown woven Oxford shoes complete the look. His fedora sat on the table next to him.

The Big Cheese took a sip of his own scotch.

“How was your night with that snow bunny?”

Stacks chuckled, “As good as yours was I’m sure, brother. Lay it on me…Phonzo askin’ to go war? Does he not know who he fuckin’ wit?”

“You know dat nigga stupid, Stacks,” He checks his dominoes, “I got word that he’ll want to meet up tonight. I’m not much for talkin’…”

“Hm,” Smokes puffed on his cigar before speaking, “You thinkin’ the corn field?”

“Dig a ditch or two,” Smokes threw out.

“I’ll get Monty on it.”

Rosetta listened to the twins discuss killing and burying Phonzo and whoever else in a corn field. She shivered within Smokes’ lap.

“How ya been, Rosey? Still singing?”

“Of course,” Rosetta smirked at Stacks, “Still gettin’ into trouble I see.”

“You mean your man here,” Stacks pointed towards Smokes, “He’s the trouble.”

“How so?”

“Go on and tell her how you was in Texas.”

Rosetta quirked an arched brow. Smokes shook his head.

“Takin’ his word over mine ain’t the way to go, baby.”

“Uh-huh.” Rosetta wasn’t fully convinced.

She grabbed Smokes’ glass and took a sip. Rosetta watched the twins play another round of dominoes and catch up before Stacks made his leave. He had to make sure things were in order before tonight. A jazz ballad played and Rosetta swayed her hips in Smokes’ lap. She could feel him poking and the thought of sliding up and down on that pole sent chills down her spine.

“Careful there, Tiger,” Rosetta lifted his chin with her finger, “I still gotta cook you dinner.”

“A meal before I bump off? My kinda lady…”

Josephine Baker–I Love My Baby started playing, her voice projecting in a way that emphasized a higher frequency, leading to a brighter, more nasal tone. Rosetta caressed Smokes’ handsome face while staring deeply into his eyes. She sang along to the words, husky breathy tone drawing him in.

Sometimes we quarrel and maybe we fight

But then we make up the following night

When we're together we're great company

I love my baby, my baby loves me

The spell she had on Smokes brought him to his knees before her. He stared at her with those bedroom eyes and a half smirk while she sang to him in his lap. That smoking hot chassis was enough to make him fuck her right there. Smoke tapped his foot and rocked his head while she serenaded him. Others in the bar watched with wonder while balancing liquor and ciggs.

When the song faded out, Rosetta gave Smokes a slow kiss. A wolf whistle echoed and Smokes removed his hat to shield them from view so he could tongue his woman down.

“If it’s a girl, I wanna name her Ella, after my mama…”

“That’s a beautiful name, Elijah.” Rosetta smiled against his lips.

“If it’s a boy,” Smokes took a sip of his scotch, “Emmett.”

Rosetta swatted his bicep with her dainty hand.

“What was that fa’?!” Smokes protested with a dimpled grin.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing!”

“That’s why you my woman…”

Smokes kissed on Rosetta’s neck causing her to giggle. They were both pleasantly faded.

“Is that Smokes?”

“Ida Mae…”

The curvy dame settled in front of them, dolled up and doused in perfume. The smell of Bergamot, Orange Blossom and Lemon burning Rosetta’s nose. Her back stiffened as she surveyed the woman with her sultry eyes and chandelier earrings. Her dark red lips quirked up into a flirty smile.

“When did you high tail back into Nola?”

“A day ago. Why’s you askin’?”

Ida Mae locked eyes with Rosetta for a second.

“Just missed ya’ that’s all. Stacks back too?”

“Ya’ know it.” Smokes replied, caressing Rosetta’s waist, “This is my woman, Rosetta. Rosey, this here is Ida Mae…”

“Pleasantries,” Ida Mae tilted her head in greeting.

Rosetta’s lips remained sealed.

“She owns that whore house in Storyville.”

“Is that so?”

Rosetta cut her eyes at Smokes.

“Yes, a good business if ya’ ask me. Selling pussy is on the up and up, especially these days. Got too much shit to stress about.”

Was he dipping in pussy she didn’t know about? Why the fuck would Ida do some disrespectful shit and flirt with her man in front of her? Smokes had some explaining to do.

“Well, just wanted to say hello. Good seeing ya’ Smokes…tell Stacks I said don’t be a stranger…”

“Will do, Ida.”

She walked away with a tantalizing sway of her hips.

“You wanna tell me what that was?” Rosetta cut to the quick.

“I ain’t fuck nobody else if that’s what ya’ asking.”

“You fuck Ida? Don’t lie to me Smokes…”

“Rosey, cut it out. Ida and Stacks used to fuck ‘round. Probably still do.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m no sappy bird I can tell. Prolly made a stop to that whore house before coming to me. Been writing Ida to keep that pussy ready—”

“Rosey, shut up.” Smokes said through gritted teeth.

“Shut up?” Rosetta kissed her teeth before pushing off of Smokes’ lap, “Go after her!”

Smokes narrowed his eyes at her.

“I ain’t lying to you, Rosetta.”

Rosetta stomped away towards the exit. Smokes followed after her, catching her before she could open the door. He walked with her in his grasp outside, the afternoon heat unbearable. Already he was sweating profusely. Smokes turned her around to face him. Rosetta pointed her gaze over his shoulder, refusing to look at him.

She could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

“I love you. Only you. You need to understand that and quick,” Smokes spoke angrily so close to Rosetta’s face his breath laced with liquor and a hint of chocolate and black pepper from his cigar wafted her nose.

Rosetta pouted. Smokes gripped her chin tight to make her look him in the eye. He needed her to know he was serious.

“Stop it, hear me?”

“Okay…”

She looked from his eyes to his lips.

“So damn hard–headed…”

He kissed her lips before popping her on the ass.

“I’m a drop you off at the shop, okay? I gotta get this window fixed.”

Smokes made sure Rosetta was settled in her seat before he got in. The drive was less than ten minutes. Smokes made sure she was situated, blowing her a kiss through the glass door of the shop before driving off.

Rosetta’s doe eyes followed Smokes’ retreating car.

She wanted to believe he was loyal to her and only her. He’d always been. Maybe it was her mother’s words making her feel insecure. Her mother hated Elijah. Rosetta planned to cook up a steak dinner for Smokes. Ready to get to it, she climbed the stairs and before she opened her door, she noticed a kitchen knife sticking out of the keyhole.

Rosetta gasped, hand covering her mouth. Fear consumed her as she stood there, staring between the crack of the door and into a pitch black abyss. It was eerily silent. Rosetta took a chance and pushed open the door. The light from the stairwell flooded the room. So far, as she peeked inside, she couldn’t see anyone.

Rosetta stepped over the threshold and grabbed the handle of the knife, tugging it to release. She held the knife out in front of her, hand shaking with nerves. Her glossy eyes bounced left and right. She fully stepped inside, frantically moving her hand along the wall until she felt the string of the lamp light. A pinch of relief flooded her veins when the room brightened.

That was all stripped from her just as fast when a gloved hand slipped over her mouth and the weight of a gun pressed into her hip.

——

Hope ya’ll enjoy part two 😏😌

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[potato-frenzy]

"Bill.....Bill? Billiammmmmm...Mr. Triangle Apocalypse Criminal Serving Time As A Dirty Human...."

