#and show us the power of transformation

[byemambo]

Faifa Character Appreciation: Tough Love

I needed to take the time to make an appreciation post for Junior that's playing Faifa in Perfect 10 Liners. I'm sure that those who read the novel may have different opinions on how the source material is being translated on screen, but since I've only been watching the series, I'll just address my perspective from there.

In the beginning of the series airing, I was introduced to many new actors, as main roles or supporting roles. I knew ForceBook, Perth, AouBoom, and other actors such as Pepper, MarcPoon, JJ, etc. I haven't seen Junior or Mark in anything so they hadn't sparked much interest from me at the start. However, that's changed since the airing of episode 13.

We see the differences between the three brothers Newton, Yotha, and Faifa, roughly understanding that their mother and father split while Newton and Yotha grew up with their father and Faifa with their mother abroad until he was sent back to Thailand. Out of all the siblings, Yotha is the most resentful of their mother, which was illustrated in episode 13 when she visits them at their dorm. While watching the series, Faifa is described as this happy go lucky social butterfly who seems to migrate from group to group, connecting with many people with very little effort. He is someone who thrives off of taking care of others, we see this best with Wine and Gun (this scene with Wine is from episode 11).

However, his kindness also comes with a strong sense of justice if it stems from the defense of those he cares about, which becomes Gun after Yotha and Klao get hurt after leaving Newton's bar. I've seen lots of people tearing up Warich, Klao, Yotha, or all three in terms of their problematic behaviors, but that's not my focus nor do I condone how reckless they all become towards one another. I have a deeper appreciation for how Faifa has no hesitation in defending Gun against Yotha, who is truly the victim being caused the most harm from everything happening between those three individuals.

Faifa becomes the first person at Gun's aid and recognizing his state of shock, as we see the stark difference in Yotha's life and Gun's: the difference between someone who denied himself love vs. someone who basked in it. While Newton becomes indifferent to Yotha's behavior, I'm sure due to him also growing up in the same circumstances as Yotha, both of them have their own unstable relationship with emotional regulation and conflict resolution that becomes unhelpful and perpetuates the cycle of self sabotage and stagnation.

Although Faifa has a free spirit that's fairly lighthearted around Yotha, his more gloom and reserved counterpart, Faifa still has the confidence and strength to stand his ground against Yotha in multiple ways. Just because you're able to understand the features of someone's trauma and where their behaviors stem from, does not mean anyone should enable such behavior that creates a domino effect and harms the person they care about most, the person who has worn his heart on his sleeve only for it to get trampled on and wounded over and over.

Whenever Yotha yells at Faifa for treating Gun like an object after Kong and Gun switch rooms, this is the first time we see someone directly addressing Yotha where it hurts most, which Faifa advocates for Gun and his decision to distance himself from Yotha's toxicity where he has no one else to blame but himself. In a different timeline, Faifa could have easily sided with his brother due to familial loyalty, finding himself sympathizing with Yotha's parental neglect growing up as well as his past relationship with Warich that ended in heartbreak to the point of no longer believing in love. However, despite dealing with his own childhood traumas, Faifa chooses to do the right thing and protect Gun, someone who had become a strong friend while changing his brother little by little.

I'm excited to see where they go with Faifa, especially after Wine becomes the next code nong. I really hope Yotha truly takes this time to self reflect and to move past his own toxic behavior and past, knowing that if he doesn't, he will not only lose his love interest, but potentially his newly found friends and the closeness between him and his younger brother. I'm loving this series and if anyone needs to be convinced to watch, I hope this post will do the trick :)

[vitreouspositive]

that moment in tfone. but shattered glass. whoever sold the idea of canonising alternate universes??? actual genius.

[ao3-anonymous]

Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (10/22/2024)

Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms.  Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.

Overall:

Over 1,000 Fics:

Over 5,000 Fics:

Over 10,000 Fics:

Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard

[luxaofhesperides]

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 

They’ll never get to meet. 

Duke had never felt so alone before. 

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow? 

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 

“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 

“Man, what a day.” 

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

[always-a-joyful-note]

Every day I think about WHA's dual message of how knowledge is power and how art is a medium of power

[void-lingerer]

Unlikely meeting

call me cringe if you must but I've taken Zoe's words to heart and began adding my persona's lore to Omen bc it applies quite well , what with her species being unknown and I've been thinking about it

I made this back on the 9th of the month but I forgot to post it lmfao

[razzle-zazzle]

Monster Squad AU brainrot compilation post <3

@dinosquad-central

Ms. Moynihan's been around wayyyy longer than Veloci, and might have been the one to turn him all those centuries ago. Both of them are capable of hypnotism, shapeshifting, superstrength, and turning into fog, though Veloci is uniquely weak to the seed-scattering trick and neither of them handle sunlight or garlic well.

Vampires can eat really any kind of animal blood; Moynihan travels far every night to feed from as many sources to minimize damage, while Veloci enjoys human blood specifically because he enjoys draining people dry whenever he can get away with it.

Raptordyne the company is basically a) a front for Veloci's growing coven of vampires and thralls, b) an actual bioengineering company with focus in agriculture and livestock that innovates new technologies, new GMOs, and overall makes Veloci a lot of money, and c) it also runs regular blood drives! How fun!

That focus on agriculture and livestock isn't just to make money btw. It also serves as "preparation for the future" i.e. how Veloci plans to feed the "world of monsters" he's trying to create.

Nobody knows if the Kittery Point Vampire is actually real or just an elaborate fabrication for tourists. Nobody but Joanne Moynihan, who carefully maintains the delicate balance of being just noticeable enough to attract tourists without ever actually getting caught or hurting people.

Veloci’s ooze is basically a curse wrapped in slime. Maybe there’s some sciency stuff going on in it, maybe it’s more of a “magic is a kind of science” thing, either way the batch that the kids swim through was a rare fluke of success that Veloci hasn’t been able to replicate since.

Rump was already Moynihan’s familiar and thus already a little magic, but swimming through the ooze with the kids made him even more magic + able to sort of “match” what the kids are (werebeast, ghost&corpsedog, fishdog, hellhound, creachur). He also dove into the water to try and clear the ooze out there and didn’t mean for the kids to follow him (…or did he? He took Caruso’s jacket, after all!).

Rump’s attempt to “purify” the ooze is why it affected the shark differently to the kids despite being the same batch.

The squad becomes monsters slowly over a period of time. Caruso doesn’t notice because he subconsciously put up a glamour almost from the beginning; Rodger thinks he’s just having wild dissociation episodes until his ghost is hovering over his body; Buzz feels like his body is falling apart until his skin finally splits and the angel emerges; and Max and Fiona experience the partial transformations seen in the show until Moynihan stabilizes them. Either way it’s uh. Rodger and Buzz (and technically Caruso bc he did find out about his horns eventually) would like a refund bc that was horrifying.

They’re all lowkey panicking, slowly congregate together at the beach, realize they’re all going through changes (well. Caruso tries really hard to pretend he’s not but Buzz bursts his glamour on accident), and that’s where Moynihan finds them. She brings them to the lighthouse, stabilizes them, and then explains that they’re all cursed now.

Max & Fiona are the only actual shapeshifters in the group, shifting from human to monster form on a physical level. Rodger simply possesses and depossesses himself, Caruso’s got his glamour, and Buzz pilots/puppets a mannequin the squad found for him. He basically slots himself into a hole in the back and then a glamour sewn into the clothes make the puppet appear human.

Thus when Buzz “transforms” from human to angel he actually just. Pops out of the puppet. He does make it look cool though by making his wings appear first!

Caruso doesn’t need to have a transformation sequence because of the glamour but. Well. It’s Caruso. He’s got several different transformation sequences purely for the fun of it <3

The “failed monsters” that Veloci’s curse makes are unstable, a mess of flesh and limbs that’s thrown symmetrical structure out the window, and often deteriorate into slime instead of firming up into proper monsters. Like John Carpenter’s The Thing had a baby with Flubber that was fed only Eraserhead babies and raised by Uncle Fester Addams. Icky stuff <3

Same two-gun cure, but the Chiller sprays a magic antidote that destabilizes the curse and then the Spiller applies a stabilizing effect to return the now-uncursed victim to normal.

