#i'm so excited for next chapter even though i'm the one writing it lmao

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Just finished reading the new chapter of jadeite ginko and all I have to say is:

AAAAAAAAHHHHH

It's so good every single time

The Bai disciples in awe gathering around the shield, adding Zhongli to the sparring session and then wanting a picture with him? He's like a celebrity !!

zc sparring omg omg omg they went easy on each other BUT STILL !!!!!!!

THEY'RE GOING ON A DATE NEXT CHAPTER, well a platonic one, but it's a date! Childe you're one step closer to wooing your man

Also the stuttering when Childe sked him out!!! Him being so dazed that he fumbled a little and mentioned the hour again aaahhhh so good

I can already tell he's gonna be panicking SO much

always happy to deliver!!!

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 10 "Fettered Flesh"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧

A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse��, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism❗, Murder, Female rage, Teaching the Universe about Feminism, Angst with a Happy Ending

WORD COUNT: 5k

A/N: HELLO PRECIOUS PEOPLE 💕 Shit hits the Giedi Prime fan, so get out your umbrellas!! I feel like with every chapter I'm getting more excited 🥹 And everyone who has left a comment is to blame 😭 I appreciate it so greatly 😭 I've recently started an internship thingy (in a manner of baby's first real job experience lmao), so I have a bit less time to write, but chapter 11 and 12 are finished already, so I do have a bit of food in stock 💪

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter, Next Chapter →

Day 5

Jealousy is a beast, but loneliness is a monster.

Jealousy ignites with fiery tendrils but loneliness drowns you slowly until you're staring up from the bottom of the pitch black sea, yearning for the light.

All day she's been mulling over the three woman-creatures, Feyd's "pets". What is it that infuriates her the most? The physical violence? The fear of what they might have done to her - Death, torture or worse? Their derogatory status? Their beastliness grafted into female bodies, paired with the fact that Feyd has been bedding them at some point?

Without thinking about it, and perhaps it is tactless, she has been pouring her heart out to Lilia while the attentive handmaid is treating her scabbed injuries from last night. Now it is evident that wound management is a well-needed skill around the Harkonnen palace. The sarcophagus is safely folded up and her new weapon is tucked into one of the compartments.

"Am I overreacting?!" She asks, even though - hell no - she knows she isn't, but a part of her soul yearns for human connection, affirmation, camaraderie, friendship. It feels so good to be talking to someone who is not the man she thought she knew or the belittling Bene Gesserit sisters.

"Hmm," Lilia begins tentatively and the glowglobe light brings out the unusual color of her eyes as she tilts her head, so amber that they almost appear golden. "While I'll say it's never been common for the na-Baron to practice monogamy… I'll also say that I'd be quite furious at my husband if he had three women on the side." Her voice quivers upon women, as if it repels her to describe the three beings as such. The spider in the Baron's throne room may be the most harmless monster to roam these halls.

The engineer's questions chip away and it becomes perfectly clear that it's the jealousy that cuts the deepest, even with her superficial wounds cared for, a blade is wedged inside her guts that will keep on cutting.

"And do these 'pets' have handmaids too?" A self-destructive question to determine where her own status truly lies. What's a bride but another pet to him?

"They used to have handmaids…" Lilia hesitates. "But they always ended up eating them. I'm glad to be assigned to you, my Lady."

Great. There she has another horror to add to the menagerie.

Lilia continues: "If it calms you, I doubt there will be any further incidences with them. The na-Baron has been in an, uhm, unstable mood since last night." The maid's posture turns rigid. She shouldn't be speaking about the na-Baron like that, but the Earth woman's emotions are contagious. Lilia will get herself killed if she's not careful. She's been telling that to herself since she was a little girl.

"Unstable, uh-huh, well so am I."

The Harkonnen woman nods and decides it is best not to elaborate on what it means when Feyd-Rautha is having the worst day of his life.

Vladimir Harkonnen chuckles with delight at his nephew's distress and the infantile killing spree that has been painting the halls black since last night.

It took even less time than he expected, for the new woman to be disgusted by his poor nephew and he cannot hold it against her. Feyd-Rautha is a raging child in an unfortunately manly body. 

The Baron is well-entertained by the hollow screams that blare down the hallways. First the three harpies. A shame, they had helped keep Feyd settled so nicely and they hadn't been cheap either. It's also a shame that the Bene Tleilax don't offer bulk discount, considering the number of Gholas the Baron saw himself forced to commission for the little game his nephew and he have been playing.

Next on Feyd's blade was the guard at his little witch's door, then anyone who crossed his path in the night, all the while Feyd was chafing with desire to be cut and hurt. But no one outside of the ring is allowed to raise their blades against the Baron's heir apparent, unless instructed by the Harkonnen sovereign himself.

Some fire has returned to his nephew since the woman's arrival and he appreciates that, yes, he does, but he will keep a sharp eye on the two of them. He has no doubt that she's a Bene Gesserit agent who has implanted phantasms in Feyd-Rautha's mind, but Vladimir is willing to play the sisterhood's game, for his nephew's sake, even though he had sworn to never let a witch enter his fortress again. 

Not since Lady Margot Fenring had tried to steal his lovely boy's precious seed. Luckily, Feyd's blade had worked quicker than the thief's vocal chords.

But Valdimir is willing to adapt. The boy had been boring him to death for the past two years and he used to be so entertaining and feisty!

In the evening hours after a night and day of bloodshed, Feyd still has stamina (a trait the Baron cherishes so dearly about his nephew) and comes barging into the guarded dining room, bringing with him the cloying scent of blood that sticks to the tacky soles of his boots. He wears the clothes of yesterday and blood lust in his eyes.

Careful now.

Vladimir gives no sign to the guards, chews without haste and takes a noisy gulp of wine, making sure a bead rolls down the folds of his massive neck. The muscle at his nephew's jaw twitches and his fingers strangulate the blood-slick handle of his blade.

The eight arm-legged arachnid creature shivers in its basket under the table, eager to get to Feyd, partly because his boots smell yummy, but it doesn't dare move away from the Baron's feed. Smart thing.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault that she doesn't like you, boy."

Feyd halts as if struck by one of the bolts of infrared lightning that cook the atmosphere during the summer months. Tension strains his neck, a bull ready to charge at his Matador and for a second the Baron thinks he'll have to switch on his shield ring. But his nephew turns and barges off with bouncing, stomping steps, draining his stamina and wetting his knives on everything that breathes, when the only one he really wants to kill sits fat and mighty on his throne. 

It's almost cute, Vladimir thinks. The boy could kill him so easily now, if he really put his cunning, little mind to it. He's strong enough, smart enough, but his spirit - that's the crux. Feyd's spirit is broken and riddled with fear of the punishments. The last time he tried was at 17 and then never again.

Ah-h-h, yes, the Baron has conditioned him well and he considers it his retirement plan. Age hasn't left the Harkonnen sovereign unscathed and while his mind may still be sharp (or else how would he have come up with such a genius plan!), his morbidly obese body fully relies on the protection of his shield ring, guards, lung machine and poison snoopers. But as long as the boy still fears him, the deadliest threat within these halls remains on a pretty, silver leash.

The fire of jealousy has dwindled down and now all she does is miss him, sitting lonely in her room, lonely on this planet, lonely in the universe with only inanimate objects and the virtual messages and images of dead people to keep her company. None of this can ever compare to the warm hands of her beloved and his smile, the roundness of his cheeks and his painted teeth. She misses the way his eyes used to crinkle just for her. He had made her believe that only she could make him smile and offer a sliver of peace to his soul.

It's been two years since their last dream. Why wouldn't he have taken other women?

He said he "hasn't touched them". Since when? Since he learned she's alive? Since their first dreams? Ever?

She regrets now that she denied him when he knocked on her door an hour ago. The bitter guilt of disgracing oneself crawls over her when she slowly moves towards the door, but her self-respect has cauterized and become cinders along with her fury. Feeling sick to her stomach, she places her hand on the panel and the heavy door slides open.

Finding herself face to back with a guard in bulky plate armor, she halts. She wouldn't know where exactly to find Feyd's room anyway. The man turns on his heels and salutes briskly before returning his hand to the hilt of his saber.

"Good evening. Ah, wait, are you… New?" She blurts out, not meaning to seem disrespectful. The Harkonnens often do look quite alike to her, but she could have sworn the old guard was a little shorter.

"Yes, my Lady." The man looks right above the crown of her head, avoiding her eyes.

"What happened to the other guard?"

"He was replaced, my Lady."

That does make sense and she's almost a little relieved. She wouldn't want anyone who'd let these bloodthirsty creatures inside to guard her and her most valuable possession. However, she still hopes this incident won't ruin his chances of employment indefinitely.

"I see." She glances cautiously down the austere corridor. Past the windows, there is only blackness and the occasional faraway rumble from the factories. "Do you have to stand here all night? Your feet must be hurting. What about a chair?"

"I'm not allowed such luxuries."

"Says who? You can't excel at your job while being overworked and your feet are aching in those boots." 

The man wonders if the na-Baron's Lady wishes to insult or test him. "I am at full capacity, my Lady!" He salutes again. "I have no complaints about my boots."

"Fine, alright. Could you please point me the way to Feyd's room then? I want to see him. No need to accompany me, I'm sure I'll find it, just make sure no one enters my room, please?"

"Sorry!" The man extends his arm to the side, stopping her advance around him without laying a finger on the Lady. "The na-Baron has ordered this door to be sealed unless he or your handmaid demand entrance."

"Well I don't demand entrance, I want to exit. I want to see Feyd."

The guard grows queasy. That scenario was not included in his instructions. To be fair, the briefing for his new position can be considered rudimental at best but he didn't complain. Up here has been the safest spot in the palace tonight. "The na-Baron doesn't welcome visitors in his private quarters."

"But I'm his…" She swallows uncomfortably. "Betrothed, or am I not?"

"You are, my Lady."

"So, couldn't you perhaps call him?"

The poor guard's expression says 'I'd rather not'. The na-Baron has only just settled, finally, and even the dumbest desert rat knows not to wake a sleeping tiger. All evening long he's been wondering how many of his comrades will be dead come the morning and he doesn't want to be the next one to become fodder for the slaves' food rations. "I'm sorry, my Lady. It is against the protocol to disturb the na-Baron at night unless there is an emergency. Is there an emergency?"

"No…" The woman's expression twists into defeat and she pads backwards with slackened shoulders and somber eyes. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

The door slides shut and she is too sad to even be angry about her gentle imprisonment. There's nothing out there for her anyway, except for Feyd, and if he doesn't want to see her…

Self-destructive thoughts sprout from the cinders in her chest and grow into the wildest phantasms. The guard was too kind to tell her Feyd has visitors in his room. Perhaps he explicitly decreed that she is not to join him.

To prevent herself from hurtling into a bottomless spiral, she must find a distraction. Nearly choking on bitter tears, she opens up the virtual app drawer that she's most familiar with and selects the 3d-modeling tool. A nice, little task to keep her thoughts from straying is exactly what she needs, and so she settles down on the bed and begins to design a practical, foldable, printable chair for her guard, thoughtfully optimizing stability and the required resources.

The engineer doesn't notice when her tears dry, but they do.

Day 6

She sleeps awfully that night, despite the chip's helpful sleeping program consisting of gentle rain and soothing frequencies. It can't have been much longer than two hours when she is awoken by a knock on the door, followed by another, more insistent one a moment later.

The 3d-modeling interface still overlays reality when her eyes snap open and her sluggish brain activity requires a moment to shut it down. She was almost finished with the printable chair parts last night, but she must have dozed off eventually. 

The knocking persists and she calls: "Lilia?"

A pause. "It's me." An unmistakable, deep and raspy voice comes muffled from the other side. Feyd-Rautha, freshly showered and dressed in a clean, casual suit, leans his forehead against the cool, thick plastic, breathing hard and fast so that his respiration condenses on the door. Waiting, he pleads silently for mercy. He cannot do this anymore, doesn't want to kill anymore just to feel something other than fear.

She freezes, legs half swung off the mattress as anxiety twists her belly. All of her jealousy comes crashing back and a little demon whispers poison in her ear: Go back to your hyenas and toy around with them, not me!

When silence is the answer to Feyd's timid greeting, his stomach drops as if filled with lead. Blood pounds in his ears like the war drums on his birthdays and his breath becomes shallow, so that he no longer even hears the guard's antsy shuffling. What will he do if she never forgives him? 

A harrowing need for violence flashes through him cold and dark and his twitching hand jerks for the blade at his hip but the door rushes open before he can brandish it and his woman faces him with crossed arms, her face puffy from sleep but her eyes are wide and vulnerable.

She beckons him to enter and he follows, eyes racing to the crowns of thorns in the vase, the sarcophagus, the ruffled bed, everything the way it was. How does she deal with pain?!

"Hello," Feyd mumbles, voice reduced to a tiny, grated whisper.

"Hello."

"Can we… talk?"

The relic nods and waits, clammy fingers clutching her sleeves. But then Feyd says… nothing. His eyes are focused on an imaginary point somewhere behind her navel and his jaws strain as if chewing a brick.

So, she begins: "I'm sorry, but I was very upset." She paces, shoulders drawn up. "I know that customs are different around here, I mean, they obviously are," she guffaws quietly and shakes her head. "But where I'm from, it requires consent to have more than one partner and I never gave you that consent. I've never given my consent to anything that's happened to me since I woke up! And then I found out you're alive and I can be with you and I really believed everything would finally be better, but you-" Her voice hiccups. "I'm very upset, okay?" Her lips twist and she lifts a hand to her mouth, sobbing quietly into her palm. "You're so different in real life."

Feyd's frozen limbs regain their agility and he jumps to her side as she tries to turn away, a swift predator despite his anguish. He clutches her by the arms. "Wait! Remind me. H-How was I in our dreams?" 

"I- I don't know, you looked happy." Her arms burn where he's holding onto her with his broad palms and long fingers. "And you were kind."

"Have I not been kind to you?"

"To me, yes. But being kind only to me is not enough." She shakes her head bitterly.

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Be honest with me. Who are these three?! They said you don't play with them anymore like you used to, and they hurt me, Feyd!" She writhes out of his clenched fists and he lets her because when her fingers skim his wrists, all his muscles go weak. She yanks up her shirt, showing off the healing gash on her waist.

Feyd wants to kill his darlings all over again and his sinful mouth twists into anger. "They used to be my pets. Pleasure slaves, if you will. Just some meaningless toys, nothing more, I swear it to you."

"Pleasure slaves!" She blurts out, shaking her head. At least he's being honest but - what the fuck?! "You-" Stumbling over her own words, she backs away from him with disgust. "Who are you? Who the fuck are you?"

More violence waits on her tongue. Does he respect anyone other than himself?

"You know me! You know who I am, where are you going?!" Doesn't she know she knows more about him than anyone else?

"I don't know shit about you!" She yells. "Where were you last night?"

"What?" All color is drained from his face. How could she know?

"Were you with them because I couldn't perform the way you wanted the other day?"

"What are you talking about?!" Feyd tries to grasp her by the arms once more but she twists away. If anything, he is at blame for being unable to make his woman comfortable enough to reach her release. What a pitiful good-for-nothing he is, pathetic down to the last, rotting cell. "I haven't touched my pets since I met you and that's the truth!"

