#i did literally everything i could to pass

[tetragonia]

A True Love's Kiss

Itadori Yuji x Megumi Fushiguro x Nobara Kugisaki x GN!Reader

summary: The first-years—meaning you, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi—were in deep trouble because a mission had gone wrong. Gojo had told you to exorcise a Grade 2 curse just outside town, but it didn’t end well. The cursed spirit was exorcised, yes, but before it vanished, it left behind one last curse—a curse that could only be broken by a true love’s kiss. Now, the four of you were contemplating how to break it.

notes: uhhh this is just a silly idea lol. also you're welcome to check another silly fic of mine! here -> JJK fic @ AO3!! enjoy!

words: 2.3k

The mission was supposed to be simple. A grade 2 cursed spirit lurking in an abandoned park—nothing they couldn’t handle. They had faced far worse. So when Megumi, Nobara, Yuji, and you cornered the thing near the rusted remains of a jungle gym, they thought it was over.

Then it cursed them.

"What the hell did it just do?" Nobara asked, rubbing her temples. The spirit had let out this ghastly, wailing screech, and suddenly, an invisible force had passed through them like a gust of wind. The air shimmered, reality bending for just a moment—and then everything felt wrong.

Megumi was the first to feel it.

"Shit," he hissed, clutching his head. His body felt heavy, like he was being dragged down by unseen chains. His limbs were sluggish, his vision slightly blurred.

Yuji groaned, stretching his arms, "Ugh. Why do I feel like I just pulled an all-nighter and got hit by a truck?"

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the odd, sinking sensation, "I feel like I’m about to pass out."

"Great. We’re cursed," Nobara, ever the practical one, clicked her tongue. She sighed as she walked away, but she was yanked back. The veil wasn’t lifted yet, but she couldn’t step farther.

“What the hell?” Yuji frowned, as he tried to walk away. But he ended up just like Nobara, it was like there was a giant transparent wall surrounding them.

The spirit laughed, its grotesque mouth curling into a smirk as it started to fade away.

“People can come… but they may not go…” its voice was disgustingly teasing.

“Oh, come on!” you frowned, looking at the spirit’s half-transparent body.

“True love’s kiss… breaks the spell…” it rasped mockingly, before disappearing completely.

Silence.

Dead silence.

You all stood frozen, the cursed spirit’s words settling in like an earthquake cracking through their collective sanity.

Then—

"I’m sorry, WHAT?" Nobara shrieked.

"Did it just say—" Yuji coughed, couldn't believe what he heard.

"Nope. Nope. I refuse," Megumi immediately rejected whatever was about to be suggested.

"You can’t reject it, Megumi, we’re literally cursed!" Nobara snapped.

"True love’s kiss?" you repeated, staring up at the sky like you were having a crisis. "You mean like… fairy tales?"

Yuji, looking both horrified and oddly amused, hesitated, "So… one of us has to… kiss someone?"

Megumi closed his eyes, "I hate this."

"We all hate this!" Nobara shouted. "But if that thing wasn’t lying, then we’re stuck like this until someone kisses their so-called ‘true love’!"

You blinked. Then you squinted.

"Wait. How does it even know what ‘true love’ is?"

"That’s actually a good question," Yuji raised a finger.

"I don’t care! I feel like my soul is rotting inside my body, so someone better start smooching!" Nobara groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

Megumi, in full maximum suffering mode, looked like he was debating whether to just let the curse kill him.

"Absolutely not."

Yuji scratched the back of his head. "Okay, okay, let’s just—hypothetically speaking!—figure this out logically."

"There is no logical way to figure this out!" Megumi snapped.

"Sure there is!" Yuji insisted. "Like… okay, who here has a crush on someone?"

Silence.

Megumi’s eye twitched. Nobara crossed her arms, looking at the others expectantly. You just blinked at Yuji like he was insane. Yuji sighed.

"Okay, fine. Let’s just try kissing someone at random."

"Do you hear yourself?" Megumi asked, voice flat with horror.

You, ever the agent of chaos, suddenly smirked, "Alright, Fushiguro, pucker up."

Megumi stared at you like you had just committed a war crime.

Nobara cackled, grinning wickedly, "Ohhh, yeah, Fushiguro! If it works, then—"

"Over my dead body!" Megumi immediately shut it down.

Yuji, bless his soul, was actually considering it.

"I mean, (Y/N), have you guys ever—"

"Shut up, Itadori!" Megumi barked, palms slamming the table. You snorted.

"Wow, so aggressive. If you keep glaring at me like that, I might actually fall in love."

Megumi looked like he was about to throw himself into traffic.

"Okay!" Nobara interrupted, clapping her hands. "Let’s just get this over with! I’m not sitting here feeling like my soul is corroding. If none of us are romantically interested in each other, then we just gotta go for it."

You exhaled, "I hate that I agree.

Yuji nodded, reluctant but determined, "Alright. Let’s try."

They all looked at each other. Then they realized something.

"Wait," you said, squinting. "There are four of us. What if this curse is, like, super specific and only works for one pair?"

A pause. A horrible pause.

Then Nobara paled, "Oh my god. What if we have to do trial and error?"

Megumi made a sound that was either a groan or the death rattle of his last brain cell. Yuji exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples.

"Okay, okay, we just gotta get this over with. It’s not a big deal, right?"

"It is absolutely a big deal," Megumi’s jaw tightened.

You stretched your arms lazily, "We could just let the curse kill us. Sounds easier than dealing with this."

"Nope!" Nobara shot down that idea immediately, jabbing a finger at your chest. "No one is dying because you’re all too emotionally constipated to kiss someone!"

"Why are we even debating this? It’s simple. If true love’s kiss is the requirement, then it’s already impossible,” Megumi ran a hand down his face.

"Why?" Yuji frowned. Megumi gave him a look.

"Because that means someone here has to be in love with someone else here. And that’s—"

A terrible silence. You blinked, then smirked, "Fushiguro, do you have something to confess?"

Megumi's eye twitched violently, "I swear to—"

"Enough," Nobara clapped her hands. "We’re gonna be scientific about this."

Yuji raised a brow and tilted his head, he looked like a lost puppy, "Scientific?"

Nobara ignored him, rolling up her sleeves.

"We’re going to test every possible combination. First up—Yuji, (Y/N), kiss."

You and Yuji froze.

"Wait, wait, why are we first?!" Yuji panicked.

"Because you’re both dumbasses, and dumbasses should get it over with quickly!"

"That doesn’t even make sense!"

You, still smirking, shrugged, "Alright, alright, let’s get this over with, Itadori. Don’t fall in love with me."

"I—I—don’t phrase it like that!" Yuji made a horrible strangled noise. Nobara grabbed Yuji by the back of his jacket and practically shoved him forward.

"Just do it, I want to go home."

"I—I CAN’T JUST—(Y/N), HELP—" Yuji sputtered.

You, not one to back down from a challenge, grabbed Yuji’s face with both hands, "Shhh, just close your eyes, darling."

"WHAT THE HELL, (Y/N)—"

And then you pecked him right on the lips. The room held its breath. A beat passed.

Two.

Three.

Nothing happened.

Yuji slowly opened one eye, blushing like an idiot, "Did it work?"

"Nope," you popped your lips. "That was a waste."

Yuji, still dazed, touched his mouth, "Huh. That was my first kiss."

"This is the worst mission I’ve ever been on," Megumi groaned into his hands.

"Alright, next pair!"Nobara sighed.

"Oh, let’s do Fushiguro and Itadori next,” you perked up. Megumi snapped his head up.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

"I second that!" Yuji held up his hands.

"Cowards,” you shrugged.

Megumi glared daggers, "(Y/N), why are you enjoying this?"

"Because this is the dumbest thing we’ve ever had to do, and I live for chaos."

Yuji wiped his mouth, still recovering, "Can we at least try people who might actually work? Like, Fushiguro, you and Kugisaki—"

Nobara gagged, "I’d rather fight Sukuna one-on-one."

"What the hell?!" Megumi looked genuinely offended.

"Not my fault you have the romantic appeal of a cactus."

"Then you and (Y/N) can go next,” Megumi looked ready to commit murder.

You and Nobara made eye contact. You nodded, "Sure, why not?"

Nobara shrugged, "Whatever."

Yuji’s jaw dropped, "Wait, why are you two so chill about it?!"

Nobara rolled her eyes.

"Because we’re not insecure little boys, Itadori. Pucker up, (Y/N)."

"Try not to fall for me," you smirked. And just like that, you kissed Nobara, and she kissed you back.

A pause.

Nothing happened.

Nobara clicked her tongue.

"Lame."

"Wow, no true love between us? I’m heartbroken,” you sighed dramatically.

“Oh, come on. This is stupid,” Nobara huffed as she turned to Yuji. “Oi. Let’s get this over with.”

“Huh?” Yuji blinked.

“You. Me. Let’s kiss.”

“Ooooh,” you whistled at her firm and commanding voice. Megumi rolled his eyes.

“Can we just hurry up and break this already?”

“Uh, alright. But if this doesn’t work, you owe me ten onigiri,” Yuji, still processing, scratched the back of his head.

“You really think this is a fair bet?” Nobara narrowed her eyes.

“Hey, food is food!” Yuji just shrugged.

Nobara sighed sharply, grabbed his collar, and kissed him. A beat of silence. Everyone stared.

The curse did not break.

Yuji pulled back, smacking his lips together, “Huh.”

Nobara frowned, eyes darting around her own body like she expected something to change, “Seriously?”

You snorted, “Damn, Kugisaki. Guess you’re not Itadori’s true love.”

“Gross. That was a waste of time,” Nobara wiped her lips on her sleeve.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘gross’? I brushed my teeth today!” Yuji looked genuinely offended.

“Oh, congrats. You’re so hygienic.”

"More hygienic than you—”

Megumi groaned, “We don’t have time for this. Just go down the list already.”

“Man, you make it sound like we’re checking homework,” Yuji shuddered. "Alright, Fushiguro, pucker up."

Yuji cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. Megumi's entire soul left his body.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, we don’t have all day," Yuji pointed at himself. "I'm true. I got love. So let's do this, man."

Megumi took an instinctive step back, "I think I'd rather die."

"Wow. Wow. That is so messed up," Yuji gasped, looking genuinely offended.

"It's not that I—" Megumi massaged his temples. "I just—maybe I should kiss (Y/N) first.”

The moment he said it, he knew he had made a mistake. Yuji froze. Then, very slowly, his eye twitched.

"You wanna kiss (Y/N) first?" he repeated.

Megumi winced, "I just meant—"

"OH, I SEE HOW IT IS."

Yuji grabbed Megumi’s collar, yanking him forward, "So you'd rather have your first kiss with (Y/N) than me? Your best buddy?"

Megumi sputtered, "Why are you making this about you?!"

"BECAUSE I AM OFFENDED!" Yuji yelled, shaking him. "We've been through so much together! And you'd rather kiss (Y/N)?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!"

"That’s not—" Megumi tried to pry Yuji’s hands off, but Yuji had freakish strength. "I just—logically—"

"LOGICALLY, YOU SHOULD JUST LET ME KISS YOU!"

"THAT'S NOT LOGIC, ITADORI, THAT'S JUST YOU WANTING TO KISS ME—"

"AND WHAT IF I DO?! WHAT THEN?!"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

Meanwhile, you and Nobara were wheezing. Nobara had collapsed onto your shoulder, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

"Oh my god," Nobara gasped, gripping your sleeve. "This is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

You grinned at the view, eyes gleaming. "Do you think if I say ‘just kiss already,’ they’ll actually do it?"

"Try it."

"Hey, ItaFushi," you called, grinning. "Just kiss already."

"SHUT UP!"

"NOT HELPING!"

Megumi, still half-dangling from Yuji’s grip, groaned, "This is stupid. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been a part of."

"We both know that’s not true,” Yuji snorted.

"Fair," Megumi looked neutral for a second, but he continued fuming. “But can we wait for help?!”

He wasn’t the one to call for help, he was always the one helping. But this whole situation? Nope.

Yuji, deep in thought, snapped his fingers, "What if we call Gojo?"

Megumi turned to Yuji so fast his neck nearly snapped.

"WHAT?!"

"Oh my god, imagine if Gojo was Megumi’s true love!” you cackled.

Nobara wiped away a tear, "We’d never let him live it down."

Yuji, very serious, pulled out his phone, "Okay, I’m calling him."

Megumi grabbed Yuji’s wrist in a death grip.

"Itadori. I swear. If you call him, I will summon my shikigami and make them maul you."

Yuji gulped.

"Okay. Okay. No Gojo. Got it."

“No me?”

A voice chimed in as its owner walked innocently through the transparent wall. Gojo squatted down, grinning, "What the hell happened to you guys? Why does it took so long?"

Four pair of eyes widened, three from shocks and one from an instant death.

Megumi sighed as he just signed a contract to his own death, "Curse. Wouldn’t break. Stupid condition."

"Huh? What kind of curse?" Gojo raised a brow.

"True love’s kiss."

Gojo froze hearing Yuji’s answer. And then he grinned.

"Oh?" he said, far too delighted. "And? Did you figure it out?"

Nobara grumbled something obscene. You just snorted. Gojo chuckled hearing all the responses, "So that’s a no, huh?"

Then, without missing a beat, he reached out—and kissed Megumi’s forehead.

A soft glow flickered over Megumi’s body, and passed through Yuji, Nobara, you, and eventually the transparent wall surrounding them.

And just like that—the curse lifted.

Silence.

Utter, complete silence.

Yuji slowly lifted his head. Nobara looked up so fast her neck nearly snapped. You blinked blearily at the scene.

Megumi sat there, completely frozen.

Gojo, still grinning, gave him a light pat on the head, "See? Was that so hard?"

"Holy shit," you covered your mouth with your hand.

"It was Gojo-sensei?!" Yuji looked horrified. "All along?"

"YOU MEAN WE WENT THROUGH ALL THAT FOR NOTHING?!" Nobara screeched.

Megumi looked like he was experiencing all seven stages of grief at once while Gojo stood up casually, stretching.

"Man, this brings back memories! I used to do that to you all the time when you were little, Megumi."

Megumi finally snapped out of it, "DON’T SAY THAT."

You, grinning like an idiot, leaned on Megumi’s shoulder as you whispered to his ear, "Fushiguro… is Gojo your true love?"

Megumi shoved you off, "I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU."

"I hate everything,” Yuji just lay back down

Gojo, absolutely thriving, clapped his hands.

"Alright, now that that’s settled—who wants pancakes?"

Megumi wished the ground would swallow him whole.

[howisjoostfanfictionforfree]

Three Times as Many ///// Longer Nights

Real person fiction! Joost Klein x vampire!reader

CW: 18+, MDNI, RPF, brief reference to past murder, cannibalism if you squint, smoochin, dry humping, oral sex, light bondage

Reader: vampire!reader, cisfemale!reader, not too descriptive with readers appearance, implied to be smaller than Joost but by an unspecified amount

Notes: Read part 1 here. Sorry for how atrociously long this part took! Vampire Joost in the Why Not??? mv helped give me the inspo to finish. I hope you guys like it because I can’t tell if I do or not. Thanks for reading!

Gargantuan kudos to @joosthead for being my inspiration and my support as always! Also huge shoutout to @catholicfacade and @tkomptgoedluv for your kind words that have driven me onwards with this fic! My tumblr homies on god

Words: ~11,600

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're not sure why you left Joost standing there. 

