#I really need to make a list of all the names for these nations because I hate using their modern name’s

[endofthelinegang]

the patriot

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  john walker x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  #90 from the prompt list "If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?" 

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  bad words 

use this magical link here to find a number and give me a request for ANY marvel character :)

The op was supposed to be clean.

Get in, get the files, don’t get blown up. Real simple. Barely an inconvenience. Except for the part where every camera system in the building was running on spaghetti code and Cold War duct tape. Except for the part where John Walker—your Thunderbolt teammate, reluctant handler, and possibly a human caffeine tablet in a tactical vest—was stuck in the same room with you, trying to keep you from pushing every glowing button just to see what they did. And especially the part where Valentina Allegra de Fontaine called you two specifically instead of anyone else on the team to do the most absurd thing imaginable mid-mission.

“Don’t touch that,” John barked, not looking up from his datapad. He’d said it four times now. He was practically hitting you in the head with his elbow from how close he was standing to make sure you hadn’t gotten bored and decided to just mess around with something. 

You hovered your finger over the blinking red control switch labeled COOLANT OVERRIDE.  “You don’t even know what this does.” 

“I don’t need to,” he muttered, thumbing through corrupted files. “I know you, and if you touch it, it’s gonna end with us knee-deep in radioactive soup or setting off an old Soviet alarm that wakes up a bear.”

You dropped your hand. “One time, Walker. I trigger one bear one time and suddenly I can’t have a little fun anymore?” In all fairness to which you did not bring up was that it had not just been you who had done it. It was actually you and Yelena discussing what the little symbols meant, she thought bear and you thought maybe a small house dog. You were wrong, and no one died. 

He gave you a look. “You shouldn’t name the bear, either.” You smiled at him and just remembered the look on his face when he walked in to see a bear three times the usual size staring him down. He was trying to kill it, and you were considering maybe keeping it as a pet, 

“Dmitri had a soul.”

He sighed like he’d been aged by this job, by you, by everything. You tapped the tops of your boots on the floor taking your hands away from the buttons you looked up at John. He was reading really intently, his thumb tapping off the back of the device creating the tiniest little noise when the hard piece of his tactical glove hit. Before he could notice you were studying him the comms crackled.

“Hey, so, uh…” It was Val. The two of you immediately made eye contact and listened in. The two of you could tell from her little “uh” that she had been on the phone all day thus far. Which was never good. “We’ve got a situation.”

You and John exchanged a look. Neither of you wanted to talk first so you pointed a finger at him before he shook his head and nudged you with his boot. “What kind of situation?” you asked slowly.

“The kind where CNN’s en route, the press already knows you’re in-country, and Walker’s last mission made him trend for destroying national land with a motorcycle  instead of the enemy. We need positive coverage. Like, immediately.” 

You blinked. He was throwing his hands around ready to respond to her and have a repeat conversation about how he did not know it was national land and that he was just doing what had to be done. But not wanting to hear that conversation you broke the brief silence, “How is that our problem?”

There was a pause on the line but you could still very faintly hear her making little sighs and the fact that she had stopped walking wherever she was headed because the little clacking of her heels stopped. You knew right then she was going to tell you something you did not wanna hear. 

“You’re both hot, you’re both in one piece, and the system’s still down so I can’t even see where the rest of your idiot team is. We’re going with plan D.” Val finally breathed it all out so fast that you barely understood her but you did catch the “you’re both hot” part which you could not fathom was going to go anywhere good. 

John narrowed his eyes looking at you before setting down what actually needed to be worked on because he too could sense this was going to be some shit,  “What’s plan D?”

“You kiss.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

Eye contact seized. 

Even the building, full of ancient rust and creaking pipes, seemed to go quiet. The machines that had been making fuzzy noises were silent. John said nothing for a second. Then: “The hell we do.”

“I’m serious,” Val snapped, now she knew the two of you had heard her and were considering her little plan. That is all a woman like herself needed. “Sell a romance arc. I don’t care if it’s real, fake, or hate-fueled. Make the press eat it up. We need a distraction.” You grabbed onto John's arm and pulled yourself up off the ground because this was way more serious than whatever she originally had you working on. 

You rubbed your forehead and started pacing back and forth, with a slightly raised voice you spat at her, “Val, I swear to God—”

She cut out. 

“Val?” you said again. “Val—”

Nothing. Comms dead.

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the team was losing it.

“We’ve almost got it,” Bucky said through clenched teeth, typing furiously at an old Soviet terminal hooked up to an external power supply Ghost had hotwired together from literal scrap metal. The keys were sticking on and off thanks to the metal of his fingers slamming them so deeply into the board. 

“Are you sure that’s the right port?” Ghost asked, upside down, practically inside the wall. She was hoping anything would work so that there was a possibility of leaving this dingy and smelly place as soon as possible. 

“It’s glowing red,” Alexei said, pointing helpfully. “That seems promising.” He was nodding and absolutely no one in the room was even looking at him.

Yelena threw her hands in the air. “Everything in this place is glowing red! The coffee machine glows red!”

“I told you not to drink from that!” Bucky barked, usually John was the one giving helpful advice or rules such as that but he was too busy running around with you. Which was honestly beneficial, Walker would have already shattered that keyboard into the wall and everyone would have been standing around bored as a team. 

Yelena shrugged. “Too late. I have regrets.” She gagged and fanned at her mouth taking in deep breaths.

“Focus!” Ghost said. “We need visual back before Val loses her entire mind.” Ava nudged into Bucky watching what he was doing to make sure nothing else went wrong.

Alexei leaned over, his piece was the only one that had been working this entire time, which he did not mention, but now he had something fun to say so it would be worth telling on himself, “Pretty sure she already did. She told them to kiss.” 

The others paused in synchronized horror, Buckys hands stopped typing, Ava did not even look backwards at the man who was now belly laughing, and Yelena slowly put her tongue back into her mouth and her hands fell to her sides, 

“…Oh no,” Yelena whispered. “They wouldn’t.”

Bucky’s fingers flew faster, he snapped out of his trance just long enough to get into a rhythm of typing and then slamming the keyboard onto the desk to prevent his earlier issue from happening. “What happened now? What could warrant that?”

“Visual coming online,” Ghost announced, shaking the hell out of the box connected to the computer that was so hot from being overworked that no one else was even willing to touch it.

Bucky smacked the monitor and jiggled it a bit watching as the static would stop and start. Then the static cleared—

And then—

“OH MY GOD,” Alexei shouted, running over to the computer and putting both hands on Bucky’s back. “I—THEY’RE—”

“ARE THEY KISSING?!” Yelena shrieked practically jumping on top of Ava who was frozen in total shock not even caring that Yelena now reeked of what smelled almost like coffee but worse.

Ghost slammed a button. “Recording started.”

“We do not need a recording of this.” Bucky groaned and sat back in the chair that was now sitting straight up and down thanks to Alexei’s weight pushing on the back of it. 

Back in the camera's line of sight, you and John were still standing close together, you had stopped pacing once you realized there was really no getting her back online and that just not doing it was not going to be an option. 

He muttered, for once he was trying to not be rude and just handle the situation for what it was, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

But you? You broke into a grin, an evil and sinister little grin as you now stood toe to toe with him, arms around his neck and hands resting right on the back. He didn’t move a muscle he just stared you down.

“Well, Walker,” you said leaning into him just enough to feel his chest rise and fall against yours. “Ready to be a patriot?”

He touched the side of his head to yours placing two hands on your hips. “You enjoy this way too much.”

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” Before John could again be the one to make the final blow, you pulled your face back from his ear and pulled your arms back so that your hands could grab onto his face. The kiss hit like a switch flipping. His hands moved against your waist instinctively, firm and grounding. You felt the tension in his shoulders melt and re-coil in new, unfamiliar places. His lips were warmer than expected, mouth soft but insistent, the kind of kiss that said we’re doing this, and we’re doing it right. Then of course John took things into his own hands like you knew he eventually would, guiding you back against the cool panel wall. Your hands were going everywhere now. First you curled then into his vest, then up into his hair without thinking, because of course it was soft, and of course he groaned low in his throat when you did it. The angle shifted, deepened—

“OH MY GOD THEY’RE STILL GOING,” Yelena howled, Ava had sensed moved on once she realized that this may only be the beginning of whatever was going on so Lena had a front row seat to the action now. 

“That’s the most American thing I’ve ever seen,” said Alexei, sounding weirdly proud smacking both of Bucky’s shoulders, still choosing to be right behind him instead of his right side which was completely empty. 

“I’m turning this feed off,” Bucky muttered. “I’d call HR if they weren’t the ones insisting they do this.” He scowled, watching in clear view of Walker moving one hand from your waist up your body and into your hair. 

“I’M RECORDING,” Yelena declared, moving the keyboard away from him. 

Val shrieked something about “fireable offenses” and “weddings get 30% off in DC if you use my name.” To the entire group seeing as to how everything for the actual mission was now at a complete standstill. 

And you? You pulled back just an inch, breath warm against John’s jaw, grinning like an idiot.

“That’ll sell it,” you whispered, not moving to push him back or anything to get away from him just staying put. 

He looked at you, expression unreadable.

“…Yeah,” he said after a second. “It will.”

Back at the safehouse, nobody let you live it down. Yelena and Ava brought popcorn to the debrief. Red Guardian reenacted the whole thing with sock puppets for your good friend Bob who could not go on the mission. Bucky tried to avoid any and all conversation or reenactments of the whole thing. Val sent a legal contract titled Thunderbolt Relationship Clause 4B: I Told You So.

And John?

He sat next to you on the old couch, legs spread wide, one arm behind your shoulders—casual, like nothing had changed. Except everything had. You can feel his warmth all of a sudden, you can’t stop thinking about how you could just curl up next to him and cuddle.. Or how you could get in his lap and start kissing him all over again the way he was sitting.  Instead you decided to move closer to him now you were touching side by side. Not saying a word he dropped one arm from behind the couch and sat it around your shoulders. 

“You know,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy, “we might need a... sequel. For the press.”

He turned, slow and deliberate, one brow ticking up. “You talking damage control?”

You shrugged, playing with your own hands, spinning the rings around your fingers as you spoke. “Public morale. National interest. You know. All that patriotic stuff.”

His mouth twitched, but not into a smirk—something softer, more thoughtful, like he was weighing the truth in your joke. Or the lie in it. He was staring at you, watching how just started curling into his side. The way your hands were so unsure of what to do or where to go. 

“We make a good headline,” he said finally, voice rough around the edges as he let out a little cough using the arm that was around your shoulders to dip down and wrap around your waist to pull you up closer to his face. 

You met his gaze, “Then maybe we should give ’em something to write about.”

And this time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t for show. No click of cameras. No orders in your ear. Just the press of his hand against your cheek, warm and certain. Your breath catching as he leaned in—slow, like he wanted you to stop him but knew you wouldn’t. Just the quiet hush of lips meeting, the kind of kiss that didn’t care who watched because no one was.

It was steadier than before. Realer. And when he pulled away, barely an inch, his forehead resting against yours, the world felt... quieter somehow.

Like the mission was done.

Like something else was just beginning.

(Kind of.)

[joaosnovia]

Hiiiii I’ve been waiting sooo long to request from u I looooove ur writing <33

So hear me out luv a Hector Fort long fic (please make it long 8k+) where he’s a popular student and reader is like an unpopular middle class student and she’s kinda bullied for that but Hector starts dating her cuz he loves her but all his friends and people in school start calling her a gold digger and Hector keeps defending her so one day he gifts her a necklace like an expensive one right but she needs money cuz her mom needs meds and her fam aren’t doing well but somehow the popular girl in school that has a crush on Hector finds out and tells him so he thinks reader is actually with him for the money so he fights with her and break up and then later he finds out that she suffered and he regret it when he found her working 2 part time and became always absent in school and got sent to principal cuz she sleeps in class cuz she’s tired from working and make the endings fluffy but please make it angsty like I wanna cry I wanna bawl my lil eyes and heart out (I’m a sucker for angst I litt read sad books all the time)

If you are able to write this I thank u in advance darling <33

Have a great weekend and stay healthy and safe 💙

❦ - unpopular.

summary:: the req.

warnings:: angst but yk that.

writers note:: this took way too long to write but tbf this got requested ages ago and i’d write like once a week but it’s lowkey fun! also there’s a baby ref in this

w/c:: 9k

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli @nngkay

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montserrat academy smelled like money.

not literally, but in that subtle way: clean, polished hallways that echoed too much, perfume lingering in the air even after people had left, crisp uniforms that never seemed to wrinkle, shoes that didn’t scuff, phones without a single crack.

you didn’t belong there. not really.

you’d gotten in on merit, a scholarship, long nights of studying, beating the odds kind of story. your mom cried when you got the acceptance email. your little brother made a paper crown and called you ‘genius queen’ for a week.

but being in didn’t mean being part of.

you sat alone a lot. not because you were a loner, but because lunch tables filled up fast with people who didn’t look twice at you. your clothes weren’t trendy, your shoes were always the same beat-up pair of sneakers, and your accent still carried bits of the neighborhood you came from.

and the others… they noticed.

they didn’t push you or laugh in your face or throw your books across the floor like in those dramatic high school movies. no, it was quieter than that.

it was looking through you when you spoke in class. it was changing the subject when you joined the conversation. it was the way camila once complimented your thrifted bag, and everyone laughed like she’d told a joke.

you weren’t hated. just forgotten. misplaced. tolerated.

but you didn’t come to be liked.

you came to escape.

from the thin walls of your apartment, where you could hear your mom coughing through the night. from the grocery lists that had more crossed-out items than bought ones. from the part-time job you worked after school and on weekends, where your uniform smelled like espresso and burnt toast.

you told yourself that montserrat academy was a ladder.

get good grades. get out. get a future.

so you kept your head down. kept your notebooks full. tuned out the whispers.

until him.

héctor fort didn’t exist in your world. not really. he was the kind of student who was the school. son of someone important. name whispered like legacy. always surrounded. always laughing. not in a loud, obnoxious way, but in that warm, boy next door in a netflix teen show kind of way.

he played football, well. people wore his number on hoodies, not because they were on the team, but because he was the team. he was in all the sports day photos. he was in the group project that won nationals. he was even in the school tour pamphlet they handed to new families.

and he was everywhere.

in the mornings, leaning against his locker. during lunch, surrounded by people who hung on his every word. after class, headphones around his neck, bouncing a ball against his knee like he couldn’t sit still.

you noticed him because everyone did.

he noticed you, and that was the part you didn’t understand.

it started in october.

you were sitting behind the library, your favorite spot, shaded, quiet, full of soft rustling trees and the hum of faraway conversations you didn’t have to join. you liked being alone there. liked how the sun hit your notebook just right, how your soup thermos kept your hands warm.

you were rereading a chapter for literature class when footsteps crunched the leaves.

you didn’t look up right away. people didn’t usually come back here. but then you heard it, the unmistakable, too calm voice:

‘hey.’

you looked up.

héctor.

you blinked, then instinctively checked behind you, half-expecting him to be talking to someone else.

but there was no one.

just you.

‘is this spot taken?’ he asked, nodding toward the patch of grass near you.

you blinked again. ‘uh… no. it’s not.’

he sat. like it was normal. like it was nothing.

you waited for the joke. for someone to pop out with a camera. you waited to wake up.

but he didn’t say anything else. just pulled out a book, your book, actually. same edition, same dog-eared corner you had in yours. and opened it to where the next chapter started.

silence settled.

you told yourself not to read into it. maybe it was a coincidence. maybe he just liked the quiet too.

the next day, he was there again.

and the next.

by friday, he nodded at you like it was a routine. you didn’t even question it anymore. just shifted your bag to give him space and went back to your reading.

you still didn’t talk much. sometimes he’d point out a line in the book and mumble something about it being clever. sometimes you’d make a quiet joke and he’d laugh softly, like he was trying not to make it a big deal.

it wasn’t flirtation. not yet.

it was something else. something slower. something quieter.

and you didn’t understand it. didn’t know why he was choosing this spot when he had all the tables in the courtyard waiting for him. why he started borrowing your highlighters and returning them with smiley faces drawn on the caps. why he lingered a little longer after the bell rang.

but you didn’t ask.

because it felt… safe. and safe wasn’t something you had very often.

one wednesday, he showed up with two drinks.

‘one’s for you,’ he said, handing you a plastic cup with condensation beading down the sides.

you took it cautiously. ‘what is it?’

‘iced cinnamon oat latte,’ he said. ‘the guy at your café said it’s your usual.’

you stared at him.

he just shrugged, a little too casual. ‘i went there this morning. wanted to see if the pastries were as good as you always say.’

you blinked.

