#good luck with the images they weren't working for me earlier so i did a weird thing

[faeriedays]

“#i loooooove fashion stuff its so cool #especially good omens metas #like i can rant to you about crowley's costume designs all day long”

I’m listening 👀👂

Sorry it took so long for me to reply! I was busy writing this out all day, lol.

It's long so I'm putting a 'Keep Reading' for anyone who wants to back out.

So I'm not very good at explaining things and these have probably already been mentioned but here goes :) I also have images but I messed up their formatting (I do have image descriptions though, even if I'm bad at writing). Warning for probable spelling mistakes and if something doesn't make sense, I literally have spent all day doing this instead of homework and I am so excited that I might have missed something in editing.

Before we dive deep, I’m going to list off the bat the outfits I don’t necessarily talk about or use as examples all that much in this essay thing/rant:

I’m going to put the knight outfit here because I don’t talk about it in great detail here but it’s still amazing and I love it. It definitely plays in with the classic ‘all black, nice shape, cool texture’ package that you’ll read about later. He must’ve been so uncomfortable in this but he looks great, I also wonder if he had long luscious locks underneath that helmet 👀

I also don’t talk about his Original fit much, but it's still so slay. I like how Crowley is wearing dark gray and not just black in his beginning outfit, because it already shows that he’s not quite on the side of evil but a shade of gray. He never was on the side of evil…think about it, most of his outfits have some sort of color other than black, even if it’s really dark gray...

I think the Angel fit is important because first of all he’s adorable and secondly it gives us more insight to what his rank could have been based on his sleeves and collar. It also makes me sad because he’s just a little guy !!! Poor thing.

And though it’s one of my favorite things, I don’t talk much about the 70s fit even though he’s literally so handsome I can’t even. The shirt, the boots, the glasses, the moustache...I want to be him, he’s sososo gorgeous aughhhh,,,,, (I also think his big chunky watch is really funny lol)

Oh, and I almost forgot his pretty little turtleneck. This outfit doesn’t vary much from his other outfits, and also it’s possibly normal for him to be wearing this garment, considering he wore a turtleneck in 1966. I just think it’s fascinating how he changed his outfit for a fun little date with Aziraphale going around SoHo. That’s really cute of him. 

I also think it’s funny that the only 3 times he wears a turtleneck is 1967, this time, and his angel disguise. They’re his ‘time to be mischievous’ garments, because in 1967 he’s robbing a church, modern day he’s sneaking around SoHo with his angel, and in Heaven, well, he’s infiltrating it and going through secret files.

And as I was editing this, I forgot his Eff Stuff Up Jacket. He wears this in the deleted scene where he took down the phone networks, and idk I just thought it was cool. The fake ID card is great too. He’s doing it with style, he is.

Look at that beautiful demon right there. I love how his lapels point down towards hell when he does this, since he’s doing a hellish task. That’s really neat.

Moving on...

First of all let's talk about the color palette. This is kind of obvious so don’t judge me, but I absolutely love the colors that are picked out for him. Mostly black, yes, but also red (which I find fascinating as it is the contrasting color to Hell's green look and also the stereotypical 'devil' color), and sometimes a dark gray or an oxblood. I think it's just really cool because no matter how many different outfits, Crowley, like Aziraphale, has mostly the same colors.

I think it’s nice (well maybe not nice, nice is a 4 letter word…) how he has a more warm-toned, deep, rich palette while Aziraphale’s colors are more cool toned and light, complementing each other (as always, but you’d assume that the warm, caring angel would have more warm, full tones and the cold, aloof demon would have the opposite). 

I’d also like to add that since Crowley has his beautiful snake eyes, he’s likely dichromatic, meaning he can see in two colors, blue and green, but also that he could be colorblind to red (this is probably why Aziraphale dresses in blues, but it also makes me wonder about Crowley and his outfits; does he think he’s dressing in grays or a less saturated red?) Anyway, more images because he's pretty and I like colors :)

 His selective color palette means that a lot of what makes his outfits, well, his, is something else. This would be mainly texture. Whether it's scaly (like his snakeskin…‘boots’) or ruffly (see 1827 for a major example of this, just look at these freakin patterns omgomgomg) or an almost stripy texture (like the 1941 suit and Bildad’s fire fit), Crowley's outfits benefit because of those extra touches. They make his outfits stand out, especially with a ‘limited’ color palette.

In addition, he is often dressed in the kind of clothing that accentuates his height and build. He wears waistcoats that almost bring a cinched waist effect (and accentuate that pretty little waist of his!!! god i wanna see him in a corset so bad), and sometimes he wears vertical patterns/textures to make him seem even taller, which is especially fitting for a lean demon.

His shoulders are accentuated with either a puffy sleeve (see 1827 or 1601) or a squared off look (see modern day and various suits from time). It definitely gives a nice touch and affects his overall shape and appearance.

I also just wanted to mention in this section before I move on that I love how his lapels point up like little demon horns. I think that's cool 😈.

Okay this part is one of my favorite parts. Crowley LOOOOOVES to adorn himself. B U T T O N S (this mfer is addicted to buttons), serpent pieces, bows; you name it, it’s probably going to end up in his outfit. He is so fancy and with time brings even more ways to add glitter and glam to his clothing. And he isn’t careless with his accessories either; his extras line up with his outfit and instead of distracting from the rest of his garments, brings it all to a more composed, complex look while making it still look complete and not ‘busy’.

It’s also good to notice that he usually wears jewelry/metal that is either silver or black. Gold isn’t his color and he knows it; this is especially important because that’s a ‘heaven’ color (white, gold, light gray) while silver is more of a hellish color (silver, green, black).

The bows and neckwear:

The buttons !!!:

The snake pieces, the snake pieces! Whether it’s a texture, a silver piece, whatever it may be, there’s always something snake related in his outfit.

Another thing I find fascinating is the fact that modern Crowley wears a lot of clothes that appear in the ‘women’ section and things that would not be considered stereotypically masculine, but rather androgynous. He dresses like a snazzy little lesbian and I adore it. (Looking at those super skinny, too tight jeans,,,)

Girl you ATE.

I am now going to go on a tangent about the fact that Crowley is not afraid to dress in a way that would worry and/or agitate people. He plays with expression and probably loves when people give him weird stares. Whether he dresses in a surprisingly feminine way (see Mesopotamia, see the Crucifixion, see Ashtoreth), whether he dresses like a mourner (see Rome and kind of 1827 a little bit), whether his outfits go against the status quo (literally pick your poison), he is always doing it in style.

Images:

It's interesting for her/him/whatever Crowley wants forever to dress more feminine at the earlier two times, because it would be more customary for her to be accompanied by a man, meaning she's giving off the vibes that she's related to Aziraphale by blood or marriage. I think that's cute tbh. I also love Ashtoreth, she is SERVING, I love her hair, I love her vibe, I love how she was inspired by Mary Poppins. She reminds me of Mrs. Andrews from the Mary Poppins musical.

More images:

I didn’t know where to put this but I wanted to mention that Crowley in 1827 is dressed masculine but more flamboyant than Aziraphale at this time, and corrects pronouns/honorifics when Mr. Dalrymple tried to say ‘Mr.’ Nonbinary ICON right there I love them.

Okay now let me give a more fascinating and detailed example of Crowley being a weird little guy, Rome.

Oh, Rome. Crowley is basically dressed like either a dead guy or a tourist tbh and I think that’s hilarious.

The laurel wreaths are usually either for emperors/high class (which was probably what Crowley was going for after tempting one) or they’re in funeral portraits. The wreath represents your achievements in life and Definitely is not street wear.

His hair is definitely not in style with the military chic kind of vibes that were going on at the time like Aziraphale’s–no no no, his curls are more fit to be a lady’s hairstyle (if he’d grown his hair out ofc). 

The dark clothes definitely give a mourning kind of palette, but that’s relatively normal with Crowley. What isn’t is his weird shawl thing with the red zig zag that is definitely foreign and most certainly draped the wrong way.

He’s wearing a pin and ring brooch??? That’s definitely not from Rome. That’s more of a British Isles thing–this kind of pin and ring brooch is not from Rome. But it’s very weird because unlike the Romans, who loved snake jewelry as it represented rebirth and healing, the British Isles did not do snake jewelry. So where’d he get this commissioned?

Bro is so unfashionable, and he’s homeless, gay, has aids, and is new in town /ref new in town. His dark glasses are probably the only thing that’s relatively normal here, as it makes sense that his glasses could exist in this time period, whether they be from Rome or any number of other places.

✨Snazzy ✨

Which brings me to my final topic: his sunglasses. I love how they change to reflect himself throughout history. Of course he follows the latest trends in fashion and such, but I also appreciate his little spin on them.

Here are some of my favorite pairs:

So yeah, in summary I love Crowley’s overall design and how it suits him over the course of 6000 (or let’s be real, millions of) years.

What's your favorite outfit (and also can I have a freaking wahoo after this, I'm so out of breath metaphorically)?

PS: I bet you’re wondering, ‘well what about the angelic disguise???’ Well fret not, for I loveloveloveee the heaven disguise. It just didn’t make sense to group it with the things I was talking about earlier, so here goes:

He’s still in grey, which is nice, but it’s really light grey. He also is wearing a turtleneck, which I find funny. Perhaps this is because most of the angels don’t wear a stereotypical dress shirt, so it helps with blending in. His jacket, however, is specifically not heaven-like. It’s far too casual, and even zips up, which leads me to believe that this is supposed to be satire on how professional the angels are supposed to be. He does have the color-coding right, though; he has a white shirt under a darker color jacket.

His thick ass tie is hilarious. It’s bright, it’s flashy, it's glittery, and it would seem very suspicious and attention-grabbing to me if I were an angel. I also find it fascinating that he does this, as gold is shown to be not as fashionable in season 2 (I’ll be using Uriel as an example in a moment). I think he does this so that he can show how tacky angels are and how not up-to-date he is with them. 

Crowley’s tie:

Uriel (a very fashionable angel indeed) keeping up with the trends:

You can see in the set of images how the angelic fashion changed from copious amounts of gold to no gold at all. 

Finally, I want to talk about his other accessories. 