Why you ran away. 

Again.

Things were going so well. You could have kissed him. Could have done all sorts of things. It's not like he wasn't into it.

Maybe it was just to get a reaction. Joost is so expressive. The way he looks at you is already something you crave and you've really only just met. Maybe it’s because as much as you want to believe you overreacted that first night, you're still not really sure you did. Nothing has made you lose control like that since the time you literally ate someone.

The doubt tickles at the back of your mind but it’s also hard to pay it too much attention when the insistent pressure of Joost’s cock against your ass is seared so clearly into your memory. It’s hard not to want to see him again. 

Still, if you’re doing this, you’re taking no chances.

Joost is expecting you at his studio tomorrow, so tonight, Melkweg is the place to be. Tickets to actually see a show are too expensive when you're not there to enjoy yourself so the cold evening is spent against the even-colder cement wall of a movie theater across the street. Wedged between gently lit ads for Bones and All and Puss in Boots you watch those who have partied too hard trickle out of Melkweg’s ever-revolving door. Each is more than drunk enough to suit your needs, but tonight they are all in groups. So responsible. So unhelpful. When one guy finally stumbles out sans-friend you let yourself follow, slipping into those same shadows that are deeper than ever. 

Fall is well underway and nights are only getting longer.

A few streets away the lamps are sparse enough and he goes down easy. His blood is hot and sharp and everything it should be, but it’s hard to miss how unmoved you are by the man beneath you. He tastes good, it scratches an itch, but your attention is divided and the whole process somehow feels clinical. Even now you're thinking of Joost. How you wish it were him. How he would moan when your teeth slide in deep. Deeper than he expects. Would he still be so happy-go-lucky then? Or would he claw and beg? You don’t even know which one you prefer. The man groans and you realize you're biting way too hard.

It was a good idea to do this tonight. 

You try to drink your fill, as much as you suspect the poor guy can tolerate, and release him. He nearly stumbles into the canal in his panic, but rights himself before you have to make a watery rescue. His hot blood simmers in your veins, warming you against the evening chill as you watch him stagger down the street and disappear. Hopefully he can find his way home on a cold night like this.

Anti-murder  insurance measures complete, you head for your own home with what you hope is a full belly.

The morning doesn't bring the rain so typical of your new favorite city, but instead a creeping mist. Almost as thick as the shadows that multiply with each passing night, the tiny droplets obscure the neighborhood as you stand on your balcony ruminating on how very in-control you will be today. 

The address Joost gave is surprisingly close to your own apartment. The brisk ride on your shabby bike that may or may not have originally belonged to someone else lasts only ten minutes. 16 Schimmelstraat is like much of Amsterdam. One of many brick row houses lined up one after another, complete with compulsory loading beam and hook jutting out above the top window, leftover from when the street was once a canal. There are a few small shops tucked in at ground level but most of the buildings appear residential. Few people are on the street and with the way the sun can’t quite penetrate through the murky whiteness, the world almost seems to stand still.

Joost stands on the stoop at the end of the row in what looks like at least three hoodies. He’s still so beautiful it’s shocking. Leaning against cold whitewashed brick, much as you did last night, he smokes lazily. The tendrils curl up and away from perfect pouty lips to join with the mist and you can imagine the city is enshrouded all because of him. 

You see Joost long before he sees you. Hard not to spot a glowing head of hair like that even in this murkiness. Here in the Netherlands it shouldn’t stand out, but it did in the club and it does now too. You’re sure it’s just the almost-mullet. Nothing to do with the way his features are imprinted on your hindbrain.

When he notices you coming down the street, his face lights up just like before. He can barely stub out his cigarette as he keeps looking up like you’ll disappear. Bounding down the steps on those long long legs, Joost skids to a halt mere inches away, nearly bowling you over and flooding you with his scent.

“Heyyy!” Joost looks so excited it's almost embarrassing. Hands flit around at his sides like he wants to touch but in the sober light of day he can't seem to find an excuse. It doesn't keep him from standing way too close for sanity. Already, your preparations are threatening to become useless as you fight the tug behind your eyes. “I’m happy you came!” He blurts, giddy. “I didn't know if you would really come in the middle of the day.” 

You squint. He can’t be serious. “I’m not nocturnal, I just prefer the club at night!” 

He giggles nervously “I wasn’t sure. Everyone knows vampires burn in the sun. Or sparkle. Looks like you don’t sparkle either.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

He smiles so sweetly at that. “You don’t. I’m glad you came. Still want me to show you my stuff?” There's the eyebrow waggle again. You didn't know someone could look so sweet and so unrepentantly horny at the same time. “C’mon, it’s just upstairs.”

Opening the door, Joost lets you through before following you inside. Immediately faced with another door you try the handle, but before you can budge it there is a jingle and he leans past with a key. It’s obvious Joost is making a move when he lets his chest press against your back as he all but pens you in, breath fanning over your neck. It’s more than welcome, but in the tiny space trapping every molecule of his scent, it nearly makes you do something terrible.. 

“Wait, wait, hold on.” You whip around and press flat against the door to regain some space, trying desperately not to get riled. No matter your preparations, Joost is an assault on the senses. 

“Sorry!” he pulls away quickly, big blue eyes searching you from behind thick black frames, eyebrows inching upwards. “Sorry. Was I reading this wrong?”

Holding your breath would help, but he's asked you a question and you can’t imagine ignoring a face like that. “No, you just..you smell too nice…and…I really need to get a handle on the eyes. Just…hold on one sec.” Joost absorbs that for a split second before melting back into a smile. “Oh, but we're alone, it's okay right? I like your eyes.” 

Such a flatterer. And he’s kind of right, it is good that you're alone for this. It’s a goddamn miracle no one noticed your eyes at the club. Here, you almost want to take advantage of the opportunity to relax around such an unusually accepting person. Still, you know Joost is also an unusually slippery slope.  “No- I’m trying not to-” you can’t even finish. He waits patiently while you fight it but the memory of him hard against your ass in the club makes a timely reappearance and the eyes snap into place. 

“Fuck.”  You cover them quickly. 

He brings a hand to your wrist. “Let me see.” So gentle and so shameless, he convinces you easily. Dropping your hand, you meet his eyes and he holds them, just as mesmerized as before.

 “That must be a huge pain in the ass.” 

Your confusion must show because he clarifies “Hiding that all the time I mean. I’m glad I didn’t just buzz you in, Tantu might have been the one to get the door.” 

You blink. “I don’t think Tantu would have been a problem.” 

It’s his turn to look puzzled.

“I mean, this isn’t usually a problem. You just smell so much better than anyone else.” Now that you’re past pretending to be human you can’t find it in you to be anything other than blunt. 

The gears turning in his head are all but visible as he swallows thickly, face pink. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Well, just give me a minute, I think I’m almost there.” something about what you say makes his stunned look slide into a smirk but you ignore it in favor of focusing on slowing your heart and pretending you don’t smell the spike of arousal coming off him. 

You’re definitely not wet. Nope. 

After another minute you take a deep breath, and even though the accompanying wave of pheromones makes you want to punch the wall, you manage to keep your eyes normal. “Okay, let’s go” He obliges, and you give him room to unlock the door.

Turns out, Tantu is the DJ from the club. One of the many of Joosts friends that had been there that night. You step into is in fact a very real studio full of very real equipment you couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. Tantu daps Joost up with noticeable warmth and welcomes you into the space without fuss. It’s clear any friend of Joost’s is a friend of Tantu and he soon leaves you to return to stabbing at his computer. Joost shows you to his own in the opposite corner. 

Right off the bat, you realize any assumptions you might have had about Joost had been wrong as he hands you the most expensive looking pair of headphones you've ever seen and proceeds to play you his entire studio album released just over a month ago. At the club he had said ‘huge artiest’ so jokingly, so flirtatiously, somehow managing to be modest mid-brag. You hadn’t known whether to believe him. You had hoped it would be true, but you hadn't really expected it. 

Here, now, in the span of fourteen songs it becomes abundantly clear he’s not just some soundcloud rapper, not a wannabe star. He’s a real one. 

He tells you a little about each song before he plays it. Who helped him the most in the end (mostly Tantu), where he was when he started writing it (so many places, he travels a lot), how he sampled this for this song and this for that song. He is deeply proud but you can tell there is also a layer of nervousness, like he truly wants you to like it.

You sing along to Fryslan Bop, the one from the club, and he laughs hysterically as you try and fail to imitate the sound of Dutch lyrics you can’t understand to the best of your memory. 

Finally, you finish and he seems to be waiting for a review.

“I couldn’t understand almost any of that, sorry to say. Only fuck, the handful of other English words, and Joost Klein. That really is your favorite lyric isn't it?” He shrugs happily. “But I didn't need to. I liked it. It made me feel… things. You have a lot of range in your sound. All the festivals I went to this summer and nothing sounded like this.”  

He’s grinning ear to ear. “Did you go to Pinkpop? I got to play this year!”

“Yes! I definitely didn't see you though, I would have remembered.” 

He nods sagely. “Must have been a different day.” 

You want to ask about the sad song in the middle of the album. Florida-something. So different from the upbeat tracks before and after. Somehow though, it feels like you can’t, like you shouldn't, and you let it lie. 

“All right! What’s next?”

Joost remains flirtatious over the afternoon but it’s dramatically toned down compared to your last encounter. Maybe it’s just how he behaves normally, without the booze and the high of the club. Maybe it's shyness given Tantu within earshot. Either way, you have no such reservations.

“Y’know, I was half expecting it to be all talk. Like, I wondered if ‘come to my studio’ was code for my place or yours?” Tantu coughs in the corner and a blush creeps up Joost’s neck. His scent kicks up and you're reminded why flirting right now isn’t actually a good idea. Still, getting reactions out of Joost is a wonderful pastime and you can't help yourself. “This is so much better, this stuff is amazing, I’m serious. I think I’m gonna join the groupies.” From the corner of your eye you can see Tantu put on headphones. Joost looks rightfully smug. 

Hmm, not shy then. Smug is good too. 

After another hour of poking around in the files, you propose early dinner. Joost seems kind of surprised but suggests a few spots nearby. Maybe he expected you to bail again. To be fair, you’ve never stuck around this long before. Tantu declines to join, citing too much to do. A suspicious answer, but you won't complain if he wants to let you be alone with Joost.

Joost leads you to an Italian restaurant of all places. It’s a short walk but from the corner of your eye you catch him almost reach for your hand no less than four times. You don’t reach back, pretend not to notice. He hasn’t touched you since this morning when he crowded you against the door and you wish he would again but watching him squirm is so much fun. The November sun has already gone down and the neon sign for Antonio’s glows like a beacon on a street with few other lights. Joost stops to stare up at it. “Can you uh…can you eat garlic?” 

What are you gonna do with this guy? 

“No, I'll die.” He whips his head around. “Really?! Fuck, sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I know another place-.” You can’t keep a straight face. “No, I’m kidding. C’mon I’m hungry.” He follows, sputtering.

They must peg you for a couple because they automatically seat you at a table in the corner away from other customers. As you peruse the menu, Joost is unusually quiet. His eyes keep flicking up to you as you read. The waitress comes to take your order and his eyebrows disappear into his bangs when you ask for pasta. He’s still staring once she leaves and you can’t stand it any more. 

“Dude, I can't drink blood all the time.” 

He chokes on his water. 

This is apparently the permission he needs to unleash the legion of questions that have been brewing since the fateful moment you rubbed up on his dick and disappeared into the night. Joost proceeds to take inventory of your personal brand of vampire with a thoroughness you did not expect. You really should have, considering the way his heart picks up every time anything vaguely vampiric takes place. 

He’s a bit of a nerd about it actually. 

“So you eat regular food?” 

Yes. 

“Do you have to drink blood?” 

Yes.

“Do you have fangs?”

Yes.

“It doesn’t look like you have fangs.”

They’re retracted.

“Re..tracted.”

Not full length right now.

“Oh. Can you turn invisible?”

No. 

“Can you brainwash humans?” 

No. What? 

“Can you turn into a bat?” 

No!

“Okay, okay! How often do you have to drink blood?” 

You tell him what you’ve found to be true over the years. 

Blood doesn’t seem to be necessary for actual nutrition, but the longer you go without it the more you crave it, and ultimately the more forceful you become when you finally take what you need. It makes you feel healthier, it gives you energy, but beyond any of that it’s just an urge you always have. Abstaining for very long only leads to bad times for your unwilling donors when you finally give in. Indulging about twice a week seems to be the best for keeping people out of the hospital. 

By the time the food arrives, Joost is looking suspiciously horny. Smells like it too. Resisting the tug at the back of your eyes is already becoming a practiced routine. He doesn’t seem the least bit deterred by the casual mention of violence and you wonder if you could ever tell Joost about that night. 

The thought gets flicked aside as quickly as it came. 

No one can ever know what you’ve done and it’s honestly crazy to be letting him in at all. Everything you have come to accept can’t be part of your life, everything you left behind, it was to protect you- you did it to survive. 

With Joost, it’s almost like those rules have gone out the window. You don’t know what about him has you wanting to be so honest. He may be unfairly hot and the only person who has never freaked out on you but where is the self preservation? 

You’re probably going to have to move again. 

Joost has more questions but you’re curious about him. He’s Dutch, he’s beautiful, he’s not actually a poser, he clearly has a danger kink, but who is he? Somehow, though he’s bright red again, the first thing out of his mouth is that he is not Dutch. He is from Fryslân! Joost tells you a little bit about where he grew up, when he first moved to Amsterdam, how he used to do Youtube and how he first met Tantu. You let him talk and set to work making a dent in your noodles. 

Everything Joost tells you helps paint a picture, but to your curiosity, he is quick to skate over most of his past. Anything more than a handful of years ago gets more and more vague and it becomes clear there's something he’s avoiding. You don’t see why he would be holding out on you, it’s not like you haven’t been telling him all your secrets. Well, maybe not all of them. Whatever. 

The Florida song tickles at the back of your mind and you don’t press it. 

“I’m down to one noodle, wanna Lady and the Tramp this shit?” 

Sadly, though he accepts with enthusiasm, the noodle breaks and you don’t get your arrabiata kiss. He checks his phone while you wait for the bill and curses under his breath. “What is it?” you mumble through your napkin.

“Tantu was just being polite earlier. He wanted to work on more stuff after dinner but I didn’t see the message.” You begin to wonder what that means for your evening but Joost is already smiling again as he slips the phone back into his pocket. “Oh well, Tantu always forgives me. We’ll do it later. Wanna go through the park on the way back?” Your stomach gives a little flip. “Yeah.”

The last vestiges of the sunset are long gone and the park is deathly quiet. The fog has been so thick for so long that the grass is soaked, glistening under the lamplight and stretching out on either side of the path to form dark fields of glitter. 

“So, is it a date this time?” He asks innocently. You try not to trip over nothing.

You want it to be a date. It really shouldn't be, you shouldn't let people know you, but for so long it hasn’t even been an option and Joost is so much more than an option. You’ve never met anyone like him.

“Yes.”

He grabs your hand and every hair on your body stands on end. It’s an innocent touch, all things considered, but you know where this is going and finally, finally, something is happening. It’s a wonder you didn’t end up in his bed that night at the club. He so clearly wanted you, and you were just as ready to let him hit it against the wall in the alley if he’d asked. This time, you're not running.