Peter is either another vampire or some type of chimera. Lieutenant Alpha is a vampire.

Caruso’s “true” form, an uglier and far more powerful demonic form, is straight up inaccessible to him until he can get over himself re: his vanity and need to look good. And even when he does use it once it’s still not something he can just call upon at will… nor does he really want to. Think evil goat with wings and attitude.

When Caruso comes out to his parents in “T-Rex Formation” (after spending the episode using his abilities to give all the other players misfortune while only boosting himself a little) they’re initially horrified because they think their baby boy is dead 😞 Caruso has to hurriedly correct that it’s a curse! He’s not dead! He’s just cursed! In the end his parents accept him <3

When Fiona comes out to her family in “Mole Lotta Trouble” they also accept her wholeheartedly. And also still make the “see! I told you so!” remarks. Except they thought she was the werewolf. Terry complains about Fiona stinking like rotting fish in her monster form.

Buzz can see the shrimp colors :] his senses are actually really weird; he doesn’t perceive visible light super well but can see/feel/hear just about the entire electromagnetic spectrum. He actually kind of sucks at healing until he gets a better handle on his senses and how to interpret them, but he’s really good at seeing through and popping glamours from Day One (Caruso is Not Amused).

Max is colorblind now, trading his red and green cones for yellow. In both of his forms :[

and then I think I had more but I cannot recall it off the top of my head + I don't want this post to get too long but. Yeah. Monster Squad (not to be confused with the 1987 movie of the same name LMAO).

[krkavizio]

My brother in Christ, I don't know what you expected??? Introduction post... yeah

Helloo, you know me as Vizio. I can't make introduction posts for the LOVE of me. It took me a while to actually get one out... I'm too lazy to go aesthetic

Basic Things:

However, for one, I'm a minor. For the eyes of Primus, do not send me NSFW.

I'm aroace & agender. I BEG you to use my pronouns I put in my profile description.

I like writing. I'm the type of writer to go "oh shit, I can write anything." Aside from being a writer, I am a comic reader. I just like comics. No excuse for that!

I'm also your professional caffeine addict... totally.

I hyperfixate a lot, and it sucks. I don't think I'm in a lot of fandoms.

Main Hyperfixations:

Super Sentai

Kamen Rider

Metal Cardbots

Side Hyperfixations:

Transformers

MARVEL

Power Rangers (Western Super Sentai)

Valorant

Poppy Playtime

Voltron

Call of Duty

Invincible

Batman

And this is where I literally can not think what else I'm into lkljjchdksal

GO! WINNER! NUMBER ONE! 🗣️

ANYWAY! That's about it. See you around, chat!

[deepseaphantom]

i gotta reread the transformers skybound run cause i fell off a bit ago (still getting the comics though) but like. im not really liking the writing style of this run currently? like. it feels like theres so room to breathe. everything happens so fast and like. there were some characters that appeared and then died so fast that i felt nothing. and like!!!! some of the characters have great potential! but i fear many will be used as cannon fodder instead.

also i straight up fucking hate how arcee and elita 1 are drawn. i get it those are their g1 designs but christ alive. theres some male comic artist syndrome going on in there. drawing them in "sexy poses" or they look too fleshy.

like not to be a asshole but some of the art in the issues is BAD! like. the expressions ive seen some of the characters make. is just ugly.

anyways im still getting the comics cause i hope to god i start liking the writing more and also cause i dont want to go hunting for them later on.

[louderfade]

from Is deep brain stimulation a treatment option for anorexia nervosa?

[mindwenthashtagwanderlust]

You better believe I'll die on that hill too.

I know adverbs are controversial, but "said softly" means something different than "whispered" and this is the hill I will die on.

[awesomebutunpractical]

"So you're saying Starscream wasn't always terrible?"

No, no, he was awful to work with. Jetfire just had the patience of a saint.

[midnightwind]

yeah I still hate the story beats around killing Ghilan'nain the second time around lmao this coulda been so mean, but instead it's suuuuper rushed

[coffee-and-geto]

BETWEEN FORMULAS, FLOWERS AND FEELINGS - SATORU GOJO

You are the imbalance in Satoru’s logical and rational reasoning.

pairing: nerd! gojo x student council president! reader

summary: being the student council president isn’t the easiest job in the world. It’s not like gojo — with his trademark glasses, his awkward smile hiding the most dangerous brain. because for him, he can resolve every problem, right? there is no formula that can escape his smart mind. not even you. so when he accepts to tutor you, could he really be sure feelings won’t become a new variable?

warnings: +18 MDNI, nsfw, smut, virgin! gojo, first time, oral (m! receiving), pinning, college AU, shojo vibes, quantum physics subject, slight angst, fluff, idiots in love, insecure! gojo, nerd gojo with glasses is hot, art by @/3-aem.

wc: 9,922

Ever since he was little, Satoru Gojo seemed to have been blessed with knowledge.

His very first Christmas toy — when he was finally old enough to have one — was a huge playset containing chemical transformation recipes to prepare by himself, using a handful of formulas and calculations.

When he turned ten, his parents gifted him a kit that allowed him to build his own electric train circuit, which he had to assemble using physics methods so that real electricity could power his trains — and sometimes even his cars.

By the time he reached middle school, scientific subjects like physics and chemistry became his second mother. Nothing escaped him. Formulas, molecular mechanisms, and chemical transformations held no secrets. This passion for complex methods shaped his logic.

For every problem, Satoru always found a solution. To him, the world was nothing but a set of solvable scientific probabilities, where nothing could slip through his grasp.

But growing up with barely controllable hormones… poor Satoru had experienced firsthand just how bitter that could taste, even at university.

The first time he asked a girl from his middle school to go out with him in his third year, Satoru never would have thought she’d laugh right in his face before calling him a useless nerd.

He didn’t let anything show. And yet, it was from that very day that Satoru’s glasses, his passion for science, and his own self-confidence betrayed him.

He decided to give up on feelings — classifying them as a deceitful, unscientific belief with a complete lack of logic, something better suited for grotesque purposes like the movies or romantic TV series that entertained uncultured people.

Satoru didn’t need emotions when logic always prevailed, never once disappointing him.

But upon entering university, he could never understand why — despite his silence and absolute discretion, buried in his studies — his cerulean blue eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.

You were the student council president of the school. Known for your upright mind, flawless organization, and a sense of justice so firm it sometimes bordered on harshness.

You had no time for anyone. You spent your days planning university events without wasting a single second — a notebook always pressed against your chest, and occasionally, a pair of glasses perched on your nose during intense activities like studying for exams or arranging event halls, which were regularly occupied by you and your staff.

What intrigued Satoru the most about you was your logic.

You planned everything, organized everything, all while maintaining grades nearly as excellent as his. You never wasted time hanging around with those ridiculous girls who would likely reject him if he ever dared to speak to them, and he had already admire witnessed you standing up for people like him — those trapped in their introversion and buried in their books — refusing to tolerate the injustice caused by the school’s most popular students.

A deep respect radiated from you.

Something Satoru refused to admit. Even though he knew you could short-circuit his brain in an instant.

Like that time when you had asked him for a pen at the library during your study session because he wasn’t far from your table. His face had turned crimson, and he could have sworn smoke was coming out of his ears. His mouth — so used to speaking with precision and efficiency — completely failed him in front of you.

The words got stuck in his throat, and the few sounds that miraculously managed to escape were nothing but incomprehensible stutters, earning him a confused frown from you.

In the end, he gave up on any attempt at conversation and simply handed you the best pen in his pencil case — his favorite. And he had almost silently prayed in his head that you would forget to return it so that you would keep it with you.

