#private swim instructor

[academyalmightysports]

Reasons to Take Private Swimming Lessons | Almighty Sports Academy

Have you ever thought about learning to swim but found communal and group learning to be counterproductive to your goals? Private swimming lessons have several advantages over group lessons, which make them a popular choice for students of all ages and skill levels. Here are five reasons why you should consider taking private swimming lessons and how they can help you improve your swimming skills.

Visit Us: https://www.almightysportsacademy.com/

Source URL: https://www.reddit.com/user/academyalmighty/comments/17lvhj1/the_top_5_reasons_to_take_private_swimming/

[swimupacademy]

Best Swim School in Malaysia

Want to learn how to swim? Our local swim school offers rapid and enjoyable adult swimming lessons in Malaysia. Embark on a journey to swiftly learn swimming and relish the advantages of enhanced well-being through our specialized program.

[felixswimschools]

Phone: (647) 705-5250

Address: 64 Baldwin St, Toronto, ON M5T 1L4 Email: downtown@felixswimschools.com

Felix's Swim School Downtown Toronto with 40 Years of Experience! Swim School offers small class sizes/individualized approach, focus on quick progression, & clean modern facilities. Our goal is to instill a life-long relationship with the water by providing high quality, developmentally sound swimming instruction in a fun, safe environment while emphasizing outstanding customer service.

[pucksandpower]

Sink or Swim

Charles Leclerc x lifeguard!Reader

Summary: in which Charles learns there are some sports he’s just not cut out for … but at least he got a date with a cute lifeguard out of the whole ordeal

Warnings: near drowning

The salty sea breeze whips through Charles’ hair as he paddles out into the turquoise waters off St Kilda beach in Melbourne. It’s a few days before the Australian Grand Prix, and he’s determined to catch some waves and soak up the laid-back lifestyle before the high-pressure weekend begins.

“You’ve got this, mate!” His surf instructor Brent calls out with an encouraging grin. The tan, stocky Aussie has been giving Charles private lessons, showing him the proper technique for popping up on the board.

Charles gives Brent a tentative smile back, gripping the sides of the board tightly as he bobs up and down on the rolling swell. He’s a world-class driver, but he’s way out of his element here in the ocean. Still, he loves a new challenge.

A decent wave starts to form up ahead. “Here comes one! Remember to pop up when I say!” Brent yells.

Charles takes a deep breath and begins paddling hard as the wave builds momentum. “Pop up! Pop up!”

With all his strength, Charles pulls himself up into a crouched stance on the board — and immediately loses his balance, tumbling head-over-heels into the cool saltwater.

He breaks through the surface, sputtering and laughing at his graceless wipeout. “I’m afraid surfing may not be for me!”

“Don’t give up yet, we’re just getting started!” Brent hollers back with a grin.

For the next couple hours, Charles repeatedly attempts to ride the waves, only to lose his footing or get pitched off every time. He’s soaked and exhausted, but utterly thrilled to be out on the ocean instead of cooped up preparing for the race.

You’re stationed on the beach in your red and yellow lifeguard uniform, watching Charles’ futile surfing attempts through your binoculars. He certainly gets an ’A’ for effort if nothing else.

A solid set of waves starts rolling in, larger than the previous ones. You can see the raw power behind them.

“Big ones coming through!” Brent shouts over the crashing surf.

Charles nods and makes his way into position, paddling furiously as a massive wave rears up ahead of him. He pops up on the board at the optimal moment — and immediately gets launched into the air, flipping upside down violently as the full force of the wave pummels him underwater.

You gasp, realizing Charles hasn’t resurfaced after the extended pounding. In a flash you’re sprinting across the sand and diving into the choppy water, your steely eyes scanning for any sign of him.

There — a limp figure drifting beneath the surface, sinking slowly.

You kick hard, swimming as fast as you can while the current batters against you. Finally you reach him, wrapping your arms tightly around Charles’ motionless body and kicking back up towards the air. You break through, desperately gasping for air.

“Help! Surfer down!” You rasp, hauling Charles’ dead weight towards the shore as Brent and another lifeguard race out to assist.

You lay Charles on his back in the sand, quickly checking for a pulse. Faint and thready … but there. You tilt his head back and seal your lips over his, exhaling two rescue breaths into his lungs to fill them with air.

Nothing.

You interlock your fingers and start performing hard, rapid chest compressions. “Come on, breathe!” You growl through gritted teeth, your powerful arms pounding against Charles’ chest.

Finally — he coughs and sputters, vomiting up saltwater as his eyes flutter open in a daze. You roll him on his side, patting his back firmly as he continues coughing and wheezing.

“Wh-where … am I?” Charles murmurs hoarsely, blinking slowly as he takes in your face hovering over him.

You give him a relieved smile. “Don’t worry, you’re safe on the beach now. I’m the lifeguard who pulled you out, you nearly drowned out there.”

He squints at you, still looking dazed and confused. “Am … am I in heaven? You must be an angel ...”

You can’t help but let out a little laugh at his muddled words, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, definitely not heaven. Just good old St Kilda beach. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Charles groans, gingerly touching his heaving chest. “Everything hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you take on a 12 foot wave,” Brent chuckles, toweling off Charles’ soaked hair with a caring hand. “Let’s get you warmed up and looked over, eh?”

With your help, Charles is able to stand unsteadily. You wrap a thick towel around his shoulders, rubbing his arms briskly to get the blood flowing.

“I don’t think surfing is my calling,” he chuckles weakly, leaning into you a little.

