#no reckoning til next week

[tmntxthings]

Leo x female!reader who is very muscly and just... scoops Leo up bridal-style. Bonus if Leo short-circuits with the most flabbergasted look on his face 😂 ~🌺👸

In Your Arms

requests: HIII CAN YOU DO A RISE! LEO X GN! READER THAT'S TALLER THAN HIM??? ( like leo's 5'5 and the reader is 5'9 ) from @suquiinoz

author’s notes: this was really short >\\\\< but cute nonetheless, hope you enjoy~~

warnings: fluff

—————————————————————————

It was a dance battle! Leo and you on one team versus April and Donnie on the other. Mikey and Raph were cheering everyone on in the arcade. They were at the dance machine and it was down to the wire. April and Donnie were a force to be reckoned with, they were the usual winners, the champions. Which irked Leo to his core because he wanted to be the champion. The champion of everything including dance battles. This time for sure the two of you would beat the ‘ultimate duo’ as April and Donnie liked to call themselves.

Everyone was sweating, Mikey and Raph hooting and hollering in the background. They had said they weren’t taking sides but Leo just knew Raph was on Donnie’s side. Thankfully his lil’ bro was a great cheerleader. If Raph was on Donnie’s side, Mikey was definitely on Leo’s. That was usually how things went down for the brothers on most occasions. There was the rare times where the disaster twins teamed up but again, it was few and far between.

You and Leo had been practicing for a week straight on this particular song. So in the end when the two of you came out victorious it was soooo satisfying. “Ahahaha!” Leo laughed and pointed at Donnie’s face, “we are the champions now brother of mine!”

Donnie rolled his eyes as he leaned his shell back against the bar. “Yeah, sure ‘til next time,” he panted out exhausted as April hopped down from the dance platform. “Good game you guys!” she smiled. You were jumping up and down with excitement. You couldn’t believe it, you and Leo finally beat them!! In your whirlwind of exhilaration you pulled Leo into your arms, easily sweeping him off of his feet. “We did it!!!” You exclaimed and hadn’t noticed the dark blush that took over Leo’s features as you continued to raise him higher. “I- uh- yeah!” Leo stuttered. It was times like this where he was reminded that you were in fact taller than the blue clad turtle.

He wouldn’t go as far to admit you were stonger than him because that was still to be determined but you were strong enough to lift him like he wasn’t a teenage mutant ninja turtle! You placed him down realizing everyone was smirking at the two of you. “Heh sorry I got so excited!” You said to Leo and he shrugged, “it’s cool,” he mumbled not wanting to admit how much he had enjoyed it. He was a sucker for hugs. “Awwwww Leo and Y/n sittin’ in a tree~~~” Mikey started to sing and it was your turn to blush as Leo immediately started chasing after his younger brother. “Shut it Mikey!!” And laughter, and a bit of screaming (coming from Mikey) could be heard throughout the lair that night.

This wasn’t the first time, Leo remembered the last time you had picked him up, it had been bridal style and he had been soooo embarrassed. Mostly because he enjoyed it immensely. It had been when Leo had stubbed his toe and he was rolling around on the floor dramatically in pain. You had scooped him up into your arms and asked if you should bring him to the kitchen for ice. “No- no!” Leo had come out of his dramatic flare, not wanting to be brought out of his room in your arms like this. He was thankful none of his brothers were there to tease him about it! ‘Cause he hadn’t just hopped out of your arms, he reveled in being held, like it was the greatest place to be, it made his brain all mushy with serotonin.

“Leo? You sure? You got a funny look on your face,” you said worried that his rolling around had somehow hurt more than just one toe but maybe even a head injury. You were totally oblivious to his blushing or his heart eyes. “I’m good I promise!” Leo said hastily, not wanting to leave his room or your arms.

#rise leo x reader #rise leonardo #rise leo #leonardo hamato #rise tmnt oneshot #rottmnt oneshot #tmnt fandom #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #turtle bros #leonardo #mikey #raph #donnatello #michelangelo #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise tmnt #tmnt fluff #leo x y/n

[beantothemax]

Canalbrine would have been terrible if not for two things, Temenos discovered. 

The rather witty banter between Agnea, Hikari, and Partitio (paired with their resolves to follow him to the ends of the earth to solve the case of His Holiness’ murder), and the sudden appearance of one beloved knight. 

“I can vouch for these travellers. Grant them mercy, my friend,” Crick said, striding to stand intimidatingly beside Agnea. If she looked delicate on her own, she looked downright fragile next to Crick, decked out in his gleaming armour and wicked sword. 

Yet she held herself with such confidence and sureity that it hardly made a difference. This was Agnea Bristarni, a superstar, travelling alongside the Inquisitor, Hikari Prince of Ku, and the continentally-famous company owner Partitio Yellowil. What an odd band of travellers they were. 

The guard hesitated, then nodded, striding off and leaving the group to their own resources. 

“Well, I daresay it is quite the surprise to see you here, little lamb. I had no idea this was where you’d been assigned,” Temenos said, crossing his arms and smiling. Crick’s gaze flitted from Partitio, to Hikari, to Agnea, and back to him. 

“Forgive my crudeness, Inquisitor, but I thought we agreed not to call me that anymore,” Crick replied, and Temenos bit back a laugh. 

“Hm. That must have slipped my mind. In any case, we are not here to exchange banter. We four are investigating the pontiff’s case. Care to lend us your aid, Godsblade?” 

“Four...? Oh! They are helping you!” Realisation dawned on his little lamb’s face, and Agnea smiled. 

“Well we couldn’t just let him go off on his own. He’s so frail he’d get torn apart by Mountain Apes within the week!” 

“Or succumb to a plague or another on the Sea,” Hikari added gravely. Temenos felt his smile waver, and he landed a sharp kick to Hikari’s shin with his heel. 

Crick visibly bit back a laugh, eyes widening with shock at the casuality with which Agnea and Hikari referred to him. 

“I have told you before, you two, that my physical condition is perfectly fine for the method of fighting I employ,” Temenos said through gritted teeth. 

Agnea gave him a look, and crossed her arms. “You bash so many monsters’ heads in, I’d expect at least a little muscle to build up.” 

“And we have done so much travelling that one would expect you to be better at fending off ailments,” Hikari said, visibly fighting back a smile. 

Temenos waved them off, and stretched. “Hm. I find myself to be suddenly quite tired. Perhaps it was all the walking?” He said, desperate for a change in subject. 

Partitio popped his neck and arms, no doubt cramped from all the dagger-work he’d been doing. “More than likely. We did an awful lot of travellin’, after all. D’ya reckon talkin’ to that feller could wait ‘til mornin’?” 

“Mm. Perhaps. Little lamb, do you know of the theologian Lucian?” Temenos asked, and Crick nodded, pointedly ignoring the nickname. 

“Yes. He lives by himself just on the edge of town. It is not a far walk by any means, but I do think you four ought to rest a touch before speaking to him.” 

Temenos laughed softly, an unbidden rush of affection and fondness flooding his chest. “Caring as always, my dear lamb. Well, let us be off. The inn awaits.” 

“I shall see you three in the morn. Sleep well,” Crick bade. 

“May you have pleasant dreams,” Agnea said, bowing her head. A common Leaflands saying, used for those close to oneself or family. Was Agnea, indirectly, calling Temenos family? He feared the question may haunt his sleep. In any case, Crick bowed his head as well, mirroring her perfectly. Was he acquainted with Leaflands customs? Yet another question to ponder at a later date. 

“Sleep tight, Sir Crick. We’ll all need to be nice ‘n rested for tomorrow,” Partitio said with a nod (since he lacked a hat to tip). Crick nodded back. 

“...Goodnight, Sir Crick,” Hikari said quietly, pointed and polite as ever. Try as he may to hide it, his royal upbringing was painfully obvious when it mattered most. Crick watched him, nodding. You as well, he seemed to say. 

“You three go on and find us a room. I must speak with Crick for a moment,” Temenos bade them, lingering by his Godsblade’s side until the others had disappeared into the inn. 

Then before Crick could ask any questions, he spun on his heel and did something he never would have before he met Partitio and Agnea (and by a small extent, Hikari). 

He brought Crick into an embrace, holding him as tightly as possible with the armour impeding him. 

Crick froze for a moment, before wrapping ever-gentle arms around Temenos’s thin waist. “I missed you, Temenos,” he whispered, head bowed. 

Temenos drew a breath, fearing he may begin to cry. “I missed you too, my Godsblade. For such a small sprout of friendship it certainly seems to have a brilliant bloom, does it not?” 

Crick was quiet for a moment before he huffed out a laugh. “Yes, I suppose it does. I only hope we may keep it alive long enough to see it grow and flourish.” 

Temenos pulled away just enough to see his lamb’s face, and quirked an eyebrow. “Goodness, is my little wayward lamb professing his love for me?” 

Crick laughed at that, a smile playing at his lips. “You are tired, Temenos. Go get some rest.” 

He pulled away from the hug and sank to one knee, pressing a kiss into Temenos’s hand. “I swear to you that I shall be here when you wake.” 

Temenos, though he took pride in his ability to keep a calm composure in any and all situations, was left dumbfounded as he watched Crick rise to his feet and walk away towards the Sacred Guard’s barracks. 

It seemed there was more to his little lamb than he gave credit for. 