And he hated that.

This power you had over him — the way you made him nervous, shy, and desperate for you.

Just like in middle school.

Something he had sworn to leave behind.

~~~~

“NO, NO, AND NO!”

The event hall falls into a deathly silence as you shout your words with such force and vehemence that your fists crush the few sheets of paper still clutched between your tense fingers.

No one dares to move anymore — a part of the staff is busy moving boxes of decorations, two others are handing you papers to sign, some are hovering around you with questions, and others are amusing themselves by climbing ladders to place Christmas decorations — as if your scream alone has just pierced through the entire university.

With your jaw clenched, a vein pulsing at your temple, your cheeks flushed with anger, and your throat slightly irritated, you struggle to breathe as all attention shifts onto you.

“I said I haven’t decided on the organization of the Spring Formal yet, that nothing is supposed to be taken out, signed, or even requested until I’ve given the order, so what the fuck are you all doing here?!” you exclaim.

You push past the students in your way and snap your fingers at the two idiots fooling around with the decorations.

“You two — you’re fired.”

Then, you turn to the rest of the group handling the boxes. “If you don’t want to be fired too, hurry up and put that away!” Next, to the members waiting for you to sign papers. “Out!”

As the room empties in silence, filled with sulky and terrified faces at the thought of dealing with you, you take a deep breath before crouching down to the floor, burying your face between your knees, your arms trembling.

There isn’t much time left.

Director Yaga has given you a deadline to organize the Spring Formal, leaving you in charge of the theme, the venue, and the entertainment.

But, for the first time in your role, you are literally overwhelmed.

For the first time as well, no inspiration comes to you. The stress of classes, exams happening at the same time as the event date, your poor grades lately, and the pressure your team keeps adding on top of all that—at some point, you were bound to explode.

With all of this piling up, how are you supposed to manage?

That’s exactly what you asked yourself during your class that very afternoon, staring at your 40/100 in quantum physics.

With your heart sinking into your stomach, you hastily shove the paper into your bag, not caring in the slightest if it gets crumpled.

No one must see that the student council president allows herself to yell at her team while having such catastrophic grades. But your overloaded schedule no longer allows you to focus on your studies alone — how can you concentrate and stay organized when all you want to do is throw yourself out the window?

~~~~

“You need to register to require a tutor.”

“But I don’t need one.”

The male student raises an eyebrow. “So what are you doing here?”

You scoff. How dare he talk to you like that?

You’re in the library, one of the most soothing and stressful places in the world. You’ve had to find a way to get your grades up while you sort out your problem with Spring Formal, but in the meantime, you need to find a student who can tutor you without anyone knowing.

So what better way to find out than from the librarian’s assistant — who is also one of the Tutoring Center’s organizers?

“I need to know who’s the top student in quantum physics here,” you insist with a firmer tone.

Forgetting you’re at the entrance to the library, you purse your lips, a little embarrassed.

“We don’t have ‘top students’, prez,” he replies with a bitter smile — ah, so he knows who you are.

“So how do you help the students?” you ask with almost indignation.

He shrugs. “If you need help—”

“I do not,” you cut him off coldly, cheeks on fire as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. You sigh in annoyance at the student’s lack of efficiency.

“Then, how can I help you?” He gives you the most impertinent smile in the world, as if he’s just waiting for you to get the hell out.

You tuck a stray lock of your hair back behind your ear before rolling your eyes. “I need to talk to a top student in quantum physics, that’s all.”

The student looks at his fingernails as if they're the most important thing in the world and mimes huffing. “We don’t have any.” He looks up at you. “If you’re looking for one, there’s a nerd who’s the best in his class.”

Curiosity pricks the back of your neck, causing you to sit up straight. “Who?”

“Gojo, I think,” he said, frowning as if to remember his name. “Sato-thing, if I remember. Anyway, a nerd. You should know him, I guess.”

You shake your head, eyes almost squinting as you seek the memory of a Gojo name. But nothing comes to mind. So you shrug.

“What does he look like?”

“Albino. Blue eyes, nerd glasses, always dressed in a sweatshirt or shirt and he always has a book under his arm.”

“All right, thanks.”