Bill jolts hard enough to send his bowl of honeycomb cereal and oatmilk tottering across the table, hissing at what are soon to be blooming bruises on his knees. Sensory input rushing back in so fast he feels his vision white out, grey creeping in at the edges as his chest begins the jackhammering act again. "Oh my god! Don't die! Not like this! Holy crap, Dipper!"

He only distantly hears Mabel's voice as he slumps out of the kitchen chair, lost against the backdrop of bloodflow and electrical wiring in the walls. His head doesn't crack on the linoleum funnily enough and part of him notes it but the rest of him is lost in the whiteout of sensation assaulting all too human sense. Noise above everything but ligaments and cartilage are a horrible thing to be able to feel when those are elasticated a certain way. Smell never seems to be very obtrusive but tasting dust and wood and plastic as well a hundred other things in a space.

He's never really aware of how long these things last, but he knows that as long as he's not alone it's okay.

Eventually things settled, his awareness comes back to the background noise levels that humans are supposed to operate at. His nervous system no longer able to handle higher levels of input. He blinks away the white and spots and finds himself looking up at Dipper's stricken face and then he registers the taste of blood.

"Did you ......stick your hand in my mouth?" The fifteen year old Pines guiltily tucks bloodied fingers into a vest pocket. Bill can't muster the energy to roll his eyes as the frayed edges of lessening awareness ease.

Another set of hands helps him sit up and he feels his stomach flip uncomfortably. "Did Sixer never tell you that I have a bite clip for that, Pine Tree? It's literally like......in my pocket." Bill grumbles, almost slurred as the younger twins help him back into the chair.

"I was just reading the section of your care guide where the seizures were being covered when Mabel screamed so......" Dipper grumbles as his sister shoves him into another before going to get the first aid kit.

It's the first summer since his return to this reality that the two have spent with their uncles. The pair had reacted poorly at first, both convinced that Bill was playing some long con. But it wasn't very long before they realized he was genuinely helpless. Stanley being willing to care for him in this state, keeping non-dairy alternatives and other GI safe foods in the house so he doesn't die, was a big help.

"What triggered it? The guide said they weren't random. Ouch, Mabel!" Dipper hisses as his bleeding fingers are sprayed with peroxide and Bill has a moment to look at this face that he's looked out of at one point. The younger twins are as identical as their uncles, almost eerily so since Mabel got a pixie cut about two weeks into their stay.

"I don't know, all I was really aware of before everything started exploding was Glitterbomb on the phone with........Puma?"

"Her name is Fatma, Twinkmageddon!" An accusing, jingly, glitter acrylic nail tipped finger is jabbed in Bill's direction. Glitterbomb is a not inaccurate description of the femme Pines twin. Bedecked as she is in glittery resin jewelry, bedazzled denim, and chains dripping in brightly colored charms. "You know my girlfriend's name, you just refused to use it."

"Well excUuuUuse me, princess. I just had my jiggly brain loaf of grey matter firing on all cylinders to a degree that is considered unhealthy according to some. If I misremember a rando's name in the direct aftermath, I apologize." Bill drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes hard enough to see camera flash after images and cracking his neck with concerningly loud pops like a BB gun.

"Enough," Dipper snaps, yanking on his sister's chain belt. She glares out of the corner of her eye as she returns to the task of patching her brother up. The masc twin groans at the bickering, not like he isn't just as prone to sniping about Bill's situation, but pulls the care guide out of his vest pocket. "I didn't read what the typical observed triggers were yet....."

"Pain or sensory overload or both." Bill answers before Dipper can find his place in the book again. Busily pretzeling his legs under himself as his heartrate takes it's sweet time returning to resting.

"Ah, okay.....Are the lights in here too much? Are you in pain?" Ever the scientist, his fringe falling his eyes as he leafs through the guide while he gathers data.

"Not any more than normal. Chapter 2, kemosabi."

"Right, your baseline is a 3. What could have set you off?" Dipper flexes his hand as the last Jurassic Park bandaid is secured to his fingers, the gears in his brain going as he mulls the presented problem.

"Well, I just know that he started spacing out while I was on the phone and then jumped like he got electrocuted when I touched him." Mabel jingles about, putting the first aid kit away grumpily.

"You ruined a good dissociation is what you did-"

"Oh my god! Too much sensory input due to coming back from a dissociative episode too quickly!" Bill can feel his heartrate spike, his ribs protesting by twitching threateningly, vision tinging grey slightly. Dipper sounds way too excited by the discovery.

"Congratulations on your breakthrough, Baby Einstein." Bill drawls again, slumping against the sticky surface of the kitchen table to steady himself.

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

I would die for Mabel Pines, that's my girl.

This piece is brought to you by my experience with pain/sensory seizures. The POTS symptoms are courtesy of my partner, the EDS is just for fun.

For reference, the first piece was six weeks into Bill's mortal tenure. This one is seven months in, the younger twins have been back for a month. This is the summer between their freshman and sophomore years of highschool. They're turning sixteen at the end of the summer.

Still mulling Dipper's evolution, but, Mabel is a baby lesbian and basically glitter punk. Her girlfriend is trans btw.

[hirocimacruiser]

Honda Civic brochure pages.

CIVIC

The Super Civic was a new trend car with economy and dynamic performance suited to the 1980s.

1300 S

1500 SC

It perfectly combines the best fuel economy in the 1500cc class with powerful driving performance.

Resource and energy conservation are common themes around the world. The new CIVIC is available with a new engine system that takes advantage of the excellent combustion efficiency of the lean burn method, which is the greatest advantage of the CVCC engine. It offers not only excellent fuel economy, but also low maintenance costs and a low price.

10 mode driving, Ministry of Transport inspection value

1500CE model E-SR 18 km/l

60km/h constant speed test value

28km/l 1500CE, GF (5 door) Model E/SR, Model E-ST

And yet, it still has the powerful driving feel of a sports car. It's truly a Super Civic.

For example, the new cliff-cut panel in front of the passenger seat provides enough space that there is no need to push the seat back.

An aerodynamic body that provides a smooth ride.

The styling minimizes air resistance and is focused on practical aerodynamics. It is agile in urban areas and stable and smooth on the highway. The new suspension grips the road firmly.

The springs of the front and rear suspensions have been offset to provide a more comfortable ride. The rear also uses a new Honda-style strut system, a world first, to ensure sufficient compliance. The suspension is much tighter.

1300・5-door LX

A new instrument panel.

The functions necessary for driving are concentrated around the driver. The centralized target meter () that places the speedometer and tachometer in one view, as well as the newly designed rotary channel radio, are also standard equipment. The design is easy to see and use.

A large, international-sized interior designed for the world.

Compared to conventional 5-door vehicles, the interior length is 25 mm longer and the interior width is 35 mm wider. Furthermore, the clever use of each space has resulted in an amazingly efficient interior.

All models are fully open hatchbacks.

It is a big opening that opens to the full width of the body from a low position, that is, just above the bumper. Moreover, the interior floor is low and flat. Large and wide objects can be easily loaded. The three-stage variable rear seat is extremely practical. It is a design that prioritizes ease of use.