^the lying liar

what the fuck!!!!!!! mean to hikari!!!!!!!!! we should throw him to the apes actually I like agnea’s plan

YAOI EXPLOSION💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

does he know? :3

#MAVVIE WITH YET ANOTHER BANGER #can’t believe they made gay people real #waugh mav these lil gang interactions are my very real lifeblood #asks #adventures-of-turnabout #inbox fic

[seafoamchild]

january is a rough month. it feels like it's been january for like 3 weeks but it's only the 9th. the grey skies and general lack of color and warmth really gets me down. i feel like i'm always tired no matter how much i sleep. i feel so lacking in energy and motivation. and i feel so ugly too. i started using retinol on my face and i'm going through the "purge" period where my skin is breaking out. i really hope it'll get better after this. cuz having acne again is not chill. i'm not as self conscious about it as i once was, but i really do feel a little ugly. and i'm still reckoning with the changes in my body. i've definitely gained weight and sometimes i feel okay about it and other times (like now) i just can't believe it and i get into these shame spirals. i'm going to the gym a lot and still eating relatively well but i just feel very unattractive and blah.

i'm doing dry january too and i'm not sure if it's the right choice but i'm going to try it. it's only january 9th and i feel like it's been SO LONG and i want to drink SO BAD. no powders either. i have been thinking about my substance abuse issues for a while now and i think taking a break is necessary. i need to reassess my relationship with alcohol. i think getting out of the service industry would help a lot. i just hate that getting fucked up seems so necessary to have fun in so many situations. this is so hard.

a good thing is that i'm having a lot of fun with T. the more i get to know him the more i like him. he's funny, smart, willing to try new things, emotionally intelligent, social, kind, caring, doesn't take himself too seriously, a good listener, and a really loyal friend. he has a good heart. i'm really happy with him. we're doing dry january together and we've had so much fun going on adventures and cooking and watching weird documentaries. we're going to chicago next weekend and i'm really excited. he treats me the way i deserve to be treated and i hope i'm doing the same for him.

it just scares me a little because i still want to move to another city, even if it's just for a little while. and i don't want a boyfriend to hold me back. and i feel like it's too soon to ask if he wants to come with me. there are so many uncertainties. i tend to get so invested in relationships so quickly. so i need to talk about this in therapy.

i'm also still having the same issues with insomnia that i had with luke. every time we slept in the same bed i could not fall asleep. like at all. it's insane. i took a lunesta the last time T stayed over and i don't think i slept. like my body just will not let me be unconscious and i don't know why. it's absolutely maddening. i can't understand why this is happening and i'm so frustrated with people telling me to have a bedtime routine or to try meditating or take fucking melatonin. i know they're just trying to help but it's clearly a much deeper issue and i need professional help. my psychiatrist hasn't done anything helpful except prescribe me lunesta. i made an appointment with a sleep specialist but it's not til the third week of february. it's so fucking exhausting and annoying to want to just spend the night with T and i get up the next day feeling like absolute shit because i didn't sleep. i hate it i hate it i hate it!!!!!!!

also i was in barcelona for christmas. it was so much fun. it honestly felt strange to be back in that city. familiar but not. i spent a lot of time there in 2016 and it was weird to be like, oh i remember eating breakfast in that mcdonald's with my friend hashi more than seven years ago. or how i used to take the blue line on the metro to crazy denise's house where i was living. but this time we balled out and spent so much money on food! christmas dinner was the best meal i've ever had in my life. and we went to museums and went on a roadtrip and saw castles and drank a lot of vermouth and reveled in the sunlight and laughed until we cried every single day. i really loved that trip.

i was somewhat of a control freak on the trip because i planned everything, but no one else seemed that interested in planning anyway. i don't know. i've been thinking about my flaws as a person. i'm super laid back sometimes and then so controlling other times. i'm so impatient. i think i'm better than everyone sometimes. i need praise and reassurance. maybe i just have a big, fragile ego. sometimes i feel like i'm selfish. but you know, none of us are perfect. i am trying. and this is where i'm at.

#journal

[iphoneartgirl]

Takin’ Up With ‘Nother Ramblin’ Man. © 2023, Meri Aaron Walker, iPhoneArtGirl. Ashland, OR. All rights reserved. 

Native Cam

Okay, done gone 'n got mixed up with 'nother ramblin man, I reckon.

But Joshua Rascal Walker's Sunday nite ramble made it clear I ain't no young fool schoolgirl no more.

Was right pleased when my little Man done showed up the next mornin' after vanishin'bout 5 PM. Scared me half to death, couldn't figure how he got away and still ain't sure how he got back.

Ain't got no sleep Sunday eve, either. All's I wanted was to heave afore he come back. My feelings was all tangled up when he showed up, you could say.

He was dirty as a hog in slop, no denyin' that.

So, afta'bit, I done washed him, real gentle-like. When I got the water pressure just so, he started tremblin' them lips, shakin'em like Elvis. Whole lotta shakin' goin' on, not the bad sort - happy shakin. Eyes shut, head thrown back, arms spread wide.

When it was done, I gave him a soft towelin' off. No noisy, nerve-janglin' hot air blowers messin' with my man. Oh no, no, no. Mama takes proper care of her little Man.

Ain't nothin' but the best for my Josh.

Once we made our way back home, he took hissef a good nap. (Lord knows he needed it after whatever he was up to that night...)

Once he woke up, I fetched him a toy to tear into. Then we had ourselves a real serious talk 'bout how I got needs to understand when he needs his own space.

Before, not afta.

Modern woman I am, value my independence. We don't gotta be clingin' like ivy.

But I told him I gots t'be in charge of when I'm gettin' some SPACE in this relationship. Can't have "space" sneakin' up on me from behind.

At 73, it ain't like when I was young and could be runnin' round plasterin' poles with lost dog posters. Them energetic days are long gone. My nerves can't take it when someone I love just up and disappears.

This week marks two months of me 'n' Josh together, a real tale like Harold and Maude. He's a year and a half, but he's got an old soul, 'bout 45 in there. Me, I'm 73, feelin' like a sprightly 13 ½.

Both of us tryin' our hardest to make sense of what's betwixt us 'cause we fancy each other, even though we're worlds apart.

So, I wants y'all to know I done made my peace with our boundary conversation so’s you can help hold me to it.

Jus' look at Josh's face in that picture up top and you'll see he gave the situation a genuine ponder.

The way he worked it out in his mind was to go on and sign right up for a shiny new Discover Card, gettin’ DOUBLE CASH BACK on all his buys till year’s end. Promised he’d hand over the cash to Mama soon as it comes.

Since we ain't been together long, I reckoned I could make do with that for now. Me bein’ a fire survivor and all, I needs the help.

Would rather jus'be with him all day, every day, but seems he ain't quite ready for that level of spiritual commitment. So 'til he is, I'll keep on truckin' as his Material Girl Mama, livin' in a material world... takin' all that double cash back he'll hand over.

❤️🎶🎼🎹💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻😍

But that's not what l'm in this for wit’him. I want the whole enchilada. I want his whole heart.

I can be patient.

But, I can already see most of his double cash back goin' towards me buyin' him toys ‘cause he tears 'em up faster'n a jackrabbit.

Yet, what else can I do? That little critter's so dadgum cute, I can't hardly take my eyes or hands offa him.

I need all y’all to help hold me to my short-term compromise now, y’hear?

And I still am going to be thankin’ all y’all my whole life for helpin’ me get through that ramblin’ nite. You just let me know if one of your love ones goes ramblin’ and I’ll be prayin’ with you till they come home.

[a-soul-full-of-stars]

"almost saying i love you before stopping themselves" for the matchcred prompts please!!!!

“Stop! Thieves!!”

The stallkeep’s words ring out over the crowds on Saphire Avenue, chasing after a pair of Brass Blades, panting, their armor an oven in the midday sun. They press hurriedly through the crowds, clearly hunting for something or someone.

Unseen and pressed into the shadow of a sidestreet, two more figures watch as the Blades pass them by. One, a hyur of about eight and twenty years, the other a younger m'iquote dressed in the manner of a gladiator. Thancred Waters and Match Munroe, getting themselves in trouble once more.

“Did we lose ‘em?” Match’s voice is a hissed whisper.

“Heh.. It would appear so. Unsurprising. The Brass Blades are far from the cream of the crop as far as law enforcement goes."

It's been a long few weeks of misadventures such as this, ever since Thancred's curiosity over this seemingly-invulnerable new fighter in the Bloodsands had gotten the better of him and he'd invited the young m'iquote for a night of carousing. Since then, he's found himself in more scrapes than he has in years, pulling pranks like a wharf-rat barely out of his short trousers. And yet he can't deny it's been the most fun he's had since leaving Old Sharlyan.

“Buncha pricks if you ask me," Match sniffs. "Them and the Yellow Jackets. Besides," he smiles, tossing a shining apple to his white-haired companion, "it's only a bit of fruit, right?"

Thancred catches the apple in one hand, smiling back as his friend takes a white, toothy bite. Juice dribbles down the m'iquote's chin. It is true what the Limsan privateers say; the thieved apple certainly does taste sweeter. "Another daring heist pulled off without a trick. I commend you for your speed with a snatched prize."

Match beams, winking, juice still dripping from his mouth. "How about we step up the prize next time? Seeing as we make such a good team and all."

Thancred raises a teasing eyebrow, eyes lingering on those juice-stained lips for just a moment. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Match's expression changes. He raises a finger, his brows furrowing in righteous anger. "Well, there's this hunter, see, comes through every coupla weeks to sell what he's caught. Thing is, there's this one git what buys the whole lot and then sells it in scraps for way more gil just so none of us Pearl Alley lot can even get a taste!" Match sniffs. "I reckon we wait 'til his spent his gil then snatch the whole lot. Make it that we get to be the ones eating like empresses for once."