Then you hurry out of the library and its oppressive walls, leaving the assistant to sigh with relief — as much as you do.

~~~~

“So, you are… Gojo Sato-thing?”

He has a little disappointed smile. “Satoru Gojo, prez.” With a nervous gesture, he places the strap of his shoulder bag back on his shoulder and adjusts his glasses, which slide down his nose.

You stare at him motionless for a few seconds, speechless at the all-too-perfect likeness of the Tutoring Center manager’s description. He’s got a book under his arm, a Digimon t-shirt over a dark blue plaid shirt and an innocent look on his face — he really wasn’t wrong.

You blink. “Um… yeah. Whatever.”

You check that no one in the corridor of the quantum physics wing has left any students lying around who might surprise you with him, then let out an exhausted exhale.

Faced with his 6'3, you owe it to yourself to raise your eyes and chin a little higher.

“I need your help. You're the best physics student in the class, right?”

He turns the toe of his shoe as a tic on the floor and nods imperceptibly.

“Perfect. I’ve got a little problem right now and—”

“Do you need me to do an assignment for you?” he says almost as if trying to divine your thoughts — is that hope you see in his eyes?

“No.” You knit your brows. “I’m having a problem with my grades and I’m swamped with my event responsibilities and I'm starting to get grades...” You chew the inside of your cheek to hide your pride before muttering, “...pretty bad. And I don’t feel like being given help publicly.”

In his confused expression, you add, “Otherwise it would be a real shame...”

From his height, Satoru’s shyness almost flies away in a gust. He’s got you there at last. In front of him. Talking about something. Like a dream come true — a reality where he no longer knows what his name is but whatever.

He even perceives a blushing creeping up your cheeks as you drift your gaze a little lower to your own shoes and your lips crumple into an adorably embarrassed and frustrated little pout.

Then of course he’ll help you.

He would give you more if he could, and he promises to himself he’ll do it.

“So you need me as your secret tutor?” he clarifies so softly.

You look up at him, clearing your throat. “Basically… yeah.”

“Fine. I can do that.” A small smile spreads across his pink lips and he digs his hands into his jeans, which are a little baggy for him.

You flicker your eyes, confusion animating your features. “Is that all?”

“Do you need anything else?” And you’d have sworn you saw hope still shining in his ocean-blue irises.

“What? No,” you retort incredulously. “But don’t you need something in return? Like, money or something?”

“...No,” he exhales, reducing his smile — though it still lingers. “I don’t mind helping you. Just give me your free hours so we can set a date. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he hastens to add, as if afraid of upsetting you.

Your lips part slightly. “O-Okay,” you finally say. “I’d like to do this as soon as possible.”

“How about today?” Satoru suggests, with a little more enthusiasm than he had anticipated himself. “Or even now, if you want.”

“Now?”

“Yeah,” he says with a happy nod.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too earl—”

Barely ten minutes later, you find yourself sitting next to him once again in the library, which, for once, is not too crowded, pretending to have a casual conversation while, in reality, he is analyzing your failed test papers with an expert eye.

One elbow resting on the polished wooden table, one hand holding one of your sheets between his fingers, and the other with his index and thumb supporting his chin, Satoru lets his gaze travel line by line over your flawless handwriting—so much so that he forgets he’s supposed to be concentrating on helping you.

And not on the pretty way you write the letter ‘S,’ wondering how close he’d be to a cardiac arrest if he ever saw his name written by your hand.

When he finally manages to analyze the mistakes on your paper, Satoru straightens slightly in his seat, adjusting the collar of his unbuttoned shirt that suddenly seems to be strangling him with an invisible noose, despite his neck remaining completely free. His heart pounds at the speed of light — almost literally.

Calculations and formulas have always been child’s play for Satoru; his brain has always been wired for logic, rationality, and the addictive thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins when he makes a new discovery, a new analysis that falls perfectly into place — like completing a puzzle and watching it come to life, or like a house of cards standing strong until the slightest imbalance brings it all crashing down.

You are the imbalance in Satoru’s logical and rational reasoning.

For Satoru, love is not a science. It’s just hormones that one must learn to control and not be fooled by.

And yet, even though he has devoted his body and soul to science, his heart will never cease to be yours — under your implacable and irrevocable hold.

Even with all the scientific weapons in the world, he will always be powerless before you.

With a flutter of snowy lashes, he returns to reality, setting his gaze on yours; persistent, waiting for him to say something, to give some kind of critique.

His mouth goes dry, heat rushes to his cheeks as he clears his throat, embarrassed.

“Well, uh... I guess we can start revisiting the notion of The Uncertainty Principle, if that’s okay with you.” He gives you a quick glance so unconfident that you restrain yourself from doing what you're thinking of: ripping off his adorable cheeks — adorable? Since when do you find nerds adorable?

“Okay,” you say, pulling a draft sheet closer.

As you move your chair closer to his to concentrate better thanks to the proximity, the effect is quite the opposite on poor Satoru. He nearly loses all composure when his trembling fingers close around his pencil.

“W-Well… Um, do you want me to give you a quick lesson on this again? You didn’t seem to grasp much of the concept.”

“If you can use simple words…” you mumble without much hope.

He swallows hard before explaining, “A rule in quantum physics says: you can’t know both the exact position and momentum of a particle at the same time. The more you know about one, the less you know about the other. Got it?”

You squint, uncertain, as you rest your chin in the hollow of your palm. “Mh-hmm…”

“So,” he draws two Delta symbols, each followed by an x and a p, then an equal sign, “this one represents the uncertainty in position while the other represents the uncertainty in momentum.” He leans slightly forward to clearly define the terms for you before breaking down the formula, trying not to sweat under the ghost of your breath caressing his hand because of how close you are.

“Okay. I don’t think I quite got all that.”

“It’s okay,” Satoru replies with a slight smile as he adjusts his glasses on his nose before returning to the sheet. “You confused uncertainty with actual errors in measurement, and you tried to calculate exact values for both position & momentum, which isn’t possible.” He draws an example of throwing a ball vs. tracking an electron. “You can’t pin down a quantum particle perfectly — it’s like me trying to figure out what you’re thinking all the time. Impossible, right?”

“...Right.”

“You don’t understand anything, right?” he sighs, a slight frown curling his lips.

“Honestly? Not a word,” you chuckle, a soft, honest melody that caresses his ears.

“Let’s make it more real for you, prez, then,” he snorts too, wiping away a big smile that deepens his dimples. “Imagine you’re running around campus planning this big Spring Formal thing. If I try to track exactly where you are at one moment, I have no clue where you’ll be the next second. But if I focus on how fast you’re moving between meetings, I can guess you’ll end up in the library… but I won’t know the exact second you get there. That’s basically the Uncertainty Principle — can’t have both at the same time.”

“Ohhhh, okay!” you say, a light illuminating your face. But a second later, your features drop. “But, wait… that doesn’t make sense. If we have better tools, we can just measure both, right?”

He chuckles softly. “Nope. Even if we had the best measuring tools in the universe, the universe itself won’t let us know both at the same time. It’s not a technology problem — it’s just how nature works.”

You groan, frustrated, and slump over your notes. “Physics is pain.”

He shakes his head, a lighter smile blooming on his lips. “You’ll get it, I promise. You just need time… and a good tutor.”

“You?” You snicker, but not meanly — just teasing him in this mood that feels so comfortable with him, something you never thought you’d experience. “You’re losing me more than I was before.”

You both sigh after a while, and he gives you a practice exercise, which you rush to complete so he can correct it.

For the first time in maybe weeks, or even months, you haven’t felt this light. Quantum physics has always been a difficult challenge to overcome, despite your habit of planning everything to avoid stress. But sometimes, doing everything alone has led you to not ask for help when you needed it the most.

So when someone reached out and showed you how relieving some of that weight could feel, the sensation sparked a desire in you — one that didn’t want this to end.

But you’re afraid it will make you dependent.

So it’s best not to get too attached, right?

~~~~

The following week, even though your understanding of quantum physics has somewhat improved, your stress refuses to do anything but skyrocket toward a full-blown anxiety attack.

Principal Yaga summoned you to his office because some students — the two you expelled last week — went to complain about your nervous and excessive behavior, claiming it warranted psychological support.

Outraged, you defended yourself by pointing out the inefficiency of your team, who fail to meet your needs without considering the mental load that comes with your responsibility as the student council president. And yet, that wasn’t enough to calm Yaga, who dismissed you with a stern reminder that if you don’t finalize the Spring Formal preparations soon, he won’t hesitate to replace you with a more competent organizer.

The mere thought — no, the haunting fear—of being replaced like a cheap supermarket doll plagues your nights with nightmares.

So, the obvious anxiety growing inside you bleeds into the most crucial moments — the moments when you’re supposed to stay focused instead of silently wallowing in your situation.

“Need help, prez?”

Ripped from your daze, you lift your gaze to the voice beside you, only now realizing that he’s been sitting next to you since the start of the lecture — completely unnoticed, completely ignored.

It’s Satoru, his laptop open in front of him, a small, friendly smile turned toward you—and only you. That tiny detail sends a strange, foreign wave through your stomach — not unpleasant, though.

“Oh, you’re here,” you mumble, turning your attention back to the professor.

“Since the very start, yes,” he replies, his voice softer now, tinged with a faint hint of disappointment as he twirls his pencil between his long, nimble fingers.

A silence settles between you, neither of you seeming inclined to break it.

In the lecture hall, only the sound of keyboards clicking and the amplified voice of the professor fill the large room. You try your best to follow along, scribbling notes as diligently as you can, but at this point, it feels like trying to form words by randomly pressing keys — you understand nothing.

“Need help?”

You slowly lift your head toward the familiar voice.

“You can explain it to me later, you know?” you mutter, careful not to let anyone else overhear your conversation — it could cost you.

“And we could save time by explaining it now.” His tone is soft, rational, kind, altruistic — every synonym that embodies maturity and gentle responsibility.

He’s made of sugar. Just for you.

You sigh, finally giving in with a nod, as Satoru flips his laptop into tablet mode to explain the purpose of the chapter — the name of which you’ve only just learned, despite an hour and a half of lecture on Wave-Particle Duality.

“So,” he says, writing the formula on his tablet with a stylus. “The general concept is quite easy. Quantum objects — like electrons — can act as both particles and waves, okay?”

You nod, leaning in closer to his shoulder to observe the definitions of the formula’s terms — a faint scent brushes against your senses. Clean laundry and a subtle drop of cologne. The scent imprints itself in your lungs pleasantly enough that you have to mentally slap yourself to keep from getting distracted from Satoru’s explanations.

He glances at you with those sharp blue eyes and raises an eyebrow. “You know what wavelength means?”

“It’s just for light, right?”

He snorts quietly. “Particles.”

“Oh.”

He holds back another laugh and continues his explanations.

Several minutes later, you find your eyes glued — no, entranced — by Satoru, this nerd with glasses that hide a brain far too brilliant for you. Maybe even for the entire university.

You notice it in everything he does — setting aside his physical appearance, which you’re starting to find cuter and cuter without even realizing it — every cell of his body breathes science, logic, the thirst for discovery. His brain analyzes every possibility, his fingers manipulate rationality, and his glasses help him weigh the pros and cons. His long, straight nose gives him an infallible instinct, a sixth sense that never fails, and his smile — his pretty, thin, pink lips—illuminate hypotheses with a dangerously innocent charm.

But he himself doesn’t even realize it.

“See? It’s like… imagine if you could be both a super serious president and a total mess at physics at the same time. Oh wait — that’s already happening,” he teases, a playful, cute smile blooming on his lips as he glances at you with sparkles in his eyes.