‘you went out of your way just to—’

‘they’re mid, by the way,’ he interrupted, sipping his own drink. ‘but this? this is good.’

you smiled, small and stunned.

and he smiled back, like he’d been waiting to see it.

you didn’t know what this was yet.

it wasn’t a relationship. wasn’t friendship, even, not quite.

but it was something. something soft. something beginning.

and even if you didn’t trust it yet… you were starting to hope.

you didn’t plan on him becoming part of your routine.

he just did.

it was subtle at first. like sunlight stretching across your bedroom floor, there before you really noticed, warm before you could name it. héctor started showing up behind the library before you even got there. sometimes with coffee. sometimes with an apple he’d take one bite out of, then forget to finish. always with that calm sort of presence. that ease you envied.

you learned little things.

he bit the inside of his cheek when he was thinking. he had messy handwriting and made his t’s too tall. he hated when people wasted food. he played with his necklace when he was bored. he smiled with one side of his mouth first, like the other had to catch up.

and he asked questions.

soft, curious ones.

‘what do you wanna do after this?’

you looked up from your book.

‘after school, i mean,’ he added. ‘like… life. what’s the plan?’

you shrugged. ‘go to uni. get a job. something stable. maybe sleep more than four hours a night.’

he laughed gently, but his eyes softened.

‘you don’t wanna dream big?’

you looked down. fiddled with the corner of your page.

‘i think surviving is dreaming big,’ you murmured.

he didn’t say anything right away. just nodded, slow, like he got it.

your classmates started noticing before you did.

you could feel the shift. the way people’s eyes followed you when you passed. the way conversations dropped to whispers when you walked into a room. it was subtle, at first. but it grew.

you weren’t invisible anymore. and it didn’t feel like a compliment.

camila started looking at you like you were a stray cat tracking dirt across her marble floors.

‘you and fort,’ she said one day in the hallway, voice sticky sweet, ‘are you, like… a thing?’

you blinked. ‘we’re friends.’

she laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world.

‘right. just checking.’

you didn’t tell héctor. you didn’t want him to feel like he had to defend you. not when things were still… undefined. you didn’t know what he called you when you weren’t around.

but then he asked.

‘do people ever give you shit?’ he said one afternoon, tossing a leaf in the air and catching it.

you paused. ‘what?’

‘about us hanging out.’

you looked at him, quiet.

he sighed. ‘it’s just, someone said something earlier and it pissed me off. they don’t know you. they don’t get it.’

‘get what?’

he blinked. caught your gaze. then shrugged.

‘you’re cool,’ he said simply. ‘you’re real. i like being around you.’

your heart did something weird and fluttery. you hated how easily he made you want to believe him.

‘well,’ you said, trying to keep your voice level, ‘i’m not really used to people liking me for… anything, so. that’s new.’

he looked at you for a second longer than he needed to.

‘they’re idiots if they don’t.’

your shifts at the café got longer. your manager asked you to cover weekends, and you said yes because your mom’s meds weren’t getting cheaper, and you didn’t know how to say no to survival.

you were tired all the time. your eyes stung during lectures. your back hurt from being on your feet too long.

and one friday, héctor showed up at closing.

you didn’t even look up at first, you were too busy restocking sugar packets.

‘hey, stranger.’

your head jerked toward the voice.

him. in sweats. hair damp from practice. a little out of breath like he’d rushed.

‘what are you doing here?’ you asked, blinking.

‘thought you might need company.’

you blinked again. ‘i… i have to mop.’

he grinned. ‘i’m great with mops.’

he wasn’t. he nearly slipped. twice. but he stayed. made you laugh. and when you locked up at the end of the night, he walked you to the bus stop, hands in his hoodie pockets, shoulders brushing yours.

‘thanks,’ you said softly.

he looked at you.

‘for what?’

‘showing up.’

he didn’t answer.

just nudged your hand with his, like he was asking a question without saying anything.

you let your pinky hook around his.

not quite holding hands. not quite nothing, either.

the next week, he brought you a sandwich during break.

‘you didn’t eat at lunch,’ he said, not even looking up from his phone.

you blinked. ‘how’d you—?’

‘you had your sad soup face,’ he shrugged. ‘figured you were tired of leftovers.’

you stared at the sandwich. it had your favorite cheese. the kind you only got when it was on sale.

‘you didn’t have to—’

‘i know,’ he said, finally glancing at you. ‘but i wanted to.’

and that… that was the beginning of the end.

because wanting you?

that was dangerous.

and you were starting to want him back.

by the time december rolled around, everything felt different.

you still woke up early. still packed your brother’s lunch. still worked weekends, still walked to school half-asleep with a thermos in your hands and a hoodie pulled over your ears.

but something in your chest had shifted.

it was the way you checked your phone before anything else, looking for a good morning text with a dumb emoji that never matched the mood. it was the way you stopped bringing soup because héctor always showed up with something better. it was the way his hoodie lived in your backpack now, just in case you needed it.

it was the way he’d learned to say your name like it was something soft.

and the way you stopped flinching when he did.

it was slow, so slow. every step of whatever this was. like he was giving you space to run, even though you didn’t want to anymore.

you hadn’t called it love yet.

not out loud.

but sometimes, when he leaned his head on your shoulder behind the library, when he handed you a drink with your name spelled right and a heart beside it, when he tied your shoe without saying a word and then stood up like it was nothing, you thought, maybe.

maybe.

the first time he asked you to come over, you panicked a little.

‘just a few of us,’ he said, fiddling with the ring on his finger. ‘nothing fancy. we’re watching the barça match. i’ll save you a spot on the couch.’

you hesitated.

you knew what his friends thought of you. knew the names they didn’t say to your face. knew you weren’t the kind of girl they invited to anything.

but you showed up anyway.

your jeans were the only pair you owned without a hole. your hair was in its neatest braid. you brought a bag of chips that cost more than they should have, but you didn’t want to come empty handed.

his house was everything you expected, clean, modern, a little too big for a family of three. his mom smiled politely, offered you juice. his friends barely looked at you.

except camila.

she smiled with teeth. leaned too close to héctor. made comments that danced on the edge of insults, just sharp enough to sting.

but héctor didn’t let you drift.

he kept his knee pressed against yours. he explained the game when you looked confused. he handed you a blanket when it got cold, and when the match ended and his friends were getting ready to leave, he pulled you aside.

‘you okay?’ he asked.

you nodded. too quickly.

he watched you.

‘you don’t have to pretend around me,’ he said, voice low. ‘i notice things too.’

you bit your lip.

‘i’m fine,’ you said. ‘they just… think you could do better.’

his brows pinched, jaw tightening.

‘no,’ he said. ‘they don’t get you. big difference.’

you looked up at him.

he stepped closer.

‘you’re the best part of my day,’ he whispered. ‘they can choke on their opinions.’

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. it burst out, messy and real.

and he looked so pleased with himself.

christmas break was colder than usual.

you worked doubles. your mom’s medicine ran out and insurance wouldn’t cover the new one. the heating in your apartment went out for three days, and you slept in the same bed as your brother, layered in sweatshirts.

you didn’t tell héctor. he was spending the holidays in menorca with his cousins, sending you photos of the beach and dumb santa filters on his face.

you didn’t want to ruin that with your problems.

he texted you the night before new year’s.

hey. can i see you tomorrow? like… actually see you?

you said yes, of course.

he showed up at your building at noon, wearing that navy jacket you liked, a bag in one hand and a little grin tugging at his mouth.

you met him outside, hair still damp from your rushed shower, shoes half-tied.

‘i brought snacks,’ he said. ‘and something else.’

you raised a brow.

he held up a small velvet box.

your stomach dipped.

‘don’t freak out,’ he said quickly. ‘it’s not, like, a thing. i just saw it and thought of you. that’s all.’

you opened it slowly.

inside was a necklace, gold, delicate, a tiny star on a fine chain. barely there, but still beautiful. something that caught the light just right.

‘héctor…’

‘you don’t have to wear it,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘i just… you look up at the sky so much, and it made me think of you. that’s dumb, right?’

you shook your head.

‘no. it’s not dumb.’

he reached out, slow.

‘can i…?’

you nodded.

he fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. you held your breath.

and when he stepped back to look at you, his eyes softened.

‘perfect,’ he said.

you didn’t cry. not then.

but something shifted inside you. something quiet and seismic.

you wore the necklace every day after that.

under your uniform, tucked into your sweater at work. even to sleep. you touched it when you were anxious. let your fingers find the tiny star when you missed him.

you felt… seen.

loved, maybe.

but nothing good stays untouched for long.

camila noticed the necklace two days after school started again.

‘cute,’ she said, twisting her lip. ‘real gold?’

you didn’t answer.

she smirked.

‘must be nice, having a boyfriend with a black card. you’re really playing the long game, huh?’

you froze.

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

she shrugged. ‘just saying. not everyone gets a promotion from barista to princess without putting in work.’

you walked away before your hands could shake.

you didn’t tell héctor.

again.

but you should’ve.

because you were about to need him more than ever.

the first time he said it, i love you, it wasn’t planned.

no candles, no build-up, no carefully picked moment.

it was raining. you were curled up on his bed, wearing his hoodie, socks mismatched. you were both tired, he had practice all morning, you had two shifts back to back, and your eyes kept fluttering shut during the movie playing in the background.

he turned toward you, head on his arm, eyes soft.

you didn’t even notice right away. not until he said it again, this time quieter. slower. more certain.

‘i love you.’

your breath caught.

he didn’t rush to fill the silence. he didn’t take it back or explain it away. just watched you with that look. the one that made you feel like the world wasn’t spinning so fast. like maybe you could stop running and rest for a minute.

you didn’t say it back right away.

you blinked, heart thudding in your chest, and whispered, ‘why?’

he smiled, small, real, almost sad.

‘because you still show up, even when everything tries to tell you not to.’

your throat burned. your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. your eyes stung.

and when you finally said it, i love you too, his shoulders dropped like he’d been holding that breath for weeks.

he didn’t kiss you. not right away.

he just pulled you closer. held you like you were something breakable and sacred at the same time.

like he knew you hadn’t been held like that in a long time.

after that, things got easier.

he called you more. waited outside the café when your shifts ran late. sent you dumb tiktoks and notes in your locker. sometimes he showed up at your place with dinner, stuff your mom liked, stuff your brother would actually eat.

he never made it a big deal.

never made you feel small about needing help.

never made it feel like charity.

just said, you’d do the same for me.

you fell for him a little more every time he said stuff like that.

he called you star girl sometimes. said the necklace made you look like you were born under something magic.

you rolled your eyes at him, but you never took it off.

not even once.

one night, after your shift, you both sat in his car in the parking lot. your feet were killing you, your voice was hoarse, and your eyes burned from staying open too long.

he reached over, took your hand.

‘come away with me this summer,’ he said.

you blinked. ‘what?’

‘somewhere quiet. no pressure. no uniforms. just you and me and maybe the sea.’

you laughed. ‘and how would we afford that?’

‘i’ll figure it out.’

‘you say that like it’s easy.’

he looked at you, serious now. steady.

‘i say it like i want you there. and when i want something, i make it happen.’

you looked away.

no one had ever made room for you like that before. not in plans. not in futures.

you squeezed his hand.

‘okay,’ you whispered. ‘just you and me and the sea.’

he smiled, wide. like you’d given him the world.

you started dreaming again.

tiny dreams.

less tired. more time. a quiet apartment with bookshelves. a degree with your name on it. dinner that wasn’t just toast or soup. a boy with brown eyes and soft hands waiting at the end of every day.

you let yourself believe you could have that.

you let yourself feel safe.

loved.

wanted.

just long enough for it to really hurt when it was taken away.

you noticed the change before it happened.

it started in the eyes. the way he looked at you.

less soft. less sure. less warm.

just for a moment, maybe two. but you felt it. deep, right between your ribs.

you brushed it off at first.

maybe he was tired. school, training, everything piling up. you told yourself you were being paranoid. that old voice in your head, the one that used to whisper they don’t stay, was lying again.

but then the texts got shorter. the calls went unanswered. the lunch spot behind the library sat cold and empty for three days in a row.

and then… the whispering started again.

it was different this time. sharper. louder. less subtle.

someone knew.

you caught it in the hallway.

‘heard she sold the necklace.’

‘seriously? damn. i knew she was in it for the money.’

‘poor thing’s gotta pay rent somehow, i guess.’

your blood ran cold.

you didn’t say anything. didn’t ask. didn’t confront.

you waited for him to bring it up.

but he didn’t.

not until the fourth night you waited for him after your shift, in the freezing cold, with your fingers numb and your chest tight and your backpack too heavy.

his car pulled up late.

he didn’t smile when he saw you.

you slid into the seat, heart already racing. he didn’t kiss your cheek. he didn’t say hey, star girl.

he just drove. quiet. stiff. hands clenched on the wheel.

you didn’t ask until you were two turns away from your apartment.

‘did something happen?’

he didn’t answer right away.

just exhaled. sharp. through his nose.

and then—

‘i heard you pawned it.’

your heart dropped.

‘what?’

‘the necklace.’

your voice cracked. ‘what are you talking about?’

‘camila said—’

‘camila?’ you cut in. ‘you’re listening to camila?’

his jaw tightened. ‘she showed me. a friend of hers works at the shop downtown. said you came in last week.’

your mouth went dry.

you opened it. closed it. opened it again.

because it was true. you had gone. but not to sell it. not to pawn it. you wanted to ask if they could hold it. just in case. if things got worse.

you didn’t do it. you couldn’t.

you still wore it. every day. tucked under your uniform. over your heart.

‘i didn’t sell it,’ you whispered.

he didn’t look at you.

‘you really think i’m using you?’ your voice trembled.

‘i don’t know what to think right now.’

‘you think i’m a gold digger?’

he winced at the word, but didn’t deny it.

you blinked, tears building fast, throat closing.

‘i helped pay for my mom’s medication last week,’ you said, voice barely a breath. ‘we ran out. the insurance wouldn’t cover the new one. she was in pain, héctor. i didn’t tell you because i didn’t wanna make you feel like you had to fix it. because i know you’re not a bank. you’re a person. the person i—’

your voice cracked.

‘—i loved.’

his face crumpled for half a second. but he turned away. again.

‘you should’ve told me,’ he said quietly.

you laughed, a bitter, wet sound.

‘and you should’ve believed me.’

silence.

you looked out the window. hand pressed flat over your chest, where the necklace sat, cold against your skin.

‘pull over,’ you whispered.

‘what?’

‘pull over.’

he did.

you stepped out. shut the door before he could say anything else. started walking.

and he let you go.

you didn’t cry when you got home.

you didn’t cry when your mom asked if you were okay, or when your brother offered you the last piece of bread from dinner.

you cried when you got to your room. when you closed the door. when you sat on your floor, in the dark, and finally unclasped the necklace and held it in your hand.

it glowed a little in the streetlight from your window.

a gift. a promise. a lie?

you didn’t know anymore.

you stopped answering his texts.

you couldn’t look at him in the halls. didn’t go behind the library. didn’t walk past his locker.

he tried. once.

‘can we talk?’

you shook your head. didn’t trust your voice.

he nodded. stepped back.

but he looked wrecked.

and you hated that part of you still wanted to run to him. still wanted him to take it back. to say he was sorry. to say i believe you.

but he didn’t.

not yet.

so you stayed quiet.

and tired.

and alone.

the first night he didn’t come to find you, you couldn’t breathe.

he didn’t text you. didn’t leave a voicemail. didn’t even try to look for you after school. you spent the whole night trying to tell yourself it wasn’t personal. maybe he needed time. maybe he was too ashamed. maybe he just didn’t know what to say.

but the silence echoed. louder than any apology. louder than anything he could’ve said.

you tried to distract yourself. books, homework, scrolling through your phone as if it could ease the ache gnawing at your chest. but nothing worked. nothing could fill the space he left behind.

you found yourself wishing you’d never said it. wishing you could take back those words, the ones that shatteredeverything. wishing that maybe, just maybe, if you had just stayed quiet, everything would’ve been okay.

but you couldn’t go back.

and in the silence, it became real. this wasn’t a misunderstanding. this wasn’t just a fight. this was something bigger. something that felt too heavy to carry.

the pain, his pain, stuck to your ribs. suffocated you. not from the words he said, but from the words he didn’t say.

he never even tried to fix it.

the next day, he didn’t try to find you. he didn’t come to your locker, didn’t sit beside you in class. he walked past you in the hallway, his gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere but toward you.

it stung. the cold indifference. the way he looked like you weren’t even worth a glance anymore. like you were just another girl he used to care about.

he didn't apologize. he didn’t even see you.

he just, walked away.

and you hated yourself for still feeling something.

you tried to keep your distance. tried to push him out of your thoughts. out of your heart. but no matter how many times you told yourself you were better off, you couldn’t shake the image of his eyes. the way they softened when they looked at you. the way he’d whispered “i love you” like he’d meant it.

but that was before.

now, all you had were the remnants of the promises he’d made.

the necklace. the plans. the quiet moments. the love you thought you had.

and it hurt. oh god, it hurt more than you thought anything could.

you kept walking. kept working. kept pretending that it was okay, that you were okay. but every step felt like a betrayal of the love you had given him. the love you’d believed in.

that night, after another shift, you barely made it home before your mom noticed.