“Probably not,” you agree with a smirk. “Best to leave it to the pros from now on. You saved yourself from becoming the first ever Formula 1 driver shark snack.”

Charles laughs, grimacing and holding his ribs. “Ouch … don’t make me laugh, everything hurts when I laugh.”

“Well then let’s get you looked over and make sure nothing’s broken or bruised too badly,” you reply gently. Keeping an arm around Charles, you begin walking him slowly back across the beach towards the lifeguard hut.

As you’re tending to Charles, cleaning the sand off his cuts and wrapping his chest snugly, he gazes at you with wonder. “I don’t even know your name, angel.”

You shake your head with an amused smirk. “It’s Y/N. And I’ll accept being called an angel just this once after saving your life out there.”

“Y/N,” Charles repeats, committing it to memory with a warm smile. “I’ll never forget it. You’re my guardian angel today.”

You can’t help but blush a little at his sincerity and charisma, even soaking wet and battered on the bench. There’s just something magnetic about Charles.

Once he’s patched up, Charles stretches out his legs with a wince. “Thank you for rescuing me. I very clearly should not have tried to take on that monster wave.” His eyes twinkle roguishly. “Though I have to admit, the thought of you giving me mouth-to-mouth was quite nice.”

“Oh stop it,” you laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder. “I was just doing my job. But you’re welcome, even if it means no more surfing lessons for you.”

“Ah yes, my pro surfing career is tragically cut short,” Charles jokes wistfully. His expression turns more serious. “But in all honesty … you saved my life today, Y/N. I can’t thank you enough for that. I would be lying at the bottom of the ocean if not for you.”

You meet his warm green eyes, his face still holding the fading marks of his near drowning. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time to help.”

A charged moment passes between you before Charles clears his throat, looking almost sheepish. “So, uh … I know this might seem a little forward of me. But would you want to maybe come watch me race this weekend? As my personal guest?”

You blink in surprise at the unexpected invitation. “Oh, I-I don’t know, that seems like a lot of-”

“Please, I insist!” Charles cuts you off eagerly. “It’s the absolute least I can do to try and repay my own personal angel for saving me.” He gives you a playful grin. “Unless you make a habit of turning down devilishly handsome race car drivers?”

You roll your eyes at his playful cockiness, but you’re already smiling and shaking your head. “You know what, why not? It could be fun to see you in your natural habitat.”

“Fantastic!” Charles beams happily. “Then it’s a date — well, not a date exactly, more like ...” He stumbles over his words sheepishly.

“It’s a date,” you confirm with an amused smirk, putting him out of his flustered misery.

Charles lights up, reaching out to take your hand warmly in his. “A date it is then. Thank you again, Y/N. I’ll show you a much better time at the race than I did trying to surf today.”

You give his hand a squeeze with a fond smile. “I’ll hold you to that, Charles Leclerc.”

[swimhubsg]

Learn Adult swimming lessons in Singapore at SwimHub

SwimHub offers professional swimming instructors in Singapore because its instructors and coaches help adults to learn new swimming techniques at a relevant time. Adult Swimming Lesson has been scheduled for a fixed period of time.

Condominium Small and Private Swimming Lessons Group Classes of 45 mins. 

For more information, visit our website.

[ellecdc]

Elle have you ever felt the urge to write more swim lessons with the marauders? I’m not usually much of a “part 2??” person but when I read that one I thought it was begging for a continuation. No pressure though!! Only if you feel like it, thanks for writing the first one at all :)

wellllllllll, since you asked so nicely (no but I'd literally do anything for you, just name the price - also, this feels like a full circle moment since the first part was absolutely not heavily influence by my love for your EMT!marauders...........)

swim instructor!marauders x fem!reader who learns that praise kinks are a transferrable skill

find part one here!

CW: joking about drowning each other, nerves surrounding learning how to swim, inappropriate jokes because.....well.....you know.

You had left last week's swim lesson (which you had dubbed your latest near death experience) quite certain you would rather just enjoy the white-sand beaches of the Maldives by the waterline.

That is until perhaps the third time someone joked about bringing you a set of water wings, and the second time someone pointed out the horrid tan lines those would leave on your skin. 

So here you were, sitting on a bench in the posh dressing room of the posh country club that your friend’s fiance’s posh family owned as you waited for the rest of the patron’s to clear out of the pool for your private swim lessons.

Oh God, what if you were expected to compensate them for this too?! 

You were so consumed in your spiralling - wondering if you could manage to take out a line of credit simply to attend your best friend's wedding - when you heard your name being called into the change room. 

“You in there?” You could hear Remus call.

“Yup!” You called back; horrified when your voice cracked. “I’m coming.” You added after clearing your throat.

You reluctantly grabbed your towel and hugged it to your chest as you headed towards the pool.

“There she is!” Sirius called as he spotted you. “Our favourite swimmer!”

“I’ve not actually done any swimming yet.” You corrected quietly. Not quietly enough, unfortunately, as the acoustics in this room seemed to carry your words to the black haired swimmer and his bespectacled counterpart across the entire pool.

“You won’t be able to say that for much longer!” James countered.

Remus apparently noticed the panic look form on your face as he let out a low chuckle. “We’re staying in the shallow end today, love. There’s no need to worry.” 

You wanted to be annoyed with him at his incessant use of pet names and endearments, but any ire that may have bubbled in your chest simply vanished when he flashed you a soft, crooked smile. 

You watched then as James and Sirius launched themselves into the pool without a second thought whilst Remus gently lowered himself into it from the edge. 

You weren’t proud that you had to force yourself to look away from the muscles in his shoulders as they flexed under his weight. 

