#anyway yeah this was more just a self challenge to see if i could do imposter au without breaking the characterization I've got going rn

[sagau-my-beloved]

Death At The Hands Of A God

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you die/are killed (by Venti), angst

-

It seemed as if the rain was particularly heavy, almost unusually so as it fell in sheets, occasionally catching the light of the moon, making it look no different than strands of silver.

That should have been a sign, the rain, the fog, the agitation of the weather. Mondstadt hadn't faced a storm this bad since before their current Archon, even the winds of Dvalin paled in comparison.

Venti was so ignorant not to pick up on the clues laid out before him by his own nation as he trudged through heavy rain, his bow at the ready and a sinking feeling in his chest.

He would never say he disliked the rain, despite what unpleasant memories linger in the back of his mind from those times. But everything carried a harsher weight when was faced with his current task, one assigned to him by no other than his creator.

Venti stopped to rest a moment, leaning against a tree for partial coverage, though it did little to shield his already soaked clothes. He felt something heavy and unpleasant in his chest as he reflected on the situation, an unshakable sense of wrongness, one that clouded his mind and dulled his senses. You were what he was after, you who posed a threat to the divine order simply because of your face.

He thought back on his creators’ honeyed words, a sickeningly sweet tone that he had never heard them use before, not that they very commonly addressed him at all, which made this particular summons out of place, a mixture of excitement and worry bubbling in his chest as he walked through their temple. To kill someone impersonating them, that is what they ordered him, hinting at the possible consequences his nation may face if he didn't comply with the utmost enthusiasm, the threat of which rang particularly loud when faced with what they had done to other nations in fits of anger.

He knew deep within him that this wasn't remotely justified, that he might as well be punished alongside you if the crime was simply stealing a face. If only you chose to look like another human, or even an Archon, he would have taken your mimicry of him as a complementary. But alas. Those feelings were pushed down and covered by the vow he made to his nation, one born of nothing but love and a promise for a brighter future.

Venti had considered alternatives, confronting you with your motive, begging you to make yourself scarce, making his own judgement on your reasons and framing his response accordingly, but those were all fleeting thoughts, quickly pushed away as soon as they arose. He couldn't get attached, he couldn't afford to think of you as human, and he certainly couldn't afford it getting back to his creator that he failed them.

He had heard about your existence from other sources, apparently being so bold as to walk directly into Mondstadt. You weren't met with pitchforks and torches, his people were more civilized than that, but the hostility was as sharp as a knife. You had left of your own accord after having no luck obtaining food or a place to stay, he had only heard after the fact from gossipers drinking late into the night, the faces of which were forced into his mind as he once again thought of his creators’ threat.

Venti was pulled from his thoughts due to a subtle noise, one almost unnoticeable through the heavy onset of rain, but it was there. A branch and a pile of leaves, something big enough to break them, and no one in their right mind would be out in this weather, except...

He swallowed what little apprehension he’d not already buried, reverting his mindset to something it had been five hundred years ago with the quick draw of his bow. The Archon saw you in the distance, just as soaked as he was, clothes tattered and foreign, scared. A quick death was the least you deserved, one free from suffering, and maybe your next life would be more forgiving.

He aimed for your head, a clear shot even now, but it seemed the moonlight that glinting off his bow caught your attention as you quickly turned your body to face him in a defensive stance, eyes wide, fearful, as if you could see what was about to come to fruition.

Your mouth moved, only fragments of the noise it produced were carried to him, broken syllables and muffled notes the very wind urged him to listen to.

You had said his name.

Venti faltered before the arrow released, for the first time in centuries, its' path no longer as steady or sure as it had been.

It hit your throat.

Venti's legs were moving before he consciously realized, forcing his body to where you fell, as if collapsing in on yourself, until he could finally see you clearly, drenched in rain and golden liquid, mixing together indiscriminately as they soak into the ground below.

There was a feeling of shock, which developed in his throat first, spreading evenly throughout the rest of his body, as if it were in his bloodstream. He looked at your terrified expression, a pained and now lifeless one, holding only fragments of the fear you felt.

What had he done.

Venti felt himself fall to his knees, hands immediately going to where his arrow lay firmly lodged, feeling for a pulse in an act he knew to be worthless.

"No. No, n-no— no. Please!" His voice cracked as his mind caught up with what his eyes were forcing him to behold.

You were the divine creator, Teyvat's one true God, and he had—

No. He couldn't even think it, the word that was on the tip of his mind carried nothing but pain, anguish and insufferable heartache, the likes of which he hadn't felt, well since...

Without thinking, Venti wrapped his arms around you, laid his head on your stomach, forced his eyes closed, and prayed. For your return, for forgiveness, and if not for any of that, then simply for a form of retribution.

He hadn't realized he'd started crying, tears and rain alike falling from his face onto your form, pooling at his eyes until the world around him became harder and harder to see.

The position you both rested in was not unlike that day long ago, forever etched in his memory and resurfaced through reflections.

Was this simple his fate? To find himself holding in his arms the corpse of someone he loved so dearly, over and over again. Was it written in his very being that all good things would be torn violently from him with little care to how it left him shattered, scrambling for the pieces of what little piece of mind he had left.

There was no coming back from this, no form of atonement. He could feel the shackles encasing his wrists, invisibly tying him to this moment, to where you had stood alive moments prior. His days of living freely died with you, forever encased in the space between where your souls had briefly met, and it was no more than he deserved.

It was only a moment later that your body was gone, dissolved into the stardust it was born from, slipping through his arms and carried by the wind that no longer obeyed him. That didn't stop him from reaching desperately, gasping and clawing at the air for what remained, heart in his throat as he begged for mercy, for anything but you depriving him of your vessel even after death.

You couldn't really be gone, not fully, you who so powerfully morphed this world from willpower alone, who disappeared for an infinite stretch of time only to descend again. Even if your vessel may have been no stronger than human, your soul was as old and powerful as existence itself, it would linger on in whatever form it had existed before, watching, waiting.

He would be ready for when you decided to give this world a second chance, he would wait an eternity and more to see your face again and repent a thousand times over, bear any hardships in the time between only to fall to his knees in complete acceptance at whatever you deem an acceptable punishment when faced with your light again.

But first...

It seemed as if there was a loose end to tie up, a deceiver bearing the ultimate sin, one much more deserving of his arrow, and one that would suffer a fate worse than death in your name.

Venti roughly brushed the tears from his face, eyes darkening as he shakily pulled himself from his knees, feeling as if his body couldn't decide between flying or collapsing.

His ‘creator’ would soon face all the fear and pain that was forced upon you, the wrath of a god who had lost everything for the second time, a goal he planned to pursue till his dying breath.

[pl4n]

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[cyborg-franky]

How do the boys (Zoro, Law, Kid and Ace) try to impress the girl they have a crush on? How do they act when their love is around? 👀💕

I have just had a week of being uncreative so I hope I didn't get too rusty. And I hope you enjoy this <3

I made it gender neurtral. Law x GN Reader Zoro x GN Reader Kid x GN Reader Ace x GN Reader

Law

He scoffs at the notion of showing off in front of anyone., let alone a crush. He’s not that kind of person. He doesn’t need to put on a show to impress you.

Law knows his superior intellect and amazing devil fruit are all he needs to impress you anyway.

Without realizing it, he’ll often info dump to you about the things he’s interested in, how to fix this bone, and how to treat that burn. 

He’s the kind of guy who needs you to know he’s the most intelligent person in the room.

That doesn’t mean there's nothing there, his crush means alot to him, and he can come across as an asshole when they are standing there listening to him over-explaining things.

He knows you think he’s a fantastic fighter. 

He doesn’t ask you what you thought of his moves, though. Instead, he listens intently to the chatter around the Tang, basking in your indirect praise and remembering what you liked about his performance the most. As long as you’re watching, he’ll aim to do better next time.

You are flattered he invites you to so many of his doctor duties, but you don’t need him to over explain taking blood, plus the needles, no thank you.

Zoro

Most of the time he’s not the type to go out of his way to impress anyone.

Maybe around his crush, he lifts heavier things, making sure their eyes are on him while he shows off.

But he’ll act like it’s nothing that he goes this hard every workout session.

When he’s resting, he flexes and gives you a little show.

Zoro thinks he’s smooth, but it’s really obvious to you.

How he smirked at your reaction when he picked up another weight seemingly effortlessly, though he could feel the strain.

He's the type of guy who is always lifting whenever his crush is around. 

He was still acting nonchalant as you complimented his form, impressed with how much weight he was pressing. 

He also loves to show off his sword techniques in front of you when a battle breaks out. His focus never wavers, but there is that little extra something he puts on just for you.

Kid

He’s a show-off, and he knows it. He gets louder and more volatile than usual. He has to make comments loudly to get your attention.

He works out in front of you whenever he gets a chance, putting on a theatrical display of his powers just for you. Not just in battle but as a general: Look what I can do! He claims he’s just fixing up the ship, but he needs your attention and praise as he swirls metal around in the sky, making things appear from thin air and turning junk into treasure.

“Get a load of this,” he barks, smirking as his metal arm grows. His massive fist clenches as he eyes you up, greedily absorbing every expression. 

“Pretty fuckin’ impressive, huh?” Oh, you know he knows it is, but you humor him by agreeing. You see how he puffs up his chest proudly cackles as he sends junk flying, making sure you can see just how powerful he is.

Ace

Ace is strange, he’s both full of himself and lacks self confidence.

He’s on the striker, enjoying the nice weather and playing around with the waves, just needing off the main ship, doing tricks on his personal boat.

“Oh wow, Ace!” his attention snaps to you as you watch him.

That’s when he starts trying to impress you, knowing you like what you see. “Oh yeah? Check this out then!” He calls, a big grin on his freckled face. He uses his fire to power the striker, going faster and faster, fighting against the waves as he pulls off more complicated and challenging tricks, all for you.

His attention is always half on what he’s doing and how the expression on your face changes with each stunt, getting more daring.

He loves it, loves your claps, adores how you gasp, knowing you care about him. Everything goes to his head as the tricks get elaborate.

He always tries to show off whenever you're around from that day forward.

[sinsofsummers]

push & pull

5.7k | din djarin x f!reader

summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end. note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon. note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.

With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.

"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"

Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.

That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.

But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.

You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.

Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.

So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).

You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.

This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.

There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—

Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.

—

It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.

Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.

"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.

You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."

His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?

"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.

You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"

He didn't answer.

"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."

"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.

"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."

Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."

You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."

"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."

"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.

This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.

You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."

With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"

"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."

—

You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.

On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.

As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.

Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.

This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.

Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.

It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.

And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.

You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.

It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.

"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.

He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.

"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."

You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.

"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.

You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."

If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."

You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.

They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."

Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.

When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.

"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"

You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.

Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.

You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?

Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.

"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.

His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."

You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.

"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.

"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.

"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"

His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"

"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."

Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."

You swallowed roughly. "So?"

He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."

Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."

"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.

To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.

He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."

You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.

Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.

With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.

He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."

You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.

The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.

The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."

You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"

He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."

You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Are you—”

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”

This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind. 

With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like. 

Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?

Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.

“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead. 

His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.

You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving. 

“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”

“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”

You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean. 

“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”

“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”

When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently. 

Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him. 

Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar. 

“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”

He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”

“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”

Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”

Well, how were you going to deny him then? 

You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance. 

“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”

A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.” 

He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared. 

“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”

He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”

Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”

Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth. 

You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly. 

Now…now you needed him inside you. 

“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?” 

