#Lab Erlenmeyer flasks

[accumax]

The Top 6 Benefits of Using Accumax Lab’s Erlenmeyer Flasks

Accumax Lab’s Erlenmeyer flasks offer superior chemical resistance, thermal stability, and accurate volume markings—perfect for advanced lab procedures. Designed with premium borosilicate glass, they minimize contamination risks and ensure reliable performance in every experiment. Discover the top 6 reasons why laboratories worldwide trust Accumax for high-quality glassware.

[easydoesit-rn]

🧪STIMMING AT THE LAB🧪

[hellothereimhannah]

Cheers, from your favorite neighborhood chem nerd 🤓🥂

[coffee-and-geto]

A DISTRACTION? OR A DUTY-FULFILLING BOYFRIEND?

“You’re losing your mind again, sweetheart?” he mumbles as his lips crash against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth. “Then let me do it twice.”

pairing: professor!gojo x f!reader

summary: what could be worse than giving your all to a school assignment only to see yourself fail with no chance of catching up? helplessness is a real haunt. but having a boyfriend under your arm who fulfills his duties, that’s just downright better.

warnings: MDNI +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, angst, fluff, fingering (f! receiving), sex p in v, unprotected sex, spoon position, morning sex, teasing, love making, overstimulation, creampie, art by @/3-aem.

wc: 3,749

masterlist | next part

Among all the sensations you may have studied during your PhD years, never, as a student, has the idea of feeling the world crumble around you in front of your powerlessness crossed your mind to the point of being a victim.

In fact, it’s more accurate to call it your world.

The Earth hasn’t stopped spinning, there are no earthquakes, no one is screaming or running away from the university to take refuge anywhere.

It’s just you, standing in front of a white lab bench littered with glassware of all shapes and sizes, from Erlenmeyer flasks to tubes and test tubes — there’s hardly any space to rest a hand. The oppressive silence seems to come alive despite the luxury of the large space provided by your university’s funds, which ensure that you always have the best equipment available for your students.

But it doesn’t matter when the silence wraps its anxiety-laden hands around your neck to strangle you like a sleep paralysis that urges you never to wake up from your nightmare.

Oh, if only it were a nightmare.

In your hand is your phone, the screen lit with a white light, leaving words typed in black ink at your attention, with nothing to defend you against, nothing.

No ammunition, no power, no control except an imposed acceptance in response to your research grant sent over a month ago that has perhaps 200 words to explain for the one word that remains etched in your retina was written, typed, and sent with the utmost cruelty:

Refused.

Once you’ve imprinted the word in you, everything collapses around you.

The clock in the room never stops ticking, advancing its hands with constancy, regularity and rigidity. Nothing stands in its way.

Whereas for you, it’s as if the world has stopped.

Nothing in you responds. All your limbs move, pick things up, move forward, backward, away. But something remains off.

The almost empty corridors of the few strolling students are invisible, the occasional muffled chatter in your ears, the cold wind scratching your face as pale as a sheet is nothing compared to the din your head produces.

No, no, no, no…

It’s a nightmare…

Just wake up…

The door to Satoru’s office swings open, the strength of the wood and your grip creating a draught that blows away sheets he’s carefully stacked to slip into his bag to end his day.

“What’s going—”

Remaining standing in front of the door, which you soon close with more force than you’d like, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down in front of him, even though the urge is more than seductive. Your heart is pumping wildly in your ribcage — so hard, in fact, that the thought of tachycardia crosses your mind.

There’s little light in the classroom laboratory, so it’s the yellowish glow of the lights that melts onto your skin, casting tired shadows on Satoru’s face.

He scrutinizes you, cautious and hands still frozen just above his desk where his papers still lie. His normally impeccably pressed white shirt is slightly creased beneath his black tie. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms with colored veins sinuating his milky skin.

His mouth parted for a second, the words hanging on the tip of his lips but stopping all sound in their tracks.

“What happened?” he finally mouths.

The hand holding your phone tightens its fingers around the screen, which threatens to crack under the force of your pressure, and then the muscles in your face are the first to betray you.

Chin trembling, the lips curved downwards, eyebrows and eyes crinkled in a vain attempt to suppress tears, and a silent sob escaping like a sellout.

Immediately, Satoru’s two large, powerful and familiar arms encircle your body as it collapses against him. More sobs join the burning tears dripping down your cheeks, some of which crash onto his shirt while others get lost who knows where.

“Hey, hey. I’m here my love, I’ve got you.” Your boyfriend’s warm, comforting breath caresses your hair with the utmost tenderness. His embrace tightens slightly as you flinch. “Let’s go home together, okay?”

You nod feebly. An unpleasant headache tenses your skull and one thing is all you need: your home.

Your home is Satoru and his home.

The journey blurs through your eyes. The darkening sky is bleak, as is your mood. A few raindrops splash against the windscreen of Satoru’s car, driving with a certain tension and stiffness in his gestures.

One of his hands is busy driving while the other remains on your thigh, thumb drawing absent circles on the fabric of your pants as his serious gaze alternates between the rear-view mirror and the road ahead. Confronted by your ponderous silence, Satoru doesn’t utter a word, leaving you to curl up in your seat, your temple resting against the icy glass that relieves your headache a little.

In his apartment, the routine continues. Usually, you both shower, eat dinner, go about your university duties — him preparing lectures and correcting papers, and you studying lectures and doing homeworks. But just after the shower he gives up on swallowing anything when you shake your head as he beckons you to question your appetite.

And so, at 9pm, the two of you are curled up in his fresh blankets, your exhausted head resting on his comfortable chest.

He listens for a good hour as you tell him that your research grant has just been rejected — the one for which you’ve sacrificed your sanity, hours of sleep and even your social life to make it as perfect as possible — and that there’s nothing you can do about it. Your tears flood Satoru’s T-shirt as he listens intently, blowing your own nose when your sobs clog it red and runny. He wipes away all your tears, kisses your whole face, your hair, your neck, whispering words of comfort.

“You’re not a failure, love,” he whispers against the shell of your ear as you go silent after getting all your sorrow off your chest. “Just because you were rejected doesn’t mean you failed.”

“I failed,” you insist in a hoarse voice, eyelids closed. “Other people were taken, and I wasn’t. I deserved it, Satoru...”

“You did not.” He kisses your cheek and then your temple. “The person who turned you down may have been unfair, but you didn’t fail. Missing an opportunity doesn’t mean you’re doomed. Missing something doesn’t make the world stop, love.“

The words hit as hard as a punch, but fall as softly as an umpteenth kiss.

“There’s nothing stupid about your project, it’s perfect. It just needs to be seen by the right people.” One of his hands slowly strokes your hair, each finger passing between your strands as he gently detangles them. “You’re capable and brilliant, don’t ever doubt it.”

Your lips — swollen from your earlier tears — moisten again with more silent weeping. Under your weary nod, he sighs softly and adjusts the comforter over you both, making sure it covers you up to the shoulders.

“I love you, remember?” He peppers your head with soft kisses, closing his eyes as he feels you sniffle against his t-shirt. When you nod a second time, he lifts up your chin between his thumb and forefinger to press another slow kiss against your lips.

Your heart flutters by the second. With equal tenderness, you return his kiss, humming to keep from laughing as his hands slide up your torso to tickle you while he steals your breath.

Lips against lips, you feel Satoru’s stretch into a smile at your reaction and he releases you with an even firmer, more reassuring embrace.

“Love you so much, baby.”

“Me too,” you mumble, face buried into his neck.

