good luck charm

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

It's race day here in Monaco and you're walking around the paddock with your airpods in your ears, a sight that everyone was used to seeing every Sunday. Walking makes your muscles stay warm and the music helps you remain focus, cutting out every outside noise that's going around the paddock.

You like to look inside the team's garages as you walk past, you love to see everyone working and giving their best to have their cars sharp and ready to go into the track. You like to see the driver's rituals before racing too. Some sit in their drivers rooms, others like to stand in the garage and others like to sit in their cars.

You make your way to the AlphaTauri garage, wanting to see your boyfriend, Daniel, to whish him good luck. You and Daniel had this agreement that as soon as you walk into the paddock, there's no PDA. When you both started dating, the papers went wild, claiming that you were only in F1 because of your boyfriend and every question when you were on press it would be about Daniel and your relationship with him. You hated that. Being a woman in the F1 is already hard, having to prove yourself more than the men and you wanted to be recognized by people because of your career in Formula 1 and not because of your boyfriend so, you don't kiss when you're inside the paddocks, you don't to give the media something to talk about. You love Daniel nonetheless, and that affection is showed a lot outside the tracks. You both just like to keep it in a private circle. You still talk and tease each other in here, but there are no kisses or hugs, at least not in the public eye. You know each other's drivers room pretty well, though.

You see Daniel sitting in the corner of the garage, with his headphones on his head. It took you a while to figure out the thing he had under his nose.

You approach him and start laughing your butt off. Daniel Ricciardo has a moustache.

"What?" He asks, like he didn't know why you are laughing.

"What the hell is that?" You ask, pointing to his moustache.

"It's just a moustache." He says, brushing it with his fingers.

"Yeah, I can see that. You didn't have that when I left our hotel room this morning." You say.

"I told you I had a surprise for you. You don't like it?" He asks, with puppy eyes. Suddenly, you feel bad for laughing.

"I mean, it's a different look, that's all. It's suits you, alright." You say, smiling.

"So, you like it." He says, smiling.

"I mean, kinda?"

"Be honest." He says.

You look at him closer, tilting your head in a thinking motion. You put your mouth closer to his ear and whisper "I think it's very hot." As you push yourself away, you see him smirking.

"Well, I just came here to wish you good luck, you're gonna need it." You say, walking away.

"I already have my good luck charm." He says.

"Aw, thank you." You say, almost exiting the garage.

"Not you, the moustache." He says, smirking. You look back at him to see him smirking and then looking away from you.

"You're gonna regret that." You shout for him to hear and walk to your garage to get ready for the race.

-after the race-

You exit your car in the paddock and make your way into to the garage. You crossed the finish line in P4, and your were satisfied with your result, eager to do better next weekend. You passed Daniel twice, so you knew he hadn't done better than you.

You take of your helmet and you baclava and drink some water. After you're done with the press, you put on your regular clothes and make your way to the parking lot, where you see Daniel waiting, leaning against his car.

"Congrats on P4, sweets." He says, smiling.

"I told you were gonna regret it." I say, as you walk closer to him. "But P7 is not bad at all, at least you got some points."

You kiss him on the lips and he says "Well, it could have gone worse."

"It could have gone better, but you got a new good luck charm, shouldn't that have help you?" You ask, smirking. You both put your stuff in the trunk of the car and then enter it. Danny drives away to the hotel. And let's just say, his moustache is actually amazing when it comes to other stuff.

Teaching Obsession

(A request for @deliciouskittycreator)

This past year had been an… interesting year for Luke to say the least. He’d started a job at his local college as a teaching aid last September and one of the groups he’d been assigned to help was being taught by Mr James Tenner. From day one James had caught Luke’s eye.

James was 39 and soon approaching 40 years old so he was a fair bit older than the young man that Luke was. Despite that however he kept himself in ridiculously good shape. You could tell by how well fitted most of his clothes were to his fit frame. Most of the time he would be seen wearing suits or at least something that was smart casual. He was very well groomed with immaculate stubble and slicked back, styled hair that was now getting a bit of grey throughout. At a glance you could immediately tell that he took a lot of pride on his appearance and it certainly paid off. Most of the time he looked more like a distinguished businessman than a college English professor.

For each and every lesson he would aid alongside Mr Tenner, Luke would grow more and more obsessed with the man. Constantly stealing glances at the handsome professor, his body perfectly wrapped in the fabric of whatever suit he’d decided to wear that day. And if he was lucky, James would take off his jacket giving Luke an even better view of that hot teacher ass. And though Luke didn’t interact with it, he would constantly hear the students whispering to one another saying how fit Mr Tenner was.

Now however it was getting near the end of the academic year. Luke only had one more lesson left of James’ to sit in with and after that they were done for the year. Who knows if he’d get to work alongside him again next year. After getting to spend all this precious time around that hot stallion of a man, he just didn’t want things to change. Well thankfully for him, maybe they didn’t have to.

Recently a strange package had arrived on his doorstep. After checking it was definitely for him and not a mistake, Luke opened it to find a letter sat on top of what looked to be a strange machine. Pulling it out he found that it was actually two helmets of some kind both wired up to a controller. Confused, Luke opened the letter to figure out what this was about.

What he read seemed unreal. The letter explained how the sender somehow knew of Luke’s obsession with James and that they simply wanted to help fulfil that desire in greatest way possible. When it explained how the machine worked, one part of Luke’s mind was screaming that it was bullshit but at the same time, whether it be out of lust, desire or just dumb hope, he couldn’t help but believe it. It also explained how there was a small vial in the box he’d probably need as well before the mystery person simply signed “W” at the bottom.

After sifting back through the box, Luke was quick to find the vial that’d been mentioned and placed it down on the table beside the machine. In that moment a grin broke out across his face as he imagined what this could possibly mean for him.

***

The next day Luke arrived at the college as he normally would except his backpack was a fair bit heavier today than usual. He was with Mr Tenner for the afternoon so he had to slug through the morning with as regular of an attitude as possible but on the inside he just couldn’t wait to get this first half over and done with. After lunch however, it was finally time. Luke couldn’t help but give the handsome teacher a kind smile as he entered the room before sitting down and discussing the afternoon ahead with James. Since it was the last day and they’d done the final exams for the year already, today was planned to just be a fun lesson for games and socialising so it ended up being a very chilled out afternoon.

Once the students had been allowed to head home however, Luke stayed behind. Usually he’d leave along with them but today he had different plans. Instead he sat and chatted with James for awhile in the classroom as the handsome professor finished up the last of his paperwork. Luke eyed up the strong cup of coffee Mr Tenner had beside him and just knew that’d be his golden ticket. He waited for just the right moment when James got up to grab something, leaving his drink unattended when Luke swiftly whipped out the vial, poured in the liquid and stuffed the bottle back in his pocket.

Of course the mature suited man didn’t suspect a thing as when he sat back down he took another hefty gulp of coffee. Then another, and another until he finished the very last drop. It didn’t seem to be keep him awake and alert but rather making him drowsy instead. Very drowsy in fact. Then as his vision began to blur, he knew something was wrong but at this point there was nothing he could do. The last thing he saw before passing out was Luke’s face with a look of… excitement?

Luke watched with glee as James’ head tilted back over the chair, his pen dropping to the floor. The man was out cold meaning step one was complete. Now onto step two. Luke reached into his bag and carefully pulled out the two helmets along with the device linking them. He wasted no time in getting James to sit a bit more upright before placing one of the helmets on his head. Once it was secured in place, Luke grabbed the matching helmet and slipped it on himself. Step two complete.

The young man grabbed the device and looked down at the buttons. Finally onto step three. Thankfully the letter he’d got came with a few simple instructions on how work the machine. He went ahead with pressing a few buttons and adjusting some setting until he got it onto the right mode. With that Luke looked across at the older man, then down at himself and finally back to the device. ‘Here goes nothing’ he thought to himself before activating it.

It was hard for Luke to recall what happened after that. There was a flash as the helmets sparked to life causing him to jolt around a bit. His vision quickly became blurry as he started to loose feeling throughout his body until finally it all faded to black… but not for long. About 10 minutes later Luke awoke groggily only now he was sat behind the professors desk and not in front. Even more surprising though was seeing his own unconscious body slumped in a chair before him!

Looking down at himself Luke was swift to notice the suit he was now wearing. It was Mr Tenner’s! And his body… it all felt so different. Older yet also stronger and slightly bigger. All the evidence pointed towards the machine doing exactly what it’d promised but he just couldn’t believe it. Luke grabbed the helmet on his head before tossing onto the desk and jumping up to inspect himself.

On impulse his hands started to explore the body hidden beneath his dress shirt. He could feel a solid pair of defined pecs far bigger than his former ones before moving down to feel the hard ridges of abs. This quickly tempted him to untuck his shirt and pull it out to reveal them and he wasn’t disappointed, rubbing and feeling them along with a dusting of stomach hair he hadn’t had before.

Bringing those hands up to his face, Luke explored his facial features. His jawline felt more prominent, lips slightly fuller, a fine stubble in place of the short beard he used to have and he couldn’t help but notice his hair. The hairline receded a bit but most notably the gel used to slick back his hair.

After that Luke had to see it. He snatched up James’ phone from the desk and switched on the front camera. The face staring back at him was none other than the very same man he’d been lusting over all year. Mr Tenner. An almost sadistic grin emerged on his face that would’ve looked very out of character for James as he started to further admire his handsome, mature new features. Loving how his face looked aged but not wrinkled due to the lengths James went to take care of his skin while also enjoying the silver mixed in with his styled hair. Just gazing upon his new reflection was causing the bulge in his suit pants to grow larger and tighter… but he wanted to save the best for last.

Next he went onto grab at his biceps, adoring how they bulged inside the fitted suit jacket showing them off perfectly. It was incredible how a body almost twice Luke’s age could be this fit… this strong… this perfect. The professor had clearly put huge amounts of work into this body and now Luke was more than happy to reap the benefits. He gave his arms a flex, loving how the jacket and dress shirt underneath had to stretch over the muscle. By now his cock was begging for attention but he had one more thing he wanted to checked out first. After giving his pecs another quick squeeze through his shirt, Luke’s hands wandered down to his powerful new muscle ass, gripping it tightly with both hands. Fuck he’d wanted to grab and squeeze this ass all year long but he never imagined it’d be on his own backside when he finally got to do so. Just then his old body started to groan. Luke took quick notice of this, fascinated too see if the setting he’d input to alter James had taken effect.

James blinked his eyes open, astonished to see none other than his twin standing before him! Wearing his clothes!? He cursed out loud, demanding to know what was going on but as he did he noticed the difference in his voice and body. He was much slimmer than before and wearing clothes similar to what his Teaching Aid Luke had been wearing before. Come to think of it, his voice just now sounded somewhat like Luke’s as well… what the fuck was going on!?

Looking back up at his imposter, James couldn’t help but notice the sinister smile plastered across his face. He was about to say something when the other man spoke up first. “Get over here and kneel in front of me.” The suited man spoke with such confidence, the words rattling through James’ head. Every fibre of his being was telling him to obey this man. What was wrong with him? “Now.” The man demanded in a slightly deeper tone. After that James’ body moved on its own, scrambling over and dropping to his knees as he was told.

At this point he was getting even more freaked because the more he looked up at his former… handsome… mature… sexy body he couldn’t help but feel incredibly turned on. Like he just wanted to endlessly service it. But he’d never been into men before? He was straight! So why couldn’t he pull his eyes away from the other man’s bulging crotch?! Then without warning he felt a hand grab the back of his head, pressing it against the bulge before telling him to worship it. One part of his mind was screaming at himself get run but it was vastly overpowered by the part that only wanted to obey and worship. And so James found himself kissing, licking and sniffing at the outline of his imposters cock.

Luke almost couldn’t believe it. Not only had the machine been able to put him in the hunky body of Mr Tenner but it’d made the original James’ mind completely subservient to his will. Now the former professor, now in Luke’s old body, was doing everything he could to please his new master. After watching James press his face against the significant bulge in his suit pants however, Luke finally decided it was about time to whip out his brand new cock. By the look on James’ face, he was just as excited as Luke was about it.

“Fuckin woah… now that’s an upgrade for sur-oooohhaah” Luke barley had a chance to finish his sentence after unleashing his new monster cock before James had his lips wrapped around it, sucking away with passion. Luke just went with the flow, pressing James’ head down while loving how incredible and sensitive this dick felt.

As his cock was being worshiped, Luke felt the overwhelming desire to strip out of this suit and give his new body some proper appreciation. Buuuuut it was probably best to wait until later. After all if he was caught naked on college grounds he’d more than likely be fired from his new job before even having a chance to start. Just this blowjob was enough of a risk as it was. With that in mind he pulled James off his dick momentarily to jerk himself off furiously. James could only was watch in awe as his former body jacked his dick like his life depended on it. This is until Luke finally started to feel his new seed welling up. With that he plunged his cock right back into James’ open mouth and, with just a few eager bobs of James’ head, Luke grunted as he exploded his professor nut down the younger man’s throat in a thick salty blast.

Luke watched with glee as his old body licked the cum off his lips. He shoved his softening cock back into his suit pants before pulling his new boy toy up onto his feet. “From now on you’re Luke the teaching aid and you will only refer to me as either Mr Tenner or Sir. You got that?” The new Mr Tenner stated.

“Yes sir! Will I be able to worship you again soon?” Asked the new Luke though his inner self was still screaming against it.

“My place tonight at 8:00. You’ll be doing a whole lot more than worshipping…” The new professor stated before giving his former self a kiss on the cheek. As he did, the device caught his eye. With a smirk he grabbed it, ripping out the wires connecting it to the helmets before dropping it on the floor and smashing it beneath one of his new dress shoes. “Just so you don’t get any ideas. I am James Tenner now and there’s nothing you can do to change that.” He sneered towards the new Luke.

***

Just over an hour later James now found himself in his new incredible looking home. He’d stripped off his suit piece by piece, slowly revealing the adonis body beneath. He stood before a mirror, admiring the full beauty of his new form. A light dusting of hair spread across two incredible pecs and a set of well defined abs. Arms that stretched most dress shorts he wore, threatening to rip through them. And of course the incredibly well sculpted ass he just couldn’t get enough of.

Now that he was alone, he was free to go full on perve mode with his new life. Walking around the house fully nude with a constant boner. Going through all dirty clothes in the hamper and smelling the gym clothes this body had recently worn and loving how that scent was now his own. Sifting through his entire new closet and trying on style after style of clothes, mainly suits, and loving just how well it all fit him. So much so that a quite a few pairs of his new suit pants now had his ball batter splattered all over the inside, staining them slightly with his seed. It almost felt like he was marking his territory in a weird way.

The time just flew by in all his excitement and before long he heard his doorbell ring. James answered the door in some slightly more casual but still incredible looking clothes to see none other than Luke, his new obedient slave. He invited the man in without hesitation and led him towards the living room.

“Alright boy, you should remember what this body likes to eat. If you make me some good food I might consider taking off this shirt and letting you worship my pecs for awhile. Then we’ll see how it goes from there.” James stated smuggly, grasping his cock a little before watching Luke scurry off to the kitchen while he sat down to watch some TV. He already knew in the moment that this new life of his was going to be absolutely incredible. Bit by bit he’d been tapping into some new memories so by the time summer break was over he should be able to completely and utterly assume the full identify of Mr Tenner without anyone batting an eye over at the college or in his personal life.

He still had no idea who sent him that machine in the first place but whoever it was, James was incredibly grateful for it.

What was it about the species in the galaxy that made them want to live on the worst planets possible? Grogu just didn’t understand why anyone would go to a place like Trask and say ‘Yup, this is great. We can live here!” Well, okay, maybe the Frog Lady felt that way since she said it was the only hospitable place for the continuation of her family line. But other than her and her partner, who else would find it to be ‘10/10, great place to live, no notes’?  

Okay, the Mon Calamari and the Quarren seemed to like it there as well. Grogu could imagine that one of his former Jedi Masters, Kit Fisto, would have liked it as well. But then they were all aquatic species and it would have been strange if they didn’t like a planet covered with so much water. 

And planets like Trask weren’t the only planets that Grogu looked at and sighed deeply about. What about Nevarro? It was covered by lava flows! There were toxic gases that just bubbled up from the ground there! Sure, things grew there, but it wasn’t great stuff. It was little stubby plants that were stunted by the heat and super hard volcanic surface that hadn’t broken down into something better because there wasn’t much in the way of water to do that work. Not just the lack of oceans and rivers, but much like Tatooine, there wasn’t a lot of rain on Nevarro. Grogu was surprised that anything green appeared on it at all. 

He knew people could survive almost anywhere, but why go there? Of course, he supposed it you were a bounty hunter you probably wanted to hang out on planets that no one else wanted to go to. That way if you’d broken up a syndicate or a very protective family or both (imagine bringing a Hutt in as a bounty… uff) they wouldn’t want to go to a place like Nevarro first. That would be a last resort. At least it would be a last resort for Grogu.

During one of the lectures he’d attended at the Jedi Temple, there had been a long discussion about the wide variety of planets, moons, and other interstellar bodies that dotted the galaxy. Grogu had been most interested in the places described as ‘Forest Moon’ or “Swampy Jungle”. He’d liked the swampy feel of Sorgan and was fascinated by forests in general. Trees were amazing and huge and he could well imagine living in one some day. 

Of course, one of the other things that made those types of planets sound great was knowing that his feet would be less likely to be burned from walking on the ground because it wouldn’t be super hot from two suns blazing on it all the time or because while it looked like regular rocks it was actually just the cooling surface of a lava flow. And, as much as he didn’t like wearing shoes or boots or other things that would cover his feet, including his coverall (because it really did cover all), Grogu also disliked having to heal his own feet all the time. Sure, the Mandalorian and his friends never noticed when he did that and that was okay. He also pretended he didn’t know when Din Djarin was trimming his own toe nails, but honestly, Grogu couldn’t fail to hear the human swearing, even while he had his helmet on.

