#SOMEONE HELP I AM BURSTING WITH QUESTIONS AND THEORIES

[x-moonsoul-x]

Cloaking broaches in rise

How do cloaking broaches work, like, I’m so curious. I assume it’s the gem, so I *assume* it can take other forms. (Like a ring or something, maybe.) But if one were injured while the broach is active, would the injury transfer onto the corresponding part of their original form? And can it be used in the opposite way, where a human could disguise as a mutant? And where does the gem come from, what’s the rarity, what region, how much does it cost? Does it just disguise the wearer, or does it change their actual *form* and not just appearance? Can they choose it, or is it chosen for them? Would it be based on DNA for the turtles? (Splinter’s) Can they only have the one form? Big Mama mentioned that her original form is more comfortable, so I’m curious if that’s because she’s just more used to her spider form, or something to do with the cloaking broach actually constricting her in some way. If one of the turtles wore a broach and while in human form, got an injury on their back, how would that transfer to their turtle form? Would it be under their shell? On their shell? Would their backs be harder in human form? Or normal. I have so many questions about mystics.

I’m so interested in the mystics, I wish we had more time and I hope rise gets a s3. There’s so much potential with just broaches alone, but imagine all the other mystic baubles. Draxum knows a lot about mystics and alchemy, I’d love to see his knowledge of the mystics more; like we did with the orb.

I am a ball of curiosity and I love rise, anyways, love. I hope this is compressible, my words do not often come out quite correctly when I’m writing out what I’m thinking, you know? ANYWHO, but for real this time, buh bye, please help. <3

[imminent-danger-came]

Eldritch Abomination MK Theory

OKAY. @the-punning-ubus

I just want to say reading these tags are SO validating, because I have my little "MK was an eldritch abomination thing pre-hatching from stone" theory and seeing someone else come to pretty much the same conclusion feels good.

I've been meaning to write a proper theory post on this for a while, so now is as good of a time as any!

Obviously we have Wukong's "Not just anyone can wield my staff, but you did" from A Hero is Born and "The staff's just a big 'ol stick bud! It takes someone special to wield it" from 3x03, but there's also something in 1x09 Macaque:

Macaque: "Your staff kinda gives you away dude, not just anyone can wield that thing."

-

Macaque: "Ohohoh no, can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means—there really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick."

-

-

The sweet irony of "There really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick!" followed immediately by MK lifting the staff again is not lost on me.

So, from s1 it was pretty obvious that Wukong didn't "give" MK any form of power, but we knew that already with MK being a monkey demon and all. I just think it's particularly intriguing that all of this was laid out in the same episode where MK proclaims "I am the weapon!". In all honestly, he probably was/is.

One of the main questions coming out of s4 is "why was MK created?"—Monkey King's stone was used to form another, but for what purpose? To what end? What reason was MK at the center of all these stories?

Well, here's my current theory:

MK was something in a past life, and that something needed to be contained—and so, to put a stop to past life eldritch abomination MK, he was then sealed away in the stone.

I think this scene in particular raises some alarm bells:

The stone cracks open, bursts with light, and then it closes—like something was put inside it. The scene could of course just be an aesthetic choice, or chosen to be this way for another reason we don't know yet, but it just feels so deliberate. A ball of light appearing from the stone, then another ball of light in the mystery woman's hands being revealed to hold a monkey, and then the stone reforming around the ball of light. I just can't help but feel there's something there.

Next I want to discuss the two key things that make me feel this theory has merit:

1.) MK has made a habit of breaking out of things he shouldn't be able to (the calabash in 1x05, the trigram furnace in 2x00, the scroll in 4x07, Destiny itself in 3x14) and the stone would be no exception.

2.) Every antagonist in this show has been sealed away in some form, then being released to resume their plans from before being sealed. Here's a list:

DBK was sealed under the mountain, and after being released continued his plan of world domination.

Spider Queen was metaphorically trapped in her fallen empire, and after being given the chance to rule the above world once again, immediately takes it.

The Lady Bone Demon was imprisoned in her tomb, and after being released prematurely (before learning the error of her ways), she continued her plan to destroy the world and create a new one.

Azure Lion was imprisoned in the scroll, and upon being released (by an unknown 3rd party), immediately worked to free his friends and then end the Jade Emperor's reign.

Now, I love foils, so MK breaking out of the stone he was sealed in, yet coming out an actually changed being unlike everyone else in this show, would be DELICIOUS:

Lady Bone Demon: ”No backup and no weapon? So, you’re plan is to fist fight a child?” Sun Wukong: “We both know that’s not what you are.”

(3x11 This Imperfect World)

-

Lady Bone Demon: "STOP! Have you forgotten? Destroy me and you destroy the host! Have you become so desperate to end me that you would sacrifice this blameless innocent child?" Sun Wukong: "You're giving me no choice! All the time you spent locked away, and you haven't changed a bit! I'm going to finish you, like I should have done a long time ago! I told you—you should have stayed buried."

(3x11 This Imperfect World)

-

Subodhi: "I have not brought you to your master. Although this is the stone from which Sun Wukong once sprung, it appears overtime, it was used to form another. A simple creature, with no past, no family, and no name. There is a reason you were at the center of these stories—a reason you can harness the power of the Monkey King himself!"

(4x06 Show Me the Monster)

-

(If you want extra fodder for this, please see this parallels post :3)

So, if MK were to hatch out of the stone—where *he* was sealed away—and he actually came out of it a "blameless innocent child" with "no past, no family, and no name", it would work exceedingly well. Wukong's not above giving people second chances, but if you use that second chance to try and destroy the world, you force his hand.

(Side note: it could also be the case that the stone was used to "reset" whatever MK was in his past life, and Wukong was originally meant to destroy whatever came out of the stone—which could be the reason he stayed at Flower Fruit Mountain for hundreds of years. However, when an child came out, a new being without a past or the memories of what it was before—Wukong choose to let it go. He choose to let it live a normal life—or even ensuring it could live a normal life—and it then found it's way to Pigsy. This definitely gets into real crack theory territory, but I did want to bring it up.)

Now, none of this is even mentioning the suspiciously MK shaped figure in the mural from 3x13:

Now, the figure in this mural is only shown when MK is also on screen, which is framing that drives me insane. Perhaps this is when they first caught MK's past life, then finally able to subdue him and seal him in the stone.

And so, if MK really was this terrible chaos driven abomination in his past life, what does that mean ✨thematically✨?

Well,

Sun Wukong: “Point is, mistakes happen, but so long as you leave the world in better shape than you found it, then it’s all good. Right?”

(4x01 Familiar Tales)

-

SWK: “ENOUGH! I’ve never let anyone dictate my destiny in the past, and I’m not about to start now. None of us are! We can’t change who we were yesterday or in a past life, or a hundred life times ago! We live with the choices we’ve made, for what matter is the choices we make RIGHT NOW! Only we decide who we are and what we do with the power we have.”

(4x07 Pitiful Creatures)

-

MK can't change who he was in a past life. He can't change that the roads all lead to pain. But you know what he can do? He can try. He can try and get a little bit better every day. He can try and help people. He can try and make the world better than he found it.

Maybe in a past life, MK caused just as must chaos and destruction as Wukong did in his past. Maybe he caused even more problems then he has as the Monkie Kid. But that also doesn't undo the good he's doing now.

Anyways, that's my "MK was an eldritch abomination thing pre-hatching from stone" theory. Hope you enjoyed

[takenbypeter]

It's me, hi! (Last one I promise)

But I was wondering if you could write about Wonka and reader watching a horror movie, and afterwards, as she would feel scared, him trying to make her feel better/safe by holding her, maybe singing to her..? It's just an adorable thought 🥹 thank you!

Movie Mistakes

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 638

You couldn’t believe you actually caved. 

Typically you would do anything and everything to avoid scary films, all because you knew how it would affect you. 

Some jump scares by themselves you could handle, but if added the suspense, tension, and music, you were a goner.

Now to be fair this particular movie was one you actually did want to see. You heard so many great things about it when it came out, but still you were in debate about actually watching it. As always though Willy had convinced you. 

As much as you tried to act like you weren’t phased by all the blood, jumps, and slightly horrific deaths throughout the film, you couldn’t help but flinch at each noise, eventually opting for the view from behind the cracks between your fingers. Willy on the other hand, seemed to be unbothered. 

In fact he was so engrossed by the film he didn’t even notice how tense you were. At least not until you were home.

Now Willy knew of your nature with scary movies just from what you’ve told him but by the way you were agreeing with all his thoughts and theories on the way back had him believing you were alright. It wasn’t until he left you to take a shower and then returned, finding you on the bed with your head and body completely enveloped in a quilt that he realized something was off.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a hint of laughter hidden in his voice. The question prompted you to shift underneath the cloth, still keeping it wrapped around your head.

“Huh?” He heard, muffled. 

Shaking his head he came over, picked up the quilt and stuck his head underneath finding you in the process. 

“Are you alright?”

“Oh me? Yeah I’m fine, just imagining a world where who knows what comes out from my closet and tries to strangle me in the worst possible way, but I’m fine, I’m good.”

Willy tilted his head clearly not believing your words and your promising boxed smile that was obviously forced. So again he lifted the quilt and climbed in while you moved over to make more room for him. 

“I thought you were okay.”

“I am, I'm just afraid to close my eyes, and I have to sleep with my head covered and my back to the wall.”

Willy reached out, his hand coming to rest against your face while his thumb ran over your cheek a couple times before he moved it downwards stopping on your shoulder, “if someone comes through those doors they’re going to have to get through me first,” he said. The idea was ultimately hilarious to you, being that Wonka didn’t have a harmful bone in his body, but it did help you in feeling a little bit better. 

“If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve never pushed for it,” he said and you shook your head. “I wanted to watch it. I went to see it. I’ll be fine.”

Willy glanced over your face, “what can I do to help?”

You bit the inside of your bottom lip for a quick second, maybe out of embarrassment, or probably just pure nerves but all you said was, “just stay with me tonight, please?”

It may seem like a such a simple request but for a chocolatier who sometimes got random bursts of ideas in the middle of the night, it would prove to be slightly more difficult. But still he agreed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

With that being said Willy opened his arms and you naturally crawled in. 

That night you slept well and it was all thanks to the warmth of Willy’s body around yours. That warmth plus the light humming coming from the boy quickly put both you and him sound asleep. 

[silverskye13]

Hi, I just came from reading the last chapter of RnS, and I am once again shaking by how strong it made me feel, which is also finally giving me the strength to ask this, finally.

How do you write compelling, logical emotions? Like, you are writing as you go, and yet I go back and everything reads with such a sound conclusion, like the characters are feeling what they're meant to be feeling, like their emotions are deeply complex and it's just, how? Are there any tips you can give?

Have you studied any writing theory, or have you got any advice on dissecting pieces of writing for improvement? Because I feel like there's oh so much I can get from "improving from writing more"

Thank you for the kind words. Gosh I'm glad the emotions all make sense. I feel like that's one of the harder things to juggle -- especially when posting chapter by chapter, where sometimes weeks go by between scenes. It gets easy to lose things.

Answers to questions [as best I can] under the cut, because I can see this getting long and rambly.

How do I write compelling, logical emotions?

Uhm! This is a bit hard for me to articulate, because writing emotions is very intuitive to me. I'm a very emotionally aware person -- generally speaking I can recognize how I'm feeling and why very quickly within myself. That, I think, helps being able to write them. But some tips that are hopefully helpful:

Study yourself Emotional intelligence aside, the best way to write feelings is to figure out what they feel like. It doesn't have to be in-depth. You don't have to psychoanalyze yourself. It is enough to be able to go "I'm nervous. My stomach feels tied in knots, my throat is dry." or "I'm happy. I feel like I could dance, there's energy I need to get rid of. I feel full to bursting." Any time you've read something and gone "Oh god, that's exactly what that feels like!" It's because someone sat down and studied it for a few minutes. Sit with the uncomfortable feelings, or bask in the good ones. Root yourself in the moment and really stew. It doesn't have to be for big life events. If a movie makes you feel excited, just take a second to describe how it feels. If a book makes you cry, give a thought to what the tears are like. The next time you sit down to write a feeling, you might not be able to remember exactly what it felt like, but you will probably remember the words you attached to it.

Emotions in real life aren't logical, but stories are If you've ever gotten really angry, or really sad, or just any Big emotion, you know they're often overwhelming and paralyzing in their own special little ways. It is so easy to get swept up in the feeling of a thing that your brain turns off, and your body does crazy irrational things, and then its hours later and you've calmed down and it feels like you'll never get that emotion back again, because it was just so... much. That is allowed to exist in a story, but writing incomprehensible feelings takes your reader out of it after awhile. We need something to stay rooted in, if only so we have a reason the character is feeling as they are. Story emotions have a beginning, middle and end that you can chart. We see what causes them, we feel them, they come down from the high, and then they get a resolution. All of that doesn't have to happen at the same time. The character can feel anger over something and it drives their progression for the rest of the book. But, if at the end of the story, we don't see a resolution, it gets harder to believe -- even if in real life, emotions aren't always nearly so neatly tied. [Depending on the type of story you're writing, sometimes you might choose to intentionally leave emotions unresolved by the end, but generally they're still addressed in a "X was still angry, and would always be, but life moves on" sort of way. As long as it was an intentional choice that thought was put into, and that's evident in the character, people will believe it on a writing/empathy level.]

