#i think i was afraid of the chemicals in that thing and the fumes getting to me

[iiboronii]

organic chemistry will have you acting like you're invincible to various hazardous chemicals

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 3 - Zoro

Source for pic

Word Count: 3420

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

|Chapter 2 - Kid| / | Chapter 4 - Law |

Zoro:

You hear Kid’s truck leave in the middle of the morning, meaning he must've finished fixing the tractor and Shanks doesn't need him anymore. You text Nami and Robin in your girls’s group but both of them are busy today and you plan on meeting tomorrow at a new café they swear has the most amazing food ever and, somehow, they are dying for you to meet the owner. 

You still need to find a job, even if it's just a part-time job, since you plan on helping your father with the chores around the property, but it would be nice to start thinking about a semblance of a future. To be truthful, you don't really know how long you plan on staying in the Calm Belt, but at least for some months. It's not like you have that much going on in the city anymore. 

Anyway, you still have today's lunch to worry about, so you make some pasta with tomato sauce, some salad and take out a frozen garlic bread from the freezer to go with it. You're sure your dad is going to complain about the lack of meat on the plate, but if he's going to live with you, he better get used to eating less meat.

When all is ready, you go outside and ring the bell, like your mother used to do to you when you were a child and lost track of time while playing outside. Giggling, you let yourself get lost in the memories before your dad comes back. 

Except ten minutes pass and still no dad. “What the hell…?”

Making sure the stove is off and the pots have lids - these flying bugs and pests can be annoying - you step outside and look around the property. Where did he say he was? He mentioned he still needed to properly fix a large part of the fence since the wood was rotting. 

A weird coldness is settling about in your stomach as you take a deep breath and cup your hand over your eyes to shield them from the bright sun. “Where was the fence broken?” Your eyes follow the whole length of the fence, squinting and tearing up because of the brightness but, after a bit, you manage to locate your father's pickup truck. It's not that far. But there's no red-head in sight. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat along the feeling of dread that's starting to take residence in your chest and do a little sprint to where the truck is parked. “Dad?” You can't see him anywhere and, at this point, you're not sure if the acceleration in your breath is due to your little run or to the fact that you're starting to panic. “Dad!” You scream, your voice louder, squeakier and shakier. 

A muffled grunt grabs your attention and you look everywhere, trying to locate it. “Down here, bug.” Shanks’s voice is strained and tired and the dread in your chest keeps building up. 

“Daddy!” You whine as you turn around the truck and find him lying on the floor with the driver's door open. “What happened?” You kneel beside him but don't touch him, afraid to make things worse. 

“Ah, you see, bug,” he chuckles and groans at the same time, “it's just my back. Sometimes it gives out like this. But I'm fine!” The nonchalant tone of his voice has you fuming at the ears. 

“What do you mean?” You growl between your teeth. 

“It's just a jolt of sharp pain in my back. When it's this serious, I usually hop on to the clinic and the doc gives me a shot and all’s well that ends well.” He grins but your frown is undeterred. “I see you are not amused.”

“I'm calling an ambulance.”

“There's no need! Just drive me to the clinic. Help me up.”

“No! It might make it worse! Did you fall?” You take your phone out of your shorts’ back pocket and search for the number to the fire station because you know it's the fastest way to get an ambulance in this small town. 

“I didn't fall. My back gave out as I was climbing the truck and I lied down because it helps with the pain. Don't call an ambulance, just help me up.” He says your name sternly but you still don't budge, your finger hovering the green call button while your brows scrunch together in deep thought. 

“Bug, I'm fine, really. Let's not hog an ambulance. The town only got one and it might be needed.”

“Alright.” You put your phone back in your pocket. “I'm going to try and lift you up but if I can't, then I'll call for the ambulance and you can't whine like a baby!” Your finger is waving in the air and Shanks stifles a chuckle with another groan because, apparently, any movement hurts. 

You force a verbal agreement out of him before you position his arm over your shoulder and use all your strength to lift him up. Somehow he finds some semblance of strength in his legs and hoists himself into the back seat of the truck, lying down in a position that doesn't strain his back. 

“Okay, okay, you're fine. I'm fine. We're all fine.” You take deep breaths as you clean the dirt from your hands against your shorts. “I'm going to drive this baby up to the house to get our identification and my purse. Okay, dad?”

Shanks mumbles something against the seat since the best position for his back seems to be to lay on his stomach, and you sit in the driver's seat, having to adjust all the settings and the mirrors to suit your small height. 

“Oh, perfect.” You chuckle nervously. “It’s a shift stick. I have to drive with a stick.” You take three deep breaths as your father moans in the backseat.

“Bug, I taught you how to drive a stick! It's not that hard. You just-...”

Your body whips immediately to your father's slumped form and you manage to mutter between clenched teeth. “Dad, if you so much as mention a word about the way I'm driving from here to the clinic, I will either call an ambulance or drop you on the side of the road!”

Shanks chooses wisely and remains silent as you manage to, somehow, turn the pickup around to go back to the house for your stuff, screeching, halting and jerking all along the way, turning your father's moans into grunts of despair. 

“I can still call the ambulance!” You admonish him when you return from inside the house. 

“Let's just go, bug. Daddy needs some drugs for the pain.”

This time, you manage to get out of your driveway without much jerking and things seem to be going well as the road is clear of both obstacles and cars and the only thing weighing on your mind is how the hell you’re going to park the truck once you get into the clinic. 

Until you hit a giant pothole that came out of nowhere and blow a tire. 

“Aw, crap!” You curse as you stop the truck and pull over to the side. “Dad, are you hurt?”

“No more than before.” Comes his muffled reply though it does seem more strained. 

“Just stay there, I'll take care of this.” You assure him as you climb out of the car and ignore whatever he mumbles between his teeth. 

You know how to change tires. It was another thing your father taught you when you were a teenager but, like many things from your teenage years, it was something that was quickly stored away and disappeared alongside all the useless memories of your earlier years. 

So now you're screwed. 

You decide to start with small steps as you remove the spare tire from beneath the bed at the rear - just getting the thing out has you sweating bullets, but that's one part covered. You grab the jack from the back as well, and spend the better part of the next ten minutes finding the right place to slot the thing. 

“Dad, are you alright? I can still call the ambulance? Or do you want to call Ace or- …?” As you peek inside you discover Shanks is sound asleep in the backseat and you relax a bit. At least he's not in pain now so you can take your time. 

You rummage through the tools your dad has on the back of the truck at the same time as you find a tutorial online to help you through the process. You make quick work of taking the hubcap off and then the lug nuts, placing them on the driver's seat for safety. 

“Okay, okay, I got this!” You give yourself a pep talk but you should know that once you start to think you have everything under control, the universe throws you for a loop. So, as soon as you use the jack to lift the car up - with extreme difficulty, and, at this moment you have dirt, sweat and tears all over you - the tire escapes from under the truck because - you realise, much too late - you weren't supposed to remove the lugnuts before lifting the car. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You scream as you start running after the tire. The thing just picks up speed and you are already panicking because you've seen one too many videos of rogue tires and the destruction and mayhem they can cause and you do not have the money to pay for a veranda window, right now. 

Luckily, and you really don't know how, the tire hits an elevation and slows down to a full stop by the other side of the road. Lungs aching, head throbbing and chest heaving, you lunge forward and grasp your knees with both hands, trying to force some air back into your chest. But you don't even realise you're in the middle of the road until you hear tires screeching and a police car abruptly stopping in front of you. 

A squeal is all that escapes your lips as you fall to your knees and cover your head with your hands, face contorted into a pained grimace as realisation hits: you were almost run over by a police car. 

“Lady, what in the world are you doing in the middle of the road?”

The policeman gets out of the car and he is intimidating. Muscles all over, tall and an eye missing. You'd think you were in trouble if that mane of green-hair wasn't so familiar. 

“Zo-zo…” You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, your hands grasping at the dirt below you for some grounding. “Zoro! It's me.” You tell him your name between shaky breaths and notice how his frown is quickly replaced with a shocked expression. 

“No way!” He exhales your name with a light chuckle as you smile back at him and get up on shaky legs. “You're really back? Nami said you were returning but I didn't believe her. You haven't even come to visit once since you left so I really doubted you'd come back.”

A tiny blush spreads to your cheeks. He's right. You didn't even come visit your father nor your friends once. Shanks was always the one who went to Grand Line City. That's how fed up with country life you were. Once the nostalgia kicked in, however, you were far into your studies, and then into your career, and then into the asshole and the timing was never right. 

“Yup, I'm back.” You get up on shaky legs and brush the dust off of your shorts before flashing him a grin. “The uniform suits you!” Damn right it does. It fits in all the right places. He wasn't so fine when you went to school together and all he wanted to do was start a Kendo club at school. 

“Why are you in the middle of the road? I could've hit you with my car, woman.” He frowns. 

“My dad's car. We had a flat and I decided that I was smart and independent enough to change it on my own. I did things in the wrong order and the tire ran away from me.” You chuckle nervously as you point at the tire on the side of the road. 

“You must be joking.”

“I wish I was.” You reply deadpan. But this story is too wild to be an invention. 

“I'll help you with the tire before you start any more trouble.” A dry chuckle emerges from his lips. “Incredible how some things never change..”

He’s right. You’re the biggest klutz to exist and you seem to attract trouble no matter where you go. So you just laugh along with him.

As soon as he parks his car and retrieves the tire from the other side of the road, you both get to work, Zoro effortlessly taking charge of the situation with you awkwardly passing him some tools and him pretending you’re actually helping. 

“So, Troublemaker, what brings you back to town?” He asks casually as he tightens the last lug nut.

You shrug and sigh. “I-... well… life brought me back.”

He sets down the tool, wipes his hands on a rag and stares at you, deadpan. “Life brought you back? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Stuff happened, alright?”

“Stuff?”

Exhaling deeply you just decide to rip off the bandaid. “My fiancé cheated on me and I needed a change of pace!”

“I’m sorry about that.” He says as he sets the truck back down and stores the tools in the toolbox again. 

“It’s okay. I’m over it.” Liar. “Thanks for the help.” You gesture towards the truck and shake your head. “I can’t believe dad is still asleep.”

Zoro laughs as he helps you put away the flat tire and all the tools.

“So you plan on staying long?” He’s wiping the rest of the grime from his hands and watching you as you sigh and give him a lopsided grin. 

“For a while, yes. We'll see how long!”

Shrugging, you close the rear door and flash him another grin, ready to thank him again, but, somehow, you trip on your feet and stumble forward.

Zoro quickly steps up and catches you by the shoulders to steady you. “Easy there, Troublemaker. How uncoordinated are you?”

You can’t help but notice how warm and big his hands are as he steadies you. Letting out a nervous chuckle, you realise you are blushing. “Ah, well, you know me! I did not get better with the years.”

The way his eyes wander over you makes you feel hot and self-conscious at the same time. Zoro removes his hands from your shoulders as his smile widens into a grin. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

Is he flirting? You’re about to reply but as you try to walk, you trip again! Except this time you realise it’s because of the untied shoelace of your sneakers. Alas, the realisation doesn’t stop your tumble and it’s great that you’re still so close to Zoro because he catches you again, this time with his hands on your waist as you reach forward and claw at his chest.

At his muscular chest. 

“My God, again!? I swear I’m not usually this clumsy!” Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. What is it with this man that makes you trip all over the place?

You try to steady yourself but you’re still a bit wobbly on your feet because you might have sprained your ankle - though you’re not about to admit that - and his hands grip you tighter to steady you better.

“Careful there. Wouldn’t want you falling for me.”

Your breath catches in your throat as your heart somersaults in your chest. Yeah, he’s definitely flirting. Your face whips up as your nails grip the fabric of his uniform, eyes locking onto his and a playful smile on your lips. 

“Would that be so terrible?”

His thumb moves slowly against the bone of your hip and the air is suddenly charged with tension. 

“On the contrary…” You can't help but notice the way his voice deepens. 

“Bug?” Your dad moans, breaking the spell and forcing you two apart. Clearing your throat you bend down to tie your shoelace. 

“Coming, dad!”

“Hey, Mr. S!” Zoro approaches the window of the truck and greets him. “I see you’re about to hop onto the clinic again! It’s the second time this week already, right?”

Shanks started to tut, tut, tut, Zoro as soon as he started to speak but it was too late. You raise your head and open the truck door suddenly, almost hitting Zoro’s nose in the process.

“Again? Second time?” You squeal, burning holes into your father. “Explain, Shanks!” You know your father understands that you’re mad at him once you call him by his name. 

“I, uh, well, it’s, uh… hmm…” 

You raise your hand to stop his blabbering, noticing him flinch and sweat, meaning he’s in real pain and you should just get him to the clinic ASAP. “We’ll discuss this later. Lie back down!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He whimpers and does as you told him. Slamming the door you try to turn to say goodbye to Zoro but notice your top got stuck in the door and you can’t move an inch. 

“Oh, my God!” You whine burying your face in your hands as you hear Zoro’s guffaws in the background.

You don’t move for a second, trying to gather your breath and shake away the shame, so Zoro steps up and opens the door, freeing you in the process, wearing an unbearable smirk.

His arm brushes against your side as he unlocks the door and you can feel his breath against your ear, making you shiver but, either he didn't notice the close proximity, or, at least, he does nothing to acknowledge it and the moment passes. 

“What will happen to you when I’m not here to rescue you at every step of the way?” He crosses his arms and cocks his head to the side. “I’m genuinely surprised you managed to stay alive to see the age of 25. Statistically, and from what I’ve seen, you should be dead. Or terribly impaired.”

You snort before you realise that wasn’t sexy at all but you decide to just go with it as you close the door again. 

“I have no idea. Maybe you should just stick around me, in case I get into more trouble.”

“I might just do that.” He finishes with a shit-eating grin.

“Bye, Zoro, thank you for everything.” You wave and open the driver’s door to get to your seat. 

“Oh, wait.” He exclaims as you turn around to meet his gaze. He takes a step closer and, before you can react, he reaches out and brushes a lock of hair away from your face. His feather-light touch sends a jolt of warmth through you, settling in your chest.

“You had something…” He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as you look into the corner of your eyes to see a dried leaf on his fingers. 

The fingers that linger on your cheek for a moment while you’re both lost in each other’s gaze, but before you can say anything, a crackling sound emerges from Zoro’s police radio.

“Zoro, come in. We have a situation at the park. Need you to respond immediately.”

It’s amazing how Zoro’s soft expression suddenly turns hard and serious as he reaches for his walkie-talkie. “Copy that. I’ll be there ASAP.”

You take a deep breath and give him a smile. “Duty calls?”

“Yeah.” He grunts, his voice laced with regret. “Sorry. You’ll be okay for now?”

Chuckling and tucking the lock of stray hair behind your ear, you nod. “Just go and save the day, Officer Zoro.”

He laughs back at you and turns to return to his car. “Catch up later?”

“Definitely.” You answer him back as you climb into the driver’s seat. As his car whizzes past you you can’t help but smile again. Zoro changed. But then again, so have you. 

Maybe coming back home means more than healing wounds: yours and your father’s. Maybe it's about rediscovering lost connections. 

You shake your head and turn the engine on. 

You had absolutely zero intentions of getting mixed-up with another man, but it’s kind of hard to do that when one just caught you. Literally and figuratively.

[high-on-the-dying-sun]

My kinda lover

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!reader

words: 398

INBOX OPEN FOR REQUEST

Title inspired by: My kinda lover by  Billy Squier

“So tell us about this girlfriend?” ask’s the interview. Johnny plays it cool; he crosses his leg over his left knee. “Oh well what you want to know.” his voice has a soft southern twang to it as well as a pinch of nervousness. “Well how did you two meet? Is Y/N correct?” Johnny nods his head up and down. “Yes it is Y/N.” he pauses before continuing. “Are middle school science class… i was being stupid and she put me in my place. If you ask me it was love at first sight or fight.” he explains. The interviewer nods “you two differently go back quite some time!” 