He swings your hands as you walk, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. Every ounce of your attention is zeroed-in on the way his big hand curls around yours, but it’s also becoming impossible not to notice the emptiness around you. The surface of the pond is mirror-smooth and the trees stand lifeless as you wander deeper into the park, like everything is holding its breath. You are utterly alone and the crunching of your shared footsteps seems to echo. 

Forgetting you're an apex predator, one would almost worry about what is lurking in the shadows. It’s fun to suspend your disbelief, let the atmosphere affect you and pretend that Joost is your only hope against the creatures of the night. You grip his hand tighter and he grips back, giving a little squeeze then lacing his fingers between your own. 

The path continues along the water and under a bridge. Low but wide, the street that goes over must be a main thoroughfare yet not a single car can be heard. Joost’s puffs of breath are all the more audible as you enter the void of the tunnel underneath. The shadows are deep, unnaturally so, and you can only half make out the patchwork of graffiti. The lamp at the exit seems farther than it should be and it gives you a thrill, still indulging in your supernatural fantasy. You press your side up against Joost, letting the closeness be a comfort even though you are nothing but excited. 

He stops in place suddenly, catching you by the hand, and pulls you to his chest. He wraps an arm around your back and squeezes. “Why are we walking so fast?”

The light is so low but you can still make out his features, pink, golden, and perfect, looking at you bemused. “It’s spooky out here, don’t you think?” You half-whisper. “If I’m out here, who knows what else is too.” It’s said with a smile and Joost grins right back. 

“Don’t worry, we’re safe if we’re together.” His eyes dart to your lips and back up before he speaks again. “Slow down for me?” In the stillness of the night, his heartbeat is deafening. His normally crystal eyes are dark, pupils dilating more and more with his climbing pulse. It’s a shame he can’t hear yours. A feeling you refuse to name pricks at your chest and you crane your neck up. 

He beats you to it. 

Your mouths meet and color explodes behind your lids. If his scent was powerful, the taste of him is something else entirely. Joost groans against your lips and releases your hand to wrap both arms around you, crushing you close. When he has you where he wants you, one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head and he licks at the seam of your mouth. You open for him and he licks further into you with a sigh. It’s hard to keep up. Now that Joost finally has you in his arms he is greedy and the hot wet of his mouth threatens to eat you alive. 

You don’t think you would mind if it did. 

Joost is forced to pull away first, his laboured breath visible in the cold. You whine at the loss and his eyes widen. Need for air forgotten again, he peddles you backwards until your back hits the wall of the tunnel and he’s on you again. Joost kisses you deep, hard, pressing you into the concrete like you’re laid flat on a bed. The kisses make their way down your neck and when your eyes open as he sucks at your collar bone, it is to see that the passage and all its vandalism register in perfect detail. You never even felt the tug but your eyes are fully shifted. 

He lifts his head to capture your mouth again and you can’t mistake the infatuation in his eyes when he notices your own.

It ruins you. You could never say no to a face like that. What’s more, you don’t want to. His devotion is so apparent and this is only your first time together. If he weren't pressing you into the wall, it would have you on your knees. 

You kiss back, hungry. Maybe if you swallow him whole, you can keep him forever. It’s hard to ignore how good he smells. His arousal has been simmering all day but now it’s kicked up to a thousand and every inhale sends a pang to your cunt. Your panties are toast. 

The hand cushioning your head from the wall comes around to cup your cheek as Joost tries his best to drink your little noises. He has plenty of his own. Words too. Little yes’s and encouragements when he slips his knee between your thighs and you grind down. 

His length is hard against your tummy, bigger than you realized when it was against your ass before. 

The rush of blood just below his skin is audible to your sensitive ears- so quick, so loud, with the frantic pace of his heart. The hot length of his throat is flush with it, and the most mouth-watering aroma curls lazily from the neck of his hoodie. 

Your core throbs. Your teeth ache. 

Joost’s fingers start to curl under the edge of your jacket, fumbling to get under the shirt. The cool air and his cold hands make you moan and he whimpers in response, grabbing you hard by both hips and grinding into you firmly. It turns your legs to jelly, and you have to break the kiss to catch your breath against his chest. 

Too overcome to focus on a rhythm, he thrusts mindlessly every couple beats as his lips make their way slowly down your temple. Even through all the clothing, the hot length of him is like a brand over your navel. He licks over your ear and all the air you managed to recover whooshes right out again. Joost’s shameless enthusiasm, his desperation, has your head spinning. His scent has enveloped you completely- arousal so thick you can almost taste it with his throat so close to your face. You want to taste it. He nibbles at your earlobe tenderly and your stomach swoops. 

Spit pools on your tongue and it’s dawning on you that there might be a problem.

His lips start to travel down your neck a second time. Open-mouthed kisses and tiny nips followed by the flat of his tongue laving over each mark, soothing each time it makes you grip him tighter. Then, without warning, his mouth drops to that same spot on your shoulder- the same as in the club, and he bites down.

The thrill it sends through you ricochets down to your pussy, clenching around nothing, and back up again in a split second. Your fangs drop. 

You lunge forward before you can think.

You can’t think, actually. Joost is on you, around you, and he might as well be in you with the way he fills up every corner of your awareness making higher functions impossible. He jerks back, surprised at the speed of the movement, and your teeth sink into three layers of hoodie. 

It tastes like the pasta sauce he dripped on himself at dinner.

Your gut swoops in an entirely different way as your head clears all too suddenly and you unlock your jaw and shove him off you, hand slapping over your mouth. Joost staggers back a few steps at the force, nearly falling on his ass. He looks petulant, big eyes pleading like you’ve just taken away his favorite toy. 

“What's wrong?” He huffs, already closing the distance again. You lurch away to maintain the space and confusion twists his brow. Joost tugs at the neck of his hoodie, tucking his chin to look at it and finding two jagged holes and a patch of dampness. His brow goes slack in understanding. “Oh, it’s okay, come here.” He reaches for you again. “You know I want you to bite me right?” 

Your eyes widen and you dodge his grabby hands. You don’t dare remove your own hand from your mouth to speak. Really, you should have known. In retrospect, it was obvious. Should have known from the moment he bit you the first time in the club that he really did want you to bite him back. Fucking vampire kink fucking weirdo. Not that you’re entirely complaining.

Finally Joost stops reaching for you, pouting, and waits. You don’t trust yourself to speak for several minutes. It would be better if you left, ran away again in case the sanity doesn’t hold. You don’t want to do that to him again though, not a third time. You have to get a grip.

Slowly, you remove your hand and he perks up. “Sorry, about your hoodie. I- , We- , We shouldn’t do that. You won’t like it.”

“What, why not? I think I would.”

“Believe me, it hurts.”

His trademark blush and grin combo is firmly back in place. “I don't care, it’s kind of hot.”

You pause, unsure how to counter without laying out the details of how you don’t want to commit murder a second time. “It’s like with the eyes. With you, I can’t really help what I’m doing, can’t control myself. It would probably be rough. I might hurt you. I mean, it always hurts but I think I might hurt you for real.”

He looks contemplative, though you notice the blush hasn’t diminished. “Is it really that different with me?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. I think- , I think I just need to get used to you. I probably can’t ever bite you, but if we’re gonna get cozy without me flipping my shit, then I think we might need an adjustment period.” You immediately realize what you said. “That is, uh, if you want to keep doing this sometimes.”

He doesn’t leave you hanging. “I do! You said this is a date, I want more dates.” His earnest expression becomes immediately suggestive. “If I have to wait to show you my stuff, that's okay. Can’t help it if I drive you crazy.”

Oh, he’s a bastard. “Whatever you say, spaghetti shirt. You’re gonna need to stop biting me too, I can’t be held responsible for what that makes me want to do to you.”

“Noted.” He chokes through a laugh.

“Alright, let's go back. I’m fucking cold.”

The second Joost had kissed you, all fantasies of supernatural ambiance were forgotten. Now that you're separated again, they are at the front of your mind once more. The shadows look like more than shadows and the density of the fog feels designed to conceal something lurking beyond. You feel the need to protect Joost, probably from yourself, but it’s nicer to imagine something else so you let the fantasy reform. The twinge of unease from the misty morning on your balcony is back and you do your best to stomp it out. You just need to take it slow. You can still do this if you take it slow and let yourself get used to him. 

The walk is mostly quiet. Joost seems thoughtful and you try not to hold his hand too hard. When you make it back to the studio, you unlock your bike and try not to imagine the night swallowing him when you go your separate ways. When you turn back to him, Joost swoops in again for another kiss. It’s only a peck, he’s giving you the space you asked for, but then his hand grabs your own and brings it to his mouth. It seems like he's going to kiss that too, goofy as he is, but quick as blinking he gives your knuckle a nip and winks before doing a one-eighty and starting down the street. 

You clutch your hand to your chest like you’ve been burned. He bit you! Again! He keeps biting you and now he's walking calmly with his back turned like it doesn’t make you want to chase him down and pin him. Like it doesn't make you want to take him there on the pavement and tear into him. “See you later!” He waves before disappearing around the corner. It’s hard to decide whether to blush or go pale. 

You wonder, not for the last time, what the fuck you are doing. 

There's no chance to stew too long because the very next day Joost is already taking up all your attention. He hits you up at ten. You're naked in front of the mirror brushing your teeth when he calls. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” So chipper. 

You spit into the sink. “Just work, was gonna go to a cafe.”

“Can I come with?” He is possibly the most distracting person in the world for you, if last night was any indication, but he sounds so eager you can’t find it in you to say no. 

Joost meets you at your usual cafe down the street. A place you often find yourself working these days when your cozy apartment, though a good refuge from the persistent rain, becomes just a little too monotonous. There is another moment of acclimation when you meet him out front, but you manage to keep your eyes from changing. You lean into him, forehead against his chest to keep anyone from seeing in case you can’t keep a handle on it while he smooths a hand down your back, heart noticeably fast and scent stirring at the closeness. Anyone bothering to pay attention would think you were any normal couple embracing. After a few minutes when nothing happens, you straighten. Joost almost looks disappointed. 

He swoops in rather dramatically to pay when you order at the counter and you let him, bemused. He wants to know whether you’ve ever tried poffertjes and when the food arrives he feeds you one off his plate, looking only vaguely horny when you wrap your lips around it. Joost asks you how you like the Netherlands and you find yourself telling him how long you really haven't been here. Before you know it, you're telling him all the places you've lived over the past few years, distracted from your work already. He has so many questions and he drinks up your stories eagerly, relays some of his own about some of the same places. He really does travel a lot.

You get so caught up that you retrace your journey all the way back to your home country. When you pause, he notices you’ve exhausted your list. “That’s where you're from, right? You have the accent.” 

You hesitate, but telling him where you're from won’t actually bring him any closer to knowing what you did. “Yeah, that’s home.” 

“Why did you leave? Why so many places?” 

Fuck. 

“Is it because-” he pokes at his canines with the tips of his index fingers “vampire?” Relief washes over you. It’s the truth technically, more than he will ever know, and you don't really have to explain it. He’s filling in the gaps himself. “Yeah, got too hard to hide.” 

When you part after many hours and little work, he gives you the tiniest, softest kiss, takes your hand, and brushes his mouth over the same knuckle before gently biting it once more.

The cafe becomes a pattern for the two of you, him showing up more often than you would have thought he had time for. He’s better at letting you work after that first day. Often brings his own things to work on, mostly concert visuals, and becomes deeply immersed in editing and drawing when he isn’t serving as your unwitting tech-support. 

When you’re not working, he takes up your time all the same. He texts you constantly. A stupid picture of his dog, of Tantu, an edgy meme. You're not used to it. It's been years since anyone has texted you at all. Even your boss just emails. Most often, the texting is to suss out where you are and if you're busy. He seems determined to take you to what you're realizing is every place he usually spends his free time. His favorite restaurants, his favorite parks, his favorite bars. He's so bright, so gleeful in almost everything that he does. Joost shows you things just to see if you like them too.

One night he shows up at your door, six-pack in hand.

 “Hi! …How do you know where I live?” 

He stares back with eyes that look huge through the black frames slid low on his nose. “You sent me a pin? I thought you wanted me to meet you.”

 A glance at your phone reveals the sent pin and several highly enthusiastic reply texts that you very much had not noticed. You meant to send him the link to the place you were meeting tomorrow. Fuck your life. 

“Uh, I didn’t mean to. Hope I didn't make you drop anything to come here.” 

“No, you didn't! What are you up to? Wanna hang out?” Joost almost talks like a kid. The bottles clink at the way he wiggles while he speaks and it only adds to the effect despite the way he towers over you like you're the child. That night you proceed to have the first of many regular movie marathons with Joost. Keeping your hands to yourself is hard with him on your couch all cozy and warm, oozing pheromones, but he mostly behaves and so do you.

Another night, he takes you to his favorite skate park where you don't do any skating. You just sit and watch everyone else and eat ice cream that melts way too fast while he tells you about someone named Nathan. 

Another night after that he brings you to his place where you play COD until he gives up trying to teach you and you talk until the sun comes up. It's more difficult being in Joost’s flat, everything smells like him and it was fucking mean of him to wear grey sweatpants the first time you come over. Still, he gives you space, not pushing like you can tell he wants to.

It’s kind of sweet actually. This stranger you met at the club, grinded on at the club, trying to work with you and be delicate like being delicate matters. It all felt like some kind of weird extended hook-up at first, but the longer this goes on the more it feels like Joost wants to know you.

No one has been allowed to know you in a long time. 

You want to know him too- know more of his favourite places, his favorite movies, his favourite foods. Know what it is he isn't saying every time you talk about the past.

It’s beginning to feel like you will. Like this thing you have going isn't so crazy.  

Seeing Joost starts to fill your days, replacing the sporadic trips to the club that filled the human-shaped hole in your chest with a companionship that made you forget there ever was a hole. You didn’t realize how much of your time was so empty before. 

Of course he isn’t always around. Often disappears for days on end to the studio and long weekends away for concerts. But, he always comes looking for you when he’s done and no matter what else you get up to together, you always find yourselves back at the cafe. You’ve carved out your own territory there, a table where no one else ever seems to sit as if they know it's meant for the two of you. 

One morning you sit at it, waiting for Joost. He strolls in later than usual, humming what sounds a lot like Numa Numa as he approaches with an extra spring in his step. He plops down unceremoniously in his usual seat across from you, fishes around in one cavernous pocket, and deposits a steel ball-gag in front of your croissant and coffee with a clatter.

“Hey, good morning. What’s this?” 

He rubs his hands together like some kind of cartoon villain. “Good morning! I’m so glad you asked! I was just thinking since, y’know, sharp teeth problem, you could wear this and then we could do whatever we want!” His eyebrows wiggle furiously. “Well, I guess we wouldn’t be able to kiss, but you know what I mean.”

“Uhhhhh.”

“I know you said you just need to get used to me but this way you don’t have to!” His giggly, somewhat bashful self of the first few weeks knowing him has melted away to leave a Joost with honestly very little shame. It was gradual, and he was never too reserved to begin with, but these days he is incorrigible. You must be rubbing off on him.

Sadly, this one isn’t up your alley.

“I’m gonna be real, that’s not happening.  Have you ever tried one of these? It’s a good idea but I can’t handle that much drool.”

