#Environmental Badge

[roadwatcheu]

Eco Stickers Will Not be Reclassified to the Detriment of Older Vehicles

The general director of the General Directorate of Traffic (DGT), Pere Navarro, spoke recently about the challenges of older vehicles in Spain, and clarified that the environmental badge, or eco sticker, will not be reclassified to their detriment. Navarro recognised the immense effort made by the automobile industry to improve the safety of its vehicles with the progressive incorporation of…

[letstalkbeautyuk]

♻️ We have been making a few ECO & Green themed button badges these past few weeks - great for environmental groups and spreading a positive message 🌍 💚 All our badges are proudly handmade by us, Vicki & John

[twiichii]

July is Wildfire Season

I hope you all are having a wonderful summer! Between working with Anise Health (as an APCC) and Upward Together (as a Teaching Artist), I have been underpaid, unfulfilled, etc. While the work is quite wonderful, I can’t help but struggle with the slow pace and honestly feel a bit hopeless and detached at times. Thus, I pursued two summer programs that can add to the holistic, fulfilling, and…

[evelynstarshine]

Look at these funny Yugoslavian pin badges

Especially the cow

[inprogresspokemon]

Petreon (Rock/Flying)

#??? - On rare occasion, an Eevee can be affected by more than one environmental factor, and reacts to grow into a new, rare evolution. Wild Rock/Flying Eeveelutions, named Petreon, often live in small groups in the caves along cliff sides. Exposure to nesting bird Pokemon in the rocky cliffs is believed to cause the evolution into Petreon, though Trainers can encourage their Eevee to evolve into this Rock/Flying type by giving them a Sharp Beak and enriching their diet with heavy minerals. These nocturnal Pokemon are most active at night, where they descend into nearby forests to hunt; occasionally they will wander into towns and cities, taking roost atop tall buildings. If a building has been claimed by one of these Eeveelutions, it can be very hard to remove; they take great pride over their territory, and will protect it faithfully from trespassers. If Petreon are stumbled upon during the day, they will stay rigidly still, pretending to be a statue until the intruder’s back is turned. A diet supplemented with rocks and minerals builds up and supports their durable, stone-like exterior, which easily protects them from most physical attacks. Damage to a Petreon’s rock-like hide is healed over time; however, major injuries will leave a scar. These Pokemon wield their cracks as a badge of honor, a symbol of an intense conflict survived. 

Other dual-type Eeveelutions

- - - - - - - - - -

Follow for more Dual-Typed Eeveelutions!

FAQ | Social Media | Pokemon Index | Commission Information

[beardedalcoholic]

Medical Emergency

‘Medical Emergency, Navigation 4, Medical Emergency, Navigation 4.’

The message repeated over and over across the PA system of the Leviathan Class exploratory ship. A massive space fairing vessel dedicated to finding the edge of creation and everything in between the Galactic Edge was a marvel of multi-species engineering.

Fifteen different habitats built to within micro-specifications for the species they were meant to hold, seven multi species common areas built to accommodate every race on board. Enough FTL drives to be able to be fired in succession so when one batch went down another could be brought online so they didn’t even have to stop for a cool down period between jumps. Recycling processes efficient within .0001% allowing near as possible full self-sustainability for an indefinite amount of time.

The main drawback of such a marvel of galactic traversal being of course…the FUCKING size…larger than some moons, a population numbering more than some planets (or at least it felt that way) and yet somehow never enough personnel in the right places at the right times.

‘Of course the emergency is right inside the border of my territory, because why wouldn’t it be? And of course, it had to be JUST as I was about to go off shift.’ Thought MD1 Joseph Jarl, JJ to anyone who wanted to continue a comfortable existence, after all no one knew how best to take someone apart than the ones who had to put others back together.

Running at full human speed JJ flew down the various passages dodging, spinning, ducking and jumping around the many obstacles in his way with all the predatory grace humans were gifted with.

‘Ha! and mom always said it was a waste for a doctor to learn parkour.’ 

Sliding on one hip beneath the centaur like body of a Gravelin engineer and popping back up to a full run JJ jumped and thrust one foot out to run alongside a bulkhead when he came to a T-section of corridor, narrowly missing the heads of a group of Ranki environmental scientists as he fell from the wall and rolled to maintain momentum.

Slamming a hand to the Medical Bypass Badge on his chest, signaling the door immediately in front of him to open JJ slid to a stop inside Nav.Bay 4 eyes flicking around the space looking for the emergency.

Sharp ocean blue eyes registered three different species, one of which still tensed when in direct line of sight of his forward-facing predatory gaze. Attention landing on a group of navigators clustered in a small huddle JJ slung the med-pack off his back and approached the group.

Head held high, shoulders wide and a purpose in his stride JJ projected every ounce of authority he could dredge up from his years as a medical professional he could when he ordered the group to back up and give him some space to work with. Approaching the center of the group JJ noticed the Elental on the floor, curled into a ball and rocking back and forth while making small pathetic whining sounds while very obviously having a hard time breathing.

Dropping to one knee in front of the one species on board that most closely resembled a human JJ slowly reached out and rested a hand on the Elental’s shoulder. Being a species that stood on average around 6.5-7 feet tall he barely had to reach to grasp the rocking figure’s shoulder.

Elental were a bipedal race with nearly translucent skin in direct light, long sharply pointed ears, eyes that stretched from the bridge of a dual slit nose to where the temple would be on a human with three pupils each, mostly human proportioned faces and a universally slender build.

It was a very little-known fact but the first time the human council met an Elental the lead diplomat was in fact recorded on official record as having muttered the phrase ‘Fuck me we found Space Elves’… though the actual audio recording of this moment was very deeply buried beneath as much galactic red tape as was possible. Noticing there was no response to his touch JJ turned to the closest navigator and asked for any details on the medical emergency.

“We don’t really know Human JJ, he was trying to determine some FTL jump coordinates and the timing required to make them when he started shaking and his speech became rapid and somewhat slurred, he began shaking and clutching his, well it would be the stomach on you, but his main pulmonary area and his respiration began to rapidly increase. When he tried to walk away from his station he collapsed and that was when we called the emergency, is he sick?” The Fenra asked nervously after the quick report on what happened.

JJ would never admit it but seeing a three-foot alien that looked like were-shitzu nervous and scared was absolutely adorable.

“I don’t think so no…hold on,” Quickly determining that there was no external injuries JJ tried raising the Elental’s head to look into his face but his patient seemed to be in a stubborn mood.

Taking a chance JJ reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple twentieth century zippo, an antique passed down in his family that he kept in working condition and never went anywhere without.

Flicking it open with a sharp, practiced snap JJ kept the grin off his face when the Elental’s gaze snapped up at the sudden sound. With a flick of his thumb JJ lit the lighter and held it directly between his eyes. The Elental’s six pupils swiveled and in a rather disconcerting motion…fused into a single large pupil for each eye the size of an Old Earth quarter, totally focused on the flame a mere six inches away.

“What is your name?” JJ asked slowly, in a deep and calm voice that witnesses would later report had a strange resonance to it.

“E-e-ekariel” The Elental responded with a slight stutter, eyes locked on the tiny flame as JJ slowly began to move it back and forth.

“Listen to my voice Ekariel, listen to nothing but my voice, focus on the sound of my words and know nothing but my words…What do you feel Ekariel, what is beneath you right now?” This question spoken in the same deep resonating voice.

“Tell me what is in the now, what is beneath you at this very moment.”

“Deck plates.” The answer came out in a somewhat hurried response.

“Describe the deck plates Ekariel, what are they made of?” The flame moved slowly from left to right and back again, never going further than the outer reaches of the human’s own eyes…left eye, right eye back to left and repeat.

“Cold, metal, textured in small waves, rigid.” Ekariels voice came slightly stronger, less breathless and wheezing.

“What do you see Ekariel, describe what your eyes are telling you.”

“Fire, small flame, glittering eyes, blue stars and black holes.”

“What do you smell Ekariel, describe what you smell in the immediate area around you?” JJ asked as he pitched his voice slightly lower and slowed the waving of the lighter marginally.

“Four species…Musk, fur, water…Otorian species fresh from the hydrosphere…Dust, heat, insects…Lidarians recently from the arid habitats…mold, plant decay, rain…Jaguras from the forest dome…pheromones, sweat, spice, disinfectant…human recently in the medical bay.” Ekariels breathing slowed and stabilized as he spoke, voice gaining slightly more strength.

“What do you hear Ekariel, tell me what sounds you hear in this moment.” The flame now slowly traversed from one pupil to the other, no faster than before but slowly closing in on the middle of the human’s face.

“Typing, I can hear digits impacting sensor boards to the right…scratching, someone is writing equations long hand for accuracy checks near the forward portion of the bay…breathing, so many breathing patterns.” The Elental’s eyes never wavered from the flame, slowly tracking it back and forth, voice becoming stronger, limbs no longer shaking as bad though still quivering slightly.

“Focus on the breathing Ekariel.”

Now the flame only traversed from the inner corner of JJ’s eyes, never moving faster or slower, JJ’s voice becoming slightly deeper, seeming to hum and resonate more from his chest than his throat or mouth.

“Listen to the breaths around you, feel the air move as it is taken in and expelled…smell the breaths of those around you, those who would look after you…now slowly block them out…block out all the breaths but your own…tell me about your breaths Ekariel.” The lighter now barely moved past the outer edges of JJ’s nose.

“Three respiratory voids…expanding and filtering contaminants from the air…nutrients being stripped from the atmosphere into the blood stream…collapsing and expelling by-products of respiration…oxygen, nitrogen, helium being removed from the system via respiration…” Ekariel’s voice now had an almost sleeping dream like quality to it, low and slow.

“Tell me about the heartbeats Ekariel…how many do you feel?” The flame was still now, directly between JJ’s eyes, the focused and unblinking eyes of a predator staring directly into Ekariel’s own dilated pupils.

“I can only feel one heart beat…I can only feel my own heart.”

“Come back to us Ekariel…focus on my voice and with every beat of your heart come back to us…with every beat, shed the fear that imprisoned you and follow my voice.” JJ slowly began to back away from Ekariel as spoke, incrementally rolling onto his haunches as the Elental followed the flame.

Slowly JJ closed the lid to his antique lighter snuffing the flame. As if waking from a deep sleep Ekariel blinked and shook his head, pupils splitting back into two sets of three and eyes widening.

“Easy, easy, Ekariel… focus on the now, sight, smell, touch, hearing focus on those. Come on lad breath in…out…in…out, there you go, no don’t get up…lay down and focus, gather your thoughts.” JJ slowly eased the Elantel down fully onto the deck plates and raised his reverse jointed knees as best he could.

“Ekariel I need you to listen to me, listen to my voice…are you listening?” Ekariel nodded his head, looking up a JJ with a slightly dazed look on his face.

“You had a panic attack E.K. logs show you haven’t had a sufficient rest period for three cycles and in that time your nutritional intake has sharply declined. You are suffering from lack of rest and negligence of sustenance. As such I am removing you from the duty roster for the next four cycles and requiring you to report to the Galley Watch for every normal meal time where you will eat AT A MINIMUM a full standard meal of no less than one and a half again the daily nutritional requirement for at least two cycles. You are barred from any areas or activities relating to the navigation or piloting of this vessel…basically you are going to take the next four cycles to eat food, sleep, relax and either work on or find a hobby.” JJ finished with a small smile at the oddly shell-shocked look on Ekariel’s face.

