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if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi · 5 months

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kay maliksi ulit hehe || hmm modern au music rec is glue song

highschool sweet hearts sila tas nagkita ulit tas ikaw na bahala ate? (ate ka ba)

saranghe (napapagod ka na ba sakin)

((HAHAHA. Hala ka, ate ba ako? Hulaan nyo xD))

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi and Makisig. Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto. All involved characters are adults. Self insert? Might be. Char.

Genre: FLUFF

NON- #PhilMytCrea related AU.

Maliksi softly hums a tune that's been playing on his earphones as he started watering the potted chrysanthemums in front of his shop. It's been 3 months since he inherited the family's flower shop business because his Kuya Makisig wanted to pursue his career as a pilot instead. He didn't mind as he's more than happy to work at his own pace and without someone to boss him around.

He wouldn't admit it to others, but despite him being snarky and sarcastic most of the time, he's actually a gentle guy who loved peace and quiet- the only thing the plants and flowers on his shop absolutely gives everyday.

Maliksi was almost done watering the flowers when he remembered that he had some gypsophila delivered earlier. He smiled as he unloaded the pots and placed it gently in a sunny spot near the windows.

Gypsophila-

How nostalgic.

He can still remember how he begged his Kuya Makisig to teach him how to make flower arrangements- they both practiced using the shop's prettiest flowers- except their parents made him pay out of his allowance but he's already spent half of it on the local arcade earlier that week. In the end, their parents refused to let him keep the bouquet they made.

Maliksi sulked so much that his Kuya Makisig ended up sneaking him a gypsophila bouquet to school the next day- their parents never found out since gypsophila is usually just used as fillers on floral arrangements and it's quite cheap, yet his Kuya Makisig just knew how to make it look like it's one of the more expensive types of bouquet.

He can still remember how happy you looked and how red your face was when he handed you flowers on the last Valentine's Day of your highschool journey. You were the top of your class and Maliksi always hated how he always came second. All your highschool years were you two trying to see who will one up one another be it academics or extracurricular activities.

You were his rival- until you're not.

During your third year, you both were chosen to play as the famous Romeo and Juliet. All the late after school practice, the pancit canton chilimansi fueled all-nighters, and the endless phone calls with one another to have the perfect play also ended up with you two getting closer- not that you'll have it any other way.

After graduating, your family had to move back to the province due to your father's work. Maliksi ended up losing contact with you after a few months and that's it. Such fleeting first love.

He can only softly chuckle to himself as he reminisced those good old days.

"Excuse me...What are those called?"

Maliksi's attention snapped back to reality and at the short highschool boy who is now standing inside the shop, pointing at the flowers he's currently holding.

"Uhh.. these? Gypsophila."

The boy nervously looked around the shop once again, twiddling his thumbs before speaking.

"M...my Ate has a bouquet of that kind and she's got it preserved for a very long time...but I destroyed it accidentally when I was playing with my soccer ball in her room."

That's so cute and sweet.

Maliksi smiled, "I can recreate the bouquet for you. Do you remember what other flowers is in there?"

The boy shook his head before pointing at the flowers in Maliksi's hand "Nothing else. Just that." The boy started fumbling along his pockets before finding three crumpled 100 peso bills and some change. "I saved this from my allowance. Do you think you can do it with this?"

It was clearly not enough but Maliksi didn't mind since he also used to be a highschool student who relied on weekly allowance for stuff he wanted to buy. "Of course, buddy. Let me get your sister's bouquet started."

Maliksi prepared some cotton paper and pastel pink cellophane and started to masterfully arrange the flowers- making a very pretty bouquet that anyone is bound to swoon over. It is a skill he's developed while growing up and occasionally helping hie parents at the shop during holidays. Once he's done, the boy stared at the bouquet in awe, eyes twinkling in admiration.

"It's so pretty! Prettier than the one I accidentally destroyed."

Maliksi smirked at the kid before softly chuckling. "What? I don't think I ever made an ugly bouquet my whole life."

"I...How much do I need to add if I'll have it delivered at my Ate's work? I have a soccer game in 10 minutes."

"You know what, I'll make it free delivery if you promise me you'll win your soccer game, deal?"

"Deal!"

"My ate works at the bank. She'll be out at 5:30pm. If you see some woman with curly hair, around your age and is wearing a cute dress- that's her. Thank you so much!"

The boy left right away for his soccer game, leaving Maliksi with the bouquet. He then started closing the flower shop before grabbing his black hoodie and wearing it above his plain white shirt paired with his grey sweatpants- he's not really up to dress up right now since it'll be too much work when he'll just be delivering a bouquet to some stranger.

Three minutes before 5:30 - Maliksi was already outside the said workplace, leaning on his motorcycle with the bouquet in one hand, waiting for the boy's sister.

You glance at the huge wall clock, waiting for it to struck 5:30 so you can get out of this place already. Your youngest brother has a soccer game going on right now, yet you've been ignoring him for a whole week now after he sneaked into your room and accidentally broke some stuff.

Maybe I should buy him something and him on his game? But he might get embarrassed since he's at that angsty teenager pace...

You walked out of your work, eyes on the ground as you deliberately think if you should sneak on your brother's game to watch him-

"Excuse me, I believe this is for you- Y/n?!"

You quickly looked up to where the voice came from and hurriedly ran towards him with an embrace. "Maliksi!" He made sure to catch you in his arms while you both giggle like two kids as he spins you around before setting you down.

"Ah, it's been so long! I missed you!" You softly giggled before gently ruffling his hair like you used to do to him back in highschool.

Maliksi smiled, not bothering to hide the slight blush that has been forming in his cheeks while still holding you. "I missed you too. I never thought I'll see you here again. You told me yor family will be staying at the province for good."

"We're supposed to. But my brother wants to attend an engineering program for college so, here we are. Our parents stayed at the province though."

"Wait...your brother-"

"Jake, That chubby little kid who used to crawl all over our highschool projects!"

Maliksi's eyes widen in realization that the shy and goofy kid he was talking to earlier was the kid that often bothered him and Y/n's study time back in highschool.

"He's grown! I've met him earlier. He wants me to give you this, because apparently, you were mad that he accidentally ruined the original one."

You can feel your cheeks heating up as if you were caught red-handed to be cherishing that one bouquet you received from Maliksi back in high school very dearly that you went out of your way to preserve it after all these years.

Maliksi burst out chuckling at your flustered face, finding it as adorable as ever. "You could've just tried to look for me when you got back. I would've made you a bouquet for each Valentine's Day we missed since high school."

((I'LL MAKE A PART TWOOO! I'M SO SORRY, I'VE BEEN SICK AND MY BRAIN IS SO SABAW FROM ALL THE ANTIHISTAMINES I'VE BEEN TAKING))

ALSOOO- I'll melt if someone tells those lines to me helppp. AND LOOK AT THAT FACE----- IMAGINE THAT RUNNING TO HUG YOUUUU AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Art is by: @ask-emilz-de-philz , please support them! <3

#planet puto #philmytcrea #planetputo #rp tamawo #maliksithetamawo #rp maliksi #writers on tumblr #ianewrites

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realistically-shifting · 4 months

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My Luxury Apartment- General Script

I script this apartment complex in most of my DRs and my Waiting Room. Features like the room style change based on what reality the script is for, but the rest generally stays the same. This is the complex I shifted to the first time, all the things I would’ve enjoyed if I stayed longer.

Exterior: At the back of the complex, there’s a playground with equipment for adults too. The playground equipment can handle adult bodies using it.

Basement level: At the basement level, there are storage lockers for the tenants of the apartment, a parking garage, a shop, and a convenience store. The convenience store carries a brand of microwave dinners that has a wide variety of options, and it includes many cultural dishes from various cultures. For example, one of the frozen dinner sets includes collard greens cooked with smoked ham hocks and black eyes peas, fried catfish, baked mac and cheese, and a little cup of banana pudding or candied yams. The store sells other easy to make food items, such as roux cubes for curry and egusi stew. There is also a laundromat down there, for residents that don’t have personal machines.

First floor: The first floor has the lobby of the apartment building, an indoor pool and hot tub for the residents and their guests, and a hot pot restaurant. Residents get a discount at the restaurant, but it’s open to the public. It also has a gym that holds exercise, dance, and yoga classes.

Second floor: There’s a small doctor’s clinic on this floor, staffed by several nurses, two pediatricians, a mental health counselor, and a few physicians. Here, residents (and our guests) can receive regular checkups, emergency aid, help with medical treatments such as dialysis, etc. Attached to the clinic is a small pharmacy where you can get cold medicines, common emergency medicines like epipens and inhalers, etc. There’s also a daycare on the other side of the building, and between them is the complex spa. The spa has masseurs trained in neuromuscular massage therapy.

Third floor: A work space with computers for public use, recreational room that doubles as a movie theater with a larger screen, and an additional rec room with video game consoles, VR gaming space, and a small cafe. The first rec room is popular with older residents, while the second is more popular with the teenage residents.

Penthouse: My penthouse apartment also has a balcony with seating, two guest bedrooms each with its own 3/4 bathroom, and a walk-in storage closet.

Rooftop: On top of the apartment complex is a community garden and an observatory. There are gardeners that maintain most of the plots, but private plots must be privately managed.

Safety features: Along with normal safety features, all the windows and doors on the first and second floor, plus parking garage, have metal shutters that can be lowered during emergencies. The entire building also has an advanced fire suppression system, air purifiers, and an extensive bunker below the parking garage. Each apartment, or at least the penthouses, have security doors (thick wooden doors with metal plates in the middle and higher quality locks). All the safety features have their own failsafes.

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tjkat · 3 months

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Class of '09

First off to answer the question everyone seems to have, Class of '09 and Class of '09 - The Re-Up are two different games. The Re-Up isn't a remaster, nor is it a sequel in the strict sense. It's more like an expansion. The first game starts you at the beginning of Nicole's second year of high school and some story routes continue all the way until graduation, others do not. The Re-Up story routes start at the beginning of Nicole's third year.

TL;DR You're supposed to play both games, not one or the other.

Anywho, I decided to play Class of '09 on a lark and didn't turn it off until I'd gotten every ending and taken every story route. To be fair, it only took 5 hours and I've seen people say they've done it in 3. Right from the first choice they give you I was hooked. TBH, the game is really funny, which probably says more about me that I would like. I think to call the humour irreverent might be putting it mildly.

But one thing that did bug me just a little was the tonal shift between the original game and the Re-Up. Specifically with Nicole and Jecka's characters. The first game starts with Nicole telling you she's a sociopath. And for the first game she is largely apathetic to everything around her. She really doesn't care about anything going on around her, or how her actions affect others. But you never get the feeling that she's acting maliciously; it seems more like she's trying to find a way to feel SOMETHING, anything at all. But in the Re-Up, she is very much acting maliciously. She will go out of her way to make others miserable. It's even brought up on a couple routes where she's called out for putting in way, way more effort to get back at a teacher for assigning her work than it would for her to just do the work that was assigned. I mean, maybe this is in character for her? Maybe they only time she feels anything is when she's being a heinous bitch?

Jecka changes a lot between the two games too. In the first game I got the impression she's kind of on the same level as Nicole when it comes to school. She complains about having to go to class, but usually goes along with Nicole with very little persuasion. That's actually pretty much her character in the first game - points out that what Nicole is planning to do is dumb/bad/pointless, then inevitably going along with her anyway with virtually no convincing. In the Re-Up, you see she's actually kind of a serious student. When she tells Nicole she has to go to class she… goes to class. She's planning on going to college, and knows she can't behave like Nicole if she wants to get there. This change in her personality extends to how she deals with Nicole's schemes too. When Nicole crosses a line, she nopes out no matter how much Nicole begs. Again, this might be in character. She may have realized that Nicole is a bad influence on her and taken steps to get back on track.

Also, between the two games the girls went from casual recreational drug use to having a serious drug problem. In fact almost all the student seem to have a serious drug problem in the Re-Up.

I'm also a little sad that they never played into the Miss Lynn x Nicole's Mom thing a bit more. It didn't even spawn any fan art! But, it could work, right? I got the impression that Nicole didn't have anything against Miss Lynn personally - she actually seems to think Miss Lynn is hot - but rather resents her position of authority. And it's the position she resents, not the person in it; there even seemed to be a bit of begrudging respect there. Outside the school setting you'd think they'd get along.

PS. There are two different possible scenes at the start of the Re-Up. Either Nicole just shows up at school and talks to Jecka, or Nicole is in the girls' change room trying to tie a rope to hang herself with. Which scene you get is random (but I think the hanging one is rarer?), so just exit and restart until you get the one you want.

#video games #visual novel #nicole #jecka #class of 09 #class of 09 the re up

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simmerandwrite · 2 years

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make believe days | eddie munson x reader

Pairing: Eddie Munson x drama club president!reader

Summary: Without a doubt, Eddie Munson was the most frustrating human in your goddamn life. But after his dumb board game club helps out with the final drama club production, you get a change in perspective.

Wordcount: 4.7k

Warnings: recreational drug use mentioned

Notes: spoiler free! This would take place a month or so before S4 begins. a lil self indulgent fic for the drama kids out there. In my brain, The Hellfire Club sets up in the drama room every week (but they used the full stage for their big event in 4.01, of course). First crack at Eddie, no beta, barely proofread, all mistakes are my own. This is my side blog for writing, you can find my regular blog @simmerandcry. Thank you for reading!

---

Without a doubt, Eddie Munson was the most frustrating human in your goddamn life. This man wasn’t even your friend - but you had the distinct displeasure of dealing with him nearly every day and you were at the end of your rope.

The drama club had been working endless nights and weekends, squeezing in rehearsals after school and in free period and every second lunch hour and Eddie Munson’s silly little board game club was this close to ruining it all.

First, there had been the third world war between you and the Hellfire Club king himself, mediated by Mr. Poole. Over which group got Friday nights in the drama room. Eventually, a truce and fair schedule had been drawn for each extra curricular.

Another day, you had come into the drama room early Monday morning - relieved after the success of the Holiday Festival. And your beautiful snowman sculpture had been decapitated, with an apologetic note scrawled on his discarded head about how they were going to fix it ASAP. The volcanic eruption Eddie Munson faced from you was worthy of its own adventure novel.

(He apologized profusely, explaining about the ‘heat of the moment’ and ‘an epic final battle to defeat’ some blah blah blah monster. You did not care.)

And now! You had walked into the room over lunch, lugging your sewing kit to finish off some hemming on the Queen of Heart’s dress, only to find a discarded bottle of rootbeer tipped over, soiling a pile of white tunics required for the card costumes.

Ditching your supplies and brown bag lunch, you grabbed the bottle and the top most garment and rushed to the cafeteria.

You knew that being president of the drama club wasn’t the height of popularity when it came to high school. The only thing saving the theater kids from being complete losers was the fact that being involved gave participants some approved time away from the class when the productions were live and sometimes it crossed over as part of an art credit, too. But you knew the stereotypes when you joined. Frankly, you didn’t care much about your reputation when it came to school.

You were just waiting to graduate and move to New York.

But that didn’t mean your last semester and last ever production in the Hawkins High School auditorium didn’t mean anything to you. In fact, that made it mean so much more. You were directing the show, with support from both Mr. Poole and the art teacher Ms. Baxter, and acting as the Red Queen, on top of designing posters and helping with sets and costumes. You and the rest of the club had poured your lives into this final show and you were dedicated to making sure it all went off without a hitch.

If there was one other thing you were certain of, you knew that being in the drama club was almost equally as embarrassing as being a member of The Hellfire Club. After basketball, football and cheerleading, most school teams fell further down the ladder. But being near the bottom? It wasn’t always easy. With both the drama club and The Hellfire Club sharing a similar social status, it should have meant some sort of understanding and respect, but Eddie Munson was ignorant to that, apparently.

With the sleeves of your oversized red blazer shoved over your elbows and your scuffed black converse slapping the tile floor, you headed into the cafeteria and set your targets on the table near the far windows - the one where Eddie was holding court with his round table of idiots.

“But our next mission, my friends, will take our journey even further. If you think we’re in the clear from the -”

“Munson!” You planted your feet beside his chair at the end of the table, reaching out to grab his shoulder and draw his attention. Although, given how the chatter at the table had already come to a halt, you had a feeling your piercing cry was enough of a distraction. “What the hell?”

“Well, hello to you too, Madam President.” The coy smirk on Eddie’s face vanished when he caught your scowl. “How are you already wound up about something? It’s barely noon and-”

“We spent hours on these costumes last week and your merry band of dorks managed to ruin them in one fell swoop.” You shoved the bottle of rootbeer at his chest and dropped the stained white tunic onto the table, covering his plastic tray. “The stupid Shared Room Agreement you made me sign specifically says no food or drink is to come anywhere near our stuff!”

Eddie narrowed his eyes for a brief moment, glancing from you to the soda bottle then to the costume. He sucked in a breath. “Gareth! Come on, dude. I made it very clear that all snack remnants are to disappear to save from this.” He jerked his thumb towards you, ignoring your huff and extending the bottle towards his team mate. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Uh,” Gareth’s face scrunched up, holding back his laughter while the rest of the table tried to keep their faces straight too. “My bad?”

