#not settled 100 percent on the name yet

[oneangrykneegremlin]

I know it ain’t Halloween yet but I’m already indulging in freaky AU stuff. Basically the bug equivalent of werewolves. I don’t really have a proper plot thought out yet but I just needed an excuse to make them nasty bug thangs :)

I need to tweak their designs still, ESPECIALLY Hollow (they’re gonna get a little stretched out)

[churipu]

96 + 98 , gojo satoru

featuring. gojo satoru x reader

warnings. cursing, school! au, uses of the word 'pretty' to describe the readers' appearance // 2.9k words

note. i absolutely love the academic rivals to lovers trope, so here's a try on this trope. and i'm so glad requests are coming in :') i'll be getting to them after this one shot <;33

synopsis. gojo and you have never gotten along, maybe it's the fact he's the epitome of perfection. he has a pretty face and a pretty brain, who wouldn't like that? so you made it your job to try and beat him at that brain game of his, which never ends well. until you find yourself 2 points higher than him, with his help. oh, boy.

gojo satoru was everywhere. and by everywhere — i mean everywhere.

it was no longer surprising that everyone in school knows him, whether by his name or personally knowing him. it's a surprise if someone doesn't know him, really.

he has a pretty face, and a pretty brain. who wouldn't like that? he's got girls and guys fawning and bowing down to him like their life depended on it, but really, is that all to him? a pretty face and brain?

unfortunately, not.

just to top it off, like a cherry on top. his friendly and light demeanor has earned a lot of respect from people all around, even ones who were outside of school — and that shit, pisses you off. he's the epitome of perfection that it pisses you off, how does one look like they have no flaws?

you used to think that you were it. people call you smart and how they envy your intelligence. but ever since gojo satoru beats you at the one thing you solely thing you excel in (you think): your brain. you had a personal feud with him; which you were currently losing in, by the way.

pretty was never an adjective that sits well with you. you never thought you were a pretty person. back during middle school, you tried hard, constantly trying to make yourself pretty for the sake of others to like you. but at the end of the day, it's you sitting down in front of the mirror doubting yourself whether this was really you or a person you made for other people to look at.

so you settled down for the one thing you were good at: studying.

"fuck you, gojo." you muttered out, clutching your test paper with a big fat and raging red '92' on it along with a 'nice job!' under it, and the fact that it has a smiley face beside it gave you the ick. you just wanted to pour gasoline on it and set the paper on fire.

"just because i beat you in a calculus test? c'mon y/n, instead of that — why don't we just study together?" he swayed, holding out his paper that had a big '100' on it.

ever since you made it your job to try beating him with your grades, you've never find the pleasure in studying anymore. it felt like a chore, it felt like a chore to beat gojo satoru; and when it doesn't happen, you just kind of drown in failure.

and it fucking sucks.

constantly forcing yourself to study just for the sake of beating him even by a point or two, it didn't feel nice. but the thought of him winning yet again made you a little scared.

a 92 for a calculus test would be a dream come true to other people. it would be yours too if gojo satoru hadn't appear in your life, but reality check, he's here and he's just so good at it that it angers you.

people often called you "ungrateful" or a "try hard", honestly, at this point — you can't really help but to think the same. anyone would want to get a 90 in a calculus test, or any other test. but to you, it felt like defeat.

you won't be satisfied until you beat him.

beat gojo satoru.

"study togeth— are you fucking serious?" you spat out at him angrily, crossing your arms.

gojo leans on the stair railing and hums softly, "yes. one hundred percent serious, wanna do it?" he shot you the sweetest smile.

a smile that would send any other person to the moon and back, but the sight honestly just pisses you off. the anger you felt from him beating you in the most recent calculus test was already too much to bear, and like adding salt to the wound, he hits you with a "why don't we just study together?"

"go to hell." you muttered, walking away.

"hey!" the male calls out to you, as much as you didn't want to stop — you did, glancing back at him, brows furrowed, "we have a statistics test next week, maybe it's your time to shine."

his voice was teasing, and he said that with a big toothy grin. god, you just wanted to run over there and bash his face in, plastering a scowl on your face, you shoved out your tongue and walked away. gojo laughs loudly as you walked away.

the dreaded statistics test came, and for some reason — you were more nervous than usual. maybe it was the fact gojo was taunting you about it the other day? or was it the fact he was sitting right next to you, occasionally stealing glances at you with those striking deep-set blue eyes of his.

you'd be lying if you said the male wasn't attractive. but even the thought of yourself thinking about such makes you angry. honestly, everything about him makes you angry.

you look to the side and the male was leaning his head down, his cheek on his left arm as he scribbled on his answer sheet. noticing your gaze on him, he gives you a big smile, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes deepening.

upon that, your face contorted into one of disgust and your eyes averted back towards your answer sheet, which somehow looks...empty. it wasn't that you didn't know the answers to it, there was doubt in you, would you be able to finally beat him? what if you lost again?

but as time was ticking, you pushed those thoughts away and wrote down your answers. confidently. as your teacher commanded for everyone to collect their answer sheets, it was no surprise that the male sitting beside you was the first one to stand. trotting over to the teacher's table and collecting his work, he strides back towards his seat, shooting you a (mocking) wink.

a few minutes later, you stood up to collect your own answer sheet. students often wanted time to go in a rush during average lessons, but tests? they hoped time had slow down even just by a few seconds. it was dreadful, groans and aggravated sighs were heaved out as the bell rang, signifying the end of the test.

"so, how did you do?" gojo questions, standing undoubtedly close to you. too close to your liking, but you brushed that part off.

"why does it matter to you?" you uttered back, annoyed.

"woah, shit. somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," you sighed out exasperatedly, standing up to make your way to the school's cafeteria. one of the most atrocious place you could ever walk into — if you hadn't woke up half an hour later this morning, maybe you wouldn't on your way there right now.

but it is what it is.

"why're you following me?"

gojo groans out, "dream on. i'm going to the cafeteria to eat and hang out with my friends, not to follow you," he mumbles out, his hands shoved deep inside his pocket, "why're you always so angry with me? who hurt you?"

"you."

gojo was silent, he looks at you with a surprised look, "wait, really? remind me of what i did again because i don't have any records of picking fights with you...?" confusion.

you casted a disdainful look towards the male, prompting to stay silent to his nonchalant question-answer. gojo didn't pry on, the confusion still written all over his face, but he walked by your side slowly, matching your steps.

"i'm sure you're gonna beat me in statistics." he suddenly prompted, grinning brightly, "i didn't have time to study."

you groan out in annoyance, typical template of words people use when they know damn well they're going to ace the test. his words were answered with complete silence from you as you slipped inside the cafeteria, walking towards a section to buy yourself a meal.

and gojo, like he said — didn't follow you and parted ways right after you both enter the rowdy place.

"so, what's your score?" gojo whistles, leaning back on his chair as he holds onto a paper, looking at it intently.

you clutched onto the statistics test you did last week, blinking hesitantly, "ninety-eight." your reply was short, but at least it answered him.

a few seconds passed by and doubt started surging in you, maybe he had landed yet another perfect mark? maybe he's one point higher? maybe he's thinking of words to make fun of you with. so many thoughts at this point that you felt your head hurt.

"congratulations."

"yeah, yeah i— congratulations?" you turn towards the male, who was holding out his paper with the number '96' on it.

it took you a few seconds to digest the whole scenario. you actually beating him by two points? it might not seem a lot to other people, but to you? two points felt like you'd just won a competition first place with a gold medal.

the corner of your lips twitched upwards, "i did it."

gojo shrugs his shoulders sheepishly, he didn't seem too affected by your score, "guess you did. congrats."

the whole thing felt a little too good to be true, you tried doing anything to wake up from this dream. pinching yourself, smacking yourself, but nothing happened — this is real life.

and you finally beat gojo satoru in a brain game.

"oh my god, okay — i am freaking out a bit." you tell him, a small smile plastered on your face. in that moment, you wanted to just scream, shout, and let all your euphoria out.

"hold your horses, we still have economics next week." he chuckles, shaking his head.

but you were too ecstatic to hinder his words, standing up, you ran out of the class with sporadic steps. you jumped down a few steps of stairs and approached a vending machine giddily, inserting a bill and pressing on a big can of pop.

opening it with a slight 'pop!' you chugged down on the contents happily, walking all around the school property with a big smile that brought people into a state of wonder. asking themselves to why you could be this happy.

finding yourself on the rooftop, you inhaled sharply. letting the summer breeze caress your face lightly, you sat down around the corner of the staircase, scrolling through your phone happily. even to commemorate the day — you'd mark it in your phone's calendar, naming the day "the day i finally beat gojo satoru's brain power!"

hugging the device, elated. you look up towards the blue sky, was this it? was everything you sacrificed just for today? could you finally study without the burden of beating him in the future?

you hear the door to the rooftop open with a loud slam, flinching a bit. startled at how loud it was, and to your dismay, it was the deep, agonizing laugh of gojo satoru that made you freeze on your spot.

"y/n got higher in statistics? woah." you recognized that voice as geto suguru, one of gojo's closest friend besides shoko ieiri, "what did you do?"

at the mention of your name and last week's statistic test, your ears perked up a bit. gojo's deep chuckles resounds and he cleared his throat, "i could've beat them if i wanted to."

you bit the inner of your cheek silently, "could've? why didn't you?"

"i felt bad for them."

that was it. those three words were all it took to dissipate the ecstasy you felt for a short while. turns out it was all a fluke? you blinked in confusion, does that mean you beating him was all a planned thing he made?

"what do y'mean feel bad?"

"i don't know suguru, they look like they're trying so hard," gojo mumbles out lightly. even if there were no signs of mockery in his voice, still, you felt as if this was an unfair win for you (not that there was a win-lose from the beginning, you just made it up along the way).

the disappointment seeped in, and you felt a sense of languor washing over you. he was just letting you win, standing up slowly, you brushed your outfit — making your presence known to the two friends.

"you're a fucking prick, you know that?"

gojo looks back at you, his eyes widening the slightest bit, obviously not expecting you to be here, "how long have you been listening to us?" he asks you softly, exhaling slowly as if he had been holding a deep breath.

"it doesn't matter how long i've been listening to you, fuck you."

gojo's face fell as you began leaving the rooftop, he contemplated on chasing after you, but stopped himself from doing so. assuming you wouldn't be in the right mind to be talking to him right now.

or ever.

which was proven by the constant game of cat-and-mouse, he and you were doing.

"y/n, can we talk—" you brushed past him like he didn't matter, and gojo swore he felt his heart break a little when you walk by him, not even sparing a glance. but he didn't chase after you.

for the next couple of weeks, the male has been nothing but desperate. trying to reach out to you both online and offline, but much to his dismay, none of them had the feedback he needed to hear. and it fucking broke him.

"y/n, can we please talk about this?" he asks you as you took a seat on your assigned seat like the usual, but you didn't give him the attention, "please don't ignore me, talk to me."

he sounded so desperate. at this point, it was like the male was at school for you and you only. he just needed to talk to you about everything, get things straight, and live life like the usual. fighting about grades, teasing you about it, even if you return it with simple insults or the language of sarcasm.

he just needed that y/n back.

as you stood up, this time gojo chases after you, grabbing your wrist as you slipped away from the door, "talk to me, please," he mutters out lowly, his grasp so gentle.

you furrowed your brows and pulled your wrist away before turning away, walking further from where he stood.

"why won't you talk to me?" he asks you out, his voice echoing throughout the hallway of the third floor, "why won't you let me explain what i really meant by what i said that day? why won't you give me a chance to talk about it? why won't you talk to me?"

it irked you. he succeeded in stopping your walk, making you glance back at him in annoyance, "i didn't mean it in a way i didn't trust that you could beat me in the test," he said, standing in the same spot, the creases in between his brows deepening and a big frown latched on his lips.

"i see you everyday, ruining yourself to try and beat me. i can't fucking stand it y/n— you're killing yourself slowly. and i don't like that," he tells you, "i didn't even know why this was a competition in the first place, you're a smart person, why do you have to validate that by trying to beat my grades?"

you clenched your fists in annoyance. annoyed that he was somehow right on point. yet again, he was right.

gojo looks at you, waiting for an answer. his eyes profusely blinking as if he was holding back tears, which wasn't the point. you spared him an odd look, trying to walk away yet again. but the male was ready to hold you in your place, gripping your arm.

"why are you doing this to yourself?" he asks you.

"doing what?" you finally answered him.

"this. everything."

i look him dead in the eyes, "because i fucking hate the fact that you're beating me in the only one thing i'm good at. i don't fucking know gojo, the fact that i'm actually not that good at the one thing i assumed i'm good at is pissing me off — you're pissing me off!"