"Oh, yeah? Then why was I not allowed to see you at night?" 

"What makes you say that?" 

"I tried to come to you last night, but the guard at my door said I'm supposed to stay in this room! So, were you with them?!"

Feyd stops his advance and an incredulous shimmer glazes over his blinking eyes. He could have held her last night, against his hurting heart. A dizzying lightness befalls his chest and sorrow becomes anger and anger wings his footsteps when he turns to the door, grinning, then giggling. Feyd slams his veined hand against the panel so hard, the screen cracks and inky blood slips down the valleys of his palm.

"Feyd? Feyd! What are you-"

The baffled guard faces the snickering na-Baron behind the opening door, last night's tiger resurrected like a Ghola for one last kill. A stammered 'my Lord' on diddering lips. Feyd-Rautha looks as bestial as his hyenas with prowling steps and rolling shoulders, searing eyes locked on his unmoving prey.

"You told my woman she couldn't see me last night? S'that right?" A slip of pink peeks out of the ghastly frame of black, gnashing teeth.

"My Lord, I beg your mercy, I didn't wish to distur-"

Metal flashes. The relic screams as the length of Feyd-Rautha's blade carves into the guard's pallid neck, Adam's apple bulging and sitting on the knife like a popped, black cherry. Blood sputters around Feyd's clenched fingers and laughter has faded from his lungs at once. He digs deeper as the guard draws in gurgling breaths, bubbles of air swimming in the blood around the metal.

The relic freezes like a mouse, glued to the spot as if she might turn invisible to the cold eyes of the beast who wears her lover's clothes. He looks nothing like Feyd-Rautha now, his features empty and alien with eyes that don't feel and hands unfazed by the death that stains them in thick, inky streams that roll down his victim's neck. 

This is how the universe sees him.

Feyd's blade slashes sideways, spraying a half moon of blood across the corridor and when the guard stumbles, he falls back into the na-Baron's knife, adding a vertical gash to the horizontal one, tip sinking into the flesh under his jaws, and with a jerk - up into his tongue.

The man grunts, still clinging to his life by a thread, and lurches forwards without drawing his sword. His head falls on Feyd-Rautha's shoulder. Feet shuffle in a grotesque waltz and Feyd's bloody fingers slip around the taller man's neck, holding him there while his blade plunges into his belly between armor plates so deftly, he could find all the weak spots blindfolded. The body slackens, weighing down on Feyd-Rautha whose ichor dripping fingers aren't ready to let go.

Shuk! Shuk! 

Is the sound of his blade sinking into soft flesh and viscera, whipping back out with a spray of blood and entrails.

The Bene Gesserit may have proclaimed her human, but the adrenaline that sets her nerves ablaze is a gift from her ancestors, animals, because that's what humans are at the end or the day when facing a bigger predator.

Fwump.

Feyd looks her way, the dead body dropped, and blood covers his hand like a shiny glove of ink, dripping down the blade tip in a drizzling stream. The light catches on the sharp edges of his alabaster skull and all she sees is a new, terrifying breed of human, birthed by a world of poison and decay. There are millennia between them. They may share the same DNA but that doesn't mean he is not an alien to her. 

In the end, the man from her dreams is not the man of her dreams.

Out the door? - Blocked! Death!

Off the balcony?! - Death!

To the Sarcophagus then. To her gun.

She turns and sprints, feet skidding over the shards of her rose-colored glasses, but Feyd pounces, a beast hungry for carnage, and catches her around the waist, hurling her backwards with the strength of three men. His blade clatters to the ground.

"No, wait. No. NO! NO! You can't go," he howls. "You cannot leave me!"

Wailing, she thrashes in his grasp and slams her elbow into his guts, her foot against his shin, then his crotch and the soft flesh there is squashed by her heel. When his hold slackens, she twists away and bolts, bare toes slipping across icy marble, but blood-smeared fingers find her shoulder, tearing on the fabric. She throws herself away from him so hard, the seam starts coming apart, so his other hand flies to her throat, steel-hard fingers curling around clammy flesh, yanking her around and against the wall.

She can't be looking at him like that, like he's the devil. Like he looks at his uncle.

Desperately, his lips search for hers but she jerks her head to the side, bites, scratches, nails burrowing into his throat. No is the word that Feyd-Rautha raps out between violent kisses that seek her pulse point with his tongue and teeth, no, she can't ever leave him, no, not ever, even if she hates him like everyone else. Her fear poisons the sweat on her neck and her nails don't egg him on, they hurt. He takes a knee to the guts and his lungs pop open for a harrowed cry.

Pain used to be pleasure but everything hurts, she doesn't love him anymore. One more meek and quiet final 'no' as he abandons the assault on her neck and his slackened arms wrap around her middle, hiding his face from rejection in her shoulder's soft flesh. Tears drip hotly, finally. All day and all night he's been waiting for the cathartic downpour, but not even the most pitiful plea could rouse a sliver of empathy in the hollow of his chest. Now he bawls like a baby forgotten in its crib and his blood-soaked hands seek purchase at the back of her shirt.

The woman grows still, nails still wedged inside the bloody crescent indents in his neck. Her lungs ache when she draws a trembling breath and Feyd-Rautha's hard, heavy chest moves with her, no more fight left in him. Quietly, she cries with him and curls her arms around his round shoulders, holding him there as he clings to her like an abandoned child and sheds tears for all the hurt and all the fear.

The man of her dreams is still there, somewhere, under the alien shell, vulnerable, weeping.

"You hate me, don't you?" A broken sob.

Looking over his head, the dead guard's viscera glitters darkly on the hallway and she is surprised to realize that even now, she doesn't hate him.

Feyd continues: "This is why I never wanted you to know who I am. I am awful."

"You're not awful," she whispers, fingers slipping around the back of his head, nails rimmed darkly by Feyd's blood.

"I have to be awful. I was born to be awful." 

"That's not true…" He was groomed to be awful.

But Feyd isn't finished. In a fashion of now or never, confessions spill out of him like poison rain. "I killed my mother when I was four. I don't remember why. I killed my pets. I kill men for sport. I kill people for fun. I kill because it's the only thing I can do. Yesterday, I-" His voice breaks. "I killed anyone I could find and no one fought back. I lo-o-ost count."

A full glass can't get any fuller when pouring more water, so shock and disgust are lost to the acceptance that has smoothed over the crescendo. They're just information to be added into a folder in her head. Feyd killed his mother. Feyd kills people for fun. Still, she holds him, fingers sliding up and down the back of his head as his shaky sobbing turns breathless and ugly.

"Okay," she whispers and rests her cheek on his head, exhaling softly so her warm breath fans his scalp. "For fun?"

"Ye-e-es."

"So, you had fun last night when you-" She swallows. "Killed?"

"No."

She lets out a thoughtful hum and Feyd's grip on the small of her back tightens. Still, he doesn't dare look at her and tears and snot have soaked her shirt. With her emotions currently defective, her ability for logic is still sharp, and so she concludes, it does all make sense.

Her poor Feyd, a current had pulled him under when he was barely a child and then layer after layer, he has been building his armor so as not to drown in the maelstrom of abuse. With every kill, a little boy has been screaming for help in an empty room.

Soft lips press a kiss to the crown of his head and Feyd's breath trembles in her hold, a beast tamed by a loving caress. That's all it takes.

Just because she understands his actions, doesn't mean she endorses them.

"Will you still be my wife?"

"I haven't decided yet." Another kiss so gentle, it taunts the corpses stacked up in the processing hall.

"So, we're no longer engaged?" 

"I don't think we ever were, not to me. But that doesn't mean I don't love you."

Dizzily, Feyd-Rautha raises himself. If not for the fingers twisted into his woman's shirt, he might just topple back into the spinning vortex at whose edge he is teetering now, one foot in heartbreak, the other in salvation. Blue eyes crack open, rimmed with dark blood vessels. She doesn't flinch, doesn't bolt, only her hands slide to the front of his suit and slip under the lapels, thumb rubbing where his heart hammers.

Feyd sees the tracks of dried tears on her cheeks and the shadow of horror tucked away in the corners of her eyes in a way that is all too familiar to him. More than anything, he wants to delete the images from her head and close the door, kick the blade under the bed, pretend it never happened. He tried to do everything right, got her flowers, hid her away in her own room away from state matters, made love to her with all his heart, but at the end of the day he is still who he is when he can't hide within a dream and it'll never be enough.

"Feyd, is… Is Lilia okay?"

"Yes, she is," comes the earnest reply and she exhales shakily, head sinking against Feyd's chest, arms sliding around his waist beneath the suit where his skin is burning hot.

"Thank God." Her voice warbles, the only warning before her knees give out and every other muscle along with them. The pair sink to the cold, hard ground.  "I just want to go home," she sobs and crawls in her beloved's lap which is still the only place in the cold, hard universe that soothes her soul.

Not her sarcophagus, although it is tempting to freeze herself up again and sleep forever. No, it is still him. A new home, not what she had imagined, but a home.

"Me too," Feyd sighs and squishes his cheek against the top of her head, closing his eyes to envision the bedroom of their shared dream, blue pillows, a white bed, a softly rustling fern in a terracotta pot, her in his arms. Home.

How easy it would be to demand of him: 'If you kill one more innocent, I will leave you!' But she might just kill more than she saves that way, and maybe him too, and maybe herself.

"Feyd, can you-" She sniffles. "If you get angry again, please never hurt Lilia. And whoever the new guard will be, don’t hurt him either. Can you do that for me please?"

"I promise." He squeezes her tight, eyes screwed up so tightly that he sees only dizzying stars. "I love you. I'm sorry."

She cannot fix the whole world, but she can start where she can see. It's not a solution, but a sapling, and a sapling can grow.

Mother Father How did I end up here, stone bound? All I feel ist the striking distance to the clouds My flesh is fettered on the skin of the soil But even so I almost reach the sparks in the void Sailing through the vacuum, am I drowned or alive?

- Cepheus by Fewjar

A/N: Okay, I promise promise this was the angstiest chapter, we're climbing uphill from here!! 🥺🥺🥺 Hand over your guesses, what do you think will happen from here? 😌💕 Thank you so much for all of your time!

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[gotham-daydreams]

Hey! I finally got my proper break from college and so read the latest part of the story. I really like how both reader and Dick have these false images of each other, because, well, they don't know each other. But, reader is completely uninterested in learning who Dick is, while Dick desperately wants to learn who reader is. I liked a lot of the imagery you used and how you gave the characters movement, it really helped with visualization. You can't help but feel a bit sorry for Dick, but for me it was in the sense the reader can't even believe he's genuine at all. But, you also realize it's his fault. The whole time I was thinking "Just tell reader it's their choice if they want to contact the family!" The best thing he could possibly do is respect her choices now and love her from a distance. At least he knows he needs to give her space now. But we all know it's not going to end there, and I am all for learning what happens next. Sorry I'm so late XD

YES!!!! YOU GET IT! YOU GET IT!

Especially as you have Dick grasping at straws while he can and has the chance to, but then the reader... well, goes on with their night. That's why I also figured that the importance of showing how they both sort of ended that night was also important - to reinforce those facts that the argument already set in place. It's exactly as you said, they both have these false images and perceptions of each other, but it's really only Dick that wants to learn who the reader actually is despite how he already sees them. While the reader is so set in how they see Dick, and becomes uncomfortable when he does or says things that break out of that little image of theirs that they've already created for him in their head.

It definitely could've gone better, and you're so right! Though in that case it also depends on the reader's reaction, but you're still completely right. If he was just willing to be a bit more patient... if any of them were, then maybe we wouldn't be here..

And really, in Chapter 4 we'll see how their own impatience not only bites them in the ass, but what position it puts the reader in.

Regardless, I'm so happy that you're looking forward to what's to come! I'm super excited to get it down and filly write it out :]

And don't worry about being 'late', it's a story! There is no such thing as 'late'... even if I'd argue that one could be early, especially for fics, but not late! LMAO

[justallihere]

aNOTHER play by play of my thoughts <3

I kid you not the entire time I was reading this the audio of Klaus saying "MOMMY ISSUES" was playing in my head

Lilith really said, "I'm going to be useful when I come to my kids by brining riders AND insert myself into the military lol"

OMG OMG DEVERA AND FELIX!!!!!

I'm assuming their mother is a particularly touchy subject between Mira and Vi (i lowkey felt uncomfortable reading their conversation in a good way but I also wanted to diffuse the situation between the two 💀 LOL) Mira needs a goddamn award. The mental gymnastics of trying to love/defend her mom but also understanding Vi's own personal feelings and her position as queen is rough

Mira telling Vi she's the favorite (likely bc she's the baby bc let's be for real here lol) Vi thinking its Brennan makes my heart break for Mira because what about her???? (No slight against Vi or B but my heart aches for Mira too, as the eldest daughter). All of them need a goddamn hug

This line HIT , when did this become a therapy session LMAO

“It’s okay if it’s not enough, and it’s also okay if you let it be enough. If you try, too,” she added pointedly, “instead of being stubborn about it. She left the country she’s dedicated her entire life to because of you.” 

Not Mira begrudgingly accepting Xaden and knowing that he's antsy as fuck w/o Vi

“Go home to your insufferable husband,” she said. “You probably stressed him out.” 

The dragons finally fucked and X and Vi had to do something about it. The spicy scene was 10/10!!!! I have so much respect for ppl who write smut well bc I can't do it LOL but what i really appreciated was the attention to detail of X getting her conduit for her so that she doesn't burn down the kingdom 💀. My exact thoughts were "wait is her mom going to know their fucking bc of the lightening" but then I didn't even need to think about that bc you HAD IT COVERED LOL

Lilith is so complex and I love her for it. I bet the room was frigid when Brennan and Lilth spoke.

Naolin was mentioned and I am SOBBING. I hope RY expands on him but idk if it will make it to canon tbh

Glad this was sorted out bc I know this was a particular fan theory that was RAMPANT. I never particularly agreed w it

“Dead?” Lilith repeated.  “The storm the day I crossed the parapet—” “I had nothing to do with that,” she interrupted. 

I am terrified and excited for what is to come Alli 😭. Again another lovely chapter that I thoroughly enjoyed from start to finish

So many mommy issues. All the mommy issues.

One thing about Lilith is that she has a purpose, and that purpose is protecting her kids, and because she's emotionally distant she'll just do things for them instead of with them.

I'm obsessed with Felix. He's such a fun character, just so much personality even though we see next to nothing of him in canon. Same with Devera! They feel the same to me in a lot ways I think.

Lilith is a touchy subject among all the Sorrengail children for sure, but definitely with Mira and Vi because Mira has spent so long trying to keep the peace between the two of them. And (in this world) Mira has been there for Violet in a maternal role a bit, so she sees the choices Lilith makes differently than Vi does and relates to them more, where Violet just sees that it's not what she needs from her mom.

This became a therapy session...somewhere around chapter 10, probably.

Idk what it is but I just love a dragon lust-fueled sex moment. Hits different, you know?