“Your bad?” You sucked in a hard breath and pivoted to look at Gareth.

Gareth, who you’ve technically known since elementary school and had probably still had a habit of burping the alphabet. Who sat two desk rows behind you in ninth grade science and nearly got kicked out of class for puppeteering his frog that was meant to be dissected. Gareth. His head was on the chopping block after Munson.

With a sharp inhale, you steadied yourself again and looked back to Eddie once more. “That’s it. I’m going to Mr. Poole. Your club is finding a new home.”

You were stomping away just as quickly as you had arrived, ignoring the shouts coming from Eddie as he trailed behind you.

Just as you were raising your hand up to knock on Mr. Poole’s door, feeling a tiny bit guilty about interrupting his lunch (the man avoided the faculty lounge in the lunch hour, enjoying his sandwich alone with a book), Eddie’s hand had grabbed onto your wrist.

“Wait, wait.”

You let out a quiet sigh as he released your arm. “Don’t test me, Munson.” You tilted your head to catch his stare. God, you were a good actress. Because damnit if Eddie Munson didn’t have the most beautiful, apologetic doe eyes.

Hold your ground, dummy.

“Listen, the drama room has become our playground for fantasy. Can’t we come to an agreement here?” Eddie pressed his shoulders back and pouted. “Please. Gareth already lost us our privileges in the music room and -”

“Let me guess, he left a bag of Bugles inside someone’s bugle.”

Eddie smirked. “No, it was a noise complaint.”

“Shocking.” You controlled your bite and slid your tongue across your lips, head shaking side to side. “I’m tired of all this, okay? That room is our sanctuary and your round table of jesters has ruined our peace for the final time.”

“Listen, staining your little costumes isn’t the end of the world. You just need some bleach, I have a lot of methods for getting..” He paused to find his words. “..substances out of things.”

“Gross.”

“Like red wine and blood, sweetheart. Don’t be so dramatic.”

You hissed out his name, face scrunched up in frustration. “Listen, I was okay with the candles - although that is definitely a fire hazard. And I even let you have our old throne from the retired set pieces to do what you wanted with. But when your little board game-”

“D&D is not a board game. You wound me.”

“Whatever, Munson! Your reckless friend Gareth has ruined it for you!”

Apparently your own volume was worthy of a noise complaint now. Because before you could step back, the door at your side was opening and there stood Mr. Poole, brushing crumbs off his thighs as he looked between you and Eddie.

Your teacher let out his own dramatic sigh. “What happened now, Mr. Munson?”

You shot a glance towards Eddie once more, as you took a deep breath before explaining the entire situation. And that’s when you caught it - a look you had never seen from your nemesis Eddie Munson before.

His eyes were pleading without explanation - a silent request that you might choose not to throw him directly into the fire. That you might just hear him out once more, that the drama room could continue to serve you both. And despite all the rage in the pit of your stomach, the weight of the world you had put on your own shoulders, the level you held yourself and the amatuer production up to… despite all of that, the desperation in Eddie Munson’s eyes caused something to shift in you.

Instead of stoking the flames, it seemed to suffocate them to embers.

When Mr. Poole spoke your name - repeated it, in fact, you turned your attention to him. “Oh, uhm. Nothing happened, sir. Sorry to interrupt your ham on rye.. I just wanted to let you know that Eddie’s club has graciously decided to help backstage the night of the performance, so there is no reason to harass your sophomore English class for me. Now I have all the willing volunteers I need.” Slowly, you turned your head towards Eddie. “Isn’t that right, Eddie?”

You watched as Eddie’s jaw carefully clenched. Behind his rapidly blinking eyes - which, God, had those always been hidden behind such long eyelashes? - he was clearly making a decision. Then he stood taller, somehow, and flared out his fingers before neatly tugging on his vest. “Yes, right. That is.. Right. You are looking at the leader of the stage crew.”

---

Eddie hated to admit it but your tenacity was admirable. Annoying and cunning, sure, but damnit if he didn’t respect how dedicated you were to your craft.

Honestly, a lot of your traits were just as excellent - like how you could command a room, how your smile could drop from charming to devilish in the blink of an eye. Not that… not that Eddie paid a particular amount of attention to your smile and how the muscles on your face behaved.

No, no. Your smile was nothing but a distraction, a tool used to hypnotize educational supervisors while you conned an innocent man in the hallway. Because Eddie was not the person you seemed to think he was - menacing, conniving, heartless, and messy. No, he was just passionate.

Passionate about his friends and his club and his music. And the journey The Hellfire Club had been going on this year had been Tolkien level of adventure. The beasts were bigger, the missions heavier, the reaped rewards even greater. And he couldn’t let anything jeaporize the ending that was approaching, which means they could not lose their home. The drama room was his safe haven too and if he had to lug around oversized chess pieces for your silly little production for one night to appease the Drama Queen herself, to ensure they didn’t lose their playing space, whatever. He could give up one night.

What he didn’t expect was the annoying chorus of whines coming from his club members.

“Can you explain to us again why we have to spend our night here if Gareth was the rootbeer bandit?” Mike Wheeler, ever the tall and wise, lamented as he pushed a spotlight across the floor. “Shouldn’t he be doing his own community service?”

Dustin Henderson, ever the little shithead (and truthfully Eddie’s favourite, though he’d never admit it out loud), chimed in as he unraveled an extension cord. “Oh. Isn’t it obvious? Eddie loves whatshername.”

“Boys, we are mere mortals in the daylight.” Eddie walked towards them, lending yet another hand to push the heavy lighting fixture into place. “And sometimes, we need to pay our dues. Besides, Gareth’s doing his own repentance.”

Dustin’s commentary had been loud enough that Eddie certainly heard it before he approached to assist them. But it felt easier to pretend he hadn’t. First, because arguing with Henderson could be both grating and gratifying, but he couldn’t always find the right words. And second, that annoying little freshman wasn’t really wrong.

Love was a complicated word, of course. Eddie threw it around without caution usually. Because damnit, he loved his guitar. And he loved the way playing it made him feel, how it helped him escape. He loved fresh strawberry jelly, like his mum used to make in their tiny little kitchen. He knew what love was.

But did he love you? Doubtful.

Truthfully, Eddie wasn’t new to your orbit. You had been fighting over the drama room exclusively since your reign as president had started two years ago. But before that, you still existed in his life. Maybe you didn’t remember him and his recollection of you was foggy at best, but you had grown up on the same street. A long time ago, in the before times of Eddie’s life. Before his mom died, before he moved in with his uncle, before his lunchbox was filled with an assortment of illegal substances for sale, before life sort of cracked beneath his feet.

It was your brother, actually, who Eddie had known best. They had played knights together in the treeline every day after getting off the bus and sometimes you’d trail along, watching carefully or joining in to act as their damsel in distress. You’d ask questions about the story and your brother used to quickly dismiss you, that it wasn’t a story. It was just playing, it was just fighting, it was just dreaming.

Clearly that didn’t stop you from your own dreaming. Cause look at you now. Making an entire Wonderland come to life in your time between classes. Even when most people didn’t care about the drama club or their performances, you carried on. You weathered the storm of rolled eyes and name calling. You persevered, like you had something to prove.

Eddie switched school districts when he moved to the trailer park and although your paths were crossing again at Hawkins High, the leftover memories of your shared past didn’t matter much. But that didn’t stop him from looking forward to arguing with the girl who liked to daydream and play make believe, who liked to command the room and make her ideas come to life.

Yeah, it definitely couldn’t be love. But Eddie Munson certainly let you live in his mind more often than he liked to admit.

---

“That was quite the speech, Madam President.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned in the kitchen, finding a grinning Eddie leaning against the countertop, a fresh plastic cup of beer in his hand. It was the right thing to do - inviting your reluctant laborers to the cast party. Because it was for the crew too and they had worked hard.

The parties weren’t always this raucous, but seeing as there were half a dozen other seniors in the club who were mourning their final school performance, it seemed appropriate to escalate the entire event. What you hadn’t anticipated was Kelly Campbell, the wicked talented sophomore who had stolen the show as Alice, volunteering her house as the location. Once word got out from her cheerleader sister Monica about the event, the invitations had gotten a bit out of control.

But whatever, you couldn’t let yourself care about it. The living room had overflowed with people hanging on your every word as you celebrated the play, standing on the coffee table and delivering your greatest farewell, sending out personal thank you notes to everyone for tolerating how insane and passionate you had been all year.

You relished because you knew it would all be over soon. But that’s what you had been waiting for, right? To let this chapter close so you could start again, somewhere else? Somewhere new? Somewhere far away from small town politics and annoying classmates and irritable, long haired, doe-eyed dungeon masters?

“I mean it.” Eddie continued as you scanned his face, searching for a crack in his honesty. “I’m glad I got to see the show.”

“Got to see the show… had to move sets for the show…” You smirked and tipped your own cup up towards your mouth. “Same thing, I guess.” Your gratitude for The Hellfire Club certainly outweighed your annoyance now. The little sheep had been especially helpful with the lights and Gareth even got a laugh when you made him play one of the pawns in the garden scene. You’d be hard pressed to say it out loud, but the show might not have gone on without the enemy and his team coming to your aid.

And you had successfully bleached the soiled costumes, too.

With a deep breath, you took a small step towards him and extended your hand to knock your cups together. “I’m not sure I expressed my gratitude to you yet, Eddie. All walls down, white flag raised - this is serious. Thank you.”

“Wow.” His smirk grew and his eyebrows shot up, hiding behind his shaggy brown bangs. “How difficult was that for you to say out loud? Have you been practicing all day?”

“All week, even.” Oh god, your wall had entirely dismantled itself apparently. Because when you met Eddie’s gaze again, you could have sworn your heart flip flopped a handful of times. With another deep breath and second of courage, you kept going. Because, hey, this was all going to be over soon right? Your new life awaits. So why not just… “Hey - did you bring your lunch box of tricks with you tonight?”

You watched as he studied you, as you did him. His posture tightened for a brief second, as something flashed across his face. He nodded once. “My inventory overflows with items, my drama queen.”

My drama queen.

You finished off your beer and motioned your head to the staircase.

---

Eddie would have wound up at this party anyway. He made the rounds every Friday night, popping into these little get-togethers and making all the transactions and trades he needed to call it a successful evening. But a personal invitation to one of these parties wasn’t usually something that happened.

Somehow he couldn’t resist this time. Especially when you bounded off stage after the final curtain call and almost ran him over before getting out of your costume.

‘Not sure what the curfew is for the kids but it’s a cast and crew party. Hope to see you there, Munson.’

What was it about your attitude that made him both incredibly annoyed and attracted to you at the same time?

He couldn’t let himself think too hard about that, because he needed to stay present. Right here in the present, where he was following you up the stairs. Right behind your - no, no. He stopped himself. Was it appropriate to objectify someone of such high political ranking? Even if your acid wash jeans hugged your waist perfectly. Even if he was dying to see you wearing just that deep purple corset, instead of hiding it behind that boxy blazer. Even if he wanted to kiss that leftover stage lipstick right off your -

“This way!”

Get it together, Munson. With a straight head, he turned down the hall the same way you did. And when you pushed into a bedroom door, loudly announcing your entrance - he couldn’t stop himself from applauding the way you strode right past the couple making out to climb through the far window instead.

And when you extended your hand back towards him, to help him climb through too, Jesus - Eddie felt like he had crossed over to a brand new reality.

“Should we check on that dude? Seems like she might be stealing all the air from his lungs..” Eddie’s mouth provided commentary without even thinking, slowing down his pace as you led him towards a small part where the roof met a parallel peak. At the right angle, you could both sit - side by side, without risk of falling or really being discovered.

It was strangely intimate. Surely you could have just gone to the basement with the rest of the stoners or hidden out in the backyard. But here you both were, high above the ground, just a tiny bit closer to the universe above.

“Maya works as a lifeguard in the summer. She’s good at mouth to mouth, I know from experience,” you replied to Eddie with a smirk, carefully extending your legs out as you sat and scooching to invite him to join you. “He’ll be okay.”

Eddie fiddled with the pockets of his vest once he was situated, then slowly his head turned. There was that smirk again. “You’ve kissed her?” His thumb pointed back in the direction they had journeyed, blinking a lot more than necessary as he brain tried to compute.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it,” you teased, nudging your elbow gently into his side. “The whole drama club sort of..” You trailed off, as if these weren’t your secrets to share. “We can be a very cuddly group.”

Eddie could see the mischievous shine in your eye. He let out a breath as his jaw moved side to side. Did his heart rate just pick up? Focus, focus.

“So, what’ll it be?” Eddie retrieved a small plastic bag from his pocket, laying it out flat in his hand. “I think I have a few fancy pills out in the van, too, if you want to-”

“Oh no, just pot. Something classic, slow and smooth.” You were quick to reply, drawing a very real cautious boundary that you hoped he recognized. “Safe.”

He opted for the most traditional strain in his pre-rolled set up, with an understanding nod and a wave of his hand to dismiss any of his other suggestions. “You got it.”

The entire set up was a bit awkward, clumsy even. Once his zippo finally stopped acting up and the joint was at his lips, trading it back and forth with you became an easy pattern. You leaned back eventually, declining any additional inhales and stared up towards the sky. Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what happened now so he just, well, did the same as you. His back hit the shingled roof and his eyes travelled upward.

He closed his eyes. “So, you happy?”

“I dunno if my brain is strong enough for a question so heavy,” you mumbled back.

“I meant with the play, how it all turned out. When our band performs, I always look back at our shows and nitpick so I just wonder if you do the same about your ..whole thing.”

“Oh. Well, that makes more sense now, doesn’t it?” Did you just giggle? Good lord. This was his regular stuff?. “Yeah, I think it was a nice way to finish off my final act at Hawkins High School.” It felt so real saying that out loud but you were staring your future in the face. Of course it was going to feel scary. “I’m happy with it, yeah. Sure.”

“Even though my.. what was the phrase you coined - my ‘round table of jesters’ - even though my jesters were involved?”

“Yes, you and the jesters made a big difference, even.”

“Really? Even though you can’t stand me?”

“When did I ever say that?”

“The words never left your mouth,” he choked out a laugh. “But oh, I can tell. Your energy is alarmingly potent with anger when I’m in your zone. You radiate irritation.”

You pushed yourself to sit up, turning to look at him. “I do not radiate irritation.”

“She says with a scowl on her face,” he smiled, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“How do you know I’m scowling? Your eyes are still closed,” you shoot back, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Radiate irritation. You make me sound nuclear or something.”

He laughed harder now. “You are nuclear, baby.”

You can’t help but laugh along with him now. You figured it was time to let it all go. “Sorry if I’ve been a nuclear bitch all semester, Eddie.” The tingles across your skin grew even stronger as the weed caught up to your mind. You tried to resist it but you laid back down again, head tipped to the side to look at him.

Eddie’s face has already turned to look at you, eyes wide, searching. “You’ve come so far from your damsel in distress days.”

“Oh my god!” Your eyes lit up at his commentary. “You do remember me from the old neighbourhood. I wasn’t sure - here I thought we were too grown up to talk about those old make believe days.”

“You’re the president of the drama club and I’m a dungeon master. We never left the make believe days, my lady.”

You couldn’t pinpoint where the affectionate terms of endearment had started but for some reason, you didn’t want to ask. You didn’t want it to stop. Because damnit, there you were, falling down into Eddie Munson’s eyes in the moonlight.

“And where did my brother in arms end up? I know he graduated on time, unlike myself.”

“My brother and his Camaro headed east. He’s up in Brooklyn now, very broke but living the dream, so he says.” You lifted your hands up above your face, stretching your fingertips up to connect the faded stars above. “He’s very excited for me to move in and cut his rent payments in half.”

“You’re going to New York?”

“As soon as I get that dumb piece of paper in my hand, I’m out of here.” You pointed a single finger up towards the sky. “Goodbye Hawkins, hello… to future.”

“Hello to future?” Eddie laughed again. “The drama queen, master of all linguistics.”

You laughed too, turning and burying your face into his shoulder. Wait. Had you two always been this close - side by side? Was it cold all of a sudden? “Sorry, sorry. Drama club.. We’re cuddly.”

“Right, right. Well, I lugged around all those stupid sets for you - am I part of the club now?” The register of his voice sounded lower, smoother,

Your hand dropped down and landed on his chest, that determined pointer finger finding a button hole to inspect. “Absolutely not. Well, not officially. You aren’t in the yearbook photo.” You peeked upwards to look at him. He was staring again. “Unofficially, yes. Jester of the drama club, as declared by the queen herself.”

“An honour, my queen.”

Your conversation carried on and off. You stayed tucked right into Eddie’s side as he asked you more questions about your plans for New York. He said the big city was on his list too, if he could make it out. A very real part of you knew he would make it out and you tried not to overthink about that. Maybe you were nothing but a tiny footnote in Eddie Munson’s big life but at that moment in time, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He mumbled against the shell of your ear. “Well, what do we do now?”

You were sprawled across his chest, the thump thump thumping of his heart keeping you awake. “Are you asking in a real life, what-about-the-future kind of way or a very non-serious, make believe sort of way?”

“I’m asking in whatever way inspires your best answer, sweetheart.”