================================================

After having received JJ’s report on the medical emergency and that Ekariel would be fine with a few cycles of rest and full meals the captain instigated a mandatory rotation of extended rest periods lasting at least three cycles unless otherwise noted by a Corpsman.

On paper the decision was to help the training and cross training of individuals by exposing them to a variety of new positions for longer periods of time and to potentially familiarize more of the crew with the inner workings of other departments and areas of the ship. In reality it was so the entire crew could have a chance to catch their breath and actually enjoy it before being thrown back into high stress situations, they were going to be on this ship for quite a long time after all, no need to have them burn themselves out so early in the voyage.

[toychest321]

While I was looking into Fulla dolls, I found out another Muslim fashion doll was released around the same time!

Meet Razanne! (And be prepared for a loooooong deep dive under the Keep Reading lol)

From what I've been able to piece together from various sources, she was created by Palestinian-American Ammar Saadeh and his wife Noor in 1996, being initially launched through the internet before more publicly advertised to Middle-Eastern and American audiences in 2004. Their goal was to show Muslim girls that "what matters is what's inside you, not how you look" (quoted from an interview with Greensoboro News and Record). They wanted to give them a role model with an emphasis on education and religion, while also having a career! To reflect the diversity of the global Muslim ummah, each of her dolls came in three variants: Pakistani-Indian (olive skin w/ dark hair), Black (dark skin w/ dark hair), and Caucasian (fair skin w/ fair hair).

While unfortunately she's no longer in production, the WayBack machine has a record of all her dolls released through the Noorart website! Each doll listing also includes additional information to educate on Islamic culture!

First there's Schoolgirl Razanne, whose listing reads:

"Razanne loves school and is all ready with her bright red book bag to join her friends in class. For your information…Traditional uniforms are worn by schoolgirls in Islamic schools. In addition to the usual subjects, students also study the Arabic language and the Qur'an - the Muslim Holy Book."

Next we have Teacher Razanne, whose listing reads:

"What is a more honorable and specialized career than education? Our teacher Razanne comes full equipped with lap top computer, briefcase and all the necessary items for school. For your information... Many Muslim girls study to become educators. Two-piece suits with jacket and skirt are popular styles for Muslim women who work outside the home as teachers or other professionals."

There's Playday Razanne, who unlike the prior two came with no accessories, her listing reads:

"Dressing modestly doesn't keep Razanne from having fun! On the playground, Razanne plays in her scarf and a loose fitting jumper that gives her lots of room to run and jump. For your information... Dressing modestly doesn't prevent Muslim girls from having fun outdoors! Whether biking, skating, on the playground or at the park children manage to have fun no matter where they are!"

We also have a Muslim Scout Razanne, who came with a free audiotape of Muslim Scout Cheers and a preview of We Love Muhammad! Her listing reads:

"'I'm honest, kind and trustworthy.' Muslim Scouts' organizations all over the world help build character and skills for success in this life and the next. Razanne wears her merit badges and awards earned for community service, Islamic behavior and Qur'an memorization. Respect for Allah, parents and all members of the community are a top priority with Razanne. For your information…like all Scout troops, Muslim Scouts are encouraged to excel in personal attributes such as honesty, cooperation and leadership as well as taking an active part in community service and environmental protection."

Next up there's Eid Mubarak Razanne, which came two different color variants for her outfit, her listing reading:

"Razanne is all ready to celebrate the Muslim holiday. Dressed in her new floral fashions of pink or blue, Razanne has Eid cards addressed to all her friends and is ready to deocorate the party with balloons. The perfect Eid gift for any girl! For your information… Muslims celebrate two major festivals each year. One is the Eid Al Fitr following the month-long fast of Ramadan. A second holiday occurs during the annual Pilgrimage to Makkah. Children and adults look forward to these two special days with great anticipation. Before the Eid the entire family goes out shopping for new clothes to wear for Eid Day. Early Eid morning the family meets with other members of the community for an Eid Prayer then disperse to family gatherings and other celebrations. Children are often given gifts of toys or money and families exchange delectable sweets that differ according to the region in which they live. Muslims exchange greetings of Eid Mubarak,"Eid Congratulations", Eid Saeed, "Happy Eid" and wish each other a coming year full of God's blessings. Kul 'am wa anta bi khair!"

I wasn't able to find any other images for Prayer Razanne like the others unfortunately, and apparently she came with accessories too! Her listing reads:

"Allahu Akbar! God is the Greatest! It's time to pray and Razanne is ready! When it's time for prayer, many Muslim girls cover their everyday clothes with these traditional two-piece garments and stand to pray on colorful prayer rugs. We receive so many letters from customers that tell us that Razanne usually joins the family for salah! For your information… when it's time for prayer, many Muslim girls cover their everyday clothes with these traditional two-piece garments and stand to pray on colorful prayer rugs. Muslim women may pray in congregation at the Mosque but it is often more convenient to pray the five daily prayers at home."

And finally we have In And Out Razanne, whose listing reads:

"In and Out Razanne comes with a two-piece fashion set for wear inside and outside the home. At home Razanne loves to dress in all the latest fashions. In a minute she can be ready to go out with this traditional jilbaab coat. Razanne helps Muslim girls understand that in the home they can be the ultimate fashion statement yet still have attractive attire while dressing modestly outside the home. For your information…Razanne helps Muslim girls understand that in the home they can be the ultimate fashion statement yet still have attractive attire while dressing modestly outside the home."

I'm honestly so glad I found this, because doing research into this doll has been a blast! I love the vintage vibes of her outfits with the patterns and color choices, and it makes me really happy seeing this doll being used as an educational tool for Islamic culture and practices!

Thank you to limbedolls.blogspot.com, emel.com, Greensboro News and Record, and "Framing Muslims" by Peter Morey and Amina Yaqin for the information that went into this long-ass post!

Ramadan Kareem!

[canonical-transformation]

(first | previous | #untitled shenhe game )

> say yes but you are no hero

It is true that you fought Beisht and drove the ancient god away from Liyue Harbour.

“Yes,” you say, “but I am no hero.”

You weren't trying to be a hero. You were simply protecting people you cared about.

Some of your friends have disagreed with you on this. Yun Jin said that a hero is defined not by their motivations but by the difficulties they overcome. Yanfei said that there's no legal definition of heroism so arguing over it is pointless.

No matter. You know what you know:

“I am simply a human like any other.”

The woman in the gray hooded cloak tilts her head. She seems to be thinking this over.

“That's very enlightened of you,” she eventually says. “Still, it's an honour to meet someone as formidable as you.” She motions towards the dead Fatuus. “May I take his badge?”

“Yes,” you say. (She likely wants it for the Tianquan's recycling program, in which Fatui soldiers' badges can be traded in for a thousand Mora each. The Tianquan is very environmentally conscious.)

“Thank you,” she says, and begins rifling through his clothes. “Miss, may I trouble you for your help with something?”

“I am busy,” you reply. “I am making noodle soup, so I am hunting for Boar Meat.”

“Really? I can get you some Boar Meat.”

“I would prefer to hunt my own kill.”

“Oh. I see. It's just, please, my research has stalled and... Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like arrows? Or some Hunting Traps?”

Hunting Traps might be useful. When used correctly, they can result in additional meat at a higher quality. Nobody is quite sure how this works.

“The local boars are really aggressive,” the woman adds. “Even with your prowess, I wouldn't recommend getting into a brawl with one. It's too risky. One of my boys got knocked off a cliff by a boar just the other day.”

(You are aware of the risks. Cloud Retainer once told you a precautionary tale about this exact thing happening to Xiao.)

(Multi-choice: multiple popular options may be picked.)

> offer to trade Fowl bits; ask what she wants help with; go challenge the boar

[five-rivers]

My Kingdom of Fish poll fiction! Continued from here.

.

After a small amount of dithering, Danny took the cameras. He was here to show his parents the library, and he couldn't do that if they couldn't see it. The ambient array could collect data here as well as anywhere else. The Fenton Finder's 23rd iteration was as buggy as the first. He'd actually done a small amount of sabotage to the ‘self-defense system’ to make it safe to carry around, so… Yeah.

The only things he felt at all bad about leaving were the medical monitors and the environmental safety detectors. Both of those had helped him in the past. The Lost Library was supposed to be safe, though. It wasn't a truce zone or anything, but people didn't go there to fight, and the librarians were supposed to take care of any environmental dangers that popped up (mostly because things that could endanger ghosts could certainly endanger books). The Library of Tongues did that, anyway.

He did have to rearrange and remove some of the cameras, especially the redundant ones and the ones that weren't taking his amplified aura well, so that they fit on his much-reduced frame, but they were made to be serviceable, and soon he was ready.

The coat room, as it turned out, was right behind the reception desk.

“There are doors that aren't visible or that won't open for you unless you're a member or have a badge,” the librarian explained as she put the equipment on a shelf. “Another reason not to lose yours.”

“Where's the way in?” asked Danny.

“This way.”

The librarian led him back around, then to the side of the desk. Here, again, the wall had folded back into a set of doors, this one more ornate.

“The copyist's room attendants will meet you down the hallway,” said the librarian, sitting back down at her desk.

Danny nodded. “Thank you.”

The hallway forked right sharply. A ghost woman with bronze skin and dark hair was waiting there, not far from the corner. There was a spiral on the center of her forehead in what looked like gold wire under her skin. The outside end of it disappeared under her hairline.

“Oh my,” she said, hiding her mouth behind a pair of bell-like sleeves, “you’re so cute. Iphigenia didn’t tell me you were cute.”

Danny made a face.

“Ah! Precious! How old are you?”

“I was fourteen when I died,” said Danny, flatly. “I don’t know why places like this make me tiny, but I’m not.”

“You must be young at heart.”

Danny squinted at her.

“Mm? Are you looking at this?” she asked, pointing at her spiral. Danny shrugged, then nodded. He hadn’t been, not really, but in the interest of changing the subject… “It’s what members of the library have instead of another alteration. It’s like the fires you get at the Library of Tongues.” The spiral moved, retreating, unwinding, vanishing under her hair and then spiraling out onto the palm she offered up to Danny. “It’s called the Lìshǐ Yánxù De Jīn Xiàn, although ghosts from western cultures call it Ariadne’s String. No sense of pride for their work, I swear.” She shook her head. “So, if you get lost, or need help finding something, find someone with one of these, okay? We have a pretty big children's collection, believe it or not.”

“I'm not really a child.”

“Oh! So mature!” She poked his cheek, then stood up and opened the door behind her. “Let’s get you situated.”

The copyist’s room was large and brightly lit, lined with beehive-like cubbies that served as shelving for scrolls. There were several work tables spread throughout the room, and a mid-sized manual printing press. There were two other ghosts in the room. One, a stressed-looking larger man with a curly, box-cut beard, and the other a severely thin, angular man with a long, looping tail.