"y/n, what the fuck are you talking about?"

you pulled your arm away, "look at you. you're attractive and you're smart — i don't think i'm attractive, so i just try to be smart, but i'm apparently not doing a fucking good job at it too."

gojo heaves out a sigh, "so you think i'm attractive and smart?"

you look at him in disbelief, "how is that important right now?"

"it is important. the person i like thinks i'm attractive and smart," he tells you.

"okay, so what if i find you attractive and smart— did you just say you like me, gojo? what the fuck?" you asked him, very surprised and he sent you a charming smile.

"how is that important right now?" he questions back, grabbing your hand, giving it a light squeeze, "what matters is that you're not going to ignore me again, because frankly speaking, i fucking hate it when you're ignoring the fuck out of me y/n. i don't care if you insult or talk shit about me, just don't ignore me."

i look at him, mouth slightly agape, "can we talk about the 'the person i like' part, please?" you posed a question, still in disbelief.

"no. that's not important."

"yes it is important, gojo."

"so when it comes to my feelings to you, it's suddenly important? can we talk about your feelings to me after then?" you shook your head and walked away after that sole question, "that's a bit unfair don't you think? and why the hell are you walking away? come back!"

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[mariacallous]

Within days of Hamas’s massacre last month that left 1,400 people dead in Israel, a gas station near the southern city of Be’er Sheva was packed with Israeli soldiers. Convoys of beaten-up military jeeps were zigzagging in and out of the pump terminals, and the roadside cafe had stopped taking civilian orders, trying to reserve all available stock for troops preparing for the first ground invasion of the Gaza Strip in just under a decade. In the parking lot, Israelis manned a makeshift booth offering falafel to passing soldiers, playing patriotic songs. The gas station workers, meanwhile, leaned on stock pallets in a shaded corner—four Bedouins speaking to each other in broken Hebrew with thick Arab accents, staring out into a nation not quite their own on the brink of war. They must have been terrified of outing themselves as Arabs.

By the end of the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, there were roughly 156,000 Palestinians who found themselves within what became the official borders of the state of Israel. Almost overnight, they had morphed into citizens of Israel. As of 2020, they number almost 2 million (including East Jerusalem Palestinians who hold permanent resident status), comprising about 20 percent of Israel’s population. They had evaded exile, but their initial relations to the state were marred by resentment and confusion: Many had relatives settled in tent cities in neighboring Arab countries, and large swaths of their former agricultural lands had been expropriated. Almost two decades would pass until these Arab towns in Israel would be released from military rule.

Arab citizens began from a point of severe disadvantage. Much of the Palestinian population lived in farming communities with lower levels of literacy. On top of this, there were deep feelings of resentment associated with the establishment of Israel and the new necessity of navigating it in what then was the enemy tongue.

More than half a century later, these Arabs are intimately embedded in the fabric of Israeli life. All signs indicate that, over time, socioeconomic gaps have narrowed. Scarcely a single sector can function without Arab labor. Schooling and the domestic life of Arab Israelis are still largely conducted in Arabic, and members of this population tend to gain fluency in Hebrew only upon entering higher education. In academia, most material is taught in Hebrew, and then, in most professions, Arab Israelis invariably sit alongside Israeli Jews on a daily basis.

A degree of accommodation and understanding has formed, and as far as many Israelis are concerned, this is the gold standard of coexistence. Arabs, however, continue to face discrimination and hardship—along with their own internal divisions.

What am I? Too Israeli for the Palestinians and too Palestinian for the Israelis. Our identity is no identity, and we are born into confusion,” said Huda, an office worker who lives in the northern town of Kafr Yasif (she did not want her last name used because she is scared of reprisal).

Huda is a Christian Arab. Christians make up 1.9 percent of the Israeli population, while Muslims comprise 18 percent, and Druze, 1.6 percent.

This confused identity becomes more acute during times of war. “Unlike Israeli Jews, I hear the screams of Palestinians in my mother tongue and I understand them,” she said. “And yet, here, understanding them amounts to sympathizing with them.” (Interviews with Arab Israelis for this piece were conducted in Arabic and Hebrew, depending on the subject’s personal preference.)

Since the outbreak of the war, at least 110 Arab Israelis have been arrested for speech-related offenses, according to Adalah, the legal center for Arab minority rights in Israel. Separately, the group said 100 complaints have been filed against Arab Israeli students, 74 have been summoned for disciplinary hearings, and three students have been expelled.

Abed Samara, head of the Hasharon Hospital cardiac ICU in central Israel, was suspended from work for a Facebook post published roughly two years ago featuring a green flag with religious writing in Arabic and a dove symbolizing peace, along with a short text in Arabic that included the word “martyr.” The color green is traditionally associated with Islam. Samara said the flag was mistaken for the Hamas flag and the post was deeply misconstrued. “No one even bothered to consult me about any of this,” he said in an interview given to Hebrew-language media.

Dalal Abu Amneh, a popular singer and neuroscientist, was arrested and held in solitary confinement for two nights for posting a Palestinian flag with the caption, “There is no victor except for that of God.” These are just two examples of Arab Israelis who have had their reputations ruined after the events of early October—despite the fact that a recent poll showed at least 80 percent of Israel’s Arab population to be categorically against the massacre.

Fighting between Israelis and Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza does not usually trigger violence between Arabs and Jews in Israel. But it did the last time Israel and Hamas fought a war in May 2021. Among the attacks on Jewish Israelis, synagogues were torched and hundreds of homes were looted—many of them in and around mixed Arab-Jewish cities.

The incident shook Israel enough that its military a few months later staged an exercise simulating scenarios of “domestic unrest” for the first time since the Second Intifada. On Oct. 4, just three days before the massacre, an Israeli headline featured talks among police officials to loosen open-fire protocols. As of Oct. 26, that motion has been set forth for voting in the Knesset and comes as Israel is especially attuned to signs of sympathy for Hamas among Arab Israeli citizens.

“I woke up that Saturday, saw footage of the massacres, and my first thought was: We’re done for,” said Hamada Mahamid, a 30-year-old Hebrew teacher from the Arab Israeli city of Umm al-Fahm, the third-largest Arab Israeli city and part of a cluster of exclusively Muslim towns and cities bordering the Green Line. “It was clear to all of us that this is no joke: People are holed up in their homes, my friends have stopped going to work, and we are even reluctant to chat over the phone,” he said.

Similar sentiments were expressed by Arab Israeli politicians, who currently number 10 of 120 members of the Knesset. Even those who have generally assumed staunch positions against Israeli military operations in Palestinian territories, such as Ahmad Tibi, have urged their populations to keep a level head and avoid any actions that may risk their standing in Israel.

Hosni Sadeq, a restaurant owner from the Arab Israeli city of Tira, said he feels betrayed. Even during the quietest periods, a stabbing attempt on the other side of the country would leave his restaurant empty on the busiest day of the week—which tends to be Saturday, when Jews stream into the local marketplace for shopping and authentic Arab food. “Not only do I have to speak their language and never with a single mistake, but I have to forget my origins and never speak a word about their enemies,” he said.

For Huda, war exposes the wedge between the two peoples living on a single slice of land, which each side claims as its own. “We are not actually friends,” she said. “We exchange laughs at work, but when war breaks out, each rushes back into his own camp.”

Crime rates in Arab Israeli towns have skyrocketed in recent years. The Israeli police blame a lack of cooperation from Arab citizens for the inability to reverse the trend, but Arabs often cite a lack of initiative on the part of the authorities. “Just like in America, but a little different,” Mahamid said. “Here, no one cares when Arabs kill Arabs—if anything, it serves the state well.” Israeli politicians often refer to the danger of Arab violence seeping into Jewish communities— which Tibi called “condescending,” as it paints the Arab community as the “backyard” of Israel, where “anything can happen.”

Indeed, several months ago, Israeli Police Commissioner Kobi Shabtai was heard on a leaked voice recording shrugging off the endemic violence, in a conversation with right-wing extremist Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel’s national security minister. “There is nothing that can be done,” Shabtai said, according to reports. “They kill each other. That is their nature. That is the mentality of the Arabs.”

Now, as the Knesset is being called to vote on loosening open-fire protocols, calls among Israeli Jews to establish armed community-watch squadrons, and Arab officers in the police force languishing at just above 5 percent, Arabs are convinced that the police will never truly be on their side. Many have begun rethinking plans for the future.

Mahamid, who plans to marry in a couple of months, is for the first time looking into immigration options.

“The last decade of quiet is dead and gone—everyone knows it, even though some deny it,” Mahamid told me, echoing the words of Israeli National Security Advisor Tzachi Hanegbi, who, referring to Hamas in a recent address, said that “all of the terms of the past are gone and have dissipated.” Hanegbi’s words apply as much to homeland security as to the Israeli social fabric, which many Arab Israelis believe has been irreparably damaged.

“I condemn the massacre. I retched at the sight of what Hamas did. And I condemn the ceaseless bombing of innocent Gazans. If the Israelis didn’t know in advance about the massacre, how would the 2 million Gazans have known?” Mahamid said. “But when this is all said and done, we are going to be left alone with them here on the interior.”

Survivors of the massacre tend to note two things in recalling the horrors of that fateful Saturday: the sound of gunfire and the sound of Arabic. Almost every reference to that day includes a reference to the Arabic language, which as of 2018 was downgraded from an “official language” of Israel to one of “special status.” This shift came in the nation-state law, a controversial measure from the political right that sought to reaffirm Israel’s role as the “national homeland of the Jewish people” and left Arabs wondering what exactly they have been working toward over the last several decades.

“Canada is looking good at the moment,” Mahamid told me. “I can’t speak a lick of English, but I’d now prefer to babble than take my chances in Arabic on the Israeli street.”

[the-hexfiles]

Grace (Crosshair x Fem!OC)

Chapter Three: Slice of Life

Rating: Explicit!

Content: Fluff and smut! First-Person Narrative, with rarely-named OC (can be read as x reader if so desired) Post-empire Crosshair. More CatDad!Crosshair/Domestic!Crosshair. Exactly what the title is, a little slice of life.

Wordcount: ~3k

A/N: I barely proofread this smut so if you see errors, dm me. No Beta reader this chapter sooooooooooooo....

If you skipped Ch2 because you wanted to avoid the TW or you just hated it? (idk) Crosshair and Cerri adopted a tooka together. The tooka's name is Kit but Crosshair refers to her as their 'baby' around his brothers, this fic picks up directly from there.

Soundtrack: Strawberry Blonde - chloe moriondo

Previously...

Chapter One: Dive Bar...

“There’s a baby?” Hunter asked nervously.

“No–” I tried to cut in, but everyone started talking over each other:

“Keep your ears to yourself,” Crosshair hissed at his brother.

“There’s gonna be a baby?!” Omega jumped up and down excitedly, patting my stomach. Crosshair started to sweat a little, a flush coming to his cheeks.

“No, kid–” Crosshair started to speak but was interrupted by Wrecker bolting out of his seat to wrap his arms around me and lift me up by my waist, laughing: “Oh yeah! I’m gonna be the favorite uncle!”

“Wrecker!” Hunter and Echo both shouted, bolting up out of their chairs at the dining table. “Don’t lift her by the waist!” Echo added on.

“I’m not–” Before I could finish, a pillow came flying by my head, hitting Wrecker in the face. I looked to the couch and Crosshair had another pillow in his other hand, at the ready. “Put the girlfriend and tooka down. Now,” he growled.

“I had the assumption that Kit was the ‘baby’–” Tech shifted his goggles, but didn’t look up from his data pad.

“Kit is the baby! There’s no human baby!” I laughed. Omega’s giddiness turned to a playful pout. Wrecker put me down, looking slightly disappointed.

“Not yet anyway. No form of birth control is 100 percent and given how frequently I assume–” Tech stopped speaking to dodge the pillow Crosshair threw at him. After Crosshair and Hunter exchanged a few quips about “little Crosshairs,” everyone sat down around the caf table. Echo was leaving the next day, so most of us tried to enjoy each other's company before he left; talking and playing card games until Omega fell asleep in my lap, cuddling Kit. Crosshair sat on the floor between my feet silently while his brothers and I chatted.

I said goodnight to Hunter and the others, while Crosshair tucked Kit into her little bed. After they left, I laid out across the loveseat, and Crosshair came back out and laid down on top of me. I rubbed his back in silence, occasionally kissing his temple or forehead, depending on how his head was resting on my chest. He fell asleep after a few minutes, and I carefully reached behind my head for my book. He mumbled something, then twitched slightly. I held my book with one hand and rubbed his back with the other and he settled back into a deep sleep.