“In a real life sort of way, what happens next is we crawl back inside and part ways with a handshake. But in the make believe side of this story, we stay right here and talk about our dreams and eventually I get the courage to slam my lips against yours...”

Well below you both, the party was still in full swing. You could be down there, making some final memories with your stage comrades and trading plans for the summer. Or, you could stay right where you were - tucked into Eddie Munson’s side, hot breath on your neck.

His hand trailed down your side, underneath the fabric of your blazer. You felt the cool metal of his rings against the sliver of skin above your waistline. You held your breath when he opened his mouth to reply. “I definitely prefer the make believe sort of way.”

You didn’t know what the final scene was going to look like between you and Eddie, but for now, under the promise of nothing and beneath the safety of the night sky, you stayed. Because without a doubt, Eddie Munson was the most surprising person in your life.

---

Any feedback is appreciated!! Thank you so much for reading!!! If you see me out in the wild, I’m @simmerandcry

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #st fanfic #eddie munson fandom #joseph quinn

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xtruss · 1 year

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Heywood on the family boat Wavewalker, near Vanuatu in the South Pacific, 1987. Photograph: Courtesy of Suzanne Heywood

‘Dad Said: We’re Going To Follow Captain Cook’: How An Endless Round-The-World Voyage Stole My Childhood

In 1976, Suzanne Heywood’s Father Decided to Take the Family on a Three-Year Sailing ‘Adventure’ – and Then Just Kept Going. It was a Journey into Fear, Isolation and Danger …

— By Suzanne Heywood | March 25th, 2023 | The Guardian USA

When we lived in England my days had a familiar rhythm. Each morning, my mother flung open the curtains in my room, and I tugged my school jumper over my head and pulled on my skirt before tumbling downstairs to eat cereal with my younger brother Jon. After school, we’d play on the swing in our garden, or crouch at the far end of the stream to watch dragonflies hovering above the gold-green surface.

I was used to this rhythm; I liked it and thought it would never change. Until one morning over breakfast, my father announced that we were going to sail around the world.

I paused, a spoonful of cornflakes halfway to my mouth.

“We’re going to follow Captain Cook,” Dad said. “After all, we share the captain’s surname, so who better to do it?” He picked up his cigarette and leaned back in his seat.

“Are you joking?” I asked.

Next to me, Jon watched Dad, his lips parted.

“Not at all,” said my father, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “I’m deadly serious.”

“But why?”

“Well, someone needs to mark the 200th anniversary of Cook’s third voyage, don’t they?” he said, raising his eyebrows at my mother.

“Of course they do, Gordon,” said Mum, returning his smile.

“I’ve told you kids about the captain,” said Dad, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. “He was an incredible man. The people who were going to recreate his first and second voyages didn’t get their act together in time, so this is the last opportunity.”

“How long will we be gone?” I asked.

“Three years. By the time we get back, you’ll have seen more places than most people will visit in a lifetime. We’ll sail down to South America, then cross the Atlantic Ocean to South Africa and Australia. From there, it’s on to Hawaii and Russia.”

The clock was ticking on the wall. I looked out of the window at the empty swing. Dad had taken us sailing before, but this was different.

One evening later that summer, Dad announced that he’d found a boat. A few weeks afterwards, we went down to the Isle of Wight to inspect his find. He marched ahead at the boatyard. “You’re going to love her, I know you will,” he said, and I looked up to see an enormous boat with a long, curved bow, two masts and a raised deck at the stern.

The interior was unfinished, but bunks and cupboards were already taking shape, half-formed in the gloom.

After a while, I went up on to the aft deck to sit next to my father in the cockpit, watching him attach a compass to the binnacle, the wooden instrument stand in front of the ship’s wheel. “She’s called Wavewalker,” he said. “We were lucky – I was able to buy her because the man who was building her ran out of money.”

“Wavewalker,” I said, exploring the edges of the word. This boat would walk us over the waves, carrying us around the world and back again.

“But you’re so normal,” people often say when they find out about my childhood. And in some ways, I am. But, even if it’s not visible, my experience of spending a decade sailing 47,000 nautical miles on Wavewalker, equivalent to circumnavigating the globe twice, shaped who I am today.

The family waving goodbye, Plymouth, 1976. Photograph: Courtesy of Suzanne Heywood

I started thinking again about my past when my children were old enough to ask me about it. Did Dad really sail around the world because he wanted to honour Captain Cook? Why didn’t my parents, middle class and well educated themselves, worry about their children’s education or social isolation? Why was my relationship with my mother so difficult, particularly during my teenage years, and why didn’t my father try to help, when he must have seen how miserable I was?

My parents always claimed our time on Wavewalker was wonderful and told me I’d had a privileged upbringing. But this oft-repeated mantra conceals a much darker story. What I found, when I mustered enough courage to look back, was that many parts of my childhood were worse than I’d been willing to admit.

When I set sail from England with my parents, brother and three crew members in the summer of 1976, I was seven and thought the trip was going to be like an extended, exciting summer holiday. Once we’d settled into our ocean routines, Mum began giving Jon and me some schoolwork to do in the mornings, usually a maths or English worksheet. It was convenient that we were only a year apart in age, she said, since it meant she could teach us together. When I asked about other subjects, such as history, art or science, she said she wasn’t going to bother with those – if we were good at maths and English, everything else would sort itself out. Anyway, our voyage was like a massive geography field trip.

One day, about a week after leaving Gran Canaria, and a month after leaving England, a shadow appeared above the ocean’s southern rim. “I think it’s Ilha de Santo Antão in the Cape Verde islands,” said Dad, “which means we’re about 400 miles off the most westerly tip of Africa and halfway to Rio.”

Heywood with her parents Mary and Gordon and brother Jon. Photograph: Courtesy of Suzanne Heywood

The shadow darkened and gained substance, becoming a craggy rock lurking under a cloud, while the ocean filled with writhing jellyfish. The heat built until, one day, the breeze rotated through every direction and disappeared. “We’ve hit the doldrums,” said Dad when I went to stand beside him on the deck, gazing out at an ocean of thick honey. “They happen where the north and south trade winds meet. But that’s supposed to be a hundred miles south of here.”

We sat sweating under a blue bowl of sky for several days after that, each breath a gasp of heat that scorched the lungs. When the sun was up, I danced across the parched deck, searching for patches of shade, while Dad made a saltwater shower from a bucket punctured with holes that he hung in the rigging. At night, I slept on deck to escape the stifling air below, lying on my sleeping bag, and reaching up to grasp handfuls of the stars peppering the Milky Way.

After the wind returned, we saw a passenger ship ploughing its way towards us from South America. It came so close that I could see the people crowding its balconies and rails to wave, and when it swept past I saw its name etched on the stern: Brazilla.

“I wish we’d asked them for food,” I said, watching it go.

Dad laughed. “Don’t be silly.”

“There’s no fresh fruit left,” I said, giving him my sad look. “And I hate salt tablets.”

Salt was taking over my life. White tidemarks of it bloomed on my skin; my clothes and sleeping bag were sticky with it; and now I had to eat it as well, to stave off dehydration.

An artist’s impression of the interior of Wavewalker. Illustration: Camilla Ashforth

“Do you want to try some ship’s biscuits?” asked Dad, and when I nodded, he showed me where he’d hidden the tins under the step outside the main head, the name for the ship’s toilet.

“Do they have raisins in them?” I asked.

He shook his head and peered at my biscuit. “Oh, don’t worry about those: they’re only weevils. Tap it sharply on the table, and most of them will fall out and crawl away. The rest will give you useful protein.”

From South America, we sailed on to apartheid South Africa. We then set off across the notorious southern Indian Ocean towards Australia, this time with two inexperienced crew members on board, as my father had by then decided that he preferred to teach people how to sail himself. My father was a hero to me and, it seemed, to everyone else; and my mother was his glamorous, if somewhat unwilling, and unmaternal, accomplice.

On the first day of the new year, when we were partway across the Indian Ocean, I opened my eyes to a world I wanted to leave. I wanted to go home. I dragged myself from my bunk, taking care to avoid being hurled back against it when the boat veered the other way. The main cabin was deserted, so I huddled by the table, holding Teddy, my small brown bear, and wondered if anyone else was hungry. When my father came down, I wedged Teddy into the bookcase and followed him into the chartroom.

“How is it up there, Dad?” I asked. “Are the waves getting any better?”

He looked at me, his face expressionless. “No. They’re worse. They’re now over 50ft high. And the wind has changed direction to blow at storm force straight from the south pole.”

“Oh.” The hairs prickled on my neck.

He turned to lean over his chart. “It’s not good,” he said. He spoke the words quietly, as if to himself. Wavewalker’s quivering moments at the summit of each wave had become longer, and her plunges forward more extreme. Everything felt wet: my skin, my clothes, my hair, the floor and every surface I touched.

My fear felt physical – a cold lump I carried in my stomach. Every so often, if the wind wailed or our movement down a wave was particularly steep, my heart pounded and my legs felt weak.

Jon had joined me at the table by the time Mum struggled down the ladder in her oilskins several hours later. “Put on your lifejackets,” she said. “We’re going too fast. We must be prepared.”

I didn’t ask how a lifejacket would help us survive in an ocean full of gigantic, icy waves, and neither did Jon. There was little point in arguing, and, anyway, Mum was already halfway back up into the cockpit. When she returned later, Jon and I were sitting trussed up in our jackets by the table.

“Sue, come and help me make some food,” said Mum. “I need a can of corned beef.”

I nodded, gripping the countertop rail with one hand while unlatching a cupboard door with the other. The cabin tipped backwards. Wavewalker was climbing another watery mountain. This time the pause was endless. It felt as if time had been suspended, leaving us balanced on the head of a monstrous wave.

There was an explosion, and chunks of decking collapsed inwards above my head, followed by an avalanche of cold, grey water. As the boat lurched on to its side, my fingers let go and I was flung against the ceiling and back on to the galley wall. The air filled with screams, some of them mine.

“Icy Water Flooded into the Boat. ‘Do You Think We’re Going to Die?’ Jon Asked. ‘Probably,’ I Said”

Some time passed, though I don’t know how much. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the floor of the main cabin, half-covered in water and surrounded by pieces of crockery, sodden books and hunks of decking. Icy water, black, grey and foaming white, flooded in through a hole above me. Jagged beams hung down from the ceiling, and one side of the cabin bulged inwards.

Mum was near the ladder. She tilted her head back to shriek through the hatch: “We’re sinking, Gordon! There’s a hole in the deck, and she’s full of water.”

I couldn’t get up – my legs didn’t want to move, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Maybe I could rest here, I thought, the water a blanket around me.

When I opened my eyes again I was lying in one of the top bunks in the four-berth cabin. Below me, the floor was covered with water and bits of debris – books, cushions, pieces of wood. Wavewalker felt full and drunk, and each time she tilted, water poured in through the hatch in the ceiling.

“Stop crying,” said Jon. “You’ve been crying for ages.”

I saw him lying on the bottom bunk on the other side of the cabin. He was right. I was crying.

He was clutching a square biscuit tin.

“Want one?” he asked, holding it up.

“No.” I tried to shake my head, but the pain made me stop.

I was wet, everything around me was wet, and some of the wetness was red. I closed my eyes, exhausted by the pain in my head. Dad appeared. He leaned over my bunk, his eyes underlined with curved shadows, his cheeks and nose red and inflamed.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

“I don’t think so.” My voice was a whimper.

He touched my right forearm, and I glanced down to see that his forefinger was dyed crimson.

“Why didn’t you tell me how bad this was?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” I said, but really he hadn’t been there to tell.

“Do you think we’re going to die?” Jon asked after our parents had left.

“Probably,” I said, trying to put the lifejacket on without moving my head or touching the swelling above my eye. The lump seemed to be growing. It was taking me over, a foreign thing embedded in my head.

Somehow – miraculously – Dad managed to navigate us over the next few days to a tiny island in the middle of the Indian Ocean: Île Amsterdam. Even more miraculously, we were still afloat when we reached it, due largely to the continuous pumping done by our two crew members, and the tarpaulin and quick-setting cement Dad had spread across the huge hole in our deck.

We were greeted on Île Amsterdam by Commandant Ghozi, who told us he was leading a French scientific mission of 30 people there. He took me to be examined by a thin man in a white coat named Dr Senellart. “She has a broken nose, a fractured skull and there is blood trapped inside the swelling on her head,” he told my parents when we rejoined them in the waiting room.

I slipped my hand inside Dad’s. “What if we do nothing?” he asked.

The family having tea at the helm. Photograph: Courtesy of Suzanne Heywood

“The swelling is pressing down on the fracture. If we do nothing, Monsieur Capitaine, your daughter could end up with brain damage. We must cut into the wound.”

For weeks, my mother kept taking me back to the tiny medical building where I underwent multiple operations on my head without anaesthetic, lying alone on the hospital bed. After my seventh operation, I went to find Mum in the waiting room.

“It is finished, Madame,” said Dr Senellart, following me in. “These,” he said, pointing to the shadows under my eyes, “will go in time. Your daughter is very brave.”

“I Was Nine And We Had Been Travelling For Two Years and 223 Days. Our Trip Was Supposed To Finish. But Dad Had Other Ideas.”

Mum, Jon and I were eventually rescued from Île Amsterdam by a passing container ship, while Dad sailed on with our two crew members to Fremantle in Australia in the dangerously damaged Wavewalker.

After repairing Wavewalker, we sailed from Fremantle to Sydney, and then across to New Zealand before turning north-east to make our way up to Hawaii. By the time we arrived in Honolulu, I was nine and we had been travelling for two years and 223 days. This was the point at which our trip was supposed to finish. Captain Cook had been killed in Hawaii, and we’d arrived there just over 200 years after his death.

But, of course, Dad had other ideas.

In Hawaii, the months turned into years while Dad tried various schemes to raise money, including working in a boatyard, setting up an exhibition on our trip and asking for donations. My 12th birthday came around and I gave up counting the days in my diary. I was learning nothing and was going crazy with boredom, since my parents – for reasons I never understood – had decided not to send us to school.

One night my father came home and said that we needed a family conference. The discussion took place over a dinner of corned beef and cabbage, spiced up with Tabasco sauce.

“Well, we can’t stay in Hawaii for ever,” he said. “I think we have two options. We’ve finished our voyage, so we could go home through the Panama Canal.”

We all nodded.

“Or we could sail back down the Pacific.”

I felt sick. It was the first time that Dad had suggested we might not go back to England

“But if we did that,” I asked, “when would we go home?”

“What’s the hurry? Think of all the places we haven’t seen. We haven’t even been to Tahiti yet.”

I put my hand on the sofa’s red plastic cover. He was listing more destinations – Vanuatu, New Caledonia, Papua New Guinea. Mum was nodding and smiling.

He glanced at me. “That’s enough discussion, Sue. It’s time to vote.”

I slumped against the seat. Mum folded a sheet of paper into quarters, ripping it along the creases. She pushed the pieces across the table towards us.

Everyone scribbled on the slips, which went into Dad’s blue felt captain’s hat, a blue boat on a wooden ocean that held our future.

Dad unfolded the first vote.

Pacific

He smiled, and his hand dived back in. He spread out the second vote.

Home

I stared at the slips of paper, avoiding his eyes. No one said anything.

The third vote came out.

Pacific

I wanted to look at Jon, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the final slip of paper, which would determine everything. Dad smoothed it out.

Home

“Ah,” he said, “we have a draw.” He looked at Jon and me, and I sat up straight, ready to explain my choice.

My father glanced at Mum and knocked another cigarette out of the packet on the table. “What you kids must realise,” he said, leaning back and blowing out a mouthful of smoke, “is this isn’t a democracy, it’s a benevolent dictatorship. The captain always gets the casting vote.” He picked up his glass of rum and Coke and raised it towards us. “And I think we should go back down the Pacific.”

We set off again. After a brief classroom experience in Queensland, Australia, some months later, I registered with a correspondence school, but finding the space and time I needed to study on board Wavewalker became a huge battle. My parents had by then started bringing paying crew on to the boat – advertising our voyages as “whale and dolphin sighting expeditions”. This turned our boat into a floating hotel in which I was expected to cook and clean for several hours a day. In addition, after I reached puberty, my relationship with my mother had deteriorated and she often didn’t talk to me for weeks on end, instead only referring to me in the third person, as if I was not there.

“I Was Trapped On Wavewalker Against My Will, With Parents Who Didn’t Seem To Care How Unhappy I Was.”

For the next three years we circled the Pacific. We were hit by another cyclone, and saw places like Tanna Island in Vanuatu, with its live volcano, remote Tikopia Island in the Solomons, and Marovo Lagoon in the New Georgia Islands, with its swamps and wood carvings. Meanwhile, I kept trying to study, hiding inside a sail to work so no one could find me to ask me to do more chores, and sending lessons back to the school whenever we reached a port that had a post office. I was trapped on Wavewalker against my will, with parents who didn’t seem to care how isolated or unhappy I was. I had no obvious way to get away – I had no money and no longer remembered any of my relatives or friends back in England. But, somehow, I trusted that if I educated myself enough it would help me escape.