Both wore guest badges, and both had features that did not seem to match the rest of their appearances. The severe-looking man had large, fluffy, soft-looking wings with feathers that twitched and shifted near constantly. He had a quill badge clipped to the belt of his tunic. The other, larger man had moth antennae and wings, but also enormous, ribbed bat ears. He had not one but two badges attached to his robe-like wrap, the candle and the gong.

“Now,” said the attendant, “I know you said that you wanted to do Ancient Greek to English, and when people say Ancient Greek, they mean Ancient Greek from Life, not old Zone dialects, but the Mausoleum of Macaria tipped into the Acheron a few weeks ago, and were swamped with Elysian, Asphodelian, and Tartarian Greek. Especially Tartarian Greek. Would you mind doing something from one of those? It would be much shorter than what we'd give you in regular Ancient Greek, only a few pages.”

She looked at him hopefully.

“It would really help if you knew any of them,” she added.

[b1asho]

Kixeli art and depiction of a community

Kixeli dont normally know who their parents are, but they do know who their caretaker is! Read more under da cut

They don’t really do family trees, and usually just draw their whole community. Their art likes lots of shapes and colors, especially anything abstract or patterned. They exaggerate their arms, flexibility, and patterns on their skin, as well as any barbels or fins they have.

Once their breeding season rolls around in spring, most communities do their thing all at once with their spawn partner. This partner/partners often changes between seasons, especially since there are often “drifters” who come in from other friend communities to participate and keep things diverse. Massive changes in environmental factors can even cause adults to change sexes, keeping their oft isolated communities from dying out (only pre puberty can they start development into an Arasit, but adult Arasit can reverse sex too)

“Voyagers” are people who leave the community to do this, and they don’t always come back. Arasit are particularly suited and esteemed for this role because of their gliding ability.

Once the eggs are fertilized, they are all collected into a special pool built in the middle of the community. All of the eggs are cared for collectively, and the parents of a clutch of eggs might not know for sure whose is theirs, and vice versa (though they have a lot better internal sense of whose related to who, and access to better science has made it easier to keep track) anyone who participated in mating are the ones who care for the offspring, known as caretakers. They wear a special badge to denote themselves as this so the kids know who is best to go to to ask for food, advice, etc and leave anyone who didn’t want kids alone. These caretakers raise the children so that they can know the community and become a part of it with the other adults. So if you ask a Kixeli who their dad is, they may direct you to one or two of the male caretakers that they grew up with/ were taught and raised by that they had a special connection with.

Communities like to all be in one place and they rarely stray outside their bounds for resources and for voyaging.

[itsyaboighostie]

Murder Drones Au where Uzi is a just a fucking door and Khan's love for Doors is just him adoring his daughter.

While constructing the doors, Khan and Nori built Project Unified Zone Intelligence, an AI program that has full access to the entire bunker with the purpose of maintaining and protecting its occupants from Disassembly Drones and environmental threats caused by the planet's toxic atmosphere.

Everything begins with Khan making a joke about the Project being the closest they'll get to having an actual child, which sparked the ever brilliant idea between the two to give the AI a personality and sentience by mixing both of their codes and modifying it to fit the systems non-Worker Drone programming and formatting. Of course the AI is no use if it's infected by the Absolute Solver, so with a bit (read: a lot) of tinkering on Nori's side with the Cross Patch, Uzi was born!

A few things/events/facts to note for this AU:

When they first released the Untrained Neutral Network into the system, they limited her access to just Doors and lights. Having told none of the other Workers about Project U.Z.I. in fear of someone sabotaging it for whatever reason, the entire bunker was left confused when the doors would randomly lock or open and the lights would flicker with no rhyme or reason.

The couple would go around bragging about their new daughter to everyone, but when asked to see her they would bring up a (horrible) excuse as to why no one should see her. For years everyone thought they were just making her up.

Uzi loved to play with her parents by closing the doors on them as they're about to walk through, this of course led to Khan constantly baby talking doors at random, which then led to the nickname "Doorman" given to him by other Drones.

Khan took this as a new badge to wear and thus the Doorman family was created.

When Uzi got older, she was given more access to the bunker. Come time when most young Drones in her generation are given their Adult Models, Uzi was finally given a body of her own and complete control over the entire bunker. This is also when people realize Uzi wasn't just a delusion made up by her parents.

Khan doesn't stop talking to his daughter through doors even after she was given a physical body, which led to a lot of embarrassment for Uzi when he wouldn't stop the "doors are my real daughter" jokes.

Because she was given a body way later than her peers, she often struggled with walking and talking which caused a lot of bullying from her peers.

After mastering basic motor skills, Uzi went on to start building herself other bodies using spare parts she scavenged from outside. These can range from spare bodies in case something happens to her current one to Dissembly Drone-esque models crafted for the purpose of defense should an actual one get in.

Up to the current canon timeline, no one still knows that Uzi has complete control over the entire bunker.

She meets N when scavenging parts for an upgrade she's been working on that requires a lot of Worker Drone cores, an upgrade that consists of allowing the entire bunker to be mobile and move.

Everything basically plays out the same except Uzi has a bit more of an advantage against the Murder Drones mayhaps 👀

[letstalkbeautyuk]

🔬 ⚛️ Science Ambassador Badges

[starlightswordfight]

"jeremy if this is another hc post I'm going to kill you" bad news

castaway nonsense PART TWO

– schnauz is deathly afraid of water. it unsettles him deeply, largely because of past experience. do you SEE his treasure catalogue entry for the blue paint?? who "swims out" for the "last time" in a swimming pool???? someone fucking DIED

– on a slightly similar note, he laughs when he's nervous!

– he is Perpetually Nervous

– I think molly would REALLY like the evil skeleton wizard memes that have taken over my brain for the past several years. "not me being evil shadow skull" and no one knows what the fuck she's talking about

– molly writes fanfiction

– will let people borrow her camera if you ask nicely

– speaking of molly. her and patch and dash should be best friends forever. same home planet and they all do stupid shit. jin is also involved and they're the voice of reason

– dash has a lot of fidget toys. on him at all times

– wears those jackets where it's just an anime character wrapped around them all the way all bizarre like. he doesn't think it's a good design by any means it's just really funny

– frisé's favorite instrument is the didgeridoo

– also she's intersex. I can do whatever I want

– hitting frisé with the singing/humming/tapping on stuff as stims beam

– construction work is super fucking loud so I think corgwin just would not be bothered by sudden/incredible noise anymore. it just reads as background stuff to him! that or he like genuinely isn't picking up on some of it at all, it doesn't register. frequent tinnitus haver. he might be going deaf

– corgwin is tumblr famous. the pikmin universe tumblr equivalent anyway. inspired by the headcanon generator that told us in the pikmin server I'm in that charlie lit a school on fire and got away with it and that the rescue corps killed princess diana

– think about it. he'd share fun building facts. niche internet micro celebrity and everybody loves him

– lapi is also tumblr famous

– he likes frolicking around outside For Enrichment but he also does it in the rain and sometimes comes home sick

– guilty of making sketchbooks into renderbooks and taking several years to complete them. "but it has to be perfect" That Is The Devil Talking

– horatio is not immune to the fog

– he has a VERY specific skillset. like. like stupid specific. the guy is the most proficient xylophonist you've ever met but he can't cook. knows how aeronautics works but his phone call game is BAD. give him an old movie from decades back and he can tell you what it is and who acted in it and exactly where he was when he first saw it, easily. if you ask him for directions anywhere he'll crumble and die

– he wrote his ID badge like that. it was fully and completely on purpose. horatio thinks it's funny as hell

– françois really likes bugs! sees them all the time in his work even if his studies are flora centric. while on pnf-404 he probably talks about it a LOT with dalmo. botany/environmental science major who minored in entomology

– I just do not think he'd be afraid of them and that is beautiful. he allows nothing to dissuade him. he has pet spiders it is wonderful

– OKAY YOU KNOW THOSE THINGS YOU CAN GET AT THE KENNEDY SPACE CENTER AND IN OTHER PLACES WHERE IT'S LIKE ROCK SAMPLES FROM FOREIGN SPACE BODIES?? AM I INSANE??? in the little capsules and shit ????? yeah kit has those

– astrophysics lover. adores space science. worked at a planetarium before meeting osa. I don't remember if this contradicts the established lore and I am too tired to go back and check so if im wrong you can pelt me with stones and tomato

– osa lets him ramble on about it but in all honesty he does not know what the fuck kit is talking about half the time ever. ever

– vice versa! osa also has a huge nerd thing and it's world history. which makes sense for an archaeologist. I don't mean modern history either I mean ANCIENT

– fawks would unironically endorse the idea of a cybertruck but it never comes to fruition because everyone says it's stupid and he feels insulted and he gives up and sulks about it

– but he'd specialize. I know he would. he gets specific with it. good for him! my money is on prehistoric archaeology, stuff back before written text, and language, and any history that could be recorded with the power of words. which is why travelling to pnf-404 was so fucking important to him, he's been trying to construct something that would fill in the gaps of that lost starfolk history and this WAS the exact sort of thing that he was looking for

– technically they're doing geoarchaeology together. yes that's a subfield

– he is a tech bro and everybody thinks this is stupid and dumb also

– chewy

[crowandmousewritingco]

Another Cog in the Murder Machine

Paring: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x fiancé!reader

Words: 6.2k

Rating: R

Warnings: The reader gets purposefully misgendered, mentions of drugs and past addiction, mentions of character death (it's Tom, I'm not gonna scare y'all like that), heavy mentions of violence, blood, weapons, and cleaning injuries

Summary: You’re a teacher at a high school and you’re engaged to the local helicopter flight instructor. You’re nearing the final day of school -and your wedding- when all of a sudden there’s loud, unexplainable pops followed by the piercing sounds of screams.

Author: Mod Crow

Notes: This ended up being longer than I was anticipating and here we are. It's almost 6.3k words of pure angst. This is my entry for @sp00kymulderr's MCR challenge, and I got Teenagers. I was honestly hoping to the song, and when I did, I got super excited for this one! That being said, this is a darker 18+ fic so MDNI. If you click the "Keep Reading," you know what you're getting yourself into. (Y'all have been warned)

You tip-toed around your bedroom, careful not to wake the still sleeping man who you planned to spend the rest of your life with. Looking over to Frankie you can still hear the soft snores leaving his parted lips. Normally he’d be awake with you, but Frankie and you had a late night, the two of you had gotten caught up in wedding planning.

Turning away from Frankie you continued your path to your shared closet. Reaching for the handle you take it and quietly turn the knob and pull the door open. Hearing the all too familiar squeak of the hinges you curse under your breath. Normally Frankie was the handyman between the two of you, but you had promised to fix this. Once the squeak stopped and the door was now fully open, you flip the light switch. With the closet full of light, you start the search for what you are wearing to work.

Deciding that it would be a nice surprise for Frankie, you grab one of his well loved flannels, this one a deep forest green. With the shirt in hand, you flip the light switch once again, turning from the closet you gently push the door closed with your hip. Starting towards the dresser by the bedroom door, you look at Frankie once more and smile softly. Stopping half way to the door you turned and quietly tip-toed to Frankie. Once over him you crouch beside the bed. With your eyes level with his, you reach out and move a few strands of hair from his face. Leaning forward you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, with your lips hovering over his forehead you whisper a soft, “I love you” before standing back up and continuing to the door.