“Come on, please? I won’t laugh at you I swear. And honestly-” He leans in close. “I needed to eat you out like yesterday. Can we try it?”

As much as you don’t care that everyone in the cafe has been looking at you since the second Joost whipped out a ball gag, you also don’t want to get kicked out. This is your favorite spot. “No, put that away!” 

Joost takes it in stride but as the days pass, you can tell he’s far from done with his scheming. At the movies and the automat and everywhere else he takes you, at his apartment and at yours where you’ve both started expecting each other, he is always nudging. Tempting you more and more while still following the rules. Little flirtations and kisses and those goddamn tiny little bites you never quite get used to. The tender press of his canines around your knuckle make your stomach swoop without fail. You're sure Joost knows what he’s doing, what with the way he smiles that same little smile every time. 

Bastard.

It’s not like you can blame him for any of it. You want him too.

One day though, a few weeks before Christmas, Joost is forced to pause his efforts. It’s a cold and gray afternoon, and though there’s no snow on the ground, every shop and every home has wreaths and candles on doors and in windows. It’s impossible not to notice what time of year it is and when Joost comes knocking, all bundled and breathless and confused why you aren’t at the cafe, he can tell immediately that something is wrong. 

It’s a bad day, really no other way to put it. It’s your little sister’s birthday and for the third time ever, you won’t be there. 

She was a brat really, but you loved her and she is one of the few things that always makes you think of home. That wasn’t true at first, when you spent the first few months missing all your friends and family something awful. But after you literally killed and ate someone, the fear of discovery and the fear of hurting them drove your travels farther and farther until before long, you felt like you were doing the right thing. 

Besides, the world was too big and too detailed to miss out on. Too vibrant in all of your new senses to spend your time sulking over what could never be. Most days now, home was just a passing thought. Still, your sister never fully left your mind, and on this one day every year you have been gone, you can never help but let your mind drift over what is and what could have been. 

Joost can tell the second you open the door. You let him in without fuss, but when you answer his probing questions with little more than noncommittal grunts and squeeze him far too tight when he goes in for a hug, he starts to adjust his demeanor. He follows you into the kitchen and you shut your laptop, still open with the work you had been using for distraction.

“So, you don’t usually pass up the gift of my presence, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m good. I just have a lot going on with work. Sorry I forgot to tell you I wasn’t gonna be there.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

A pause.

“I've seen you stressed about work. Usually you’re asking me to help you find a file or proofread an email…”

“Yeah, okay, yeah. I’m a little distracted.”

“With what?”

“With-” you allow yourself to lean against him. He’s saddled up behind you as you finally come to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. His arms come around your waist and you let out a bone-rattling sigh. There’s few places you’d rather be than in his arms, but the knowledge that even that is something you're still trying to allow yourself to have makes it hard for it to feel like a comfort right now.

“-with things at home. There are things I left behind that I can’t go back to.”

“You wish you could?”

“Sometimes.”

“You miss someone?”

“Yeah.” 

Fuck it. There’s so much you’ve already told him. Why not this.

“My sister.”

His grip relaxes slightly. You didn’t realize it had become tense. “Oh. I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yeah.”

“I have a sister too. I don’t see her very often but it’s not because I can’t or anything. I don’t know what it would be like to not have the option.”

“Yeah.” You sniff. It seems to be the only thing you can say.

He squeezes you tight again when he hears it. “Wanna…talk about it?”

“No, not right now. I’ve been thinking about it all day and there’s nothing I can do so I might as well stop.”

“Okay. Wanna do something with me? Wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, how about Spiderman?” 

He knows you so well by now.

Joost coaxes you back to his apartment. Away from your work and to what you have to admit after many movie marathons is a home cinema setup superior to your own. The perfection of the couch-pillow-foot rest-cup holder placement leaves you unable to turn down the journey when the ride is only ten minutes.

Tonight, you watch Far From Home. Though you always cycle through the Spiderman movies, it’s the one you saw with your friends the night you turned, and somehow it's the one you always come back to. You’ve never told Joost you prefer it but he’s noticed anyway, and tonight he pulls it out before you can ask. By the time Peter Parker gets knocked out by Mysterio and accidentally arrives in the Netherlands via train, you're in Joost’s lap, clinging on with arms slung around his neck and face pressed into his chest, barely watching. Being sad does wonders for not being riled by his closeness. 

He holds you right back, hands at your waist, occasionally pressing light kisses to your hair as he comments on the inaccuracies of the movie’s Dutch portrayal.

“Y’know we do love soccer but honestly, no one is so super happy like this, especially not if you’re stuck in jail.”

You just hold him tighter. It’s been hours now in Joost’s presence and finally, you feel yourself unwinding. Just like always, Joost is the best distraction you’ve ever encountered. Your teeth itch of course, what with your face so close to his throat, but you ignore it so you can savor the feeling of him wrapped around you. Joost is sweeter than you could have ever asked for. So often wants to know about your problems and offers up his time to solve them. Provides his presence and his affection when he can’t. 

Not that you have many problems. Your tech issues present the majority. 

Still, here and now, he's trying to fix everything just like he always does and it is with a deep shudder from yourself that he starts to rub your shoulders. His hands smooth down your back to your hips and back up again, reminiscent of the moments in front of cafes and shops where you always have your moment of initial acclimation. Now, there is no pressure to the moment, no rush to get yourself under control. All you have to do is relax further into his hold and let his big hot hands melt sensation into your flesh. 

A sort of tingle accompanies his hands wherever they go. Up and down and up again. They knead at the muscles of your lower back before working their way up either side of your spine with gentle compressions of his knuckles. One big palm cups the back of your neck when his ministrations make it to the top and he takes a moment to inhale deeply from your hair. The motions repeat over and over, up and down and back again. You would be letting him know exactly how much his efforts are appreciated if those efforts weren’t completely melting your mind.

Lingering in that liminal goo-brain space for what feels like hours, it occurs to you that every pass over your hips is gradually getting lower. Every time he works his way down your spine, his thick fingers splay just a little further over the swell of your ass. You let him do it, fully on board with the feelings it’s inspiring in your core and too strung-out to think of why there might be any reason not to indulge. 

Before long, his hands are fully cupping your ass with every pass. Each time he spends a moment squeezing lightly before continuing the cycle. After a couple more circuits, he finally breaks the pattern and stops to hold each cheek in one huge hand, pulling back from your hair to make eye contact, asking silent permission. You hold his gaze, unable to think further than the lazy, slow, creeping want he inspires. He made you so comfortable, so pliant and soft, why would you ever do anything other than what he wants? You slump forward to mouth at his jaw, forgetting yourself, and his heart stutters. His hands slide lower to the back of each thigh and his fingertips brush over your slit. It’s the first time he’s ever done anything quite so direct since that moment under the bridge and it makes you moan so loud that he pulls back once more to get a read on your face.

“Is this okay?”

“Mmm, yeah.” It’s hard to remember why such a question makes sense. His fingertips, so close to where you need them, make higher processes a herculean effort. Still, your brain is the stuff of legends, and you pull it together to consider what he means. 

“Fuck, uhhnh, gimme a sec.”

His hands don’t leave their precarious position, but make no further move. In the meantime, his mouth fills in the gap. ‘You know I bought something else. After the ball gag I mean. I was thinking handcuffs kinda do the same thing but, y’know, less drool.” He smiles sheepishly. “We don’t have to use them, I just wanted to tell you. It could keep your mouth away from me if I stayed down here.” he squeezes with both hands for emphasis.

“Oh.” With the strong departure from the sadness that had been consuming you and the reminder of all Joost represents, you are quickly coming back to awareness. Your gums ache in a way they haven’t for quite a while now, the tug behind your eyes making a return. “I- how would that work?”

“If I cuff you to the headboard and stay down here-”

Another squeeze for demonstrative purposes,

“-then your teeth will never come near me. We can’t kiss, after a point, but we can do other stuff. There are a lot of things I want to do to you.”

“Okay, I’m with you, but you would need like a steel headboard or something. I’ve seen the IKEA particle board slats you have going on.”

“I may have- uh, I may have bought that too.”

Oh he is a freak.

Your smile is all Joost needs to scramble to shut off the movie and scoop you up like it’s nothing, mouth on yours like a man starved. You cling to his shoulders as he slowly walks you back through the apartment. It’s a miracle you make it when he can’t be bothered to look where he’s going. 

Somehow, he neither bangs your elbow nor your knee on a door frame and all of a sudden the world shifts as you are deposited onto his bed with a bounce. True to his word, it’s a new bed. Same dark blue comforter and faded Minecraft bed sheets but a new frame with solid metal bars. He lets you look while he fiddles with something on the bookshelf before turning back to you with a ‘clink’. 

The handcuffs, equally metal and solid, glint in the low light of his bedroom. You’ve never been into bondage per se, but just about anything Joost wants, you find yourself wanting too. His enthusiasm never gets old. Even if the bed and the cuffs are just a means to an end, Joost picked them out for you, he picked them out and bought them because after all this time dancing around each other, he still wants to fuck you so badly. 

The tug behind your eyes is irresistible like never before. This time, you don’t fight it.

Joost takes you in, eyes wide and wanton, fixed on your own dark pools. He gives a shuddering sigh and unclicks the cuffs. “Oh, liefje, let’s start with this.”

The simple endearment used for the first time short-circuits any intelligent response. There are no words. You scoot up the bed, overcome by the word still bouncing around your skull and the hunger evident in his scent. Laying back slowly, you lift your arms above your head as he crawls over you. 

Something about the position feels a little strange, but the thought leaves as quickly as it came when you’re distracted by cold metal clicking into place. He adjusts the cuffs gently, one on each wrist with the chain hooked around a thick steel post of the headboard. A good tug proves them to be durable and Joost lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. 

Though the bedside lamp is dim, the blue of his eyes practically glows as he removes his glasses and lays them on the nightstand to admire what’s laid out before him.

It’s obvious all too soon that there are drawbacks to the position. You can’t lean up to kiss him, at least not much, can’t reach out to touch him and tuck a bright blond strand behind his ear or cup a cheek and trace his pouty bottom lip. You need to, if you're being honest. Need to touch him and hold him and kiss him and tell him there is no one else you would ever want to do this with. You don’t even know what that means, since there haven’t exactly been other options, but you know it’s true. 

Joost watches your squirming with increasing amusement as you test the limits of your bonds. Finally, mercifully, he parts your thighs and presses flush against you to capture your mouth. Your legs wrap around him immediately, holding him the only way you can. His scent is just as potent as it was that night under the bridge and quickly becoming stronger. It’s a good thing you’re cuffed because your willpower is already softening.

As overwhelmed as you are already, your teeth haven't dropped yet and you're thankful as he all but steals the breath from you. The increasingly desperate press of your mouths is all that's keeping you from begging him to get on with it. You never thought you would be one to beg, but here with Joost above you, presence all encompassing and hips slotted into the cradle of your own like he belongs there, you think you would.

In the end you don’t have to. Joost pulls away all too suddenly and the hands braced at either side of your head come down to toy at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?”

“Please!”

The transparent need in your demand short-circuits him for a moment. He says nothing, huge pupils unblinking for several long seconds before they snap down to fix on the stripe of skin that gets wider and wider as tattooed fingers slowly peel the shirt up your stomach. It would have been smart to get undressed first, but you’re both a bit beyond reason and you do your best to help as he drags it up above your head to tangle around your wrists. He pauses again to drink you in, more bare skin than he’s had the opportunity to see yet. So much of the past months has been little more than kisses. His hands trace their way back down, over your sternum and your belly until they reach the hem of your lounge pants.

Joost doesn’t ask this time, just meets your eyes and takes the nod you give without words. He removes them much easier than the shirt and whips them away to land somewhere to be found later. Hot palms smooth up your thighs and a single finger hooks into the elastic waistband of your panties. The whine you let out as soon as he does it sends him scrambling and they are quickly tossed away to join the pants. 

Huge hands brace themselves against your inner thighs and you're made to bend your knees up to accommodate. It spreads you wide, everything on display. It’s been so long since anyone has seen you like this it’s borderline embarrassing, but the way his scent picks up and his pupils nearly eclipse their blue border makes it all worth it. He crawls forward to give you a single deep kiss.

“All good?” He breathes against your lips.

“All good.”

He shuffles back down and starts laying more kisses against your inner thighs. 

You know exactly where this is going. 

Joost’s overture that day in the cafe never strays too far from your mind. If you were wet before, now you’re positively dripping. It starts to run down your ass and you wonder if he will notice, see your desperation made flesh. It’s unlikely, what with the way his eyes are shut tight and his brow is slack with bliss. He’s getting exactly what he wants. Joost laves a hot stripe over the skin closest to the junction of your thigh, pauses for one maddening moment, then turns to lick into where you need him most without warning. 

Your gasp is more of a shout.

He groans in response and hooks an arm around each thigh before you can squirm away, the wet, slippery friction on your clit so intense you almost try to. He starts out with deep, long licks directly over it before he goes anywhere else, straight to the punch without teasing. After what feels like far too much and nowhere near enough, he gives one long lick through your folds and shifts his focus lower. He lingers over your entrance, the flat of his tongue seals tight to the rim, textured buds undulating against the delicate skin making you writhe. He does it again and again, taking breaks to pull back and run the tip around the edge, tracing and circling before latching to it yet again with a wet ‘smack’. Normal breathing is becoming impossible and when your thighs have been tensed so long they start to shake, he dips it in. 

There’s no telling what undoubtedly guttural noise you make because you are too busy wrestling with the sensation of blood blooming across your tongue and iron filling your sinuses. Every teasing nudge inside your pussy sends your fangs digging deeper into your lip. 

The brief agitation from earlier has returned, but now you know what it is. There’s nothing actually wrong, it’s just so much harder to bite lying on your back. The urge you usually manage to suppress is now front and center of all thought. As always, pleasure seems inextricably tied to predation. You need to pin Joost and bite him and feel him struggle but you also need his delicious weight on top of you and his hands around you and his tongue inside you and you can’t have both. You feel insane.

Joost’s groans are heavy, the vibrations rolling through you as he lazily pumps his tongue deeper, nose grinding into your swollen clit. He settles into a pattern. Deep, languid tongue-fucking followed by licks to either sider of your bud, close but not close enough, before directly grinding the flat of his tongue into it a few times and then starting the process all over again. 

The cuffs are fighting a battle of their own above you. Every time Joost switches targets the headboard gives a heavy creak. You hardly notice. It’s taking all your remaining brain power just to try not to squeeze him too hard with your thighs. Though, it might be okay since every time you do he lets out a groan, far too pleased for what is probably a legitimate threat to his skull. Blood drips down your chin now, your canines deep in your bottom lip when you hear it:

A shuffle.

A rustle.

A slight sway to the mattress.

He takes your clit between his lips and sucks hard. The bedsprings give a pathetic wheeze as your head slams back and your spine arches as a squeal rips out of you. 

The rhythmic swaying picks up the pace.

When Joost finally gives you a second of reprieve to kiss at your thigh, hot heavy breaths fanning over you, the gentle swaying continues. Puzzled, you find the willpower to lift your head and shakily unlock your thighs from where they have become earmuffs. It’s hard to place it at first, the incessant tongue back on your skin and sharp iron in your mouth more than distracting, but then you notice. 