He sighs, still stroking your hair back and forth while staying silent. In the bedroom, there is no sound. The simple silence of your love, which needs no words to express itself.

~~~~

Early the next morning, Satoru’s eyelids flutter open, bothered by the orange sunbeams that have managed to sneak in between the slats of the blinds at his windows.

His alarm hadn’t gone off yet, which earned him a smile of triumph: a delight — a luxury even — that even the wealthiest like him couldn’t always afford. Waking up before his alarm goes off is one of Satoru’s favorite moments in his life.

He can admire your sleeping face, still savoring oh how comfortable it is to hold you in his big, spoon-shaped arms in bed, how soft the steady sound of your heart beating peacefully in your chest is, or how steady your breath is, like a lullaby to him.

Then, taking advantage of the moment’s peace, he pulls you a little tighter into his arms, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as it drifts from your hair and nestles his chin in the hollow between your shoulder and neck. The warmth of your two hearts is enough to melt him.

He places a gentle kiss on your cheek, close to your jaw.

The action has the immediate effect of waking you up almost involuntarily. Of course, he wants to let you rest before tackling the long day ahead with him, but he also wants to be able to cover you with his love while you’re conscious.

A soft hum escapes your lips and you squirm a little, sticking your back even more to Satoru’s torso for added warmth.

A smile cracks his lips and he holds back a gasp when your ass rubs against his crotch. “Morning, sweetheart,” he manages to whisper close to your ear with a little raspy voice. “Did you sleep well?”

Keeping your eyelids closed, you continue to rub against him, a smile as amused as it is relaxed in his protective arms.

“Mhmmm…”

“What are you doing?” he mumbles, kissing your jaw, fingers creeping up your chin to make you face him.

“Need you,” you pant back, trying to take off the cover lazily because the heat on how turned on you’re getting is choking you, but it’s harder when Satoru is now pressing his mouth against yours with firm kisses.

“You’re losing your mind again, sweetheart?” he mumbles as his lips crash against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth. “Then let me do it twice.”

He helps you free yourself from the comforter and himself at the same time before running his hands up your shirt and pressing his already hard erection against your ass.

For a few seconds, the room is filled with nothing but breaths, a little heavy after the last one, warmer and faster. Sounds of wet kisses and rustling clothes too. Just your two bodies rubbing against each other in search of more until your first moan echoes louder when Satoru decides to play with your breasts, pinching a sensitive nipple under your t-shirt.

The gesture sends a delicious wave of electric pleasure to your crotch. In a reflex stride, you discard your pajama pants for a better sensation of friction, in hope to chase your highest pleasure.

“Oh God, you don’t even have to ask.” And Satoru gets rid of his own pajama pants and leaves himself in just boxers and a T-shirt. This is what he’s been loving in his daily life since you came into his life. Those warm mornings when you let your bodies do the talking for you.

Apart from the thin fabric separating your bodies, there’s nothing to stop you going further, but Satoru likes to savor and tease before tackling the main event. Sliding his palms first over your hot, soft-skinned hips, you take the opportunity to spread your legs without getting out of your spooning position with him, which makes things even hotter.

Access made free, Satoru’s fingers find their way to the wet spot on your underwear. A shiver runs through you, and you freeze, waiting for him to stimulate you in earnest. Slowly, his forefinger moves down your clit, wet with your active arousal. He taps it gently at first, then circles around it, spreading more and more of your juices as much on your core as on the fabric.

“Need me here?” he breathes in your ear, admiring how your face went from a pout to a little parted lips face and eyelids half-closed. “Or here?” He smirks. His index finger glides over your soaked panties to stop at your entrance. “It's pulsing, baby.”

“Need you on both,” you whisper in a breath. Your head is spinning like a dizzy woman drunk on pleasure. Or rather drunk on your boyfriend.

“As I see, I need to relax my girl to fulfill my duty.” He pushes your underwear to the side, and you gasp when his finger finds you, slipping easily between your folds. You moan, grinding into his hand, every nerve alive with the pleasure of his touch. He smirks, moving his fingers just how you like it, circling with precision.

He’s gentle in his gestures, but also teasing. He caresses with tender your most intimate parts — through your sensitive folds, rubbing your clit, and finally sinking a long, thick finger into you. From the last time the two of you had sex, Satoru doubts a second that it was longer ago than expected. Because God, you are so tight.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he whispers, the words sending a jolt of heat through you. He knows how to push your buttons, how to make you feel like you are falling apart in his hands. And you are — completely lost in him, in the moment.

Your walls squeeze his finger as if your life depends on it. He can barely pump at all with how it is sucked.

“Relax, darling, you’re tight.” As if to punctuate his sentence, he places butterfly kisses on the side of your neck, his breath tickling your jaw.

At the end, you obey, breathing out as your muscles unclench. Satisfied, Satoru resumes his activity and pumps his finger deeper into you, the pad looking for the sweet spot that will make you scream his name — as always.

Your moans multiply, little sounds that you try to muffle without much success as Satoru fingers you more and more, reveling in your sounds. A tight little knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a sign that you’re not long for coming.

“Satoru— Ah, ’m close,” you gasp, your hands gripping his wrist and forearm with all your might to keep from losing your head. “I’m—”

But your own cry cuts you off as your orgasm crashes over you, exploding around Satoru’s finger. The latter doesn’t stop yet, keeping it inside while it’s moving in and out of you until you’re dripping all over his knuckles buried deep.

Your breaths contrast, despite the fact that the room temperature feels like it’s risen by ten degrees. Yours is heaviest and fastest, in response to the aftermath of your perfect orgasm. Satoru’s is faster — slightly — due to the fact that he’s getting hotter and hotter by the arousal you’re giving him without doing anything (madly boys in love effect).

Slowly, Satoru withdraws his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth. You wince when he licks them as if they were covered with the most delicious flavor in the world. He punctuates each lick with a suction noise.

“You gross,” you mumble, feeling how weak your legs feel now. You try to sit up, but Satoru is quicker. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you close. “What are you—”

You can feel his cock straining against his boxers, and the sound of his breathing growing heavier against your nape makes your own body ache with anticipation. Satoru’s grip was still soft, but there was an urgency to it now — like he is just as desperate for more as you are.

“Don’t you dare leave me like that, darling,” he threatens with a still playful, dangerous tone. “You’re not done with me yet.”

You swallow thick. Your heart hammers in your ribcage, anticipation coursing through your body like an electric circuit.

“Need you, sweetheart,” he breaths. “May I?”

“Just fuck me already, Satoru,” you mutter, ass grinding against his erection. He hisses, fingers clenching around your hips and waist.

“No fuck today. Love making only.” He peppers small kisses on your warm cheek before taking off his last cloth and guides his hard-rock and painful cock against your dripping slick. The fat head rubs teasingly against your entrance, tempting and enticing to make you ache and lose your mind. At every stroke, your walls squeeze around nothing, begging for something to stretch them.

“Don’t tease— Ah,” you whimper, lowering your hips for more. But it keeps the tip from sinking. So you pout slightly, a cute frowning your eyebrows. “I hate you.”

“Love you more,” he chuckles, still holding his length, brushing off how it’s twitching for you, as wet with pre as you are. “First, you need to say that you need me.”

“Satoru!” you protest.

“You know how I am,” he chortles. You wring your neck to meet his entertained eyes, a gleam of neediness but also frustration in your that turns him even more. “Beg, sweetheart.”

“I need you,” you mumble, your breathing hot brushing his lips.

Fuck.

He mouths, “Where?”

“Inside me.”

“Ask nicely now.”

You sigh in frustration. “I need you inside me now, please.” And to make him fall for you, you blink with your doe eyes, which work every time. “Satoru.”

He parts his lips, entranced by all your features, eyes lost into your soul. Lord, you are the most beautiful woman on the earth.

“Lift your leg for me.” It’s an order. But you happily comply, offering him your leg, every detail of which he worships, and take it under his arm to gain access to your welcoming entrance. When his cock stands there, ready and twitching just at your heat radiating like fire. “Ready?” You nod.

Then, in one smooth motion, he is inside you, and you gasp, your back arching off his back as he stretches you open. Satoru’s mouth finds your neck again, kissing and sucking as his hips begin to move up, slow and deliberate at first, letting you adjust to the feeling of him filling you completely.

“Fuck,” you moan, the stretch of him feeling so right, so perfect, that you can’t help but tighten around him. Satoru groans in response, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he sets a faster pace. One of your hands finds his forearm and holds it like a life preserver from his thrusts that are making the bed creak underneath the two of you, and the other tangles the nearest sheets.

“You’re so tight, so fucking tight,” he murmurs, his voice strained with effort as his thrusts grow harder, more urgent. Your nails dig into his forearm and sheets as you pull him closer, your legs trembling to the rhythm of a crescendo, one trapped because slightly lifted up by Satoru’s arm as you take him deeper.

Every thrust, every movement is a sweet, slow burn that makes your entire body shiver with need. In the wake of his thrusts, Satoru’s lips manage to find yours, kissing you deeply as his hands roam over your body, worshiping you like you are the only thing that matters.

“I love you so damn much,” he mumbles against your swollen lips while another deep slam into you drags you out a cry.

And then, without warning, Satoru shifts, adjusting his angle just enough to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You gasp, your back arching off his back again as your body trembles before his.

He smirks against your lips. “Found it,” he whispers.

You can’t form words — only moans and gasps as he repeats the movement, his cock hitting that sweet, perfect spot with each thrust. Your nails dig into his back as you feel your body tightening, the pressure building in your core.

Satoru’s pace never faltered, his thrusts deep and relentless as he took you closer and closer to the edge. His breath was ragged in your ear, his fingers digging into your hips, and you could hear the sound of skin slapping together, the wet sounds of your bodies moving in sync.

“You feel so good, baby” he groans, his voice strained. “Don’t hold back.”

You can’t stop it — can’t stop the way your body reacts to him. The way the pressure in your core is building, until you are teetering on the edge of something incredible. Satoru’s name escapes your lips in a breathless cry, and that’s enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm hits hard, your entire body shaking as the wave of pleasure consumes you.

Satoru doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his hips not stopping rutting up against yours and his hands never leaving your leg up and hip as he continues to chase his own release. He’s close, so close, and you can feel it in the way his thrusts grew sloppier, the way his breath hitches in your ear.