Which brought up another point. What kind of planet was ideal for a guy who wore armor all the time? Grogu doubted that it was Degobah. It was humid and rained there a lot according the research he’d been doing. The beskar armor might be able to deal with salt spray and all the suspended solids in swamp water, but the Mandalorian’s first and second layers probably felt and smelled pretty bad after a dunking or a rain storm. Grogu knew that his coverall was water repellant and that helped a lot, as did riding around in the pram, when it was functional and on hand, but the way the Mandalorian complained about wet places and avoided them, Grogu was pretty sure, Din’s clothing acted like a sponge and he spent a lot of time being very uncomfortable. 

He supposed the ideal planet for a Mandalorian would have a lot of shade to protect them from glare given how shiny beskar armor could be. The water sources would be organized and well marked and purified in some manner, probably through treatment systems with a lot of filters. The critters on that planet would have to move around at night or underground or in the water systems to keep the Mandos from snacking on them all the time. And since Mandalorians were not the sit around and appreciate the sunset kind of people, it probably didn’t matter if the planet had dramatic terrain or not. It could just be covered with housing and civic engagement buildings, along with landing pads. 

Grogu began to laugh to himself and nothing the Mandalorian said to him could stop him from giggling. He’d realized the best place for his dad to live was Coruscant. Lots of bounties to collect, no real sunshine to bother him, nothing like nature to interfere with his hobbies of armor polishing and ship repair. Grogu didn’t really want to go back there, but to give his dad the ideal habitat to teach him how to be a Mandalorian bounty hunter, he was willing to make that sacrifice.

12 Benefits Of Wearing Cycling Jersey

Close your eyes and think about a professional cyclist. What are the things that come to your mind? A person wearing a cycling helmet, padded gloves, bright jersey, tight shorts, glasses, and shoes riding on a bike. So, you see a jersey is an inevitable part of a serious cyclist’s attire.

Despite that, to wear or not to wear a cycling jersey has remained one of the most debated topics in the cycling community. A section of the community feels there’s no need to invest in a jersey that may cost $50 to $100 or even more when cycling can be done in a $10 t-shirt.

Well, we have all done that – cycling in our old t-shirts and shirts, haven’t we? So, what’s the point in getting a cycling jersey? Is it just a style statement or something more than that? If you ask me, I went around cycling in the neighborhood wearing t-shirts as a boy but when I took it as a serious sport, a cycling jersey it had to be.

It doesn’t require someone with an extraordinary IQ level to understand that regular loose-fitting clothes flap in the wind and offer more resistance. They irritate your skin and even make you pedal much harder. With a well-fitting jersey, you can reduce the wind resistance and protect your skin from chafing.

They offer a lot more advantages and the jerseys come in different types of fabric, styles, and designs to choose from. If you are still looking for reasons to throw that old cotton t-shirt back into a drawer and grab a cycling jersey instead, then read on.

Benefits Of Wearing A Cycling Jersey

#1. Sweat Resistance

When you ride a bicycle, you sweat a lot and the plain polyester fabric that most t-shirts are made of do nothing to ease off the discomfort, plus they don’t breathe. As your regular t-shirt starts soaking in the sweat, it gets heavier and impacts your pedaling performance. Having sweat run down the arms, armpits, and waist can be an irritating experience on top of that.

Cycling jerseys like this, on the other hand, are made of moisture-wicking fabric. They may contain polyester but they are technically designed to absorb moisture from skin. Some of the sweat-resistant fabrics include polyester and lycra composite; rayon; cotton and lycra composite.

Some brands of cycling jerseys are made from sweat-absorbing fabric instead of sweat repelling. They constitute of Quick Dry technology to keep the wearer comfortable.

#2. UV Resistance

If you ride in a hot and humid region, your skin is constantly exposed to the harmful ultraviolet rays that can have damaging long-term effects. Thankfully, there are UV-resistant jerseys that can protect … click here to read further information.

12 Benefits Of Wearing Cycling Jersey was first posted on Cycling How source https://cyclinghow.com/benefits-of-wearing-cycling-jersey/

Safety Tips for Riders Enjoy a Hassle-Free Ride in Delhi

Delhi, the capital city of India, is a bustling metropolis that attracts a large number of tourists every year. And also the place of  attraction to most of the adventures. Whether you are a local or live outside of Delhi, you need to know what it looks like riding a bike in Delhi safely. With its rich cultural heritage, vibrant nightlife, and a wide range of shopping options, Delhi has something to offer for everyone. However, navigating the busy streets of Delhi can be challenging, especially for riders. At Rentnhop, we provide bike on rent in Delhi and safety guidance to our customers.Here are some safety tips for riders to enjoy a hassle-free ride in Delhi. 

1. Wear a helmet: Wearing a helmet is mandatory for riders in Delhi. A good quality helmet can protect your head from injuries in case of an accident. Always make sure to wear a helmet that fits properly and has a chin strap. Whether you are getting a bike on rent in Delhi or it’s your own vehicle. 

2. Follow traffic rules: Delhi has strict traffic rules, and riders are expected to follow them. Always ride in the designated lanes, and obey traffic signals and signs. Avoid taking shortcuts or driving on the wrong side of the road, as this can lead to accidents. While providing bike on rent in Delhi, we always tell people to follow the traffic rules. 

3. Stay alert: Keep your eyes on the road and be aware of your surroundings. Look out for pedestrians, other vehicles, and obstacles on the road. Avoid using your phone while riding, as this can distract you and increase the risk of accidents. Usig phone while riding bike is the worst thing you can do. 

4. Maintain your bike: Regular maintenance of your bike is essential for safe riding. Make sure to check the brakes, tires, lights, and other parts of your bike before setting out on a ride. If you notice any issues, get them fixed immediately. If you are getting a bike on rent in Delhi from our company, then you don’t need to worry about anything. We maintain our bike regularly with a team of experts. 

5. Be visible: Wear brightly coloured clothes or reflective gear that makes you visible to other riders and drivers on the road. Use your bike’s headlights and taillights, especially during low light conditions or when riding at night. This advice is very important but still people ignore this. 

6. Avoid over-speeding: Over-speeding is a common cause of accidents in Delhi. Always ride at a safe speed, especially in congested areas, residential areas, or areas with a lot of pedestrians. Remember the quote “Slowly is the best way to reach anywhere”. 

7. Stay hydrated: Delhi is known for its hot and humid weather, especially during the summer months. Make sure to carry a water bottle with you and stay hydrated during your ride. It would be even great if you can carry some kind of juice with you. 

8. Plan your route: Before setting out on a ride, plan your route and avoid areas with heavy traffic or congested roads. Use a GPS or map to navigate, and be aware of any construction or road closures along your route. Planning before getting on a trip or before getting your bike rental in Delhi will save you so much time. 

9. Avoid riding in adverse weather conditions: Delhi experiences extreme weather conditions, including heavy rains, fog, and smog. Avoid riding in adverse weather conditions, as this can increase the risk of accidents.

10. Avoid riding at night: Riding at night can be challenging, especially in Delhi. The roads are poorly lit, and visibility is low. If possible, avoid riding at night or use extra caution if you have to ride during low light conditions.

Why follow these safety tips? 

These safety tips are crucial for riders to enjoy a safe and hassle-free ride in Delhi. Wearing a helmet is the most important safety measure for riders, as it can protect them from head injuries in case of an accident. 

Following traffic rules is equally important, as it not only ensures the rider's safety but also the safety of other road users. Being alert and aware of the surroundings can help riders avoid accidents caused by obstacles, pedestrians, or other vehicles on the road.

Regular maintenance of the bike is essential for its safe operation, as it can prevent mechanical failures that can lead to accidents. At Renthop, we maintain our bikes every week or month so we can provide the best bike on rent in Delhi or even scooty on rent in Delhi. Visibility is also crucial for riders, as it can make them visible to other road users and reduce the risk of accidents. 

Avoiding over-speeding, staying hydrated, planning the route, avoiding adverse weather conditions, and avoiding riding at night are additional measures that can help riders enjoy a safe and enjoyable ride in Delhi.

Overall, these safety tips can help riders enjoy the beauty of Delhi without compromising their safety. By taking these measures seriously and practising safe riding habits and choosing us while getting a motorcycle bike on rent in Delhi, riders can ensure a safe and memorable experience in Delhi.

Conclusion

In conclusion, following these safety tips can help riders enjoy a hassle-free ride in Delhi. By wearing a helmet, following traffic rules, staying alert, maintaining your bike, being visible, avoiding over-speeding, staying hydrated, planning your route, avoiding adverse weather conditions, and avoiding riding at night, you can ensure a safe and enjoyable ride in Delhi. And you can contact us anytime if you want a two wheeler on rent in Delhi or any other city.  Check our website to know more about bike renting in Delhi. 

Dishonored 2 character guide: how to choose between Emily and Corvo | PC Gamer

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥 Forums New posts Search forums Non-stemming search. Media New media New comments Search media. Resources Latest reviews Search resources. RPF Shop. Log in Register. What's new Search. New posts. Search forums. Non-stemming search. Log in. Install the app. JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding. You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly. You should upgrade or use an alternative browser. Dishonored 2 Elite Guard Uniform. TheSpaceMongol New Member. I thought I'd make a thread for this build as I think there will be some interest among the fans of Dishonored franchise for this one. I found the cut and details of the uniform to be really visually pleasing and thought about how I could make this piece a reality- I weighed my options on what techniques and tools to use and decided I should go with "real" materials as much as possible, since those are what I'm most familiar with. I lack 3D printing capacity and skills, but I can weld and work metal professionally and have a sewing machine. So, dark brown leather boots, high- waist, pleated beige military pants, red jacket with a white high collar undershirt plus metal helmet are what I need. First off I checked the references and whether I could find any items that might work for the costume as is or with minimal modding- always better if you can get a decent base to work from instead of doing everything from scratch. Just your general issue high- waist pants in a correct enough color that'll work for the costume with some modifications. The buttons for the front pouches should be replaced with lighter color ones or removed the elite guard pants don't seem to have front pockets, but this seems a minor enough issue to overlook. They also need flaps for the rear pockets, I just need to source some similar enough fabric for them. These pants only have one rear pocket so the other flap will just be cosmetic. Some ironing and starch, small mods and there you go, guard pants. These were also sought after by regular troops who often purloined or "acquired" via alternative means. These feature russet brown leather uppers, toe caps, 12 eyelets, leather soles, and slanted heels. These come with cloth laces. Leather laces King Jacob New Member. This is really cool. One of my favorite games ever. Looking forward to this! I got the helmet constuction started for the uniform. The pattern had some amount of excess to it, just in case I made a mistake somewhere when measuring the lengths. I began construction with the lower half of the helmet and the brim and managed to get the general shape of the brim quite close to the in- game one. I used a cheap method in shaping the brim, I just removed some material where the brim needs to slope down more as I lack access to a forge large enough to fit something this size. Next I'll probably fine tune the shaping on the lower part, tucking the back of the helmet in slightly and shaping the top bowl for the helmet. Some of the height might also need to be trimmed from the lower part, but we'll see how it looks once the top is on. Once that's done and tacked on, I'll TIG-weld the basic constuction together both inside and out. There's also the cheek pieces on the table there in the first pic:. Continuing with the helmet construction. I started fitting the top of the bowl on the lower part of the helmet and pretty soon decided it'd be much easier to make in two halves instead of one piece, so I cut the top in the middle. Here I'm just roughly fitting on the back portion to see where to shape it next:. A bit of progress on the helmet. I've welded all the seams from the outside, but there's still a lot of work to be done until I can get to making all the extra bits that go on this helmet base. Hot dang, that's cool! What are you going to be filling with? With steel, did some small fill welds so I didn't need to grind away too much material. Here's the result:. I made some progress today with the smaller parts. First, I made the top plate and crest:. I haven't updated this project in a while, so here goes. I got to attaching the extra plate and crest on top of the helmet and ground the weld flush. The result was pretty close to the in game model, though not exact. The main build for the helmet is nearing completion. All the parts, or at least blanks for the final parts have been made, just a bit of carving and polishing to be done. Rest of the metal parts can be seen in this photo:. I hadn't updated this in a while it seems. Time for an update then! I'm now at a point where all the main parts have been fixed to the helmet and all the decorative parts have also been done. The result looks satisfactory in my opinion:. That is some impressive work, TheSpaceMongol! Utri Active Member. Looking awesome, can't wait to see the finished product! The boots are square toe, right? Maybe like this, sans the toe stitching? Thanks for your kind words and interest. I've finished treating the outside of the helmet, now it has a dark patina on it, although it is a bit uneven in places. Also, I discovered a massive mistake I made early on and it was mistakenly using stainless steel for the construction! I thought I had a scrap piece of mild steel since I had stored it where I keep pieces of mild steel and it had rust on it, but it turned out it was in the wrong place. So now the helmet is mainly stainless, welded together with regular steel material. No wonder the surface was hard to oxidize as stainless resists oxidization very well. So, that sort of threw the process out of whack, as you can't really make an even heat blued surface on stainless, much less on a piece with mixed materials. Hot blueing is the only process you can use on stainless, so that effectively prevented the use of a cold-blueing chemical solution on this piece. The only way forward from that realization, in my opinion was to use the patina already on the helmet and just proceed with carefully scrubbing the surface with a polishing cloth and see what the result is- and here it is:. I've made some small amount of progress on this project after a while of slumber. First off, I started making the Grand Guard pistol. Lots of tiny bits of steel are needed for the clockwork mechanism on the side. I say clockwork mechanism because while it looks like a wheellock mechanism, it can't be because it's missing springs and parts that would actually make it function as one. The guns in Dishonored have cartridges with metal casings so the actual mechanism must be something like a concealed hammer inside the frame and I assume the clockwork parts are just a vestigial, aestethic greeblies. Here are the parts done so far, arranged on the scale pattern:. WW1 British Army Regulation field boot - square or round toe Leather uppers with cleated and hobnailed soles. We have these available in both square and round toe. From the savannas to the sidewalks, these Classic Men's Trousers in khaki twill are perfect for an adventure of epic proportions. The 19th century was an unprecedented time of leisure travel, and trousers just like this pair were always packed away in a Sluis Van Shipyards Legendary Member. Very cool! I'm just playing through these after I got them in the last Steam sale. I just finished Dishonored 2 and am halfway through Death of the Outsider. Thanks Sluis! They are really great games! Some more progress on this project, got my hands on some walnut for the guard pistol's stock. Here's the initial blank cut from the plank:. Time for updates. The project is advancing steadily, thus far I've managed to acquire correct the khaki pants and shirt and also almost finished the spats. They would've already been done but I'm waiting on some small parts still. More on those later. Right now I'm focusing on the officers pistol, and there's been quite a lot of undocumented progress. I know it doesn't look like much but making stuff from metal is quite hard and time-consuming relative to other methods of fabrication I just like the real feel and heft it brings! Here's the almost finished left side mechanism for the pistol, lots of tiny parts that needed cutting, filing, welding and polishing but here we are:. Some progress on the gun, did most of the work on the steel fittings near the midpoint of the barrel. It's fairly time-consuming going back and forth between the metal parts and the wood stock, filing a bit here and a bit there to make them fit exactly but it is worth the effort to ensure a good fit. I'm now at a point with the gun where things are starting to come together. Most of the large metal fittings have been done, the barrel is ready. Now I just need to figure out where to place all the small screws that hold the metal and wood together. I could simply attach everything with epoxy and call it a day but that seems kind of wrong somehow- I would like it if the gun could be taken apart. Here's some pics of the major components fitted together:. Your message may be considered spam for the following reasons: Your new thread title is very short, and likely is unhelpful. Your reply is very short and likely does not add anything to the thread. Your reply is very long and likely does not add anything to the thread. It is very likely that it does not need any further discussion and thus bumping it serves no purpose. Your message is mostly quotes or spoilers. Your reply has occurred very quickly after a previous reply and likely does not add anything to the thread. This thread is locked. Post reply. Insert quotes…. Similar threads C. Replies 94 Views 15, Today at AM kevinv. Bioshock 2 Subject Delta. Replies 33 Views 2, Squid Game Guard Reference Pictures. Replies 27 Views 1, Monday at AM Cricket. Cameron Feb 10, Replica Costumes 2 3. Replies 50 Views 2, Saturday at PM Cameron Ryan Gosling 'K' - Blade Runner ! Replies 2, Views , Friday at PM Jameel Ur.

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

------

"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

💭hi chloe, congrats! could u do a dating ff!tommy head canon (like the ones you have for stiles and mitch) i miss him 🥺

under the cut! i will also link this to my masterlist, because I know how much y'all like these!

PDA

Tommy is kiiiiinda in a middle ground about PDA

He doesn’t feel the need to go over the top, but he isn’t shy about it either

He’ll kiss his girl when he wants, and he isn’t shy of affection either

Little nudges and pokes and a lot of random hugs

On a call together, he keeps it professional, of course

But in your own time? He’s a free man, and he’ll love his girl if he wants to

At the house, he can be extra with PDA, just to annoy everyone

If he gives you a little kiss, or does something which anybody teases him for, he goes into overdrive, just to annoy them

A lot of ‘my love’, ‘angel’, ‘light of my life’, ‘love of my life’, ‘hey pretty girl’

A lot of flirting too

“Oh, damn, good thing we’re firemen because you are smokin’.” and such

He will one hundred percent grab your ass and run away

You’ve actually become pretty used to it, actually

Little slaps, or pinches, or grabs, and then he just runs away laughing

Thinkin’ he’s doing something

But he still blushes when you flirt back, in literally any situation

Using a fire-related pick-up line

“Well, damn, lieutenant, you’d better come over here and handle me then.”