‘you look terrible,’ she said. ‘how’s your day?’

you didn’t answer right away. just slid off your jacket and put it on the chair. sat down at the kitchen table.

‘work’s fine,’ you said, your voice shaking despite the effort to sound normal. ‘it’s fine.’

but she wasn’t fooled.

she sat across from you, her eyes narrowing. ‘you know you can talk to me, right?’

you nodded. but the words were stuck in your throat. the words that needed to come out wouldn’t.

because they weren’t just about a fight.

it was about everything.

you stayed quiet. stared down at the table, where the unfinished bowl of soup from earlier sat cold.

‘does he love you, honey?’ she asked, her voice soft, gentle. like she already knew.

the question hit you like a punch to the gut. does he?

you thought you knew the answer.

you thought he did.

but now? it felt like that love had been a fragile illusion.

‘i don’t know,’ you whispered, voice breaking. ‘i really thought he did, mom. i really did.’

the next day, he still didn’t talk to you.

but she did.

camila. the girl who had spread the rumors. the one who’d whispered about you being a gold digger. the one who had poisoned his mind with lies.

she smiled at you like nothing had happened. like she hadn’t been the one to rip the love you had apart with her venomous words.

‘hey,’ she said sweetly, leaning against the lockers like she owned the space. ‘still hanging around him? thought you’d know by now. boys like him don’t stay with girls like you. they never do.’

you didn’t respond. couldn’t.

your stomach twisted, but you didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing you break.

you could feel her eyes on you as you walked away, but you didn’t turn around. you didn’t let her win.

by the time the final bell rang, the weight of the day crushed down on you. the world felt like it was closing in. your chest ached with every breath, your heart heavy, suffocating in the grief you couldn’t shake.

when you got to your locker to grab your things, you found something unexpected.

a small envelope, tucked into the corner of your books.

your hands shook as you opened it. and there, inside, was a note.

it wasn’t from him.

it wasn’t even signed.

just words, scrawled quickly. desperate.

he's sorry. he doesn’t know what to do. he needs you.

you stared at it. your vision blurred, and the sting in your chest deepened.

he needs you. but where was he? where was his apology? where was the man who promised to never leave?

he hadn’t even fought for you.

and the truth cut deeper than anything else.

he was still the same. still too afraid to face the mess he’d made. too scared to fix what was broken between you.

he had let you walk away. had let her win. let her voice drown out his love for you.

you couldn’t stay anymore.

not for him. not for this.

you folded the note carefully and shoved it into your bag. you walked out of the school, the weight of everything pressing on your chest, and didn’t look back.

that night, after another endless shift, you found him waiting for you. he was standing at the end of the street, hands shoved deep in his pockets. eyes wide, searching.

you didn’t stop.

you couldn’t.

and when you walked past him, you heard his voice crack.

‘i love you.’

you didn’t turn around. didn’t say anything. didn’t stop walking.

because love wasn’t enough anymore.

he didn’t sleep that night. couldn’t.

his phone was on his desk, buzzing with texts from friends, but he didn’t care. nothing mattered except the silence between you two. that’s all he could hear now. nothing but the deafening silence, thick with everything he hadn’t said, everything he should’ve said.

he thought about all the moments he could’ve fixed it. all the times he could’ve walked up to you and held you, apologized, and told you the truth. but no. he let his pride get in the way. let his insecurities shape his decisions. and now he was paying for it.

he sat up in his bed, staring at the wall, replaying the fight. hearing your voice break when you said, “you think I’m a gold digger?” like a knife to his chest. he couldn’t shake it.

he thought about all the things you must’ve gone through. about your mom needing medicine. about the struggles you were fighting on your own. and he had been too selfish to see it. too blind to see that you weren’t asking for anything from him except love.

the doorbell rang early in the morning, dragging him from his thoughts. he wasn’t surprised when he saw his mom standing there, her arms crossed, her face full of concern.

‘you look like shit,’ she said bluntly, walking in without waiting for an invitation. ‘what happened?’

‘i fucked up,’ he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. ‘big time.’

‘what’d you do?’ she asked, her voice softer now.

he shook his head, not sure he could explain it. not sure he could tell her that he’d messed up the best thing in his life, that he’d pushed away the only person who had ever really cared about him, really cared.

‘i hurt her,’ he said simply. ‘i hurt the one person who was real with me. and now she’s gone.’

his mom sighed and sat down beside him. ‘i don’t know what you want me to say, Hector. but you can’t change it unless you show her you care. unless you prove that you’re willing to fight for her. words are cheap, son. you’ve got to show her you mean it.’

he swallowed thickly. ‘but what if she doesn’t want to fight for me anymore? what if she’s just... done with me?’

‘then you’ll live with that,’ she said, looking him dead in the eye. ‘but you’ve got to at least try. she’s not a game you can just walk away from. she’s a person. and you’ve got to show her that you see her as that. if you love her, you’ll fight for her, no matter what.’

he nodded, but the weight of the reality set in. could he fix this? or had he already ruined everything beyond repair?

the next day at school was just as empty as the night before. he walked through the halls, trying to act like everything was fine. but every glance, every whisper, reminded him of the mess he’d made. his friends were quieter around him, his old group of popular kids acting like nothing had happened. but he knew better. they weren’t the ones he was fighting for.

he wasn’t even sure they cared about him anymore.

and then he saw you.

you weren’t looking at him. you never looked at him anymore.

you were with your friends, sitting by the lockers, talking quietly, like you didn’t even notice him across the hallway. and he couldn’t help but watch. watch how you smiled at them. how easy it seemed for you to laugh with them, like the last few weeks hadn’t existed. like you hadn’t been in love with him.

but he knew. He knew the truth, and it ate him alive.

his phone buzzed in his pocket. a text from his best friend: ‘yo, you good?’

he didn’t answer.

he couldn’t.

he knew if he answered, it’d be a lie. because he wasn’t good. he wasn’t even close to good.

he was broken. and it was all his fault.

you had to leave early that day. your mom had called, telling you she couldn’t pick up her prescription, and the pharmacy wouldn’t hold it any longer.

you didn’t want to be there. didn’t want to be anywhere near that school, near him. near the empty spaces where his words used to live.

the walk home was long. longer than it usually felt. with each step, you felt the weight of everything. everything that had happened, everything that was falling apart, and everything you had tried so hard to hold together.

and as you walked, you realized something: you missed him. you missed him so fucking much.

you hated yourself for it. because he hadn’t fought for you. he hadn’t cared enough to look for you. to hold you and make it right.

and yet, you were still here, still aching for him, still wondering if things could go back to the way they were before everything fell apart.

the whole situation made you sick. it made you feel small and foolish.

you needed to take a breath. you needed to move on. but every time you told yourself that, you could still feel him. feel his presence, his touch, his words, lingering like a ghost you couldn’t shake.

he didn’t wait long after you left.

he caught up with you on your way home. when you saw him in the distance, you stopped in your tracks, trying to pretend you didn’t feel the same pang in your chest as he got closer.

he was panting, out of breath, his eyes wild like he’d been searching for you for hours.

‘please... talk to me,’ he begged. ‘i can’t just let you walk away from me. not like this.’

you swallowed hard, eyes burning. ‘you already did. you walked away first.’

his hand reached for yours, but you pulled back, too hurt to let him in.

‘i didn’t mean it,’ he said, voice raw, desperate. ‘please. i’m so fucking sorry. you have no idea how much i regret listening to them. to camila... to everyone. i’ve been an idiot. i was scared, okay? i didn’t think someone like you would ever love someone like me. i thought—’

‘you thought what?’ you interrupted, voice trembling. ‘that i was just after your money? that i was just another girl who wanted a piece of your life?’

he winced at the accusation, guilt washing over his face.

‘i’m sorry. i didn’t think. i should’ve trusted you. but i was just so scared that i wasn’t good enough for you. i was scared of losing everything, and i let that fear take over. i let it make me do things i’m not proud of.’

you stood there, feeling like you were holding onto something that was slipping through your fingers.

‘you shouldn’t have been scared,’ you whispered. ‘you should’ve trusted me.’

he nodded, tears gathering in his eyes. ‘i know. i was stupid. but please... please don’t walk away from me. i love you. and i can’t lose you.’

for the first time in days, you met his eyes, and for the first time in days, you felt the faintest trace of something, maybe hope. maybe, just maybe, he still meant it.

but for now, it wasn’t enough.

he didn’t text you after that night.

you didn’t text him either.

and the world stayed still for a while.

it wasn’t silence the way it had been before, cold and final. this was different. quieter, softer. like the space between two people holding their breath, unsure if they’re falling apart or falling back together.

you were tired. tired in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. tired of hoping, of second-guessing, of giving and not knowing what you’d get back.

you still showed up to school. you still worked both jobs. still helped your mom with everything she needed. still carried the weight of a life no one at school ever saw.

and he noticed.

he saw the way your uniform wrinkled more now, like you didn’t have time to care. he saw the dark circles under your eyes. saw the way you zoned out in class, like your body was there but your mind wasn’t. he saw all of it. and it killed him.

because he knew that pain. knew he had a part in it.

and even worse, he knew you wouldn’t let him help anymore.

it was a week after he’d found you on that street when you saw each other again. not just passing glances or accidental run ins. this time, it was real.

you were sitting in the back of the library, curled into a hoodie three sizes too big, your head in your arms, notebook half-filled with messy equations and tired handwriting.

you didn’t hear him approach.

‘you’re gonna burn out,’ he said quietly.

you looked up, blinking slowly. ‘already have.’

he sat down across from you like it was the most natural thing in the world. no drama. no begging. just silence and the low hum of pages turning around you.

‘i’m not here to fix anything,’ he said after a beat. ‘i know i don’t have the right. but i just wanted to sit with you. if you’ll let me.’

you didn’t answer right away.

you should’ve said no. told him to leave. told him that he lost his chance.

but the truth was, you missed him. and you were tired of pretending that you didn’t.

so you shrugged.

‘it’s a free country.’

and he smiled. just barely. just enough to let hope breathe again.

you didn’t talk much that afternoon. he watched you scribble notes. you watched him flip through a textbook he wasn’t really reading. every so often, your knees would bump under the table, and neither of you pulled away.

it was stupid how natural it still felt. how easy it was to fall back into rhythm, even with all the cracks between you.

but neither of you brought up the fight.

not yet.

it was too soon. the wound was still fresh. and you both knew that healing would take more than one soft moment in the library.

still... it was a start.

later that week, he found you in the cafeteria, sitting alone, a half eaten sandwich beside your notebook. your head was resting against your hand, eyes barely open.

he didn’t say anything. just slid into the seat beside you and offered his water bottle.

you took it without a word, too tired to argue, too drained to push him away again.

‘you’re not sleeping,’ he said gently.

you gave him a look. ‘gee, wonder why.’

he looked down, ashamed. ‘i deserve that.’

‘you deserve worse,’ you muttered, but your voice lacked the venom it once had.

he nodded. ‘i know.’

a pause.

and then, softly, too soft:

‘i don’t expect you to forgive me. not yet. maybe not ever. but i just want to show up. for you. however you’ll let me.’

you stared at him for a long moment. longer than you meant to.

‘you can sit,’ you said finally, nodding at the chair across from you. ‘but that’s all. don’t expect anything more.’

he nodded. and he stayed.

and just like that, he became part of your orbit again.

not your boyfriend. not your enemy. just… there.

he started walking you to your classes, just a few steps behind, never pushing. he offered you his jacket when it rained. he kept his distance when you needed space. and sometimes, he didn’t say anything at all.

but he was there.

and that meant something.

not everything. not yet. but something.

because you were still healing.

and healing doesn’t happen in grand gestures or perfect apologies.

sometimes, it’s just someone showing up. again and again. until the silence doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

he knew he had no right to ask for more.

he was lucky you even let him sit beside you. lucky you didn’t spit his name like poison anymore. lucky you didn’t flinch when his hand brushed yours by accident.

he was still tiptoeing around your pain. still watching you fold into yourself every time the world got too loud. still noticing the little things, how you wore the same three hoodies on rotation, how you never touched the food in the cafeteria anymore, how your phone always had a message draft open but never sent.

you were hanging on by threads. and he hated that he used to be one of them, and then chose to cut himself loose.

so he didn’t push. he didn’t beg. he stayed in the quiet with you.

and he noticed things again. like how you never showed up to first period anymore. how you’d started asking to borrow pens because you kept forgetting your own. how your eyes glazed over in the middle of conversations, like your brain just... shut off sometimes.

he asked around, lowkey. your teachers were frustrated. your friends were worried. the front office said you’d been absent a lot.

he didn’t ask why. he already knew.

he figured it out when he passed by the corner store one night, walking home after practice, and saw you inside, half asleep behind the counter, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, eyes barely open. it was past ten.

his heart sank.

he stood there outside the glass door for a while, just watching you ring up a woman’s groceries, nodding politely, smiling weakly. it wasn’t your real smile. it was your i don’t have the energy to exist smile. and he felt like shit for knowing it.

when he finally came in, the bell above the door jingled, and you didn’t even look up.

‘i’m clocking out soon,’ you mumbled, automatically, voice tired and soft.

‘not here to shop,’ he said gently.

your head jerked up like you’d been shocked. and your eyes met his. and you just blinked, like your brain was short-circuiting.

‘why are you here,’ you asked, voice flat.

‘i was walking home,’ he said. ‘and saw you.’

you didn’t answer. just turned back to the register, scanned a pack of gum for a teenager with headphones in.

‘do you always work this late?’ he asked quietly.

you didn’t look at him. didn’t need to.

‘someone has to pay the bills.’

he nodded slowly, like the guilt in his stomach hadn’t just quadrupled.

‘i didn’t know.’

‘you didn’t ask,’ you said simply.

and that hurt worse than if you’d yelled.

when your shift ended, you didn’t expect him to still be there. but he was, leaning against the wall near the exit, arms crossed, eyes soft.

‘you really don’t have to do this,’ you muttered, walking past him.

‘i know,’ he said, falling into step beside you. ‘but i want to.’

you sighed, too tired to argue. and so the two of you walked in silence. your backpack looked heavier than usual. maybe it was. maybe you were just too drained to hide it anymore.

he offered to carry it halfway through.

you said no.

but when your steps started to slow and you winced mid stride, he reached over and took it anyway.

you didn’t stop him.

the walk to your building was quiet, but not uncomfortable. just slow. heavy. like everything between you was still being rebuilt, brick by broken brick.

he paused at your doorstep, holding the bag out to you.

‘i meant it, you know,’ he said.

you looked up.

‘meant what.’

‘when i said i’d show up. no matter what.’

your fingers brushed his when you took the bag back. you didn’t pull away this time.

‘okay,’ you whispered.

just that.

but for him, it was enough to keep going.

because maybe this wasn’t the end. maybe you were still letting him in. inch by inch. breath by breath.

and if there was still space for him, no matter how small, he was gonna stay.

every time.

until you believed he meant it. until you believed you were worth it.

and maybe, just maybe, you’d let him love you again. this time without fear. without conditions. just love.

quiet, steady, and real.

you didn’t mean to fall asleep at school again.

you tried. really. but your eyes had started burning halfway through third period, and your head had gotten heavy, and the warmth of the classroom mixed with the low buzz of the teacher’s voice just… pulled you under. you didn’t even feel it happen.

you woke up to the principal’s voice.

he was standing over you, your name tight in his mouth, like he’d said it more than once. your classmates were staring. the room was too quiet. your face was warm with embarrassment, but your limbs were heavier than shame.

you mumbled an apology and tried to blink yourself back to life, but your head still felt like it was filled with fog. your teacher looked guilty. the principal looked frustrated. and you just felt small.

he asked you to come with him.

you didn’t say anything. you just stood.

you sat across from him in his office, hands in your lap, hoodie sleeves tugged down past your knuckles. you’d been here before. when your absences started stacking. when your grades slipped. when someone reported that you were always nodding off, always running late, always “not quite here.”

he didn’t yell. he wasn’t cruel. he just sighed.