“That is correct.” Johnny nods, tapping his foot against his knee. You two had known each other for the better part of 2 decades. You were probably the best thing that was to happen to him because of his dumb stunts. If he had never started to pour random chemicals in that science class he wouldn't have you. And he would probably have something wrong with him because of the chemical fumes. 

Johnny snaps back into reality. “She’s my kinda lover! She is just like me, just a lot more terrifying.” And it's the truth you would often play along with johnny's dumb jokes and pranks but if something or someone rubbed you the wrong way your switch would flip and you were most definitely not afraid of telling them. It's what he loved about you most; you were scared of nothing.

After 40 minutes or so the interview had finally concluded. That ment he could finally get back to you. To his lover.

As Johnny stepped into the house he quickly started to shed his shirt, finding the button down rather uncomfortable. He steps into the bedroom to see you still laying in bed. You look at him tiredly and wave to him. Johnny makes his way to the edge of the bed and climbs to you on his knees. 

“You know i was just talking about you.” he says as he flops down onto his back “probably only bad things.” she responded. Johnny laughs “no never… well sometimes but it's completely valid!” “how?” Johnny thinks for a moment. “Well the time you jumped into the shower with me dressed as the chick from the ring!” Y/N laughs at the memory. “Okay yeah that's fair.”

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

you're toxic, i'm slippin' under with a taste of a poison paradise

...

(i always jokingly call their ship 'my chemical romance', mostly bc of the fact that crane is awfully good at chemistry, among the other things. n' i do dearly love this aspect of their relationships. gotta adore how it's literally 'toxic' love, bc the fear toxin is a thing, n' they both end up sniffing it, every time they met. so it's less of poetic language here. it's just that they end up inhaling fumes n' havin' a bad trip. plain as day.

anyho', these arts are circling around the idea of what if at one point, crane dosed both of them on purpose. n' what if he did it as the scarecrow. or more so, when he was in mindset of the scarecrow.

btas crane n' old comic ones are usually depicted as sadists, who ironically are afraid of pain themselves. as jonathan is the sort of man, who is afraid to suffer / be hit / be picked on, bc it was his whole life. he knows how it feels n' he's dreading it. n' while it's cute, i was wondering about more crazy n' drastic measures, that crane might take, even if he knows that it would hurt him, but at same time, would grant him smth that he wants very-very badly. in this context, some 'discomfort' should be fine. n' i believe, that if he's 'out of it' or desperate enough, he might do it.

in this context, him using ft for smth dare i say kinky, isn't out of question. i often think' that crane might view his ft as a connecting link between himself n' batman. even if he doesn't know who batman is, the difference between them is evident. starting from the looks n' ending up with their personalities. but when batman is afraid, it's like jonathan bringing bruce to his level, isn't it? at that moment, they're the same. crane dosing them both is almost a power move. kind of harmful, bc crane cannot quickly overcome his own toxin like batman does. but still, it would take batman aback. give jonathan those 10 seconds of being the 'big bad' man in the room. but that's just a cherry on top. the main point of this is that jon can get away with smth, like a kiss or smth more, bc it would all be lost in horror soon enough. with this nearly an ultimatum in mind, he can waste those few moments *where he still udnerstands what's real n' what's not* to be bold.

i feel like btas crane will be a tad more modest about it still vs his more unhinged comic counterpart. but batman would be caught off guard, either way! i generally do enjoy the situations, where bruce is ruffled n' taken for a ride from time to time. he's very serious n' very prepared, n' all that, but it's fun to let jon score a win. even if it's small, it still would plague batman for days. his enemy dosed both of them, crawled into his laps, kissed him n' then just.....refused to explain himself. n' while it would be puzzling from bruce's pov. i love how it would have been the fear-included kiss for both of them, but jon would have been afraid of it *touching lips with him* even without ft, so this what makes it painfully appealing to me.

i stan by a hc that pleasure is generaly very hard concept for crane. n' he doesn't fully know what to do with it. or how to proceed. any fantasy, where things just nice n' not complicated feels untrue to him. he can't do what harley did n' just smooch the bat. he's not a pretty gal or even someone, who has any skills in that area. more so, the mere idea about how the bat might be willing to do smth with him, outside of being low-key cornered into it or lured into, is beoynd him. which is pretty sad, but it just feels kinda....like, well, jon, haha. i can't picture him as someone, who can overlook his self-hatred n' disgust this easily. but causing smth, when controled by fear n' despair for having that one thing he's pinning for, now this would sound realistic to him.

as for bruce, he can take his revenge by simply kissing crane back. n' also explain nothing. i imagine, that when it happens, crane's brain will freeze. it's like an instant defeat.)

[asexual-spongebob]

Wail Of The Siren - Chapter 9 - Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Notes:

ah yes, Gaz and Dib arguing… oh god… I’ve honestly been a little afraid to post this one- I hope this is decent, I’ve never thought of angst as my strong suit so hopefully I did okay.

“Anyway, I should get going- I’ll see you later though.” Tak said, “Alright, love you.” Gaz replied, giving Tak a kiss on the neck.

Tak then walked in Dib’s direction, oh shit! Dib thought, she’s going to see me if I stay here!

Dib then quietly ran over to the front of the store, so Tak wouldn’t notice him.

Dib stood there awkwardly, pretending as if nothing was wrong as he watched Tak walk back to her base. 

Dib  rapidly walked to back near the dumpster and the back of the building. He could still see Gaz standing there in the distance.

“Gaz. What the fuck.” Dib snapped. 

Gaz turned to face her sibling, she noticed their eyes were burning with fury. 

Gaz stared at them, “What the hell are you doing here?!” She demanded. 

“The better question is what the hell were you doing with Tak?!” Dib demanded back, “Why were you being all loving dovey with her?!” They add.

“Mew’s my girlfriend!? Of course I’m going to be lovey dovey with mew!” Gaz retorted. 

“Mew’s your girlfriend?!” Dib gasped, “Yeah?! Why did you think we were holding hands and being affectionate with each other?!” Gaz retorted. 

“I thought you were just platonically holding hands! Like Tenn and Skoodge do!” Dib spat. 

“Okay I see your point.” Gaz admitted. 

Dib ignored his sister and continued.

“What if she hurts you?!” Dib winced.

“She won’t! And if she does, I know exactly what to do.”  Gaz insisted. 

“Why do you always have bad things to say about mew. You always talk shit about mew and I’m sick of it.” Gaz snarled. 

“What?” Dib muttered, a bit confused. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about Dib.” Gaz retorted with clenched teeth. 

“You want to know something?! You’re a fucking hypocrite!” Gaz snapped. 

“I am n-“ Dib tried to say, but Gaz interrupted him before he could finished his sentence.

“YOU ARE.” She screeched, shutting him up. 

Dib’s eyes widened. 

Gaz started to towards him, making him back towards the brick wall. 

“You get all pissy at me for hanging out with Tak, and now you’re getting pissy about the fact she’s my girlfriend. Yet the same thing happened with you and Zim.” She fumed, her eyes wide open, sparkling with fury.

Dib’s pupils dilated of fear, he started shaking like a leaf. 

Gaz stepped closer, making Dib take a step back.

She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“You bitch about me dating “the girl who tried to destroy the planet”. Yet you are all lovey dovey and kissy wissy with Zim. You know, the person who also tried to destroy the planet so multiple times. Not to mention tried to get us killed multiple times.” Gaz shouted.

Dib was now up against the wall. 

His fear started to fade away, it began to turn into rage. 

It began to boil inside him like a pot of water boiling aggressively on a stove top. 

The pot had boiled over. Dib could not contain his rage any longer. 

Dib punched her in the nose.

“Oh. I’m sorry for giving a shit about you! I’m sorry for saving your ass all those times I-“ they snapped, soon being cut off.

Blood dripped down Gaz’s chin as her eyes shimmered with rage. “Saving my ass?! If anyone’s ass was getting saved, it was your’s!!” Gaz spat. 

Dib ignored what their sister had just said and continued.

“I’m sorry for trying to be a good sibling!” Dib continued on. 

“Good sibling?! What kind of sibling drags their little sister into shit?! What “good sibling” does that?!” Gaz fumed, a few blood droplets splattering onto her My Chemical Romance shirt, thankfully it was hard to see, as the shirt was black.

“What do you mean by that?!” Dib demanded.

“What do you mean by that?” What kind of question is that?! You know damn well what I’m talking about.” Gaz raged.

“Shut up. SHUT UP.” Dib spat.

“You want to know something? I had to be “Dad” when Dad couldn’t! I had to put you to bed! I had to make you dinner! I had to put up with you being annoying! I had to play dolls with you!” He began furiously. 

“I WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD! AND TAKING OF YOU! I could’ve been playing on the playground or something. But you want to know what I was doing instead?! I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY SIX YEAR OLD SISTER. I WAS TRYING TO BE A GOOD BROTHER. AND NOW YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS?!” Dib continued, his throat beginning to hurt from all the shouting.

“STOP ACTING LIKE YOUR THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS EFFECTED BY DAD NOT BEING ABLE TO CARE FOR US!!” Gaz shouted.

“YOU KNOW WHAT?! I’M DONE WITH THIS CONVERSATION!” Dib shouted back, “I’m going to the beach.” He spat.

“GOOD. I HOPE YOU GET SWEPT AWAY BY A CURRENT YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” Gaz called out as Dib left. 

You know. You might as well get swept away by a current. Just like Gaz said. It’s not like she’ll care or anything…. Dib mused. 

Dib ran as fast as his legs could carry him, Keef and Meef were heading back from a fishing trip.

Keef noticed Dib ran by, Dib stopped to catch his breath.

“Where are you heading to?” 

“The beach. Tell Zim that I’ll be gone for a bit.”

“Oh.. okay?”

“Also. If you see Gaz, tell her that she’s a fucking bitch.”

“Oh… okay?”

Dib then broke off into a run, headed towards the beach.

Dib panted after making his way to the pier, the sea was foaming like a bottle of beer. 

Dib took a sip from a water bottle that he had stashed in his coat pocket. Dib let out a refreshed sigh. 

He then headed towards the docks, glancing around to see if there were any fishermen. 

The coast was clear. They were fine. No one was there. 

They dove into the water, feeling that sharp, agonizing pain in their body, they glanced down at their hands, their hands were no longer covered in human skin, but rather, they were covered in green scales. 

Dib swam towards the strong rip current up ahead.  He then felt a strong and powerful force trap him. 

Dib began to shake, frantically looking in every direction. 

He was in the rip current. There was no escape.

He could feel himself drift away as he thrashed around in the current, being thrown around in every direction. 

“DIIIB!! NOOOO!!!” Gaz called out in protest, swimming closer in attempt to reach Dib. 

“But you said you wanted me to get swept away by a current?” Dib called out, confused, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t mean that! I’m  sorry!” Gaz apologized genuinely.

“Well it’s too late!!!” Dib snapped.

Gaz tried to grab onto her sibling’s webbed and scaly hand trying her hardest to free them from the current’s wrath.

She thrashed through the deep, dark water, trying to free her brother, she then was able to grab onto his hand.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that! You were right to call me out! I’m sorry for punching you!” Dib apologized, “It’s okay!!! I understand that you were just concerned!!” Gaz replied, “I’m sorry to! I shouldn’t have said those things to you!” she adds. 

“No! I’m glad you did!” Dib said. 

She let out a grunt as she tried to pull him out, but this rip current was stronger. 

She had let go. 

“GAAAZ!!!!” Dib wailed as the strong current swept him away.

“DIIIIB!!!!” Gaz shouted as she tried to grasp her brother’s hand.

But… she couldn’t.

“GAAAZ!!!” Dib screamed, his screaming getting fainter and fainter the further he drifted away. 

Her brother was gone. Fucking gone. 

Normally, she wouldn’t care, but this time, she did.

What kind of sister are you?! She scolded herself as she tried to hold back tears. 

I need to do something… I should tell someone. She decided, swimming up to the surface. 

She dried herself off with a towel and left, knots in her stomach.

Gaz made her way back home, her shoulders slumped in shame.

How am I going to get him back? Gaz asked herself. 

You’re a terrible sister. This is all your fault. She told herself.

Gaz made her way to the tide pool and dried herself off, cleaning her bloody nose, waiting for the bleeding to stop. Her clothes were still damp but not as much. She rinsed the salt water off herself with some water she had stashed in a water bottle. 

Once she was mostly dry, she made her way home, How am I supposed to explain this to Dad?! How would he feel… 

Gaz could just imagine the lecture she’d receive. She knew that she’d be grounded for ages. 

Gazlene Membrane! How could you say that to your brother?! 

Gaz let out sigh, I deserve that. I deserve to be lectured like that. She told herself once again as she made her way through the dark streets of Detroit. The street lights leading the way.

She noticed Keef and Meef walking on the sidewalk.

“Hey um. Sorry if this sounds weird but Dib told me to tell you that you’re a fricking betch.. I have no idea why..”

“He’s right… I am… and I’m a terrible sister.”

“What? What makes you say that?”

“I told him to go get swept away by a current… and he did… all because of this argument we got into..”

“Betch what the frick?” 

“Yeah I know I shouldn’t have.. I was just really angry.. we both apologized to each other though. If my Dad and Clembrane find out they’re going to go ballistic on me-“

“Oh um.. that’s good? Anyway I gotta go to Zim’s house. See you later.”

Gaz and Keef then went their separate ways, Gaz walked the rest of the way home. 

Gaz made it, opening the front door, only to see her Dad glancing over at her from his chair near the front door.

“Hello daughter, where have you been?” He asked “Uh… I went to the mall with Tak and Tenn.” Gaz lied “Oh cool! Hope you had fun.” He smiled “I did.” Gaz replied.

“Where’s your sibling?” Professor Membrane asked “Oh uh… their at Zim’s.” Gaz lied. 

God I hate this. She thought, normally she would be fine with lying to someone, but her Dad was the expectation. She hated lying to him about anything.

No… he can’t know the truth… At least not right now… Gaz thought.

Professor Membrane just nodded and continued to read the marine biology book he was reading. 

Gaz then made her way upstairs, locking herself in her room and sitting on the floor, staring at her collection of Littlest Pet Shops. 

•••

Keef knocked on the door to Zim’s house.

Skoodge answered.

“Hi Keef.” He smiled, but then noticed the expression on Keef’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Skoodge asked.

“Something happened to Dib… that’s why I came here.” Keef answered.

“Oh.. oh my irk!” Skoodge exclaimed, then letting Keef come in the house.

“Hi Zim..” Keef sighed with a frown as he looked at him, he was sitting on the couch with Gir and Sir.

Zim was caught off guard. Something was up.

Keef wasn’t happy and cheerful like they usually were, now they seemed sad and gloomy.

“Hi Keef.” Zim said.

“Um… Dib’s gone.” Keef murmured.

“He’s gone?!” Zim gasped out of disbelief.

“Yeah… Them and Gaz got into a fight and she told them to go get swept away by a current… and they were.” Keef began, “she feels really bad about it now… and we have no idea where Dib is now.” Keef finished.

Zim felt his squeedily spooch shatter into little pieces. “D-Dib’s g-gone?” Zim stammered out of disbelief, starting to tear up. Keef nodded with a frown.

Zim flopped off the couch and onto the floor, beginning to sniffle before bursting into tears. 

Skoodge and Keef kneeled on floor, trying to soothe Zim. 

“It’s okay Zim! We’ll figure out a solution!” Keef assured, gently stroking Zim’s back.

“MY BELOVED DIB STINK! MY DIB FISH!!! THEIR GONE!!!” Zim wailed hysterically, smashing his fist against the floor, ignoring what Keef had just said. 

“I love them so much!!! Even if they smell like tuna and anchovies!” Zim croaked.