And his jaw would drop and he’d get cute pink cheeks

Which definitely leads to some PDA because he’ll grab your face and kiss you

The PDA gets more after a hard call but nobody says anything then

Hand holding and cuddling and playing with hair

Soft kisses and whispered reassurances while holding each other’s faces

Honestly, he’s not big on making an exhibition, but he will give out a lot of love

HANGING OUT

Hanging out happens a lot

For starters, there’s all day at work, especially on slow days when you might not even get a case

At the beginning of the relationship, that would be awesome, because ‘honeymoon phase’ and all

But once you’ve moved past that and into a more serious relationship, that can be an issue

Like if there’s been a dispute at home or one of you is on edge

So hanging out is pretty much never alone at work

And you try to break it up into chunks too

Making sure you have a girls night with Brenda at least once a week

And once a week he has a guys night, and you plan them on separate days

You actually have too much hang out time on your hands, and it can be a strain

Once you’ve got it down, though, it’s easy

Having TV shows that you binge together, and will never watch without the other

Cleaning and doing household chores together always becoming fun

Especially when you build a playlist for these jobs, and end up dancing and singing together

Also, cooking together

Which is actually usually just one of you cooking, and the other sitting on the counter just to chat

Grocery shopping alone, and making appointments alone

Just so that you always have time apart, to keep things distanced

DATE NIGHT

Date nights are hard to plan when you live together and have such busy jobs

You rarely ever actually feel the need to go out and about to have a date

Really, you just want to get in your comfies and relax together

At first, you both kind of force yourselves to go out

Making bookings and dressing up and going out for dinner

You feel like you owe it to yourselves at the beginning

Even though you don’t need to do the small talk and whatnot

After that, drive through dates in the middle of the night, or going on walks in the park count as dates

And after that, you honestly stop counting dates

You’re just together

Long before you move in together, you’re already basically living together

You drive home from work together, and choose who’s place to crash at

So dates as a concept are pretty irrelevant after a pretty short amount of time

SEX

Oh, don’t even get me started on this

He’s always horny after regular cases

Watching you go into ‘action mode’, he loves it

And you feel the same about him

Definitely having hooked up in the showers a few times at work while you were still in that phase

His hand over your mouth and trying not to let the sounds be too obvious

Trying to keep quiet and failing at it

You’re pretty sure everyone knows, but nobody said anything

Also fucking in one of the firetrucks and the ambulance

When you get a little more self-control, morning sex is usually the way forwards

Because you’re both always so tired after shifts

So morning sex is usually the way to go

If it is morning sex, it’s always sloppy and clingy and passionate

Slow thrusts and wandering hands and deep kisses

Shower sex is also a regular visitor in the morning sex regime

“It’s hot, and easy clean-up, and it’s hot. I see no downsides.”

He loves shower sex

However, if you’ve been out with the team, you’re probably both a little tipsy

Team nights lead to drinking, lead to Thomas openly saying how much he loves how hot his girlfriend is and getting wandering hands

Also kinda sloppy and clingy sex

But a lot hotter

Because you have more energy than mornings, and you’ve got a little liquor behind it

So it’s the times when you both get a little wilder

Day off sex is different, though

Day off sex is much more like making love than just fucking

Because it’s a lazy day, so you’re both in pyjamas

And he’s just turned on because he loves you so much

It’s quite literally just ‘seriously, you’re so cute and I love you so much’ sex

Wearing his oversized shirts and sweatpants and odd socks

And he’s wearing plaid pants or sweats and old shirts

Literally nothing sexy about it but damn you just have so much love

So those are the days where he takes you apart piece by piece

Slow and deep, so much love and kisses

Dirty talk is more just loving confessions

It’s not “I’m gonna have you screaming my name” like drunk sex or morning sex

But it more like “I’m gonna love you forever, I swear it”

Yeah, he’s always clingy, though

AFTERCARE

Big on aftercare. Big big big.

He’s always affectionate but he’s extra affectionate after sex

Brushing your hair back out of your face

If he got messy, he gets a cloth and cleans you up

Plus a lot of cuddling

“You want anything? Some water, I want some water. You want a snack?”

Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t

If you do, he helps you out on some loose clothes and makes something simple like poptarts

If you don’t he gets you water when he gets his own and brings it to bed

Always helps you get back into some kind of pyjamas afterwards

Even if it’s just throwing them to you if you’re not completely fucked out

Cuddling under the covers afterwards

And it doesn’t get awkward, either

two seconds later, once you’re all cuddled up, he’ll jump right in with “so, guess what my mom texted before-”

And he just skips into the gossip and chatter without any awkwardness

THINGS YOU STEAL FROM EACH OTHER

Ohhh a lot

You wear a lot of his hoodies and shirts and coats

He likes things to be comfortably big on himself, so they’re quite large on you

He steals your slippers and fluffy for a while

Your place has hardwood floors but his has carpets, so when he comes over, his feet get cold

He stretches out your socks and slippers

So you start buying them bigger so they’re comfortable for him

He doesn’t realise until he sees you trip over the extra-long toe length one day

So he buys you your own

You now have like 15 pairs that are alternated around

Honestly, each other’s phones

What do you have to hide from him? You work together, you live together, you have the same friends

So, you use one another’s phones

To get in the groupchat and just reply, or to call someone or send a text

It’s really just about whoever’s phone is closest

He steals your netflix account before moving in

And you steal his spotify premium

His car

It’s cooler and has a smoother drive and you like it

So you like to drive his car around a lot

He always subtly complains about it

“That car is my baby.”

“I thought I was your baby.”

“You’re my angel.”

But he always hands over the keys willingly

And he complains about adjusting the seat after you’ve used it

But he buys the air fresheners you like

PICK UP LINES HE LIKES TO USE

A lot of straight-up firemen puns

“Get rid of your smoke detector, sleep with a fireman.”

“The fire might be out, but you’re smokin’ hot.”

I’m a fireman. I’m an expert in what’s hot.”

But he’s also soft and cheesy and in love with his paramedic girlfriend so

“I’m glad you know CPR, because you just took my breath away.”

“Do you have a band-aid? Because I scraped my knees falling for you.”

“If you’re here, who’d running heaven?”

“Your hand looks heavy, want me to hold it for you?”

“I just stole a kiss. Want it back? Come get it.”

GOING ON CALLS TOGETHER

He's a professional little baby

He won’t let his love for you get in the way, because he knows you’ll yell at him for it

He has a job to do, and he learned the hard way that he has to prioritise that

A lot of arguments and tearful confessions and deep chats made the understanding

But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a few traditions

If it’s just a regular case with him going into a building and you staying outside, it’s the usual

Whispered reassurances as a plan is formed

Before you lock your pinkies, and pull each other close, and kiss your thumbs

It started because you kept bumping your head on his helmet when you tried to give him quick kisses

And then getting in trouble for kissing on the scene when one of the local papers reported on workplace romances

And you aren’t technically doing anything wrong but it made you both mad

So it became a pinky lock, and kissing the edges of your own hand

Because that’s the best you could get

However, if you have to go into a building, he checks your kit himself

You gave up fighting him on it

The only way he was gonna feel reassured was if he’d checked it all himself

Just allowing him to do so at this point

Bumping your helmets together softly before you go inside

When you go inside, you always walk behind him

He never directly demanded that when you were working out boundaries after an argument

But you know it makes him feel better

Always sticking close to his side, and remembering the flashlight technique he’d taught you if you wander off

After cases, when you get back to the firehouse, you always have reassuring little kisses

And that’s his time to support you

Always letting you check him over, even when he’s not hurt

Because he knows that it makes you feel better

And if you have to take a detour to the hospital with patients, he makes sure he has a mug of tea and a snack ready for you when you get back

Good intentions and bad luck

Din is always the attentive one. It’s always Din who looks after Corin, who makes sure he’s okay and has everything he needs. Corin decides to try to repay him a little. When Corin had been worried that Din would not approve of him making a big deal out of the little bean’s birthday, he’d been proven wrong by Din being his kind and generous self, not only approving of the idea but also joining in with enthusiasm and delight. It was yet another gem of a memory in the life with Din that Corin will cling to until his dying day and it has given him an idea: when is Din Djarin’s birthday?

He can’t ask Din, that would ruin the surprise, so he does the second best thing.

Sneaking off, he maneuvers through hallways until he arrives at the room he hopes, with a little good luck, holds the answer.

Knocking, he waits. It takes a moment, which he suspects is due to putting the helmet back on, but eventually the door do unlock and slides open.

Corin opens his mouth to ask his question but he’s quickly shocked into mute surprise by what he sees.

Paz’ helmet is familiar enough, but the man is not wearing his armour, just regular clothing! It’s not hard to deduct from the civilian clothing, his t-shirt and sweatpants, and the towel hanging around his neck that he’s just come out from a shower. 

No armor! Corin realizes he’s basically seeing the man in his kriffing underwear and embarrassed heat flares up in his face. “I’m sorry, I, uh, I just…” Corin stutters. “I…”

“You, yes, that is you, good boy. Such a clever boy.” Raga drawls. She’s wearing her helmet and her armor, thank the stars, and she’s sitting cross-legged on the bed with Liita sitting cross-legged in front of her as Raga braids her dark hair.

“Raga,” Paz admonishes halfheartedly, “be nice.” Good luck has him in a good mood.

Corin has half a second to feel gratitude for the words in his defense before a huge arm goes around his shoulders and he’s side against side with Paz. Without his armor! Corin can feel human warmth instead of Beskar. He can’t look at Paz, so Corin stares at Raga and the stone-faced Liita instead.

“No one can be this pretty and be blessed with brains too.” Paz finishes, and, yeah, that’s more like him. So much for good luck.

Raga glances over at them and snorts a faint laugh. “Okay, Corin, what’s on your mind?”

-No armor!

“A question…” Corin manages to choke the words out. “I was just wondering when-”

“What’s going on here?” Din’s voice cuts him off and, wow, does he sound displeased. Of course bad luck would send him this way at this moment.

While that would usually be enough to make Corin’s stomach clench with anxiety, he doesn’t get the chance to freak out over the tone of voice as he’s too surprised at by Paz suddenly wrapping him up in a hug with both arms and squeezing him tight.

Corin has never felt so small and frail in his life.

“Corin just realized he wanted to upgrade to a real Mandalorian.” Paz’ voice is pure evil.

The innuendo makes Corin’s face flare up to supernova hot with embarrassment. Despite knowing Paz is just provoking Din with words that not a single soul on the planet, Paz included, believes, the fact that he’s saying them without his armor on makes it impossible to ignore.

“Ha. Ha.” Din replies, not amused in the tiniest bit. “Let. Him. Go.” There is a promise of violence in every word.

“Guys.” Corin leans back and pushes himself free with ease as Paz lets go without a fight. “Don’t. Paz, Din, don’t.”

Despite wearing a helmet, there is no doubt that Paz is wearing an obnoxious smirk and watches Din like a predator batting his prey around. And Din, despite also wearing a helmet, is glaring viciously back at him.

“Din…” Corin pleads, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm. “Please?”

He can almost ‘hear’ Din grinding his teeth as he tries to get his temper under control and eventually succeeds.

Din gives a sharp nod.

Relieved, thanking his good luck, Corin glances back at Raga. “Raga. I need to ask you something later. Alone. Okay?”

Focused on her work on Liita’s hair, Raga shrugs.

Corin turns to Din, who is giving him a suspicious helmet-tilt, but he eases his Mandalorian to turn around and for them to walk away. “Yes, it is a secret, Din. But I’m hoping you might like it.”

Din makes a thoughtful sound, his shoulders easing down and hands unclenching, clearly curious and distracted by this, and Corin has a moment of triumph over how he’d managed to defuse the situation for once.

Bad luck cackles.

Too late he sees Paz pulling the towel from behind his neck to hold it between his hands and spin it around to twirl it into a weapon. He then quickly snaps the towel forward by just holding on to one end and delivers a sounding whip across Din’s butt.

WHAP!

The effect is instantaneous. Din roars with fury, spins around and charges directly into Paz, who grabs a hold of his backplate and flings him away to slam against the wall, and the fight is on.

Liita looks over at the two taking turns at slamming each other into the walls, both of them grunting with effort and the discomfort, and Corin yelling their names. “You could stop them, Raga.”

“I could.” Raga agrees, squinting her eyes a little as she works on a rather complicated bit of the braid.

“Why don’t you?”

Laughing a little, ignoring Paz’ sound of pain as Din’s fist hits his unprotected ribs and Din’s wheeze when Paz shoulder-tackles him in return, Raga keeps working. “If I was to stop them every time they get into a fight, I wouldn’t be doing anything else with my life.” She shrugs. “I only step in when there’s danger of them really hurting each other or Din getting out of line.”

“Din?” Liita frowns, seeing how Paz is so obviously the bigger of the two. “What about Paz?”

“Paz is a bully.” Raga says with fondness, then pauses before quietly adding; “But Din is a killer.”

“What does that make you?” Liita asks.

“A genius.” Raga states, leaning back and admiring Liita’s hair. “An utter genius. This may be some of my best work, if I do say so myself.”

Seeing how words do not reach Paz and Din, Corin does the one thing he hopes will work and that he hates doing; he jumps between them. Curling up, closing his eyes, he waits for the pain.

It never comes. Good luck is on his side.

Corin carefully opens his eyes and sees both Mandalorians glaring at each other but refusing to risk harming Corin by trying to keep the fight going. Thank Mandalor. If this didn’t work, Corin would have had to physically drag Raga over to them and he suspects that would hurt more than getting punched by Paz and Din at the same time.

“Enough!” Corin snaps. He reaches out and shoves one hand at each man’s chest, making them back up a step. “Me and Din are leaving.” Corin then points up at Paz’ visor with such force that the blue helmet actually flinches back a little. “And you; get dressed!”

Dragging the sulking Din along, Corin hears Paz’ confused mumble; “But I ‘am’ dressed…?” and notes Din’s discrete rubbing where the towel was bound to have left a mark.

Corin’s face flares up again.

He needs a drink…!

Start Again - Chapter Seven (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: After being ambushed by the pair of Devaronians, you and the Mandalorian make the decision to expedite your journey into the city of Opseg. Upon your arrival, the city and its people welcome you with open arms and you find out more about what the Empire did to you while in their custody. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mentions of attack from the previous chapter, panic attacks, medical procedures including sedation, and VERY heavy discussion of forced sterilization. 

Author’s Note: This is my longest chapter yet at 3.2k words! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter and I hope I can be back on my regular update schedule. Feel free to reblog and like!

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE DIAGNOSIS

Trekking through the canyon might’ve been easier if you didn’t have such a debilitating headache. The bacta patch had healed the wound in your hairline, but your eye was still swelling and your head ached in a way that you hadn’t felt in months. In the back of your mind, a part of you really wished you had the Puvion leaves to alleviate the headache. The leaves had always worked better than any bacta spray or patch.

Your heart still raced at the thought of what happened earlier in the morning. Waking up to two Devaronians sniffing around your camp wasn’t exactly what you had in mind of a good morning. When they noticed you were awake, there was zero hesitation to take you out. They had even managed to do so quietly enough that it didn’t wake the Mandalorian.

The swelling at your eye aches as a reminder of how quickly they had managed to take you down. Your lack of training had made it easy, before you could even swing up your knife to defend yourself, the one Devaronian, Zek, punched you hard enough for you to see stars. There wasn’t much fight left in you after that.

When they noticed the Mandalorian, however, their motives changed. It wasn’t about kidnapping you and keeping you as their prize for the day, but instead getting the armor off the Mandalorian and selling it. Had they been successful they would’ve walked away with both you and possibly thousands of credits after pawning off the armor.  

But the Mandalorian had handled it, wielding his saber as he easily killed the two mercenaries. It still took your breath away thinking about how he had moved with it, fluid and precise. He may have held the weapon like it burned him, but he used it like second nature.

Your feet hit solid ground and you look up, eyeing the bustling city of Opseg around you. It was noisier than Tatooine. Children scream with joy as they run past you, disappearing into the crowd of people looking to buy the latest products. Fine jewelry and clothing were hung up on display, shopkeepers shouting prices to interested onlookers. The savory smell of vegetables cooking fills your nose and you turn to see another line of shops, these ones selling hot meals. The sights and sounds were both exciting and overwhelming all at the same time.  

“This is insane…” you say, laughing slightly. You had never experienced anything like this before, a city with life. Tatooine was nothing compared to this.

“It’s not insane, my dear! This is Opseg!” A voice shouts behind you, startling you. You turn and a green humanoid alien grins at you. The friendliness waving off this stranger is almost as overwhelming as Orus itself. You wondered if everyone on Orus was like this.

The Mandalorian steps just in front of you, putting a barrier between you and the stranger. You hadn’t hired him to be a bodyguard but given the events earlier this morning and your lack of training, you let it slide this time. Besides, you were tired of being snuck upon.

“Ah, apologies, my name is Ortib-Blik! But you can call me Obie for short,” The alien extends his hand out, clearing his throat when the Mandalorian doesn’t offer his hand in return. “I’m a tour guide here in Opseg. You looked lost, so I figured I’d offer my help.” He offers a sheepish smile when the Mandalorian doesn’t say anything.

“Hello Obie,” you greet, stepping to the side of the Mandalorian in order to introduce yourself. “We’re just passing through; we need to find a medcenter.”

“I’d assume it’s for that wound on your eye?” Obie asks, pointing at where your eye swells. You nod and he grins again. “Well, you’re just in luck, the medcenter is taking walk-ins today!”

“How much is a physical?” Mando asks from behind you.

“It’s free!” Obie exclaims, “Even to non-Orus citizens.”

“Is there work I can find here?” Mando asks and Obie’s expression changes.

“Yes, plenty! You look more like a hunter, so I’m sure if you were to stop by any of Opseg’s twenty cantinas you’d find something.”

You balk at the number, looking at the Mandalorian. You forget his facial expression is hidden by the helmet, but you can assume he’s also surprised. Twenty cantinas was an incredibly high amount and you couldn’t imagine the work going into finding a job would be worth it.  