He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again. 

You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la. 

“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged. 

“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”

Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue. 

His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”

“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”

You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck. 

Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled. 

Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, ��Mesh’la, I—”

You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.

Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege. 

“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.

He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him. 

You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”

He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.

You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”

He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you. 

The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again. 

“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.

He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release. 

You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”

For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”

tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!

adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE

this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl

the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk

[brekker-by-brekkerr]

There's no way you can convince me the writing for Eloise in part 2 of season 3 was good.

We're expected to believe that Eloise Bridgerton, who gets so upset about injustices to women, who cares deeply for her friends, would hear about Cressida's issues and be like "hmm yeah sucks to suck."

And people can't say it's because Eloise is only concerned with herself because we've seen her get so upset about the plight of other people, we've seen her going and engaging with conversations outside her circle, we've seen her empathizing with Theo and his circumstances, we've seen her trying to hunt down LW to help Pen back before she knew the truth.

JUST THIS SEASON we saw Eloise go to Cressida's house to check on her because she noticed that she was acting off. So you can't even tell me Eloise doesn't care about her. I feel like the writers are trying to gaslight the viewers in part 2 to thinking Eloise didn't ever care that much about Cressida when WE LITERALLY SAW THAT SHE DID. Cressida even says Eloise was a great friend to her.

Yeah, I understand that Eloise has a lot going on right now, and so to some extent, I could see her not being as present for Cressida as she needs. That happens. But the level to which they made Eloise act like she doesn't care is so insane and is clearly just to prop Pen up.

Eloise heard Cressida tell her about her circumstances so she should understand why she's doing what she's doing.

It just felt like such an insane 180 for Eloise to turn around and suddenly be like "Cressida is a viper" and "our friendship was falling apart anyway" and "I should never have trusted her," when the last thing we saw before part 2 was them BEING GOOD FRIENDS!! And when Cressida hadn't done anything bad, she just claimed to be LW RIGHT AFTER she had explained to Eloise how messed up her circumstances were and that she needed help getting out of them.

I get that the show was going to put Eloise and Pen back together because they have such a clear bias towards her character, but did they have to decimate Creloise in the process? Is Eloise not allowed to have multiple friendships?

Like, Pen can do all these terrible things and cry and be like "sorry about that" and it's fine El and her can be besties everyone will love her and forgive her. But Cressida was sometimes mean (and the show goes to lengths to show us how she became that way, even explicitly spelling it out with her mother's comments about how she raised her to believe in "every woman for herself" AND shows Cressida acknowledging her mistakes and showing true change and growth) and lies about being LW and she's dragged through the dirt, she's "the absolute worst," every single character says awful things about her while we see snippets of her in this dark awful house with her life falling apart and this is supposed to be something we root for?? Literally why. Why even make Cressida sympathetic if this is what you're going to do with her.

It feels so out of pocket for Eloise to be saying Cressida is soo horrible and etc. etc. when we SAW their friendship before. We saw Cressida taking in what Eloise was saying and making changes, we saw Cressida challenging Eloise's beliefs and making Eloise self-reflect. Eloise got a peek into how awful Cressida's home life was and into the kind of good person Cressida could be and that's just suddenly thrown out the window with such little support to back it up.

Even if Creloise just HAD to stop being friends, weren't there better ways of going about it? Couldn't they at least have waited till after the fake LW paper came out bashing the Bridgertons for Eloise to break off the friendship? Yes, that was Cressida's mom writing that, but Eloise wouldn't know that and that would more logically line up with Eloise's random coldness towards her.

Still, why exactly do they have to stop being friends? Why can't Eloise have different kinds of friendships, especially one like hers with Cressida that challenged her, one where they mutually helped each other become better people? I love that Eloise is going to go off on this adventure to Scotland and meet other people but could she not also have retained her friendship with Cressida??

I would have loved to see the Eloise I know and love in part 2 teaming up with Cressida to help her, scheming together, doing everything in her power to help her bestie because that's who she is. That's what we should have seen. Maybe it would take her a second to get there, since she was already wrapped up in the drama with her brother and Pen, but she wouldn't just completely brush off her friend. She would do something.

And I could go on about how messed up it was for the writers to make it pretty clear how bad things have become for Cressida and then make her face the most consequences ever, while Pen gets to ride off into the sunset all happily ever after despite doing things 1000x worse than anything Cressida ever did. I'm actually disgusted.

[slayfics]

Hey!! I love your writing style and how Canon the characters are! So I was wondering if you could make something similar to "muchiro uses your attraction to him against you in training" but with inosuke?<33

Inosuke uses your attraction for him against you in training.

Warnings: NSFW themes | Inosuke aged up

A breeze gently passed by causing the birds to chirp, and butterflies you were eyeing to spread their wings. It was nice to sit down and enjoy the slowness of the moment for a bit. However, the tranquil scene was quickly disrupted by a booming voice that caused the birds to scatter and the butterflies to flutter away.

"HEY, YOU! FIGHT ME!" The voice yelled. You didn't need to turn around to know who was challenging you.

"Hello, to you too Inosuke," You said playfully.

"COME ON YOU ARE JUST SITTING THERE! LET'S TRAIN!" He proposed. As much as you wanted to continue relaxing, a tug in your chest encouraged you to seize the opportunity to spend more time with the hot-headed demon slayer. Even if it was just training. After all, that seemed to be the only thing Inosuke ever wanted to do other than eat.

Two more demon slayers joined behind Inosuke. "Inosuke can't you see they are trying to relax," Tanjiro interjected.

"Yeah we just got done training too aren't you tired?" Zenitsu asked.

"NO! I'm not weak like you!" Inosuke said, placing his hands on his sides and puffing out his chest.

You laughed at the demon slayer's cockiness "It's fine we can fight, but if I win you have to sit here with me and watch the birds." You proposed.

"SURE WHATEVER. As if I'd lose to you anyway." He said with what you imagined was a wide grin under his mask.

You stood up to face the demon slayer and he wasted no time coming at you with full force. You quickly dodged to the side moving out of the way of Inosuke's attack causing only his shoulder to brush against you. The brief brush up against the demon slayer caused your heart to flutter.

It was just a moment but Inosuke's quick instincts caught on to the change that happened when he made contact with you. Your breathing changed, cheeks reddened, and movements slowed just the slightest. He understood he could use this to his advantage.

You spun around ready to block his next attack but an attack didn't come. Instead of an attack, Insouke dropped his swords, ran toward you, and reached out to grab both of your breasts.

Your eyes shot wide open and your heart stopped. A squeak escaped your lips as a bright blush ignited on your face. Did Inosuke really just cop a feel??

"INOSUKE!" Tanjiro yelled at the demon slayer furiously.

Insouke took advantage of your paralysis and quickly pinned you to the floor and straddled you.

"HAHAHA! I TOLD YOU I WOULDN'T LOSE!" He said, bouncing on top of you.

"INOSUKE STOP!" Tanjiro yelled and began to run over with Zenitsu.

Inosuke continued to laugh basking in his victory. Meanwhile, you were seeing stars as the situation was too much for you to handle. Embarrassed, you struggled to get your hands free from under Inosuke desperate to cover your flustered face.

Tanjiro and Zenitsu pulled at the feral demon slayer to try and release him but he took it as a challenge and fought back even harder.

Mphf~ 

Finally, your hands broke free and you swiftly covered your face as the struggle between the three boys was now causing Inosuke to further bounce and push against you.

"It's fine Tanjiro~" You mumbled desperately to stop the interaction before you lost all self-control.

"YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT YOU KNOW THAT!" Zenitsu yelled while grabbing Inosuke's mask from his head and running away. Another squeak escaped your lips at the sight of the demon slayer's face. It was no secret to anyone how attractive Inosuke was under his mask.

Finally, Inosuke got up off of you, only to chase down Zenitsu for his mask.

"I apologize for Inosuke, are you alright?" Tanjiro said, looking down at you. It was then he noticed how flustered you were from the whole event "Oh.. hum..." He said whistling and looking away to give you privacy.

"I am more than alright~" You replied in a daze, still lying down needing a moment to catch your breath.

Thank you for the request! I haven’t written for Inosuke in a long time but I immediately saw this scene unfold when I read your request and knew I had to make it a reality. I’m sorry if this isn’t as steamy as you would have liked, but I hope you enjoy it none the less.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hello, I wanted to ask you for a smut of Ethan Landry, that the reader discovers that he is a ghostface when they are about to fuck but she does not care and they do it anyway.

I have not posted for Scream in a while, my apologies

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Tara called you about the attack at the bodega, you felt a thrill of excitement.

You had seen pictures of past Ghostfaces online and some of them made you want to welcome them with open legs. Sam’s father was a total hottie when he committed the first murders in 1996. There was something about a man with a knife that made your panties dampen.

‘’Are you and Sam okay?’’

‘’Yeah. It was…brutal. And terrifying,’’ Tara said on the other side of the line, her voice still shaky. ‘’I’ve just gotten a normal life back, I don’t want to go through this again. And Sam—’’

A knock on your door stirred you from your phone call. ‘’Sorry, Tara. Eh, there’s someone at the door.’’ You glanced at the door and felt your heart race in your chest. ‘’I’m not expecting anyone though…’’

Tara’s breathing changed, getting traumatic flashes of her first attack. ‘’Don’t open! That’s how I was attacked last year.’’

The chances that she was right were slim, but not impossible. Since you were close friends with Tara, it made you part of the friend group…therefore a possible target. Ghostface could very well be standing on the other side.

You bit your tongue and held back from asking ‘who’s there?’, knowing it was a free ticket to your death. Instead, you check through the peep-hole.

‘’It’s Ethan,’’ you reassured Tara, seeing a curly haired awkward boy instead of the classic halloween mask. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow before class, okay?’’

You hung up and unlocked your door, letting Ethan in.

‘’What are you doing here? I thought you had a late class tonight,’’ you said, drawing your eyebrows together. ‘’And why are you dressed like you’re going to a funeral?’’ You nodded your head at his unusual all black outfit.

‘’It finished twenty minutes ago.’’ Ethan slung off his backpack and put it down on the floor. It looked very full, how many books did he carry in there? ‘’My class. Not the funeral,’’ he felt the need to precise.

You chuckled, the soft sound echoing in the small apartment.

‘’I can’t stay long, I have an early class in the morning.’’

‘’Are we still having lunch together?’’

Ethan hummed and a rosy blush covered his cheeks as his eyes fell on your nightgown. He had spent the night over a few times, but very little clothes had been worn to bed. This satin number? He had never seen it before. Your breasts were free underneath and falling perfectly and your nipples were slightly poking through the thin fabric. It made his cock instantly swell.

‘’You sleep in that?’’ he asked, pointing at your nightgown.

‘’Yes, I sleep in that.’’

‘’Isn’t it a little dressed up for sleeping?’’

You rolled your eyes at his ‘men’ comment. ‘’Wearing nice pajamas is part of self-care.’’

‘’You wear that every night?’’ You nodded and Ethan fought a whine, jealously beaming at your bed attire. ‘’And the only pictures you send me are your face?’’

‘’If you want ‘goodnight’ nudes, you’re gonna have to earn them,’’ you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking an eyebrow. ‘’What’s your deal, Landry? I’m listening.’’

After a few propositions, you decided that getting railed into your mattress was a good enough deal...for one picture. Ethan’s dick was good, but you weren’t a fool. If he wants more nudes, he’ll have to offer more.