With a final, deep thrust, he cums, filling you completely with a groan that sends a wave of satisfaction through your own body. You both stay laid down for a moment, catching your breath, still glued together as you slowly come down from the high.

You turn over painfully on the bed to face him, his member still softening inside you. Your limbs are still trembling from the intense physical activity, and Satoru takes the opportunity to pull you even closer by the waist. His forehead rests against yours, his hands gentle on your hips as he pulls out slowly, making you whimper at the loss.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he kisses your forehead.

You smile, still breathless, but feeling that delicious satisfaction spread through you. “Another round before heading off to uni?” you tease, your fingers lightly tracing his chest.

“We’ll be late, you know?” He traces the contour of your face with the tip of his fingers and pecks a kiss from time to time.

“Maybe my professor won’t blame me this time, will he?”

“You little spoiled princess,” he snorts, pressing another kiss on your nose. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You smirk. “And you’re so lucky to have me.”

“I will never deny that.”

a/n: hellooooo!! how are you guys? 🥹 first, i’m sorry for my inactivity :(( i’ve been busy with school and all (+ i wasn’t ovulating lol). i wrote this little part 1 because i was frustrated about a competion i lost (law will make you cry your soul, trust me). also sorry for the little angst, i can’t help myself lmao. i hope you enjoyed this and see you soon!

likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

for the tag list, i’ll try to add more ppl when i’ll have the time, i’m sorry in advance for those who came after i temporary closed it <3 you’ll be tagged for the next part for sure :) if you want to be tagged, pls put your age in bio and ask here.

tag list: @izumkay , @lostfracturess , @nariminsstuff , @superdonkeypatroleggs , @0hisu , @iheartgojoo66 , @cax-per , @not-aya , @petalsrdead , @kimkimoruo , @indiewritesxoxo , @paolarox01 , @reverrieee , @billiondollarworth , @myahfig4 , @lilac-witch , @markliving , @sukunaslilsocks , @hyori2 , @lilychan176 , @yvesdoee , @redbambii , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @princess-bblgm , @oh-my-god-donald , @etsuniiru , @ethereal-moonlit , @lymsfm , @mutsu422 , @bearwithmoo , @chiiiiiichan , @ziggy0stardust , @purplegemadventures , @shibataimu , @chich1ookie , @c-moon20-12 , @cyrenees , @tbzzluvr , @kimvmarvel , @leabyjulia , @flowerpot113 , @luvvcho , @nanaosaki3940 , @rriwyu , @heybeebax , @satorugojoisamenace , @euhphoq , @aleviia , @hellowoolf , @petalshxwer , @gojo-caturo , @ssrist , @winniethepooh-lover , @kiriyue , @your-mum3000 , @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 , @satorusmochis

[biscuityskies]

JEEEEEYAYSUS!!!!!!! STEP ASIDE BEN I AM ALSO CHEWING ON HIM LIKE A SQUEAKY TOY DEAR LORD

“‘And do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on,’” Cody breathes, finishing the line. “Fuck.”  

PhD student Cody from @biscuityskies’s UNREAL vampire Obi-Wan AU fic (link below)

what dreams may come (13401 words) by biscuitysguise Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

This fic literally has everything!!!

Ref under cut

[bloodchapell]

raven — senku i.

brief summary: just goth!reader x senku

what to expect: goth reader, all lowercase, i have no idea what i am talking about chemistry wise but have actual sources, modern au

your sword's note: i keep seeing in tiktok someone ship kohaku and hyoga so this goes for them lmaoao, also i love kirisame so much that i will write for her in this same au, more on my mistresslist

beside you, senku was mixing chemicals that weren't even provided by the class, he just brought his own. you noticed that his free strands of hair kept falling on his face and he almost dissolved them twice already.

"here." you took a bat hairpin from your hair and secured the strands so they didn't fly free. he thanked you and keeps his eyes fixed on the glass on his hands.

since he was assigned to be your lab partner, he keeps looking at your makeup and appearance in general in awe, but he hasn't said anything. at least he didn't have to be partners with taiju, but he is not sure how much of an upgrade that is, at least he could chitchat with his friend before.

"did you balance the equation already?" you ask and he shakes his head. you slide your notebook to his side and he sees a clean bunch of notes in your script that looks out of a victorian newspaper and at the end the correct answer. he looks baffled.

"are you secretly a nerd or something?" he asks and you shake your head, your v shaped bangs only moving slightly.

"no, i am openly one." you say leaning close to him just to spooke him. he laughs.

"then see yourself to this." he writes down something in your notebook and you look at it for a moment.

"this is a polar covalent bond." you tell him and he nods. he explains that it is the formula for the bunch of chemicals he is mixing. "so sulfur dioxide."

soon he is talking about chemistry and you agree to what you know and pay attention to what you don't. he asks you if you like chemistry and you nod, telling him that you might major in chemistry later on.

"are you trying to outdo the teacher somehow?" you whisper but he didn't answer, at least not verbally. the erlenmeyer flask on his hand erupting in some unknown substance that immediately expelled a smell, the smell of a match that was just struck. by that point in his career, the teacher has given up when senku outdo's him in his own class.

"you should join the science club." he mentions casually and you deny.

"i would, but i have other activities." you say taking the lab coat off once the class is over, organizing your hair and your necklace with a ruby that you always seem to wear, he keeps it on.

"what activities can be more exciting than science?"

"banging some drums." you say. senku notices that when you talk you move your hands a lot. he likes it. "i am in a band."

for some reason unknown to both of you, he keeps trying to bribe you into joining the science club, and finally suggests to attend one of your presentations in exchange for you checking out if you like the club. you laughed, being well aware of his eccentric personality even when you knew him from a short time.

"whatever, but hey, you won't like it." you shrug warning him in advance but he is determined.

during lunch, senku learns from taiju that you are friends with him and yuzuriha. taiju narrates how he and yuzuriha had seen you being "bullied" by some girls and they were going to step in to help you until they noticed you slipping a few mints from your bag on the soda you had just bought and bathing the girls with the explosion. taiju says that you remind him of senku somehow.

after school, you pass by the lab, keeping your promise.

“i actually hate our school uniform so much, the coat helps.” you mention when senku passes a lab coat to you.

“tie your hair, you don’t want it dissolving.” senku points to the bat hairpin that is still securing his strands and you smile at him. you tie your hair loosely. he is doing some unknown experiment like always and you pay attention to him with a lot of interest. “so what kind of music does your band play?”

“deathrock, occasionally hardcore.” you say giving him a beaker full of a mysterious liquid when he points at it. you didn't expect him to know what it is, and he doesn't. "what deadly experiment are you making now?"

"crystal candy." he takes out a little skewer from one of the glass dishes.

"woah, senku white." you clap and he shakes his head laughing.

"crystal candy, not crystal meth." he gives you one of the candies and you eat it. "ravens like shiny things, so i figured i might do this."

"raven is a compliment, you know?"

"10 billion percent i do."

you can't help but laugh. after hanging out a little more in the lab, you tell him you have to leave for practice and he says he might as well walk with you. during the walk, inevitably you ask him about his hair and he doesn't have any answers for you.

"i like putting my hair up." you say playing with your hair while walking outside of school. senku laughs and helps you putting it up but it doesn't stay up for long so you resort to organizing it back down. once you are at the door of the studio, you take out a sticky note, write on it and place it in his chest. "text me, don't be boring."

he does, and you reply once you are out of practice. you text each other all night, and the next day at school you spend lunch together. the conversation oscillates around chemistry, but he eventually asks about you.

"bela lugosi's dead by bauhaus is said to be the first gothic song ever." you mention after a quick rundown of goth history.

"who is bela lugosi?"

"no way... oh my god no wayyyyy." a clear reference to south park's michael that he doesn't get either. so after school you drag him with you. your house is odd looking, that is the first thing he notices, you tell him that is a brutalist construction of your mother's design as an architect and construction by your dad as an engineer. upon entering, you guide him to the basement where your room is. beside the clear decorations that account for a beyond-the-grave vibe, his eyes focus on the drum set on a corner. "we are watching 1931's dracula."

you turn off the lights and sit on the floor, playing the movie on the projector. senku sits beside you and watches the movie, paying attention to your annotations on the film. after watching the movie, you continue explaining the relevance of bela lugosi.

"so how did you become goth?" he asks and you can't help but laugh, you look through some papers on a drawer and take out a picture, a man and a woman pose with a familiar spooky face.

"my parents." you tap on the paper. "authentic trad goths."

"hereditary, i see." his remark makes you laugh. as he gives you the photograph back, he scans the books in the shelf, a lot of poe, shelly, lovecraft, those accompanied by books on chemistry and science fiction, and besides the books there are little jars with wet specimens and some bones. "what about those odd things there?"

"oh i made those." walking over to the shelf you pick a random one and hand it to him. "put the specimen on the jar, put some formaldehyde for about a week and then change it for isopropyl alcohol and it has been laying there since."

"is this like a casual hobby?" he asked taking a look at the jar.

"casual but safe." you pointed to the respirator mask on the floor. he nodded in approval.

he stayed around the rest of the day and you talked about anything and everything, going over what field of chemistry you prefer and his questions about the goth subculture. when it gets dark and the little window of the basement doesn't let in more light, you light up red candles and keep talking until someone barges in your room.

"i made some carrot cake, will you have some?" your father asks and you both turn around to look at him. senku immediately compared him in his mind to the picture you showed him earlier, but now the man looked like a regular adult. "well well, look what the bat brought."

"dad you are ruining my life!" you groan in annoyance and he leaves, only to come back with two slices of carrot cake.

"so what is your name? what are your intentions?" your dad sat in the floor besides the two of you and smiled through his questions. you hide your face in your arms but senku replies with his name, before he can say you are simply friends, your dad chimes in again. "ishigami like byakuya ishigami?"

"yes, that's my old man."

"what a surprise! mom and i went to school with him, you hear that my little egregore? we actually despised him because he was so cheerful but i secretly wanted to be his friend."

despite your embarrassment, you can't help but smile when you hear senku laughing, agreeing that it sounds like his dad. they talk some more agreeing that whenever byakuya is back from space, they can meet to catch up.

senku left your house once the clock hit 9, but once he is home you two keep texting. he doesn't want to admit it but he feels fascinated about you, not only out of fellowship for the shared love for chemistry but also out of his curiosity for your personality and appearance.