“Thank you, Obie, but I think we’ll take it from here.” You offer a tight smile to the alien.

“Of course, of course! If you have any questions, don’t be afraid to shout!” He says, waving as he departs down the street.

“I think he was a lot nicer than the Devaronians that greeted us this morning,” you say, smiling when the Mandalorian sighs. “Too soon?” you chuckle.

“A little, yeah,” Mando says, turning around as he looked down the street. It seemed everywhere you look that it was teeming with life, people shouting and laughing. The shopkeepers yell over the playing children as parents stress over prices. This is way better than life on Puvo, you thought.

Puvo had its moments, the winter festival brought out a certain life in its citizens. Winter seasons were so rare that they celebrated the first indication of winter, whether it was a significant drop in temperature or animals beginning their hibernation. You had only ever experienced one festival and it was during the time your mind was still mending itself back together. But you remembered the laughing, the dancing, and the singing.

Valara had spent hours showing you how to braid her hair, repeating the motions over and over until you finally got it. She looked so happy dancing with that one boy from the neighboring village. Impressions meant everything on Puvo and she took it to heart when the boy didn’t offer another date after the festival. You had been too busy recovering to offer her any comfort, but Valara had moved on, throwing herself into work.  

They hadn’t even celebrated the last winter festival. There was too much work to be done, the council had announced. A cloud of depression remained over the village for some time. Valara mentioned it reminded her of when the Empire was still in power. The depressive atmosphere took a toll on your already weakened mental health. Try as she might, Valara’s grandmother struggled to pull you out of that episode. It had been one of the many deciding factors to leave Puvo, at least for the sake of your own well-being.

“We’re in the town square at the moment,” The Mandalorian says. The memories of Puvo fade as you focus your attention. “Medcenter shouldn’t be too far from here.”

“Right,” you murmur, “and what are you going to do while I’m being seen?”

“The guide said twenty cantinas, I have to start somewhere. Most of them are downtown. Small, shouldn’t be too hard to get through all of them before you’re done.” Mando replies, looking to you for confirmation. You nod.

The walk to the medcenter isn’t much. You manage to escape the craziness that’s the town square, there’s not as much yelling, but there’s still plenty of children running around their exasperated parents. It’s clear you’ve entered one of the housing areas, women and men alike staring as you both continue your path. The Mandalorian doesn’t seem to mind the stares. He’s probably used to it by now, you think.

The medcenter is daunting when you approach it. The all-white building amidst desert brown was shocking at first, freezing you in your movement as you stared at the twin doors in front of you. What if they found out something was wrong with you? What if it couldn’t be fixed? Your mind spirals at the idea of what could go wrong, words and thoughts jumbling together. Would they take you away from the Mandalorian? Send you back to Puvo so you can really get better? Institutionalize you? You weren’t that crazy…

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to the Mandalorian. He remains silent and you wonder if you’ve finally managed to make him angry.

“You can. I’ll be there with you the whole time.” He speaks.

“But-but you said you’d—”

“I know what I said earlier.” He murmurs, “But you’re clearly in distress and it’s better for me to stay close, especially in a city as big as this one. The cantinas can wait.”

You’re not sure if his words really soothe your nerves. Your heart is still racing at your earlier thoughts and it’s quickly becoming harder to breathe. He was promising to stay but would he be there when they read off what was wrong with you? Suddenly being on Puvo didn’t sound so bad after all.

You jump when the door opens behind you.

“Hello, I am Oralia. I am a nurse here at the Opseg Medical Center.” A Mirialan woman greets you. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The kindness in the woman’s voice makes you freeze again. You’re unsure what to say, what to tell her. Do you start with the current injuries you have? Do you tell her about your purpose for visiting before you were even attacked? Could she tell you were overloaded with anxiety? You were probably shaking like a wet Loth-cat.

“Miss, are you alright?” Oralia asks you and you shake your head. With gentle hands, she lifts your face, her warm eyes examining the wound by your eye and the peeling bacta patch. “Are you with her, sir?” Oralia asks the Mandalorian.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Let’s get her taken care of.” The nurse says, grasping your elbow with a comforting hand as she walks you through the doors. You can hear the Mandalorian’s boots just behind you as Oralia walks you past the front desk into a smaller room.

“Is she going to be alright?” The Mandalorian asks, watching as Oralia lays you on the examination table. The lights are too bright in this room, it’s almost a startling reminder of that nightmare you had days ago. Strapped down to a table and subjected to torture, you never wanted to experience that again. Not again, not again, not again…

“She is having a panic attack,” Oralia replies in a calm manner, placing a wet cloth against your burning forehead. Their voices sound distant, muted even as you try and get over this attack. It’s so much worse than the ones before, your limbs feel numb and weightless all at the same time and the sterile smell of the room fills your senses. It only makes the panic worse.

A whisper of “I’m sorry” and the white ceiling blurs above you, your eyelids become too heavy to keep open. Sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, the room is the same. White walls and white ceilings stare back at you as you try to take in your new environment. The softness of a bed fills the fists of your hands. They must’ve moved you while you were still sleeping. Sitting up, careful of the needle in your arm, you look around in confusion. Where was Mando? What happened? How long were you asleep for?

“It is good to see that you are awake,” a voice greets you. Oralia. The nurse from earlier.

“Where is the Mandalorian?” You ask, not sure whether or not you can trust her.

“He is out. I told him to walk off his anger.” The nurse replies. She walks over to your bedside and examines the IV needle in the crook of your elbow. The skin is bruised but you’re not sure if it’s her work or from the Devaronians from earlier.

“Does he know I’m awake?”

“He will return, I am sure. You needed fluids in your system as well as a proper examination, but only one of those things I could do while you were asleep.” Oralia replies, examining the needle in the crook of your elbow. Adjusting the bandages, she looks at you with a kind smile.

“Did I pass out?” The last moments before falling asleep aren’t clear, only a blur of pictures and muted dialogue.

“You did not. I sedated you. Your panic consumed you and even my years of training could not walk you down from that.” she murmurs, removing the needle from your vein with calm precision. A small bead of blood pools out and she wipes it away, before wrapping the tiny wound.

Bringing your hand to your face, you feel along where your eye had been bruised. Clearly, it had been treated in your sleep as the skin is no longer tender to your touch. The patch just before your hairline is also gone, the skin smooth with no evidence of a scar.

“I am surprised you made it as far as you did. The Mandalorian told me a great deal of what happened to you both this morning. A pair of Devaronians?”

“Yes,” you say in response. She doesn’t urge you for any more of the story, but you tell her anyways. “The Mandalorian held his own. I, well, I didn’t.” Oralia chuckles at your statement.

“You are brave.” She compliments and you feel your skin growing hot at the statement. “It takes a lot for a woman like you to travel the galaxy. Much less with a Mandalorian.”

“I’m searching for answers. I was a victim of the Imperials and they took my son from me. The Mandalorian is helping me find him.” You tell her and she hums, finishing her work on the bandage just in the crook of your elbow.

“You have other wounds,” Oralia says, this time her hand placing itself right above your heart. You look down at where her hand is and you nod, looking away from her in shame. “I will grab Dr. Orn.”

The door opens with a soft whoosh sound and Oralia departs. You’re left in silence, pondering over your thoughts again. You didn’t want to have another panic attack. Taking a deep breath, you think about where the Mandalorian may be. Oralia had told him to walk off his anger. Why had he been so angry? Was it because you were asleep for so long? Thinking on it, it was some of the best sleep you had in a long time. No nightmares, no memories weaving themselves into dreams.

A click and the door opens again, this time Oralia is followed by a human woman. Dr. Orn, you deduce. Dr. Orn quietly walks over to your bedside and examines what you think is your chart on a datapad. The information displayed is not in basic and you frown.

“Hello,” Dr. Orn greets you. She’s older, possibly a few years shy of Valara’s grandmother but her eyes hold the same kindness. Dr. Orn says your name and you blink, looking back up at her. “We did some bloodwork. First, I would like to welcome you to Orus and we’re grateful that you chose our medcenter as the place to handle your healthcare needs. Second, your bloodwork came back great.”

A sigh of relief. “That’s great,” you murmur and Dr. Orn smiles.

“Oralia did some investigating on your chain code and there’s no record of you in any system, not even ex-Imperial. I’m sure you were aware, as was the Mandalorian. He was kind enough to give us what little information you had on yourself. But given the current state of your health, you are in great shape. Minimal scarring from the leaves of Puvo, which is great. I’m sure you’re aware of the ongoing mental healing you’re going through, but with time, you can work through the nightmares and panic attacks. However, there is something I want to note.”

Dr. Orn displays the datapad to you, this time the information is in basic. A rundown of what medical records they could establish for you. One healthy pregnancy was just one of the few things that caught your eye.

“It’s great to see that you’ve been able to have a healthy pregnancy. Oralia tells me you had a son, about fifteen years ago, correct?” Dr. Orn asks you, pointing at the profile they had made of your son. It was blank except for his name and estimated age. You were listed as his mother, but the name underneath FATHER remained blank.

“Yes. Castin. He was about ten when he was taken from me,” you reply, hand reaching out to skim through the notes they had established for you. Most of the information was blank, mostly because it was unknown, even to you.

“Good, good, as you can already tell we’ve logged that in the file we created for you.” Dr. Orn smiles before she brings the datapad closer to herself and removing it from your view. “However, we detected some anomalies in your blood. A woman of your age should be producing the normal hormones that regulate a menstrual cycle. We found that there was a lack of most of those hormones. Can you tell me when your last cycle was?”

You open your mouth to give a quick answer but quickly realize you don’t know. When you had arrived on Puvo, Valara had explained it was a possibility that your cycle would be irregular, considering everything your body had been through. But now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t even noticed a lack in your cycle. You had been distracted by the ongoing therapy and work on Puvo.

“I-I don’t know…possibly after I gave birth to Castin but I don’t really remember,” you chewed at your bottom lip. What could it mean for you?

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Dr. Orn sighs, looking back down at the datapad. Her fingers tap on the screen, possibly logging what you had said. “You see, when we did your blood test, we found the lack of hormones a sign that you were not having a regular cycle. It’s not unusual, travel can bring stress on the body and I’ve been informed of what happened in your past, but for you, it means something else. When the Empire had you in their custody, what exactly do you remember them doing to you?”

You can feel Oralia’s comforting hand on your lower back, rubbing circles to soothe your nerves. You weren’t sure if you actually felt soothed, but you took a deep breath.

“It’s mostly a blur, I remember the electrocution and how painful it was, but beyond that, I don’t know.” You inform her, your hands twisting together in your lap. Why was she dragging this out? How bad could it possibly be?

“I see,” Dr. Orn hums. You watch as her hand reaches out, resting on your knee. A gentle touch. “When the Empire had you in their custody, most likely while you were in between torture sessions, they performed a surgery to sterilize you. The lack of hormones in your blood and lack of cycle leads us to believe that this is true. I am terribly sorry that you had to suffer under their hand. If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.” Her face says it all, the sincereness in her tone and the sympathy in her eyes. The realization of the diagnosis hits you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Even with Oralia’s hand on your back, you weep.

Read Chapter Eight - Finally, A Lead here!

since I love your headcanons/meta (if you're up to it) can I have your thoughts on the guard + fashion

andy

Andy probably has a pretty complicated relationship with fashion, like i think she does with most things in the modern world given the fact that it’s only a tiny spec of her lifetime

She’s spent her life watching thousands upon thousands of fashion trends come and go and was alive during the creation of many fabrics themselves

She’s been a warrior her entire life, we may not know the manner of her first death (or at least not from the movies) but we know she’s spent most of her life as an immortal fighting, both before and after she met quynh

Fashion for her was always at the very least comfortable and flexible, something she could travel and fight in without a moment’s notice

But to some extent how she looks, her image is a very important aspect of her, especially in the earlier part of her life

She was a famed fighter for so long, earning her name “fighter of man”, there were probably stories told of her and quynh, warrior women who no one can defeat, her clothing at that time at least semi reflected that, she wanted to be seen as “unbreakable” as she says in the movie

She had probably minimal armor, after all she doesn’t need it technically and would only prefer it to have less healing time if she took on less damage, but her clothing showed exactly who she was, every bit the warrior

As practical as she is, who she appears to be is still probably very much still tied to her identity, she may not be known anymore and doesn’t even want to be for the sake of their safety but her clothes are not just strictly practical, rather than be the warrior of myth she has now become a warrior of the modern age, a warrior of the shadows

Her clothes still reflect her younger self, the famed warrior, just scaled back and modernized. She wears calf-high boots, arm braces and fitted clothing in all black  she cuts quite and imposing figure and that’s what i think she wants. She doesn’t necessarily use it to intimidate others, as her younger self may have done, this time her clothing is now to make her still feel powerful, a reflection of who she is now: skilled and deadly, ready at a moments notice to protect those she loves

While jeans and a tank top is a perfectly normal outfit, with the boots and braces you’d do a double take, wondering who she was, but it’s meant to blend in just enough but if you look closely enough at how tight the boots are laced and her posture, tank top carefully tucked in you’d start to wonder

I think she does actually like fashion, she’s seen so much of it and she probably sees things that remind her of something she saw hundreds of years ago, like seeing trends pop up again and it fills her with nostalgia. It reminds her of when she was in love with humanity, loved seeing what people created and invented and when she truly believed in their cause

But things definitely changed after quynh was thrown in the ocean, just had a less of desire and the clothes probably reminded her of quynh, what’d she’d wear and what she’d get for andy to wear and as modern times came around she stuck to stuff that was more practical, still a little fashionable, but stuff that could be worn doing anything from sleeping to fighting

I think her clothing in the movie, mostly black, reflects who she is as this time: a powerful and strong warrior who’s also afraid, she’s afraid that she spent her life fighting for something that doesn’t matter but also (pre-nile) afraid of what she’s going to do now that she said the world could burn - what does a 6,000+ immortal warrior do then?

booker

Booker is not unfashionable, and while his relatively apathetic and cynical nature might make you think fashion isn’t something he would care about, i think he does

He isn’t like joe who would go the extra step to make an outfit more aesthetically pleasing, but also he isn’t as super practical as nicky (he keeps his gun in his pants for fuck’s sake)

Booker is tired and wants to feel normal, to feel his humanity that he feels is slipping away from him even though it’s already been 200 years - he’s still adjusting and that’s because he never wanted this and still doesn’t completely accept this is his life now (hence at least a partial reason for his betrayal)

But i don’t booker is one to make too much of a fuss about what he’s wearing, he wants simple clothing that won’t make him look out of place, especially since he was the one who met with copley for that previous mission maybe he is the one who scouts missions as their seemingly resident computer person

So he goes for what a lot of people do: classic pieces of clothing in selection of relatively neutral colors that all work together. In their life it’s important to have clothes at the ready, both in their bags and at their safehouses and i’d bet at least most of his stuff would work together with no issues

Aside from the tac outfit of course, he mainly wears an assortment of jeans, boots, button downs and leather jackets in mostly blacks and grays with a couple faded blues and greens - any of these can be thrown on without an issue, it looks like a complete outfit and nothing about how he’s dressed is any way going to attrract attention

Plus this man doesn’t care enough about himself to make him look good rather than just being fine with what he has, he wants to die and doesn’t allow himself to feel the love he has from his family, dressing up to him isn’t going to add anything or make anything better

So in the sequel i’d love to see him deal with his pain and his betrayal head on and who knows maybe joe will buy him some zipper pants too and maybe booker will actually like them

nicky

Nicky is the other more practical one other than andy, but he lacks her attempt at keeping at appearances/empowerment

The majority of movies he’s wearing plain t-shirts and regular jeans with dad jackets, the only slightly impractical fashion choice being his hoodie from the tac outfit, which it does cover him up completely and allows him to cover his face more if needed but also it’s hot (i also like that post comparing the hoodie to the crusader’s chainmail helmet)

But nicky in essence is practical, he’s the protector of the group, always watching and always on the edges, he doesn’t care much i think for what he wears as long as it allows him to do his job

Yes of course he participated in fashions over the years, and will wear things joe picks out for him and occasionally what he picks out for himself, but that stuff is not for when there is a mission, not when people need help

But i think he usually gravitates towards simple like andy, something to run and fight in but he lacks andy’s past of fame, reverence, and notoriety (at least in the way she had it - he did fight in the crusades after all) so his clothing isn’t to do anything for him but to act as clothing, it holds no mental power over him, he has no image to project - he’s done so much that he wants to help people and protect his family and that’s it

I don’t think growing up in genoa before the crusades lent itself to that many fashion opportunities and while we aren’t sure of his exact status, i don’t think any of the guard were particularly wealthy (except possibly yusuf as the son of merchants) and being a priest at the time i’m sure didn’t make him wealthy in his adulthood either

And while he’s lived 900+ years, the way you grew up doesn’t just leave you, he was at least catholic, and i still think he holds his faith close, just in a different way now

Plus look at his tac outfit, the most comfortable looking (it is a hoodie after all) and he has half a dozen guns strapped to himself along with sword, he wants the ability to carry his things comfortably without impeding him in any way, he wants to be totally and completely prepared and is very much the typical dad in this sense, everything must be on hand so he can protect those he loves