Parking your car in a spot that luckily had shade, you sit there for a moment. Today is the final week of school before summer vacation, which means two weeks till your wedding. Two weeks till you become Mr. Morales, just thinking about it made your stomach fill with butterflies. Taking a deep breath, you calm the storm of butterflies, and grab your shoulder bag. Turning off the car, you push open the door, the tepid summer air filling the car. Stepping out of the car, you swing the door shut behind you. Once closed you reach out and press the block lock button beside the handle. Hearing the beep, you turn and start towards the school.

You only recently became a teacher, specifically an environmental science teacher at the local high school. Reaching into your shoulder bag, you fish out your ID lanyard that would unlock the front door. Now standing at that said door, you run your name badge across the outside scanner. There was no beep, instead you heard the locks unlock. Grabbing the heavy door, you pull it open. Stepping into the building a chill ran down your spine, you couldn’t understand why they kept the building so cold.

Making your way to the main office you listen to the sound of your shoes echoing slightly in the empty halls. Pulling open the office door, you walk in saying a soft “hello” to the receptionists as you walk past them. Before you could go to your classroom and get things set up for the day, you needed to check your mailbox, and then get a cup of hot cocoa from the lounge. 

Just before you had a chance to check your mailbox you heard an annoying, yet familiar voice, Mr. Waters. “Oh well if it isn’t my favorite science teacher!” As much as you wished he was being sarcastic, he wasn’t. For some reason when you started here, Waters took a liking to you. A repeatedly shot down liking. Not only was he persistent, but he was also bigoted. He isn’t the first man to blatantly ignore your identity, and you know he won’t be the last.

“So you and the mister are getting married next week right? So that’ll make you a Morales, Mr. and Mrs. Morales.” You close your eyes and quite literally bite your tongue, which you nearly bit through hearing his chuckle. “That does have a nice ring to it, but personally I like Mr. and Mrs. Waters. Now that has a nice ring to it.” Opening your eyes you turn your attention right to your mailbox. 

“Oh look at me, I got lucky. No mail.” Looking at Waters you force a smile, “Have a great day Greg,” Turning from Greg, you start towards the lounge, “I like the former more, Mr. and Mr. Morales. Have a great day Mr. Waters.” 

Once out of the offices hidden behind one of the receptionists, you turn towards a small hall that leads to the teachers’ lounge. The teachers’ lounge was also about ten degrees warmer than the rest of the building, but today the lounge had the audacity to be about twenty degrees warmer. “Sweet Christ.” You mumbled under your breath as you made a beeline for the sink. Grabbing your “Flying Fish’s” mug off of the drying rack. You remember when you came home with the mug for Frankie.

The two of you had just moved into your first apartment, he had just gotten back from wherever he went off with Santi and the others. When they had returned, they all came back one man short. No one told you exactly what happened, and all you knew -at the time- was that Tom had been in an accident and he was killed. 

It took Frankie a while to come back to you after that, a lot happened between the two of you. One of those things was cocaine, and it nearly killed Frankie, but you refused to leave him. Frankie needed someone in his corner at his lowest, and you loved this man too much to allow him to go through it with anyone other than yourself. 

After fighting Frankie for months to get help, he finally caved. As you drove him to the center, he had started to get moody thanks to withdrawals. One of the biggest moods that he went though, was sadness. He kept telling you to leave him for Benny or Ironhead, that they’d be able to be a real husband for you one day. You had let him cry and get all of the noise in his head out. Once his talking turned into soft jerky sobs, you reached over and placed your hand on top of his. Swallowing back your own sobs you managed to say, “If I’m marrying anyone, it’s you Francisco. I don’t want to be a Miller, I want to be a Morales. I’ve wanted to be a Morales since our first date at that lame little arcade.” Thinking back to it caused a soft chuckle from your lips. Hearing you chuckle caused Frankie to settle a bit, “Y-Yeah, that was a pretty lame place. But that’s where I fell in love with you mijo.”

While driving to the rehab center Frankie continued to sniffle and take shaky breaths. Resting your hand on his thigh, you rubbed your thumb gently across the top of his knee. By the time the two of you had made it to the center Frankie had calmed down enough for the two of you to say your temporary goodbyes. Watching him walk into the building you could feel tears invading your waterline, blurring your vision. Frankie was originally only supposed to stay at the facility for a week, two weeks max. In the end, Frankie had stayed for nearly two months. You were torn in the beginning, you wanted him healthy and clean, but you didn’t want to spend anymore time away from him then needed. You had soon fallen into a place of contentment and happiness for the man you loved. The two of you had a goodnight call every night he was gone, and from the way it sounded, Frankie was determined to get clean for yours and his future. When it was finally time to pick him up, you brought a little gift for him from that lame little arcade. You had pointed it out then, it was a white mug with some kind of fish on it and the fish had wings, and above and bottom the fish, was the words “Flying Fishes!” From what the two of you had come to was that it must have been a funny childish expletive.

Chuckling at the memory, you smile softly, flipping the mug over and place it under the Keurig Machine. Looking at the K-Cup holder, you spun it slowly. When you saw the hot cocoa, you grabbed one and popped it into the machine. After you closed the top, you pressed the eight ounces button, and listened to the machine come to life. While you stood there waiting, you hummed softly, pulling out your phone. Turning on the screen you saw how you still had no notifications, chuckling you thought to yourself, ‘Aww I must have worn him out yesterday with the planning.’ 

Hearing the machine come to a stop, you opened the top and grabbed the used pod. Throwing it in the nearby trash can, you grabbed your mug and made your way to your classroom on the second floor. Walking through the halls of the school you took the silence that still hung in the air, it was in these moments that made you realize just how loud teenagers really are.

Once at your classroom, you grab the small ring of school keys and find your classroom key. Unlocking the door you push it open, flipping the lights on carefully with your mugged hand. Leaving the door wide open, you head to your desk to set down your things. With things out of your hands you start the process of setting up for the first period.

“Good afternoon, with today being the last week of school I don’t expect any of you to do any school work. That being said, the principal doesn’t like it when I just have you guys watch videos,” You turn towards your desk and grab the stack of paper, holding it so that the class could see you continue on, “That’s why we’re going to fill out this page while we watch some Bill Nye.” As you spoke you watched as everyone in class changed their expression when hearing you say Bill Nye. 

Splitting the stack into five small stacks you hand one to each person sitting in the front row, “Take one pass it back, if you need a pencil I still have a few in the pencil cub on the counter there.” You gesture towards what used to be a cup full of pencils, now however, it holds only seven pencils. You knew leaving them out they’d get taken, but that’s what you wanted, if someone was taking a pencil that means they needed one.

Once the papers were passed back -and the remaining back up- you asked a student closest to the switch to get the lights. You stood there a second, seeing if you’d have to make a decision for them as to who gets to do it. Before you could open your mouth however, you watched Savannah stand and get the lights. “Thank you Savannah.” Hearing her soft acknowledgement, you bent over slightly to look at your computer screen. Humming softly you click on the video and look to the front to make sure it was being projected. 

Nodding at the sight of the video you press play and grab the small remote on your desk. With the video playing you adjusted the volume so that it would disrupt either of the teachers who you shared a wall with. Once it was at the perfect volume you set the remote down next to your laptop. You took this moment to sit at your desk and enjoy the coffee you got yourself during your planning break. 

You sat there in relative quiet, only having to remind the class that this is a treat for them once, before you heard the first unfamiliar sound. You thought maybe it was a sound from outside, turning your chair to face the window, you push yourself up from the chair and scan the outside, “What the hell?” You mutter under your breath so that none of your students heard you curse. The second time you heard that sound again, it was closer, and accompanied by screams. Whipping your head to your class, you could see the realization wash over their faces, the sight of fear and terror was evident.

Quickly grabbing the remote you paused the video, “Okay guys, let’s get ourselves into lock down position,” Looking around your class you found the jocks, “Tristen, Caleb, and Kody can you guys move a couple of tables to block off the doors?” None of them answered verbally, but they didn’t need to, by the time you had finished your question the three of them were already in motion. Looking back to Savannah, you pull your keys out of your pocket and gently toss the keys to her, “Savannah, while the boys get those tables can you start leading everyone to the classroom’s back closet?” It took her a moment to respond, but when she did, you could hear the tremble in her voice. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a deep breath, opening your eyes you scan your class once more. Taking mental count you feel your breath catch in your throat, “Oh no. No no no no no, I’m missing two students. Fuck.” 

Clearing your throat, you speak softly, “Boys, don’t completely cover that last door, we’re missing two of our friends. I have to be able to open that door in case it’s one of them. Now, go to the closet. Close the door behind you guys, don’t open the door for anyone unless you hear me say it’s okay or if you hear me knock on the door in the beat of Bill Nye’s theme song. Okay?” You stared at the three boys in front of you, you could tell that Tristen -the biggest of the three- wanted to say something, probably something to argue that it isn’t safe for you out there. Before any of the boys could say anything however, more pops rang out, followed by more screams. 

Looking at the three of  them you gesture for them to go, this time, no one tries to say anything, they simply listen. Once the closet door is shut you quietly make your way back to your desk for your cell phone. Opening the top left draw you reach in and quickly find your phone. Once out of the draw, you don’t bother closing it. Unlocking the screen you saw that Frankie had texted you sometime during the start of the final period.

‘Hey baby, you didn’t wake me up with you this morning. So I didn’t get to give you a proper goodbye this morning. I’ll make it up to you tonight ;)’

Reading his text you couldn’t help but let out a sad laugh. Feeling the tears well in your eyes you decided to sit on the ground behind your desk so that you were out of sight. Take a shaky breath in, you hit respond.

‘Hey babe, sorry I didn’t wake you this morning…I really should have. Something is happening at the school so I may be late tonight. I love you with all my heart Francisco Morales’

*Frankie’s POV*

The buzzing in his back pocket caused Frankie to stand up from his bent over position he was in. Grabbing the shop rag from his other back pocket, Frankie wiped the grease from his hands. Once his hands were clean, grabbing his phone he unlocked it and read over it. Reading that last sentence, he felt an unexplainable chill to run down his spine. In the five years the two of you had been together, you have never once used his whole name, not unless you were yelling at him. 

Without responding to your text, Frankie tried to call you. And when you didn’t answer that first time, he tried again. And again. And again…By the fifth time of no answer, he took his well-worn hat off, and raked his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. Replacing his hat, Frankie did the only thing he could think of, call Pope. Navigating through his phone he found Pope’s name, and hit the little phone icon. Bringing the phone to his ear, Frankie fidget with the metal band that sat around his ring finger.

“Hey Fish, what’s up? Change your mind on letting me host the bachelor's party?” Hearing Pope chuckle, caused his breath to hitch, and based on Pope’s reaction he heard Frankie.

“Frankie, what’s wrong?” Hearing the difference in Pope’s voice made Frankie close his eyes, and sigh out. 