A few hours later, Kit cried from the bedroom and he startled awake, looking around for a moment. “It’s alright, I’ll get her,” I said, still rubbing his back and finishing my page. He crawled off of me and sat on the edge of the couch. I reached for him and he took my hand and kissed the palm before he stood up, leading me into the bedroom. I walked over to his side of the bed but he slipped in front of me and gently bumped me onto the bed with his hips, picking up Kit himself. He gave her a gentle kiss on her head, then spoke: “I know, she’s so slow.” I kicked out my legs to tap his shin but he dodged my playful attack. I stripped and crawled under the covers, as he took Kit into the kitchen to prepare a bottle for her.

I watched them from the bed, their silhouettes dimly lit from the little kitchen light: He was holding the little wriggling, whining form against his chest, working with the other hand to prep the formula and waiting for it to heat up. As he waited, he gave her a little kiss to the top of her head, making her cry louder from the contact. “Working on it, ad'ika,” he said. He leaned against the counter as he fed her, watching her lovingly. When she finished, he cleaned her up and brought her back into the room, tucking her back into her bed. He stripped off his clothes, picked up my clothes off the floor and dropped them in the hamper. When he started to curl back up into bed, he saw me smiling at him. “What?” He asked, adjusting his pillows. I shook my head and reached out to him. He raised an eyebrow at me, then laid down on his back next to me, pulling me into his side.

We laid in silence for a while. I looked up at him, and saw he was still awake. I tapped on his chest to get his attention: “Do you want kids?” I asked, looking up at him.

He let out a curt huff and turned his face away from me to look up at the ceiling.

I laughed lightly, “Yeah, that’s the response I expected.” I looked back at my hand, still tracing little mindless patterns on his skin.

He laid there looking up at the ceiling, rubbing my side. After a few minutes he rolled over and tangled his legs with mine, holding me close with both arms. “Ask me again once I’ve adjusted to the fact that I'm alive.” He leaned back slightly to look at me, “Do you want kids?”

“Not sure,” I said as I laid my hand flat against his chest to feel the hard thump of his heartbeat.

“Yes you are,” he said, kissing my forehead then resting his chin on top of my head. “You’re not your mother, Cerri. You’ll be fine.”

“You make an adorable father,” I looked up at him smiling.

“The one time I held a human baby I made him cry.”

“You woke him up and scared him.” I said, laughing at the memory: Crosshair walking out of the nursery holding my friend’s crying baby with a deep frown. He refused to touch the baby the rest of the night.

“He’s a little older now, I’m sure you two will get along fine. And your own baby won’t be afraid of you, so don’t use Solan as a reference.”

I laid my arm across his waist and buried my face into his chest, feeling him breathe. He started to rub my back again but after a few minutes, his breathing deepened and slowed; his arms holding me close to his chest.

I woke up again a few hours later. I kissed him twice but he was sound asleep, so I eased out of bed and took Kit with me. After feeding her, I got dressed, tucking her between my breasts in the layers of my kimono-style shirt. I made breakfast, leaving some aside for Crosshair when he woke up, then busied myself around the house. It was the afternoon when he shuffled out of the bedroom half asleep. He came up behind me while I was curled up on the couch on my datapad. He leaned over the back of the loveseat and kissed me deeply, sneaking a hand into my shirt. I laughed against his lips when I heard Kit cry, her nap disturbed by a prying hand. When he pulled away, I called him a thief as he cuddled Kit close to his bare chest and walked into the kitchen.

We spent a few hours together: went for a swim, and picked up a few things at the market. When we got back home, Crosshair settled into the loveseat while I put things away. I set aside some of his work clothes I’d washed that morning, and took care of Kit. When I walked over to him, he was laying down with his eyes closed. I leaned down to steal a light kiss as I walked by, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me to lay down on top of him. Since his first night with me, naps on the loveseat before work became a little ritual: His long legs draped over the arm of the loveseat while I laid on top of him. It was the only rest either of us got that was usually free of nightmares.

I stayed up reading while I waited for him to get off work. He commed when he left, so I walked outside and waited for him to walk up the path to my house. When he got there he pulled me into a hug and gave me a kiss on the top of my head before we walked inside together. After taking off his boots, he immediately walked to where I had Kit snuggled in her blanket on the loveseat and held her close. He gave me a quick summary of his shift before I could ask how his night was.

After feeding Kit, he brought her into the bedroom and tucked her into her little bed before walking back out and laying across the loveseat. I crawled into his lap, straddling him and tucking my face into the curve of his neck. My hands made their way under his shirt, running my nails gently over his skin. He chuckled softly and pulled my hair away from my neck, kissing it gently.

“You sure?” he whispered, kissing my hairline. “Last few days have been rough.”

I nodded, “It’s been a while, I don’t want you feeling…”  I rolled my hips against him again, a hardness growing in his pants beneath me, “Neglected.”

“If I needed it, I could have gotten myself off,” He gently pulled my head away so he could look at me, “You’re not responsible for my pleasure, certainly not at the expense of your comfort.”

I sat up fully, still straddling his hips, “I want this.”

He tilted his head a little and gave me a skeptical look. I sighed and rolled my eyes, “How many days since the first time we were intimate?”

“Little over 300 rotations,” he said as he rested both his hands on my thighs.

“And I’ve always been honest with you about when I do and don’t want something.” I kissed his nose. “And right now,” I kissed his chin. “I want you,” I whispered against his lips before kissing them.

“As my princess desires then,” he said, smirking and started to sit up. I slipped from his grasp and ran towards the bedroom giggling but he caught up to me in a few long strides and grabbed my wrist. He pulled me into him and walked me backwards towards the wall between the bedroom and refresher door. When my back hit the wall, his lips met mine. He lifted me up by my ass to bring my face level to his, my legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers digging into my thighs, tongues in each other's mouths. He pulled away long enough to dip down to my collar bone and kiss up my neck behind my ear. He pressed into my core, giving a teasing amount of pressure. I tilted my head back in a low moan, and I felt him smirk into my skin. He carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed.

We both completely stripped, clothes scattered on the floor around the bed. I stretched out across the bed once naked, and caught Crosshair staring down at me with a small smile. I sat up and grabbed his wrist to pull him on top of me. He settled between my legs, and went back to kissing my neck, leaning on his left elbow and letting his right hand slide painfully slowly, down to my hips. He teased my inner thighs, hip bones, everywhere but exactly where I wanted him as we made out. A few times he briefly ghosted over my folds, but continued teasing around them. I could feel myself starting to drip on the bed and got impatient. I pushed him off of me and onto his back, pinning his arms on either side of his head. I directed him to rest his head on his hands and he skeptically went along with my orders. It was my turn to tease. I gently ran my nails across his skin as I slowly kissed down his body, letting my wet folds graze across his length on occasion making him inhale sharply. I teased his nipples before making my way down his abs, kissing all the way down, leaving goosebumps all along his skin where my lips and fingers met his skin. I rested his thighs on my shoulders as I kissed everywhere but his cock. Licking up his thighs to his hip bones, kissing all around the base, taking his balls in his mouth, everything but what I knew he wanted. He could have moved his hands out from behind his head, pulled my hair, shoved my face to his cock, but didn’t. Just laid there moaning, shifting his hips whenever I tickled him slightly, breathing hard, eyes closed, with a deep flush across his face. I kissed back up his body, giving every scar a gentle kiss on my way up. I made my way back up to his neck, my pussy just an inch away from his throbbing length. I decided I’d teased him enough and finally relented, sliding my wet folds along his cock. He gasped followed by an absolutely sinful groan, grabbing my hips desperately. After teasing my clit a few times with the head of his cock, I finally slid him fully inside me. I wasted no time, his grip pacing how fast and hard he wanted me to come down on him. His muscles tensed beneath me, his panting got heavier, his grip tighter, the longer I rode him. I was absolutely drunk on the look on his face, flushed and blissed out, eyes closed. But then he stopped, shoving me down on his cock, and taking a second to breathe before he opened his eyes and shifted beneath me to reach the drawer of my nightstand. He felt around in my drawer before getting annoyed and sitting up, still keeping me firmly planted on his cock.

“I could help you if you told me what you were looking for,” I laughed when his face contorted into a more annoyed expression.

“If I’m going over, you’re coming with me this time dammit.”

“Did not take you for puns,” I said as I leaned over to look in the drawer. His hand landed on my little vibrator. “How did you know that was in there?” I asked, a little embarrassed.

“I know where all your toys are,” he said with a mischievous smirk and I shoved him back down onto the bed. “Not my fault you have shitty hiding places.”

He clicked the toy on and settled it on my clit. I threw my head back with a gasp, instinctively shifting myself so it pressed exactly where I wanted it. I felt my walls clench around his cock and he moaned. He sat back up, holding me close to him with one arm, and holding my toy against me with the other. Between him being inside me and the vibrations on my clit I didn’t last long, grinding against him as I came, forehead resting against his shoulder. He let out a breathy “fuck,” as he came himself, leaning his head against mine. After a moment of overstimulation, I took the toy from his hand and turned it off, throwing it somewhere on his side of the bed but it bounced off and there was a light thump followed by a quiet and angry meow. I gasped and Crosshair gave a small, breathless laugh. I tried to stifle any further laughter but couldn’t stop myself when Crosshair started laughing more openly himself, throwing himself back onto the bed. I carefully removed him from inside me and leaned over the edge of the bed to check on Kit. He gave my ass a sharp smack and I squealed, throwing him a dirty look from over my shoulder. He climbed on top of me, kissing my shoulder and hairline before moving Kit’s blanket to take a peek at her.

“You hit our daughter with a sex toy and now you’re dripping on my side of the bed,” he said as he slid off of me, standing on the edge of the bed. I started to ask what he was going to do about it before he grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. He picked me up by my waist and carried me into the refresher to get cleaned up. When we were out of the shower, the sun was turning the horizon a light gray. I curled up on my side of the bed and Crosshair shoved himself as close to me as possible, complaining of a “wet spot” on his side of the comforter. I felt around but didn’t feel anything and smiled. He just wanted his post-orgasm cuddles.

I woke up when I almost fell off the bed, Crosshair curled up into my back, arms wrapped around me and one leg draped over my hips. His breathing was soft on the back of my neck. Kit was crying softly from her little bed and I started to try to peel off Crosshair’s limbs so I could get out of bed. “No,” was all he mumbled as he pulled me closer into him.

“She needs to eat,” I whispered, still trying to undo his now death grip on my body.

“I fed her two hours ago, she’s fine.” He kissed the back of my head, “Stop moving.”

“She’s crying–”

“She’s needy.”

“So are you this morning, sir.”

He pinched my waist and I let out a little squeak.  “If I get her, will you shut up and go back to sleep?” he asked.

“Hmm. Maybe?”

He rolled over and picked up Kit from her bed and handed her to me. I cuddled her close to my neck, still laying on my side. Crosshair resumed his position, now cuddling the both of us.

“Are you two happy now?”

Kit was purring, happily making biscuits against his arm. He kissed the back of my head and gave Kit a little scratch under her chin.

“Very happy. Are you happy now?”

He shushed me. It wasn’t long before the three of us fell back to sleep.

************************************************************************

Next...

Taglist: @stunkbiggu

[altairtalisman]

Chiaki's Bio

"I'll curse you if you ever cross me... just joking! ...Or am I?"