Keef looked at Skoodge. “What should we do?” Keef questioned “I think you should get home.. I’ll deal with it.” Skoodge assured with a thumbs up.

Keef nodded and left, awkwardly saying goodbye to Skoodge and Zim. 

Skoodge hugged Zim. “I’m sorry…” he sympathized, Zim whimpered and sobbed into his shirt.

“My Dib siren!” Zim cried.

•••

Professor Membrane was out running some errands, Gaz was in her room, the home phone in her hands. 

Gaz dialed Tak’s number, her hands shaking the entire time, she grasped her favorite kitten lps, Violeta for comfort. It was a purple and white one with green eyes, number 2033.

Soon, Tak picked up.

“Hi love!! How are you?”

“Not to good… I did something… bad…horrible..” 

“Oh irk- what did you do?”

“Dib’s gone… and it’s all my fault…”

“What happened?”

“We got into an argument, and I went a little too hard on him- I told him to go get swept away by a current and well… He did. I feel absolutely horrible now… and Keef told me that Zim is depressed now.. He said that it keeps crying and it keeps talking about how much it misses Dib.. I think they said that xyr base is now littered with garbage..”

“Damn.. hopefully we can get him back…” 

“Yeah… we need to. Or my Dad and Clembrane are going to go ballistic on me..”

“I’d tell them if I were you. Explaining the fact that you’re both siren’s may be a bit difficult but, I think they might know how to get Dib back.”

“Alright thanks love, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Bye.” 

Gaz hung up and crawled into bed, shaking anxiously, hoping she’d soon drift off to sleep.

No crying. You’re not a baby anymore.. She told herself, trying her best to hold back her tears. 

She hadn’t cried in months, it was something she always shunned herself for. 

Gaz couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

Gaz smashed her face into her pillow, sobbing violently. Professor Membrane and Clembrane were coming upstairs to check on Gaz, all they could hear was the sound of her violent and aggressive sobbing.

The two were taken aback, it was rare for them to hear Gaz cry. 

“I’ll ask her if she’s okay.” Professor Membrane decided, knocking on the door. 

Gaz continued to sob, ridiculing herself in the process, What is wrong with you?! Why are you like this?!but then, she was alarmed by a knock at her door.

“Gazlene, is something wrong?” She heard Professor Membrane ask. 

“Yeah is somethin’ wrong? We heard you cryin’” Clembrane adds. 

“Nothing! Just go away!” Gaz shouted nasally, with a sniffle as she lifted her head up from her pillow, then looking down at her hands.

She was caught off guard. They were webbed and covered in purple scales.

Tears could trigger a siren transformation.

Goddamn. Just what I needed. Gaz thought sarcastically as tears rolled down her face.

Outside her door, Professor Membrane and Clembrane glanced at each other. 

“I hope everything is okay…” Clembrane frowned, Professor Membrane nodded, 

“If you need us we’ll be downstairs!” Professor Membrane said, him and Clembrane then heading back downstairs. 

•••

Tenn, Skoodge and Keef walked around City Center mall, Tenn was scanning the area for T.E.S, while Skoodge and Keef munched on some soft pretzels.

Tenn glanced at the two. 

“How have guys been?” Tenn asked.

“Fine.. Zim hasn’t though-“ Skoodge answered.

“Oh irk- what happened?” Tenn pressed.

“Dib and Gaz got into a fight and Dib was swept away by a current.. Gaz really needs to find a way to get Dib back. Or her parents are going to be mad.” Keef answered.

“Oh damn- hopefully she can get him back.” Tenn said.

“Yeah, the problem is, is that we don’t know where that current took Dib. So he could be anywhere.” Skoodge pointed out.

“So he could be all the way in Australia?” Keef replied.

“Maybe. Who knows- I think it’s more likely that he’s in Wisconsin or Canada though- I mean. We are south of Canada.” Skoodge said, Keef and Tenn nodded, then heading over to T.E.S, still wondering how Gaz was going to get Dib back.

End Notes:

So Uh- i decided to insert one of my hcs into this. Specifically Dib having the responsibility of taking care of Gaz at a young age and basically having to be “parent”. I notice that tends to happen with older siblings. So I figured that Dib might have some trauma related to that.

Can’t believe this is the second to last update holy shit-

[qob-vrisk]

Finally, I can please you with a small continuation of my story (within the framework of the canonical setting). I attach a text version of the dialogues so that everyone can read the comic using a translator.

Special thanks for the help with the translation @bubblesthemonsterartist 💜

1 Lilias. The second laboratory. 1.1. - The properties of this plant are simply amazing! 1.2. Yes, but I didn't expect that I would have to work with it in a mask all the time. Do you really think that it is not safe to breathe? Is it dangerous? 1.3. - No, I don't think so. But when we found it, Obi was yawning all the time. The smell alone made me sleepy, too. I think after chemical treatment this property will only grow, so we won't take any chances - It seems that this could make a good sleeping pill - Yes. Although I'm more interested in its analgesic properties. Perhaps frosty meriem be used as a strong anesthetic.

2.1. - These fumes make my eyes water. Do you mind if I open the windows? - Yes, of course! I wanted to suggest the same thing. - Tell me if it gets cold. Then we'll close it. 2.2. [40 minutes later] - Putting on glasses was a great idea. My eyes don't water anymore. 2.3. - Miss, why are all your windows open? Aren't you afraid of catching a cold? Or that some uninvited guest will jump in the window? 2.4. Wait a minute... what is that smell?

3.1. Smack 3.2. - AH! OBI! - Oh! 3.3. - Obi! Obi. What happened?! - I don't know. It was like I was knocked out for a moment. My head hurts. - Of course it hurts! You hit the floor with it! It is urgent that you get out into the fresh air! 3.4. - Concentrated exposure causes fainting. Uh-huh. So we'll write that down.

4 - I looked at the scar on your forehead and it seems to me that it's not the first time you hit the floor with your forehead! - If Lata sees me with this plaster on my head, he will laugh. - Well, put on your hat! Cover your forehead with a bandage! And your ears! Ears should always be kept warm, otherwise you'll catch a cold! - ...

❄  ❄  ❄

To learn about how Obi and Shirayuki found frosty meriem, you can read here:

Part 1 - https://qob-vrisk.tumblr.com/post/614786433120649216/part-1-part-2

Part 2 - https://qob-vrisk.tumblr.com/post/614786484026884096/part-2-part-1-frosty-meriem-is-a-special

[nikadoesanart]

Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

[vincentbriggs]

Seeing as you're incredibly knowledgeable regarding all things textile-related, might I ask if you have any tips for dyeing a long cotton dress? I bought a late 1790s/early1800s daydress off another customer and it's a horrible shade of fuchsia instead of red as they claimed. The dress is otherwise very nice, but that colour is an eyesore. That's why I want to dye it a darker red, but am a little afraid to mess it up, thus ruining the dress for good. I would be incredibly thankful for any tips!

Well I am definitely not knowledgeable about all the things, but I do have some experience dyeing, and my mother teaches it, so I can give some advice!

1. Soak it in water before dyeing it. If you put dry fabric into a dye bath it's much more likely to come out uneven, with little light patches where the dye/water took longer to get to the fabric. But if you've got the fabric all thoroughly wet first then when you put it in the dye bath it'll soak in quickly and evenly. When we dyed wool roving in college we first let it soak in big buckets of cold water with just a tiny drop of dish soap to break the surface tension.

2. Frequent stirring is important! The fabric needs to keep moving around to get the most even colour, sitting still for too long can give you dark patches, especially if you're dyeing it in a pot on a heat source. (But I never use a heat source when using fibre reactive dyes.) When I'm dyeing something in a bit tub I just sit there with a pair of tongs and swoosh it around and turn it over frequently until the required amount of time has passed.

3. Take precautions to avoid touching or breathing in dye. I don't know what kind of dye you've got, but it's best to be careful with chemical dyes. They're not something that'll poising you instantly or anything like that, but long term exposure is bad, so masks and gloves are good. In college we always had to be under a huge fume hood when weighing out the dye powders, and laid down a big sheet of newsprint sprayed with water first, so stray particles in the air would stick to the wet paper. You also want to make sure the powder is thoroughly mixed into the water, because little lumps of un-dissoled dye will also cause unevenness. There's also a very strict rule about not using the same dishes for dyeing and food. The dyeing spoons and pots and measuring cups are only for dye! We used the PRO MX fibre reactive stuff (for plant fibres, and usually for silk. We used acid dyes too but they only work on animal fibres) and weighed out & mixed up the dye activator and some other chemicals separately to add to the water, and I have no experience with the stuff the fabric and craft stores sell so I don't know how it compares.

I'd add pictures of my dye instruction sheets but they're at my parents house.

I've seen some people on the internet use fibre reactive dyes in a pot on the stove, but I think that's weird, and have only ever used acid and natural dyes on the stove. For fibre reactive ones I mix it up in a big plastic storage bin (which is never used for food, so it's fine, and I wash it out after and it can go back to storing books or yarn or whatever) and use room temperature or warmish water.

Unfortunately red is the worst colour for dye bleeding, and it might be worthwhile to get a little bottle of dyeset concentrate to help encourage it to not do that when you're rinsing it after.

Ordinarily I would also say "samples are good, always do samples!" but when you're overdyeing a garment that's already a dark colour and presumably don't have any spare scraps that's not really an option.

I hope this was helpful! I'm worried it might have come off sounding a bit overcomplicated and scary, but as I said I don't know what the normal dyes from the store are like compared to what we did in Textiles.

Good luck!!

[hellbenderr]

hiiiii matt!!!! do you mind if i ask you a froggy question?

i'm just wondering what you've found to be the best way to sanitize the inside of the enclosure and any sundries inside? i've heard that microwaving can be good but my plants are fake and so i found that they have. metal in them. while attempting that. ^____^

obvs i don't wanna use/haven't been using anything with chemicals cuz they're so sensitive, but i just get nervous that there might be bacteria that could make my little friend sick :( is just rinsing stuff in water and giving it a plain scrub sufficient? advice for cleaning fake plants seems to be a vinegar solution which i'm pretty sure could straight up kill my baby so i'm not doing that :(

i saw a post on a frog forum that was like "yeah you can do the vinegar solution or use mild dish soap it's fine" but idk if i really believe that ó~ò

any advice would be appreciated!

btw he's doing really well! i've got him in a nice big enclosure a while ago, and he tong feeds very well, the only problem being he gets so excited he falls down from biting so hard sometimes???????? i was so surprised, i don't think he's even afraid of me anymore it's very funny he just seems irritated if i have to move him like um. excuse me. i was sitting in that spot for 18 hours straight thank you very much 🤨

Yeah so, when sanitizing the inside of an enclosure or anything in it you want to take the froggy out so it's not exposed to the cleaning products. Vinegar is ok but not the best at disinfecting. I would google "disinfectants for reptiles" and choose whatever you have available.

Generally when I disinfect, I spray the cleaning product on the surface, wait 5 or so minutes, and then rinse it off with either deionized water or spring water. You need to make sure there are no cleaning products left on any surfaces because, while the products recommended by other amphibian owners are generally less dangerous than other chemicals, they can still harm your frog. Cleaning the glass of the enclosure is usually kind of difficult for this reason, which is why you should have a separate place for your frog to stay while you clean. Also make sure that there is ventilation because you don't want any chemical fumes left over.

So you're kind of right, washing stuff with water is good, but it can't be your only disinfecting process; it's not killing any bacteria. You need some disinfectant.

Anyway, getting overexcited about feeding sounds exactly like my shy frog, lol. He'll flip himself over trying to grab the cricket from the tongs.

Also, you didn't ask about this, but other things you should be thinking of are whether your frog is getting all of his needs met. He's a diurnal species, right? So he needs UVB if you haven't already got it, and a temperature gradient that reflects what he would experience naturally. Dusting feeders with vitamin/calcium powers regularly is important too, since his diet isn't as varied as it would be naturally.

Also, and I'm sure you know this, but the frog forums are generally ok... As long as you take what advice they have with a grain of salt. People keep their pets in weird ways. I would make sure to note when the post was made, because the quality of husbandry for herps has gotten better with time.

Let me know if you have any other questions :)

[tenmillionwhumperflies]

Cloudwalker Series Part 6

Alright, 6 and 7 are ready to post, so I’m getting there, slowly. Thank you everyone for the support so far. I really do appreciate it and it really keeps me going.

Master-list Here

Approx WC: 1600

Avizon struggled to hide his wince, the pain in his arm from the bite and the apprehension at feeling the burning in his arm starting to fade away into a tingle as he left Ihuka in the dungeon. He was fuming with anger, so startled at the fact Ihuka had it in him to snap, to bite him with a venom that would easily kill under the right conditions, and all for a cloudwalker he'd just met too. 

Surrender was not within Ihuka's psyche, yet. He'd be punished for this. Avizon was determined to knock that resilience out of him- if the bite didn’t kill him first. That damned venom acted as a partial paralytic, and painkiller, a way for cloudwalkers to grab their prey, bite down and fly high into the sky to drop their prey while it was powerless in their hands. It was a highly sought after chemical for various reasons, one of several elements of these cloudwalkers he intended to harvest.

When Avizon returned to the throne room where he'd left Dyan. It was a grand room, with luxurious floors that were hidden beneath dirt and chandeliers and art that was heavy with dust. He intended to get both his new purchases working soon, Dyan especially, but for now that would have to wait.

Avizon found that Dyan really hadn't moved. He hadn't even turned around or adjusted how he sat. He was frozen stiff with fear.

"F.Follow," Avizon ordered.

Dyan jumped and yelped at the sudden noise that came from behind him.

"Hurry up!" Avizon snapped as he started towards his laboratory. He needed to hurry. He didn't know how potent Ihuka's venom would be, what effects it would have on him considering he was a youngster.

He stumbled just as he got to the lab, through the old desolate tunnels and stairways made of large blocks of dark stone in need of attention that Avizon couldn’t afford to give. The whole castle was in need of repair, but that took magic, magic he didn’t have, yet. He was struggling to think clearly. He had to lean against the wall. The paralytic compound in the venom was taking effect already. He needed a remedy before he was defenceless against the two cloudwalkers or worse, dying. He rushed to the workbench with Dyan following in fear. He was struggling to lift his shaking hands, he stumbled before he could get to what he needed.

"M… master?" Dyan whispered. “C.can… Can I help?”

"G.get the… the…" Avizon groaned, his words were slow and slurring. He needed to get the remedy. He forced himself onwards, to the right drawer, and Dyan dared to offer an arm with his head held low. Avizon took it to steady himself until he could reach the glass vial on the bench. He’d already been making an experimental batch of antidote for cloudwalker venom, but he hadn’t really tested it. He’d planned to find an enemy and try it but now he didn’t get that option.

He gulped, and drank down the liquid quickly while his throat was still working. He groaned and fell to the floor, his back pressed against the bench. Everything was spinning and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He focused on his breathing, feeling sweat drip down his face.

Dyan looked at him with concern from where he knelt, looking small, weak, and perfectly precious, but he still needed to be punished- at least once his world wasn’t spinning anymore. Avizon groaned again. “Can I help you more, master?” Dyan asked quietly.

“G.get… bandages. B.bring the… the box,” he panted. This was getting harder and harder. Dyan might have seemed broken, but if he was sure he had a chance…

Dyan rushed away, collecting a box from the bench that had said bandages in, but also ointments and salves. Avison struggled to get his shirt off and reveal the wounds underneath. They were small, almost human-sized teeth marks, but far sharper, and the canine teeth had naturally gone deeper. Blood dripped freely.