"A daring proposal. And how would suggest we go about seizing your prize?"

"Easy! We go up, all cloaks and stuff, pretend to be buyers, then you snatch the meat, I flip the table, then make for Thanalan until the Brass Blades get tired of lookin'!"

Thancred can't help but laugh at the simple, silly audaciousness of the so-called plan. “You’re a wild one, Match, and no mistake! Gods but I love-” He catches himself just in time, heart pounding at the narrow miss. Easy there, Waters. That's a dangerous thought. No time for words like that. Not in his line of work.

Match raises an eyebrow. “What was that, Than?”

“I love… How much fun I've been having. With you.” The smile on Thancred’s face doesn't quite reach his eyes. Not that the m’iquote notices.

Match grins back. “You’re not so bad yourself. Didn’t know you had it in you, pulling tricks like this!”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me and my misspent youth, Munroe.” And if I’m not careful, one day some of it will slip out. That and all too much more.

And there it is, the dark cloud in Thancred's heart that snatches "love-yous" from his lips before they have a chance to become more than thought. Twelve know he's a dishonest man by trade. Aye, and good at that trade too. Would not do to let sentimentality get in the way of that now. Besides, still plenty of fun ways to assess the potential of this strange, wild boy he's found without making fools of them both. He grins again, this time with a little more conviction. "Well, why not. Let's find this dishonest merchant making gold from hunger and see if we can't teach him a lesson or two."

...

Thank you for the ask @yloiseconeillants! Match and Thancred's long summer of Ul'Dahn misadventures is probably the happiest they are in their relationship, so it was great to give a bit of a snapshot into what that looked like.

unresolved feelings prompts!

#matchcred #ask me about my wol #ask me about match #yloiseconeillants #writing #my writing #thancred x wol #thancred

[just-my-type-x]

Do you reckon they will go home after Milan? they have like a 2 week break til their next show (which I find odd)

Definitely they're going home

Maybe they couldn't set the date earlier to the venue

[ohpleaselarry]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2022

Thank you @greenblueish and @brightgolden for the tag! I did this last year but I couldn’t find it haha, so if I have repeating answers, oh well! Here we go :)

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 7 (though it’d technically be more as the a-z series are separate fics)

2. Word count posted for the year: 314,557!

3. Fandoms I wrote for: one direction

4. Pairings: Larry

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: dont know its lost til you find it

Bookmarks: dont know its lost til you find it

Comments: Louis&Harry: A-Z

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): 

a-z for sure. It has, and continues to, push me like crazy to not only write an unfamiliar prompt, but also to write quicker than I usually do. (I say as I haven’t updated it in 6 months lmao)

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

honestly, this is something I never thought I’d say, but I’m rather proud of everything I’ve done this year. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so even if I’m happy enough to upload, ill always find something that could’ve been changed, but despite that I feel like I grow more and more every year.

8. Share or describe a favourite review you received:

this is my least favourite question because I love each and every comment I get. I don’t have a specific one to shout-out, but I do have many users I look forward to seeing the comments of. Any comments that mention specific parts or quotes of the fic that they loved are always really lovely to read and make me smile so much.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard:

the last two months have been the hardest this year, which is probably clear by the lack of uploads. I started a new antidepressant in October and it’s taken a toll on me quite heavily physically, and therefore also on the creative side of myself. I’m settling into my dose, though, and have started to write consistently again these last few weeks! Not to mention my mental health is steadily increasing for the first time since I was 12 years old, so I definitely think this’ll be a great positive change for my writing.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

The alpha drop, probably. I wasn’t sure if it was going to be good, seeing as I couldn’t find anything on any omegaverse forums about alpha drops even being a thing, so I was sort of flying blind. Luckily, it seems to be taken well and in the end I rather liked it.

11. A favourite excerpt of your writing:

This is a hard question, especially since I don’t enjoy rereading my fics, as I tend to only find mistakes, but I’m trying to get better at being proud of myself, so I’m going to cheat a little and say the whole introduction up to the boys meeting in night song is my favourite. Writing an au that isn’t my own makes it even harder to be proud of, especially when the source is something as incredibly well done as studio ghibli, but I truly tried my best to not only capture the essence of the original film, but also make it my own, and I’m quite proud of the fic as a whole.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Reckon I could look back and find a thousand different answers to this question, as I feel like I grow as a writer every few months, haha, but probably the biggest growth has been letting go of word count expectations. I used to be quite hard on myself about it, and would have a silly “minimum of 20k or nothing” rule for myself. Though I know I still have a ways to go in terms of writing self-love, allowing myself to write until it feels good, rather than when I’ve reached the “minimum” acceptable word count, has been an incredible weight off my shoulders. Writing shouldn’t be stressing me out, and it took me a long time to realise that, but I’m glad I have.

13. How do you hope to grow next year:

I hope to learn new writing patterns. I feel like there are a handful of parallels in all of my fics, and I’d like to move onto more varying ways of writing.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Unsure if this counts, and I’m 90% sure this was my answer last year as well, but it’ll definitely have to be music, usually classical or instrumentals. I listen to it every single time I write, and it is my biggest motivator.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

I’ll be home tonight, definitely. I feel like there’s a bit of me in every fic I write, but that one was the most this year.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Don’t give up a scene even if you think it’s shit. Finish it out, and move on to the next one. You can always go back and fix it later. Keeping the flow of non-block is much more important.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: 

I’m really hoping to finish a-z before 2023 is up, especially because I have another long series planned that I refuse to start before a-z is finished, as I’d hate to lose motivation for it.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

I feel like everyone’s done this already, so I tag anyone who’s read this and wants to do it :)

#mutual games #annual writing self evaluation

[redroci]

all your wips had me 👀 but i would love to know more about i'm writing this for me ok (sounds self-indulgent, i like self-indulgent) and forth, and fear no darkness.

I'm writing this for me ok IS self indulgent, good catch 😂 basically I take every piece of media I have ever enjoyed and smash them all together, mix in my comfort oc Alex, and sort of hint at a plot

“Anyway, we got out clean.”

“Thought we got out clean,” Dutch interjected, earning a jab in the ribs from Alex.

“We did. Intel said we got them all, but a few months ago the team guys started turning up dead.”

“It wasn’t anything like as dramatic as that sounds, not at first. Nobody looks too hard when a guy who got out recently does himself in, and Garrett’s wife left him while we were on that tour. Sully wrapped his car around a tree and they reckoned he was drunk. Then Matheson got shot in his apartment and they said robbery gone wrong, but…” Dutch trailed off, and Alex picked up the thread again.

“But he was a SEAL, and that made 3 guys from the same team.”

“Three times is enemy action,” Michael said grimly, and the other two nodded.

“I was hiking up in the Rockies when they tried for me,” Dutch said. “Four man team. Wouldn’t go so far as to say professionals, but not random thugs either. I practically grew up out there though. None of them are ever coming back down that mountain. That sold me on somebody hunting my team, but I wasn’t sure who I could trust with it ‘til Alex called.”

“We were back in the sandbox when this was happening. Got back stateside a couple weeks ago. Quarantine, debrief, that whole song and dance, and then R&R, right? The guys all had family in California to go home to, but I decided -last minute, like as the transport was landing last minute- to fly out to Hawaii to surprise a friend. The first night I was there, they hit us. Four man team, like Dutch said. Steve thought they were there for him, apparently people break into his house and try to shoot him on a fairly regular basis. You’d like him, I think. Wasn’t until my CO called to check up on me the next morning that we found out it was me they were after. Guess they got impatient with the quiet approach, cause they hit all five of us the same night. Killed Markham and his boyfriend, Torres and his mom and grandparents. Taylor's in a coma and if he lives someone is gonna have to tell him his wife and kids didn't. Ahmadi's officially missing, they found two dead thugs and a fair amount of blood in his apartment."

Forth and fear no darkness is the mass effect wip, James Shepard's story. He... Could use a hug, honestly.

Anderson's presence haunts the apartment like a ghost: everywhere he turns a reminder of the admiral's life, and of the void where he ought to be standing. It was like this the first time he took the Normandy out too: the sense of being in someone else's space, the expectation that he'd turn around and Anderson would be there, wanting to know what Shepard was doing in his chair. From the coffee in the cabinet to the piano in the living room (he didn't even know Anderson could play) to the medals displayed in the office… make yourself at home, he'd said, but all James can think about is Earth and all that's lost there with every minute he spends here.

#spot the references in my silly little crossover 😅

[justwosothings]

Well there you go, Erin is back at training. And according to Perth News Sam is heading back to London next week. I guess will see Kristie there next week too since Gotham next game isn't til the 31st.

Chelsea content incoming. I’ve missed them.

Yeah I reckon she will see her soon

[ooops-i-arted]

From A Certain Child’s Point of View:  Interludes Chapter 2:  The Dream

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, the blanket getting wetter from his tears.  Hiccups tear through his throat no matter how he tries to stop them.  His head hurts and he just wants Dad.

But then he senses that familiar presence!  Dad is coming back to the ship!  Dad! he screams as loud as he can.  Dad!  Dad!  DAD!

He can hear Dad run up into the ship and to the bunk, his boots stomping louder and louder until finally the bunk door opens and Dad is there, his blaster in his hand.  “What?!  What is it?!” asks Dad.

Read on AO3

#no reckoning til next week #from a certain child's point of view #fic #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #baby yoda

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #teacher!h

[staranon95]

DinCobb Week Day 5: Sharing Cultures (SFW)

for @dincobbweek​ with a wedding!!