“How tall are you?” Sirius asked then, causing James to gasp dramatically.

“You’re not supposed to ask a lady that, Pads.” He scolded. 

“No.” Sirius countered slowly. “You’re not supposed to ask them how much they weigh.” 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to ask them anything to do with numbers; weight, age, height.” James continued.

“Age!? What can you ask them?” Sirius beseeched.

“Would you sods shut up?” Remus grumbled. 

“Right.” Sirius said then, apparently remembering himself. “I only ask because you should be able to touch the bottom here; why don’t you try getting in like Moony did?”

You felt your brows furrow as you looked at Sirius in bemusement. “Moony?”

“That’s me.” Remus clarified as he let out a sigh of exasperation; you couldn’t help but notice the shy blush that took over his face and threatened to spread to his chest at the moniker, however. “He’s Pads, and James is Prongs. Sometimes. Right now, they’re sod 1 and sod 2.”

His insult was met with one indignant ‘oi!’ and a retaliatory splash. “But what Sirius was trying to say was that it would be good practice getting in and out without a gradient; you said the wedding was in the Maldives?”

You nodded in response. 

“You may at times only have the edge of a dock or perhaps a small staircase to get into the water; doing this in the shallow end will help train your body not to go into fight or flight mode each time.”

And while that all sounded well and good, you couldn’t help but look at the water warily. 

“Come on.” Sirius encouraged you as he situated himself below you and patted the edge of the pool. “Have a seat, doll.”

You bit back a grumble and did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the pool where Sirius stood between your legs and set his hands on either side of you. “Then you just slide in, and I’ll be here to catch you; got it?” 

“Is there gonna be a tattooed bloke in the Maldives to catch me too?” You grumbled to yourself, horrified when Sirius’ bark of laughter alerted you to the fact that you had said that out loud.

“Why, you looking for a date, doll?”

You have got to stop blurting out every thought that enters your mind, especially around these men.

Instead of dealing with your embarrassment, you figured you may as well just try drowning.

Unfortunately for you, the water was shallow and you were tall enough to touch the bottom and Sirius had caught you, so it looked as though you would just have to deal with your embarrassment like a mature adult.

But fuck that.

So instead, you splashed him. 

“Oh she’s feisty today.” James commented as Sirius squawked something or other about his hair.

Humour danced behind Remus’ whiskey eyes as he considered you. “Thank you for splashing him so I wouldn’t have to.”

“We should invest in some of those spray bottles for when he’s being a pest.” James called over with a smirk.

Whatever qualms Sirius may have had about his hair seemed to dissipate at the prospect of dunking his mate as he lunged for James and forced them both under the water.

You were mortified to realise you had leaned into Remus’ side to avoid getting tangled up in whatever underwater brawl was taking place; only realising your proximity to the tall swim instructor when he placed a placating hand on your back. 

“This is actually what we’re going to be practising today.” He explained as his two counterparts emerged from the water with gasping breaths.

“Drowning each other?” 

“Holding our breath.” Remus corrected you with a smirk. “The hope is that you will feel more comfortable in practising if you’re not so worried about what will happen when you’re underwater.”

“We’re gonna have a cheeky seat at the bottom of the pool!” James explained.

You looked to Remus with what you were sure was a ‘you’re kidding me, yeah?’ face who simply smiled at you encouragingly. 

“I thought the purpose of swim lessons was to not end up at the bottom of a pool.” You deadpanned. 

“The purpose of swim lessons is to avoid ending up at the bottom of a pool, and knowing how to get back up to the surface when you do.” Sirius offered.

“We’ll just lower ourselves to our knees and-”

“My favourite position.” Sirius interrupted Remus’ instructions.

“James?” Remus deadpanned.

“On it.” James answered quickly as he put Sirius in a headlock and dunked them under the water again. 

“As I was saying,” Remus continued without the distraction of the other two, “we’ll lower ourselves to our knees, try to count to 10, and then we’ll come back up.”

The other two instructors reemerged at the end of Remus’ sentence and you let out a heavy breath. “I don’t think I can do this.” You admitted quietly. 

Any humour and levity seeped from the three men as they circled you protectively.

“No, hey, of course you can!” James offered, trying to imbue some of his eagerness and enthusiasm onto you as he swiped water away from his eyes. 

“Why would she trust you, James? You look like nothing but trouble.” Sirius said haughtily as he tried to re-restrain his hair into an elastic. 

You were expecting James to squawk in offence, but his face lit up brilliantly as if Sirius had just solved world hunger.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?” Remus asked warily.

“She doesn’t trust us!” James clarified, which clarified nothing for you at all. 

“What! I- no, that’s not true. I…I do trust you, I just-”

“No, no. Not like that angel.” James offered. “I’m sure you trust us enough as employees here, but not necessarily enough to willingly put yourself at risk, right?”

You tried to think of an argument.

You couldn’t. 

“Okay, let’s see…oh!” James started as he lowered himself into the water enough that it lapped against his chin. “I was completely broken when my marriage ended, and these two were the only ones who could convince me I wasn’t a complete failure.” He offered casually as if he hadn’t just dropped a significant amount of lore on a near stranger. 

“I ran away from home at 16 and James’ family took me in, no questions asked, and have treated me as their own ever since.” Sirius added quickly. 

Remus let out a sigh as he looked to the other two in faux exasperation. “And I was a poor scholarship kid attending an elite and posh prep school, and these two did everything they could to make sure no one made me feel insecure about it.” 

“All this to say, angel; I’d trust these two with my life, and I think you should too.” James finished. 