I was 16 – and had been on Wavewalker for almost nine years – when Dad announced we were going to New Zealand. A few days after arriving in Auckland, Dad told us that he’d applied for the role of marketing manager at Hamurana Park, a tourist attraction several hours’ drive away, near Rotorua in the centre of New Zealand’s North Island. I had a thousand questions. Why was he applying for it? Would we stop sailing if he got it? What would then happen to Wavewalker? To name just a few. But when I tried to ask them, Dad shook his head. “Stop badgering me, Sue – if I get offered the job, then I’ll decide what we do.”

He set off in a hire car early one morning for his interview, squashed into his only suit. Later that day, we went to the yacht club to await his call. Mum took it when it came. “He got the job,” she told Jon and me afterwards. “We’re going to apply for New Zealand residency. The park’s owners want your dad to live in Rotorua, so we’ll find a school for Jon there.”

“But what about me?”

She hesitated. “Well, if your dad gets residency, you’ll get it, too. So you’ll be able to go to university in Auckland. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

When my father returned, he declared that we would stay in Auckland for Christmas before moving the boat down to the coastal city of Tauranga to start our annual repairs. Wavewalker would then be put into storage when he started his job. I nodded at this news. I didn’t want to stay in a country where I had no friends, but staying in one place was better than sailing, and, in any case, I’d learned not to argue with Dad’s decisions.

A couple of months later, Dad announced another decision – Jon and I were going to live in Rotorua on our own, so that Jon could start going to a school there. I would continue to learn by post, Dad told me, and would be responsible for looking after Jon, who was by then 15. When Wavewalker was repaired, he would start his job and come to live with us, while Mum kept sailing Wavewalker with another skipper, to make more money from paying crew.

“So what do you think?” asked Dad, after we had accelerated up a final short, steep track near Lake Rotoiti, and parked alongside two wooden holiday huts, known locally as “baches”.

“Is this where we’re going to live?”

“Yes.”

“But where is Rotorua?”

“It’s about 40 minutes’ drive away. But it’s nice here – you’ll see.”

I followed Dad through the sliding door of the slightly larger bach. Inside was a small sitting room furnished with a sofa covered in a worn, mud-brown blanket. A pot-bellied stove faced it, its black paint fighting the rust creeping up its curved legs. A door led to a galley kitchen and, next to that, a small bathroom contained a twin-cylinder, top-loading washing machine that looked like it should be in a museum. The bach had one bedroom that I could use, and Jon was going to sleep in the second, smaller bach.

Heywood attempting to study while en route to Fiji, 1985. Photograph: Courtesy of Suzanne Heywood

Dad returned to Tauranga, and I settled into a routine. Each morning, Jon came into the main bach for breakfast and I asked about his plans for the day, though he rarely said much. After he left to catch the school bus, I tidied up and took my books out to study on the veranda overlooking the lake.

When I tired of working, I’d row the house’s small dinghy out on to the water, pull in the oars and let it drift. It was there, lying on my back watching the birds loop and glide, that I allowed my thoughts to unravel. Wavewalker. Her movement backwards and forwards through the ocean. The dampness, the closed wooden cabins. My parents caught up in their own needs. Salt. Waves. Diesel. Dust. Boredom. Loneliness. Fear.

In late April, Dad returned to the bach to declare another change of plan. The skipper he’d hoped would take charge of Wavewalker wasn’t up to the task. Instead, he was going to resign from his job and sail the boat himself.

“You’re leaving again?” I asked, my voice faltering.

“Yes.” He avoided my eyes.

“When will you be back?”

“Well, we’re only partway through the first of three charters, so not until November.”

That was seven months away.

“How am I going to pay for things, Dad?” I said, my voice catching.

He hesitated. “Don’t worry. I’ll set up a separate account for you to use. I won’t be able to put much in it, so you’ll need to be very frugal.” He sipped his tea. “There’s one other thing. I need you to manage the bookings for the boat. There are spaces left on the trips for this year, so you’ll have to run some more advertisements.”

“The Yellow Pages Lay Next To The Phone. Almost Without Thinking, I Picked It Up And Dialled The Number For Childline.”

“Don’t worry, Sue,” he said. “I’ll ring whenever we get to a major port. And our friend Pam will help you if you need it.”

“But Pam lives three hours away in Auckland, Dad,” I said, still trying not to cry.

He got up. “I think we’d better call it a night, don’t you? I need to pack in the morning – your mum’s anxious for me to get back.”

One afternoon a few weeks later, I sat watching a stain on the sofa morph through a succession of shapes – a dolphin, a sail flapping, a man with a crooked nose, a laughing witch. Jon had left for school hours before, and I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there. The Yellow Pages lay next to the phone. Almost without thinking, I picked it up, flicked through its pages and dialled the number for Childline.

“I don’t understand,” said the counsellor. “Where are your parents?”

“They’ve gone sailing.”

“When are they coming back?”

“November, I think,” I said, and the tears started.

I took a breath.

Then, in a rush: “I don’t know where they are. I don’t know when they’ll call again.”

“Are there any adults who can help you?”

“My parents have a friend called Pam, but she lives several hours away.

I caught my breath and kept answering the counsellor’s questions: “No, I’m not going to school. I sit here on my own all day, trying to teach myself.” My voice quavered.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Wavewalker. Photograph: Courtesy of Suzanne Heywood

“Not very well. I’m finding it hard to eat and I have a permanent headache.” I paused, trying to keep control. “As well as looking after my brother, I have to run my dad’s business.”

“Oh dear,” said the counsellor. She was trying to be helpful, but the hint of kindness in her words pushed me over the edge. “And … and … ” I said, tears running down my face, “and worst of all, I don’t want to be spending my time doing any of this. I need to be studying, or I won’t get into university.”

There was another pause. “None of this is your fault,” she said. “You’re coping with far more than is fair. I can’t change that, though I can be here if you need to talk.”

The counsellor did give me one piece of advice before the call ended:

“You can’t deal with this alone. If you try to, things will keep getting worse.”

The quiet engulfed me after I hung up the phone. I brought my legs up on to the sofa and buried my head between my knees.

More weeks passed. My call to Childline hadn’t changed my world, but it had allowed me to accept that it wasn’t my fault that I’d been left to look after my brother alone in New Zealand. It had also spurred me on to find a friend, a girl who lived on a caravan site nearby. But when winter arrived, a new worry started keeping me awake at night: my New Zealand visa was about to expire. I put on my smartest clothes – a T-shirt and denim skirt – and drove to Tauranga, where I was sent to wait in a long line in the immigration building. Some hours later, the man looked at my passport. “Where are your parents?”

“‘Where Are Your Parents?’ I Was Asked At Immigration. ‘Fiji?’ I Replied.”

“They’re away for a bit,” I said, trying to sound cheery. “But they’ll be back soon.”

The man’s frown deepened. My smile faded, and I felt small.

“Where exactly are your parents?”

“Fiji?”

He shook his head. “If they’re not in New Zealand, I can only extend your visa by two weeks. You’re a minor: you can’t stay here alone.”

Three days later, the phone went. Wavewalker had arrived in Fiji.

“Don’t worry,” said Dad, when I described my crisis, “I’ll come back.”

Suzanne Heywood, photographed earlier this month. Photograph: Amit Lennon/The Guardian

When my father turned up in New Zealand a few days later, we went back to the immigration department in Tauranga. This time, with him promising to stay and look after me in New Zealand, they agreed to extend my visa for four months until early October. It still didn’t get me to my final exams in November, but it at least got me closer.

Once again, Dad was in a hurry to leave, saying that Mum was waiting for him in Fiji and he had work to do on Wavewalker to get it ready to sail again.

More weeks passed. Somehow, I managed my loneliness and focused on the only thing that might help – studying as hard as I possibly could, staring at my books out on the wooden veranda. By doing this, I could make my way through each day without breaking down.

When October came, I went to the police station. “I only need a month’s extension to my visa this time,” I told the officer, while he thumbed through my passport.

He shook his head. “I can’t extend this any further unless you can show me an air ticket back to England.”

I went from the police station to the local travel agency, where another man hunted down flights. The cheapest option was a circuitous journey up to Japan and back down through Hong Kong that would cost $600.

“Are you sure there’s no cheaper ticket?” Dad asked, when at last he rang and I’d explained my predicament. “It’s a ridiculous price.”

I said nothing. I was clenching the phone so tight it hurt my hand.

“Well,” he said, after a long pause. “I guess I have no choice. I’ll move the money into the account.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, and, with three hours to go, I got the passport stamp I needed. I could stay in New Zealand until 10 days after my exams, but would then have to return to England after a decade away to face whatever waited for me there.

When my plane reached Tokyo, I stumbled out, carried along in a wave of travellers. I heard laughter and turned to see a girl looking at me. “You have a lot of luggage,” she said. “Let me help.”

By the time we reached the other end of the pristine terminal, we were laughing and almost crying over my absurdly heavy bags, and I’d discovered my new friend was called Hélène and would be sharing my next flight to Hong Kong.

“I’m going back to Paris to find a job and somewhere to live after a year of travelling in Australia,” she said. “What are you doing here on your own?”

It was a long story, but we had time. So I told her about Wavewalker, my childhood at sea, and my determination to escape and go to university. It was odd to talk about these things so far from where it had all happened.

“But what if you don’t get in?” she asked.

I shrugged, trying to ignore the ball of fear inside my stomach.

“I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“Because at last I’m free.”

• This is an edited extract from Wavewalker: Breaking Free by Suzanne Heywood, published by William Collins on 13 April.

#Voyage Around the World 🌎#Captain Cook #Childhood Stolen #Suzanne Heywood #Three-Year Sailing ⛵️ 🛥️ 🚤 | Adventure #Journey of Fear | Isolation | Danger

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kulife2022 · 2 years

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Meeting New Friends at KU

Prologue

Arguably, the scariest part of going to college is making new friends. It’s not easy, but you have to face your fears at some point. College is all about growth, you will never grow if you don’t try new things. At Kutztown University, there are tons of ways to meet new friends and experience new things at the same time. Regardless of what way you chose to make friends in college, it is a very important thing to focus on when you first arrive. Having friends will make college go smoother and you will have someone to talk to when things get stressful.

In our blog, we highlight four different ways to make friends in college. The first way is to join a sports team. If you are recruited to play a sport in college, then it is easy to make friends through that sport. You get to live with a teammate(s) and you are with them all the time so it is common for athletes to get close with the people they play with. If you are not recruited to play a sport, there are tons of other recreational sports teams that anybody can join. This is still a great way to make friends that have something in common with you. The second way is to meet people in your dorm hall. At the end of the day, you will live with these people all year so why not get to know them? Knocking on a stranger’s dorm may seem scarier but it is a great way to get to know the people that are always around you. The third way is to join a club. There are endless clubs at Kutztown and they do not involve a lot of commitment. You can go as much or as little as you want and it is still a good (and easy) way to meet potential friends. The last way is to make friends in your classes. This is probably the easiest way because you will see these people almost everyday in class. The most important thing to remember is to not be afraid to talk to people you do not know.

Act I: Collegiate/Recreational Sports Teams

Sports teams within KU are a good way to meet new people from all over. Getting involved with sports or any activities on campus lets you meet/ get to know others and build bonds with new faces. It’s a good way to meet new people doing the same thing you like.

I met my friend Dj while playing basketball at the Rec Center. He was very self explanatory about how he met people through basketball at Kutztown, some of his friends on the team were from his hometown where he had played against them in high school.

There are many reasons why sports provide a good icebreaker for new friends. First, you and your team are all working together and playing by the same set of rules. You need to trust each other and as you get to know one another you play off each other's strengths. Also, sports brings out a variety of people, so you'll share a common point of interest. You don't need to worry about making small talk in order to bond because the play you're involved in will help you do that. As a result, you'll have more to talk about after the games and practices.

But make no mistake, sports also helps you get along socially. If you're someone that struggles with social grace, sports can teach you about interacting with other people, listening, and letting someone else take center stage. You'll learn to take the spotlight without arrogance when you win like a champ, and handle losses with humility.

Zamire Johnson

Act II: Dorm Hall

Kutztown has many different places to live on and off campus. I particularly live in Dixon Hall. Dixon houses a lot of the athletes and my friend Collin is one of them. Collin and I actually met when I knocked on his door. My suite-mates and myself went around the hall and just knocked on peoples doors the first two weeks of school or so. Everyone is nervous, anxious, excited, and wanting to make friends the first few weeks at a new place. I remember knocking on Collin’s door and just introducing myself and my friends and then meeting his suite-mates too. He ended up inviting us to come with him to the room of another teammate of his. When I asked Collin how he made most of his friends, I went to his room and knocked on his door, just like I had when we first met. His suite-mates were in the room but Collin and I didn’t go very far into the suite.

After explaining my purpose for interviewing him, in regards to making his own friends, he said, “a lot of them are from football, but mainly I just see names on the door and I knock, then I ask who is who.” Collin has a good point. I know that I have done that to many people here at Kutztown. A good portion of my friends, I met while knocking on doors or walking the different hallways in Dixon. If I personally didn’t meet them by knocking on their door, my friends knocked on their door and I met them through them. Some of my closest friends are actually those that I knocked on their doors in Dixon. I now go and hangout in different peoples rooms in Dixon. Regardless, putting yourself out there by knocking on doors and being social, will go a long way.

Caitlyn Stackhouse

Act III - Clubs and Activities

Kutztown University has a variety of clubs that all students are offered to join. Gabby, a freshman at KU, recently joined the Golden Bear Dance Company. She has always had a passion for dance and wanted to continue in college, but didn’t want to join the dance team as she already plays another sport. I asked Gabby how joining the dance club has helped her make new friends. Her response was, “it was extremely easy to make friends at dance because we are all doing what we love. It is a space where you are not only able to talk to others about schooling, but also talk about other interests and things we have in common.”

As Gabby said, clubs are able to provide a safe space for people to meet other people who all have a common interest. Joining clubs at KU are able to provide a sense of family that many students may need while away from home. Although Gabby hasn't been in the dance club for long, she claims, “I have met some of my closest friends from dance.” Finally, college comes with a lot of stressors. Clubs can be a space for students to meet new people and take their mind off things while doing what they love. Gabby shared “as a biology major I am taking many stressful classes and always doing school work. Dance has given me a space to take my mind off my work and feel free for a while.” Get out there and join new clubs to have fun and make new friends!

Elena Graff

Act IV - In Class

Making friends through your classes can be the easiest way to meet people. However, it can also be the most challenging depending on what kind of person you are. If you are outgoing, then you won’t have a tough time reaching out to new people and connecting with them. If you are on the shy side, it may be a little more difficult for you to do that.

Connor is shy when he is around strangers and tends to keep to himself during classes. When he got to Kutztown, he knew that he had to try to be more outgoing. This benefited him for the better. Connor started out by saying, “I made a lot of friends in all of my classes. It was the first thing that I tried to do when the semester started. I knew that it would be important to have friends, to not only hang out with, but to also do schoolwork with.” I asked Connor to explain how he went about making friends in class. He said, “Compared to other classes, some were easier to make friends. In some of my classes, my teacher did an introduction activity where we got into groups and had to introduce ourselves. In those classes, I became friends with the people that were in my group. It also helped that some of those same people were in a bunch of my classes because we had the same or similar majors. I had some classes that didn’t do an introductory activity so it made it harder to put myself out there. I went up to a few guys and introduced myself. We ended up having a lot in common and became good friends inside and outside of class.”

Connor had a lot of success making friends in his classes. They take tests together and help each other with homework. Also, Connor has been able to meet other people through the friends that he made in class. This is a great way to meet a lot of new people that aren’t necessarily in your classes. Even though this may sound easy, it is hard for some people to do. I asked Connor to share some advice for new Kutztown students who want to make friends in class. His advice was to not be afraid to put yourself out there and to go up and introduce yourself to other people on the first day of classes. Another piece of advice that he gave was to not only talk to your friends about your class, but to also become friends with them outside of schoolwork.

Emma Stalsitz

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potatomaraca94 · 2 years

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<h1>Edgerrin James Corridor Of Fame Profile</h1>

In 2000, James donated $250,000 to the University of Miami, the most important donation ever made to the university by considered one of its former athletes. The college responded by naming the football meeting room after him. On July 26, 2011, James announced his retirement from football. For more information, evaluation, perception and extra, observe Donnie on twitter @DonnieDruin.

The Indianapolis Colts selected James within the first spherical of the 1999 NFL Draft with the fourth overall decide. Some critics believed that the Colts made a mistake by selecting James over the reigning Heisman Trophy winner Ricky Williams, but proved to be the proper choice for the Colt's offense. "I cannot say my time with the Cardinals wasn't big-time," James stated.

Florida State would lose to Tennessee for the National Championship. James additionally completed his NFL career a formidable 10th averaging 5.3 yards per contact. Unfortunately for James, he left an elite Indianapolis offense following the 2005 season as a free agent to sign with the Arizona Cardinals. Edgerrin James was selected fourth general within the 1999 NFL Draft by the Indianapolis Colts out of the University of Miami. James had a spectacular rookie season by main the NFL in each RUSH YDS and total TD , which obtained him a spot in each the Pro Bowl and All-Pro teams, together with successful the offensive ROY award. His very subsequent season, he led the league in RUSH YDS once more along with YScm . After seven years with the Colts, he signed with the Cardinals in 2006 before retiring in 2009.