‘this isn’t sustainable,’ he said gently. ‘you’re clearly overwhelmed. your teachers are worried. you’ve changed, and not in the way we like seeing.’

you nodded slowly, unable to argue. because it was true.

‘is everything okay at home?’ he asked.

you hesitated, then nodded again. even though the truth was, not really. but what could he do? what could anyone do?

‘i’m just tired,’ you whispered. ‘that’s all.’

his frown deepened.

you left with a warning and a pass to go lie down in the nurse’s office. you didn’t go. you just sat on the steps outside the building, elbows on your knees, forehead resting on your arms.

you didn’t cry.

not because it didn’t hurt.

but because you didn’t even have the energy to.

hector found you like that.

he was supposed to be at practice. he left early. said he had a stomach ache. he didn’t. he just had a feeling. a gut-wrenching, aching sort of feeling that he needed to find you.

he spotted you from across the quad, folded up into yourself, hair falling forward, body still.

his chest cracked open.

he crossed the space between you like it was instinct. like his legs moved before his brain could catch up.

he sat beside you without asking.

you didn’t look up.

‘i heard,’ he said softly. ‘what happened.’

your voice was barely there. ‘did the whole school?’

‘doesn’t matter.’

you exhaled shakily, but didn’t speak.

‘you wanna talk about it?’

you shook your head.

so he didn’t push.

you sat like that for a while, him beside you, you folded in two, the sky slowly shifting above.

then, out of nowhere, you whispered, ‘i’m trying.’

he turned to you.

‘i know.’

‘i’m trying so hard, hector. and i just… i’m so tired of trying. and still getting nowhere.’

his throat tightened. ‘i see you. i see all of it.’

‘no you don’t,’ you said, finally looking at him, eyes rimmed red. ‘no one does. they all think i’m lazy, or ungrateful, or not trying hard enough. but i’m doing everything. i’m keeping my mom alive, and i’m paying rent, and i’m working every shift they give me, and i’m still failing everything and—’

your voice cracked.

‘—and i don’t know what else to do.’

he didn’t hesitate. he pulled you into him, arms wrapping around you like he’d wanted to since the first moment he messed up.

and you didn’t fight it.

you just sank into him, into the warmth of him, into the steady heartbeat under his hoodie. and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself fall.

‘i’m so sorry,’ he whispered into your hair. ‘for every second you had to feel alone.’

you didn’t say anything.

but your fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve like you didn’t want to let go.

he didn’t leave your side after that.

not for a second.

he helped you with your homework that night. sat beside you on the floor of your living room while your mom rested in the next room. he watched you write your essays, helped quiz you for math, brought you coffee even though you told him not to.

he didn’t care.

he was there.

he texted you in the morning to make sure you woke up. met you outside your first class with breakfast in a paper bag. walked you to work after school. waited outside until your shift ended.

you kept telling him you didn’t need saving.

he kept telling you he wasn’t trying to save you. he just wanted to love you right this time.

and little by little, piece by piece, you started to believe him.

because love doesn’t always come in grand gestures or perfect words.

sometimes it shows up late, with shaking hands and tired hearts.

sometimes it’s soft and quiet and steady.

sometimes, it’s him, carrying your backpack without asking, walking you home in the rain, whispering that he’s proud of you when you finish your homework even though your eyes won’t stay open.

sometimes, love is just showing up.

and this time, he was here to stay.

[theofficialpresidentofmars]

zuko and katara have genuinely SUCH an interesting dynamic and relationship to explore when you don’t have a bitch in your ear trying to tell you they should kiss.

like there’s nothing objectively wrong with shipping zut4ra but i CANNOT find any proper duo content of them that isn’t romantic or romantically implied and it annoys me. no i don’t think they would work. no i don’t think Katara would give up her man for that guy of all people. no I don’t think Zuko would be romantically interested in Katara. yes i do think that reducing all of their feelings towards each other into ‘romance’ oversimplifies and undermines the depth of the platonic relationship that they actually do have in established canon. yes whatever I’m sure there’s something sweet about a boy trying to get a girl to forgive him by helping her get revenge on the guy that killed her mom but don’t you think that it’s actually much more profound if there are no romantic ulterior motives whatsoever and it’s actually just a demonstration of the lengths Zuko will go to because he cares deeply about his friends and their feelings and what they think about him and he wants Katara to like him and he’s genuinely sorry that he broke her trust by warming up to her slightly before betraying them and to make sure she knows that he was being sincere and he actually was touched by what she said he tries to find a way for her to heal a wound that he knows tears her apart and it’s a wound he wishes he could heal in himself. and he does it because he’s trying to earn her forgiveness, not her love. he’s trying to earn himself the right to look her in the eye, not to hold her hand. he’s trying to amend for the mistakes of his people for nothing but the better of others.

and when Katara offers to heal him in the cave, it’s not because she’s fallen head over heels at all, or even in the slightest. she’s the first to see the light in him, and she sees a boy who’s been hurt by the fire nation in a similar way to her. she recognises that if she can convince him to come with her now, the gaang is up by a firebending teacher and a friend at best, and down an enemy at least at worst. for a moment she sees him for who he is and what he’s been through and it’s not because she likes him. the thought doesn’t even cross her mind, it’s just in her nature as a person to be caring and understanding and she has the help she can tell he needs, so she extends a hand.

and when they face Azula together? Katara was the first to reach out when it was almost the right time, and she’s the one who’ll be there to help him see it through. When he takes a bolt for her, isn’t it more profound that he jumps in front of the bolt not out of romantic love, but because Zuko is the kind of person who would put himself in mortal danger for anyone he cared about? Because his heart’s too big and because he’s seen those he love get hurt too many times to stand there and let them take it?

anyway I’ve spent too much of this post refuting romance but not actually expressing what it is i do like about their platonic dynamic but it’s late and i don’t have the words. so i’ll just say it’s such in that it would be really funny if Zuko instead dated Katara’s brother. and they yap together and she gives him a list of interests and he tells her embarrassing date stories. they also yap a lot about Aang because like. Zuko’s bff and Katara’s bf he’d probably come up a lot. also Maiko’s platonic shit-talking exes/close friends dynamic solos their romantic dynamic but that’s a discussion for another day ^-^

ship name censored because I don’t intend for any negativity to actually intrude upon certain shipping spaces lmao. i’m rarely opinionated but i don’t really care tbh i just wish there was more platonic stuff out there or i saw less romantic stuff el oh el

[steddieficrec]

Very Long Fic Recs

(almost as long as Eddie's tongue)

however wild by Ayes, itskleo

(10/10 I 102,215 I Explicit)

Prince Steve has always been told to stay out of the forest. And he does… when he’s awake.

Keep it Steady, Eddie by outofmygourd

(16/16 I 104,812 I Explicit)

Eddie Munson doesn't mind working at the Family Video Store. It's a nice sense of normalcy (not to mention money) and he gets to see Robin more because of it. However, between working together and sharing the same best friend, he's also been seeing a lot more of Steve Harrington.

He wants nothing more than to enjoy mindless fun with his friends now that everything with Vecna is over, but Eddie's finding it hard to move on from what happened. Even if the strangest thing in his life right now was simply the fact he and Steve Harrington might actually be friends.

(if someone asked me at the end) i'd tell them put me back in by Library_of_Gage

(40/40 I 110,024 I Explicit)

Steve is a modern boy dealing with modern problems: existential dread, anger at a world he can't fix, and the inescapable feeling that he'll never be able to name what's missing from his life. And then his parents buy him a house, an alternate dimension in desperate need of help yeets him to the 80s to fix things, and he falls in love with a maybe-murderer-but-not-really metalhead along the way.

Bad Omens by Lihhelsing

(15/15 I 110,320 I Explicit)

In the 80s, Eddie Munson and Corroded Coffin rose to fame under H&H Records management. With two successful albums, the band started their second national tour in 1989 and seemed to be on the path to becoming one of the greatest metal bands of all time. But something went wrong somewhere, and the tour was cut short when Corroded Coffin announced an unexpected hiatus.

No one knows exactly what happened, and the members of the band were radio silent. Until now.

After almost 8 years, Corroded Coffin is back and things seem to be good, or so Eddie Munson hopes, because between making music again and hitting the road knowing very well how the tour life was partially responsible for his breakdown in 1989, he needs things to be good.

And as if things weren't complicated enough, Eddie seemed to think it would be a good idea to invite his ex-boyfriend -and the love of his life– to tour with them, now that child star and famous pop singer Steve Harrington wanted to broaden his musical horizons.

It's like Eddie Munson is asking for something to go wrong as he tries to balance his new tour, his rocky relationship with his ex and the fact that all his past secrets don't seem to want to stay hidden.

Sing if You're Glad to be Gay by VTHX (V_Haley)

(25/25 I 120,520 I Explicit)

Months before Will Byers disappears, Steve Harrington is outed, bullied, and shunned. Eddie would be overjoyed to find another gay kid in Hawkins if it wasn't THAT gay kid.

you remind me of someone (it's probably you) by katdeerly

(15/15 I 136,736 I Mature)

‘I'm sure I'll see you soon no matter what.’

Steve startles. ‘What? Why?’

‘You're marrying my sister, aren't you?’ There's something guarded, almost teasing in Eddie’s tone and when their eyes meet, Steve can’t read the truth. It might be disappointment; it might be hope.

‘Oh, no, no, I'm not – not her fiancé. That was a misunderstanding.’

Take the Money and Run by thisapplepielife

(22/22 I 143,931 I Explicit)

“Rules. Like, there’ll be no eating in my car. You’re not driving my car. No heavy metal,” Steve keeps listing, “you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m-”

“I'll try to control myself,” Eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. Fucking girls in Steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him.

Steve continues, completely ignoring Eddie, “You’ll wipe your feet. You’re not dragging dirt all over my car. No hitchhikers. No cutesy road games. No smoking in the car. I’m not paying for all the gas.”

“Ass, gas or grass, got it,” Eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. He is not taking this seriously.

Or: Road trip!

Money, Power, Glory by StrangerThings1975

(26/26 I 292,494 I Explicit)

Steve starts paying Eddie for sex once he discovers that Eddie doesn't just deal drugs and perform at the Hideout.

(Steve doesn't mean to fall in love with him, but he can’t help himself.)

[jellicle-chants]

Casa Mañana CATS Show Notes

I am seriously so glad I got to see this amazing show in person! I have all of my detailed song-by-song recollections under the cut, but up top I just want to shout out @miasiegert's AMAZING costume and wig work, it was such a pleasure to see the bright colors for myself (and the wigs are just so poofy y'all wouldn't believe). Congrats to the whole cast and crew for making this show come to life, it was really something special.

Before I start, I feel like I need to preface this whole thing by saying that this was my first time seeing Cats live, period, and I also only saw this show once, so if I remember something wrong it's because half the time I was desperately trying to get any actor to make eye contact with me lmao. Also if I don't mention something you're curious about, feel free to drop me an ask or just reply with whatever your question is and I'll try to answer as best as I can! I also still haven't seen all the show footage online, so IDK what's common knowledge or not. I'll put a heading for each section so you can skip around if you want.

Jellicle Songs through Invitation

Sadly, the overture had nothing special going on :(

Jellicle Songs opened with a human worker at the stockyards being watched by the cats as they came onstage one by one, before she "turned off" the lights and left

The singing only started once she left and the lights turned back on after "can you see in the dark," which I thought was a really novel and fun interpretation of the lyrics

Since the cast was limited, Jellylorum sang all of Cassandra's lines, and Jerrie and Teazer picked up the twins' as expected. (They have Jelly listed as "Jellylorum/Cassandra" in the program but it's not a split track or anything, she's just normal Jelly singing Cass' lines)

The "flying trapeze" was replaced by some sort of leather harness(?) on a rope that the actors would stick one foot in and swing on (I have no clue what it actually is but Misto uses it during his song as well. Maybe a stirrup to cat-scale?)

The boot drop was replaced with the railroad crossing light going off, which I was hoping for ever since I saw it before the show

They made the "mystical divinity" section a bit of a national anthem analog, with the actors putting hand over heart and the two big US and Texas flags coming out

Naming went pretty much as expected. I'm not really a fan of when productions overemphasize pointing out who is who and I didn't notice it here, so that was appreciated (although I did think Skimble was Plato for most of the show, so maybe I need it more than I think lol)

Jelly and Gus had a cute moment during "some for the gentlemen, some for the dames" where they did a little bow/curtsy to each other

Victoria's solo was split up among all the girls one by one, starting with her doing an abridged White Cat with a pink cowboy hat

The hat was quickly stolen by Teazer, and they had a little fight over it which Jenny had to break up (loved the bratty vibes of this moment, which was their only big interaction I noticed)

Eventually it got passed along to Demeter, who seemed hesitant to take it, but was urged on by the other girls.

Going into the invitation/Munk's monologue, Raphe played him as serious and dramatic as ever (minus the accent), which was a departure from the other actors who tended to play a bit looser and more relaxed. (Not a slight against anyone of course, it was just interesting to observe.)

Gumbie Cat

Before the song started, Munk got a little distracted with a big spool of rope he was playing with 🥺

The same thing happened with Jenny and one of the hanging string lights on the walkway at the back of the stage during his first verse, which got a big audience laugh

As the trio were getting set up, there was a little (staged) moment where Deme fell over and had to quickly sit back up, which added to the idea that she was supposed to be a new member of the tribe and a little unsure of herself

Jenny's tap costume was SO cute, and she kept the US boots on for the rest of the show, which is a good way to identify her

I was definitely surprised that the cast soft-shoeing in their boots (instead of using tap shoes) was audible from the audience, but it worked like a charm!

Munk and Jenny had a little duet at the end (not quite a tap-off like it used to be, but from what I've seen of the recent Oasis prods Munk doesn't get to tap at all :( so it was nice to have him involved)

The song ended with Jenny going "thanks, y'all!" which I am formally requesting become the button for all non-British versions of the show from now on

The Rum Tum Tugger

The staging and setup of this song was pretty much as normal, but as with all good Tugger stagings, the real gems are from the rest of the cast's reactions

Demeter was very into it and leaned over to tease Misto a couple of times, who was very flustered and kept throwing his hands over his eyes — he delivered the "terrible bore" line like he had something to prove. (I didn't know about the cast headcanon until after the show, but from what I saw, you could read his actions as romantic or "ew Dad, gross" equally easily depending on your preferences.)

Deme almost got a moment with Tugger before Bomba cut in on her

At some point Jenny snuck back onstage to "nap" through the rest of the song

Surprisingly, they didn't go with the overexcited kitten gag — I thought it would've fit great with the setting, but I'm sure they had a good reason to cut it out

Grizabella

Rumpleteazer was the last one of the kittens to approach Grizabella (she was a little more timid, I think she was meant to be one of the youngest) and Griz delivered the first verse of her song directly to her as she was shivering in fear on the ground in front of her. Afterwards, she ran over to hide with her brother — I also saw Jenny huddled over Misto and Victoria

Old Deut made a surprise appearance to lead Griz out with a handkerchief over his hand (which I thought was about the "no touching" thing but he also did it at the end, so I'm a little puzzled about that)

Bomba put her hand on Deme's shoulder for comfort as she was leaving

Bustopher Jones

This song was literally so funny, y'all. They made up for the lack of lyric changes (none of the place names were changed) with a bunch of physical humor and gags that were pitch-perfect to the Texas vibe

Everybody was split up into little groups that each wanted to give Bustopher their food (or at least Jerrie and Teazer, who had the corn dogs, really did)

The first thing he picked up was a Whataburger cup from Munkustrap — for those not in the know, Whataburger has basically the same cultural relevance in Texas as In-n-Out has in California, except you can only get it in-state

I'm so sad I got spoiled about the Real Corn Dogs, because watching him take a bite out of them onstage(!!!) was a thrilling experience

Mungojerrie & Rumpleteazer

The song started started with them coming out from behind the cat wanted posters on either side of the stage and sneaking towards the middle (including a moment where Jerrie stuck only his leg out from behind a post which was a great image)

Their solo costumes (raggedy overalls with a bunch of mismatched patches) were so cute

Behind the low wall at about mid-stage were a couple of trampolines which the actors used to do fun tricks and bounce in time to the music. I get the feeling the actors weren't as acrobatic (or the cowboy costumes/boots didn't allow that) so this was a great way to introduce some big energy to the number in a different way

After getting off the trampoline, they did a bit sitting on the edge of the wall where they stacked their legs threaded over each other (I'm bad at describing it but it's like when you and a friend try to stack your fists/hands alternating between each other)

At the end they pulled out a barrel and laid it on its side — both my sister and I thought they were going to walk around on top of it, but instead they made a seesaw with it which was also fun

The barrel ended up having some kind of illusion from which they pulled two big foam cowboy hats (in Texas colors of course). Honestly I'm still not sure how they pulled it off

Surprisingly, there were no loot bags (I think they were supposed to be more like rascals or kids goofing off and trespassing than actual thieves), so they skipped the playoff entirely

I think this was one of my favorite songs of the whole show. I really like this song when the actors are doing something every beat, and I honestly don't mind big props/gimmicks like these as long as they don't take up the whole song. This version threaded that needle really well and it was a great time!