the next day goes like usual, you meet during chemistry class and like always senku outdoes the teacher. you pass by the lab during lunch and scare him after checking that he isn't holding some dangerous substance on a beaker.

"guess what?" you ask and he shrugs without any idea, so you pass him a paper with your approved application for the science club.

"this is excellent news, a competent addition to this madhouse." he smiles pleased and quickly you both get to tinkering with the equipment. "i am working on this gasoline I made out of plastic."

"did you desulfurize it?" you ask and he shakes his head, his heart skipping a beat at the chemical question. "for the sweetening we need wash the naphtha with amine, it needs to be low-boiling, then make it react with caustic. the first thing removes the hydrogen sulphide and the second helps with converting mercaptans to disulfide."

"exactly that." senku nods reaching for the beaker full of gasoline and the other one full of amine. "the hydrotreating part will be more challenging but we can take care of that later on."

you two get to work, he passed you a lab coat and after putting it on you tie your hair. he put the naphtha to boil at a low temperature and then had you wash it with the amine. the rest of the club members watch. it is a slow and delicate process, but you are done before the bell rings and you celebrate happily before returning to class.

after a few weeks of you going to the lab during lunch and after school, you leave when the classes are over. senku immediately notices, and despite the mockery of the fellow members of the club at his fussiness over your absence and his denial of even caring or even knowing who you are at that —exaggerated king—, he still sneaks out to the hallway and texts you.

raven: i am rehearsing silly, we have a show on saturday. 4:09pm

he sighed and walked back in the lab. he had forgotten about it even when you kept talking about the show your band was about to have. he made a reminder in his phone, and went back to work. during that week you didn't stay after school in the lab and he started to notice the lack of your presence, missing even the scares you would make sure to give him when walking in.

"are you nervous?" senku asked, saturday morning, sitting in the floor of your room while you did your makeup in the vanity.

"not that much, i am all the way in the back, privileges of being the drummer." you shrugged while drawing your eyeliner. out of all the outfits he had seen you wear, and your own goth rendition of the school uniform, that one was the ultimate, and made you look like a villain from a video game; he couldn't take his eyes away. senku kept evaluating your appearance, from your makeup that you were still doing, to your hair now puffed and teased, to your tall black boots.

"ruri and kirisame are here." your mom announced before letting the girls in. while one looked just as villainous as you, the other one was a blonde angel dressed all in white.

"these are my bandmates, ruri is the keyboardist and vocalist and kirisame is the guitarist. our bassist will be there on his own." you introduced them.

senku greeted both girls, while ruri waved happily, kirisame simply nodded and ignored the rest. once you are done with your makeup, your mom brings some food you all eat. you go over the songs and things about the band and senku simply listens, not knowing the terms you are using but inferring what they are about. and finally after some time, your parents call you to go to the car. senku noticed that both of your parents had switched to look more like the photo of them young so he asked to take a picture to show to his dad.

the venue was half empty when you arrived, only the other members of the bands and some people. you set the drum set, ruri tested the mic and kirisame adjusted her amp. senku watched how your parents took out a professional camera and snapped a few photos.

"so why are you here?" a voice distracted him, he turned around to see a guy his age sitting besides him. "you don't look like you belong here either."

"just a deal. you?" senku asked.

"my girlfriend is the vocalist. my name is chrome." proudly he said.

while everything was being set up, chrome told senku all the details. you knew ruri from music lessons and you two formed the band, she introduced the bassist, hyoga, who is her sister kohaku's boyfriend, and kirisame came from craigslist. eventually they ended up talking about minerals, but the show started. when chrome told senku to go to the front so they could see better, was when he realized how full the place was. the other band played first, so you stood besides senku, chrome and your bandmates, who aside from hyoga —who already got there—, were dancing to the music; you joined them in due time, swaying your arms in the air at the rhythm of the music.

"we are better than them." you whispered to senku between songs and he laughed immediately.

once their set was over, your band started. curiously, senku recognized the first song to be a cover of in darkness you will feel alright by horror vacui —despite his regular nonchalance, he noted down both genres you told him and checked some bands out, just so he wasn't completely clueless—, so recognizing the song made him feel good. the next songs were originals, and despite that the public enjoyed them just as much, dancing in the same odd way. senku's gaze, though, remained fixed on you, on the way you played the drums and how your head moved to the beat you were playing, the focused expression and the precise movements at hitting the drums.

"so?" you asked holding the rundown drumsticks in your hands once your set was over.

"that was really good, i am impressed." senku praised in an understatement. you smiled and he smiled back.

the next band played and at some point you grabbed senku's hands and made him dance, he frowned but didn't push you away, secretly enjoying it and realizing that ruri was doing the same with chrome who tried his best to dance but couldn't quite do it.

...

byakuya came back from space, and then came back from the u.s. senku refused to pick him up from the airport and you called him heartless. it was during the weekend so you were over at senku's house helping him in his latest project. he initially had also invited taiju and yuzuriha but since the confession by the tree they would have a date every sunday so they couldn't come.

"is anyone homeee!?" a voice broke in between the noises of senku's rant on his rocket, after a few seconds, the door opened and both of you looked up to see the man. you stood up to greet him, senku avoided his hug but he seemed really happy. "hello, and... you are?"

senku introduced you, not failing to pull up the photo he took of your parents and mentioning who they were.

"is like being back at school!" the man exclaimed. "what a time."

senku and byakuya caught up for a good while. after a some hours and eating lunch, at byakuya's odd enthusiasm and your confirmation that your parents were home, you all went to your house.

"if it is not the class clown!" your dad exclaimed once the door opened, byakuya seeming equally excited. they started talking immediately, your mom joining. senku and you stood listening to the stories of your parents and their school time for a little but got bored and left downstairs.

lately you had tried to teach senku how to play the drums but he was too bad at it so you both gave up, so instead you sat on the floor and started listening to music while talking about your childhoods, senku starting with his fascination for science and you with yours for the obscure and odd.

"i am skipping school on wednesday to go to a concert, let's go together." you suggested and senku agreed. on monday and tuesday you both worked in the lab, finishing hydrotreating the gasoline so it could be fuel to the rocket, and on wednesday, instead of going to school, senku walked to your house in the morning. he rang the bell but no one opened, so he rang again and after some time you opened the door, still in your pajamas, your hair messy but not in the usual way.

"i thought we were going to the concert."

"yes but later." you laughed and let him in. clearly you were still sleeping so you organized your room a little and cooked some breakfast, after eating you walked back to your room and he followed, sitting on the bed since the weather was getting colder as fall started, he sat besides you and you put a movie. at some point you were going to pause the movie to explain something to him, but when looking for the controller your hand brushed his. immediately your eyes met and then turned to look away. "well the chemistry is around..."

your joke broke the awkwardness and he laughed immediately. you explained your point and played the movie, not speaking about it, knowing there was no white foundation covering your blush.

the morning was slow, but eventually you started getting ready.

"can i put makeup on you?" suddenly you asked, halfway through your own makeup.

"no, i am perfect like this." his response made you laugh, but you asked again and he gave in, so you stood up from the vanity with a black eyeliner, walking over to your bed where he was sitting looking at his phone, you grabbed his face and tilted it upwards, ready to put some eyeliner under his eyes but you kept looking at his intense crimson gaze, and instead leaned in for a kiss, it was quick and you backed up fast.

"sorry..." you apologized turning around but he grabbed your wrist.

"i thought the lipstick was the last step." senku mentioned, having seen you do your makeup in an order that left the lips for the end. he turned you around. "what? my eyes reminded you of some shiny stone like this one?" he grabbed your necklace, but you stayed silent and wide-eyed, so he stood up and methodically pulled you in for another quick kiss.

"well i somehow expected it." you smile sheepishly still holding the eyeliner.

"ravens are very smart birds." senku shrugged and sat back as if nothing happened, and you sigh shaking your head happy and clean his black-stained lips with a wipe and apply some eyeliner under his eyes, like nothing happened too.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

So what about a genius hero x street smart villain, maybe hero is a little awkward from being in the lab all the time but villain makes up for it by being able to pick up on hero’s body language? Kinda alone the lines of “they didn’t correct you to insult you, they were trying to be helpful”?

"Can you walk?"

"Y-yes, of course," the hero answered. But the villain wasn't fooled that easily. Obviously, they noticed the white-knuckled grip and the pale face. They noticed the unsteady gaze and the shaking hand. The five coffee mugs.

"I didn't bring you here to work yourself to death," the villain said. they crossed their arms in front of their chest, attempting to sound soothing.

It could be quite challenging to guess the hero's feelings. Kidnapping someone to work for them wasn't exactly...a promise for good cooperation. It wasn't ideal either but the villain barely knew what an Erlenmeyer flask was and they really needed the hero to research the disease.

"Being careless could cost you your life. This is pretty dangerous. If this virus can kill people with superpowers, I don't want to know what it can do to us."

"The average human immune system can destroy the virus, don't worry," the hero said. They closed their eyes and took in a deep breath. "People with superpowers are flawed, though. Their bodies need to come up with a lot of energy to conjure superpowers. Specialized cells create a nearly independent system on their own. But, you know, some parts of the body - of the vessel - don't get as much energy as they need. Organs are important, so...immune system it is. That's why a bunch of kids with superpowers die. There is barely any information on it yet, though."

"Do you need more...specimen?"

"No. No, I..." The hero pressed a palm against their temple. They looked angry, they looked frustrated. The villain supposed not getting proper sleep for days was an explanation for that.

"Okay, that's enough, I think."

"I am fine," the hero insisted.