I can't believe I wrote a positive thing about Brennan Sorrengail 🤮 never happening again. Naolin is still just so intriguing though, I also hope we get to hear more about him in canon (I don't want him to be venin, I want him to be dead, to be clear).

I never particularly bought into the "Lilith tried to kill Violet on the parapet" thing either, especially once we learned about the deal she'd made with Xaden. She just loves Violet so much.

I, too, am excited and terrified for what's to come! Mostly excited!

[johnslittlespoon]

okay listen feral bikerider gale/past catching up to him/etc etc etc anon here and can I just say. thank you. I’m not overly interested in the actual violence or gang-shit or whatever. when I first read about the bikerider au all I could think about was sons of anarchy (idk if you’ve watched it, but I watched three seasons with my dad and it’s all just. gang conflict after gang conflict after gang conflict with some romance sprinkled on top and that’s not. really my thing) and I was not into it. at all. then your yapping (affectionate) converted me. hearing that it won’t be all weapon smuggling and, idk, drugs or smth is actually so reassuring lol

and!!! obviously it’s your fic/au, I’m definitely not here to try to influence you in any way whatsoever!!! I’m super excited to read it no matter what because your writing is just. lovely. I check in pretty much every morning like I’m reading the papers lmao

doing something semi-stupid in your past feels like kind of on brand for everyone, even though it might not be illegal for most. and maybe it wasn’t illegal for Gale, either, bro I am not a very good writer, I’ll leave the plotting to someone else.

but I’ll always love the idea of Gale being a little feral. or a lot feral. like John getting hurt in a bikerider au tickles my brain the same way John punching a German guard in canon centric fics does. Nevermind the guard, I just need the fallout. the angsty fallout.

John and Gale coming back home, and Gale sitting him down in the bathroom to very, very carefully patch him up (and, listen, the other guys probably just roughed him up a little. he probably got away with minor bruises and some scrapes), and Gale being insanely worried that he has scared John. John on the other hand is worried for Gale, because what if it happens again? What if the police finds out? John being worried that he somehow messed up.

and, don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t mind reading feral gale beating the shit out of people. It’s just not something I want to read a full fic of.

finally, because I just need to add this, too: Gale’s knuckles being split and bleeding and John so very carefully cleaning them up, pressing gentle kisses to the cuts when he has to scrape the dried blood up to get it properly clean. Gale not being sure what he did to deserve John, being so sweet and gentle and caring.

okay, over and out 🫡 sorry for not being that clear in the other ask, I blame. idk, sleep deprivation. and sorry for making this so long, idk what I’m on about half the time and my meds are doing shit to my brain. I love your blog and your writing just. makes my fucking days. I’d wait forever for the next chapter of dog coded Bucky ❤️

YIPPIEE more leaving!bikeriders au >:) hii i meant to get back to this SO long ago, feels like good timing now with the bikeriders theatre day approaching! i'm assuming you're the anon from this post <3

i have THOUGHTS. aka this got lengthy oops, shocker. a bit of plotting and then like 2k words of drabble below the cut lmfaoo

the proper drabble will be further down, but first of all, very big agree!! and relieved i'm not the only one who feels this way omg. i haven't watched SOA for this reason specifically– i just don't have much interest in the conflict/violence–heavy plot stuff (which is ironic considering i'm excited for the bikeriders movie, but i think it's pretty clear that's because of the lovely cast lol since i don't care for bikes/cars in the slightest oops). HONOURED that my yapping converted you tho LOL i swear if something is character focussed, it can make 99% of topics at least somewhat appealing!

and please don't worry omg i don't feel influenced/pressured etc, i loveee bouncing ideas and brainrot back and forth for my aus, it's sm fun and i love trying to incorporate things other people like/suggest when i can!! <3 but omg i will weep thank you so much wtf?? :'))

for sure; even the most stoic/'put together' characters surely have done some not very bright things in their lives. i'm toying with a couple backstories for gale to establish what might catch up to him or cause conflict, but i'm gonna wait to decide until i see the movie because i have a feeling i'll get some good inspo from benny's story!

honestly it's the part i'll have to put the most effort into really thinking out in terms of plot to make it flow naturally, because all the relationship focussed things kinda write themselves as i brainrot. but i'm 99% sure i'm gonna write the fic from john's pov because it'll keep a lot of gale a mystery to the readers as well, and therefore save me from having to flesh out certain things until necessary lmfaoo

and yeah!! it's not always the events themselves that hit the hardest– it's the fact that the character could be feral enough for them to happen in the first place, and it's the outcome/fallout that's most fun to write/read (to me).

feral gale is so fun to explore in general because of how different it is to most of what we're shown of him in mota, so it's like a challenge to keep him feeling in character while also picking out the little parts of him that could be pushed to be that way. and of course the classic whump of the one person gale cares about and tries so hard to protect getting hurt because of him? endless angst possibilities.

i dig what you said, about john 'just' being roughed up a little, because i think with whatever backstory i end up forming, it's not like the 'bad guys' are gonna be some mastermind criminals extorting gale for something life or death lol. it's probably gonna be a bunch of rough and tumble biker men with some long lasting beef between their clubs, hitting gale where they know it'll hurt the worst: a loved one.

i bet you anything (depending on how plotting goes LOL) that they don't actually even intend to mess john up to the extent they do; i bet john runs his mouth and makes some sorta escape attempt because as terrified as he is, all he can think about is how gale's gonna obviously track him down and he's more worried about what the guys are planning to do to gale when he shows up. in his naive mind, if he can get out and get to a phone or something, he can stop everything.

ofc the escape attempt is futile because it's one gangly college kid vs a couple of grown ass men, and john gets banged up in the process, seeing as being tackled to the ground with your wrists bound behind your back doesn't leave you with anything to protect your face from concrete with, and maybe then he gets a solid fist to the face to scare him out of pulling anymore shit (it sure works).

and just the act of taking john/putting him danger alone would have gale ready to wring these men out by their necks, but when he shows up and sees his baby bleeding? and he can't tell how bad he's hurt, from where he's lurking around the corner scoping out the situation? he'd see red and be pretty dang close to saying fuck it and going in there without a plan, but the fear of john getting hurt in the process would stop him, and he doesn't feel like going down for murder.

somehow he picks off the guys one by one with a generous amount of flying fists and y'know, maybe a bit of knife–work if necessary, idk, future plotting lol, and tells them they're good as dead if they pull anything like this again. that the club will be keeping an eye out for them, that they're a buncha cowards, and they can come talk to him face to face like men, next time. you get it.

and then finally, obligatory wound care ofc <3 easily top three tropes ever ugh. gale gets john the fuck out of there and to the safety of his truck, methodical and vigilant, and only then does his guarded expression drop, and his hands are shaking just as hard as john's are when he cups john's face in his hands to look him over. john gives him a shell–shocked "'m fine, gale" and hates how guilty gale looks, because there's not even the tiniest part of john that blames gale for any of it; john knew what he was getting into (to an extent) with gale.

but regardless, gale's shaken up, terrified by how much worse things could've gone and how much danger john could've been in, but also terrified of how deeply he feels for john; probably some backstory there about gale seeing someone he loved get hurt, or almost get hurt, swearing he'd never bring someone into his life again because of it, etc, and then in waltzes stubborn, loud–mouthed john egan.

but selfishly (or what he feels is selfish), gale's also terrified that this might be the final nail in the coffin for john. he knows he's not the easiest to be with (even though john thinks the exact same thing about himself lol silly boys) and he knows john's more patient than he deserves, and could find someone his own age with a normal life in a heartbeat with his sweet disposition and charming pretty boy looks. and he knows john's well within his rights to walk away from their relationship now, to be scared of the future, to decide it's too much, and part of gale would be relieved to not have to worry, even if he'd miss john like he's lost half of himself.

it's real quiet when they're back home and john's sitting on the bathroom counter, gale between his legs, patching up his face so so gently, as if each brush of a cotton swab is an apology. both of them have lots to say but neither know how to say it; john hates knowing gale's probably shouldering all the blame and he doesn't know how to reassure him in a way that'll get through to him, but he can't handle the silence. probably makes a weak joke about how "y'shoulda seen the other guy" and doesn't even get a smile out of gale.

ends up wrapping his legs around gale's hips to pull him closer but just gets a huffed out, frustrated "john" as gale swats his ankles away, and it's not that john's trying to make light of what happened, he just doesn't know how to talk about something like that, regardless of how good he and gale have gotten at communicating.

john probably gets a bit frustrated, because gale’s already so protective over him as is, which he likes, but now gale’s treating him like glass, like he’s scared to hurt him further just by touching him, and john does not like that. it feels like progress undone, like he's back at the beginning of their relationship when gale wouldn't let him in or open up to him or trust that he was capable of making his own decisions.

so when gale's done bandaging him up with practiced, meticulous hands, john doesn't give gale time to react, just slides off the counter and snatches the little first aid kit from his hands and says "okay, your turn." and it's obvious gale wants to protest, but john catches him so off guard that he stunned into silence, lets john guide him until he's leaning against the counter.

john's hands still tremble when he takes gale's hands in his, and he tries to steady them because he doesn't want gale to see how freaked out he is, but he diligently cleans away the blood around his knuckles, feeling gale's eyes on him the whole time but not looking away from his task, scared he'll shatter the moment if he does.

if he were to look up though, he'd see gale's watching him in complete awe, struck by the fiercest wave of adoration, drawing a blank while he tries to search for what he could've possibly done in this life or another to have someone like john come (crashing, stumbling, tornado–ing) into his life.

and if we wanna make it extra yowch–y and sappy and feelings heavy: as john's brushing his lips over the cuts, dusting featherlight kisses across his knuckles, john's throat goes tight and he feels his own overwhelming rush of emotions and his heart thumps and he blurts out: "i love you."

it's the first time one of them says it. and it’s a disguised i love you even so. i love you despite. i love you anyway. i love you because. months worth of reassurances wrapped into three words, and even with what john's just gone through, he's still scared when it slips out, looks up at gale with wide, searching eyes, trying to gauge whether he's overstepped or said the wrong thing.

gale's just trying to catch his breath, feeling like the wind's been knocked out of him by the admission. half of him wants to shake his head, gently push john's hands away, tell him "no you don't, hun." a tiny part of him wants to be cruel about it, to laugh the honesty off and ensure john will walk out that door far, far away from the mess that gale is, and not turn back, safe from harm.

but the other half of him, the half that holds his heart, evidently, has him cupping john's open, sincere face in his hands, looking down into bright, fearful, hopeful blue eyes, and murmuring "i love you more."

and john blushes as hard as he did the first time they'd kissed, as hard as he did the first time he was laid out in gale's bed, as if he and gale haven't said a million things much more fluster–inducing since they met. gets all shy, pouts, looks down and mumbles "that's not fair," and that finally gets the first smile out of gale all day, maybe even a breath of a laugh.

they love each other your honour </333

this got way out of hand but what else is newwww i'm so weak for these two. so so weak. i keep saying it but MAN i'm so excited to write this fic this summer omg :')

and DON'T BE SORRY!! it's so chill omg, you were perfectly clear (but i'm glad you elaborated and gave me an excuse to yap about them some more hehehe) and never apologize for long messages, i loveee reading the brainrot and hearing ur thoughts and getting to brainrot back. and thank you AGAIN sobs 😭💗 that makes MY days and ur way too kind fml. i hope the wait hasn't been too long LOL on the chapters AND a response to this ask!! tysm again mwah

[collapsedglasshouses]

An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 5]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

MASTERPOST

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

SUMMARY: Noah can't get this girl from his dreams out of his thoughts and goes to extreme lengths to clear his head... With no success.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, reckless behavior, near-death experiences, emotional distress, ...

A/N: Hello! ♡ Here is the next chapter of An Angel For Noah and we finally have something to work with. I'm so excited for your reactions. Just to let you know, I almost broke my brain while writing this. Also thanks to my boyfriend for being my co-writer. Credit goes out to collapsedboyfriend or whatever lmao. Have fun reading this chapter and let me know your thoughts! ♡

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent

If you wanna be added to the taglist of this story, please DM me or let me know in the comments!

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

“Jules.”

Noah’s simple exclaim still lingered in her ears, even days later.

Her heart had sunk when she heard him audibly sigh out her name. Her mind instantly had started to race. Why did he say her name? What was going on?

It wasn’t like she hadn’t realised how shifty Noah had gotten over the past few weeks, it all coming to a peak when she saved him from almost crashing his car, but nothing that happened made her come to the conclusion why he would know her name.

When the tour had finally kicked off, Jules nerves were on edge. Noah on the other hand seemed to finally have some rest from his thoughts. There was hardly a moment where he could reflect on the strange events that had occurred in the days leading up to the tour.

What Jules didn’t expect, was, actually liking to be on the road. When she was still alive she had been a homebody. She had loved being alone and found it rather difficult to bear the idea of ​​being away for long periods of time. But watching Noah do what he loved had impacted her somehow.

He seemed to blossom more and more with each day leading up to the tour and Jules couldn’t help but adore it. It almost felt like his feelings were washing over her.

The morning of the first tour date had arrived. The whole crew already arrived yesterday, so they had the full day to prepare everything to their liking. Jules watched Noah as he was woken up by his phone ringing.

The small hotel they stayed in was far from luxurious but it did what it was supposed to and did not blow their budget.

"Yes?" Noah rasped into his phone and ran a hand through his hair. Jules slightly tilted her head and watched him stretch his neck. If she hadn't been in the midst of a full on crisis about him stuttering her name in his sleep, she would have addressed how she couldn't deny how attractive she found him certain things he did throughout the day. One of them being his morning stretches.

"Yes, I'm wide awake, Matt. In fact, I'm about to step out of my room and get a ride to the venue." Noah lied and set on the edge of his bed. Jules rolled her eyes at him while slightly smiling. He definitely had overslept but there wasn't anything she could do but watch him hectically start his day.

When he later arrived at the venue, he was greeted by his band mates and shortly after he was completely in his element.

Until late afternoon, Jules didn't leave his side. Even stopped him from hitting his head too hard for a couple of times. Even though she would consider that day as her first constantly stressful one since becoming his guardian angel, she also couldn't stop herself from smiling all the time, when she saw how happy Noah was.

Noah's band mates were a constant source of support. Jules observed their interactions, noting the unbreakable bond that had formed over countless tours and late-night jam sessions. Their music was their lifeline, and they embraced it with a fervor that had carried them through countless challenges.

As they gathered at early evening for the soundcheck, Jules overheard their animated conversations. Ruffilo, the bassist, couldn't contain his excitement. "This is it, guys! The start of the tour! Let's give 'em a show they won't forget!"

Jolly, the guitarist, added with a grin, "And let's party like rock stars afterward!"

The concert itself had been a whirlwind of energy and emotions. Jules had watched as Noah took the stage, his powerful voice resonating through the venue. The crowd's adoration was heartwarming, their voices merging with his like it was a match made in heaven.

As the final chords of the concert had echoed through the air, Jules had seen the sweat-soaked euphoria on Noah's face. The connection he forged with the audience was a testament to the raw power of his music, a force that transcended the boundaries of the stage.

Much to Jules' dismay, Noah had taken the "party like rock stars" statement, from Jolly earlier, a tad too serious.