You tilted your head to the side as he kissed and nipped at your neck. No matter how many times you’ve been naked with him, it still shocked you how desperate Ethan was for you and your body. His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, right below the hem of your nightgown. A part of him wanted to tear it off your body, but the other wanted to fuck you with it on. 

You left him to his dilemma and reached for the back of his shirt, trying to yank it off, but Ethan hissed in pain when he lifted his shoulder. He tried to cover it with a cough, but you had already seen the bruise the size of a grapefruit on your boyfriend’s side.

Sitting up and pausing your activities, you looked at him in concern. ‘’How did that happen?’’ You ghosted your finger over the purple-y red skin. 

Did he get into a fight? Did he get jumped after a late class? Campus is not safe at night, which is why you always carry something to defend yourself. But Ethan's not small or weak, the muscles underneath his polos can fight back.

‘’I…’’ Ethan drew his eyebrows, trying to come up with an explanation. ‘’It's nothing. I got hurt doing something stupid at the gym with Chad.’’

Last week? His explanation not making sense. The timeline didn’t add up. 

‘’You didn't have it three days ago when we rudely got interrupted in your dorm.’’

‘’I did,’’ he insisted. ‘’You…you must not have noticed it.’’ 

‘’But it’s so dark. It looks recent.’’ 

Ethan moved so the bruise was out of your sight, then sighed. ‘’Can we go back to kissing? I don't want to talk about this.’’ 

Instead of calming your worries, his words flared them up. ‘’Did someone do this to you? Oh my god, did he attack you too?’’

 ‘’No. It's not Ghostface. I wasn't at the bodega.’’ He took your hands in his to reassure you, but there was a flaw in his statement. 

‘’What do you know about the bodega?’’ you asked cautiously, remembering Mindy's words to be cautious about the love interest. 

His backpack was in the living room. If you went and checked its content, would you find a black robe and a mask, or just books?

‘’Sam and Tara got attacked tonight after leaving the police office, right? You told me while I was in class.’’

You shook your head, slipping your hand from his. You never mentioned the bodega to Ethan.

‘’I did not. I was on the phone with Tara when you arrived here. She was telling me what happened.’’

Ethan's heart raced, realizing he had spoken too much. Panic surged through his veins, urging him to flee, to hide, to deny any involvement, but he knew deep down that it was futile. You knew. 

‘’Was...was it you at the bodega? Did you attack Sam and Tara?’’ 

Your questions were simple, but terrifying from Ethan's shoes. He had been caught, unmasked. There was no escaping the haunting truth. His world would never be the same again. You would never see him the same.

He grabbed his shirt, about to leave, but you pulled him back by his belt and looked up at him with pleading eyes. ‘’Please fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889

[bobbin-buckley]

Cairo Sweet NSFW ALPHABET

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (everything is mentioned but not happening) Smut, Cairo being controlling, mentions of writing porn, masturbating, bondage, degradation, praise, lesbian smut basically, lots of praising, and a lot of other things…

(I can also do a SFW if wanted)

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

A: Aftercare (What they are like after sex)

Cairo can play rough, but she can also play soft. She never tries to hurt you during sex, she just wants to be dominant. Other times she’ll be submissive but then becomes a power bottom basically.

Anyways, during aftercare she likes to make sure your taken care of first. She’ll get you water, massage any sore areas, maybe even give you a bath. It just depends. She also loves receiving it. There will be times she is the star and it being pleased, so she’ll want nice aftercare. After Winnie telling her what it’s like, and how she fantasies it. Cairo has begun to like it as well. Overall Cairo is soft when it comes to aftercare, probably the only time you’ll see her being a softie.

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of themselves and their partner's)

Cairos favorite body part on you is your legs. She loves how smooth they are, how your thighs trap her head as she eats you out, or even how she holds them up when fucking you with the strap. (Not that she always uses the strap).

Her favorite body part on herself is her hands. She’s so confident about them. She knows you love her hands so much. They way she caresses your skin with her finger tips, how they grip your neck, even when knuckle deep. She’s often told she has hot hands, by you and Winnie. She doesn’t really understand that but goes with it anyways because her hands turn you on.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Cairo loves cum. Not surprising huh? But she loves it when it’s messy. She may not seem like the messy type, but when it’s with cum. Oh boy it’s all over.

She loves to cum on your face. Whenever she gives and you finish, her fingers will have be drenched with your cum and she’ll force her fingers into your mouth. Telling you to lick them clean. She’ll praise you about how much you cum or how you take her cum.

“That’s it baby, cum for me. Cum all over my fingers. So much cum.”

“Suck my fingers clean, there you go.”

“Oh fuck..yeah..lick all that up, such a good girl.”

D: Dirty Secret (just self explanatory, their dirty secret)

Cairo’s biggest dirty secret is. She wants to have a threesome with you and Winnie. Though will she never ever let it happen. Because she is possessive of you, even if it’s just her best friend who’s the most dirtiest person of all. She’d fantasize it but hate for it to happen. She’s just so possessive of you she wouldn’t even let anyone touch you.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Cairo knows what she’s doing. I mean hey, she writes porn. So she’s gotta have knowledge, and reads smut books. She’s read more of the “straight” smut books you could say. But when she got more interested into dating a girl (you) she wanted to learn. She got those lesbian smut books off like Esty and read them all.

So yes, I’d say she knows what she’s doing. And maybe even you gave her some tips. She’ll watch you carefully as you please her, observing you and trying to understand how to please a girl. Winnie even gave her tips. And when Cairo gave for the first time, she started thinking of what would please you and go from there. Trying new things if you were comfortable.

F: Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

She has a thing for both 69 and queening. She loves oral sex for sure. Wether giving or receiving. When receiving queening she loves to sit on your face all the way just to make it challenging for you.

She’ll try any other position she finds online or a suggestion given (mostly by you and Winnie. Winnie is her Google assistant).

G: Goofy (Are they serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc)

Cairo doesn’t really like humor in sex. Just because she’s so focused and serious she doesn’t have time for humor. If you like fall or something or make a stupid joke she’ll laugh. But if she’s on top, oh that’s a different story.

This girl doesn’t care for any humor when on top. She is so focused on pleasuring you. No disruptions.

H: Hair (How well are they groomed? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

She always shaves. Every time you have sex or she’s naked you always notice how well groomed or trimmed she is. She’s serious about it too.

She doesn’t mind how you shave but at least don’t look like Bigfoot. She’ll help you if wanted, if you give her a reward after. 😉

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romance aspect?)

She’s definitely romantic during it. When she gives, she doesn’t exactly ask you if you want rough or slow. It depends on her mood really. And you don’t mind either way. She loves to be praised, she’ll praise you as well she just is so into it she forgets to talk. And boy does she know you love her dirty talk, she knows you love her accent so much.

She will kiss you all over, every inch of your body. Once she’s pleased she’ll peck your lips and get right to the main course.

J: Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

She never really masturbates now that she has you. She used to a little bit. Before she met you, she only did it once just to get inspiration for her writing. When she met you and couldn’t stop obsessing over you, she did it a few times but never pushed herself enough to orgasm.

So she doesn’t do it unless you’re away and she misses you.

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Oh boy. She’s got a lot up her sleeve. Most of them she hides. Her biggest one is punishment. Whenever you disobey, or even make her mad. She’ll take her anger out on you and punish you till she’s pleased.

“You’ve been such a bad girl. Think it’s time for my toy to learn some manners..”

She also does degrading. She doesn’t hesitate to humiliate you. (Only if you’re comfortable). But when she’s mad she’ll definitely do it as a punishment.

“Such a fucking slut. How would your parents react to hearing how much of a slut their daughter is? I bet they’d be so disappointed.”

Edging is one she enjoys. She just loves edging you, even denying you sometimes. She won’t cause any pain though. (Unless you want to). Maybe some spanking but it’s gentle. (She has a soft spot for you)

“No. Only good girls get to cum, have you been a good girl for me? Maybe a little spankin’ will help.”

L: Location (Favorite locations to do it)

She has a few. Preferably her bedroom. She loves to take you on her bed. Making sure your comfortable too, plenty of blankets and pillows on her massive bed. She may even do it on the bedroom floor if she feels like it.

“Gonna fuck you into my sheets. Make you cum all over them.”

Cairo will even take you in the living room. She loves doing it there too. When her parents are gone, it’s midnight (specifically raining out too), the fire-pit is lit, and your on the couch doing it.

“Shhh, that’s it. Such a perfect night to take my good girl on. Scream for me baby, wanna hear you cry out my name in the moonlight.”

Maybe even her garden. Over by the landscape area. Her place is private anyway. (The part where she calls Miller is where I’m trying to pov). She even bent you over that table and took you

(She even considered alone in Mr. Millers office-)

“Oh yeah? Risky huh? Fucking you with my fingers out in my landscape? Anyone could be peering over and see how well you take me.”

M: Motivation (What turns them on? Gets them going?)

Whenever you beg her. When she’s not in the mood, if you beg her enough or send her a nude pic she’s all in. (Pun intended).

Or even if you just exist and she’s in the mood. If you do like your hobby she’s turned on. Especially if it’s writing or art. Sometimes she’ll have you read one of her books and it turns her on

N: No (Something they won’t do, turns them off)

Non-consensual. She hates it. She wants to give consent even if she seems controlling and demanding all the time.

She also hates it when you disobey her. Not that it’s a complete turn off she just prefers for you to listen when she demands it. She also hates being totally controlled by you when she’s receiving, she likes to guide you.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

She loves oral. She loves it both ways. You tend to tease her on how much she loves eating you out. Claims it’s her snack through out the day, or even at night. And she’s pretty good at it, she learned more and more as she did it.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Either. She loves either but it also depends on her mood. Especially when she’s top. Sometimes she’ll start slow then gradually speed up. When receiving she doesn’t mind what pace you go, sometimes she’ll request it. She’ll definitely give if you ask.

If you disobey her and give make her mad, oh lord she’s rough and won’t play nice

Q: Quickies (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc)

She doesn’t mind quickies. But since she lives basically alone most of the time, there’s no need for it and can go on for hours. Sometimes maybe in the shower, but it’s rare. She just wants to shower with you so she doesn’t waste any water

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc)

Cairo loves to experiment. She wants to know what you are into and what you like. And she likes taking risks. Like having sex in public is a big one.

One time she took you to a public library and fucked you behind a bookshelf. That was probably the fastest sex you’ve ever had.

“Shush, sweetheart. Gotta stay quiet for me.”

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long can they last? Etc)

It depends on her mood. If she’s top, getting rough or if mad. It’ll be up to eight rounds. If it’s her receiving it may only be four because she gets tired easily.

It can be a totally different story with how long she can last between rounds. Some she can last ten or so minutes within a round, because you like to be soft with her. But when angry and pissed with you, she can make you cum in five minutes

T: Toys (Do they own any toys? Do they use them? On themselves or their partner?)

Cairo has a few. Maybe about three. She prefers to use them on you rather than herself. Like she loves to use the vibrator on you, it’s her favorite way of teasing you. She’ll use it to edge you and you hate it. She also has some bondage stuff that she’ll use if you’re comfortable with. Cairo also owns a strap and enjoys using it on you.

(If you can convince her enough she might let you fuck her with the strap)

“You don’t like this? That’s too bad, guess I’ll have to deny you again.”

“So desperate huh? You wanna take my cock so bad huh? Just beg for it.”

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Cairo LOVES I mean LOVES to tease you. It’s her favorite thing to do. She’ll tease you through out it all even when your are giving. She’ll even tease in you public. Wether it’s physically or verbally.