1500 3door CX

Wild ride. CX

1500 3door CE

CIVIC

1500 5door CF

1300・3-door SE Model E-SL Engine model EJ ●CVCC・1,335cm2・Water-cooled inline 4-cylinder horizontally mounted OHC-68 horsepower ●Fuel economy 22km/ℓ(60km/h・flat road test value)●Front-wheel drive●Overall length 3,760mmOverall width 1,580mm ●Strut-type four-wheel independent suspension●Front-wheel disc brakes ●4-speed

1500, 3-door CE, Model E-SR, Engine model EM CVCC-1.488cm2, water-cooled in-line 4-cylinder, horizontally mounted, OHC-80 horsepower, Fuel economy 28km/ℓ (60km/h, constant speed test value), 18km/ℓ (10 mode running, Ministry of Transport review value), Front-wheel drive, Overall length 3,760mm, Overall width 1,580mm, Strut-type four-wheel independent suspension, Front wheels, Disc brakes with servo, 5-row

*1500-3 door SE is made to order.

If you're looking for a Civic, visit your local Honda dealer.

CIVIC VAN

Gentle on luggage and gentle on people. The capable Civic Van is born.

The luggage compartment is 1,520mm long (with two occupants), 1,270mm wide at its widest point, and 805mm high, making it spacious and easy to handle. Highly refined quality. Powerful and robust dynamic performance. Extremely quiet and safe, this is the birth of a reliable business car that pursues a high level of harmony between passengers and business.

1300-5 door SV, LV model J-VC Engine model EN 1,335cm * Water-cooled inline 4-cylinder horizontal OHC, 70 horsepower ● Fuel economy 18.5km/(60km/h, constant speed test value) ● Front wheel drive ● Overall length 3,995mm, overall width 1,580m, overall height 1,385mm ● Front wheel servo disc brakes ● 4-speed

[planetary-gus]

In Which Things Get a Lot Worse (and Slightly Better)

Fandom: Varian and the Seven Kingdoms

Full version on Ao3: here

Prompt: Possession

Hugo didn't know what to do.

This was something that scared Don.

How in the 7 kingdoms would he be able to handle this?

"He released Ulla..." were the last words he could make out from Don before she and Cyrus disappeared.

It was just him and Varian now.

Everything was fine.

Everything would be okay.

Varian's eyes were just glowing bright blue.

He could definitely handle this.

Right?

"Varian? Can you hear me?" He asked softly.

His lips curled upwards in a terrifying smirk.

Books started floating behind him.

Varian's feet lifted off the ground.

"I knew Donnie was never the maternal type. Not like me. She just doesn't understand what it takes to protect the one you most love. Not like I do. Not like you'll learn."

The voice coming out of his mouth wasn't Varian's. It was higher, more feminine.

Ulla's voice.

Hugo had never heard it but he was sure that's what it had to be.

"Varian–" he started.

"I'm afraid he's not here right now. You shouldn't even be talking to him. Not after what you did. You hurt him. And now you'll pay the price for it." Ulla's voice said, locking Varian's eyes onto him, the books that were floating around started circling him, closing him into a spinning cylinder of books.

Hugo's breath hitched. His ribs were sore, and he was tired. But clearly things weren't done yet.

"Varian please, you need to fight her! It'll all be okay, but we need to leave!"

"Oh, I'll definitely be leaving. Just as soon as you're eliminated from his life. And he won't bother fighting me. He let me in after all. All the pain in his heart, those painful memories of his life, he's been a hurt a lot. I'll make sure it never happens again. His mind is sharper than mine. I always knew he'd be great when he was older."

Tears started to well in his eyes. This wasn't Varian. He knew Varian had suffered a lot, and he'd now contributed to it, but he would never let something like this happen. It's just not something he would do.

Varian had always hated listening; there's no way in hell he'd stand for this.

"Varian please! I know I fucked up! But please! I know you're in there! Fight her!"

The books closed in around him.

He panicked, what does he do?

What should he say?

He took a deep breath

"I love you!" He screamed as loud as he could. And he didn't stop there, "I love you okay! I'm sorry! I never meant to hurt you I wanted to keep you safe from this! I really did! But I couldn't, and I fucked up, and you're hurting now, but please... please... just fight her Varian! Please! Please..." His voice cracked as he finished and sunk to the ground with a defeated sigh.

He expected an attack for that, surely Ulla wouldn't tolerate from him.

But... it never came.

[hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard]

CYLINDER may explode if damaged.

7.a. Use only compressed gas cylinders containing the correct shielding gas for the process used and properly operating regulators designed for the gas and

pressure used. All hoses, fittings, etc. should be suitable for the application and maintained in good condition.

7.b. Always keep cylinders in an upright position securely chained to an undercarriage or fixed support.

7.c. Cylinders should be located:

•Away from areas where they may be struck or subjected to physical damage.

•A safe distance from arc welding or cutting operations and any other source of heat, sparks, or flame.

7.d. Never allow the electrode, electrode holder or any other electrically "hot" parts to touch a cylinder.

7.e. Keep your head and face away from the cylinder valve outlet when opening the cylinder valve.

7.f. Valve protection caps should always be in place and hand tight except when the cylinder is in use or connected for use.

7.g. Read and follow the instructions on compressed gas cylinders, associated equipment, and GA publication P-1,

"Precautions for Safe Handling of Compressed Gases in Cylinders," available from the Compressed Gas Association

1235 Jefferson Davis Highway, Arlington, VA 22202.

[meli-writes]

Prescription

/// CW: peril (gunpoint), dubious consent, impact play, partial nudity, whorephobia, and mention of transphobia. ///

The handle came away with an unsettling clatter but, greatly relieving for Lili, could tumble safely away to the carpet. Every other mansion she’d seen was floored-to-ceiling’d with rich, deepening hardwoods as percussive as they were unethically imported.

Someone at last had the unwise taste to make things a bit softer, and no one would hear Lili’s heels clacking away then back to the evening’s do.

She pressed the door openly, slipping through the gap into a gently-lit abyss. No one would notice. Lili turned to peer behind the door and felt a warm, metal cylinder press itself against her cheek. At least that’s what she thought.

The fireplace twinkled and crackled slowly in the shadow’s eyes, Lili looked away burning with terror while her body froze in place. “Gotcha.”

“Goodness me, awfully sorry Mam. Just— getting myself lost is all now.” Perhaps the definitely mob-affiliated lady, tucked away in a dead-quiet study, hadn't just heard several minutes of failed lockpicking, followed by some furious few minutes of unscrewing.

“Hmm. I don’t think I’m as sure, my eyes have followed you all evening, darling. Has something been making you nervous?”

“No no, Mam. Quite ordinary for my face, always greeting with anxiety. And come to mention it, I’m here with—” Smack.

Before she could dare wonder where the barrel was the shadow had circled round and spanked her, then pressed the pistol harshly into the curve of her back, forcing her forward into the room’s centre, away from escape.

“What is it you're looking for?”

“Oh nothing important— please— just, the bathroom?”

Lili hadn’t hydrated for hours beforehand, spiro would get in her way, so even a few sips of dinner’s rosy pairing had left her lightheaded. The shadow’s disbelief smouldered in the pause, before it slammed the door shut and sent Lili’s nails digging into her palms.

“You’ll have your knees on my rug now, darling. Any other move and pop.”

She would have stayed frozen without the fire, it wasn’t the worst to sink down next to it, and most of her was pretty bare at the moment.

Lili held herself close, and still, but her eyes searched till she spied the iron poker just outwith her reach. It was a bit of hope.

“Now, I’m going to need you to answer at least one of my questions properly, or your evening will be much less pleasant than the rest of my guests.”

My rug. My guests. Oh no. “Who do you work for?”

“I was oh—” The shadow uncast itself and she was�� incredible. High-heeled boots fell away to a dark and silken affair that made sure to demonstrate every muscle on her.