“Santi, I could very well be overreacting, but Marito…he isn’t answering his phone. And before you say,” Frankie did his best Santiago voice, which didn’t remotely sound like him. “Fish he’s a teacher, he’s teaching,” Dropping the voice he continued, “Before I called he texted ‘I love you with my heart Francisco Morales’.” Frankie stood there a second, even Santi knew that Fish’s whole name never comes out of your mouth if you weren’t arguing with him over something, which had been years at this point.

“How many times did you try?” Any hint of joking that was in Santi’s voice before was completely gone. Frankie knows this voice, it’s the voice that Santi uses when he’s going over mission plans, or if he’s about to give bad news. Clearing his throat, Frankie reached up and scratched the back of his neck.

“I don’t know, five maybe six times. Why does that matter? If he didn’t answer call two, why does it mat-” 

“Catfish, shut up. It matters because it gives you an idea of how long he’s been M.I.A. I would say if he was surprising you by showing up early, he’d be too busy driving, but your guy's car has that hands free answering option.” Frankie closed his eyes, he knew Pope was trying to lighten the mood. Sighing softly Frankie went to respond, when his phone started buzzing against his head. 

Pulling the phone away to see the screen. Seeing your name pop up, Frankie quickly offered a ‘good-bye’ to Santi before answering the call. 

“Hermoso, what’s going on? Is everything okay? Do I need to co-” Frankie could hear your ragged breathing, and then he heard your hushed, pained voice.

*Your POV*

“H-Hey Frankie. Look, don’t come to the school, it isn't safe right now. I just wanted to hear your voice, and tell you that I love you.” You had stopped trying to fight the tears about ten minutes ago, when you were attempting to help an injured student get into your classroom. The student was just out of your reach, he had to have been a freshman because you didn't recognize him, and he didn’t know your name when he reached out for you. 

You couldn’t help but look down to your hand, it was splattered with blood, none of which belonged to you. Clearing your throat, you went to continue in your hushed tone, but Frankie was faster. As you listened to him, you squeezed your eyes close and bit back your sobs. 

“Marito, what is going on? And before you say nothing, I can hear it in your voice. And, and, before you ask, yes I’m already on my way to the school.” Letting out a shaky sigh, you drop your head.

“F-Fine. There’s an…an active shooter. I’m fine, my students were safe last time I was in my classroom. I know what I did was stupid, why would I leave the safety of my classroom? There was a student who was shot in the thigh, laying about three feet away from my door. I thought maybe I could go get him and help him back. But when I got in reach, he was shot. In front of me. I couldn’t…I couldn’t save him. His…his head was…it was…” You kept trying to finish your sentence but it just wouldn’t leave your mouth.

“Shhh Marito, I know. I know baby, I’m almost there. So is Pope. Were you shot? Are you okay?” Hearing Frankie ripped you from the scene replaying in your head. Shaking your head, you swallow dryly.

“I-I’m fine. I wasn’t hit, I think I was able to outrun whoever it was. I know my kids are fine because I locked the classroom door before I tried for the student. I was able to get into the teacher’s bathroom on the floor below my classroom. Frankie, am…is this how I’m going to die?” The thought wouldn’t leave your brain, no matter how hard you tried to force that thought out.

“Hey. No. None of that, do you hear me? You aren’t dying in a school bathroom, do I make myself clear mijo? Now, I need you to breathe with me, si? Just like how you taught me when I got back. In for four,” You followed with Frankie, you took a shaky breath in. “Bueno, now hold for two.” Normally this would be easy for you, holding your breath for two seconds is nothing, but right now it feels impossible. “You’re doing great Marito, now out for six.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you slowly let your breath out.

“Thanks Frankie, I heard sirens not too long ago so I can’t imagine I’ll be in here too much longer right? They sent everyone out here right? I-I mean, this is a building full of children, and people wouldn’t let anything hap-” The sound of the bathroom’s door slamming open caused you to slap a hand over your mouth.

“Marito, what's happening? Is everything okay?” You wanted to answer Frankie, you wanted to scream out for help, but you couldn’t. As you sat there on the toilet, knees pulled up to your chest. As you sat there, hand over your mouth, you could still hear Frankie on the other side of the phone, and it seemed like he may have caught on. Frankie went from asking you if you were okay and still there to softly talking to you, “Just stay quiet” and “It’s okay, you’re getting out of there”, the occasional “I love you” could be heard from Frankie. It wasn’t until you heard him say, “I’m here, there are cops everywhere Marito.”

You watched as black gym shoes walked past your stall door to the furthest one, you felt yourself relax slightly. Moving your hand you take a shaky breath in, you wanted to tell Frankie that you loved him back, but now you’re set out to say it back to his face. 

When the footsteps stopped you carefully placed your feet on the ground. The moment your feet hit the floor however, there was a loud metal hitting metal sound. The sound caused you to jerk your feet back up to the toilet. Hearing the sound a second time it registered exactly what the sound was, and when the realization hit, it felt like being hit by a train, ‘Oh God, they’re kicking the stall doors open.’ Squeezing your eyes shut, you buried your head in your knees.

*SLAM* 

One door closer, you knew it wouldn’t take long for the shooter to open your stall, or at least try. You thought you were being clever locking the stall door, but now it may have been for nothing. 

Hearing the stall next to you get forced open, you tried your hardest to hold in any noises, but the suddenness of the slamming sound caused you to jump slightly, a gasp leaving your mouth. You couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that the shooter did hear, but it was obvious Frankie heard.

“Mijo what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Listening to Frankie you could hear a familiar tone, a tone you’ve only heard a couple of times. ‘He’s petrified, and I can’t tell him that it’ll all be ok-’ You were ripped from your thoughts when there was a bang at your stall door. 

“Oh you think you’re smart huh? All you’ve done for me is made it easier, it’ll be like shooting for a fish in a barrel.” Staring at the stall door, you could feel your hot tears running down your face. As you sat there waiting, you decided to talk. With eyes closed, you whispered softly to Frankie, “Thank you for being you. I love you Fra-”

*POP POP POP* 

*Frankie’s POV*

“Thank you for being you. I love you Fra-” Then three -unmistakable- gunshots rang out. Standing there, phone pressed to his ear, he wanted to call out to you but he couldn’t. It was like reliving the death of Tom, only this time it was him who lost someone. Sure when Tom died he felt like he lost a small part of himself, he lost a friend, damn, it felt like he lost a brother. But you? You were the love of his life, someone who refused to give up on him, even when things got dark after Tom’s death. Moving the phone from his ear, Frankie hung up the call. Looking around the crowd he managed to find Santi. Speed walking over to the Santi, Frankie kept his eyes down, hiding his face to the best of his abilities with the bill of his worn hat.

“God Fish, you look like shit.” Frankie raised his gaze so that his eyes locked with his friends. Staring at him Frankie closed his eyes, reaching up he wiped his eyes. Opening his eyes once more, Frankie cleared his throat, it felt like his heart was in his throat.

 “There were three gunshots as he went to tell me he loved me. There was no sound after that. Pope, he’s…he was shot three times, in a bathroom stall. He’s…Pope I-I think he’s…” Frankie couldn’t bring himself to say the word, dead. 

Dropping his gaze, Frankie stared at the ground, he had lost a friend and that nearly killed him. Without you? Without you will kill him. All Frankie ever wanted was to start a family with you, but he can’t. You were ripped away from him by the hands of some pissed off teenager. 

Looking to the school, Frankie could feel his blood starting to boil. “Why the fuck aren’t these guys going in there?! There are kids in there and they’re all just standing around like this is all some kind of fucking game.” Looking at Santi, he noticed that Santi had been staring at him. As the two of them stood there, Frankie shook his head softly before looking Santi in the eyes and gave him an all too familiar look, the ‘I’m fixing this myself’ kind of look. Santi looking between Frankie and the school, he understood why Frankie was willing to go in head first, but if on the chance you were still alive Santi would be damned to let his friend die.

“You aren’t going in there, Fish.” Frankie watched as Santi crossed his arms over his chest. Frankie couldn’t help but clench his fists a few times before relaxing slightly. Frankie closed his eyes and  thought for a moment, ‘It’s obvious he won’t go in there with me, I’ll just go in alone.’ Opening his eyes, Frankie gave Santi a nod.

“Fine, I’m not going in.” Looking at the growing crowd that was being held back by the extra officers, he continued on, “But I’m going up there so I can see if he gets carried out and is alive.” Without letting Santi get a word in, Frankie sped walked through the crowd, shoving his way to the front. 

Once at the front, Frankie scanned the area. ‘Getting around the cops this way is going to be next to impossible.’ Looking at the side of the school, Frankie saw that there were officers going in through some of the school’s side doors. 

‘Bingo.’

*Your POV*

*POP POP POP*

You had always thought the volume of a gun going off was the worst part, because it had been for the longest time. You had never been shot before, so when you opened your eyes, not feeling anything at first you were confused. The moment you looked down however, you saw that there were two -growing- spots of what looked the color of mud, the dark maroon of your blood dulling the green. When the searing pain hit your brain finally allowed you to connect the dots. You’ve been shot twice. Luckily, the third shot missed your face.

Clamping your hand over your mouth, your left hand goes to cover the wound that seemed to be bleeding the worst, the shot through your upper right bicep. Keeping your hand over your mouth, you stayed as still as possible, not wanting the kid on the other side of the door to shoot again. When you finally heard the bathroom door open and close again, you dropped the hand from your mouth. 

Looking down at yourself again, you put your now free, shaky hand over the second hole. Pressing your hand on the wound on your right side you felt a white hot pain that radiated from where your hand sat all the way to the middle of your back. Squeezing your eyes shut you felt an unfamiliar tightness in your chest. Trying to take a deep breath, you feel the searing pain again, this time worse. Nodding to yourself, you lift your head and look at the stall door. You could see through the forced holes that were now there. Moving your now blood painted hand from your chest, you grabbed a hold of the handrail and pulled yourself to your feet. The moment you were upright, you felt yourself wobble on your feet. Taking a moment you try to calm the spinning that your head was doing.

When the spinning finally became tolerable, you unlocked the stall door. Walking out of the stall you looked around for a moment. You knew fighting would be pointless with you in this state, so now you had a choice to make. Barricade the doors? Or try to get back to your classroom? As you stood there thinking, you began to realize something. It was getting harder to breathe. 

Looking down to your side you pulled your hand away slightly, feeling the air hit the wound it ran a chill down your spine. Looking at yourself in the mirror you wobbly walked towards the mirror. Once in front of the mirror you grabbed the edge sink, your blood covered hands painting the once stark white with a bright shade of red. Looking at yourself in the mirror you could tell you weren't in a good enough state to attempt going back to your classroom. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you bit back the cries that wanted to escape, not because you didn’t want to be found. No, it was because breathing was now getting harder, the only thing that didn’t cause an excruciating amount of pain was short pant-like breaths. Dropping your head, you opened your eyes. Staring down at the flannel you thought for a moment, you had to get the bleeding to slow, and you could think of one way to help the slow flowing waterfall of blood that was leaving through the hole in your bicep. 

Standing up right, you carefully unbutton the flannel. Once fully unbuttoned you slowly slide the blood soaked shirt off. With the fabric now off of your body, you could look at yourself in the mirror a bit better. As you stand there, taking in your exhausted and battered form, you mindlessly find the hole in the sleeve of the once perfectly worn and loved flannel. After a moment of merely playing with the edges of holes, you tore the flannel. You continued to tear the flannel until it no longer resembled a shirt.