Emotions keep your character relatable, so keep them reasonable Emotions are how your readers connect with your character. Its the little moments where you get into their head and empathize where your attachments grow. Being able to see not only that a character is feeling something, but also see why they feel that way, does a lot of heavy lifting for making you like a character. Even if their feelings are inherently irrational [ie. thinking your friend hates you because they don't want to hang out one day], if you know why the character would feel that way [main character has social anxiety, which has been a problem through the whole book] you can sympathize with them, and care about their struggles.

Think about body language There is so much more to emotion than just "his stomach tied itself in knots" and "his anger was a lightning strike." Emotions are movements and mannerisms. Even something as simple as pacing can convey a thousand different things: quick steps, talking with your hands, in fast circles, leaning forward, beaming [Excited, sharing ideas]. Slow, ponderous steps back and forth in a line down the hall, hands clasped behind your back, brow drawn, gaze low [Contemplative, troubled, turning an idea over and over]. Stomping, storming, glowering, fists clenched, stopping sometimes in front of the door you're pacing in front of, scowling and turning back to your solitude [angry, bracing yourself for an unpleasant confrontation, could be calming down or could be building yourself up to something]. Body language can sometimes convey more of an emotion to the reader than writing how the feeling feels can, especially in a limited POV where you're only inside one character's head.

Physical pacing to show emotion, through word choice Make. Your readers feel things. With punctuation. This is where reading poetry will really help your writing, tbh. Poetry is where punctuation gets really contemplative, really intentional, and you can use that to your advantage in prose too. My thoughts are running. You can tell they're running because I'm in a rush and the words are longer and this sentence is running just like I am. It's one step over and over and over, and ignoring periods for commas because commas feel a little more like a step and less like a hard rest -- and sometimes you do breaks because it feels like a tumble what does this make you feel? It's breathless your readers are waiting for you to stop so they can stop reading and it feels distressing like maybe it's panic or thinking too quick and -- There's something. Creeping. Up on you. A hesitant feeling, like a predator in the grass. There is something disjointed here. In the sentences. The hard stops make you pause. The longer sentences lull you into something. It feels off-balance. Unsafe. Are you scared? Hesitating? What is it, exactly, creeping? You can also get really crazy with it. A character isn't thinking clearly so y o u s ss t art b r e a k i n g up t he wo r d s. You have to be careful. It has to be legible still. But it can be bold, and it can mean something and it can be eye catching and it can be a thought without acknowledgement. Play in the space! Words are toys.

Emotions are your stakes, just as much as bodily harm is If your readers care about how your characters feel, you have a compelling tool to drive their care for the rest of the plot. It's not just bad enough that they could be physically hurt by a situation, putting them in emotional distress makes your readers distressed. This does, however, need balance. In the same way you wouldn't keep your foot on the gas in a car at all times from point A to point Z, lingering too long on one emotion when your readers are invested emotionally drains your readers. There needs to be periods of rest and happiness, to balance the periods of emotional turmoil, guilt, and apathy. If you've ever read a book and thought "Man this character is a crybaby, they never stop whining" or "this book is making me depressed. Everything keeps going wrong all the time!" the balance is skewed too far towards the sad/depressive emotions, and you are emotionally distancing yourself as a result. Something similar happens the other way, if you ever read something and feel like the characters are never in danger, or the plot isn't taking itself seriously. Everyone's tolerance for this is different, but generally speaking, adding small moments of comedy and levity to temper hardship can go a long way to keeping your characters emotionally relatable -- so many people cope with humor anyway.

Read and analyze what you like in other works For the same reason people trace a drawing when they're trying to figure out how the original artist drew it, for the same reason you first knit a pattern instead of knitting a sweater from scratch, pick up a book you love, that gets you emotionally invested in the characters, and really pick apart why you like it. Write down words or descriptions you thought hammered an idea home. Reread a scene once or twice and feel your heart squirm over it and ask yourself why? Just, sink your teeth in and analyze. It helps a lot.

And on the subject of analysis...

Have I studied any writing theory, or have I got any advice on dissecting pieces of writing for improvement?

Also kind of hard to answer! Specifically because I haven't studied much writing theory, outside of reading comprehension classes in high school that I'm 10 years removed from now. If I had to give advice, I think it would have to be from my experience which is: Read a lot and take notes.

You're correct, "practice writing" can only get you so far, in the sense that anything in a vacuum is hard to learn from. If I've only ever eaten a PB&J, it's gonna be real hard to learn how to make spaghetti. Chances are I don't even know tomatoes exist. So, read a lot, and read critically, and take notes.

When I say read critically: I mean read with your eyes open. Ask yourself "why?" as often as you can. A book makes you cry, why? Is it specific to the character? Is it because you want them to be happy or because they're going through something you've been through? A book makes you frustrated, why? Was an important plot point forgotten? Are the characters hard to understand? If so, why are they hard for you to understand? Does the author not explain their motives correctly, does it feel like you skipped a chapter? Or is it because their motives are understandable but you still think what they're doing is stupid? I recommend going back and reading your favorite book with that lens. "This is the best fight scene I've ever read!" Why? Was it important to the characters and therefore important to you? Did it wrap up a plot point well? Was it just fun watching the bad guy get beat up?

I learned how to do this first with descriptions. A few years ago I was reading Kings of the Wyld, and about halfway through the book I realized I thought Nicholas Eames was the best writer I'd ever read. That's objectively untrue, I'm sure there's some better, but it's how I felt and I wanted to know why. So I read the book again. I figured out it was because his descriptions were great. It wasn't just that I could see what was going on in my head, the descriptions told me things about the world.

"The wheat was as gold as the Summer Lord's beard." It's autumn, the wheat is ready to harvest and they have a god named the Summer Lord who is cloaked in gold. That's a lot of information packed into one sentence.

"He had learned long ago that harboring regrets was akin to stashing embers in your pockets: hopeless and bound to hurt." That says so much about the character. He has regrets, ones he's worried over so much he's learned how futile it is. And the image of someone holding onto embers because maybe they deserve that pain is poignant and relatable. We have all done something we regret.

I started writing down all the descriptions of his that I liked, picking them apart to see how they work. I like descriptors that inform you about the world, that are unique to the character, and that are rooted in the physical. I think that's successful writing, so I emulate it.

If you want to get better at writing, really study the stuff you like and ask yourself why you like it. If you can't do it in your head, if you can't just read a book and figure out what went well, write it down! It doesn't have to be a 10 page paper. Just writing "I loved X character and I think xyz reason is why" is enough to get you started. The more you practice figuring out what you like, the better you'll get at identifying and describing it. The more you know about those things, the better you can transfer it into your own work. Study can be really fun when you really dig your elbows into it.

I also think it's equally useful to do this to media you don't like. Pick a book you hate and do the same thing. Why don't you like it? Is it because you don't like the themes, or because the characters were too frustrating to relate to? Was it because the plot seemed forced? Were there plot points and ideas that seemed awesome that the author just ignored? Figure out what you don't like, what you think doesn't work, so you can figure out how to avoid it.

The thing about studying anything is: everything has rules. Learn the rules. Learn why the work [or why they don't]. That's studying.

Learning when its appropriate to follow or break them, that's writing.

This turned into a very, very long rant! Hopefully it helps :'D if not, my apologies.

[ryuichirou]

IMPORTANT QUESTION SINCE NOW I AM AWARE YOU ARE INTO A/B/O DO YOU HAVE ANY SEBEMALLE HCS FOR IT I REALLY LIKE YOUR MIND

Anon! Thank you so much for enjoying our stuff I AM VERY HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!

We have a couple of asks related to ABO, and I kind of took my sweet time with them lol So it took ages to write this, but I guess this is pretty much a norm for me these days. Anyways, I hope you are still here and enjoy reading it, thank you for your patience!

Sebek/Malleus is such a good ship…

(how come I always say that we aren’t that into ABO but end up having tons of opinions and thoughts about it 🙄)

Sebek had no idea that Malleus is an omega for the longest time; it’s not like it’s a huge secret, but it just never occurred to Sebek to even think about Malleus as someone who could mate and procreate. Sebek found out about it on one fateful day when he was suddenly hit with the strongest and the sweetest wall of scent that was so suffocating and stimulating that Sebek almost passed out in his dorm hallway. Malleus didn’t go hiding or cover his scent that month for some reason…

Malleus has always known that Sebek is an alpha, even when Sebek was a kid; it was just way too obvious. But he never thought that Sebek would grow up to be his alpha: he kind of always thought of him as a restless pup that nibs on Silver without even realising the tension they are going to have in a couple of years. Malleus always thought that Silver is lucky to have Sebek by his side for his whole life.

Like I mentioned in the first hc, Malleus usually either hides somewhere, tries to cover his scent just enough not to get bothered by others or just asks Lilia for help, but that one time he didn’t do any of it, and that was when Sebek burst into his room confused, concerned, determined and very aroused. Malleus didn’t expect to see him, but that was the first time he saw Sebek as an alpha willing and capable of handling him.

And Sebek really is good at handling him. He hesitates at first, but the more they do it, the more confident and aggressive he gets; either his alpha instincts take over, or he just sees that Malleus loves it when he isn’t holding back. But every time they finish, and Malleus squeezes Sebek as he gets stuck inside of him, it’s like the realisation of what kind of relationship he and his liege now have hits Sebek, and he gets flustered and apologetic. Malleus usually hits him with “so you regret doing this to me?” just to see Sebek get even more flustered and apologetic, but for the opposite reason.

Sebek obviously isn’t allowed to claim Malleus, and Malleus usually covers his nape with hard dragon scales just so even if Sebek bites him, he can’t mark him as his own. But one time he felt like testing (or teasing) Sebek and didn’t cover it, and poor Sebek was losing his mind the entire time. He really wanted to sink his teeth into that milky skin, he lapped it with his tongue and whimpered, but had enough self-control not to bite it… he bit Malleus’ shoulder and seriously scratched his hips instead, and Malleus enjoyed that a lot.

The only other lover Malleus had previously (we all know who it is) was bigger than Sebek, so Malleus is very used to the alpha’s cock practically hitting his uterus. He body is demanding and he is a huge-ass dragon, so this is the sensation he pretty much expects. But Sebek can’t really go that deep, which isn’t a super bad thing: Malleus learned to enjoy this tickling frustration of getting pleasured but not completely satisfied, in a weird way it arouses him, and of course his walls are always completely ruined by Sebek anyway. But when one day Sebek suddenly positioned Malleus’ legs in a different way, went harder and much deeper than before, hitting and almost entering Malleus’ uterus, Malleus saw stars. In a very good way.

In theory, Sebek just helps out Malleus (while obviously being madly in love with him), but it’s not like Malleus isn’t helping Sebek out too. They had sex in a library once because Sebek got horny seemingly for no reason, with his mind being a bit clouded. Malleus got surprised when he felt Sebek rubbing against his hip, but thought it was very cute... he could’ve teleport both himself and Sebek to his room, but doing it in a library felt more fun.

After that he gave Sebek his handkerchief, not saying but implying that Sebek should use this to masturbate the next time he gets uncontrollably horny around Malleus. He doesn’t totally mean it, but Sebek abuses that poor handkerchief pretty much daily. Malleus’ scent is so strong that it gives Sebek a headache sometimes, but he just can’t stop smelling it.

Sebek also learned how to massage Malleus when he doesn’t feel good during estrus but also doesn’t want to have sex for some reason. Sebek isn’t super good at it, and Malleus doesn’t always ask him to do it, but he learns very fast. He learned that Malleus reacts the best when his tail is getting massaged…

One day the realisation hit Sebek: he’s been breeding Malleus for quite some time now, up to 5 times per day every estrus, but it never leads to conception. Does Malleus just not get gravid? Is he doing something, is there magic involved? He has a lot of questions, but he wouldn’t dare to ask Malleus about any of them. He is afraid that Malleus would stop asking for his help if he does.

[vibratingskull]

Dance Lesson

Part1, 2

Thrawxf!reader

Between dancing, stealing uniforms and your heart, your head gets fuzzy.

“I was caught up tutoring Shah-tezh on basic theory. I didn't have time to find a date for the Gala!."

"Fair enough. Hopefully it was worth it." Karyn replies.

You shrug your shoulders, you don't care at the moment, you are too busy laying on the grass enjoying the sun. With your limbs spread like a starfish you let the pleasant warmth spread on your skin while a soft wind keeps blowing a lock of hair through your face. You don't mind, at this instant you were really at peace.