Lili shuddered, and not only from base intimidation, as a clutch bag was plucked from her fingers. “—accompanying a gentleman, Mam. I work a shop, but… sometimes find myself needing the help.”

The lady pulled a high-cheek higher — stretching lips, painted like dark chocolate, into a grimace. She was perusing through the bag, tossing out six sizes of condom, a packet of makeup wipes, a small granola bar and—

“Hmm, lying.”

—the German-made subcombat was perhaps too much of an upgrade over the typical prostitute’s derringer. It was disarmed quickly and placed on the desk, far out of reach.

“Don’t tell me it’s for self-protection.”

Technically that wasn’t a question, so Lili kept silent. She looked again at the poker — that was closer, for now — but the lady could see her twitching in place. Ca-click.

“Bend over.”

Lili’s breath roared over the flames, hot and heavy with muffled panic.

“I told you, if you won’t tell me when I ask you, then you’ll tell me when I hurt you. Now bend the fuck over.”

Her head juddered, trying to stay up as she bent herself down. Suddenly, desperately, she pulled back up. “Wait! It’s— there’s a rival. But I can’t say more—”

A boot hoisted itself over Lili’s shoulder and stomped her into the carpet, sending her dress rising over her ass. “Because they’ll kill you?”

The sharpened heel dug into her shoulder blade. A smile from above watched as Lili chafed her cheek against the floor, nodding in awkward terror.

The heel pulled free so the lady might kneel down and draw Lili’s face up to hers, the other hand finding itself wrapped around the taught hem of her dress. “Darling, if that’s all you plan to say then I’m going to be the one killing you. And there’s a lot that could happen between when I would, and when they would."

She pulled, exposing terribly insubstantial lingerie and sending the thief sprawling into her own bosom, face blooming red as the thief attempted to withdraw.

“Back down, darling.”

Lili pressed her face against the rug, felt the heat licking at her nearly bare arse, not seeing the crop now resting in the lady’s hands. “It’s, respectfully, more complicated than that, Mam. They’re holding something that I rather need— AHhh.”

The pain was quick, sharp, and heavy. The only relief a better, if bitter, understanding for her present position.

“Continue.” That was just her testing Lili, enjoying her.

“She’s got a hold on all my— Ahh.” Lighter. Lili had slipped and not noticed. “—meds, she has my medication. AHHHh.” Harder, the lady’s twisted version of a reward.

“What kind?” Crop falling before Lili could speak again.

“EEek. Hormones, they’re hormones. I’m—” Lili felt it resting on her, waiting. “Fuck, Mam. I’m a tranny, okay?” She felt the pad drawn up her back, shivering as it slowly pulled away.

“Quite the blasphemous word for yourself, darling. And who is she?”

Lili couldn’t answer that, she couldn’t. If she wasn’t screwed already this would kill her for sure. The rug was stained by a few heated tears, but she hadn’t felt it come back down—

Thwack. The lady’s sympathies had harsh, impatient limits it seemed.

“YAAAHaha. Fuckin’ hells. It’s Coloski, Reb Coloski.”

Lili tried to peek up but was quickly shoved back down, crop pressing against her temple as the lady mused. “Fucking bitch. And how’d you end up stealing for her?”

“I was—” Lili breathed in, and out. It was too late to deal out half-truths. “I ran out of my meds, and they refused me anymore and I couldn’t go back, okay? So, worked the few connections I had, Mam, and I guess it— worked its way up the chain.”

The lady eyed Reb’s thief, her thief now. Every family traded in debts but Coloski always loved to play with vulnerability.

“And now you don’t get any more — until a job is done?”

“No, I— Ahh.”

Not that she didn’t love it also, but this kind was insulting — and not for her to play with.

“Straighten up, darling. Pull those legs apart for me.” Even if the dress wasn’t hiked it wouldn’t have helped now.

Her cock pressed against the ungenerous mesh at her front, the lady brushing her crop against it, drawing it along her thigh, begging to drive out more answers. Or perhaps just a few more squeals.

“She make you do anything else?”

“I’ve had to do things for jobs, Mam, but not for her— Eeeh.” It stinged much more here. The lady need only swipe over, not under, and leave Lili with little padding to save her. “But, she promised she’d help me — Ahh — promised I’d be out of her debt for this job."

“She set you up.”

Lili shivered and blinked, looked at her with dumb shock. A quick smack was enough to squeal her back to her senses. “Eeee-ahh. W-What do you mean?”

“She’s done it before.” The lady nodded her head to the side. “How much do you know about the Victorinos?”

“Only that is their mansion. Boss went missing some years back but then in comes this woman, sister I think, and takes over in his stead. Not my place to ask why, Mam.”

She bent down, graced Lili’s lips for a terrifying moment. Her hair was composed into long, black waves, with a rather predominant nose imposing its own beauty on her face.

She looked in Lili’s eyes and purred.

“This woman.”

“M-m-m-miss Victorino?”

“Yes, darling?” This thief was all hers now. “Did you think I was another lost guest, like you?”

Lili tried, unsure of what she’d even say, to answer. “I— AHHHhh.” It was swift, and hard, and landed much closer to her centre than was bearable.

Vic — Miss Victoria Victorino — was talking now, and her thief needed to shush.

“Bitch sent you into Dante’s Inferno, where it would be quite undue on my reputation for anyone to walk out.”

She started padding the crop against Lili, who tensed at its rhythm and found herself blushing and hardening in response. “There’s a mutual agreement I think, if one meant to test me, to let me dispose of one of her more useless tools, from time to time.”

“Dispose?” THWACK. “YAAAaaah.”

“Kill.”

Vic narrowly missed the luridly pitched lace between Lili’s legs. On purpose — the threat brought her enough joy and there wasn’t quite such an evocative pain to draw from messy, jumbled parts.

Tears parted from the thief’s eyes. “Are you gonna?”

Vic sighed, giving Lili a soft, crooning show of sympathy. Laying the crop behind her and sinking down to Lili’s side, holding stiff as Vic’s arms wrapped around her.

“You’re still a thief, and a liar, and I can’t let you go— but—”

She grabbed Lili by the chin, squishing her cheeks and forcing her to look at a very, very particular cabinet, its contents exposed by crystal glass.

“—do you know what your prescription is?”

---

Lili was still scrambling herself back together as she hurried back to the lobby, pulling her dress the pitiful distance down she could. Miss Victorino was shortly behind her, and even if she tried to run first she’d have to get past—

“There you are, whore. What’re you doing?” Lili's gentleman had his fingers clutched viciously around the whole of her arm, pulling her against a dusty, velvet coat. “Waiting till I’m drunk so you can sneak off without doing what I paid you so damn much for?”

The cheapest bastards always expected the most for it. “N-no sir, but—”

“But nothing. I paid you. You fuckin’ belong to me—”

Lili could hear boots where the carpet ended. Feeling a far tighter grip work its way around her other arm, as the man began to stutter. “W-w-woah, hey! Boss Vic! Man!”

“This one’s mine now, Harv.” Lili saw his eyes widen, for a moment in annoyance, then in fear. He gave way as Vic pulled. “Tell the footman what she owes you, and the right amount. You’ll get double that for your trouble.”

“Of course, ‘course Boss. I won’t forget to—”

“Now. And don’t fucking harass the staff on the way out.” He scrambled, and at least wasn’t Lili’s problem anymore.