Oh, that damn smile.

And without meaning to, you join in his laughter, covering your mouth with your palm so as not to be heard as, for the first time in weeks, a weight is lifted from your shoulders. The little analogy that might have irritated you a few days ago seems silly to you. Why do it when he’s here?

The bell rings, announcing the end of class, and the hubbub of the students urges you to put your things away as much as possible before the teacher gives you more homework than you already have just to understand the lecture.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you make your way towards the exit, at the end of the herd of students who have made you lose sight of Satoru. A little disappointment contracts your heart, but after all, why should he be waiting for you? There was no need. You’re not friends. Just two students who are nice to each other (well, mostly Satoru).

So as you walk out of the lecture hall, you almost come face to face with a 6’3. Your nose collides painfully with a hard, bumpy surface — wait, of abs?

Impossible.

A hand much larger than yours wraps around your elbow to steady you and meets your eyes down on your wincing face.

“Oops, sorry,” Satoru apologizes as his smile evaporates. “Are you okay? I just wanted to wait for you.”

Was it abs?

“No worries, I'm fine,” you assure with a smile as self-conscious as it is forced, one hand rubbing your sore nose. “That's sweet.” Then you look away to calm the blush that spreads like a puddle from your neck to your scalp and pray it's unseen.

“You sure?” he insists with a concerned frown.

“...Sure.”

Once your face has cooled, your eyes stare at the spot on his torso where your nose collided. That flat spot under the shirt that appears a little less to you now, seen up close. It's as if with every swell of his breath, you can see the beginnings of an abdominal bulge, but you shake your head to get this far-fetched idea out of your head.

Letting your hand fall back, you offer him a more confident smile and lead the way. “Shall we?”

With a slower nod, he follows you.

To bridge the silence between the two of you in the deserted corridors, you nudge him in the ribs and say, “You know, I still don’t get how you find physics fun.”

He feigns pain and smirks — does he only smile when he’s with you?

“I don’t find it fun, strictly speaking, but really very interesting. At least, enough to make me face my major.” He pauses to give you a teasing look. “And I still don’t get how you survive on four hours of sleep.”

“I am a vampire,” you grin stupidly, “I love working at night. I feel productive.”

“I see that. Your bags speak for you,” he chortles.

“For real?” you mouth, running your fingers over your dark circles as if to check his words when it makes more sense to look in the mirror rather than feel you up.

“Just joking,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze on the floor a second before looking up back at you. “But you seem very stressed lately, am I wrong?”

You don’t answer right away, reluctant to tell him about your doubts and what’s been bothering you for weeks. But you can. This is just two friends from the same quantum physics class strolling around campus at the end of a long day, isn’t it?

But maybe not close enough for him to be really interested in you? Maybe he’s just asking questions out of politeness and not out of any real concern for you. After all, you’re not really close.

“It's alright, just uni and student council stuff, as always,” you murmur with averted eyes. “We also need to plan our next tutoring session.”

“Yeah...” Satoru shoves his hands in his pockets and lets silence fill the gap between the two of you before resuming. “Maybe we could do it somewhere else this time, couldn’t we?” he offers without much hope in his voice.

You knit your brows. “What?”

“I mean... do you—uh, never mind.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Huh?”

He seems to chicken out and look away but you catch it before he could hide it — the tips of his ears are red.

“Nothing. Just... you’re really into this whole Spring Formal thing, huh?” he mumbles.

“Of course. I have a lot of work to do on it. But what were you asking me?” you insist with a softer tone and your hand wrapping around his arm — remarkably built, you note internally.

He finally twists his neck toward you to face you, lips pursed into a conflicted pout.

“You’re going to refuse.”

“You didn’t even try to ask,” you almost in a mid gasp and chuckle.

He runs a hand through his tousled snowy hair, then slips it around the back of his neck, rubbing it like a nervous tic. “I see that you’re stressed — even if you deny it. So would you accept to... maybe do work on our tutoring lessons in a better place?” He panics slightly under your unfathomable gaze, just waiting for the next part of his words. “I mean... I know a place where it could be less stressful and more relaxing because you deserve it... But of course,” he adds hastily, “it doesn’t commit you to anything and you don’t have to accept and we can totally carry on doing it at the library because really it’s just a stupid idea and I should just keep my mouth shut—”

“Satoru.”

His heart stops beating and he thinks his brain has short-circuited as he realizes it’s the first time you've said his first name in that tone.

Softly, reassuringly, and with obvious joy.

“Of course I’d like to work with you somewhere else. It means a lot to me that you thought of me like that,” you say softly as you stop in front of some stairs so you can look him straight in the eye. “I can give you my phone number and you’ll just have to send me the address, how’s that?”

Okay. His brain really has just short-circuited.

He doesn’t even remember how he managed to hand you his phone and record your number, wish you a good evening and return to his dormitory after being subjected to your beaming smile — of a particular radiance he’s never seen before on your face in all the time, however long, he’s spent gazing at you wherever you are — radiant even.

Lying on his bed, he stares at the ceiling. The silent night allows his thoughts to grow louder, as if several were trying to express themselves at once.

However, one image takes root in his eyelids when he closes them before sleeping.