Gently, 

slowly, 

almost tenderly, 

Joost’s hips roll down into the mattress.

It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

The way his brow has started to knit as he ruts instinctively, pleasure seeping up his spine as he gets off on your own. The way his hips jerk softly like he isn’t even aware, like his body is just making him do it. The way his sweats have slid down to reveal the dark material of his boxers, snug against the muscles of his ass that are working insistently. 

You can’t handle it. You have to do something, anything. Your hands whip down to bury your fingers in his hair as you grind up into his mouth and lose your mind.

Your fingers in…his hair?

He flinches. Makes a pathetic noise as he withdraws his tongue. The sudden hard stop to the blissful sensation all the more highlights the bright red sheeting from his brow.

In your pleasure, the cuffs ripped like paper. Both loops are still attached but the chain, now broken, swings freely from your right wrist, bloody from where it lanced him deep across the temple.

Oh.

Fuck.

Joost has never bled in front of you before. Not a single scratch or cut, not even a hangnail. 

It's like hearing colors or tasting music. Now that the source of his scent isn’t trapped under his skin, it is so much more potent than you could have ever prepared for. You could never have built a tolerance to this. 

The sudden certainty of a guaranteed meal, the knowledge that your strength is superior, that you've won, it overwhelms you in an instant and the sureness of it almost leaves you calm. You're going to get what you want. There's nothing that could possibly stop you. And why should it? 

The only thing that keeps you from destroying him on the spot is the look on his face.

It’s all happening within seconds. He’s still mid-recoil. His face screws up now that the pain is starting to register, blank confusion twisting to stricken agony. 

It’s nothing like you imagined. 

Those nights alone when you think about Joost and can’t quite control that deep, savage part of your mind, the part that's been there ever since you woke up bloody in the middle of the street all those years ago, you never imagined it like this. That inhuman part of you was sure his pain would be something beautiful. Even if the logical majority of you protested, somewhere deep down, you always expected it to be true. 

Maybe it’s the added shock of the sudden blow, maybe it’s just the wrong kind of pain, but the hurt on his face is terrible. Not pleasure-pain like when you press on a bruise you accidentally gave him the day before and he can’t help the way his eyelids flutter, not like when your sharp nails dig into his back when you go in for a kiss and he picks you up and you have to hold on tight as he groans into your mouth.

Just pain.

Your heart folds in.

You’re rolling off the bed and shooting to your feet before Joost can even look at you, too busy staring at the blood on his fingers as he draws them back from his forehead, shaking. It’s physically painful to turn away. You grab your phone with enough force to rattle the night stand and make yourself walk towards the door. Every sense is cranked to eleven and every reflex and muscle fiber is dialed in. All strength and no precision as you work against your instincts. Every base impulse is screaming at you to turn back and take what is right in front of you. There’s no running away this time, just brute force resistance.

There’s so much blood.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m gonna get someone, just stay there. Stay there.” The words are choked as you use every ounce of willpower to force yourself into the hall. You don’t know if he hears you and you can’t afford to look back to check. His gasps of pain almost sound erotic now without the visual evidence of his suffering and it makes you want to turn around and devour him. When you recognize the thought, you hate yourself just a little.

You wrestle into your long winter coat and manage not to break the front door as you unlock it. Joost calls out your name just before it slams shut behind you.

Outside in the cold, damp, wind whipped darkness, there is enough of a disconnect from what’s inside that you can feel control come back online. 

You want to run but you make yourself walk, thankful your coat covers your bare ass, as you prioritize sending a cryptic but detailed text to 112 and then dialing the one other person that can possibly help. Tantu answers on the third ring.

“Tantu. I need you to check on Joost. I need you to go over to his place right now and it can’t wait.”

“What? What do you mean? Did he call you?”

“No it’s- Tantu please just do it. Please. Will you check on him?”

“Yes, yeah, I will, what’s going on?”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes! I’m putting on my coat! Tell me what’s wrong!”

“Please hurry, Tantu.”

You hang up, cutting off what sounds like a curse. 

He’s a good friend, you can tell. It’s a good thing you have his number. You don’t know any of Joost’s other friends. Honestly, you barely know Tantu. Joost talks about them often and with love but you’ve just never met them. 

It’s mostly Joost’s efforts to try not to spook you, to ease you into knowing him without pressure. You let it slip once that you try not to make close connections for practical reasons and he let up on group invites quickly, if a little disappointed. Anything to keep you around and unwilling to gamble with being the exception.

The trill of your phone makes you slow once more. 

It’s Joost.

He’s okay. Okay enough to call at least. Hopefully emergency medical or Tantu gets there soon.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Your phone continues to buzz as he calls again. 

And then again.

You wanted to see if this could work, whatever this is. It felt possible once. Felt like one day you would say yes to meeting his friends, like you would feel close enough to ask him about his past and maybe even tell him the full truth about yours, felt like one day you might finally adjust enough to be able to love him properly. 

Because you do love him. 

You’ve known it and denied it but you do.

You do and it didn't stop you. Such a small mistake, made so easily and unconsciously and almost the end of his life.

You love him and that’s why as you walk down the street, completely enveloped in abyssal shadow, no moon in sight, you know that when you get home you’re going to pack your things.

[iscdisc]

The Farmhouse Arc should've been the most significant character growth period for 2012 April as a character, and I kind of wanted to talk about that- Lmao

I apologize for not for recalling the user who's post I saw talking about this (I'll definitely @ them if I end up finding them / their post again-), but I recently came across somebody mentioning how they felt 2012 April should have experienced some self-loathing during The Farmhouse Arc given the whole Irma / Kraang Invasion situation-

I completely agree ! But that made me want to expand on that in my own way, because this is something that I genuinely enjoy getting into since there was so much potential (As most things in 2012 have-) that just didn't used,,

Since we've already established time and time again with this series that the writing is not as good as it could be, it "makes sense" that April barely felt any guilt outside of the initial S2 finale and the mistakes that she made don't even get brought up during the aftermath that is the Farmhouse Arc (If we're really being honest, they don't even really get brought up during the initial Season 2 finale- 💀). But if the show had better writing, April should have and would have felt more guilt / had that guilt be very apparent throughout the Farmhouse Arc in how she moves and talks to the Turtles + Casey during their stay there. Not to say that everything was entirely her fault, such as Irma being Kraang Subprime in disguise (She didn't ask for that nor did she cause that to happen-), but it should be acknowledged that their lack of an upper hand feels attributed to her actions the most in this particular Season finale.

I mean, honestly what was she even doing-?? I'm not trying to necessarily give a pass to Casey here, since I know that he was also goofing off / not taking things as seriously as he should have been even though he technically was helping Raph search for Karai- But at least he was with Raph, you know what I mean? Raph and Casey (technically) were searching the city for Karai as it means of protecting her and keeping her safe from the imminent Kraang Invasion (They were also looking for her post her mutation in general, but it was especially dire now-), Leo and Donnie (and Mikey technically-) are in the Lair deliberating on courses of action (Both on options to confront the incoming Kraang Invasion but also means of a safety net, something that Leo in particular was stressing they have outside of the city-). What is April doing during this time? What was her big contribution to this incoming threat? Hanging out with Irma. Like what- Lmao

I understand that like a lot of things that this show has 2012 April do or say, it's just used as a plot device or something to push the narrative that they're going for (Which is incredibly irritating, since it basically sacrifices any good character writing for her so that they can just move the plot along- Regardless of whether or not it makes sense for her as a character to do or not do- But I digress.), and this is just another example of that. But I would be lying if I said this particular aspect of the S2 finale has never made a lick of sense to me, even to this day. A second attempt at a Kraang Invasion is literally on the horizon, and instead of being with her team + actively helping / contributing in some way to this inevitable issue, April's hanging out with Irma-? The writers don't even give any context prior either, like the two of them coming from the movie theater or April's home or something. They provide no explanation as to why April's even spending her time with Irma in this moment.

Which, just like most things in this show, I'm not even saying that that had to have been a poor choice? This is why context is important- If they had shown April clearly stewing over the incoming Kraang Invasion as she's on her way to meet up with everybody else to discuss their options and Irma "just so happened" to essentially ambush April with her presence, thus making April feel obligated to entertain her for the time being? That would have made a lot more sense. It also would have been a great way to foreshadow the events to come in relation to Irma, since there would have been a clear atmosphere change and some unspoken reason as to why Irma wants her attention so badly right now- It also wouldn't have taken up a lot of runtime in my opinion, so I don't understand why they didn't do something like that? 💀

But to not derail from the initial point, (Given the poor writing, I know-) April basically brings a bunch of chaos to the Turtles (and Casey) and quite literally does the bare minimum about it. When she (unintentionally) reveals their home to the enemy, what does she do throughout that entire ambush? Hide. She doesn't even make any attempts to fight off the Kraang that are flooding into the Liar and essentially destroying their home.

What did she do after they escaped the sewers? Take them to her apartment, which initially was just meant to help Donnie get patched up before revisiting the chaos she (unintentionally) created, but instead April ends up staying in her apartment with her cowardly Father-?? For way longer than she should have. I understand that April does not control Donnie and it's not / shouldn't be her role to influence his decisions, but it was also upsetting to know that she was basically the reason Donnie was so inactive (Since he refused to "leave her side" or whatever-) and this in turn caused Mikey to also be inactive because (Rightfully so??) he's not going to go out there by himself- So April (more or less) was the reason why the three of them did nothing but wait around in her apartment until Raph and Casey arrived. She technically "did something" during the fight (more or less) with Kraang Prime in the Turtle Mech, but that only partially counts to me because that was more of a group effort (Since it's ideal for four people to be working the robot and she pulled like one lever or something like that- Lmao).

And of course, there was that psychic freakout that she had at the end of the S2 finale, but those never count to me because that's not something that she's consciously making an effort to do- If that makes sense? If April wasn't this special Human + Kraang Mutant Hybrid, she would just be freaking out like a regular person, and that would have done nothing for them- You know what I mean? (I really loathe these psychic freakouts that the writers have April do for this very reason-)

If you really pick apart April's role in the S2 finale, she mostly escalates the situation and does very very little to alleviate any of it or contribute positively in some way. Again, I acknowledge this is a poor writing decision and most likely influenced by their want to move the plot along and make this season finale "really dramatic"- But that doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to acknowledge it for what it is. Lmao

That being said though, I can now circle back to the topic at hand, which is that the Farmhouse Arc should've been a huge growth period or her as a character. ESPECIALLY in regards to her relationships with the Brothers and Casey.

The S2 finale should have been a situation that caused the group to view April differently. Not in the sense that they view her as an enemy or something of that nature, more that they're finally more openly acknowledging that she makes a lot of mistakes. Mistakes that they (More so the Brothers than Casey-) usually suffer the brunt of the consequences of. This is something that I feel is very apparent with her character (S2 the most-), and while that isn't a bad thing since a lot of characters in 2012 make mistakes, it's very obvious that the main group responds incredibly differently to her mistakes than any other character's mistakes. She's never forced to dwell on her wrongdoings or missteps, nor does the group ever harp on them or make her feel guilty for a prolonged duration of time like they do with other characters. We see this constantly throughout the series. The Brothers and Casey are always quick with their reassurance and understanding, always quick to tell her it isn't a big deal or that they got it handled, etc.

While it's not necessarily a bad thing to support her or make efforts to prevent her from developing a lack of self confidence, there's a fine line between giving support and coddling a person. Oftentimes, I feel like this teeters into the coddling side of things rather than genuinely supporting her. They essentially treat her like a child (so to speak), in the sense that they'd rather her believe that she "didn't do anything wrong" and that *everything's okay" instead of being honest when she makes mistakes or acts in ways that genuinely upsets them or off puts them.

THIS?? The S2 finale / Kraang Invasion?? This 1000% should have been the boiling point, and Raph in particular should've been the one to tip over the metaphorical pot. A theory that I have for the S2 finale going into the Farmhouse Arc that I believe holds up very well is Raph and Casey not being privy to the fact that April caused a lot of the chaos that they experienced during that finale. Of course, once they initially left New York City, their priorities were more focused on getting to safety (the O'Neil Farmhouse) and helping Leo in some way / shape / or / form giving his uncertain condition health wise. So it makes sense that this wasn't a topic of conversation immediately. However, it would not surprise me in the slightest if Donnie had made the decision to not tell Raph and Casey about what had transpired in the Lair that day (Or at the very least not the whole story, which would include April's involvement-). Convincing Mikey (And somewhat April-) to do the same. Because why wouldn't he? April's always been his top priority, and if not telling Raph and Casey the truth means protecting her, then he most likely will do that. Because I'm sure he knows Raph would be pissed beyond belief.

AND AS HE SHOULD BE- Hello?? If Raph found out that the reason why the Kraang Invasion began sooner than they planned thus causing them to be incredibly unprepared / their Lair got discovered and destroyed by said Kraang Invasion / Leo got separated from the group (And took on Shredder alone, but I fully acknowledge that that wasn't April's fault, I feel like that was a really stupid call on Leo's part during this finale-) / Splinter got separated from the group and this causing a domino effect that led him to confronting Shredder and being thrown further into the sewers and Raph ( + Donnie / Mikey / and April-) witnessing that horrific event was because of APRIL -?? Regardless of whether or not it was an accident, I think he would have a right to be upset with her. Because like I said before, she's had a lot of accidents that they've had to clean up before.