You let out a steadying breath and nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Sirius smiled. 

“Yeah, yes; I can do this.” You decided, mostly speaking to yourself.

“Hell yeah, you can!” James cheered as he splashed the water, Remus muttering something about him being a giant toddler. 

“So, you can plug your nose if you’d like; but try to take a deep breath in, and then whilst you’re under water try letting that air out slowly, okay?” Remus instructed then. You felt more than a little discombobulated with all of his attention focused on you.

Sirius demonstrated and you mimicked his actions which earned you a dramatic round of applause.

“Brilliant! You’re gonna rock this.” James assured you quickly.

“‘Course she is.” Sirius scoffed as if James had said something rather outlandish. “She’s been brilliant at everything so far.”

You felt your cheeks heat up near painfully and looked down to the water in hopes that no one noticed you fluster.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed Remus was more observant than you gave him credit for. “You going to be brilliant for us again today, love?” 

You felt like it was your turn to scoff. “‘Course I am.” your inner voice echoed Sirius. 

“‘Course she is.” James echoed for you; a knowing smirk gracing his lips.

“Ready?” Sirius started as he lowered himself to his shoulders.

You nodded and he started to count down. 

At one, you sucked in a deep breath and plugged your nose before plunging yourself into the pool.

You were too buoyant; your body trying to return to the surface immediately after submerging yourself which left you feeling rather panicky, but you saw Sirius blow out dramatic bubbles and decided to do the same, feeling your body slowly sink to allow you to settle onto your knees. 

James beamed a smile at you as Remus looked at a stopwatch counting down your seconds.

You realised it wasn’t so bad down here - letting the air out of your lungs left you not feeling as if your body was going to burst from the pressure, and it was beautifully quiet. It reminded you how peaceful you found floating to be just the week before.

You felt a gentle tap on your wrist, noticing Remus pointing upwards.

You stood and suddenly, you were horribly aware of how loud an empty pool could be; the sound of water filtering, the large fans in charge of the humidity levels, and the echoing of the great cavernous space left you feeling slightly homesick for the bottom of the pool.

“That was brilliant!” James cheered as he pulled you roughly into his side. 

“You say that as if you’re surprised, Prongs.” Sirius teased gently. 

“Of course I’m not surprised, she’s our brilliant student.”

And instead of an embarrassed flush of your cheeks, you felt a simmering pride settle within your chest.

It appeared that having a praise kink was, indeed, a transferable skill.

[theamberfist]

Sink or Swim | Stolas x Reader

Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader

Description: When Stolas signed his baby daughter, Octavia up for swim lessons, he never expected to like her new instructor so much

(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is baby Octavia's swim teacher)

Words: 1,640

❀ Fun fact: I've taught parent-infant swim lessons IRL so all the exercises shown in this are real ones we use with infants ❀

Stolas frowned as he pushed open the door to the building in front of him; unable to help the slight nervous feeling that bloomed in his chest. He supposed there should have been no cause for concern, considering he was a prince of hell and easily one of the strongest beings in this ring, but it wasn't as if he'd ever done something like this before. 

He readjusted his arms, where Octavia rested on his hip sleepily. On a normal day, she would have been napping at home now, but not for much longer. He'd specifically chosen this time because he knew that, once she woke up, she would be as active as ever. Stolas reminded himself that this was for her sake, not his; he could hold his head up high for her, just as he always did.

When he entered, the imp at the front desk looked up from his work and his eyes widened slightly. "Prince Stolas..." He managed before finally clearing his throat and regaining his composure, "Right, we were expecting you." Though, something told the owl prince they hadn't actually thought he'd make good on his plans and come in. 

"The toddler pool has already been reserved, and your instructor is waiting for you there," the imp went on to explain as he checked their names off on a clipboard, "I'll let them know you've arrived." 

"Thank you." Stolas nodded awkwardly before turning and heading through the locker rooms to the pools. Though he could have simply signed Via up for regular lessons, he'd decided a private one would be better for the sake of them both. He wasn't aware that meant they'd reserve an entire pool for them, however small, but at least this way, he would have fewer paparazzi to deal with. 

Finally, he reached the pool deck, seeing that the whole facility only had a few people in it right now. There was a large lap swimming pool in front of him, as well as a splash pad to his right and the toddler pool to his left. When he looked over, there was already someone sitting on the side with their feet in the water as they waited. They wore a red swimsuit with the word 'lifeguard' printed in white, leading him to believe this was the instructor the imp at the front desk had mentioned. 

He made his way over to the toddler pool as Octavia began stirring in his arms now. It was a good thing he'd already gotten her into her swimsuit, or he would have had a hard time getting her to sit still long enough for it now. 

Upon hearing them come over, you looked up and smiled, setting the clipboard you'd been holding on the side of the pool. 

"Hello!" You called, "Here for the parent-child swim lesson?" Stolas nodded and you stepped out of the barely knee-deep pool to come over to him. To his surprise, you seemed to be a sinner, rather than an imp or hellhound like he'd expected. Your appearance differed from them greatly, and there was an energy about you that told him you had to be a human soul. 

You smiled and introduced yourself. "I'll be teaching our class every week," you explained, "If anything is too difficult or uncomfortable for you two as we get started, please let me know. Private lessons means I have a little more flexibility in what we do." You winked at the last part, and though it made the prince's heart beat quicker, he was fairly certain you just meant it playfully. 

"Anyway, who is this little one?" You asked, turning to the little owlet in his arms, whose big round eyes were staring up at you. 