Physically she’ll brush her fingers against your thigh when walking by, squeeze your ass, maybe even put her hand on your covered womanhood when you sit next to each other. Verbally she’ll whisper something dirty in your ear, or even moan softly just to turn you on.

“What would you do if I fucked you senseless in front of your dad?” “Cairo!”

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc)

Cairo is decently loud. Her moans can be pretty vocal. When being received she likes to moan loudly to make you hot and bothered, or even whimper into your ear. When giving she’s just groaning a bit at how hot you are beneath her. Some grunts and whimpers against your ear.

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon for them)

She’ll have sex with you and even write it in her story if it’s, what she calls “juicy” enough. She’ll even make you read her stories aloud as she takes you from behind.

(She actually fucked you on Millers desk)

X: X-ray (Let’s see what’s under those clothes)

A nice toned stomach, you love to grab onto it as she rails you with the strap. Her breasts are average, you love to stuff your face in them. Naked or not. She’s very well shaved and has tons of freckles that kiss her nice tan skin. You just love her body so much.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

She can get pretty desperate. After having a few sessions with you she started getting addicted. But you told her at times no when it became an addiction. So at this point it’s high but she’s relaxed most of the time. She won’t get that mad at you if you don’t sometimes.

Z: Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwords)

She lets you rest first before she falls asleep. She’ll make sure you’re okay even if you gave because she’s such a softie for you