Vic groaned in frustration. “And, he in on it?”

Lili was too close to look up, so just shook her head. This part wasn’t a lie. Coloski gave her medication, but Lili still needed the money. And she couldn’t be blamed for a double booking when it’s what got her in here.

“Shame. He calls me man again and he’ll be wishing it was merely treachery. Now, about you– hmm.”

Vic’s closeness was having a certain effect on Lili. She belonged to Vic now, her mind familiar with an ecstatic mote of what that meant.

But whether it was better or worse than Reb, it wasn’t good — the humiliating delirium that fear held over her was clearly visible to Vic. And, to everyone else in view.

Vic pulled Lili close to her chest, running fingers through her hair, bestowing a dignity though only so she could make her lose it again later.

“I think I've entertained enough guests for tonight, you however have scarcely begun.”

---

(Masterpost)

originally written on cohost 10/12/2023, in response to Make Up A Criminal's prompt:

Mob Boss who looks a lot different than they used to

[askthechronoverse]

Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

The two kids approached a red and green shack that looked like a small house and felt like it was both there forever and a fly by night sight. The bushes and trees held galaxies of colored and white lights and a sign indicated that an S. Claus resided there. Kevin told her to stay back as he headed for the door and was greeted by a teenager in an elf costume. As Kevin spoke to her, Kit watched the people walking on the square. She fought back the intrusive thoughts that this was a wild goose chase and a waste of time. Kevin said he would help her and maybe stopping the bad guys in the van was key to revealing the foundation element. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Kevin calling her name. He was now next to a large man in a long dark jacket. Under that jacket was an outfit of velvet red. His beard was long and white. She rushed over to them and gasped. He was talking to Santa Claus! Kevin has one heck of a hookup!

“Kit, can you tell this guy what you're looking for? This is my guy. He works for Santa.” Kevin pointed to the man, who was checking his watch. Kit's mind ran through what she needed quickly, but one wish rose to the surface and locked itself into being.

“I… I just want my dad back. I know that's selfish. I know I don't deserve it. I just want him back.” Kit was barely able to choke out the words, despite saying them the whole journey like an incantation. The man dressed as Santa looked completely taken off guard, brows now burrowing into the middle of his face.

“Well… Hang on. We ran out of candy canes because of some kids who took too many, but everyone who sees Santa gets… something.” As he dug through his pockets, Kevin protested. The Santa waved him off and pulled out a box of mints. “Hold out your paws, kids.” He took Kevin's mittened hand, then Kit's and tapped a total of three cylinder shaped mints into their palms. “Don't spoil your dinners.” The two said they wouldn't and left the Santa behind.

“That was a really good idea, Kevin! Santa should be able to help us.” Kit was fighting her emotions at this point, struggling to stay emotionally stable.

“Yeah, thanks! I'm surprised you didn't ask for your special thing. Would your dad help you find it?” The two walked past the chapel and were greeted by the sound of children singing. Kevin stopped to listen and turned to walk in. He gestured for her to follow and Kit ran in after him, wondering if the lady in black was still there. She didn't have to wonder for long.

“Hello again, child!“ The nun beamed as she tapped Kit's shoulder. “I was hoping to see you again. Did you find your special object?” Kit shook her head. “I would still be happy to help. What are you looking for?”

“It's just… old and magical. I don't know.” Kit's shoulders dropped. The woman frowned, but not for long.

“I don't know about old, but what you might call magic might be different to different people. There's a kind of magic in everything. That's what my father told me. There's magic in cold lemonade on a warm summer day and even in the singing of our children's choir.” She waved widely to the children singing in the large room in front of them. “The feeling of helping others is a kind of magic as well, a powerful one.”

“Is it magic to do something good for… selfish reasons?” Kit watched the choir sing, amazed by how coordinated everything was.

“What are the reasons?” The woman asked, disarmingly calm.

“I'm trying to find the special thing to get my dad back. He's gone and-” Kit began to cry a little. The woman offered her a tissue, which she took.

“I'm sorry for your loss, child. Losing someone you love isn't something that most adults know how to handle sometimes. Surely, if this special thing was important to your father, it makes sense you want to have it to keep him close. What was important to your father?”

“Um… our home. He always says that he fought to keep our home safe. And our family? His friends?” She spoke between sobs.

“Those are the things you want to keep close. Your father left a bit of himself in all of those things. Even now that he is no longer with you, he's still there.” The nun nodded as Kit let the idea sink in. “Wanting someone you lost isn't selfish, but honoring their memory is a better way to live.”

“So, it's OK for me to want to do stuff for him?”

“You wouldn't be doing it for him. You would be doing it because of him.” Her face lit up as Kit's did, excited by her realization. “Do you understand?” Kit nodded. “Good. I know that what I provided isn't physical. But I hope it helped.” Kevin tapped Kit's shoulder as he passed. “Looks like your friend is ready to go. Merry Christmas, child.” The church bells had started ringing at this point, sounding out that it was 8:00. Kevin grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the cathedral.

“We have an hour.” She said as the two ran to Kevin's house. “Do you have a plan?” Kevin nodded, the two sliding into his lawn and through the back door. He quickly whipped out a crayon drawn map of his house that childishly proclaimed that it was his battle plan. They outlined where certain pitfalls could be placed from Christmas ornaments to… fire? Heavy cans? Kevin meant business.

“I… I don't know about some of these. Are we trying to hurt them?”

“They'll be fine.” There was a slight inking of uncertainty in Kevin's voice, but Kit wasn't going to push any further. Maybe people from this world were just more resilient? “You can put down the ornaments, feathers, and the Micro Machines. I'll take care of the rest.” Kevin walked off and came back with pillows and a box full of round ornaments and tiny vehicles. “Just follow the battle plan. We can take them on together.” He held out his hand and Kit took it. They shook hands and went their separate ways to set their traps.

It wasn't long before their work was done. Kevin waited at the side entrance while Kit waited in the treehouse. She waited for her cue as she watched the burglars try to break into the house and be foiled by Kevin’s ingenuity. She kept her focus, but once the bandits had gotten into the house, her mind went to the words of the woman in black. Do things because of her father, not for him. The words sank in her mind like cold air on a warm day. Both her fathers were brave and noble, despite the things they've done. RJ turned his whole life around to help people with the technology he stole and Richard did everything in his power to protect the whole kingdom from harm, even though hiding the history of said kingdom was terrible.

Save the multiverse because of them, not for them.

Would they even be proud of her at the end of the journey? Would they ever even know what she did? She supposed these were the same thoughts going through Kevin's mind. She had more evidence than her partner in crime that the answer to the second question was probably no. If anything, she'd probably be grounded for leaving her aunt and uncle's house. Did that matter? She supposed not.

The sound of grunting from outside grabbed Kit's attention. She grabbed a pair of hedge trimmers and flew to the entrance of the treehouse. As Kevin had predicted, the bandits were climbing on a rope to her hideout. The bald bandit, whose cap was now burnt at the top, gasped.

“There's two of them! Marv, turn around!” The words barely left his lips before the two scrambled to get back to where they came from.

“Sorry guys. I didn't agree to the flamethrowers. You really shouldn't be breaking into somebody's house, you know.” She struggled with her task, but eventually the line connecting the house to the treehouse was cut in two. The bandits swung on the rope and into the side of the house. Kit cringed. Would they be OK? She knew they were the bad guys, but that still looked like it hurt. She watched the bandits scramble to their feet and follow Kevin to a house nearby. Kit saw an intimidating looking man leave his house with a shovel. She leaned out the window of the treehouse and waved to get the man's attention. He looked from her to the house and the bandits’ retreating backs and nodded. She then ran to the house to call the police. The sound of sirens signaled to her that this was all over.