Around two hours later the whole crew found themselves at a party in a nearby bar, celebrating another electrifying performance. The room was filled with loud laughter, music and the clinking of glasses.

Noah and the boys, still riding the high of the concert, were at the center of it all. Noah moved through the crowd with charisma and charm, the embodiment of the rock star lifestyle, trying to hide his insecurities. His deepest inner self wanted him to retreat to his hotel room, but knowing that this was not proper, he chose rather to drown his sorrows in alcohol, among the fans and partygoers. As the night wore on, he slowly but surely felt the effect of his drinks.

Normally he would already be fully into the party action with his thoughts, but this night was different. He kept catching himself thinking about this girl. The whole day he had pushed her out of his mind but now she was more present than before. Jules. His memories of that dream lingered at the edge of his consciousness, like a whisper in the dark.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when an attractive woman joined him. It wasn't long before Noah recognized her face as one of the girls from front row. In fact, the crew had become very careful about who they invited to the after show parties, but every now and then people, often times girls with clear intentions, would sneak in. None of the guys were the kind who slept with fans, but Noah still allowed himself to flirt with one or the other from time to time. So when the woman asked him to join her for a drink, he gladly accepted, trying to get Jules of his mind.

When they set down at the bar, his gaze wandered. He glanced around, seeing his band mates and crew immersed in their own celebrations. The weight of his fame, the constant adoration of fans, and the relentless tour schedule weighed on him, and right at this moment, the temptation to escape it all was irresistible.

Drinks started to flow freely, and Noah lost track of time, the moments slipping away in a haze of laughter and intoxication. But as the night deepened, so did the weight of his choices. The memory of the girl in his dream resurfaced, like a distant melody that tugged at his heart.

Suddenly he felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen anymore. Absently, he excused himself from the woman's company, not even remembering her name, as he navigated his way through the crowd and out of the building.

He was a little dizzy when he finally breathed in some fresh air and only now did he realize how drunk he really was.

He needed to get to the hotel. When Jules saw him like that, her neck hair began to stand up. She felt like a predator carefully watching her prey as she followed the stumbling figure through the streets.

In his intoxicated state, Noah paid little attention to the world around him. As he stumbled along the dimly lit street, the traffic light ahead of him turned red. Oblivious to the rules of the road, he continued walking, the sound of his own footsteps drowned out by the sounds of the city at night.

Jules, on the other hand, saw it all unfold.

A car, its headlights glaring, raced toward Noah with terrifying speed.

Panic started to creep up her skin as she realized what disaster was about to happen. She had no time to think and with a burst of adrenaline, Jules materialized and began to run towards Noah. With full force she crashed into him and therefore got him out of the car's path.

A muffled thud was heard as the two fell to the concrete floor, Jules' arms wrapped tightly around Noah. Out of reflex she had closed her eyes and now she couldn't bear to open them, hearing Noah's heartbeat against her ear, while her ears were ringing from adrenaline.

Noah, on the other hand, felt the same way. His heart had never beaten as fast as it had right now. She had saved him. He would have run straight into a car, but the girl that clung to him like there was no tomorrow had saved him from his sure death.

As they lay sprawled on the pavement, Jules, her heart pounding, breathed a sigh of relief as tears streamed down her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face. She hadn't even realised how she began to cry.

Noah's shock was deep as he stared at her, struggling to find his voice. Despite his near-death experience and the adrenaline rushing through his body, he suddenly felt this calmness coursing through his body, as if the world had paused in this extraordinary moment.

"Never do that again, I swear to god. I'll run you over myself." Jules admonished, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and anger, as she tried to contain her cries. The realisation that she was about to loose her person, made her weep with even more force.

Noah was far too perplexed to respond, his gaze locked on her face, unwilling to let go of the security that enveloped him, when he looked at her.

Eventually, Jules pulled herself away from him, helping Noah to his feet. "Are you hurt?" she inquired, her eyes still filled with concern and tears.

Noah stared into her eyes that looked so familiar and felt almost like home to him and than slowly began to shake his head, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. As he began to regain his composure, he whispered his gratitude and scanned his surroundings. The car was gone. "Thank you for..."

But when he turned back to Jules, she had vanished into the night, leaving him standing alone on the quiet street. His confusion deepened, and he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had taken a surreal and inexplicable turn.

As he continued on his way to the hotel, the events of that night haunted him. He didn't feel a drop of alcohol in his system anymore, his ears still slightly ringing from the adrenaline. The girl who had saved him felt strangely familiar, yet he couldn't place where he had seen her before. Doubt and uncertainty gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake his confusion.

When he finally reached his hotel room, it hit him. He knew why she felt so familiar.

"Jules." he breathed out again.

Jules had saved him.

PART SIX

[mercurial-cool]

💜Ambrosia Progress Update 💜

Hello lovely Bloodweave community! Since my last post was me nearly four months ago saying that a new Ambrosia chapter would likely be coming by the end of the year (lol), I just thought I'd pop back in here to give a quick little "proof of life" post and reassure anyone still wondering that, at least in theory, it still has not been abandoned -- I just took a little time away from working on it for various reasons.

[That's the important part of what I wanted to share, but I'm inserting a cut below for some additional self-indulgent rambling for anyone who wants a bit more context.]

One reason for the hiatus was that my job got crazy towards the end of the year, which both took away from my writing time and also my BG3-playing time, making it harder to jump back in and capture the characters' voices as accurately as I felt I could when I was playing more regularly. And the other, more recent and much sillier reason is that I accidentally and unexpectedly stumbled into an obsession with Formula 1 and had some writing ideas for that fandom that my brain demanded that I act on immediately... so, if you subscribed to me for Ambrosia updates and get a notification soon that I've de-anoned 45k words of (AO3 member-locked) Formula 1 RPF, I am so sorry for the possible bait-and-switch lmao. (But congratulations to the, like, three other people who might exist with me at the center of the Venn diagram of those two fandoms haha... I'd love to know if you're out there!)

I'll admit that I've felt guilty for doing that other writing while Ambrosia was still unfinished. I've never had anything I've written come anywhere close to the level of popularity that Ambrosia has reached, and it was something I've truthfully found a little overwhelming at times. At the very least, it's prompted me to feel quite a bit more anxious and perfectionistic about whether any new chapters I put out "live up to" the bar that's been set by how much people have enjoyed the previous chapters. None of that is to diminish how unbelievably appreciative I am of the people who have taken the time to read and comment on Ambrosia -- I still read and am grateful for every single comment that comes through, even though I've done a shit job of responding to them lately (another source of no small amount of guilt).

But I think I needed to take some time to do some writing that didn't have the self-imposed pressure of quite so many eyes. And now that I've done that, I'm excited to return to Ambrosia refreshed and with a healthier perspective. I know better than to actually try and give a timeline this time around for when the next chapter might be out, but just know that I'm once again actively working on it, and I'm very excited about some of the writing that I've already completed. :)

Thank you (and/or I'm sorry) to anyone who bothered to read this far, and hope you're all doing well. <3

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Nine

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 9146 Rating: Teen Summary: Despite a messy evening which led to you waking up in an opulent hotel which you have no memory of falling asleep in, memories of kind brown eyes and breathless kisses soon come flooding back to soothe your soul. Your relationship deepens as the two of you spending time together whenever your busy schedules allow. But one night, a turn of events causes you - despite Din's reassurances - to wonder if everything you have been working so hard to build together has just come crashing down around you... Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, description of hangovers, alcohol induced memory loss resulting in brief panic and some smooching! Author's Note: This was so much fun to write, although I am teetotal now so putting myself back into the headspace of being hungover was kind of weird. I've never woken up in just a swimsuit, though... although I did once fall asleep on a box of McNuggets which I found squashed under my pillow lmao. BUT more importantly, our dear reader finally has her own nickname. Hope it was worth the wait! Also completely unintentionally, releasing this almost coincided with Lunar New Year which is fitting given some events in this chapter hehe. It's the Year of the Dragon which is meant to be very lucky! Happy New Year! 🐲 Hope you enjoyed this one. Reader and Din's relationship is really starting to develop now and I'm excited to continue editing and writing their story!

9. Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? - (Reader's POV)

The first thing that alarmed you when your eyes fluttered open was not the pounding in your head, nor your adverse reaction to the light that was streaming in from a curtain that had not been closed fully. No, it was the sheer luxuriousness of your surroundings. The hotel room was unlike anything you had ever seen before. How did you end up here? The furnishings, like the opulent chandelier in your room and the sheer scale of your bed – which was far too big for one person, an entire family could have fitted into it – made you feel intensely out of your depth. 

Then, you lifted the soft sheets that were covering you and peered down to ascertain your state of undress. The jolt of anxiety that was sent straight to your stomach when you saw what you were wearing almost sent you sprinting to the toilet because of how shocking it was, but mercifully, the sensation quickly passed. Somehow, it seemed that you had woken up in an impossibly high-class hotel, the opulent surroundings were completely alien to you, and you had never before witnessed such an embarrassment of riches. 

And to your horror, you had woken up here dressed in nothing but a swimsuit. A garment that you had no memory of dressing in…

Amongst the panic, your mind started racing with questions. You attempted to move your head off the pillow but soon groaned and your head abruptly fell back onto the impossibly soft surface. That slight movement alone had sent an excruciating shock of pain shooting somewhere behind your eyes.

As you adjusted to the various sensations as your body gradually awakened, the next thing you noticed was how your mouth felt as though it had been viciously attacked by sandpaper. Combined with the bitter taste that lingered on your lips, it only indicated one culprit: alcohol. That explained your combination of symptoms and amnesia.

You lay there for a few moments and struggled to piece together the events of the previous evening, beginning with when Din had picked you up after work. You remembered that part perfectly clearly…

* * *

Noticing the unmistakable outline of your date, complete with his dark curly brown hair, immediately made you feel calmer as you stood at the top of the steps that led you out of the museum. You began descending the stone steps, heaving your overnight bag with you as you went, before you placed your bag and weary body down on the bench next to him.

“Hi, Din,” you smiled after you finally emerged from the stunning building you were lucky to work in and took your seat by his side. You tried your best to sound far happier than you were. The last thing you wanted to do was to worry the man who had promised to take you on another incredible date. 

It seemed as though Din had been quite happy to sit there and watch the world pass him by, looking on as visitors of all ages and nationalities filed out after another busy day at the museum. So much so, that he seemed a little taken aback by your sudden presence at his side. Fortunately, his expression soon brightened and his lips curved into a smile as he greeted you. You adored the way your name sounded when Din’s voice said it, the way his mouth moved around the syllables. 

Din noticed you staring at his mouth for a beat longer than was appropriate and as he leaned in, you realised that he had read your lingering gaze on his lips as a desire to be kissed. You weren’t one to refuse and you certainly welcomed his enthusiasm as you sighed contentedly when Din’s lips met yours. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, still a little in disbelief that you got to kiss this ridiculously handsome man. It was the first genuine smile that had spread across your features all day. 

Then Din pulled away and you couldn’t help the way your face dropped back to the weary and drawn expression that you had been wearing when you sat next to Din on the bench. You averted your gaze nervously and played with the hem of your shirt, hoping that Din wouldn’t question your mood. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the plans that he had made for the two of you. You felt Din shift next to you and you looked up at him, offering a weak smile in an attempt to reassure him. 

“Are you okay?” Din asked, the concern instantly apparent in his deep, rich voice. Despite your best effort to put on a brave face, it seemed that Din knew you well enough to notice that your smile did not quite reach your tired eyes. 

“I’m fine…” you sighed and then paused. You had vowed to be as honest as possible with Din, and you knew there was no point in putting yourself through something that you didn’t want to for the sake of pleasing him. You decided to be upfront about how difficult you had found work this week, hoping that he’d understand since he seemed to have an equally demanding job.

“It’s just been kind of a hard week with work. We’re a bit understaffed at the moment and one of the managers has been putting my team under a bit more pressure than I can handle currently,” you explained as you massaged the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Din offered, “but I hope you’ll enjoy the evening I planned for us. I thought I could show you to my hotel and you could change there if you wish before we head out for dinner,” Din suggested, but you could not find it in yourself to pretend to be enthusiastic about sitting in a fancy restaurant that you would probably feel wildly out of place in. You sat there in silence, contemplating how to play it. You never wanted to lie to him, but would he accept your honesty or think you were rude?

Your inner turmoil had not gone unnoticed by the man at your side though, as before you could make a decision the comforting sound of Din’s deep voice was reverberating through your ear drums once again. 

“Unless there’s something else you’d rather do?” Din suggested, thankfully putting you out of your misery.

“Look, Din, to be honest with you: I had a terrible day,” you sighed. “I have no doubt that you have an incredible evening planned for me, but this entire week has been awful and I’m exhausted. I just… I would feel out of my depth at a fancy restaurant right now,” you admitted. The thought of pulling on fancy clothes to dine somewhere surrounded by snobs with pretentiously worded menus was causing you to feel more than a little queasy. 

“That’s completely fine with me. I’m sorry to hear you had a hard week, I don’t want to do anything that would push you out of your comfort zone,” Din said and you exhaled and visibly relaxed, all fears of disappointing him had vanished. 

“I would love to show you to this noodle bar around the corner. It isn’t fancy, no steaks wrapped in gold leaf or whatever, but it’s honestly amazing. I know the owners, they make the best dumplings and noodles you’ve ever tasted,” you suggested, hoping that Din was convinced. 

“That sounds excellent!” Din nodded enthusiastically. “Honestly, I'm not exactly at my most comfortable in places like that, either. I asked for a reservation there because I thought it was the proper thing to do when dating someone. Taking them somewhere fancy, you know.”

“Exactly! I think with the right person, you can take them anywhere and it feels like the best thing in the world. I had so much fun with you and Grogu on those stupid swings at the zoo a few weeks back, I think that’s far more ‘us’ than a fancy dinner,” you admitted and Din laughed at the memory. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would have had fun and I’m flattered you thought of me for something like that. But I’m just far more comfortable in places I’m familiar with. I can’t stand pretentious menus either, why do things always have to be drizzled in or on a bed or something? At my noodle place, you just go in, give the numbers of what you want and that’s that. No fuss.”

“Well, that sounds very low effort and relaxing. Perfect,” Din smiled at you. Your insecurity proved to once again be unfounded. “I am in complete agreement with the pretentious food menus, by the way. I’ve been exposed to a lot of them in my uh… recent line of work. Before that, I just saw food as fuel and didn’t understand how people could get so caught up in it. And I still don’t to be honest.”

“Oh, good! You know, when I heard your background, I mean… When I first walked up to greet you at the museum I thought oh great, here’s another person with more money than sense, to rent out an entire museum that has free admission,” you admitted, amused by how wrong you had been. “I knew you were different, though… especially when I saw you with a baby. Well, at first I thought you were kind of selfish because he wouldn’t even remember it! But I get it now. I get you know. We’re far more alike than I first thought…”

“We really are. But we really need to communicate better, don’t we?” Din smirked. “It seems like we’re pretty similar in preferring a quiet life and also in not doing things by the book.”