<3

~~~~~~~~~~

It like reset me earlier so I lost progress. So I quit but then came back to it 😭

Hopefully it’s good and I’m willing to do other headcanons!

[petite-phthora]

They don't even have dental

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 15]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Private chat nicknames:

RedHood = Jason

Danny = Danny

---

Danny and Ellie are both on their way to Danny’s apartment. Both flying invisibly while in ghost form with Danny holding onto Ellie’s hand to lead the way to his apartment without losing her.

As they’re flying, the silence gets broken by Ellie. She smacks her lips a few times and lets out a thoughtful hum.

“Mmmm… it’s spicy”

��What? What’s spicy?”

“Red Hood”

“Red Hood?”

“Yeah, his blood. It’s got some twang to it… not too bad to be fair, could use some more kick though” Ellie says with a shrug.

At this point, they’ve reached Danny’s apartment. They enter through the wall, both becoming visible and transforming back, landing on the floor.

Danny levels Ellie with an eyebrow raise he learned from Jazz, though hers is still better.

“Right…” He shakes his head, deciding not to ask. He asks her another couple of questions instead.

“So, care to tell me what you’re doing here in Gotham chewing on the local vigilantes? You know to only bite people in self-defense, when they’re assholes, or with consent, so what made you bite Red Hood?

“What are you even doing in Gotham for that matter? I thought the plan was to stay in Mexico for another week before moving onto Peru?”

He looks at her, eyebrow still raised and arms crossed. The look on his face is neither mad nor annoyed, just curious.

“Would you believe me if I told you I just came to give a surprise visit to my darling involuntary DNA donor?” She asks, putting her hands together in a pleading gesture and batting her eyes with a pout.

“… Well, not if you say it like that…” Danny says with a slight frown.

Ellie pouts before shrugging. “Worth a shot.”

She looks at Danny, seeing he’s still leveling her with a look, and lets out a long dramatic sigh. While sighing, she slinks down onto the floor dramatically.

“Fineeeeee” She draws out, lying flat on the floor.

“But, if you’d had a wider vocabulary you’d know I already told you about what I’m doing here!” She says in an accusatory tone, finger pointing at Danny for good measure.

She then crosses her arms and closes her eyes.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t understand me.”

Danny uncrosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

“Not everyone has followed Clockworks ‘Cryptic messaging 101’ course.” He says.

“They should, it was really informative.”

Ellie sits upright with another sigh.

“All I’m doing is testing if he’s good enough for you.” She says.

“If who is good enough for me?”

“If that vigilante boyfriend of yours deserves to date my mold. “ She pauses. “My stencil? Framework? Blueprint?” Ellie trails off, finger on her chin.

“Just call me brother, that’s easier” Danny cuts in.

Ellie waves him off, unconcerned.

“Anyway, he needs to prove himself, his worth, and for that, I’m setting up multiple challenges. If he succeeds them all, he’s got my blessings and is free to date you, if both of you so wish.

“But if he fails…” Ellie trails off. She puts her hands together, a feral grin on her face.

Danny doesn’t bat an eye.

“So what, you came back from Mexico earlier than planned to haze the guy I’m dating?”

“Mhmm!” Ellie nods enthusiastically in response, the feral look from before gone as if it was never there.

“And biting him was just another one of these challenges?” He continues.

“Yup! He passed, by the way, flying colors” Ellie says.

“Do I get to know what exactly you scored him on and what you were testing him for at that moment?”

“Do you want to know?”

Danny pauses.

“You know what… Nah, I’m good.”

Ellie nods along, “A wise decision.”

“Well, since your plans were kinda last-minute, do you need a place to stay?” Danny asks.

“I don’t really have a guest bedroom, apartments too small for that, but the couch is very comfy. 8/10 sleeping spot. Some points get docked ‘cause it still smells like the marinara sauce I spilled on there when I first moved in.” He shrugs.

Ellie shakes her head in response. She stands up, dusting off her pants as she does so, as she replies.

“Nah, no need to worry about me. I’ve got it handled, already found a place to crash for the foreseeable future.” She pauses.

“Though I will raid your ice cream stash. As payment.” Ellie says as she turns around and moves towards Danny’s kitchen where she immediately starts rooting through his freezer.

“Payment? For what? Being a feral little shit and biting my boy— I mean my uh, partner-friend?” Danny asks, not really making any move to stop her from taking his food.

Ellie pretends to not have noticed the slip-up.

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “Payment for being an awesome Fright Knight for His Majesty,” She says, giving him a mocking bow while clutching a tub of ice cream to her chest with one arm.

Danny rolls his eyes right back at her.

“I’m not even king yet.” He denies “Just the Crown Prince. Still have to wait till I’m an elder in ghost years before they can force me on the throne, luckily.”

He then raises an eyebrow at her again.

“And I’m pretty sure the position of Fright Knight is not a paid position”

Ellie gasps dramatically.

“Are you saying you don’t pay your workers, My Liege? Blasphemy!” She sticks the spoon she grabbed from his drawer in the air, still clutching the ice cream tub with her other arm.

“Next you’re gonna tell me we don’t have dental” She scoffs.

Danny thinks for a second.

“Well, uh…”

This elicits another dramatic gasp from Ellie.

“No! I can’t believe it! My very own template, a tyrant! The very thing he destroyed to get where he currently is in the first place” She pretends to almost faint, swaying for a few steps with the hand that’s holding the spoon dramatically on her forehead.

She closes her eyes with a fake sorrowful expression on her face.

“Well, you know what they say. You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.”

She sadly shakes her head.

 “Wait till I tell Sam about your authoritarian leadership,” She says, looking at Danny with narrowed eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you used the word authoritarian wrong, but I don’t know enough about English to dispute you” Danny shrugs.

Ellie sticks out her tongue at him. Danny just rolls his eyes.

“Just take the ice cream as payment then, Fright Ellie? Ellie Knight?” Danny pauses.

“It’s Sir Ellie the Frightful or Sir Ellie of the Infinite Realms,” Ellie says helpfully.

“Right.” Danny nods along. “And I’ll ask Clockwork and Frostbite about the dental stuff, alright?”

Ellie cheers and starts floating. She begins stuffing her face with the ice cream. In between bites, she speaks up again.

“If I don’t hear back about dental within a month, I’m gonna assume you’ve gone full-on tyrant and I’ll start a revolution to dethrone you.” She says with a self-assured nod.

“Not like you’ll have to do a lot of effort for your recruiting, most of them already like you more than me anyway,” Danny replies.

Ellie cackles, by now floating upside down with the ice cream. Once she’s done she speaks up again.

“Hah! Heh… Well, anyway, I’ve got some challenges to prepare. See ya, Mr. Polar Bear!”

Danny’s cheeks flush a little.

“You were there?!”

All he gets in response is another round of cackles as Ellie flies full-speed through the wall of his apartment with the ice cream and spoon, turning invisible once outside.

---

It’s the next day when Danny unlocks his phone to a message from the private chat group with Red Hood.

---

Private chat

~ RedHood changed the name of Danny to Kangaroo ~

RedHood: There, that’s better.

Kangaroo: hey!! 😲

Kangaroo: I’m not the kangaroo here 😠😠

Kangaroo: like, I was the one who said it!!!

Kangaroo: I said it to you 🫵

Kangaroo: so you’re the kangaroo here 😤

Kangaroo: if anything, I’m the polar bear 😌

Kangaroo: cause of like

Kangaroo: y’know

Kangaroo: yesterday? 🙃

Kangaroo: y’know seeing you reading my messages without replying is kinda nerve racking 😅😓

Kangaroo: not gonna lie

Kangaroo: Red Hood?... 😟

~ RedHood changed the name of Kangaroo to PolarBear ~

~ RedHood changed their name to Kangaroo ~

Kangaroo: This better, Mister ‘I’m the polar bear’?

---

Danny smiles down at his phone for a second before replying. His cheeks are slightly pink.

He really likes Hood…

---

PolarBear: perfect 😊

Kangaroo: Good.

Kangaroo: Now, I actually messaged you because I wanted to discuss the next date :)

Kangaroo: If you’d still like to go.

PolarBear: yes!

PolarBear: of course I still want to go 😊

PolarBear: does this Saturday afternoon work for you?

Kangaroo: Yep, that works.

PolarBear: great!

PolarBear: but!! ☝️

PolarBear: this time I get to plan the date 😤😌

PolarBear: like, the second part of the date

PolarBear: after tp-ing that manor 😁😇

PolarBear: cause you planned the last date

PolarBear: so I wanna plan this one 🙃

PolarBear: if that’s cool with you too?

Kangaroo: That’s fine by me, Love :)

Kangaroo: How about I pick you up around 3pm this Saturday, I’ll bring us to Wayne Manor, and then for the second part of the date I’ll drive us there with you giving me directions.

PolarBear: sounds good to me!

Kangaroo: Great, see you then :)

PolarBear: see ya! 👋

PolarBear: oh!!

PolarBear: also

PolarBear: feel like I should warn you that you might be seeing Ellie some more in the near future 😅

PolarBear: apparently she’s trying to see if you’re gonna ‘treat me right’ and all that 🤔 🤔

PolarBear: and so she has some challenges or something prepared to make you prove your worth???

PolarBear: the biting thing was a part of that apparently 🤷

PolarBear: but you passed that challenge with flying colors btw 😊👍

PolarBear: anyway

PolarBear: good luck! and I’ll see you on Saturday 👋🙃

---

Danny turned off his phone with a smile.

Now, let’s plan that date.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm

[anticidic]

Got Fyozai on the mind, so obviously time to yap about them.

I can't really get behind the whole Fyodor and Dazai hate each other, because I don't see anything resembling actual hate between them. The situation between them is more business-like: Fyodor's bad, Dazai doesn't agree with his views on humanity, and they inevitably become thorns in each other's sides because of the obvious conflict of interest. Dazai's out to stop Fyodor's plans, and because he's an obstacle, Fyodor needs to remove him. There's nothing emotionally charged going on.

I think, if anything, Dazai, at one point in his life, came dangerously close to adapting an outlook of the world similar to Fyodor's, but that changed because of various people in his life, notably Oda. Oda told Dazai to be on the side that saved people, and in a roundabout way, Oda saved Dazai from himself before he fell too deep into a void he wouldn't come out of.

That's how I see current Fyodor: he didn't have people like that in his life to either challenge his look on humanity, or maybe even people justified Fyodor's extreme beliefs and he's who we have today. I've said it before, but yeah, I see them more as foils of one another.

Other people refer to them as monsters, or Fyodor is likened/compared to Dazai, but when they interact, Dazai will call Fyodor a demon, but Fyodor never refers to him in a similar fashion. Fyodor speaks in a more casual manner toward Dazai like how you would address an old friend, which could also suggest how he sees Dazai as similar to him instead of reducing him to a sinning ability user in need of salvation.

Fyodor is who Dazai could've been. Not in the literal sense, but in a fell from grace, and no one can reach him anymore way.

And I think the LACK of hate between them speaks greater volumes than anything that might be implied. As far as we know, Dazai's one of the closest to understanding Fyodor on an intellectual level, and all that really separates them are their views of the world and humanity.

Dazai and Fyodor have known each other a long time; Fyodor's been mentioned in The Day I Picked Up Dazai—and I'd love a light novel of their actual first meeting—BUT ANYWAY. They were more like two peas in a pod back then when Dazai was just twiddling his thumbs and seeking purpose and something greater to life while in the mafia, and I feel like he was blind at the time to realizing how similar their beliefs were at that time because it became an echo chamber. Then after Oda and defecting, Dazai can actually take a step back to realize and understand that his younger self had once been a part of what Fyodor was and is.

Which leads me to the events in Meursault when Fyodor believed that Dazai and Chuuya's partnership was fickle and the 7 years was worthless because Fyodor was judging Dazai based on his old Port Mafia self and believing he knew Dazai too well at that point. Fyodor hasn't changed since they met because he doesn't trust others, but Dazai's changed and it manages to fool Fyodor.

Fyodor's doing bad things and Dazai's done bad things, don't get me wrong, but I feel like over time as Dazai established himself with the ADA and slowly learned to change his look on life as he surrounded himself with better people in a better environment that didn't simply see him as a tool for a greater, sinister cause, he probably understands on an intellectual level what would drive a man like Fyodor to these lengths. Naturally, Dazai doesn't agree, and that's why they're enemies trying to get each other out of the way, but I sense that unspoken sort of, 'I understand, terribly.', because it's like looking in the mirror to see what could have been. Dazai considers having his ability a curse, and Fyodor's motivated by his own experiences and the curse of his own ability to do what he's doing.

Removing them from the canon world, they manage to get along in Gakuen and get up to silly nonsense in Wan!, so when placed back into the original world, I see, personally, how it becomes more obvious where the line is drawn between them and the point they become enemies. Dazai would rather remove himself from the world, whereas Fyodor believes he's solving a worldwide crisis by removing all ability users.

And now by standing up against Fyodor, Dazai's challenging dangerous beliefs his old self once had which could've continued down a dark path. Like quite literally fighting against a demon, as Dazai has referred to Fyodor, but more like his own inner demons.

[luminecent-sky]

I wanna hear your sahsr infodumping, lay it on me

I decided to use text to speech just so i didn't have to keep speaking to myself to remember the points i wanted to make tbh, olease don't mind the grammar screw ups, I'm very tired...

OK? How do I speak about him?Just this is about sunday ok, him in a self aware au He believes in anna like the order right if and he believes their grand plan right, well if he was you know faced with the concept of fate itself. I feel he would like have a little crisis. Like this is a man who's entire ideology parallels christian like beliefs. We see this in How he acts, how he was raised

If he was made aware of the player it would send him down onto a spiral. I think because if this is in my Aeon of fate AU. He would also believe in fate as like an ally of the order or he would think that if Ena, didn't get subsumed by the harmony that the order would have been subsumed by fate instead.

He would also think is that his plan is going all accordingly to the Weaver's strings, Is his plan had succeeded?It puts him in his mind. Then this is the will of order and fate.