"You are not fine." The villain took a step towards them. "I know you are working on this so you can find a way to kill supervillains, not superheroes. But right now the only person you are close to killing is yourself."

"What would you know about my work? I am fine, I am doing amazing."

The villain reached out to touch the hero's shoulder but the hero slapped their hand away weakly.

They knew the hero wasn't...particularly good with other people. Especially, when it came to work. For the most part, the villain understood why but they could barely understand why they insisted on working hard enough to forget basic self-care. It seemed like brilliance demanded stubborness.

"You're right. I don't know much about your work, but I do know a lot about behaviour. And your behaviour is unacceptable."

"Unacceptable? How dare-"

The villain grabbed their chin, shutting up the hero. They took a step forward, forcing the hero to press their lower back into the table.

The proximity surprised even the villain - they hadn't realised the hero was this close to the table.

And this close to the villain.

"Alright, listen," the villain said. Their voice was dangerously low. "Right now, I am your boss and you will do as I say. If I tell you to rest, you will rest. If I tell you to eat, you will eat. I don't care if you want to work 20 hours a day or if you want to finish one more test. I decide how much you work, got it?"

The villain's fingers dug into the hero's cheeks softly and they smiled when the hero frowned at that.

"You don't want me to start threatening you, do you?"

The hero rolled their eyes and then they just stared at the villain. Stared with those curious and tired eyes, as if the villain was another experiment they were interested in.

"You're actually quite adorable," the villain said. They squeezed the hero's cheeks again for good measure. "You can have my bed."

The villain let go of them and the hero blinked a few times. A soft blush decorated their face. And for some strange reason, the villain felt really warm and...satisfied inside.

"What about you?" the hero asked.

"I will take the couch."

"Absolutely not. Do you know how many bacteria colonies are on a couch?" They turned away from the villain and slowly started cleaning their workplace with shaky hands.

"Believe me, I will survive."

"Fine." The hero shrugged. "Your funeral."

"You're making this up, aren't ya?" The hero turned towards the villain again and even their ears had turned red.

"Do I look like I would lie about that sort of stuff?" they asked but they didn't meet the villain's eyes. It was quite funny but the villain didn't know if it was supposed to be a joke.

Usually, the hero only acted sassy when someone criticised their work, when they got annoyed or when they got embarrassed.

The villain guessed the latter was happening.

But whatever was the catalyst, it seemed like the hero was willing to rest and that was all the villain truly wanted.

"Ah, screw it." The villain waved with their hand, still smiling. "My bed is big enough for two, anyway."

"It, uh, better be."

[s-nebul0sa]

Lena injures herself in the lab and requires stitches. Kara gets the call and goes into a worried frenzy and rushes to Lena’s side. As Kara dotes on her as Lena gets the stitches, Lena plays it off that it’s just a scratch and child’s play and starts brainstorming new tech for instances that requires stitches. Typical genius CEO and golden retriever gal story with fluff and romance 😄

Stitches

(Read below or on AO3)

The pain does not immediately register. The erlenmeyer flask that was in Lena’s hand just a moment ago has exploded into at least a hundred pieces. One of which liked Lena’s hand so much that it want to be inside it.

Flabbergasted, Lena stares at the offending piece of glass jutting out from her skin. Red welling up along its edges and slowly forming rivers down, dripping on the floor to mix with the solution that was previously contained inside the flask.

Shit.

At least there does not seem to be any glass in her face or anywhere else in her body. Her hand has a few small scrapes but those are just flesh wounds. Instinctively, Lena lifts her hand so it’s at head-height and both above her heart and her elbow, a trick used to slow down bleeding.

With practiced eyes, Lena scans the laboratory for any other glass pieces that might pose a future risk. There are some dangerous materials stored here, and though they should be locked away in safety boxes, it would not be the first time that someone made a mistake and left something out.

She does not notice anything that should not be out. Most of the glass is on the floor, either having hit nothing or having hit the hard wall and work bench and made their way down from there. Nothing to worry about.

Well, except that one piece stuck in her hand.

And now that she has determined there are no other threats, she starts to worry about herself. Lena never does well when she worries about herself.

With trembling hands, she wrestles with the end of her lab coat to get her phone out of her jean pocket. She almost loses, but determination wins. With her left thumb hovering over the screen, Lena thinks of what to do. This is not a 911 situation. There is just a little blood, not a lot. And it is not that bad.

Part of her just wants to fix it herself. Drive herself to a doctor or even just stitch up herself. But for the latter, she has neither the skill nor the steady hand at the moment. And the former seems like a very bad idea with only one hand functional and the other having glass sticking out of it. If she were to make one wrong move, the glass might be pushed further into her hand and do even more damage. Lena breathes out deeply.

Okay, first things first.

She tests her right hand. Carefully, she tries moving each finger and seeing if she can still feel them. They all seem to function as well as can be expected, so that is a relief. Hopefully no really deep damage. Or nerve damage, the worst kind.

With that settled, she focusses back on her phone. Debating for a minute whether she should worry her girlfriend, she ends up deciding Kara will be even more worried – or worse, hurt – if she does not call her immediately.

She pulls up Kara’s contact information and presses dial, then clamps the phone between her ear and shoulder. Lena walks over to the sink as she waits for Kara to pick up.

Kara answers quickly. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m okay but can you come pick me up and fly me to the DEO or the emergency room?” Lena asks casually, as she slowly takes off her lab coat. Thankfully, the piece in her hand is not so big that her hand no longer fits through her sleeve.

“What?!” Lena hears the worry in Kara’s voice through the phone followed by the telltale whoosh of Kara taking off in flight.

“I may have gotten slightly cut in the lab and probably need some stitches but it’s nothing life threatening,” Lena says in an attempt to take away Kara’s worry. Not that she feels like it is working. Lena turns back to the sink and cautiously washes her hands, carefully applying soap and hissing as it stings in the cut.

“Lab left or right?” Kara asks as Lena picks up that the wind has stopped ringing in Kara’s microphone. She must have landed.

“Left, but wait outside. I’m just going to finish washing my hands and I’ll meet you there.”

She hardly gets a chance to get some paper towels to dry her skin before the laboratory door flies open.

“Wait outside?!” Lena hears Kara yell both through the phone and the open door.

Lena looks up at her girlfriend, worry etched in her eyes. The crinkle between her brows even more pronounced than when Lena beat her at chess that one time.

“Yes, wait outside. This is a lab, Kara,” Lena scolds, but she cannot keep it up for long and walks to the safety of the superhero.

“Lena, that looks painful,” Kara points out when she notices the glass in Lena’s hand.

“That is why you need to fly me to someone who can fix it,” Lena responds, locking the door behind her when they leave. She will have to get her spill cleaned up later. She was not working with anything dangerous today so the biggest risk is posed by the broken glass and it is Friday evening and her personal lab so she has plenty of time to make sure it is cleaned up. Nobody is allowed in there without her explicit permission anyway.

(The whole story was too long, so the second half is in my next reblog.)

[fraugwinska]

Part 2 of the Alchemist series - No smut today,but I had this idea in my head and couldn't continue NOT writing it. And don't worry - those two will have time enough in Part 3 for some biological studies! :> TW: Emotional turmoils, Graphic depictions of torture and violence Read at your own discretion. As always minors - please exit to the right, DNI, this is an 18+ space

Your assistant flinched when you threw another rack of test tubes against the walls, the black, polished tiles to your feet covered in shards of glass and bubbling, oil-like liquids.

"M-Ma'am, please, ", she pleaded, kneading the pink, naked tail that peeked out of her lab coat nervously in her hands while she backed away as your grabbed the big Erlenmeyer flask still sitting over the bunsen burner, fizzing as if in mockery. "i-it's better than number 52. Isn't that progress...?"

Failed. Again, you had failed.

"Idiots call it progress...", You held the flask up, cold flames of renewed anger licking down your spine. "I call it A FUCKING DISGRACE!"

The rat demon squeaked when the glass crashed on the floor as you howled in frustration, the black gas that evaporated with a hiss and the dark purple flames the substance evoked enough to make her run out the door and out of the laboratory with a sob, the sound of her heels clicking in the hallway a grim farewell and final goodbye to a fairly good assistant.

You slumped back against a work bench and put your hands in the pockets of your coat, struggling with your breathing to calm down. The painful hunger in you scratched at your insides, this insatiable need that appeared ever since...

Ever since you returned to your laboratory that day, ever since your last encounter with the Radio Demon. The image of Alastor and his shadow flashing up in front of you. How you were deceived and subdued by him, outsmarted by him and most humiliating, how you had liked it. It should've left nothing but disdain and anger inside you, instead it left an aching want, a restless desire for filling the gaping hole of knowledge you had been faced with as well as your paradox craving for another fight ending inevitably into your submission. Defiant to do something about the latter, you had begun to at least try to satisfy the first.

You were usually okay with failure as part of the scientific progress. A failed experiment only meant an additional tool in your hand on your surefire way to success. But never did success seem so impossible to you. Every new try of recreating the shadows that had so efficiently overpowered you felt like a rerun of your previous one. You had exhausted your knowledge, rewritten the same hypotheses over and over and burned through five assistants since. These angry outbursts were so unlike you - but as the number of failed experiments rose so did your temper, and the higher your anger, the harder it became to concentrate.

Alastor haunted your mind, infiltrated your rationale with images of a teasing smile, flesh threatening to burst beneath black and sharp claws, burning red eyes staring at you from the wet heat of your core. You hadn't eaten in two weeks, hadn't slept in nearly as long, had spent all your waking hours locked away in here in a futile attempt of fleeing these emotions that were so obstructive to your work. You were obsessively reading your books, furiously rereading your notes, desperately starting test after test, trial after trial to try and satiate this thirst only to be left even more parched. You knew it wouldn't be long before you inevitably would have to drink, even if you knew it waould be poison.

"I can't go on like this..." you sighed into the deafening silence of your laboratory.

There was a certain pep in the Radio Demon's step as he walked through the streets of the Pentagram, humming to himself as sinners parted and hid away wherever he went. Alastor reached into the inside breast pocket of his overcoat, unfolding the little note that had sent him in high spirits and rereading it with impish glee.