"This is my daughter, Octavia," Stolas replied, immediately relaxing now that the topic of conversation had changed, "She's about a year old; I hope that's alright!" You waved him off.

"That's perfect," you said, gently reaching out towards the baby, "I've worked with kids much older and much younger than this." Octavia's tiny hand grabbed one of your fingers and you smiled kindly before looking up at her father. "And you're Prince Stolas, right?" He blinked.

"Just Stolas is fine!"

You nodded before removing your hand from the owlet's grip and standing up straighter. "Well, if you're ready, then we can get started." You said, that professional air returning to you, "I was thinking we'd have her in the shallow area to start with and ease her into slightly deeper waters." Stolas nodded, setting his bag down on a pool chair and then following you to the water. 

Now that you'd been properly introduced, Octavia was eager to follow after you, and he held her little hands as she stepped into the shallowest area of the pool. You giggled, encouraging her along the way. 

Once she stood so that the water was up to her knees, you brought out a dive toy and placed it on the pool floor, asking her to reach down and grab it to get her a little closer to the water. Stolas sat by her as she did so with ease, and then you moved the toy slightly deeper. 

He admired how much energy you seemed to have with his owlet, as well as how kind you were to her. Your soft voice and easy patience was a stark contrast to Octavia's mother; that was for sure. The two of you watched her repeatedly pick the dive toy up from increasingly deeper as if she had no care in the world. 

Finally, he broke the quietness between you two as you congratulated Octavia at another job well done. "Do you often teach lessons here?" He asked a little awkwardly, "I haven't seen many human souls in this ring of hell before." You smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I teach almost all the lessons we offer here," you replied, moving Via's dive toy again, "It's the same job I had while I was alive, and I guess it's the only thing I've really found that I'm good at."

Stolas couldn't argue with that. Usually, Octavia was much more timid around water than this. She wouldn't even go in it at all if he wasn't holding her hand the whole time. With you, though, she was so enthusiastic that she hadn't even noticed the lack of touch. It was like he'd brought a different baby to the pool altogether today. 

"I see," he replied with a nod, smiling down at his daughter, who was happily splashing some of the water. "Do you have any children of your own?" You shook your head.

"Nope, I mostly kept to myself while I was alive- and, I guess, while I've been dead, too." You shrugged, "But when I found out how few kids in my neighborhood knew how to swim, I started doing lessons to keep them a little safer." 

Stolas nodded, wondering if it would have been too much to hope that 'keeping to yourself' meant you didn't have a spouse or partner, either. 

"If you're ready, we can move to the deeper water exercises." You changed the subject now and the prince nodded, placing a reluctant Octavia back on his hip and bringing her towards the deeper pool nearby. There, you helped him perform the next exercise, which consisted of him resting the owlet's head on his shoulder and trying to get her to kick her legs as he moved her through the water on her back. She was less enthusiastic about that, but you were quick to think; holding a toy up so her focus would shift. 

That calmed her down a lot, and soon enough she was kicking her legs happily as she giggled at you. "Do you get many attendees to your lessons?" Stolas asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation with you again, "I know those who died and ended up here aren't at as much risk of drowning." You nodded.

"That's why I work here," you smiled, "People in the pride ring aren't really concerned about dying unless it's at the hands of angels. I still think water safety is important, though."

The prince couldn't argue there. After all, that was why he'd signed Octavia up for these lessons. That, and he'd thought it would be nice for the two of them to get out of the house together for an activity. 

"Then I applaud you for your work!" He replied, "I'm sure many hellborn children can be quite difficult to teach." You laughed.

"You have no idea how much hellhounds hate swimming." 

The rest of the lesson went on just like that. With each new exercise, you found yourself getting that much more comfortable talking with Stolas, and vice versa. Octavia was also doing extremely well with everything you threw at her, and at this rate, you knew she'd be confidently swimming around on her own soon enough. 

Finally, the lesson ended and you praised the little owl before dismissing the class and hopping out of the water. Feeling warmer than you had when you began, you grabbed your clipboard to prepare for your next class.

Stolas glanced your way as he carefully dried Octavia off. "Same time next week, then?" He asked with a grin and you nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He didn't say anything, but inside, he knew he would be too. Just as he was grabbing his bag to leave, you came over and handed him a small piece of paper. The owl prince raised an eyebrow. 

"My number," you explained with a smile, "just in case." He nodded at that, feeling his heart flutter as he placed the paper in his pocket, and then you waved them both off as they left.

It seemed he'd gotten more enjoyment out of these little swim lessons than expected, and he couldn't wait to come back. 

[fallen-flier]

swim in circles (sniper! tim)

au where tim's parents get kidnapped by obeah man earlier on but they survive. and he becomes a sniper. :)

inspired by @yjcorefourenjoyer's sniper! tim idea, who graciously let me run around in their sandbox. :D

Turns out, when you leave your child alone without a parental figure for months, you can’t integrate yourself back into their life and just pretend all is normal.

You never wanted to parent me before, Tim wants to scream. Why are you even pretending you care now?

But he says none of it, swallows it down his throat dry where it resides in his chest, thick and cloying like a good son. His parents narrowly escaped being killed. Tim is being selfish because he isn’t used to this. It’s fine.

Jack wants him to transfer to a nearby private school and live at home instead of boarding school so he and Mom can keep an eye on him, fine. Tim can adapt, take advantage of the fact that he’s home more to take pictures of Batman and Robin. 

So Tim is twelve years old when his father brings him to a shooting range and puts a hand on his shoulder. Some good ol’ father-son bonding, his dad claims. His dad is too scared to admit what the true purpose is; so Tim won’t be defenseless in case he’s kidnapped.