Avizon rummaged around the box and took out the right ointment for Dyan to use, not seeing how Dyan stared at the scars on his body. He could barely grip it now with his injured arm. It did seem that Ihuka’s venom was weaker, perhaps due to his age since he’d go after smaller prey. Dyan opened the glass container and swallowed hard. He started to apply it, though with great uncertainty, over Avizon’s wound, being too afraid to press down hard and make it stick to the skin straight away. Avizon groaned and struggled not to move away from his touch.

Dyan seemed to know what he was doing, at least a little. He applied the medicines and then waited for the all-clear to wrap it with bandages. Once Avizon nodded, he raced to get it done. Avizon could only sit and try to stay stony-faced. Dyan still seemed terrified of him.

“T.take… me… b.bed,” he murmured. Dyan took a deep breath before he offered an arm, and once Avizon took it, he was able to move and take more of his weight, almost all of it in fact. Dyan struggled, panting hard as he helped his master to his room. Avizon could feel the fear radiating off him.

Avizon dropped down onto his bed with a feeble groan. Everything was slowing down, and he felt it was getting harder and harder to move, to breathe. Dyan moved his legs onto the mattress and backed away, waiting for more instructions. “G.go to your room...” Avizon barely managed before he finally drifted off into sleep, hopefully a sign that his antidote was in fact working...

_____

Dyan went straight to his bedroom and didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate to open the door, close it behind him and take off his clothes. He didn’t deserve nice clothes. He had been bad, He’d been given such wonderful things and he’d been disrespectful. It had been an instinct to protect Ihuka, but perhaps it was an instinct he should have controlled. Now they were both in trouble.

Dyan gulped. He didn’t know what to do. Was he allowed in bed? Did he deserve it? No, he didn’t, but did his master want him there? Did he want him to sleep? He didn’t know, and so he sat on the floor, staring at the door in apprehension. He’d endured this a few times with his old master, being told to wait and then finding out he’d fallen asleep. He could do this, he had to.

Ten hours passed, according to the little clock on the mantlepiece. Ten hours of barely moving, of waiting for his master. He’d cried so many times while waiting for his master to come and collect him after being bitten, and Dyan could only hope that the sorrow didn’t show too badly on his face. It had left his exhausted though, and he desperately wanted to sleep. He hoped Avizon wasn’t dead.

Avizon sighed when he opened the door and Dyan sat up a little straighter, with dark circles under his eyes and a trembling lip. He swallowed hard, seeing a cane in Avizon’s hand.

“You… didn’t sleep last night?” Avizon asked. Dyan lowered his head. “I… I didn’t have permission? I was bad, master. so...” “You are always allowed to sleep in your bed, Dyan, unless I tell you otherwise.”

Dyan’s shoulders slumped with exhaustion and the disappointment of making another mistake. “Yes, master. I'm sorry.”

Avizon looked down at the cane in his hands. “You are not in trouble for misunderstanding. However, there is, of course, one thing. You disregarded your place, you tried to argue with me and my decisions.”

“I understand, master. I should not have tried to defend Ihuka where I was not permitted to.” “Correct. Hold out your hands, palm up.”

Dyan did so with a soft sniffle.

Avizon held the cane with a firm hand. “Since you were a great help, I have lessened your punishment... This time. But move your hands, and I will whip you more. Seven lashes, and your punishment will be complete.”

Dyan nodded silently and took a deep breath.

Avizon brought the cane down before Dyan was ready. He yelped and his hand moved out of the way. He looked up at Avizon without a word, saw him raise an eyebrow and returned his hand while gritting his teeth. He didn't move for the next two following strikes, but after that his shoulders hitched with the pain as he tried not to cry out, but the seventh and final strike was enough to make him screech. His hand shook with the pain, the sheer burning of the impacts on his soft skin. Still he didn’t pull away.

"You'll do well to remember that, although I am fair, you will not abuse the generosities I give you which I can, and will, so easily take away."

"Yes, master," he whispered. "Please forgive me. It won't happen again." "I should think not." Dyan looked up at him with teary eyes. "M.master?" "Yes, little bird?" "Are. Are you feeling better? From last night?"

Avizon couldn't help but let a smile tug at his lip. That was not a question he was expecting. "Yes… thank you. You did well last night and I do appreciate it. For that," Avizon waved his hand and conjured a plate of cooked meat he had left waiting in the kitchens. "Eat. And get some rest on the bed. You look tired. I repeat what I said before: you may always sleep on that bed, unless I directly tell you otherwise."

Dyan's mouth watered at the sight. "Yes, master. Thank you."

Avizon passed the plate down to him and watched as he ate, wincing as he moved his sore reddened hands and pushed the chunks of meat into his mouth. Chewing slowly and savouring it. 

Avizon nodded and patted his head. "Good bird. I'll be back later once I deal with Ihuka." Dyan opened his mouth to speak, but he bit his lip and thought better of it. Avizon noticed, he stared hard, but Dyan had made the right decision on his own. “Yes, master.“

At least one of them could learn.

[akutagawasbitch]

Memories: Chapter one

Hey guys here's chapter one of my OC sorry! I hope you enjoy. As always feedback is greatly appreciated ❤️

It was a normal night for Yukiche, and everything was running smoothly. No bloody mafioso in sight. After she had cleaned up all the blood and water, the mafioso left after threatening her. He left after telling her that he “owed her a favour” which didn’t feel particularly reassuring. But she didn’t have time to reflect on the events of that night. She had to focus. Three other girls were working tonight alongside her to help keep things running smoothly and guests entertained. Akiko was on waitressing tonight, her dark brown hair tied back in a simple bun, Enya was alongside her on bar helping get through the millions of drink orders and Aimi was on the bar as well but taking orders. Things had gotten a lot easier since she had hired the three girls to help out. Before she struggled to get through a shift in one piece, running herself ragged. Taking orders, making orders, serving orders all while keeping guests entertained was draining the life out of her. The only thing she did was work and sleep but now she had more time on her hands, giving her the freedom to take days off if she needed to.

Besides the girls helped out her other side business: blackmailing the wealthy businessmen who came into her bar. If they ever tried to finance any competition or try pull any stunts, she had entire folders of secrets that she could spill and ruin their lives. That’s what kept her afloat, not the sales but her extensive knowledge of all the dirty gossip around Yokohama alongside with evidence. She could use to destroy the entire business world of Yokohama if she wanted to, but she had no interest in that. All she wanted was the bar to stay open so she could pay back Haru. She didn’t care about gaining wealth or status. She just wanted to live life well and to the fullest.

“I need to get another shipment” Yukiche thought to herself, looking behind her at the rows of alcohol. She was running low on pretty much everything, tonight was so busy thus wiping out her entire supply. Turning around she was about to call Akiko over when she saw something that made her see red.

One of the businessmen grabbed Akiko and was trying to grope her ass.

“That fucker.” She hissed, fuming.

He was easily 40s with balding hair and a greasy slimy look to him. A human equivalent of a cockroach. She smiled and waved to him, catching his eye. Yukiche made sure to learn over and cross her arms so he got a view, enticing him to come over. He blinks and she winks at him, beckoning him over with her finger, smiling. He walks over all smug and she just wants to break his jaw and wipe that arrogant smile off his face. He arrives at the bar.

“What’s up gorgeous? Are you wanting to buy this handsome devil a drink hm? Or maybe get to “know” each other a little better after hours hm?” he yelled in what he perceived as a “seductive” tone. In reality it was creepy, and he sounded like he swallowed a hive of bees with how raspy his voice was.

She smiles sweetly and says “I saw you trying to grab my waitress’s ass. If you ever pull that shit again, I will break your jaw. Now get the fuck out of my bar you deplorable cretin of a being.”

The man looks shocked and insulted. “Who the fuck do you think you are to speak to me like that? Fuck you bitch, I’m not going anywhere. Besides she was asking for it, wearing a skirt that short. She’s practically flashing everyone.”

Yukiche sighed, she picked up a bottle and started to clean it. Holding it up to the light she inspected it and smashed it over the man’s head. The glass shattered everywhere, some of it getting into his head and face. She grabbed the top of his balding head and smashed it into the bar top.

“Oh, my apologies. You were practically asking for it, you see?” she commented, smiling sweetly. His face was an absolute bloody mess.

“You fucking psycho! You broke my fucking nose!” he screamed at her.

“Ah well, you’re lucky. I was hoping to break a lot more than that. Now I suggest you get out before I break your legs.” She sneered, leaning over the bar to look at him. “Now run along little boy, I’m sure your wife is anxiously awaiting you so she can fake it for 5 minutes.” The entire bar started laughing.

“You fucking bitch, you’ll regret this. I will ruin your life.” He spat out, standing up and pointing a fat finger at Yukiche.

“I’m not your wife so no… my life isn’t ruined but have fun trying!” she waved to him as he stormed out. Sighing, she signalled to Aimi to clean up the blood while she went and personally apologised to all the customers for the disturbance.

 It had been a few weeks since the incident at the bar, but business hadn’t dropped. More and more businessmen were coming and bringing along potential clients to enjoy the drinks and the atmosphere. While she enjoyed busy nights more than slow nights, it did mean Yukiche hadn’t had a day off in weeks. All her other co-workers took days off and she had to cover their shifts herself which sucked but she didn’t mind. They needed to have a break once and awhile. Besides she was planning on taking a two-week trip soon anyways, so she didn’t mind.

It was after the bar had closed, and she was finishing cleaning up the bar top. Spilled drinks meant the bar top would get insanely sticky throughout the night and if she didn’t clean it, she could probably catch flies with it.  Sighing, she scrubbed at the sticky stains vigorously, swearing to herself.

“Fucking assholes, I hate this shit” she muttered to herself, continuing scrubbing at the stain aggressively. Suddenly the door flew off the handle across the room, crashing into the wall. The light bulb shatters as the door flies through it, plunging the room into darkness. Yukiche whips around to have her shoulder stabbed by a glowing red black tendril. She screams out in pain, her eyes watering as blood began to drip onto the floor. Panting she dives under the bar, grabbing her cleaning rag and pressing it against her wound. Hissing in pain from the chemicals reacting to her skin, she tries to quieten her breathing. Her heart was pounding in her ears, making it hard to hear anything but she listened out the best she could for any noise. Footsteps walked in, along with someone coughing. Swallowing she grabs the gun hidden under the bar and loads it as quietly as she can.

Her hands shaking as she holds the gun, her breathing shallow. She listens out for any sounds but hears nothing. She has the advantage here. She knows the bar like the back of her hand, she knows how sound echoes off the walls so any sound she hears she’ll be able to pinpoint the location in theory.

*cough cough*

She hears the coughing again and tries to focus to work out where its coming from. She can’t. She’s in too much pain and panic is setting in. “Fuck” she thought. She was trapped.

“Death is inevitable. It is a part of life. Walking this world are weak creatures who deserved to be crushed to make way for the strong. In the end your death is no fault but your own. I am merely a messenger of Death. But I am also the Devil himself. So come and take your death willingly and it will be less painful. No matter where you hide, the devil always finds you.”  A male voice comments, his voice void of any emotion.

A wave of anger washes over Yukiche. “Weak creatures who deserved to be crushed huh?” she murmured to herself. Footsteps approach her but she isn’t paying attention. Anger clouds her judgement as she spits out

“What utter bullshit. Who are you to dictate who is weak or strong? You attempt to kill me and act like you’re a god but anyone who tries to kill others because they’re weak is coward. Afraid of themselves and their own weakness. So, who are you to dictate strength when you are the weakest one. I pity you.”

She feels a sharp stabbing pain in her chest and cries out in pain.

“I can’t tell if you’re an idiot or brave to speak to me like that. But then foolish bravery is often the trademark of an idiot.”

Breathing heavily, she collapsed from the pain. Tears prick her eyes and she silently cries. She hopes that her body won’t be discovered by Haru or the girls. She didn’t want them to see that. Swallowing she gets up and tries to crawl away but knocks over a glass. Another tendril stabs but misses her, hitting the wall behind her and causing all the glasses to shatter. She ducks, trying to avoid the falling glass shards.  She accidentally stabs her hand on a piece of glass and tries to muffle her yelp of pain, but it doesn’t work. Black fabric wraps around her ankle as she’s dragged away and thrown against the wall.

Slamming against the wall, Yukiche felt her ribs crack. Groaning from the pain, the man walks closer his body and the air around him glowing red. His coat morphed into a monster with gnashing teeth, glowing red. Her heart was pounding. She tries to move but her body couldn’t.

She was going to die.

The man coughed one more and the beast was about to lunge forward to Yukiche to shreds when a voice yelled out.

“Akutagawa stop! That’s enough.” She recognised that voice. Standing next to the man was Chuuya Nakahara. The man whose life Yukiche saved by accident.

Then everything started to fade to black.

[eligos-venator]

8. Do you genuinely want your muse to be happy? What do you think would make them most happy in life?

Partially answered here!

But beyond what I have said there, I do not know if I want Eligos to find happiness in life. He already has it made, so to speak, and if he could realize what he had, he would want for little. His many flaws and his traumas faced are what keep him moving on and forward heedless of what he has achieved before and where he stands now, always aiming for a higher peak. For him to be happy might well mean losing that drive, or its grip on him lessening. And that may be a good thing for his mind, but may well make it more difficult to have him meet other people as he would likely close himself off even further than he does already, and thus limit his growth.

Beyond a solution for the depression and working on the traumas that cloud his mind, what might make him happiest in life is a very, tiny small step. One that he himself cannot take and has no way to, as it’s forever unattainable. That step is finding a way to be accepted by animals. The scents of the ceruleum fumes, smoke, acidic chemicals that he works with, and the unnatural presence that he presents as a being born with an atavism, all of it combine together into a figure that, despite his best efforts, sets off the alarm signals of most animals. He’s worked with such materials for so long that the lingering scents cannot be gotten rid of, and with how sensitive the noses of animals are, he can’t fool them no matter how he tries. 

For someone who hails machinery as the solution to all things and believes even the Shroud itself should become a parking lot, Eligos adores animals far more than he might show, and it always breaks his heart a little when he reaches out to an animal that was seemingly friendly, only for it to catch a whiff of the unnatural scents and then wisely try to put some distance between them, this being made worse by that his atavism effectively marks him as something unnatural. While he can’t get around this at present, he will absolutely be as happy as can be when he finally learns a way to keep those very things that drive animals away from being noticed, so that he might be able to pet them without them being afraid or wary of him.

Thank you for the ask @placesyoucallhome!

[monaisme]

Day 1: mind control

They say that hindsight is 20/20.

Tony thought hindsight could suck balls, drink poison, and die.

“Tony, come on. You have to come and eat something... anything. It’s been four days—which is too much, even for you.”

Tony spun in his chair to face away from her, ignoring her pleas—

And leaving Pepper to pull out the big guns, “Do you think you’re doing Peter any favors; you being too sleep deprived and malnourished to be of any help to anyone when we do find him?”

Tony hated it when she used that voice, that horribly logical one that neither man nor board member could argue against. He stood up, too quickly, and grabbed the table’s edge to steady. “You’re right,” he croaked. How long had it been since he’d spoken? “Maybe a nap will inspire me.” He tried to smile at her, show her that he was okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

This screw up was too big, felt irreparable. He should have let the kid keep the suit. He should have been in contact with the kid from the beginning.  He should have followed up with the FBI about that damned Toomes guy. And maybe... just maybe he should have reined in his asshole-like tendency when it came to one Thaddeus Ross, U.S. Secretary of State and certifiable psychopath.

All of the Avengers knew his history and his obsession, especially with Bruce. They shouldn’t have been lulled into complacency. Ross had wanted enhanced soldiers—and now he had one.” Peter has to be so scared... and hungry, and what if he hasn’t healed yet. What if...”

“Tony?” Pepper interrupted his thoughts before he could really spiral. “Come on. I’ll make you a smoothie and then you can crash on the couch for a bit,” she encouraged, holding her hand out for him to take. “That way you’re in the thick of it if FRIDAY or Rhodey come up with anything.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” His smile felt bigger this time, unsure who he was trying to convince. He grabbed her offering and they headed toward the elevator, only to stop in his tracks and rush out a desperate, “FRIDAY?”