'To: The Radio DemonRegarding: Our most recent encounter

Alastor, I hope this note will find you well. I'd like to discuss the possibility of a mutually beneficial arrangement regarding our personal and professional feud. If you agree to a meeting, a table at RAUM in the Entertainment District will be reserved tomorrow at 9 p.m. PST (Pride Standard Time)

Best Regards,The Alchemist'

He laughed to himself at the forced choice of words, the tenseness evident in every neatly drawn letter and the obvious refusal of showing even one hint of familiarity. He had known he'd just have to give the proverbial ball a little nudge - his little note so easily snuck into her lab coat by his shadow companion - and let it roll, patiently waiting long enough to see it finally crush the prideful, stubborn resistance of the little sinner known as The Alchemist in the end. Although, he had to admit it took longer than he had expected.

His spies had been useful in keeping track of her ego crumbling - the chimp, roach and gerbil sinners that she hired as assistants all painted him the same picture - that the poor woman descended more and more into restless obsession by trying day and night to solve the mystery of his shadowy companion. The last one of her henchmen, a meek little rat girl, added a curious detail to the usual report that had Alastor's self-confidence booming: That, on the rare occasion that she fell asleep on her workbench, the Alchemist seemed to writhe and whimper - calling out a name.

His name.

He could hear it, her voice, the usual dismissive contempt replaced with poorly repressed desire and urgency, breathing his name while rendered helpless and at the mercy of his hands and tongue. What a rush it had been, to see his rival and latest person of interest fall apart under his doing, breaking her stoic and methodical facade to reveal the raw and weak creature she was deep down. What a divine image, seeing the haughty, refractory Alchemist beneath him, squirming and gasping and panting beneath his touch that she begged for, seeing and feeling her whole body turn against her, reduced to a groaning heap. How delicious it had tasted, not just her, but the satisfaction in knowing he'd forever carry the taste of her and his victory.

But when the moment approached to end her, to finally wipe her off the face of hell, it spoiled in his mouth, turning from sweet into bitter. He had planned it to be his grand finale: To kill her after showing her blatant inadequacy compared to him, bound by his shadow and thoroughly humiliated - But he found himself unable to.

Rosie was the only one he told about that day, and her reply to his retelling had him brooding ever since.

"You know, Alastor - The only difference between hate and love is that hatred doesn't fear the death of the one at our mercy."

He had almost cursed at his oldest friend. The ridiculous idea alone was unsettling. Alastor never had interest in the concept of loving something or someone - he had felt no need to either. The methods he used were chosen due to this wretched urge he felt every time she had crossed his path. He hadn't been unfamiliar with these emotions stirring in him - but the intensity of them had him struggle, had him furious at the effect she had on everything that made him the powerful, ruthless overlord that he had become. To think this unhealthy fascination with her powers, how riled up and agitated he got just seeing her in her resulote disinterest in power or status, the joy he felt sparring with her as she held her fort against him had been anything other than feelings of rivalry. But hell had a habit of twists like this - that what he thought was hatred turned out just the opposite. He still wasn't certain how he'd handle this predicament, but her note had been the perfect catalyst to explore the potential this little change held for him.

Just as the clock tower of Pride's main city began to strike nine, his destination so close - Something wrapped around his ankles and wrists, and hadn't Alastor been so lost in his thoughts he would've had enough time and mind to dodge the cables that had slithered towards him. A second too late he realized just what building he was in front of, before he was violently dragged by the electrified strings, out of the street and into the darkness behind the blue sliding doors of 'VoxTech Enterprises'.

"I thought" he heard a familiar, suave voice resounding in the pitch black darkness around him as the doors slid close, dripping of malicious glee that had Alastor furious behind his smiling mask "that with old age comes wisdom, Al. Seems you've skipped that phase and went straight to senile."

Alastor heard Vox's laugh, amplified from every direction. His hands and feet were spread apart, leaving him hanging with no sense of direction or solid ground beneath him. Without light, summoning his shadow was a useless endeavor - one of the only things Alastor regrettably shared with what was once a trusted partner not too long ago. And the only light was the laughably negligible red glow of his eyes, losing the battle against the black void around him. His best bet was to be buying time, so he decided to humor the fool until chance would show itself.

"Ah, no, I do quite remember your lack of imagination when it comes to these sorts of affairs." Alastor chuckled, a slight static distortion lacing his voice as the anger within him grew. "Glad to see that's at least one thing that hasn't changed."

Electricity burst from the wires that pulled him even further apart, sending shockwaves through him as Alastor's smile widened at Vox's inability to hide his rage.

"Mighty cocky for someone who's got his ass on the line, eh, old pal?" in the distance, a screen turned on, dim and flickering, showing the face of the smirking tv demon. "Tell me, Al, was it just stupidity that brought you right to my doorstep? Or did you already miss me that much?"

Alastor laughed mockingly, concentrating enough to at least create a shadow in the weak light around Vox's screen to smash it in before it dsappeared. "If I recall correctly, you were the one begging me not to leave, Voxxy. How is your face these days, by the way?"

The screen flickered as Vox's eyes went wild. "You motherf-"

"As to what brought me to these parts of our illustrious city," Alastor continued, gritting his teeth as another surge of electricity shot down his spine, making his shoulders jerk painfully in the tight cable's grip. "I was on my way to meet someone who is actually worth my while."

"Oh yeah? Well, they can send me a Thank-You-Note for saving them the disappointment your 'while' would've brought them." Vox sneered, a mocking smile appearing on the broken screen as he bared his teeth in a snarl. "Face it - You're done, Al. Finished. You can't do shit in here. I created this room specifically for you to die in - thanks for the intel, by the way. And believe me - I could kill you here and now, get rid of a fucking nuisance for everybody, and be called a hero for it. But for old time's sake, I'll offer you my deal once more." His joints cracked under the pressure of the pulling cables, and Alastor yanked in cold fury at them. Vox's voice was saturated with sadistic glee. "Join my team, be my second in command, my real partner this time and not a fucking uptight coward, and I'll spare you the humiliation of a slow, torturous and publicly viewed dea..."

A sudden boom had the cables and the screen shake and flicker, the image of Vox's face breaking up in pixels. Alastor felt his chest filling with a sudden eager anticipation of what - or who - the source of that explosion might've been. With a hiss, Vox's screen was restored to full resolution again, but his eyes were wide in confusion. "What the fuck was that?"

Alastor's laughter echoed across the room as another, louder explosion followed, along with panicked screams of pain and horror and he smiled over to the shocked overlord, heart beating with feverish euphoria. If the intensity of the detonations were any indicator, he was about to see a marvelous show of what true power looked like.

"It seems, old pal, that my date has arrived."

Vox didn't get to say anything else before one of the walls burst into its components and the room filled with the bright light of the neon signs illuminating the district, and amidst the clouds of dust settling, stood his darling alchemist. Her lab coat was stained in every beautiful shade of red, face and skin smeared with soot and the remnants of blood that wasn't hers, a look in her eyes that was so unhinged it made him shudder with all kinds of arousal, the aura around her glowing in a dangerous toxic green. Although her chest was heaving, there was no trace of exhaustion to her, only pure, cold rage.

"What the hell is going on? And who the fuck are you?!"

She didn't pay Vox any attention, walking up to Alastor as he ripped the remaining bits and pieces of cords and cables from his arms, her heels clacking loudly on the polished concrete floor.

"You are right on time, darling."

"And you were not - our table was canceled." Alastor had to refrain himself from giggling in feverish excitement as she walked past him, towards the stunned television demon that had been thrown into the back of the room by the force of the explosion and now leaned with his back against the wall, his expression mortified behind the cracked, flickering screen.

“Polyethylene, glass, sauter, copper, lead, platinum, silicone." Her voice was cold and calculating, each word a step closer and Vox shrunk away further into the wall behind him. Her face was neutral, a mask devoid of emotion and any trace of empathy or emotion, but her eyes sparkled full of life and fire. "But even though there are so many valuable building blocks in your electronic equipment - I can't say I appreciate the use."

She put her palm over Vox's monitor in an almost comforting gesture, her lips curling into a cruel smile as his casing started to melt and Vox screamed.

"Especially when it leaves me hungry and waiting for my dinner partner."

Alastor marveled at the beauty and precision of her strength and the effortless way she wielded it, her mind calculating every atom of Vox's technology, rendering the presumptous perfection of hell's television and phone industry to a wailing mess, his limbs and body twitching helplessly at the mercy of her touch, screen flickering with increasing speed the more damage she did. His pulse quickened, blood rushed deafeningly loud through his ears - She was dangerous and cruel and she was perfect, she was everything and so, so much more of anything he imagined and hoped her to be.

She let off Vox, his face half gone, his remaining speakers whimpering in agony and body trembling as she stood upright, looking down at the demon in disgust.

"Repeat this mistake and I will make sure I'll be there to slowly and painfully disintegrate you every time you start to respawn anew, Television Demon."

Alastor appeared beside her, making use of his shadows now that the requirement of light was covered, looking at the beaten form of his unfortunate rival with an amused laugh before taking his little alchemist's hand, breathing a kiss onto it with a smile.

"I apologize for the missed reservation, darling, but we can't have you left starving, can we? How about we relocate to my townhouse - I'll whip up a nice Pain Perdu while we discuss your... proposal, yes?"

When her face turned to him, her features slightly softened around the edges - barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but all too obvious to him, who had thought, dreamt and obsessed over her likeness enough times to see every tiny shift in her expression, even those one could interpret as her rare, discreet show of joy.

"I suppose that's an acceptable compromise."

It made the gnawing hunger inside him become all the more insatiable when she let him pull her closer, her hand still in his - warm and stained with remnants of Vox's fluids. He gave her the brightest of smiles as the destroyed room filled with radio static and his shadows swirled and wrapped themselves around them, shooting his wounded, rancorous ex-companion a sneering smile.

"I, again, have to disrespectfully decline your offer, my dear Vox. I'd rather invest my time into more..." He looked back at her, giving her an intense, heated gaze he refused to hide anymore, and the smile lingering on her lips growing into one that was just as sharp as his, and yet so much more endearing given its rarity. "...innovative propositions, I think is the right word."