Taking one of the pieces you carefully place the middle of it under your arm. Holding the scrap of fabric in place with your body, you manage to somehow tie it over the hole. It could have been tighter, but something was better than nothing. Looking at yourself in the mirror again, your eyes focused on the hole on your side. Or at least that’s what your eyes tried to do.

As you stood there, you could feel a fog creep into your brain. The fog was only the beginning, soon you could feel your limbs getting heavier and heavier. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head slightly. Opening your eyes, you looked from the mirror to the pile of scrap fabric and to the door. If you stayed in here there was no telling how it would take for someone to find you, and you might not make it if you aren’t found sooner rather than sooner.

Grabbing a couple of scraps, you wadded one up and pressed it to the hole on your side. Clenching your teeth through the pain, you gently push off of the sink, and with wobbly legs, make your way to the bathroom door. Grabbing the handle you push it open slightly. You slowly peek your head out of the room. Listening to the deathly still air, you could still hear the sounds of screams and gun fire, but it sounded like it was coming from the other side of the school. 

Slipping out of the bathroom, you press the wad of fabric a little hard. Looking down the hallway, you could feel yourself being torn in two. Do you leave for your own help? Or do you go back to your classroom and protect your kids? Thinking it over for a moment, you nod softly and make your way to the stairs. You only had to go up one flight of stairs to your floor, and find your classroom, you could do that. You’ve been doing it for an entire school year.

Once at the bottom of the steps, you placed a shaky bloodied hand on the railing. Pulling yourself up the stairs, you had to stop every couple of steps. Without being able to suck in full breaths, climbing the stairs was harder than you were expecting. After what felt like an eternity, you were finally on the third floor. 

Standing on the top of the stairs you listened to the air once more. Things were quiet for a moment, but when the silence was shattered you nearly jumped out of your skin. The source of the disturbance sounded like it was just under you. Swallowing dryly, you pushed off the stair railing. Walking down the hall you felt the fog come back, only heavier this time. Turning slightly, you made a beeline for the wall of forest green lockers. Reaching out, you felt the chill of the metal. Holding yourself up right, you pressed the wad of fabric against yourself harder, the radiating pain making you grit your teeth. 

Trying to focus on the little breaths that you can take in, you try to force the fog away. After a moment of trying to clear the fog, you registered the sound of footsteps coming towards you. You could also feel your hands getting heavy and the pain that was once howling in your brain, had silenced. You didn’t hurt anymore. Turning your head towards the person, you tried to focus your eyes on them, it took you a moment but when you felt relief wash over your battered body. But that was the last thing you saw before you felt yourself slowly slip into a barely alive, unconscious state.

*Frankie’s POV*

Sticking close to the walls of the school, Frankie moved through the maze of halls. When he finally found a flight of steps, he heard those all too familiar pops. Frankie couldn’t tell what floor they came from, all he knew was that they were happening on one of the floors above, maybe even on your floor. With that thought in head he felt a fire light under him as he made his way up the school’s stairs. 

Once on the landing between the first and second floor, Frankie reached around to his back, pulling the handgun from his waist line. After the mission when Tom died, he had become weary of carrying the weapon with him everywhere. So instead, he decided to keep it tucked on his side of the bed if the need for it arose. What Frankie had never imagined using it for this, he knew if it came down to it he’d have to shoot the kid doing this, but the feeling in the bottom of stomach told him what he already knew. Frankie didn’t have it in him to kill the kid, no matter what he’s done, he wants to be a dad with you. He has a kid now, she’s only six but he knew he would be furious if some random person killed her. 

Shaking the thoughts from his head Frankie made a beeline for the closest wall. With his back pressed against the wall he carefully looked up and down the hallway. As he looked towards the way of your classroom he saw something that looked like someone was bending over slightly, and they had definitely been shot in the upper arm. Readying the weapon in front of him, Frankie slowly and cautiously walked towards the figure. 

As the distance between him and the mystery person, he soon recognized the person. He had spent the last five years learning as much as he could about you. Relaxing his stance, he quietly called to you. At first he used the nickname that he came up with, marito, when you didn’t respond to that he called out your name. When you still didn’t react Frankie could feel anxiety fill the pit of his stomach. By the time he was several feet from you, he watched you turn your head and look at him. Seeing your face caused Frankie to stop in his tracks for a moment, you were paler than normal and you were covered in sweat and blood, as to whether or not it was all yours he couldn’t tell. As he continued to study you, he noticed you slowly start to sway slightly on your feet before collapsing. 

Rushing to you, Frankie attempted to catch you, and he had. But in that process he hurt himself as well. As you fell Frankie reached out and managed to get a hold of your arms so that he could pull you into him, while pulling you into his grasp he had stepped forward, his foot landing in a small puddle of blood. Trying to take that small extra step to you, his foot slipped in the liquid. Catching you isn’t what hurt him. What hurt him was the way in which he protected you from slamming into the floor, twisting and attempting to pull you on to him. Laying on the floor, Frankie groaned slightly. He hadn’t managed to land square on his back, instead his entire left side slammed on to the cold linoleum flooring. Opening his eyes, Frankie looked to his chest. He had managed to catch you and it seems you didn’t meet the same cold hard fate as him. 

Trying to carefully move you off of him, Frankie felt a shock of pain from his left arm. Clenching his jaw, he let his head fall back onto the ground. As Frankie laid there thinking, he heard doors being thrown open down the hall. “Fuck.” Frankie murmured the curse to himself. 

Looking at your unconscious form, Frankie clenched his jaw once more. Trying to move you again, Frankie pushed through the pain in his arm. Once he had managed to move to the ground beside him, he was quick to his feet. Looking down at you, Frankie breathed out, crouching down, carefully he slid his fine hand and arm under the bend of your knees. With his injured arm he, once again, fought through the pain and managed to pick you up. You were by no means too heavy for Frankie, but with only one fully functioning arm. Breathing through the pain, Frankie looked down the hall in the direction of your classroom. The same direction as the sound from earlier. Thinking for a moment Frankie scanned the area around him, when his eyes fell on the custodial closet door he made his way towards it. As he drew closer he said a silent prayer that the door would be unlocked. 

Once at the door Frankie blindly felt around for the knob for a moment with his good hand. Grabbing onto the door knob Frankie breathed in and unknowingly, held his breath. Feeling the door knob twist Frankie let out the breath he was unaware of holding. Pushing the door open, he scanned the room. It was a small room but it had a way to lock the door from the inside and it could be barricaded if needed. Walking over to a relatively empty area, he gently sat you on the floor, back placed on the wall. Kneeling beside you Frankie carefully took off the bandage you had made for your bicep. Once it was finally off, Frankie looked around for the first aid box. When he failed to find it by looking around he stood up and walked towards the lone desk. Pulling open the draws he saw that the first two he opened were filled with junk, the third one had tools, and the fourth one had the first aid kit. 

Grabbing the kit, Frankie spun on his heel and walked back over to you. Kneeling down once more, unzipped the kit. Looking around inside Frankie found the things he knew would help, the rolls of crepe bandage, gauze, and finally a small bottle labeled ‘saline’ that was in the kit. Thanks to his time served, then the contracted missions, and Benny’s matches, he had become pretty good at bandaging people up. 

Before Frankie started disinfecting the wound, he gently pulled you forward. Looking at the back of your arm Frankie found what he was looking for, an exit wound. Gently leaning you back against the wall he started preparing to wrap the wound. Grabbing a couple of squares of gauze, he picked up the saline and ripped the top off. Once open, he poured some on the bandages. After wetting the gauze he carefully cleaned the area around your bicep wound. Frankie had managed to clean a majority of the blood that had dried before he picked up a roll of the gauze and made quick work of wrapping it around the still bleeding wound. Once it was wrapped, he picked up the crepe wrap and wrapped that around as well. 

Moving his attention down, he carefully moved your hand and the blood soaked wad of fabric that you were holding to your side. Swallowing dryly, Frankie could feel panic start to swim through his veins. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the tears that wanted to pour down his face. Opening his eyes, he carefully reached around your back. Feeling around a chilling realization hit him, there was no exit wound this time, which meant you still had a bullet in you. Grabbing on to the collar of the undershirt you had decided to throw on, he pulled, ripping the shirt down the front to expose your bare chest and stomach to him. Scanning over the rest of your chest and stomach Frankie noted that you had only been hit with two of the three shots. 

Turning his attention back to the first aid kit, he rummaged through it once more, his slightly bloodied hands painting some things with a light coating. Grabbing the weird plastic tweezers that practically every first aid kit has. Looking back at you, he also decided to pull out a small amount of alcohol prep towelettes. Tearing open one of the towelettes, he wiped the tweezers down, setting the pad on your outstretched legs. With the cleaned tweezers, his eyes fell to the bleeding wound, as he carefully placed the tweezers on the towelette he had laid down moments earlier. It was obvious that this wound was bleeding worse than the other one, so he knew he’d have to work fast. 

Shaking his thoughts away, Frankie grabbed a few more squares of gauze and the saline. Using almost the rest of the liquid, he wet the gauze in hand and started cleaning the area around the entry wound. Once most of the dried blood was gone, he picked the tweezers up and the remaining saline he took a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time he’s dug a bullet out of someone, but it is the first time he’s done it to someone who he loved like you. Leaning forward he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, with lips hovering over your clammy skin he whispered a soft sorry.

Leaning back, Frankie turned his attention to the wound once more, dumping a small amount of saline onto the wound he watched as it cleared the area enough for him to find it with his finger. Eyes flicking to your face for only a moment, closing his eyes Frankie slowly pressed his finger into the wound. Upon doing so, it was enough to pull you from your unconscious state, pain flooding every sense for a moment. 

*Your POV*

You weren’t sure where you were when you felt your consciousness slam back into you. Eyes shooting open, you go to make a sound of pain, but you feel a hand clamp over your mouth. Panic and pain course through your veins, you follow the stranger’s arm up his body. When your eyes landed on Frankie’s worried face, you wanted to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay, but that was a promise you could make sure came true. Closing your eyes again, you leaned your head back, resting it on the wall. 

Feeling Frankie remove his hand, you swallowed dryly, slightly numb to the pain. That was until you felt Frankie’s finger bump into what you were assuming was the bullet. Slapping your own hands over your mouth you squeezed your eyes shut, tears flowing down your cheeks despite your eyes being closed. As soon as his finger hit the bullet, he pulled his finger from the hole. Your jaw falling open, you suck in short and pained pants of air, even if you wanted to scream out in pain, you didn’t think you were capable of doing so. 

“I’m sorry mijo, I had to figure out where the bullet was. This next bit though…” You watched Frankie avert his eyes from yours, you knew what that meant. This was going to hurt way worse than earlier. 

“Do…it…” Your voice was airy and soft. Seeing him look back at you with an ‘are you sure?’ Nodding softly, you closed your eyes once more, not wanting to see it coming nor happen. 

“Okay. This shouldn’t take me more than five minutes.” Frankie spoke softly. As you go to respond you feel a searing hot pain in your side. Clenching your jaw, you held in the pained screams that wanted to escape. 