As the police took the bandits away, Kevin returned to her. “Are your parents going to get mad at you?”

“The cops say that they'll explain it to my parents when they get home. I just need to call them and tell them.” Kevin rubbed his head. “Thanks for your help. I'm sure they would have gotten away without you.”

“I don't think I really did that much, Kevin.” Kit admitted. “You did all the brave stuff. I just cut a cord and called for help.”

“That was still really helpful.” He looked at the icy stairs and sighed. “We probably should clean all this up.” Kit nodded and got to work helping Kevin clean, working long into the night until the two collapsed into sleep.

Kit woke up later that morning, awoke to the sound of a loud ruckus in the house. She trotted down the stairs and was met with a flood of other people. At the center of it all was Kevin and the red-haired woman from the photo. Kevin waved for her to come over as the woman looked at the girl very confused.

“And it looks like you invited a friend. I'm glad you weren't totally alone?” Kit nodded, a little bit intimidated on how large Kevin's family truly was. “Do you want me to call your parents? I'm sure they want you home for Christmas day. “

“I'm sure they want me home period. I still have something I need to do before I go though.” Kit turned to leave. She barely got out the door before Kevin stopped her.

“Hey, wait!” She turned around, seeing that Kevin had something in his hands. “I wanted to give you something.” He held an antique bronze star tree topper. “I know this is our tree star and you probably have your own but… I hope you find your dad. Your wish needs to come true too. “ She took the star and it finally clicked. The power that she felt when she was decorating the tree with Kevin was from this. Maybe her wish was being granted after all. She placed the star into her messenger bag and sighed softly.

“Thank you, Kevin. I'm glad you got your family back.” She started to head toward town. As she got out of Kevin's sight, she fell through a portal that had opened underneath her.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Part of stolen radioactive material found in São Paulo

Police in São Paulo have recovered a part of radioactive material stolen on June 30, in the east of Brazil’s biggest city. Last week, the National Nuclear Energy Commission (CNEN), affiliated with the Science and Technology Ministry, issued a public alert following the theft, warning that the improper handling of the stolen material could pose significant health risks.

According to Medical Armazenagem Logística e Distribuição Ltda, the radioactive material was separated into five clearly marked lead cylinders and was stored inside a company pickup truck parked outside an employee’s home, in the São Paulo neighborhood of São Mateus.

The recovered material was found on Saturday in a battery shop in a nearby neighborhood. The establishment was isolated and radiation levels were tested, but the locale was found to be safe. One of the storage cylinders had been located a day before at a chop shop, where stolen cars are dismantled to be sold for parts. The clandestine business was also tested extensively for high levels of radiation, but was deemed safe.

Continue reading.

[phoenixyfriend]

@jewishdainix commented on this post:

The thing is, israel must be dismantaled because it is built on xenophobia, nationalism and subjeugation of palestinians. I agree with you on the worry of jewish safety, but that needs to be done by fostering and building communities of both nations of people, where both are welcome and safe, not by keeping an opressive colonialist state with no interest in equality or peace in power.

And Im saying this as a jew who lives in occupied palestine, btw. I know co-existing eont come out of nowhere, but it can be built.

(New post because the original is very long.)

Thank you for commenting! Most of the commentary I'm getting seems to be from people who are as removed from the conflict as I am.

I think a major factor in the discussion that stemmed from my initial response to the first "r u pro Palestine" question was that I was... well, very tired and not running on all cylinders, for one, but also in an intersection of Tumblr that sees a lot of half-baked political reblogs where people just... share things they either don't know ANYTHING about or don't realize how much is our isn't propaganda.

I am not immune to propaganda, especially the subtler kind, as evidenced by my having to adjust my understanding of the Yemen situation.

But the thing is that like... that intersection means I've seen a LOT of takes that are extreme (like Hamas and the Houthis being entirely right about Israel and how to handle it, or that even the children in Israel, by virtue of being Israeli, are guilty) as well as a lot of people who are supporting extreme solutions without really thinking things through?

Like, the majority of the people I see talking about Dismantling Israel seem to be in favor of doing so quickly and without regard to what happens to the people there, Because They're The Bad Guys, or because they just don't realize that this is the sort of thing that takes time and management to do safely.

Like... when I see so many people parroting things with an underlying tone of hate and malice towards even the civilians, it makes me concerned that any expression of support for a position like "dismantle Israel" will be taken as support by both "do so slowly and responsibly with an aim towards integration and safety for all" AND the "boot out all the jews" sides, because when the first question is only four words, I can't also answer in only four words, because political slogans are never JUST what they actually mean.

That said, the discussion over the past few days definitely has me sympathizing more with the Dismantle argument, but I do wonder about how it would be enforced, and by whom. Like, the Israeli government has made it pretty clear they have no interest in ceasefire, let alone a dismantling, so... does the UN get involved? NATO? Is the US sent in to undo Israel, the way they're trying to undo things like the Houthi government (as I've been told they're functionally the government of 70% of Yemen)? What gives us people of the world the right to choose interventionism in Israel but not Yemen or Iran?

Just cutting US aid from Israel opens the doors to Hamas and Houthi and associated groups "managing" the dismantling, which is the situation I expressed so much concern over in the previous post, so that's not an option. It looks like we do need the UN to be involved if that goal of Dismantling to build something new is possible, but that's interventionism, which is bad because it violates self-determination, except when it's not bad because there's mass murder happening, except when it's still bad even though the mass murder already happened, and...

IDK

It's so complicated and I WANT to believe there's a solution but the political philosophy and practical implications are kind of. A necessary consideration even when the ethics are clear cut.

[gwendolyn-of-loxley]

Tali'Zorah had gained weight, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

As she stared into the mirror, she recalled her slimmer figure that she'd had for most of her life, and with it, the pangs of hunger. On the Flotilla, food sanitation was too big of a contamination risk, so the diets of every quarian consisted largely of vegan nutrient paste. It was not filling, and it was far from exciting. It was not impossible to safely decontaminate an actual dish, but logistically, it was too taxing en masse.

When Rannoch was recolonized, the geth were instrumental in helping acclimate the quarian populace to various pathogens, and in establishing stable crop yields. The quarians could chew again. They could cook. They could feast. And as a result, many visibly gained weight, including the Admiral of Domestic Engineering. And she didn't know how to feel.

Billboards, ad cylinders, commercials, especially those made on Earth and Palaven, seemed to worship weight-loss. Tali wasn't exactly a fan of these companies, but the exposure was wearing her down. Turning, she took note of her softer belly and wider torso. She very much had what humans called "love handles." Additionally, her arms were less taught, and her thighs and calves had thickened. Her face had even become that much rounder.

Was she too heavy? Was it unattractive? Was--

Tali's musings were interrupted when the bedroom door opened. Turning around, her gaze met John's. His body shone with sweat; he must have been working in the garden again.

Almost as soon as he saw her, he smiled. Tali loved that smile. It was earnest, and kind, and always, always full of love. Without thinking much, the quarian strode toward him, closing the distance and hugging him tightly. She didn't care that he stank a little, or that his body was stiflingly hot in the cool air of the room. She loved the way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her. It wasn't any less since they'd first gotten together, and that's how she knew that her weight was meaningless.