“Tony,” Pepper whispered, “You don’t have to ask, she’ll...”

Tony interrupted her, “Just hang on, please? I just have to check one more thing!“ Eyes flew to the ceiling. “Any luck with Ross’s government or personal cell phones? Any pings?”

FRIDAY responded immediately, “No, Boss. Both cell phones have been untraceable since approximately 20 minutes after your plane crashed at Coney Island. I have expanded the parameters of the search to include any known personal assistants and his daughter, Betty Ross as well. Is there anyone else I can include that I have not anticipated?”  

“No one that I can think of,” he answered. “Good job, Baby Girl. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, Boss. I will notify you of any changes in the search.”

There was nothing else he could do in that moment. Nothing at all.

Pepper squeezed his hand, “We’ll get him back, Tony. If anyone can, it’s you.”

And Tony hoped she was right.

*

Four Days ago:

Thaddeus Ross was not a man to be trifled with. He’d worked hard in his decades long military career to establish himself as a man of morals, of action, and worthy of the respect and admiration of his peers. He practically bled red, white, and blue, damn it.

He also knew better than those talking heads in Washington, D.C. when it came to those bloody mutants and exactly how they should be used in a time of war—(and if wormholes in the sky and glowing rocks didn’t count as that, then they were fools.) which was why the Sokovia Accords needed to be signed now.

His only benefit was that Tony Stark was playing nice... sort of. Yes, Stark wanted accountability. God knew he had enough blood on his hands to warrant it. The problem was that Stark also wanted his band of freaks back in the fold, and after the whole Winter Soldier debacle, Ross was going to make him work for every damned concession—if Stark would only answer his damned phone.

Yes, he knew that Stark was treating this like a joke but that night, on Coney Island, the joke was on him.

Ross had never been sure of how involved Stark was with the Accords versus the band of lawyers Ross was forced to work with day in and day out, and so Ross had submitted a caveat regarding notification to the U.N. Accords Committee of the transportation of any and all Avengers related gear and related inventory—and the necessity of a U.N. sanctioned representative to confirm safe delivery. If he was the official channel, then so be it.

And Stark never mentioned it.

Which was why, on that early October weekend, he had been stationed at the Avengers compound, waiting. Ross knew that there was no one important waiting for delivery, and it would be a perfect opportunity to pocket some Stark tech for his own personal agenda.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. “Ross,” he answered.

He listened to the excited explanation on the other end of the phone. Something had happened and the plane with all of Stark’s toys was currently plummeting toward Coney Island. And then the correction: It had crashed at Coney Island.

Ross was already buckling into the helicopter he’d commandeered for the occasion and was in the air before instructing his man on the ground to stand by, but to observe and inform Ross of any changes in the situation.

And, oh, how it had changed.

“Mr. Secretary, sir, it appears that Spider-Man and an unidentified subject have emerged from the crash and are ‘battling’ over the inventory.”

“What?”

“Yessir, they are actively engaged, though it appears that Spider-Man is wounded and will require medical assistance if things continue as such.”

Ross had to know. He had to know if Stark had violated the essence of the Accords by using a mutant to guard his plane. Tony Stark would be on the Raft faster than you could say, “I was Iron Man.”

He dialed, waited for the call to connect, and then fumed. “Hi, you’ve reached me. I’d rather have a colonoscopy than talk to you, so leave a message at the beep and I’ll call you back... oh, wait. There is no beep.” And, once again, Tony Stark hung up on U.S. Secretary Thaddeus Ross.

Ross hated that man, almost as much as he’d hated Howard Stark, and oh, what he wouldn’t do to make that man suffer.

Stark needed to be brought down a peg.

His helicopter landed, Ross disembarked immediately and approached his aid. “What do you know, Anderson?” he barked.

Anderson pointed to the top of the rollercoaster. “Spider-Man perched on the top of the Cyclone a few minutes ago and hasn’t moved, Sir. Like I said in my earlier report, I think he may be injured. Should we call Mr. Stark, Sir? It’s my understanding that they are working together.”

“I’m afraid Stark is unavailable, so we’ll be dealing with this one in house,” he looked to Anderson and grinned, then made a performance of turning off his cell phone. “You’ll need to call the team. I think it’s time to go and collect us a bug.”

*

While Ross had been on-site exclusively since the acquisition of Subject 17-A, it was the first time he’d been able to pull himself away from the paperwork that comes with trying to build a proper enhanced militia. There was also the little matter of making sure Tony Stark and his minions couldn’t track him down now that he was finally getting somewhere. It was tedious, but with the blood work and tissue samples collected that first day, progress was being made—slowly.

It hadn’t been long for his people to approach him on the first day of the subject’s actual conditioning regiment. Standard drug protocols were proving to be ineffective due to the subject’s enhanced metabolism. LSD, cocaine, and heroin were all burning through too quickly. The altered state they were looking to achieve in order to gain a foothold was seemingly impossible; and so they moved onto less palatable but still valid methods.

And so the beatings had begun with intermittent shock treatments to reinforce and correct behaviours.

That didn’t mean that the chemical option had been taken off of the table—not at all. His scientists were geniuses, simply blacklisted for having the testicular fortitude to do whatever they deemed necessary to create a perfect weapon for the safety of the American people! Another area of the compound was dedicated to running analysis after analysis on different drug combinations to achieve desired effect. It wouldn’t be long before they were back on track with a full gambit of toys to play with.

He keyed entry into the observation room. It was empty save for recording equipment on this side of the one-way mirror, an intercom, and the hardwired control for the subject’s ‘training sessions,’ which was perfect. Ross wanted to observe without distraction.

A weak, “Hello?” called out from the other side of the glass. “Who’s there?”

Ross stepped up to the glass and smiled. He looked so innocent... so frightened there, bare save for a surgical gown and strapped to the vibranium table that Ulysses Klaue had been kind enough to provide for a very reasonable price.

“I can hear someone new. Please? Can you help me?” he called out.

Ross was irritated at the request for help (but still impressed with the enhanced hearing). His conditioning, however, should have been further along for three days of work. He pushed the button on the wall, counted to ten, and then released, all the while watching the subject strain against his restraints.

Electricity was such an effective tool.

“Subject 17-A. Please refrain from any attempt at communication.”

The subject looked confused for a second, like he was trying to figure something out, and then he realized, “Secretary Ross?”

It was out before it could stop itself, it seemed, and Ross delighted in the twenty count this time. Its screams were a thing of beauty. “Subject 17-A. Please refrain from any attempts at communication.”

Subject 17-A sniffed as tears poured down its cheeks.

Twenty-five seconds and then Ross waited.

Subject 17-A was silent after that, save for the sound of its involuntary grunts and spasming limbs striking at the table... and Ross would allow that.

*

They’d hit the one week mark.

Tony was devastated.

Any hopes of tracking Ross or any accomplices through his government staff had been an absolute failure. Those assigned to work the office of the United States Secretary of State were all present, accounted for, and cleared of any involvement with this catastrophe.

Thaddeus Ross had gone rogue and had been planning it for a while.

Tony pulled at his hair. “What the fuck are we missing?!” he yelled. “It’s been a week!”

Rhodey, Vision, and Bruce said nothing.

Tony started listing off everything he could think of. “We’ve checked the dark web. Ross isn’t selling him. He isn’t selling his DNA. There hasn’t been any chatter on any of the black op sites. What the hell is he doing?”

Bruce finally spoke up, “I don’t know, but I’m not sure he knows either. It’s not like he’d planned to nab the kid.”

And that was all it took. Tony grabbed Bruce by the cheeks and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead. “Bruce, you genius! They weren’t ready for him! And he was hurt! Oh, fuck, he was hurt, Bruce. We’ll have to get the med bay ready for him in case things need fixing, ‘cuz Ross is a sadist if ever there was one and a movie night with—“

“Tony!” Rhodey yelled out, trying to distract Tony from his rant. “What are you talking about?”

“Guys, Ross wasn’t ready for him and couldn’t have been what with his wacked out DNA! That means we track any pharmaceutical orders, international, too! We’re looking for any orders of chemicals or compounds used by or ever researched by you and Cho for use on Steve! Hell, anything that has similar properties or off book uses that could potentially affect Peter, too! You got that FRIDAY?” He didn’t stop for her response. “They could—“

“Search complete, Boss. I’ve found something.”

Tony was feeling hope for the first time in forever. “Lay it on me, Baby Girl.”

“An order for multiple drugs researched by Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho for use in anaesthesia in the event that Captain Rogers needed surgery has been placed by a Dr. Gerald Rickman of Norfolk, Virginia. The delivery is tentatively set for two hours from now at a warehouse in an industrial park to the south of Allentown, Pennsylvania, though actual delivery time may change depending on traffic and route selection.” FRIDAY intoned.

Tony was suiting up before FRIDAY had made it through the standard delivery disclaimer. “Send the delivery point to the suits and quinjet, FRI,” he directed. “Bruce, Vision, fly out and meet us there. We’ll need to be ready for medical evac. Rhodey,” he stopped in his tracks and looked him directly in the eye. “Get the kid out at all cost, and then we burn’em to the ground. Got it?”

Rhodey nodded in agreement. “I got it, brother. Let’s go get your kid back.”

“And one more thing,” he announced as he rocketed into the air, “Ross is mine.”

*

His rage could be heard over the blare of the sirens blaring overhead. “What have you done?!” He grabbed Dr. Rickman by the shoulders and shook him. “All of the security, the firewalls, the backdoors, and you order off of your phone while you’re taking a shit?!”

The man cowered in fear. “B-b-but I thought—“

“If you’d thought, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Do you know what that alarm means? It means a perimeter breach, because of you! The Avengers are here because of you! My life’s work, over! Because of you!” Ross released the man from his grip with a shove. With a calm contrary to what he was feeling, he pulled out his Beretta M9. “This is all because of you.”

The shot could be heard over the sound of the siren, but the sound of Dr. Rickman’s body hitting the ground wasn’t.

It was over.

The wall to the left of him blasted open, debris scattering all over the floor—scattering all over Dr. Rickman.

Iron Man walked through the opening, arm raised and repulsor charged and pointed directly at Ross, still clutching his smoking gun. Iron Man looked from Ross to the body on the floor, and then back to Ross.

Neither man spoke for a moment, and then Ross broke the silence, “Aren’t you going to ask why I did it?”

“No.”

“Are you going to ask where he is?”

“No.”

“The great Tony Stark, silent after all this time? I never thought I’d live to see the day--”

And with that, Tony smirked. “You took the kid. Who said you get to live?”

Ross grinned, “You mean Subject 17-A?”

The repulsor fired before even Tony registered that he’d done it—and he was okay with it. He looked down at the now smoking corpse that had been the bane of his existence and gave it a kick. “His name is Peter Parker, asshole. He’s Spider-Man.”

*

In the end, it had been Vision who’d found him. Dematerializing to float through walls cut out a lot of wasted time.

The flood of relief was evident in the tone of everyone’s reply.

Tony’s, “I’m on my way, Vis. Keep my Spider-baby safe.”

Rhodey’s, “Awesome. Let me clean up some loose ends and I’ll meet up with y’all.”

But then Bruce, “Um, guys? I found something.”

Tony heard the seriousness in Bruce’s voice. “Vis, I’m a minute from your location, get ready to join up with Bruce and get everything you can.” Tony looked at the cement walls as he passed, saw remnants of the others that may have come before Peter. “And do it quick. We’ll analyze it later, unless it’s an immediate need. Bruce?”

“We’re good, I think. I’m gonna grab some samples and let Vision deal with the rest. This place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

Tony looked at what may have been blood stained concrete. “Me, too, bud. I think we may have to go ‘scorched earth’ on this place.”

Rhodey piped up then, “Agreed. I think this place has seen some dark shit.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Tony entered the room where Vision stood guard over Peter’s prone form. “Get it fast so we can get gone, okay, Vis?”

Vision nodded and disappeared, leaving Tony alone with Peter.

Tony huffed a sigh of relief and approached the table where Peter lay, thankfully no longer confined. He smiled down at the boy who seemed determined to stare only at one fixed point on the ceiling.

“See anything interesting up there?” Tony asked, looking to see what had captured his interest.

Peter clamped his mouth shut.

Tony saw it, thought he understood. “Pete? Hey. I’m really sorry about all of the things that happened before, and um, about the suit. I was so wrong and I realize that now.”

Peter remained silent.

Tony was confused, “Pete? Are you okay?” he reached out, brushed back some of Peter’s curls from his forehead.

A silent tear ran down his cheek.

“Pete?”

Bruce appeared in the door, clutching a file and a satchel of more. “I think I understand what happened here... or at least what they tried to make happen...” Bruce trailed off.

Tony waited for an explanation.

“Did you ever hear about the MK Ultra program out of the 60s, 70s, and 80s?”

Tony thought for a second, then remembered, “Do you mean that shady CIA mind control program that was supposed to be cancelled but wasn’t really and everyone just pretends that it was?”

Bruce gulped, loosened the collar of shirt, nodded.

Tony looked down at Peter again. “Did they try to do that with you?” He brushed back the curls again, more gently than before.

No response.

“Tony, he may think you’re a test.” Bruce whispered as he glanced down at the notes in front of him.

Tony’s heart sank. Had he taken too long? He smiled sadly at the boy, “I know what we can do. We can head back to the city and, after Dr. Cho—who’s a really great doctor, by the way—after she checks you out, we can relax and watch a really old movie, like Star Wars or something.” He tried to remember anything. “That was the one you liked, right? Inspired some pretty epic moves during that whole airport thing, huh?”

Peter blinked.

“Speaking of airports, I sort of owe you for saving my plane, Underoos. That would have ended sooo bad if you hadn’t pulled that crazy stunt. I mean crashing a plane? That’s more my style, but I’ll let you have this one, square deal?”

Peter turned his head toward the voice, “Mm—“

Tony wrinkled his nose at that, “Kid, if you’re gonna call me Mr. Stark, we need to have a conversation. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but then you managed to get kidnapped and all.”

Peter huffed out the quietest of laughs.

“And there you are, Spider-baby.” Tony whispered sweetly. “Ready to go home?”

Rhodey and Vision arrived in the doorway. “Tony? Why don’t you guys go on ahead. I’m gonna take care of some stuff here, alright?”

Tony and Rhodey shared a look, and Tony understood.

“Sounds good, Platypus.” Tony pulled Peter into his arms bridal style. “We are gonna fly first class, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just gonna light’er up and be right behind you.” He looked at the boy in Tony’s arms. “I was sure I heard something about a movie night as I came in and I am not missing that. Tones does the best snacks.”

Peter curled up a little more.

Tony took the cue and tightened the hold. “Alright, then, Spider-Man, your chariot awaits. Vision? Bruce? Let’s go.”

*

It was hours later, when Peter was sleeping soundly in the medbay, that Tony had a chance to look at the file.

And it was only moments after he finished that he swore he’d never let anyone hurt Peter again.

@febuwhump

[mcatra]

Entrapdak Highschool AU fic (p.1)

It’s oh my god they were assigned lab partners hours 

Nerdy prep Entrapta x delinquent Hordak 

AO3 LINK

or Read under the cut 

‘Get into pairs, class. We’re starting a new science experiment today.’

Everyone starts shuffling into their respective partners seats, chatting idly amongst themselves. Hordak ignores them, choosing instead to glare at a fixed point on the wall. His grades were less than stellar, and it didn’t help that he always ended up doing partner work entirely by himself. If his classmates were afraid to work with him, it wasn’t his problem.

He's never had any need to talk to anyone who went to Etheria since the merger. The two rival schools had combined into one years ago, much to the chagrin of both. The Horde's facilities had been run to the ground, so the government had decided to combine the previously private all girls school to save on funds.