You.

~~~~

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Do you really need to make this even more embarrassing?”

You shake your head. “It’s not fair.”

His features sag, and he lets out a tiny sigh. “Just please, accept it. I made it for you.”

At your feet lies a picnic blanket with red and white checkered patterns. On top of it are homemade sandwiches, cans of fruit juice, berries, cakes, and even a tub of ice cream resting inside a mini cooler. Satoru has even arranged the space to avoid a chaotic mess while working and has brought ultra-comfortable cushions to make the tutoring session as pleasant as possible.

He can’t do this.

Not with you, who arrived at the quiet, sparsely crowded city park, right under the most magnificent Japanese cherry blossom tree.

The cool breeze blows gently around you both, sweeping away a few strands of your hair that you’re forced to tuck behind your ears.

“Sit your ass down,” Satoru mumbles, looking away to hide an obvious embarrassment, though his hand pats the empty space he left just for you.

So, reluctantly, you sit cross-legged, grabbing a random sandwich — just so he won’t sulk — and try not to cry because it’s so ridiculously delicious. The berries couldn’t be fresher or juicier than any you’ve ever tasted, and not to mention the cakes he brought. The majority of the food is sweet — his sweet tooth showing up a little too obviously.

“Hope it tastes good,” he adds, his lips forming a slight pout.

“Never ate something that good,” you respond, mouth full of food. “You’re an angel.”

The word makes him freeze for a solid thirty seconds before he shakes his head and lets his gaze drift away — always avoiding — toward the nearby lake.

The ground is sprinkled with pale pink petals, blending into the vibrant green grass of this March afternoon. A few birds chirp in the distance, hardly anyone comes near your secluded spot, and the peaceful silence reigning over the park creates the perfect environment for getting work done.

Swallowing his own mochi, Satoru watches you take out your notes on the latest physics chapter, and instead of sitting across from you, he allows himself to settle beside you this time — without you pulling away.

He was hesitant from the start and may never be able to stop feeling nervous around you. No matter how often he’s around you or how much more familiar he grows with your presence, he can’t control those sudden spikes of nervousness that hit when he’s already comfortable — only for one small action or movement to give his poor little heart a crisis.

You hand him the exercises you worked on last night, and while he reviews them, you take out your planner and notepad — the ones you carry everywhere (even to bed and the bathroom)—to go over the organization of the upcoming Spring Formal.

An event that’s happening soon. An event with absolutely nothing planned yet.

You quietly jot down notes on possible themes, but after another glance at the endless, sprawling branches of the massive cherry tree, you sigh and toss your notepad aside onto the picnic blanket. No ideas in sight. You have no choice but to admit your incompetence. Your failure is inevitable.

“Here.” Satoru hands you back your corrected exercises, and you quickly scan through them.

Since the beginning of your sessions with him, you have to admit — you’ve improved.

This time, there are fewer scribbles and corrections from Satoru. Your formulas and applications are more precise, clearer, and better developed. All thanks to your hard work and Satoru’s expert guidance — the science genius himself.

There are still some non-negligible mistakes to fix, but at least the encouraging smile from your tutor warms your chest, silently telling you that you’re on the right track.

“This is really not bad,” he murmurs softly near your shoulder. “You’re seriously improving.”

“Thanks to my good tutor,” you reply, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

“What flattery. I don’t deserve this much.” Yet his so-called humility is betrayed by the deep red blush dusting his ears.

“Quite the opposite. I wish I could pay you back somehow.”

“You don’t need to. I told you it was my pleasure to help you.”

“And I feel bad about it,” you confess in a whisper.

“Don’t,” he insists — and dares to wrap his slightly trembling, warm hand over yours on the blanket.

Your heart flutters, like a butterfly trying to take flight, only to be tossed around by the wind.

“Thank you,” you whisper, with more honesty than you’ve ever given anyone.

“For being a good friend? Don’t worry, I’m glad to have you as well, honestly,” he murmurs back, punctuating his words with a light squeeze of your hand.

“And I—” he clears his throat, “...really appreciate you.”

Friends. Appreciate you.

“I appreciate you too. Really. I’m sorry if I mess up every move you try with me to help me,” you add with an apologetic smile. “Stress always ruins my life.”

“I told you that you couldn't deny it.” He raises his eyebrows and lift up an uncertain arm — seeing you not reacting has reassured him enough to pluck up the courage to pass it around you to console you. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You let yourself go against him, burying half your face against him. “I’m in deep shit about organizing the Spring Formal. I haven’t prepared anything, I have no idea, and yet I’ve got plenty to do. Mr. Yaga warned me that he might replace me if I went on like this, and I feel like everything’s going to shit,” you say in a breath, a tiny barrier of vulnerability cracking.

His arm tightens in an attempt at comfort. He nods slowly, inhaling long breaths of fresh air before making a clicking sound with his tongue.

“Where’s your notepad?”

You hand it to him without protest, and he immediately grabs it and flips through it. Then, when he finds a blank page, he grabs a pen lying near the two of you and jots down a few sentences, the words of which you can only read when he hands you the notebook.

“An alignment of the planets?” You raise a curious, surprised eyebrow.

He nods with his chin and sketches a smile.

“It only happens in spring, practically. And there will be one before long.” He squeezes his arm around you again and chuckles. “A theme about planets might be nice, don’t you think?”

Lips parted, you gaze into the azure sky. Himself a little disarmed by your lack of reaction, he frowns without giving up his smile and softly pronounces your first name.

With zero control over your movements, there’s nothing to stop your lips from pressing tenderly against Satoru’s smooth, soft cheek — a firm but gentle kiss leaving an invisible, indelible trace on his radiant skin as you pull away to look into his eyes again.

“You're an angel,” you repeat a second time.

Well, the second time too, when Satoru’s heart, no longer knowing how to beat, simply stops beating.

~~~~

“Move them a little more to the right— Yes, that’s perfect.”

Your trusty notepad clutched against your chest, you admire the preparations unfolding in the venue for the upcoming Spring Formal, where the theme of planetary alignment is set to make this year’s university event truly unforgettable.

Finally, you’re no longer spending your time yelling at your team and barking orders fueled by the vibrant sparks of your stress. Instead, you’re giving clear instructions, each one accompanied by an encouraging smile for everyone.

“Maybe we could add midnight blue velvet curtains,” Satoru suggests, leaning over your shoulder, his chest brushing pleasantly against your back as he glances at the list of missing decoration orders. “We could stick fake stars on them, and it’ll draw more attention to the planets. What do you think?”

“I like the idea,” you giggle, despite the way your insides somersault when his warm breath grazes your ear, sending waves of goosebumps down your skin. You jot down a few notes as Satoru leans in even closer, gently resting his chin on your shoulder. “Not surprising, coming from the quantum physics genius of the entire university.”

Even though there’s nothing official between you — not if you ignore the feelings and trust that make Satoru more confident and relaxed in your presence — nor any concrete relationship, the warm intimacy settling between you two is anything but uncomfortable.

It’s like a mutual friendship, fully acknowledged by both of you, yet intertwined with threads of love left unspoken — often betrayed by moments of closeness like this one.

“You’re gonna make me blush again,” he admits with a light laugh, soft and delicate as a cherry blossom petal.

“Oh yeah?” You turn your head toward his — just enough for your faces to be so close that the tips of your noses brush. “Why?”

He sighs, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment before opening them again. “You know why…”

“I’m clueless when it comes to guessing thoughts, my hot nerd tutor,” you coo, a little grin spreading across your lips — those same lips he wanted to kiss until he couldn’t breathe anymore for the rest of his life.

“Maybe I could show you, then.” And gently, he places his hands around your waist, an easy, soothing smile on his face. “Is that okay if I do that?” After your nod, his smile grows even wider. “Also, could we do our next session at my place? I can’t stay at the library today because my mom is waiting for a package while she’s at work, so she asked me to take care of it.”

“Of course.” You take note of his suggestion while the rest of your team rushes to decorate the room and move boxes — some opened, some not. Then, you turn back to him, feeling the slight tremor of his hands against your body, the way the blood rushes alarmingly fast to his face, and how his eyes avoid yours.

“Blushing?” you giggle.

“You’re not embarrassed? I mean— It’s my place, not my dorm or the library, you know,” he mumbles.

You graze a kiss on his soft cheek and grin. “You’re freaking cute.”

“I’m not joking,” he whines lowly, a small, worried furrow forming between his brows.

“As am I.” You give his arm a little squeeze. “Everything’s gonna be alright. I don’t mind having you all alone in your house, though.”