And that's before he gets taken by Elio and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters, if we're talking after he fails then after all that... He'd be a little bit hesitant to follow with plans at first but that's only at first, becausehe would see that whole fight as him going against the will of fate, trying to break from the cosmic strings of the Paracae's tapestry. And he wpuld belive that becoming a stellaron hunter and not being able to interact with his sister ever again, losing it all is his punishment, Because if there's one thing Christians can do, it's to believe in a nebulous concept, like y'know, fate and it's punishment. It's just that Aeons are real now, so it does help,

That's just if he doesn't know this is a game if he does, he's a little bit more bitter, Because from the start he was supposed to fail. That no matter what he tried, he was never going to succeed with it. Especially if the player is the type to start light talking in the middle of the fight which I did. And the I got into- I got into a one sided (for me) argument with him, during the scene where he talks about the past, present and future, I was refusing his points in like actively getting frustrated at him, retailing genesis towards me like I didn't go to christians school, I was, I was literally being like. ‘Don't even explain Genesis to me. I had to read it for Bible study’, but aside from that I feel like if the player were to match his eye ideology and provide a counter-argument. He'd be all for it. Because he's basically a homeschooled Christian kid and like challenging the ingrained beliefs in homeschooled christian kids is like a different kind of fight, turst me i would know.

Yeah, but anyways, I fight his fight.I fight his boss fight at least thrice a week, after my weekly fights are done, just to like vent out my frustration, amd to listen to his battle lines.

I don't know how he would feel about the players saving for him.And you know trying to get his E6 S5,

But like the first time I saw him afraid I was like pretty angel character.I'm going to have him, I would sacrifice life, limb, organ and soul for him.

Sorry this just turned into me simping for sunday…

Ok

Going on to Aventurine, he's a different can of worms.

This is a man who has already been blessed by God and is or was holding a piece of godly power before he destroyed it in the fight with Acheron He already thinks life is a gamble, and if his next gamble in believing in us, the player? Well he's gonna come out on top, especially if the player decides to build him right and use him often… and why wouldn't you?

But of course under all that he's just a scared vulnerable guy who is scared of losing it all and failing his family and the people who helped him, he's lost so much and if the player could help him through it… show him his worth and a reason to keep holding on it'd heal a long wounded part of his soul that still calls itself Kakavasha.

Sorry this was so short, my brain focused on sunday and him only.

[bonefall]

While we’re talking changing who appears in places- can we change the cats helping out with Sunbeam’s rock trial? I was so confused why the cats selected to help were selected. Sure Cherryfall because she was going to be the one opposing Sunbeam, why not, anyone can do that though honestly and not who I take issue with being there. But Alderheart was there? The medicine cat? Don’t you think he has better things to be doing than pushing a rock around? Where’s Lionblaze aka “I may as well still have my god given super strength”? He could easily be the cat that gets pissy for Sunbeam “not listening to senior warriors” and maybe with age feels that she doesn’t respect him, head of patrols, enough to warrant her staying this sabotaging her in the third trial. I felt robbed that Plumstone who seemed to be established as another bg strong cat was absent. Sure sending Sunbeam with all the strongest cats would make it easy but it’d also be making it safe considering Ivypool didn’t want the rock to hurt anyone and it’s a pecking rock. Why not send your strongest cats to deal with it?

I feel very strongly about this trial, can you tell?

I'm a bit dissatisfied with certain trials in general. Most of the time I LOVE the new trials they made, I think they've been super creative so far, but some have been so lackluster that I need to shine them up.

Namely Berryheart's active attempts to get challengers killed. Someone has to get ACTUALLY hurt by one of those, instead of them just being generally unfair and no one raises an objection about it. I did not like the spring-powered adder that went BOING out of a log.

I will say that I would like to expand on Plumstone in this arc, plus her whole little family. They're in an interesting place, with Bumblestripe coming back from Ferncloud's Parting while leaving his father with the Tribe, Blossomfall still reeling with emotional abuse she suffered at the paws of the impostor, Stemleaf's death and Spotfur raising his kits, and Shellfur's mateship with Fernstripe.

Plumstone ALSO has some stuff going on. She's besties-maybe-dating Thriftear, Bristlefrost's sister, and yet she's one of the more outspoken cats about how she's getting tired of the ThunderClan nepotism. She's strong, reliable, and a competent warrior-- so HOW is it fair that Nightheart keeps getting all these undeserved "chances to prove himself" when SHE is here, SIGNIFICANTLY more orange, and wants her own chance to shine??

I still see her personality as being "a dear" lmao, she's not mean, but she's also not willing to bite her tongue either. She will say what's on her mind, and point out unfair treatment when she feels it.

Thriftear supports this. Yeah, she's a descendant of Firestar and a great warrior, but she EARNED the respect she gets. Bristlefrost did too. Nightheart doesn't even want his legacy, why is this clumsy humbug still getting special treatment?

Good-cat bad-cat pair type thing going on.

So I'm probably going to let them both act as a unit, since BB's Dewnose isn't in ThunderClan and that was a really random pair-up anyway.

("wait! Elder Bones! Where did Dewnose go?" Probably ShadowClan, here is the BB!ThunderClan family tree. There's been shuffles; the Cloudbright kits are now Whitewing, Foxleap, and Icecloud, 3 "singlet" litters, spaced out over years.)

Quickie thoughts on touching up the trials;

(DISCLAIMER: NOT SOLID. WE DON'T REWORK UNTIL ARCS ARE COMPLETE.)

Berryheart's are going to need serious overhauls. Nightheart's were really cute and I enjoyed them, but BB is supposed to be about how her group is escalating towards violence. I do not want them to stay so "cute" for the story I'm telling.

I also don't want to keep Nightheart failing his last one on purpose. I want his growth to be more based in self-realization than trying to let Sunbeam "save face."

I kinda want Fringewhisker to get injured during one of her own, and then Antfur dies as collateral damage in Nightheart's last. I'd like Nightheart leaving to be half him realizing that his BEHAVIOR is a problem, and half for his own safety.

In ThunderClan, I'd like the boulder one to be more about Sunbeam assembling a team, almost like she's a patrol head.

Since it's her second trial and she displayed some pretty fantastic leadership skills with her first one, I've got an inkling of an idea that Squilf actually talked with Ivy about wanting to legitimately assess her talent.

Like, "We both know that this whole trial-system was just to appease the other Clans. These are meant to be easy because idgaf. But wow, Sunbeam was actually impressive with those kits. What else can she do, if we give her the chance?"

I really like writing Squilf as she's described in Bramblestar's Storm, where her good leadership comes from being attentive of details and making everyone feel useful.

Man... maybe ill save Rosepetal for this arc and let her be deputy during this. Something feels very Rosepetaly about this. Maybe even have Rosepetal be clearly treating her as if she's a Secondary Apprentice, preparing her to take over her reputation of being a prolific mentor... Nightheart comes back from his trip only to find Sunbeam with twice as much respect as status as he ever had.

I can always axe Rose later to get Ivypool in... But I also REALLY love all the Ivypool Deputy Drama with how there's a conflict with ShadowClan... man. why are there so many interesting girls.

Maybe Rose doesn't have to be deputy, but Ivy assigns Rosepetal as the only "mandatory member" of the Boulder Patrol. Like a tutorial tip lmaooo

Sunbeam: "I think I will pick......................" STARES AT ROSEPETAL, "aaalderrr-" Rosepetal frowns "--pluuuuumstone??" Rosepetal nods, "Wise choice."

And lastly. The final Sunbeam trial. Ngl hated it. It felt really boring compared to the previous two, which were super interesting and excellent ways to give some spotlight to background characters.

Riddles don't even feel like a ThunderClan thing. Idk that was a very RiverClan (philosophy) or ShadowClan (trickery) kind of thing.

I think I'll hold off on thinking about it though; I think it would be SUPER cool if I totally overhauled that last trial to make it foreshadow the later books, somehow.

I DO want to keep that disney channel ass Cherryfall being a bitch part though. I love her so much. I'm so glad she's walking in her father's pawsteps and becoming the snot-nosed brat of ThunderClan.

I will definitely be changing how Sunbeam HANDLES it though. Hate the way that the books emphasize never telling anyone anything.

In fact, I kinda want to make Sunbeam approach Sparkpelt for advice, to show she finally has a figure she feels like she can trust.

Explicitly contrast the way that she NEVER felt like she could approach Berryheart, and that so much of her appeasing, avoidant behavior had been because she didn't feel safe or respected.

Here, in ThunderClan, she has family. She begins to realize that even if Nightheart came back and dumped her, Sparkpelt and Finchlight would NEVER kick her to the curb.

So she goes to Sparkpelt about how she is being bullied by Cherryfall, and they TALK ABOUT OPTIONS.

Like, you know,

Spark: "We could go to Squirrelstar or the deputy."

Sun: "I don't want to cause a fuss if I don't have to... besides, idk, I don't want to set the peat on fire, it would be nice if I could be on good terms with Cherryfall later."

Spark: "that's very wise of you, but just remember that Squilst is a very fair person. We can always go to her. Do you want any backup at all or do you want to do this on your own?"

Sun: "I think... I think I actually do need to do this on my own. If I was being confronted, I think I would just double down if I was being attacked in a group. That was right with Brambleclaw because you weren't trying to convince him, but... what do you think?"

Spark: "I think Cherryfall's just like her father and her ego is everything to her, so I think you're right on the mouse with all this. Honestly, I don't even know how much I'm helping here!"

Sun: "Oh but you are helping! You're helping a lot! StarClan... it feels so nice to just... have someone to listen. Thanks, Sparkpelt."

Basically, tweak the trials to bring them more in line with the themes and messages of BB, y'know? And also beef up the Clans themselves, by stressing the various personalities that are at play here. Especially since I quite like how Sunbeam in ThunderClan has some super neat traits she wasn't expressing in ShadowClan.

Like... it feels like it could be a really cool story to tell about how supportive environments can make you really shine. How you can suddenly seem like a brand new person, just by having people who have your back and encourage your autonomy.

[modevernon]

rainy days # chwe vernon

pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: f2l, comfort warnings: cursing, mentions of food word count: 1.25k

ever since autumn fell into your hands like a stale, unwanted gift, vernon had been acting strange. well. ‘strange’ was difficult to define. vernon was, by nature, pretty strange.

rather, he ceased to act in his normal, strange way, and that was what bothered you — where were the out-of-the-blue “fried chicken, my place, shrek” text invites? where had those gone? where were the absurd, vine-reminiscent tiktoks and goofy screenshots of infinite challenge? where were the multitude of beanies strewn across your house? where, and when had he taken them back? where was he?

yes, seasonal depression existed. but he had explicitly told you, as you were munching on a cinnamon roll for breakfast three months ago, that fall was his favorite season. and yes, you two had only started hanging out this year, so it wasn’t as if your friendship had ever been set in stone. but even so, you didn’t deserve to be ghosted, or slowly distanced from until he had erased you from his life.

and yet, you could pinpoint the day, the moment, the very conversation during which his demeanor shifted so precisely that you figured something must have gone wrong then, and maybe it was your fault.

so you ran back the dialogue to the best of your recollection: it had been a rainy saturday, the kind of humidity that simply begged you to stay inside, and vernon had been making cold hot chocolate (“so… chocolate milk?” “no, you don’t see the vision!”) as you drafted emails at your desk.

when he completed his little concoction and entered your room with a mug of it, you were enjoying a self-proclaimed break, perched on the edge of the table, scrolling through instagram.

“bro, you have to see this,” you called to him casually, hearing his footsteps approach.

he did approach — slowly. stopping before you, he placed the mug on the table. “am i your bro now?”

eyes still glued to your phone, you knocked jokingly at his arm. “sorry.”

after a beat, you looked up, as if finally absorbing all of what had been said so far. “wait.” vernon gazed back at you patiently. “you’ve never complained about that.”

he opened his mouth slightly, some unforeseeable sentence at the tip of his tongue, then closed it and glanced away. “yeah, well,” and he took a step back, “never said i was complaining.”

then you had taken a sip from the mug, and said to him that it tasted just like chocolate milk, but lukewarm, and he had laughed softly without a rebuttal, and you had showed him the instagram story you had found funny, and he had laughed again without comment, and half an hour later he had left from your apartment and the rain had kept falling and everything had seemed eerily quiet. the end.

except it wasn’t the end — it couldn’t be the end, when vernon’s pretty little face was all you could think about even as weeks, months passed without his presence.

today, you were feeling especially fed up, inhaling a cinnamon roll from the same café you’d visited with vernon in the heat of summer. it was suspiciously warm for late october, as if the weather was actively forcing you to reminisce, and it stayed warm until the sun slipped down and suddenly it was cruelly, unbearably cold — and rainy. wrapped up in blankets, you stirred your (real) hot chocolate, watched the downpour vandalize your windows, and wondered what to do with your fraught, ambivalent heart.

vernon was surprised to get a call past midnight, and more surprised that he was on his phone at the exact minute to pick up. he swiped right, forgetting to read the contact.

“hello?” he spoke first.

“hey.” vernon could tell by one syllable that it was you. he checked the screen to confirm anyway. you continued, voice inexplicable: “what’ve you been up to?”

first question, and he was already feeling guilty. “work,” he replied, with faux detachment, “kinda tiring.”

“tiring?”

“mm-hmm.”

“busier than usual?” your tone was veering from innocent to interrogative.

“yeah, you could say that.” what excuse could he give that wasn’t the reason?

“you still could’ve kept in touch, you know,” you hit back. quiet on the other end of the line. “i had to watch bottoms without you.”

“oh, that’s a great movie,” vernon blurted, then immediately regretted.

he could almost see your eyes narrow. “so you watched it on your own?”