The headband is really silly, and it gives him a little bit of poof in his bangs, which ever so slightly mirrors him when he was an actual angel. The black with light swirls definitely gives off a tacky vibe. 

His glasses have lighter colored metal frames, which I find interesting too. 

And he didn’t dye his tattoo gold for this btw. He put a freaking STICKER of his tattoo over his actual tattoo. That is HYSTERICAL to me I can’t even.

Overall, the fit almost gives off a Y2K vibe to it. I think that’s interesting too because maybe that’s the last time before the Apocawhoops that he saw the Angels’ clothing? I dunno, and that would also be interesting because he usually tries to dress as modern as possible, maybe he's being a couple decades out of date for the funnies. Anyway, it’s working and it is hella funny. And I love Muriel’s expressions during this scene, they are not convinced.

So, in summary, our snakey boi decided to dress in the tackiest, most satirical way for his angelic disguise. He does not look like a bee in this beehive, he looks like a poorly-dressed wasp, hehe. I wonder how Aziraphale would've reacted if he saw Crowley's disguise...

(also, I didn’t mean for this to end up as a ‘Do you love the color of the sky Crowley’ kind of post, I just find fashion, especially historical, really fascinating and I definitely didn’t get all my words in but I think it’s more than enough for now)

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (03)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4

Note: OC is a lawyer but the author knows nothing about law except the three law subjects she took last semester. errors. ah. there will always be errors here bc english isn’t my first language. anyway!!! enjoy!

Jimin wasn't lying when he said you were a mess. This was evident to Jeongguk the second he stepped inside your apartment.

Pile of cardboard boxes and papers were cluttered all over the floor, causing him to feel uneasy. The faint colors visible in his eyes didn't help to calm his nerves. It was as if he suddenly became hypersensitive to his surroundings.

He assumed that your house wasn't really that untidy, but as stated, the colors made it seem like it was untidier.

"Hi there, buddy." Jeongguk forced a smile at the cat glaring at him. He remembered Jimin telling him that your cat was a bitch. The fury pet was making this strange, scary sound. Jeongguk suddenly wished you were here to stop the cat from attacking him.

He wasn't expecting you to lock yourself inside your room the moment you realized that he was your soulmate.

He was so startled by your reaction that his first instinct was to run after you. The thing was, your cat was blocking your bedroom door—stopping him from intruding your personal space. It was obvious that the little animal didn't like the fact that Jeongguk invited himself inside your home.

Jeongguk didn't know why you were hiding from him. In your defense, you were embarrassed. What were you supposed to say to your soulmate? How were you going to explain to him that the reason why you looked like a mess was because of your demanding job?

Being a civil lawyer was exhausting. One second you're negotiating settlement with the other side's attorney, then you would just find yourself filing motions in court and of course, there were many instances where you're standing before the jury and judge to present a case.

Expertise wasn't the only thing necessary in law. You also needed a great amount of empathy so that you could understand your clients. You cared for them a lot; this was why it was such a big deal for you whenever they choose to omit facts.

You hated it when your clients were being dishonest, you didn't need them to be innocent. You only wanted them to tell you the absolute truth so that you could properly defend them. It wasn't like your job was easy. The fact that most people living in your world see in black and white was already a pain in the ass. Earlier this day, you had a client who was suing a businessperson for selling fake whitening products. She claimed that she spent a whopping two thousand dollars to get that fair skin tone. Sadly, it didn't work.

The opposing side asked your client this: how can you say that the products don’t work when you can’t even see colors?

You were shocked to learn this. Your client was subject to a color test for eyes. She said she could see colors when in fact, she couldn't. Actually, the only reason why the vendor sold your client the whitening products was because she also lied to the seller. The latter's rule was that she wouldn't allow people who see in black and white to purchase her products. This was so she could protect her business' image from fraudster like your client.

Things like this often happened in court. The one you encountered were usually easier to resolve, unlike what criminal lawyers face. This, however, didn't mean your job should be taken lightly.

What happened in court today actually took a toll on you. Your boss humiliated you in front of your colleagues, saying that he couldn't believe an experienced lawyer like you would make such rookie mistake. This made you feel like a loser that's why you decided to go home early to rest. You knew you couldn't work when your heart was this heavy.

You ran yourself a bath the moment you reached your apartment. Jimin was bombarding your phone with text messages to remind you that Jeongguk, a friend of his, was going to drop at your place later today since he was interested to be your roommate.

You simply replied 'Yes, I haven't forgotten. Stop pestering me,' to your best friend. Truthfully, Jimin hadn't shut up about this guy named Jeongguk since last week. He kept telling you that he was the perfect replacement for Seulgi, your former roommate.

You just shrugged it off. Honestly, you didn't care if Jeongguk was the perfect roommate or not. At this point, you would take anyone in. You seriously needed someone who could help you with the household chores.

The warm water grazing your skin made you feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you're off to dreamland; however, your little slumber was disrupted by loud knocks coming from your front door.

"Shit!" Your eyes went wide upon realizing that your supposed to be new roommate was already at the door. As if to confirm the horror, your phone rang.

Jimin was calling.

"Where the hell are you? Jeongguk is in front of your door!"

"I know. I'm so sorry! I fell asleep." You got out of the tub, hurriedly putting on your bathrobe.

"Talk to you later!" You ended the voice call, rushing towards the door. Unfortunately, you slipped on the wet floor.

You whined in pain. Luck was truly not on your side today, but instead of getting annoyed, you simply stood up and went your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking so I slipped down the floor and I..." You were already blabbering right after opening the door. You hadn't seen your future roommate's face because it was easier to lie without looking at someone in the eyes.

You didn't know why you told him you heard his first knock, when in reality, you didn't. You guessed you just hated disappointing people. What happened with your boss today was something you couldn't let to be repeated again. You couldn't bear to irritate another person.

You kept yourself busy as you reasoned out. You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jeongguk to see his reaction.

It was like the world stopped.

No. You did not see colors instantly. What you felt was something strange—mystical perhaps. It was just like how they described it in books and movies.

You thought people were exaggerating about what they claimed they felt when they met their soulmates.

Apparently, they were not.

You know the feeling of finally seeing the rainbow after the strong storm? It was like that. Except this was way better. Your young self was probably rejoicing now. Being able to meet and look in your soulmate's eyes was dazzling.

The colors were becoming visible now, it was faint—this was in contrast to the embarrassment you were feeling.

You suddenly became very self-conscious with what you looked like. You were wrong. Your young self wasn't that happy because she wasn't expecting to meet her soulmate like this.

You were aware that you looked awful. The bags under your bloodshot eyes were probably so deep. The soap suds in your hair made you appear ridiculous. The most horrifying of all? You were wearing a bathrobe designed with the face of your favorite cartoon character.

"Uh—"

You ran away, locking yourself in your room before Jeongguk could finish what he was about to say.

Your heart was beating so fast as you stared in the mirror. The disgust you felt intensified. God. You looked horrible. You mentally cursed the brand of the mascara you were wearing. So much for claiming to be smudge proof! Curse yourself too because this wouldn't happen in the first place if you only refrained from crying over your boss' mean words, but it seemed like you never learned. You just scolded yourself from crying easily, but here you were, tears were painting your cheeks once again.

"No..." Your lips quivered. You were stronger than this. You weren't going to ruin your chance with your soulmate.

Determined, you quickly changed into a sage dress. Your hands were trembling because of your new found excitement. You loved colors ever since you were a kid. The fact that you couldn't see them didn't stop you from learning its meaning. You studied good color combination before. You were aware how to aesthetically match the hues. For instance, you knew that you would look ridiculous if you wore a neon green shirt and bright pink jeans. You were always careful in choosing what to wear, so now that you could finally see colors without referring to your color palette generator, you were beyond happy.

When you looked decent enough, you decided to finally face your soulmate. The first thing you saw as you opened your bedroom door was Jeongguk sitting on your couch—this was a very shocking scene. No. You weren't surprised because he was casually plopped down on your sofa, what you didn't expect was to see Miri, your bitch of a cat, to be so comfortable on Jeongguk's lap. Your pet looked at peace; the usual hiss she was making was replaced by a silent purring. Her bambi eyes mirrored your soulmate's same big, doe eyes.

You cleared your throat to get Jeongguk's attention.

"I let myself in, I hope you don't mind." You couldn't decipher what he was feeling. Jeongguk's voice was soft, but there was no hint of emotion there. His expression was also unreadable.

Jeongguk tore his gaze away from you when he realized that you were staring. As if this wasn't already awkward for him, you went on to say something that made him more uncomfortable.

"I've been waiting so long to meet you! Are you going to move in with me now?" You plopped down beside Jeongguk, squeezing your body between him and the arm of your sofa. Miri hissed since she was astounded by your sudden action. Actually, Jeongguk was surprised too. Your couch was pretty spacious; he didn't understand why you had to press yourself beside him.

Jeongguk also didn't know why you sounded so hopeful. The sparks in your eyes caused him to scowl; however, this didn't stop you from speaking your hopeless thoughts.

"We could do a lot of things together! I had planned everything since I was young!" You giggled. You didn't know why you were so comfortable telling him things. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you two were soulmates.

However Jeongguk was confused with your weird idea of wanting to do all of this romantic stuff with him. The uneasiness he felt couldn't be contained anymore when you abruptly talked about dating—as in dating him.

"Whoa, whoa..." He cut you off, arching his brow and moving away from you. "Slow down, will you? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." You blushed, immediately realizing that you had gone too far. "I'm sorry I got carried away. I was just excited to meet you." You couldn't help but beam at him.

Jeongguk continued to raise his brow at you.

"Why? Are you really that desperate to find a roommate?"

It was your turn to raise a brow at him.

"N-No, I just..." You breathed in, unsure of what to say. "I'm just happy to finally meet my soulmate."

"Soulmate?"

You flinched because of the bitterness in his voice. His innocent eyes turned dark, he was glaring at you. Miri was startled once more. She jumped on your lap because she was getting scared of Jeongguk.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I don't believe in soulmates." The word 'soulmate' sounded so rough coming from him, making you flinch again.