And you burst into laughter when he chokes on his own saliva at your words — having never seen someone turn so red before.

~~~~

“I knew you liked physics, but not that much.”

Before coming to set foot in Satoru’s room for the first time, you expected to be dealing with a simple, uncluttered, organized room, and above all far more filled with bookcases overflowing with books rather than...

...the opposite.

Stepping into Satoru’s room feels like entering a nerdy galaxy of controlled chaos. His desk is cluttered with thick physics textbooks, some stacked neatly, others left open mid-read, pages filled with complex equations you can’t even begin to understand. Among them, a few manga volumes peek out, half-hidden like a guilty pleasure. Above, a whiteboard covered in messy formulas and doodles dominates the wall, the marker strokes chaotic but somehow full of purpose. His ceiling is scattered with glow-in-the-dark stars, forming actual constellations if you look closely, and a floating moon lamp sat on his nightstand, casting a soft glow over his unmade bed.

Everywhere you turn, there is something to mess with — a plasma ball that lit up at your touch, a Newton’s Cradle clicking rhythmically on his desk, even a weird futuristic clock displaying time in some incomprehensible format. His monitors hum with life, one running a sci-fi screensaver while another had what looks like a physics simulation he’d probably forgotten about. 

And yet, despite the overwhelming nerd energy, it was… comfortable. Lived-in. A place where ideas sparked and theories came to life — exactly what you could imagine his space would be if you’d thought things through a bit more.

“Wow,” you murmur, entranced. “It’s… just beautiful. Like a museum.”

“Heh? You’re flattering me really too much,” he chuckles nervously, scratching his neck where his undercut is. “But I’m glad if you like it. I want you to feel home,” he adds softly.

“Home?” You turn to him with a slightly embarrassed and moved smile. “You’re my home, actually.”

Nothing you say makes sense. Your racing heart lets your mouth babble nonsense and scare Satoru away. You’re far too embarrassing—

“I feel the same for you.”

Like a needle piercing a balloon, your vital organ explodes in your chest.

The next second, your brain regains control and orders your legs to move towards him, until your torsos brush against each other and your breaths mingle, giving birth to a gentle flame that burns only to be consumed.

Satoru whispers your name. “Can I try something?” he mouths.

You nod imperceptibly, your gaze lost in his ocean eyes.

Tenderly and with the most delicate gentleness, he cups your cheeks, tilting your head so that your face faces directly forehead to his. So close, you have a detailed view of the number of his light eyelashes, the different shades of blue mingling in his irises, the pleasant warmth of his tepid breath against you.

Then, his lips brush yours first, as if testing your reaction. But when your fingers latch onto his light-brown V-neck sweater, he feels the pressure rise in his blood and slowly, but suddenly, crushes his lips against yours.

It’s not rushed — just a soft press of lips, tentative, almost careful. As if he's afraid of breaking something fragile. So to encourage him, you sigh softly in contentment, then tilt your head the slightest bit to fit better, closer... Your hands remain gently clasped to his sweater.

He seems to get your message, because the next thing you know, he’s relaxing, moving more slowly and comfortably against yours. The world outside that moment doesn’t exist. Just him, just this — his lips, softer than you expected, the careful way he kisses you, as if he is memorizing every second of it. Time stretches thin, and even when you finally pull apart, neither of you move far.

Slowly, you open your eyes, only to find him already looking at you. His gaze is different now — quieter, warmer, like he is seeing you in a way he never had before.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is soft, not awkward, filled with a kind of understanding that doesn’t need words. And then, just barely above a whisper, Satoru exhales a quiet, shaky laugh.

“Oh.”

Just that — like he hasn’t expected this, like he’s still processing the fact that it happened at all. And maybe it’s the way he looks at you, stunned and a little breathless, or maybe it’s just the warmth still lingering between you, but you find yourself smiling, a tiny, barely-there curve of your lips.

“Yeah,” you murmur back, voice quieter and warmer than you intended.

Neither of you moved away. Not yet.

You lower your head, a hot flush creeping up your cheeks and neck, and that's when you also understand where his “oh” is coming from.

Oh.

While he turns away to hide his face in his hands and prays to be buried in a grave on the spot, you burst out laughing — a frank, non-judgmental laugh. Simply savoring this pleasant moment with him (albeit with one small problem).

“Just with a kiss? Satoru, I swear you’re the cutest!” you continue to laugh, half-folding with your arms hugging your belly.

“It’s not f-funny!” And the poor guy doesn’t even dare turn around as he adjusts his pants, which is where his “problem” lies.

Smiling, you move closer to him, your lips still prickling from the perfect kiss. One of your hands slips to his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he mumbles, hiding his face again from your sight.

“It is,” you insist, wrapping your hand around his wrist to look at him. “I’m not judging you, I swear. It’s not like you can control that, is it?”

“I know, but— It’s so embarrassing. I feel like a poor virgin nerd that — well, It’s not like I am not but—”

You freeze, slowly losing your smile. “Wait… you’re a virgin?”

He nods, a little shameful pout creasing his lips.

“I—” you trail off. Taking a short breath, you lower yourself a little more to look at him as he covers his crotch with one hand. “I can help you with that, you know.”

His eyes widen, heart hammering in his rib cage. “W-What?”

An umpteenth laugh shakes your chest. “I mean, yeah. I don’t mind and I like you.” Then an idea pops into your head, like a lamp regaining its light. “Like, it would make up for the effort you put into helping me get good grades. What do you think?”

He straightens abruptly and gently but firmly pushes your hand away by the wrist. A serious look despite his embrace adds.

“No way. I already told you I don’t want anything in return.”

“But it’s just to please you,” you insist, flickering your eyes. “Don’t you want to know how it feels?” You take a few steps forward until you can wrap your arms around his perfect torso — the ideal balance of slim and muscular.

Your chin rests on his breastbone, a little imploring pout on your lips.

“C’mon, just an oral, I promise. I want to return the favor.”

He swallows hard, lips parted as if the words are stuck somewhere between embarrassment and want. His gaze flickers between your face and the floor, a mix of reluctance and curiosity in his eyes.

“But I—” His voice cracks slightly, a nervous laugh escaping him. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

You smile, a quiet, knowing smile, and slide your fingers slowly down his arm, your touch lingering on his skin. “It’s okay,” you say, your breath barely above a whisper. “I’ll guide you.”

You can see him shiver at the words, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You take your time, moving in closer, making sure to leave no space between you. Your lips brush against his jaw, a delicate kiss that makes his entire body stiffen for a split second. He doesn’t pull away, though, and that’s enough to encourage you to go further.

“Just relax,” you tease, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “I promise I’m not going to bite.”

“I know, I just need to sit a bit,” he whispers, a wave of uncertainty in his eyes.

You pull away from him, feeling the palpable tension between the two of you. “Of course.” You take his hand in yours and guide him onto his bed. When he sits down on the mattress, you find yourself kneeling between his legs.

As your hands busily unzip his straight gray twill pants, you maintain eye contact. “Tell me if it’s too much or if you wanna stop, okay love?”

Love.

He nods gently, his elbows pressed into the softness of the mattress to get a view of your movements without him lying down completely. Lips trembling, Satoru feels obliged to bite them to calm himself as the heat almost suffocates him while all he has left is his boxer shorts hiding his growing erection under the thin fabric.

You can feel the air thickening between you, charged with the kind of quiet intensity that makes your pulse race. Your fingertips wrap around the waistband of his boxers and tug them down gently, letting the fabric rub against his length while he’s hissing.

“Sweetheart—”

“Relax, I’m just getting started,” you chuckle fondly.

When the underwear is pulled down, his erection springs free, slamming on his half-covered abdomen. The poor little thing, left alone, twitches painfully — dragging sounds like cute and innocent whimpers from Satoru — like it’s begging for your touch for a decade.

You curl your lips together, genuinely stunned by his size. 7 inches isn’t nothing.

“So you’re packing this from the start?”

“I— No…” He sighs, clenching his jaw as his eyes flutter closed. “Please, it’s already embarrassing.”

“But why? You’re beautiful, Satoru. And I’m not talking about your dick,” you snort. Your gentle, affectionate tone makes Satoru forget how to breathe and open his eyes again. “You’re beautiful on the inside too.”

“You’re only flattering—”

“I am not,” you state firmly, getting up from your knees to straddle his hips and cup his cheeks until they puff like mochi’s and he’s pouting.

Fucking adorable.

“Have you ever been into a relationship?” you whisper after pecking a kiss on the corner of his lips.

He shakes his head, stuttering a no.

“So  can I call you mine? Because I’d be yours if I could,” you mutter next to his jaw where you peck another kiss that makes him shiver and grip your hips with his hands.

He opens his mouth to say something and hesitates. “A-Are you sure?” he asks, eyes filled with doubt. ‘I’m a nerd and—”

“And my type is nerd guys,” you cut him off before pulling him into a passionate kiss. He gasps, tightening his grip on your as his lips gently taste your and steal his breath away. “I love you, Satoru.”

“Love you more. Since the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he murmurs back between kisses, eyelids shut.

You slightly pull away, a smile springing to your lips. “Pinning on me for so long? Aw, sorry to have been blind for this long too, then.”

He resists the urge to take you in his arms and lets you back down onto your knees, this time with his oversensitive cock throbbing in your hands as you begin to stroke it up and down, base to tip with all the slowness you can manage so as not to make him cum too quickly.

Satoru’s hips jerk up instantly, his chest rising and lowering because of his stuttering breath.

“Your hands feel so good and soft,” he whispers, sliding his big hands up to your shoulders, which he gently massages to relax you too. What a gentleman. “So much better than mine…”

“Yeah? You like it?” Eager to please him for his first time, you place a kiss on his angry red tip, licking a little strop with the tip of your own tongue.

“Hgn— easy,” he pants, hands shaking slightly as they interrupt their massages on your shoulders when yours lead them on your head, tangled with your locks. “What are you—”

“You can use my hair, if you want.” And you punctuate your words by taking his length back between your hands and kiss the fat head. It twitches in response, stealing little giggles from your sweet lips. Beads of precum leak along his length, helping you to wet him enough to stroke him faster as you part your lips and slide them down the length of him.

Satoru’s breath hitches when you take him, sucking in slow, deep strokes as your hand grips the base of him. You pull back slightly, your lips sliding back up, and you hear him groan, a sound that makes you ache. You repeat the motion, taking him deeper, sucking harder as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your mouth before you pull back again.

“Feel good?” you ask sweetly.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes out — even whimpering in neediness, “thank you so much…” His hands tighten in your hair, pulling you even closer, but it’s not enough.

You don’t stop. Instead, you take him deeper, your lips tightening around him as you move faster, the sound of your mouth on his cock filling the room, drowning out everything else. Satoru’s breath grows shallow, irregular, his body starting to tense, his legs flexing as he tries to hold back.

But you can feel it. The way he is so close, the way his body is winding tighter with every flick of your tongue. His fingers pulled at your hair, unsure to guide you just how he wants because what you were doing is already something he’ll owe you all his entire life — he is desperate, needing his release.

“F-Fuck,” he stutters, fingers digging in your scalp deliciously for you pleasure. “I love you, but please, g’nna—”

“—cum? Yeah, do it, love,” you purr affectionately as you teasingly suck his sensitive tip until he’s whining and fighting for his hips to not thrust up and hurt you.

He is there — at the edge — his cock twitching in your mouth, and you know he can’t hold on much longer. With one last deep, slow pull, he cums, his hips jerking as he releases into your mouth with a long, desperate groan. You swallow every drop, sucking him clean, your hands gently massaging his thighs as he slowly comes down from the high.

Satoru’s breath is ragged, his body shuddering as he slowly opens his eyes. He looks at you like you’re some sort of angel from heaven, and you smile, wiping the corner of your mouth before standing up.

“Feel better?” you ask teasingly, your voice light despite the heat still pooling in your stomach.

He sighs deeply, rubbing his eyes before carefully sitting up and hugs you in a tight embrace. He blows kisses all over your face, murmuring thank yous and how much he loves you and you find yourself in awe.

“You’re welcome, it’s the least that I can do for you, after all.” You press a big, firm, and sincere kiss on his cheek, and cannot stop smiling.