“I think so,” you smiled, grateful to have found someone who was seemingly so on your wavelength. “You don’t need to do anything extravagant, expensive or fancy for me to have a good time with you, Din. I enjoy your company regardless.”

“Thank you, that means a lot. So, noodles?” Din said as he stood to his feet and reached for your hand, pulling you up off the bench and linking arms with her as the two of you walked down the London streets towards the noodle bar.

* * * 

Your head was still pounding, your vision blurry as the opulent surroundings seemed to be swimming around your head. At least you had remembered that it had always been the plan for Din to bring you here. He had offered to spend a couple of days with you in central London, in this luxurious hotel to treat you after a hectic week of work.

With that settled, you tried your best to focus on trying to recall the events of the previous night, but the dull ache made everything far too painful to concentrate on for too long. Your memories were hazy, but amongst the white-hot pain that was pulsing behind your eyes, you thought you began to recall some things…

You remembered kind brown eyes peering at you over a table filled with noodles and later, a stroll through a park. There was a taxi at some point and lots of giggling in a hot tub. That probably accounted for the swimsuit, at the very least. And then you remembered just how wasted you had been, all of the embarrassing things you had surely said to Din. The strings of syllables came flooding back to you, words and actions that made you cringe so much that it sent a stab of terror to your queasy stomach. 

At that moment, you wanted the ground to swallow you up, fantasising about the bed you were in falling through the floors of the hotel until it was swallowed up by a gigantic sinkhole that had magically appeared in the Earth’s crust. Unfortunately, that did not happen. Things were not going to be that easy. You were an adult, you had to sit here with the consequences of letting yourself get so wrapped up in the giddiness of the reality that you were dating Din and he was treating you to a stay in such a luxurious hotel. 

The shame came in droves, the questions assaulting your fragile head from all crevices of your pain. The anxiety was almost overwhelming. What must Din think of you? You groaned. And then you panicked. Had you and Din done anything the previous night? You were that wasted, you truly couldn’t remember. 

You wondered if he was suddenly regretting inviting you here, certain that you had made an idiot of yourself and that he was now remembering the age gap between the two of you. He was a father, after all. A man with his own life and responsibilities. In comparison, you were just an immature child.

You reached your trembling hand over to your phone which was thankfully right next to you on the dark wooden nightstand. Even though you knew she would likely be asleep, you needed to rant to Ria about what an idiot you were. She would surely offer you some sympathetic words and light teasing that would cheer you up. As you grabbed your phone, the harsh white light of the screen made you groan and recoil in pain at such a violent assault on your fragile senses. 

For some reason, seeing the picture of you with Mando on your lockscreen made you feel almost tearful. Memories of a happier time when you had pushed through your fears and resembled a functional human being. You wondered what Mando would think of your behaviour, he would surely be disappointed at your lack of control. Mando seemed so certain, so deliberate in his actions and always in absolute control. You groaned, it was ridiculous to feel bad for letting down a man who didn’t even exist when there was a man in the suite next door who was real and probably disgusted at you.

Before opening your messages, there was another app that you felt yourself incapable of avoiding. Despite fearing what you would find there, you couldn’t resist opening your camera roll and looking through your photos of the previous evening, hoping that they would absolve your tortured, anguished brain of any guilt and panic that Din hated you.

The photo that stood out to you the most sent real tears spilling down your cheeks, for the real man that you saw there. It was a photo of Din that you had snapped from across the table. The location was the tiny, cosy noodle bar where you had headed at your insistence. He looked so handsome, the warm glow of the lights bathing his dark features. Din’s brown eyes practically twinkled, even through the screen. 

It was then you noticed the culprit for your current state, right there on the table. It was a bottle of baijiu, that potent beverage which had caused your temporary amnesia. With its square shape, blue label and the colourless liquid inside, it almost looked like a bottle of medicine. It had not cured any ailments though, far from that.

You stared at the picture of Din some more. Then you remembered. Oh, you remembered. The conversation came flooding back to you in vivid detail…

* * *

A warm ache settled somewhere in your stomach. The bottle of baijiu was practically empty and it had evoked a warm, fuzzy feeling in you that your date appeared to also be experiencing. You and Din sat together in the noodle shop, giggling at whatever it was that had amused you so much. Whatever it was must have been pretty funny, given the way your ribs were aching. But you couldn’t remember… baijiu had a habit of making everything equally hilarious and forgettable in equal measure.

The lethal libation had been on the house. Mrs Lau, the owner of the shop who always greeted you with a smile whenever you visited after work, had placed the bottle on the table with two glasses when she realised one of her regulars was here on a date. She grinned and wished you much happiness together. The strong, Chinese rice wine had certainly helped the two of you lose your inhibitions slightly, as you sat there in the dim light of the small restaurant, both breathless after your latest fit of giggles. 

“Diiiiiiiiin,” you sighed. “You have such a pretty face, with those big brown eyes… it’s, like, unfair,” you whined, gazing at him adoringly as you grabbed his stubbly chin and cheeks with your hands.

You noticed the way Din’s cheeks grew hot underneath your touch as he looked down at the table, blushing furiously.

“Fuuuuuuck. I’m drunk,” you observed, eyes suddenly widening in horror at your predicament.

“You certainly are, sunflower,” Din sighed, then cleared his throat as though he had not meant to let that affectionate nickname slip.

“Sunflower?! My name isn’t sunflower!” You slurred, giggling loudly.

“No, but you remind me of one,” Din admitted, shyly bringing his hand to the back of his neck.

“Because I’m awkward and wobbly?” You said theatrically flailing your arms around.

“No. Because you’re vivid, bright and you stand tall, just like a sunflower,” Din smiled at you softly, but there was a seriousness, despite the intoxicating liquor, to those soulful brown eyes, too.

“Shit, you’re so cute,” you said, placing your hands on his cheeks and squeezing the flesh there between your thumb and forefingers, like one might do to a cute baby. Except Din Djarin was not a baby. He was a grown man, one that suddenly seemed concerned for your welfare.

“Maybe we should get some fresh air and perhaps a coffee before we head to the hotel?” Din suggested, grimacing slightly after the thorough pinching you had just given his cheeks.

“I’m fine!” You said, perhaps a little too quickly for Din’s liking.

“You just admitted you’re drunk!” Din laughed, folding his arms and rolling his eyes playfully.

“A bit,” you shrugged. Then you burped. Loudly. You clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes widening in horror at your lack of decorum before exclaiming “Excuse me!”

But Din just laughed at you again. He was probably silently wondering what he was going to do with you and maybe concerned at the optics of taking someone so drunk to such a high-class establishment as the hotel that he had booked for the two of you.

“Okay, okay. Maybe I do need that coffee,” you finally conceded.

“I think so,” Din agreed, raising an eyebrow at you. 

Din stood up from the table and settled the bill with Mrs Lau. Your head was swimming and the sounds felt a little distant, but you gathered that the owner of your favourite noodle spot seemed to approve of how handsome your date was. You smiled as you heard the two of them interact, Din thanking her for the drink… even though it had rendered his date a giggling and slurring, uncoordinated mess. 

You emerged into the fading light of the warm London night, blinking slightly as your eyes adjusted to being back outside and leaving the warm glow of the restaurant behind. You laced your arm through Din’s and rested your hand on his strong, muscular arm, smiling slightly. Somewhere, deep down, there was a self-aware part of you that realised that taking care of you in your intoxicated state was probably not how Din had envisioned the evening unfolding. But you couldn’t bring yourself to feel so guilty. You felt as though you were floating through the air, not just from the liquor but from the realisation that Din was all yours. He was so breathtakingly handsome and here he was, wanting to date you. It thrilled you, sending electricity pulsing throughout your body. The knowledge that this magnetic man was attracted to you, wanting to spend time with and treat you to luxurious overnight stays in fancy hotels was a heady prospect. One that you would never stop being grateful for.

The two of you strolled through the quiet, residential North London streets, your overnight bag slung over Din’s shoulder as he insisted on carrying it, ever the gentleman he was. It was a warm summer evening and there were a few people around, enjoying their Friday evening in the city. But this was not the hustle and bustle of central London and it was pleasantly busy, rather than being overwhelming. 

Eventually, you came to a large park with plenty of space. There was a food truck still open and Din went to get you a coffee, to help you to sober up as you took a seat on an available bench, swaying slightly and grateful not to be weighed down by your bag as you wandered to the bench on unsteady legs. You looked around and waited for Din to bring the dark brown caffeinated liquid that would hopefully go some way to sobering you up…

* * *

A firm, even knocking sound at the door brought you back to the present. 

Mercifully, you did not have to torture yourself over what Din thought of you for too much longer. The comforting, soothing sound of Din’s voice sounded on the other side as he informed you it was him. Despite the initial wave of calmness that hearing his voice brought, your stomach soon dropped in anguish once again as you remembered that he was probably coming to admonish you for your actions, to tell you that you had disappointed him and embarrassed him in such opulent surroundings. That your dates had been fun but you were too much of a child for someone like him

It made your heart ache all the more when he appeared in the room, his dark brown hair slicked back and wet from the shower he had presumably just taken. He was wearing a tight, black henley and dark grey jeans. In the soft light of the sunny afternoon that was streaming in through the errant section of blinds that you had failed to close properly last night, he was truly breathtaking. His shoulders looked impossibly broad, the material of his shirt straining as it struggled to envelop his muscular frame. Din was certainly a sight for sore eyes.

“Good morning. Or afternoon, rather,” Din smiled at you as he approached your bed.

“Hi, Din,” you croaked out, mouth still dry as you struggled to look him in the eye. You opened your mouth to begin a string of profuse apologies that you were sure you owed him, but the rich sound of Din’s voice cut you off before you could manage to get a word in. 

“How’s your head?” Din asked with a slight smirk.

“I… it hurts,” you sighed, barely meeting his gaze. 

“Good job I brought you these, then,” Din offered, holding out a glass of water and a pack of painkillers. You gratefully accepted his offering.

“Thank you, Din,” you said as you appreciatively took the pills and gulped down the water. It was the greatest beverage that had ever passed your lips, you were convinced. 

“You’re welcome, it can’t be much fun,” Din said, almost wincing as he noticed your level of discomfort after making such a small effort as taking some pills.

“It isn’t,” you agreed. “But I have no sympathy for myself, this was entirely self-inflicted.”

“It was, but not without a little encouragement from Mrs Lau and me, with the baijiu,” Din smiled. “I’m glad you’re finally conscious. Mind if I sit?”

You nodded with a shy smile to where Din was pointing as he took a seat on the edge of the impossibly enormous bed. It was the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. It was almost embarrassing how vast the thing was, how luxurious the soft, silken sheets were. You felt certain that it was going to make returning to your poxy single bed in your flat tonight somewhat unbearable. Yet, equally, there was something stiff and uncomfortable about it. It didn’t feel as homely as your little bedroom. Despite the opulence, it would never hold a candle to how safe and warm you felt in your bed at the end of a long day, beneath your beloved Mando poster. 

“I’m so sorry for getting so wasted, I must have made a fool out of myself,” you said apologetically. “I don’t know what you and the other guests must think of me…” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm in embarrassment. 

“Well, you were pretty drunk,” Din sighed, and you felt your heart constrict at the hint of disappointment you were sure that you heard there. “But, I know that I’m not mad at you. Plus, I think these walls are soundproof… so I can’t imagine any of the other guests would have even realised how much you indulged in the baijiu.” Din said, reassuringly.

“But I thought we went down to the spa?” You questioned, unable to shake the memory of the hot tub that you were sure you had.

“The spa?” Din asked, confusion sweeping across his features. 

“Wait. I swear I remember a hot tub?” You asked, frantically.

“Yes, but that was here in your suite, in the bathroom. It’s a sophisticated bath with jets and some other cool features. When you realised that, you insisted that you had to get in to wash, I quote: ‘You and your clothes,’” Din recalled, raising an eyebrow at you. Thoughts of that hole in the earth’s crust that you yearned for returned. “I managed to persuade you to change into the swimsuit you had packed after I told you about the spa here. Luckily you did so and when I returned to the bathroom, you really went to town. Including splashing me until I got in alongside you,” Din said with a chuckle.

“Din… I’m so, so sorry.” You said, in disbelief.

“Don’t worry about it!” Din exclaimed. “It was honestly hilarious. I haven’t laughed like that, until my ribs hurt, for a long, long time.”

Visions of Din without his shirt on in the bathtub next to you came rushing back. Memories of breathless kisses, laughter and grazing your hand along his tanned, muscular skin. You would have felt a pang of desire, were it not for the sheer embarrassment of the fact you had behaved like such a child in front of him. Knowing that you and Din had been in such proximity in a state of undress left you with another burning question, one that you were unsure you wanted the answer to, but knew you needed to ask.

“Did we uh…” you cleared your throat slightly, unsure of how best to phrase it. “Where did you sleep?” You added, your voice barely above a whisper. 

You didn’t want to ask him directly about whether you had slept together, but fortunately, Din understood the implications of your words and you didn’t have to press him for more details. You couldn’t imagine that he would have taken advantage of you in that way. But then again, you had not known him for too long…

“After putting you to bed, I went back to my own suite and slept in there with Grogu. You were uh… pretty wasted and I didn’t want to take advantage of you,” Din said solemnly. You believed him entirely and let out a deep sigh of relief that he had behaved exactly as you would have expected. You didn’t have a way to respond with words yet, so Din moved to reassure you further. “Please, don’t be too upset or embarrassed. I’m not mad at you. I’m just glad that I had my own room so you didn’t disturb Grogu. There’s no harm done. It was a Friday night, and we both overindulged a little. I had a great night with you.”

“Thank you, but I am still mortified,” you groaned, grabbing a pillow and holding it over your face. Try as Din might to reassure you, your embarrassment was not going to dissipate that easily. 

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, sunflower,” Din smiled, using the adorable nickname he had informed you of the previous night. “Honestly, I had a great time with you. I enjoyed our meal in the little noodle bar far more than some fancy restaurant. The hot tub was fun too, I’d like to revisit it with you, now that we’re both sober…”

“Thanks, Din,” you smiled up at him, feeling significantly less embarrassed than you had when he had first entered the room.

“Plus, now that you’re sober, I did want to do….” Din leaned in and joined his lips to yours in the most gentle, almost timid, kiss. “...This,” Din whispered as he pulled away from you and rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly.

You exhaled sharply at the contact. You marvelled at his gentle touch, despite his hulking, muscular form. A muscular form that you once again remembered you had seen with your own eyes the previous evening in the bathroom, your eyes drinking him in hungrily as he had torn his soaking shirt off and swung a toned leg over to join you in the hot tub. You remembered too, the sloppy breathless kisses that you had given him as you sloshed around together in the warm waters. Clearly, Din was not mad at you. He had not taken advantage of you. Sure, he probably thought you were a little strange, but wasn’t that kind of true? And wasn’t Din himself more than a little unconventional? You tried not to panic and just let yourself enjoy the moment that was happening between the two of you.

“Din, my breath stinks!” You giggled as he pulled away from the sweet kiss.