Many people had told you that you were good at gauging the feelings of other people, this was why your heart skipped a beat when you saw pain and anger crossed Jeongguk's feature. It was as if he was betrayed by someone.

"It's the most absurd thing I've heard in my entire life. Only stupid people believe in soulmates. I mean—" Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He was so annoyed that he didn't even know how to express his thoughts without breaking apart. "It's limiting the possibilities for people. Why am I required to fall in love with someone I barely know? Why should I leave the person I truly love just because a person meant to be the love of my life," he paused, quoting the words love of my life in the air. "Helped me see colors? It's like forcing me to do something I don't—no, I can't do. It's such a burden. Love can't be bought. I refuse to be with people just because they helped me."

There was silence after Jeongguk's long speech of the reasons why he didn't—or as what he claimed—couldn't love you.

Jeongguk wetted his bottom lip. The silence was making him hate himself. He hated himself because he saw the tears forming in your eyes, an obvious sign that you were hurt because of what he said. But most importantly, he hated you.

It was unlikely of him to hate someone he just met—or to simply hate anyone at all, but everything about you was making him mad as hell.

He hated your hopeful eyes, he hated your beliefs, he hated that you were the person hindering him from being with Red.

He knew it was unfair to blame you since Red chose to leave on her own, but he still couldn't help himself because the idea of soulmate was what urged her to leave.

You were Jeongguk's soulmate and for him, it meant nothing. So with a furrowed brow, he stared hard at you as he said this:

"I'm making you choose right now. Either accept me as Jeongguk, your tenant or Jeongguk, your soulmate. But just so you know, I will never stay with you if you treat me like a soulmate."

His word stung, though you were aware that the only way to make him stay was to choose the former option. At least this way, you got to be with your soulmate.

The colors you see were starting to fade away and it was okay...

[mmilkbreadd]

Chapter thirteen: “Owls, Cats and Swans”

Masterpost - Prev - Next

(These links might not work, so I recommend you to enter my profile and look in the pinned post for new updates)

Warning(s): a bit longer than usual.

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Despite being a small market, you were able to get all the ingredients for the strawberry cake: eggs, flour, sugar, and, obviously, strawberries. The smell of them was exquisite, and they seemed of good quality too. 

Bokuto was already waiting for you at the entrance, where you had to pay for the products you bought for lunch. Besides the ingredients, you also wanted to buy a common sandwich, just like Koutarou.

“Woah, I didn't know you had a big stomach” Bokuto said looking at everything you were carrying between your hands. “Now I admire you more than ever!”

Shaking your head, you rested your purchases on the table where the cash register was located.

“No, Bokuto-san,” you said, taking your wallet out of the bag that had “Shiratorizawa” written on it. “Ushijima asked me to make a strawberry cake, that's why I brought all these things.”

Bokuto mouthed an “Oh”. Then he took his wallet out of his bag and before you could pay the cashier, he pushed your hand slowly and handed them the money.

You couldn't even complain about his actions, because he was already interrupting before you spoke: 

“No, y/n, I’ll pay... With one condition” the Fukurodani player took the bags with the purchases and pointed to the exit. “I want to try that cake too. Also, you need a kitchen where you can bake it since I doubt that there is a public one in the hotel where you stay. You and your friends can come to my house after the matches are over.”

Friends. What a strange word to refer to the people who were by your side all week. 

Strange, but real.

After exiting the market and accepting Bokuto's invitation (since you hadn't thought about where you would bake until he mentioned it, and also as a form of thanks), both of you headed towards the gym again. But before entering, you decided to sit on a bench at the entrance to have your little lunches. 

While you ate, Bokuto would tell you about his friends and ask questions about your life. There wasn't much to tell him about you, but since he asked very kindly and with a sparkle in his eyes, you tried to answer him as best you could. 

“I never would have guessed that you liked baking,” he said after a few seconds in silence. “I thought you were “volleyball, win, no smiles, angry”.”

You almost spit out all your drink listening to Bokuto trying to imitate your voice. A small laugh left your lips after being able to swallow the liquid that was almost spat out.

Koutarou was really a funny person. Maybe he was a little crazy, but not the bad type. You had heard the rumors that said that Bokuto was “dumb”, but no, you didn't believe that. Rather, you thought he was a genius.

He was clear about things, he knew what was important.

“I think it's time to go back, I have to play in an hour and a half,” you said after looking at the time on your phone. Bokuto looked a little disappointed, but then came back with his energetic expression.

“Oh, what a shame! I was having a good time with you, but you're right” he said getting up from the bench where he was sitting. “I too have a game shortly. Maybe, with a bit of luck, I can see some of yours!”

After entering the gym, you guys parted ways to go with your respective teams waving each other goodbye. When you got to where Emiko was, you noticed that Tendou and Ushijima were there too.

When Satori saw you, he was no longer angry, but now he was hugging you saying “you can never replace me after this hug.” When you were able to get out of his arms, Ushijima and Tsukasa asked how you had been, then you proceeded to explain what Bokuto had offered you: go to his house so you could bake the strawberry cake.

While Emiko jumped with excitement and Wakatoshi just smiled wishing to taste the dessert, Tendou frowned, jealous that you already had a strong relationship with ace Fukurodani's ace the first day you met. Instead, it had taken him ONE WEEK to gain your trust. 

Torture much, right?

Finally, after finishing telling the news to your friends, your coach called you and Emiko to start warming up before the game. You left Ushijima and Tendou and joined your other teammates.

The warm-up lasted about an hour since the match that was taking place on the court where your team was going to play next, had ended earlier than planned. You carried the ball cart to the side of the court where you would start playing. The coach said to practice a bit more, before Rato High School, your rival, arrived.

The referee blew the whistle indicating that the match was about to begin and then both teams positioned themselves on the lines that marked the boundary of the court to salute. Your serve would indicate the beginning of the match. 

Screams coming from the audience behind you caught your attention. At first, you thought they were the usual ones, Wakatoshi and Satori. But after observing who was screaming, you realized that it was Bokuto. He had his arms raised in the air, swinging them back and forth. Beside him were Akaashi (as usual), and a boy with black hair, and combed up, who did not have any team uniform. You thought it was Kuroo Tetsuro from Nekoma, you still weren't sure since he wasn't wearing the red sports team. 

You looked at Bokuto and smiled at him, thanking him for the support.

Seconds before serving, in the silent gym you could hear:

“If I had been the one screaming, I would have been killed. The preferences are noticeable.”

Satori Tendou, he would never change. 

And neither would the team... You had won again. 

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When the four of you arrived at Bokuto's house you couldn't even ring the bell, since the owner had opened the door for you as soon as your feet landed on the entrance. Taking off your shoes before entering, Akaashi explained that Koutarou had been sitting by the window since they returned from the gym, waiting for all of you to arrive. Specifically, waiting for you. 

Kuroo Tetsuro was in the kitchen, which confirmed your theory from earlier: he was watching the game too. Nekoma had lost during the third round against Karasuno, while they had lost today in the semi-finals against Kamomedai High. He also told you that the orange-haired boy (Hinata Shoyo), who had been involved in your downfall the day they arrived in Tokyo, had a fever, which was quite influential in the defeat. 

After yelling at Satori and Koutarou several times not to touch the raw strawberry cake mix, you were able to put it in the oven to finally cook. During the anxious wait, Kuroo and Bokuto were asking about your years playing volleyball, and why now you hang out with these people; being that the year before, you were alone practically all the time. Even though their questions were a bit annoying, you answered all of them as you had earlier at lunch. 

Akaashi and Emiko were talking in the corner as they carefully watched the three of you. Tsukasa, in her mind, was cursing Tetsuro because he was ruining her plans of setting up you and Bokuto, by not leaving you alone. Meanwhile, Tendou and Ushijima sat in front of the oven waiting for the time to take out the cake. 

After a long forty minutes, the dessert was ready. Carefully, you took the cake out of the oven and let it cool on top of the table, despite Wakatoshi's requests, who said that he could handle a bit of heat. Fifteen minutes later, everything was perfect for eating.

The seven tasted a piece of the cake, while you watched the others for a reaction. Suddenly, Bokuto started crying.

“It's the best cake I've ever had!” he said before hugging you. Maybe he liked hugs too much. “Come live with me and make me these desserts every day.”

When he released you, everyone started thanking you and complimenting you on how great it was. Nobody expected you to know how to cook so well, but they didn't know all the years it took you to perfect your recipes. 

Two hours passed and there was no more of the cake. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. Including Tendou, who was the only one who didn't want to come because of his jealousy for Bokuto. But all good things must end. 

“Time to go,” Tsukasa said after finishing helping Akaashi wash the dishes. “We are going to be late if we don't leave now.”

Saying goodbye to everyone, they thanked you again for the delicious food you had prepared, and you thanked Bokuto for letting you cook at his house. No one had been dissatisfied.

Tomorrow would be the semi-finals, and the players from Fukurodani and Shiratorizawa would have various incentives to win and reach the finals.

And Tendou had one more day to accomplish his mission of making you laugh. Difficult but not impossible. 

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A/N: there’s an error on the National Tournament’s Twitter image, Shiratorizawa won 2:0, instead of 2:1. Sorry, it must have slipped!!────────∘°❉°∘────────

Taglist: @nataliahaslosthershit @softesyoongi @allofycurlove @iwaizumi27athletictrainer @quiche-inoya @lukeyaccount @melodiamore @bokutowo @aideen00

(tags in black are not working)

Thanks for the support!

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Thanks for reading!! 🥰

[acciocriativity]

The First Meeting ||Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x You

Summary: Your life takes a 360º turn when you discover that you are a witch and that you are going to study and live in a world completely different from yours. In the midst of so much change, you meet a boy who is feeling the same. 

 

Word Count: 2.4k

N / A: This is the first fanfic that I am posting on Tumblr, so it would be very important to me if you leave your opinion here and also English it's not my first language, if I made a mistake, I'll like to know and correct it.

 The day started rainy, which is not surprising considering that I am in England, more specifically in the city of London. However, I, as an immigrant from hot lands, consider rainy days bad luck, because something always happens wrong. 

And to my despair, today was supposed to be perfect. 