More details on Chiaki is under the cut

Name: Chiaki Nakajima

Age: 1059

Height: 160 cm (15 m in true form)

Birthday: 26 Tierna 963 (Da'asja)

Orientation: Cisgender Demisexual Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Species: Fox Spirit (Nine Tails)

Country of Birth: Asanoku

Likes: Autumn, mushrooms, raspberries, ramen

Dislikes: Thunderstorms, tofu, humans (unknown to most)

Hobbies: Playing the bass, origami, ikebana, sunbathing

Personality: Sociable and loves to tease... at least on the surface. In reality, she's quite vengeful and quick to threaten, doesn't trust others easily, and usually prefers to be alone

Style: Casual autumn wear regardless of the season, always wears her bracelet and brooch

Abilities: Has enhanced senses in humanoid form, the ability to conjure weak and small purple flames, shapeshift into her true form as well as the ability to curse others, and somewhat knows how to wield swords

In her true form, she has enhanced senses and speed. In addition, she's able to freely conjure purple flames of greater intensity and retains her ability shapeshift into a humanoid form as well as to curse others, with the power of the curses drastically increasing the more wounded she is

Background: Trapped in the illegal fox trade, Chiaki grew up resentful of those who poached and traded foxes. After escaping the crate she was locked in due to a fire, she kept herself hidden and fed on the leftovers of corpses to conserve energy that would have been spent on hunting

At 69 years old, she encountered an injured Hisui near where she was hiding. Out of fear that the raijū's presence will alert humans to her hiding spot, she reluctantly brought them back to where she was hiding and nursed them back to health. During this period, they interacted with each other, with Chiaki learning about the tengu-raijū conflict and Hisui learning about illegal fox trades

Eventually, the raijū fully recovered which prompted her to chase them out out her hiding spot before seeking out a new one, fearing that humans were starting to grow suspicious to why their medical supplies were dwindling. At 100 years old, an earthquake devastated South Asanoku, with Chiaki surviving and gaining an extra tail in the process

With the extra tail, Chiaki was granted a small amount of powers that a nine tailed fox spirit would possess. This made it slightly easier for her to survive, especially since she had gained new, albeit limited control over fire. She decided to travel to Central Asanoku and initially settled down there, however a volcano eruption that engulfed 90 percent of Central Asanoku in lava when she turned 200 reversed her decision

Solidifying her decision to return to South Asanoku was the residents of the central region discovering her presence around the time of the eruption and immediately sought to kill her for supposedly bringing destruction to them. Chiaki quickly realised that every century, she would have to face a catastrophe if she wanted to gain additional tails. Therefore, she decided to subject the southern region to the disasters as revenge for putting her through the illegal fox trade in the past

At 380 years old, she had encountered Hisui in an abandoned residence, the latter wanting to settle down 'on land' so as to integrate into human society. Confused by the raijū's decision, as well as worried for them, she proposed that they help each other out when their lives are in danger, with Hisui accepting a tad too happily for her liking

After subjecting the south to a tsunami and yet another earthquake, the residents finally realised that the reason to why they were subjected to calamities every century was due to Chiaki's presence. This forced the fox spirit to flee, while Hisui caused a distraction for her to escape. Two years after the earthquake, she was forcefully invited into the residence of a famed swordsmith by said person

Afraid that the swordsmith was about to kill her, she threatened to set his residence ablaze, keenly aware that she would alert the residents her presence in the process. What truly shocked her was that not only did the swordsmith wish to hide her, he wanted her to stay with her. Chiaki didn't believe that he wanted 'companionship' as he so explained, but stayed with him nonetheless. Hisui eventually joined her once the residents stopped looking for them, which the swordsmith welcomed

Under the swordsmith's roof, she learnt that his family had all passed years ago from varying reasons, none of which were due to Chiaki's causing. The fox spirit also learnt that she had a striking resemblance to his late daughter, save for the hair and eye colours. For the first time in centuries, she felt sympathy towards a human and decided to actually stay with him until the end of his life instead of escaping in the middle of the night, even going as far as to accept a bracelet gifted by him

On 26 Tierna 1503, she was sent out by the swordsmith as he wanted to prepare a surprise for her birthday. Amused by the swordsmith for celebrating her birthday seriously even after 38 years, Chiaki decided to humour him by obliging his request and to enter the forest to pick edible mushrooms, something which she knew he liked

What she didn't expect to see when she returned was the swordsmith adorned all across the walls, along with a threatening message written in blood about how the swordsmith deserved death for being a traitor towards Asanoku, which had a human majority, by hiding Chiaki. Realisation then dawned on her that humans would easily turn on a fellow human if they didn't share the same beliefs as the majority, and in a fit of vengeance, she sought out the murderers to exact revenge

With the murderers dead, she decided to eliminate the illegal fox trade by indiscriminately murdering all fox poachers. Hisui tried to persuade her to spare those who had to feed their families, but the latter refused on the account that her kind had to be sacrificed for human survival. A year after successfully murdering 85 percent of the known fox poachers, she decided to turn to mass killing the Southern Asanokians after learning from Hisui that they wanted her head

With two natural disasters threatening to wipe out both Chiaki and the residents, the Southern Asanokians formed an alliance with Western and Central Asanokians to hunt the fox spirit down. While against the mass killing of humans, the raijū sided with the fox spirit and helped in defending themselves. Eventually when Chiaki was 722 years old, most humans gave up hunting Chiaki, and by extension Hisui, though Chiaki's distaste towards humanity refused to budge

On a rainy day five years later, Hayato appeared in the residence that they were living in. The fox spirit, aware that humans respected tengus, was wary towards him, but didn't show it in order to get Hayato to lower his guard. Hisui, on the other hand, was curious that the tengu was alone and that he showed no hostility towards the raijū, to which both species have an unspoken hostility towards each other. With this in mind, the raijū persuaded Chiaki to let the tengu stay with them until the rain let up, the latter reluctantly agreeing

As agreed, Hayato left them once the rain stopped. Hisui then expressed concern for the tengu, explaining that she had heard that North Asanoku, which is where tengus and raijūs were able to co-exist albeit uneasily, were starting to express anti-sentiments towards each other. Amused by the conflict, Chiaki offhandedly commented that both species were acting like the humans that they both saw as lower beings

In 1728, the Tengu-Raijū War broke out and news reached the fox spirit, who asked Hisui if they were planning to participate. The latter said that they were enlisted, but refused to do so and even retaliated by eliminating key figures. Chiaki was surprised to hear that raijūs could be killed, and assumed that they were immortal due to being made of lightning. Throughout the war, they monitored news about it as Hisui feared that the war might spill over to the humans, who would then resume the hunt for Chiaki

Two months after Chiaki's 785th birthday, news that a peace treaty that would end the war was announced but before it could be signed, Hayato was betrayed and shortly left for dead after a misunderstanding from the raijūs. This prompted Hisui, who was secretly in attendance to witness the treaty being signed, to save the tengu and bringing him back to their residence, where this time, the fox spirit was much open in letting him seek refuge out of sympathy of witnessing betrayal from someone of the same species

Eventually, the Tengu-Raijū War ended only for the Asanokian Civil War to surface. This took the fox spirit by surprise as she had wrongly assumed that the residents had backed away from her out of fear, when in actual fact, the human Asanokians were allying themselves so as gather enough numbers to overwhelm the fox spirit, and by extension the raijū given their loyalty towards her. The war allowed Chiaki to indiscriminately kill the humans, though by that point she wasn't entirely sure if she was killing them because of the war itself, or because of her hatred towards humanity. Either way, she didn’t care and took joy in doing so, much to Hisui’s dismay

The civil war also resulted in calls for all non-humans to be eradicated, spurring Hayato to negotiate peace between all sides but failed. In order to protect Hisui, she offered her life in exchange for the non-humans' freedom. The humans agreed to the offer, declaring that the fox spirit would be executed once Asanoku had stabilised and thus bringing the civil war to an end in 1810

Due to the instability the war had caused, mainly due to her destructive actions, she was in jail for decades. She was aware that the humans deliberately kept her in a cage-like cell to remind her that she was supposed to be sold into slavery as planned, fuelling her resentment towards them

The only source of entertainment was Ragnar, who kept trying to interact with her despite the latter not wanting to do so. Nonetheless, she was intrigued by the guitar he kept playing to fill the silence and was mildly disappointed to hear that he had been released, though ultimately relieved that she didn't have to keep on pretending that she didn't understand him

In Dia'ae 1900, her execution date was announced to be on 27 Itis that very same year. Not wanting Hisui to experience what she had gone through centuries ago, she plotted to escape the country and seek asylum somewhere that had no relations with Asanoku at all. On the execution day itself, she was able to successfully escape by murdering her executioners as a distraction and promptly fled to Xhing'Tien, where she spent 63 years planning her escape to Roxanza

She was eventually discovered by the Xhing'Tienese near a cataclysmic landslide, something which didn't often happen. This forced her to flee onto a ship nearby, which brought her to East Wulfenz. Immediately, she sought refuge at the hotel with the intent on murdering anyone who planned to send her back to Asanoku. She was greeted by Hana, who explained that she was fully aware who the fox spirit was. The dullahan then proposed that the hotel would take her in on the condition that she worked for them, and rejecting the proposal would result in the employees doing their best to make Chiaki's likely escape troublesome

With no other options, the fox spirit reluctantly accepted the proposal, aware that the employees were significantly much more capable than humans and there was a very real chance of them overwhelming her. Once the proposal was inked and signed, Chiaki was assigned to the front desk where she's constantly tortured. Or so she claims...

True Form:

[melodythebunny]

Morning meeting - oneshot

"We barely made it out ourselves. Good thing our emergency escape pods were still functioning"

Who's idea was it to have a meeting this early in the morning…becky had no clue. She was tired. And try as she might to listen, she found herself bored. She shuffled nervously in her seat. Sitting beside her dad did only but so much to quell her boredomness.

Becky stared right at kev- Calvin. Not kevin. Kevin was a former crewmate. But sadly he didn't make it very far on the expedition.

Calvin was also a crewmate. Not exactly a new one. He's been on this ship before. Same as Athena the light green crewmate. Becky vaguely remembered them. Afterall she was still a baby when everyone split up for the first time.

The girl must have been staring too long because then Calvin the brown crewmate glared at her.

The blonde scowled clearly, not amused. 

She ducked behind her dad to escape his mean gaze. She was staring at everyone not to be rude but to figure out the newcomers as friends or foes. It was a game she played. Pretending she has to find the imposter and save the crew. It made her feel brave and slightly less afraid whenever someone new joined the crew.

"No one was left alive on my ship. I was asleep when I heard screaming…" the black crewmate also known as Joe said, stammering a bit. He looked like he had been fighting. It wasn't his first time having an encounter like that. 

That was sus. Either he was super strong and managed to fight the imposters off or he was an imposter.

But knowing her dad, Joe wouldn't get kicked out even if that was suspicious. 

Benefit of the doubt. 

If worse came to worst, Steven had a detailed escape plan. A hidden escape pod for Becky, Bob and himself.

Becky noticed the pink crewmate who hadn't spoken at all since they aboarded. Carrie? Was her name. She was standing a bit to the back. 

She looked sad…

When she noticed Becky staring, she didn't scowl like the other. Instead her face became softer, as a warm tender smile spread across her face. She waved and the young crewmate waved back.

She walked over cautiously, feeling a bit shy.The pink crewmate pulled out a small plushie which the red crewmate accepted. 

Becky heard the adults continue talking. She tried listening, knowing how meetings were supposed to be important and such. But some of the words were lost to her. It was a bit early so she wasn't 100 percent awake yet.

She did catch a few more names however.

Alex the dark green crewmate, Jenkins the cyan crewmate, tubing the orange crewmate and James the purple one. They also seemed like pretty friendly people as well.

"If you guys don't mind me asking" Bob, the blue crewmate and the captain of the ship said. "What was previous occupations?"

"I'm an engineer" 

"Mainly one too. Though i was more so an electrician" jenkins said.

"Scientist"

"Scientist as well"

"And you?" Steven asks. 

Carrie blinked now realizing everyone was looking at her waiting for a response. Truth be told she hadn't been properly listening to what they were talking about. Her mind was wandering. Thinking about all her peers not making it due to the recent imposter attack.

She was grateful her brother and among another crewmate had been swapped to another ship before it all took place. She couldn't say the same for her parents or the captain. They tried to fight back and died. Their bodies shredded and broken.

They fought, she ran. She ran and hid in a vent. Her usual safe spot whenever things got too much for her. not that it stopped her from being found and dragged out.

But the worst thing about it…was it wasn't even the imposter that killed everyone. 

Her eyes drifted landing on the red crewmate that stared dead at her. Seeing the mini crewmate just reminded her of how she wished to retire and settle down. with a family. Never having to worry about the overwhelming dread of dying next or teammates turning their backs on you. Or being shot out through the airlock. Or living with the knowledge of who the killer was, yet unable to say anything.

Returning to current events, she realized what they were waiting for.

Oh right…

"She's a medic" Calvin interjects to which Carrie simply nods. He wanted this meeting to wrap up already. Once everyone's jobs were accounted for and assigned specific tasks for the day, they moved onto the next issue. Room availability.

Many were unused and converted into storage spaces. With the newcomers, they had to be restored back to bunkers.

"Most of the rooms are being renovated. So in the meantime we may have to use the buddy system. And that means some of you will be given the tasks of inventory and clean up. As well as cooking"

Everyone sighed. This was going to be a long trip wasn't it?

Calvin - @ninjastormhawkkat

Joe, athena, jenkins - @chaoticerisstuff

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 199

Achilles Castle part 101

Lemonade and lies Part 44

Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek undercover part 8

Officer Swanson: pov hi you must be Stana and him Greig. Stana doesn't look okay, sir is she okay. She wasn't injured or anything. Greig says I don't know. I haven't checked yet. I just took off her life jacket. With her health I just want to be cautious. If you don't mind me asking, what health issues does she have? He explains her medical history to me which has me concerned. As a precaution I would like to call an ambulance and have her checked out. While we wait for the ambulance he explains what happened in the pool to me. The teens are being handcuffed and taken to the police station.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek/Greig: pov the medics arrive on scene, after going over her medical history with them they hook her up to some monitors. Kate does not want to go to the hospital at all. Her EKG looks okay. The medic says since her chest hurts a little and she doesn't want to go to the ER and her having previous chest trauma. Call her cardiologist to make an appointment to check and make sure everything is okay. But for now take it easy and if she can ice it or use a heating pad and if she has any symptoms bring her in immediately.