“I don’t mind,” Din said sweetly, a smile that made the little crinkles at the edge of his eyes more pronounced. “But… Why don’t you get yourself ready and then we can think about sourcing some food? We can either go out. Or, I hear this hotel has pretty fantastic room service with all expenses charged to my company’s account…”

“Sounds perfect,” you purred like a contented cat, leaning up to kiss his stubbly cheek.

“Okay. See you soon, sunflower,” Din leaned down to give you one last kiss before he left.

You were embarrassingly giddy as he left. Not least because of how handsome he looked in the tight black henley he was wearing, which pulled at his broad shoulders and chest in all the best ways. No, you were so amazed by how comfortable you felt around him. The previous day when Din had met you outside of work, you just knew that you couldn’t face a fancy restaurant with all its pretension. So many times in your life, you would have felt terrified to vocalise your true emotions. You would have pushed aside your discomfort for the sake of satisfying others and not hurting their feelings.

Yet, the way Din had looked at you, his brown eyes regarding you as though you were the most remarkable sight in the entire world, you knew that you could vocalise how you truly felt to him. You just wanted to hang out with the man who had such kind, gentle brown eyes that had been the object of your daydreams near-constantly since the first time you had laid eyes upon him in the entrance hall of the museum. 

It seemed that Din wanted the same for you, to be comfortable and happy with him. You were communicating your feelings surprisingly well which was a change from all of your other relationships, talking about those things did not always come so naturally to you. Yet, somehow, with Din… it just did. You had just clicked with him in a way that you couldn’t quite explain. He felt thrillingly new and comfortingly familiar all at once. The way he had just spoken to you, the gentle kiss that he had given you, it was intoxicating – as intoxicating as the Chinese liquor you had overindulged in the previous evening. You didn’t want to mess this up.

You tried not to overthink what had happened between the two of you the previous night, tried not to devote too much of your energy by driving yourself crazy by trying to fill in the gaps of your memory that had been filled by the almost full bottle of champagne that you remembered drinking when you had made it to your room while Din went to check on Grogu. Drunk you did not remember things for a reason. It was better to take Din’s word for things and not stress yourself out over what had come before.

Now, you would enjoy the rest of the day in the company of the man who made your heart soar whenever you were close to him. You were determined to push those distressing, depressing thoughts about your drunken antics to the back of your mind and trust Din’s word, that he was not mad at you and that you had nothing to worry about. You couldn’t wait to brush your teeth and have a shower to hopefully feel more human before you went next door to greet your boys.

But not before you had pulled out your phone and texted Ria, though. She wouldn’t believe all that you had gotten up to… 

[ilovemando] 13:14: riaaaaaa… so i ended up in a hot tub with din last night

[thisistheslay] 13:15: BESTIE?! SPILL IT ALL RN!!

And you did. Your best friend was more convinced than ever that the man you were dating was involved with some type of organised crime. You just laughed it off. If Din was hiding such a big secret from you, then he must have been the greatest liar who ever lived.

* * *

You spent the next couple of weeks seeing Din whenever your schedules allowed. He had come to your neighbourhood a couple of times and you had had dinner together, or taken Grogu to the park. He was still slightly vague on details of where he lived and worked, but you tried not to overthink it. If he was the boss of an organised crime gang he was a very caring, sweet and handsome boss of an organised crime gang and you were not inclined to bite the hand who fed you. Din had treated you to nice meals in restaurants close by, but now you felt like it was time to repay the favour, by treating Din to dinner. 

You had never professed to be the best cook in the world, but cooking a meal for someone you loved was one of your love languages. You wanted to show your affection and appreciation for everything Din had done for you by making him a nice meal in your cosy little flat. Regardless of Din’s line of work and how lucrative it evidently was for him, he was still a long way from home. Even though you hadn’t discussed any friends and family that Din had, apart from Grogu, you were sure that he must miss them, if he even did have any. Din seemed like a naturally caring person with a lot of love to go around, it seemed impossible that he would not shower his loved ones with affection.

Din had never really talked about friends or family and you had not pushed him for details, sensing that his silence must be for a reason. Perhaps it was too painful to think about how far from home he was. So you did not broach the subject, even if you were a little curious. 

It was the main reason that you wanted to welcome him into your home and cook a nice meal for him, but it was not your only motivation. Besides that night in the hot tub, which was initiated by you while drunk, you and Din had not done much physically together yet, besides some passionate goodnight kisses outside restaurants or your flat when he had dropped you off. Things had never been able to escalate as he always needed to return home to be with Grogu. But tonight, Grogu would not be around – he was being cared for by Kuiil at Din’s cottage. It would just be the two of you in your flat. Tonight, you hoped that things would finally change.

Your meal preparations had gotten off to a shaky start once you had realised that in your haste to return from work and begin cooking, you had forgotten to pick up your favourite cheap wine and a slightly more indulgent cheese to serve with the pasta on the way home. Fortunately, you lived in an enormous city and the nearest shop was less than a two-minute walk away so you had managed to grab the missing ingredients without setting yourself behind schedule too much. It seemed a bit intense to have a to-the-minute schedule, and you supposed it was really, but you could be so scatterbrained sometimes that it seemed a necessary step for the two of you to have a nice evening together. With a detailed list of everything, you could fully relax, safe in the knowledge of when every course needed to go in the oven to be ready. It kind of felt like something from one of those awful reality shows where people took turns to host dinner parties that you watched as a guilty pleasure sometimes. Tonight, you were determined to get a 10 from Din… in every department.

Back home, you began chopping the ingredients and frying them. As you wandered back through the living room, you found yourself stopping and staring at the black screen of your TV. You marvelled at how long it had been since you had watched an episode of The Mandalorian. This was the precise occasion when you would have ordinarily had an episode on in the background. Somehow, the thought of turning it on had not even crossed your mind until now.

The show that had formerly had such a hold of your life seemed to be having diminishing influence as you spent more and more time with Din. You still talked to your internet friends every day, especially Ria, but you had found once you had started dating Din that your thoughts of Mando had slowly been replaced by daydreams of Din’s broad shoulders enveloping you in a tight embrace and the way his kind brown eyes always gazed at you so adoringly. It was probably a positive change, you mused. Living in the real world was undoubtedly healthier than the fantasy world you had occupied with Mando. Nonetheless, you were sure that as soon as the first trailer for the third season dropped, you would return to the height of your Mandalorian obsession. Perhaps you would have even discovered Din’s feelings towards the show then and the two of you could watch it together, cuddled up on your couch. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine as you cooked, sipped it slowly and savoured the fruity flavour as you simmered the sauce. You had cheated slightly, with store-bought garlic ciabatta to start with and tiramisu for dessert. But it had been a long week of work after all and you wanted to be able to spend time with Din once he arrived. You looked at your watch and realised that it wouldn’t be long until he arrived, so you hastily got yourself ready to welcome him, practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of finally having some alone time with the handsome man you were dating.

You were checking yourself over one last time in the mirror, making sure that you were happy with your hair and make-up, when your eyes widened in horror. There were the Mando figures on your dresser in your room that you did not want Din to see. You strode across the room, opened the top drawer and swept them in there with your arm, out of sight. You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that you had spotted them. You weren’t sure what Din would think if he saw that you had figures, perhaps he’d think you childish. There was your poster too, hanging above your bed, but there was nothing you could do about that. You were less embarrassed about that too, it featured art from the first season which was tasteful and not too immature. Din probably wouldn’t even notice it, given that he was apparently not a fan of the show.

You returned to the kitchen and continued cooking, with one eye frequently drifting to the clock on your oven, counting down the minutes until Din would be with you. You had told him to come at seven p.m. and sure enough, at seven on the dot, there was a knock at the door. You checked your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your hair and shirt slightly, wanting to look your best for Din as always. Then you practically galloped down the hall, towards the door.

“How long have you been standing there?” You asked with a laugh after you had excitedly flung the door open. His timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.

“Five minutes. Didn’t want to freak you out by being early, but didn’t want to be fashionably late because I couldn’t wait to see you,” Din replied as he entered your flat. He placed his arms around your waist and kissed you passionately, you groaned in response, having missed the sensation of his lips on yours after not seeing him for a few days. 

Once you were released from his embrace you were able to take in his outfit choice. You approved of it completely. Din was wearing a light blue button-down shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders due to its form-fitting cut and tight black trousers that showed off his muscular legs perfectly. Somehow, despite the tight embrace that he had enveloped you in, you now noticed that he was also holding what seemed to be an expensive bottle of red wine in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other. You noticed, with a smile, that the flowers he was holding were sunflowers. He was the sweetest man in the world, you were convinced.

“I brought you these,” Din smiled, shyly holding up the bottle and sunflowers so you could get a proper look at them.

“Thank you, Din,” you replied, placing a kiss on his cheek as you took the sunflowers and placed your nose against the soft petals, inhaling deeply. They smelled gorgeous and you were so grateful for how thoughtful he was.

“You look stunning, by the way,” Din complimented you, making a point of trailing his eyes up and down your body so you could see how much he appreciated your outfit.

You weren’t used to going out of your way to make yourself look nice, especially not on a Friday night after a long week of work. Yet you had found that you actually appreciated the routine, that little bit of time you had taken to make yourself look and more importantly feel good. Din certainly seemed to appreciate the effort you had made, given the way he was gazing at you, warm brown eyes darkening with desire. If you didn’t return to the kitchen soon, it seemed that things might escalate before you could serve the meal you had devoted so much effort to. 

“Thank you for the flowers,” you replied as you took the sunflowers and hunted for a vase to place them in. They would be the perfect centrepiece for the small table in front of the window in your kitchen that you and Din would sit at to enjoy your meal.

“You’re welcome, sunflower,” Din smiled, using your nickname freely now, no longer embarrassed after the way he had blurted it out in the noodle shop that evening when you had both indulged in perhaps a little too much baijiu. 

Din followed you into the kitchen as you successfully found a vase and filled it with some water, before placing it in the centre of the table where you would eat. Then you flipped the switch on the kettle so it would boil for the pasta and fished out a pair of glasses for the cheap wine that you had already enjoyed one glass of. It would allow you to chill the bottle Din had brought in the fridge while you made a start on the first bottle.

“You know, you kind of look like that actor who advertises this wine,” you observed as you poured Din a glass, reasoning that you should start with the cheap wine you had bought and work your way up to the nicer, more expensive bottle that Din had brought, to be savoured with your meal. 

“Everyone says that, but I can’t see it myself,” Din said with a small pout.

“Really?” You said in surprise. “Seriously, you do. It’s kind of uncanny, actually.”

“Hmmmm, whatever. I think I’m more handsome though,” Din said, raising an eyebrow as he took the first sip of the wine. You thought you saw him wince slightly at how it burned a little, which seemed a little ridiculous after the strength of the alcohol that you had observed Din drink like it was nothing back at the noodle bar.

“You are,” you smiled adoringly at him from across the kitchen.

It was time to salt the water and put the pasta on. You had thought Din might relax in the front room while you cooked, but you were mistaken. The man seemed perfectly happy to just exist in your orbit as you pottered around the kitchen, making the dinner that the two of you would soon share. It was comforting how much the two of you were at ease in each other’s presence, despite the short amount of time you had known each other. It was hard to believe that it had been a matter of weeks, rather than several months, since you had met Din on that fateful night in the museum, it felt as though you had known him for much longer. Din and Grogu had wormed their way into your heart with alarming quickness.

Later, after finishing your meal – which Din had assured you was delicious – you sighed in contentment as you cuddled up to Din on your couch. The two of you were watching a cheesy rom-com that had been suggested to you on Netflix. Well, watching was an overstatement. You soon lost track of what was going on in the movie. Din’s lips had proved more entertaining to you than the same old rehashed romance movie. You moaned softly as his tongue explored your mouth, his hand cupping the side of your jaw while another rested on the back of your head, the two of you wrapped in a tight embrace. Din’s kisses were rendering you more and more breathless with their increasing neediness, and it was difficult to find a comfortable position on the sofa without sacrificing the closeness that the two of you ached to feel. You decided that it would be best to take this elsewhere. If Din was up for it, of course. 

“Do you want to take this to my room?” You panted, breath hot against the shell of his ear. You had surprised even yourself with your boldness, but Din was seemingly waiting for you to make the first move.

“Show me the way,” Din whispered, his brown eyes dark with lust as he met your gaze.

You stood up from the couch on trembling legs and offered him an equally shaky hand, which Din gladly took. You helped him to his feet, admiring the size of his hand against your own. You were constantly stunned by how impossibly large Din seemed compared to you, with his broad shoulders and looming presence… you wondered if that was true of every part of him. Mercifully, it was a short walk down the hall to your room, where you hoped you would finally have your questions answered. 

“Din, please,” you whined, you wanted him badly as you had barely pulled him into your bedroom before his lips were on yours again.

Your kisses continued for a few more seconds before you found yourself taking the lead somewhat, pushing him against your bedroom door as you kissed him ardently. Despite how much bigger and stronger he was than you, Din seemed more than happy for you to take control like that. You placed your hands underneath his shirt, moving them across his muscular abdomen, admiring how firm yet soft the skin you felt was there. You began to wonder about removing clothes and leading Din to where you had always wanted him to end up since the first moment you ever saw him, your bed. 

But then everything changed.

The moment that had been developing as a simmering heat between you and Din, that tension that had been apparent since he had first walked through your door earlier didn’t just stop in its tracks. It derailed into a ball of fire. 

Your heart sank as you felt Din stiffen all around you and break away from the kiss. You felt terrible, clearly running your hands across his skin like that had been a step too far. But your guilt turned to confusion as you noticed the way his eyes were fixated on a spot somewhere over your shoulder. It was as if Din had suddenly seen a ghost. He pulled away from you immediately, standing to his full height. 

You felt incredibly small and unimportant; suddenly he had gone from looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world to not even being able to look you in the eye. Was this too much, too soon? Or was he just not that into you?

“I’m sorry, did I push you too far?” You said, awkwardly. You felt mortified that you had presumed something that he clearly didn’t want, despite how passionately Din had been kissing you, only a few seconds ago.

“I just… I can’t do this…” Din said, closing his eyes and swallowing deeply, refusing to look at you.

“Din, I’m sorry,” you said, eyes filling with tears. “If you aren’t attracted to me, I get it, I’m so sorry if I was forcing you to do something that you didn’t want.”

“No, not at all!” Din exclaimed, a look of horror in his eyes as he placed his hand under your chin and tilted it up towards him. “You are beautiful. So gorgeous, so funny, so intelligent. I don’t know what’s up with me. Maybe it was the wine… I just…” Din sighed. There was more that he wanted to say, but for some reason, he was holding something back from you.

“Okay, Din,” you said quietly, still unconvinced by his response.

“Look, sunflower, I really messed this up and made things horrifically awkward. It’s nothing you have done, nothing at all. The time I’ve spent getting to know you recently, it’s the happiest I’ve felt for years. Will you please let me make it up to you, maybe come and visit me and Grogu next weekend? I promise I’ll get a handle on things. I promise it’s nothing you’ve done.”

“I’d like that.” You nodded.

“Good,” Din whispered as he leaned down to kiss you softly again. “Please don’t ever doubt how attracted I am to you. You’re beautiful. I had the best time tonight. I love spending time with you, this kind of intimacy is just… it’s new for me, I suppose,” Din sighed in frustration. “I really am sorry about ruining our night.”