It was only a month ago that I discovered to be a witch and for my happiness, it has nothing to do with pointy noses and pure evil. Apparently the only similarity is the hats, since in the two moments I was around real wizards, I saw several people wearing them.

 My family, for the most part, being a completely devout Catholic, did not accept my new reality so well, not to say it was hell on Earth. In short, if I went, I wouldn't be able to set foot in the house again, as they weren't going to house a sinful witch. 

That bearded gentleman was kind enough to help me find another place to stay, while my parents would think better of it. Although I was unable to thank him or at least speak after being expelled from my home, or old home.

 

I've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron ever since, but because of the latest events in my life, I just went out to buy the materials. Being a witch had cost me a lot and I wasn't ready to face that until yesterday. It took me a long time to decide whether to go to Hogwarts or not, but now the certainty that I made the right choice was growing in my chest. 

 Right after having breakfast at one of the bar tables, I waited seated by the person in charge who would accompany me to Kings Cross station, where I was supposed to catch a train. I knew about it the same day that I discovered the magical world but only today I was anxious for that. I must admit that I imagined that we would fly, obviously all the stories lied to all the non-magical children on Earth.  

A few minutes later, a man in a turban appeared through the door and walked towards me, his expression showing no particular emotion when entering or even seeing me sitting, but what scared me was the fragility and fear in his voice.

- Miss Garcia, good morning, are you ready to leave? - He leaned on one leg while looking around worriedly. 

- Yes sir .. is everything ok ?? The bathroom is on that side - I knew it was inconvenient but I couldn't hold my curiosity as I watched his expression change.

- It will be a short trip but we must go now, to not risk losing the train, let's go - his posture was suddenly rigid and his face looked shaken but this time, I kept my thoughts to myself.

 At least he was kind enough to help me with the two suitcases, which were quite heavy due to the amount of books that were inside, I got some History of Magic extra books to learn more about that world. 

And he was not wrong, the path was fast despite the light rain and wet streets. We didn't talk beyond the formalities, I just found out that he is one of my teachers that year, Professor Quirrel and nothing else.

As soon as my feet took a step into the station, the man said goodbye with a nod and left to go his own way with a weird expression, but I didn't care about that for more than 2 seconds. 

I took a deep breath and started to walk following the small crowd of people who would possibly go to work in another city, since I didn't know the way to the platforms. Honestly, I didn't think it would work until I saw the license plate numbers, and I quickly hurried on, because mine was ahead. 

- 7 ... 8 ... 9 ... 10 ?? - I stopped walking at the same moment I realized that mistake, there was nothing between 9 and 10 - I don't believe it ... 

 I stood leaning against a wall looking around as if looking for someone, but in fact I wanted to find a miracle or at least an angel who could tell me what to do in that situation. 

Millions of thoughts crossed my mind within 2 minutes, most of them negative, until something drew attention out of my despair, or rather, someone. A red hair had just gone through the wall, it was so fast I could hardly believe my own eyes. 

Two more people did the same before I managed to close my mouth and walk over there, in shaky, uncertain steps. They hadn't noticed me and I thanked them mentally for it, because I wouldn't be able to pronounce a single right word. The good news is that they were certainly wizards, by the way they dressed and the most logical conclusion is that they would know the right way. 

 I waited for everyone to cross to get closer to that wall, I couldn't hear the conversation but I noticed that the right way to enter is to run. Again I took a deep breath and looked around to see if anyone was noticing me, with the station full, my answer came as a quick no. 

 I closed my eyes and ran about three short steps until I felt a sensation unlike anything I had felt so far. The stone wall seemed to have turned into a wind wall and I easily managed to get to the other side. I immediately opened my eyes after hearing the sound of a train and when looking to the side, there he was. The Hogwarts Express was written right in front of the locomotive.  

 It only took me 10 seconds to notice the difference, the clothes were definitely different and there was an absurd amount of children and teenagers, as I was walking closer to the train entrance, more people were showing up, in a way I didn't know how to explain.  

 The trip was smooth to Hogwarts, I found an empty car as soon as I arrived but soon the seats were being filled and I ended up sharing my cabin with two more girls, I soon noticed that they were sisters and that was the initial topic of our conversation. They were nice and helped me get into the current context of the wizarding world, explaining the basics about Hogwarts as well. 

- And he's here, the boy who defeated you-know-who's going to study with us! - the oldest of the brunettes spoke excitedly with a huge smile on her face. 

- One of my friends told me earlier that she met him in the hall, what is he like? - the youngest asked even knowing that none of us would know the answer. 

 This topic remained for a while, until they decided to take a walk on the train while I read, enjoying some quiet time. Honestly, I wouldn't like to be in this boy's shoes, not only because of the tragedies in his life, but also because of the amount of attention, comments and theories about him.

But I cannot deny it, I would like to meet him, who would not be curious after everything that was being commented on? 

 People got in and out of the car where I was sitting and I tried to have a decent conversation with everyone, but then when two older students came to tell us that we should change clothes, as we were arriving. I preferred to wait because a hurried crowd of students wanted to go first, so I ended up being one of the last to get dressed, but one of the first to leave the train. 

 All the way the view had been impressive but nothing had prepared me for the vision I had when I approached the lake, where we were supposed to go. It was dark and it wasn't raining, the moonlight reflected on the water of the Black Lake like a mirror and I was almost sad to see that we were going to cross by boat, because that image would be blurry. 

I could only see the outline of the huge castle on the other side, but it was enough to see all the splendor of that place and for a few seconds I was paralyzed absorbing the beauty of everything around me, until a voice brought me to reality. 

- Only 4 people on each boat, kids! - I glanced at the giant man, who was talking animatedly to some students, before I sat down in an empty space.

 As soon as we reached the other side, we gathered in a small group on the castle entrance stairs to hear one of the teachers. I remained behind and silent as I was paying attention, until I saw someone passing by and right after I felt a foot stepping on top of mine for several seconds. 

- Hey! Can't you see I'm here ?? - I said indignantly but as low as possible looking at the red-haired boy beside me.

- I ... I'm sorry, I didn't see you - he replied without even looking at me, his face turning as red as the color of his hair.

 I thought about replying but as the teacher was still talking, I just preferred to nod, accepting the apology. Only then did I realize that I caught the attention of two more students, a curly haired girl who cast a disapproving look at the redhead but smiled at me gently and at another dark haired boy, who noticed my gaze and shifted his look to the other side immediately. 

 It didn't take more than 15 minutes before we were inside that incredible hall, instead of a concrete ceiling just like outside, above my head was the most beautiful starry sky I have ever had the pleasure of seeing, with floating candles to complete the view. To my relief, it didn't seem like a common thing for most first year students, who talked quietly among themselves so I didn't look like an idiot admiring alone. 

We were instructed to stay in a queue, I had no idea what was going to happen so I was distracted looking at the stars, which never seemed so achievable until that moment. I wish I could go up there and take at least one, but it would be impossible. 

 We walked slowly until we stopped in front of the other students, who were spread out over 4 tables, my eyes never left the illuminated sky and as a result, I didn't notice that I was too close to the boy in front of me.

I got my first embarrassing moment of the year in less than 10 minutes, because I stepped on the cover of the boy in front of me. All the consequences of that went by very quickly before my eyes. In a second I was out of balance and fell, but that's not the worst part. I accidentally pulled his cloak back, the boy fell out of balance and fell with me, his back to me. It hurts, too much. No more than the weight of my humiliation and shame, but it still hurts.

 My face took on a pinkish tinge as I silently prayed that no one noticed, but that's not what happened. Today was definitely not my lucky day. I could hear half the room laughing and half whispering, so I knew for sure that I had made a big impression on people and a bigger one on the Hogwarts floor. 

- Sorry ... I was distracted - I spoke as quietly as possible looking at the ceiling and again at him.

 He didn't look at me for more than 2 seconds before looking away in that same direction and back to me again. His nod was minimal but noticeable and he soon stood up, which I had forgotten to do in those few seconds.

 What surprised me more than anything in the last month was his hand extended to help me, it didn't take me long to accept the help and so I got up and straightened my clothes trying not to show shock. This was an act of kindness that I couldn't expect from my brothers, considering how angry they would be in a situation like this, but other than shame, I couldn't see a hint of anger in his green eyes. 

- I'm really sorry ... - I said again, loud enough that only he could hear me. 

 The director had called everyone's attention, so most had stopped laughing although that redhead from before just stopped after the mini punch that the brunette gave him. 

- It's okay, it will just be another reason for people to talk about me behind my back - he gave me another small smile on the side but his tone was not the happiest. 

- And why?? I don't know who you are - I was curious because I had not met anyone important in the magical world until then.

 I could see a flash of surprise in his expression but before he could answer me, the names started to be called and little by little the children walked to the stool, where the hat was placed on their heads. After that he didn't answer me, no one else had the courage to say a word because they were very anxious to get their turn and also curious, like me, to know which house the famous Harry Potter would go to. 

- Potter, Harry - called the teacher with a serious but serene expression and a different look in her eyes. 

 From then on, the students' not-so-low whispers started again and I, who was already at the Hufflepuff table, could only be surprised to notice that the boy I dragged to my shame was actually Harry Potter himself. I didn't have the courage to look at him for more than 5 seconds, because again the embarrassment consumed me but this time harder. I only looked at him again when the Gryffindor table radiated in cheers and laughter as soon as he was drawn there and then our eyes met for the last time that night.

Harry Potter Masterlist

[sainadazai]

Chapter 2

There was a certain essence of security in the fact that one kid would be sent home today, still there was a horrible feeling inside you that you'd be the one leaving.

There was no reason for you to fail, Mr.Aizawa didn't seem to be singling anyone out, though.

That alone made you nervous, if he didn't have someone specific in mind, then it was free reign whoever would be booted at the end of the day.

Bakugou threw a softball more than seven hundred meters, you were sure your primary school record was less than 30 meters. With your quirk you didn't need dense muscle, it required lean muscle and mostly on your back.

Manipulating the state of matter in metal wasn't really difficult, but lifting it with your mind was.

Even more, it was especially hard to keep it in its semi-liquid state while you manipulate it. Cause many people have conjuring quirks, hell probably somebody in this class had a quirk that could make things, yours was just also limited to one specific material.