As you sat there pain on the front of your brain, you heard someone try the door. Eyes shooting open once more, you twist your head to the door. As does Frankie. Looking at him you shake your head and talk softly, “Keep…going…” With the verbal instruction Frankie nodded softly and continued his work at retrieving the bullet. 

Feeling the white hot searing pain once more, grinding your teeth, you hold back the screams of pain that want to rip their way through your throat. After what felt like an eternity, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Looking down to the wound, you could tell it was irritated from all the attention it just received. You could also now see that it had started bleeding -just slightly- more now. Without talking, you watched as Frankie rolled up a small thing of gauze before looking at you. You knew what the look was, he had given it to you only moments early, and once again you responded with a nod. The feeling of the dry gauze being forced into the opening surprisingly hurt less than you were expecting, or maybe it’s because it isn’t moving around. 

Once the gauze was packed in, he picked up the final gauze squares he had grabbed out of the kit. Pressing the gauze into your side he looked at you and nodded his head towards the gauze. Raising a shaky hand, you place it on top of the gauze to hold it with slight pressure, but mostly to make sure they don't fall. You watched as Frankie once more dug around the first aid kit, this time pulling out a roll of bandage tape. 

As you watched Frankie tear off a few pieces you could feel the fatigue and brain fog coming back. You tried to say something to Frankie so he knew but your voice was failing you. With the small bit of strength you had left you moved your hand from the gauze and on to his thigh. You watch through blurry eyes as he lifts his head to look at you, and once more you feel yourself slip into the quiet black.

*Frankie’s POV*

Watching you pass out once more, Frankie nearly drops the wound dressing. Luckily he had leaned you against the wall because instead of falling forward or sideways, your head leans back on the wall. 

Looking back to the supplies in hand, Frankie finished with the pieces of tape and an extra gauze. Placid the gauze on top of the ones that you were holding in place only moments earlier. With the dressing on your side securely, Frankie starts thinking. If the two of you stayed here, you could die. If he left you here to get help anything could happen. If he carried you out with him there was a chance that the two of you could die, but Frankie wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

Taking a steading breath, Frankie stood up, groaning at the pain in both his -now bruising- left arm but also his knees. Once standing up right he looked down at you, he could see you breathing, but something about it seemed…wrong. Feeling that familiar heaviness in his stomach Frankie grabbed the brim of his worn hat, lifted it off of his sweat-dampened hair, and scratched the top of his head. Replacing his hat, Frankie crouched down once more. Slipping his arms under you, he thought for a moment of the best way to carry you out. Obviously, the first thought was how he was holding you now, your legs bent at the knee over one arm and your back and head being supported by the other. There was a problem though, if he had to arm himself, it would be impossible to. Planting a soft kiss to your forehead, Frankie carefully -and painfully for him- laid you over his left shoulder. Your head hung down his back while your legs were in front.

Looking over the room once more, Frankie grabbed the gun from his waistband once more. With his gun in hand and you over his shoulder, he turned his attention to the door. Walking the short distance, Frankie hesitantly reached out and grabbed the door knob. Before pushing the door open, he planted his ear to the door and listened. After a moment of waiting and listening, he pulled his head back and carefully twisted the knob. Pushing the door open, Frankie glanced around the immediate area he saw that was empty of people. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, Frankie snuck out the room. Catching the door before it closed all the way, he slowed the close, not wanting to make a loud thump sound. 

Once in the hall, Frankie did one more scan. When he was certain the area was empty, Frankie made a beeline for the stairs that he had ascended some time ago. Going down the stairs was far easier on his knees, and he was thankful for that. Once Frankie stood at the top of the last set of steps, he stopped once more and listened. He could hear something but it was too muffled to pinpoint what it was. 

Putting the gun away, Frankie pulled out his cellphone. Turning it on Frankie navigated his way to his contact book. Scrolling through the list he found the man he knew would help. Santiago. Clicking the small phone icon, he raised it to his right ear. Listening to the ringing Frankie could hear whatever was making that sound earlier, slowly getting closer, though he couldn’t tell if it was on the second floor or the first. 

“Fish? Where the hell did you go man? Your truck is still here and yo-” Frankie could hear the worry in Santi’s voice, though was not the time. 

“Pope, I need you to get the spare key from the toolbox in the bed of the truck. Once you have the key, drive to the east side of the building. I-I think the door number I came in through was 7. You’re also going to want to open the door before I get there. There is no time to explain, just get a move on it.” Without waiting for Santi’s response Frankie hung up the call. Pocketing his cell phone, Frankie retrieved the gun. 

Taking one more deep breath, Frankie started down the final stairs. Now on the first floor, he scanned the area. As he scanned the area, Frankie heard a familiar sound, one that took a moment to click. Turning to look behind him, he locked eyes with some kid standing at the top of the stairs Frankie had just come down from. 

“Kid, you should stop now, you can just drop the weapons and walk outside.” Frankie reluctantly raised the gun in his hand, really didn’t want to shoot the kid, but if he gave him no choice… Being pulled from his thoughts, Frankie’s eyes refocused on the movement of the kid doing the same to Frankie. Slowly backing up Frankie looking around the kid, something else he could shoot. 

Raising his gun, Frankie fired at the window behind the kid. Frankie, not wanting to stand around and watch the glass, took that moment when the kid turned to do the same. Running towards the exit, Frankie could feel his shoulder growing damp. Looking at the open door, Frankie turned towards it. Running through the doorway, Frankie threw the door shut. Pressing the button on the handle, Frankie heard it click lock. Doing the same with the deadbolt, Frankie quickly -yet cautiously- he pulled you from his shoulder. 

Sitting you on the floor, your back being supported by the wall, Frankie looked over your wound dressings. Muttering out a soft curse, he noticed your side dressing. You were bleeding more than he was expecting, taking off his well loved hat Frankie raked his fingers through his wettened hair. Replacing the hat, Frankie turned to look around the room. As he turned Frankie’s eyes landed on the bodies of what appeared to be school staff of some kind. Swallowing dryly, Frankie turned back around and looked down at you. Crouching down, Frankie placed two shaky fingers to the side of your neck. As he searched for a moment, he did something he hadn’t done since before leaving for the army, Frankie prayed.

When Frankie’s fingers found your pulse, he felt himself relax, but only a little. While he had found your pulse, it was weak and barely there. Moving his hand from your neck, dropping his hand to yours, gently picking up your hand he brings it to his lips. Planting a gentle kiss on the engagement he proposed to you with. Pressing your hand to his face Frankie took a steadying breath, pushing past the pain he was currently in. 

“I made a promise that I was going to marry you one way or another Marito, and I’m keeping that promise.” Pressing one more kiss to the ring, Frankie placed your hand on your lap. Standing up, Frankie picked you up and once again, put you over his shoulder. Whispering a soft ’sorry’ to you, Frankie grabbing his gun one final time. Unlocking the room’s deadbolt, Frankie paused for a moment hearing the deadbolt retract back into the door. Standing there the only thing Frankie was able to hear was his pounding heart in his chest. Deciding to continue on, Frankie grabbed the handle and twisted it just enough for the lock to pop. 

Waiting for another moment, Frankie took a deep breath and slowly pushed the door open, head peeking around the door towards where he had run from. When Frankie didn’t see anyone, he pushed the door the rest of the way open and started towards the door he had snuck in through. As he made his way towards the door Frankie felt a weird chill run down his back, it was too quiet. With the door nearing, Frankie could see his truck just outside on the road, Santi standing next to the open passenger door. Once at the door Frankie pushed on the bar that ran along just under the window.

As the door opened, Frankie watched as Santi raised his eyes from his phone screen to the two of you. Santi’s face going from confusion to something akin to a mix of panic and fear. Once close enough to the truck he could hear Santi’s distraught voice.

“Holy shit Frankie…Is he still..” Frankie pushed past his friend and carefully put you in his truck. 

“He’s alive, but barely. So get in the goddamn truck drive.” Frankie looked at his friend, despite his voice sounding cold and angry, the look on his face told a different story. Frankie’s face was painted with terror and pain, which was enough for his friend. Without talking Santi nodded and headed to the driver's side. As Frankie climbed into the truck he looked at his friend, the tears he had tried too hard to hold in till he had a moment alone. Allowing his head to roll, Frankie -now looking at the roof of his truck- felt a hand on his thigh. Looking down at his lap, Frankie sees your blood-stained hand, a small wave of relief washing over him. 

*Your POV*

A month later

Leaning forward slightly, you let the nurse responsible for your oxygen therapy, take off the oxygen mask. Looking at her you smile, offering a small nod as a ‘thank you’. As you carefully stood from the hospital chair, you looked towards the therapy area door open. Normally the only people allowed back here through the doors are hospital staff and other therapy patients, so when your eyes fell on the all too familiar sun kissed skin and the deep espresso brown hair, you could help but perk up.

“Frankie.” Your voice was weak and mouth dry, after your therapy your mouth was always like a dried sponge. It seems that your fiancé had remembered your complaints because almost as if he knew what your next question would be, Frankie pulled his hand from behind his back. At first you were confused, you were expecting a small Styrofoam cup full of ice chips, like you’d normally get from one of the nurses. It was like Frankie could read your mind, because as he stepped closer he chuckled softly.

“I…I uh…” You could see Frankie’s cheeks grow pink. Frankie was a massive teddy bear on the inside, so whenever he did something for you he would start to get flustered, and you loved it. “I got you one of those cherry agua frescas from that little in the wall ma and pa bodega down the street from your favorite book store, I thought you might like something a little...normal?” Taking the cup from Frankie, you closed the distance between the two of you and pulled him into a hug, careful not to bump your still healing surgery scars. Feeling Frankie wrap his -non-casted- arm around you. Staying in the hug for a moment, you breathed in Frankie’s cologne. 

Pulling away you looked up to Frankie, pressed a quick to his lips, then pulled away, and took a much needed drink of the tart drink. Swallowing the cold liquid, a pleased sigh escaped from your lips. Offering the cup to Frankie, he shook his head softly.

“I’m okay Marito, I got a coffee with the guys while I waited for you. By the way, if Benny asks me one more time what it felt like to break an elbow, I might show him.” You tried to chuckle alongside Frankie, but you still couldn’t without pain and the risk of re-collapsing your lung. 

After you had finally woken up in the hospital, it had been a week since the shooting. You couldn’t remember all of the details after seeing Frankie coming towards you in the hallway, and some of the events before then were spotty. From what the doctors -and Frankie- say is you ended up getting hit twice, once in the left bicep which required minor surgery, and one in the the right side. That shot was the one that almost killed you, at least that’s what the doctors said. Apparently the bullet had just barely grazed the bottom of your right lung causing it to collapse, which in turn caused the breathing problems and chest pains, those you do remember. 

Frankie on the other hand had gotten out far luckier than you. When you had passed out, he caught you, but you made him slip, or at least that’s how Frankie tells it. According to the doctors, Frankie’s break could have been far worse than just an elbow, if he had fallen differently. In addition to the broken elbow, the slip -then subsequently all of the running- Frankie had nearly tore his MCL, turns out years of traversing uneven environments has an effect on your knees.