On the subject of weight, John had gained some of his own over the years, and she was far from complaining. His belly and triceps had put on some looser material, the definition of his muscles (which he still very much had) becoming somewhat obscured. Having been surrounded by pipes, circuits, metal walls, and tight suits her whole life, Tali was grateful to have soft, organic tissue to snuggle. If anything, their accumulated pounds were indicative of peacetime, of rest they had earned.

John quickly returned the hug, giving a gentle kiss to the top of his wife's head. "I appreciate the hug, but you're awfully quiet. Everything okay?"

"Everything is perfect," she replied. She pulled away just enough to look at him. "Although, my husband just covered me in dirt and sweat. It would be incredibly irresponsible of him not to let me shower with him."

John smirked, and in a swift motion, quickly picked up his wife in a bridal hold. "I think I can oblige."

[stories-of-the-nrm]

The Fallen King

The Flying Scotsman rolls into the station at the end of a busy day.

Scott: Ahhh. Another successful non-stop run. The A3s will run this railway for years to come.

His driver, William winces.

William: I wouldn't say that, Scott. I've heard some rumors that Sir Nigel Gresley is set to put his latest design, the A4 into service next month.

Scott uncharacteristically splutters and turns red with annoyance.

Scott: This is preposterous! Have I not proven my worth to Sir Nigel Gresley? I can't just be replaced as if I haven't been operating this incredible service to the railway for over 10 years.

William: Shhh. Steady old boy. Just because the design is meant to provide high speed passenger rides, doesn't mean you will be replaced.

Scott: I sure hope so, William.

Time Skip

One day in 1938, Sir Nigel Gresley appeared at the sheds.

Nigel: Good morning, Scotsman.

Scott: Good morning, Sir.

Nigel: I know you've been feeling down about being replaced, but I bring good news. You are being seen as a role model by the A4s. In fact, I want you to take me to the Doncaster Works. There's an engine I want you to meet.

Scott sighs. He knows he shouldn't be so jealous, but he thought he would have his record at least a little longer.

Scott: Yes sir.

The Flying Scotsman takes Sir Nigel Gresley to the Doncaster Works. An engine freshly painted painted garter blue sits on the rails faceless.

Nigel: Now in just a minute, my latest modification of the A4 will wake up. I believe if this works, this engine will once again be a credit to the railway. In fact, as you have been the only engine in recent British history to do so, I want you to mentor this engine. Streamlining by design will make an engine fast, but it takes great skill to manage such high speeds.

Scott: Oh. Well it's an honor, sir.

Scott means what he says, but it's still bittersweet. To him it hurts to have to be responsible for training his own replacement. Being demoted from the Flying Scotsman services was quite a blow.

?: Hello?

Nigel: Ah yes. Welcome to the world young engine. I am your designer, Sir Nigel Gresley. Due to my fondness of birds, I decided to name you Mallard.

Mallard: Mallard, sir?

Nigel: Indeed. The Mallard is one of the most famous birds in the world. Due to the modification I added starting with your design, I highly believe you will become one of the most famous engines.

Mallard: My goodness. Thank you sir!

Sir Nigel Gresley chuckles. He walks over to the Flying Scotsman.

Nigel: This is one of my most famous engines, the Flying Scotsman, known for being the first official engine to reach 100 mph. He will act as your mentor regarding how to handle high speeds. We value fast, safe, and reliable service on this railway. Is that clear?

Mallard: Oh yes sir! Thank you for giving me a mentor.

Nigel: Well I'll just leave you two alone then. There's a lot of work to be done.

Scott sighs. It's not at all Mallard's fault that he feels this way. Given the circumstances, the least he can do is make Mallard as reliable as himself.

Time Skip

Mallard: Scotsman, why am I being asked to pull a train like this just to test my brake?

Scott: This is meant to simulate pulling a real train. The men added a dynamometer car to measure your speed and other elements of your performance.

Mallard: So it was just like my tests before I pulled my first passenger train.

Scott: Indeed. Only this time, the hope is that you will be fit to break the speed record. Should the bearing on your middle cylinder overheat even with the modifications, it would mean more work is to be done. We don't want you hurting yourself just to break a speed record.

Mallard contemplates this. He doesn't want to let anyone down. Especially if it's because of something he can't control.

Mallard: I understand.

Jospeh: Alright, Mallard. It's time to start our journey.

Mallard: Very well then, driver.

Mallard rolls out into the distance. Something about the day makes Scott only dread his worse fear is about to become a reality.

Time Skip

Crowd: He's done! Mallard broke the speed record!

Scott solemnly closed his eyes. Even though he isn't old by any means, this news made him feel as if he's aged.

Gordon: Why the long face, brother?

Scott: I feel as if my time to shine's ended before it truly ever began.

Gordon: Oh don't tell me that you're jealous of Mallard.

Scott looks at Gordon. He shakes his head knowing jealous isn't at all the correct term.

Scott: This is not at all Mallard's fault. He's simply doing what he's told like any young engine would. It isn't as if I didn't know my speed record would be broken one day.

Gordon: So why are you upset?

Scott: I wish I was able to have that to my name a while longer. To be allowed the chance to live out my prime as the best of the best. I would be willing to accept being replaced should it be well over 50 years of service and I'm no longer reliable. But to be replaced this soon.... I just didn't expect it.

Gordon: At the end of the day this is a business. What's best for the business is to ensure our passengers have fast, safe, and reliable rides. By mentoring Mallard, you are ensuring that guarantee. That is being a really useful engine. Like I said before, get some perspective Scott.

Scott shuts his eyes sighing again. If only there was a way to explain that Gordon is right but he should still be allowed to his feelings.

Scott: I only hope that Mallard doesn't meet the same fate as me. Falling from grace for things that is not at all your fault is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. No one should ever have to worry about facing the cutter's torch.

Gordon: Indeed, Scott. Indeed.

AN: Thank you anon for requesting this. I didn't realize that the real life A4s did in fact replace the Flying Scotsman until I started learning about the history a little bit more.

Tagging: @nelllia, @gordon208, @jayde-jots, @mintydeluxes-blog, and @engineer-gunzelpunk.

[grimmwolfcrafts]

Good morning! Feels weird to be posting this early. Guess I was more tired than I thought.

Smells like roach traps but it dries hard and doesn't chip off. It's easy to shave and sand so I think I'll be using similar for the time being.

The cylinder fits good enough but I'm gonna fill in some of the gaps at the top and bottom of the housing. Also I noticed that when I glued the two halves of the gun back together, it's kinda crooked. I'll try to save it. Also I started shaping the groves on the handle. It feels pretty good but can be improved

Lastly I started on those... Decorative lines? Stability reinforcement struts? The things on the bottom of the barrels. I freehanded the lines just to see what I was working with.

Also just in case you were wondering. I'm gonna do a pass over at the end to smooth out the cracks and chips and such. It's the most tedious part and I wanna have everything done and finished before I start to clean things up as I know it will take forever.

Thanks for reading, hope you have a wonderful day today. Be safe and see you later!

[dzthenerd490]

File: Pikmin - Water Wraith

SCP#: AJT

Code Name: Second Piece of the [data expunged]

Object Class: Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AJT remains where contained at Site-AA within one of the Keter Storage Units in the lower levels. Only Site Director James, Administrative Staff, and AFA-3 units to the design of Site Director James command are allowed in this level.