"Do you have anyone in mind? Cosblo maybe?" She grins at you.

You burst out laughing together, hugging your ribs. You try your best to speak coherently.

"I can see his face! He would be so disgusted!"

Karyn joins you laying on the grass, her body shaked by her laughter. You both stay like that, under the sun's rays, calming down slowly and enjoying the simple company.

"So, do you have someone in mind or not?" She asks quietly after a moment of silence.

"No, I didn’t actually think that much about it. I’ll just pop up at the Gala alone and run off with their best bottles, what do you think?"

"Sounds good, but if Deenlark caught you, you would be in big trouble!"

"Blast Deenlark! I will have already graduated by then anyway, he won't be able to do much."

You let a moment pass, appreciating the song of a bird near you. It is a gentle melody but one of its last. Birds don't live long on Coruscant. They are constantly imported to the city planet to please the wealthy, but can’t survive in the urban environment.

"And you?" You ask.

"Hey, I still have two years before this Ball, don't pressure me with that now!" She responds playfully.

"Come on. Don't you have any targets? Nobody you wish you could ask in secret?"

She looks at you from the corner of her eyes before capitulating.

"Alright, alright. I am thinking about asking Tiabri's out."

You search in your memory Tiabri's face, you are not the best when it comes to remembering people.

"Tiabri, Tiabri, Tiabri… Long curly black hair and green eyes? The one with a silvery tattoo?"

"Yes, that's her." She answers lazily, getting more and more sleepy under the sun. It doesn't stop you from harassing her with questions.

"When will you ask? How?"

"First off, I can hear your smile with my eyes closed, stop it. And second, I don't know. I’ll see when the moment comes."

"Okay, but don't take too long. You can’t be the only one with your eyes on her"

"Says the one without a date?"

You nudge her.

"Oh shut up, you."

"Hey, J.C! Karyn!"

Shielding your eyes with your hand, you turn toward the voice and see Eli meeting you with a smile, making the grass crack under his feet.

"What are you both doing here?"

"Enjoying the sun, come sit."

Eli lets himself down to the ground beside you and sighs with contentment.

"Why have you never told me about this spot? It must be the greatest thing in this Academy."

"Because we didn’t want you here, but now that you've found it we’re screwed." You playfully whisper.

"(Y/n), language." Karyn berates you.

"Now we are exposed?"

"Better. Where is the other guy? Thram?”

“Thra-wn.” Eli corrects. ”He’s talking with Deenlark”

“He’s talking or he’s talking?”

“He’s arguing with Deenlark.”

“Oh for Maker’s sake…”

“Where did you come from?" Ask Karyn.

"I just came back from the race track, the team accepted me as a substitute after my essays."

"See? I told you they would say yes,Jakeeb is a fair guy, he wouldn’t say no to someone who wanted to join the team.”

“In fact I will mostly help as a technician but he said I could participate in the Senior Race at the end of the year.”

It’s the final race of the season and the one concluding the curriculum of the seniors students just before the final exam of simulation.

“And the ball to finish the year.” you added.

“The what?”

“The ball!” you respond in unison.

He opens his eyes and turns towards you with an incredulous expression.

“Beg you pardon?”

__________________________________

“One, two, three... One, two, three... One, tw- Wrong foot!” You drop Thrawn’s hand and cut the music “Let’s take a break.”

You go over your towel and rub the sweat off your face while the chiss with a frustrated expression go to his bottle, next to him Eli lays against the wall with a defeated look on his face. Clearly neither him nor Thrawn are pleased to be here.

“Eli, you’re next.”

“Okay, but can you tell us again why we have to sweat?”

“The Gala is in less than three months.”

“Isn’t it just a stupid dance?”

“I wish it was. It would be easier, but I’m not working your butt off for just some dance.” You take your bottle and go sit with them. “It’s the Academy Ball, it’s trickier than that.”

“We would show more enthusiasm if we knew what it entails,” argues Thrawn.

You take a sip looking at them, wondering how to put it simply. You’re not informed about everything either.

“To be brief, did you notice how many of the students are from the elite? It’s the new way the Gotha have to introduce its childs to the high Society.”

“Didn’t the Empire wipe them off to instate a new social order?” Thawn wonders, surprised.

“Well it did, but some old, old families of the Republic worked with the Chancelier Palpatine to keep their privileges when he would be emperor. Now the upstarts and the new bourgeoisie had joined them and adopted the old ways of the former Nobility. So they use the ball as a means to introduce their prized children as adults to the Society.”

“And put them in contact with the rest of the political and military scene, I see,” completes Thrawn.

“Of course, as aliens and outer-rim dwellers we don’t have to live up to those high expectations but we still need to honor and not embarrass the military corps in front of the wealthy. So you really need to catch up with those dance moves!”

“Why isn't there any rehearsal with the class?” Eli grumbles.

“We had them at the start of the year, with the taking of measurements of uniforms”

“There is specific uniforms?”

“Of course, they don’t want to present their future new officers with some cheap tuxedos. They’re unique costumes. All the students that could afford it got one. I would have gotten one for myself if Karyn hadn’t already promised me to lend me a dress from her family.”

“Your friendship is strong,” notes Thrawn.

“I stood up for her in front of a stubborn professor when she arrived two years ago.”

“I see, so she bears a sentiment of gratitude towards you since then.”

“Don’t know, she had plenty of occasions to repay me. We just connect well.”

“And what about the students that cannot afford a tailored costume?”

You put your hands behind you and roll your head to ease the muscles of your back.

“Not everyone takes them back so we take old ones that we touch-up, you should ask for one at the stewardship.”

“No.” Thrawn responds, holding his chin. “This will not be an option.”

“Why not?” Eli queries doubtfully.

“I am afraid this opportunity closed itself with my last argument with Deenlark not long ago. He swore he would try his best to get in my way to the navy command chain.”

Eli looks at him mortified, Thrawn has no equal when it comes to running into problems but it seems he surpassed himself this time.

“What did you do?” You ask.

“I merely pointed out alternative and more effective methods of education.”

“Did you?”

Sometimes you wonder if Deenlark wouldn't outright refuse Thrawn to graduate to make him pay for his insolence. He often flirts with the line.

“I bet none of you have the money for a private tailor, so that leaves you with…”

“Robbing one.” Thrawn completes.

You choke on your water.

“Hey, calm down! Isn’t there a solution less… radical?” Eli intervenes.

“You could borrow them,” you propose.

“Unfortunately, we are not popular enough students for that.”

“We could rent them?” Eli adds.

“As J.C said, they are unique costumes. No store would have them.”

“Maybe Karyn could lend us a costume?” Eli insists.

“We would run into the same problem, moreover she agreed to lend a dress to (y/n) who is a good friend of hers, none of us can say the same.”

Eli frowns, annoyed.

“You could just… not go?” you suggest.

“That is out of question for myself. This is evidently an important ritual for the navy. I cannot ignoreit. Moreover, it will get me in contact with the chain of commands as a whole, I can not let such an opportunity pass.”

His arguments are sound, but still… You both turn your head towards Eli.

“I want to go too.” He responds, pressed.

“Then it’s settled, we should soon think about a plan.”

“Hey! Don’t bring me into this!”

“As you wish” Thrawn speaks camly. “But with or without you we will find a way.”

You gave a long groan. You were going to regret this.

_______________________________________________________

“What do you mean Eli won’t come?” You ask.

It is still early in the evening and you just ended your daily session of Shah-tezh and revisions with Thrawn.

“He has practice with the team for the Senior race.” Thrawn answers unwavering, replacing the pawns in the box.

“Hmpf.”

You sulk during your walk to your room. You’re not worried for Eli, his dancing skills are good. He can afford to skip a few sessions, but it is not the same for Thrawn and you're worried about the idea of being alone with him. Who knows what lies behind those incandescent eyes.

You inhale and get ready for what comes next.

“Wrong foot again.” You lightly shake your head. “I don’t understand, you master it when you are without a partner but you lose it when we dance together…”

Thrawn steps back at a respectful distance.

“Maybe you should let me lead for once.”

“ I will when you know how to put one foot after the other, until then you lead nothing! Let’s try it again without music.”

You get back in position, providing enough distance so he can clearly see your feet.

“Let’s try it slow, everything starts with your left foot…”

You start once again, swiping across the floor at the measure of you counting.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two…”

It’s already been a month since you started teaching them. It has been an adventure if only for finding an empty room everyday, muscle soreness and all the time they stepped on your foot. With so little time you’re only teaching them the three most popular dances for those parties.. Eli was doing well enough, you had started helping him develop freestyle. Thrawn, however, was another entity. He’s doing remarkably in the solo exercises, but completely spoils it with a partner; too fast, too slow, off beat, zero synchronization. If only he could just follow the music you could follow him in return.

“One, two,thre- Ouch…”

You hold his shoulder while you prance to keep your balance and he holds your arm for support.

“I am truly sorry,” he says.

“I don’t doubt it, I just wished it didn’t happen as much,” you laugh it out. “I feel like you're not with me on this, like you're absolutely trying to take the lead.”

“I am trying my best but it has proven harder than expected.”

You put your foot back on the ground and think, what could prevent him from improving?

You won't say you fully understand him. His mind works in a different capacity than most anyone you'd ever met. He couldn't even look at a painting without finding a way to bring the art of war into it. Perhaps that was the solution.

“I think… You see your partner as an adversary rather than an ally.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“This is not combat, miss (y/l/n).”

“That’s exactly my point, you expect resistance where there is not. You should relax, go with the flow! Stop being so stern and serious all the time… I know!”

You put the music back on dropping the ballroom style for a more upbeat and joyous style and slide the volume up. You start prancing, swinging on site and encouraging him to do the same.

“Come on! Dance! Have some fun!” You dance and skip “It will unknot your muscles, you’re always so stiff!”

His demeanor doesn’t change but a flash passes through his eyes like you screamed profanity at him, something akin to a horrified expression twists his face for less than a second before getting back to it’s usual imperturbable look as you rotate around him in rhythm.

You take his hands and start swinging them.

“Come on, come on!”

Understanding he wouldn’t escape this, he starts shifting his weight on his feets reluctantly. You start freestyling, shaking your head with all your might to shake off all your stress and nerves from the last month, the exams, the ball, the simulation test, everything that came and is to come, throwing everything away.

At the corner of your eyes you see him expanding and caressing his limbs, more into a choreographed stretch than a real dance, but it will do.

You continue like this for five more minutes before switching back to the ballroom music.

“Let’s try this again! And dance with me this time, not against. ”

You hold your hands and you already notice a difference in the way he carries himself. You engage the first steps and he follows with ease like something just switched in his unconscious mind.

"Very good!"

You keep up the same dance until the end. There were still some errors and resistance on his part but the progress was amazing. These lessons will be less tedious from now on.

“Much better! Let’s take a break.” You turn down the sound and sit to do some stretches.

“Did you make up your mind?” Thawn asks.

“About what?”

“About helping us with the costume. The date is rapidly approaching.”

You hum out a sigh. “I’m not sure. This is not really my problem, no offense.”

He looks at you in silence with a cryptic expression

“I see, a pity.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No nothing, what do you mean by “a pity”? You never make commentaries without some idea in mind, what are you thinking about?”

“I was just thinking how displeased you would be if your secret were spreaded.” _______________________________________________________________

I’m an idiot, you thought, leaning behind a wall to ensure nobody's there and Thrawn behind you to have your back.

You regret accepting to help and you regret this date was chosen. Although it is the best date possible, the Senior Race is monopolizing all the Academy and both teachers and students are at the circuit to support the team, it also means Eli won’t be there to help.

You feel uneasy, you didn’t talk much to Thrawn since you tried to kiss him the other day and you’re not sure how to act. He doesn’t seem to know about it and is acting like always, but your lips and cheeks burn at that single thought.

You press yourself against the wall when a loud group of students pass nearby. The storehouse is down the corridor at your left, and the connection point in front of you, you will need to traverse the junction when the cameras won’t look to the next blindspot.

“You know how to enter, miss (y/n)?” He demands with a low voice.

"That's why you asked for my help., And cut it out with the miss, you're stressing me out."

You turn your head towards the camera.

“Go!” You check left and right and cross the intersection “Stop!”

Hiding from the cam behind Thrawn you open your bag and take out a little console and start searching for the round plug.

“What is this?” He checks on you over his shoulder.

“This, my dear, is a technological marvel that you won’t find anywhere else.” You found it and plugged it right away. “It will take some seconds to connect.”

The screen lights up and you start playing with the buttons, searching for the correct command.

“C’mon, c’mon… Ha!” You click and select the correct files. “I’m hijacking the stream of the camera. There! We won’t appear on the tape anymore.”

He turns himself and kneels next to you to observe.

“It shouldn’t take too long from now on.” Series of numbers appears on the screen and your little machine starts searching.

“So what is it exactly?”