@astrangebird​ drew some fantastic art and i decided to write a piece about it. that’s that. that’s all of it.

AO3 Link

Wait For Me Here

“We should get married,” Din idly said one day when they were in bed, side by side to wait out the worst of the day’s heat.”

“Oh yeah?” Cobb asks. He’s on his stomach, pillowed on his arms. Din knows this without even having to look because he knows Cobb likes sleeping on his front, usually one leg tucked up a bit, sometimes one arm stretched out for Din as if he’s reaching for him in sleep.

“Think about it. We live together.”

“Mm.”

“We cook together.”

“Mmhm.”

“We fight together.”

“Mm.”

“And we have a child together.”

Cobb snorts. “Sharing custody of your child with a Jedi might be putting it a bit generous.”

“There are also the school kids.”

“’cause half the time I have to tell them not to get into shit they shouldn’t.”

“Still.”

“Still,” Cobb says and breathes in. Then he opens his eyes and Din turns on his side to face him. “Marriage, huh?”

“Mmhm. Unless if . . .”

“Unless?”

“I don’t know what marriage customs are like on Tatooine, and the ones I’ve been invited to were Tusken in nature.”

“Well, shoot, partner, I reckon we go just as hard with our wedding flair as them Tuskens do.”

“Is that so?”

Cobb nods tiredly against his arms and closes his eyes. “Two-day affair most of the time. Eat and drink late into the night, sleep a few hours, and then get up in the morning for the breakfast feast. Everyone comes out with everything. Real big community thing as well.”

“I, I might like to see that.”

“What about you Mandalorians though?” Cobb then shifts suddenly, rising up long enough to lie himself across Din’s chest and hold him close with a leg in between Din’s. “I know you’ve . . . I know it’s not easy for you.”

Din sighs. The fallout from the survivors of his clan is still fresh. At least they didn’t strip him of his armour, but he doesn’t think they see him as Mandalorian anymore. He saw to their relocation on Tatooine with Boba Fett’s help, and finally they can live without the fear of being seen or being caught. But they will not accept Din as one of their own, not anymore, not after he gave up the Darksaber, allowed his face to be seen, and nearly broke every Creed he had taken on as a young adult.

“Well, the weddings were mostly, they were short,” Din admits. “Usually it requires an exchange, especially if one member were coming from a different clan.”

“An exchange of what?”

“Equipment. Weapons or armour. I once saw someone approach the Armourer to ask her how to show them to make a knife for their betrothed. It’s meant to be personal to a degree. Either you got this weapon in battle or you’re offering up a piece of yourself, your beskar’gam.”

Cobb hums. “Sounds very official.”

“Marriage is a pact. You raise warriors. You grow the clan. You protect the clan.”

“Mm. I can work with that.”

Din smiles. “You’re a very agreeable partner.”

“I try.”

…

What starts out as a simple comment quickly turns into nearly a town wide event. Neither Din nor Cobb know how the secret got out. They were thinking, originally, a small affair with their closest associates. Boba is even willing to host at his palace, and Din is fine with that. But then word gets out, as it always does, that the Marshal and the Mandalorian are planning to get married, and now here they are, eating breakfast at Werlo’s cantina, getting approached by one of the mothers in town who’s there after dropping her kids off at the school, no doubt, casually talking like Din and Cobb know what’s going on.

“Marshal! Have you decided on a date yet?”

Cobb blinks and looks to Din before looking at the woman. “Excuse me?”

“For the wedding! Gaia said you and the Mandalorian were planning to marry.”

Din chokes on his caf.

“Um, well.” Cobb reaches out to pat Din’s hand. “We were planning a small ceremony.”

“Nonsense! I know you’re both busy men. We can handle all the logistics for you. All you and your fiancé need to do is show up to the day!”

“Well, Lee, thank you for the offer,” Cobb says, and Din can see he’s trying to be polite about it, but Din knows Cobb has a hard time turning down any of the favours the townspeople show him.

“It’s my pleasure, Marshal. It’s been some time since we’ve had cause to celebrate! We’ll be in touch!”

“Yeah, Lee. See you.”

Once she’s gone, Cobb looks to Din, and Din tries to smother his smile behind his hand.

“Hey, this is your town too,” Cobb says.

“I know. I guess a small ceremony is no longer in the works.”

“They were going to find out one way or another.”

…

From how Cobb explained it, Din thought he had a good idea of what entailed a Tatooine wedding from the settler-slave population. Good food, good drinks, good company.

“Have you thought about a house yet?”

Din looks to Jo as he’s elbow deep in a speeder. “What?”

“You know,” she says like Din should know. “A house.”

“Why would I—”

“Oh. You don’t know. Right.” She pops her lips. “It’s a Tatooine thing. ‘specially for freed slaves and poor settlers. It’s a thing of pride to be able to provide a place like a home. I know my dad worked hard to get an apartment for me and my ma while he also worked to get our manumission. Tiny one bedroom place ‘til I moved out here. But he was very proud of that place when he had it. Point is—what are you bringing to the table, Din?”

Din blinks and reaches for a towel to wipe sweat from his brow. “I hadn’t thought of anything.”

“Let me give you the one up ‘cause I know the Marshal won’t be asking’ for it himself.” She slides down from her perch on a workbench to lean over the speeder. “Man needs himself a proper house. And I’m talking a proper house. Most of the buildings here are temporary. They’re not built for long term which is why they require so much maintenance. Houses underground are the way to be. They take a while, sure, but when you’ve got a village.”

He frowns. “I thought that was for raising children.”

“Villages are for everything here, Din. If you want to give him something good, really show you love him, come find me when you’ve got free time. I’m pretty sure I can help you out with that issue.”

She then leaves and Din tries to return to his work at hand, but he’s stuck on the thought of a house. Of building a house for him and Cobb and for Grogu when he and his Jedi visit. Where they can host friends and not feel too crammed in Cobb’s home as it is. Where they can actually bring their lives and interests together in one shared space. A shared unit.

Cobb enters the garage looking like he’s dressed up to head into town, and Din stands to greet him. “Hey, darlin’!” He kisses Din on the cheek. Din wrinkles his nose.

“I’m dirty.”

“We’ve been worse to each other. Now. I’m headin’ into town for a bit. Told Jo to hold down the fort and you’re here for back up.”

Din nods. “You don’t want me coming with you?”

“Baby, I know you don’t like to travel to Mos Eisley. Take it easy. I’ll be back shortly after dinner.”

“Okay.”

He helps Cobb push out his speeder onto the main street of Mos Pelgo and kisses him once more before Cobb pulls his scarf up over his mouth and nose and pulls his goggles down over his eyes and offers Din a two fingered salute and then he’s off.

Din trudges down the street towards where Jo is leaning against the wall of the cantina. “So. A house.”

She nods. “Come on. Let’s talk logistics.”

…

In what they originally wanted to be a quick and short wedding turns into a several month-long affair as Mos Pelgo comes out in spades to support their Marshal and Mandalorian in tying the knot. They plan for food and for drinks. They send out invites to the local Tuskens, who also seem enthused that Din is getting married. They think it a good match, and well, at least Din has their approval.

The building of the Marshal’s new house is quietly under wraps. All Cobb knows is that a new house is being built, but he thinks it for one of the families in town, even comes by to watch Din at work in the staked-out pit, helping to dig down and remove sand until they come to the more compacted ground that they can put stabilizers against and hold in place before they’re pouring the plaster and concrete for the walls.

Whenever Din has a spare moment, he plans with Jo for the interior. A nice open kitchen. A large room for the both of them with an en-suite bathroom. There is not only one guest room but two. One that will largely be Grogu’s when he’s here to stay, and also one for the Jedi if he plans on staying the night. Sometimes he does.

Then there’s the living room, circular in design that could hold a dozen people comfortably, and knowing Cobb, he’ll like the opportunity to entertain more. Din thinks it’s perfect, and he finds as he puts the work into making a home, he realizes he’s looking forward to it not just for Cobb’s promised happiness, but also his own. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually had a proper home like this. Not since Aq Vetina anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” Cobb says that night when they’re finishing the dishes after dinner.

Din shrugs. “Just happy I guess.”

“Good.” Cobb kisses him quickly on the cheek. “You deserve to be.”

…

One of the next steps for the wedding is the clothes themselves. For Cobb it means he’s getting a robe made for himself. White, flowing fabric with a fancy gold trim around the hems. It’s a standard piece of Tatooine marriages, and Din feels himself sort of bereft that he doesn’t have something similar.

So he plans a visit to Boba’s because they have a shared lineage, and Din can’t exactly walk up to where his old tribe is and ask, “Can any of you help me dress for my wedding? Even though you see me as dar’manda and probably wouldn’t accept my marriage to an outsider?”

Best not to think of it.

He rides with Cobb to the palace, but Cobb isn’t planning on staying.

“I got business in town,” he says. “Might be a while. You okay staying here tonight?”

“Of course.”

“’kay. Kiss.”

He tilts up for Din to lean down and kiss him before waving him off. Then Din heads towards the palace and is let in by the guards.

It’s one of Boba’s work days, meaning he’s not seeing court, which means he’s pouring drinks for him, Fennec, and Din to enjoy. He always serves the strong stuff, which makes Din’s throat burn, but he’s getting used to it.

“So how is it anyway?” Boba asks, reclined on one of the sofa’s where Fennec can press her feet against his thigh.

“Going well,” Din says, keeping his eyes on the dark liquor in his glass. “The house is coming along.”