Also you know this man owns cargo pants much to joe’s dismay

joe

we all know joe is the fashionable male among the guard, i mean the backwards baseball cap and the zipper pants? yeah

in his tac outfit, the hat really adds nothing to it besides aesthetic, it’s not shielding his eyes from the sun because he’s wearing sunglasses and it doesn’t aid him in any way during a fight unless he had decided to pull a booker and do “whatever works” and just like hit someone with it - it’s a purely aesthetic choice

but joe was the child of merchants and lived in an area with a rich history of colorful and beautiful fashion, the region was known for the lightweight fabrics and light silks that during the crusades, many were brought back to europe and astounded the europeans

i think that has stayed with joe, that complete appreciation and awe at the craft of making clothing and using clothing to show yourself and personality 

joe is also a man of the arts, there was so much poetry and arts in the maghreb region, and while that existed in italy as well, nicky was a priest and probably wasn’t exposed to it much outside a religious context

joe is also an artist himself, he has such a grand appreciation for aesthetics and while clothing purely for aesthetics isn’t practical for the life they live unless they are on a break, he manages to infuse his clothing with his personality nonetheless

the backwards hat was fun, unnecessary but it also didn’t get in the way of his fighting. he probably just enjoyed the look (and i know we all did too) and the leather jacket with the hoodie and zippered pants at the end scene was just such an effortless cool look that was still practical but had a lot more personality and an attempted look™ than say nicky and his dad jacket

nile

most of what nile is wearing in the movie isn’t her choice of clothing, not that i don’t think she’d absolutely pick out that green bomber jacket but in the movie she wasn’t the one who picked it, it was packed for her

but the outfit she wears in the end is just like her, trendy and young and refreshing given that the rest of the guard sticks to their own styles they’ve been in the whole movie

but nile is the one who is most likely to branch out, she’s only in her late 20s and by her last scene in the movie it’s only been maybe a week or so since she became immortal, she hasn’t evolved a ‘be ready to fight’ kind of fashion and doesn��t have the hundreds of years of experience telling her to buy things that she can fight in as well as sleep in - now she was in the marines so to some extent but not with her own personal clothing choices

despite her chaotic introduction to being immortal, it won’t set in for a while that their lives are running from one danger to the next, taking breaks when they can, especially with andy’s renewed commitment to the job she and the others set out to accomplish, her clothing style will probably change as she settles into this new life

but we can see in her last scene, she is wearing comfortable clothing, a fitted shirt with a stylish yet somewhat more loose fitting jacket and looser pants (they look like joggers and i can’t completely remember if they are or not)

so while her clothes are comfortable, they are more fashionable than any of the others, and while this probably has lots to do with her age i think it’s very important to her current state of mind

she’s had the most insane weeks of her life, found out she’s not going to die for a very long time, found out there are others like her, and had to say goodbye to her family without seeing them again because she’s decided to stick with her new life

and this is a massive change for her, after being in the military for quite a few years, assuming she joined when she around 18-20 which i think she did enlist then especially given the fact that her dad passed when she was younger

life in the military is very controlled, so her having this sudden new gift but also this vast wide open future is probably terrifying to her, so much has changed so quickly, she hasn’t had the time to properly sort through how she’s feeling and truly realizing what this life means

her clothes are a reflection of one thing in her life she can currently control because she can’t control what’s going to happen in the world and where copley will find them a job or where they will be at any one time but she has control over herself so she dresses herself how she wants, how she’d dress if she was home

it’s some semblance of normality, some piece of herself that hasn’t changed and that she wants to express

quynh

while we don’t see quynh much besides in flashbacks and then in the final scene i think fashion is going to be something important to her

she spent 500 years drowning, unable to do anything, unable to save herself

nile said she was feeling insane and angry, quynh spent 500 years without an ounce of control over what was happening to her and regaining her life is something she is not going to take for granted

she’s going to live her life to the fullest, which includes wearing whatever she likes and wearing the colors she loves and the clothing that makes her feel beautiful and badass and powerful - a little like andy and a little like nile

it’s a huge part of her life she’s regained, clothing is something the whole world sees and part of how we perceive people and in a world that she doesn’t know at all she’ll want to craft herself an image because clothing is still one thing she can understand - the styles are all different but i have no doubts it’s something she took to quite quickly, having something she can control completely

Giants in the Sky - Part 1

As I promised, here - at long, long last - is a story based on “My Hero Academia!” This is actually an AU story I came up with, intending it as a trade with another person (who shall remain anonymous). That person found their schedule was way too busy, and as time went on, I decided it might be best to just give this AU a try myself. So here I am to do so! As I said, originally this was going to be a two-parter, but I decided to change it into two separate stories, and each story itself will be two parts...effectively making this a four-parter. (Get it? Got it. Good.) I’m going to begin work on the second story hopefully this week, but in the meantime, here’s the first tale. Part one goes up today, part two shall be up tomorrow. This first part is primarily exposition/plot-based; the “fun stuff” comes in the next half, and trust me, there’s PLENTY of it. >:)

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Once Upon a Time, in a Kingdom Far, Far Away… The Green Knight smiled, his armor shining like emeralds as he stepped out into the sunlight. He walked out with pride – a young man whose freckled face and wild, dark green hair belied his bravery and chivalry. He held his helmet under one arm, the other gripping his sword, as he stared down at the crowd of people below him. His heart swelled and he nearly felt like crying as he heard them all cheering his name…then came the voice of the King himself, echoing in his ears and making his pulses sing with joy. “All Hail Sir Midoriya of Shi-Tan! The Greatest Warrior in All of Ua! A True Hero!” The crowd cheered louder. The Green Knight closed his eyes and sighed, warmth fluttering in his heart. In truth, the adulation was just a bonus: as he heard the voices calling up his name, he knew he had helped them all. He had saved many lives by slaying the terrible Dragon of Belfast, and now they could sleep peacefully – be they peasant or nobleman – without fear of danger and destruction. Every single voice…every single life…they’d all be happy and secure. That was what truly mattered…but the recognition was nice. He felt…like he finally belonged. Like he was where he was always meant to be; where he’d wanted to be for his entire short, young life. So many years of struggle and toil…and now, here he was, his praises being sung across the empire. He whispered the words he’d heard to himself, dreamily, as he felt the warm Sun upon his youthful face: “A True Hero…” “OI! MIDORIYA!” “YAH!” Izuku Midoriya’s eyes jolted open and he jumped about a foot in the air. He gasped and panted, looking around himself in alarm, a glimmer of confusion in his wide, bright green eyes. The Castle and its courtyard had disappeared. He found himself in a wide, brown field; to one side of the field, not so far away, was the edge of the forest; just over the tops of the trees, he could see the distant, glittering, pearly shine of the Castle he’d been daydreaming about. To the other side was the farm where he worked. He looked down at himself, and sighed somewhat dismally; his beautiful green armor had been replaced with a peasant’s tunic of green, along with a dull red vest and matching shoes, his green trousers held in place by a white rope belt. Before him was the plough he had been working, pulled by a dull-eyed donkey, which swished its tail lazily as it looked back at him, serene patience in its half-lidded eyes. Midoriya smiled bashfully at the plough animal. “Sorry, Mineta,” he said to the donkey, scratching the back of his head. “I got distracted I guess…” “You do that too often.”

Midoriya blinked and froze. “…Did you just talk?” he asked the donkey. The donkey snorted, and then the voice came again… “No, you little fool. It was me. The one who pays you and gives you a home, remember?” WHAPP! Midoriya yelped and turned around as a light but firm swat bapped him upside the head. He timidly looked up and chuckled nervously at the figure who had smacked him. “Oh…uh…s-sorry, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa was a tall, thin man. His black hair was long and frequently unkempt, his unshaven face abnormally pale. Between these features and his seemingly permanently bloodshot eyes, Midoriya often worried the head farmer would flop over from lack of sleep. “What do you expect?” the farmer would say, when the youth addressed him about the issue. “I have to deal with you and that other rambunctious kid every day, ANYONE would lose sleep.” Aizawa frowned, and Midoriya flinched back; there was always such a dangerous, smoldering look in the older farmer’s eyes when he was irate…which was quite often. The irises could go from hollow and almost lifeless to sharp as daggers or hot as scorching flames in an instant. He wore dark clothes that were a little nicer than Midoriya’s, but not by much; with a grunt, he jabbed a thumb towards the cattle pen on the premises. “Kaminari’s having trouble with Milky White,” Aizawa grumbled. “One of you can finish ploughing later. Right now, put Mineta away and then go help him out.” Midoriya’s smile became less nervous, and he nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir,” he said, and set about undoing the plough and bringing Mineta with him by the halter to the barn where the donkey slept. Aizawa’s farm produced three things: a great abundance of poultry, with the chickens being sold to market at regular intervals, and of course the wheat in the fields…and milk. The milk all came from a single cow: an old heifer appropriately named Milky White. The name not only came from the cow’s appearance – with short, coarse hair of purest, snowy white all over her body, not a speckle of brown or black to be found beyond her huge, doe-like eyes – but for the product she put forth. Far and wide, across the Kingdom of Ua, the milk was considered to be the whitest dairy anybody had ever seen. It fetched quite a handsome price at market, far more than the chickens or the wheat ever did, and allowed the trio who dwelled on the farm to get by well enough. Midoriya had lived on the farm most of his life; he and Kaminari were orphans who had met on the streets and befriended each other. One day, many moons ago – the two were scarcely older than seven – Kaminari had suggested breaking into the home of the farmer who lived alone at the edge of the woods: Shota Aizawa. Midoriya had been hesitant, and to this day, Kaminari claimed it was his hesitant nature that got them caught (though Midoriya was fairly sure it was more likely how much noise Kaminari made while they were breaking in). Instead of turning them into the authorities – the Kingdom was not kind to thieves – Aizawa had decided the two would work on his farm for a while to “pay their debt.” That was how it had started…but after some time, the farm became like home, and the pair just…stayed there. Aizawa never seriously complained. The keyword being seriously. He ALWAYS complained. In the years he’d spent on the farm, Midoriya had developed a much closer relation to Milky White than Kaminari. After putting Mineta away, the young man with green hair trotted to the cattle pen; Milky White quietly grazed on a big trough full of barley. Beside her was a battered wooden stool, and seated on the stool was another young man – sharp-featured and with unusual, amber-colored eyes – his messy blonde hair swept away from his face. He was glaring and grinding his teeth with frustration, trying to squeeze milk out of the cow’s udders. “Rrrrgh…it’s no good!” he snapped as Midoriya stepped through the gate into the pen. He threw up his hands in defeat as he continued: “I can never get her to give me anything! It’s like she clams up!” Midoriya chuckled; his blonde friend pouted childishly. “You’re always either too rough or too gentle,” he said, patting Kaminari’s shoulder, then smiled helpfully. “Let me try: she should give me something.” Kaminari sighed and nodded in supplication, then got up from the milking stool. Midoriya sat down and gently stroked Milky White’s side. The cow let out a pleased moo, and he then began to try and milk the creature. However, after several tries, his smile faded. He was doing everything the way he always did, yet absolutely nothing was coming out. “Hey…what’s wrong, old girl?” he asked softly, patting the cow’s side. Milky White’s rather sleepy-looking eyes looked towards him and she blinked slowly. “Huh? You’re having trouble, too?” Kaminari asked, kneeling down; he’d been watching to try and figure out what he’d been doing wrong. The blonde frowned; Midoriya had NEVER failed to get milk before. “Yeah,” the green-haired boy nodded, and a worried expression crossed his face. “The past two weeks, she’s been giving less and less…maybe it’s something we’ve been feeding her?” “Impossible!” Kaminari insisted with a shake of his head. “We haven’t ever once changed her diet!” “Something wrong?” The two looked to see Aizawa leaning against the gate; he looked so tired, one swore the gate was all that was keeping him up. “She’s not milking,” Kaminari answered, gesturing to Milky White. Aizawa frowned, looking concerned and confused. He looked toward Midoriya…and tilted his head. The young man’s eyes were steadily moving between the udders and the bucket, an intense look of concentration on his face. His hand rubbed at his chin as he mumbled and muttered unintelligibly to himself. The head farmer and the blonde stable lad shared a look, then looked back to the other boy. “Oi,” Aizawa called out. “Izuku…kid, what do you think’s up?” Midoriya jumped and yelped, pulled out of thought again. He sighed with relief, and rubbed one arm. “Well…I-I was just thinking, Milky White is a pretty old cow,” he said slowly. A pause. “…And?” Kaminari pressed, while Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Oh! Um…well…I hate to say it, but maybe she’s just gotten to an age, finally, where she…can’t give milk anymore,” he shrugged. “It would explain why it’s been harder to manage her and why we’ve been getting less and less.” Milky White let out another moo, looking offended at the implications she was so old. Midoriya smiled and patted her side reassuringly. “I think you may be right,” Aizawa nodded, and sighed wearily. “Well…in that case, there’s only one thing to do.” “Um…make apple strudel?” Both Midoriya and Aizawa stared a Kaminari, who was smiling a dopey, chipper smile. “…No,” Aizawa answered slowly, then paused before elaborating simply: “We have to sell the cow.” “Sell her?!” gasped Midoriya, while Milky White’s own eyes widened in surprise, and she let out another moo that sounded quite alarmed. “Do we…d-do we really HAVE to?” “Yes,” Aizawa responded bluntly. “I don’t have the money to keep a cow on the farm that doesn’t put anything out. At least if we sell her, we’ll be able to make some money off her one last time; hopefully enough to buy another cow.” “But their milk won’t be nearly as good as hers!” protested Midoriya. “Probably not, but if she’s not giving ANY milk, that doesn’t make much difference, does it?” Izuku felt that couldn’t easily be denied, and bit his lip. “Don’t we have any other options?” Kaminari asked, noting the conflict on his friend’s face. Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Well, you could slaughter her yourselves, yeah.” The boys looked VERY ill, and Milky White was visibly shaking. “Yeeeeaaaah…I-I’mma pass on that,” shuddered Kaminari. “Then it’s settled,” Aizawa sniffed. “At least if she’s sold, she might be able to be a pet instead of someone’s dinner,” murmured Midoriya, rather sadly. Aizawa decided it wasn’t worth telling the rather forlorn-looking boy how unlikely that was. “Who’ll be in charge of giving her away?” Kaminari asked, while Midoriya petted the cow’s side gently. “I have some work I still need to do of my own,” Aizawa said, and pointed to Izuku. “Midoriya, you’ll take Milky White to market.” “M-Me?!” squeaked out Izuku, eyes wide. “Hey! Why not me?!” huffed Kaminari. “I haven’t been to market in ages!” “There’s a reason for that,” droned Aizawa, giving the blonde a withering stare. “The last time I sent you into town, I asked you to buy a dozen apples. You came back with two dozen pears.” “Hey, in my defense, they do taste sort of similar, AND you got more than-” “And the time before that,” Aizawa pressed on, “I sent you into town to buy some meat, and you came back with cheese! MOLDY cheese!” “I…well, um…uh…” “And the time before THAT,” Aizawa nearly growled, “I sent you to buy some milk…and you came back covered in lipstick marks, babbling about some cute blonde who traded your money for PERFUME.” Silence. Kaminari flushed, lowered his head, and kicked at the ground. “…She c-called me handsome…” Midoriya closed his eyes and shook his head, while Aizawa sighed and slapped a hand over his face. He mumbled something about being cursed into his palm, then looked back to Midoriya. “This will be your first time in the market, at least for my sake,” he said, somewhat warningly. “Please, DON’T make the same mistakes Kaminari has made.” “I won’t,” Midoriya promised, and stood up from the stool. “How soon do I leave?” “At once. Get the halter and I’ll tell you how much to ask for her, and give you further instructions…”

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“No less than five pounds, no less than five pounds…”