“At first it was sold to technicians to manage stocks, but some smart ones quickly found out how to overwrite the primary code and transform this little toy into a global master key. It works on everything because the code is the most simple one you can find, without any frills. After that the Republic destroyed them for public safety reasons.”

“Not all of them, I see.”

“Most of them.” You laugh. “My grandparents once robbed a bank with one of those!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Or so I’ve been told.” You clear your throat. “There won’t be any cams inside but the droids can record through their eyes.”

“You sure seem to know a lot about the infrastructure, J.C.”

“No, not really.”

He looks at you with glaring eyes.

“Okay, I’ve done it once. But I only took chocolate bars for Karyn’s birthday.”

“It explains a lot.”

You can’t say if his tone is neutral or judgmental.

“It’s open.” You close your bag and stand up on your feet.

You check left and right once again and go down the corridor to see the storehouse door wide open, you gallop to it and close it behind Thrawn. Glaring across the room you both hide behind a metal box left here. Rising over it you observe the armada of droids handling the stocks, coming and going in a waltz rhythm by the hum of engines.

“And now what?”

“Now we must find the aisle and the correct box.” He answers mimicking a shush.

“I can find the aisle.”

He frowns at you incredulous.

“I told you this toy was a gem!” You look up at the screen. “Row seven.”

You put your console back inside your bag and spy the droids.

“How are we gonna cross the room?” you mumble.

“Haven’t you done this before?”

“There weren't as many droids! I think they took on the fact that someone came behind their back…”

He shakes his head and observes the whole room. His gaze travels from the door to the droids, to the shelves.

“We are going to climb the shelves.”

Without giving you any time to protest, he walks to the first shelf, careful to stay out of sight of the droids and climb the ladder rapidly to the top. You grumble and follow in his trail, avoiding the mechas by passing behind diverse structures and climbing as fast as you could. at the top you measure the area between the two shelves.

“You know we can't jump such a distance, right?”

“We are not going to need to jump, we will use the wall.”

You turn your head to observe the reliefs of the motifs on the walls, you could indeed grasp your hands around and put your feet on the rails but… The surface is incredibly slim. You look down to see the ground and you get dizzy.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“You can stay here if you are afraid.” Without hesitation he places his hands on the wall and starts crossing the gape.

You gulp, you’re not sure those costumes are worth the broken bones you risk with that method, but you’re not a coward and you won’t let that chiss believe it.

You wipe off your hands on your pants and follow him. The surface appears even slimmer now that your weight is on it and you feel like this is gonna be really difficult.

Don’t look down, don't look down, you repeat like a mantra while progressing along the rails. If only the shelves weren’t so spaced out! You grip the embossing with all your might as you start feeling sweat run down your back and your temperature rising. Are you really risking only a broken bone if you fell? Your arms and legs start trembling at the middle of the crossing, in front of you Thrawn already traverses and waiting for you at the next shelf. It looked almost easy when he did it, why is it so difficult?

You stop as even your fingers are shaking with cold sweat running down between them.

“Why did I accept to help you, again?” You whisper.

“Because I know about your family.” He responds deadpan.

Son of a bantha! You feel ire rising in your veins and a new energy spreads through your muscles, you quickly close the gap and seize the hand he extended for you while digging your nails through his sleeve. He doesn’t react and turns himself to the next gap. You forgot there was still five of them. Damn it! You have to take your breath, this is exhausting…

As you stop your eyes travel through the room and you notice a pallet truck moving around. You study its path and calculate roughly when it will come next to your shelf. You step back and sprint to the ledge, as it passes you jump and land almost too far. You crouch and wave to Thrawn as it goes by. It is way quicker than crossing the gap! You laugh a little, realizing the situation is both thrilling and terrifying. You hold yourself to avoid trembling on this precarious balance and you can jump back to the seven shelf. As you turn back you see Thrawn imitates you with another forklift and joins you back.

“Good thinking.”

Without missing a moment he goes down the ladder and starts searching for the right box. You follow him and you quickly find the box you need.

“How are we gonna open it?” You ask “It’s sealed.”

“With this.” He takes out his Lieutenant plaque and inserts it into a port.

“Won’t they find out who opened it?”

“It is a blank plaque, it should not be a problem.”

You hear a click and the lid trembles a little before stopping, you both take one side and slide it.

“I didn’t know a plaque could serve like that!” You say.

“I found it out recently as well.”

Now opened, you could see a myriad of uniforms tightly folded. Without any tag you will need to eyeball each of them to find the good ones.

“They should be ranged by size.” Thawn says.

You both start searching and it takes you around twenty five minutes to find both uniforms and ten more to fold and place back the one you don’t need. You calculate mentally how long the false video recording is and realize you have little time to go back. Once done you put them in your bag and close the box.

Thrawn looks at his chrono.

“We should hurry, the race will soon end.”

You go back back on top of the shelf and jump again on a forklift. Thrawn is right behind you. His landing sends a vibration through the metal, nearly forcing you off the platform. Before you topple off the edge, Thrawn seizes your arms, pulling you tight against him. You can feel the warmth of his hand on your skin and it reminds you again of this fateful kiss. You clear your throat, uneasy. The first shelf arrives quickly and you jump back to safety and go down rapidly. The way back is spent mostly avoiding the cameras and lonely persons wandering the halls.

As you reach Thrawn and Eli’s room you collapse on Thrawn’s bed without asking permission with a long and relieved sigh.

“Finally! Safety!”

Thrawn leans over to seize your bag and takes out the uniforms to try his one again. He plants himself in front of the mirror to appreciate it and finds where to do touch-ups. He really wore it elegantly, you think. At this moment, Eli enters with a cry of victory, so much it startles you.

“We ended up in second place! I got to race ‘till the last lap!” He proudly announces.

You jump off the bed and hug him tightly. “Congratulations!”

As you separate, you notice out of the corner of your eyes Thrawn silently observing both of you.

“How did it go for you?”

“We’ve found them both, you will have to try yours.”

“Quickly then, I have to join the team again after!”

You then take the opportunity to pack your stuff and go to the door.

“I’m gonna sleep a little. I will come celebrate with you later Eli!”

As soon as the door closed behind you, Eli turned to Thrawn.

“Did you really have to steal them?”

“Of course not. I lied to test J.C.’s aptitudes.”

@exoplorationn, @bluechiss

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Day 18 - Forest

From this prompt list by @watercolorfreckles

----

“Okay kid, Rule One. Be careful what you say here. The forest can hear you.”

The protagonist followed the stranger closely along the thin snaking trail. They normally would have suspected paranoia, or delusions. But having spent most of the day lost in these woods, they weren’t so sure anymore.

It was something in the way the underbrush looked different if you glanced back. The way the paths seemed to always pull towards the center. The fact that, if the protagonist stopped and truly listened, they’d almost swear they could hear breathing.

“What am I supposed to not say?”

The stranger – Tam, he’d called himself – broke through a thicket with a small knife. “Just don’t talk about personal things. Vulnerabilities, your loved ones, stuff like that. The forest will try to use that information to cut a deal.” He looked back at the protagonist. “That’s Rule Two, by the way. Don’t make any deals.”

The protagonist went cold. “Why would I do something like that?”

Tam shrugged, moving forward again. “Good harvests, magic cures, a terrible fate for your enemies. People have found plenty of reasons, over the years.”

“You know someone, don’t you?” The protagonist dropped down from a log. “Someone who made a deal.”

Tam didn’t meet the protagonist’s eyes, but he nodded.

“What does the forest ask for in return?”

“Oh lots of things. Sometimes it just needs a bit of your blood, or a couple years off your life.” He grinned when the protagonist paled. “Usually, though, it’ll ask you to stay.”

“What, like, forever?”

“In theory.”

The protagonist cast a wary gaze at the branches overhead. “What does it even get out of something like that?”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s lonely.”

The protagonist ducked around a split trunk. “No offense to your friend, but it seems like a pretty stupid deal to make.”

Tam was silent for a beat. “I can’t say I disagree.”

The path started to incline upwards, as they reached the base of a hill.

“Are there any other rules?”

“Just one.” Tam held out his hand to help the protagonist up a steep rock. “Don’t leave my line of sight.”

----

They continued on like that, well into the evening. The forest was so much larger than the protagonist had ever imagined, and their anxiety rose as the shadows stretched.

Tam was friendly enough, and he answered all the protagonist’s questions. But he also kept his eyes on the trees, as though he expected something to pounce. The protagonist decided eventually that it was best not to distract him.

When they reached the edge of the woods, it took the protagonist a few seconds to believe their eyes.

“Oh my god.” They stared at the field ahead of them, at the little hints of rooftops in the distance. “Oh my god, that’s my town!”

Tam smiled. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

With a nod, the protagonist ran. Footsteps light, breath bubbling, they burst past the treeline. The cool air filled their lungs, the berry-red sunset blinded their eyes. They laughed. They hadn’t died in the forest. They and Tam were going to be – 

Where was Tam?

The protagonist spun around, peered back into the brush. “Tam?”

There was no answer.

“Tam?!”

There was only the graveyard silence of the trees.

----

Tam watched, as the kid called again and again. He could see it on their face, when they thought about going back in to search.

He watched as, wide-eyed and near tears, they made the only reasonable decision available – to leave him behind.

“You need to stop doing this,” the forest said.

It didn’t have a voice, exactly. Its words came via the tapping of branches, the wind rustling through leaves. Yet, Tam could understand it perfectly.

“The kid posed an interesting question,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Why do you want us to stay so badly?”

He watched the kid’s silhouette disappear over the horizon. Towards the town, which seemed to grow a little bigger every year.

He wondered, sometimes, if his family still lived there. 

“Why, it’s because I love you.” Ivy peeled off the trees, and reached to caress him. “But don’t worry. No matter how many I collect, you will always be my favorite.”

“Oh believe me,” he said, as the twigs and leaves twined around him. “I know.”

[mr-entj]

Hello Mr. ENTJ,

I have read a few of your posts. And I must say, they are truly enlightening. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and passing on to others.

Would you have any advice on how ENFPs could develop/progress their tertiary Te? Any practical advice (all I see on the internet is theory. No irl use).

I have been struggling with this particular function for three years now. Some days I like how my progress is going. Some days I overuse it to the point of going into unhealthy loops, and on others I am clueless as to how I KNOW I am misusing Te, just don’t know what is specifically going wrong.

Alongside this question, how have your experience been with ENFPs and the function Te (dynamics, healthy and unhealthy individuals)? How did you perceive them? Were their actions/decisions befitting of tertiary Te?

As the daughter of an ENTJ 8w7, one of my goals is to become as logical and effective as half of what my dad is and has accomplished.

Another last question: do you know of any tips of how ENFPs and ENTJs can get along better? Me (ENFP 2w3) being too ‘soft/sensitive’ for the taste of my dad doesn’t help much. We can barely ever figure out what is going on inside each other’s heads. It’s as if it’s two apart worlds, and I’d risk to say I feel I have more in-common with my INTJ brother than with my ENTJ dad (come on, Te-Ni and Ni-Te shouldn’t be too different. Just thinking of my INFP pals, they’re lovely beings I feel I share a lot in-common with them. Flawed logic? Perhaps.)

If you can answer these, it’d be helpful. Coming from a successful, seemingly healthy ENTJ.

Thanks for supporting the blog.

Would you have any advice on how ENFPs could develop/progress their tertiary Te? Any practical advice (all I see on the internet is theory. No irl use).

To develop/progress Te, see this post.

Alongside this question, how have your experience been with ENFPs and the function Te (dynamics, healthy and unhealthy individuals)? How did you perceive them? Were their actions/decisions befitting of tertiary Te?

In the short bursts, strong and focused for things they're personally interested in. Very energetic, infectious, and productive.

In the long term, inconsistent and flaky with significant drop off after the fun phases are over (brainstorming, ideation) and it's time to actually do the difficult and not fun work (execution). The exact point this happens is a few days/hours after the execution phase starts and the excitement fades. This is when the wheels come off the wagon and things go to hell.

Another last question: do you know of any tips of how ENFPs and ENTJs can get along better?

For starters, I wouldn't make it a goal to change who you naturally are and how you operate simply because someone disagrees with it. Parent or not. Unless you're actively harming yourself, it's not a personality disorder or a problem to solve, it's just a personality quirk and a quality to accept.

Off the top of my head:

Set and enforce boundaries. ENTJs will step over lines they don't know exist because they assume that other types communicate as bluntly as they do. Spoiler alert: they don't. Make sure your dad knows they exist or else he'll trample over them unintentionally.

Identify what they're excellent at and learn from them. Pretty much every TJ I know is an expert in a particular field and can't shut up about it when asked. What's your dad's area of expertise? Learn more about it, ask him about it, and try it. This is a great starting place to bond.

Share only the problems you want solutions to. And if you don't want solutions, tell them up front. Most TJs (ENTJ, INTJ, ESTJ, ISTJ) will interpret sharing issues as asking for our input because we're natural problem solvers. Be clear that you're only looking to vent.