Kate/Stana: pov we are finally home after what felt like hours at the pool. Me and Castle have a system where I call the old haunt instead of the house phone or his cellphone, then he calls me back. That way we can talk for a while. Nick is helping me get settled on the sofa, he has some stuff he wants to get done on the computer. After 40 minutes my phone is ringing its Castle calling me back from the old haunt.

Castle: pov I had pizza for dinner, Kate is updating me on how her day went, where is Greig, Kate says on the computer getting some stuff done. I can hear Nick in the back tell her to tell me what happened at the pool. Kind of seems like she doesn't want to tell me.

Kate/Stana: pov ugh Nick it's not a big deal, Castle says what isn't a big deal. Some drunk teen shoved me in the chest in the pool and yes I was wearing my life jacket. I can hear how angry Castle is. I explained that the teen was being mean to a kid with special needs and I stepped in the way. Nick shouts from the other room and she didn't want to go to the ER to get checked out.

Castle: pov Kate is this why you didn't want to tell me. She says her vitals were fine and so was the monitor the EMT’S had me hooked up to for a bit. You better take it easy, the medics told her to just make an appointment with her cardiologist to make sure everything is okay. Kate asks how physical therapy went, it's great I only have a few appointments left before I'm 100 percent. A friend of mine actually picked me up at the loft after therapy so we could go out to eat and catch up.

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek/Greig: pov Kate fell asleep on the sofa talking to Castle, I'm going to have to wake her up so she can go to bed. I carefully wake her up. She looks so exhausted. I can hear her in the bedroom getting ready for bed. I'm so happy the place has a video game console Because It's calling my name. I can’t stay up too late otherwise I might miss the meeting we have in the morning.

Kate/Stana: pov it's now morning I can hear Nick in the kitchen probably making breakfast. I take my meds and head towards the kitchen. My phone is ringing. It's Dr Springfield's office. She must have the results of my allergy test. I hear her say something about the lab doing the blood test having a power outage and it's a real mess trying to see what is okay and what is not rescheduling appointments to re-due the blood tests. The good thing is my allergy test is back the one she did by swabbing my mouth. I’m so nervous Castle isn't here with me.

Dr Springfield: pov did you ever have any food allergies as a kid or family members who did? no, okay from looking at your test results you are 100 percent allergic to pineapple, peanuts and a few other things.

Kate/Stana: pov wait did you say peanuts because I used to have them all the time, had a jar on my desk forever and had to stop eating them because they were bad for my health. I think it's just that they have too much salt or something. In a few weeks I should have my blood test results if they survived otherwise I will have to get more blood work.

Dr Springfield: pov me and my colleagues are stumped by the fact that you are allergic to food you eat and never had a problem, it could just be a delayed reaction but that doesn't seem right either. After you were shot did you have a blood transfusion for the blood loss. Kate says she got so many bags of blood it was as if her own blood didn't exist anymore. Okay that makes sense, some people can have an allergic reaction from blood or get food allergies from them but they should disappear after a few months but what is odd for you it's been a few years. It should have disappeared. I'm going to have to look into this more.

Kate/Stana: pov I will call Castle on a public phone if I find one while we are out today otherwise I will call the old haunt tonight that way i can speak to him. It looks like Nick is making a healthy breakfast. He says he found the recipe online. I set the table and fill our cups with water and juice while he plates our food. He asks how my allergy test turned out, well the place doing the blood test had a power outage and everything is a real mess. But the test Dr Springfield did by swabbing my mouth came back and the results are weird. I'm allergic to pineapple, which we thought and peanuts. Both foods I normally eat. The Dr is trying to figure it out. Wow Nick this food is amazing. To be continued. ……….

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Discovering the Benefits of Biometric Fingerprint Recognition Technology!

One of these fields is biometrics - a logical part that arrangements with individual distinguishing proof utilizing physical or social qualities like fingerprints.

One of the most regularly seen utilizations of biometrics is in computerized security, however numerous different kinds and advantages can emerge out of this unique mark acknowledgment biometric innovation.

Benefits and Uses

To start with, we should discuss advanced security. One of the numerous normal purposes of fingerprints is for validation or demonstrating your character to a framework. Advanced frameworks are involved consistently in our general public - you want a telephone to settle on decisions, a PC to utilize PCs, and here and there even an ATM card to pull out cash from a record.

These frameworks will regularly expect you to give a client name, secret key, or some other verification strategies prior to getting to these administrations. Envision that you are a criminal who hears a telephone discussion between two individuals - maybe it's about some significant data or delicate records - and you get familiar with the PINs for their records. To take this data, you should simply penetrate their telephones and get their passwords from them.

Yet, with computerized security, you can set up a unique finger impression peruser that will expect you to place the scanner prior to utilizing your telephone - regardless of who's utilizing it - and in the event that they don't have the right finger impression, they can not access or utilize the data. This can further develop security essentially, as crooks will have a lot harder time invading telephones to take records or information.

Another advantage is that fingerprints are so natural to utilize.

AFIS (Robotized Unique mark Distinguishing proof Framework) DEFINITION

Robotized Unique mark Distinguishing proof Framework (AFIS) is a biometric framework comprising of a PC data set of finger impression records that can break down and afterward contrast them with see as either known or unidentified fingerprints. Current AFISes can examine in excess of a billion unique finger impression records in no time. The calculations presently being used are 100 percent precise.

Who are the essential clients of AFIS?

Government organizations fundamentally use AFI for distinguishing proof during decisions, common registers, and police. For criminal examinations, the dormant fingerprints recovered from crime locations are contrasted and the information base records of hoodlums who are known and fingerprints from obscure people.

Organizations additionally utilize it to safeguard themselves, e.g., when public IDs aren't solid, and unique mark based recognizable proof could improve their gamble the executives.

Assuming that an ID the board programming utilizes more biometric choices than simply fingerprints (e.g., faces, face, or iris filters), the framework is called an ABIS (Robotized Biometric Distinguishing proof Framework).

What's the Interaction? AFIS Capability?

To help with search and examination, AFIS contains supposed layouts that address the fingerprints put away numerically. At the point when you look for matches, the layouts and not the genuine pictures are analyzed, which brings about more productive inquiry time. (This likewise implies that the standard Hollywood picture of changing fingerprints on PCs is a finished manufacture).

In nations that have problematic personality frameworks in the public framework, Biometrics fingerprinting services edmonton gives the singular's uniqueness in measurable estimations. Being the most dependable type of personality and authentication is thought.

What might AFIS at any point aid with criminal examinations?

AFIS can look into the unique mark of a total or fragmented individual and return competitors that match. The outcomes ordinarily incorporate scores that demonstrate the likelihood of being a decent match inside the AFIS information base. The exactness of the hunt might be improved by having more fingerprints of a similar individual accessible.

Exactness is likewise reliant upon the strength and totality of the unique finger impression. Normalization of formats likewise suggests that AFISes can team up with other electronic fingerprinting stages, e.g., in worldwide examination.

Mechanized Finger impression ID Frameworks don't simply help with finding lawbreakers yet additionally assist with recognizing casualties through fingerprints. Innovatrics AFIS in Indonesia was used to recognize many wave casualties in 2018. This sort of search would have required a long time before it was finished the hard way.

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Design Your Custom Metal NFC Cards for a Secure Payment Solution

In the present advanced age, systems administration, and correspondence have become fundamental parts of any effective business. More than a conventional paper business card with your name, title, and contact data is required. Organizations should be imaginative and innovative in dealing with systems administration to stand apart from the opposition. One such development is the utilization of metal NFC business cards.

  Metal NFC business cards are superb for establishing a long-term connection with likely clients or accomplices. They are smooth, up-to-date, and convey a feeling of incredible skill and refinement. Yet, what precisely are metal NFC business cards.

  NFC, or close field correspondence, is an innovation that considers remote correspondence between gadgets in nearness. NFC innovation is usually utilized in cell phones for portable installments, information moves, and business cards. Metal NFC business cards contain an implanted NFC chip that can be modified to store your contact data, web-based entertainment profiles, and site connections. From there, the sky is the limit.

  The custom metal nfc card from us take this innovation to a higher level by permitting organizations to make remarkable and customized cards. B-in-touch.fr/fr offers extensive customization choices, including different metal gets done, tones, and even laser etching. metal NFC business cards likewise offer a degree of comfort that customary cards can't coordinate. Rather than mishandling through a pile of paper cards to see as correct, beneficiaries can tap their cell phone on the metal card to get to the put-away data.

  One of the enormous benefits of metal nfc business cards is their sturdiness, Unlike conventional paper cards that can undoubtedly get harmed or lost, metal cards are considerably more challenging and can endure mileage. They are additionally waterproof, making them an optimal decision for experts working in wet or damp conditions.

  One more advantage of metal NFC business cards is that they are eco-accommodating. With the rising worry over the effect of plastic on the climate, metal cards give a supportable other option. They are produced using materials that are 100 percent recyclable, pursuing them a naturally capable decision.

  All in all, metal NFC business cards from b-in-touch.fr offer a novel and imaginative method for systems administration and speaking with possible clients or accomplices. They are solid, helpful, and Eco-accommodating, making them a phenomenal venture for any business hoping to stand apart from the opposition. So why settle for a conventional paper card when you have a custom metal NFC card that addresses your image and values

[thetoxicgamer]

C9 Just Keep Winning, Lock Up LCS First Seed in Pivotal Tiebreaker Win Over FlyQuest

After playing all 18 planned games, Cloud9 and FlyQuest tied for first place in the LCS rankings, having previously exchanged positions at the top in the last minutes of the Spring Split. It seemed only fitting that the top two seeds in the postseason bracket would be decided by a winner-take-all tiebreaker between the two teams. When all was said and done, Cloud9 had unquestionably secured the top seed after defeating FlyQuest in one of the split's most intense matches. Earlier this week, FlyQuest got run through by C9 in a match that appeared to all but lock C9 as NA’s number one seed heading into the postseason. However, after C9 lost to CLG and FlyQuest beat TSM to open today’s slate of games, it quickly became guaranteed that the two teams would meet at the end of the day to settle first place. In a real goliath-vs-goliath match, C9 proved that their late-split winning ways were for real, as they ran away from FlyQuest in just over 29 minutes. C9 stays hot, FlyQuest stays cold(ish) While the game these two teams played earlier this week was a one-sided, over-before-it-really-started stomp in favor of C9, today’s game was much closer, and one could even make a case that it was the tightest, most back-and-forth game of the split thus far. Neither team was able to establish a commanding gold lead that exceeded 3,000 until C9’s final push, while the two squads traded blows in both kills and towers throughout the majority of the contest. It wasn’t until C9 secured a Hextech Soul and Baron buff within one minute of each other that they were able to run away with the game and put FlyQuest in the rearview for good. With this win, C9 go into the playoffs on a tear that’s seen them win eight of their last nine games. Meanwhile, FlyQuest are continuing to slump, as they’ve gone 3-4 in their last seven—a stark contrast from the eight-game winning streak that they opened the season with. Did Berserker just clinch MVP? Coming into the tiebreaker match (and for the better part of the last week, too), narratives had been driven up around Berserker and Prince, and how the MVP race was heating up between the two best players at their position. Although other names have floated around the MVP talks this year, Berserker and Prince remained atop the rest of the league. Tonight, Berserker put the discussion to bed completely. Even though Prince earned a Pentakill against TSM earlier today, Berserker put his carry pants on against FlyQuest, taking the game by the reins and flat-out dominating the opposition on a commanding Draven pick. After he was relegated to Varus duty earlier today, Berserker balled out on Draven, finishing with a scoreline of 12/1/2, accounting for over 28 percent of the team’s damage, and earning over 30 percent of their gold. https://twitter.com/LoLEsportsStats/status/1636921576300900352 Still, when asked who should be the MVP of the league in a postgame interview on the LCS broadcast, Berserker remained humble, saying that his teammate Blaber should be named the MVP. C9 and FlyQuest will start the postseason as the number one and number two seeds in the bracket, respectively, Their first-round opponents will be determined by a series of tiebreaker games that are still yet to be played, although some combination of Evil Geniuses, 100 Thieves, and CLG could potentially await them on the horizon. Read the full article

[mariacallous]

In the German city of Weimar, just a few steps from Enlightenment-era literary luminary Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s baroque residence, the Lavazza cafe seems determined to remain in the past. This cafe, like many other establishments all over the country, accepts only cash. That old-fashioned and inconvenient mode of payment is still revered in Germany. According to the latest study by Germany’s central bank, the Bundesbank, on payment behavior, Germans pay for nearly 60 percent of their purchases—both goods and services—in cash.