The remains of SCP-AJT are stored in a frequency isolation box that is placed inside a safe with a Cavafy Reality Concealment Engine to prevent anyone who is not within the Foundation from comprehending its existence. Only Site Director James and anyone she has approved is capable of comprehending its existence with a specialized drug that only lasts for 5 hours. Anyone not on her personal list that has this drug in their system is to be executed, there will be no exceptions.

Description: SCP-AJT at the time of activation was a strange blob-like monster that took on the form of a short and bald humanoid. However, it originally did not stand like a humanoid but instead placed its arms and legs at the ends of two cylinder-like stones. It seemingly uses these stones specifically to crush tiny creatures. What makes SCP-AJT even more anomalous is that despite being physical, it seems to be connected to another reality. Anyone in our reality can see, hear, and interact with it but none of our scanning technology is able to detect its existence. Not even a Hume level scanner can detect its presence. How this is possible is not well understood. 

Though it is believed to be related to its connection to the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council], which is an Entity of Interest recently labeled as a Level 5 Threat. SCP-AJT was confirmed to be related to this entity when it was discovered to have great hostility to SCP-AEK. A notable trait to all entities related to the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] is their small size and great hostility towards SPC-AEK. 

SCP-AEK was discovered in 2004 after Site Director James took the SCP-AEK instances out for training. She took them to an area where there was an abundance of SCP-AEW-Alpha and Omega instances reported. She went there with a personal MTF security guard that seemed unnecessary but was insisted on by the O5 Council. Her SCP-AEK instances successfully managed to kill all the SCP-AEK instances however suddenly from the water SCP-AJT appeared and nearly wiped out the SCP-AEK instances due to no one paying attention and their scanners not going off. Shockingly all Site Director James had to do was stomp a lot and SCP-AJT was quickly weakened long enough for her security to take the cylinder stones SCP-AJT rolled on. Afterwards her SCP-AEK instances were able to easily kill what remained.

“Okay I know that was anticlimactic but let me remind you we have evidence that the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] exists and destroyed the world at least once. It started off weak but because everyone ignored it, it became something too big to handle. So I don’t care what anyone says, I’m not underestimating this thing or any of the anomalies it creates and if you guys do then your all, fucking idiots! Sorry, got a little too into it there, but seriously, I don’t know what the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] is yet, but I WILL destroy it even if it turns out to be just an angry screaming water drop.” -Site Director James.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[hirocimacruiser]

SUBARU DOMINGO

1200 4WD/1000 2WD

The compact body is easy to drive around town, and the interior is bigger than you'd imagine, seating seven people. The versatile ultra-variable seats also provide a lot of creative space. What's more, the powerful and economical 1.2 engine is equipped with Subaru's original free-running full-time 4WD. You can enjoy easy and safe driving on highways and regular roads, as well as on rainy and snowy roads. Just by getting in and driving, you can feel as if you're going to a different and fun world from usual, with the mysterious charm of the "BOX Domingo."

It's full of mysterious charm. 7-seater 1BOX, 1.2 (full-time 4WD).

PHOTO: 4WD GX Sunset Gray/Avenue Silver 2-tone metallic

It's sturdy enough to handle any road or season. It's the freedom of urban adventurers.

The in-line 3-cylinder 1.2-liter OHC engine with balancer shaft is capable of handling long distance touring with ease.

All models are equipped with a quiet, smooth-revving 3-cylinder engine with a balancer shaft. The 4WD model has an increased displacement of 1.2 liters, enhancing power and torque.

This resulted in ease of handling and tenacity not only in urban areas but also in 4WD fields. In addition, the engine is mounted at the rear of the body, providing a spacious interior and achieving exceptional quietness.

●Maximum output (net) = 52ps/4800rpm

Maximum torque: 9.7kg-m/3200rpm

Subaru's unique free-running full-time 4WD.

Subaru's unique, highly efficient mechanism. Normally, the vehicle runs in direct-coupled 4WD mode, maximizing the benefits of 4WD. The one-way clutch temporarily separates the front and rear wheels from each other to smoothly overcome the tight corner braking phenomenon that occurs when turning the steering wheel sharply at extremely low speeds.

CREATIVE SPACE

Seats seven. Ultra-variable seats that can be transformed in any way.

The seven-seater Domingo is more fun than ever. With the rotating front seats (GX, GV, CV) and the foldable second seat, you can create more fun than you can imagine.

A special version fully equipped.

The Domingo comes in two special models: GS Special (1.2-liter full-time 4WD) and CS Special (1.0-liter 2WD).

Special equipment ● Front door armrest ● Front door pocket Second seat headrest Original fabric seat California Miller● Full wheel cap

DOMINGO

2WD CS Special

4WD GS Special

PHOTO: PHOTO Sunset Gray Metallic

[randomquadballpun]

DAY 39 (attempt no 7)

The first thing John spotted when Rosie and him entered the flat, was a strange blue metal cylinder on the couch table. It was loosely covered with a white lid but that did not stop some kind of white vapour to escape from it. Next to him, Rosie squealed in delight.

"Oh, Sherlock! Does that mean we can freeze vegetables and smash them with the hammer again?"

John ambled over to the table cautiously and warily lifted the lid. A wave of cold air wafted into his face. The inside of the container was silvery reflective and filled with a clear, bubbling liquid, a couple of small plastic tubes swimming within it. Spidery crystals of frost were covering the rim of the cylinder. "Smashing vegetables ... again?", he echoed quizzically.

"Liquid nitrogen", Sherlock piped up from the direction of the kitchen. He must have arrived only moments before them since he was still wearing his coat and scarf. "Can teach a lot about chemistry and physics." He gave Rosie a wink before he returned to browsing through the kitchen cupboards. "And on top of that, it is a lot of fun to handle."

John opened one of the living room windows a sliver, just to be safe, before picking up Rosie schoolbag from where she had dropped it onto the carpet in her haste. "Any specific reason you brought liquid nitrogen to the flat?"

Sherlock fished a small metal strainer from one of the kitchen drawers, picked up a pair of heavy gloves and returned to the living room with purpose. He used the strainer to fish two of the tubes out of the steaming liquid, presented them proudly and then dropped them back into the container. "I need the nitrogen to keep my bacteria frozen. Despite some initial resistance I managed to acquire a few vials of an alternative bacteria strain from an acquaintance of mine that owed me a couple of favours."

John stared down at the liquid nitrogen with a bit of trepidation now. "That sounds ominous, what exactly did you do?"

The other man just shrugged off-handedly. "It's alright. Zachary will get over it eventually."

"That did not make it sound any less ominous."

"Could we freeze and smash broccoli?"

John looked over just in time to watch as his daughter plundered the vegetable drawer of their fridge. "I was meaning to use that for dinner, you know?"

"All of it?", asked Sherlock, immediately adopting his most beseeching puppy dog expression. Behind them, Rosies face twisted in disgust at the mere thought of broccoli for dinner. John let out a defeated sigh.

"Could you leave at least half of it for cooking?" He pleaded.

Sherlock nodded eagerly while he shrugged out of his coat and carried the nitrogen over to the kitchen. John was pretty certain that he would be left with maybe a quarter of the vegetable, if not even less.

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

Troubleshooting, part 19/?

-> Another late upload because of life. Don't play with liquid nitrogen without safety precautions kids, it is really, really cold.

-> The next chapter can be found here!

-> Until then you can start reading this series at DAY 0 (tumblr/ao3) or read the previous snippet here.