Izuku Midoriya – a red cap perched upon his head – muttered the mantra to himself over and over again under his breath, as he led Milky White along a crooked, broken road. The route to market passed through the forest that surrounded the farm. It had been a very long time since Midoriya had set foot on the road, and he idly wondered if anyone in town would recognize him in the least as one of the two waifs that had rambunctiously lived about the streets. Milky White let out a sad moo; Midoriya smiled kindly and paused to pat the bovine’s snout. “I know, old girl, but don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’ll make sure you get a good home, if I can. I promise.” He thought the cow smiled faintly, but he wasn’t sure. The boy continued on his path, carefully looking from left to right; he road he was taking had curves, but no forks or other paths. It was a more or less straight shot to the marketplace from here. He still had a long ways to go, however, and the forest seemed to grow denser around him, the branches of the trees twining together as their tops swayed slightly with the breeze. He had often thought the woods could be frightening, but in truth, the forest was very beautiful; the green leaves seemed to sparkle in the sunlight that shimmered between them, and he could hear birds chirping overhead. As Midoriya walked, he soon came to a patch of forest thinner than the rest; through a gap in the trees, he looked up and saw the sky. Two huge, white, puffy clouds painted the blissful blue backdrop. A sweet, vacant, daydreaming smile came over the wandering urchin’s face. In his mind’s eye, one cloud looked like a knight preparing to duel a frightful monster, represented by the other cloud. He was so lost in his daydreams, that he failed to hear Milky White’s warning bellow. And a moment later… WHUMP! “Oof!” “Ach!” Izuku thudded into something – or, rather, someone – and stumbled back clumsily before landing on his bunce with a grunt. He heard the other person fall in the same manner. “Ow,” Midoriya mumbled, massaging his sore backside for a moment before climbing up onto his feet and moving towards the other person, apologizing hastily. “I-I’m so sorry!” Izuku pleaded, extending a helping hand. “I should have watched where I was going, I just-” “It’s okay, it’s okay, stop apologizing,” the other fellow said, and stood up brushing himself off. Midoriya stepped back, withdrawing his arm and looking over the man: he was tall and exceedingly lank, with a bony face and deeply-sunken blue eyes that gave him an overall almost skeletal appearance. A huge head of wavy blonde hair adorned his scalp, and he was dressed in what appeared to be a nobleman’s coat: gold in color, with black pinstripes. Midoriya gulped nervously, eyes widening as he took in the strange man’s appearance, nearly quivering. The Mysterious Man was clearly of noble blood; would the gentleman be angry with him? He really didn’t need any trouble, he just wanted to get to the market soon… “I’m…I d-didn’t mean to bump into you, sir,” he peeped timidly, and the man – who was dusting off his coat – raised an eyebrow in his direction. “If, um…if there’s anything I can do t-to make it up to you, uh…” “Nonsense,” the Mysterious Man smiled benevolently, and gave a wink and a wide, toothy smile. “Good morning to you, Young Midoriya!” Izuku froze, mouth clapping shut. He blinked. “…Good morning to you. Uh…h-how come you know my name?” “Where are you heading this morning?” the Man asked, politely, not at all answering the question. Midoriya frowned and took a slightly suspicious step back. “I’m going to market,” he responded, lifting the part of the halter he held in emphasis. “My master’s cow here won’t milk anymore, so we’re hoping to sell her. As a pet,” he clarified, in the firmest voice he could. “Hmmm,” smirked the Mysterious Man, lifting a hand to his chin and cocking his head to one side. “I see…” A pause. “Who are you, sir?” Midoriya thought to ask. “Call me Yagi,” the Man said, simply, then smiled a bit wider. “How much are you demanding for this cow, Young Midoriya?” “No less than five pounds,” recited Izuku. Yagi frowned slightly. “Why such a sum?” “Well…um…m-my Master told me to ask for it,” Midoriya answered, honestly, and with a hint of embarrassment. “Ahhh,” nodded Yagi, then smiled anew. “And what would you say if I offered you something worth more than money?” Midoriya blinked, and looked towards Milky White, who rolled her great brown eyes up at him skeptically. He then gave Yagi an equally dubious but also keenly interested sort of look. “Such as?” Yagi smirked, and bent down, placing his hands on his knees as he was now eye-to-eye with Izuku. “Tell me, Young Midoriya…if you can…how many beans make five?” “Two in each hand, and one in your mouth!” Midoriya chirruped back, sharp as a needle, remembering the old chestnut from when he was a little boy. “Right you are!” Yagi chuckled, and tapped Midoriya on the nose. He chuckled louder as the younger man let out a childish squeak and covered his “booped” nose protectively. “And here they are now: the very beans themselves.” So saying, and with a flourish of one hand, the Mysterious Man – seemingly out of nowhere – pulled out a handful of five large, strange-looking beans: each was the size of a cashew, and each was brightly colored in different shades – red, yellow, blue, green, and pink – so that they seemed to form a little rainbow patch in the tall, thin man’s palm. “And as you are so sharp, good Midoriya,” Yagi went on, “I don’t mind offering a trade with you: how about you swap your cow…for these extraordinary, extravagant, extra-large, extra-extra-extra beans?” Midoriya looked at the colorful beans, then Yagi’s face…and frowned, scrunching his brow and looking a little confused and more than a little doubtful. “No offense, sir, but…um…why would I trade my cow for some beans?” he said, sensibly. “I mean…especially when I’ve been asked to get money. It just…doesn’t seem very wise.” “Normally, I would agree with you,” Yagi nodded, his voice equally reasonable, as he then lifted the beans a bit higher, their colors almost seeming to glisten in the sunlight that peered through the treetops. “But you haven’t got the slightest idea of what sort of beans these are. These aren’t ordinary beans: they’re MAGIC beans.” Midoriya raised an eyebrow. “Magic?” “Yes,” Yagi said. “If you plant these beans tonight – under the light of the blue moon – by morning they’ll grow into a stalk tall enough to reach the top of the blue sky itself! And not an inch less.” Midoriya’s eyes widened; now he had some interest. “Really?” “Yes, really!” Yagi grinned widely, blue eyes wide and bright. “I would stake my reputation on it!” Midoriya bit his lip…then fiddled with the halter. Milky White moved her head slowly, swinging it to watch the conversation with her own sense of dopey interest. “Again, no offense, but…I don’t know you. Sir,” Midoriya reminded the Mysterious Man. “So…what kind of reputation can I trust a stranger to have?” Yagi opened his mouth to answer…then blinked…and paused, tilting his head and looking up to the sky. “Huh,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with a long, skinny finger. “That’s reasonable enough, Young Midoriya.” Midoriya nodded and gave the halter a tug, attempting to pass. “Right. Well, thank you for your offer, sir,” he said, politely, “But I just can’t-” “Hold on, hold on!” Yagi exclaimed, with such power in his voice it made Midoriya yelp and jump back in surprise. “Let me make you a deal: the time now is…” He paused, and – with his free hand, for the other still clutched the odd beans – reached into the pocket of his nobleman’s vest, pulling out a pocket watch – both as golden as his coat – and checked it before tucking it away again. “…The time now is six o’ clock,” he reported, and then went on: “If by tomorrow, at this hour, you discover anything has happened differently, in any way at all from what I promised…then you can meet me at this exact same spot, and I’ll give you the five pounds you asked for. Now there’s something we can agree on, yeah?” Izuku still looked unconvinced. Yagi’s eyes roamed up and down the young man’s form…and he sighed before kneeling down before him. “Young Midoriya,” he whispered softly, in a voice so low and so heartfelt it caught the green-haired youth off guard. “I know we’ve only just met…and I know you haven’t got much reason at all to trust me. But I have seen the way you looked at those clouds. I know of the daydreams people say you have. Tell me something: what do you wish for, more than anything in the world?” The young man paused before answering, figuring it would do no harm: “I want to be a hero. I want…I want to help people. I want to help my village, my friends, and I…I want to BE somebody. Not just a farmer’s helper, but…someone important.” “For money or fame?” “No. Not really. I mean…those are nice, but…just knowing I did something with my life, and knowing that I helped so many other people…that’s what I really want. I want to be remembered. And I…I want to do something amazing. Something that will be worth any risk if it helps others.” Yagi’s smile widened; there was a twinkle in the thin man’s eye. “I know those dreams very well,” he said sagely, and opened his hand once more, offering the beans to the youngster again as he went on: “Take these and plant them, just as I told you. I can’t promise you what will come of them will be easy for you. I can’t promise you it will be safe. I can’t even promise you that you won’t regret it. But if you do as I say…if you take this chance I’m giving you…maybe you can be a hero.” A pause. Midoriya took a deep breath. “…Do you promise to take care of Milky White?” “I do.” “And if anything does go wrong, you do promise to pay me the five pounds?” “I’ll make it ten, if you want.” Midoriya smiled. “Then I guess there’s nothing to lose, is there?” “I wouldn’t say that,” chuckled Yagi, “But you won’t be any worse off than you are now, will you?” “That’s true,” Midoriya nodded slowly in consideration…then smiled widely, eyes lighting up. “Alright! Deal!” The bargain was executed quickly, as Yagi pulled a small leather bag out of his coat pocket. He poured the beans inside, and traded the little bag for Milky White’s halter. “Farewell, Young Midoriya,” Yagi smiled, giving a mock salute to the young man. “And a pleasure doing business with you!” “Same to you,” Midoriya smiled, adjusting his scarlet cap, and turned away, opening the bag to inspect the beans. He took a few steps away, and made sure all five were inside. Nodding to himself, he turned around again, looking up, preparing to wave goodbye… …Only to find, to his amazement, that both Yagi and Milky White had seemingly vanished into thin air. Midoriya stared at the spot where they had stood…then looked at the bag of Magic Beans…then his smile returned, and with a whoop a laugh, he pocketed the beans and ran pell-mell back down the woodland path towards the farm. He couldn’t wait to see Mr. Aizawa’s reaction!

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

“YOU. LITTLE. FOOL.” With a snarl, five brightly colored, cashew-sized beans sailed out an open window in the farmhouse. Midoriya gasped and tried to grab them before they hit the ground…but it was too late. They scattered into the dirt, and must have been covered quickly, because he couldn’t see where they landed. He then whimpered and cowered as a very, VERY angry Shota Aizawa nudged him back, barring his way and glaring down at him. “Beans,” he sneered. “I’m disappointed in you, Izuku. I trusted you to make good choices. And of all things you come back with…you come back with five painted beans?” “I…b-but…but Mr. Aizawa, he said they were magic!” Aizawa’s glare didn’t shift. He just glowered, unblinkingly. Midoriya sighed and hung his head; it did sound very, very gullible, now that he thought about it. “…He…he also said…w-we could…have ten pounds…i-if it didn’t work…?” he added, hopefully, not daring to look up as he said so. “You BELIEVED him?” Midoriya remained silent. He sniffled once, and said nothing. Aizawa’s gaze softened slightly, and he pinched his brow, closing his eyes as he pointed off in another direction with one hand. “Bed,” he ordered. “Now. We’ll talk about this more in the morning. Don’t come out of your room till I tell you to. Understand?” Silence. “UNDERSTAND?!” “Y-Yes…yes, Mr. Aizawa…I’m…I-I’m sorry…” With a final sniffle, not daring to lift his head, Midoriya darted upstairs and out of the room. Aizawa sighed as he watched the young man go…then looked out the window. The sun was setting and the night was riding in fast. He shook his head despondently, grumbling to himself as he headed towards his own room.

------------------------------------------------ He needed sleep desperately…and probably a drink, as well…

Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably as he sat in his bed, which lay across from Midoriya’s in the small room they occupied each night. Midoriya was lying on his side, facing the other wall, turned away from Kaminari. He hadn’t moved a muscle for an hour or two. “Hey,” Kaminari whispered. “I, uh…I just wanted to say…it’s really not as bad as you think.” Midoriya gave no response. “I mean…you know all the dumb stuff I’ve done, yeah?” Kaminari chuckled, trying to shrug and giving an uneasy smile. “And…well…Magic Beans DO sound a lot cooler than, like…I dunno…moldy cheese, r-right?” Still no response. “…Midoriya? Are you asleep already?” No response. Kaminari sighed; he’d tried. Shaking his head sadly, he lay down in bed, and turned away to face his wall. “G’night,” he mumbled out, softly. In his own bed, Midoriya said nothing. His eyes spilled tears onto his pillow as he lay totally and completely still, curled up defensively in his bed, as if trying to coil into a ball. He hugged himself as he lay on his side, and sniffled softly before wiping his eyes on one arm. A flicker of light fell over his face, and he looked up to see the blue moon shining down. With a despairing sort of look, he lay down on his belly, face in his pillow…and after several minutes, cried himself quietly to sleep.

Neither he, nor Kaminari, nor Aizawa downstairs never noticed the way the ground not so far beyond the window shifted as the moonlight passed over it…they certainly never noticed the tiny green sprout that began to wind out of the ground as they slumbered…nor how it burst with leaves and pods as it continued to grow…