“… yeah. on my own.”

you let his response hang embarrassingly in silence. after a beat — “do you have anything to tell me, hansol?”

oh. hansol. shit was getting real; but vernon tried to dodge the fact. “do you have anything to tell me?”

“stop acting cheeky. it’s not cute.”

“no, i’m serious. you must’ve called to say something.”

“i can’t just call to say hi?”

“that’s what you wanted to say? hi?” the words came out far more acerbic than he had intended.

and for the first time, your voice faltered. “didn’t… didn’t you miss me?”

to answer that would be to burst a dam. he felt no choice but to fall back on old tricks. “did you miss me?”

you huffed. vernon knew he was pushing your limit, but it was all he could do. now it was quiet on your end, and he was contemplating a better way to weasel out of this when the bell of his apartment abruptly rang.

perfect. “um— hey, so sorry to cut this short, but i just— there’s a friend coming over, they’re at the door—” and he walked hastily toward it. “we can talk later.” and he hung up before you had the time to reply, simultaneously opening the door to find you, drenched, no umbrella in sight, staring daggers into him.

he was so stunned that he couldn’t exclaim. you kept staring until you grew tired of it, and blinked away. with your hair dripping so much, it was impossible to tell whether your face was wet with tears or rain.

just as vernon began to take up his hand to wipe your cheek, you spoke again. “really hard fucking way to get me to ask you out.”

his hand froze. to what? “of course i missed you, hansol. i missed you so much, i couldn't do anything else. i missed you so much, i ran here while it was pouring, and you know i hate going outside when it's like this. i missed you so much, it’s been driving me insane! what the hell did i do that was so wrong?” your voice was breaking, fracturing. “can’t you tell me?”

the way vernon stood made him look like a film on pause. only his eyes trembled, ever so slightly, drinking you in with excruciating care because heaven knows how much he missed you too.

before he could think of what to say back, his body moved reflexively into yours, arms wrapped around you, head buried in your neck. you were so cold against him, so tense with emotion that his embrace left you melting.

“i thought you didn’t want me,” he breathed, still enveloped in you, “the way i wanted you.”

you sighed, somewhere between relief and exasperation. “why would you assume that, idiot?” it wasn’t really a question. “someone who’s usually so slow to act.”

at that comment, vernon peeled — slowly — away from you to face you again. “i’ll be fast this time,” he vowed, and you tilted your head in puzzlement. “you’re asking me out? my answer is yes.”

a/n: excuse my like two month hiatus. kung chi pak chi summoned me back.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

salut j'espère que vous allez bien j'adore vos histoires de lecteur shinobu x et je voulais vous demander si vous pouviez faire une histoire de lecteur shinobu x fem où kanae n'est pas mort et shinobu a son vrai caractère et que pendant l'histoire, shinobu et le lecteur sa rivale pour voir qui est le meilleur tueur de démons ou juste le meilleur dans l'ensemble, qu'ils se taquinent constamment mais que shinobu a toujours une longueur d'avance sur le lecteur et que d'une manière ou d'une autre ils finissent en couple à la fin (merci donc beaucoup si vous acceptez ma demande et sachez que vous êtes mon écrivain shinobu préféré <3)

You’re My (Sparring) Partner

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: I don’t know any French so I hope Google Translate didn’t let us down too bad. Quick plot introduction: Kanae lived, Shinobu’s her good ol’ grouchy self, and she and reader are always competing to see who is better. Some bumps in the path before they finally end up together because Shinobu is stubborn. Thank you for the request. Espérons que vous apprécierez! Word Count: 4,340

“I killed two demons last night.” (Y/n) shared with a bit of pride over breakfast that morning, subtlety looking over the rim of her cup at Shinobu as she drank, before putting the cup back down with a quiet click. “I made very clean cuts too, that’s what you said, right? Kanae-sama?”

A quiet laugh left Kanae’s lips before she nodded, “Yes, you certainly are improving. I’m very proud.”

Shinobu rolled her eyes, her teeth lightly grinding together before she added, “Well my record in one night is four. Two isn’t that impressive.”

“Oh yeah, well—“

“Shinobu, (Y/n), please no bickering at the table. It’s a little early to be playing this game, don’t you think?” Kanae sighed.

“It’s not a game, Neesan.” Shinobu refuted, matching (Y/n)’s glare.

This rivalry had been going on for years. Ever since Shinobu finally accepted that she wasn’t fit for Flower Breathing and decided to cultivate her own breathing style and (Y/n) had wormed her way in to train under Kanae as a Tsuguko, the spot that should have been Shinobu’s by all accounts. It had left the girl bitter and looking for just about any excuse to show (Y/n) how much better she was than her. Even now as a Hashira herself, she still hadn’t been able to quite let go of that initial disappointment and start a new chapter.

Of course, (Y/n) didn’t take Shinobu’s challenges sitting down. She had earned her spot within the Butterfly Estate, but the only one who remained unconvinced was the one person she wanted to impress almost more than the Flower Hashira herself.

Ever since (Y/n) had met Shinobu, she hadn’t thought of her as anything short of brilliant. She took every curve ball life had thrown her way and found a way to hit a home run every time. Not able to decapitate demons, she made a special poison that could kill them anyway. Not suited for the more mainstream breathing techniques, she created her own. Not to mention her speed and mastery over Total Concentration Breathing Constant was nothing to sneeze at either.

To be acknowledged and accepted by Shinobu was all she really wanted and she was willing to do anything to prove her worth. She would compete with Shinobu until she earned her respect.

“Yes, it’s a very serious matter, Master.” (Y/n) agreed, smirking at Shinobu’s scowl.

“Well then take it outside. You are making poor Kanao nervous and I’m sure the other girls don’t appreciate the hostility brewing between you two either.” Kanae said, motioning to the group of girls around the table who did indeed just wanted to eat their breakfast in peace.

“Fine.” Shinobu’s hands slapped against the table as she got up. “I could go for a spar, how about you? Or are you still too sleepy from being up past your bedtime?”

“I recall you waiting up to greet me last night. So I’m sure we have the same advantage.”

“As if I was waiting for you. I had questions for my sister about our medicinal ingredient supply shipments.”

They bickered and taunted each other, even nudging and shoving each other as they made their way out the door. Kanae gave another tired sigh.

“Why can’t those two just get along?”

***

Shinobu flung a wooden sword at (Y/n) who was luckily paying enough attention to catch it before it smacked her in the face and quick enough to immediately retaliate.

“Readysetgo!” Thwack!

It was a dirty tactic to begin a spar without allowing enough time to at least get in a proper starting stance, but Shinobu had anticipated the swipe and blocked it easily.

“Can’t even catch me off guard properly.” Shinobu taunted.

“Who said I trying to?” (Y/n) asked with faux innocence, blocking Shinobu’s counter strike, “I gave you fair warning. Did you feel like I was trying to catch you off guard? In that case, maybe I did catch you a bit off guard after all. My apologies.”

Shinobu sneered, then jumped back. With the weight behind Shinobu’s block gone, (Y/n) was suddenly pushing back against nothing but air. She stumbled forward as Shinobu advanced, turning sharply behind her, wooden sword already swinging towards its intended target.

(Y/n) had been burned by that little maneuver once before and she wasn’t going to give Shinobu the satisfaction of a second. She continued to fall forward, kicking her legs up into the air when her hands came in contact with the ground. She could feel the displacement of air roll over her back, Shinobu had followed through with her strike and missed!

With all the force (Y/n) could muster, she torpedoed on her palms, attempting to catch Shinobu’s face with her foot, but Shinobu quickly cocked her head to the side and dropped her sword to the ground so she could brace her hands at (Y/n)’s ankle and knee. With a smirk, she twisted (Y/n)’s leg, and kicked out (Y/n)’s arms from under her, forcing her to the ground completely.

Before (Y/n) could attempt to scramble to her feet, Shinobu planted her foot firmly to the center of her back.

“That was an entertaining little display.” Shinobu cooed. “Where did you pick that up from? Weird boar boy?”

“Just get off of me already.” (Y/n) groused, she attempted to hit Shinobu’s ankle, but was not quite flexible enough to do more than brush against the offending foot.

“I didn’t hear you say you concede.” Shinobu knelt down, one knee in the dirt by (Y/n)’s side, foot still on the disgruntled Tsuguko’s back. She cupped a hand around her ear and got in real close, “Say it nice and loud so I can hear you, okay?”

So humiliating! (Y/n) stormed through the mansion after her devastating defeat to lick her wounds in peace. Shinobu always seemed to be one step ahead of her! Of course she was a Hashira, more skilled and practiced than (Y/n) was, but as a Tsuguko to the Flower Hashira, she should be able to last more than five minutes with Shinobu in a spar!

“Hey, everything okay in there?” Kanae had knocked on the door, “I see Shinobu is gloating again.”

(Y/n) opened the door to let Kanae in. Then she flooped back down on her bed and sighed.

“Master, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can’t you train me any harder? Or at least teach me all of your sister’s weaknesses?”

Kanae giggled, taking a seat on the edge of (Y/n)’s bed, “I don’t think that would be very fair. She would be angry with me for weeks, maybe longer. She can sure hold a grudge. As for training, I can only teach you so much… especially now that I have these Mount Natagumo spider slayers that are in need of a rigorous medication program in order to return to normal. I just don’t have the time to train you any more strenuously than I already do.”

“Oh…” though (Y/n) was already laying flat against the bed, she somehow seemed to sink further with her mounting disappointment.

“But there is something we could possibly do while Shinobu and I work on healing the spider slayers.”

(Y/n) perked up a bit, “What?”

“Mitsuri, the new Love Hashira. We got to become aquatinted at the last meeting. She’s a very sweet girl. It would probably do you both some good to train together. It would give Mitsuri a jumpstart on teaching experience and you would get tutelage from another Hashira. Seems like a win-win, doesn’t it?”

“Can you really set that up, Kanae-sama?” (Y/n) was sitting up now, much more excited.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll write her a letter an ask her if she’s busy. She can stay with us for a couple of days and over see your training until the spider slayers are more obviously on the mend.”

“Thank you, Kanae-sama!”

Things might just start looking up! She’d show Shinobu just how strong she could become!

***

Mitsuri was very sweet, almost too sweet. If (Y/n) wasn’t such a well-disciplined Tsuguko, they wouldn’t have gotten anything done. But for as green of a Hashira as Mitsuri was, she was incredibly strong! Maybe even more so than Kanae. Her actual teaching could use work, but (Y/n) felt like she was learning a lot and it was only the first day of three that Mitsuri would be available. She was going to really give Shinobu a run for her money the next time they decided to cross swords. Speaking of,

“Kanroji-san, what are you doing here?” Shinobu had happened by an open door and heard (Y/n) laughing, looking up from the stack of patient files she had in her arms, she had not expected to find her sparring with Mitsuri of all people.

“Oh, hi Shinobu!” Mitsuri loosened her hold on (Y/n) to wave at Shinobu, “Kanae asked me to help pick up on (Y/n)’s training while you guys are working hard with all of your new patients. I’d say things are going pretty well so far!”

“Surprise attack!” (Y/n) tried to pull Mitsuri to the ground. Mitsuri bent forward a little bit, but mostly stood her ground.

“Hey!” Mitsuri giggled, quickly switching the hold to put (Y/n) on the ropes instead, tickling (Y/n)’s sides to make her laugh and beg for mercy.

Shinobu wasn’t sure what it was, but she was not a fan of this new development. (Y/n) never laughed with her like that when they sparred… and why would she! Shinobu didn’t give a damn beyond adding another win to the score board. But they did look like they were having fun… getting along so quickly after only just meeting too… ARGH!

“Try not to go too hard on (Y/n), Kanroji-san. She’s fragile.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu an annoyed look, “I am not. Kanroji-san can be as rough with me as she needs to be if I’m ever going to be a Hashira one day too.”

“That’ll be the day, won’t it?” Shinobu grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll make a great Hashira one day (Y/n)! It would be so nice to get to see you more often.” Mitsuri beamed.

“That would be great!”

“That would be great.” Shinobu mocked under her breath as she walked away, the sound of the other girls laughter grating against her ears.

When she re-entered the infirmary and slammed the papers down on the table, Kanae looked up and observed her sister.

“What has you all broody?”

“I’m not broody.”

“If you say so…”

Kanae refocused her attention to the wiggly spider slayer in her arms. It was hard getting them to swallow their medication without giving them her full attention.

“Why didn’t you ask me to help (Y/n) with her training?” Shinobu suddenly spoke up after a few minutes.

“Hm? I figured you would rather do literally anything else. Besides, you’re helping me take care of all these new patients… Did you want to help (Y/n)?”

“No.” Shinobu answered hurriedly. “I just don’t think she and Mitsuri are taking the training seriously is all.”

Kanae looked at Shinobu from the corner of her eye and took note of her disgruntled expression. Such a cute, pouty frown. Kanae moved in to the next patient, a smile growing across her face as a sense of clarity came over her. She wondered just how long her stubborn little sister could hold out before her jealousy overtakes her pride.

Apparently the very same day.

“Kanroji-san, her stance is all wrong, see?” Shinobu had butted in between the two of them after Kanae had sent her off to eat lunch, but of course she could not simply walk past Mitsuri and (Y/n) when she had noticed (Y/n) stance was so blatantly off-balance.

“Oh! I guess you’re right Shinobu.” Mitsuri agreed.

“Stand with your feet further apart.” Shinobu mumbled, kicking (Y/n)’s foot further out, then twisting (Y/n)’s waist and adjusting the way she held her arms up and her grip around the practice sword.

Honestly, (Y/n)‘s stance was perfectly acceptable without Shinobu’s knit picking, but Shinobu had to find some excuse to put space between (Y/n) and Mitsuri. Why that was? She didn’t dwell on an answer.

“There, you feel that pull?” Shinobu asked and (Y/n) blinked back to life, having had gone somewhere else as Shinobu had gently pushed her body into place.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I feel it.”

“Good.”

Shinobu looked for every opportunity she could to step in. Only stopping when Kanae came looking for her and scolded her for letting Aoi’s lunch for her grow cold. She did end up eating with (Y/n) and Mitsuri though, which was good because… well, just because!