“It’s okay, Din. It’s new for me too… or well, I’m out of practice I guess,” you confessed. The most romance you had had for a few years longer than you’d like to admit came in the form of fanfiction, which made the prospect of having a man that you were incredibly attracted to right here in your room suddenly somewhat terrifying, now that the moment had passed.

“I should probably go, I know I was planning to stay a little later but I’m needed on s– uh… at work – early in the morning, anyway,” Din informed you. It sounded as though he was going to say something different than he was just going to be at work, but he had corrected in time and you hadn’t quite caught what he meant.

“That’s fine, Din. Thank you for the flowers and the wonderful evening. I really enjoyed having you over,” you smiled at him, cupping his chin in your hands again.

“Thank you for having me,” Din smiled, kissing you softly.

You walked to the door, hand in hand. Din said he would head downstairs and call his driver. The fact that he had an entire driver at his beck and call and could take a ride whenever he desired was still slightly absurd to you. But you were mostly done with being surprised by the embarrassment of riches that were at Din’s disposal. After all, you were rarely reminded of his financial situation when you spent time with him. Despite everything, Din was still incredibly humble and down to earth. So unlike snooty members of the aristocracy that you had unfortunately encountered several times at work.

“See you at the weekend,” you smiled as you leaned in for one last kiss.

“Goodnight, sunflower,” Din replied. Then he was gone.

As you cleaned the dishes from the dinner party you had to deem it a success, despite whatever had overcome Din in your bedroom. You vowed not to overthink it, you know he wouldn’t want you to do that. He had made it perfectly clear that he was attracted to you. You were excited for the following weekend when he would let you into his life a little more by inviting you to his house. It was a very sweet gesture from him, a sign that he was loosening up a little.

With the dishes washed and stacked, it was time to get ready for bed. As you went about your nightly routine, you found your mind wandering to the warm skin that you had felt beneath Din’s shirt and the way his eyes had darkened with appreciation at the sight of you when he had first walked through the door. 

You pushed the door open to your bedroom and glanced at the poster of The Mandalorian which hung above your bed. You sighed as you shut the door and mourned at how you had been so close to finally ending up in bed with Din. Although you mused, perhaps it was for the best that your first intimate encounter would not be underneath Mando’s steely, unrelenting gaze…

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[mochiwrites]

Hihi Mochi you want people to continue sharing songbird insanity with you?

I love it so much, and I eagerly waiting in anticipation for the next chapter of good intentions because HOW ARE THEY GONNA GET OUT OF THERE ALIVE??? Grian coming in clutch mayhaps cause he's lived his whole life without magic. Just don't get hurt again Grian I don't think I can handle anymore guilt.

Cleo as Fae King is so beautiful <3333 I had been hoping it would be them and I screamed in excitement when I saw their name on the page.

Fwhip is a little genius spooky man sneaking in like that. I love the way you're written him this far.

Also Doc <33 the way he just covered for Grian and accepted that eh was undercover but went "👀 okay but you're explaining this to me later" dad vibes. I hope mans doesn't get hurt I don't think I could handle Mumbo's sadness if that Happens /dramatic

Also unrelated to good intentions itself but I love Tubbo and Scar's relationship in songbird's blood and I'm also feeling for Tubbo so hard after finding out that actually hey your dad isn't a human also the supernatural exists and ALSO not only is your dad not human he KILLS people and is THE Grim Reaper.

Also also will Tubbo ever meet Bdubs, the moss man living in his basement? :3

Also Mumbo, Grian and Scar <333 three lonely men in three different ways and they're all coming Together and even though they've got a lot of hurdles to go through they're finding their way to each other. Mumbo and Grian constantly holding hands also makes me so giddy /pos

hehehe yes. YESSSSS >:3c

I have so much lined up in this next chapter that’s MMMMMMMM very tasty. very !!!!!!!!! the idea of the characters not being able to use magic is SUCH a fun idea to me because now they have to be ✨creative✨ about how they handle this. and it’s so exciting because we really are all sitting here like “crap how DO they get out of this???” I’m so excited

I love cleo as fae king for SO many different reasons. all of which I cannot say because spoilers </3 but 🥺 hehe I’m glad I could deliver on the excitement :D

WAHHHHH TY ;w; I don’t have too much experience with fwhip’s character outside of like. seeing him in sausage’s pov in empires. so I’m running with nothing but vibes and a dream LMAO. but ough his character in this upcoming chapter is <3333 he’s got some lines that I think everyone will be so normal about mhm mhm

I’m so glad the dad vibes for doc are coming through SKCKDKCKFK he’s honestly so fun to write emfkdkfk esp with him just accepting grian is under cover So easily like he did. I’m sure he’ll be fine though :>

TUBBO AND SCAR’S DYNAMIC MAKES ME CRY WAHHHHHHH. I have some stuff set up for them in this arc that I’m ;-; about. fr wanna hold tubbo so gently in my hands—his entire world got flipped upside down :( and things are only about to get crazier </3

he technically already has met bdubs :D prior to canon actually starting. but who knows…. Maybe we’ll see them interacting :3c

just in general the three of me make me so :(((( they’re all dealing with their own form of loneliness and wahhhhhh. somehow they all end up gravitating toward one another 🥺 things are. Going to get Tough for them in this arc but they’ll be stronger for it <3

[celestie0]

Hii! This is my first time messaging any fanfic author (I'm an extremely anxious person and tend to be more of a lurker LOL) I'm so sorry but this might be a long one lmfao

First of all, the way you write in general? Absolutely phenomenal!! The way you characterise and describe scenes is honestly so incredibly immersing. I've always had a relatively easy time imagining scenes in my head when reading, even with relatively little detail, but the way you word everything puts the scene straight into my head and it's such a wonderful experience!

Your characterisation of Gojo (in all your works!!) is probably my absolute favourite out of any fanfics I've read of him (trust me I've read an embarrassing amount :sob:). The way you actually capture what he feels like in canon, without making him feel super mean or cold, but still retaining that side of being emotionally repressed is absolutely chefs kiss!!

I also really love y/n in both kickoff and ihm so much. I relate to both of them in different ways, but probably more so ihm reader personality wise (might also be because I'm around the same age as her lmao). As someone who is very emotionally repressed due to trauma (especially of loved ones leaving you), the way you've portrayed those sides of reader in ihm is VERY spot on!! And I would like to add that I, for one, LOVE slow burn, so I don't mind the pace ihm is going at right now personally!

Chapter 12 of Kickoff?!?!? Holy shit I was literally sat there blushing, kicking my feet and giggling. It was absolutely hilarious and super cliché in the absolutely best way possible (I absolutely love clichés if they're well used!)

I could honestly wait years for anything you write. Never feel any pressure to churn out your writing and take it at your own pace!! My genuine first thought after finishing the latest chapter of Kickoff was that it was sooo worth the wait haha.

Personally I have an extremely hard time writing anything but angst, because I like making myself sad I guess who knows LOL But I'm sooo excited about your next work!! I absolutely love the song you're basing it off of <3

AND did I also see some talk about a potential Spider-man Gojo fic in the future??? Cos I would honestly probably scream (in a good way lol) if you ever did that, he's my alltime favourite superhero!!

Okok this is getting really long, but I found this photo of four football players a bit ago and thought I absolutely HAD to draw them as Gojo, Geto, Choso and Nanami from Kickoff (adding the art at the bottom)! But I haven't gotten around to colouring it yet (or cleaning it up considering it's just a sketch lmaoo) cos I'm stuck on how to do the jerseys. So I have two questions! I know you've explained the colours of their jerseys, but do you have any particular idea in mind of what the design on the jersey itself looks like? As in where the colours are placed specifically etc? And we know Gojo's signature jersey number, but do you have numbers for the rest of them too? (I may or may not also have a wip of a drawing of just Gojo from Kickoff too!)

I'm sorry there's A LOT of different plot points in my message??? The most important part was just to convey, hey, I love the way you write and you should definitely give yourself some more credit cos you are genuinely a really good writer!! <3 (Though I know us artists tend to be our own worst critics LOL)

hi love i’m so sorry this took me a sec to respond to!! first off thanks you so much for sending me such a sweet ask :’’’) i literally gaspeddd when i saw it

aaa i’m so happy the scenes feel immersive!! and that you enjoy my characterization of gojo aaa i’m so happy to hear that. and yes i totally relate to ihm reader’s suppression of her emotions due to trauma and lack of trust so it’s been very…cathartic yet challenging to write for her, but i wouldn’t have it any other way hahah

i’m so glad you enjoyed kickoff ch12!! i totally agree that chapter was so cliche, honestly it made me cringe while i was writing it because i typically hate cliches esp when they’re corny rather than on-the-nose, but i posted it anyways bc i figured maybe i just hate it bc i’m the author xd but it seems my readers enjoyed it so :’’0 perhaps i made the right choice

oh you are too kind. i really appreciate you looking out for me <3 tbh i’ve been feeling really overwhelmed lately, and it’s been really hard to deal with the emotions, but coming on here and seeing sweet works n ppl interacting w my stories brings me lots of happiness n i can’t thank you enough :’’) yes i will definitely take my time bahahha that i can assure you LOL and i’m so happy to know you’re looking forward to more of my works!! you’re so right about artists/authors being our own worst critics. i swear no one has been as mean to my writing as i have LMFAOOO but alas i think i’ve gotten better in trusting my direction n kinda choosing what i think is best soooo. progress i suppose? hahah

ok. now. i can talk about. THE ART?!?!?!?!? HELLO!!!!!!! OH MY GODD?!?!!?!?! ok i KNOWWW that’s it’s just a sketch so far but tell me whERE MY PANTIES HAVE GONE?!?!?!? WHERE MY CLOTHES ARE AT?!?!??!

the expression on kickoff gojo’s face has me reeling he looks so focused n sexy and THE HEADBAND PUSHING HIS HAIR UP OUT OF HIS FACE YES YES YES 100% THAT’S HOW I PICTURE IT WHEN I WRITE AAA and kickoff geto’s expression too pls i could cum (sorry i hope this isn’t weird to say lmfaooo i am also very respectfully looking at your artwork as well aaa) nanami’s hair looks so nice too

as for the uniforms hmm i know i said like gold and blue colors, i believe actual real-life UTOKYO has more of a yellowish color but i actually like gold better hence why i chose gold. but…i can imagine the whole jersey being blue and then with gold accents then white numbering?

here are some options!! like w the first one, probs sky blue fabric with the white stripes as gold instead, and then the numbers/brand sponsors or whatever are in white? they would probs have like “UTOKYO” in large print somewhere too, maybe underneath their numbers or sumn. tbh i think the middle one is the nicest, i can picture the stripes of blue and gold, and then accents in white. but the third one also works too!!

as for numbers hmm. ok yes gojo is #10, geto is #7, choso is #4 and nanami is #24 :0 that sounds…about right! LOL i hope i don’t have it somewhere in the other chapters that they are different numbers although i don’t think i’ve assigned the other boys numbers before

BUT I HOPE THIS HELPS AND THANKS SOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH FOR DRAWING FANART INSPIRED BY MY FIC!!!! I AM SO HUMBLED BY YOU AND I’M SOOOO EXCITED TO SEE THE FINAL DRAWING BUT ALSO NO PRESSURE AAAAAAAA

so much loveee <333

[pinkrelish]

hey alyson, i have a question! will the title of the story The Yes Policy be referenced in upcoming chapters, or has it lost relevance and is it just about our reader and eddie learning how to be in a relationship together? i love love loved how at the start of the story the policy seemed a huge part of reader's life, but it seems that it now no longer is? just curious!! i fucking love your writing, keep up the amazing work xox

in part, it's because there's less fun opportunities for her to say yes to things in hawkins as she spends her evenings with robin's parents, versus being surrounded by nightlife and outgoing friends in new york, but i don't feel like it's lost relevancy? though, yes, the weight and intentionality behind the choices she's presented have changed for her narrative as she settles into a routine in a rural town, and falls into a stable relationship. more subtley, her lifestyle is trickled throughout the scenes where she's telling other people about past bad dates, or her improv is brought up for comedic effect, etc, but they're there.

the policy itself will be referenced overtly two more times that i can think of, but eddie still teases her about it just a chapter ago:

or the DND chapter:

so, it's relevant to him, too.

this is a very long story with two (well, three) people at the focus of it. eddie asking her out via the policy was a big moment for him. and without taking away screen time for them to develop a meaningful bond, there's not a lot of "fun" ways to incorporate her saying yes to things without derailing for a subplot that i'm not as excited to write, and would probably involve other characters, not eddie.

after establishing her as a character in the first chapters, it was time to move on and unravel their romance, and leave those funner backstory moments to passing sentences.

maybe the story isn't as entertaining now, but neither is her life. she's slowed down, and is considering her future for once. maybe there are creative ways to bring the excitement from the first few whirlwind chapters back, but those might serve better as oneshots. for now the main storyline hinges on life's bigger questions, and she has bigger choices to make that will impact her (and eddie's and adrie's) future, and she's not making those decisions lightly. (...after these next three lighthearted smutfest chapters).

i will say she was supposed to have (or get) a tattoo at one point, because obviously someone who says yes to everything would have one, but i took that part out since because it felt weird with a reader insert lmao.

[miela]

Dear Reader

Hey, Hey, Heeeeeeyyyyy

Long time no update, eh? I hope you're all doing well! Let me know down in the comments I miss all of you truly.

Let's get this out of the way: No, I'm not here to tell you that I won't be continuing the fic. I certainly am going to. Really I just wanted to give you guys updates on what's going on and why my hiatus took 7 plus months unexpectedly. I won't go into the nitty gritty details of it all but I will give a general idea because it may result in other hiatuses (I’m working around trying to find a way to prevent that though).

Firstly, I have been dealing with chronic pain for the past few months. I feel it in my back, knees, neck and hands mostly. Which you can imagine, prevents me from typing, drawing or doing much of anything as much as I would like to. At most I can properly type a few paragraphs at a time before my fingers want to give out. Regarding my hands, I have no idea where this stems from (certainly not me cracking my knuckles as a teenager, not that can’t be it…), but I’m doing different things and exercises that have been helping me. For the rest of my body, I couldn’t tell you but I’m working on doing better health practices to keep myself functioning.

Secondly, I’m a uni graduate (yay). And I have been STRUGGLING at finding a job in this post-pandemic economy. I’m not even gonna go into the absolute outrage I feel about this. Either way, I got a small job at a cafe that lasted a month and it put me in such a depressive state that I just recently was able to pull myself out of it (it was seriously THAT BAD, guys). And on top of that I’ve been feeling like a failure for not being able to find a job in my field. Either way, I’m in my Miles Morales era and doing my own thing.

There’s more to it but those are the main ones. I have been thinking about this story NON-STOP so don’t worry I haven’t given up on it. I promise I will be back. I’m going to be writing, but I probably will be updating slower than usual. I want to improve in my writing and make sure the chapters are the best they can be for you guys to enjoy (literally I was reading Manacled and Crimson Rivers and the writing is soooo good that I was mad at myself for not being at that level even if I did have a decade long writer’s block LMAO). If you sent in any request for me to write, I haven’t abandoned you guys either! Don’t worry! I SEE YOU! I will give you your requests!