Within a moment, the black swirls faded into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter and the shuddering, crying mess of the tv overlord behind.

Tagging for scientific purposes (based on comments/reblogs): @minkdelovely @macabr3-barbi3 @depressinglyobsessed @tywrites @mydickisjuicy

@littlebluefishtail @catticora @cosmiccandydreamer @anngray1369 @angeldustharmony

@jurijyuu @liz776 @selenezq

[thanatika]

why does he love manhandling glassware so much that he has a framed illuminated painting of it in his lab. okay buddy keep jacking off your erlenmeyer flask over there.

literally it's giving stock photo. it's giving he opened thanatica and went to Bulk Smart Guy Decor Depot and bought the first thing he saw to decorate the place.

[sephirthoughts]

no one wants to talk about it but there's no escaping the fact that lucrecia and hojo fucked nasty

probably a lot of times

like right on top of the lab equipment, knocking erlenmeyer flasks and petri dishes all over the floor

no one will convince me they weren't kinky-ass freaks

sorry vincent

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Trapdoor Spiders

Fletcher Pratt: i'd like to welcome you all to the first meeting of the No Mildreds Club Mildred Baldwin: hey what are you boys doing in here Pratt: um excuse me Pratt: [pointing at sign] sorry mildred

Pratt: first order of business for the NO MILDREDS Club Pratt: the chair recognizes isaac asimov Isaac Asimov: yes can we change the name? Asimov: its a little on the nose Pratt: well what would you call it? Asimov: how about Asimov: the trapdoor spiders

[meanwhile] Poe: hey did you guys hear about this Trapdoor Spiders club? Poe: seems really exclusive King: whys it called that? Barker: its a sex act Poe: no its not clive Barker: be a lot cooler if it was

King: so what is it? Poe: its a male eating club Barker: haha well i know all about that Poe: no clive it's not that kind of male eating CB Blanchard: i know all about that Poe: it's not that either

King: so it's an exclusive club for boys? Patricia Highsmith: sounds fun. maybe i'll stop by Poe: oh sorry patricia it's men only Highsmith: yeah i think they'll let me in Poe: Poe: yeah i don't know why but that scans Barker: yeah that really does doesn't it? Highsmith: you know, chat with the boys, hang a few laughs, maybe chase a skirt

Franz Kafka: can i join? Poe: King: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Barker: i'm going to tell her Poe: no clive Poe: the prime directive Barker: that's stupid Barker: i'm going to do it

Barker: we need to get into this club King: well gosh clive it's invite only King: and they're sci fi guys King: i don't know that we have any horror guys in that you could ask Dean Koontz: there's theodore sturgeon Barker: why yes Barker: there IS theodore sturgeon Barker: dean, you're a genius Koontz: i helped :)

Theodore Sturgeon: [wearing lab coat, holding erlenmeyer flask] behold it is i Sturgeon: theodore sturgeon Sturgeon: critical thinker and seeker of knowledge Sturgeon: excelsior!

Barker: hey theo Barker: i wanna ask a favor Sturgeon: speak, fellow science fan!

Barker: so Sturgeon: [scribbling equations on chalkboard] silence, clive! i'm almost at a break-through Sturgeon: soon, if my calculations are correct Sturgeon: i shall soon perfect Sturgeon's Revelation Sturgeon: or perhaps even Sturgeon: Sturgeon's law

Barker: Barker: yeah so anyway Sturgeon: eureka! I've found it Sturgeon: by my calculations Sturgeon: 80% of everything is crud Sturgeon: wait a second Sturgeon: 90%. 90% of everything is crud Sturgeon: sorry, forgot to carry the one

Barker: yeah ok i'm gonna leave you to Barker: whatever the hell all this is Sturgeon: scientific progress! Sturgeon: behold! the fruits of science! Sturgeon: a marvel of modern technology! Sturgeon: i'm building a killdozer

Sturgeon: behold! the killdozer! Sturgeon: bullet proof glass. Touchscreen gear shift. Sturgeon: and the steering wheel is a squircle

Sturgeon: the killdozer can cross water up to 2.5 feet deep Sturgeon: but also um you shouldn't get it wet Barker: Sturgeon: especially don't back it into a lake or something

Barker: you scientists are always so busy asking whether you CAN build a killdozer, you never stop to ask whether you SHOULD build a killdozer Barker: cuz that thing looks like shit Barker: like it really looks like shit

Sturgeon: you think i'm smart? you should see my brother peter Sturgeon: you know mensa? Barker: i've heard of it Sturgeon: he's so smart he FOUNDED it Barker: yeah? is he a member? Sturgeon: Sturgeon: i don't know

Barker: so you're pretty smart huh? Peter Sturgeon: [levitating, enormous saucer person head throbbing] Heard of Plato? Aristotle? Socrates? Peter Sturgeon: all morons!

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 2- Analyze, Adapt, Overcome

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: This is one is a bit short and a little uneventful, but I promise you it gets good. I'm very excited to get to the later chapters.

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH19.), Dual POV

 Even after a few weeks, you can't get that meth out of your mind. You lightly swish your hips to the beat of the song playing in your earbuds. Your gloved hands carefully pour the liquidated Red Phosphorus into an Erlenmeyer flask. Even through the gas mask you can still pick up wafts of the garlicy smell of the chemical. You'll have to talk to Valeria about getting a new a gas mask. Destroying your lungs is not one of your goals in life. While you work on this batch your mind strays to the meth Valeria brought you. The Enginuity of its creation is both impressive and irritating. You're a little upset that you didn't think to use morphine. Although that isn't entirely your fault. Getting unlicensed morphine here is like pulling teeth. That's why Las Almas's choice of drug isn't heroin.

You inaccurately hum along to the song while you measure the proper amount of Sulfuric Acid to add to the Red Phosphorus. You're very precise with your cooking. Too little and it won't be as potent, too much and you'll blow it up. You learned that one the hard way. Someone abruptly taps you on the shoulder and you yelp in surprise, almost dropping the Sulfuric Acid. You set it down on the steel counter and turn to look at the intruder. Corra's light brown eye's stare back at you, shining with amusement.

"Valeria wants to see you in her office." She informs you. Her eyes dart to the equipment behind you.

"Alright, tell her I'll be right there I just need to finish up." You reply. Corra leaves and you turn back around to swiftly finish up this batch.

Once done, you leave it in the big metal container to let the liquid product ferment into the iconic methamphetamine crystals. You make your way out of the lab after properly disrobing out of your PPE and neatly stuffing it back into the locker. On your way towards Valeria's office, you're ignored by the others. You see two of her worker's snorting something off of a table. You assume it's your product. You'll have to tell Valeria about that. Like you'll need to tell her about the gas mask. Come to think of it, you're also severely low on Ephedrine.

You open the door to her office and walk in. Giving Deigo a flat look, one he returns. Valeria gives you a much more friendly look and invites you to sit down.

"I want to discuss this new meth going around." She says. Leaning back and bringing a lit cigarette to her lips. 

"I think it's coming from one of those little gangs that have been popping up." Diego remarks. Furrowing his brows. Recently the Cartel has been dealing with new gangs that think they have what it takes to compete. After Valeria was arrested, multiple people began vying for the metaphorical crown. Her incarceration created a power vacuum, as Valeria would put it.

You shake your head at Deigo's claim, refuting it quickly.

"No, I don't think it's even being produced in Las Almas, let alone Mexico." You object. Both Deigo and Valeria look at you.

"Why do you say that?" Asks Valeria. You look at the wall. It's painted some muted red colour. It makes the room feel smaller. 

"Because," You say, staring at the wall. "morphine is such a hassle to obtain, if someone was stealing it, we'd know. And if there were a group big enough to pay hush money to hospitals, we'd know about them too."

Valeria nods in agreement.

"She's right." Valeria murmurs. Deigo rubs a hand over his knee, smoothing over the denim of his pants.

"There is that growing nuisance in Pajaro Azul." He grumbles. Pajaro Azul, Las Almas's sister city. You went there once and hated it. It even has it's own bigwig cartel. You'd never tell anyone, but they scare you a little bit. The men look ten times meaner and the man who runs it is crazy. You prefer the traditional small-town cartel in Las Almas. Even if their reach and influence is anything but.

"Let them deal with it." You say, furrowing your brows. "If the meth is coming from there then I doubt the Pajaro Azul Cartel will let that slide for much longer."

Valeria stubs out her smoke and stretches. Deigo fixes you with a look of annoyance.

"They've let them get this far." He grunts. "They're a bunch of pussies. We need to take care of it ourselves." 

You look to Valeria for backup but she's looking at Deigo. Regarding him with careful consideration.

"I'll think about it." She says. "I don't want to tread on their toes though. A war is the last thing we need right now." Her gaze darkens. Just a year ago, Valeria was caught by Los Vaqueros, aided by foreign military. The whole town was ravished by one of the groups going rogue and both she and the town are still recovering.

It's thanks to you, in your humble opinion, that the cartel is healing so fast. Your meth is making them great money. Well, it was. Until that other stuff just appeared out of thin air. The thought brings a jealous scowl to your face.

"How did that new batch do?" You ask. Looking at Valeria intently. You worry the inside of your cheek. Valeria glances at Diego. Nodding at him. He takes the cue and stands up, brushing off his pants and lumbering out of the room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. The office feels much lighter without his intrusive presence. "It didn't sell." She says.

You frown at her. "What?"

"Most of our usual customers weren't buying." Valeria explains. "The other stuff is cheaper and better."

The statement is a wrecking ball to your pride. Cheaper and better? You frown deeply at the news.

"Well..." You start, picking at a loose thread on the sleave of your shirt. "I'll have to come up with a new recipe." Something more addictive than the Super Meth. Which will be hard without morphine. Valeria stares at you as you go quiet, retreating into the dark folds of your brain. Meth causes intense sugar cravings. Which is one of the main reasons meth users have bad teeth. That and the Acetone in it reacts badly to saliva, drying it up which makes keeping bad bacteria at bay much harder, causing cavities and rot.

You brighten. That's it, sugar.

"I need sugar." You tell her. Looking up at her with renowned determination. Valeria blinks but nods.

"Okay." She agrees. "How much?"

"Three pounds should be enough." You say, then pause. Something in your mind is wiggling for attention but the harder you try to think about it, the less clear it becomes. You needed to do something. You shrug it off. If it were important, you would have remembered.

Valeria dismisses you and you head back down to the lab. You sit at your little desk and begin to start planning out the proper ratios of your ingredients. Excitement wells up inside of you. Nothing is better than a good challenge. You spend hours carefully crafting a new recipe. A few orange crystals of the meth sit on your desk for motivation.

[ninebadbitches]

CHAPTER ONE

June 3rd, 2019

Nine wandered the halls of the school after finishing her cleaning duties. She knew exactly where Senku would be but decided a little detour wouldn’t hurt.

“Yo, nerds,” she called out as she opened the door to the science lab, casually strolling over to Senku.

“You’re late,” Senku muttered without looking up, still busy turning plastic bottles into gasoline.