It took a long time to perfect your own unique fighting style. You didn't wanna be like cementoss, or Best jeanist, although they were great heroes.

Being a carbon copy of a hero that already has existed served no joy to you, you were y/n, and that's who the world oughta know.

Was that really gonna help you now, though? What were these eight tests he was talking about?

test one: 50 meter dash

Should be easy enough, why use your quirk on something you already excelled in during school. Y/n L/n - 100 meter dash - 12.67 seconds. It couldn't be hard to half that at least, maybe even quarter it, you wouldn't use your quirk here.

You really need to stop underestimating people, in your heat, the first at that, were Tenya Iida and Tsuyu Asui. The boy was well built, muscular, tall and his legs seemed to have engines in them. He was sure not a good match to make you seem strong or fast.

The girl had long, green hair and beautiful round eyes, she seemed to have some sort of frog hybrid quirk. Probably much faster than you as well. Not really the best time to second guess yourself, you already assessed this test. No quirk. Don't waste your energy.

Ugh, but shouldn't heroes go a hundred percent all the time? God this was infuriating.

"Go"

Well, there you have it, first day and you're already overthinking. Without letting your worry get to you, you sprinted towards the speedometer hoping you wouldn't get discouraged by the fast boy in front of you. The air flowed against you, pushing your hair back. You had forgotten about the tension air creates when you run against it, but it didn't matter. As quickly as it started you heard Iida's score, the Asui's, but you knew 50 meters was easy. You knew you were fast even without your quirk, you would prove it.

"6 seconds"

"Without a quirk?"

"What even is her quirk?"

"I don't know, she wasn't in my exam."

The others after you seemed to be faster than you too, even if by seconds. However, it was helpful to learn exactly what their quirks were.

Uraraka- zero gravity

Iida- engine

Bakugou-explosion

Knowing all this made you unique compared to them, because now, you know their quirks and how they work for the most part, but only a few even can guess yours. Maybe it won't help you too much now, but in the future this knowledge will.

Test two: Grip strength

Easy, this can be done without even touching that little machine, but sure, you'd give me a show.

"Woah, you hit 500 kilograms?! You're such a beast"

The boy with extra arms seemed to do well on this, you could obviously guess why. Still, you had no fear at all in this test. What were they thinking putting an object entirely made of metal and wires in your hand? Rigged in your favor to be honest.

You took the contraption in your hand, avoiding the eyes of the few watching you to see what your quirk was. Jokes on them, cause with this test, it'd take a genius to tell. Applying a decent amount of pressure from your hand, you began to feel all of the particles in the tiny machine, moving them closer and closer together. Pushing them down with each breath out. Until the machine beeped.

12,000kg

You almost smirked at that, you technically didn't have that much plain grip strength, but the teacher said use your quirk, anything goes.

"Twelve thousand!? No way!" the yellow haired boy spoke with astonishment, not anger, but the words felt accusing,

"sorry.."

The students were left dumbfounded. However, at the mention of such a high number, todoroki began to seek out your face, he recognised the girl who had tried to speak with him earlier. Looking at the floor and avoiding the quite obvious compliments, he couldn't help but feel it wasn't out of modesty.

Test three: Standing long jump

The ring on your finger would serve well enough for this one, removing it, you liquified the metal ring until it was a non-Newtonian liquid- or a liquid that is solid under pressure. It soon multiplied until it was around a foot high line of liquid metal, then you curled it into a spring shape. Jumping straight up you landed both feet on the outer edge of the spring and flew into the air launching it with you and quickly turning it back into a tiny ring around your pinky finger.

Then apologizing again as more questions floated in.

Next was repeated side steps, then ball throws. By then, the other students had acknowledged the uncomfort you seemed to have around them, and only admired from afar.

To others the ball throw seemed like the most important test, but it didn't really feel like that to you. Despite having some restraint, you wanted to be the best in every test. Well, maybe not this one, after the gravity girl sent a ball to infinity.

Still, you held the softball, all eyes on you, not feeling so shy, considering you knew these were supposed to be your friends, you wanted them to like you, more than anything. So you would just have to woman up soon.

You tossed the ball to yourself a couple times, feeling for any metal particles, baseballs were usually full of string on the inside, maybe that would work? No, too risky for now.

Feeling pressure to hurry, you took a quick glance around, locking eyes with the boy who sits by you. He still was stone faced, but looked a little intrigued to see what you would do. Was he curious about you? He was so strong though, you'd seen it earlier. Well, best live up to expectations.

No luck with metal in the ball, but there was plenty all around you: iron in your blood. Taking your pointer fingernail, you scratched a quick cut on your opposite palm, maintaining eye contact with the boy. His stiffness faltered for a second, confused and maybe worried at your actions.

Quickly you dragged your blood out of the cut in a thin, rope-like flow, wrapped it around the ball, and took a deep breath. Then you closed your eyes, just how you taught yourself to, and imagined the blood pulling the ball into the air. Arm swung back and ready you released the image along with a throw high into the air.

Continuing to focus on where your blood would take it, you imagine not a place, but a number, and a force. Applying that force to the blood and ball, long lost in the sky, you finally sighed out and looked around, waiting for a score.

Your peers seemed confused about what had just happened, all except for the red and white haired boy, he seemed to have caught on to some extent.

"1,609 meters"

"A mile, exactly? How?"

"Your blood? That doesn't match up with everything else you've done today!" A girl with recognizably large breasts and thighs spoke, she was gorgeous. Hair tied up in a black ponytail, and even her voice sounded sophisticated.

"Uhm-"

"If you say sorry one more time i'm gonna blast you to space, ya hear me!?"

The fire boy, Bakugou screamed at you, and you would have been scared, but it actually made you feel comforted. The realization that people here were not asking for your apologies.

"Yes sir." you winked.

Why did you wink? Did you forget you weren't talking to mochi? A yellow haired boy, whose name you thought was denki turned red and fainted. You felt incredibly stupid, and flustered, and mad at yourself for slipping like that.

"AAAaaa im so sorry, pleaseforgivmeidontknowwhatiwasthinkingwinkingayoulikehatwhenyoubarelyknowmeohnopleasedonthatemenowimsorryimsorrymochiwillyellatmelater!" you screeched out, falling subject to your now loose personality.

Then you went to hide among the crowd of them, slowly shrinking in on yourself.

The next one up was the green haired boy, Deku? That's what bakugou called him, right? You didn't know you were standing next to shouto todoroki, but he sure knew he was standing next to you.

He wanted to confirm his suspicions about your quirk, and also he subconsciously wanted to know what a conversation with you would be like. You didn't seem too eccentric, or obnoxious like some of the kids here. Plus for some reason you were flustered at any and everything,and well, it was stupidly adorable.

Todoroki shouldn't be thinking these things, but he is. On the first day of school no less.

It seems, though, you weren't the star of the show today. He tore his eyes from you at the sound of your gasp. The boy who hasn't used a quirk all day had thrown the softball barely a few meters. So how did he get in? He seemed nice enough, but it sparked the question, how would someone quirkless make it to the hero course?

Or maybe he wasn't, it seemed, the teacher had nullified whatever quirk he tried to use. They were talking for quite some time, until Mr.Aizawa removed his restraint on the kids quirk and he was left to throw.

His lips pursed, deep in thought. Deku really had to get this one right. There may not be a better place to apply his gifted quirk. He really didnt wanna go home, either, so this was it.

Blinking, he thrust his hand back and before you could process what was happening an incredible force of wind flew back on you. The ball launched high into the air, a trail of pure power following it. You didn't take your eyes off that ball until it dropped. A puff of dirt flying up around it.

705.3

So you looked back to the boy, eyes wide just like everyone else, and your eyes found a bloodied purple finger. Broken in every sense of the word. Deku, though, was smiling, the brightest smile you'd ever seen. Proud. He was proud of himself. What could you be but proud of him, too?

You'd known him less than a day, spoken to him all but once, but his smile was pure. You used to smile like that when you were working out your quirk in the forest behind school. It was beautiful.

"Awesome.." you whispered through a smile clad lips.

Teeth white and shining under the sun, and todoroki heard you. Even looked down(or up) at you. He wanted to see that smile again from you, and for the love of god he couldn't tell himself why....

A/n this isn't a deku fic but I love him, and it IS his show, so- don't be surprised if i write about him like he is the most precious gorgeous blessing on earth.

[born-to-lose]

Sex Dream

Pairing: Rami Malek x fem!reader

Requested by anon

Summary: After a weird dream about Rami, you can't stop thinking about him naked all day.

Tags: smut, slight dom!Rami, blowjob, brief mention of alcohol, swearing

Words: 2,024

A/N: Okay, this one probably took me like a year or so and I'm really sorry for that, but here you are anon (if you're even still following me)! I hope it isn't too bad as I haven't written smut for a while. As always, feedback is appreciated ❤

Tag list: @warriorteam1924

Tip me if you want!

You were just walking into Rami Malek's trailer when you spotted him sitting on the couch, wearing his white bathrobe. He asked you if you wanted a beer and - hesitantly yet polite as usual - you said yes. You took a seat and Rami got up to get two bottles out of the fridge in the small kitchen corner, but when he returned, he was butt naked, casually sitting down next to you and handing you your drink. You knew you weren't supposed to stare at him like that, but you couldn't resist. It was fucking weird, but you weren't able to take your eyes off of him. He grinned at you and took a sip from his bottle.

That's when your eyes shot open. What the hell was that even? A quick look at the clock told you you'd have to get up in a couple of minutes anyway, so you decided to get ready for work a bit earlier than you normally did.

Thank God this was only a dream. You seriously wouldn't have known what to do if this had been actually happening to you. Sure, Rami was hot, there was no denying it. Actually, you'd begun to develop a crush on him, but it was only a crush, so you didn't have to worry much as it would fade away after some time. Still, it wasn't right for you - his costume assistant - to even let those thoughts that were buried deep inside the back of your head show. They were supposed to stay right where they were.