The AP NFL Offensive Rookie of the Year in 1999, he earned four Pro Bowl choices and four All-Pro selections. James is the Colts' all-time leader in profession speeding yards, makes an attempt, and touchdowns. James is thirteenth on the all-time dashing record, and a member of the 10,000 Yards rushing membership. He was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame as a member of the Class of 2020.

As Arizona marched by way of the NFC facet of the playoffs, James carried the ball 52 occasions for 203 yards and a landing because the Cardinals superior to the Super Bowl. Unfortunately, Arizona would finally fall quick in what could be James’ ultimate game for the Cardinals. He led the league in carries and speeding yards while ending second in yards from scrimmage . Those numbers earned James the 1999 NFL Offensive Rookie of the Year award from the Associated Press. Following his impressive school profession, James was selected fourth overall in the 1999 NFL Draft by the Colts.

The Cardinals have used their last two first spherical draft alternatives on linebackers, but the position nonetheless seems to be certainly one of need. Former Cardinals linebacker Karlos Dansby stated Arizona was not able to slow the game down when it started to slip in Monday's playoff loss. In his third season with the franchise, James led the Cardinals to a 9-7 report and a Super Bowl appearance in opposition to the Pittsburgh Steelers. After a protracted and successful tenure with the Indianapolis Colts, which included 4 Pro Bowls, James got here to Arizona in 2006 after the Cardinals skilled a 5-eleven season the year prior.

Edgerrin James is a working again for the Arizona Cardinals within the National Football League and he holds the document for most complete yards from scrimmage per recreation in an everyday season career. Edgerrin James additionally holds the Indianapolis Colts group record for highest total yards gained while rushing .

At the time, James was the one back in class historical past to post two consecutive 1,000-yard dashing seasons. On July 26, 2011, James announced his retirement from professional soccer. He had amassed 12,246 dashing yards (eleventh all-time at the time of his last recreation in 2009) and eighty dashing touchdowns . James signed a four-yr, $30 million deal with the Arizona Cardinals on March 23, 2006. With the retirement of Corey Dillon, James became the active leader in profession rushing yards at the start of 2007, and remained so by way of his final recreation in November 2009 .

All recommendation, together with picks and predictions, is based on individual commentators’ opinions and never that of Minute Media or its associated manufacturers. No one ought to expect to earn cash from the picks and predictions discussed on this web site.

2008 Edgerrin James bobbleheads had been manufactured in the yr 2008 and their worth as a collectors item is rising as a result of no extra might be made. These restricted version Edgerrin James bobbleheads are displayed on a base that options the teams colours and logo. A small raised plaque with the participant's number is featured on the proper side of the base and each piece is hand painted and numbered. Your Edgerrin James bobblehead gift shall be packed and shipped in a colourful, durable cardboard field with molded plastic safety. Prior to his NFL profession, James grew to become a legend on the Miami football staff. During en period head coach Butch Davis was rebuilding the Hurricanes coming off probation, James carried the Miami offense. From , James had 2,960 rushing yards, 32 touchdowns and 42 receptions for 595 yards and three TDs.

The Hall of Fame working back talked about a couple of Arizona Cardinals in his enshrinement speech. "It means everything to be sitting here," James mentioned in a press conference following the announcement. " bobble head gift was always to be patient, and it was only a matter of time." He additionally discovered himself demoted by way of a part of the 2008 Super Bowl season in favor of Tim Hightower. The content on this web site is for leisure and academic purposes solely.

Edgerrin James was very dominant throughout his first couple of years in the league earlier than tearing his ACL six games into his third season. The solely season where James and the Colts missed the playoffs was the season he was injured. James and Peyton Manning led one of the best offenses in NFL history after they had been taken in again-to-again drafts. He completed his Colts career with 4 Pro Bowls and 1 All-Pro, which helped him earn a spot on the HOF All-2000s group, as he was one of many biggest RBs in his period. Indianapolis Colts president Bill Polian made a dangerous and controversial transfer simply ahead of the 1999 NFL draft when he traded probably the greatest players in the league for a pair of draft picks. Marshall Faulk was coming off 4 1,000-yard rushing seasons in five years, during which time he’d additionally caught 297 passes, and he had just lately been selected to the Pro Bowl for the third time. From 1996 to 1998, James was electrifying as a running again for the Miami Hurricanes.

James was inducted into the Colts’ Ring of Honor in Week three of the 2012 season. While he by no means gained a Super Bowl with Indianapolis, he does have a Super Bowl ring. The yr after James left, the Colts gained Super Bowl XLI. As a mark of respect for all he had achieved with the group, Jim Irsay despatched James a Super Bowl ring. As he is inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, let's take a look back at Edgerrin James' profession, his stats, and his net worth. In the identical 12 months, the mom of four of his children, Andia Wilson, handed away from leukaemia at 30 years old.

Unfortunately, Arizona would ultimately fall short in what can be James’ last recreation for the Cardinals.

However, the Colts simply went three-13 under new coach Jim Mora in Peyton Manning’s interception-plagued rookie 12 months.

When James’ career at Miami ended, he led the varsity in single-season rushing yards and touchdowns.

All of that resulted in James ranking second in the decade in yards from scrimmage and eighth in touchdowns .

For more information, analysis, insight and extra, comply with Donnie on twitter @DonnieDruin.

That was the one season McGahee was the first-group Miami RB. James is arguably the most effective RB in Miami history with back-to-back 1,000-yard seasons in 1997 and 1998.

But his three seasons with the Cardinals were not meaningless – they included two 1,000-yard seasons in his first two seasons in Arizona and a visit to the Super Bowl in his third. Build your custom FanSided Daily email publication with information and analysis on Arizona Cardinals and all of your favourite sports activities groups, TV shows, and extra. It was most likely slightly bit of both, however Arizona was actually joyful to see him on the sector in their uniform for three seasons. James never topped 1,500 dashing yards during his tenure with the Cardinals , but he was a member of the roster that helped the franchise reach its first-ever Super Bowl in 2008.

The majority of that was earned all through his soccer career. Following the 1999 NFL Draft, James signed a seven-12 months contract worth $forty nine million, including a $9.5 million signing bonus. James finished his profession with the Seattle Seahawks earlier than formally retiring in 2011. Additionally, his spectacular profession saw him rank tenth on Pro Football Network’s all-time running back rankings. In 2008, while James’ workload decreased, his experience as a cross protector was heavily leaned upon in the regular season. Nevertheless, in the playoffs, James would prove his worth once again.

All single season information held by James have since been broken by former Baltimore Ravens running again Willis McGahee. At the University of Miami, he was some of the successful working backs in the faculty’s history. In his three-yr profession, James amassed 2,960 dashing yards, scoring 32 touchdowns. Additionally, he contributed 595 receiving yards and three receiving touchdowns on forty two receptions.

© 2022 NFL Enterprises LLC. NFL and the NFL defend design are registered trademarks of the National Football League.The team names, logos and uniform designs are registered trademarks of the teams indicated. All different NFL-associated emblems are logos of the National Football League. Your favorite groups, topics, and players all on your favorite cell gadgets.

Shell was a linebacker at South Carolina State who went undrafted, was shifted to security in Pittsburgh and became a tackling machine. With veterans on strike in his rookie yr of 1974, Shell made such an impression that coach Chuck Noll inserted him as a starting security.

#bobblehead

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unluckilyimnot · 2 years

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Hello!💖 For the prompt list, may I request #1 or #30 (or both!) with Ran Haitani or Mikey (which ever one is okay!) Love ya!!💖💖💖

1 "But it's you, you're the one that I want" + 30 "Find another one cause they belong to me" - fluff with Mikey and Ran !

Note: I can do both, don't worry ! I just only put one of the line for Ran, I hope you don't mind but I was kinda stuck. Love you too 🤍 Thank you for asking ! From this

Mikey

You were supposed to meet up with Mikey after his meeting with captains and waiting for him was agony. You were bored as hell and nothing comes to your mind to entertain you before Chifuyu shows up. Yes, it was a “captain only” meeting so he had to wait for Takemichi too. In the end, he was as bored as you and honestly you even started to count how many times he sighs.

“That’s like, the eleventh time in three minutes I swear to god Chifuyu-”

“Not my fault they’re taking forever !” He defends himself. “Plus you’re doing it as much as me.”

Thinking about what you should do or at least talk about while waiting, you remember the last chapter of a manga you two read.

"Hey, the last chapter of xxxx was dramatic as hell, right ?"

He literally chuckles so hard you thought he was choking on his own saliva.

"For sure, I couldn't stop laughing," he adds, looking at you with a cute smile.

As Mikey walked out of the room with his men in his tracks, the first thing he saw was you being ridiculous with Chifuyu. You two were recreating the last scene way too seriously. Chifuyu tries to catch both your hands but you push him away way too dramatically.

"But it's you y/n ! You're the one I want !" Quotes the blond boy, making your lover's ears ring. What the actual fuck ?

In a second, Mikey was next to you, holding you with his eyebrows furrowed to Chifuyu. Probably ready to kill him, making the poor boy sweat.

"They belong to me, find another one," Mikey was dead serious here.

"I'm just kidding," he felt forced to defend his case before something happened to him. A tense smile on the lips.

Holding Mikey back, you felt his muscles relax under your touch.

"You guys take forever !" You sulk, taking all Mikey's attention to you to Chifuyu's safety. Kissing your temple to excuse himself, he just wanted to spend the rest of the day with you now, just to be sure that Chifuyu was really joking. He couldn't live without you after all.

Ran

Ran was patiently watching you and Rindou playing around with his legs crossed like an old mother. You two being in the same class and so spending lots of your time together makes him feel like a third wheel sometimes. He was still happy to see that dating him didn't kill your friendship with his brother. Rindou was being so natural and goofy with you, it was just a win-win situation for Ran. He still has to admit that you two look like 13 years old kids to run around the park like this but in the end who cares ?

Apparently the bunch of guys on the other side of the park did. Ran was looking at them for a moment now, how they laugh at Rindou's behavior or the way one of them follows you a bit too close to his liking. Not that he would get up or do anything, as long as he doesn't move he's safe.

On the other hand, you and Rindou were kinda bothered. The group in front of you was some people from your school that you don't really like and them following you here was annoying. Mostly because they placed a bet on you going out with one of them like you weren't already taken. Not that they knew it tho.

Rolling his eyes, Rindou sends them a killer gaze before deciding to leave. Agreeing happily, you walk to get back your jacket that was laying on the floor cause you were too hot earlier, someone picked it up for you before you could do it yourself. Looking up, it was one of your classmates - that you don’t necessarily like - smiling at you. Taking your jacket with a forced smile and a small thank you, you felt the urge to go back to your friends before he speaks but, unfortunately, he gripped your arm before you could. Closing your eyes in clear bother, you let go a sigh through your nose.

“Say, can you go on a date with me ?” the guy bluntly said, without any shame.

“No, thanks, I’m not interested-”

“Oh come on !” he insisted, pulling you to him. “It’s not like anyone would date you anyway-” It was his turn to be cut off but more brutally. Ran was standing behind you, a lazy but scary smile and just hit the poor no man’s arm with his baton. He growls at the sudden pain while Ran hugs your waist to keep you safe. Holding his baton in front of his face, he has to admit that he really wanted to knock him out after what he just said to you, but instead he contained himself and decided to hurt his ego.

“Sorry man, you have to find another one ‘cause they belong to me,” Ran says with a smile, making your heart flutter.

I know im posting like everything is fine cause there's nothing much to do, but I hope everyone is safe. I think we all know what is happening in Ukraine and Europe rn and I hope you and your family are safe.

I hope you liked it !

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyorev x reader #mikey imagines #mikey x reader #mikey fluff #mikey headcanon #haitani ran imagines #haitani ran x reader #ran fluff #ran headcanons #majiro sano x reader #sano mikey manjiro #haitani brothers #ran haitani #tokyo revengers hc #tokyo revengers fluff

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ellicler · 2 years

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izzy hands is a sad and desperate little man futilely struggling against the systems he hates, yet unable to escape their conditioning. he constantly recreates the very power structures that he’s trying to destroy because a. he thinks they’re effective, b. they’re the only thing he knows and c. he’s inherently someone who likes existing inside of very ordered and familiar lines and he’s afraid of the chaos of change, of stepping into the disordered unknown. (in that way edward is very complementary and very healthy for him.)

there’s three major areas where he exhibits the same dynamic (they’re all interconnected of course). first is obviously patriarchy with its toxic masculinity, its cycles of abuse, its denial of true intimacy. a lot has been said on this point by people more eloquent than me. it’s stede who has the idea to propose an idiotic and visionary question, ‘and what if it wasn’t like that?’ (stede who has more leisure and more intellectual breathing room as a member of the privileged class. this show is so good.) other pirates (even the ones from blackbeard’s crew) accept this freedom of emotional expression, izzy vehemently rejects it.

second is the (british naval) hierarchy, and probably more generally western colonialism as a theme. it’s great we got to see how much izzy despises the british (’do you really want to lick the king’s boots?’) and yet his intransigence about the hierarchy on blackbeard’s ship is something weirdly parallel to the inhumane discipline on the british fleet. what are you even a pirate for, if you don’t have workplace democracy and a preestablished code of conduct? all right, a ship needs a certain amount of discipline to function, and you want to beat you enemies at their own game, but leaving no freedom for your crew makes you honestly indistinguishable from the system you hate. (it does make me wonder if izzy has some past background in the military fleet.) this is also a perspective that best explaines the rather odd scene of izzy as captain of Revenge lording it over the crew. he’s pointedly having dinner while they work (very much a parallel to the ep1 dining scenes with the british officers, a caste who hold themselves above the simple sailors serving them and get killed for their arrogance) and he also chooses to put to physical work the three men of color from the original crew (who doesn’t love to add a bit of racism to their classism). from the POV of the audience (and the crew) izzy is achieving precisely nothing with this show of symbolic power, but for him it’s probably the natural way to display and reinforce his new status (he wants to establish new boundaries quickly). a hilarious values dissonance. (mate just take a page out of blackbeard’s book and threaten someone with a knife through the eye, even that would’ve worked better.)

third is christianity with its ideas about love, servitude and virtue. (as @knowlesian hasn’t yet written the Weird White Jesus post, i’m forced to muddle through on my own, but i didn’t notice it before their game-changing izzy meta. unfortunately christian insanity is background noise to me, i was raised and bred on dostoyevsky.) there’s a very specifically christian emotional tone about self-sacrifice and suffering as the Greatest virtue, about self-abjection and self-negation due as service to your idol who is the quintessence of all perfection and power. the worship and unquestioning obedience due to White God Jesus and his proxies on this earth are trained into you and that's something that leaves a permanent impression on one’s sense of self. so once you rebel against the corrupt and selfish authorities you still carry that expectation of the Perfect Incarnation of Authority in you, an empty place inside your soul. you’ve learned that joy in acceptance of suffering is the highest form of love. you must not only submit willingly to the pain inflicted on you but also find happiness and fulfillment in it. ...i’m sure it’s plain to see the more extreme of izzy’s kinks have a lot of themes in common with this, but it’s also about the general psychological need to find the perfect leader and submit oneself wholly and entirely to his cause. you can’t just respect and follow a good man: you have to make a God out of him. (again, from edward’s POV being objectified in this way is just a colonisation narrative, again as @knowlesian pointed out here).

so anyway. izzy hands season 2 challenge. if your violent defiance of these systems is to be worth a damn, you have to stop letting yourself be defined by their narratives

#ooof this went in certain directions i didn't expect #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #yes YES i'm gonna watch black sails as soon as i have time I KNOW I SHOULD #my ofmd meta

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

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wonderful-writes · 3 years

Text

Presume

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom thinks you’re too pretty to be any good at academics. You can imagine his shock when he’s proven wrong.

Word Count: 2k (2,097)

Author’s Note: The idea for this fic was given to me by @bellaswansrealgf. It was such a fun topic to write, so thank you so much bae for coming up with the idea! I’ll definitely be using more of your suggestions in the future.

Tom Riddle found himself becoming increasingly irritated. How could Professor Slughorn possibly expect him to work with a partner? What kind of fool did Slughorn think he was? Tom was perfectly capable of completing his project himself, and it was rather insulting for his professor to assign someone to help him. And not just anyone. Slughorn had assigned you.

You, the pretty girl, were in no capacity an ideal partner. You were friendly and charming and surely too bubble-headed to know a thing about potions. You were probably irritating and selfish and vain, too. Tom would have rather been partnered up with the clown from Gryffindor than with you.

“Tom, right?” you asked as you took a seat next to him. You were dressed in neat robes and had nicely styled hair. You probably spent all morning on it.

“Yes,” he replied curtly without so much as a glance your way. He began flipping his textbook to the desired page and scanning it with his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.

Tom ignored you as he continued to read the page.

“So, what kind of potion do you think we should make?” you asked him, opening your own book.

Once again, Tom didn’t bother to look up or respond.

“Hello?” you tried again.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I know potions is probably not your area of expertise, so it’s best if you just sit there and let me work.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised at how this stranger could claim to already know you without having ever spoken to you. “How would you know if I’m not good at potions?”

Tom scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like you’d be much of an academic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, starting to get offended.