Old Deuteronomy through the Jellicle Ball

Not much to say about Old Deut's song. I did notice a lyric change to "married nine wives" but I think that seems to be par for new shows post-2019?

After the pre-ball Macavity scare, Misto and Vic were huddled together downstage right and Sillabub downstage left to segue into the Song of the Jellicles

Tugger got the line "Jellicle cats are rather small" because there was no Alonzo, but otherwise I didn't make notes on who got which line

The ball had a lot more partner dancing than usual (no lifts unfortunately), which fit the theme really well! I don't know much square dancing lingo but I definitely saw them do a grand left and right at one point, I'm sure there was a lot more but I was too awed to really be picking things apart lol

They did pantomime tipping cowboy hats (which I hate a lot less than the weird crown pantomime Andy came up with, mostly because it's already a thing in Western dancing)

I think at one brief pause there was a small Skimble/Victoria moment? (This may have contributed a lot to the Plato mixup lmao)

There was a whole section where Old D stepped down and everyone was trying to reach for his handkerchief as he waved it around (and yeah, still don't know what was happening with that whole thing, sorry y'all 😅)

At the end of the ball (I think at the "Ecstasy" cue if you're familiar with Gillian's choreo names) the lights swept up over the audience like a field of stars and it was honestly the most magical moment ever

Memory (first time) through Moments of Happiness

For some reason in my program they have "Grizabella: The Glamour Cat" listed as "Entry of Grizabella" and Glamour Cat moved down to where this first Memory iteration goes, which gave me false hope that they were going to do the Jelly reprise. Very mean >:(

Before Griz came out, Old Deut almost presented Victoria with the pink cowboy hat from the white cat solo (which I think means she was about to be the Choice), but then she saw Griz coming and everyone got scared away

I feel like there was an extra 8 or 16 counts of dancing music for Griz before the song started, during which she did part of the partner dance choreo from the ball by herself :(

They used "silence" instead of "midnight" which I'm so mad about (ALW I'm gonna get my revenge one day just you wait old man)

Korie is such a beautiful singer, like he really fits the role to a T. Very old-school brassy bari/bass voice, a lot like Ken Page

Since there were no twins, Sillabub just got up and sang on her own, but it wasn't that jarring

At the end of the song, Rumpleteazer got a little sad and slid over to snuggle up at Old D's feet

Gus the Theatre Cat

Before you ask, yes, I did cry a little at this song (knowing that Michael had played Gus before back during the first Broadway run made me tear up, ok?)

Before the song started, Jelly gathered all of the kittens in front of her (unfortunately with the way the blocking ended up Gus was right between us and her for a lot of the song, but he had a much bigger stage presence than replica Guses so it wasn't a big loss)

As Jelly was beginning the first verse, Gus came onstage with a guitar, which he fake-played throughout his verses

Munk got to be Gus' friend at the pub, and they had real beer bottle props which was literally the cutest thing ever

During Gus' verses Michael sang with a much more lyrical tone than normal (as in he was really singing, not talk-singing), and the country accent really fit well with his song

At the Firefrorefiddle part Munk came back and handed Gus an actual fiddle, and how has NOBODY done this before??? It was literally so perfect y'all (I don't think the instrumentation was even changed but it just felt like the exact right thing)

I remembered to check back in on the kittens during their little moment, Rumpleteazer was aptly offended/embarrassed

One of the best lyric changes was definitely "in the days when Hank Williams reigned," I have a feeling if they could have changed more they would but alas

Between the end of the normal song and the lead-in to P&P, Gus ate up the applause (there was a lot!) and sang the next verse like it was an encore

Pekes and Pollicles

Not sure if this is as expected, but Gus sang "the awesome battle" instead of awful (and there was the "heathen" to "foreign" change that I've discussed elsewhere)

Before getting into full Rumpus Cat gear, Gus was dressed as a football referee (complete with real working whistle that he used a couple of times). He also did a coin flip during one of the early verses to decide which cornhole team would throw first

Yes, the actors were really playing cornhole onstage, and they were quite good at it too! I assume a lot of practice was involved lol

During the first barking sequence, Rumpleteazer was on her hands and knees playing one of the dogs and literally jumping off the ground barking, it was so silly-looking

Jenny played the police dog, complete with beer bottle. I think she was off to one corner fake-drinking for most of the song

I think the whole Little Tom Pollicle section was cut, including the bagpipes section

When the Rumpus Cat came out, the "dogs" flipped up the cornhole boards to hide behind. I also spotted Jenny as the police dog with a white-knuckle grip on her beer lmao

All in all, it was a very fun version of the song and I didn't even mind so much that it was moved out of its original spot in the show because it was SO goofy silly

Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat

This staging was a little less dynamic than the normal, they made the fake train very early on in the song and then just basically stayed there the whole time. Skimble was bouncing around as normal though

The train's "smokestack" spouted real steam at one point, which was really cool

Misto and Jelly were the card-players, complete with real oversized cards. At one point Skimble stopped to look at both of their hands and swapped some of their cards to complete the game, which I think is just *chef's kiss* perfect characterization for him

Instead of the fake train falling apart at "Skimbleshanks would help them to get out," there was a gag where Jelly was almost falling over and Skimble had to rush over and help her catch her balance

Macavity (scare, song, and fight)

Macavity used a literal lasso to kidnap Old D

This was totally just a personal thing, but I was definitely thrown off at first by the hard-T American pronunciation of Macavity

I can't remember if this happened here or somewhere else, but I feel like I should mention that at one point Bomba slid into a split so smoothly that I didn't even process it was happening until she was all the way down in it 😅

The fight was much different than normal — everyone got in on fighting Mac. I remember Bomba got a big moment getting him in the stomach before he got away

Instead of the jumper cables, Mac swiped at the "Cattlemen" sign and took out all of the lights except the ones that said "Cat"

After the fight, Deme and Bomba took a beat to clean each other off with some casual acrobatics

Magical Mister Mistoffelees

One change I thought was really sweet was at the beginning of the song, the rest of the cast were really disbelieving of Tugger and rolling their eyes at his claims, which I think pairs well with the cast headcanon

For our performance, Misto was not wearing the brown jacket he had in the promo videos — he may have had a black vest on or just his normal chorus outfit, but he still had his sheriff star :)

They had a couple of cans for Misto to knock over as part of his sharpshooting bit, but no squibs or anything onstage

During the "curled up" line, Misto went and cuddled with Vic for a second

There was a moment post-conjuring turns where the actor did a one-handed cartwheel with the toy gun still in his hand and I was just the tiniest bit afraid for his life (he pulled it off though!!!)

Instead of having a volunteer, they just had two people hold an old blanket that they used to cover Old D from one of the wings back to center stage

Misto looked away like he does sometimes after the Old D trick, but sadly they didn't get to hug after :(

During the final chorus Rumpleteazer got back on the trampoline and was bouncing along to the music

Rather than slowly making the spotlight disappear like in some productions, Misto shot it out before making his exit which was a cute touch

Memory (Reprise)

After Munk's monologue, Old D was ready to make Gus the choice, which this time was represented by a spotlight casting a circle on the ground. I was ready to be disappointed about the whole "wrong cat died" situation, but I was pleasantly surprised when Gus stepped back and invited Griz into the spotlight to make her case, it felt like a really good resolution to the issue some people have with that point

Right after Gus gave up the spotlight, he and Jenny had a little mimed conversation where she seemed a little upset/confused at what he did

Jackie did great as Grizabella — you could definitely tell she had played Elphaba in the past too lol

Interestingly, there were a couple of moments where it almost seemed like Skimble would be the first cat to touch Griz after her song, but he ended up backing off so that Vic could give her the pink cowboy hat :)

Journey through Ad-dressing

My sister and I were speculating before the show started where Griz was going to leave the stage (there wasn't a lot of infrastructure up above the stage itself so we were curious), and it ended up being the piece of scaffolding with "Mule Alley" written on it! Totally unexpected

I wish I had caught more of the cast interactions during this song, but I did definitely notice Bomba and Gus arm in arm

Old D was much more lively and light-hearted during The Addressing of Cats than normal (again, really reminding me of Ken Page's Deuteronomy, but even more jovial. I think there's footage of this so if you haven't gone to check it out definitely do!)

Not quite a lyric change, but the address in question was changed to something pronounced more like "aw, cat"

And that's about it for the show! Like I said at the top, feel free to send me asks if there's any part of the show you'd like to know more about! I tried not to assign romantic/platonic designations to any of the pairs throughout the show because it went by much too fast to tell one from the other (which is basically my way of saying go wild with it, y'all — the cast certainly sure have!).

[alexanderwales]

I've heard some people lauding the NATO phonetic alphabet, and am just sort of scratching my head about that.

Like, here were the criteria for words in the alphabet:

Be a live word in each of the three working languages.

Be easily pronounced and recognized by airmen of all languages.

Have good radio transmission and readability characteristics.

Have a similar spelling in at least English, French, and Spanish, and the initial letter must be the letter the word identifies.

Be free from any association with objectionable meanings.

But then you look at what they actually picked and it's like ... okay, you picked a bunch of names? You picked "Whiskey"? On the assumption that what, this is a drink that's common everywhere in the world? That everyone is fine having an alcoholic drink as one of the words? Nowadays I can pull up a global map of whiskey consumption, but that's not something they could do in the 50s, and I would guess that they were not considering e.g. Muslim pilots. (Some places do actually change out "Whiskey" for this reason, along with other regional variants, which are exactly the sort of thing you want in a standard everyone is supposed to be on the same page about.)

And alright, whatever, I think the list is kind of confusingly culturally bound given what the criteria were, but it served its purpose well enough ...

Except that as standards do, it began to be used in other places, including by civilians, and including by civilians when both parties have not agreed on the NATO phonetic alphabet. It would be great if we all had an agreed upon phonetic alphabet that everyone knew, but the fact that some people don't know it makes it a lot worse, particularly if you're on a customer service call, and particularly if you're on a customer service call with someone who is not a native English speaker and who was not raised in the same cultural context that the NATO phonetic alphabet assumes.

If you, like me, love terrible quality PDFs, then some helpful soul made a FOIA request for "The Evolution and Rationale of ICAO Spelling Alphabet", and you can read it. This is a fun read for me, because it's not just concerned with the phonetic alphabet, but the history of it, and in one case they're just like "welp, we have been completely unsuccessful in locating this file". And I'm sitting here in 2024 reading a ratty PDF of a file from 1959, thinking "yup, that's how it is sometimes, they do all that work making a report and then no one fucking preserves it".

(Most of the document is about whether they would use the US-UK version or the ICAO version, and then some modifications and why they were made, and this is all interesting, but I'm kind of still scratching my head about some of these, especially given what they say the criteria were. "An international alphabet designed to fit the multilingual requirements of all nations"? Maybe they really thought that's what they were doing in the 1950s.)

Anyway, this isn't to say that I think we need a new, better phonetic alphabet, just that I think the current one is not actually the pinnacle of standards that some people seem to think it is, and in fact, it contains a lot of baggage from the time and place it was made. Further, it's being used in places well outside the environment it was made for, and unless everyone is trained in it (and maybe even if they are) some of the deficiencies get magnified.

[anathemaspeaks]

can i please get fluff number 13, "delete that! i look disgusting." and 14, "your flirting is so bad it's adorable." with gojo 😁

here you go 🫶

requests are open! (please request stuff)

check out my prompt list.

you stood in front of satoru, arms flailing around comically, trying to jump up and reach the phone in his hand. you never stood a chance. he just stayed in the same position, an arm lazily outstretched above his head, eyes filled with glee and laughs escaping his throat at your futile attempts at capturing his phone from him.

"delete that! i look disgusting" you demanded, thoroughly annoyed by his antics, hair messy, with both of you standing on top of your bed.

"disgusting? i happen to think this is your best picture yet!" he said, eyes filled with mirth, mocking your current helpless state, the wide grin on his face ever-present.

"gojo satoru-"

"not the full government name" he gasped, seemingly offended. drama queen.

the picture of you was downright horrendous. you were napping, mouth wide open, a little bit of drool on the side, head on your pillow with your hair as wild as a bird's nest. and click! he took a picture, being the spectacular friend he is.

but ever the dumbass, the shutter sound woke you up, which brought you to your current predicament.

you tried to reach up again, only this time, you lost your balance and landed right into his toned chest, causing you both to topple down onto your plush bed, with you falling on top of him. red from both the intimacy and frustration, you were still trying your hardest to retrieve his phone.

"that picture is a national threat" you reasoned, trying to convince him, looking into his eyes.

"national treasure, you mean?" he asked with a small smirk, eyes boring into yours. oh. they're really blue. now mere inches away from him, with you straddling his body with your own, you realized he was blushing, light pink dusting his cheeks.

"oh, so you want it because you want me, huh?" you teased. what you weren't expecting was for him to blush even more, now completely flustered.

"n-no!" he started, eyes shifting away from yours, the cocky demeanor from a minute ago now gone. "it's just for blackmail, because-"

"aw, your flirting is so bad it's adorable" you interrupted, catching your tongue when you realized what you just said. he paused.

"adorable, huh?" he looked into your eyes again, cocky smirk reappearing. shit. now you were the one blushing and avoiding his ardent stare.

the air had changed all too quickly, the witty comeback dying on your tongue at the sheer intensity of his gaze. you let out a meek "maybe," and that was all the confirmation he needed.

he tiled his chin, fingers lightly grazing your jaw and pulling you closer, noses almost touching. you could feel his teasing smile, the glint in his eyes shifting from playfulness to fondness and uncertainty, searching yours for permission.

you leaned down, and his mouth captured yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. warmth flooded through your body, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his lips on yours. you moved your hands into his hair, only breaking apart when you both were breathless, matching soft smiles on both of your flushed faces.

he tucked a strand your hair behind your ear gently, before letting his hand rest on your cheek with an unfamiliar shyness in his eyes.

"i should blackmail you more often" he quipped, breaking the silence, the stupidly handsome smirk back on his face.

"shut up" you mumbled, rolling your eyes. a smile tugged at your lips nevertheless.

"make me" he replied, voice deep and smooth, already leaning up to capture your lips in another kiss.

sorry this is bad 😭

likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated <3

[lovely-p-issues]

I have this fanfiction idea for times when my English will become acceptable: (it was in my drafts for months and tbh if I didn't post it today like this, with mistakes and stupid parts, I wouldn't have posted it at all, so, sorry ig)

Book 1: The war

How it all started

Let's make Azulon not madly-evil, but just regular-size-evil: he didn't plan to kill Zuko, because it's a stupid idea to get rid of your possible heir, he just wanted to take a son from Ozai - so he decided to make Zuko Iroh's heir, de facto making him Iroh's son (let's not focus on formality, just assume that you can switch your fathers if you are highborn enough)

(Zuko's life isn't in danger, so Ursa doesn't kill Azulon and he'll be ruling at least to the end of that book)

It may seem a great idea (especially in comparison with killing Zuko) but we can't forget that Iroh just lost a son and is still in grief, absolutely not ready to take care of another kid. He still needs to learn how to find a new path and calm his spirit and now he needs to do it with Zuko around him.

Iroh decides to take Zuko with him for his journey - Azulon approves this, seeing his son (and heir) needs to learn how to live after losing Lu Ten and thinking that Iroh may finally teach Zuko some actual fire bending

"I do not want to want to leave, Azula. I'm sorry, little sister."

"Whatever, Zuzu. At least you won't be distracting me from my lessons. Finally, something good comes from this whole fuss around you."

(In fact, she's not happy. Not at all)

______

At this point, Iroh is not yet the nice old man you know from ATLA. He's a broken man, trying to find a purpose in his life, triggered by Zuko's alikeness to Lu Ten and tired of being imposed on things like taking care of a teenager.

He's not Ozai, he's not cruel or even just bad, he just can't force himself to care.

They don't really talk, only sometimes to establish a plan for their further journey. The worst moments are when Iroh calls Zuko Lu Ten's name and then suddenly stops, looking at him in shock. After that kind of incidents, they stay silent for days.