There was still a bitter feud between the former schools students, and their friend groups have stayed mostly separate. However Hordak had not bothered himself with befriending anyone, as both were (rightly) terrified of him.

Rumours had circulated about how he was part of a gang, or how he had mafia tattoos that he covers up, or he had beat up rival students and that's why he always came to school with injuries. This was further exacerbated by the fact that he had a short temper and a large stature, and the private school girls prejudice about the Horde didn't help.

All he was there for was to graduate, socialising was beneath him as far as he was concerned.

As he's mulling over the ways how he can somehow scrape through this class with the minimum marks, Hordak sees a shadow loom over him, and he scowls.

His substitute teacher pushes up his glasses and coughs politely to grab his attention. ‘Hi, Hordak was it?’ He says in a fake sweet tone that came off more as patronising.

Hordak doesn’t answer, which they seem to take as an indication to press further.

‘You don’t have a lab partner?’

A small gasp could be heard from his classmates, and he can feel their stares at the gall of the substitute for even asking.

‘I don’t require one.’ Hordak says coldly, glaring up at him. ‘I can do it myself.’ He didn't trust anyone else to do the work anyway, and hated the idea of being forced to talk to someone all term.

The teacher looks slightly taken aback, especially when he catches the eye of the girl with short silver hair silently indicating him to stop. He frowns, but is determined not to be usurped on his first day.

‘You will be assigned one whether you like it or not.’ His teacher says, to the almost comical sound of scraping chairs as his classmates inch away avoiding eye contact. An uncomfortable silence washes over the classroom and before the situation could escalate, a chirpy voice pipes up.

'I'll be his lab partner.'

Hordak looks around, taken aback. No one had ever dared to volunteer to be his partner before.

It was a short girl with long untamed purple hair past her waist. She was wearing their issued white lab coat, a plaid skirt, black boots and an obnoxious grin on her face.

He suppresses a groan. Not her.

Entrapta was the smartest in the grade, a preppy chatterbox who hung out with the popular crowd. The exact opposite of what Hordak was. Entrapta had fallen out of favour with the popular girls a while ago, and now was friends with some emo girl and her jock friend from the Horde.

Not that he was paying attention, of course.

She had tried to talk to him once junior year, when his home life was so bad that he had cut class just to tend to his wounds behind the boys bathroom block. Entrapta had seen him, just before he pushed down his sleeve to cover up the marks.

He had yelled at her to get out, which would send the normal person running- but the purple haired girl didn't even flinch. She had told him to wait a minute, and rifled in her bag filled with a comically large amount of items.

Tadaa, she declared, unearthing a box of obnoxiously pink and cupcake patterned band aids. You keep them, she had said before leaving, and he was left with a cocktail of emotions ranging from shock, disbelief, and mortification.

He had refused to wear them at first to make a point, but eventually caved seeing as he didn’t have any other forms of medical supplies which he desperately needed. Hordak still avoided her in the halls since then, unable to cope with the reminder that someone had seen him in any shape or form vulnerable.

-- 'So, I think we should get started on this..' Entrapta rambled, rifling through the equipment in the drawers. Hordak watched her begrudgingly. He really didn't understand this girl, and why she was trying to get involved with him. Didn't she know this partnership certainly wasn't doing any favours to her current reputation? Or was it out of sympathy, regarding their last interaction?

He watches her lab coat fly around her as she runs, collecting beakers and chemicals until the entire table is covered with materials.

'Put these on.' Entrapta handed him some safety goggles. He frowns, refusing to take them. She finally looked up from her experiment, a confused expression on her face.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Hordak says, deadpan.

‘What do you mean?’ She questions, and her expression is so innocent he almost second guesses himself. Almost.

‘What are your intentions?’ He presses more forcefully. ‘I don’t need your pity. If that's the reason why you volunteered, I can do it myself.' He didn’t like the feeling that he owed her anything, especially that he never asked for it.

‘Oh, is that all?’ Entrapta says, turning back to her experiment. 'I wanted to do it. Science is more fun when you have someone to bounce ideas off with! Besides, Scorpia paired up with Catra, and...' She trails off hesitantly, looking back at the popular girls who were currently fighting for the position to be the blonde girl's partner. Entrapta pulls the goggles over her eyes.

Hordak stares at her, before huffing quietly to himself. She was ostracized from her former friends, and to some degree he could understand. At least he knew she could pull her weight, if her grades were any indication.

‘Fine. Suit yourself.’

--- They continue as lab partners throughout the next week, and he slowly but grudgingly gets used to the tiny chatterbox that’s forced herself into his life.

At first he's determined to ignore her, but once she starts rambling about her hypothesis about cosmic forms and space, he breaks his silence to counter her (frankly wrong) theory. Instead of being offended, Entrapta gasps in giddy excitement, thrilled at his knowledge and demands to hear more. He tells her how it can't possibly be correct due to various theorems and how the universe was far larger than she can comprehend it. They go back and forth the entire lesson, looking up articles and old obscure satellite videos on his phone until their conversation gets cut by the bell.

He doesn’t think about Entrapta again until later that night, when he receives a text.

Unknown: HORDAK!! :)) there’s been a new breakthrough about the asteroid belt, u need to read the paper on it!! I sent you a link, let me know ASAP about what u think!!!

He looks at the text dumbfounded.

Hordak: How did you receive this number? Unknown: Oh i added you when you weren’t looking! during class :PP Hordak: That's a flagrant breach of privacy. Unknown: [image.attachment] [image.attachment]

Hordak squints at his screen. What had she just sent? A grey shaped blur?

Hordak: What is that. Unknown: 🤖🤖🤖🤖 Hordak: I do not understand. Unknown: [mp4.attachment] That's Emily!!! I built her myself!!! :)) 🔧🔧 Hordak: You made that? A fully functioning bot? Hordak: That is most impressive. Unknown: thanksss;;! :///) Hordak: I will read the paper and we can discuss it in person tomorrow. Unknown: :D

-----

True to his word, he meets up with her on their free period in the library. Entrapta is bouncing with boundless energy, pulling stacks of books from shelves which Hordak somehow finds himself carrying.

They were talking for a while (well mainly Entrapta was chattering while Hordak listened) until he noticed a group of girls staring at them.

He recognised them as the same ones from their bio class, whom which Entrapta had referenced yesterday.

What did you expect, of course she's with the Horde.

He can hear the short pink haired girl whisper to her group of friends, who exchange incredulous looks with each other.

The only thing that matters to her is science, not people. She doesn't care about us.

He feels a flash of irritation, and he turns to the now oddly silent Entrapta.

'Do you want me to dispose of them?' Hordak growls, getting up from his chair. He can’t believe that they were the company she had chosen to be with in the past.

‘A-aaah-’ She looks up from her book in alarm and drags him back down into his seat. ‘Please don’t do that.’

He frowns at this, surely she shouldn’t be tolerating this sort of bullying.

‘But they insulted you.’ He says petulantly.

'No, it's okay.’ Entrapta says vacantly, propping her study glasses down so it obscured her expression. 'Do you want to listen to some music?'

She offers him an earbud. Hordak takes it, but not before shooting a glare in the girls direction. They caught him looking and they scatter, and he rolls his eyes. Good riddance. They don't deserve her company in the first place.

---

'The way they treat you is unacceptable.' He fumes a few days later as they're walking to class. For some reason he's still feeling irritated, like an itch under his skin that he can’t get to.

Hordak had seen the way Entrapta's 'friend' Catra had blatantly copied her notes, or the other girls needled her for answers despite their thinly veiled hostility. Entrapta had just let it happen, even though they were just using her. He definitely would have destroyed them, but every time Entrapta just puts a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

'They're all fools! How dare they disrespect you like that. You have more intelligence than all of them combined.' He rages, but for some reason she's smiling.

'Thanks. For being mad on my behalf.' Entrapta says. 'But I'm okay. I like to help. It's not that bad now that you're here.'

Actually one would argue that the rumour mill actually gotten worse since they started talking, considering his unfortunate reputation. A part of him felt responsible for that, as he never really considered how his actions would affect other people. Well more like he had never cared about that in the past, but this was different- this was Entrapta and she didn’t deserve any of it.

Just let me protect you, but he wants to say impatiently, but he doesn’t.

--- They start studying together per Entrapta’s request, exchanging notes from shared classes and explaining things that the other had trouble understanding. This was probably an excuse to hang out more outside of class, but he didn’t mind.

Sometimes she leaves little encouraging notes in his workbook, 'You can do it!' accompanied by little doodles of herself. He would never tell her, but the reason for an uptick in homework completion is largely due to how he enjoys seeing her scribbly handwriting next to his meticulous print.

Slowly but surely his grades started to improve with the amount of study sessions they were having. When he comes back from an exam with an A instead of his usual low C's, she jumps for joy and practically throws herself into his arms. Caught off guard, he barely manages to catch her as she loops her arms around him. Entrapta’s tiny stature meant she could only reach up to his waist, so he can only see the crown of her head.

Hordak can’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, but this was...nice. She was warm, and kind of smelt like flowers. Her presence wasn’t all too bad, he decides.

----- Sometime during the week, he finds her in the science lab alone just before class, munching on an assortment of tiny snacks. 'Tiny muffin?' She offers from where she sat perched on the classroom table.

'There's no eating allowed in the labs.' Hordak reminds her, but takes the muffin anyway.

He watches her run around the lab, knocking over someone’s pencil case with her long purple hair in her rush. How does she dye that much hair?

'Isn’t it more efficient to tie your hair back while doing experiments?'

'Hm? Oh yeah, I probably should.' She says, tugging on a strand. 'Can you tie it up for me? I’m kinda busy.’

Hordak hesitantly accepts the elastic bands offered to him. A multitude of thoughts ran through his mind. I am definitely not qualified for this. What hairstyle would suit her anyway?

After a minute he very carefully takes half of her very soft hair and ties it up into a pigtail high above her head. He delicately pulls some loose strands from her face and ties the other half up to match.

She turns around to look up at him, and the light catches on her features, illuminating her for a few seconds. Hordak stares for a brief second, before his heart nearly jumped out of his chest as people start trickling in through the door for class.

She doesn’t seem to notice his momentary crisis as she looks over their instructions for the day.

‘We’re making crystals! Absolutely fascinating structures.' She adds a few chemicals to a beaker, and passes it to Hordak.

He’s still recovering from the previous trick of the light, in which he thought she almost looked... pretty? Simultaneously horrified and embarrassed at the thought, he snatches the beaker. He gingerly adds a few more and stirs it, watching the liquid inside change colour.

'Great job!' She beams, and he feels himself get warm at being praised. Did she have to keep doing that? What was happening?

'Now we can start heating it up.' She places it on the hotplate, and he nods.

'Day 27, we'll be studying changes of properties in matter and joining molecules in repeating patterns.' Entrapta says into her audio log in her phone. ‘Say hi, Hordak!’

‘I am not saying-’

'Hordak's my lab partner,' She continues talking into the recording. 'If I can recall, we met junior year, behind the boys bathroom-'

His stomach drops at the mention of their first encounter, and instinctually tries to snatch the phone from her grasp- but by doing so knocks Entrapta right into the beaker.

The beaker which was currently boiling.

He thrusts his hand between Entrapta and the beaker without thinking, and cries out in pain as the burning chemicals splash on him.

The beaker shatters on the floor in a loud crash!

'Hordak!' She rushes over to him, jumping over the mess to where he had sunk to his knees.

He’s clenching his hurt hand stiffly, but manages to grit out ‘I’m fine.’ It was just a burn, he’s dealt with way worse at home. Thankfully the other students seem to be too caught up in their own failing experiments and loud chatter to notice their accident in the isolated corner of the lab. Even the teacher was busy scribbling something on the whiteboard. Negligent when it came to things that actually mattered, like the safety of the students. Hordak slowly starts to clean up the mess, his shaking hands picking up the glass.

Entrapta smacks the shard out of his hands and grabs his arm.

'That's not important.'

She drags him over to the sink, and plunges both of their hands under the cold water. He feels a rush of cool relief, and he breathes out until he realises that her hands were still coiled around his. He feels his heart stop then start again but at a jackhammer pace, and his hands start trembling for a completely different reason.

Hordak tries to speak, but can feel his ears burn red from embarrassment.

The moment ends when Entrapta finally turns off the tap and gets some paper towels to dry off their hands. Luckily his hand was fine, but she continues to fuss over him for the rest of the lesson.

As he’s watching her, he thinks he recognises the emotion bubbling in his chest from earlier. 

Oh no, Hordak realises. This can’t be happening.

[tabithacarlisle]

*OFF THE RECORD : Part 10.1

.......

by jo ( @tabithacarlisle ;)

*Catch up on OFF THE RECORD’s previous chapters Parts 1-9 here at the OTR MASTERLIST

Word count: 5167

OTR Part 10 Notes & Warnings: Pixelberry Studios owns these characters, not me! I just have fun playing with them :)

Notes: This chapter because of the length & scope needed to be split into 2 parts.

*OTR Part 10.2 is still in the works, thanks for being so patient! ;)

Warnings: This will be 18+ NS*W, !, erotica, polyamory, marital angst, discussions of group sex, recreational [legal]drug use, swearing,

If you click ‘Keep Reading’ you are acknowledging that you are 18+

*OTR Part 10.1

……….

“We’re here!! Max, take the road to the left of the gates. Ellis will let us in the back way to the cabin.”

“I’m so excited babe, I can’t wait to see it.”

Once past the security gates, Maxwell drove his Jag (a new purchase from his book advance earnings) down the newly paved road to the far end of the Valtoria estate.

“I know, I’ve only seen it in pictures so far and whenever Drake has FaceTime’d me when he had to come here for the building inspections. It’s going to be so perfect for the four of us! I can’t wait to show it to you in person!”

He parked in the side driveway and turning the ignition off, pivoted off the side of the driver’s seat and winced. “ohh. Almost forgot that was there” Maxwell brushed his hand lightly against something hidden underneath his shirt.

“Max, are you sure you’re ok with these new rules of Bastien’s? I know you don’t like guns.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Hate ‘em, in fact. Don’t get me wrong, I love swords and daggers and crossbows, mostly for their awesome champagne cork-popping potential. But firearms make me nervous, even after all those weeks of training I had to go through to be able to travel alone with you.”

“I know, Bastien made it so Drake has to carry one when he travels alone with Liam, too.”

“Y’know, the target practice training with Mara and Bash was actually pretty fun. But three full weeks of studying all of those security protocol books was really stressful. It made me feel like I was back at University again, and not the fun parts of University with the coed parties. Plus, reading through all of those scary possible scenarios was really…intense…”

“Maxwell, I know you said you’d do this for me, but if you’re ever uncomfortable with the responsibility just let me know, please? We can always ask one of the royal guards to escort us on our trips. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“I don’t. Tabitha, I love you so much. I would never let anything happen to you if I could help it. And if I have to get all ‘John Wick’ on some assassin’s ass to protect you and our ba—I mean your baby…”

Tabitha squeezed his hand. “It’s okay.” she whispered,  “You can say it to me, babe.”

“Well, statistically speaking, the chances that the baby’s mine are pretty low…”

“That doesn’t matter. You are going to be the most wonderful ‘Uncle Max.’ The best. And your little niece or nephew is going to be so blessed to have you in their life every day. I know I’m blessed to have you every day.” She beamed at him with eyes sparkling with tears.

Maxwell blushed. He squeezed her hand back and sighed, carefully patting the hidden SIG Sauer pistol holstered under his shirt. “Anyways… I’m looking forward to locking this thing up in the safe when we get inside.”

“I know, right? Inside our very own private cabin!! Look! There’s Drake and Liam on the porch!”

She walked carefully up the wood porch stairs; Maxwell followed behind her pulling their suitcases. Liam and Drake were outside busying themselves staining the wood porch deck that surrounded the cabin.