“Well, I’m the best in the class,” Tom said like it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth. “Professor Slughorn probably sent you here so that I could babysit you. You can’t be any good if you need me as a mentor.”

“I don’t need you as a mentor,” you told him. “Professor Slughorn wanted us to work together for this assignment.”

“Like I said,” he replied, turning back to his book, “maybe you should let me handle the assignment.”

You were beyond aggravated. How could someone who barely knows you make such assumptions about you? You were more than adept in potions, and it was unfair of him to shut you down without letting you prove your skills.

“You realize this assignment is worth 25% of our grade, don’t you?” you asked him as you crossed your arms.

“Precisely,” he answered. “Which is why I won’t let you mess it up.”

You had never met a more arrogant person.

“If you’re going to be this way,” you declared, “I’ll just ask Slughorn if I can work alone. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief as you packed your belongings and walked away. You were attractive, sure, but you were also annoying. He was glad to be rid of anyone who didn’t let him take charge.

Slughorn allowed the two of you to work separately. To Tom’s approval, you set up your station far away from his. He almost pitied you. It couldn’t be easy for someone like you to complete an entire project by yourself. People like you only cared about their appearances or what the latest gossip was. There was no way you could make any of the complicated potions on the list of options for the assignment without help.

By the end of the week, Slughorn had finished grading the students’ potions and their accompanying essays. Tom, ever so confident in his abilities, was shocked when he didn’t receive a perfect score.

“What did I do wrong, Professor?” he asked after class had been dismissed. “I could have sworn I didn’t miss anything.”

“You forgot to crush the bay leaves before you put them in,” Slughorn explained. “But not to worry, my boy. You chose a highly complex concoction. It is almost guaranteed that any student who attempts to recreate it will forget at the very least one step.”

“Did anyone else choose that potion?” Tom wondered.

Slughorn nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“And did anyone get it right?” Tom asked. He was doubtful that anyone in the class could have succeeded at something he failed to perfect, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That’s for me to know, my boy,” the teacher answered. Seeing the frustrated look on Tom’s face, he chuckled and added, “Just know that you shouldn’t judge your partners so prematurely.”

Tom spent the majority of the night ruminating on Slughorn’s words. Could it be that you were the student who had gotten the perfect score on the potion he had attempted? He refused to believe it. Slughorn must have been referring to another student, one that Tom was paired with in the past. You couldn’t possibly be the partner in question.

It had been weeks since Tom came in second for the first time in his life. He convinced himself that it couldn’t have been you who bested him. Of course, he speculated who the true victor could be, but he couldn’t put his finger on who in the class could be worthy of such high marks.

Eventually, the time came for the annual examination preparation. Professor Slughorn’s students were assigned a series of practice exams to help them prepare for the actual ones. Each practice test focused on a different area within potions, and it was the students’ job to be well-versed in all of them.

At the beginning of every week, a new practice exam was passed out, and the grades for the previous week’s exam was posted on a roster at the front of the class.

Tom never bothered with making a show of checking his grades, knowing fully well that he would always be at the head of the class. But with the newfound knowledge of a possible competitor, he couldn’t quell his curiosity.

Making his way to the front of the room with the usual throng of Slytherin boys, he displayed no sign of concern. Why should the best in the year have to worry about some halfwit who ran into a bit of luck one time?

His air of indifference was quickly squashed, however, when he approached the posted practice exam scores and saw that his was the second highest. Second? That couldn’t be right. Tom Riddle never came in second. Who was first? Who could feasibly best Tom Riddle at a potions examination? The most brilliant student in all of Hogwarts, and in his best subject too?

He was horrified beyond comparison when he saw none other than your name at the pinnacle of the score sheet.

You.

Impossible. There was no chance that the bubbly girl with the face of an angel, er, a moron, could ever have received such excellent marks.

He’d seen you around, and you were most definitely not the kind of girl who cared about your performance in school. You were always smiling with your friends or tucking your hair behind your ear or dazzling a crowd with an extraordinary story. When you weren’t smoothing down your clothes or checking your made-up face, you were befriending the professors, something only stupid people needed to do.

So how could you have gotten a higher score than him? There must have been a mistake. He would have to ask Slughorn about it after class.

As he walked back to his seat, he glanced at where you were positioned, a table not too far from his own. You had already started on your assignment for the day, making quick work of the cutting and crushing of ingredients. Sure enough, you were dripping with the grace and beauty of someone who most likely didn’t know the difference between reed and foxtail.

How could one possibly be proficient in any academic subject when they looked like that? You probably spent more time shining your shoes than studying for exams. Then how did you beat him, and twice?

He watched you work for the remainder of the period. To his surprise, you were doing everything correctly. You never added a drop too much or a sprig too little. You stirred with precision and knew what color to look for in the brew. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Were you truly more intelligent than he had originally presumed?

Still unconvinced, he approached Professor Slughorn after dismissal to question the scores from the most recent exam.

Slughorn only sent him a mysterious look before answering, “Everything is as it should.”

After the third week of coming in second place, Tom decided that it was enough. It was time he put his troubles to rest and find out for himself what sort of witchcraft was in play.

“Are you cheating?” he abruptly asked you the moment you took your seat. Professor Slughorn was not yet in class, giving the students ample time to converse before lessons began.

Startled, you stared back at him. “What?”

“You must be receiving help on your practice exams or at the very least borrowing notes from someone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “So tell me. Who is it?”

You had had enough of this arrogant git’s behavior. “What makes you think I need help? Is it so hard to believe that you are not the only person in this room who can do well in school?”

“Well I- you see, you’re not exactly the sort to put much thought to academics,” he defended.

“And what sort is that?” you questioned.

“You know, the vain, pretty lot,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d imagine you spend more time on your appearance than on your academics.”

You gaped at the boy before you. “You think I’m pretty? And before you go on, my appearance has nothing to do with my drive to excel in scholarly affairs. I’ll have you know I’m more than capable of receiving just as good of marks as you are, despite what you think.”

“Then work with me on today’s partner project,” he challenged.

“Excuse me?” The last thing you were expecting was for the high-and-mighty Tom Riddle to want anything to do with you after his blatant rudeness.

“If you’re truly as good as you say—”

“You mean as good as the scores prove,” you cut in.

Tom rolled his eyes. “If you’re really that good, show me. Demonstrate your skills on today’s potion, and I’ll believe you.”

So the two of you spent the class working together on the assigned potion. Tom made sure to stand back so that you could have the freedom to do things on your own, silently hoping that you would make a mistake. But you didn’t.

Your potion was perfect. There was not an herb out of place or a drop not potent enough. Everything was as it should.

You had clearly proven to Tom that you were a skilled student, worthy of his second glance. You only hoped that the self-righteous twat would realize not to judge people before knowing them.

“While I hate to admit my own shortcomings, you were right,” Tom conceded.

You smiled at his admittance. “Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you learned something from this experience.”

He had expected to feel more disdain at the fact that he had finally found his match. He was waiting for annoyance, jealousy, some spark of rage at being second-best. But all he felt was a strange sensation.

You were quite honestly brilliant, and he couldn’t remember a time when he genuinely thought that about a fellow student. You were quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and unafraid to back down from a challenge. You stood up to him despite barely knowing anything about him, other than that he was a royal pain to you. And, not to mention, you were quite a sight to behold.

It was no secret that Tom kept to himself more often than not. Sure, he had a group of peers who respected him — whether out of fear or genuine liking is up for debate — but he never got to know anyone on a personal level. He never let anyone get too close or see him for someone other than the shining pupil with big plans. But, for once, he wanted someone to share his genius with.

He intended to make you that person.

—

Part 2

#tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction

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thornedrose44 · 3 years

Note

Supercorp prompt-

Lena takes an art class to de-stress and Kara is the nude model. Awkward semi- naked flirting ensues.

(A/N: So, I put my own twist on this (hope that’s okay), I made Lena a teacher just because I liked the idea of Lena having to keep her lack of chill under control and be professional in front of a class funny - though this fic went down just a really light, fluffy route which I hadn’t expected when I started it.)

Read on AO3

It had been going well, the first term had passed with only a few missteps and one trip to the emergency room - though, the Dean had told her that Zach had yet to make it through a single class without some sort of accident and had been preemptively banned from taking Chemistry classes for fear of taking out an entire graduation class.

Lena had never expected to return to her alma mater as a lecturer but the stars had aligned at just the right time. The youngest Luthor had reached a stage in her career where she had finally proven her adoptive mother wrong about not finding success as an artist and had made enough money that she need never paint another picture in her life again. The lack of necessity and the return to a more Luthor-esque lifestyle - galas, fancy balls and paid talks - had subsequently impacted her inspiration. She needed a change. A return to her roots and some sort of stability without losing her ability to make a personal impact with her work.

Her mentor - J’onn - was stepping down from the art department and had recommended her as his replacement; National City University had jumped at the chance of the world renowned Lena Luthor taking up a teaching position there.

She was now a third of the way through the school year, settled comfortably into her new role, and absolutely loving it. Her spark was back, and she was enjoying being in one place surrounded by her old friends. She was reconnecting with skills and techniques she hadn’t touched in years whilst simultaneously giving advice and encouragement to students that reminded her of herself when Lillian had cut her off to force her into attending business school and abandoning her dreams. She was finally able to return the kindness J’onn had given her all those years ago to the next generation of artists.

It was the second term that Lena experienced her first set of real nerves.

Lena had an artistic weak spot, an achilles heel that she had been able to keep out of her signature artistic style but she would now be forced to confront.

Life drawing.

It had been her lowest scoring class by a mile and she had avoided the advanced elective classes like the plague. Lena knew practice made perfect but she’d never had enough interest to develop her skills. Her interest had always lied more in natural landscape beauty - J’onn had said her true inspiration lied with trying to recreate her childhood memories of Ireland: emerald rolling hills, rocky cliffs, dense forests ensconced by a mystical fog that lended her artwork a fantastical element that she was now known for.

The problem lied in Lena’s lack of interest in people.

She had never really seen the ‘art’ in them.

Kelly, Sam and Andrea had spent hours over evening drinks psycho-analysing just why that might be, their two favourite theories were Lena’s family (the loss of her mother and the general unpleasantness of the Luthors) or Lena’s truly terrible dating history (their favourite topic of conversation due to the sheer number of embarrassing stories it elicited).

Lena refused to acknowledge the accuracy of both theories.

It was therefore with a sense of dread that Lena prepared for the first Life Model Drawing class that Tuesday afternoon. The one small silver lining was that she didn’t need to arrange a model - she had vague memories of J’onn trying to entice volunteers and grumbling under his breath about some of the less than pleasant eager volunteers. J’onn had a list of regular volunteers that he had accrued over the years that were reliable and just liked to help out - most of them older with an appreciation for the arts and more time on their hands than they knew what to do with. The University admin team had organised everything and simply told her to expect a Kara Danvers at the studio some time before the class.

Lena had finished prepping the studio well in advance, reviewed the relevant techniques for most of the morning and even phoned J’onn for a much needed pep talk over lunch. She had just convinced herself that everything might be okay, that she just might be able to do this, when the most beautiful woman Lena had ever laid eyes on burst into the studio.

A toned body that glinted with a light sheen of sweat barely covered by a white v-neck tucked in at the front of a pair of dark jeans that merely brought all of Lena’s attention to the bronze belt buckle that locked away a thousand dirty thoughts. Glorious golden ringlet curls bounced up and down as the woman stumbled to a sudden stop as the most piercing blue eyes imaginable behind thick glasses locked with Lena’s green ones.

“Hi, I’m Kara!” The goddess announced, swallowing thickly and stumbling forward in her hefty black boots as she extended out a hand for Lena to take.

Lena only reached out due to years of Luthor training that had ingrained politeness into her muscle memory - her brain still not firing on all cylinders at the sight of the woman in front of her. Kara’s warm palm connected with Lena’s, long fingers curling gently yet firmly around the edge of her hand and sending arcs of lightning through Lena’s body and causing her breath to stutter.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me for too long.” Kara continued, a bright apologetic smile lighting up her entire face and grinding whatever gears were still turning Lena’s mind to a dead - permanent - halt. “I try to always get here early to help set-up but the interview I was conducting overran - I’m a journalist, by the way - and then my bike - motorbike that is -” Lena’s mind caught on the motorbike and turned it round over and over and over again, “didn’t start and… I’m rambling. Oh, golly! I mean heck, I mean sorry.” Kara huffed, cheeks filling with air before releasing into an adorable pout. “Sorry.”

It was then that Lena realised two things.

One, it was her turn to say something and there had now been at least ten prolonged seconds of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes.

And two, they were still holding hands because that’s what it was now, it most definitely could not be considered a handshake.

“Umm… hi…” Lena choked out whilst simultaneously jerking her hand back to her side, hoping the somewhat stifling heat of the studio would hide the red blush perfusing her cheeks. “Lena. I’m Lena, that is…”

“Hi.” Kara murmured, smiling soft and sweet at her causing Lena’s heart to flip and melt and dance and do a million impossible things all at once.

“Hi.” Lena repeated dumbly - so dumbly.

“I should…” Kara chuckled, hands miming grabbing the edge of her t-shirt and lifting it up, “You know?”

Oh, god the goddess is going to undress, Lena’s brain screamed in gay at herself.

“Yeah, definitely do that.” Lena encouraged with a flap of her hand towards the centre of the studio where a solitary illuminated stool awaited. “Do you need anything? Is the lighting okay? Stool… umm… sturdy?”

Kara grinned at her, blue eyes barely sparing a glance at the studio’s set-up, “Looks perfect.”

“Great.” Lena cheered, jerking her thumb over at her desk in the corner where she had prepped her teaching materials, “I’ll… uh… be over there.”

“And I’ll be right here.” Kara shot back with a cheeky wink as she walked over to the stool, a towel awaiting her to provide suitable covering until the class had settled, shucking her white shirt over her head and revealing back muscles that would star in Lena’s fantasies for the foreseeable future.

“Yep.” Lena popped, taking a deep breath and trying to work out if she should be murmuring a thank you to God or screaming a desperate why me.

***

The class had gone well - except for the long periods where her brain shutdown whenever she studied the play of shadows across Kara’s defined musculature. She managed to cover it quite well by making it seem like she was just assessing her students’ work closely, analysing their line work and shading rather than going through an extended gay crisis that eclipsed seeing boobs for the first time in college.

Kara, on the other hand, was a consummate professional, holding a steady pose throughout and utterly unfazed by the concentrated gazes on her - though, Lena could have sworn that she caught deep blue eyes tracking her movements round the half-circle every now and again.

“So, you’re experienced doing this?” Lena asked, once the last student had departed and Kara was finishing re-tying her sturdy boots back up.

“Taking my clothes off?” Kara chuckled, shooting the teacher an amused smirk, getting to her feet and strolling easily over to where Lena was examining the product of her class’ efforts.

Lena faltered, “I meant-”

“I’m just teasing.” Kara reassured, reaching out to squeeze Lena’s forearm in a half-apology that Lena could have sworn burnt Kara’s hand print into her skin, “I’ve done this for a while now. I did an interview with J’onn a few years ago and his model bailed at the last minute and I was here already and…” Kara shrugged casually like stepping in was the obvious thing to do, like kindness was the only option - which Lena didn’t doubt for a second was something Kara genuinely believed. “I like helping out where I can. And I just kept coming back…” Kara explained, clasping her hands behind her back as she took a tentative step closer to Lena, “I was never really sure why until-”

“Hey, babe, you ready to go?”

Lena’s head snapped round to see Andrea strolling through the doorway, eyes fixed on her phone utterly oblivious to the moment she had just trampled all over. Lena wasn’t sure whether Andrea was naturally such a good cockblock or if she practiced at it - regardless of either option Lena’s sexlife had vanished into thin air since she’d returned to living in the same city as Andrea. (Not that Lena thought that her and Kara were heading that way but Lena had been enjoying the hope of it at least).

“Andrea, you’re early for the first time in.... well, ever…” Lena snarked, rolling her eyes before glancing over to Kara, only to find the blonde had taken a large step away from her and her expression was far more neutral and guarded than it had been only moments before.

“Wait, we weren’t meeting at 4?” Andrea frowned, still not bothering to look up.

“Ah, so you’re not early, you’re over an hour late.” Lena remarked.

“God, you’re such a drama queen…” Andrea sighed, finally lifting her gaze from her phone, her eyes immediately alighting on Kara with undisguised interest. “And who is this?”

“Andrea, this is Kara the model for our life drawing classes.” Lena introduced taking a protective step in front of the blonde, an action that did not go unnoticed by the other two occupants in the room. “Kara, this is my supposed best friend who is regularly trying to lose that title.”

“Oh, best friend?” Kara repeated; the familiar brightness from before returning to her expression as she looked excitedly between the two friends.

“Yes.” Lena answered, smiling shyly at Kara and immediately forgetting Andrea’s existence, let alone presence in the room.

“That’s great.” Kara grinned, blushing a light pink a second later as her hands fidgeted with her keys, “I mean… ummm…. That you have a best friend. My sister is my best friend, though I have other friends. I just mean that… friends are cool.”

Lena laughed lightly at Kara’s ramble, leaning closer towards the blonde without realising until Andrea appeared at her shoulder looking far too pleased with herself.