So just picturing Raph chewing her out at The Farmhouse and finally addressing how upset he's been with her in the past but bit his tongue so many times because she's supposed to be their friend?? That's "Chef's Kiss" tier conflict in my opinion. I genuinely feel like something of this nature was meant to happen and should have happened. A mistake of this caliber should have affected her relationships with them. Of course, Raph is the only one that I truly see being so unapologetically upset with April over this. Casey and Mikey would probably fall under some kind of murky mix of emotions, where they understand why they should be upset with her and to a degree they are, but they don't necessarily want to isolate her or cut her out of their lives- You know? I feel like their body language around her would be the biggest tell though, especially Mikey's, which I think would hurt April a lot (But it's not like she's really in a position to argue against it,,). I also think it would hurt Mikey a lot too, since being in this kind of position would make him incredibly uncomfortable for sure and I'd imagine he wouldn't like the way he's instinctively reacting to her presence nowadays,,

Donnie, of course, would be the only one "acting the same" towards April / around April. But deep down I think even he knows that something has changed between them, something that he would be in denial about for a majority of their stay there. I think this would have been a really great way to progress their relationship though- Both in the context of pushing for their romantic relationship (Which again, I personally am not a huge fan of 2012 Apritello, but I also don't want to exclude these things-) but also dismantling it entirely. On one hand, I think this would have been a really unique way to finally get Donnie to view April as an individual rather than simply the "object of his affections". Fully allowing those rose-colored glasses to be put aside for a second, you know? This should have been an event that tested his (so called) love for April in my eyes. Because if he doesn't love her and value her as a person, especially when she's at her lowest or has made some of her biggest mistakes (Ones that directly affect him-), then can he really say he loved her at all? I also think this should have been a great arc for Donnie as far as not making excuses for April anymore, since this is a bad habit he's (seemingly) nurtured. Learning that it's okay to be critical of her and these criticisms not drastically influencing their relationship or his affections towards her. But I can also see this skewing the complete opposite direction, and this finally being the event that ends the crush saga all together-

I personally felt like this was a very realistic possibility, since Donnie's crush on April is very surface level (He only "fell" for April because she was the first girl he witnessed upon leaving his home for the first time + he thought she was very pretty. He never makes any genuine attempts to get to know her as a person, and this feels very apparent given his behaviors and actions towards her. When he made his chart to "successfully get April to hang out with him" back in S1, everything that he listed had everything to do with himself and nothing to do with her or her interests. He didn't even try to guess or do any kind of process of elimination for her interests through his conversations / interactions with her. Also during S1, Donnie makes the bold assumption that April will like him simply because her Father is also a scientist- Which has absolutely nothing to do with April as an individual and there's no real correlation as to why she would "like him more" simply because he's similar to her Father / Father's profession? During this exact Season, when we see him gift her the music box that he made for her in, "A Foot Too Big" / S3 EP 2 /, April clearly looks uncomfortable for very obvious reasons but another thing that comes to mind is whether or not she even likes music boxes-?? There's no real explanation as to why he thought this would be a good gift for her- 💀). So to me, it makes sense that having his Rose colored glasses shattered / having a situation that practically forces Donnie to truly see her as an individual who's flawed and makes mistakes like this one would cause his crush on her to essentially evaporate instantly. Because what was his crush / infatuation founded on in the first place-? You know what I mean? I can also see his crush dissipating because of April and how she's handling this entire situation. I can see her handling it poorly in two different senses, the first being that she becomes very overly sensitive and defensive (Since Raph blowing up on her would be a massive hit to her pride, and as we've seen throughout the series, she's built up a pretty big ego just as much as the other characters have-) or she becomes very detached and blunt. Something that would cause her to become more openly honest with Donnie about how she views him and their relationship, that being that they just don't really have one- Finally being able to speak on how his advances make her feel and how they aren't necessarily wanted a majority of the time. :/

But now that I've established how I feel the other main characters should've responded towards April post the S2 finale / entering the S3 Farmhouse Arc (Minus Leo whose in a coma-), it's finally time to talk about how I feel April should have carried herself during this arc. Which would be BUILDING / REBUILDING HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE OTHER MEMBERS OF THIS TEAM (Minus Leo, but also technically him to just after he wakes up from his coma-). One of my biggest gripes with 2012 April in relation to the group as a whole is her lack of proper dynamic with most of her teammates. Casey is honestly the only exception to this, since we do see her get more significant bonding moments with Casey / she does get a lot of one on one screentime with him on particular- But even that could use some work too. April doesn't feel like an actual friend to any of them, and that's always been something that bothers me considering how highly they regard her as a person and how much they trust her / how much they put their faith in her. It would make sense to properly establish where that trust and praise even stems from, you know what I mean? But since the writers suck ass, you can essentially just chalk this up to her being the titular girl character and therefore she "deserves this treatment" canonically. I hate that reasoning and think it's really dumb. :) Lmao

I'm not saying the entire Farmhouse Arc needed to be so April centric (Since 2012 already feels like the Leonardo and April O'Neil show a majority of the time- 💀), but I don't think it could have hurt to have a majority of those episodes have significant moments between April and a particular Brother / Casey. With Mikey and April, I think it would have been really great for April to validate his feelings and reinforce the fact that it's okay for him to be upset with people. That doesn't mean that he has to hate them forever or hold grudges like a lot of people in his life do (I can also imagine that's the biggest reason why he's so uncomfortable with the possibility that he's holding a grudge against April, since his entire life revolves around this stupid grudge between his Father and his Uncle- Because Shredder basically is their uncle and I hate that that isn't acknowledged more?? That's like top tier family drama angst right there- Lmao). But it's also not healthy for him to essentially pretend as though he doesn't feel emotions like anger and frustration and disappointment. I think it would have been really cool for April to validate his thoughts and opinions, with this being used to build a better relationship between them and result in Mikey learning to trust April once again (Not that he necessarily lost his trust in her but it felt complicated for a while-). We can also get more screentime of April loosening up and doing fun / silly things, since I'm sure Mikey would bring out that side of her ! I also think Mikey should have been the one to help her with her psychic abilities instead of Donnie, I don't know if that's a hot take but- LMAO

Like I said earlier, I don't think April didn't have a relationship with Casey but I think this situation would help strengthen it for sure. To be honest though, I don't see April necessarily needing to make a lot of amends with Casey (Aside from his Father and younger Sister getting abducted as well, and maybe this could be a good way for Casey to be able to actually talk about his family with someone onscreen-). But I do like the idea of April going to Casey a lot during the situation for advice- To have an outside looking in perspective, you know what I mean? Especially with Raph and how to fix that mess,, But this would be a great way to show how much April values Casey as a friend and respects his opinion / appreciates the fact that he's always been a shoulder for her to cry on or vent to. I also want Casey to reinforce this idea that she doesn't need to be this "perfect person". This whole character development period for her should be about that in general, but I feel like Casey / her interactions with Casey should highlight this theme the most. I think April should be able to express how difficult it's been to come to terms with the fact that she's not where she wants to be or who she thought she was, with Casey throwing out the idea that maybe that was never who she was meant to be. That it's never too late to reinvent yourself or be a different person, one that you better reflects who you are. I basically just want Casey to reinforce her individualism the most !

I'm biased, so I prefer the situation dissipating Donnie's crush on April, and for that to build a new foundation for a relationship. A platonic relationship. Donnie never truly interacted with April as a friend, always interacting with her as his crush or infatuation, you know what I mean? He read into every interaction they had, everything he did felt as though it had some romantic strings attached or implications. He needs to let that go, for sure. I think they could have had a really cool dynamic if this had happened. The writers also could have better explored April's intelligent side, the one that they constantly like to associate with her character but I feel doesn't always hold up (Not only because a lot of her "character traits" feel reliant on the plot of an episode, making them incredibly inconsistent, but I've always compared April's intelligence level to Leo's rather than Donnie's. You know what I mean?). If April actually has an interest in S.T.E.M. the way the writers like to imply that she does, then this would have been a really good thing for her too ! I honestly don't have much to say aside from this though, because I don't necessarily see a lot of friendship scenarios for April and Donnie-? I know that's kind of sad, but I've personally never envisioned them being super close-? 😭

Raph is my favorite aspect of this entire hypothetical concept though. Not only does it include the satisfaction (For me, yes-) of a character rightfully telling April off for once and April actually having to face the repercussions of something that she's done for an indefinite amount of time, but this also simultaneously feeds into my take that April and Raph should have been a lot closer than they actually were- To talk about this a little better, I'm including some old WIPs of a comic I made exploring this idea (I guess technically I'm still making it-? I haven't worked on it in a while,, 😔) !

I'll do my best to not infodump about the entire story that I envisioned for this comic (Cause it's a lot and this post is already lengthy enough- Lmao), but to provide some context for these specific panels: After Raph explodes on April after finding out what actually transpired during the S2 finale / takes the time to throw in the fact that she's pretty incompetent a majority of the time and it's upsetting the constantly have to clean up after her, April (somewhat understandably) gets in her feelings and it's pretty upset about the situation overall. She ends up running into a conflict with some people by herself in the woods while taking a walk to get some fresh air (It was over a missing mutagen canister and I kind of envisioned these people being similar to "The Finger" from the Bigfoot episode- Like, just weirdos- Lmao), and as you can tell from the comic she pretty much gets her ass handed to her. This is when Raph's words really started to set in for her and she felt honestly disappointed with herself. But instead of kicking her while she's down or fanning the flames, Raph opens up to her instead-

With that little bit of context out of the way, I really love this idea that seeing April like this would result in Raph wanting to open up to her. Why? Because he sees himself in her. Especially right now. Seeing her so frustrated with herself, April wanting to do more than she's physically capable of doing as she is now, feeling weak and helpless ,, He's been there. Many many times. So he starts to empathize with her and his anger simmers a bit.

He opens up about his role in this team, and how a majority of the time he only feels good for punching and hitting people. Like that's all he's capable of. He talks about how he feels so insignificant when the solution isn't hitting people, or even if there is someone to hit that doesn't change anything or resolve the issue. He's not smart like Donnie, he's not warm and compassionate like Mikey, he's not a symbol for people to follow like Leo. In these ways, he understands wanting to do more and being so angry when facing the reality that you can't. Or rather, as you are right now, you can't.

This is more of a personal headcanon for me, but I'd imagine that it took rough a lot of effort and dedication to get the build that he currently has / maintains. I wouldn't be surprised if it took him quite some time to build up that body mass, you know what I mean? So I was also going to reference that at some point in relation to Raph talking about not being where you want to be yet- How for years, he felt so weak compared to Splinter and that upset him,, But it also motivated him to be the person that he currently is + why he takes training more seriously than everybody else. Because he was tired of feeling weak.

This basically segways into Raph helping April with her training during the Farmhouse Arc and this being the most significant way in which they build their new relationship with each other ! He's a little impressed with April's dedication to improving too, which also helps him view April differently / give them something in common. When they return to New York City, I'm sure April would want to feel confident in herself and capable of fixing this mess- Raph getting her there feels like a no brainer to me. I'd also include moments where they're not training and just hanging out regularly during their stay at the Farmhouse ! Something that admittedly would've taken some convincing on April's part, since even though I said Raph's anger simmered, that doesn't mean that it completely vanished right away. But eventually he'd agree to it and slowly let April in again. Maybe not even again though, since they didn't really have a relationship prior to this in my eyes (Nor do they interact a lot canonically as it is-). So this would honestly feel like Raph letting April in for the very first time-! 😭

Also, of course I'm going to be throwing in some hints of 2012 Raphril here and there within this comic- This is me we're talking about- LMAO 💛❤️

I also totally address Donnie's behaviors towards April / his (Most likely unintentional?) misogynistic tendencies. How his coddling of her harms her rather than helps her. His lack of respect for her choices and her autonomy (Specifically referencing, "Within the Woods" where he blatantly acknowledges that April is interested in Casey but instead of respecting that, he feels the need to "prove to her" that she's wrong-?? For not choosing him, basically- 💀). His unhealthy possessives over her as a person. Etc. ! 😔👍

Sorry this was another lengthy yap post-! Basically I agree that April should've had more focus in relation to the S2 finale aftermath like that person was talking about, but I also think the Farmhouse Arc should've better established April's relationships within the group- Idk- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ Lmao

[revserrayyu]

3.1 Amphoreus thoughts [part 1]

***Spoilers ahead*** for everything covering the first trial, the fight at the grove and the quick bathhouse scene after, so don’t read any further if you haven’t finished. At the time of writing this I’ve completed the full story quest so be wary if I mention any details that may happen later.

Having us start off with Mydei’s pov and allowing us to use him in a couple fights was so cruel, if only because I spent quite a while getting distracted by his presence and simply admiring his.. everything. His voice actor did such a fabulous job this patch too.

I think it’s kinda endearing how fond his is of his mother and so ready to defend her at any moment. His father on the other hand, not so much.

So, it turns out it really was him that Phainon went ahead and “stabbed.” I figured it was during the trail, but the silhouette threw me off a bit so there were times I thought he was maybe just fighting himself instead.

No harm done however, not because Mydei is immortal or this whole fight is dreamlike, but because Phainon didn’t really hit him.. or Mydei blocked it off to the side. Either way, it’s something I didn’t while watching but yeah, it’s clear that sword didn’t even slice him.

I know people have their concerns when it comes to Aglaea, but the more plotting we hear of her off to the side, the more I enjoy her. I mean, it’s not entirely bad to believe that Phainon would fail his trail sense it just makes more sense for Mydei to own the coreflame of Strife given his lore.

On a less serious note, seeing him chat with some of the kids at the bathhouse and sorta scolding them from being away from their parents was cute. Who knew our tough king could be good with kids? This makes the whole situation of the 3.1 banners kinda funny since we got this tall, strong and handsome as heck man running alongside being Tribbie, Yunli & Huohuo, who are all on the smaller side.

I gotta say that whomever was voicing Mydei’s mother totally nailed it. The anger in her voice was spot on.

No offense to Castorice, but if I woke up and had literal death staring right back at me, I’d be terrified and probably pass out again right there. But huzzah, the notorious Penacony question makes its return.

ot gonna lie, but I’m actually quite pleased with Hyacine’s model. I didn’t have any strong opinions from the few teasers we saw of her previously, but she’s real cute in-game. She’s 100% gonna be an Abundance unit though, yeah? There’s no way a nurse could be anything else.

The amount of hate I see for Mem simply because the thing is pink is wild. I’m starting to enjoy them more and more and I always love catching whenever they’re able to actually speak words.

I can’t wait to learn more about whatever kind of history there is between Aglaea and Anaxa. We see them interact very briefly towards the end of the patch, where he forgets she’s even around and her thinking of him as an annoying child, so the tension is definitely there. I can only imagine how many times she threatened to end him if she treats Anaxa worse than us.

Well, too bad! Rules are made to be broken, ANAXA.

The way they worded this moment of disappointment was funnier to me than I could’ve anticipated.

It must be because the scholarly type of vibe I get with Dr. Ratio, but I originally thought Anaxa was going to be this self-centered guy, but at least he cares enough to put himself at risk for everyone else at the grove. With the mention of alchemy before and “equivalent exchange” now, I can’t help but think of FMA.

So we saw this image last patch too but it’s clearer now that Cyrene was killed by the Flame Reaver. It’s fair to assume she was a Chrysos Heir because of the golden blood, yea?

I know death is Castorice’s whole gimmick and her primary weapon is a scythe, so I wasn’t really expecting some ooze/poison/whatever we’re calling this stuff to appear. If it was shown in a previous trailer, then I don’t remember. Also love how we cycle through all our weapons. We saw the lance earlier while fighting alongside Mydei, we see us pulling out the feather-pen and Mem later on, and now we have our trusty bat back with us.

The Flame Reaver takes no time sending some powerful slashes our way, knocking everyone back in pain and we somehow manage to get those close to Castorice, even holding her up, without triggering her deadly curse? That’s concerning.

I’ve seen her combat, I’ve heard about the passive and I know Castorice is gonna be such a broken unit.. but I just don’t have it in me to pull when her banner drops next patch. She just.. doesn’t appeal to me at all? I enjoyed her more this patch than in 3.0, but that’s it. I see all the purple, the butterflies and the scythe and it just makes me miss Seele more, so to heck with meta, I wanna pull for my favorites! (I regret not pulling for her back in 1.4 each and every darn day.)

I know Cerces was sorta controlling Anaxa here and giving him some extra power to damage the Flame Reaver, but this arrogant smirk is doing something to me. Although Erudition units are probably my favorite, do I really need another wind dps if my E3 Feixiao exists? Who knows.

I remember last patch they said that Trianne only had enough power to launch a couple more century gates, so you bet I got hella nervous whenever a new one was opened. She really came in clutch to save us though.

Returning to the holy city and informing people that their relatives perished during the attacks at the grove was rough, but I’m like 95% sure this old man was voiced by the same dude who did Tiernan back in Penacony.

I like that they do mention the contact we made, but it’s a shame we don’t delve much into how we managed to survive holding death’s favorite daughter in our arms. I suppose there’s plenty time to learn more about this girl next patch when her banner drops. It’s bound to happen again anyway, so long as that one scene of Castorice coming to shield us with open arms in the Nameless Faces trailer actually happens.