Acknowledge the facts, even if you don't agree with them. ENFPs are dreamers who go for moonshots (ambitious but unlikely goals). There's nothing wrong with dreaming big, but being too impractical and neglectful of reality can make you look delusional. This will annoy all TJs, not just the xNTJs. You can acknowledge the facts without killing your dreams. Work with your dad to brainstorm solutions to those problems, not to deny they exist. It's a good intellectual exercise and solid bonding opportunity.

Be considerate of their time. If you're not committed to acting on a plan, don't bother them for advice, and more advice, and more advice. Talking and talking and talking without any action is exhausting at best, and infuriating at worst. This is one of my main gripes with all perceivers especially when it comes to career coaching. They'll get excited about a plan, ask for my input, I'll invest time and energy into building it, and then they'll abandon it. In the long run, it'll damage your relationship with an ENTJ because you'll appear flaky and they'll respect you less because of it. A person's word is their bond, make sure your words hold a lot of weight.

[ecrivainsolitaire]

Zoloft day 17

Today some drunk neighbours were smoking under my balcony and before I could tell them to gtfo I had a mini freakout about their potential reaction. Bad sign. Up until now I've been absolutely shameless since I started taking the pills. I even flirted with a friend's sister who was coming onto me at her graduation the other day, in front of their parents, which used to be a legendary mode challenge level for me. The incident this morning made me question if the effects are wearing out, though until I have more tangible proof I'll attribute it to missed sleep. I've also been getting a bit hungrier, which may have to do with the fact that I had a couple days where I absolutely broke my diet so my stomach may have expanded back to original size. I'll try to see if it's a reversible outcome.

My libido is slowly coming back. Very slowly. Glacially slowly. Tectonic plates level slowly. But it is coming back, which is a relief. In a couple weeks I should probably be able to finish again. Initially I thought it was happening at the times where the pill had already worn out for the day, since it's been happening in the middle of my sleep around 3am, but today I fell asleep in the afternoon and it happened again. That also could be the pills losing their effectiveness, but I choose to remain optimistic. I'm no longer worried I'm being targeted by some sort of dramatic irony based vendetta from a greek god who decided to take away from me the two things that helped with my panic attacks before the sertraline: that and weed. I may eventually go back to normal without having to quit the pill. I've never been one for patience, but time will tell.

I am so thirsty all the time. Not that kind of thirsty, actually dehydrated. I already live in an incredibly hot place so it's quite annoying having to always be seeking water especially in places it's not as available and I have to rely on sugary drinks. I may have to start carrying a water bottle around.

I'm considering piercing my ears. I mean, I was already considering it but now I think I could do it without going catatonic due to my fear of needles or how my uber Christian family may react to their amab son queering it up a notch. They'd have a heart attack if they heard I went to pride last year and plan to go back this year. But I don't care that much now.

I keep fighting with my uncle about meaningless nonsense but I no longer take his conspiracy theories as an existential threat. We actually had a somewhat civilised discussion yesterday. Even my grandma noticed the air was lighter around us.

Since my whole family is on a low fat diet due to medical reasons I've been forced to cook less fatty meals lately, which has given me some perspective on just how much oil and lard I usually consume and how bad my stomach feels after. That feeling used to be relief from the anxiety, like adding it to my stomach somehow made me feel out of danger, but now it just hurts. I really gotta cut down on the oils and stuff.

I notice whenever I see someone online or in person say something really dumb I get cynical and mean about it. I don't like the feeling. I shouldn't be so judgemental of those around me, I just don't know how to change it yet. I already knew this to some extent but I used it as a defence mechanism from things that no longer feel threatening. I need to stop that.

Going online to look at memes and social media is no longer as fun or rewarding as it used to. By contrast, I have an increased capacity to sit through a TV show or movie for extended periods, which in the last few years I could only do with my favourites, like the MCU. The other day I saw a nearly three hour long samurai movie and although it was in two sittings and it's not usually my favourite genre I didn't get bored out of it and quit. It seems like my brain now rewards longer forms of entertainment that are more engaging instead of quick dopamine bursts. I might try to read again.

I'm working on a secret project that involves learning to code, and with some help from ChatGPT I've done more progress this morning than the last couple months I've been thinking about it. Having such a powerful learning tool essentially act as my project manager and code tutor keeps me motivated to continue. I estimate it'll take about a year to complete but I'm more confident now about my ability to keep working on a project for longer. I wish Tumblr stopped having a moral panic about AI and started to see it as the tool that it is; there's a lot of misconceptions about what it can and can't do, and most of it is to blame on OpenAI's marketing team. When you're using it to supplement your original ideas instead of trying to plagiarize it can actually do miracles. But thankfully I feel less and less interested in getting into fights about it. Eventually they'll have to come around, it was the same when smartphones came out and everyone was freaking out about omnipresent internet connection.

Overall, I feel mostly at peace. Life isn't perfect by any means, but it's bearable now. once my body fully adapts to the pills, I'll hopefully be doing a lot better. Even despite the extremely frustrating side effects, this is one of the best decisions I've ever made. I only wish I'd done it sooner.

Also, because of my project, I spent all morning writing. I can write again. I should get back to my children's book I stopped writing because all the characters were depressed and miserable. Perhaps this time I'll be able to finish it.

[yo-momsin-mybed]

Request from wattpaduser on wattpad

"Maybe you could write a short fic about their confession? It doesn't matter who confesses to who:)"

Ryan straighten his tie in the mirror, smiling proudly at himself.

Today was their last court date and Ryan was the last to get his verdict. They tried to get Ryan to plead guilty but he stuck to his self defense theory.

Ryan shook the thoughts out of his head and turned towards the door. Travis stood in the doorway, it was hard to read him but from what Ryan could gather he looked guilty.

"Hey," he said breaking the silence, ryan nodded his head, looking away. "I'm talking on behalf of you today, not against you, Chris wanted the best for you" he said quietly.

They both stood there awkwardly, neither really knew each other and neither knew how to talk to people.

Laura and max walked in the room behind him, slowly nodding a greeting towards Travis, still nervous around him.

"Its time," Max smiled grabbing Ryan's shoulder.

"Yeah," Ryan said, turning around to take a last look in the mirror.

---

Ryan stepped into the box, swearing to the lord and greeting the judge. The session was going smoothly until Ryan slipped up on the story, mentioning the part where he was stabbed, despite the lack of injury.

"You were stabbed?" The judge questioned

"Well, yeah, no, it wasn't really" Ryan started to shaking slightly, tears pricking his eyes. "Chris other brother came at me with a knife, I mange to dodge it but it was still," Ryan paused a minute to take a breath.

"Its okay Ryan," the judge smiled sweetly, they were all lucky to have who they had on this case.

Ryan nodded and continued to explain his story, Travis and Laura agreed to go on after to back his story up.

Finally it was time to heard the final verdict, ryan looked up and seen dylans face, he was coated in worry. Ryan flashed him a small, reassuring smile as the judge spoke her answer.

"Not guilty," she said, hitting the desk infront if her happily.

Ryan smiled brightly, he could hear his friends cheering him on.

---

With the brightest smile on dylan skipped over to Ryan happily, "Hey big guy" he laughed, "I'm really glad your not being arrested for murder"

"So am I," Ryan laughed back

The two were at Emma's with the rest for a small get together, well it started small. Gradually they invited more and more people until it was a full blown party.

"Wanna go outside for a second, get away from the crowd?" Dylan asked, he couldn't tell if it was real confidence or the alcohol but he needed to tell Ryan how he felt before he nearly looses him again.

"Yeah," he yelled back, they left out the back door, and moved around the people until they were far enough anyway that the music was a low whisper.

Ryan pulled out a joint and lit it up, taking a puff and handing it to dylan.

Dylan took it and had a small puff, coughing aggressively after.

Ryan giggled taking the joint back, "you okay?"

"Yeah," he chocked out, "peachy"

Ryan laughed some more guiding Dylan to a rock to sit down.

"You better now?" Ryan asked a few seconds after dylans breathing became level.

"I'd but a lot better with your number," he flirted, looking up at Ryan who twas standing infront of him.

"Very clever," Ryan laughed, he grabbed dylands phone from his lap and put in his number, adding a heart to his name.

"There," he said giving dylan his phone back, "now you should feel better"

"Hmm I don't know I think another kiss would help," he joked, he closed his eyes giggling, he was trying so hard to work up the nerves to tell Ryan.

Though it didn't really matter, a burst of confidence went through Ryan hearing those words. He leaned down and started kissing Dylan, first slow then rough.

Dylans hands roamed up Ryan's back, pulling him closer. "Sit down," Dylan mumbled pulling ryan into his lap.

They continued making out, grinding softly every now and then.

"Uhm," they heard someone clearing their throat. Ryan jumped off of Dylan, falling ti the ground in the process.

"Told you so," Kaitlyn laughed, Emma who just cleared her throat started speaking again, "okay I forgive because you guys are super cute but your coming back to the party now," Emma half joked, spinning on her heels, Laura and Kaitlyn stood next to her laughing.

Dylan and ryan awkwardly stared at each other before bursting out into a fit of giggles.

"I really like you," Dylan said softly, watching the others walk up the path.

"I really like you too," Ryan mumbled back, hiding is face.

"We should go back," Dylan said helping Ryan up.

The two held hands walking up the path and meeting up again with the party.

---

I'm sorry it wasn't that short haha I wrote this in my car on a road trip so it's probably shit.

[anoms-world]

…… i hate it all being trapped spirtually its like waiting for me to die i thought you understand/care/love me

look up there is,, light in the sky*

555

when u r all exited for talk carried by observing notes and ingnore you and judge you before even starting is soo triggiring cant fight the argue and the need for new thoughts so its become inflimated so fast like fire oh and for some reason of the lack of creativety the worst secret you would say slipped away and now ironcaly finally it caused attenchin and inrests and maybe absisin to talk about with someone else ,,, any other creative way to eat my soul or destroy? cant even deal with my black eyes after my high blind optimistic hope with planned hope for abstract conflicting answers been destroyed left me confuse and bitter to recall all this fall under regret and for some reason its feel great to feel regret too soon as things belong to it rule and it place and it time to nothingness to silent gloom

ireally dont know if im ok really dont i never had the whole expierment to share stupid stories and laugh at it and grow out of it unstead ive been sended stirght to cicled death cause im trapped here by there sith and not my wish respecti wasnt enough for them and also kinda too late to act likr teen now i acted as the hell bottom of confuion bc i am i was and still beside i never found who would comfort me to say it was normal they just insisting on control me mentally the game they know in return i was like who was possessed cant find peace anywhere cant find sleep tey rather to escape reality every single time cause i dont change my mind easily like most ppl do unless have real weird quistion an attemp to change my mind by my other self my shadow and as usual stupid agressive ppl choose to attack without questions

i dont know what worse eating my share or pretenting its ok to eat my share enogh to make me scared finally to blind death and not to 9life really shocked by this low attued cant sleep i guess i was hungry for the first time XD its unlike the other unusual days, do u judge me by this pathitic weak angle for unresisted unusual natural time call? weird cant see them self by the other kind of calls,, so low adventage even to themself lmao not to metion they claimed i do unfotunes things on porpuse.. if they believe things are connected then this theory also correct they just assholes without personal principle after all glad to know that i know i am too already i didnt tried to fake that atleast

limit b12 estrogen and salt water potasium and salt need water to work

she burst out of the blue in disapointing and claim i dont know love lol she right i dont know love this it the true nature of my personal sin i was close enough these days to her as the need to feel something and she realized how weak and annoying and she want to destroy the parts she hate the most which means me all of me or simply we were decived by hope from deferent sources simetime i notice my self coping someone else nature when am afraid or trying to mimic society and all is temporeay my true nature would eat me alive in an adventage resising my pretending destroying the new nature im trying to copy she dont understand seeing me change temporary had her hope up and my hope up for seeing her happy for me as im trying to please i shouldnt try to be close yet i really cant help it i dont want to cause more damages than we already do to ourself by hope to be understood beside she said i was low going backwardas as i was closer might she right and cant figure out anyway around again bc trapped irl problems and uniq rare satiuation as if being cursed and blissed at the same time

[depressed-sugar-baby]

More incorrect quotes

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

Severus: Start talking!

James: Well, I-

Severus: Shut up!

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

James: This date is boring!

Severus: This isnt a date. I said I was going to the store.

James: Then why did you invite me?

Severus: I didnt, I specifically said "dont come with me" then you said " fuck you Severus I'll do whatever I want!

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

Severus: Bro-

James: No, no, hold up, rewind.

James: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

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

Sirius: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is?

Severus: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

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

James: Can I ask a dumb question?

Severus: Better than anyone I know.

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

Remus: Why should I make my bed, when I'm just gunna unmake it to sleep in it anyways?

Severus: Why should I feed you if your just gunna die anyways?