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

Izuku Midoriya opened his eyes to darkness. He gazed about, trying to figure out where he was…he opened his mouth to call for his master and his friend, but no sound came out in the dark, hollow void. A disturbing, hissing noise echoed out from somewhere behind him. He turned around fast…and turned pale as a sheet as he beheld a hideous, indescribable beast: as big as a house, its whole body a mass of writhing green tentacles, like some of the great sea monsters he’d seen in storybooks! He wished for a weapon…and suddenly, he found his fingers grasping the hilt of a silver sword. He looked to the sword, then the hideous creature…then glared, and took his best battle stance, holding the sword ready, challenging the beast. The tentacles swept towards him. He jumped out of the way, hacking and slashing with the blade, chopping them into pieces…but each time he struck, two more tentacles came flying at him.! He ducked and dodged as quick as he could, whirling his blade about his head as fast as he could manage… …Then, suddenly, a tentacle grabbed his arm, and with a wrenching twist, tore the sword away! He gasped, as a tentacle then grabbed his other arm, and another green tendril lashed about his waist! Izuku watched in horror, as a fourth tentacle transformed; the end of it malformed like clay, turning into a huge, green, fang-filled maw. The hideous monster licked its lips…and with a roar, the maw came careening towards him, ready to swallow him whole! “AAAAGH!” Midoriya jolted, pushing himself upright in bed…then, he settled, and panted, flopping down again with a groan as he realized he’d been having a nightmare… …One can thus imagine his reaction when he rolled onto his back in bed…to find what looked like a huge horde of green, curling tendrils pushing through the bedroom window. “YIPE!” With a shrill, almost comical yelp, Midoriya flailed and fell out of bed with a thud. He froze, as he heard Kaminari – still asleep in his own bed – groan and grumble something about “pretty girls” in his slumber. For several moments, Midoriya didn’t move…then, he scrubbed at his eyes, and took a better look at the” tendrils” poking through the window. He had quite forgotten, in his alarm, what had happened the day before. He found that the whole room had a vague, greenish hue cast over it, and the source was soon clear. His eyes widened, amazed, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of action. In a flash, he threw on his green tunic, red shoes, vest, and cap, and fastened his white rope belt before creeping downstairs quickly but quietly, not wishing to wake Aizawa or Kaminari. He stepped out of his house, and craned his neck upwards, barely able to believe his own eyes: there, in all of its splendor, rooted not more than a couple yards away from the house…was a GIGANTIC beanstalk, such as there has never been in the history of any world! It was thicker than any tree in the forest; it stretched high, up and up and up – he couldn’t see the end of it! At length, Midoriya realized that it was stretching far, far out of sight, piercing the blue sky itself! “Just as Yagi said,” he breathed, and began to quiver, a smile slowly forming on his face as his eyes danced with delight. He hadn’t been tricked! He hadn’t been fooled! The beans WERE magic! Almost without thinking, Midoriya darted forward, and grabbed hold of the two lowest branches of the spiralling beanstalk. He paused for a moment…took a deep breath…and then began to climb. He climbed till he could see through his window into Kaminari’s room…he climbed till he could jump down and hop onto the roof, if he wished…he climbed till he could look down and see the whole farm in all its vastness. He climbed, and climbed, and climbed; he had no thought in his head to keep climbing. His arms and legs seemed to be working without his will guiding him, hauling him up, up, up! He thought he would have run out of breath, one way or another, yet somehow he STILL climbed! He could see the tops of the trees, he could see birds – who looked VERY befuddled – flit past. He could see the crest of the Sun as it rose in the East, just beyond the pearly castle of Ua. Higher and higher Midoriya went, never once considering how in the world he was going to get down again safely. His heart was pounding with unparalleled excitement; even just climbing the beanstalk was an adventure in itself! Each time he looked down, he felt no fear, but an overwhelming sense of freedom and awe; seeing how small and yet how vast the world was, all at the same time, the more height he gained. Up, up, up… …Till, finally…as he reached…his fingers brushed what felt like fine, powdery sand. It was as if he were at the entrance of a well, a sea of white just beyond his reach. He reached further…and realized the beanstalk had come to an end. For the briefest of moments, panic entered his heart, as he now realized the harrowing knowledge he would have to climb back down, and that would be much harder than going up…but then, he remembered the sand, and – taking a risk – he heaved himself up daringly and held his breath… …As he popped through the whole in the sky…and found himself standing on solid ground. He had reached the point where the sky itself came to an end. A world above the clouds. Midoriya stared around in awe, stumbling forward, too thunderstruck to speak as his jaw dropped and he took in the sights around him. Ahead of him stretched a long, wide road of blue, powdery earth. ENORMOUS trees – taller than any he had ever seen – stood before him: their trunks were silver, and their leaves were a pale, sugary white. The sky itself was a pale, unusual violet hue, with streaks of orange passing through it – the colors of sunset, but without the steady shift. That was just the color, all the time, he wagered. The air was uncannily still; a few times on the climb up, he’d had to pause to hold onto his cap, to keep his hat from being blown miles out of his grasp. Now, though…there was no wind at all. “Whoa,” he murmured to himself, unable to say anything else as he began to walk down the road, staring and staring at the peculiar new plane he had discovered. His heartbeat only continued to quicken; this was the most spectacular thing he’d ever experienced. GRRRLLLB… “Ah-ah!” Izuku winced sharply, scrunching his eyes shut as he paused in his walk, and clutched his stomach…then sighed as he rubbed it gently. “Right…didn’t eat breakfast this morning…or supper last night, for that matter,” he muttered, a little sourly. His stomach whined again, and he bit his lip; it actually felt quite painful, the hunger pangs scraping against his gut lining. He looked around, his mind leaving the sense of wild adventure in favor of the more practical desire for food. Another world or not, he figured there had to be SOMETHING to eat around here! Sure enough, his green eyes soon spotted something: a white bush, covered in dark purple berries, not unlike grapes. Curious, Midoriya approached the bush; the bush alone was TREMENDOUS, about the size of the toolshed back on the farm. Carefully. He reached out and plucked one of the grape-like fruits off the branches; they were the size of footballs. Midoriya sniffed at the berry; it smelled sweet, and he smiled before taking a bite…only to gag and sputter, spitting out chunks of the stuff as he dropped the berry and rapidly scrubbed at his tongue. “Ugh!” he choked. “It…it smells nice, but…it TASTES like frog skins! O-Or rotten fish!” His stomach whined, pleading for something. He sighed again, and rubbed it, mouth starting to water with hunger as he lurched onward, desperately looking around for something to eat as he left the foul-tasting berry bush behind. Whatever THOSE berries were, he could survive without them…they were probably toxic, anyway, given that flavor! On Midoriya traveled, and louder his stomach growled. Everything around him was larger than he was used to; he’d ducked when a huge shadow, which he thought was an eagle, flew past his head…and nearly thought he’d faint when he realized it was a black-and-blue-colored butterfly, drinking from a pink flower the size of a small tree. He shook his head and continued forward, hoping he might find some breakfast soon… …And then…he froze. What looked like a gray wooden bridge was stretched across a black river, which sparkled like a starry night sky. And on the other side of the bridge was a giant house; it was not as poor as the old farmhouse, nor as splendid as a nobleman’s manor…somewhere in the middle, Midoriya guessed. Despite this middling state of obvious expense, the place was bigger than any house he’d seen…except maybe one… “It’s as big as a Castle,” he breathed…and with a light shake of his head, he hustled forward towards the building, almost desperately. A place that big was bound to be home to some kind of adventure…and if he was lucky, he thought, adjusting his white belt, maybe it was home to some food, as well. Midoriya dashed across the bridge, till he came to the door of the big house. There was no hope of reaching the doorknob, and some sixth sense told Midoriya that knocking would not only be likely fruitless, but potentially dangerous: whoever lived here was clearly no ordinary person. His mind started to race, wondering what COULD live in this house above the sky: a demon? A dragon? A clown? Hey, clowns were creepy. Whatever the case, Izuku’s hunger had quite a grip on him, as did his curiosity; he wasn’t turning back now. He soon noticed there was a gap under the door – he guessed big enough for a mouse to wriggle under. It was telling of how small he was compared to everything else that Izuku was able to wiggle through this gap, and soon found himself standing inside the enormous house. The interior of the giant building matched the exterior: it was neither especially poor-looking, nor particularly grand. The overall style reminded Izuku of a hunting lodge: rugs that appeared to be made from animal skins covered the wooden floor, and weapons the size of boats were displayed. What looked like a cow’s skull was mounted in one spot…but the skull, as well as the skins, were far more monstrous in their dimensions than any animals of the same kind Midoriya had ever encountered. His attention was drawn away from his surroundings when a sumptuous smell caught his nose; his poor, empty belly growled, and he had to wipe some drool away from the corner of his mouth before creeping carefully in the direction of the smell. He truly did feel like a mouse right now; he had the distinct sensation of invading some larger, more physically superior creature’s territory. He had to be careful: he had no idea if the one(s) who lived here might be home. If he got caught, this adventure could be over FAR quicker than he liked. Thankfully, he didn’t get caught, as he scampered across the floor, and found his way to a warm, welcomingly-lit kitchen. He looked up, and his eyes lit up with joy; he almost squealed with glee! Eager as could be, he scurried up one of the table legs – he’d just climbed a beanstalk that reached to the sky, THIS was nothing – and hauled himself up onto the tabletop. A tremendous feast lay before him: a huge hambone, a roasted chicken, apple dumplings, a block of cheddar cheese, a half-rack of beef ribs, and a lamb stew with carrots and potatoes all sat upon the table. Not only were these six separate courses quite a substantial amount of food in general, but because everything around Izuku was at least twenty times bigger than normal, any ONE of these dishes would have been enough to feed him and his fellow farmers for a whole week. Midoriya grinned and clapped excitedly, as his mind immediately started turning: perhaps this was how he could become a hero! Some of this could bring food to the whole village, or at least be sold at market for more than enough money to help out around the farm! The question was how to carry it all back… GRRROOOUUURRRRG… He hissed and clutched his belly with both hands…and laughed weakly. “Right,” he murmured. “I, uh…I should probably NOT try thinking on an empty stomach, huh?” His tummy answered with a grumpy-sounding grumble. Midoriya patted it gently, and looked around the table…then – as if he couldn’t feel more rodent-like already – he made a beeline for the cheese. He knelt before the giant block, and licked his lips before sinking his hands into it, pulling away fistfuls of cheddar, peeling it away almost like clay. He inhaled the scent, relishing his well-earned feast, and then began to shovel the cheese into his mouth rapidly, gobbling it with almost animalistic abandon. He sighed after several mouthfuls, eyes fluttering closed as he chewed and then swallowed heavily. “GRULP!  Ahhhh…this is the best cheese I’ve ever had,” he crooned, and grinned wider than ever, stomach still roaring for more as he reached for another fistful… THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP…! Midoriya froze. His ears pricked up as he heard a rhythmic, steady pounding; like some huge hammer slamming down again and again into the earth. He quickly recognized the sound to be footsteps. Very, VERY big footsteps. The sound grew louder, as whatever made the footstesps drew nearer. Midoriya turned fast and gasped as he saw a huge shadow come creeping across the wall, growing larger by the second! Thinking fast, he stuffed the last fistful of cheddar into his mouth…then, cheeks still bulging with the food, he hustled over to where he saw a salt and pepper shaker set, and ducked behind them quickly. No longer in the open, Midoriya peeked out from behind his hiding spot. His green eyes widened more than ever, terror striking his heart like a lightning bolt, as he saw the owner of the footsteps – the owner of the house – come swaggering into view. “A Giant!” The Giant stood at about fifty feet high, and the more Midoriya looked at the ogre, the more frightened he became. The titan was a handsome but imposing young man – roughly the same age as Izuku himself – with a head of spiky red hair that almost resembled flames. His eyes, too, were a shade of almost glowing scarlet, and as he yawned and stretched, Midoriya whimpered at the sight of a mouth full of razor-sharp, craggy-looking fangs. The young Giant wore a black vest lined with fluffy-looking red fur, and a pair of black leather trousers. Thick black boots were on his feet, and a long, flowing red sash was lashed about his middle The behemoth was bare-armed and bare-bodied, wearing no shirt beneath the vest; his abdomen was toned and athletic, rippling with powerful muscles, and his limbs were much the same. Between the colors, the fangs, and the overall size and demeanor of the Giant, Midoriya was trembling: he’d never met a giant, but he’d heard stories of them, and they were never very good. Giants were said to walk like men, but had appetites like devils; they would eat men, women, and children for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, often swallowing them whole. They would raid villages, devouring everyone and almost everything in sight, often never leaving till their bellies were swollen and heaving with all they had consumed. Then – despite their gargantuan masses – they would simply and suddenly disappear, with no evident explanation. To slay a giant was a feat few knights had succeeded in, and to meet a giant, for most people, was surely a death sentence. No one had ever figured out where they actually came from. It seemed Midoriya just had. Or, at least, he’d found where ONE of them came from. The scarlet-haired giant thankfully never noticed Midoriya; he smiled as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, looking over the food on the table. Izuku ducked back behind the shaker to avoid being seen. “Well…now that that’s taken care of,” the Giant mumbled, seemingly talking to its own food, “I’ve just gotta get a drink, and we’ll be ready! Don’t worry, breakfast: I’ll introduce you to my belly soon enough!” The Giant cackled and patted his muscular, trim belly in emphasis, then began to hum a jaunty tune as he strode over to another part of the kitchen. Midoriya gaped as he looked around the table for a moment. Breakfast…ALL of this…was breakfast for ONE giant?! No wonder their appetites were legendary. At least nothing here was alive…except for Midoriya himself, he realized, with a shudder. A sound of running fluid caught the youth’s attention, and he peeked out from behind the shaker. The Giant had stomped over to large barrel or keg, with a faucet stuck into it. From the spigot poured a stream of what looked and smelled like cherry cider. (Absently, Midoriya wondered how many cherries on HIS world it would take to fill a barrel of cider that big.) The Giant was smiling a happy, cheery smile as he watched the cider fill the thick clay mug he was holding… …Then, as he turned the dial to stop the flow, his mug filled…he froze. Midoriya saw the Giant frown in confusion…then, the red-eyed monster lifted his head up and began to sniff the air. His nostrils flared, becoming huge black holes as his ears pricked up, clearly alert. Midoriya internally cursed, biting his lip and ducking back behind the salt shaker as he heard the Giant approach the table again. He heard the dull “clunk” of the huge mug being put down… “Hmmmm…something smells good around here,” the Giant mumbled. “And it’s not the food…” Midoriya fought the urge to whimper, hugging himself and curling in on himself. His heart pounded with terror as he heard the ogre begin to search room; he could hear him open the larder and the cupboards…then heard the rattling of dishes as he searched the table itself, sniffing at the air all the while. “Please don’t find me,” he whispered to himself in a breathless prayer. “Oh, please don’t find me…please, please don’t find me…” The hopes were vain ones, and he knew it; the Giant could smell him, and once it found him, he had no doubt he’d a VERY intimate experience with those razor sharp teeth. Mind racing, Midoriya looked towards the edge of the table; perhaps he could make a break for it, scramble down the table leg and find a better place to hide, then head back home via the beanstalk. But then he’d be leaving empty-handed…empty-handed was better than dead, though… Just as he was measuring his options, his blood ran cold as he felt the shakers he’d been hiding behind get lifted away…and an ominous, thorny-looking shadow fell over him. He gulped nervously…and, very slowly, looked upwards towards the source of the shadow. The blood red eyes of the Giant fell upon him. The ogre tilted its head…and then grinned, showing off all of those huge, jagged teeth. “Oh! Hi, little guy!” the Giant boomed. “What are you doing here?” NOPE, was all Midoriya could think, as he leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the edge of table. “Hey, now, don’t leave in such a rush!” Midoriya squealed as a huge hand swooped down and grabbed hold of him. He froze, not daring to squirm, as for a few moments, he was wrapped up in huge fingers that felt like pythons coiled around him, pressed against a palm that was both soft and somewhat leathery in texture. He could feel gravity change around him, sensed himself being lifted higher… …Then jolted as a second hand joined the fray, cupping him gently as the fingers parted slightly, revealing a red eye about as large as he was tall. “Peek-a-boo!” sang out a voice, followed by a snigger. The fingers then parted fully, and Midoriya found himself sitting the middle of the Giant’s hands, the huge titan smiling down at him widely. “Hey there!” the Giant sang out gaily. “I’m Kirishima! Eijiro Kirishima! What’s your name, little fella?”

To Be Continued…

Like a Child

Prompt: Poe’s crush on you makes him feel like a teenager all over again, but it might go too far when you get married for a mission

Warnings - A/n: hi back to your regular fluff program. THIS IS THE FLUFFIEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN BE WARNED

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

“Our next mission will take place on Naboo,” Leia began as all the Squadrons sat in the meeting room. Leia was going over the mission, then who’s be going on them. 

Though, it seemed a certain commander couldn’t focus. Y/n L/n, that’s who Poe was focused on; you. The way you nodded lightly to show your focus, how you’d bite your bottom lip when concentrating, how you’d cock your head to the side when confused. You were just so adorable, so pretty, Poe didn’t know how to register this. Sure, he found other female pilots hot, but he’d never felt like this. You were different, his mind didn’t wander to a darker (yet sexier) place, he just wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss your forehead. He wanted to keep you safe from the unsafe world outside of the base.

“The people on this mission will be Snap, Jessika, Poe, and Y/n.” Leia finished. “Does that make sense, everyone?”

Shaking his head, Poe looked to Snap who was next to him. “What did she say?”

“When?” Snap asked as he observed Poe’s confused look.

Poe sucked a breath in through his teeth. “The whole thing?”

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

“So you’re telling me you spent the whole debreifing looking at Y/n? And you didn’t hear a single word Leia said?” Snap asked, his voice slightly amused. 

“Don’t say that so loud, Snap!” Poe scolded slightly as he brought Snap closer to him. “And yes, that’s what I said.” Snap laughed as Poe put his face in his hands. “I don’t get it! Why am I feeling like this?”

Snap slowly stopped laughing as he hit Poe’s back lightly. “It’s called a crush, Dameron. Not ‘I’m gonna fuck her,’ but ‘I want to love her,’” Snap explained. “Must be weird for you, huh?”

“Slightly, but for her? I think I can get used to it.” Poe said, and right as he said that, you and Karé walked by, laughing and talking. 

Snap sighed. “Get your head back in the cockpit for once, Poe. Now come on, let’s head out.”

Poe grabbed his helmet and hopped inside his X-Wing. “Alright guys, this is an easy mission. Let’s try to make this a quick in and out.” Poe said as soon as his comms system was up and running.

“Got it, Commander.”

“Understood.”

“Yes, sir!”

As the four X-Wings took off, Poe knew he was in for a long trip. With you, he’d probably screw something up that’d ruin everything.

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

“Alright, Snap and I will go that way, you two go that way.” Karé said as everyone had changed into more Nabooian clothes. They were in a small market, ready to find a spy for information.

Snap and Karé walked away as you turned to Poe. “You ready?” you asked in a sweet, cheery voice.

Poe couldn’t get enough of it, he loved hearing you speak. “You know it.” he replied as the two took off into the market.

Looking around, you were amazed at all the foods and colors. As you walked, you gasped when you saw your favorite fruit in a small stand. You hadn’t had it since you were a little girl on your home planet. You walked up to the stall and grabbed two of the fruits. You handed the woman four credits as you walked back to Poe. “Wanna take a quick break?” you asked, holding the fruit in the air.

The two of you sat on some rocks by the market as you handed him a fruit. “What’s this?” Poe asked.

“It’s a Hatti Parlo fruit, they’re incredible!” you said as you took a bite out of the fruit. Poe looked at you, unsure about it. “Oh, come on! They’re really good, I promise.” you urged.

Slowly, Poe took a bite of the sweet fruit as his eyes widned. “Gods..” he muttered as he took another bite. You giggled at his reaction and Poe could feel his heart melting.

As the two of you ate and talked, your eye soon caught something. “Poe- that’s him. That’s the guy.” you said quietly.

Together, the both of you stood up and approched him. You kneeled down and grabbed a small piece of paper from your boot, acting like he dropped it. “Sir, you dropped this.” you said as you handed him the paper. He opened it and nodded. 

“Come with me.” he muttered lowly under his breath as he began walking. Poe and you followed him into a small cave. “Leia sent me a transmission. I have all you need to know here.” the man said as he passed Poe a large scroll. Poe put it in his satchel.

“Thank you, sir. This will really help the Resistance. What can we do to repay you?” Poe asked.

The man sighed. “Just win the war, that’s all you can do. Now go, you must be leaving here before someone finds you.”

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

“Where the hell are Karé and Snap?” Poe asked as you both stood by your X-Wings. “They should’ve been back here by now. It’s almost dark.” Poe remarked as he looked to the sky. 

“I’ve always wanted to see a Naboo night sky. I’ve heard it’s the most beautiful thing in the entire galaxy.” you said as you looked to the stars. “It seems like those rumors were true.”

Poe jumped when his comms system went off. “Poe-- we have a problem.” Snap’s crackled voice came through. “We may or may not have accidentally gotten ourselves into the palace and we may or may not be stuck here.”

“What?” you asked as he stood by Poe. “How in the world did that--”

“I don’t know,” Karé’s voice came through. “But we need help, fast.”

Poe nodded. “How do we get to you? There’s no way in the palace.”

“Not unless your getting married.” Karé mentioned.

You looked to Poe who looked down to you. “Wanna get married, Flyboy?” you asked teasingly. Only did you then realize that he was nervous as he gulped, but he tried to hide it.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’d love to marry a beautiful pilot such as yourself.” he replied.

“Gods, stop flirting and come save us!” Snap cried as the comms went down. You blushed heavily as you looked down. You felt Poe’s eyes on you, just as you had at the base earlier.

Poe looked down to you, he was lightly blusing, but it was nothing too much. “We’d, uh, better go make reservations. Let’s go.” he said smoothly as you two walked to the palace.

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

“I cannot believe I’m doing this.” you muttered as you looked down to your lacey, borrowed wedding dress. A maid put a small veil on your head, it was a small tiara. As you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but get teary-eyed. You looked beautiful. You’d never realized how bad you wanted to walk down the isle until that moment.

“Darling, don’t cry!” another maid spoke as she handed you a tissue. “You must be very much in love.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m lucky.” you lied, but it felt too real. The lines of a plan, a mission, and a real life event were crossing and getting blurry. Maybe in some weird way, you did want to marry Poe for real. But certainly not now, not before you’d ever even kissed him.

As you looked away from the mirror, you heard the faint sound of the wedding march. You nodded to a maid who opened the doors and lead you to another set. As they opened, you saw Poe and a preist standing there. Poe was in a nice suit, he’d even gotten that muck and grease off of him. He looked good, but you liked him the other way a little more.

Walking down the isle was an experience. You were somehow nervous, yet happy? But it was fake, you wouldn’t actually get married.

Stopping in front of Poe, he slowly lifted the veil from over your face and put it behind you. “You look beautiful.” he muttered as you looked down and smiled. You thought his acting was good, but you wondered if it were real.

The preist spoke, but you didn’t hear him. You just looked at Poe, his hands in yours. It was surreal, you knew for sure that you liked Poe, maybe even wanted this to be real. But as you looked down, you saw a small blaster in his belt. You smirked and pressed your lips in a line.

“Poe, you may recite your vows.” the preist said as Poe’s eyes got wide.

“Y/n, you once told me the Naboo skies were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You were wrong; you’re the most beautiful thing. Nothing can compare to you. I love you.” Poe said simply.

You knew it was your turn, so you blinked back some small tears. “Poe, when we first met, I thought you were some flirty, handsome flyboy. You are, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than that. I see things in you that I didn’t see before. I love you too.” you spoke honestly.

“The rings?”

Poe slowly took a small silver ring off of his necklace. You knew the story, Leia had once told you when you asked her about it. This felt wrong, it was his mother’s after all. You felt wrong for putting it on your finger, but you didn’t. Poe did it for you without any sign of hesitation. Grabbing your small, silver band, you slid it on Poe’s finger.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Groom, you may kiss the bride.”

Now it was your turn to not hesitate. You almost threw your lips onto Poe’s with such strong passion. He kissed back with even more, you knew right then and there that he liked you too.

As you pulled away, you two slowly went back down the isle. Once the doors shut, you looked to Poe. “Did we actually just--”

“I think we did.” Poe said. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t..” he trailed off as he looked down.

You put your hand on his cheek, cupping it. He leaned into your touch as he looked to you. “I wasn’t lying. I love you.” you said softly.

“You do?” Poe asked, eyes beginning to gleam with happiness. You nodded as he kissed you again, pulling your waist closer to his. He pulled away laughing. “Do you wanna just say we got together and maybe also... promised to get married?” he said.

Laughing with him, you nodded. “I’d love that, now, let’s go get our friends.”

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

BONUS

“So you two are married?!” Jessika yelled as the mess hall went silent. “You like, actually are married?!”

Poe put his hands up. “To be fair, we saved Karé and Snap. But we like to call it our pre-marrige before we actually get married.” Poe explained.

Everyone in the Resistance freaked out when they saw you both with wedding rings. Even Leia panicked, she knew you two would get together, but not that quick. You both brought everyone to the mess hall so you could explain what happened.

“Why are you two still wearing rings?” Karé asked. 

You shrugged. “Promise rings, I guess.”

“So you’re going to get married again?” Lu’lo asked. You and Poe nodded.

Leia threw her hands up above her head. “I call being a maid of honor! After all, I did put them on the mission together.” Everyone laughed as you smiled at Poe, your technical husband, but love of your life.