Well, I’m so incredibly glad you had some quiet time to yourself without any life threatening chaos to deal with, Dan Heng.. how about next time you take the lead hm?? I volunteer you to be the protagonist next patch.

To think they would hold a silly challenge to see who would stay in the hot baths the longest right after returning from Phainon’s failed trial. It’s even better hearing how he claims Mydei only won because the guy is wearing less clothing.

Sorry to say this but I haven’t a clue on what y’all see with Aventurine and Ratio, but this is a guy pairing that I can get behind. The bickering these two constantly have going on and their endless competitive rivalry is fantastic.

And we’re gonna stop here for now. I think I’m good for only two more posts. Thankfully this parch seemed shorter than 3.0 and I can get a head start on jotting everything down sooner since I actually took a day off of work. (yes it’s because I was excited for Pokemon Day.)

[jupiterbinnie]

🪼⟡᎒ BEACH DAY WITH SATORU

satoru gojo x female oc

content: fluff, pre-relationship, flirty

It was a hot summer day in japan, Momo was really bored and she didn’t had anything to do, she decided to call her “best friend” everyone knew that Satoru wasn’t just her best friend, they always had something special going on.

she was waiting for him to pick up the call, she hoped that he answered fast, and he actually did. “hey Toru… i’m bored” she said through the phone and Satoru chuckled, he was actually waiting her to call him “i don’t know why i had a feeling that you were gonna call me because of you being bored, what you wanna do?” he said with a playful tone making her laugh “you know me so well… can we go to the beach?” Momo asked with a hopeful tone in her voice, Satoru smiled at her idea of going to the beach, just the two of them… that was a perfect plan “get ready i’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.” he said getting up from his bed, Momo smiled happily and got up from her bed as well. “thank god you got your driver’s license, see you in twenty minutes.” she said with a smile on her lips, he chuckled at her answer and shook his head as he started to prepare the car for their trip to the beach.

she hung up her phone and went to the wardrobe to dress up for the beach , she prepared two sandwiches for them and some fruit that she knew he might like, she knew about his sweet tooth of course , so she took some snacks for him. she heard the car outside of her house and got out with a smile on her lips, she greeted her best friend and got up on his car.

“Hi Toru.” she said smiling at him once she got on the car, she was happy to see him, even if she saw him the other day, “Hi there Momo.” he said giving her a smile as well when he saw her, he couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked in summer, tanned skin, natural blush,shiny hair and some freckles in her face. damn, he was down bad for her, with that sweet tone and kind smile that made him giggle internally every time she smiled at him. she looked up at him after putting her seatbelt on and chuckled softly at his fond expression “so are we staying in front of my house or we’re heading to the beach.” she asked in a teasing tone while looking at him, his gaze shifted from her to the street and started the engine, his cheeks turned red and he tried to hide it behind a cocky smirk. “i was just admiring the pretty freckles on your nose.”

she blushed and smiled at him while he was driving, she liked the fact that he noticed the little freckles on her nose, he always noticed the little things about her and it made her feel special, he always knew how she felt with just a look in her eyes, he knew what she liked and what disgusted her, and it was the same for her, she knew everything about him, she knew exactly how to read his expressions to understand his feelings, they indeed loved each other, but were too afraid to share their feelings.

“i brought some snacks and chocolate for you, Toru.” she said taking the chocolates from her bag and showing them to him when he stopped at the red traffic lights. Satoru smiled happily when he saw the chocolate in her hands, she knew him damn well, she knew how he loved chocolate and sweets “you’re literally the best.” he said taking the chocolate from her hands, he opened it before the lights turned green and gave it a bite.

she chuckled and shook her head amused by his childish behaviour when he saw chocolate and sweets, he acted like a little kid every time she gave him sweets, it made her happy seeing him happy, when he behaved like a he wasn’t the strongest. from the other part, Satoru loved when he could be himself without any worries, he felt so safe around her, he felt like a normal teen when he was with her, even if she was a sorcerer too, she never saw him as weapon like everyone else.

minutes passed and they finally arrived at the beach, the place wasn’t really full, so they had the chance to find a good spot to lay down. “wow it’s incredible that the beach is not that full” she said sitting on her pink Hello Kitty towel, taking off her shirt and shorts. He gave her a glance and nodded with a smile, he wanted a calm day, so the fact that the beach wasn’t full was perfect to him “we’re lucky, this beach is always full.” he said sitting next to her “i guess i have to borrow your Hello Kitty towel, because i forgot mine.” he chuckled shaking his head and laid down next to her with a smile. Momo looked at him and shook her head “i’ll share it with you only if when we leave you buy me an ice cream” she said resting her head into his shoulder and smiled playfully. he felt the warmth of her body as she leaned against him, even if it was a hot summer day he enjoyed it, Satoru loved having her close, every time he had her close, he felt some weird feeling in his stomach, like when you go on a roller coaster.

“fine, i’ll buy you some ice cream” he said rolling his eyes playfully and poking her cheek with a smile, she laughed at that action, he always did that and she loved it every time he did that. “then i’ll share my towel.” she said nodding softly, she had a towel for him, but she liked the idea of sharing towel with her friend, maybe she didn’t saw him as a friend, maybe she was really in love with him but was too scared to admit it out loud, maybe the only one she ever told that was Shoko, but only because she knew that Shoko would never open her mouth about her feelings for Satoru.

on the other hand, Satoru only shared his feelings for Momo with Suguru, because he knew that he wouldn’t tell anyone about them, he was so down for her, he loved everything about her, every moment he shared with her it was a beautiful memory and he would cancel every plan he had just to spend time with her, just to feel her close.

she was laying on the towel, next to him with her head resting on his chest while they were under the sun listening to the sound of the waves, to the kids laughing, everything was so calm and pacific.

her breath was slow and calm, her eyes were closed and her expression was relaxed. she was enjoying so much having him close to her, feeling his heart beating through his chest, it was like music for her.

“hey Toru, i’m getting hungry.” she said lifting her head just a bit to look up at him with a pout. “i made sandwiches for the both of us.” she said smiling at him with her typical sweet smile.

he smiled at the thought of her making sandwiches for the both of them, she always made the best meals and he loved that from her, she knew everything that he liked and didn’t like in food, so she always made the perfect meals for them.

he grabbed her bag and took the sandwiches out for them to eat, he noticed that their names were written on the aluminium envelope wrapped around the sandwiches. she unconsciously drew a heart next to his name, maybe she was too used to do it when she was bored in class and wrote down his name on the corners of her note book.

“a heart? i knew you loved me.” he said in a teasing tone, but he was screaming internally when he saw it, a heart??? next to his name??? oh yeah he needed to tell suguru about it.

she brutally blushed when she realised that she in fact, drew a heart next to his name, how couldn’t she notice that? she was probably daydreaming about him and just didn’t noticed it.

“well of course i do! you’re my favourite person in this world.” she said chuckling and sitting on the towel to eat her sandwich. she tried to hide her rosy cheeks looking away from him and instead she was just looking at the sea.

he couldn’t help but find her reaction cute, seeing her all shy and nervous made his heart race and feel again that weird feeling in his stomach, butterflies they called them, but he felt an entire zoo.

they both ate their sandwiches and once they finished, she laid down again into his chest, every time she had a meal she got all sleepy, specially in summer.

eventually they both fell asleep under the sunlight just to woke up when was late evening, maybe at 6 pm , they indeed slept a lot.

she woke up looking up at him who was fully awake, big blue eyes looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

“we slept a lot.” she said chuckling softly , looking at him, almost getting lost in his damn blue eyes, they were so pretty that she sometimes found herself getting lost into his ocean eyes. “you have the most beautiful eyes i’ve ever seen in my life.” she said still looking at him, every time she looked into his damn eyes she felt like everyone in the world disappeared and it was just the two of them.

he seemed surprised when she told him that, she really thought that? he knew he was handsome of course, but when she complimented him it felt like a dream, the girl that he was head over heels for was telling him that he had the most beautiful eyes that she ever seen in her life? oh yeah he was about to have a heart attack.

“you really think that, princess?” he asked with his hand gently cupping her chin, tilting her head up to have a better look of her.

princess… it was the word that was running in Momo’s mind, fuck, she was loosing it for sure. of course she thought that, she wanted to get lost in that beautiful eyes every day of her life. “of course i think that.”

he smiled at the answer, that’s all he needed to hear. “you know… i don’t wanna loose our friendship or something.” he started , he felt like that was the perfect moment for tell her how he felt about her, sun going down, the sound of the waves and the calming sound of the beach in general. “but every time i look at you i can’t get out of my head the thought of kissing you.”

she felt like she was gonna die in that exact moment, he wanted to kiss her? he seemed so sincere, his gaze was full of love and affection, oh god she indeed needed to tell Shoko about it. “are you for real?” she asked , she felt like she was dreaming, she pinched her skin to wake up in case it was some kind of dream.

he chuckled looking at her pinching her skin, he understood that she was feeling the same way he felt. “you’re not dreaming, i’m saying this for real.” he said rubbing his thumbs in her cheeks gently, so gentle that she thought that he was thinking that she was going to break into pieces.

“i’ve been feeling the same way for years, but i was too scared to tell you about this, only Shoko knows about this.” she said with her cheeks burning red and her heart beating like crazy, she felt like her heart was about to get out of her chest.

he couldn’t be happier, now that he knew that Momo in fact, felt the same way about him, finally after years of waiting for the perfect moment to tell her about his feelings,finally they both decided to talk about their feelings towards each other.

“can i kiss you?” he asked with his eyes lightening up with hope, he wanted to know how her lips tasted, strawberry maybe? she always used strawberry chapstick, he wondered if the taste of her lips was sweet as her smile.

“i waited years for that question.” she said now sitting just right in front of him, holding his hand fidgeting with his long fingers, a typical behaviour of her.

he felt like his heart was about to explode, he cupped her face with his free hand, carefully pulling her closer to him, their noses touching, their breaths mingling as they were so close and then, finally after years of loving each other in secret, their lips touched.

they both melt into a sweet and loving kiss, the moment he tasted her lips his mind went blank, the sweet taste of strawberry made his head blow, just like he imagined for years.

when her lips finally met his, she felt like her heart exploded, feeling his lips on hers after years of just dreaming about them felt like a dream, so soft and chocolate flavoured.

once they reluctantly broke the kiss, they looked at each other, getting lost in their eyes, the only thing in their mind was the love they had for each other.

the beach was the only spectator of the looks of love they were giving to each other, they didn’t need words to express themselves, they just needed to look at each other to understand that they both loved each other no matter what.

“let’s get you that ice cream i promised.” he said kissing her forehead, he smiled at the thought of leaving that place knowing that they were finally together after years of wanting each other.

finally after months of writing about teen satoru i finished this one!!! this is my first time writing in English… so if i made mistakes im sorry, im trying to improve every day :3 with love nari 🩷

tag list! @withcheese @styrofoamplat3s @marbledeli @gojoscumslut @joonunivrs @vampirezyyx @eveisred @clemenn @hel1nn @cailliz @twoderanged @whoisteona @strawberiicreme @cybrb4t @draysgirl

[voidangxls]

GRRRRRR I NEED A STILES FIC WHERE'S UR LIKE THE COACH'S KID OR SMTH AND HE FINDS OUT. IT'S NOT FUNNY I NEED STILES IN MY VEINS AAAA. Who said that guys...

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “You’re coach’s daughter!?” ♬⋆.˚

╰┈➤ requested!

pairings(s)- stiles stilinski x reader

Summary- You and Stiles have been talking recently but he finds out who your dad is.

category- fluff

warnings- american school system, coach, greenberg, slight shy!stiles, not proofread

word count: 2670

masterlist; teen wolf masterlist

a/n: I hope this fits what you wanted!!

---------------------------

You had switched to Beacon Hills High School during your sophomore year of high school. Your father is a coach and teacher for Beacon Hills so you went to a different school, you and your dad (mostly you) thinking it was for the best.

But you hated it, the reachers were annoying, the school was crazy strict and you just didn’t fit within the school so you asked your dad if you could transfer to Beacon Hills where be taught at. He was more than overjoyed to now have you attending his school, he signed the transfer papers fairly quickly.

You had only transferred at the beginning of the school year, showing up for the first day like any of the normal students.

Now it was the 3rd month of school and no one knew you were Coach Finstocks daughter except for the two of you, and the principal. Your parents split up when you were little, your dad getting full custody of you though you do see your mom here and there. When you were born you got your mothers last name, something to do with her culture or the way she was raised so that was another reason no one knew you were Bobby’s daughter, you guys didn’t have the same last name.

When you arrived at the school your attention was immediately taken by a certain boy. His name was Stiles Stilinski. As soon as you saw him you thought he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen, everything about him was literally perfect in your eyes. So what did you do? You talked to him…but not until like a month and a half of school had already passed

On the first day of school when you walked into class is when you noticed him, you also noticed him staring. So you walked towards the empty seat behind him and sat down. That day when you had sat in that seat, he and his friend turned around slightly and you just gave them a smile.

Almost 2 months had passed since the first say of school and that was when the two of you first spoke. The both of you remembered that day distinctly.

You walked to your usual seat in first person and sat down, right behind Stiles like usual. When the teacher began class you took a breath. You had finally grown the balls to talk to him, since he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. Leaning forward slightly in your seat, your hand reaches forward and gently taps his shoulder twice, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment, not enough for someone else to notice, but enough for just the both if you to notice.

The boy quickly turned around, he knew it had to have been you since you sat behind him but when he turned around and actually got view of you actually trying to talk to him he lost his breath. His mouth dropped open slightly, his jaw slightly moving as if he was trying to talk but the poor boy just couldn’t get the words out.

In response to his awkwardness you let a smile overcome your face, trying your best to not laugh at his expression. “do you have a pencil I could borrow?” you ask quietly, careful not to disturb the teachers lesson. Now, after a while of wanting to talk to him all you did was ask if you could barrow a pencil (which you had in your bag anyways), but it was better than nothing!

Stiles’s mouth snaps shut and he swallows, nodding quickly he turns around and grabs a perfectly sharpened pencil out of his bag. He turns back around rapidly and holds the pencil up between the two of you like it was a prize. The smile on your face grows wider all while he just stares at you with wide eyes, as if he’s in a trance. You reach forward and grab the pencil from his hand, purposely making your hand graze against his. The boys expression hadn’t changed, still looking at you as if you were a princess or something.

Stiles could have sworn his heart skipped a beat and no actually probably stopped when he turned around to see you looking at him with a gentle expression.

He had wanted to talk to you since the very first day of school when he saw you. Before that day he had never seen you, so clearly you were new to Beacon Hills, or at least new to the high school. He just never had the guts to actually speak to you, he was never good with girls. Especially very pretty ones like you. When he first turned towards you he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, you were up close and asking him a question and you looked like a princess. In that moment he would do anything you asked, when you asked for a pencil and finally snapped him out of his haze he was grateful. One of those reasons being because he thought he looked like an idiot staring at you like that, and second because he really liked your voice.

From that point forward the two of you spoke regularly. After a couple of days you guys ended up exchanging numbers and you talked 24/7. He still didn’t know that your dad was one of his teachers and his coach but you were going to tell him soon.