But it doesn’t matter whether his dad verbalizes it or not: Tim knows, so there’s no point in saying it out loud.

(For a brief moment, he thinks of becoming Robin, of fists and swinging staffs and acrobatics. Of following Batman’s no-kill rule.)

It’s a silly thought. Tim’s parents are very much alive, and his reality is this: gunpowder and cameras and slow, choking patience. Tim is athletic, but doesn’t exactly make a point to get into fights— if he’s attacked, he would have the best chance with a gun.

But for the next few months, Tim drowns under his father’s expectations and his mother’s worried and guilty gaze. The knot in his chest tightens until he struggles for air, and Tim needs something, needs to get out of the house, needs to do something other than follow Batman and Robin because his parents keep checking on him in the middle of the night.

Tim flounders, kicks fruitlessly at the waters until another weekend, when his father brings him out again and he adjusts his stance, aligns his handgun, and waits until his hands are steady.

It doesn’t take long until he speeds through a fire safety certificate test and all but owns his father’s 9mm pistol.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Tim breathes.

It’s a hobby his father supports and something his mother, who sits in her wheelchair, loosens the furrow in her brow for. Before he goes, she quietly brushes her hand over his hair. Remember your gun safety, Tim, she says, and he nods before heading out for another lesson.

Really damn good, his instructor says, and Tim smiles, because his arms are getting used to the recoil and Tim has one of the highest accuracies among all the teens in the class, even if he takes a little longer than everyone.

But it’s no matter: Tim has experience with being patient.

It doesn't take long for Tim to start bringing his handgun out with him while he goes birdwatching. It takes even shorter for Tim to start eyeing the bolt-action rifles jealously, thinking of how much farther he could take it, what he could do. Eighteen years old, he chants, eighteen years old.

Except when Tim turns thirteen, Jason dies. Batman grieves his son’s death in a way that leaves Gotham a bloody, destructive swathe of pain. And Tim can’t just watch, anymore. He goes to Dick, pleas in his mouth, begging him to see that Batman needs a Robin. 

It doesn’t work. And now Two-Face has Bruce and Dick, and Tim has nothing but his 9mm pistol and the location of the Wayne manor. Alfred looks down at him, lips pursed in hesitation, and Tim knows, knows that Robin doesn’t use guns, knows that it would be an abomination to Bruce’s values and Dick’s legacy but he doesn't know what else to do. 

“Please,” he begs.

Surprisingly, it is easier to convince Alfred that he can protect himself with a gun. Tim suspects that Batman will have a different reaction.

–

Bruce and Dick are safe, Two-Face is safely in jail, and Bruce looks at his guns with poorly concealed suspicion and apprehension. And that’s the crux of the matter: Tim uses guns, Robin does not. Tim cannot be Robin, not with his parents so closely around and his only method of protecting himself being a lethal weapon. The worst part is, it all feels like a waste. The hours at the shooting range, his father’s proud smile, his rising accuracy rates, and it sucks, because Tim doesn’t want to feel this way. 

Tim never meant to be Robin. But he needs to become Robin now and Tim has never trained in hand-to-hand combat or swung a staff before. His way out has become another trap, and Tim has never shot a dart gun before, nor is it sustainable to use tranq darts. 

Funny. Tim never seems to be given a choice. But he can’t complain, so he does the next best thing. Tim throws himself into convincing Bruce, tries to prove that he can be Robin, even if he’s fighting a losing battle. There’s really only one way Bruce will accept, and Tim knows it. 

He screams until his voice is hoarse after Batman nearly dies, but he can't be Robin, not until he gives up Tim Drake. Timothy Jackson Drake holds tightly onto a hope that isn't sustainable, thinks of his father who looks at him in the eye and makes him promise that he'll keep his life over everybody else's.

TIm is selfish and he’s drowning again, but so is Gotham.

–

“Tim.”

His dad looks angry, flickers of worry shining from behind his eyes. Tim knows he’s been acting suspicious: too many bruises on his legs and cuts on his arm, coming home later than usual.

Tim shrugs self-deprecatingly. 

“Please, dad? I know it’s not what you want but it’s getting to be a lot and I need to move around my schedule to fit in more.”

“Tim… This wasn't brought on because the boys in your class have been roughhousinging you because you’re better, right?”

“No! It’s not, it’s not,” Tim shakes his head, face burning with mortification. That would be so embarrassing. It seems so juvenile, quitting because he was bothered by the envious comments, rather than quitting because he wanted to take on a vigilante mantle that had a fifty percent mortality rate to make sure Batman didn’t go off his rocker. 

Tim is so grounded when his dad finds out. His father sighs, running a hand through his hair, and Tim guiltily shrinks under his gaze. 

“You spent so long practicing,” his father accuses. There’s the hidden panic Tim was expecting. “I really thought you were into it, Tim.”

Tim flinches. 

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, trying not to feel like he’s wasted so much of his and his father’s time. “I’m just not that interested anymore and…”

And the truth is, Tim hates this choice. But it’s still his decision, to pick up Robin and put down Tim Drake. He goes for the low blow.

“Let me make my own choice for once, okay? You always want me to do this and that and I’m trying, but I want some space to figure out what I like instead of just balancing what you want in favor of what I want.”

His dad freezes, frustration playing out over his features, but Tim knows he’s won this one. 

“I’m going to check up on your mom. I don’t want to talk about this tonight, but we are talking about this.” I can’t stand talking to you right now.

It’s fine, because Tim has won. 