You had a strange feeling after this dream. Did it mean something? For every dream there was a background… In the time you had left before you'd have to catch the subway, you looked the meaning of this kind of dreams up on the internet and you were told that you were 'safely exploring the possibilities' in your case. Interesting. Why did you have to explore them through a dream you wouldn't be able to forget about all day?

On the set, you started to feel insecure. You wouldn't be able to face him for days without showing any kind of suspicious behavior. Unlike him, you weren't that good of an actor. How were you going to survive today when you still had to work with him? It was just your luck that Rami was the first person to greet you with a hug. "Morning! How have you been?"

"Uh good, yeah. How about you?" You tried to keep your cool and while you thought you'd failed at this mission, he didn't seem to really notice.

"I'm good too, thanks." God, that smile. The last time you'd seen that smile, he was sitting next to you naked and you were dreaming. It would never be the same anymore. Now it was doomed to always come with a weird aftertaste.

After you had a chat, you helped the actor get into his Freddie costume. Doing so, you found it incredibly difficult to look directly at him. He was like Medusa to you and that wasn't going to change until you'd get over this damn dream, whenever that may be. The difference was he wouldn't turn you into stone, instead a tomato if you'd initiate eye contact. Rami never brought it up, though, and that was a good thing because you wouldn't have the balls to tell him about why you'd been acting so strange today.

While every day at work usually felt much shorter than it actually was, today seemed to go on forever and all you wanted to do was go home and get the image of your naked co-worker out of your head. You had the picture in front of your eyes all day and you couldn't stop thinking about it. Not that it was a terrible image - quite the opposite actually -, but it was a major distraction from your normally so focused way of working. It was burned into your brain till the end of time.

When filming was finally done for the day and you had to assist Rami to get out of his costume, you noticed him staring at you as you fidgeted with his 'angel costume', as you'd named it. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, raising an eyebrow.

You jumped a bit and your head shot up as if he'd just told you something shocking. "Y-yeah, I only had a weird dream," you stammered, shaking your head. Poor excuses didn't work with him. He knew when you were lying, so you didn't even try anymore.

"About me?"

You looked down again after seeing the same cheeky grin you'd seen in your dream shortly before you'd woken up. "Actually… yes," you murmured in defeat, hoping he didn't hear that.

After he didn't respond, you noticed Rami staring at you. It was a look your friends liked to call eye-fucking. You were barely able to suppress a chuckle because it looked so exaggerated. Neither could you hide your blush. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I could ask you the same," he laughed and bit his lip. "You've been looking at me like that all day!"

Your cheeks took on a darker shade of red and you quickly helped him get rid of the top, turning away to hang it up. "I think I know what your dream was about, given your behavior today…"

There was a tone in his voice that you couldn't quite identify. You could tell that his voice was a bit deeper than usual all of a sudden… Lust maybe? What you couldn't tell was if he was still showing off his excellent acting skills or if he was being serious. The tables had turned too quickly for you to follow.

In an unexpected rush of confidence, you asked, "Well, and what was it about?" You immediately regretted it - until Rami stepped closer to you.

"It was a sex dream, wasn't it?" he rasped, sending a shiver down your spine.

Kind of? Not quite yet, but it was going to evolve into one. You counted it as one, anyway.

He drew his answer from the one you didn't give and smirked, his breath fanning over your neck as he whispered, "Knew it. Look at me please."

You hesitantly turned your head, glancing between his eyes and that smirk. "Y'know, I must admit I've had one of those too… about you."

It felt like your heart stopped beating for a second and without realizing it, your eyes widened. "Y-you did?" He had to be fucking around with you, there was no way he'd had one of those dreams about you too.

"Mhm. And you know what? I know you want it to happen in real life," he muttered and you already had a wet feeling in your pants without him even touching you in the slightest. "And don't try to lie to me. I know you do."

You hated that he was right and it was almost a bit scary how he seemed to be able to read your mind. The look you'd been giving him must have been enough confirmation for him that he really did know what you were thinking. So he put one of his hands against the wall behind you as the other was slowly creeping up your arm. "Will you let me hear you say it?"

You swallowed and nodded, "Yes… I do." If you'd said you wanted him to take you right here right now, you wouldn't have been lying, but you decided that was perhaps too much for now. You preferred to let him lead the way.

"Gosh," he let out a breathy chuckle and lifted your chin, subtly forcing you to keep looking at him. As if you'd ever take your eyes off that face…

With a brief glance at your lips, he leaned down to capture them in a slow and gentle, yet demanding kiss. You didn't hesitate to return it. Not when you'd fantasized about doing this so many times in the past four weeks approximately. He certainly knew what he wanted and that was you. You moaned softly when he slipped his tongue inside your mouth and pinned you against the wall, the hand that had been holding your chin now reaching up to loosen the scrunchie that was holding your hair together in a messy bun.

When you finally broke the kiss that suddenly felt so short, even though it must have lasted a least a few seconds, Rami's lips travelled down your jaw and to your neck. You didn't have to think to know the mark he was leaving would be perfectly visible for the next two weeks, but you couldn't care less that moment. It would be a bit embarrassing to walk around with it, but it was worth it. Worth getting a hickey from Rami fucking Malek.

"Please," you begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you embraced this moment. You weren't able to say much more, but Rami seemed to understand as he pulled away and dragged you over to the leather couch. You sat down, biting your lip in excitement.

"Enjoying it, huh?" he teased, taking his white trousers off and hanging them up along with the other half of the costume. When he returned to you, he hovered over you and placed his hands on the backrest, his eyes dark as he looked into your orbs. It was definitely over for you when he briefly licked his lips and waited a couple more seconds before leaning in for another kiss. But this one wasn't as gentle as the first one; it was a deeper and more vigorous kiss. A kiss that told you it was getting serious now. His hands were tangled in your hair and just when you were about to get really into it, he broke away.

The bulge in his boxer briefs was obvious by now and to be honest, it looked almost painful. "Okay..." It was only now that you noticed you weren't the only one with a flushed face. "Honestly, I didn't see this coming, so I don't have any condoms near," he laughed nervously.

"There's always the good old blowjob," you replied in the most casual voice you could muster, grinning a bit cheekily.

Rami smirked and sat beside you, proudly grazing a finger over the hickey that had already taken on a red color. "Sounds good to me if you're up for it."

You smiled back at him and kneeled in front of him, helping him pull down his briefs. "You're always good at undressing me," he joked, biting his bottom lip as he watched you get to work.

Despite secretly finding this comment kind of funny, it made you roll your eyes and glare at him to shut him up.

It had been pretty long since the last time you'd done this - or since you'd had a boyfriend, for that matter. That was probably what made it feel more hazardous than it would have if you had been used to giving blowjobs. It surely wasn't something you did every day. You assumed you were good nonetheless because Rami's grip on your hair was steadily tightening and the moans that escaped his lips every now and then were definitely a result of pleasure. In between he praised you, murmuring, "God, you're doing so well" and other encouraging words that motivated you even more.

Once in a while when you glanced up at him, he threw his head back, quietly moaning, "I'm close." That was enough for you to go even harder, trying to push him over the edge. You felt a sharp pull on your hair when he came and to avoid making a mess, you swallowed. As you pulled your mouth away and sat back on your knees before getting up onto the sofa again, you breathed, "I'm not that type of girl, you know?"

You grabbed a tissue from the coffee table to wipe your chin and mouth as Rami slowly came back to his senses. He smiled tiredly and leaned his head against your shoulder, sighing. "I know."

[bbrandy2002]

Two Men and a Baby Part 9A-The Final Part.

This chapter took on a life of itself and is quite long, so I divided it up in two parts again. I will release the second part later today.

I put everything into this chapter, so, I hope it meets your expectations, because it is WILD 😂

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Warning: YOU WILL LAUGH A LOT!! Also, there's profanity.

@emceesynonymroll

@gardeningourmet @dcbbw @crookedslimecreatorpasta @moonlightgem7 @katedrakeohd @sirbeepsalot @romanticatheart-posts @carabeth @ladyangel70

I do not own any of these characters...borrowing from Pixleberry.

[[Read more]]

Post 9A-Finale

He looked at her and uttered, "I'm sorry".

She replied with a soft smile, "I'm not".

Drake closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "but, what about Liam?"

"Drake, my husband never took the time to touch me like you did last night; trust me, I'm not worried about what Liam thinks."

"Yeah, last night sure was crazy."

10 hours earlier....

The press had gotten news of Bertrand's debacle and descended onto the gravel road that led through the Stormholt Vineyards.

Bertrand was still inside and the crews that weren't working the Beaumont Estate standoff were assigned to the Beaumont Zipper-gate send off. Firemen were busy working the jaws-of-life on the roof of the carriage; meanwhile a helicopter life squad was waiting in the air. 

Bertrand was unable to close his legs and crewman concluded this would make it difficult to get him through the door. Once the roof had been lifted off, the helicopter got into position over the carriage.

Penelope had exclusive access to all the action. Being friends with Savannah paid off in this situation. Penelope offered Savannah a ride to the hospital in exchange for moment by moment, upclose coverage.

"Yes folks, Penelope here with all the action. Right now, the medical helicopter is lowering a harness down into the carriage with the assumption, the Duke will be raised out and transported to the emergency room immediately.....this is so awesome, lets watch".

Two fire rescuers climbed inside the carriage and carefully cut the legs of Bertrands pants; they wanted to make access to his "area" a little easier for the flight medics.

"Alright Your Grace, we have to place this harness through your arms and strap it around your chest. We assure you this is very sturdy and you will not fall okay?"

Bertrand nodded, but, didn't speak. He wanted to, but, what was there to say. In just mere moments, he would be lifted out of this carriage and would ascend into the sky, practically naked. He was aware the press was waiting outside. He was also aware that he would be front page news, right next to a damn boar. He closed his eyes and the image of Maxwell was so vivid in his mind. He knew he bought a "pig" yesterday, but, was he really that stupid to mistake it for what it really was, a wild boar. Bertrand concluded, he is.