Last week Stiles was shockingly able to ask you on a date. You were shocked that he was able to stand in front of you and get the words out but you obviously said yes, happily. And when he got that answer he lit up like a kid at a candy store and did a celebratory movement. You had compromised a day in which you knew your dad wouldn’t be home, you didn’t want your dad to know just yet and you didn’t think Stiles would want to be heavily interrogated on your first date.

The date had went great, the two of you were just as amazing together as you were outside of romantic feelings. Although you guys just recently met, both of you could see a great relationship together and it was definitely something you both wanted to explore.

Just five days after your date with Stiles it was now a Wednesday and you were at school, the two of you were supposed to be having another date tonight. Right now it was your free period, usually you would go to the library to either read or catch up on work but the library was currently closed for the day seeing as the librarian had to leave early. It was too cold to go outside seeing as it was transitioning from fall into winter. So you decided you would go to your dads classroom seeing as his office is connected to the room and you knew he would let you chill in his office while he taught his class, what you didn’t know was that Stiles was in that current class.

You walk through the halls of the school, bag over one of your shoulders. Your phone in your hand with headphones connected to your phone and one of the buds in your ear.

When you make it to your dads classroom you bring your hand up and knock on the door. He opens the door and looks down at you with a confused expression “what are you doing here?” he asks, not rudely or in his usual tone of voice but in pure confusion and slight worry which shocks the other students, never having heard him using an abnormal tone of voice on a student.

Bobby steps aside and lets you walk in even further slightly. Upon seeing your frame Stiles perks up, a smile immediately casted onto his face and his curiosity spiked. “Free period and library’s closed. Can I chill in your office?” you ask your dad, slightly stepping further into the classroom, avoiding looking at any of the other students. “yeah go ahead” he looks down at you a nods. He moves back towards the front of his desk while you walk past.

As you were walking you felt eyes on you. You were about to turn around when your dad speaks up. “Greenberg! Stop looking at my daughter!” he says harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut slightly and turn towards your dad with raised eyebrows. Still feeling eyes on you, you turn your head slightly and see Stiles looking ahead at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. At further notice everyone in the classroom was looking between you and your dad in shock, well except for Greenberg, he had his head down after your dad’s comment.

“shes your daughter?” Stiles says loudly in shock, his finger pointing at you. His mouth was open in a jaw dropping way and his eyes were wide. You take a deep breath and walk into your dads office, ignoring the eyes of your fellow students and more importantly Stiles

It was now the end of the school day and you were getting longer stares from students, clearly word had gotten around. You truly didn’t care but now everyone would be questioning why neither of you said anything.

And let’s just say you were slightly avoiding Stiles, well not really…you only avoided him after that class. You were now at your locker, packing up your school bag so you could head home when a presence is suddenly next to you. “Coach is your dad!?” the voice exclaims, breaking slightly at the end. You let out a breath and grab your bag, then closing your locker.

Stiles’s face was revealed once you closed your locker. His face was filled with pure shock, he looked at you as if you had two heads. Your lips press together into a thin line and your grip on your backpack adjusts. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, I was going to I swear!” You try your best to reassure him.

His face confronts from shock and into confusion, looking at you with pulled eyebrows but his mouth still slightly open. “Wha- I just cant believe your Coaches daughter!” he exclaims loudly, everyone in the hall turns towards the two of you and in response to his loudness you raise a singular brow at him. He grimaces slightly “sorry” he whispers. “I just cant believe you, like you standing in front of me came from him, it makes no sense!” he exclaims, definitely more on the quieter side this time around.

You fight a smile on your face, Stiles always brought one to your face. When he sees you smiling a smile is immediately pushed onto his face as well. “Well I am” you respond quietly, looking up at him.

“And you know thats very scary but who cares?” Stiles shrugs, one of his hands coming up to grip onto his backpack strap. Your face lights up in response, you were scared he would want to see you anymore just because of who your dad is. You let out a small laugh at him saying your dad was scary but then you look up at him happily “so, our dates still on?” you ask, swaying your body lightly.

He pulls a face and looks at you as if you asked the dumbest question ever. “Are you serious? You’re the best girl ever of course I want to go on that date, you’re like amazing, your pretty, funny, kind, great clothes- Well uh um unless you dont want to go on the date which is totally-“ He rambles, moving his hands theatrically.

During his rambling you couldn’t help but smile. Sure the compliments weren’t out of this world creative or poetic but when you could tell they actually mean something from who they’re coming from means a lot. Before he could continue to ramble and stress about if you wanted to go on the date or not you bring your hand up and cover his mouth. “I want to go on the date, Stiles.” you assure him, nodding your head slightly with a smile

Stiles lets out a little nervous laugh and nods as you remove your hand from his face. He tucks one of his hands into his jean pocket and looks down at you bashfully “good, cause I was- am really excited about it” he tells you, bouncing on his feet lightly.

“me too” you respond, looking up at him with a matching smile.

It was now later in the day and you were ready for your date with Stiles. You were dressed in a cute turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans, Stiles said he was surprising you so you had no clue where the two of you were going.

Now, since the cat was out of the bag you didn’t see too much of a problem in the fact that your dad would indeed be home all night. So he would be here when Stiles picked you up and dropped you off, which was definitely nerve wracking knowing who your dad was and knowing how Stiles is, Oh! and the fact that your dad had no clue you were going on a date.

You were putting in your last earring when the doorbell rang, you quickly grab your jacket and throw it on, as well as grabbing your purse as you walk out of your bedroom. As you were walking down the steps you hear your fathers naturally loud voice ring out so you stop, not being seen by either of them. “What are you doing here Stilinski? and with flowers?”

“uh um your-“ before Stiles could even finish his sentence where he was going to tell Bobby the flowers were for you he jumps in.

“for me?” He asks dryly, knowing they weren’t for him yet at the same time not knowing they were for his daughter that was currently eavesdropping.

“Yeah! actually! As a thank you for being the best coach” Stiles stammers, pushing them forward and into your dad’s hands. From on top of the steps behind the wall you let out a giggle and finally decide to put Stiles out of him misery.

Your dad looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand then back up at an awkwardly smiling Stiles in pure confusion. Not a single thought in your dad’s brain or a feature in his face didn’t hold confusion.

You walk forward, now stepping in between the two boys. “Dad. Stiles and I are going on a date” you tell him confidently. To be sure to win your father over him you show him one of your award winning smiles that always had an effect on your dad.

“Stilinski? You’re going on a date with Stilinski? Actually no, my daughter’s going on a date?” Bobby exclaims, pointing his finger at each of you accordingly.

“yup” you say happily, popping the p

“oh god” Stiles whispers, silently praying for his safety

“since when do you go on dates?” Your dad asks uncomfortably yet in his usual stern voice. He didn’t like seeing his little girl grow up.

“since now, dad” you respond, quickly pulling him into a hug and pecking his cheek. “Make sure to put those in water!” you say hurriedly while grabbing Stiles’s hand and speed walking to his car

“Have her home by ten!” Your father exclaims, his hand holding the flowers raising and shaking sternly with his words.

“Yes Coach! Oh uh Sir!” Stiles exclaims back to him, clumsily almost tripping over his feet but your hold was there to balance him. He opens the door for you and lend you a hand to get inside before running around to the drivers side of his precious Rosco.

“At least it wasnt GreenBerg” Bobby mutters, running a hand over his face and through his hair as he closes the front door.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I can't sleep. I'll actually write about the show later, but right now, I just need to let people know it's 1:30 AM. Last night I slept for literally about half an hour, as I took a night bus to New York City to see Nish Kumar and couldn't sleep on the bus. This afternoon I took a nap in my Air B&B for a couple of hours, which was nice but did not make up for how sleep deprived I was. I watched Nish Kumar's show that started at 10 PM and ended around midnight, came back to the Air B&B, where I can sleep for a few hours, I have to get up at 6:30 in the morning to get my train home. My 12-hour train ride home (actually the train just goes to Montreal, after which it takes a further 2 hours to get home).

I'm lying in bed in the Air B&B at 1:30 AM and I can't sleep, despite all those circumstances that should mean I pass out instantly. I'm too wired. Tonight was too fucking exciting. Forget everything I said earlier, about how this trip was a stupid idea. It was worth it. It was 100% worth it. Worth all the time and all the money.

I can't explain right now everything about why it was so exciting. I will write about that later, when my brain is working, because it sure isn't right now. Right now, I just want to share with people the fact that it was so exciting it took away my ability to sleep, even in these sleep-deprived circumstances.

I mean, I don't have the words to actually explain what happened right now, but I guess this could do a bit of my explaining for me:

[maxdibert]

From the way you talk, it sounds like you’re defending murderers, like they’re not even bad people 😅😅. And I’m not even talking about cases like self-defense or anything like that.

Legally, Snape didn’t kill the Potters or torture the Longbottoms, sure. But let’s be real—if it weren’t for him, they might still be alive. And he was a Death Eater for three years—do you really think he never killed anyone in that time? And why would he care? He didn’t give a damn about what they were doing until it affected him personally. Hе begged them to spare Lily… Like, who cares what she actually wanted? He wanted to save her after bringing this whole mess on them himself—even if it was by accident. If it had been any other family, he would’ve stayed a Death Eater and kept being a piece of shit till the end.

And how many times did he actually save Harry? Once? Twice? Maybe three times? (And no, I’m not counting that scene in the movie where he supposedly protected the Golden Trio from the werewolf—that wasn’t in the books.) He became a spy shortly before Voldemort’s death, and then again when Harry was in his fourth/fifth year. And the rest of the time, he just sat around doing nothing, like everyone else. So yeah, reading about his “20 years of nonstop dedication to the forces of good!!” just feels ridiculous to me.

He did the bare minimum for someone trying to redeem himself after all the shit he’d done—he literally had no other choice.)

Ah, the classic “Snape did the bare minimum and didn’t even care” argument. Let’s break it down.

"Without Snape, the Potters and Longbottoms might still be alive"

This is, at best, an absurd oversimplification and, at worst, an outright lie. Snape didn’t point Voldemort toward the Potters or the Longbottoms. He passed along information about a prophecy to his boss (which was literally his job as a spy at the time). He had no idea Voldemort would choose to target the Potters specifically, and when he found out, he did what no one else did: he tried to stop it.

Was his initial motive Lily? Yes. And? Snape was caught up in a supremacist organization from a young age, but unlike many others, Snape completely switched sides and became the double agent who ultimately led to Voldemort’s downfall.

Neither Dumbledore nor the Order could prevent Voldemort from going after the Potters. Snape tried. He failed, but at least he did something.

By the way, where was the rest of the Order in all of this? Why didn’t anyone else foresee what would happen to the Potters? Oh right, because Peter Pettigrew betrayed them. But sure, let’s blame Snape for everything. And let's blame him for begging for Lily and not Jame who was literally his long term abuser lol

"Did he kill anyone as a Death Eater?"

We literally don't know and in fact there is a huge insinuation during canon that him ceirtainly didn't.

But let's think he killed people. So what? History is full of people who have committed crimes and later changed sides. Snape isn’t a pure hero—he’s an antihero. If we demand that Snape must have a spotless record in order for his redemption to be valid, then shouldn’t we also discard characters like Regulus Black or Draco Malfoy?

What matters is that he changed sides and actively worked against Voldemort. He didn’t just say, “Oh, I don’t want to be a Death Eater anymore.” No. He became the key spy who kept Voldemort in the dark about Harry, the Order, Dumbledore’s strategy, etc.

“If it had been any other family, he would’ve stayed a Death Eater”

This is pure baseless speculation. Snape had prejudices, sure, but even before switching sides, he was never a fanatic like Bellatrix or the Carrows. He was an outcast who found power in the wrong group—until he realized what being a Death Eater truly meant.

Yes, at first, he only cared about Lily. But if she was the only reason for his change, then why did he keep fighting for years after she died?

If he only cared about Lily, he would’ve stopped after her death. But he didn’t. He stayed, kept spying for Dumbledore, risked his life daily, and in the end, he died for the cause.

“He only saved Harry three times”

First, that’s not true. Second, saving Harry wasn’t his only job. His role as a spy was far more important. Here are some things he did besides saving Harry:

Maintained his cover as a loyal Death Eater, earning Voldemort’s trust.

Protected the students at Hogwarts (yes, even the ones he disliked).

Drew suspicion away from Quirrell in Philosopher’s Stone.

Stopped Umbridge from torturing students in Order of the Phoenix.

Tried to protect Draco Malfoy from becoming a murderer and saved him from Voldemort’s wrath.

Provided the Order with critical intel on Voldemort’s plans.

Successfully deceived Voldemort until the very end, allowing Harry to win.

Saying “he only saved Harry three times” is like saying a resistance soldier only contributed because he shot three enemies—completely ignoring all his strategic and intelligence work.

“He did the bare minimum because he had no other choice”

Really? Who else in his position did the same? How many Death Eaters switched sides and risked their lives daily for 17 years? Why didn’t Lucius Malfoy become a spy? Why didn’t Regulus Black act sooner? Why did Karkaroff just run away?

Snape had plenty of other choices. He could’ve fled like Karkaroff. He could’ve pretended to switch sides and just stayed out of the fight. He could’ve let Harry die from the start and washed his hands of the whole mess. But he didn’t.

He even admitted to Dumbledore that he would never forgive Harry for surviving while Lily died. But he protected him anyway. Because it wasn’t about what he wanted—it was about what was right.

Snape wasn’t a perfect hero, but he wasn’t a one-dimensional villain either. He was a deeply flawed, complex character who, in the end, was instrumental in Voldemort’s downfall. He didn’t just do “the bare minimum”—he sacrificed his entire life, reputation, and future to ensure the Order had a chance.

If you think that’s not enough, the problem isn’t Snape. It’s that you refuse to acknowledge what he did.

PS: Do you even know what it means to be a criminal lawyer? I mean, I get the feeling that you don’t know how to read. Yes, I defend criminals. Yes, I have defended people who have killed others or hurt them very, very badly. So, I’ll insist again: you can try all the mental gymnastics you want to change my opinion, but if I have firmly believed that a person who left someone else in a coma deserved to be defended—a real person, with real consequences in the real world—you are not going to change my opinion about a fictional character whose story is literally based on a redemption arc that lasts seven books and whose only crime was criminal association when he was a teenager. I mean, I get the feeling that you’ve never actually left your house, you don’t know many people, and you’ve never interacted with anyone outside of your church in your little town.

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[sourapplesauces]

OMG GUESS WHO PASSED!!! Im literally soaring rn WOOOO!!! I PASSED ALL MY FINALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wish me luck on my exam tomorrow !!

[wonderarium]

imagining a world where i can hyperfocus on drawing the same way i hyperfocus on pointless hobbies

[mc-tummy-blur]

Didn't expect the year of our Lord 2025 to get into Alan Rickman, but I guess that's how it goes sometimes

The year of getting into an actor that so far I have only seen portray maladjusted men

[steinbit]

i can't believe it.. . . i actually officially just handed in my thesis... .

[roboyomo]

i did pretty good today ^_^ actually drew some solid artpieces for my art blog layout without having troubles focusing and without constantly standing up from my desk and pacing around the room,, , it still happened a Couple of times but not a lot so i'm pretty proud of myself for being able to do anything today :]

[sinnettini]

the REAL tragedy of having my phone stolen is that i'm gonna have to rebuild my meme folder from scratch 😔😔😔😔

[freebooter4ever]

holy shit for the first time in ten years i forgot nicks birthday