~~~~

The main room is bathed in a deep blue, soft, ambient light, the atmosphere almost otherworldly. Stars shimmer faintly on the walls, and delicate, hanging lanterns cast a stunning cold glow, like constellations scattered across the ceiling. The whole room seems alive, breathing with energy, as guests drift through the space, their laughter and chatter blending into a gentle hum.

At the center of the hall are huge telescopes, available for anyone curious enough to observe tonight’s planet alignment. The most important event of the Spring Formal.

Around the perimeter, tables are set with shimmering candles, their flames flickering softly, casting shadows on the faces of the students who’ve come to admire the setup. The smell of roses and lavender lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of freshly baked treats at the snack table. It feels like a dream — a celebration of the night sky brought to life.

Satoru stands beside you, his hand lightly brushing against yours as you both take in the beauty of the room. His smile is small but warm, his gaze drifting from the decorations to the crowd. There’s an unspoken pride in the way he looks at you, knowing you had a hand in making all of this happen, bringing the theme of the planets to life with such care.

“This is... perfect,” he says, voice soft but full of admiration. His words are simple, but they carry weight. You feel a soft warmth settle in your chest at the sincerity in his tone.

A small smile blooms on your lips. “Yeah…” you agree, turning to face him fully, now a grin spreading across your face. “It really turned out great. Thanks to you.”

His cheeks tint pink at the praise, and he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, but the pride in his eyes is unmistakable.

“You really made this all come together,” he says, voice full of admiration. “It’s amazing.”

For a moment, you simply smile at each other, a comfortable silence settling between you. The warmth of his gaze makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“Want to dance?” you ask, already knowing his answer, but wanting to ask all the same.

He hesitates for a moment, that same shy, unsure side of him creeping back, but the smile on his lips says everything.

“Yeah,” he says, his hand finding yours once again, this time with more confidence. “I’d love to.”

As you both step onto the dance floor, the lights change again, and for a moment, the two of you are surrounded by the glow of the stars and lanterns, your bodies moving to the soft music that fills the room. It’s not a fast, frantic dance — just slow and gentle, like you’re in your own little world. You feel the gentle sway of the music, and the weight of everything around you fades, leaving just the two of you in perfect harmony.

Maybe it’s the magic of the planets aligning, or maybe it’s just him — but either way, you think, you wouldn’t mind orbiting around Gojo Satoru a little longer.

a/n: there we go! I AM DRAINED BC OF SCHOOL AND COURSES GUIDANCE BC LAW IS SO HARDDDD!! hum hum, beside that, i hope you guys had a nice week and that you are all taking care of your little faces (if not i'm gonna do it for you). writing this felt like... refreshing? i mean, nerdjo is the little mochi i'm eating when i go to the supermarket lol. and gosh, he's so cute that i'm going crazy haha.

reblogs, comments, and likes are very appreciated as always <3

also, this is how i pictured this cutie pie:

tags: @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wisheclairr @sanemistar @monokaix

[therealtsk]

I’m thinking about RWBY AU where Ruby’s silver eye powers are far more unsettling and Spooky, with lots of Catholic imagery and allusions to her powers being something akin to an angel’s wrath. Something divine and Holy and terrifying.

trapdoor

[fandom]

TV Shows

Gods, angels, demons, dragons, vampires, and a bunch of first responders in LA.

Gravity Falls +56

Hazbin Hotel

Good Omens -2

Doctor Who +11

Interview with the Vampire +12

House of the Dragon +13

9-1-1 +18

Bridgerton +37

Percy Jackson and the Olympians +31

Supernatural

The Owl House -9

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles -7

Avatar: The Last Airbender +19

Danny Phantom +4

Stranger Things -12

Dead Boy Detectives

Hannibal +9

Our Flag Means Death -12

Fallout

House MD +43

The Bad Batch +23

Loki +13

Ninjago +24

The Eurovision Song Contest -8

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir -18

Adventure Time -17

Agatha All Along

Star Trek: The Original Series +51

Steven Universe +12

Criminal Minds +37

Lego Monkie Kid +7

The Umbrella Academy

Merlin

Arcane +14

Heartstopper -15

The Last Of Us -32

Obi-Wan Kenobi +12

Star Wars: The Clone Wars +17

X-Men '97

The 2024 US Presidential Debate

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine +20

Smiling Friends

Game of Thrones +23

Young Royals -13

The 81st Golden Globe Awards +20

The Bear +30

Phineas and Ferb +44

The Acolyte

South Park -13

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Outer Banks +19

Sonic Prime -19

The Fairly OddParents: A New Wish

Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake -43

The Boys

Yellowjackets -29

The Muppets +12

The Sandman -29

Succession -51

Gotham +29

The 96th Academy Awards +7

Blue Eye Samurai

The Terror

Voltron: Legendary Defender

The Untamed -7

Buffy the Vampire Slayer +22

Invader Zim +33

The Sanremo Music Festival +29

Shadow and Bone -56

Total Drama

Ninjago Dragons Rising

The Dragon Prince -33

The 2024 MTV Video Music Awards

The Mandalorian -60

Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

What We Do In The Shadows -53

Community +5

Teen Titans

Young Justice

The Walking Dead +16

The 76th Primetime Emmy Awards

Metalocalypse -43

Transformers: Prime

Star Wars Rebels -11

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia -25

Teen Wolf -49

Supergirl +7

The Witcher -67

Pit Babe

The 66th Annual Grammy Awards -3

Classic Doctor Who

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic

Breaking Bad -43

Super Bowl LVIII

Amphibia -20

Abbott Elementary -50

The Simpsons -23

My Adventures With Superman -47

Twin Peaks

Over the Garden Wall

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

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