Germany is not the only country standing athwart the global trend toward cashless payments. In Austria, cash is so popular that the Austrian chancellor has claimed it should amount to a constitutional right. Yet in other European countries, such as the United Kingdom, cash will account for just 6 percent within a decade, and in the Netherlands only 11 percent of transactions were made in cash last year. In other bigger economies, the pace of the decline is even faster. While in China 8 percent of point-of-sale (POS) transactions were made in cash, in India, cash use has declined from 91 percent in 2019 to 27 percent in 2022.

But in Germany, an obsession with privacy, mistrust of big-tech and fintech in general, and worries about political and financial crises depleting bank balances overnight—an experience rooted in history as well as a cultural desire for control—all contribute to the country’s love for cash. Arnold, Maria, Elisabeth, and Harald, a group of middle-aged friends who refused to reveal their full names, were taking a break in Weimar from a road trip on their bicycles from Hessen in western Germany. “Nur Bares ist wahres,” said Elisabeth, which means “only cash is true” and is a famous saying in Germany that expresses more than a preference for cash. Arnold said spending in cash encouraged him to spend less and stay in control of his expenses, but more importantly it protected the details of where he was spending his money. “If you use a card, the bank knows everything about you,” he said. Harald jumped in and added that if he used digital means to pay, he would “feel surveilled.”

But as some European states, such as Sweden, go nearly cashless, with only 6 percent of transactions still settled with banknotes, how does Germany’s preference for cash impact the largest economy in Europe? Perhaps not as much as one might think.

On average, Germans carry more than 100 euros in their wallets—much more than their counterparts in many other developed nations. Since the euro was introduced, the Bundesbank has issued more cash than any other member in the 27-nation European Union, and according to the Bundesbank report, even though cash use was down from 74 percent in 2017, as high as 69 percent of respondents expressed their intention to continue to pay in cash.

Agnieszka Gehringer, a professor at Cologne University of Applied Sciences, said German fondness for cash can be understood via cultural attachment theory and behavioral factors. She explained that, culturally, cash is seen as safe by Germans. “If I have been customarily using cash as a payment method for ages and I know how it works and my data remain protected, there is no particular reason to change my habit,” she told FP.

Gehringer traced these behavioral and cultural attitudes in part to hyperinflation witnessed in the Weimar Republic in 1923, when a loaf of bread cost billions of marks; steep devaluation of the currency after World War II, which washed out nearly 90 percent of people’s savings; and the division of the country, which left the Soviet-controlled east impoverished. “This series of turbulences is considered the basis of the so-called German angst—the fear of losing control,” Gehringer said. “Beyond culture and attitude, for some others, cash is a means of self-control and self-supervision: It is more transparent and easier to track the record of personal expenditures.”

While the fear of losing everything in a quick turn of events was passed on from generation to generation, so was the positive symbolism of the Deutsche mark. Post-World War II Deutsche marks rose in value and symbolized Germany’s resurgence and prosperity. In the late 1990s, Germans reluctantly agreed to a common European currency—but perhaps only because by then Germany was among the biggest European economies and influential in European decision-making.

Another reason to avoid possession of plastic money or credit cards is the fear of debt. “Germans do not like debt,” said Doris Neuberger, head of the money and credit department at Germany’s University of Rostock. In fact, the German word for debt and guilt are derived from the same word (Schuld), and this moral charge helps produce the country’s “low debt ratio and low usage of credit cards.”

Using cash is also easy for a wide range of consumers, including the elderly, who may be unfamiliar and uncomfortable with using smartphones or keystrokes online. It’s also cheaper for retailers and end consumers on transactions under 50 euros, as the cost of holding cash is lower than the fees incurred with non-cash payments, according to the Bundesbank. But the cost of producing, storing, and transporting bank notes and coins is eventually passed on to consumers, experts say.

There are other downsides to excessive use of cash, too. According to a report by the Office of Technology Assessment at the German Bundestag, high levels of cash holdings reduce the central bank’s “monetary policy steering options,” Gehringer wrote. “Sure, holding cash has a higher hurdle to make the money available for financial investments.”

But most experts say the argument that cash exacerbates the shadow economy tends to be overstated. The Office of Technology Assessment report noted that in countries with less cash spending, such as Switzerland, the Netherlands, and France, there is less activity in the shadow economy when compared to countries such as Spain, Italy, and Greece, which have high rates of cash use. But it added that in Sweden, despite a minor role for cash, the shadow economy is “medium-sized,” while in Austria and Germany, with relatively high shares of cash transactions, the shadow sector is relatively small.

In 2019, the Bundesbank conducted a study on the extent of “illicit cash use” in Germany, in collaboration with Friedrich Schneider, a professor at the Johannes Kepler University Linz. It said that without more in-depth analysis it was “impossible to distinguish those stocks of banknotes that are being held as a store of value—and kept at home under the mattress totally legally and legitimately by every citizen—from illicit banknote stocks.” On average, a German hoards more than 1,300 euros at home or in a safe deposit box.

“Available estimates for the size of the shadow economy lie between 2 percent and 17 percent of gross domestic product,” the study said. “This range alone shows that studies of the shadow economy are subject to an above average degree of uncertainty and all results should be interpreted with care.”

“Cash does not promote a shadow economy, as it is not a cause,” Schneider, a co-author of the study, told FP. “Causes are tax burden, regulations, etc.” Schneider said the higher the tax burden, the higher the motivation to evade taxes. “If cash is completely abolished, then people find other means.” He added that earlier uses of cash were more firmly linked to tax evasion than now, when “it is very difficult to open a bank account abroad with a large cash sum of money.” Money laundering in real estate is deterred with a different set of regulations.

Neuberger claimed much more criminal activity is conducted with digital money than with cash. “Nowadays, the ideal medium for illegal drug transactions is not cash, but Amazon gift cards,” she said. “Gift tokens allow for anonymous payments anywhere in the world and, unlike cash, do not require a face-to-face transaction. The same holds for prepaid credit cards, which can be loaded with cash anonymously.”

Burkhard Balz, a member of the executive board of the Deutsche Bundesbank, told FP no initiatives have been taken by the government to discourage or disincentive the use of cash and that it is “an excellent back option should other payment methods end up temporarily out of action—because of a power outage or software error.” Regulations to limit cash use are deemed politically unpopular in Germany, especially since people and experts just don’t see any disadvantages to carrying on with folded euros in their pockets and wallets.

A digital euro, however, could reduce the costs of producing, storing, and transporting cash. It wouldn’t be tied to any intermediary banking institution—as opposed to electronic payments, which are intermediated by multiple banks—and won’t even require a bank account. Balz said the digital euro would ensure “the accessibility and usability of central bank money alongside cash in a digitized world.”

“Currently, the Eurosystem is about to conclude its two-year investigation phase on a digital euro and may move into the next phase of the project—the preparation phase,” he said, “provided that the [European Central Bank] Governing Council takes this decision in late autumn this year.”

At least some private banks believe that payments made with the digital euro could still be tracked and help with anti-money laundering regulations, but not without placing limits on the highly prized privacy of citizens. Furthermore, it could lead to a reduction in deposits to credit institutions and limit the ability of the banks to offer loans.

Online purchases rose from 6 percent in 2017 to 24 percent in 2022 amid the COVID lockdown, but neither the pandemic nor digitization so far has managed to eliminate the appeal and comfort of cash for Germans. Even though Germany’s banking industry envisages a growth of 2 percent per year in card payments, a cash decline of 3 percent a year would still mean that, in 2030, Germans will carry out at least 30 percent of transactions in cash.

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[siriusist]

tag game! i was tagged by @softguarnere​ and @emmythespacecowgirl​. Thanks, babes! <3

1. Are you named after anyone?

Sort of- I wasn’t specifically named after Lauren Bacall, but my mom thought it was a classy, non-specific enough name. My last name is quite Eastern European, and my mom didn’t want me to be named not TOO Eastern that I stood out or got bullied for it. I was originally going to be named after my father (Milan), so the feminine Milana, which is basically an Eastern version of Michaela, but my mom overruled and went with Lauren. I do like the thought of being named after Lauren Bacall, though, as she’s a baddie. <3

2. When was the last time you cried?

I haven’t cried in a while, but I guess the last time I had a bit of a panic attack was a couple of weeks ago when my computer with all my templates on it for my bar exam broke after I dropped it, and I had to buy a new computer at the same time my student loan payments restarted and came in (ugh). I’m trying to save money until my next pay check this Wednesday.

3. Do you have kids?

PLEASE NO. (As in, I wouldn’t trust myself with the life of one and I don’t have the money for it now. Also, I’d have to find someone who I’d want to raise children with. I’d go for one or two if I met someone supportive and kind, but also probably later in life. My mom was 42 when she had me, so I sort of naturally fall into the benefits of having a kid later when you’re probably more financially settled and mature).

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I AM sarcasm. Although, I’m not going to say I’m super-sarcastic. I’m going to say I’m more dry deadpan absurdist. I see the absurdity in things and it makes me laugh, and my delivery with things is quite dry, but with a small smile.

5. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Their attitude. I can’t stand people who are snotty, dismissive, or just clearly not giving you 100 percent of their attention if I’m giving them 100 percent of my attention. What makes you think you’re better than me, baby?

6. Eye color?

Light green. I’ve been told time and time again that they’re the best thing on my face.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I like thrillers, if that counts for “scary” movies, but I do like happy endings. I’m not a fan of gore movies or “shock” horror.

8. Any special talents?

I used to play scholarship-level elite volleyball, until I retired and then my knees and hips were like NOPE. 

Besides that, I’d say I’m pretty quick-witted, and can usually cut someone down to the bone in a nice way when I call them on their B.S., with a smile. I don’t trust people who think they can outthink me.

And then I guess I’m a good listener? People tend to confide in me, which I think is a talent in and of itself.

9. What are your hobbies?

Tumblr (lol), Youtube/Tiktok, long walks, swimming, being at the beach, being close to nature, weighlifting/training, listening to audiobooks/podcasts, obsessing over the perfect music playlist, attending sports games, beach volleyball (easier on the hips/knees than indoor- although I haven’t played in a year because I’m completing my lawyer training in a frozen tundra).

10. Where were you born?

Canada (No I will not be more specific, lol).

11. Do you have any pets?

I had a red Australian Shepherd named Beau growing up, who was my best friend. <3 He lived till 12, bless his heart. We haven’t had the heart to get an animal to replace him yet, and my mum is allergic to cats. Otherwise I probably would get a cat. But at home, there’s a big ginger cat that passes through our back yard that belongs to the neighbours, and I like to think he’s sort of ours <3

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played varsity volleyball and swimming in high school- provincial team volleyball, and then university and elite level semi-pro leagues that I got a scholarship to study abroad for. Like I mentioned above, my knees and lower joints are now shot though, so I’m old and do things that don’t require so much dynamic movement/is gentler (beach volleyball, weightlifting, swimming). 

I also did soccer when I was younger, but I tried to kick someone for scoring on me, so I think my parents realized it wasn’t the sport for me (In my defense- I was seven).

Lastly, I tried to learn how to skate to play ice hockey because #canada, but of course I wanted to be a goalie, and that’s the most expensive position to play. My dad said if I learned to skate first, he’d look at buying me equipment. I lasted three months because just like my knees and hips, I’ve got terrible ankle strength and have rolled my ankles more times than I can count (Whoops).

I also played a bit of tennis, but I always loved serving because I could crush it from volleyball, but I was never good at being particularly agile around the court (Dragging my 6′0/1.83m ass around the court).

Oh, and I tried horseback riding. But we could never afford it full time, so it was literally my major summer birthday gift from like 8-11 that I went to a horseback riding “camp” for a week and got to ride horses. I’d still ride horses if I could afford it today. I love them. <3

13. How tall are you?

I’m 6′0/1.83m. I’m relatively tall for a girl.

14. Favorite subject in school?

History/ English.

15. Dream job?

I don’t dream of being a lawyer, but I dream of being a lawyer as a means to an end (as in, informing policy to help people, writing dissertations as a professor on SA in sports and what the law can do to help vulnerable people, etc.) I’m not into file work as a lawyer, so whatever I can do cerebrally to approach it and help inform those who can put good policies into practice, I’m into. So if I could get any job in the world, I’d love to be a combo historian/ history professor/ law professor.

TAG GAME

Thank you for the tag @mads-weasley !! 💖

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes & No. I was originally adopted so technically I was named twice! My birth-name was Yusel & I was named after a beautiful doll my birth-mom fell in love with! The name it was changed to (my current name) was just a name my mom liked better lol

2. When was the last time you cried?

I think last week after I got my meds adjusted & I was feeling really weepy & shit

3. Do you have kids?

Not yet but I hope to in the future!!