“You still haven’t told him yet?” Fennec asks.

Din shakes his head. “I want to keep it a surprise for him.”

“Sounds like you got it bad.”

“And you don’t?”

Fennec chuckles and Boba smiles amusedly.

“Fennec’s not exactly my queen here,” Boba says.

“That’s right. I’m an empress.”

“Still. A house sounds like a good idea. Putting down roots. Settling in.”

“It’s about time,” Din says, taking a sip. He smacks his lips. “But it’s getting close to the day and . . . the seamstress offered to tailor me something, but I was hoping for something more—”

“Familiar?” Boba offers. Din nods.

“I think you can help with that,” Fennec says. “Despite what he might say, Boba’s become a real fashion snob.”

“It’s not fashion when you have to wear it to impress people who won’t take you seriously otherwise. The battle armour doesn’t always work.”

“Sure,” she says. “We’ll go with that.”

“I’ll see what I got.”

They eventually move to Boba and Fennec’s shared private quarters where Din can examine the clothing in front of a mirror.

“If you’re looking for something more Mandalorian,” Boba says from within his closet. “I’d suggest the lavalava. Especially if you’re aiming for tradition.”

“Bring out the blue one if you have it,” Fennec says.

Boba returns holding what Din first sees as a skirt, but recognizes the design of it when he was first living in the Fighting Corps’ barracks as a child. It’s meant to be a more formal piece of Mandalorian wear for more casual settings if one didn’t want to dress up in full battle armour. It’s meant to just sit on the hips.

Boba gets him to try it on right there. “You’d probably just wear a light pair of leggings underneath,” he says.

“Oh, and then,” Fennec says, rising to her feet and entering the closet. She returns with a lighter blue cloak and a red sash. “Tie it off with this sash here.” She wraps it around his waist. “And then the cloak like this.” She lets it sit on one shoulder and brings the two ends together to pin at his other shoulder. “You know, I might have a broach that could fit this. Din, hold this for me. I’ll be right back.”

He does as he’s told and looks at himself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” Boba says. “Colour suits you.”

Din turns a bit to admire himself in the mirror. He looks at Boba in the reflection and asks, with his stomach fluttering, “Have you spoken to the clan?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Last week I think.”

Din hums.

“They’ve settled in just fine. Getting along with the Tuskens just fine, but seems like they got more in common than they do the settlers.”

Din nods. “I had a feeling they would.”

“Have you . . .”

“Not since they relocated.”

Boba hums.

“Here we go,” Fennec says, coming back into the room with a silver brooch—in the shape of a Mythosaur skull.

“I didn’t know you had that, cyar,” Boba says.

“It was a gift from a long time ago. Guy who gave it to me certainly wasn’t Mandalorian, but I think it’s best to return it to someone it should actually belong to.” She fixes the brooch to the cloak and then turns Din to face the mirror directly. “There. Now you look ready to get married.”

Din runs his fingers through his hair. He might want to get it cut before the wedding, but he knows Cobb likes it when it’s longer and it holds its waves more. He should at least shave. The uneven scruff on his jaw isn’t all that appealing to himself.

“Stars, it’s going to be a mad house on the day of,” Boba says. “Seems like we’ll have to bring the good stuff, Fennec.”

“You’re telling me.”

…

In the days leading up to the wedding, Din sees to the final touches of the house, ensuring the furniture is in place with room for more when they make the final move. He plans on surprising Cobb that day.

They have a good celebration the night before at the cantina, drinks on the house, and then, in Tatooine fashion, the couple are separated the night before. Din is headed off by Boba and Fennec to Din’s new house, and Cobb is dragged away by his deputy Jo to his house.

“Rest up, vod,” Boba says. “You got a long day ahead of you.”

The next morning, Fennec helps him get ready for the day, making sure his hair is just right, and the cloak is sitting on his shoulders just so. Boba is there in his armour, and Din feels a sour note in his stomach that he’s not wearing any of his. He wouldn’t feel right after his expulsion from the clan.

“You still want the Mandalorian vows?” Boba asks.

Din nods. “If you can.”

“I’d be honored, vod.”

And then he’s led out with his friends on either side of him down the main street with everyone and then some—Tuskens, out of town friends, some of Boba’s closer associates—have come out in full force down the street as it’s been fully decorated for the day.

The ceremony itself is held at one end of the town where an arch of bone from bantha horns has been carved as a gift from the Tuskens. And that’s when Din sees him—Cobb, dressed in white with gold trim and with the hood up over his head, a red sash at his waist as if to match Din’s without even knowing. His back remains turned as Din walks up the aisle towards the arch and then he’s standing next to Cobb, shoulder to shoulder, with Cobb’s lifelong friend and impromptu wedding officiator Issa-Or standing before them. Din keeps his eyes forward for now, waiting for the right moment to face his soon-to-be husband head on.

“Now, I know ya’ll have come out and taken time off of your busy schedules,” Issa-Or says. “And we don’t have much time to dilly-dally like they did in the nicer districts in Mos Eisley and the rest. Time wasn’t a luxury for people like us, so we had to make do. Which is why we’re here to see that Cobb Vanth, Marshal here in Mos Pelgo, spends the rest of his days married to none other than a Mandalorian! Someone he chose to let into his life, his home, and share the rest of his time in this mortal coil with.”

Din feels himself blushing, feels a smile breaking out over his face.

“Cobb?”

He sees Cobb lift his head.

“Why don’t you take a look at your man?”

He feels Cobb reach for his hand and Din gently turns with a little prodding. And as he turns, he sees Cobb pushing back his hood, and Din feels as if he could cry at the sight of him.

He sees Cobb’s lower lip tremble before he smiles, as bright as Tatooine’s suns themselves. “Din.” Cobb lifts Din’s hand and holds it between both of his own. Then Cobb laughs despite himself. “First time I’ve been without words in a while.”

There are a few laughs among the crowd.

“Darling, my love. First day I laid eyes on you, I knew I couldn’t let you go. And I am a richer man for having you. Even if I don’t got much but my name and my reputation and the good will of the people before us, I hope to give you everything you could ever need.” Then he raises Din’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly.

“At this point, we’d say a done deal and have a feast,” Issa-Or says. “But as it is, Din is a Mandalorian, and we want to respect that part of him, so he comes with his own vows.”

She steps aside to let Boba come up.

“If you’ll both repeat after me,” he says. “We are one together.”

“Mhi solus tome,” Din says, quietly, only enough for Cobb and Boba to really hear.

He watches Cobb smiles, the pink curl of his tongue before he’s repeating in Basic. “We are one together.

“We are one when parted.”

“Mhi solus dhar’tome.”

“We are one when parted.”

“We share all.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“We share all.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Oya, vod,” Boba mutters.

And Din finds himself feeling bashful, and that’s when Cobb pulls him closer by his hands.

“Now I consider that we’re well and truly hitched now,” he says, and Din rushes in to cup his face and kiss his riduur in front of an adoring and loving crowd.

…

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of being at Cobb’s side, being dragged away from Cobb, of Cobb being dragged away from him. Dance until his feet ache and he’s dizzy. More food than he’s used to. More drinks than he can tolerate, and falling asleep in a tent when he’s imbued too much with a pink cheeked Cobb next to him.

A few hours of sleep later and they’re back at it again for a more restful filled breakfast and relaxed conversation before finally, the festivities are over and people begin to head back to their business.

“Do you want to go home?” Din asks.

Cobb stretches and yawns, looking exhausted but content with his station in life. “You have read my mind.”

They walk down the street together, their clothes in a state of disarray before Din is leading him elsewhere.

“Babe, where . . .” Then it dawns on him and Din can’t help but smile. “No,” he says.

Din nods. “Come on. Let me show you to our home.”

Cobb is speechless when they enter the new partially buried house. He’s taken by how large it is, how high the ceilings are now, and how cool and inviting it is. Then he rushes forward to kiss Din and hold him close. “Oh, you are full of surprises.”

“Jo told me it’s a custom.”

“Well, not always a custom, but we pride ourselves on being able to provide.”

“Then let me provide for you.”

They kiss again, deeper this time until Cobb pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Mm. As much as I’d like to christen this place, I’m bushwhacked.” Then he’s pulling Din into the bedroom where they collapse onto the bed as husbands, as riduurs.

…

“Hey, Din. You awake?”

Din stretches out on the bed and opens weary eyes to find Cobb kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

“What time’s it?” he asks.

“Afternoon-ish. Just went out to get some things from the old place, and, um, I guess now is as good a time as any to give this to you.” He sets a bundle of cloth knotted off with string on the bed before Din, and Din rises up on one elbow to look at it.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Din says, tugging at the strings.

“Yeah, well.” Cobb rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his. “I felt like I had to for this one.”

In the cloth is an ornate dagger with its own leather sheath. When Din pulls the blade, he’s mesmerized with how the blade shimmers. A single piece that looks like it’s been carved from onyx.

“Cobb, I—” Then he sees the mark in the hilt of it.

The mark of his tribe. The Mythosaur skull. On the other side is the mark of the mudhorn.

He looks up to Cobb. “Where did you get this?”

“Well, I, I went to your clan.”

Din breathes out and sits up in full with the dagger in his lap. Cobb comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“When you told me about your customs, and seeing your armour just sitting in our wardrobe for months, I wanted, I wanted to confront your clan. I know things are rocky between you and them, but I went in there to just speak with them at first. Then next thing I know, I’m sitting on the ground drinking tea with your matriarch.”

Din closes his eyes for a moment.