Zuko starts to blame himself for being, well, alive, when his much better cousin is dead. He convinces himself it would be better if he died and Lu Ten lived.

Zuko spends most of his time alone. He hates making Iroh sad and upset so he chooses to stay away. He doesn't know what this all thing with White Lotus, he just likes the idea of his uncle/formal-dad having friends.

Yet, they travel all around the world and for the first time in his life Zuko sees what sharing progress and civilization by Fire Nation looks like. And he doesn't like that.

He's still loyal to his family, so he doesn't believe that his grandfather knows what is happening.

He decides that he needs to make a proper report (soul of writer, ya know).

He makes notes and talks with people, even if he hates how awkward it is. He believes that it's necessary to help them.

I think it's a wonderful idea to see Zuko interviewing - I mean, investigating-

Zuko's raport list - random traders complaining about the difficulty of staying afloat, - migrants who are fleeing war or have lost their homes to fighting, prisoners of war (this doesn't go down too well, thank goodness Zuko is still a kid and his passion seems adorable so no one kills him), - strange ladies in nice outfits who are paid by horrible men for no one knows what, - malnourished scarred soldiers of the Fire Nation, - children of the Earth Kingdom who teach him their stupid game (once he understood the rules, it wasn't THAT stupid, but still), - crazy old ladies, who won't stop pinching his cheeks, - a young girl with a scar on her face who didn't want to tell him much, but Zuko knew what accidental burns looked like and this wasn't one of them, - a group of artists whose theatre burned down after they refused to perform plays approved by the Fire Nation authorities, - a mother who asks him if he knows what happened to her son who was an earth bender and one day. .. just didn't come home

But we all know that Zuko always prefered to act than think. Pretty often Sometimes he disappears for a night. With him disappears an old, theatre mask.

Son came home and left with his mom. Someone left some gold for the soldiers to buy food. Someone bought the most useless things from traders. Someone left burn ointment made by someone who must have grown up surrounded by fire, on the doorstep of the poor girl. And many other, strange things happened.

Of course no one suspects anything or anyone. Trust me. Not a single soul.

______

Zuko is still training but can't even be angry enough to make a big fire. He's just frustrated and that makes him choke with smoke more than anything.

But with every other day, he feels worse. He gets letters from Azula who started to receive more attention from their mother since Zuko was away. When Ozai's influence is limited, she becomes a little more normal. She's still sharp as a knife and dangerous, but feeling loved by both her parents (even if Oazi is more focused on trying to control her and transform her into a weapon) decreases her psychopathic behaviour.

"Mom asked me to take care of your stupid turtle ducks, dum dum"

She thinks he will be happy hearing that she spends time with their mom, and Zuko, honestly, is happy. It's just-

"Am I even still her son since I'm Uncle Iroh's heir?"

-where is his place now?

For the first time in days, he feels an actual rage. And just like this, his fire bending becomes hundreds of times better, even unhinged and dangerous.

Iroh sees this while coming back from meditation (or whatever) and in a second feels that something is wrong.

He reaches out to Zuko, offering him some advice and lessons, but Zuko, a 13-year-old, harmfully lonely and practically neglected at this point prince, can't hold back anymore:

"YOU WANT TO TEACH ME AFTER MONTHS OF IGNORING ME? YOU'RE JUST LIKE FATHER, HE LOOKS AT US ONLY WHEN WE ARE ABOVE EVERYONE ELSE! WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME WHEN I COULD NOT HOLD A LITTLE FLAME IN MY HANDS? I DON'T NEED YOUR STUPID ADVICE NOW! YOU WEREN'T THAT WISE WHEN YOU LOST BA SING SE AND GOT LU TEN KILLED"

Iroh sters at him calmly for a few seconds.

"You are right. I wasn't. I'm trying to do better. If you change your mind about training, you know where to find me."

Zuko comes to his Uncle by night.

They don't really train. They drink tea instead.

And it becomes a habit.

After a few days, they start to actually train.

They need to breathe a lot. It's too much for Zuko, but Iroh is rather stubborn about this one.

After a few weeks, for the first time in his life, Zuko feels that fire bending is soothing and just pleasant. It feels like home.

It can't last forever. Of course.

______

They stayed for a long time in the Earth Kingdom. One day Zuko sees Ba Sing Se and vast fields of previous battles, trampled, dry land and piles of burnt bodies.

It's not the work of some mad general or bunch of scared soldiers fighting for their lives. It's his chubby nice tea-loving uncle's work. This is not an accident, an accidental casualty of war. They are the pride of the Fire Nation. This is their honour. This is their civilisation and progress.

That's what his family is doing to the world. Purposely.

Something is breaking inside him. Thoughts of mourning for Lu Ten. No one has ever mentioned all those bodies, the people who died here too. His uncle, his good uncle, his father, the pride of his Nation, only cried over his son. He never even hesitated to burn to a crisp anyone who defended his home. Against them.

Zuko isn't very smart, as we know. He screams a lot at Iroh. And then he leaves.

He thinks to himself, that Lu Ten, who actually fought in those battles would understand that it was wrong. But Lu Ten would also know what to do about it.

He wanders for days, trying to avoid people, untill

He crushes into something.

"Why are you running, flame-boy? Your pants are on fire?" *wild laugh*

And this is how Prince Zuko met Lady Toph Beifong.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter AU Crossover ideas. ADA Edition

Previous posts: [I] [II ] [IV] [V] [VI] [VII] [VIII] [IX]

🐯 Turns out, Nakajima Atsushi's ability had an interesting quirk. It makes tigers see Atsushi as one of them. Moreover, Atsushi is viewed as the dominant tiger. So, Atsushi can command tigers. He will order Rishboland Tigers to attack people, that hunt you down during Imposter Hunt. Will also bring you Rishboland Tigers cubs to play and cuddle.

📒 Kunikida Doppo will always stay near you. He will take care of you and insists on following the schedule. It actually helps you, because, you didn't have a peaceful routine when you were in Teyvat.

🩺 Yosano using her ability, so captured people of Teyvat can be punished again and again. She helps others during questioning.

Always near you, checking your health. Will buy you pretty clothes.

🌨️ Junchirou Tanizaki will use his ability to slowly drew people, who hunted you insane. Will create special illusions for you (favorite place, person). Will cook anything you want.

👩🏻 Naomi Tanizaki will be a spy. Will gather intel on 'Creator', on Teyvat people. Will keep you company, bringing gossip.

🍵 Kirako Haruno will be another spy. Will make you green tea.

🛏️ Turns out, Tayama Katai's ability works on Ruin machines of Khaenri'ah and King Deshret's mechanisms. Katai will make them attack capitals. It actually makes Teyvat people question the power of 'Creator'. If they can be overpowered by 'Imposter's' follower, are they really all-powerful?

🐄 Kenji Miyazawa is kept away from Teyvat. There is a possibility, that he will go on a rampage the moment he got there. Instead, he stays near you. He Will offer to do some gardening together.

🐰 Kyouka Izumi is also staying close to you. She is waiting for the right time to strike. She will ask Kouyou and Verlaine for more combat lessons. 

🕵🏻 Ranpo Edogawa makes a name for himself in Teyvat. After he became famous as a detective, he will start framing people. He will frame Ninguang for tax invasion, Kamisato siblings for slavery and Childe for murder.

Watch mystery TV series with you. Will share his candies with you. Will try to make you smile.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa Yukichi became full-time bodyguard for you. Will drink tea with you and play with tiger cubs Atsushi brought. If needed, Fukuzawa will become an assassin again.

🪢🦀 Dazai Osamu is using all his intelligence to destroy Teyvat nations. He is planning to choke 'Creator' with his own hands. 

He will stay close to you. Dazai will tell you jokes, will cuddle with you and do anything he can, to make you smile.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms

[funsize-mermaid]

We went to a ✨Fancy✨ ‘Chinese’ Wedding

— I want to list down some ‘Culture Shocks’ as a first time goer to a Chinese Wedding

• CHURCH GOERS - Both friends namin yung couple na kinasal, so we really did make an effort to attend the Church Wedding at 10am sa Manila Cathedral, only to find out na its like only 1/8 of the guest list and andon. So apparently, Chinese people don’t usually attend the Church Wedding because they are all busy running their businesses in Binondo/168 Mall/Divisoria and they cannot afford to lose their sales for that day.

• TIME FRAME - We were not informed until the last minute na ang kasal ay 11am-1pm then ang reception ay 7pm pa! Usually diba sa Filipino weddings, after Church, straight na sa reception. All of the Chinese Weddings daw ay ganyan since almost all of the guests were all businessmen, kaya need pa nila mag close ng shop by 5pm then mag prepare for the reception HAHAHA. Kaya…… nakapag National Museum kami nang mga naka gown HAHAHAHAHA forda tambay.

• ATTIRE - As I’ve said, it is a fancy wedding. Probably the most expensive wedding so far that I attended to. But Chinese people doesn’t follow the dresscode that the Bride and Groom indicated on the invitation. In short, OVER DRESSED KAMI! Some guests ay wearing tshirts, sweatshirts, pants, casual clothes. To mention ah, there were 500 guests in this wedding. I even took off my accessories to lessen the formality of my outfit. Grabe. Pero the Bride, kinausap naman nya kami na to follow nalang yung dresscode kasi she wants na makita kami on a ‘uniform’ sa kasal nya and also para maganda din kami tignan sa photos.

• FOOD - Hindi pala uso sakanila ang Buffet. Everything was served like a 10-course meal sa fine dining restaurants. HAHAHAH minsan di pa namin ubos yung food, kukunin na kasi iseserve na yung next dish. Kaya ang bilis makabusog. Also, the food were sooo great lalo na yung nga seafoods.

• HENNESSY - It’s my first time tasting a 16k-worth of Alcohol. And its free! As in pwede namin iuwi. Kasi every table has 1 box of that alcohol. Jusko. There were 50 tables (12pax each table) sa event. Imagine the gastosssssss. Also its a tradition sa Chinese Wedding na dapat meron daw talagang expensive drink per table for the guests.

• WEDDING GIFTS - So according sa isa pa naming Chinese friend na kasama, lowest gifts na narereceive ng Chinese Couples ay worth 10-15k. Hahaha na shookt kami. Buti nalang pinoy kami. Char HAHAHAHA wala po akong 10-15k na ipang reregalo HAHAHAAHA 🫠

• DOWRY - So apparently nalaman namin na if ikaw ang ‘match maker’ ng newly weds, you will receive a monetary gift/dowry dahil ikaw ang naka pag reto sa isat isa HAHAHA kaya palaaaa… every week may dinedate tong friend ko na mga reto ng mga uncle and auntie nya. 🤣

• LEFT-OVER CULTURE - Sa Chinese pala if ang babae ay umabot ng 30years old nang hindi kinakasal, ang tawag sakanila ay ‘Left-Over Woman’. We are already in our late 20s kaya madaling madali na parents ni Bride na makasal sya.

—————————

Takeaway in this event? Napaka interesting to know other culture’s traditions. I was honored to attend one. Super saya. Makikita and macocompare mo talaga yung differences sa traditions natin. Also, my close friend, the Bride, she waited this for too long. Ilang blind dates ang sinet up sakanya to find the right one. And now, ayan kasal na sya. I’m so happy to her full of joy and love para sa husband nya. ✨💖

[proximasc0rner]

Hatchetverse theory/headcanon: the lords in black are monsters of our own creation.

So. In a previous post, I mentioned that the LiB might have ages in that they're born of some kind of evil, with Wiggly being the oldest "sin" for lack of a better word. And I think I like that idea the more I think about it! So, just for fun, I'm making a list of them from oldest to youngest:

Wiggly - Wrath. I- I think this one is kinda self explanatory I mean his name is LITERALLY Wiggog Y'Wrath what else do you want from me here- but in all seriousness, I think it fits. The oldest evils humans have known have existed because of wrath. The desire to hurt others due to a sense of justice or entitlement, or even just because one was having a bad day and needed to take it out on someone. Tale as old as time.

Nibbly - Nibbly. Where to start with you. I don't want to go with the basic-ass "gluttony" thing, sooooo... I think with Nibbly, it's more abstract than that. Humans don't just hunger for food-- they hunger for power. Power over themselves, power over some others, or, god forbid, power over entire groups and nations. Hunger for the prize. Hunger for fulfillment. I think we see this demonstrated really nicely in Honey Queen! But yeah, I think this abstract "hunger" is also something primal, like wrath. I wouldn't be surprised if Nibbly and Wiggly came into existence at the same time, but Wiggly just kinda took over.

Tinky - Sadism. YES I AM ONCE AGAIN GOING FOR THE EASY CHOICE SUE ME. Anyhoo, I personally think that Tinky came into existence with the first real atrocity. Not murder over an argument. Not an act of desperation. Just an act of cruelty for cruelty's sake. Sometimes I wonder why I like him so much. WHATEVER I BELIEVE IN BASTARD OF TIME AND SPACE SUPREMACY.

Blinky - This one was tough, but I think I got a semi-satisfying answer (for me anyway): I think Blinky represents the evil that is being a bystander. Like, someone commits a great evil and destroys someone's life in front of a crowd, and all the people just... watch it happen. They don't step in or intervene. They simply allow this evil individual to keep being evil, thereby becoming accomplices in that way. Again, wouldn't be surprised if Tinky and Blinky were twins, because I think atrocities and bystanders unfortunately go hand in hand.

Pokey - Exhibitionism! No wonder he's the youngest-- while vanity and desperately trying to gain the approval of others has been a thing for a very long time, I think that once better forms of communication and presenting yourself to the world (cough cough the internet cough cough) is when things really would've taken off. Everyone wants their voice to be the loudest. Everyone wants to be a star. So everyone puts on a show for everyone else as they desperately try to claw their way to the top.

But yeah. That's my idea of it. The lords in black are a threat, and we've got nobody but ourselves to blame.

[rabbitcruiser]

National Reptile Awareness Day

Every October 21 is National Reptile Awareness Day. Godzilla. Reptar. Yoshi. The Geico Gecko. Those two lizards that always hang out around your back porch. These are just a few of the famous reptiles we love. But on October 21, we celebrate all of our cold-blooded friends. This day is observed to educate and raise awareness of  threats to the natural habitats that our reptilian companions rely on to survive.

History of National Reptile Awareness Day

While the history of reptiles may go hundreds of millions of years back, National Reptile Awareness Day has an unfortunately short history in comparison. Additionally, it wasn’t really until 1966 when the first Endangered Species Act was passed that awareness of the needs and threats facing reptiles (or any animal, for that matter) started to make its way into our cultural mainstream. 

With the passing of that act, a mid-century push toward conservation started taking the forefront. Updates were passed in 1967 and 1969. Additionally, in 1967, the Environmental Defense Fund created their historical efforts to ban DDT from usage in the United States. Much of this was movement was sparked by Rachel Carson’s seminal book, Silent Spring, which documented the adverse effects pesticides and other chemicals have on the environment. 

National Reptile Awareness Day wouldn’t exist without the efforts of that movement. In fact, many reptiles wouldn’t be around today without the help of the Endangered Species Act. While National Reptile Awareness Day may have a small history compared to its subjects, its still part of a historically important movement to help protect and conserve all species of animals.

National Reptile Awareness Day timeline

315 million years ago

Prehistoric Reptiles Evolve

Reptiles are considered to have evolved from amphibians around this time. While many have perished along the way due to mass extinction, many (such as crocodiles and sea turtles) still remain

66 million years ago

The End of the Reptilian Era

The end of "The Age of Reptiles," a period of time where dinosaurs and other massive reptiles roamed around as if it were Jurassic Park. This began "The Age of Mammals," while, despite the name, reptilian species continued to diversify and thrive but at a much, much, much smaller size. 

1978

The Loggerhead is Listed

The loggerhead sea turtle, one of the more famous reptiles, is listed as endangered, mostly due to bycatch in fishing gear but also because of loss of nesting habitats. 

1987

See Ya Later, Alligator

The American alligator is officially removed from the protected species list, making a remarkable comeback from near extinction after spending twenty years on the list.

National Reptile Awareness Day FAQs

When is National Reptile Awareness Day?

National Reptile Awareness Day is every year on October 21. 

How do I celebrate National Reptile Awareness Day?

There are many ways to celebrate National Reptile Awareness Day, such as donating to a reptile conservation, visiting a national park, or learning to identify reptiles. 

Is a turtle a reptile?

The placement of turtles within the reptile kingdom has historically been up for debate, but so far they are still considered to be reptiles.  