Waxing Gibbous  Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

    *Note: I dedicate this installment to the beautiful @ifimayhaveaword, who really made my day today with her lovely messages of support. People like you truly mean the world to me. I appreciate you more than you know.

      * Warnings:  Some minor angst/ miscommunication/ SMUT (m/f oral, fingering, hand job, spicy kisses) Can’t stop the smut train baybeeee choo choo motherfuckers       * Summary: You process the events of the night before, and wonder about your place with Ezra and on the Green       * Word Count: 3879 *Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR*

PART FIVE

    You Awoke the next morning feeling as if it were some erotic fever dream. You stretched your arm out across the emptiness of the cot pushed beside yours. It was only when you moved to roll onto your back that the deep pang of soreness between your legs reminded you that, yes, what you’d wanted for months had actually happened, and you did indeed feel ruined.     Ezra appeared to have left the tent in the early morning haze. You gazed upward at the ceiling of the tent, at the support beams that vaulted the cloth walls. Things were going to be different, that you knew. It did not make you any less apprehensive.     He had told you he loved you. Or, more accurately, that he had love for you.

    You could not forget the tenderness he’d shown you after you were attacked, but you were well aware that things said in the heat of passion were often a product of an intense moment and were not necessarily reflective of the truth. You chided yourself for ruminating; he’d been a nanosecond from coming inside of a warm body for the first time in undoubtedly several months. From your admittedly limited sexual experiences, proclamations of love and devotion and promises of ardent follow-through were often expressed in the heat of the moment, never to be mentioned again. You usually never saw them again.

    This was different, of course, as you literally could not leave. You were both stranded, though you still kept up the pretense of harvesting in the event an opportunity to escape should present itself. The chance of this happening had begun to seem less and less likely- the heyday of the aurelac rush had long since come and gone, and the remaining groups of adventurers to the Green operated more or less on whispered rumors and folklore.     The zipper of the tent pulled upward, and Ezra emerged. The flaps were quickly refastened, and he moved to whip his helmet off as you shyly pulled your worn blanket up to your neck. You had been wanton and vocal the night before, but in the light of the morning you felt fragile, unsure. Ezra looked to you, seemingly amused by your sudden modesty. The corner of his mouth tilted up, his warm brown eyes twinkled. The blond patch of hair, a rogue among it’s dark compatriots, stuck out wildly in response to the chaotic divestment of his helmet. He wasn’t even close to you and your heart started pounding.     “Ah, good morning to you, Dove. I was hoping you would continue your slumber a bit longer. I have spent some time in the early light surveying the Green for signs of life and transport, not necessarily in that order, of course.”     In the months since you’d first met him in the clearing on that fateful day, his arm had fully recovered thanks to your ministrations- all that remained was a cratered, puckering pink scar on the skin of his bicep. He wore a threadbare grey tee under his suit and this drew your eye to the wound. If something were to happen to you, if this did not pan out and you either died or escaped, were separated, would he remember you when he saw his scar? Would it be with fondness, or would it only remind him of how traumatic this all was?      Why am I thinking like this?     It was the fact that he had admitted, out loud, that he was looking for a way out, a way off of the Green. You knew that you would both die if you could not find a way to go, it was only logical. So why were you nursing this pang of melancholy that had emerged when you’d awoken to find his cot empty?     You came back to yourself, and noted the concern etched on Ezra’s face as he contemplated you.     “Have I said or done something to upset you, Dove? That has rendered you mute?”     He moved across the floor of the tent with a lithe grace and perched on the edge of your cot, placing a hand on your knee.     “Are you feeling alright?”     You sighed, smiling softly when you felt his touch on you, warm and heavy. “Better than alright, Ez. I….can’t….I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around what happened last night.”     He creased his brow in contemplation and turned to face you fully.  “I must admit, I myself did not envision such intimacy occurring between us in the manner it did. I…. fear I may have been a fair bit rougher than I meant to be at the outset. I need you to be truthful if I hurt you in any way.”     You bit your lip, and your neck and face felt hot. Flashes of him caging you, filling you, his words, hot breath and hands, the way the cot had creaked like it was pleading for its life…     “I….really loved everything about last night. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone...like that. So honestly, I’m sore. But in a...good way?”     He surged forward, framing your face with his hands. His voice left his plush lips in a hoarse whisper. His eyes held yours, hypnotic and deep.     “Will you feel me with every step you take today? I’m going to watch you. I have never felt such intensity with anyone the way I felt it when we took our pleasure last night. I don’t want it to stop.”     You were flushed, your ears buzzed. Your mind filled with static. How could he practically dismantle you in this way with only words? You realized your mouth was hanging open. You snapped it shut and swallowed audibly.     Ezra’s clever tongue darted to wet his lips before squeezing your knee and standing.     “Get dressed, Dove. We’ve a day ahead of us.”

    It was another hot day in the Green, and you both resumed your digging, harvesting and cataloguing as if it were any other afternoon. For all intents and purposes, it was. Ezra waxed poetic about the juxtaposition of the beauty surrounding you beside the deadliness of the air, how the regular exchange of oxygen, hydrogen and carbon dioxide were perverted carbon copies of the vegetation you were both used to which processed and sustained an atmosphere more life-sustaining.      You hummed at the appropriate moments, but your mind was on your conversation in the tent. What he had said to you seemed indicative of the fact that he intended to continue a physical relationship. It made you feel equal parts giddy and insecure. You frowned in thought.     Snap the fuck out of it. You’re no delicate, blushing maiden. You know yourself. You’re seriously thinking like some incapable, dependent damsel the second you get some good dick??     Except you moved a certain way while crouching down and you winced, gasping softly. Ezra stopped mid-sentence and turned his gaze toward you, his eyes dark, his tongue once again flicking out to moisten his lips.     “Are you injured, little Dove?” he asked, smiling softly.     “Uh, no, not exactly. You know, what I told you before...I’m fine, really.”     He sauntered over to you and held out his hand. You grasped it, and he pulled you to your feet so that your helmets were touching.     “As cocky as I may have seemed at the outset in regards to the way I left my mark on you, do not think it is no little concern to me to see your movements impaired. My words were not meant to denote any sadistic pleasure taken in regards to your objective discomfort.”     His hands were stroking gently up and down your arms as he spoke.     You shrugged under his hands, a flash of annoyance crossing your features.     “I’m really fine, Ez. I’m not some wilting flower that you’ve irreparably damaged with your Godlike virility. I promise you, my delicate, blushing womanhood will recover.”     Ezra cocked an eyebrow in surprise. His hands stilled as he paused a beat before responding.     “Now that is something I would not anticipate. The thought that for one moment I consider you anything less than an equal, in fact a superior to myself in several ways, not the least of which include cunning and resilience. It saddens me that you think that of me.”     All at once you felt like a jerk. Damn this emotional lability, damn this stubborn pride. Ezra was genuinely concerned that you were in pain, and you were jumping at the opportunity to argue semantics and gender roles. On a toxic planet you were both stranded on, no less.     You reached for his gloved hand, squeezing firmly. His hand squeezed back, equally firm.     “I don’t know why I said that, Ezra. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I sound like an asshole, I’m sorry.”     You’ve gotten into me.

    You were back in the tent after determining that the day's work had finished. It was quiet, Ezra ruminated. The tension had surely rebuilt itself over the course of the day, there was only so much harvesting, so much concentration on work that could be accomplished, before it came to this. The both of you, stripped to your thermals. You lay as you had countless times before, facing one another on your cots. Ezra swept his thumb lazily back and forth across your knuckles. You felt like you could drown in the depths of him.      “I’m sorry again about what I said to you today. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it.”     “Though you have nothing to apologize for, Dove, I will readily accept if it will still the turbulence within you. I meant what I said, and I have you to thank for every bit of happiness I doubted I’d ever feel in this Kevva-forsaken place. My arm, my livelihood. My life. If not for you I’d have faded forgotten like so many other poor, foolish dupes. My very survival is due to your strength and intellect.”     You felt full to bursting at his words, overwhelmed by his sincerity. You couldn’t respond, so you propelled yourself forward and pressed your lips to his desperately. He stilled only momentarily, startled at your boldness, before he responded hungrily. Lips slid, teeth clashed. His tongue begged entry into your mouth, which you granted with a whimper. He tasted somehow sweet, wild. His breaths gasped into your mouth, you pushed your own back into him. Hands tangled in hair. You had yet to see him unclothed, you reached out and grasped his shirt in your needy fist. Ezra immediately took the hint and stripped it. You removed your own and his hands were at once on your breasts, large warm hands that enveloped each in turn, greedy and restless. He couldn’t touch enough of you at once.     His hands moved to your waist, tearing at your pants. You helped him pull them off and fling them to the ground. You felt like you were radiating heat, you were a thermal detonator. Ezra pinched your nipple, applying slight pressure into the bud with his thumb nail. Your nerves sparked and sang, your ass arching off of your cot like you’d been hit by an electrical current.     You gasped, your trembling hands moving to divest him of his pants.     His hand shot down to still yours. You both paused, the only sound within the confines of your quarters were the loud gasps that echoed between you.     “Is….is something wrong?”     Ezra fought to still his breathing. “Sweet girl, I have not forgotten my rough congress with you the night before. I do not want to risk exacerbating your discomfort. You should recover, first, from our mutual enthusiasm.”     You groaned in frustration. “I’ll be fine. Ezra, I promise you won’t break me.”     You palmed him through his trousers, Kevva he was so hard. So hot. You swore you were salivating. Ezra stilled, breath held in an attempt to maintain his composure.     “Please grant me this, at least for my own peace of mind. Just for tonight. Allow me, if I may, to indulge in an alternate form of intimacy, one which I’ve dreamed of sharing with you since your first trick with the Sater.” The last sentence was gritted out between clenched teeth.     Your eyes wide, you bit your lip and barely finished a frenzied nod before Ezra was pinning your hands above your head and scraping his teeth against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. It was somehow different, more measured, if no less intense. You let a shiver run through your body as Ezra moved down to first one breast, then the other. He opened his mouth wide and covered the entirety of your nipple and sucked. You gasped, already overwhelmed. You felt as if you could lose your mind as he possessed you. Teeth scraped and teased, and he made sure the peak of your breast was properly slicked before repeating the motions on your other breast. You keened out into the cycled air of the tent as the wet surface of your skin cooled, warring with the sinful furnace of Ezra’s mouth on your other breast.     He disengaged, intentions clear as he continued to kiss, lick, and nip down the length of your body. You were struck mute and trembling. You didn’t realize he had let go of your hands, and you were so mesmerized that you kept them stationary above your head. Ezra reached your drenched core and settled between your legs, pressing feather-light kisses to your inner thighs as you whimpered. He was going to kill you. He paused, and as you realized he was beginning to part your inner folds you started and reflexively started to close your legs. Ezra huffed, placing a searing palm against the inside of your knee in protest.     “Don’t be shy, sweet girl. There is no shame here with me. I consider it a compliment of the highest order that you are blooming for me like this.” He moved to lay his head against the side of your thigh. He felt inches away from you. You could feel every warm exhale against your dripping sex, hypersensitive, attuned to every word and movement.     “Look at you,” he crooned reverently. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen arousal so profound. Glistening like a jewel. Every blushing fold spread open and ready. The temple of this divine cunt fluttering and weeping for me.”     You choked out a broken groan at his words and tilted your hips toward him desperately. Impossibly, you felt him closer, his breaths tiny explosions on your swollen core. He groaned back in response and dragged his fingers languidly through your slick.     “.....smell so good…”     Before you could register his words he darted forward and licked from your clenching hole up to your clit, his tongue wide and flat. Ezra ran his tongue back down to your base before repeating the motion twice more.     It was a feeling so intense, sensation so overwhelming to you, that you could not speak, only throw your head back with eyes and mouth wide in a silent scream. Your hands hammered down to your sides and you tore at the sheets beneath you.     “....taste so fucking good.”     You gasped his name like a prayer. You were incapable of speech, your mind blank. Over the din of white noise between your ears, you heard Ezra speaking your name reverently.     You forced your head up to meet his gaze. Your arousal was a wet sheen across his face, his eyes blown wide, hair wild. So beautiful.     “You still with me, Dove?” You could only give him another desperate nod.      You then watched, eyes wide and shocked, as Ezra opened his wicked mouth and let a strand of spittle drip down from his lips and roll down to coat your engorged clit.     “Ezra...oh my fucking God,” You moaned. He could kill you in this moment, snuff your life like a wasted candle and you would thank him.     When he next attached his mouth to you and began to tongue your fluttering cunt, you could not stop the noises that left your gasping mouth. You could not keep track of the groans, whimpers, screams, pleas that left you like an incantation. If you’d been able to form a coherent thought, you may have even supposed (correctly) that Ezra would be cataloguing every single one.     When he moved his mouth back to your aching clit, he replaced his tongue with two thick fingers and entered you easily. He began a slow, deep pace while his tongue danced across and upon your bud. Your legs began to shake of their own accord, muscles jumping and fluttering. Ezra placed a hand across your stomach to steady you, murmuring low praises.     “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. So good. Come for me sweetheart. Let go, release onto my tongue, spill your ecstasy into my mouth.”     He resumed the labor of his fingers within your walls and latched his mouth to your bud and began sucking.     The pressure in your belly, between your legs, through your limbs stretched tight and snapped, and you roared Ezra’s name into the void of the Green. You were shaking, you were flying apart, the world could be crumbling down around you, you did not care.     I’m dying, you thought. You could not think beyond the white-hot, searing pleasure that sparked through and lit up every nerve ending. Ezra worked you through your explosive release, easing you down with slow licks and kisses as he greedily consumed every drop of his victory. He finally relented and crawled back up your shaking body. He kissed you wantonly, gasping into your mouth. You tasted your own arousal and release on his lips and tongue- it was intoxicating. He kissed you as if he would die if he stopped, his hands cradling your face.     “Ezra,” you moaned, your breaths and heart rate finally beginning to slow. “Ezra, that was…..” You felt him smirk against your mouth. You gasped out a laugh and wound your arms around his shoulders.     “Proud of yourself, are you?” You swore on your soul that he giggled.     “While I must admit fault has never been found in my technique, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a response so….intense. You do wonders for my ego, Dovie.” He whispered, tucking his nose into your neck. You stroked his back, your limbs heavy and loose. You could have drifted away like this but for the hardness you felt against your hip.     “Hey, Ez?”     “Mmmfff.”     “What about you?”     To punctuate your point, your hand reached down to palm him through his trousers. Ezra’s demeanor immediately changed, lazy grin stilling as he gasped and groaned against you.     “I believe I told you I wanted you in my mouth last night, Ezra. I still do.”     “You don’t have to, sweet one. I wanted to take care of you tonight,” he gasped, even as he began to rock his hips into your open hand.     “I want to take care of you, too,” You whispered against his mouth. You were startled by the desire flooding into you once again- Ezra had fully wrung you out, you should be exhausted. Instead, the flames of your lust were stoked once again as you rolled him onto his back and began to undo his pants. Ezra stared down at you, his breathing hitched and baited. His hands were fisted on either side of him, he looked almost scared to move.     You revealed his swollen aching cock, red and weeping. He was so aroused the head of him was almost purple. You swore you could see his pronounced veins pulsating. Your felt your cunt clench, further shocking you. You realized your mouth was watering.     “I need this divine cock in my mouth, Ezra. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”     Ezra whined, hands clutching in desperation as yours were only a short time before.     You flashed him a salacious grin and opened your mouth to spew your own string of saliva to cascade down the head of his cock. Ezra gasped, eyes wide.     “Turnabout is fair play, Sir.”      Shudders racked his body as you lowered your head, placing delicate kisses at the base of him before working your way up. Ezra quickly became a panting, groaning mess, knocking his head into the pillow. The cords of his neck stood out in stark relief as his hips canted upward in search of more of your mouth, more of anything.     “Please, sweet girl,” he moaned, is voice thin and reedy, “Please. I need more….”     You glanced up at him as your hand slowly pumped his length, considering, before once again leaning forward. Without preamble you opened your mouth and took him down as far as you could. The cries that erupted from him at your action could have awakened any floater within a 15-mile radius. You wanted to hear it again, so you dislodged him from your mouth before repeating your action. You clasped hour hands around the sizable part of him that did not fit, lacing your fingers together. You pressed your palms against the slick shaft and worked him slowly and steadily while the obscene, wet noises coming from your mouth reverberated throughout your quarters.     Ezra was properly wrecked, sobbing and gasping, pleading for you to continue.     “You're going to kill me,” he whined, and it caused a fresh flood of arousal to run down the insides of your thighs. He was so, so close. You could feel his cock twitch and swell impossibly. You raised your eyes to meet his, mouth popping off of him, strands of spit stretching like cables between your parted lips and his glistening head. Catching your breath, you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth.     “Come in my mouth, Ezra.”     Ezra could only whimper in response, hands buried in your hair as you sank back onto him. You bobbed your head once, twice, three times, and then he was painting your mouth and tongue with his seed. You struggled to swallow it all, it seemed neverending. Ezra sobbed, shouting half-formed words and unintelligible praises into the air. His hips twitched and rolled up rhythmically as you struggled to keep him captured within the confines of your mouth.      You swallowed each spurt eagerly until Ezra tugged at your hair, hypersensitized, to pull you up his chest. His limbs trembled in aftershocks as his arms wrapped around you. His heart continued to hammer in his chest as you lay your head on him. You reached a hand up to cup his face. Ezra leaned into it, turning his head and placing a kiss to the palm of your hand.     “You are magical, Dove. Transcendent. I do not deserve you.”     You yawned and burrowed your head into the crook of his neck. You were suddenly exhausted.      You stayed entwined on your cots, breaths slowing and steadying as you both found your slumber. Inhaling as you exhaled, you dreamed of escape, daring to hope against hope that there was a way to leave and make your way to something better.      Something you both deserved.

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

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