“Hey boys! We made it! Ooh, you both are looking sexy working hard out here in the sun with your shirts off. Mama likes. Need any help?” She tilted her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and raised her eyebrows suggestively at them. Drake looked up, beaming at her with a big goofy grin, looking like he was about ready to hand her a paintbrush, anxious to get her involved. Liam, on the other hand chuckled dismissively, shaking his head. He paused to wipe sweat from his brow and lean over the deck railing as he replied,

“Thank you, love, but… I’m afraid that’s not the best idea. Even outdoors, the chemical fumes from the deck stain might be harmful for the baby. You should go ahead, unpack, and relax indoors.”

She shrugged, “Okay, if you insist?”

“I do.”

Liam wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and bent down to kiss her sweetly. Tabitha got up on tiptoes to kiss him back, then turned ‘round to grab Maxwell by the hand.

“C’mon, Max! I want to show you your room.”

She went inside with Maxwell trailing behind her, whereupon he found himself denied entry as Drake braced his bare muscled arm flexing in front of the door frame.

“Slow your roll there, Beaumont. You aren’t pregnant. So go on, pick up a brush and get to work.”

“Nah, I’d better go in with her. Y’know? ‘Queen’s Retinue’ duties and all that...” Maxwell shrugged, smirking before he pushed Drake’s arm aside. “Have fun, fellas!”

Drake seethed as he watched them go in, muttering under his breath,

“Lazy-ass motherfu—“

Liam grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, scolding, “Drake, we promised we’d be civil out here, for Tabitha’s sake. ‘Circle of Trust’ Remember?”

They both watched them through the window and heard Tabitha squeal as Maxwell picked her up and carried her bridal-style up the stairs.

“Look at ‘em, Lee. Fuckin’ ‘Romeo & Juliet’ in there...”

“She needs him now. And I need you...”

Liam came up closer from behind and slipped his hands into Drake’s front jean pockets as he bent his head to kiss the side of his neck. Drake reached his hand around to cup the backside of Liam’s head, threading his fingers through Liam’s hair and arching his back into him, closing his eyes as he let out a low moan. Liam finished his sentence in a low whisper at Drake’s ear, before he playfully nipped it with his teeth.

“...to finish helping me stain this deck.”

“Ughh, fine. You win.”

“I always do.”

He slapped Drake’s ass, causing both of them to laugh as they went back to work.

...

Tabitha woke up from her nap in her room to the sounds of Maxwell and Liam laughing outside. She rolled gingerly off the bed and peered out the window, smiling. They had turned the riverbank into a makeshift driving range, hitting golf balls off of the dock. Tabitha felt utterly content and at peace at sight of the two of them having fun and enjoying each other’s company and it warmed her from within. The sharp kick she felt when she stood up startled her, and she held her belly as she spoke to it, “That’s right, baby. That’s your father down there…” The uncertainty of paternity that once seemed like it would be a cloud over all of their lives, here, all together where they could be together without expectations and restrictions, felt like a non-issue. It didn’t matter, because everyone who mattered to her was here with her, exactly how she wanted it to be. She went downstairs to go watch the boys' outdoor activities up closer.

Drake was on the porch, standing by the railing. He wasn’t watching the other two gentlemen as they horsed around by the river. Golf wasn’t his thing. He was facing the mountain range just beyond the cottage grounds seemingly lost in thought. He held an ornate looking brown beer bottle as he stood and took a swig. Tabitha approached him.

“That looks good.”

“Oh this? Yeah, it is. It’s a small batch Belgian Lambic I picked up at the bottle shop on the way over. Hazy, not too fruity, which is how I like it. It’s got a nice, rounded malt mouth feel to it though.”

“You’re making my mouth water. I can’t wait‘till this baby comes and I can finally drink beer again.”

Drake grinned and took another drink without breaking eye contact. Nothing sexier than a hot chick who can drink with the guys. She’s perfect. As an idea crossed his mind his eyes darted around towards the river, then back to her with a conspiratorial smirk.

“...I could… give you a sip. I won’t tell Liam.”

“I shouldn’t...”

“Why not?” he whispered back “Women around here drink in moderation when they’re pregnant. Hell, all of our moms probably did, and we turned out just fine. It’s Lee who’s gotten all paranoid after reading one too many American books on pregnancy to get ready for the baby. I don’t think one sip is going to hurt anyone.”

“Shhh...” She looked around to make sure Liam and Maxwell weren’t watching. “Ok give it here, quick before I change my mind.”

Tabitha took a swig from the bottle, and it was every bit as flavorful and complex as Drake had made it out to be.

“Mmmmm! that is good!”

“I told you.” His arms crossed over his broad chest satisfied at this small victory in their little secret. Drake was staring at her in awe as she took one last sip. A wide grin crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and leaned in towards her.

“I’m just so… so goddamned happy.”

Drake set the bottle down on the porch rail and beamed at Tabitha, clasping her shoulders and rubbing in affectionate circles as he beamed from ear to ear.

“We did it, Carlisle. This is what we’ve been talking about since, god... since we first hooked up, right? You and me, and Liam. We’re actually doing this crazy thing tonight. I never, ever thought we’d be able to convince him, but I should never have doubted you. You just have this way of bringing people together. Carlisle, I lo—“ his voice trailed off and his smile faltered for just a moment as he weighed the meaning of the words he was about to say,

“What?”

Drake’s expression became reverent. “I love you, Carlisle... Tabitha, I love you.” he spoke with such gentleness it was almost whispered. His hand stroked up the base of her neck and cupped the back of her head underneath her hair, pressing gently against the sensitive spot just under her ear, causing her breath to stutter.

“Drake...”

He smiled as his eyes searched hers, cupping her face in his warm hands, “What? Is it that much of a surprise to you?”

“No, I know you do. It’s just so nice to hear you admit it to me, finally.” Her arms snaked around the small of his back, “I love you too, Drake. So damned much.”

He pulled her by her hips to press against his own, then skimmed the back of his knuckles against her cheekbone as she closed her eyes and inhaled, savoring his touch in the charged moment they were sharing. “Well, I think that means I’m going to have to kiss you now.”

Tabitha opened her eyes again with a wry grin up at him, “You’d better.”

Drake wrapped his arms around her and looked animatedly over his shoulder as if to check to see if either of their lovers were watching them, “Nah, I don’t care who sees us anymore.”

Tabitha had just a short moment to get lost in the heated stare of longing in Drake’s eyes before they closed, half lidded, and his lips found hers, fitting together before she skimmed his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue to coax it open. It had been so long, too long, since Drake had allowed himself to kiss her like this: sure of his love for her, and sure of Liam’s blessing in this place of refuge they had created & built for this very purpose. Her knees went weak just as his arms braced around her torso and they melted into each other, breathless, desperate and hungry for touch. And all too soon, their embrace was interrupted.

“Oi! Cut that out!” Maxwell came bounding to them up the back-porch stairs, possessively pulling Tabitha’s torso away from Drake and tickled her as he playfully kissed the side of her neck. “Tabz! I’m here to save you from this random vagrant! He looked like he was about to devour your face off!”

“Maxwell! stahp!” She protested through fits of giggles. “You’re incorrigible.”

Maxwell’s arms wrapped round her with his fingers laced together under her belly from behind, and he bent down, resting his chin on her shoulder as he rocked her, gloating to his old friend. “Sorry, Drake. You know how it is. ‘Queen’s Retinue’ duties and all of that.”

“I know where I’d like you to shove your ‘Queen’s Retinue duties’ right now...”

Maxwell stepped in front of Tabitha scowling, momentarily emboldened by Drake’s challenge, “Fight me.”

Tabitha pulled back on Maxwell’s shirt collar to no avail “Max, please. This is ridiculous. Stop.”

Drake cracked his knuckles in fists at his sides.

“You asked for it...”

It took Maxwell all of 30 seconds after he challenged Drake for him to regret it. “Wait! No, don’t! seriously? Liam just asked me to bring you two inside for lunch. And we have to make it ourselves since you both insisted there should be no staff working on site while we’re here! Ha! Great idea, guys.” Maxwell put his thumbs up as his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No staff means no outside witnesses when I decide to wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Um... How about we wait ‘till after lunch?”

..........

The crew of four had lunch and spent the remainder of the day relaxing at the cabin. Four o’clock came around, and Tabitha rose to her feet. “All right boys, I’m going to go take a nice hot shower, maybe a soak in the tub first, then a shower, and get myself ready. For tonight. For us.” She stood up and winked, and they all stood up to bid her farewell.

She went to Liam first, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head before hooking a finger under her chin to tilt her head up to him. Her blue eyes sparkled at him, smiling crinkled the corners. “God you’re beautiful. I look forward to meeting with you again, soon, my love.”

“Liam” she whispered, “darling, I love you. So much. I’m so happy. Thank you, for everything. I want you to have fun with the boys relaxing tonight, ok? It’ll help your nerves. “ She could feel his hands trembling slightly as he cupped her face.

“Right, I know you’re right. You always are.” He bent down as she raised herself on tiptoes to kiss her softly on the lips, letting the kiss linger and open softly, grazing her tongue lightly with his before he pulled back and clasped her shoulders. “I love you too,”

Tabitha squeezed Liam’s hand before she let it drop as she moved to Drake, reaching for his hand hooked in his jean belt loops. “Drake, this house, this moment, everything, it’s perfect. None of this wouldn’t have been possible without you. Thank you.”

Drake wrapped her in a strong bear hug, pulling her tightly to his chest as he kissed her head and whispered in her ear, “I think you have that wrong. You’re the reason we’re all here. You made this happen. It’s your magic that set everything in motion.”

“So, a team effort then?” She smirked and winked at him, making Drake weak in the knees. He pulled her in for one last embrace before she pulled away, saving her Max for last.

Maxwell and Tabitha reached out for each other’s hands. He pulled her to him, and their hips met as flush as they could get with a nearly five-month pregnant belly separating them both. His hands took hers and rolled her arms in a dance and he met her gaze with raised brows, “Do you need any help drawing your bath? Or getting anything else in the room ready? I’m happy to help.”

“You are too good to me Max, no, I’ll be fine. These two will need you to get them relaxed. You brought the good stuff right?”

“You know it, I’ve got that under control.”

“If you’re sure then…” Maxwell kissed her hand and twirled her, giddy under his arms as her body curled up against his back. He bent down and caught her top lip in his before her mouth opened and his sighed into her. She pulled away reluctantly and dragged her hand down his arm before she squeezed his hands one last time.

“Ok. Have fun boys, and behave.  I love you all. And remember,” she laced her fingers together as she turned around one last time before heading to the master bedroom “Circle of Trust!” Her shoulders fell as she sighed audibly one last time before turning on her heels and heading towards the master suite.

……….

“It’s not working.”

“No, see… you have to click it five times fast, like this.”

Liam inhaled deeply, he never liked the smell or taste of marijuana and the sooner he got high enough to not care about either of those things, the better.

His hand holding the vape pen fell to rest on the white Turkish cotton spa towel covering his knees while the smoke billowed out of his mouth and nostrils as he spoke.

“I don’t feel anything yet.”

Maxwell clucked his tongue as he helped himself to the pen resting on Liam’s lap to take a hit. “Geez, don’t be such a noob. It doesn’t take effect the moment you start smoking. Give it a few minutes.” Maxwell leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as he took a drag and blew it out in a large, dense cloud.

“Check out the expert over here.” Drake snatched the pen from Maxwell’s hand, took a long drag for himself and then passed it back to Liam. “It’s true though. Apparently you’ve had more experience at all of this than either of us.”

“Experience at what?”

“Party drugs... Group sex...”

“Well yeah, when you’ve been to the kind of parties I have, the orgies are pretty standard.”

Drake coughed purposefully to hi-light his mocking.

“‘standard’... ‘orgies?’”

“Well, yeah... I mean...”

Liam and Drake both stared at Maxwell pointedly, waiting for him to finish the thought. He was sweating profusely as he began to understand how the casual tone of the words falling out of his mouth must sound to them. ‘Circle of Trust’... shit...

“I always got tested regularly!”

Drake’s brow furrowed and he sneered at Maxwell, “You just used the past-tense.”

“That’s because I never...” Maxwell’s voice trailed off and he mumbled the rest, clearly too embarrassed to be speaking about such intimate issues in front of his two old friends.

“What was that, Beaumont?”

“I meant to say that I haven’t slept with anyone else since we met Tabitha. The last rager-party I went to where I hooked up with someone was before your first bachelor party, Liam, before we met Tabitha... and I haven’t...”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else since we met Carlisle? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true! I wouldn’t lie about that. I know what’s at stake.”

“I believe him.”

“Wait a damned minute, Maxwell. I remember seeing Tariq strutting out of your hotel room the night we met Carlisle in New York. You’re telling me that was ‘nothing’?”

“Exactly, because I turned him down. Nothing happened, swear to god.”

Drake turned towards Liam, “You believe him?”

Liam looked Maxwell square in the eye and could sense the sincerity he projected. “I do.”

Maxwell continued replying to Drake, “Just because someone walks outta your hotel room, doesn’t mean that you’ve hooked up with them. You should know that. With Tariq in particular. You were there the night he tried to assault Tabitha.” Maxwell could feel himself getting angrier. He stared pointedly at Drake, hoping he’d drop the matter, and if he didn’t, Maxwell had half a mind to bring up that time in Paris when he saw Drake leaving Kiara’s hotel room late at night. I’ll bring it up, right in front of Liam, too. I don’t care. Just try me.

Drake persisted,

“So why, then? Was it because you were hoping to hook up with Carlisle? Was that your plan all along when you decided to sponsor her?”

“Fuck… no! Stop trying to think you understand my motives. ‘Cause you clear as hell don’t.”

“Yeah, but I know you, Maxwell.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Tabitha, she changed me. When we were going through Social Season I saw her with you, Liam. The connection you guys had was magical. I don’t know a better way to describe it-- it still is, and I realized that’s what I wanted to find someday, too. So I decided I was going to stop partying and stop sleeping around. But I never dared to imagine that we’d all end up like...” Maxwell’s thought trailed off. This was a getting lot heavier than most subject matters he was used to discussing while getting high.

Liam could sense Maxwell’s discomfort and attempted to change the subject, as he himself started to feel too buzzed to discuss such pressing matters, “Look, what’s done is done. I harbor no ill feelings towards you, Maxwell. And you,”

He turned re-directing his comment at Drake before he finished the sentence,

“need to... fucking, relax...” Liam’s shoulders shrugged, and he started giggling with an uncharacteristically wide goofy grin. The smoke poured out of his mouth and nostrils as he passed the pen to Drake, putting his hand on the inside of Drake’s thigh so that it began to push up the towel covering his lap, his head bent towards him as he looked down at Drake’s lips.

“Damn, Lee. You’re so high right now.”

“I know how to get you to shut up.”

“Then fuckin’ do it.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

Liam growled, “You know…” His eyes flickered back and forth from Drake’s lips to his dilated pupils and back again as he leaned in closer with a hand on Drake’s lap. The towels covering them both fell as they angled their heads and leaned into each other

“Yes, sire…”

“Fuck…”

Liam lips captured Drakes and their tongues began to twist together. Drake groaned in Liam’s mouth as his arms wrapped around his shoulders and he dipped him down on the wood bench.

Maxwell’s vision seemed to get cloudier. Did someone put more water on the rocks? It suddenly felt stiflingly hot and overwhelming as the sauna seemed to shrink before his eyes. Was he just really high? Or was the act of watching two of his oldest friends making out in front of him turning him on more than he had anticipated it would do to him? Their hands were all over each other, moaning just a bit too loudly for Maxwell’s taste. He felt like he was intruding on their privacy.