She squeezed between them at the table, getting gradually more annoyed as they talked over her head. She did manage to find one way to get (Y/n) to remember she was sitting right beside her.

“You have rice on your face.”

She reached out to brush her thumb over (Y/n)’s chin, coming away with a couple grains of rice.

(Y/n) blinked and subconsciously lifted her hand to her chin where her skin still tingled from Shinobu’s brief touch, “Oh… thanks.”

“You two are so cute!” Mitsuri sighed dreamily, “How long have you guys been together?”

Both (Y/n) and Shinobu’s heads snapped towards Mitsuri.

“We are not together!” They shouted in unison, startling Mitsuri.

“Ehh, really? I could have sworn… Just they way you two acted around each other today, I thought you might be a couple. I’m sorry if I made it awkward.”

“I’d rather cut off my own hands.” Shinobu scoffed, then she was startled by a heavy thump beside her as (Y/n)’s fists hit the table.

“Do you really have to go that far?” (Y/n) hissed, shooting up to her feet, “I’m so sorry the idea of being with me sounds so awful to you that you’d rather mutilate yourself. If you really hate me that much, then why don’t you leave me the fuck alone!”

“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy, do you?” Shinobu snapped back before she could think better of it, as was the risk being as hotheaded as she tended to be. She regretted it very soon after.

“All I ever wanted was for you to acknowledge me, to praise me just once instead of shooting me down. I thought competing with you was the only way to make you see me, but it only seemed to make things worse between us.”

She quickly rubbed beneath her eyes to catch any stupid tears that slipped over her resolve.

“Well, I know now that it will never happen so I’ll stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine. And that means quit budging in on my training with Mitsuri!”

(Y/n) took Mitsuri by the arm and Mitsuri gave Shinobu an apologetic look, taking the rest of her plate with her as (Y/n) dragged her off.

“That probably couldn’t have gone worse if you tried.”

Shinobu snapped her attention to the other set of doors that lead outside. They slid open to reveal Kanae, who simply waltzed in as if she hadn’t been eavesdropping pretty much the whole time.

“What does it matter?” Shinobu spoke sharply, “I’ll finally have some peace around here.”

“You could have had a perfectly peaceful three days while Mitsuri was keeping her busy, but you couldn’t even last one without her.”

“Oh great, you thought we liked each other too, didn’t you?”

“If you would stop getting in your own way for a minute, you’d know it’s true. You two have always been trying to prove yourself to each other in some way, just not always the best way. Like it or not, you are each other’s drive to do better.”

Shinobu opened her mouth to argue, but Kanae have gave her a warning look before continuing on,

“I hope you two will realize your being silly and work this out before too long. If anyone here really needs peace from your overstayed rivalry, it’s me,” she teasingly ruffled Shinobu’s hair, “For now, I need your help back in the infirmary.”

With an annoyed grunt, Shinobu followed Kanae back to the infirmary. All the while she ranted within her mind. Everyone in this mansion was delusional. The only feelings she had for (Y/n) were ones of annoyance. But when she passed by the open door near the infirmary again and saw (Y/n) and Mitsuri cuddled up together in the grass, her heart betrayed her mind by pounding against her chest. Almost as if to burst right between her ribs and flop in the grass until it finally reached its destination. If Shinobu wouldn’t go to (Y/n), it would reach her on its own.

“Keep walking, Shinobu~” Kanae lightly warned, “If you want your peace, you must leave them be.”

Shinobu grit her teeth and continued off to the infirmary despite her heart’s protests. This is what she wanted, her heart would just have to deal with it.

***

The healing of the spider slayers was going much slower than anticipated. To Shinobu’s very much internal dismay, Kanae had asked Mitsuri if she could stay just a few days more, maybe a whole other week. For a moment, Shinobu thought things would finally go back to normal because Mitsuri simply couldn’t get anymore time away, but then Kanae suggested she take (Y/n) with her to keep training her until the spider slayers were closer to being cured.

To Shinobu’s dismay, both Mitsuri and (Y/n) found the idea favorable and the left together sometime that afternoon when Shinobu was busy making more stupid spider medicine.

“You seem to be grinding those herbs extra hard,” Kanae had noted, “I’m sorry, had I known you wanted to see them off, I would have come to get you, but you wouldn’t want to miss out on any peace and quiet, wouldn’t you?”

Damn her, Shinobu thought. It didn’t matter if she got to see (Y/n) off or not. She’d be back before she knew it, and in a way she was right, but not in the way she wanted to be.

Only two nights after (Y/n) had left with Mitsuri, she was being carried back in by the frantic Hashira that had taken her, bloody and unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry, Kanae!” Mitsuri cried, “I got distracted during the mission and didn’t notice right away that (Y/n) had been lured into an ambush pursuing a fleeing demon. She fought them off as long as she could before I could get to her, but… I feel awful! I didn’t know what to do, will she be okay?”

“Sit, Mitsuri,” Kanae soothed, “you got her here as fast as you could, that’s what matters. Let me take it from here—“

Shinobu pushed passed Kanae to (Y/n)’s cot, “This isn’t the time for talk, we need to get to work, now!” She demanded angrily.

“Shinobu,” Kanae warned, “if you want to help, you have to calm down. You won’t do her any good if you let your brashness cut corners.”

Shinobu continued to peer down at (Y/n)’s battered body and try as she might to quiet her boiling rage to a simmer, she could not. She was furious. Furious at the demons, even Kanae and Mitsuri to a lesser extent, but most of all she felt angry with herself. If she wasn’t so attached to her pride and stubbornness, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe her last words to (Y/n) wouldn’t have been so harsh. What if she died before Shinobu could apologize?

“Shinobu, leave.” Kanae made the difficult call upon seeing her sister’s wide-eyed distress, but Shinobu shook her head, refusing to let go of (Y/n)’s hand.

Kanae exhaled sharply, there was no time for this. She wasn’t going to lose her Tsuguko because of her sister’s guilty hovering.

“Shinobu,” the harsh tone made Shinobu flinch, “out. I promise to let you back in once I’ve administered proper care. Mitsuri, take her out with you please.”

Shinobu numbly allowed Mitsuri to lead her away, keeping her eyes on (Y/n) until a Kakushi closed the door behind them. Unwilling to stray any further, Shinobu slid to the ground opposite the infirmary, and waited. Straining her hearing for any hint of what was going on beyond the door.

“You care about her a lot,” Mitsuri spoke up softly after a few long minutes of silence, “why haven’t you told her?”

If that wasn’t the million dollar question… Shinobu kept silent.

“Well, don’t worry. Kanae is going to get her all fixed up and then you can tell her all the things you wanted to say, okay?”

What did Mitsuri know? Shinobu thought bitterly. Shinobu saw that gash on her forehead, that deep wound in her belly, no one could say with one hundred percent certainty that (Y/n) would recover from this.

“You should practice what you want to say.” Mitsuri said, hoping to distract Shinobu from her dark thoughts, “I’ll talk through it with you, if you want. I’m rooting for you guys.”

Part of Shinobu wanted to tell Mitsuri to mind her own business, but she really did need the help if she was going to go through with this properly. So she took a deep breath, and took a step in the right direction.

When Kanae came out of the infirmary hours later, Shinobu and Mitsuri rocketed up from the floor and before they could bombard Kanae with questions, she held up her hands and said,

“She’s going to be okay. You can go see for yourselves.”

And when Shinobu rushed to (Y/n)’s side, she definitely did look better already. Blood washed away, wounds expertly stitched, clean bandages and clothes. Shinobu hunkered down in the chair by her bedside, scooting it as close to the bed as she could before taking (Y/n)’s hand and holding between her own.

Kanae smiled and shook her head. It was a very rude awakening, but at the very least Shinobu was heading in the right direction now. She went to rest knowing (Y/n) would be well looked after.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, the harsh light burned her eyes so she quickly shut them as soon as she opened them. Her body felt heavy and stiff. She couldn’t even wiggle her fingers. Well, none on her left hand anyway. She couldn’t remember the demons doing anything that would warrant a cast over her hand, but there was too much going on to process every injury fully, she imagined. It was weird how warm and sweaty the cast had made her hand though. It was a little uncomfortable.

(Y/n) tried to flip to her side instead of laying flat on her back, but found she was too weak to do it and groaned quietly. The ‘cast’ around her hand constricted in a light squeeze and a soft voice hushed her. Kanae, she assumed. Kanae must be with her, holding her hand. That made sense. Oh, her poor Master. It must have been hard to see her like that.

She tried to open her eyes again, blinking several times before she could even hold a squint. Though her vision was still a bit blurry, it was clearly not Kanae by her bedside. No, it was… was it really Shinobu?

“(Y/n), you’re awake.” Shinobu sounded so relieved that (Y/n) wasn’t so sure she had actually woken up.

“You’re holding my hand.” She blurted. No filter with her head injury apparently.

“Do you want me to stop?” Shinobu asked awkwardly, no bite whatsoever, nor true embarrassment at getting caught. She just seemed… shy, maybe a little uncertain.

“No… it’s fine.” Though she would have liked to air out her hand a little, she didn’t want to risk Shinobu getting offended and breaking whatever spell had come over her.

“I, I have a lot I need to say to you. Will you hear me out?”

Though (Y/n) was nervous, she nodded, managing to free her fingers to wrap them over Shinobu’s hand that cradled her own beneath the other. Shinobu took in a shaky breath, than began as she and Mitsuri had practiced.

***

One Month Later

“You aren’t back to full strength yet, don’t be so discouraged.” Shinobu spoke softly to (Y/n) as she helped her up from the cushy training room floor.

“But still,” (Y/n) pouted, hugging Shinobu and looking for further comfort once she was on her feet again, “I wanna beat you just once, is that so much to ask for?”

“Put those puppy eyes away. We both know you wouldn’t be satisfied if I just let you win.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back.

“No, it would still be satisfying. The only real reason you won’t let me win is because you’re too proud of your flawless record of beating me to the ground.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s truuue.” (Y/n) nuzzled her nose into Shinobu’s neck, making her laugh, “kiss me and make me feel better?”

“I guess I can give you that much.”

Shinobu coaxed (Y/n)’s face out of her neck with her hands on either side of her face and brought her in for kiss. She had only meant for it to be a short one, but (Y/n) had made it difficult to want to pull away, not that Shinobu really minded all that much. Not until she found herself suddenly pinned to the ground at least.

“I win!” (Y/n) grinned.

“No you don’t,” Shinobu frowned, “this wasn’t a match.”

“I didn’t actually say I forfeited, remember? This match is still on, baby!”

“Then my position still stands, you haven’t won anything yet,” Shinobu struggled against (Y/n)’s hold until she was nearly red in the face, but still she didn’t budge, “don’t you know cheaters never prosper?”

“All is fair in love and war, my dearest Shinobu.” (Y/n) giggled. “Are you gonna forfeit yet?”

Shinobu snuck her hands up (Y/n)’s back, making her shiver, she chuckled darkly, the same competitive glint in her eyes as always as she pulled the her girlfriend down to her lips.

“You wish.”

[etirabys]

on jogging

I took up jogging 2.5 months ago. I'm going off the c25k schedule, which slowly ramps you up from couch potato fitness to being able to run a 5k. This was much more effective than just trying to get into jogging by mimicking other, fitter, joggers, which was what I did every previous time I briefly tried to get into jogging. I feel embarrassed for never having thought of this before – it's clear that 'my brain was off' in those times when I went mimicry-running.

One issue that made me get into jogging so ineffectively: I didn't realize how terrible my starting physical fitness was. I used to think I was… like… normal? No athlete, for sure, but I'm a "normal amount of miserable" on hikes (and can complete most of them), I'm an intermediate boulderer, I rarely notice activities I'm gated from because of fitness. But when I started c25k with three partners, none of whom regularly jogged, they were all significantly less winded than I was.

And for the first dang time in my life I explicitly had a thought that went, "I can run 1 minute before my body forces me to stop. My partners can run 3-4 minutes. Some people can run 30 minutes."

Once I actually had any sense of "jogging levels" it was so clear how close to the bottom I was when I started out. That gives me some hope that being much fitter will solve my fatigue problems?

I used to be able to run 1 minute, and now I can run 2. By one (terrible but also kind of reasonable?) metric, I'm twice as fit as I used to be. But a nontrivial fraction of the population can jog 30 consecutive minutes! It seems worth getting to that point to see what that does to my energy levels / cognition.

–

Also: I haven't been sticking to the c25k schedule. I go 1.5 times a week where it expects 3, and I stuck a level between week 2 and week 3 because the 1.5m->3m jump looked insane to me. I've been on that custom level 2.5 for a month. I had a mindblowing conversation with the giant and 81k yesterday where I went, yeah, I've been stuck at week 2.5 because I've felt unready for week 3. And they said, that's probably because you're not going enough.

What do you mean? I asked. I've run about a full session and a half session every week for four weeks. Isn't that the same as 3 full sessions every week for two weeks?

No, they said, surprised I didn't know this. There's an optimal timing. If you'd probably stuck literally to the c25k schedule you probably could have gone from level 2 to 3 in a week.

GYARJRGH? I said. FUSBARIJIJJLK?

(I still disbelieve the literal claim that I can go to level 3 after doing level 2 properly, but I believe them that I would be leveling up a lot faster if I stuck to the schedule)

–

Anyway, some things I'd like to say to my past self, who felt obligated to work out for fatigue issues and then proceeded to exercise very badly because there was such a big ugh field around the topic of exercise:

You do not realize how big the gap between you and even moderately athletic people is. This is good, actually. It means that the correct place to start is easier than you think.

You should try to do it like 3 times a week. Date a jock. There are some on tumblr

Consider starting this when you have positive pressure rather than negative pressure. When you're buckling under multiple joy-sparking projects and want to rise to the challenge, it will be much easier to start & stick to it than when you're an anhedonic lump who has nothing to look forward to, but knows that exercise will in theory make life better in some vague way.