“And I don’t tell her everything, I don’t ream her out or nothing. I know you hold her in high regard. But I told her I was intending on marrying you and I wanted to do it right by you. No one else. So, she said she’d show me how to make something. And each time I visited, she’d ask about you and I’d tell her that, oh, you were a guest speaker in the school today, or you had fixed the power generators. And she’d tell me my smithy skills were shit and tell me to begin again.”

Din laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Then she asked me why I wanted to marry you. And I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy, giving you everything you could ever need. And she said, he deserves it.”

He lifts his head to look at Cobb. “She said that?”

Cobb nods. “I think she misses you. She won’t say it, but she does. I think it’s just taking some time for her and some of the others to come around to this new world order of theirs. But next time I go, I want you to come with me.”

Din nods. “Yes. Yes, I’d love that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses Cobb several times and holds him close with the knife on the bed spread next to him.

They don’t plan the trip out to Din’s clan for some weeks yet. They have a house to settle into after all. But then one day, they’re setting out on Cobb’s speeder. This time Din is wearing his armour with the knife at his hip. And this time they are facing Din’s clan together as one.

#dincobb #din djarin #cobb vanth #mandalorian #dincobbweek #dincobbweek2021 #dincobb week #star speaks #star writes

[dembenchboys]

Don’t - Tyson Jost

AN: this has been in my notes for like 6-7 months now I hope you enjoy! It’s based if the song don’t by Ed Sheeran.

Warnings: cheating and a mention of sex nothing detailed at all.

Word count: 1.9k

I met this girl late last year

She said, “Don’t you worry if I disappear”

“Yes.” That's the response Layla whispered in Tyson’s ear after he asked her to spend the night with him. As he planted more open mouth kisses to her neck, Tyson could feel her breath quicken and her plus racing up.

Tyson wasn't expecting to be taken back by the stunning brunette with green eyes who he locked eye contact with as she was busy dancing in the corner with her girlfriends when he went to the local bar Monday night with the boys for a simple night of relaxing. When they bumped into one other at the counter and she introduced herself to him while grabbing a drink, he wasn't expecting his heart to race a little quicker. He hadn't expected to be bringing her home at the end of the night, yet here he was, holding her hand as they climbed into the car he had booked for them.

What Tyson really wasn't prepared for was the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up to an empty bed and a piece of paper on his nightstand with only 11 numbers scribbled on it.

I told her I’m not really looking for another mistake

I called an old friend thinking that the trouble would wait.

Tyson realized he should've tossed the little letter away as soon as he got off the phone with JT who reminded him to think with his head and recommend throwing it away. But Tyson, on the other hand, was always one to follow his emotions rather than his mind or gut instincts. After all, he was known as a softy for a reason. His head was telling him that he should simply toss the paper away since it was just going to cause him misery. His emotions, on the other hand, were reminding him of how he felt last night when he made eye contact with her. They were reminding him of how his heart raced and how he felt a nervous pulse in his stomach for the first time in a long time.

So, four mornings after waking up to an empty bed, he decided to take the plunge and message her. He realized that texting her at 11:00 a.m. would not lead her to believe it was a booty call. Tyson opted to keep it short and sweet, only saying, "Hey, how are you?" And before he could back out, he sent the message, not realizing how drastically those four words would impact his year.

It was 10:45 p.m., according to the clock. Tyson had become increasingly nervous as Layla had yet to reply. He was thinking to himself, what if he had waited too long, what if she had just left the note out of kindness and didn't mean it? But his phone vibrated in his hand just as he was about to turn it off and put it away for the night. And there was a text message from Layla on his phone screen, saying, "I'm okay, what's up?" “Have you finally missed me enough to send a text?” Tyson felt the blood rush to his checks at that moment, as he hoped she didn't realize how long he had been waiting, but she did. Tyson decided to make up for the fact that he hadn't spoken to her in four days, so he spent the rest of the night getting to know the lovely woman he thought had a good heart.

But then I jumped right in a week later, returned

I reckon she was only looking for a lover to burn

Tyson decided to invite Layla over after about a week of talking with her through his phone and tossing the idea around in his head. He had all of the spare time in the world before heading to Alberta since the Avs season had just ended.

Tyson had discovered recently she was a CU Denver student. So when they agreed on a Saturday, Tyson realized she wouldn't have classes, so he wouldn't have to worry about her cancelling, but he was still worried that she wouldn't actually show up. When a soft knock came to his door around 1:00 p.m., those nerves faded.

When Tyson awoke to an empty bed on the Tuesday morning he was supposed to leave for home, he wasn't surprised. Tyson found himself going to bed with someone and waking up alone more often after that Saturday afternoon spent with Layla at his place.

Then I put it on pause until the moment was right

I went away for months until our paths crossed again

After waking up alone on that Tuesday morning when he had to leave, Tyson wanted to put some space between himself and the situation. Tyson knew that if he went down that particular road with Layla, his heart wouldn't be able to heal if anything bad happened. Tyson tried not to think about her during his time in Alberta, but it became more difficult with each passing day. Tyson found his feelings growing towards her each day. He found himself thinking about her at odd times throughout the day, hanging with his family? Layla. Sitting around the fire pit? Layla. in bed right before he closed his eyes? Layla. She was an addiction, the kind you get when you try a new treat and can't stop thinking about it.

Tyson promised himself he wouldn't message her again until he returned to Colorado, and he kept his word. He'd been back in the city for about three weeks before he decided to pick up where they'd left off.

She told me, "I was never looking for a friend

Maybe you could swing by my room around ten

Baby, bring the lemon and a bottle of gin

We'll be in between the sheets 'til the late AM"

After several late-night phone calls to catch up, Layla eventually told Tyson what this meant to her after he invited her to dinner. “Around 1:00 a.m. on a Monday morning, she muttered to him, "I'm more into the friends with benefits situation right now." Tyson was definitely devastated but he was willing to take whatever Layla had to offer.

Tyson was unprepared for the feeling he got when he glanced down at his phone after leaving JT’s apartment to see a text that said, "baby, I'm swinging by your place with a bottle." Tyson knew that meant he'd wake up alone in the morning, yet he didn't care at the time.

Tyson and Layla had been seeing each other more and more in recent weeks. Tyson’s feelings for Layla became stronger over time, but he never expressed them. He just loved her company, and if that meant getting lost in the sheets more often than not, so be it.

And for a couple weeks I only wanna see her

We drink away the days with a takeaway pizza

Tyson was in a slump, he wasn't producing on the ice as he wanted to, and the media was branding him a draft bust because of it. As a result, he found himself blocking others out, with the exception of one individual. Tyson discovered that Layla was the only one he truly wished to be with. She didn't mention hockey at all, because they could easily lose themselves in each other and block out the rest of the world. They'd eat as much takeout pizza as Tyson's diet permitted.

Yet something changed between them in those few weeks. Layla confessed to developing feelings for the curly-haired boy. As a result, they opted not to label what they were doing, but they did promise not to see other people. Not that Tyson was doing so before.

Wish I'd have written it down, the way that things played out

When she was kissing him, how I was confused about

Now she should figure it out.

Tyson should have known something was wrong when Layla started staying at school longer than usual, but he didn't think much of it, assuming it was just finals. Tyson should have known something was wrong because she took longer to respond to his text messages and began avoiding his phone calls, but he was so wrapped up in the feeling she gave him that he didn't notice. When Layla failed to pick him up from the airport on Sunday morning, Tyson should have known something was wrong, but he just convinced himself she slept in.

But two things happened when the car he ordered from the airport arrived in front of Layla's apartment and he saw her kissing the kid from her biology class: one, Tyson's heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, and two, something clicked and everything made sense to him.

That afternoon, at Tysons' place, he had to have a conversation he would never forget .Layla explained that she genuinely wanted to be with him and that she was just messing around with Tyler, the name of the kid from biology, because she wanted to be official with Tyson. And in a relationship, she puts a significant importance on trust and respect.

So they agreed to become an official couple that day, and the eight weeks that followed were some of the happiest memories Tyson had managed to make.Tyson grew more and more in love with Layla with each passing day, and he indulged in it. He treasured the cuddles and long conversations late at night. Tyson was certain he was in love with Layla, or Ly as he began to refer to her. He was about to reveal her to the group of people in his life that he held in high regard: his teammates.

She was crying on my shoulder, I already told ya

Trust and respect is what we do this for

I never intended to be next

But you didn't need to take him to bed, that's all

And I never saw him as a threat

Until you disappeared with him to have sex, of course

Tyson wasn't expecting to see Layla on the sofa on top of Tyler from biology when he stepped into Layla's apartment on the morning of the 23rd, three days before their three-month anniversary, ready to celebrate because he'd be on the road. But that is precisely what he saw.

Layla didn't know she'd been caught until the beautiful white roses fell to the ground and the door slammed shut  from behind her.

As the knock on Tyson's door rang through the silent apartment, Tyson knew that all that had occurred in the previous year, his best days, and the one person  he could turn too would all be gone in less than 20 minutes.

Tyson had never expected to have a conversation like this one in his dark, relatively clean apartment. When Layla cried on his shoulder, he reminded her of their compromise on trust and respect, telling her, "If you were unhappy, you should have left, I never saw him as a threat, well, before you slept with him of course."

But after all of the screaming and pleading, Layla gathered her belongings and closed the door to Tyson's apartment; the sound that echoed in the house was almost close to Tyson's heart beating in his chest.

As Tyson came into the dressing room the next morning, feeling dishevelled, he grumbled to JT that he should have just thrown it out.