When Maxwell was 10, he traded Pokemon at school with Neville Vancouer. Neville told Maxwell he had a hamster that he would give Maxwell for his rare holographic shadowless first edition Mewtew, Pokemon card. Neville got the card and Maxwell unknowingly got a rat.  The rat had babies and the infestation was horrific. The vineyards behind the estate were nearly wiped out. Bertrand found one in his bed, just before climbing in, mating with another. When Bertrand brought his first girlfriend home, she left the estate in tears after one jumped on her just before he was getting ready to clear second base. The town was affected, as crops after crops were destroyed. Barthelemy Beaumont paid a heavy price in lawsuits and clean up that year; his families financial troubles began in that moment. It took Maxwell's tell-all book to bring them out of their woes. Bertrand would be appreciative of that fact, if it weren't for him telling people in his book that Bertrand gets bi-monthly Brazilian waxes from a shady massage parlor owned by Duke Godfrey in Krona. That parlor has since been been raided and shut down.

Once the harness was securely in place, life squad gave the signal and Bertrand was slowly liifted upward.

"Hey fellow Cordonians, Penelope here again. I have just gotten word, they are about to lift the Duke out of the carriage. Yes, there he goes...up, up and wow, is his asshole as smooth as a babys bottom. His brother was telling the truth....good job Duke Godfrey and all the former employees of Adelaide's Massage and Dance Parlor. Oh, hold up guys, there seems to be some kind of mechanical trouble. The lift has stopped working....whats that? There's a malfunction?.....okay, so the lift has malfuctioned and they are going to go ahead and proceed on to the hospital with the Duke hanging below. Good luck up there sir, you're little naked butt is flying with the birds now! Okay, I am heading to the hospital now and will update you all as soon as I can. Penelope out!"

Bertrand was such a trooper, because, of course the lift malfunctioned; it would be wrong if it didn't at this point. He was sure that at any moment, the harness would break too and he would simply fall from the sky. With his luck today, he probably would survive though.

Riley, Drake, Olivia and Maxwell were watching the events unfold on TV from the waiting room of the hospital. Maxwell had been released earlier and Drake finally caught up with them. Drake told Riley that Liam was meeting with someone to explain his absence. Savannah had replied to Riley's earlier text, letting her know that Bertrand would be going to the hospital soon. She didn't say why, but, the news in the waiting room was riveting. The press had already gathered outside, awaiting the arrival of Duke Ramsford.

"This is absolutely, the most insane thing I've ever seen." Riley watched in awe.

"Wow, that camera is really not letting up off his asshole." Olivia replied in complete astonishment.

"Well Maxwell, I owe you a hundred smackaroos, I thought you made it up, but, that camera angle doesn't lie. He really does get Brazilian waxes" Drake says as he leans back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

"Why would I lie Drake? Beside, you wanna know who else was getting one there?" Maxwell asked. Riley, Olivia and Drake all leaned forward in anticipation. "Who?" Olivia inquired eagerly.

"The Queen Mother", Maxwell said with a slight grin.

"Pfft...no fucking way!" Riley slapped both of  her knees in shock.

"Maxwell, how do you know that? Did you see her there?" Olivia asked sceptically.

"Hell yeah I saw her there, who do you think gave them to her?

All three dropped their jaws simultaneously.

Drake finally rolled his eyes, "you're making this all up Maxwell."

"Did I lie about Bertrand?"

"Well...no...but, this sounds a lot like something Duchess Adelaide would tell."

"I swear Drake, I can prove it."

"How?"

"She has a tattoo of an apple pie on her left butt cheek with "Connie" written on top of it,"

Riley and Olivia lost it, laughing way too hard and trying to catch their breaths. Olivia even tipped her chair over and fell out of her seat onto the floor

"Well, Maxwell, I don't think any of us are going to look at Regina's butt cheek for proof." Drake scoffed.

"Wait Maxwell, why were you giving the Queen Mother a wax job?" Riley stopped laughing long enough to ask.

"You see, I got tired of Adelaide always hitting on me at these balls and such, so I talked to Madeleine about it. She said if I would help out with her fathers business, she would keep her mother away from me. So, I gave waxes once a week. Saw a lot of girls naked....it was a good gig, until it wasn't", he said with a frown, "but, yeah, Reggie, thats what we called her at the shop, would come in every now and again. She tipped well too"

Olivia scrunched up her nose, "I have no words right now for what you just told us, none."

"What did he tell you?" Liam asked. The group all turned around to see Liam and Bastien walking into the waiting room.

"Liam, why do you have claw marks all over your face?" Riley asked as she stood up to stand by her husband.

He looked over at Drake with a sneer, "I don't know, ask him."

Drake shrugged his shoulders and faked innocence, "I don't believe I know what you're referring to."

"You know damn well what I'm referring to doctor!" He shouted.

Drake started to giggle, while Riley told him to lower his voice, Bartie was sleeping.

"I will not....do you have any idea what I've been through tonight Drake?" he asked.

"No, but, I've a feeling I'm about to find out"

Liam walked dramatically to the middle of the waiting room and began to pace, moving his hands to express himself. "Let me set the scene for you. I had to deliver a baby....."

Riley sighed and interrupted him, "Liam, I told you we will have our own baby, you can't just keeping asking other people for theirs."

Liam looked at her and said, "Zip it" as he did the zipping motion with his hand and mouth.

"Aha, ha, just don't get your dick caught in it, am I right" Maxwell joked.

Olivia grabbed his arm, "not now Maxwell".

Riley crossed her arms in anger and thought to herself, Liam is going to pay for that little comment later.

"Now, where was I, Oh yes, I was forced into delivering a baby.....

Begin Flashback sequence....

"Doctor! Doctor! Wake up" the nurse yelled while slapping his face.

Liam slowly opened his eyes and started to focus on his surroundings."

The nurse told him he passed out and he reached behind his head to rub the bump that was starting to form. He asked where he was and she told him in the delivery room of the hospital. He questioned why he was there and slid his surgical mask down under his chin.

"You're not Dr. House, who are you?" She asked pointedly.

"I'm...I'm King Liam."

"Yeah right, and I'm a Kardashian".

He looked up at her confused, "what's a Kardashian?"

"Nancy, call security, we have a mental patient that must have gotten away."

"No No No, I really am the King, I swear."

"Okay, your majesty, what are you doing in the maternity ward" she asked sarcastically.

"Getting breastmilk from room 20" he stated with a raspy voice.

"GUARDS!!!!!!"

Liam tried to get up off the floor and run, but, the nurse started to attack him. She sat on top of him clawing at his face while an assistant held his arms down.

Security came in soon after and placed Liam's arms behind his back. As they dragged him out, he kept kicking, thrashing, knocking stuff over and screaming, "TREASON..... TREASON.... TREASON!!!!! I'LL GET ALL OF YOU FOR TREASON!!! Wait, where are you taking me, no, stop, I said stop....in the name of the mother fucking crown, STTTTOOOOPPPPP!!!!!"

He was taken to to the mental health ward. They didn't recognize him or have any missing people on the list, but, at that moment he qualified for admittance.

He was placed in a locked room alone with no furniture or adornments. He stood there with an angry scowl on his face and his arms crossed. Soon after,  two men came in. One had a white pair of pants and a shirt in his hand, the other had a billy club and rubber gloves. The guy with the billy club told him they could either do this the easy way or the hard way. Liam didn't know what "this" was, but, he knew he didn't want to find out. He was instructed to remove his clothes.

"I most certainly will not" he protested.

The guy with the clothes in his hands spoke up, "listen dude, let's just get this over with and we can get you to your room and you'll be able to get a good nights rest, what"dya say?"

"What are you going to do?" Liam asked.

"We need to get you out of those clothes, then do a strip search".

Liam tried to make a run for it, but, both instantly grabbed him.

After this little show of defiance, he was clubbed on the back and fell to the floor, where he began to cry. Bastien quickly came in and explained everything to the orderly's before he was released, with many apologies.

To be continued.....9B will be out later today.

[xtruss]

Feature

When Imran Khan Blew Me Away

Facing up to the legendary Pakistani allrounder in his prime took not a little courage

— MARK NICHOLAS | June 6, 2020

July 5th 1980, Hove. Damp weather had taken a turn for the better and play began on time in the Championship match between Sussex and Hampshire. Keith Stevenson, an honest outswing bowler who had joined Hampshire from Derbyshire a couple of seasons earlier, quickly removed Gehan Mendis and Tim Booth-Jones. The pitch was true and quite pacy; Hove was a fine place for county cricket. The folk in their deckchairs and straw hats muttered disapproval at the loss of two early wickets but rather perked up when Imran Khan made his way to the wicket at No. 4, a place higher than on the card. Floating behind the Pakistan allrounder were great clouds of charisma.

He wore the Sussex cap and from its band flowed the signature mane that rested upon the nape of his neck. The martlets on his sleeveless jumper appeared as if newly embroidered and occasionally, when the morning sun broke, shone like little blue sapphires on his chest. Imran Khan was some sight. Outrageously handsome, athletically built and light on his feet, he carried himself like an emperor. When he reached 15 or so, he closed the face of the bat too early on a little push to mid-on and the ball looped from the outside edge of his bat into the hands of the Hampshire left-arm spinner John Southern. It was a catch you would lob to a child. Southern dropped it.

We shall never know why, though clearly he took his eye of it. I was stationed at midwicket and watched in horror, as did our team from their various viewpoints around the field. Hampshire weren't much good that year and such pickings were rare. The deckchairs talked in whispered words of disbelief and relief. Southern pulled his jumper from the back of his neck over his head in order to cover his face. The moment was frozen in time: Southern the subject of shame, Hampshire's team the subject of ridicule, Imran the benefactor of hopelessness.

"As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport," says Gloucester in King Lear as he wanders on the heath after being blinded by Cornwall and Regan. The quotation reflects the profound despair that grips him and drives him to desire his own death. He suggests that there is no good order in the universe. Instead of divine justice, there is only the "sport" of vicious, inscrutable gods, who reward cruelty and delight in suffering.

Early days: in the Lord's nets during the 1971 Pakistan tour of England © Getty Images

We were Imran's sport that day all right. He made 114 high-class runs, hitting a six and 16 fours before racing up the hill in the final 40 minutes of the day to claim two wickets with fast inswingers that terrified the recipients, of whom I was one.