The situation will blow over, and Tim will prove that he can protect himself in other ways, to both his father and Bruce.

And once again his reality shifts: swinging fists and lies and the fast, spiraling rapids of life.

He thinks of steady hands and the quiet click to the loud bang of a gun. He will wait it out, he foolishly thinks. He has practice being patient.

a/n:

so basically this could go a NUMBER of ways, holy. i had so many plans that i derailed and thought over and whatnot

i originally was going to go for tim being a sniper wayyy earlier, like shooting bruce with tranqs post-jason death (which, by the way, tim would've gone through SO many hoops for that, dude is way too tiny to pass as over 18 and has to be a pretty damn good liar to his parents), never becoming robin (prob would've become a vigilante, just with guns)

but oh man in this version i haven't even GOTTEN to sniper! timmy yet...

also! discussed another cool idea with my wonderful beta @pinkcowzz about reverse robins where tim comes back from the dead as a sniper would also be fun. there are many ways that this au could branch out lmao

[kybercrystals94]

Racket

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch | Week 8 | Swimming Lessons

Rated: G | Words: 1000 | Summary: Omega faces a bully on Kamino.

Omega tugs at the collar of her wetsuit. It is a little tight and small, her wrists and ankles exposed. Biologically, she is the same age as the cadets standing next to her against the wall facing the training pool; however, she is slightly taller physically. Nala Se didn’t think it was necessary to have a custom wetsuit made to fit since Omega will only be taking swimming basics, the lessons extensive and lasting less than a week.

“Where’d you come from?” the cadet on her left asks, eyeing Omega suspiciously.

Omega smiles and avoids the question. “I’m Omega,” she says instead.

The cadet frowns at her. “Why are you here?”

“Same reason you are,” Omega says, shrugging.

“You don’t belong here,” the cadet sneers, “You’re not a soldier.”

Now Omega feels annoyed. She’s being friendly, so why is he being so rude? “Well, you’re not one either,” she tells him. “You’re only three cycles. You can’t be a trooper until you’re nine.”

The cadet sticks his tongue out at her, crosses his arms, and turns to face the water again.

Omega learns that the cadet’s name is Racket, which suits him. He is loud and annoying. And bossy. And a bully.

Omega loses count of the number of times he shoves her underwater. While he never holds her there, it is always unexpected, causing Omega to sputter and gasp when she comes back up.

He takes her floatation device and throws it out into the middle of the training pool. The instructor gets it, scolding Omega for letting it get away from her. She tries to explain what happened, but the instructor interrupts, “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

When they’re swimming laps, Racket grabs at Omega’s legs or arms as he passes her to throw off her strokes, leaving her floundering to recover.

When the lesson is finally over, Omega finds Nala Se waiting for her with a towel and change of clothes. “How was your lesson, Omega?” she asks.

It is all Omega can do not to cry when she asks, “Do I have to come back?”

“That is the intention,” Nala Se replies, guiding Omega to the private changing room usually reserved for the instructors. “Why? Did something happen?”

Omega glances across the room and sees Racket watching her, a cruel smirk on his round, young face. He might be a bully, but Omega is not a tattletale. “No. I just didn’t like it.”

“Hmm,” Nala Se hums. “I thought you would benefit from interacting with individuals your age; however, if you feel it is not a positive experience, perhaps private lessons would be more beneficial.”

***

“Oh, look, a little lab scrabber,” Racket sneers when Omega walks into the infirmary with AZI.

Omega ignores him, keeping her pace to show she doesn’t care. However, AZI stops to look at the clone sitting on the edge of a medical cot holding an ice pack to a developing black eye. “I must correct you, CT-1051811. Omega is not a lab scrabber. She is a medical assistant.”

“Ignore him, AZI,” Omega calls over her shoulder, putting the tray of sanitized medical tools on the counter and beginning to sort them into their proper drawers.

“It’s so sad that your only friend in the galaxy is a medical droid,” Racket croons and then laughs.

Omega rolls her eyes. “Yep. Almost as sad as ending up in medical because you lost a fight against a seven year cadet in a training module.”

“My medical records are classified, you little brat,” Racket growls.

Omega finishes sorting the tools and turns. “I’m a medical assistant,” she tells him sweetly. “So I have access to all your embarrassing records. I hope your cracked rib is healing up okay after that tumble from the Star Destroyer ramp. You really should be more careful.”

“Why you–” Racket begins, but Omega flees the room, AZI whirring behind her.

***

She’s done it. She’s finally found her brothers. And she’s sitting with them for a meal. They don’t seem to know what to make of her yet; however, Omega knows they’ll warm up to her. She’s their sister after all. They just don’t remember.

“Check it out,” a voice says behind her. Omega would know that awful voice anywhere. “The defect squad’s got themselves a new recruit. Another member added to the Sad Batch.”

Omega feels her blood begin to boil under her skin, anger bubbling up so fast she doesn’t really think about it when she climbs up on the table and picks up her bowl of soup. No one talks about her little brothers that way. Not on her watch. The bowl of soup hits its mark stunningly: the back of Racket’s stupid head.

“What the…” Racket whirls around, expression twisted with rage muted by the sludge of soup dribbling down his face and armor. “Who threw that?”

Omega already has her next projectile in hand. “I did. Now apologize to my friends.”

“I like this kid!” Wrecker’s voice sounds delighted, but Omega doesn’t let the warmth that fills her distract from the task at hand as Racket makes his way back to the table.

“What did you say to me?” he demands.

Hunter steps in, moving between Omega and her target. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back off,” he tells Racket, “I suggest you keep moving.”