Remus:

Remus: I'll go make my bed-

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

Severus: Remus, get that hidious thing out of the living room, would you?

Remus: Sirius, Severus wants you to get out of the house.

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

Remus, bursting into the room: You two are having sex!

Severus, not looking up from their book: Really? James, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

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

Sirius: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

Severus: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory.

James: Fuck you.

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

Sirius: Severus, I am questioning your sanity...

James: I never questioned it, I knew their sanity was missing from the start.

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

James: Remus, I’m afraid.

Remus: Just stay close to Severus.

James: That's why I’m afraid.

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

Remus: And now for a gay update with Severus and Sirius.

Sirius: Getting gayer.

Remus: Thank you, Sirius.

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

Remus: H-how do you ask someone out?

Sirius: Well, first-

Severus: Don't ask him, he asked me out in a McDonalds parking lot.

Remus: ...And you said yes?

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

James: When you work at lush and a customer comes in and bites the soap because they think it’s cheese... this happens way more frequently than you think.

Severus: If you stopped literally presenting soap as deli food this wouldn't happen.

James: Who goes into a bath store and thinks something covered in glitter is cheese?

Remus: Who goes to the store and just takes a bite from the cheese?

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

Sirius: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Severus: Okay.

Sirius: And make out during the scary parts.

Severus: Th-

Severus: The scary parts.

Severus: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

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

Severus: Look, last night was a mistake.

Sirius: A sexy mistake.

Severus: No, just a regular mistake.

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

Severus, after getting a job as a life guard: Hmm... I wonder what those things at the bottom of the pool are..

Remus: THOSE ARE PEOPLE DROWNING!

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

Remus: *angrily presses Severus against a wall* WHERE'S THE CHOCOLATE?!

Severus: ...

Severus: Are we about to kiss-

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

Severus: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

Remus: Those are wanted posters!

***********

Severus: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

James: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Severus: ...

Severus: You mean ring bearER, right?

James: ...

Severus: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

**********

*James and Severus looking at a locked gate into a park*

James: Aw. :(

Severus: You know what they say.

James: Please don’t-

Severus: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

James: Fuck-

*********

Severus: Watcha doin?

James: Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Severus: Scandalous.

Severus: Can I help?

********

James: I got grounded for a whole week just because I came home late.

Severus: Well, you deserved it. I mean, getting everyone's hopes up like that and then showing up again.

*******

Severus: What's gone wrong, James?

James: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis.

Severus: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling?

James: Well... There’s a crisis.

******

Severus: I’ve never been in a snowball fight before. I don’t know the rules.

James: What?

Severus: Is there a point system, or is it to the death?

*****

Sirius, dramatically: They called me a fool.

Severus, sick of Sirius's shit: They weren’t wrong.

****

Severus: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Sirius: This is a lie.

Sirius: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Sirius: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

***

Severus: You shouldn't be using a straw.

Sirius: I know, I know, it's bad for the environment and stuff.

Severus: Yeah, but I mean... it's a weird way to eat spaghetti.

**

Sirius: We all have our demons.

Sirius, grabbing Severus: This one’s mine.

*

Sirius: What goes up but never comes down?

Severus: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

[storiesforallfandoms]

hand delivered ~ corpse husband

word count: 1498

request?: no

description: in which he surprises her with a visit, and she surprises him with something else

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

i was inspired by corpse hand delivering sykkuno’s hoodie so i had to write a hella fluffy imagine on it

“I swear to God Rae!” you exclaimed as Rae giggled at her actions.

The two of you were streaming GTA V together at Rae had taken an amusement to stealing cars and driving them towards you, narrowly avoiding killing you every time. For obvious reasons, this wasn’t exactly keeping you under the radar of the cops. Quite the opposite, actually. You were spending most of your time running from both Rae and the cops.

“We’re never gonna make any money at this rate,” you told her. “We’re gonna spend it all on bail fees.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Rae argued. “Just jump in, we’ll go to the next job.”

“I can’t jump in when you’re trying to run me over!”

Rae giggled again as your chat joked about what she was doing to you. You rolled your eyes at everyone, but you couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face.

Before you could jump into the car that Rae had recently stolen, you heard a knock at your door. You paused a moment, confused. You weren’t expecting anyone, and you hadn’t ordered any take out or anything. You decided to ignore it, figuring maybe it was a wrong place or something and if no one answered they’d leave. But the knock came again, this time a bit louder and faster.

“Hey, don’t get us killed, I gotta go AFK for a second,” you told Rae. You heard just a piece of her response as you set your headphone aside and made your way to your front door.

You were looking down when you opened the door, prepared to tell whoever was there that they were at the wrong house, but instead your gaze landed on a pair of familiar hands holding a black and red hoodie, folded in a way that all you could see was the familiar fanart of Corpse Husband.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes trail up to the face of your visitor, the real life version of the face on the hoodie, smiling down at you. Your eyes widened. It was the first time you had ever seen Corpse’s face, and it felt illegal to be standing here looking at him. You quickly covered your eyes, willing yourself to forget what you had saw.

“(Y/N),” Corpse laughed. “You don’t have to cover your eyes.”

“I saw your face!” you said. “I-I saw your actual face! I have to gouge my eyes out or something!”

You felt his cold hands taking hold of your own, lowering them from your eyes so you could look up at him again. Although you tried to stop yourself, you let your eyes wander over his face, taking in every detail. It occurred to you in that moment that this was the first time you were seeing the face of a man you had been crushing on for the past six months.

“Come in,” you said, realizing that he was still just standing outside. “Come, get comfortable. I’m-I’m streaming, I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to end your stream early because of me.”

That voice! It comes from an actual person! A real, living person!

“You really think I’ll be able to return to my stream for another few hours while you’re here?” you questioned. “It’s fine, it’s just GTA with Rae. She’ll probably play with Sykkuno instead when I get off.”

You felt like you were in a daze as you returned to your room. You quickly told Rae you were hopping off stream and you’d explain to her - and to your viewers - why later on. Your chat started asking what was wrong, but you ended the stream before responding.

When you returned to your living room, you saw the back of Corpse’s curly, brown haired head sitting on your couch. Your heart was racing with so many different emotions. You couldn’t believe he was actually here, that the voice you had befriended nearly half a year ago was actually sat in your house.

“Wait a second,” you said, realizing something. “Don’t you live like...five hours away? Corpse, did you drive five hours to come visit me?”

He looked up at you and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So?! Corpse, you have nerve issues! You can’t even sit straight for ten minutes!” You were suddenly starting to feel guilty, although obviously you hadn’t asked Corpse to come visit you.

“I’m fine!” he assured you. “Do I look like I’m in pain? I wanted to come give you your merch, and I figured this would be a nice surprise too!”

You went to sit next to him, your heart beating faster the closer you got to him. You were sure this was just a dream and you’d wake up in bed at any moment. To test your theory, you slowly inched your finger forward to softly poke Corpse’s cheek. He chuckled as you jumped back, shocked by the success of your touch.

“You’re real!” you blurted, causing more laughter.

“I am real. Are you surprised?”

“Just a little,” you admitted.

You both sat in silence, just looking at one another. You weren’t really sure what to say. It was like every possible topic you could bring up, or every joke you could make, was suddenly gone. It was obvious Corpse was feeling the same as he was usually the one who could keep a conversation going.

“Try on your hoodie,” he finally said, passing you the hoodie he was still holding to you. You took it excitedly and slipped it on over your head. The warm material engulfed you immediately. It was definitely a few sizes too big, but that was your favorite part - the bagginess of it.

“It’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me.”

“I told you I would. I really wanted you to have at least one article of my merch. You were so excited for it when I released it.”

You held the hoodie close to your nose, taking in the scent of Corpse that still lingered on it. There was so much happiness bubbling up inside of you that you felt like you were going to burst at any moment. You really did not think things could get any better.

“Can I hug you?” you asked.

Corpse smiled and opened his arms as a response. You immediately lunged into them, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. It was the last confirmation you needed that this was all real, that Corpse was really there.

The hug was prolonged and eventually Corpse was pulling you into his lap, squeezing you back as if afraid that you would disappear too. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his curly locks brush against your face. You never wanted to let go, and you could tell that Corpse felt the same way.

When you finally pulled away from the hug, you looked down into Corpse’s eyes. His hands were still resting on your hips, and yours were on his shoulders. Before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward to kiss him. The minute your lips collided, it was like someone had set off fireworks inside your small apartment.

You pulled away almost immediately, realizing what you had done. “I-I’m sorry. That-that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

There was a small smile on Corpse’s face as his hands came up to cup your face and pulled you to him, attaching his lips to yours again.

Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better.

Forgetting the world around you, you became lost in one another. Your arms were back around Corpse’s neck, holding on to him as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. One of his hands was still on your cheek as the other slipped behind your head, your hair tangling around his fingers. There was so much passion in the kiss that it made your head spin, and when the two of you finally pulled away it felt like your head was spinning.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Corpse told you. “I may have been hoping something like this would happen when I got here.”

“What?” you questioned. “Why did you never tell me how you were feeling?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Corpse teased. “I was always flirting with you, I had hoped you’d get the message.”

“Corpse, you flirt with everyone!”

The two of you laughed. You couldn’t help but dip your head to kiss him once more. His lips were intoxicating, and you just wanted to kiss them all the time.

“How long were you planning on staying?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I was going to see how well this visit went and go from there.”

You giggled and cuddled into Corpse’s arms. “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I think I’ll have a hard time letting you go now, though.”

“I think I’ll have a hard time leaving.”

[kiridarling]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄

d.kaminari and h.sero | f!reader + corruption + weed/shotguning + praise + threesome + more! minors dni!

— 3.6k words

"I knew I wanted you the second I saw you."

Denki’s addicted to the pre-concert high.

His veins hum with a song that has yet to start, fingers drumming some mixed beat on the body of his electric guitar as he assumes his place on the dark stage. The theater’s dead silent, the room suspended in a titilating anticipation—and the steady rhythm Denki's heart dissapates into chaos when the faint crack of Eijirou's drumsticks bounce off the walls, and the click in his earpiece begins.

Eijirou hits the kick drum once. Twice. Then his hands fly across the set in a flurry, the rolling beat echoing into the packed arena and spurring the crowd to explode, fans flying to their feet to render their vocal cords for the night.

As the other instruments fill the blank space, Denki's hand grips the back of his guitar's neck, on hold for his solo, and by the time the electric blond steps up to the mic, pavlov's theory has already kicked in overdrive.

"Who’s ready to feel good tonight?”

“Dude, I’m on fucking fire!” Denki vibrates, nearly glowing in comparison to his bandmates as they sift through a flurry of fans at a meet and greet. It always seems like Denki and Eijirou are the only ones with energy after a good show—but what can he say? Being on stage lights him up like a live wire.

"You said that last concert, buddy," Hanta snorts, before his a fan ran sacks his attention by shoving a tiara into his hairline.

"And? My point still stan—" Denki cuts himself off with a gasp as a bra slings across his face, followed by a burst of pain when the metal hits him in the cheek. He peels the lacy thing off with an eye on the audience and an eyebrow raised in question, unsure of what to do with the undergarment (other than put it on) until someone screams:

“Sign it!”

Denki shrugs and pops the Sharpie cap with his teeth to sign the crest of both cups before flinging it back into the audience—he can only pray it pinpoints its rightful owner before the meet and greet ends.

Katsuki clicks his tongue (because he hates these events) and as the next round of fans lineup in front of their table, Eijirou stretches like this is a sport, saying, “Guess it’s go-time.”

"Go-time is when we perform," Katsuki grumbles in the seat to Denki’s right. "Go-time is when we're in the studio makin' a goddamn album, not meeting crazy fuckin' fans—no, I’m not gonna marry you, you obsessed fuckin—“

“Oh, you're just salty you're not popular with the ladies~“ Denki gushes, wiggling his eyebrows, and a fan hands him a canvas the size of his upper body. “Un—oh wow, did you make this for me—Unlike me, of course.”

"Okay, pretty boy." Hanta rolls his eyes, before signing a phone case and returning it to an overzealous fan. With a hand covering his mouth, he whispers, “Can you believe this guy? So full of himself, I swear.”

The fan giggles and Hanta meets the blushing cheeks with a satisfied smirk. Denki huffs from the disrespect, crossing both arms over his chest. “Full of myself? It’s not my fault I’m sexy—*an autograph? Of course!"

Katsuki chuckles, scratching under his chin with ink blue fingertips, "Call yourself sexy one more fuckin’ time and I'm projectile vomiti—no, I'm not signing your tits, give me a goddamn paper or somethin—"

"What?” Denki scoffs, chest collapsing with the disbelief that one could make such a lie. “I'm literally the definition of I'm sexy and I kno—"

"Um, excuse me?"

His gesticulations freeze at the passive voice, arms stretched wide and to the sky, and Denki knows he has to look absolutely ridiculous as he blinks down at the next person in-line; who's stood with bambi eyes and such a sweet smile the electric blond thinks it might make him sick.