Speaking of, I am planning my next fic (literally ignore my trello I have to organize it honestly). It’s going to be Marauders Era one. I have a few ideas of what I want to do but I am excited to write it! More OCs to come! (Disclaimer: FUCK JKR, Let’s all steal the wizarding world and make it lgbtqia+ AF). 

Anyways, I didn’t say all this to gain pity. Please don’t pity me. I just wanted to keep you all updated on what's going on. 

It’s good to be back! I missed all of you. 

(Literally i'm such an asshole for leaving ya'll on a cliffhanger like that. I am SO SORRY. Literally tf is wrong with me fr.)

Tags:

@i-love-mommy-wanda @riordanness @peterdarlingg @thecrystalclarity @brckenmemories @paleprincesssxo @blackcanary130 @kindlover @i-have-no-life-charlie @melodicheauxxlovesfood @hufflepuff-n-fluff

[desceros]

How do you feel so motivated to write all the time? I have a fic of my own that I’ve been working on for a few months and have been posting but I’ve lost all the momentum I once had for it and only have 3 chapters left that I need to write. Whenever I sit down to write it I can never seem to put more than a few words down before I either work on something newer or just give up for the day. Sorry for the small vent I’m just trying to find ways to get back to it 💜💜💜💜

oh, that's easy—i don't! i have really, really bad adhd. motivation isn't something i can count on for, uh, literally anything lmao. which is bad for, like, eating and sleeping with any sense of regularity, but good in terms of me having learned how to do stuff i wanna do without motivation!

the first thing is consistency. i try really really hard to write every day, even if it's only a little. i have a folder in my icloud for daily exercises, and that's where i write little 500-1000 word snippets if i don't have a proper fic or novel that i'm working on. it's just a single scenario, single blip kind of thing. This has made it so that my brain expects me to write, every day, even when i'm not particularly motivated by one plot or another. though don't beat yourself up if you don't write in a day. that's pretty hard for me, but it's very important!

second, kind of part of the first, is that i have a time set aside every day to write. it's actually first thing in the morning when i wake up, because i'm super excited to do it and it gets me out of bed like nothing else!! i don't check my phone, i don't think about work, none of that. i just roll out of bed and sit down at my computer and start writing. because i have a specific time for it, it's very easy for me to go oh. well this is my writing time. the time for writing. i shall go and write now.

third is to have lots of different things that you're very excited about. i'll usually have three or four ideas bouncing around in my head at one time, because it makes me think 'oh i need to finish x so i can get to y', just in case x ever gets too boring for me. but also—don't be afraid to switch projects! if something isn't meshing, don't force it. you'll grow to resent it, and yourself for not being able to create, and that negativity isn't conducive to a fun time. i like to have at least two things that i'm actively working on that are very different in tone. this way, i can bounce back and forth as needed if something isn't vibing one day for whatever reason.

fourth is to kinda... trick yourself a little. if i'm working on a long project and i need to stop for anything longer than getting another cup of coffee, i stop in the middle of a scene—but, very specifically, a scene in which i know what the next step is going to be. sometimes, i'll even go down a line and put what the next action is, if it's really gonna be a while. that way, the next time i come back to it, i reread the scene, and by the time i get to the place where i'm supposed to start writing again, the flow is there. it's much easier to pick up in media res vs having to start a new section.

so yeah. motivation is fake, don't ever trust it, come up with a system that makes it so you never have to count on it ever again!

[sanddusted-wisteria]

An update on my fics

hey wow it's been 4 months

Nearly six months on both longfics lmao. I've been busy and will continue to be busy, unfortunately. Grad school is a different beast entirely to undergrad (be careful taking 3 grad classes in a semester. 2 heavy ones can really make you regret it), I need to prepare for job interviews and PhD program applications, and this summer I've been wrangling an internship and research work.

Even so tho, my MTAS brainrot is far from dead. It takes a lot of time and effort, but I still have a lot I want to do with the My Time verse and my OCs, both art and fic. So here's a quick update on where I am and what the plan is with my fics and fic series going forward, and some previews of what I have so far (on a separate post bc this one's already too long lmao)!

TL;DR: busy, but still writing! WIP snippets on the next post.

[Long post and rambling belowwwwww]

Earth and Sky

Currently my primary focus. E&S has evolved a TON since I decided to rewrite it. How much? Well...

[Drafting = first draft is in progress; Revising = draft is plot-complete, set aside for future editing passes]

In fact, I haven't even outlined the ending chapters since I recently had a change of heart in the kind of resolution I wanted. I got stuck on it enough that I decided to forego outlining anything for now and playing that one more by ear. I think any more time I spend tweaking these outlines might put me off this fic altogether :P

As someone that started writing with nameless/generic builders, writing for an OC is a different kind of challenge. I'm working to try and strike a good balance of focus on Wis vs Qi vs them together, and making Wis a very human, if not enjoyable character. Still, I think that this is one of those projects that if I can get right, it will be VERY right. It'll just take a bit to get there first :>

At minimum, I'll wait until most if not all of the chapters in the first third/quarter are done (chapters 1-16) to start posting, though hopefully I'll also have a solid idea for how some of the later chapters will go as well. Those are the really (internal) conflict-heavy chapters and I want to make sure it won't come out as shallow :P But I am excited to show you what I've got cooking!

A Cosmic Garden

This is the broader series for Wis and Qi. E&S will be the biggest fic, but it only goes up to a little beyond MTAS's Act 2. Beyond that, my plan is to write some side stories that go into Wis's Lore(tm), namely her origins as an Old World clone and her interactions with other Wis clones around the Alliance.

Why side stories? Well, a) any plot involving Wis as a clone is relatively spread out across the timeline of MTAS's story, since it's actually not that closely tied to her "main" storyline (being the first clone I made when the clone story was just kind of just a bullet point on their lore descriptions, it's less involved), b) it therefore doesn't really affect the story of how she and Qi get together, and c) I know that people might be far more interested in just the romance story with Qi (which is totally okay! I understand, I'm pretty much in the same camp with OC-centric stories a lot :P)

As for the equivalent of MTAS's Act 3, this won't be one cohesive fic, but a small series of smaller stories, since I don't really have too many ideas for a fully fleshed out telling of Act 3 that doesn't just walk through the main missions without much deviating from that. Some of those stories include:

A series of conversations between Qi and Miguel post Act 2

A Nia/Mi-an story

A silly little oneshot of Qi and Rosie interacting (tentative)

The original idea that Strangeness and Charm sprouted from; Wis and Qi conducting a methodical study on non-sexual intimacy (tentative)

The finale of the MTAS main story

A Builder, a Researcher, and a Rooftop

Currently on pause. For now, there's just too much OC brainrot for fics and on OTAS that I just need to get out. Don't worry! I'm absolutely not abandoning this one. I just can only really focus on one big project at a time lol. We're close to the end of this story's act 2, though not much of the remainder is written. In fact, chapter 34 is already done, but not chapter 33, so I can't quite post it yet. I think after I get the first part of E&S done (or I suppose whenever I feel like picking it up), I'll switch gears to at least get to the end of Act 2. Act 3 will need some reevaluation...I've hemmed and hawed over it forever, but I do want to finalize the plot for that one, and also potentially get started on that as well.

Others

To the...5 people that read my Grace/Wis miniseries, I really do still want to get that done a;sdlasdralsdrkj It's been hard since my thoughts on how Grace and Wis interact after Act 2 have changed a lot. But even so, I hate to leave it hanging there, so I've started working on it again. It's already outlined, I just need to get it filled in.

Someday I should come back to Quiet Moments in Sandrock... My art's gotten a ton better since then and there's a few ideas I still have leftover that I never got to. Unfortunately I need to make room for it somewhere in the 13438525 other art ideas I have that I can only do like 1 per week at MOST asdlrkasdasdrjksdrj

Sitting on the back burner forever in my writing folder is a fusion of Junji Ito's Uzumaki and MTAS... An MTAS version of Uzumaki's story works SURPRISINGLY well, and Wis and Qi I think make for stronger protagonists in this setting than Kirie and Shuichi in theirs if I do say so myself lol. It's fully outlined and everything, but that's gonna forever be on the back burner until either my longfics get done or I figure out how to write horror, whichever comes first 😂

So all in all...still cooking! Thank you if you read all this, and thank you for your patience, especially if you've been closely following any of my in progress fics. Hopefully once the interview and application cycle is out of the way this fall, I'll have more brain capacity to really plug away at all these and share with you all! :>

[drippingmoon]

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

What's an element from your planning, research or worldbuilding that you're particularly excited about or obsessed with?

Share a snippet that shows it, if you'd like to 💜

Happy Storyteller Saturday, winter!! I've never and don't really participate in the ask days, but thank you very much nonetheless for the question❤ Answering for AoS because otherwise I'm gonna give myself 'quiv blues lmao.

So I get to talk about the Beast my beloved?? Awesome<3

The Beast of the Deep Night (designation: aberration of light) is all void limbs, its lambent eye, and all circular movements. There's one way to tell if its near: she swirls, circles, sways and dives for a star; everything is greyslate and suddenly you open the cabin door and see its lambent eye (that's how it tears itself a window into the universe). It can only move circularly because she follows a rhythm only it can see, though people still debate if it's because the Beast is removed from life, or if it follows the pattern of the universe itself<3

(And basically it makes planets furious, stars seethe, and humans crap themselves in fear) Now for the worldbuilding part I wanted to get to!!

(Got jumped in the middle of the chapter, and loved it. So naturally I wanna expand it further next time I'm writing)

There's another ongoing debate: if it's worse to die by the Beast or by the war. At one point everyone started to unanimously vote for the Beast and this is why: they believe it came into being because the universe was losing too much too quickly and got nothing in return, so it created a creature that couldn't lose anything to protect itself, and that it loathed the selfish.

So, if you are selfish enough and it devours you, she erases you. There won't be mourners, there won't even be death because it's as if you've never existed and disappear like smoke from the stars it snuffs out. So they're afraid of all the ghosts of people they might not remember, and they're afraid of being meaningless, of never having made a difference and of never having a single loved one light a lantern in remembrance, to grieve because they were loved.

And yeah, that's the original Beast: gatekeeper, homeless entity, IT specialist in deleting, glitch (when a nebula glitches, it's a heartbreaking phenomenon, but when a star glitches, it becomes undead remorse) and would probably the cutest critter in the universe if it asked for belly rubs in-between scratching and tearing, but alas.

Thanks so much for the question!!

[breakingblorbos]

Pinned Post/Blog Info!

Hiya!! Welcome to my BrBa & BCS focused blog! 👋🏼😊 The primary purpose of this pinned post is to give some info about me, my blog, and what you can expect to find on it. Everything below the cut is not required reading to follow or interact; merely just additional info if you are interested, or if you want to make requests. The only thing I require you to read is the following disclaimer:

This is an 18+ blog ran by an adult. You will find NSFT art/fic, dark and potentially upsetting themes, as is common for the BrBa/BCS universe. And I make very thirsty comments & posts about my blorbos, so just keep that in mind. However!! I am not going to restrict anyone from following/interacting with my blog. Use your own discretion and awareness. That's your responsibility, not mine. Anything that needs a content warning will be tagged appropriately, of course.

🌌About Me!🪐

Basic info - You can call me either Orion or Riley! I'm 25, neurodivergent, trans masc & nonbinary, and bisexual. Pronouns are he/him and they/them. I do also live in New Mexico (born and raised babyy!), which makes the shows that much more special to me!! I'm very friendly and open, but also very shy, so I tend to not reach out to folks even when I want to talk to them (which, honestly, is most of y'all. Oops.) If you ever do feel compelled to chat with me, please don't hesitate! I'm super excited to talk about BrBa/BCS with literally anybody!

I'm a writer, but I struggle hard with getting anything actually published on here or AO3. I try to write but it's not nearly consistent enough to ever expect anything from me. I'm working towards getting better at this! My main hurdle to overcome is my perfectionism and my fear of rejection (RSD).

I have a lot of interests, being autistic, so the only important one to list here is obviously Breaking Bad & Better Call Saul. You can certainly ask about my other interests, and I'll be happy to tell you more! I like to keep my special interests all separate on their own dedicated blogs, so that was the main motivation behind creating this one. Which leads me to the next section:

☣️About This Blog!⚗️

Most of the content is gonna be reblogs from others: fanart, fics, writings, memes, shitposts, etc. I myself am not an artist and cannot contribute with art even though I wish I could, but I may sometimes write little drabbles, oneshots, and universe willing, fic chapters for my ships/blorbos (more info on that below ↓). If you want to see something in particular, you're more than welcome to submit a request! I think I have a lot more motivation to write when I get specifically asked to write something, perhaps?

My main blorbos: (red shows the character currently occupying my braincell the most rn)

🥊Tuco Salamanca

🐍Nacho Varga (and by extension, Vaas Montenegro. I simply love MM.)

💀Marco & Leonel Salamanca

❤️‍🩹Jesse Pinkman

🎭Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill

Of course, I adore all the characters (except Walt ofc) and they're all very special to me!! But these seven men listed above have an absolute chokehold on my brain at any given time lmao, so they will be featured prominently in this blog.

My fave ships:

Default ship is character x reader

Vaacho (Vaas x Nacho)

Lacho (Nacho x Lalo)

Beef Sandwich (Nacho x Twins) I fucking love this ship name holy shit

Tucho (Tuco x Nacho)

McWexler (Kim x Jimmy)

Jesse x Jane

Jesse x Andrea

Jesse x happiness (this is a joke, but also not. Man deserves it.)

📨Requests!📝

My asks are always open for questions, requests, or really anything! I love sending/receiving asks and interacting with this fandom! If you're interested in requesting a writing from me, first read this list of what I will and won't write before you submit your request:

Yes, no problem!

Vast majority of ships

Smut/Explicit/PWP

Headcanons

AUs

Oneshots

Drabble

Reader Inserts

Gender Swaps

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Angst

Violence/Gore

Dubcon

Toxic Relationship

Most Kinks & Fetishes

Please ask first!

Fandom Crossovers (mostly just to ensure I know the fandom)

Consensual Noncon (depends on character)

No, I will not!

In/ce/st Ships (i.e. twincest, cousins)

Explicit content involving underage characters

Ageplay (calling a character daddy doesn't count lol)

Extreme Kinks, such as s/ca/t, v/or/e, n/ecr/o, etc.

Keep in mind that I reserve the right to deny your request for any reason, including no reason at all! 9 times out of 10 this won't be necessary, but if you're rude or demanding non-jokingly, I won't write for you! Just be chill and it'll be Saul Goodman! :)

Also I don't have a Masterlist to link here, because I've never posted anything ever! It's all just vibing in my Google Docs while I polish and tweak until the end of time! Fun! :D /s

So, yeah, I suppose that's the long and the short of it. I didn't expect for this to be so long, but I have a tendency to just keep adding details to things! Good for writing; not great for writing a blog intro. I'll edit as needed over time, though. Thanks for reading if you got this far! Seriously, props to you. Here's a cookie mwah 🤲🏼🍪