“Kara,” Andrea greeted, holding out a hand for the blonde to shake (Lena was comforted to see their handshake was quick, almost professional in comparison to the lingering touch Kara and Lena had shared earlier). “The pleasure is all mine.” Andrea declared, winking surreptitiously at the teacher - Lena instantly dreaded the upcoming girl’s night.

“Nice to meet you.” Kara replied friendly and sincere, before smiling softly at Lena and muttering a hopeful, “I’ll see you next week?”

“I’ll be here.” Lena reassured, watching as Kara nodded farewell to Andrea and departed, waving on her way out.

“Well…” Andrea murmured mischievously.

“Don’t.” Lena said sharply, holding up a finger to deter whatever torment Andrea had brewing. “Not a word. Not a single word.”

“Ooookay.” Andrea lied.

***

“You okay?” Lena asked tentatively, watching as Kara sluggishly slung her bag over her shoulder the pep to her step nowhere near as present as it had been last week.

They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the class even though Kara arrived much earlier to help set-up - Lena had been helping a student struggling with deadlines and a sudden crisis of confidence which prevented them from interacting. Despite being occupied, Lena had seen the fatigue weighing heavily on the reporter, saw how her impeccable posture dropped and how her students added weary lines to her expression in their artwork.

“I think you fell asleep on that stool for ten minutes at some point.” Lena murmured, brow creasing in concern.

“Pfft… what?” Kara reassured with a light-hearted wave of her hand. “Impossible.”

Lena arched an unimpressed eyebrow, “You snore. Quite loudly.”

“Oh…” Kara pouted guiltily, rubbing at the back of her neck, “My sister is going through a rough patch and I stayed up late with her last night.”

Lena’s amusement drained away to be replaced with soft, supportive care, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s doing better.” Kara replied, blue eyes twinkling at Lena’s inquiry that had them both ducking their heads coyly and sharing furtive glances. “I should get going.” Kara coughed out, though she made no move to leave.

“Or…” Lena began hesitantly, heart fluttering in her chest, “we could go for coffee? You should probably have a coffee before driving,” Lena rationalised, nervously stepping back from the blatant romantic line she was toeing, “you know for safety…”

“For safety.” Kara repeated carefully, blue eyes glowing with warmth, “That sounds wonderful.”

***

It didn’t take them long at all to settle into a comfortable routine.

Kara came early to the life model classes, helping set-up the room as they talked about the students' progress and what Lena was going to make the focus of the class. During the class itself, Lena no longer needed to flit as regularly between her students, they had learned the basic techniques enough to practise for themselves, now only requiring light guidance which allowed Lena time to either do some marking or her own art. Kara posed perfectly throughout, though Lena was becoming more and more aware of Kara’s still gaze on her as the weeks passed by.

After class, it was now custom for them to grab a coffee and go for a long walk around the university campus as they talked about everything and nothing. They would have been building towards a strong friendship if it wasn’t for the lingering touches, blatant flirts, blushes and wandering gazes.

Lena wasn’t overly sure why they hadn’t crossed that line, made that final move, but she found she didn’t particularly mind the wait. She was convinced that they had both decided that the journey was making the destination all the more desirable.

It became abundantly apparent, though, that Kara thought differently if their conversation after the class midway through the term was anything to go by.

“So do you not like my body?” Kara asked, quick and fearful, eyes looking down at the sketch Lena had done during class of a vase of flowers in the corner rather than of the readily available model.

“What?” Lena muttered in disbelief looking up sharply from her desk to see Kara paling considerably having clearly not intended to ask the question that she had blurted out.

“I… uh…” Kara squeaked, mouth opening and closing rapidly, before lifting her bare wrist up with a jerky motion and whistling in exaggerated surprise, “Wow, look at the time. I’m late for… uh… this thing. Work thing. Interview! That’s a work thing.”

And just like that she was gone - Lena wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a Kara shaped hole in the studio wall with how fast she disappeared - leaving Lena with a sinking, twisty feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she might have lost more than her regular coffee with Kara over that one interaction.

***

Lena had Kara’s phone number and they had taken to texting throughout the day; however, since Kara’s panicked question - which probably revealed some deep vulnerability in the blonde - there had been complete and total radio silence. No memes, no cute animal pics, no sweet check ins… Lena’s phone remained silent when it once vibrated with life.

Lena wanted to text or call Kara the second she had left the studio but Lena didn’t feel like this was a conversation they could have over text, so she waited impatiently for them to be face to face again, counting down the days until the next class.

Lena even took to repeatedly checking in with the admin office to confirm that Kara hadn’t pulled out of modelling; reaching the stage where Jess, the most senior admin in the team, had taken to emailing her every couple of hours to reassure her that Kara still hadn’t cancelled.

When Kara appeared, nervously stepping into the art room, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, it was like Lena could finally breathe easy again. The fear and loss eeking away in an instant, giving Lena the necessary courage to stride forward and bare herself in a way that Kara had been doing every week without Lena fully realising.

“I don’t like drawing people.” Lena announced, shoving her hands into her pockets to resist the temptation to reach out to the other woman as the blonde blinked at her in surprise, listening intently. “It’s kind of a thing with me.” Lena winced, pushing down all the reasons for why that is. “When I draw something I… kind of let whatever it is into me, let it consume me and it… stays with me for a long time after that. It’s why I draw what I draw. I draw my home because it's a part of me already. Drawing someone means carrying them with me and… that’s scary for me.” Lena breathed, glancing at the blonde to see soft understanding in blue eyes. “I just wanted you to know it’s not you.”

Kara nodded, shuffling closer and dipping her head so that she could whisper into the still space between them, “Thank you.”

“Right,” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly before jerking a thumb over her shoulder, “I should-”

“Do you want to get dinner?” Kara inquired earnestly causing Lena to freeze in hopeful surprise. “After class, that is?”

“Um… Yes.” Lena replied, nodding her head eagerly.

“Awesome.” Kara grinned brightly.

***

Kara took her to a tucked away italian restaurant that was one of National City’s hidden gems. The food was outstanding and the company was even better.

It wasn’t a date, but it wasn’t just friends going out for dinner either.

Lena would call it a test-run but that would imply that Lena wasn't already one hundred percent certain that she wanted an actual date with Kara. It was more of a date-appetiser if Lena was going to call it anything, a taste to build interest before the real thing.

Once they had finished their food, Kara didn’t hesitate to interlace their fingers as they went for an evening stroll around a nearby park, both wishing to prolong their time together.

“Can I see your art?” Kara requested; they had been sitting on a bench in front of a lit-up fountain for the last twenty minutes or so in comfortable silence. Lena had expressed an interest in sketching the fountain and Kara hadn’t hesitated to find them a seat and encourage Lena’s desire without complaint, occupying herself with people-watching in the meantime.

“I’m pretty sure the images are all over the internet.” Lena replied drolly.

“Yeah, I know it’s just…” Lena’s pencil froze in it’s movements finally noticing how hard Kara was trying to act casual, “what you said about it being a part of you, I thought-”

“You want me to show it to you…” Lena inferred, setting her pencil down and closing her handy sketchbook in an instant.

“It’s stupid, I’ll-” Kara laughed awkwardly, shaking her head in an attempt to brush over the request like it wasn’t a big deal

“I don’t have many pieces here in National City,” Lena said thoughtfully, getting to her feet and holding out a hand for Kara, “but I have some works in progress that I can show you… if you want that is?”

“I would love that.” Kara beamed, jumping to her feet as Lena tugged her back towards her campus studio, already picking out her favourite pieces in her mind that she wanted to share with the blonde.

***

Lena and Kara’s ‘friendship’ continued to blossom into something neither could have anticipated that day Kara sprinted into the studio all those weeks ago. The weekly class they shared was now always followed by dinner, taking it in turns to share their favourite cuisines and restaurants. They had also grown beyond only seeing each other on their allotted class day, sharing lunches and movie nights and spontaneous coffees as they learned each other's schedule and needs.

Lena read all of Kara’s articles and spent many an evening asking countless questions about the background to each of them. Likewise, Kara would appear for coffee with one of Lena’s artworks saved in her phone, burning with curiosity about what had inspired it.

Time spent with Kara flew by and, before Lena knew it, it was the final class prior to spring break. Her last class with Kara until the next school year and Lena was finally ready.

She had finally figured it out.

Why she had waited.

Why she had yet to seize the numerous opportunities to transition her relationship with Kara into a romantic one.

It was because she knew.

She knew from the second that she had taken Kara’s hand in hers when they first met that this was it. That Kara was it.

And that was, and still is, terrifying.

When they had first met, Lena hadn’t been ready for Kara. Hadn’t been ready for everything that Kara represented and would come to mean. She had needed the time, the time to lower her guard, to trust and hope.

And now, she was ready and she knew exactly how to let Kara know.

The class came to an end with Lena giving her students a quick speech on how proud of their progress she was and wishing them a good spring break. Kara lingered behind as was now custom, helping Lena tidy up the area before they headed out together.

“Kara?” Lena called out nervously, sweaty palms rubbing against her black denim covered thighs as her heart beat thunderously in her chest. “I was wondering…” Lena began, clearing her throat as Kara stopped what she was doing to give Lena her undivided attention. “Can I… can I draw you?”

Kara’s brow instantly furrowed in confusion, “I thought-”

“Yeah…” Lena laughed shyly, staring into deep blue eyes, practically begging for Kara to understand what she was really saying. “Can I?” Lena repeated.

Kara pursed her lips thoughtfully as she studied Lena’s expression - it was then Lena realised that Kara understood exactly why they had been waiting. Kara wasn’t replying because she wanted to check that Lena was sure, was giving Lena a chance to delay, was saying - without really saying it - that she could wait longer.

Lena didn’t take the escape Kara offered, instead she lifted her head higher and arched an eyebrow at the blonde.

A thousand-watt smile of excitement took up residence on Kara’s face as she nodded eagerly, “Of course.”

“Clothes on.” Lena clarified - she had promised herself that the first time she truly studied Kara’s body it would be in a setting where touching would not break any professional standards.

***

Lena had Kara sit opposite her in her private studio, their knees pressed tightly against one another providing a warm point of contact to keep them grounded. Lena’s gaze flickered from her sketchpad to Kara’s features; occasionally, she would reach out to adjust a lock of golden hair so it caught the light. Kara, meanwhile, had an ever constant soft smile that didn’t diminish for the entirety of the session even as she was forced to rein in her boundless curiosity to stop herself from sneaking a peek at Lena’s sketch until it was ready to be revealed.

Lena only drew Kara’s head because, though, she had spent countless hours in the presence of Kara’s naked body over the course of the last few weeks - when Lena thought of Kara (really thought about her in the way that made her heart skip), it wasn’t her abs or her biceps that Lena pictured (though she did think about them regularly when she was in her bed alone at night).

It was Kara’s eyes that Lena thought about most.

How they were so bright and hopeful whilst simultaneously melancholic and lost.

There were whole galaxies in those blue eyes and Lena knew that she could spend the rest of her life drawing them and never get bored, nor get them exactly right.

“What do you think?” Lena asked, slowly turning her sketchbook round for Kara to see.

It wasn’t finished. It was mere line work that would require further detailing but it was a good start and she hoped Kara could see its potential like she did with everything else in the world - like she did with Lena.

“It’s…” Kara began, licking her lips as she pulled the sketchbook closer to her chest like it was something treasured and infinitely rare. “It's incredible.” Kara breathed, the sincerity of her words undeniable due to how they were accompanied by a watery film to her blue eyes.

“I like your body.” Lena whispered, shattering the companionable silence they had drifted into as Kara admired Lena’s artistry.

“W-w-what?” Kara stammered, head jerking up at the out-of-the-blue declaration.

Lena reached out for the sketchbook, lifting it out of Kara’s hand and placing it on the nearby table so that she could take Kara’s hands in hers.

“You asked if I liked your body a while ago,” Lena reminded the blonde, “and I just thought you should know that I do. I really, really do. I mean really.” Lena emphasised, glancing appreciatively down at Kara’s body prompting the blonde to blush a pleased pink. “But it's more than just that. It’s become more than that. Talking after class, getting coffee, going for dinner… it's the best part of my week. You’re the best part of my week.”

“Lena-” Kara began, her mouth suddenly snapping shut as her jaw clenched and her chin lifted in determination. Blue eyes studied Lena for a long moment and all Lena could do was hold her breath and wait.

Lena made Kara wait weeks, she could therefore wait the stretched seconds that Kara needed in return without complaint

Kara got confidently to her feet, tugging Lena up with her, squeezing their hands once before releasing her so that she could reach up to tenderly cup Lena’s face. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Kara declared, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank fu-” Lena sighed gratefully, cut off from offering up her thanks by Kara’s perfect lips sliding over hers.

#supercorp #supercorp fic #supercorp prompt

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

18 - Shoto Todoroki x Reader

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DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Event Masterlist - MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Angst w/ a happy ending

Requested by: @aris-818

(Feel free to ignore, but i would like to request todoroki with song 18. I cant get the idea of pinning reader and todoroki getting separated for whatever reason and promising to see each other again. Please take it in whatever direction you want, the idea of it made me start tearing up.)

A/N: Thank you so much for your request in the Sing To Me Event! I also fell in love with this idea and I had so much fun writing it - and, no worries, angst with a happy ending! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9K

You never knew how slow time could move when you were away from him. The clock seemed to move at a snail's pace and your writer's block wasn’t helping either. You huffed a sigh and turned your gaze towards the three panel picture frame on your tiny little desk.

In the first there was a picture of your high school class - everyone was smiling, even Aizawa sported a small smirk, in their graduation gowns. You spotted your diploma clutched in your hand and the dainty flower that was placed behind your ear.

In the second, there was a picture of you and the girls. It was on one of those late weekend nights when the seven of you had nothing better to do. So, you all brought your blankets and pillows down to the common room and made a pillow fort facing the T.V.. You remember turning on a fun rom-com, you think it was Crazy, Stupid, Love, and how much fun it was watching it with your friends. It just so happened that Aizawa was walking back from the dorm after he finished setting all of the locks back up - the dorm building almost became a fort itself due to the influx of security - and had snapped the picture of you all laughing.

Finally, in the third, was a picture of you and your boyfriend. It was at the 3rd Year Formal party, a desperate recreation of a Western Prom. His arms were wrapped around your waist and yours were around his neck. The spotlights from the ceiling were shining down on the both of you as you danced, reflecting perfectly off of your dress and his suit. And the way he looked at you, god the way he looked at you was stuff of dreams. That moment, so precious and dear to you, was captured with a single photo by Midoriya’s phone. You almost broke down in tears when you saw it, so thankful for him and his keen eye. Oh, how far away all of that seemed now.

You never wanted to go to England. While there were some incredible Pros who were currently stationed there, you were so completely content with staying in Japan with all of your friends, learning the ropes from the Heroes you were so familiar with and loved. However, when that letter came in the mail, your friends and family just couldn’t stop talking about it.

“Are you kidding me?” Ochaco had squealed in your ear. “Omigosh, Y/N! You just got an offer to come be a sidekick in England for Diamond Glove?! You’re so lucky!” Of course, your best friend had been reading over your shoulder as your eyes scanned through the handwriting. Originally, you were pretty pumped about it. However, as soon as you found the time frame, you shook your head.

“For four years? No way, I couldn’t.” Ochaco frowned.

“Why not? It’s a really great opportunity.” You sighed and stuffed the letter back in its envelope.

“Training with a Pro who I don’t even know in a country I’m not familiar with doesn’t sound like it’ll be that, well, fun.” You say, letting the letter fall into the trash can. “Just like you, Midoriya, and Sho, I’m going to find great opportunities here in Japan.” You give Ochaco a grin that finalized your thoughts, leaving Ochaco to give you a small one back. What you didn’t expect, though, for Shoto to find out. You had been in your room, packing up the last of your things after graduation, when your boyfriend burst through your dorm room. You let out a sound of surprise and then put your hand over your heart.

“Jeez, Sho, you scared me!” You say, breathlessly laughing a bit. The smile on your face dimmed, though, when you saw the seriousness of his expression. “What is it?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, raising his hand which held the letter you had previously discarded. You sucked in a breath and looked to the side.

“Because I’m not considering it.”

“Why not?” You looked back to him in shock.

“Why not?!” You reiterated, “Because that would mean leaving Japan, leaving our friends, leaving you for four years! I looked through it already too, there would be no holiday breaks, no weekends off, no time to come back and see you!” Shoto shook his head and stepped forward.

“You’re turning down this incredible opportunity because of me?” He mumurmed, his voice and expression downcast. You said nothing which only proved his point. “Y/N, you need to do this.”

“What?” You said. “Even after me telling you that I can’t even see you in person for four years? Shoto, I know I’ve never done it before, but long-distance does not sit well with me.” Shoto sighed and then looked away, dropping the letter on your desk.

“It won’t be long-distance.” He says, his voice almost a whisper.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your voice soft and growing more wobbly by the second. Your brain worked faster than your boyfriend’s mouth and it came to a conclusion that you didn’t like. “No… no, Sho-”

“I’m sorry, but you have to do this. I can’t hold you back from what will make you so happy and successful.”