“Um… hey, you guys?” he spoke in a whisper under his breath, thinking out loud… but Liam and Drake were too wrapped up in making out to hear him “What’s the saying? ‘If you can’t join ’em… beat it?’ Heh-heh…”

Maxwell clicked the vape pen five times fast to start it up again and closed his eyes while blowing out the smoke out his nostrils as his hand reached down for his dick, already nearly erect at half-mast. His thoughts took him back to the shower in the Royal Chambers with Tabitha, how she rode him so slowly it made him ache. He remembered how the water droplets raced down her breasts as they bounced against his chest, how smooth her back was as he held her, the soft sounds she made as she neared climax…

“Bloody hell, Maxwell?! where have you been hiding... that—?”

Maxwell startled from his trance and he looked down, realizing he now had an audience as he jacked off. Drake and Liam were both back to sitting on the opposite bench, wide eyed slack jawed, staring at him and all of his 9 and a half inches. He stopped pumping his cock abruptly and gulped as his knees reflexively shut together, pulling his towel back over them.

“Um...in... my pants?”

“Clearly you are... a man of... hidden depths?” Liam fought an attempt to keep a straight face but failed when he couldn’t keep from snickering.

Drake snorted, “That’s one way to put it!”

“I’m going to take that compliment and run with it, Liam, thanks.”

Drake had been laughing so much he had to wipe the tears from his eyes and catch his breath before he spoke again, “Goddamnit, Maxwell, I’ll admit I never could understand what Carlisle saw in you before today, but... now?...I get it.”

“Oh fuck you. That’s not the only reason!”

“Pffft...Isn’t it?!?”

“Shut-the-fuck-up!”

He snapped his wet towel at him

“HAHahahaHA! Fuuuuck this is some good shit, I am... so high right now? I take it back, Maxwell. Your dick is huge, and every now and then you come up with some fan-fuckin’-tastic ideas. Like this weed vape. We definitely need to do this more often, Lee.” He leaned in to press his lips against Liam’s smile and ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth before taking another drag of the vape and passing it back to Liam

Maxwell took a big sip from his water bottle. “It’s nice to see you finally appreciating me, Drake. Thanks, man.”

Liam blew his toke out the side of his mouth, finally getting the hang of it, as he attempted to return to serious conversation. “So, are we really going to go through with this?”

“Damn right we are. And we better get started before I think better of including Beaumont, here.”

Maxwell scoffed, “Good thing it’s up to Tabitha and not you then, assmunch”

“You’d like it if I ‘munched’ your ass, wouldn’t you?”

Maxwell wiggled his eyebrows “Not as much as you’d enjoy ‘munching’ it”

Liam let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes and dragging a hand over his face in dramatic disgust while the other two dissolved into fits of giggles. Drake broke his laughter, wheezing, to say, “Nah, that’s never going to happen.”

.........

“So I’ll be taking Tabitha from the front, first. I am her husband and I am king after all. That ought to count for something.”

Maxwell took another long toke, and winced, squinting thoughtfully. “Seems fair.”

Drake guffawed, “no it isn’t! But that’s the whole point of the monarchy isn’t it? To not be fair.”

Liam gritted his teeth, “So that’s how you really feel?”

Drake closed his eyes and covered his face, only trying halfheartedly to keep from laughing more. Liam continued grilling him

“Tell me? What’s next? Are you going to start running around shouting ‘Eat the Rich!’ and spray-painting anarchy symbols all over the Palace walls?”

Maxwell giggled, “Heheheh... That’d be pretty funny.”

“Nah, Lee. If I end up painting giant letter “A”s on anything, it’s gonna stand or “Ass” “‘cause I fucking love yours. And Carlisle’s, for that matter... damn that’s a good piece of ass… But not yours, Maxwell.”

“Shuddup!”

“Enough! You two. Jesuschrist. Drake: Tabitha discussed wanting you to take her from behind for the entire duration. I believe that’s best…”

“I already talked about this with her before we came here y’know… you don’t have to-- "

“Did you, now? Fine, then Maxwell, after I’ve had her, you’ll take my place.”

“I’m down with that, but… why does this feel like you’re coaching us on plays before the big game or something Liam? It’s just sex…”

“ ‘Just sex’ Is that how you’d define it? Didn’t you have to plan out the details before your past ménage trysts?”

“Umm… nope? They kinda just, happened?” he winced and covered his eyes, the memories were making him blush, desperate to move the subject on from his past.

“Well I do feel, if we’re going to make this work, we need to have this planned out. Perhaps you’d be well advised to bring some more planning into your life for once, Maxwell…”

“Dude, dude… you’re going off… She’s gonna get mad if you’re in a pissed off mood when we start.” Drake chuckled, “Damn, Lee. Never figured you’d be an ‘angry stoner.’”

Max rolled his lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing. It didn’t work. His shoulders heaved as he spoke, “Pfft! Yeah, he’s pretty intense at micromanaging everyone when he’s sober, but this is some next-level shit”

Drake leaned forward wide eyed towards Maxwell, laughing with a side-five slapping his hand in agreement, “Right?”

“Would you two just--” Liam pouted, leaning against the wall. He was not amused.

Drake and Max both choked on their laughs as they tried to get serious again. “Nah, Liam. It’s cool. I’m down for whatever makes you guys happy; whatever makes Tabitha happy. We both love her, and I want us to make this work just like you do.”

“That’s good to hear from you, Maxwell. I’m glad it appears we’re on the same page.”

Drake leaned his arm on Liam’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss and murmur against his neck, “But I think you’re gonna have to relax a bit more before we go in there, Lee…” His lips captured Liam’s as they moved in a slow, licentious dance together.

Maxwell took another hit off of the vape. He was past the point of feeling awkward in front of the two lovers now but being high didn’t do wonders for his tact. “Hey,” he called out to them from across the bench, “So, who’s the top and who’s the bottom?”

Liam broke away from Drake, only slightly incredulous at Maxwell’s question before he answered, “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I think it’s a pretty valid question… considering what we’re about to all do— hey!”

Drake reached over and grabbed the pen from Maxwell to take a drag of his own. “We’re switch, verse. I dunno, whatever you ‘kids’ call it these days.” Liam nodded once silently, looking slightly uncomfortable and trying not to blush. Drake continued, “What about you, Beaumont?”

“Kid?” His nervous laughter belied more than the incredulity of someone less than a year older than him calling him ‘kid’, “I…I only ‘top’ now… I had a bad experience years ago…” his voice trailed off to almost a whisper.

Liam held his hand out to pause the need for explanation. “You don’t need to elaborate, Maxwell. It’s good that we’re being open about this though.”

“Yeah… I—” Maxwell felt his iWatch vibrate with the text notification scrolling across the tiny screen from Tabitha:

Tabitha 👑🌸 

Babe! It’s time! Where r u boys? Don’t make me come in there!! 😘😘😘 

Saved by the buzz.

............

TO BE CONTINUED !!!

Thanks so much for continuing to read and for all of the feedback, reblogs and support <3 :)

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rooms

REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG

tagged by :  kept  seeing  it  on  the  dash  so  naturally  i  did  what  i  always  do  and  ganked  it tagging :  idk  man  i  started  filling  this  out  at  5 am  and  have  no  idea  who  hasn't  done  it  or  not  yet

Kitchen:

What is the character’s favourite food?:  doesn't  have  a  true  ' favorite, '  so  to  speak,  just  a  few  dishes  it  favors  with  a  big  emphasis  on  few;  skekTek's  a  terribly  picky  eater,  bordering  on  meticulous.  greens  along  the  lines  of  tuber  plants  i.e  merkeep  —  cooked  throughly  —  are  high  on  the  short  list.  it  will  eat  meat  and  eat  it  regularly  but  only  really  if  it's  chewy  or  kinda  stringy,  armalig  is  definitely  high  on  the  list  due  it's  texture,  something  skekTek  is  also  meticulous  about.  oh,  and  those  little  grub   /   wormlike  creatures  we  see  here  and  there.  those  are  delicacies  to  them  and  they'll  eat  ' em  raw  and  by  the  dozen,  especially  the  bigger  and  chunky  ones. Are they good at cooking? How good/bad?:  definitely  not  good  at  it.  it  has  only  cooked  once  in  it's  life  and  it  was  essentially  just  them  holding  a  chunk  of  landstrider  thigh  over  an  open  flame  in  the  laboratory  and  hating  every  second  of  it.  never  again. Do they leave the dishes out?:  the  skeksis  eat  as  a  group  in  the  dining  hall  and  leave  the  dishes  to  podling  servants  each  and  every  time,  but  skekTek  doesn't  exactly  get  to  dine  with  fellow  lords  often.  most  of  it's  meals  are  leftovers  gleamed  from  the  kitchen  when  it's  supposed  to  be  closed,  and  there's  usually  small  stacks  of  plates  and  soup  bowls  here  or  there  in  the  lab  when  they're  really  in  the  zone  and  can't  be  bothered  to  move  them  right  at  that  moment,  but  skekTek  values  it's  organized  clutter  and  will  never  leave  something  unwanted  out  for  long.  again,  meticulous.  What kind of food is in their refrigerator?:  no  refrigerator,  but  as  i  mentioned  above,  skekTek  takes  leftovers  for  itself  and  nurses  off  of  those  as  it  works,  too  caught   -   up  to  properly  eat.  there's  a  few  boxes  in  a  room  towards  the  back  of  the  lab  that  store  greens,  nebrie  cheese,  the  aforementioned  grubby  creatures,  and  sometimes  live  crawlies. Do they cook, eat out or get take-away/delivered food?:  see  above.

Living Room:

How does the character spend weekends?:  breaks  are  rare  and  far-between  for  the  scientist,  and  they're  nothing  grand  when  they  do  happen.  just  skekTek  with  the  books  it  knows  to  be  unvandilzed  by  the  scroll-keeper   (   luckily  that's  most  scientific  accounts   )   and  the  company  of  it's  beasitary.  to  tell  the  truth,  they  don't  exactly   ...   know  how  to  spend  time  casually.  skekTek's  brain  is  an  odd  machine  constantly  firing  on  all  cylinders,  and  they  have  no  patience  for  things  more   ...   fiddly.  if  it  doesn't  have  a  purpose,  there's  no  point  basically.  though  in  the  golden  age,  it  would  venture  out  of  the  lab  more  often  and  visist  ha'rar's  library.  and  if  skekTek  ever  got  a  true  break  it'd  probably,  realistically,  just  sleep  for  hours  and  hours  on  end. What do they do with friends?:  do  animals  kept  as  lab  rats  it  bonded  to  out  of  loneliness  and  frustration  with  the  others  count  as  friends,  and  does  idly  babbling  to  them  about  it's  projects  or  day  or  problems  count  as  spending  time  with  friends. What’s their favorite pastime?:  sitting  away  from  anyone  who  can  bother  them,  working  on  a  pet  project  that's  entirely  their  own,  no  demanding  emperor  or  sly  chamberlain.  just  skekTek.

Bathroom:

How does the character prepare in the morning?:  skekTek  awakes  usually  a  full  hour  before  the  greater  sun  rises   (  when  it  actually  sleeps  )   as  to  get  an  early  start  and  beat  any  of  it's  kin  to  the  spa,  as  skeksis  share  bathchambers  and  it  has  a  strong  dislike  for  bathing  —  let  alone  disrobing  —  in  another's  presence.  really  the  only  reason  it  bathes  is  just  because  the  grime  starts  to  feel  uncomfortable  after  a  while,  even  by  skekTek's  standards.

in  fact  bathing  is  a  strong  word  actually,  what  skekTek  does  is  more  akin  to  a  once-over  with  a  soapy  rag,  then  leaving  immediately  after.  it  may  share  the  hedonistic  streak  all  castle  skeksis  do,  but  has  no  time  to  soak  or  care  about  things  like  flower  petals  in  the  water  or  fancy  smells.  from  there  on,  it's  tidying  up  yesterday's  mess  and  making  sure  everything  in  the  workstation  is  in  it's  proper  place  —  as  it  has  to  be  for  the  scientist  to  work  without  stress.  it's  a  very  simple  morning  routine  really,  especially  when  compared  to  the  others.

Do they sing in the shower?:  no.  and  if  it's  unlucky  enough  to  end  up  sharing  the  baths  with  another,  and  they  do  such  a  thing,  it'll  be  Miserable.  What kind of hair product/make-up do they use?:  sure  skekTek  has  an  ego  and  considered  itself  rather  handsome  in  it's  youth,  but  it  doesn't  value  beauty  the  same  way  other  courtiers  do  and  has  no  definition  of  self   -   care.  things  like  perfumes  or  make   -   up  would  eventually  end  up  masked  or  smeared  or  sent  running  by  the  heat  and  fumes  of  the  laboratory  anyways,  as  i  mentioned  above  skekTek  only  really  cares  about  things  if  it  considers  them  to  have  a  point.  in  it's  youth,  it  still  didn't  care  very  much  but  was  more  begrudgingly  obliged  to  allow  the  ornamentalist  to  gussy  up  those  blue  feathers  for  a  special  occasion.  the  maudras'  don't  like  smelling  chemicals  and  oil  at  meetings  or  dinners. How clean is this character?:  ^^^  nasty. Does the character have thousands of shampoo/shower gel bottles by the shower, or do they use only the bare essentials?:  ^^^^^^^^^^  is  dull,  scent   -   less  soap  a  bare  essential. 

Bedroom:

How do they sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines):  usually  it  just  falls  asleep  at  it's  desk  with  a  workbook  as  a  pillow,  but,  when  it  can  make  it  to  it's  chambers,  it  just  shambles  to  bed  grime  and  all  and  collapses.  it's  a  noisy  sleeper,  grunts  and  various  birdy  sounds,  and  sleeps  either  curled  in  on  itself  or  sprawled  every  which  way  —  limbs  and  tail  hanging  over  edges,  on  it's  belly,  on  it's  back,  sometimes  sagging  off  the  side  usually.  it's  a  light  sleeper  and  woken  easily.  on  that  note,  it's  also  rather  restless  and  tossed  and  turns.  in  it's  younger  days,  when  trying  to  properly  sleep,  it  would  just  stare  at  the  ceiling  for  hours  before  eventually  hauling  itself  up  to  go  to  the  lab. What are their pajamas like?:  again,  either  falls  asleep  in  it's  regular  robes,  or  a  simple  silk  nightgown;  similar  to  the  emperor's  but  not  as  decorative.  there's  a  few  sewn  designs  and  frills  here  and  there,  but  there  all  victim  to  skekTek's  fidgeting  habit,  plucked  at  excessively.  What do they dream about usually?:  like  all  skeksis  at  the  castle  save  for  the  emperor,  skekTek  is  incapable  of  dreaming, How neat/tidy are they?:  organized  clutter.  to  anyone  else,  it's  messy  and  roundabout,  to  skekTek  everything  is  order  and  if  you  mess  it  up  they'll  stress  out. How affectionate are they?:  in  the  negatives.  loathes  giving  it,  gets  uncomfortable  upon  receiving,  and  generally  doesn't  like  thinking  about  it.  the  closest  it's  gotten  to  it  is  petting  sidetic's  head  through  the  bars,  as  it's  the  one  lab  animal  not  scared  of  them.

Attic:

What is the character afraid of?:  hm.

the  emperor,  losing  worth,  being  thrown  away  by  the  emperor,  anything  happening  to  it's  good  eye,  being  forgotten   ...   it's  also  developed  a  form  of  claustrophobia  and  can't  handle  not  being  able  to  move  it's  head  or  having  it's  face  covered. 

How do they deal with bad memories?:  it  doesn't.  it  internalizes,  stews  in  them  and  becomes  more  and  more  angry  over  it  all  until  inevitably  lashing  out  at  the  world.  or  it  just  represses  them. What is this character’s role in a horror movie?:  the  monster. How do they hide their secrets?:  very  well,  though  the  emperor  and  chamberlain  see  through  it  clearly.