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Too much 🤣

5. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Their eyes!

6. Eye color?

Black in some lights, melty chocolate brown in others

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings!! My PTSD generally doesn't tolerate horror movies very well 😅

8. Any special talents?

Hm...I can sing but idk if that qualifies as "special" per se. I'm weirdly good with animals, does that count?

9. What are your hobbies?

Writing, listening to music, performing, watching crime shows & documentaries, anything historical, singing, spending time with animals, going to museums & like historical sites, traveling when I get the chance

10. Where we’re you born?

Uruguay!

11. Do you have any pets?

I do! I have a Shih Tzu named Yoda (she's our princess 🥰) & I live with my mom, who has a Yorkie!

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

When I was in middle school, I was JV captain for Volleyball & I played softball, danced, & did martial arts! In high school & college, I just danced. Currently, I don't play any sports

13. How tall are you?

I’m 5’5"!

14. Favorite subject in school?

Hm I really loved English Lit!

15. Dream job?

Hm, something working with animals for sure but I think overall, I'd rather just be a housewife & own a farm instead!

Tagging: @softguarnere @mccall-muffin @first-husband-lipton @emmythespacecowgirl @indigo-luvers @chaosklutz @vibing-away@ollieofthebeholder & anybody else who wants to do it! 💖

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

HOT DAY AND A TIRED MAN

This fic is dedicated to @lovelyladyraven for being my first ever paid commission.

Shouta Aizawa x fem reader

Tw:dangerous situation, breeding, OVERSTIMULATION

Word count: 3.5k

This was not how you had planned to spend your day. Your boss had decided that the roof needed to be cleaned on the second hottest day this summer! Of course you were the only one who had just finished up their task so he sent you to do it by yourself with a promise of sending the next available person up to switch with you soon. Instead you had spent two hours cleaning up dirt and shining the vents on a roof that no one but maintenance workers ever set foot on! Once you had seen how much time had passed you went to the door with every intention of stomping down the stairs and clocking out, not willing to do overtime just to clean a roof. But the knob wouldn't turn no matter how hard you pulled. You banged on the door a few times only to realize that one of the idiots that you work with had locked the door. Quickly you took out your phone and called the store phone no answer, then your boss's phone no answer, then you called the two other coworkers who had been working with you today. Not a single person answered you! You went over to the side of the building that looked over the parking lot seeing that all their cars were already gone from their usual spots. The bastards had left for the day and left you locked on the roof with no way to go home or even get water. You tried for another 30 minutes to reach your boss and coworkers only for them to start rejecting your calls. They did this on purpose. You went and sat in the shade of the roof door access and took a few calming breaths. You knew that they weren't going to come back until tomorrow and you also knew that they probably expected you to sit up here and cry waiting till morning for them to come and "save" you. So instead you looked up the number for the local fire department. Once someone picked up you heard a deep gravelly voice through the speaker. 

"Fire station 6 what can I help you with?" 

The man seemed tired and kind of put out but instead of apologizing for bothering him like your brain was screaming at you to do, you cleared your throat and spoke. You gave him a detailed rundown of your situation and explained that you would have called the emergency line first except your boss's wife worked the police directory and if he was locking you on the roof like this you were afraid that his wife would just not send anyone to help you. It was a small town and things like that were constantly looked over as long as you knew the right people. He hummed in agreement.

" That's sad but true. I know your boss and his wife well enough that you're probably 100 percent right about what they would do and how they would cover this up. They've done it before. Me and a few guys will be there in about 20 minutes to come get you down. Just keep calm and do your best to stay out of the sun until then we don't need you getting any more dehydrated than you already are."

He gave a quick goodbye and hung up. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing that you had chosen correctly when you called the fire station. You sat in the shade and tried to put a face to the voice of the tired firefighter who would be coming to free you from your rooftop prison. Like a fool you had never asked his name. As you thought about it you started to get a bit lightheaded. It had definitely been too long since you had any water. The heat was starting to get to you now that your adrenaline had stopped pumping so hard. With nothing else to do you layed down as much in the shade as you could and did a breathing exercise. During your exercise you must have blacked out because the next thing you knew you were being carried down the stairs in a set of strong arms. 

The person carrying you was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what they were saying over the fog that was covering your brain. You knew the sound of that voice though. It was the tired firefighter but he sounded a whole lot less tired and a whole lot more angry. You really hoped he wasn't angry at you. Maybe you were too heavy and he was annoyed at having to lug you down the stairs. With a weak hand you reached up maybe to apologize somehow, but ended up cupping his cheek. His stubble felt funny in your already funny feeling hand. He stopped walking at the feeling of your hand on his face. You still couldn't open your eyes so instead you mumbled a garbled sorry and proceeded to pass back out going limp. The last thing you heard was the tired firefighter yelling at someone, maybe you?

You woke up again this time to the feeling of something plastic on your face. Opening your eyes was still a bit too much for you so you listened and tried to figure out what was going on. You vaguely remember the tired voice you had spoken to before you felt light headed and the feeling of being carried. As you listened you could make out the sounds of machines. Slowly you took stock of your body. You were sore and kinda warm but you could move a little bit. You breathed deeply, finally realizing that the plastic was an oxygen tube. You were definitely in the hospital then. After a few more minutes your eyes were in good enough condition that you opened them to look around the room. When you did you saw someone slumped in the chair in the corner. This was incredibly strange since you had no family in this town. Doing your best you cleared your throat preparing to ask who they were. At your sound the person's head shot up, eyes wide. 

It was a man with tired eyes and long black hair that was on the scruffy side; it easily matched the stubble of a beard on his chin and cheeks. He stood up definitely tall enough to tower over you even when you were standing up yourself. The man walked to your bedside and took a deep breath before speaking. 

"It's good to see you awake little one. I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up. I'm the firefighter you spoke to asking for help when you were on the roof. I have a lot to explain to you but I'm gonna call the doctor in and have them look you over before anything else."

He called out into the hall after that and a doctor and a nurse bustled into the room within minutes. Your throat was too dry to answer their questions so you stuck to little nods and head shakes as they began to check your vitals and adjust your iv drip. Once they were sure you were stable enough you were once again left with your savior and no voice to thank him with. He came closer and pulled the chair along with him to settle in for your conversation. 

"So you've been out of it for about 3 days. You got sunstroke while you were on the roof and your boss had double locked the door to get in and the door to the roof which slowed us down in getting to you. Your boss and his wife and your 2 coworkers have all been arrested. It was your boss's idea though apparently he kept hitting on you but you didn't give him the time of day so he wanted to teach you a lesson. His wife had your name flagged so that if you had called for help it would have given a dispatcher a notification to ignore you as a false reporter. His wife found out about his interest in you and was planning on making sure you were stuck on that roof all night. Your coworkers just went along with it because they didn't want to deal with your boss's anger."

Hearing all this pissed you off beyond belief. They could have killed you all because you would be a man's mistress and the man's wife would rather hurt someone than confront her husband. He looked at your face and patted your knee knowing there was nothing he could say that would make you feel any better about this. You looked up at him and grabbed his hand and brought it to your forehead, touching his knuckles there before placing a kiss on them. You were kind of happy that you couldn't really talk just yet because the blush on this man's cheeks was well worth the dry throat. He poured you a cup of water and handed it to you. You gave him a small smile and drank it gratefully. 

Eventually you could speak some and the two of you formally introduced yourselves. He was Shouta Aizawa, the fire station chief and local fire safety instructor for this area. He hadn't felt right leaving you alone after he had gotten you off the roof and found that you lived alone in this town. He came off very blunt and serious but you could see his deep kindness in his actions. The doctors came back in, cutting your conversation short and making Shouta go back to his spot in the corner. After a few more checks the doctors cleared you to go home the following day as long as you had someone to watch over you for the next three days till your follow up appointment was. You frowned cause you did have any close friends who could do that for you. As you pondered over it you heard Shouta's voice over the doctor's. 

"If you don't have a problem I can have you stay over in the guestroom at my house. I was already on a temp leave due to watching over you here so it wouldn't be much different with you at my house."

This man with a deep whiskey voice truly had a heart of gold. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth you readily agreed. After you had been up a few more hours and had a little bit to eat, Shouta left with the promise of a freshly cleaned room waiting for you tomorrow. You fell asleep that night feeling more cared for than you ever truly had. You woke up again slightly disoriented and thirsty but in much better condition than you had been the day prior. It was early so you took your time shaking the numbness out of your limbs and getting back your bearings. The nurse came in fussing about you standing with calling anyone to be a catcher for you. She stopped fussing though when she realized that you were indeed stable enough to walk to the bathroom alone. 

Shouta had called the nurses station around 10 to let them know he'd be there by 12. With a few puppy dog looks you had a shower chair and an orderly who helped wash your hair and walk you back to bed. They had given you some hospital pajamas that you happily wore instead of the ugly gowns you had woken up in. You were clean and relaxed by the time Shouta had arrived to sign you out of the hospital. A nurse came around with a wheelchair and wheeled you down to the exit while the car was brought around. Shouta opened the door for the backseat but instead of giving you a hand to climb in he leaned down and scooped you out of the chair. Once you had been sat comfortably on the seat he shut the door leaving you with a moment to appreciate just how strong his arms were.

The drive to Shouta's home was relatively quick as is the way of small towns. His house was nice and seemed to be a cozy ranch style. After pulling into the garage you tried to get out yourself only to be caught up against a hard chest as your legs gave out the moment they were made to take your full weight. You looked up to see an exasperated glare. Part of your brain filled with chastised thoughts as the other filled with dirty thoughts. You really had to be better behaved when It came to your savior and benefactor but with him being so sinfully attractive it was kinda hard to do. Once again you were carried by the tired man this time into his home and deposited on the lone couch in his living room. He sat on his coffee table and faced you with a sigh. 

"You're really gonna have to rely on me for a few days brat. Your body is trying to heal and you pushing it as you just did isn't doing the process any favors."

You sighed and agreed with him. After a short conversation about a few things you might need from the store and checking about any food allergies he got ready and  headed to the store. You sat alone watching tv before clicking into his YouTube app to see what he watched most. A loud laugh burst from your chest as you realized that most of his watch history was full of cat videos and a few interviews with a local late night radio host. You watched the radio hosts videos thoroughly entertained by his boisterous personality. The next thing you knew you were being shaken awake by Shouta having fallen asleep with videos still playing on the tv. He helped you up and walked you to the bathroom and waited outside before scooping you up yet again. He was making it so damn hard not to think dirty thoughts when he kept carrying you around as if you were a small animal or something. Like sir the butterflies are in the stomach now but they will quickly fly south if you keep being so quietly sexy. A few hours later you were lying in bed when your thoughts finally got the best of you and had you touching your pussy as images of Shouta glaring down at you with his arms crossed showed behind your eyelids.

You had no idea how loud you were being as you rubbed your clit harshly, trying to get to the finish line. As you came you choked out his name. While you panted and came down from your high Shouta made his way back to his room quietly. He leaned back against his door and made a call before laying in his bed to jerk his very hard, very neglected cock. His brain kept replaying the sounds you made, the way you choked out his name as you came, how a satisfied little smile curled on your lips after you reached the finish line. He came with a growl, satisfied but not. He was definitely going to end up in trouble by the end of the week and he couldn't find it in himself to care. The following two days followed the same pattern, spending the day together and spending the night getting off to thoughts of the other in separate rooms. Though you were surprised to find that Shouta regularly walked around the house in nothing but sweatpants holding a full mug of coffee. On the fourth day you had become well enough to no longer need to be carried or walked everywhere. You were a little confused by Shouta's attitude as he had been glaring at the space above your head for most of the day. Finally tired of him doing this, you confronted him about it. You were not expecting his answer in the slightest. 

"I've spent the last three nights hearing you play with your pussy while calling my name, I'm hard enough to hammer nails and I can't get out any over this energy cause I'm supposed to be watching out for you. All I wanna do is fuck you till you lose your mind. me glaring above your head has been me doing my best not to seduce you like an asshole."

He said everything in such a deadpan manner that you couldn't help but laugh. Once you caught your breath you grinned at him and pulled your shirt off over your head. Sitting on his couch with your tits hanging free and your nipples hardening in the cool air you proceeded to play with them. You were immediately picked up and taken to his room before being dropped on the bed. Never let it be said that the tired man couldn't move fast as you were stripped of your remaining clothes before he stripped himself bare. He pulled you to the edge of his bed by your ankles and dropped to his knees, a fierce smile on his lips. 

"Been wanting to taste this bratty pussy for days. Bet it's as sweet as it looks."