#tyson jost fanfiction #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost fic #tyson jost blurb #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #colorado avalanche #avs #jt compher #nhl writing #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl #my writing

[sophisti-cunted]

1. Last month mum and I went to the zoo. In the aquarium section there is a cow fish. In the next tank there is a sea horse. My mother, pointing, says ‘Sarina! A horse fish!’

2. Discovered on Saturday that I can nearly do the splits. Would have been voted ‘girl least likely to’ if that were any sort of poll in high school. 

3. Balance still shocking. Still slowly working on it. There is an 85 year old lady with Parkinsons in my Saturday morning class who puts me to shame during balance exercises. Given that my ADHD meds may increase my chance of getting some of the ole Parko myself, I reckon I oughta keep chugging along with it and hopefully by the time I am her age I will have her strength and stability. 

4. Two weeks til uni goes back. It’s now two years since I completed a unit. Fuckin covid. Hoping some of the psychological skills I’ve been working on can help with building a sustainable study routine. 

5. One of the young lib creeps from student politics back in the day was outed as a neo-nazi, after filming himself burning an Aboriginal flag last month.  It’s fucked with me a bit emotionally. It’s not like his fucked up behaviour stood out among his cohort. It’s not like they weren’t praised for that behaviour and dominant in their club. It gave them a sense of belonging. When journos talk about radicalisation with someone like that, I can’t divorce it from that reinforcement he got from his peers and people in power back then. I want to know the current views of the people he was associated with, and whether they are capable of any form of self-reflection. Have they reconsidered anything, or are they working their way up in politics or business with better privacy settings and an understanding of mainstream propriety and presentation? 

Those years were so stressful and emotionally volatile. These guys were fucking caricatures of themselves. The antidiluvian alt-right. It was a BIG club. Not everyone in it was involved in student politics but they had the numbers to control it. And it’s a sandstone uni. That club was filled with people from fancy schools and fancy families with fancy careers ahead of them. 

6. It is Valentine’s Day and I started the morning with my psychologist. Last appointment was Xmas Eve. Both of these times were coincidental, she books out many months in advance. But it is FUNNY. Ugh, I gotta get a date. Not, like, today or for today but generally. Yeah my conversation is stilted post-LD but whose isn’t? I’m bored with not dating. 

[innuendostyles]

Your from the UK right??? Not to make u sad but imagine going to Asda with Ben at 2 in the morning (u only went for some milk) and u end up coming out with almost the entire shop in ur trolley 😂😂 Happens to the best of us

YAY

“We’re only going for milk.” He quietly mumbled as he aimed the keys at the car and pressed the lock button, hearing the sound of the mechanisms working to ensure the car wouldn’t get stolen from the car park. He held his hand out for you to take before he crossed the zebra crossings, giving a silent nod to a car that’d stopped so the two of you could pass.

It was a gentle reminder but also a jest at himself, considering the last time he’d gone to Asda this late, he’d returned home with a new DVD player for your living room, an abundance of on-sale Easter chocolate, and a DIY friendship bracelets set (it was located in the 6 years and over section, but he wouldn’t tell anyone that part.)

The bracelets aforementioned had been tied to your wrists for a month and a half now, yours was a braided black, white and yellow band while his was black, white and red. He somehow matched his outfit, black jogging bottoms, a red Nike hoodie and the best part of all…. socks with sliders. You’d claim that if he wore those out of the house, you’d pretend not to know him, but later decided that it was more endearing than embarrassing. His socks were black with red love hearts printed all over them, some you’d got him for Valentine’s Day as he claimed that “a pair of socks is the best present you could ever buy a man.”

You, on the other hand, wore a pair of black leggings, paired with an extremely worn “Rolling Stones 1979 Tour” acid wash t-shirt. Ben had insisted that you wear one of his jackets, given the fact that your local Asda always seemed to be freezing around this time, so it was topped off with a navy blue Nike Air Max windbreaker. Your fluffy bed socks really pulled the outfit together.

You each had one of Ben’s AirPods in your ear, currently listening to a song by The Lumineers, one that Ben described to you as making him feel as if he was “running down a sandy beach trying to get to you.” His pinky finger slid around your pinky finger as he strayed to the shelter where all the trolleys (shopping carts) were located.

He always pushed the trolley, claiming his driving skills were better than yours, but you knew the only reason he enjoyed pushing them so much was so he could “fly down the aisles”, an act in which he would push the cart extremely fast when there was nobody near you, and lift his feet from the ground, letting the cart take all his weight.

The song ended and changed to a Snoop Dogg song, to which you quirked an eyebrow, asking, “What fucking playlist is this?” with a laugh.

You walked through the sliding doors, Ben already getting distracted by some plants that were on clearance at the front doors, silently placing 2 small plant pots with some sort of pink flower in the middle into the cart.

There was a display as soon as you entered the shop floor, a large green cardboard cut out of the grinch, next to it sitting a handful of Christmas DVD’s, letting all the customers know that they could “Buy 1 Christmas DVD and receive a free 9” pizza”. Ben’s eyes immediately lit up, turning his head towards yours as he exclaimed that Christmas films and food are two of his favourite things ever. You shook your head in disbelief as you picked through the DVD’s, most of them being new and animated films you’d never heard of.

You were looking for one in particular, though you had little faith that it would be in the same pile as these cartoon ones. Ben loved The Nativity, one of the funniest Christmas films in the world, he reckons. He thought Martin Freeman was one of the best actors ever, and that along with Marc Wootton, it had to be the best film ever.

You rifled through the array of cases, finally picking out a white cover that read, “The Nativity!” You placed it in the cart, seeing Ben’s eyes light up as he bounced up and down in excitement, like a child.

“Can we get pepperoni on the pizza? Please!” He whined, earning a “yes” from you, to which he skipped down the aisle and giggled like a schoolboy.

You reached the fridges, Ben picking up 2 pints of milk and putting them in the trolley before giving an accomplished nod.

“Can we ‘ave a look at some vinyls?” He asked, with a pleading pout that he knew always won you over.

“Ooh, yeah actually, Gwil said he wanted the Hamilton vinyl a couple of weeks ago. Might be a good present, yeah?” You suggested, knowing it would result in Ben realising he hadn’t yet bought Christmas presents for any of his friends yet, something you’d been trying to gently remind him of for the last couple of weeks.

You made your way to the music section, getting distracted by anything and everything you could find. Ben was clinging onto a t-shirt with a green dinosaur on it, lit up by Christmas lights with a star on top of its head, the phrase “Tree-Rex” printed underneath it.

He held up the knitted fabric to you, and you both whispered, “Joe.” at the exact same time. It was folded and placed into the cart.

A pack of 250 small Christmas cards was the next thing to grab your attention, Ben telling you that the two of you “had to send the neighbours a card this year, considering the amount of times they’ve had to endure foolish giggles and the  creaky bed really late at night!” You’d simply nodded with a chuckle, though he didn’t put them in straight away. He noticed the box had been busted open at the top and went on a hunt for an unopened box. He reached his arm all the way back into the shelf, jokingly asking you to hold his hand so he didn’t get lost. He finally grabbed a pack, throwing them into the trolley from about a meter away and doing a celebratory dance when they went in.

One of the lights overhead flickered, which caused Ben to turn to you with an over-exaggerated gasp, claiming “Asda is haunted!!!!” and running away from you frantically. You guffawed at his antics, lightly jogging after him while trying to catch your breath from laughing.

After collecting your pizza on the way to the music section, Ben made a quick turn down the homeware section. He browsed the cushion cases, holding up a few colours and patterns that he thought may match your living room sofa, all of which received a horrified glare from you (this was the exact reason you didn’t let him take the lead when you decided to start decorating your flat together… his first suggestion was warm brown walls with a stripy turquoise and black sofa…)

He reached the mirror section, finding an extremely large plain mirror, with no frame, slowly running his finger over the edge of it.

“Might buy us this for Christmas.” He stated.

Your brows raised in confusion, tilting your head to tell him you were unsure why he’d said it.

“One of them naughty mirrors…… when you put it on the ceiling so I’d be able to see everything when you’re ridi-“  your hand quickly shot over his mouth, your eyes widening as you took in what he meant. You could feel his lips sporting a smirk beneath your palm. You shook your head and giggled along with him.

“C'mon babe… know you’d love seeing this juicy cheeks every time I’m on top of you…” you lightly smacked his chest and delivered a sharp, yet humorous, “enough!”.

Once you’d finally made it to the music section, Ben appeared to be in his element. He’d picked up the Hamilton vinyl for Gwilym, as well as a new Ariana Grande record for Lucy. He was eyeing up Taylor Swift’s newest release, hoping you wouldn’t notice when he slipped it into the cart. He groaned when you looked him directly in the eyes and shook your head with a knowing smile on your face.

“I was gonna give you that for Christmas! Now you’ve ruined the surprise!” He whined with a pout.

“You are all I want for Christmas.” You replied, already cringing wondering if anyone else had heard you.

He, too, shook his head, but still gave you a quick kiss on the cheek to show his appreciation for you.

The next aisle was the clearance aisle. This was a dangerous one for Ben. His Mum had always taught him “never to pass up a bargain, cause you’ll see it one day, regret not buying it, go back the next day and it’ll be gone!”.

Within 5 minutes of browsing the shelves, he’d picked up a large Christmas-themed Yankee Candle gift set for his brother, a turkey-shaped dog toy for Frankie (this one you’d suggested) as well as a pack of 3 photo frames and a new flower vase for his mum.