“You make me happy!” You cry out, stepping forward to grab his hand. He takes it away though.

“I love you, Y/N, I love you. And when you come back in four years-”

“No-”

“I will love you just the same, just as I always have, okay?” You close your eyes and let the tears fall down your cheeks. Shoto immediately gets the message and quietly steps out of your room as your eyes are still closed. As soon as you hear the click of the door, you let your eyes flutter open to emptiness. Utter, complete, emptiness.

Finally, finally, you had your final report done. You scanned it on the little fax machine in your small, shoebox apartment and sent it off to Diamond Glove. Diamond Glove, or as you got to know him, Ito Kin, was a really nice guy. With a massive, muscled stature, he had a heart of gold and always used his quirk to either save people or give kids fun little souvenirs. But, as you got the confirmation and the farewell letter from the hero you had been a sidekick for over the course of four years, you found yourself feeling a bit empty. You had already sold your apartment and were set to move back to Japan, but you had found yourself tuning out the news that had come from your home country. Every time you heard the names of your friends, of your boyfriend… of your ex-boyfriend, you only fell down that hole of homesickness further.

You had all of your things in order - your suitcase was packed, your bag was ready, and you already had the cab waiting out front. So, you took one last look around the little place you called home for the last four years, and began your descent down the steps. The cab ride to the airport wasn’t too long and getting through security went smoothly. As soon as you got to your terminal and gate, you found yourself relaxing, but getting more antsy. What would it be like when you got home? Things most definitely changed, nothing stays the same. You let yourself doze off to those thoughts as you settled into your first class seat on the plane, courtesy of Diamond Glove, on the long, 11 hour flight.

“Passengers, if you have previously unbuckled your seatbelt, please rebuckle now. The plane will be descending shortly.” Your eyes fluttered open and you leaned to see out of your window. You could see your home city of Musutafu and it almost brought tears to your eyes as you started to gather your things, ready to hop right off of this flight and back into your home town. As soon as the plane touched the asphalt runaway and was docked, you were off. With your suitcase rolling behind you and a breath of relief, you walked right through the little hallway to remerge in the gate at Musutafu. The sunlight from the windows grows to be a little too bright, causing you to squint. As you take in the new building, all of the seats lined up and the flight assistant at their desk, you spot a figure standing there. You blink a couple more times, trying to rid the light spots from your eyes, their features appearing slowly. The person is tall, a solid 6’3 you think, wearing a nice pair of khakis and a button black turtleneck. In their hand is a bouquet of flowers, all of them happening to be your favorites. Finally, your gaze turns to their face. And tears start falling down yours. His hair is a bit longer, a bit sleeker than the last time you saw him. His jawline was sharper and he looked more defined, but his eyes were the same. They held the same color and the same love.

“Y/N?” He called out softly, giving you a small, reassuring smile. As you heard your name, you realized just how long you had been standing there, frozen. You let your bags fall to the floor and your knees sink to the floor. Your hands come up to shield your face as tears begin to waterfall from your eyes, your palms doing little to contain them all. “Y/N, oh Love,” Shoto coos, wrapping his arms around you, holding you to his chest. You took your hands away from your face and began to paw at his shirt, grasping fistfuls of the soft cashmere.

“I missed you,” you sobbed, “every second of every day.” Shoto’s hold on you grew tighter and you felt kisses pepper the crown of your head.

“I know, I know.” He murmured against the shell of your ear. Finally, you tore your face from his chest to look at him, his eyes. As he got a good look at yours, too, his hand came up to cup your cheek. They’re stronger than you remember, more calloused, but every bit as comforting. His face melted in pure love. “And god, I missed you too.” His eyes scanned over your face, trying to re-memorize every bit of it. “I know… I know that you must hate me for what I did-”

“I have never and will never hate you, Shoto.” You affirm. Shoto’s eyes begin to well.

“Oh darling,” he sighs in utter happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Does this mean we’re dating again?” You ask, a tinkle of laughter along with it. Shoto gives you a wide grin and leans into you, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You had missed that feeling, so incredibly so. The way he held you with such care, the way his lips brushed against yours with such passion… that, will never truly change. Not when you kiss him today, or the day after that. Not when you kiss him on his or your birthday. And not when he kisses you on that day, two years from now, as all of your friends and family are there. His kisses will never change, because his love for you will never change. They haven’t changed since he knew he loved you - when the both of you were 18.

Taglist: (Let me know if you want to be added!)

@luluwiie

@maiacroson

@nerdypuppytimemachine

@voilawind

@catguin-the-kitty-cat

@lovers-liability

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meruz · 3 years

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once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous)

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL.

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close.

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

#ask #trying this new thing where i tag people in the body of the post instead

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shingekinohyrulewrites · 2 years

Text

Unteachable

After a chance encounter at your town's Summer's End Carnival, you hook up with a hottie.

Only to find out he's your English teacher.

Just a reminder that this fic displays a teacher/student relationship, where the reader is 17. This sort of relationship is NEVER okay, especially given the power difference between a teacher and student. This is a clear abuse of power. So if this is a topic/trope that greatly bothers you, I would suggest seeking other fics out.

THERE BE SMUT AHEAD 18+ ONLY PLEASE

Read first chapter here

Read previous chapter here

The first week of school flew by, and you somehow managed to act normally around Kai in class. The two of you had planned out your first date, and he was set to pick you up at noon to drive over to the next town. Thankfully, your parents always were out on Saturdays to run errands, leaving you alone to your own devices.

You took your time getting ready, braiding your hair away from your face and applying light makeup. You settled on a floral print blouse with a low cut paired with some jeans and white sneakers. As the clock ticked and approached noon, nervousness immediately flooded your senses. You walked back and forth along your living room as you waited, eyes flicking over to the clock above the television.

Five minutes before noon, your phone began to buzz in your pocket. Jumping, you snatched it out before fumbling and dropping it on the ground. You quietly cursed to yourself as you picked it up and hit “answer.”

“Hi angel, I’m down the street. I hope that’s okay.”

“I’ll be right there!”

Kai had reminded you yesterday that you both needed to be discreet, and you assured him that he could rely on you. Sucking in a breath, you grabbed your bag, locking the door behind you before you rushed off down the street. Parked underneath a wide tree, Kai sat in the driver seat of the familiar Audi. Flashes of your first night together played in your head and you secretly hoped you could recreate the magic of that night. Smiling, you opened the passenger door and slid inside.

“Hi angel.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at the sight of Kai. He was dressed casually, which was a sharp contrast to his business casual garb at school. He wore a black T shirt tucked into a pair of dark jeans, accentuating the toned muscles of his arms and thighs.

“Hi,” you greeted him shyly.

He leaned across the center console to kiss you, his lips pulling up into a smile as he moved away.

“We best be off.”

Starting the car, he typed the directions of the bookstore into his GPS before pulling slowly into the street. His hand reached for yours, interlacing them atop your thigh. The affectionate gesture had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and you bashfully looked away out the window.

The car ride was silent except for the music playing quietly in the background. Your nerves were preventing you from starting a conversation, and you hoped the calm atmosphere of the bookstore would help. The GPS stated it would be a twenty minute drive, so you began coming up with conversation starters in your head.

The bookstore was located on a quiet street, a sign haphazardly hanging off that read FRESH COFFEE blinking slowly. He pulled into a parking spot on the street, turning off the car before turning to look at you. Smiling, he gave you another quick peck before slipping out of the car. You swiftly followed, scrambling to his side and giving him a soft smile. He returned it before grabbing your hand and leading you inside.

The coffee shop was on the first floor, with a broad staircase leading to the second and third floors that contained the bookstore. You two surveyed the menu before swiftly ordering and settling at a table in the corner. Smiling, he leaned on his elbows as he studied your face.

“Are you as nervous as I am?”

You laughed, feeling the tension immediately leave your body. It was a relief to know he was just on edge as you were, and you suddenly felt silly at your previous behavior.

“Yeah, I thought it was just me.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”

“Oh?”

A sharp pang of jealousy struck you at the thought of Kai being with other girls. It was stupid, you knew, but the thought just didn’t sit well with you.

“I’ve had one serious girlfriend. We dated the first two years of college. But things didn’t work out, and I haven’t been on a date since.”

“Wow, that’s quite a long time,” you remarked.

A worker came and dropped off your drinks before assuring you your food would be coming in a few minutes. They scuttled off, leaving you two alone again.

“I’m sure you’ve been on a few dates, being beautiful and all,” he said.

You laughed.

“I’ve never been on a date. I guess that makes this my first one.”

His brows shot up in surprise.

“Oh? I would assume the boys in your class would be all over you.”

Bakugo’s face flickered in your mind and you grimaced.

“. . . I wouldn’t quite say that.”

Noticing your expression, Kai figured it would be best to change the topic.

“Are there any books you want to grab while you’re here?”

You sat up, babbling on and on about your current Good Reads list and what books had caught your attention. He listened attentively the entire time, even as the food was brought and you continued to talk during the meal. Another worker came to clear your plates, and the two of you began making your way up the stairs. Your eyes went wide upon seeing the endless rows of books, with various signs pointing to the different genres. Kai slipped his hand into yours, giving it a light squeeze. You squeezed it back before dragging him down the rows.

The afternoon was spent stacking books for you to read and sneaking kisses in dim corners. He held your giant stack, continuing to be focused on you as you talked about each book you had grabbed and why you had decided to read it. He didn’t argue with you on why you shouldn’t buy a giant stack and, instead, offered to pay for the books. The two of you bickered over him paying, but he assured you he wanted to do it.

You ended up leaving with five new books courtesy of Kai. His only condition was that you let him borrow any of the books if he wanted, and you had happily agreed. As you walked back to his car, you realized you didn’t want the day to end and that you wanted to spend all your time with him. He opened the back seat, gently placing your books down before slipping into the driver’s seat.

“Do you want to go back to my place for a little while?”

Your previous thought of wanting to recreate your passionate night fluttered briefly and you eagerly nodded. Chuckling, he started the car before driving back to your town. The closer you got, the more your nervousness from before returned. Even though you had slept with him already, you were still self conscious and nervous that you wouldn’t be able to please him.

Kai drove past your street and headed towards the “Downtown” part of your town, where the majority of the businesses were. All of the apartment buildings were located there, and it was tradition that everyone would move to one after graduating high school and getting a job. He drove past a few of them before slowing down near a four story building with VIDA written on the front. Pulling down his sun visor, he clicked his garage clicker, waiting for the gate to open before driving into an underground garage.

After exiting the car, he led you up the stairs and into the courtyard. It was hip and neat, with comfortable outdoor furniture scattered about underneath bright umbrellas. A few people were sitting on some lawn chairs, dozing off in the late afternoon sun. He walked past a pool before opening the door to a building and holding it open for you. The hallway was silent as you continued to walk before he stopped at a door marked 120.

When you stepped inside, you felt your mouth drop. His apartment was incredibly posh. The living room was immediately when you walked in and was adorned with expensive looking furniture. On the patio, a hammock chair was on one side overlooking the courtyard. The kitchen was to your left, with the fridge and cabinets all a deep, gray color. The dining room was to your right, an exquisite chandelier hanging over a round dining table with four chairs.

Kai cleared his throat, causing you to jump. He removed his shoes and gestured for you to do the same.

“Sorry, I just like keeping my place clean.”

You swiftly untied your sneakers before removing them and stepping onto the plush carpet. Kai walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a water bottle. He brushed past you and walked past the dining table into what you assumed was the bedroom. Sucking in a breath, you gathered some courage and padded after him.

He was already sitting on the edge of a large four poster bed, legs crossed neatly. A large walk-in closet was off to the side, with a large bathroom nearby. Kai patted the spot beside him and you walked over before sinking down beside him.

“Wow, your place is really nice.”

Embarrassed, he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“My old man left me quite a bit of money. He paid for this place, and I couldn’t quite refuse him.”

“I would thank him if I were you. This is really nice.”

An awkward silence settled over the two of you. You were suddenly enthralled with the hem of your top, fiddling with it nervously as Kai quietly appraised you. He gave a quiet hum, which caused you to look up at him curiously.

He pressed his lips against yours, a hand coming up to settle on your cheek gently. You began falling backwards slowly, one hand reaching out behind to help you stay up. His tongue swiped out to lick your bottom lip before biting on it, pulling it back. You let out a moan, hands reaching up to pull on his hair.

“Lay back, angel, relax.”

Complying, you laid back, relishing in the feeling of his soft comforter. Kai was quick to hover over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. He was glancing at you with an affectionate look, pupils dilated in the soft light of the room. His hand reached down, tracing down your body until it settled at the bottom of your floral blouse.

“Is this okay, angel?” he breathed out.

You nodded, head bobbing quickly as he slowly tugged it over your chest and, eventually, over your head. His eyes grazed over your bare torso, stopping on your lace bra before he untucked his T shirt and yanked it over his head.

It was your turn to appreciate his figure, eyes focusing on his toned chest and abs before tracing lower to his hips and V lines. Noticing your gaze, his hands moved down to his jeans and swiftly unbuttoning them before pulling them down his legs. He was quick to work on your jeans next, removing them just as smoothly, leaving you in just your undergarments.

“Beautiful. Simply beautiful, angel,” he smiled.

He leaned down to kiss you tenderly, lips moving slowly against yours. His hands once again settled beside your head, his hips low as he slowly began to grind against your core. Whines bubbled deep in your throat, tumbling out and getting sucked into his mouth. A low chuckle rumbled from within him, and Kai slowly pulled away, one hand moving to your hip.

“Is this still okay?” he asked, finger hovering over your panties.

You nodded, and he slid them off, tossing them towards his clothes.

“Those are mine now,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your navel.

Shivering, you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on your skin. He slowly kissed lower, his lips dragging down towards your core. Anxiety began to build in your chest as you realized this was going to be the first time someone went down on you. Endless worrying thoughts filled your head (did you smell okay? Did you look okay? Would it taste okay?) as he got lower, pressing kisses and nipping lightly at your inner thighs.

Without any warning, you felt his tongue poke your clit. You immediately saw stars behind your eyelids, hips bucking up off their own accord. Kai gave another low chuckle, hands coming to hold your hips down.

“So reactive, angel. But I’m going to ask you to relax so I can please you properly.”

With that, he dove in, tongue circling your clit slowly while he slowly pushed in a finger. The sudden feeling of being filled while also having your clit stimulated was overwhelming, and your hips tried to buck up again. Kai’s hands were stronger, keeping your hips down as he continued with his ministrations. His tongue picked up the pace, its speed increasing until you felt an orgasm building within you.

“I’m c-close, Kai,” you gasped out, throwing an arm over your eyes.

“Come for me, angel,” he muttered against you. “I want to feel you cum on my finger.”

His words had you spiraling, an orgasm ripping through you as you moaned his name loudly. Your hips bucked up, thighs clenching around him to keep him trapped, licking and pumping into you. He kept on until your orgasm ended, your body collapsing onto the sheets. You were panting, arm still over your eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

“Angel, you okay?”

You gave a weak nod, uttering a quiet mmhm while he chuckled. With your eyes shut, you heard the sound of shuffling before you felt his hand gently touch your hips.

“I’m going to turn you around, angel. Can you do that?”

Nodding, you turned around until you were on your stomach.

“Good girl. Now, can you get on your hands and knees?”

Shit. He still had to fuck you.

Although you were spent you obeyed him, clambering onto your hands and knees. You felt the bed dip behind you as Kai knelt, slowly coming towards you. His hands came up to grab your hips, giving them a light squeeze.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly.

The initial stretch this time wasn’t as painful, but the new position had you slightly aching. He would push in, stopping to let you adjust as he breathed through his teeth. Once he was fully in you, he warned you he was about to start moving.

He started off slow, his hips snapping against your ass cheeks. You let out little gasps, hands clenching on to the bedsheets to help keep you upright. It didn’t take long before his thrusts picked up, snapping sharply against you. His hands remained on your hips, keeping you in pace as he fucked into you from behind. Low grunts and moans of your name fell from his mouth, and you responded with high pitched moans and slurred syllables of his name. One hand reached up to twist in your hair, pulling your head back to peer back at him.

“I’m going to cum into your sweet little pussy,” he panted. “You going to let me, Princess?”

“Y-yes, Kai,” you stuttered out, giving him a smile at how good he was fucking you.

He released your hair, hand going down to grip your hip again. His hands were gripping them tightly as he fucked into you faster, your ass hurting from the constant impact of his hips smacking against it. You reached between your legs to rub at your clit, but he slapped it away and did it himself.

It didn’t take long for your second orgasm to build, and you came together, moaning and uttering each other’s name. Your arms, exhausted from holding you up the entire time, collapsed under you, sending you face first onto the bed. Kai fell with you, his front pressed against your sweaty backside. You felt his breath against the back of your neck, panting as he tried to calm himself down.

“Sorry, let me get you cleaned up,” he said, voice tired.

You didn’t even respond, body exhausted from the whole ordeal. You didn’t register when he returned with a wet washcloth to wipe you up, and by the time he returned with a water bottle, you had already fallen asleep.

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #overhaul #overhaul imagines #overhaul x reader #overhaul x y/n #kai chisaki #kai chisaki imagine #kai chisaki x reader #kai chisaki x y/n #modern au #teacher student

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