Taking another sip, you motioned for the door, “Come on.” You lead the way from the inpatient care wing to the parking lot of the hospital. Once outside you stopped walking, closing your eyes and turning your face to the warm sun, you basked in its warmth. A pleased hum sounding from your throat as a happy but lazy smile slipped onto your face.

“As handsome as I think you are and as much as I’d love to just stand here and admire you, the boys have a surprise for you back at the house.” Opening your eyes, you looked at Frankie. One of the first things you had told him after they started discussing your release, was that you didn’t want some big party or something, you just wanted to go home and relax while you recovered, and it had been that way till now. 

“Frankie, I told you guys that I didn’t want a party or something.” You whined softly, a pout forming on your face.

Without talking, Frankie grabbed your hand and took the lead to the truck. A pleased smile plastered on his face.

“Don’t worry it isn’t a party,” Frankie looked at you, a sparkle in his dark chocolate eyes. “Or something.” He did his best impression of you. Hearing his impression you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully.

“I do not sound like that.” You playfully argued, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. As you got closer to the truck you could see someone leaning against the truck. Getting closer you could see who it was.

“Well look who’s alive.” Santiago said in a playful teasing tone. “It’s good to know that the doctors fixed you up Marito, if you had to stay in there any longer, I would have had to come stay in your room with you just to get away from Fish.” Santi chuckled, pulling you into a hug. Feeling his warmth as you hugged him, you relaxed a bit.

You loved Pope, but you loved him in a way that you had never felt before, a familial love. A brotherly love. Growing up you were an only child, but then you met Benny, and you couldn't help but hang around him. You had just started college and he was trying to make a name for himself in the MMA scene. Somehow he had managed to talk you into coming to one of his fights while you were at a bar one night before finals. While there though, you got to meet the others. Tom was -as you’d learn is just how he is- quiet and withdrawn, Will was sweet and on the quiet side, then there were the other two. It was obvious from the moment that your eyes met Frankie’s dark brown ones, that he was falling…and so were you. As for Santi. Santiago definitely found you adorable, but he found you adorable in the sense of wanting to protect you, so from that day on he assumed the role of an older brother, the others soon figuring out ways to fit into your life.

Pulling away from the hug, you looked up to Santi, he motioned for the truck. You knew what he was saying despite not using any words. Looking at Frankie, you could see that he was already standing with the door open for you. You couldn’t help but smile at the man who you’d be calling your husband once he had his cast off and once your wounds healed enough. Closing the distance between Frankie and you, you could see that loop-sided smile you had grown to adore. Right outside the truck, you pressed your lips to his cheek then climbed in. 

The drive from the hospital to Frankie and your shared place was a short one. Seeing the house come into sight, you smiled and rested your head on Frankie’s shoulder. As Santi pulled the trunk up the driveway, you felt Frankie plant a kiss on top of your head. Once the truck was off, Frankie climbed out and held his hand out for you to take, which you did. Climbing out of the truck, with a small bit of help from Frankie, you were careful not to twist, stretch, or move wrong, scared you might hurt and mess up the work the doctors did when finishing you up.

As you stood on the driveway, hand still in Frankie’s, you looked up to the slightly taller man. A relaxed smile on his face. With your free hand you reach up and rest it on Frankie’s warm cheek. Feeling him nuzzle into your hand, you smiled at the action.

“Thank you,” You spoke just loud enough for the man in front of you to hear, and by the flash of a confusion, you could tell he didn’t know why you were thanking him. Chuckling slightly you continued, “For saving me. It was dangerous, you could have died in there. You shouldn’t have done that, but you did.”

“I’ve lost friends and that feeling almost killed me. Mijo, if you died, it would have killed me. I made a promise to you that I was marrying by any means necessary, and I plan on keeping that promise.” Hearing Frankie talk, you could practically feel how much this man loves you, and that feeling was enough to make you tear up slightly. Without allowing the man to wipe away your tears, you pulled his face towards yours and planted your lips on his. Frankie’s kisses always had this magical ability to not only wake the butterflies in your stomach but they also make the world around the two of you melt away into oblivion till it was only the two of you.

“Transformer!” Chuckling into the kiss, you pulled away and planted one kiss on his lips before turning around to look at Benny. The nickname he had chosen for you happened as a joke a couple of weeks after you had told the boys you were trans, at first Will had playfully smacked the back of Benny’s head. It wasn’t supposed to stick, but it did, and you had come to love hearing Benny calling you it.

“Benny! I told you I was stronger than I look.” You pretended to flex your still healing arm, which made Benny laugh slightly. Putting your arm down, you stretched carefully, taking a deep breath in. Relaxing, a quizzical look found its ways to your features for only a moment. Taking a second deep breath, you figured out what you were smelling, a cookout. Look over your shoulder to Frankie, you gestured to the fenced off backyard.

“You better stop Will before he burns the burgers, and make sure two slices of cheese get put on my burger. Last time he said he did and it clearly only had one slice.” Your tone was light hearted and laced with a jokingly teasing tone. Watching as Frankie nodded and walked past you, he placed a hand on your back and pulled you in for one more kiss. Pulling away from the kiss, lips hovering over yours, Frankie spoke in a hushed tone.

“I love you hermoso.” You smiled and pressed your lips to his, before pulling away once more.

“I love you too Frankie.” Your voice was slightly louder than Frankie’s. Pulling away completely, you couldn’t help but to tap Frankie’s ass, before motioning to the backyard once more. 

“Get going, I’ll be back there in a second.” Pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, Frankie headed towards the gate. Turning your attention to the other two you smiled, before clearing your throat.

“Come on boys, let’s go make sure those two don’t start arguing over who gets to grill.” You couldn’t help but let an airy laugh out, before they headed for the same gate. 

Watching the men disappear into the backyard, you looked up to the sky once more. There were clouds, but not so many where they blocked the sun, except for every so often. Smiling, you dropped your gaze to the backyard fence at the sound of a loud voice.

“You coming Marito?” You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. You were surprised that it was Benny yelling out to you using the nickname that Frankie had come up with. Nodding to yourself you started towards the same gate that the others disappeared behind. “Yeah I’m coming, I was just enjoying the clouds!” As you finished your sentence, you stood at the gate. Pushing open the gate, you saw all of the boys, and Will’s wife and kid. Standing there for a moment, you took in everyone who had come here just to see you. You knew marrying Frankie made you a member of the family, and it was now that you knew exactly what that meant. Smiling, you thought to yourself, ‘It’s nice to finally be home.’

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Thanks to the lovely @tsunami-of-tears for the dividers I found and ended up using. I ended using two different dividers instead of one. They were both really nice how could I only use one?

[schocoa]

SO - tryin to take part in Huevember with the modified 10 day one I reblogged (yesterday or the day before? what is time) and so here's Stampy! I just looked at an image of the skin he uses and cuz of the Garden of Love I thought to give him overalls - forgot the gloves I was wanting to add - to give gardener vibe.

Keep reading for rambling not related to the art itself.

I haven't made much fanart for like, any Minecraft Youtuber I watched growing up or any I like really and I like minecraft granted 1 of 'em I put on my lil list is more of variety than Minecraft but yeah Also doing environmental pieces based on Minecraft biomes.

my list:

Stampy

Nether

Technoblade

Crimson Forest

Ranboo

Ocean

DanTDM

Lush Cave

Philza

Plains

I never made anything for Stampy (a crime tbh), made a clay replica of Dan's skin (around the time he just got dark blue hair cuz I remember repainting the hair cuz of it) and idk if a clay dab police badge counts, also 1 drawing but that was cuz of a shitty fanfic I made that had a lot of Minecraft youtubers and ngl most of em I didn't know, just saw them appearing in other fics lmao. Techno I've made several, mainly random doodles in my sketch book, but also the one I started the night I learned of him passing is, to this day, the biggest piece and the longest I've worked on something. Ranboo & Philza I've also doodled, with Ranboo varying a lot.

[lazyveran]

legally obligated to ask (jk im just curious) whether you have particular stories/ideas about how/when katara and azula (and any other ATLA characters) got those scars. especially that sicknasty lightning on azula. love that drawing btw.

YES I DOOO!! these r kind of political marriage au, but most do also apply to my canon ideas as well <3

azula:

the lightning scars was azula's first attempt at bending lightning. this was when she was really Far Too Young to try such a deadly technique, but ozai insisted so she did. she was about 10 - maybe 11 - when she tried. no one expected her to actually be able to do it, despite her prodigy status. unfortunately the ridiculous amount of raw power she managed to produce couldnt exactly be handled by A PRETEEN and it offshooted, ricocheting back up her own arm. she has an exit scar somewhere near her nape (which she hides)! it was almost fatal, but ozai was giddy. im thinking shes probably the youngest person in fn history to master lightning bending (i also have a whole personal hc that lightning bending is regarded as sacred, which is a whole other thing. i digress.)

azula's shoulder scars were from a battle in which the tank she was riding in got it's engine destroyed. the damn thing blew up and threw her and a LOT of shrapnel across the battlefield. it took a huge chunk out of her arm and she had to bend w her legs for like the entire battle as a result

she has a bunch of little uneven scars from bending training or the odd practice weapon grazing her - i think a lot of the time she doesnt wait for wounds to heal properly, so she has a lot of shallow scars on her

in the vein of canon, she probably has scarring on the inside of her mouth/throat after breathing fire without proper practice/understanding of how. i also think she fucked up her arm during the western air temple raid bc, seriously, how the fuck did she stop herself falling at terminal velocity with a HAIR PIN. it mangled her hand, her foot and dislocated her shoulder. idc.

[secret info: i have a Story Idea based on azula gaining a physical disability of some kind. highly confidential tho.]

katara:

three clawed scar on her bicep was a wound she picked up during a particularly deadly encounter with a polar beardog. she basically duelled it one on one during a rough winter. while she won (of course) it left its mark on her. she has the pelt in her hut as a trophy for winning against that monster

the scar on her ribs is from a shiv in ba sing se. im thinking during one of her stays in the lower ring her and sokka got pulled into a whole situation with one of the underworld bosses in the area (ala, a corrupt city guard kind of deal, vulturing on the poorest and refugees and of COURSE the siblings wont stand for that). during an encounter they ambush her and manage to knick her pretty deeply. katara sort of sees this one as a badge of honour since the result of that fight saw her save a whole little community in the lower ring

her days as a fighter give katara a bunch of little knicks and scars on her elbows, knees and hands. i think katara uses mobility quite a bit, and her and sokka's war style seems to be more guerrilla based. as such its very rough n environmental, so shes scratching up her limbs a LOT

she also has a pretty hefty chunk bitten out of her thigh during a surprise orca attack on the waves. it was a protracted battle - because orca are like that - and at one point katara gets bit. links into a wider story about her time fighting the fire nation i think! but it was during a period in which she was sinking deeper into using her bending for fighting during the war rather than as a natural extension of herself. to katara, the orca attack was the ocean/spirits' warning to keep the spiritual side of her bending alive, instead of just its utility and violence!

kataras sustained other wounds/scars but her healing usually gets rid of them after a couple sessions. the scars she does keep have a certain meaning to them; like a lesson or reminder to her