"I-I'm your biggest fan! Could you—um, please sign this for me?"

She comes alive, shoving a poster into his chest with pink cheeks and shifty irises. Out of all the bras, all the breasts he's been asked to sign today, and here you are, with your pocket-sized poster and your lamb countenance. Denki beams.

"Of course, Sweetness! What's your name?"

"[Y/N]!" you say, giggling, and it's so. Cute. Denki opens the Sharpie and struggles to focus on signing instead of your gorgeous fucking face.

"Anything specific you'd like me to say?"

And he knows there's a rule—there always are when it comes to these things, and it's simple: don't fuck the fans. As tempting as it is, don't invite them back to your hotel room because there are too many uncertainties, and if something leaks to the press that’s possibly career ending, that’s it. So, Denki holds his tongue. For the future of himself and the band.

"Uhm, just write what you want! I...I think I'd like it best if it was authentic and came straight from you, so."

Fuck. Of course she does.

And maybe Denki just can't help it when he leans down to speak, perhaps a little lower, "You want something more authentic, cutie?"

You light up like a kid on Christmas, gasping, "Yes please Mr. Kaminari!"

So eager, too.

"Awe, you can call me Denki if you'd like," he coos, and you nod so quickly he starts to worry about whiplash. "Meet me out back, in the alley behind the venue if you wanna get to know me better. Sound like a deal?”

"O-Okay!" You nod, and when he returns your sign you grip it tight between both hands. "I'll um, see you soon Mr. Kami—I mean, D-Denki!"

You flush from the mix up and bow in apology, and Denki knows he's made the right choice when you light up, indicating you have no idea what he meant at all.

"Row row row your boat, gently down the stream," you hum, sniffling. You’re unsure if your nose is running, it's too frozen to tell, and it has you patting to confirm it’s presence. With your hands stuffed in your pockets and a jacket wrapped tight around your body, you'd think you'd be warm, but no.

The alley is dark. It's dank enough that you can smell it and you're positive what you're dancing in is vomit, but none the matter—today, you met your favorite band. Literally the people you'd die for.

"Merrily, merrily," kicking the loose rocks in the gravel every which way, you enjoy the sound of them scattering against the surrounding brick walls. "Merrily, merrily..."

"Life is but a dream," a voice finishes, a yelp rips from your throat and you jump twenty feet in alarm. But you’d know that voice anywhere; Denki chuckles at your reaction and it has you recoiling with timidity, unprepared for the surprised audience. "You have a lovely voice, Cutie. You should use it more often."

"I..." but you're not exactly sure what to say to that, knowing Denki's heard so many professional voices in his career to last a lifetime, and yet yours is lovely. "T-Thank you."

Denki watches your reaction with a hum and a smile, his visible breath escaping between the slit of his lips and into the cool air.

"Of course, Cutie."

Another voice sighs, shattering the friction that fills your gut when Denki gives you that look. You're not sure what to call it, but it makes you shiver, and that's enough to make you to run and hide.

"...Denki, who's this?"

"Um," the blond places his frozen hands in his pockets and swivels his head around to Hanta, guilty written all over his face. "A fan?"

Hanta sighs again, head tilting to the right in exhausperation, “Denki—"

"I know, I know," the electric blond sighs, waving him off. "But it's fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

Hanta's black hair threatens to fall into his face so he combs through it, and you try not to drool at the sight of his bicep flexing. "Yeah, until we get caught."

A honk blares and it has you shrieking, to reveal a parked tour bus in the alley once the lights flicker on. Denki points the car keys at the vehicle and the doors swing open. "Awe c'mon, don't be a sour puss. It's a one-time thing, alright?"

Hanta's eyes narrow into slits.

"Seriously, dude! I'm a man of my word! On God."

The noirette's shoulders sag, but he waltzes around both of you to get on the bus. Over his shoulder, he warns, "Denki I swear to fucking god—"

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful~" he singsongs, hopping onto the stairs after the pianist. When Denki notices not you're not moving, he stills at the top step. "You coming, [Y/N]?"

"O-Oh, am I um, am I allowed?" You ask, biting your cheek at the thought of what Hanta just said as you peer around the electric blond’s body. Denki snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you're allowed," he exits the bus, only to tug you on via your collar. "Now c'mon! Let's have some fun, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Denki steers you through the bus and into a space that looks a bit like a living room, with a couch, tv, and a makeshift kitchen in the corner. Following Denki to the kitchen, you look around.

"Where are Kirishima and Bakugou?"

"Out drinking," Denki tosses, flicking open a RedBull. You wonder if this is always the post-concert routine. Hanta fiddles in with something on the couch, but he still has yet to look you in the eyes tonight, even when you ask him:

"What are you doing?"

It seems he didn't realize you’ve relocated from the kitchen to the couch next to him from the noirette nearly jumps. The green stuff in his fingers crumbles, and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

"It stinks," you add. Denki snorts, jumping onto the cushion to your right. There isn’t a whole lot of room and his addition causes your shoulders to slush between the two of them, but it’s strangely comfortable.

"It's weed," he explains like it's obvious. "You smoke, Cutie?"

"Obviously not," you and Hanta say at the same time. You turn his way, and for the first time that night, Hanta looks you in the eyes—and it's a smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners, but there's...something else. Something else hidden behind the thinnest veil that makes you cower, if ever so slightly.

Something feral.

Denki, unaware of the crushing grip your hand has around your thigh, huffs, and tosses the energy drink down his gullet, "It was a genuine question! Geez."

"What are you doing?" You ask again, and the electric blond whimpers from being ignored.

"Rolling a joint," he utters, lifting the paper to his lips to lick the length. You watch, semi-disgusted, as Hanta finally folds over the last bit of paper around the crest of the joint, gluing it together.

"Know what a joint is?" The noirette implores.

"Yeah," you breathe, shifting at the new closeness Denki provides when you feel his chest against your back. "My roommate smokes, so."

Hanta taps it on a tray, or what Denki describes as "packing it down," before twisting the tip and tossing it back onto the tray in conclusion. Denki cheers.

"Aha! The joint-rolling master has blessed us! Everyone say thank you, joint-rolling master."

"Thank you, joint-rolling master!" You giggle when Hanta's face turns a ruddy red. He reaches over to pop Denki upside the head. Denki gasps, before lunging to return the favor, and you squeal from being jostled between two men.

"Okay," when Denki returns to his seat he's panting and so is the noirette. He picks the joint off the tray and though there isn't much room, turns so he's facing you, your legs smushed against his body indian style. "You ready, Cutie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you huff, swinging your arms in preparation despite the lack of space. Just in case.

Hanta snorts, holding the joint to your lips, and Denki raises the lighter and raises it to the end until it's hot enough to burn on its own.

“Now suck."

You do, cheeks puffing, and you blow the smoke straight in Denki's face. It's...a lot.

"Not quite," Hanta chuckles, and flips you via the waist so you're facing him. Denki whines from the change but finds solace in hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Suck, and then inhale. Act like it's a big breath—you gotta hold it in your lungs for a sec."

"Okay," you assert with a nod, eyes burning with a new determination. When Hanta holds it to your lips, you suck and inhale, and start coughing your throat raw, in a flurry of smoke and tears, eyes watering and nose burning. You scramble for water, but by the time you get some, the only thing that's left to soothe is a sore throat.

"Here," Denki offers, grabbing the joint before flipping you his way again. "Take smaller hits, like this."

Denki's mouth wraps around the tip and smoke pours from his lips so smoothly you're determined to do the same. With a raised eyebrow, he passes it back to you, and though it takes a moment, you try again.

The back of your throat tingles but the glide is much smoother, and you find that it doesn't burn on your next exhale. So you do it again. And again. And agai—

"Okay," Hanta picks the joint from your fingers with a click of his tongue, before taking a hit himself. You frown, making grabby hands.

"Hey, wai—"

"Nu-uh," he tuts, pushing you down by your forehead. "You'll feel it soon enough, trust me."

You whine, crossing your arms over your chest. Hanta gives you nothing but a raised eyebrow as he takes another hit, and you're convinced it's to taunt you. "I'm not eve—"

But then the world blurs, a bit, and your legs hum in a way they haven't before; it's warm and it's nice, and it has you blinking down at your hands in bewilderment. Whoa.

"And there she goes," Denki announces, and somehow seized the joint from the noirette when you weren't looking. Your mouth drops to say something, but all you can produce is a light giggle before it melts into a guffaw that only comes straight from the gut, your hands trying to soothe your cramping belly. Tears come to your eyes fairly easily, and when Hanta asks if you're okay he sounds like he's underwater, and that's enough to send you flying through another fit of laughs.

"I—y-yeah, I'm just—just fine," you snort behind a hand, chest spasming as you finally gather yourself enough to calm down. "I'm good. Mhm."

"Yep. Totally fine," Hanta says, but something in his tone suggests he doesn't believe you at all.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to avoid another laugh attack with your hands bunching the bottom of your shirt for extra purchase. Hanta narrows his eyes while taking another hit, so you sock him in the shoulder with a huff. "Stop looking at me like that."

The noirette snorts, "Like what?"

"Like..." you start strong, but falter under his eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Hanta hums at the comment but says nothing, and you're not sure if your mind fabricated the quick look he gives the electric blond sat behind you. Denki speaks first.

"Do you know what shotgunning is, [Y/N]?"

You frown, "Like a shotgun?"

"So no," Hanta answers for you.

"Here," Denki offers, turning you again. Plucking the nub of a joint from the noirette, he takes a big hit before picking your face up by the jaw and hovering your lips over yours. You're not sure what to do, but once your lips connect, smoke fills your lungs, and you don't exhale until Denki pulls away. You blink, a little dazed.

You just kissed Denki Kaminari.

"Feel good?" He asks, never leaving your personal space. You nod, and he grins. "Wanna do it again?"

Your hands fist his shirt, teeth tearing the inside of your cheek due to the amount of embarrassment this question encourages. "I wan—can we do it again but without the um...without the smoke?"

Denki's hands find your hips and it's hard for him to contain a sly smirk, biting his lips to move in on his prey.

"I knew I waned you the second I saw you."

Denki's lips feel much better when he puts a little weight into the kiss, pinning you between him and the noirette. You're not exactly sure what you're doing but he takes the lead, titling his head and kissing harder, rougher, so your lips are pink and swollen by the time he pulls away.

"A-Another," you whimper, tightening your grip around his tee.

Denki hums in contemplation, picking your head up by your chin. "Ask nicely, Cutie."

Flushing deeper, your eyes dart to the coffee table.

“Another, please."

"Good girl," Denki coos, and he's propping you up against Hanta's chest. You shiver at the comment, finding purchase on Hanta's thighs as Denki kisses you on the lips again. "Wanna feel even better?"

"Yes," you nod vehemently. "Yes please."

Denki hums at that, climbing down your body as his hands glide from your waist to the band of your pants. You frown, "What—What are you doing?"

"Eating you out, Cutie," the electric blond says, hands freezing once his thumbs dip under your waistband. "That okay?"

"Oh okay," you breathe, relaxing against Hanta's chest. "Y-Yeah, that's fine."

Denki rips your pants off at that, tossing them towards the corner of the room and ultimately, to a place you'll probably never find them. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy, and flicks your clit with a smirk. You jump.

"H-Hey, that's not—"

He flattens his tongue against your slit and chuckles when you shudder, and after tossing both of your legs over his shoulders. You're not sure what he does after that though, because Hanta picks your face up by the chin and presses his lips to yours.

Denki slides a finger inside and you squeal against Hanta's chapped lips. You hear the electric blond moan, readjusting himself between your thighs, before you finally peel your lips off the noirette's, chest having from lack of oxygen.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Denki gushes before his warm lips fold around your clit and he sucks, humming in surprise when you buck against his mouth. Hanta hooks his chin around your shoulder with a second joint dangling between his lips—and where it came from is beyond you.

Once he exhales, the joint finds its way between your lips and he instructs you to inhale, and the head rush afterwards has you digging your head into his chest.

"You're so wet, holy shit," Denki pulls away, lips strawberry pink and glossed with slick as he trades his both for his thumb and inserting another finger. It crooks just right and that's enough to make your hips buck, nails carving crescents in Hanta's thighs.

“T-There,” you whimper, wiggling your hips again, and Denki grins, thumb pressing into your clit. Your thighs quiver with the strain it takes to hold them back and Hanta’s calloused hands skip to your waist after dropping the burning joint off in the tray.

“Pull his hair,” the noirette commands, but you hesitate, hands glued to his thighs. Hanta sighs, reaching over you to tug for himself.

“Mph—fuck!” Denki’s eyelids flutter as he moans into your pussy with a new passion, his hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You gasp at his reaction, fingers scrambling under Hanta’s own to thread through his electric blond hair.