Walking to the checkout was always a dangerous game, as the bakery part of the shop was located right next to all the tills. He’d always claim to be “just looking” while you unloaded the trolley onto the moving belt so the cashier could scan your items, and most times he only came back with a box of flapjacks or at the most, 2 jam donuts and a reduced fat chocolate eclair cake.

What you weren’t expecting today, however, was for your boyfriend to return with a basket he’d picked up from somewhere, filled with pastries and cakes that made your mouth water.

“These’ll be alright til Christmas Eve won’t they? Can watch Nativity with our little pizza ‘n then fill ourselves wi’ these after? Yeah?” You didn’t really get a chance to reply before the food was placed down onto the belt. You’d never seen him so happy with himself, thinking he’d just come up with the best idea in the entire world, even though you’d done basically the same thing for the last 2 years of spending Christmas together.

The cashier gave you your total, a whopping £110, even though you’d originally come in for 2 pints of milk, which should’ve brought your total to around…. £3.

He shook his head with a small smile as he took his card out of his wallet, swiping it over the reader and thanking the lady when she gave him his receipt. He rolled the trolley out onto the car park, you following closely behind telling him to unlock the car so you’d be able to hear the beep it made and find it, considering how dark it was outside. After locating the vehicle, he gently placed all the items in the backseat, taking extra care to make sure the pizza was cushioned by Joe’s new shirt and Frankie’s new toy. He dropped the trolley back off at the shelter before getting into the car, strapping his seatbelt and turning the radio on.

Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” filled the speakers, causing Ben to let out a quiet, “What a fuckin’ banger!”.

You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over and give him a peck on the cheek and a ruffle of his hair. You simply were having a wonderful Christmas time.

#WILL ADD A KEEP READING LATER I PROMISE !!!! #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #my work #LUV A GOOD ASDA TRIP

[vesuvian-american-fics]

Something Entirely New Ch 13

Familiarity

Pottery class!!! (AO3)

Words: 1,585

The first week of the festival came and went as swiftly as the passing spring breeze, a blur of laughter, smiles, and newfound happiness. Stolen glances, interlaced fingers, baked goods and lemonade were a daily occurrence the past week. Muriel found peace in that, the daily routine that came about.

“So, this week, the festival merchants have a lot of artsy classes to attend!” Asra chirped, lightly drumming his fists against the dining room's handmade table. Muriel frowned at the way his glass of lemonade threatened to topple over with Asra’s movement, gently he held the cup firmly in his hand.

“Classes?” He grumbled, not too fond of the idea of taking classes during what was meant to be a leisurely vacation.

“Classes like what?” You chimed in, sensing Muriel’s unease.

“Pottery, woodwork, more painting-–” Asra counted off on his fingers, an excitable expression lingering on his features.

“Woodwork? I already know that much...” Muriel commented, taking a sip of his drink to busy himself.

“Like whittling or furniture making?” You asked, your eyes scanning over the way Asra’s shoddy table wobbled on its uneven legs.

“I’m familiar with both.” He responded plainly, though a foreign sense of pride bubbled from within him.

“Muriel can teach you whittling, Y/N.” Asra grinned, once again playing as Muriel’s wingman. Muriel spluttered into his cup before clearing his throat.

“I– I can... if you want...”

“I’d like that! But I am interested in this pottery class! Are you two ready to head out for the day?” You ask, smiling at the two before you. Asra hopped to his feet and was already heading for the door. Muriel silently stood on his feet, the floor creaking beneath his weight.

With that, the three of you head out into the sun to learn some pottery!

...

“Oh! Three friends looking to learn the trade of pottery, eh? Come in, come in! Have a seat, have a seat!” A short man spoke, his thick mustache wiggled animatedly as he spoke. His voice was gruff and wheezy, yet he sounded so friendly and welcoming as everyone else you came into contact with at the festival.

“I’m glad y’all made it! With the heat out here in the desert, pottery is a very common trade! Seldom ya find anyone who doesn’t know how to make a few clay pots or so!” He laughed whole-heartedly leading your party in through his shop. Besides the path to walk about his place, there wasn’t a square inch of any surface that didn’t have some of his work on display.

“The names James! Been doing pottery since I could hold a spoon, I reckon! There’s not a memory in me without some clay involved! Ya came to the right guy, ya did!” He said proudly, puffing out his chest and putting his large hands on his hips.

You and Asra smiled fondly at James’ energy before introducing yourselves.

“And this is Muriel.” Asra said, smiling back at the gentle giant who awkwardly stood in the doorway avoiding eye contact.

“Nice to meet ya! As I said, everyone here knows a thing or two about clay! It’s yer lucky day Muriel, just us four in shop!” James noted the way Muriel’s body untensed at the realization, his smile widening.

“Welp, grab a seat will ya! Let’s get started!”

After a few hours waned of James bouncing around from topic to topic while he was supposed to be giving you all instruction, the three of you finally got the gist of what to do and got started. Unsurprisingly to Muriel, you and Asra seemed to have a natural affinity for clay making. His eyes stayed more on your clay vase than his own. Yours was tall and curvy, delicate and he imagined how nice it would look after painting it and setting some flowers inside.

Asra’s vase was cylindrical free of imperfections, looking as it it was done already and they only just started. Asra’s tongue was poked out of his mouth in focus, his brows furrowing in concentration as his vase spun and was molded by his touch. Muriel’s eyes lingered just a tad longer on Asra’s lips before your head poked into view.

“Muriel? You okay?” You asked, voice small but Muriel heard you loud and clear. He huffed before turning back to his own vase. It was wobbly and misshapen, limp and leaning off to one side like a withering plant.

“My hands are too big for this...” He mumbled, a defeated pout on his lips.

“No no, here let me help.” You said, leaving no room for protest, you kneeled in front of him, the potter’s wheel separated the both of you. Gently, you placed your hands on the outsides of Muriel’s, adding just a bit of pressure to keep his hand steady against the clay. You nodded up to him and a flustered Muriel hurriedly tapped his foot against the pedal to get the wheel spinning once again. A prominent blush formed on both of your faces at the touch of your hands.

“H-how do you want your vase to look?” You asked, keeping your eyes on clay as you anxiously chewed your cheek.

“Big enough for a few succulents. So, I guess, short... w-with a wide mouth and round please.” Muriel informed, and with that you used your thumbs to push his inside of the clay to form the mouth. You remained silent for a few minutes while you focused on forming his pot. He chose the perfect design and unbeknownst to him, his large hands were ideal for this idea.

By now, Asra’s vase was done and he was sliding the wire underneath to separate the clay from the wheel. He smiled at your moment with Muriel, James was tinkering away with his own brand-new pots that just came from the kiln. Seeing Asra’s finished work he hopped over to retrieve it and ready it for the kiln. Asra whispered a thank you before sliding over to your seat and getting to work on your vase. He could already see the look you were going for so while you helped Muriel, he helped you and finished your clay.

After about ten more minutes of forming, you were satisfied with the look. Sure, it had a few bumps and lumps but that was endearing to you. The moment you pulled your hands away Muriel missed your touch; you missed the feel of his hands under yours too but you were afraid of making him uncomfortable since you no longer had the excuse to hold him.

You chuckled shyly, wiping the concentration sweat from your forehead before turning to Asra to thank him for finishing your vase.

“Thanks, Asr–”

“Pffft HAHAHA!” Asra’s choked laughter cut through the air, you stared at him quizzically before turning to Muriel, only to see that his mop of hair hid his face from view but you could tell by the jump of his broad shoulders that he was silently laughing as well.

“What?” You asked with a small whine to your voice.

“You’ve just got, haha, you’ve just got some clay on your forehead now!” He said through peals of laughter, your face reddened a shade before you began to laugh a bit at yourself.

“Here.” Asra said, pulling a handkerchief out from his bag and wiping away at your forehead. He smiled fondly at you, his violet eyes crinkling with the smile. You blushed faintly at the proximity. His gentle touch at your forehead, how close he got so suddenly, his smile, and the way his eyes locked to yours. Asra was bewitching as always.

Muriel smiled fondly, his own cheeks dusting a rosy hue at the view. The two of you smiling and laughing together, the fact that two weeks ago he would have claimed to hate the sight and be jealous of you. But now, it was so much easier to just be honest with himself. He was happy to be here, and be a part of the moment. So much so he wasn’t surprised when Asra turned to him and used his handkerchief to dab away the concentration sweat that lingered on Muriel’s face. He nuzzled into the touch minutely, humming at the tenderness of Asra’s actions. The familiarity of his affections.

James smile at the three of you while he silently slipped away to make some tea for you all. James was back within the next few minutes with four steaming cups of jasmine tea and a hearty laugh spilling from his lips.

“Here ya go you crazy kids!” He announced, hopping through and setting the cups in front of you all. The four of you drank your tea while James shared story after story, your clay vases warming in the kiln all the while. An hour passed before James stood with a stretch, popping of his joints resounding through the cluttered space.

“Welp, yer vases won't be done til the morn. Come back then and you can pick up and paint em next door if ya like!” He offered, and with that, the three of you stood and waved goodbye.

“He was fun.” You commented playfully in a sing songy voice.

“He was energetic.” Muriel added, sounding a bit tired.

“Let’s go home and get some sleep, we ended up spending the whole day there!” Asra laughed, noting the way James chattered throughout the morning. You smiled wistfully, committing the day's events to memory. Never do you want to forget these times.

#the arcana #the arcana game #Muriel #asra #mc #something entirely new update #something entirely new #muriel x reader x asra