His first lick was long. From your hole all the way over your clit. The squeak you let out at the feeling only made him more hungry. He spent what felt like an endless amount of time licking and thrusting his tongue as deep into your pussy as he could. By the time he finally gave your clit some much needed attention his chin was covered in pussy juice and your hole was fluttering as if it was seeking to be filled. Shouta teased you with a few small licks over your clit, making you whine and beg him to give you more. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he locked eyes with you and sucked your clit into his mouth. He sucked hard making you scream and thrash wildly. Your hands were buried in his hair as you squirted into his mouth. Your hips only stayed on the bed because of his strong arms keeping you in place. When he finally released your clit pussy juice was steadily leaking from your still twitching hole. 

"Oh did I break you already? You were so bold before and now you're just a mess. Think you can take my cock or do you want me to tuck you in for a nap."

The shit eating grin on his face was enough for you to pull his hair and glare at him. He sat up and shoved your wrists above your head to hold in one of his large hands. Slowly he worked his fat dripping cock into your almost too tight pussy. You whined and moaned his name as he finally bottomed out hitting your back wall. He stretched you more than you ever had been before but it was so damn good. Shouta started slow, one hand gripping your thigh as he ignored your demands for him to speed up.

"You're gonna take what I give you like a good girl or I'll just pull out and cum all over you right now."

That shut you up except for the constant stream of moans that left your throat. Just as you were finally getting used to being split by such a thick cock he changed his rhythm. Fast pounding thrusts that knocked the breath from your lungs were nearly constant. You didn't have enough breath to scream so you sobbed. Your half words were incoherent except for "sho please." Shouta leaned down and whispered in your ear as his thrusts once again spread up. He bit your ear lobe before making you lose your mind. 

"Such a tight little hole. I can't believe I had the strength to ignore it for three days. I could have at least eaten it while you laid back and rested. God I'm gonna have you for breakfast tomorrow." 

The utter heat in his words threw you over the edge making you cum so hard you began to shake. He growled as your pussy clenched down on him. Shouta sunk his teeth into the pillow by your head before shoving his cock against your cervix and shooting his cum against it. As soon as he finished cuming he started to thrust again. No slow start this time, just hard pounding thrusts that made you wail in pleasure. It didn't take long for you to cum again but Shouta lasted longer this time entirely fucking his cum out of you before finally cuming inside again just as deep as the first time. 

He pulled out and laid down next to you before pulling you on to his chest. You both panted trying to breathe like normal human beings again. Right as your breathing evened out you heard a voice from the doorway. And looked up to see the blonde radio host trailing his eyes over the two of you.

"I told you you wouldn't make it till I got home sho."

[arrowflier]

I wish you would write a fic where the gallaghers + kev & vee find out about ian's 87% comment and they all give their opinions and ask why mickey, ian's husband who's been a part of ian's life for nearly eleven years only gets 87% of his heart, if the other 13% goes towards his toxic exes and why since they're not in his life anymore, ian explaining himself and ends with ian taking the comment back so mickey has 100% of his heart

I decided this was perfect for Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It! Thanks as always to @gallavichthings for hosting💖. Also on AO3.

Eighty-Seven Percent (Anatomy of a Heart)

It was a normal morning in the Gallagher kitchen.

That is to say, it was chaotic.

Carl and Liam sat across from each other at the narrow table, tossing dry loops of off-brand cereal at each other over Franny’s backpack, which lay open between them. The girl herself was running circles around them both in her pajamas, Debbie chasing after her with a stern face and a frilly dress held in outstretched hands.

“Come on, Franny,” she muttered impatiently as her daughter evaded her again by diving under the table, “just put on the dress!”

Mickey laughed when Franny ran to him instead, trying to hide behind his legs where he stood by the brewing coffeemaker. Ian ruined her attempt by swinging her up into his arms and twirling her around until Debbie snatched her from him, resulting in an angry shriek as Franny writhed in her hold.

“For fuck’s sake, keep it down in here!” Lip hissed, coming in from the living room where Tami had just gotten Fred settled in his play pen. “If you get Fred crying again, I swear I’ll fucking end you all.”

If anything, the kitchen got louder as everyone there chimed in in their own defense.

Mickey just snorted as he grabbed two mugs and got to pouring the fresh coffee. “Good luck with that,” he offered to Lip, amused. “You get one Gallagher going, you get the whole fucking pack.”

Lip glared at him, opened his mouth the say something undoubtedly scathing and most likely regarding Mickey’s place in the family, when Carl laughed and chimed in from the table.

“Funny, man, that’s what Trevor said to me and Ian at the station yesterday.”

The room went quiet.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to Ian, who could see the way his husband’s back immediately tensed at the familiar name, the way he gripped the handle of his mug a little too tight and poured the coffee a little too high before setting down the pot with a hard clack.

“Trevor, huh?” Mickey asked, voice deceptively mild, and Ian winced behind him.

Carl didn’t get the memo.

“Yeah, you remember him, right?” he checked. “He still works at that youth place, came in to post bail for some kid when Ian was bringing by lunch.” He shrugged, tossed a handful of cereal into his mouth. “We chatted a bit,” he mumbled as he chewed.

Mickey gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles going white under his tattoos. “Funny,” he said quietly, “Ian didn’t think to mention that.”

Ian sighed, ignoring the eyes of his family on their quickly unfolding drama. They’d been fighting a lot lately, a lot more than they used to, and today had been shaping up to be better, damn it. Now he had to do damage control again instead of enjoying a quiet day in with his husband.

“We’ve talked about this, Mickey,” he started, a tad bit exasperated. It must have come through in his voice, because Mickey’s shoulders went up. “Trevor’s not a bad guy, and I’m not gonna avoid him if I see him around.”

Mickey released the counter to grab his coffee again, taking a long, scalding swallow. “Right,” he said finally, not looking at Ian. “Not a bad guy at all. Just wanted to leave your ass rotting in jail when you couldn’t be his poster boy anymore, that’s all.”

“Mickey…” Ian warned, but it didn’t stop him.

“Tell me, Ian,” Mickey mused, turning to face him with hard eyes. “How much of that thirteen percent belongs to him?”

Fuck. Not that again.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Debbie was the one to ask first, voice cutting through their palpable tension. She’d even stopped trying to force the dress over Franny’s head in the interim, allowing the girl to escape up the stairs unscathed. “What thirteen percent?”

“Oh yeah, he told me about that,” Lip butted in. “Said Mickey got all bent out of shape cause Ian still thinks about his exes, or something, right?”

Ian closed his eyes against the hurt in Mickey’s as his brother revealed that he knew about their squabble. Fuck his family right now, seriously.

“Not quite,” he gritted out, but when he opened his eyes again, Mickey had schooled his face back into disinterest.

“No, that’s just about it,” Mickey confirmed. “Got my nose out of joint because Ian, here,” he gestured at Ian with his mug, ignoring the hot coffee that splashed over the side, “said I only got eighty-seven percent of his heart.”

Someone whistled, low and long. Ian couldn’t tell who.

“It’s not that big a deal,” he insisted yet again. “My whole life is a fucking shrine to you, Mick. If my heart was a room, there’s be posters of you on every fucking wall.” He took a step closer, until Mickey’s mug pressed into his own chest, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

“You really can’t let the others have a little space in that room? Not even in the bottom drawer of a dresser that nobody uses anyway?”

Mickey was still, and silent. Then he spun around and slammed his mug back down on the counter, shoved past Ian, and stormed off up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Ian called after him.

“To clean out the goddamn drawers!”

It was quiet in Mickey’s wake, and then—

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Carl said frankly, and Liam nodded in agreement, eyes wide.

“Did you really say that?” Debbie asked, sounding horrified, and before Ian could answer the back door slammed open.

“Morning neighbors!” Vee greeted as she came through, Kev on her heels. She was holding something, a dish covered in foil, and a carton of juice hung from Kev’s hand.

“We brought you guys some…” Vee trailed off when no one even looked at her, noticing the tension in the room.

“Uh,” she voiced, confused, “what did we miss?”

Carl answered, still looking at Ian in disbelief. “Ian told Mickey he keeps stuff from his exes in a drawer, so Mickey’s up there looking for it.”

“Oh, that’s cold man,” Kev breathed, and Ian exhaled.

“It was a metaphor,” he muttered, and Vee heard him.

“A metaphor for what?” she asked, curious.

“For the thirteen percent of Ian’s heart that belongs to other people,” Debbie revealed, and Vee set down her dish with a clatter.

“You said that to him?” she clarified, and at Ian’s reluctant nod, shook her head and turned to Kev.

“You ever say shit like that to me,” she said firmly, “I’ll cut off thirteen percent of your dick.”

—

A few long minutes later, after he had finally escaped his family’s inquisition about the state of his relationship, Ian made his way upstairs, alone.

When he got to their bedroom, Mickey wasn’t actually going through their things. He was just sitting on their bed, back to the wall, spinning his wedding ring round and round on his finger. Next to him, balanced on their folded blanket, sat the little box with the fancy ones they used in the ceremony just so they wouldn’t have to take theirs off.

Ian’s heart beat harder. That box had been sitting safe in the bottom drawer of their shared dresser.

The one that nobody used.

“Hey,” he said softly from the doorway. Mickey didn’t look up.

“You okay?” Ian asked, and that at least got a response.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” Mickey returned, eyes on his knees.

He didn’t. Not really. He looked haggard, and upset, his hair spiky where restless fingers had combed through it. Ian couldn’t see his eyes, but he had a feeling they were rimmed in red.

Ian let himself into the room, sat opposite Mickey on the bed with his feet still firmly on the floor. He reached out to trace a finger over the rings in the box, and then the ring on Mickey’s finger.

Mickey let his own hand fall away when he did.

“You know that’s not how I meant it, right?” Ian asked, suddenly desperate to hear Mickey agree. He needed to know that Mickey understood, that just because he remembered his past, it didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated to his future.

But Mickey just shrugged.

“Not a lot of ways you can mean it,” he said, and shit. Ian had really fucked up this time. “Either I have your whole heart or I don’t,” Mickey continued, “and I don’t. So,” he shrugged again, “whatever.”

Ian took a moment. A long one. He thought of Mickey’s reaction the first time he had said it, when he was mostly just teasing. The way he had been shocked to think that Ian still had fond thoughts for other men. And he thought of his family downstairs, each one more fucked up than the last, all in agreement over the severity of his error.

And to be honest, he still didn’t quite get the uproar. But maybe that was because none of them got his side, either.

“You’re right,” he began, “you don’t.”

Mickey tensed further, pulling away from him on the bed, but Ian wasn’t done.

“You have all the good bits, you know,” he continued. He went to rest a hand on Mickey’s chest, saw his stiffness, and pointed at his own instead.

“You have all four chambers,” he told him. “Atrium and ventricle. You keep my blood moving, keep it useful, keep me alive. And you have my valves,” he added, trailing a finger side to side to point to the right spots as he spoke. “Mitral and aorta, pulmonary and tricuspid.” He smiled. “You keep me going in the right direction.”

Mickey was softening, he could tell, the tension seeping from his limbs as Ian droned on. He kept going anyway.

“You have all my arteries, Mick,” he whispered. “You’re in all my veins. You said I was under your skin, once?” Ian laughed. “Well you’re under my skin, too. And in my muscles, and in my blood.”

“And the others, they’re like…” he hesitated, searched for the right words. Better words than he had used before. “They’re like cholesterol,” he settled on, “plaque. Or…like the scar tissue from a triple bypass, the parts that don’t work anymore.”

Mickey’s lips quirked, despite himself, and Ian counted it as a victory.

“You have a lot a heart surgeries, Gallagher?” he questioned softly, catching on.

Ian smile widened, and he reached out to take Mickey’s hand. This time, Mickey didn’t pull away.

“Maybe a few,” he admitted. “And maybe I’m better for it.”

He lifted Mickey’s hand to his lips, held it there.

“I don’t mind the broken bits,” he told his husband. “The pieces they left behind. Because you pushed through them every time, and made me healthy again.”

Mickey fidgeted, and nudged himself off the wall to settle closer to Ian’s side.

“Alright,” he allowed, “I get it.”

“Do you?” Ian asked earnestly. “Because I want you to, you know.” He dropped Mickey’s hand to hold his face instead, gently stroking a thumb over his cheek. “I want you to know that that thirteen percent, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters are the parts that are you.”

"I chose you, Mickey," he murmured. He reached out blindly for the spare rings in their box on the bed, worked one free. Slipped it onto Mickey's finger without looking away from his eyes. Mickey's hand clenched around it, around Ian's hand, and held tight.

"I married you," Ian added. "Because I love you with every real part of my heart, every little bit that works."

“All eighty-seven percent?” Mickey prods with a soft expression, leaning forward until his nose brushes Ian’s.

“All eighty-seven percent,” Ian confirmed, and kissed him.