National Reptile Awareness Day Activities

Donate to a reptile conservation programThere are a lot of different organizations that want to continue educating the public about our reptilian friends. One way they do this is by also advocating for us to have the ability to keep reptiles as pets. Donate to your favorite organization to help them continue being the voice for reptiles.

Visit a National ParkRegardless of what part of the country you live in, reptiles play a major part in your ecosystem. By visiting your nearest national park, you're helping promote a place that is dedicated to preserving the natural habitats for all animals that live in that area - including, of course, the reptiles. Some notably reptilian parks are Joshua Tree, Big Bend, and the Everglades.

Identify a reptile (or two, or three)Consumer science is an important part of helping researchers understand where our cold-blooded friends live and their population densities. Many identification apps are created by institutions to help draw in that data. If you see a lizard or other reptile, use an app to ID it. This helps scientists understand where certain populations live and how well they're adapting among us. The Audubon Reptiles & Amphibians app is a great place to start.

Why We Love National Reptile Awareness Day

Their body armor: Reptiles are known for having thick skin, literally. Their armored body is made up of scales or boney plates (yes, some have their bones on the outside) to protect them from the daily wear and tear. How cool is that?!

Lizards, turtles, and snakes, oh my!: Because some of the most awesome characters/creatures on TV, or in the films we watch, are reptiles. They are sometimes dramatized to be huge and scary, like Godzilla, and other times are hilarious, like the Geico Gecko.

They make the best pets: No backyard to have a dog? No problem! Most reptiles can be kept indoors in naturally adorned tanks. They are easily maintained and make for an educational experience for kids learning about the environment.

Source

National Reptile Day

Not every person can look at a boa constrictor named Barbara or a toad named Frank and think lovable thoughts. However, National Reptile Day is the perfect day for the squeamish and admirers alike to appreciate the role these creatures play in our ecosystem. We celebrate these reptiles on October 21 — where fans take the time to educate others about habitat loss, conservation programs, and the importance of keeping reptiles off the endangered list. Below we share what you can do to celebrate this holiday — even from a distance.

National Reptile Day timeline

​400 BC

The beginning of recording reptiles

​The methodological study of reptiles dates back to the time of philosophers Aristotle and Pliny.

​1852

A prehistoric discovery was made ​

​Traces of the oldest known reptile, called the Hylonomus lyelli, were discovered in a fossilized tree stump in Nova Scotia.

​1998

​Saving the Galapagos

Ecuador enacted the Galapagos Special law, to create the Galapagos Marine Reserve and protect the island wildlife (including the Galapagos Tortoise), manage fisheries, and inspect quarantine measures.

National Reptile Day Activities

Reacquaint yourself with reptiles: Spend some time holding and interacting with reptiles — perhaps at a pet shop — where snakes, frogs, or lizards are just a short car ride away.

Donate to a conservation program: Contribute to programs designated to protecting endangered species. Many reptiles are still hunted for their use in leather or to meet consumer demands. In several regions, this type of hunting is a big problem due to the role most reptiles play in their specific ecosystems.

Read about reptiles: Spend a day at the library researching and learning new things about reptiles. You may even find your future pet in the process.

​5 Quirks Only Reptiles Could Have

​The Fantastic Four​: There are four orders of species: the Crocodilia (crocodiles, alligators, etc.), the Tuatara (lizard-like), the Squamata, (includes lizards and snakes), and the Testudines (turtles, tortoises, and terrapins).

​Baby it's cold inside​: The majority of all reptiles are considered ectothermic, meaning they rely on their environments to regulate their internal body temperature, reproductive health, immune system functioning, and daily stamina.

​Larger than Life: One of the largest reptiles on record is the salt water crocodile, which can measure over twelve feet long and weigh more than a thousand pounds.

​Circle of life: ​All reptiles play an important function in their ecosystem; for example, lizards control insects and pests in homes and gardens, while snakes keep rodents under control in urban life and in the countryside.

Survival! The way reptiles adapt to their environments allows them to create defensive behaviors in fights, to reproduce, hunt for their food, or anticipate a dangerous situation.

Why We Love National Reptile Day

A time to love our pets: Reptile owners get a special day to appreciate their best friends every year with this holiday. This day allows us to treat our buddies and give some never-ending love and care!

A day to relax with some reps: For those of us who don’t own a reptile, but are curious, this holiday allows us to take time to observe them in their natural element. For those who are very nervous or scared of anything slithery, this is the perfect day to face those fears.

We expand our knowledge: Taking the time to learn about these different species allows us to appreciate the environment we both share. This day is perfect to teach children about animals and nature.

Source

[wanderingblindly]

hi liquid i have a very strange ask beware

my friend asked me to make a powerpoint presentation to explain the basics of F1 (like rules, race weekend schedule, etc.) when i asked if she wanted me to include a list of all the 2025 drivers, she said “yes, i need to know name, age, nationality, and which other driver they have a homoerotic relationship with”.

and now i’m spiralling because like which ones do i tell her about?! because obviously there are endless rpf ships between the drivers, but in terms of drivers being actually incredibly weird around each other in real life?? i’m thinking brocedes (obvs) but not sure which other relationships i should analyze for her entertainment.

basically if you have any suggestions i would love to hear them thank you in advance ❤️❤️

HELLO I really wanted to go through and find individual clips but if I’m honest — the state of My City has been hell and it’s taken more out of me than I thought. I hope this is an adequate response even though it’s not up to my usual (neurotic) snuff :(

Ok so obviously there are a million ships, but I think there are two main categories: those who are compelling based predominantly on Lore™️, and those based around their F1 behavior specifically.

For the Lore, the obvious choices are:

1. Brocedes

There’s so much here…. Nico’s inability to eat anything but their favorite cereal before the deciding race of 2016. The theme of yellow in their helmets (started in karting, Nico ditched the yellow when their relationship when sour, Lewis has retuned to the yellow now that he’s left the team where they fell apart). The story of them on keke’s yacht, promising to make it to f1 together. Them sneaking out for ice cream ((Nico’s wife now having a vegan ice cream brand.)). You could analyze this for years. Years.

2. Lestappen

Though all these fuckers have raced each other for ages, Charles and Max are weird in how often their paths intersected despite not always racing in the same category. One that specifically comes to mind is Max recommending Charles for the seat that he left open when he moved up the ranks; this vocal awareness of and respect for his craft is brought up often when people show them racing wheel to wheel.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the second category, too:

1. Maxiel

it’s objectively INSANE how often Max and Daniel joked about making out. Like at some point — AT SOME POINT — you have to wonder why they’re both so comfortable with that bit, right? Beyond their weird behavior, their dynamic is extra interesting when you consider that Daniel was Max’s first Red Bull teammate: he was almost too young for f1, a bit socially odd, terrifyingly talented, and yet here’s this gregarious man that laughs at everything he says (yet has to remain wary of his threatened career)…. Formative experience.

2. Carlando

This one fascinates me threefold. First of all, there’s their online history. Baby baby baby Lando was constantly in Carlos’s comments and mentions as he moved up through the ranks — he clearly idolized him. To the second point: baby rookie Lando has him as his fucking teammate. Young and naïve, giggly and infatuated Lando got so close with Carlos so quickly, it’s almost nauseating. And then after they were no longer teammates!!!! Carlos is still one of the first people he seeks out to celebrate with (Singapore 2023 hug, forever famous,,,) he goes out to dinner with his FAMILY (Mexican gp 2024,,,,), it’s insane.

They’re clearly still so connected to each other despite no longer having any formal ties — they can’t break their orbit. (Also, why did we stop talking about Brazil 2023 when they rented a house together and everyone’s pretty sure they cheated either with each other or the same model????? Hilarious)

3. Landoscar

This one is fun to analyze for the progression and the new dynamic it presents. Lando’s always been the junior teammate despite being the number one driver — and he acted accordingly. But now he’s in a leadership position after a weird inter-term implosion, and it’s just Some Guy??????? But the way they warm up to each other, the way Oscar starts to understand how to read Lando during their PR videos, THE HESITANCY AND DELICACY OF ONE OF THEIR FIRST TOUCHES (Silverstone fan stage 2023), the way that they allude to their private interactions without ever actually showing them????????

They’re infatuating to analyze in the same way that a Victorian romance is — the details are so small and drawn out that it makes everything feel heightened, scandalous.

4. Piarles

The TRUE childhood friends to lovers angle is criminally underrated in this fandom; we get an approximation from so many of the drivers, since they all grew up racing, but Charles and Pierre went on family vacations together. Pierre calls Charles nicknames that no one else does. He constantly brings him up in interviews, they’re always gossiping before races, they hang out at private events in the off season!!!!!!!

It’s further compelled, I think, when you consider the different level of notoriety they have. Pierre is often out of the spotlight, he has nowhere near the cult following that Charles has garnered. When it comes to someone you’ve known and loved your entire life, how do you deal with that, you know????

[warmrevolver]

Thank you for the tag @unchaineddaisychain your answer for ‘Dream?’ was SO reallll and well-worded, made me really deep my own answer lol >_<

————————

Nicknames?

Ollie (although it’s just my name atp since no one calls me by my full name)

Real name?

I go by my middle name- Olimpia!

Zodiac?

Sagittarius (December if that makes a difference)

Favourite artists?

The Beatles, Paul Mccartney, John Lennon, Wings, The Smiths, Panic! At The Disco, The Young Veins, Blink-182, Three Days Grace, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance

Favourite sports team?

The Argentina national football team if that counts lol

Other blogs?

Haven’t got any but have considered branching out so I can shitpost more freely

Do you get asks?

Nope but would love some!! I don’t think I’ve been on Tumblr long enough to get them

How many blogs do you follow?

20! Once again, I haven’t been on Tumblr for a long time lol

Tumblr crushes?

@unchaineddaisychain for her coolness, insanely good writing and great music taste that I love stealing ^_^

Lucky number?

7 and 18

What are you wearing right now?

violet sanrio pyjamas lol

Dream vacation?

My usual go-to answers are Italy and New York but secretly I would kill to visit Forks, Washington and the Hobbiton movie set in New Zealand because I’m a NERD

Dream?

To have the freedom to do what I love always, both in my personal life and in my career- I’ve always been career driven and would love to secure a job in publishing and have the time and money to continue studying and pursuing my passions in life.

Dream car?

I know fuck all about cars but I like the look of vintage chevy mustangs. I’ve always dreamt of having a motorcycle so I never really considered cars lol

Favourite food?

As always, Lithuanian kebabs- I could cry thinking about how good they are sighhh

Drink of choice?

I’m a big caffeine addict so you’ll usually find me drinking an Iced Vanilla Berry Redbull (the best flavour)

For a fancier option I LOVE Strawberry matcha with coconut milk but it’s a once-in-a-while treat in this economy…

Instruments?

I know a TINY bit of guitar, I would love to pick it up again but the idea of it sounds much better than the reality- I always end up frustrated lol

Languages?

English and Lithuanian

Celebrity crushes?

Now hold on cause we could be here all day with this list…

John Lennon my one and true beloved <3

Paul Mccartney (my side chick), Ryan Ross, Brendon Urie, Viggo Mortensen, Angelina Jolie, Keira Knightley, Henry Cavill, Ashley Greene, Nina Dobrev, Gerard Way, Johnny Depp, Regé-Jean Page, Norman Reedus

I’ll shut up now but trust me this list is endless

Random fact?

I’ve seen Twilight so many times I can ‘watch’ the movies in my head. If I ever finish an exam early and have time I need to kill, I’ll put my head down and ‘watch’ the first Twilight lol

————————

Tagging! @angelicabr @fishfingerpies @watermonstah

[poutysprouty]

THIRST TRAPS FROM THE UNDERWORLD

masterlist

TRACK: KOSO

Stage Name: Koso Birth Name: Choso Kamo Position(s): Vocalist, Lead Dancer Height: 178 cm (5'10") Nationality: Japanese Representative Emoji: 🩸 Fun Facts: - Soft-spoken and lowkey, but has one of the strongest vocal ranges in the group. - Famous for his ethereal dance solos that fans describe as “hauntingly beautiful.” - Keeps a sketchbook on him at all times. Sometimes gives doodles to fans at signings. - Collects antique poetry books. - Has never lost a staring contest with Sugi. Or anyone. Ever.

Demon Idol!Choso who isn’t the type to make dramatic entrances, doesn’t try to be seen. He walks in quietly, hair messy, sleeves pushed up, eyes unreadable. Most people don’t even notice he’s there until he says something.

Demon Idol!Choso who starts every morning by washing his hands in cold water and whispering a new name. The others never ask whose. He burns incense while sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, tracing old blood-seals. He doesn’t pray, he doesn’t believe he has the right, but he still hopes.

Demon Idol!Choso who doesn’t eat much, doesn’t sleep much, doesn’t speak unless he has to. But he listens. He hears everything. He remembers every lyric Suguru mutters in frustration. Every time Satoru laughs too loud to cover his pain. Every breath Sukuna takes when he’s restraining his power. Choso is the glue that holds V4NTABLCK together.

Demon Idol!Choso who keeps a journal full of sketches: soft, surreal drawings of the boys, Tokyo rooftops, the sky over Hell, faces of humans he doomed. He doesn’t show anyone. Once, Satoru flipped through it while Choso was asleep and left a doodle on the last page: a smiley face with sunglasses, labeled “your #1 fan.” Choso didn’t erase it. He just turned the page and kept drawing.

Demon Idol!Choso who views blood the way other people view music. It tells him everything. Fear, joy, lies. It’s all written in the way veins flutter and hearts skip. It’s why he doesn’t touch people. And why when he does, it feels like he’s making a vow. Like he’s memorizing someone’s entire story in a heartbeat.

Demon Idol!Choso who doesn’t actually like fighting. But he will. When demons attack, he becomes something else entirely. He isn’t showy, but he’s lethal. Once, a demon tried to possess a fan outside their hotel. Choso was the only one there. It didn’t make it past the first scream.

Demon Idol!Choso who sometimes sleeps in the practice room, curled beneath the piano with his hoodie pulled over his face. He says it’s quieter there. But really, it’s because the dark reminds him of the cave he sealed himself in for the first few years after betraying the underworld. He still dreams of it sometimes. Not the pain, but the silence. And how empty it felt.

Demon Idol!Choso who is closest to Suguru. Not because they talk much, but because they understand each other’s silences. They’ve stood side-by-side in battle, shared blood pacts, stitched each other up without a word.

Demon Idol!Choso who is wary of cameras. Of strangers. Of fame. But when he performs, something takes over. His movements are hypnotic, slow and sensual, like smoke twisting through the air. The crowd doesn’t scream for him the way they do for Satoru or Sukuna, but they watch him. And when he leaves the stage, his ears still ring from the screams.

Demon Idol!Choso who doesn’t care about the survival show. “I don’t need more distractions,” he says flatly when Nanami brings it up. But he doesn’t refuse. Because if Suguru says it might be useful, and if Sukuna’s starting to pace again, and if Satoru’s grin is just a little too tight, he’ll go. Even if it makes his skin itch with anxiety.

Demon Idol!Choso who studies the contestant list alone in the rooftop garden. Most voices don’t linger. But then hers plays. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Just listens.

Demon Idol!Choso who plays the video again. He watches her closely. And something inside him, something ancient and forgotten, whispers, I’ve heard that voice before.

Demon Idol!Choso who finds Suguru that night. “She’s not normal,” he says quietly. Suguru nods. “I know.” Choso doesn’t ask what any of it means.

Demon Idol!Choso who doesn’t speak much the next few days. He just listens to Luna’s voice on repeat. The others tease him, even Satoru. Doesn’t deny it. Because for the first time in centuries, he feels something that isn’t pain, rage, or guilt. He feels hope.

[catcherinthe-ry]

Dripping Honey

Pairings: Danny x reader

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving) use of hands, like one line about masturbation, 18+ only minors dni!!! , talk of stress/ anxiety

Author’s Note: hello! I have never ever posted or even written anything of this caliber before, but Jooty Nation saw it first & encouraged me to post! Please enjoy :)

(Also yes I did add a Taylor Swift reference in here iykyk)

There are several things you love about being a teacher. Really, there are- you get to be the only smiling face some of your students see all day; you get to share in their excitement when they finally master the concept of long division; you get invited to dance recitals, baseball games, cheer competitions, and theater performances; and above all, you get to build a little family every school year with the children who walk through your door. Because of these things, most of the time, you absolutely love your job. There are just some things that occasionally make it hard to remember why you’re there.