“Move your hips—grind against his face, c’mon,” Hanta’s grip tightens around your waist as he offers the suggestion, and you whimper with a nod before your bucking into Denki’s mouth without abandon. As the noirette trails butterfly kisses up the column of your neck, the coil in your gut snaps, and you barely have time to squeak out a warning before you’re flooding Denki’s mouth.

“Good girl...ride it out—there you go,” Hanta coos, biting your ear. You shiver as Denki pulls away with a final (and obscene) slurp, grinning like he didn’t just shatter you to pieces with nothing but his tongue and fingers.

Denki’s lips are on yours in a blink—you moan, legs still buzzing from the afterglow as you weakly grope for the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Taste good, don’t ya?” He says with a click of a tongue after pulling away.

“I guess so,” you flush, the humiliation from so shamelessly digging your heels into Denki’s back finally settling in. Hanta reaches under your arm for Denki’s chin.

“What? Want a taste too?” The electric blond giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Hanta snorts.

“If you could be so kind.”

Denki hums at that, placing a hand on your inner thigh for balance as he slams his lips on the noirette’s for the first time that night. He dives straight for the kill, tongue and teeth and everything, and Denki moas when Hanta’s teeth sink into his bottom lip; you find that you like it a lot.

Though eventually you tired of watching, and press the heel of your hand on Hanta’s hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. The pianist hisses, and you grin—you’ve got their attention now.

“Whoa Sweetheart, what are y—“

“I...I want more,” you assert despite the tremor in your voice. Hanta raises an eyebrow in question which has you pressing harder in hopes he’ll cave just as easily as before. Just in case, you add, “Please.”

Denki redirects your attention by squishing your cheeks until you’re looking him in the eyes. With dark eyes, he says, “You sure you want more, Cutie?”

You nod despite the restriction, “Wanna...wanna get to know you better.”

You watch Denki’s pupils dialate at that, and he can’t even hold back a groan when he says:

“Gods, Baby. We’re going to ruin you.”

unpopular opinion: bakugou's the bassist and kirishima's the drummer. fight me.

not me projecting 12yo sun's fantasy of getting railed in the tour bus by 5sos um—

[harfanfare]

Pomegranate Rule || Idia Shroud x Reader

Obligatory pair work with someone you like very much on a school project and have a chance to fall for each other more? - cliché.

The difference with Idia was that he kidnapped his project partner.

Idia leaned out from behind the column, whispering words of encouragement and summoning up the plan of this meeting he compiled at yesterday’s evening. He practised this conversation all night in front of the mirror, but as soon as he gained confidence, he forgot the text and desperately searched for the next line in the script.

There was a faint blush on his pale cheeks. Not from the sun, not from the fatigue, but nervousness. He hadn't left his room for someone in a long time, and what he was about to do required from him new social skills...

…to ask you to be his project partner, that’s it.

Ortho stood right next to Idia, leaning out from behind his older brother's silhouette and shifting his gaze once at the courtyard, once at him.

Idia cuffed his fingers on the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

Ortho's presence helped him a lot to keep on the promise he made to himself: today he will actually talk to you not on the phone, but face-to-face and suggest that you could do Sir Crewel’s project together.

He knew that you didn’t have a pair, since Grim went off where he could bug Adeuce combo, and even if he didn’t, you two would be counted as one student. But, to at least make some progress, you were picking up leaves you suspected to be just right for the experiment.

With each bush, you were getting closer and closer to the column behind which Idia was hiding, and he knew that if he won’t hurry with his proposal, someone will enter the square, dispatch the last pieces of Idia's courage and disperse you, and take you away.

For example someone like Epel and Jack, who have just entered the courtyard using the entrance on the opposite side.

This coincidence seemed to Idia to be as unfortunate as if all the forces of the world wanted to stop him from what he was planning and yet to validate his theory that it was not worth ever leave his room. On the other hand, since he was already here, and it took him a good few dozen attempts to motivate himself, he could not lose this unstarted game.

Idia, in an act of desperation, rushed towards you, hoping that the first-graders would not notice you.

You both keel over into the bushes as Jack and Epel headed towards you.

"Jack Howl, Epel Felmier!" Ortho greeted them, distracting all possible attention from the bushes that had just been approached by two people, both unaware of what was going on. "How is your project going? What topic did you choose?”

"Ortho-kun! What are you doing here?” Epel replied, coming closer to the young Shroud.

As Ortho distracted them with a conversation, Idia had an intimidating thought: what would happen if they saw your two in the bushes? He was madly blushing at the scenarios that created in his head. He put his hand on your lips—he was afraid that you would say anything that would attract unwanted attention—he slipped with you through the empty corridors to the dorm of Ignihyde.

…He forgot to explain what he was doing, and it likely looked like him committing a crime, but nothing will happen if he explains everything in his room, right...?

You were able to ask Idia what was he doing, once he closed the doors. Till then, on every question you asked he hissed “Sheesh! Do you want us to be found?!” and “P-please! Let us get to headquarters where I will… explain the mission…”.

Soon enough, you found yourself in his room; electronics was the main source of light, and the screens glowed bright blue around them. Although you didn't see any exposed windows or lamps lit to illuminate the room, everything was clearly visible.

There was a mess there, a mixture of the cardboard disorder that prevails after moving a house and the chaos of a man whose constantly working on something, desk always cluttered with papers, pens and documents.

You were sure you would stand on some lost Lego block or pin if you put your foot behind the bed where Idia has set you down.

“So, Idia,” you started. “…What exactly I am doing in your room?”

"Uh, well...” he stuttered, trying to remember the speech from yesterday's practices. “I wish I would know what you're doing here... I mean- I know why I brought you here. I wanted to ask you something. Ask, yes.”

"Ask? About what?” you didn't mention that you can ask outside of your own room, and you wasn’t going to correct that.

Idia tried to explain the whole situation. He skipped the preparation process, his speeches and ideas, he didn’t even mention the project, so all he said was hard-to-understand, abstract justification from the current situation.

He said, at least, that he came up with the idea to take you somewhere further away, where there were no people, as first-grades entered the courtyard.

“So I'm here by accident?" you asked after listening to Idia, slightly cocking your head at the side. “I don't understand…”

“It was an accident. A bit,” he wanted to loudly groan at his helplessness but finally bit his tongue. “I didn't want you here. I mean, I wanted to, but I didn't plan on it. I mean- Aah, it’s so hard to explain!”

You waited in silence, only nodding, letting him take his time.

"Sorry, I just... I feel weird talking to you...” Idia admitted, lowering his head.

The definition of Idia’s "weirdness" was different from yours.

When you heard that he was calling you strange, you felt a pang in your heart. Really? After so many months of acquaintance and quite frequent texting on the phone, when finally there was one of those few moments when you could talk face-to-face, he says it's awkward?

The "weirdness" of that feeling in Idia was something he could not explain easily: the joy of talking to you, anxiety that he would say something wrong, an uncertainty that you would change your mind and stop talking to him, excitement because he knew how interesting person you are and the frustration for every accurate, teasing comment…

"Oh, I see," you tried not to sound depressing. "So let me leave.”

"No, wait, that's not what I meant..!”

Oh, no. Idia’ plan went downhill again.

Idia jumped to a drawer and started looking for something in it, digging through notebooks, cables and lost items.

“...Don't worry, Idia, we can end this conversation on the phone... or something.”

“No, no, no, wait, please!” discreetly took out a round metal box before he dashed to you, blocking the only way out, heavy equipment surrounding you that now seemed to be an impassable wall.

"Uh?"

He took the hard candy from the container he took from the shelf, though he did it so subtly, forcing himself to stare at you and keep your gaze from tearing away from him, so you couldn’t notice candy in his hand.

They were pomegranate drops that had been presented to him as a funny joke from a student who knew that a box, just like its contents, was enchanted by Vil's unique magic: whoever tasted them will not be able to move more than twenty meters from the place the fruit drop was eaten.

Haha, because you know, the members of Ignihyde don't go outside and won't even notice they were cursed.

Idia was sure that even Vil did not know that the candies had fallen into his hands.

"Huh? What are you-“

As soon as you opened your mouth, Idia pressed fruit drop up to your lips and covered them with his hand, in case you tried to spit it out. His movements became very mechanical and heavy, probably most of his muscles were strained. Because of that, you also couldn't push him away.

He only stepped out of your way you once swallowed the candy.

And so you were bound by a spell that you discovered the moment Idia let you towards the door. You stopped more than a meter from them, unable to even grasp the doorknob.

You swung your hand a few times as if not believing that none of your movements was moving you forward.

“Idia. I know we should talk, but by cutting me off from the door?”

Surprise with this solution, Idia's embarrassed smile, dripping sweat from the stress he felt, and a sudden dose of delicious sugar made you burst into laughter.

“This. Is. Great.” You accented each word, becoming more and more amused with each one as if you had just heard the best joke of the era. “Is it the fault of those drops?”

Idia, surprised by your reaction, finally relaxed. Your sudden, inexplicable outburst, hearty laugh calmed him down a lot. He even came to the conclusion that he really likes the way you laugh.

Ortho soon entered the room. You two shortened the story and explained that you probably have to stay here for the night.

"Oh, so nii-san finally asked you to do a project with him?"

“Project...?” you repeated. Then you turned your head to Idia and smirked at him. “So that was what it was for?”

He answered you with a shrug as if last day Idia didn’t have any thoughts screaming “Project!” and that followed by “[Name]!”.

However, Ortho said it for him.

Idia, of course, tried to stop him, but Ortho knew how much time his brother spent just planning to talk to you. A wave of shame flooded Idia as you listened to Ortho's words with interest. And maybe with a pinch of delight spilling over your heart—Idia did so much for you! You could feel the flush on your face and a smile spread across your lips every time you heard about Idia's efforts.

Soon after, after the excitement of this conversation had died down and you thanked Idia for his planning efforts, a package of cookies and biscuits was opened. You couldn't go to the cafeteria to eat anything, and even ordinary snacks from school vending machines taste better in pleasant company, right?

“We haven't had many opportunities to talk like that, have we?"

You took a sip of the warm tea Idia had made—it was incredibly bitter but chilled enough not to burn your tongue—and watched the screen where Idia was working.

He pushed himself away from writing some codes with some slowness, but he didn't look at you.

“You're right...”

After a pause, he started speaking again, this time in a whisper, but you heard him very clearly.

"I've always admired you, [Name]-shi..." he said, pressing his knees against his chest. “Talking to so many different people and solving their problems... I often find it tedious and self-righteous to interfere in the affairs of others, however…. Everything you do always ends well. I-I couldn't do that.”

“I should be saying it!” You said after a moment of silence as if you were processing words you completely didn't suspect him of. “You deal with electronics like a professional. Wait, you are the professional! How many programming languages have you already mastered? How many devices have you already created? You have a wonderful talent and... even your brother little is proof of it.”

You both looked at Ortho connected to specialized equipment. "CHARGING" was displayed on the screen, and by minutes the numbers were close to 100%.

Idia didn't smile at your words—instead he seemed incredibly focused. With each passing second, he had a more and more sincere expression of pleasant frustration, which was also reflected in his long hair behind which he tried to hide his face.

He couldn't even answer and just nodded.

"And... I have to confess to something," you began after another minute of pleasant silence, which you felt sorry to interrupt. "If you previously seemed quite average to me, maybe even a little pale-faced, now I know that you are special."

These words were already his limit. He couldn't take his eyes off you, forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink, and his lungs refused to cooperate.

His heart crashed for good after your next words.

"So... if you please," you got up and smiled at him. “Idia Shroud, will you do me this honour and become my project partner?”

"The curse already faded.”

You could reach the door and go to the farthest corners of the room. You could leave.

The project has been completed. With the light help of Ortho, who also wanted to contribute to the project, by two in the morning, you finished doing experiments, writing out data, conclusions and completing them with graphic documentation.

And then you played games for the next three hours; each game was digital and very engaging—it wasn't for Ortho, you and Idia wouldn't fall asleep even for a minute. Even when you went to bed—and there was a whole five-minute debate about where you were going to sleep—you talked in whispers about everything and nothing until one of you fell asleep.

Even if the attachment to Vil's magic was gone, you couldn't deny that you became attached to a certain blue-haired boy who followed the last lines of your conclusions with his golden eyes.

It was really fun.

He and Ortho probably would have done this project faster, but the collaboration of the three—you, Ortho and Idia—seemed so pleasant that if he could, he would do it once again. Even if that meant another research about hyper-difficult projects Crewel liked to torture his students with.

"I will come again," you said as suddenly as if you were reading his mind. He flinched at those words, and your tone of voice changed to a more biting tone. “You don't have to kidnap me this time.”

"I d-didn't..." he tried to deny but was stuck on the next words. “...Really? Will you really come here?”

“Your charm bound me more than candy, I can promise you,” you gave him one last smile before you closed the door behind you and rushed through the corridor with a strange, blissful feeling, looking forward to your next project.

So did he.

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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