Let's deal with the hundred first. Imran's batting was methodical, a thing of planning and practice. He had little of a Pakistani's wristy flair, and none of the looseness that has sometimes characterised the Pakistan game. He was a dodgy runner between the wickets, probably because he called runs from his own vantage point and not with another person in mind; but he didn't run much, at least not in the way of a run-thief. That was about the only flaw. We missed one of those too, Imran stuck halfway down with Paul Phillipson and the throw ending up across the boundary beneath the scoreboard.

He did everything else with time to spare and most of it with elegance. He played very straight - like gun barrel - and moved himself efficiently into line before looking almost exclusively to hit the ball back from whence it came. I remember the six he hit because it was exactly how he hit sixes: a little shuffle of the feet towards the bowler - Southern again - and then a lovely free swing of the bat that sent the ball sailing into the deckchairs. They more than whispered at that - they chortled and poured a glass of pale ale. He was out caught on the boundary off our other spinner, Nigel Cowley. I guess he was bored. Imran's return to the pavilion was the journey of a Roman triumph.

Soon enough he was back out, stretching limbs and wheeling arms. He took the new ball with Garth Le Roux, hardly a slouch himself. The change bowlers were Geoff Arnold and Ian Greig. We were lambs to the slaughter. Imran almost always bowled up the Hove hill and Le Roux down it, which was the case on July 5th 1980.

I repeat, he was a sight - sprinting in, leaping into his delivery stride and unleashing hell. The sprint was short-stepped and reached a good pace before the jump that, in his pomp, set him side-on and close to the stumps at the point of delivery. His left arm worked hard both as a part of the jump and in the follow-through, which, unusually for a fast bowler, broke away to the left and off the pitch area almost immediately after releasing the ball.

From the years at Oxford University in the early 1970s, when he was a chest-on medium-pace inswing bowler, he developed into one of the most sensational and adaptable fast bowlers of all time. Imagine if he had played the large part of his career in England, say, or New Zealand, rather than on the burnt-out, grassless pitches of Pakistan. Imagine the wickets column then! A loose wrist perfectly positioned behind the ball allowed for inswingers that were his stock-in-trade; the outswingers that he developed with the changes to his action were the luxury

Swooning is permitted: in a Sydney gym in 1984 © Fairfax Media/Getty Images

Now here he was at Hove, the Pathan warrior, waiting for me.

First he bounced out Tim Tremlett, a fine county bowler made makeshift opener for a while. Then he pawed at the ground as I took guard - the kid with the crazy dream versus Imran Khan, the greatest cricketer Pakistan has ever known. He whistled a couple past my nose at such pace and with such steep bounce that I barely offered to play beyond a trigger move back and across the crease and the pick-up of the bat. These balls hammered into the wicketkeeper's gloves at head height 25 yards behind me. Then, half-ducking, half-fending, I gloved one that ripped back at me and shot past leg gully down to long leg for a single. The blow sent a surge of electricity through my nervous system, but I was off the mark and away from "Immy".

The umpire at Imran's end was Barrie Meyer. "We haven't met, son, but if I had anything to offer, I'd say stay down this end. You've got a chance against big Garth because you can see the ball in the hand all the way through the run-up and delivery. With Immy, it's lost and then suddenly appears like a bullet from a gun. Good luck." Oh, right. Thanks.

Hove was the quickest pitch in England. As so often in sport, the legend outlives the facts, but the difference on this day and on this surface between our popgun and their heavy artillery was, well, ridiculous. Even I bowled four overs for goodness' sake, and they had Immy, Garth, Horse and Greigy.

There is a tale about me not wearing a helmet but that was a year later, in a Benson and Hedges Cup match. It was a gorgeous day, the pitch was flat - flat like batting heaven - and yes, I wore a sun hat, the Majid Khan-style hat with a wide brim and a hint of style. As I walked out at No. 3 I heard Imran at long leg shout to Garth, who was bowling, "Look Garth, no helmet." They bombed me until the shell shock dismantled me. In defence, helmets were not de rigeur; in fact, they were a choice you made each day, for each pitch or opponent.

Flay as it lays: in action for Sussex in 1981 © Getty Images

On this day in 1980, I wore a helmet but had not worn one before and it was both cumbersome and tricky for sighting the ball - rather an important part of batting. The Perspex visor misted up - well, began to, but I wasn't there long enough for a blinding mist - and it extended a long way out from the face, so it was hard to tuck my chin into my left shoulder in my stance. Thus, I stood quite open, which would have been fine if I had practised that way, but in county cricket there was no time for practice, only play. Oh, and we had only a few helmets so they were shared around. I think mine was white, or blue, or green. I mean, please.

Anyway, Chris Smith sneaked a single off the second ball of Imran's next over and there I was, up the wrong end again. Looking back, it was a thrilling experience but at the time it quickly turned to humiliation. The gulf in standard was so big as to be dangerous. He got me out, of course he did. I nicked a bouncy thing around off stump and nearly shouted "Catch it!" to the keeper behind me. He dived to his right and did just that. I was immediately overcome with sadness at such inability. I was also embarrassed. Sitting in the dressing room, I welled up, reflecting on the truth that I wasn't good enough. It rained for most of the rest of the match, so there was no repeat or redemption.

Eight months later I had a phone call at home from Keith Fletcher. Didn't know him from a bar of soap but was mighty intrigued that he was on the end of the line. He asked me to come with an "England" side to play three matches against a combined India-Pakistan team in Dubai and Bahrain.

I roomed with Basil D'Oliveira, stood at cover for John Snow, and batted with Fletch and Graham Roope among others. Imran bowled a little below Hove pace in a football stadium on a matting pitch under floodlights. I was Man-of-the-Match and Immy, as I suddenly knew him, was friendly and complimentary at the reception that evening. I have been a fan ever since.

I first saw him live in 1979 at the Sydney Cricket Ground during World Series Cricket. By then he was really quick, and with Le Roux, Mike Procter and Clive Rice formed an attack good enough to beat Ian Chappell's Australians in the Supertest final. The cricketers all seemed so glamorous and we came to "see the white ball fly", as went the advertising slogans. Barry Richards made the hundred that saw the Rest of the World XI over the line and a new order of cricketing heroes emerged through the prism of rebellion.

Kerry Packer's astonishing raid on the game had seen most of the world's best players desert the established corridors and sign on to play in the closest thing cricket has ever seen to a rock 'n roll circus. It was a seminal moment, as big in sporting terms as the Beatles and as much fun as the record that changed the look and feel of the seventies, David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust. We watched open-mouthed as the Chappells, Rod Marsh and Dennis Lillee; Viv Richards, Clive Lloyd and Michael Holding; Barry Richards, Procter, Rice, Le Roux, Imran, Asif Iqbal, Derek Underwood and Tony Greig played with a white ball under lights, dressed in tight, coloured clothes with bell- bottom trousers and butterfly collars. These guys were Kerry's band, and boy, could they play guitar. Of them all, Viv and Immy shone brightest and played loudest. There was something of Hollywood in them both and the same aura remains to this day.

Imran (standing second from right) with the likes of Glenn Turner and Basil D'Oliveira in a Worcestershire line-up in 1973 © Bob Thomas/Getty Images

My next encounter with Imran was at the old Northlands Road Ground in Southampton in 1987. Hampshire were playing Pakistan in a warm-up game before the last Test and Imran came for a bat but not much else. In fact, he sent Mudassar Nazar, I think, to toss the coin, having hung around at the team hotel himself until the order of the game was decided and then cruised in at No. 7 for a hit late in the afternoon. He made 40-odd and didn't appear again until the third morning, when I suggested a declaration that would set up a lively day for the good crowd. We stood outside the club office, in front of an audience of spectators having an increasingly heated debate. He wanted practice for his team prior to securing what became a fabulous series win over England; I wanted a bit of enterprise and a run chase. I said he had a duty to the game, he said he had a duty to his team. He called me an arrogant public schoolboy, I said it took arrogance to know arrogance, and to and fro we went, like spoilt kids. The game fizzled out but within a few days Pakistan made 708 batting first at The Oval - Immy made 118 of them, Javed Miandad 260 - to end any hope England had of levelling the series, and, I guess, fully justifying the game plan at Southampton!

You could argue he was just a bit too cool for school during that match but Imran has always seen the bigger picture. He was an exceptional leader of men on the cricket field and has gone on to achieve the ambition most thought impossible, the leadership of Pakistan off the field. Of the myriad gifts, his greatest may be the way he holds it together under pressure. This is achieved through both resilience and self-belief; single-mindedness and desire. No one in cricket worked harder at being good. Imran's discipline and unwavering commitment were a locked-in motivation to those around him.

Of course, the 1992 World Cup was a crowning glory - a day for the ages - and provided the platform for another remarkable achievement. "In the speech, after we won the Cup, my mind was entirely focused on the hospital and I forgot to thank the team members who had put so much effort in the game," he has said since. Imran opened the Shaukat Khanum Memorial Cancer Hospital and Research Centre in Lahore in 1994. His mother, who was a cancer patient, had inspired it, and his speech that day at the Melbourne Cricket Ground will live with us always. He set up a second cancer hospital in Peshawar in 2015.

His route to becoming prime minister has at times been tortuous, needing both courage and persistence in the arguments for what he fundamentally believes is right. He is seen as populist: he pursues Islamic values, to which he rededicated himself in the early 1990s, and liberal economics in the creation of a welfare state. He favours clear and stringent anti-corruption laws and an anti-militant vision for a democratic Pakistan. In short, he is on another mission.

By the age of 30, Imran Khan was a cricketing god. At the age of 67, his real work appears only to have just begun. For those of us besotted by his deeds with bat and ball, we can for now reflect on a fantastic cricketer whose 362 Test wickets at 22.81 each and 3807 runs at 37.69 per innings put him alongside the greatest match-winners to have played the game. When choosing his favourite all-time team, Richie Benaud picked Imran at No. 7. For the record, here is that team - Hobbs, Gavaskar, Bradman, Tendulkar, Viv Richards, Sobers, Gilchrist, Imran Khan, Warne, Lillee, SF Barnes.

Enough said.

Mark Nicholas, the former Hampshire captain, is a TV and radio presenter and commentator

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