For example, today. It’s the first day back for teachers before students enter the building next week to start a brand new school year, and you walked into your classroom expecting to see your furniture piled neatly where it had been left in May, meticulously labeled with your name and room number. Instead, you walked into a relative shit show- your furniture is spread around the room; desks don’t match; you’re missing a lamp, a bookshelf, and a stepstool; and all of your bulletin boards have been sprayed with wax from the floors sometime during the summer months, meaning you were going to have to take all four of them down and start from scratch. And to top it all off, a dead rat had been waxed to your floor.

With a sigh, you had set your things down and gone to the faculty meeting, spending the better part of the morning in your school’s cafeteria listening to your admin go over staffing and schedule changes, making a list of all the things you needed to do before you left for the day and made it back home, wishing your boyfriend would be there but knowing he was out of town. When you finally made it back to your room, it had taken the rest of your contracted time to hunt down the missing items from your room and return the things that didn’t belong to you to their rightful owners; you weren’t sure what the floor crews had been thinking when they put things away after waxing the floors, but it definitely wasn’t about putting things back where they actually belonged.

Which is why, when you walked through your door after a long first day back, you dropped your gym shoes by the door and immediately face planted into your couch, groaning your frustrations into a pillow and fighting the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t notice the bag sitting by your kitchen island, or the pair of lowtop Nike Blazers sitting next to your Birkenstocks by the door. You only realized something was off when you heard the soft sound of footsteps coming from your bedroom, and peeked up to catch a glance of your favorite set of curls before scrambling up off the couch and launching yourself at your boyfriend.

Danny laughed, your favorite sound in the world, and picked you up by the backs of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He spun you around gently in a circle before setting you back safely on the ground, leaning down to hold your face between his palms and giving you a soft kiss before you bury your head in his chest once again. “Hi, honey,” came his muffled voice from where he had his head atop yours, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Is it safe to say you’re surprised?”

“Daniel Wagner, you weren’t supposed to be home for another week!” you say, looking up into his pretty hazel eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Danny guides you to sit down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table and moving your legs to where they’re laid over his lap, his arm around your shoulders and left hand playing with the cartilage piercings on your left ear; an endearing habit you’ve come to learn he doesn’t realize he’s doing most of the time.

Though your drummer has his own ears pierced, he’s been taken with your piercings since you met in Nashville a year ago. It shocked Danny that an elementary school teacher could have 12 visible piercings in your ears and nose, and now he enjoys helping you pick out new jewelry for your constellation piercings and will pick up fun earrings for your first holes while he’s out on tour, sending pictures of planet earrings that “will be so perfect for your space unit,” or mushroom earrings “because your students need to see what a fungi you are. Get it?” (You got it, you just didn’t want to encourage his terrible joke. You did love the earrings, though.)

Danny gently runs his hand up and down your shin, rousing you from your thoughts and bringing your attention back to the question at hand- what was he doing here?

“We have a couple days off between shows, and I know I said I was going to just hang out with the guys instead of flying back here, but I know how stressful this week is for you every year, plus they all wanted to spend a few days in their own beds, too. We caught an early flight this morning and packed weekender bags, so I’m all yours for the next 3 days, honey!” His small smile broke into a full grin, and Danny spread his arms wide, taking a sarcastic little half bow while sitting next to you.

You feel your eyes well up with tears anew, taken aback by your boyfriend’s selflessness and the magnitude of your love for him. He frowns slightly, pulling you in to nuzzle into his side and rubbing your arms up and down comfortingly. “What’s wrong, honey? Don’t cry, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, “I’m just really thankful for you and I love you a lot. You have no idea how stressed I was today, and I don’t know how I’m going to get my classroom ready in time for Back to School Night on Wednesday, and I missed you so much, and I had to spend all day in meetings and moving furniture by myself and I’m only 5’5” and-” you hiccupped, feeling yourself getting stressed once again as Danny wiped the tears from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and pulled you into his chest.

“Don’t be sorry, honey,” he said softly, rocking you both back and forth as you had moved to sit on his lap, legs crossed behind his waist and head on his shoulder. He traced soft circles into your back before pushing you away slightly to brush the hair out of your face and look you in the eyes. “Tomorrow, after your meetings, I’ll come to school and help you move and set up whatever you need to set up. We’ll work until midnight, if we have to, and I’ll order pizza and we can put Star Wars or true crime or the Great British Baking Show onto your SmartBoard, and we’ll get everything done before Wednesday, I promise. But tonight, let’s take a bath, and eat the pasta I made for dinner, and lay down so you can relax before you go back tomorrow, okay? How does that sound?”

You nod your head, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips and running your hand over the back of his curls. When you part, you rest your forehead against his, placing a peck on his beautiful nose and closing your eyes to just breathe him in, this closeness that you’ve been missing since the start of the tour and unexpectedly get to bask in. “Thank you,” you whisper into the space between your mouths, each breath mingling together. “I love you.”

Danny places another kiss to your lips, lifting you off his lap and leading you to the kitchen by your hand. “I love you, more,” he says.

As you finish dinner and put the dishes into the dishwasher, you hear the faucet turn on from the direction Danny had wandered off in. You place the last dish into the rack and start the wash cycle, padding into the bathroom to find your boyfriend on his knees, testing the temperature of the water with his hand and pouring your favorite lavender epsom salt beneath the surface of the running water. Leaning against the counter behind him, you take the opportunity to study his bare frame; his hair is unruly and has been tucked into a bun on the top of his head, curls springing out from the bottom due to his recent hair cut. His shoulders are broad, muscles rippling with every movement and his arms are bigger than they were when you first met. You feel yourself grow damp just admiring his profile, love and lust swirling in your chest and tummy and creating an almost delirious yearning within you.

Danny turns, a lopsided smile on that mouth that you love so much, and shuts the water off before moving to stand in front of you. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the view, honey, but I think you’re going to enjoy this bath much more.”

You roll your eyes, skimming your hands along his sides and feeling him shiver slightly beneath the scratch of your nails. “I don’t know,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes. “There isn’t a whole lot I enjoy more than getting to see you naked.”

Danny flicks your nose gently, pulling at the hem of your top to remove it before moving onto your jeans, pulling them off one leg at a time. You don’t miss the way his eyes flare as he struggles a bit to get them past your ass. You place your hands on his shoulders as you step out of your pants, underwear gone with them, and he tosses the jeans to the laundry basket in the corner before softly pushing you to step into the tub. Closing your eyes, you sink beneath the surface of the water, and let out a deep breath you were unaware you had been holding. The temperature was perfect; “boiling alive degrees,” as Danny liked to say, but nevertheless you feel him sink into the tub behind you, hissing a bit as the water hits his skin and pulling you into him so that your back is flush with his chest.

You sit that way for a bit, Danny humming softly and speaking about everything and nothing. It had been almost three weeks since you had seen each other, and your drummer had endless tales from the road of the Kiszka brothers’ shenanigans and fan encounters. He washed your hair for you as you told him about your half of the time apart, how you had gone to see your family a few states away and finished two more books towards your reading goal for the year.

“And then, before one show, they brought a bunch of puppies for us to play with! Did you see that video? They were so cute, even though Jake acted like he had never pet a dog before in his life.” Danny laughed.

You giggled along with him, settling back into his chest once again and sighing. Your need for him had not been satiated, and now, after hearing his voice and his laugh, you felt like you would crawl out of your skin if you couldn’t touch him in some way. Thankfully, Danny’s thoughts seemed to align with your own, and within seconds you felt his hand inch down from your hair to your neck, moving the soaked strands away so that he could place an open-mouthed kiss to the skin between your neck and shoulder blade. Your eyes flutter shut and you let out a small whimper, going to trail your hand up his thigh when his own halts you. Frowning, you turn your head towards him with a question in your eyes.

“Let me take care of you tonight, honey,” Danny says, trailing his hands lower to cup your breasts in his palms. “You worked so hard today, and I know you’re stressed. My sweet, hardworking girl, my good girl; you gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Yes, Danny, please,” you whimper, arching your back so that your chest meets his hands. His fingers, rough from years of gripping his drumsticks and beating on his drums like his life depended on it, find the bars of your nipple piercings and tug. You bite your lip, writhing beneath his touch as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I am still in awe of these,” he says in a voice an octave lower than normal, his own arousal evident in the timbre of his words and the hardness you feel against your back. “Can’t believe such a sweet girl has such a dirty, sexy little secret she hides from the world.” He gives another flick to the little sword shaped bars through your nipples, pausing his words to run his nose along the column of your neck and tug the lobe of your ear between his teeth. “You’re only a dirty girl for me, though, right honey?”

You nod feverishly, earning yourself a pinch to the inside of your thigh.

“Words, honey, you know that by now. Who are you a filthy girl for, hm? Who’s the only one that gets to see these little secrets-” he pulls gently again at your pierced tits for emphasis- “and all your soft, pink places?”

You aren’t sure if you’re shivering from the rapidly cooling water temperature or the feelings Danny is evoking in you, but you answer anyways, teeth chattering, “You, Danny, baby, only you.”

Abruptly Danny stands behind you, tugging your body up with his and pulling the plug so that the water drains from the tub. He grabs a towel from the hook on the wall, first drying off your body and then his own. He wastes no time in picking you up by the waist and setting you on the bathroom counter, standing between your legs and stealing your breath away with a kiss.

“What do you want, honey?” he asks in between kisses. “My hands, my mouth, my cock?”

He’s teasing and you both know it, know that he’s stolen your voice with the way his mouth is sucking bruises onto the tops of your breasts and his fingers drumming a beat against the inside of your thigh. If you didn’t know your boyfriend, you might say the tapping of his fingers so close to where you needed him most was absentminded; and if your boyfriend didn’t know you, he might think you were squirming because of the deep purple mark being left right above one of your nipples. You both knew the other like the backs of your hands, though, which means he knew he was working you up with the way both his mouth and hands moved in tandem, and you knew he was drumming into you with purpose.

A whine escapes your throat, every one of your senses flooded with Danny, Danny, Danny. His name was the only thought in your head, just the way he liked it. “Sweet girl, are you already thoughtless?” he teased. “Just give me one word, honey, and it’s yours. Tell me what you want, and I’ll hang the fuckin’ moon for you if that’s what leaves those perfect lips of yours.”

“Y-your mouth, baby,” you almost cry. “I want your mouth.”

Danny’s eyes grow impossibly dark, and his hands grip bruisingly hard onto your hips, scooting you so that half your ass is hanging off the bathroom counter. One massive hand creeps up to circle your throat, tilting your chin up with his thumb and applying just enough pressure to have you open your eyes, unaware that they had even closed in the first place.

“I told you I’d hang the fuckin’ moon for you, and I will, honey; but only if you ask the right way. Be my sweet honey girl and beg for it.”

You knew what he wanted; you’re a few months older than your drummer, enough to have put a year between you in school (which you learned shortly after meeting him) and you have both a Bachelor’s degree and a Master’s degree in Educational fields. Danny graduated high school and immediately dedicated his time to the band, practicing, performing, traveling, and living that dream. He loves the fact that, despite you being older (even if it’s by less than 10 months) and ‘more educated’, you follow his directions when it comes to intimacy. He wants to be in control and guide you, make you beg and grovel for the feeling that only he can give you; and beg you will for even just a taste of the drug that is Daniel Wagner.

“Please, sir. Put your mouth on me, fuck me with your tongue, make my pussy cry from the feeling. Please, only you can make me feel so fucking good I forget my own name, Daddy.” To add to the effect, you bat your eyelashes sweetly and reach out to skim your thumbnail over his nipple. You needn’t have bothered; Danny’s eyes flashed and he crushed your mouth to his in an instant, immediately dominating the kiss by forcing his tongue into your mouth and twisting his fingers into your wet hair. He gave your strands a tug, exposing the bare skin of your jugular to his little fangs and scraping his teeth over the vein before biting down gently.

“My honey girl wants my mouth? She wants me to make that sweet little cunt cry? Oh baby, don’t you worry; I’ll eat you so good. My favorite fuckin’ dessert.”

No sooner had the filthy words left his mouth than did he sink to his knees, spreading your legs even wider and throwing your calves over his shoulders. He pressed the tip of his nose into your center, inhaling deeply as your hands come to rest atop his head and take a light hold into his curls. Danny looks up at you, grinning like a devil from between your legs and sending you a wink before diving in.

Your head hits the mirror when he licks a long strip straight up the center of your pussy, gathering every drop of arousal that had gathered between your legs. “God damn, honey, all this for me?” he asks, nudging your clit with the tip of his nose. God, that nose. You could write an epic poem about that nose and the things it does between your thighs.

You feel a sharp sting on the inside of your left thigh and yelp, glancing down to see Daniel licking over the skin to soothe his bite. “I asked you a question, y/n. Is. This. For. Me?”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, it’s all for you, only for you. Nobody else, God, please just touch me!” You whine, chest heaving with the intensity of your need for him. Danny takes pity on you, shushing your cries with a kiss and making you jump when you feel the pad of his thumb circling your puffy clit once, twice, three times. You keen, moaning into his mouth and grasping onto his shoulders as you grind yourself onto his hand. Every time Danny touches you is like a fever; you feel fire spreading through your body and reach a peak wherever his touch meets your skin. Even if you knew it meant being burned alive, you wanted to bask in that fire, that heat, for the rest of your life.

“Okay, honey girl, okay,” Danny shushes, once again trailing his lips down your neck, your sternum, your belly, and settling onto his knees in front of you. “You’ve been so good, baby. So good. Daddy’s gonna give his honey girl what she deserves.”

You could cry with relief when you feel the tip of his tongue meet your swollen clit, burying your hands into his hair not so gently this time and grinding yourself onto his face. He gives you the softest kitten licks before traveling down to push his tongue towards your entrance, effectively fucking you with the heavenly muscle before travelling back up to your clit. Danny resurfaces only to talk to you in the way that he knows you adore, the way that only he can, pushing one thick finger into you as he does. “That’s it, y/n, use my mouth. Daddy told you he would give you what you want, but my dirty girl is so determined to take it herself. Jesus, fuck, honey, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You ready for another?”

You nod your head rapidly, still bucking your hips to ride his hand. “Shit, Danny, baby, I’m so close, can I come? Please, daddy, I’ve been your good girl, please make me come-” you cut yourself off as you feel a tear slip down your cheek. Your body feels like it’s on fire and that knot inside your belly is dangerously close to snapping. You do your best to hold yourself together, especially as Danny slips another finger into you and curls them just right to hit that spot within your body that nobody, no previous partners nor even yourself, could seem to find. Danny found it within minutes of your first time together, and has never failed to make you see stars by hitting it each time since.

“Give it to me, honey girl,” your drummer says, adding that sinful tongue of his to the wildfire that is between your thighs. “Come on my tongue.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With a strangled cry of “oh, fuuuuck, Daniel.” your high came crashing over you in a tidal wave, the current of it pulling you under again and again as Danny licked you through it.

When you finally pulled yourself out of your orgasmic haze, Danny was stroking his own cock furiously. You had no energy to protest and watched, chest heaving, as he came by his own hand, his head thrown back and a soft “fuck,” leaving his lips.

Standing, your drummer cleans first himself off with the used towel, then walks to the linen closet and picks out a clean washcloth, running it under warm water and cleaning between your legs as well. You stick your bottom lip out when he pecks you on the nose, pouting.

“What’s wrong, honey girl?” Danny asks with his eyebrows furrowed.

You kiss the palm of his hand as it cups your cheek. “Why didn’t you let me help you come, too? I wanted to make you feel good, baby.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, the guilt at being so wrapped up in your own pleasure you failed to make your sweet boyfriend feel the same way eating at you.

Danny placed a soft kiss on your forehead, scooping you into his arms and carrying you into your shared bedroom. He placed you on your feet, making sure your legs were steady, before padding to the dresser to get pajamas out for the both of you. “Tonight was supposed to be about you, y/n,” he assures you, slipping his Church of Rock and Roll t-shirt over your head and navigating your arms through the sleeves. “You always work so hard during the first week to make sure your classroom is perfect for your students, and I wanted to take care of you tonight. You deserve to see stars after all you do.”

He moves to put on his own pjs after aiding you into stepping into your underwear and sleep shorts, sliding on a pair of threadbare plaid pants and his well-loved Howling Wolf cutoff shirt. Snuggling yourselves into bed, you lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat for several minutes, matching your breaths to his own.

“Thank you, honey boy,” you whisper into the dark. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey girl,” comes his reply. “You’re worth hanging the fuckin’ moon for.”

Giggling, you almost drift off into slumber when you hear Danny’s voice once again. “By the way, I convinced the guys to help with your room tomorrow. I’m not sure whether to say you’re welcome or I’m sorry yet.”

Suddenly, you can’t wait for tomorrow.