She smiled warmly. “Aww, missing me now, Senku?” she teased, making kissy noises.

Senku rolled his eyes but smiled softly. “Ha. Not in a million years.”

She giggled. “It’s nice today,” she sighed, closing her eyes to relax.

It didn’t last long—Taiju burst through the door.

“SENKU! NINE!!” he yelled, startling Nine. “This is it, guys! I’m finally going to do it. After five long years, I’m gonna tell her how I feel!”

Nine perked up, happy for her friend finally making his move.

“Oh, fascinating,” Senku said, still working on his experiment. “Unfortunately, I can’t leave the lab right now.”

“Omg yes, finally! I’m so happy for you, Taiju. Good luck!” Nine beamed, flashing him a wide smile.

Taiju returned the smile. “Thanks, Nine!!”

“Promise I’ll cheer you on so hard my vocal cords might snap,” Senku said flatly.

“AWESOME! You mean it?! You rock, Senku!”

“No, you big oaf. I won’t raise my voice even one millimeter,” Senku replied, blocking his ear from the shouting.

“Whaaat? Come on, man!”

Senku sighed. “You’ve felt this way for five years and never said anything? I can’t praise such illogical behavior.”

Nine rolled her eyes. “Ease up, Senku. Love takes time,” she said fondly, shooting him a look.

He smiled back before turning to Taiju. “Fine. I won’t shout for you, but I’ll give you something logical as hell.” His smile turned sly. “I developed this drug—it’s like a love potion. Maxes out your pheromone levels. Gives you a billion-to-one chance of winning her heart.”

Nine gasped, then laughed, lightly hitting his shoulder. “Senku!”

Senku handed Taiju the Erlenmeyer flask with the “love potion.” Taiju examined it for a moment… then poured it straight down the drain.

“Thanks, Senku, but I can’t use this. I have to tell her how I feel—from the heart.”

He dashed out of the room to meet Yuzuriha under the tree.

“A hundred yen says heartbreak.”

“Three hundred on her making him cry.”

“Five hundred on her calling him a creep.”

Senku chimed in, wanting in on the action. “Ten thousand says she’s into him too.”

Nine laughed, joining the fun. “Haha, twenty thousand on them getting married.”

She rested her head on the desk.

Senku scoffed. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch?”

“Nope. This is Taiju we’re talking about. No way she says no. That and Yuzuriha’s my friend too—I know she’d say yes,” she hummed, a soft smile on her face.

Nine pouted. “How come you couldn’t confess like that?” she whispered, low enough only Senku could hear. He just smiled and sipped his drink.

Suddenly, a strange green light flooded the room. Senku gasped. Nine looked out the window, panic blooming on her face.

“Senku,” she reached for him—

—but the light swallowed everything, and the world went black.

The entire planet fell into silence.

Their bodies encased in stone.

No way out.

‘Shit. What just happened? Why can’t I move?’

Nine’s thoughts were frantic. She tried to move anything—an arm, a finger—but nothing responded.

‘Is Senku okay? Ugh… Honestly, he should be fine.’

Despite everything, her mind remained calm. Level-headed.

She had faith.

Senku would figure this out.

If anyone could save the world, it was him.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Nature took over. Cities crumbled. Dams burst. Water flowed free.

Animals ran wild.

Buildings decayed and melted into the earth.

The concrete jungle was now just jungle.

3,700 years passed.

Everything human… forgotten.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

October 5th, Year 5738

Taiju broke free from the stone, followed the river downstream, and found a carved note—Senku’s mark. It didn’t take long to find him.

“It took humanity two million years to crawl out of the stone age,” Senku said. “We need to do it in a sprint. I swear I’m gonna take back the world. I’ll figure out what happened to us. How we broke free.”

“I swear I’m going to save Yuzuriha and confess my love,” Taiju added.

“We may just be a couple of high school kids—but we’re going to rebuild civilization from the ground up.

You and I will be like Adam and Eve.

Together, we’ll bring life back to this stone world.

This is exhilarating.

GET EXCITED!”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

They worked like a well-oiled machine. Senku had the brains (obviously), and Taiju had the brawn.

On one of his scavenger hunts, Taiju found something strange: a cave with yellow liquid dripping into a pot.

He stared at it, wide-eyed.

“Before you say anything—I made this, you big oaf,” Senku appeared behind him.

“So it’s really just us left?” Taiju asked, still trying to grasp it all.

“We’ll get more. That’s priority number one,” Senku said, then smirked.

“I mean, just the two of us? A couple of dudes? Can’t restart humanity like that… if you catch my drift.”

Taiju looked around the cave—and then he saw her.

“NINE?!! What’s she doing here??!!”

Senku winced, plugging his ears. “I moved her, idiot. Just like I did with you. Broke my back doing it.”

“Didn’t wanna leave her out there,” he added, his tone softer—almost vulnerable. Then he cleared his throat.

“See that stuff dripping above? That’s our miracle fluid. Bat guano. Good ol’ nitric acid.”

“No way!! That’s crazy—what is that stuff?!” Taiju shouted in awe.

The two boys stepped outside, acid in hand.

“I anticipated that question, but I’m not gonna waste my breath explaining it to you,” Senku said flatly.

They arrived at a tree stump where Senku placed a petrified bird. He poured the nitric acid over it.

“Let me guess—you pour the miracle fluid on it, stone breaks, and the bird wakes up?” Taiju asked.

“I wish it were that straightforward.” Senku frowned, watching the bird. Nothing happened.

“I’ve been working on this like a madman. Tried every method I could think of.”

They stepped into a shack, shelves stacked with stone birds.

“It’s like some fantasy world,” Senku muttered. “Is it all mineral? Are there cells under there? Without a proper lab, I can’t do an in-depth analysis.”

“So… there’s stuff even science can’t explain?” Taiju offered.

Senku laughed. “Ah, the tired old cliché. Science might be slow, but it always gets there in the end. Though, liquor would speed things up.”

A lightbulb flicked on in Taiju’s head. “Wait! I found grapes in the forest—wine comes from grapes, yeah? And that’s alcohol, right?”

They got to work. Harvested grapes. Picked only the ripe ones. Crushed them. Poured the juice into a container.

After three weeks of fermentation, they had wine. Next came distillation—heat, cool, drip. It would concentrate the alcohol.

Their first attempt failed. So did the second. But they kept going, distilling for months.

Finally, they had enough. Senku poured the miracle fluid on a petrified bird.

The stone cracked—first the eye, then the wings.

Then, like magic…

The bird flew.

They had found the key to bringing humanity back.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for cooking meth with my former chemistry student, killing two people, and lying to my family about it?

I (50M) was recently diagnosed with inoperable, likely fatal lung cancer. I work at a highschool as a chemistry teacher, but both the pay and the students are terrible. Case in point, my "lab partner" (24M) - who we'll call "Cap'n" because of course he'd insist on a stupid nickname like that - not only completely flunked my class, but then went on to skip college entirely and become a meth-addicted drug dealer instead.

Understandably, I was a little shaken after receiving my diagnosis. It came as a surprise since I've never smoked, I keep myself in relatively fair health, etc. (Recently my wife has taken to vegan bacon- apparently it helps lower cholesterol, but I digress.) I haven't told my family about the situation yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to "let the cat out of the bag", not to mention I doubt my wife will take it very well.

As for deciding to try cooking methamphetamine, well. I'm not really sure how to explain it, exactly, but there's a lot of money in it, money that would benefit my family, and I don't have much to lose anymore. This may sound cliche, but it's as though I'm really awake for the first time in my life.

Cap'n and I formed a partnership by circumstance only; I found out he was in "the business" and offered to either turn him into the DEA or work with me, and he naturally took the second option. He had no idea what he was doing on the chemistry side of things - chili powder in the meth! applying heat to an Erlenmeyer flask! no wonder I flunked him, he clearly learned nothing in my class - but does know the trade.

(Note: Don't buy all of your supplies from the same store.)

Sorry, I'm getting too far into the weeds here, let me skip ahead. We purchased a trailer and drove out to somewhere in the middle of the desert to cook without added attention or need for dramatic cleanup if we had to leave the area in a hurry. Our first batch was, according to Cap'n, "pure glass." After all of that complaining, I had cooked the finest product he'd ever seen on the first try! Goes to show paying attention in school does pay off, ahem. In case any of you were reading this and thinking of skipping off to go and make highly illegal substances and risk years in prison instead of doing your homework. You all still have your entire lives ahead of you. I don't.

After making it, the next logical course of action was to sell. Cap'n said he had some connections - I mean, he is a drug dealer, I saw no reason not to trust him (I now see how little sense that makes.) - and came back with two men with guns pointed at both of us. You must understand, it was a kill or be killed situation. These are the kind of people who don't care about morals, or what's right or ethical or kind. If they'd lived... not just me, but my wife, my son, and my entire family would all be in serious, mortal danger. I had no choice.

Cap'n by this point had been knocked out cold- still alive, but entirely unhelpful with the situation at hand. I was on my own. So I offered to show the goons how I made the "glass", surely they wanted to see how it was done? And they did- I still can't believe that actually worked. But, ah, instead of actually cooking anything, I gave them... let's call it a chemistry lesson. When significant heat is applied to red phosphorus - a key ingredient in Cap'n and I's "extracurricular science project" - it oxidizes. Your result is phosgene gas, highly deadly, hence the "killing two people." One... technically isn't dead yet- somehow he managed to survive, I still don't fully understand how, but I'm... I'm working on it. Cap'n still has yet to get rid of the first body, so... technically I'm not failing to withhold my share of the cleanup, since he hasn't done so with his.

I realize now this is very long, but I wanted to explain the context for my actions. However, a tl;dr for those who might be in a hurry: I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, so with nothing else to lose decided to try to make some money for my family by cooking and selling methamphetamine. Coincidentally, a former student of mine was also in the business, and I convinced him to work with me. When we tried to put our product on the market, two people tried to kill us, so I acted in self-defense.

But I really, really must know... is what I did wrong? Should I have been content to live the rest of however-long-I-have-left working a miserable job as a public high school chemistry teacher instead? Should I have found a less fatal way of dealing with the two men who tried to kill me and my partner? AITA?

P.S. It's pretty late as I'm typing this so I might've made some errors in coherency or grammar, for which I apologize.

[this-is-z-art-blog]

[ID: digital halfbody drawing of Technus from Danny Phantom. His long hair is pulled partially back from his face by his dark goggles, with lightning bolt shaped stray locks poking over his ears. He's wearing a round gray earring, white lab coat, black jumpsuit with a triangular window over his collarbones, and belt with a blue T insignia buckle, as well as blue lab gloves. He's holding an erlenmeyer flask filled with something glowing green, wafting out toward his face. He's grinning broadly, with his free hand on his hip.]

For @ghostypeppers/@ghoulishautism, for completing Eight Ecto Nights 2023!

Tried to do Technus in more of your design. Thank you again for your amazing artwork!