Racket glares down Hunter, shifts his gaze to Omega, and then to something behind her. Omega knows it must be Wrecker looming at her back. She keeps her expression firm.

Wisely, he deflates, scoffing. He starts to turn around, but not without having the final word. “Know your place, lab scrabber,” he tells Omega, smirking.

Omega glares after him. She can take him calling her names.

But apparently, Wrecker can’t. A tray of food flies past Omega’s head, hitting Racket hard, nearly toppling him. Omega grins as the cafeteria begins to erupt into chaos. This will be a good bonding experience with her brothers.

And they already have her back.

END

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[sl-walker]

Preview...

...from the next chapter of Stardust, which will go out at some point after I finish it. Until then, please enjoy this opener to an already wildly self-indulgent chapter.

--

“I maintain that this would be easier in a pool,” Ted said, though given his tone, he was kvetching to kvetch -- his term -- and was perfectly content with where they were.

Booster had never been in any body of water larger than a hot tub or a cold water post-game bath before, so obviously he’d wanted to jump into Lake Michigan.  It was upwards of 90 out and it wasn’t the dry heat of El Paso; this heat clung to the body, making clothes stick in wildly uncomfortable ways and in insanely uncomfortable places, and so naturally he wanted to wear as little as possible and the best place to get away with wearing very little was the beach.  The incredible amount of blue and water was just a bonus.

And that wasn’t even taking into account a Ted wearing nothing but swim goggles and trunks.  Which meant this could well be either Booster’s very personal heaven or his very personal hell.  Unless there was a weird personal purgatory where you were being tortured with the appealing sight of the unaware object of your affections?

Hell if he knew.  There was a reason he body-swerved religion like it was a wharf rat hissing from the storm drain.

He'd thought about going out to some of the Long Island beaches before, maybe as an afternoon trip, but the ocean intimidated him every bit as much as he was fascinated by it.  By his time, the oceans were very barren; mostly, they existed as giant vats to grow specialized algae, which in turn became the building blocks of most food sources.  Storms could rage, but the vast bumpers and floats and dividers kept the surface anywhere near shore fairly smooth; to let it get wild would be to risk starving some large portion of the roughly two billion people inhabiting Earth at any given time.

In this time, waves roared ashore and smashed against rocks and the first time he’d stood on an unsheltered walk next to an unfettered ocean had left him so awed that he didn’t even remember the walk back to the motel.  His face was windburned and he was cold enough that he took the warmest shower he could coax out of the motel’s hot-water heaters, and then sat shivering wrapped in the cheap blankets after.

But even as he did, he was still reliving the reverberation of water pounding the shore, a low and bone-shaking boom that felt like it changed the very rhythm of his heart right through the soles of his shoes.  He was still tasting salt, flecks of seawater spray flung by the wind, long after it had to have been impossible to.

Lake Michigan was cheerful by comparison to that; the waves were nonexistent today, and given the rental Ted had chosen, the largely private beach was likewise quiet.  Down the way, one of the various public beaches that lined the North Shore was busier -- Jaime, Brenda and Paco had abandoned them to go investigate the more social scene, in fact -- but there had been no talk of Booster and Ted going with.

If one was going to half-ass some swimming lessons, then it couldn’t be a better day for it, or a better location.  And, ulterior motives about getting to see the man in trunks aside, Booster wouldn’t have wanted them from anyone but Ted anyway.

Booster shrugged, drawing his hands through the water in a wide arc around himself, feeling the resistance against his palms. “Easier, sure, but way less pretty,” he said, as he pretended with award-winning composure that he was referring to the lake and not his oblivious instructor.  Though the lake was also pretty.

“Yeah, but with a pool you can practice kicking by holding onto the side.  For an example.”  Ted looked around; he had so much sunscreen on his face and shoulders that there was a glaze of it left on his skin.  Not enough to hide the birthmark on the back of one shoulder.  He smelled like artificial coconut, which was definitely not Booster’s favorite scent, and Booster still would have happily buried his face in Ted’s neck for a snootful.  “I mean, out here all you have to hold onto is me,” Ted added.

Booster stared at him for a second or two, then swallowed down a groan and just let himself slide below the surface because it was that or die right there.

He was laying sort-of on the floor of Lake Michigan in a speedo and goggles and the guy he was absolutely head over heels for was mostly naked and this was the single worst idea he’d ever had in his life.

But, he had to allow as he stared up through the water at the distorted image of his best friend looking down at him in what was undoubtedly a bemused fashion, there were definitely worse ways to go.

[lexa-griffins]

Dilf Clarke takes her son to the pool for swimming lessons. She didn't expect his new instructor, Lexa, to be so beautiful. It doesn't help that Lexa wears a swimsuit that accentuates her curves especially her ass. Clarke tries to keep a respectful gaze as Lexa teaches her son but her glance always strays to Lexa's cleavage, hips, or ass in her tight swimsuit. Once practice is over, Clarke thanks Lexa. Lexa flirts with Clarke openly since she saw her checking her body out multiple times during the lesson. Gaining courage, Clarke asks Lexa if she also does adult swimming lessons. She could always improve her form and technique. Lexa says yes and she wouldn't mind helping Clarke with her "strokes" during a one-on-one private lesson

!!!!!! Oh oh oh 👀👀👀👀

Jack has been BEGGING to take swimming lessons. He still can't swim like his cousins can and Clarke can honestly barely swim too so she is definitely not the prime teacher for thia. So, swimming lessons it is, even if they cost so fucking much.

She's not expecting to have a good time. She's expecting to be bored and scared out of her mind for her little boy on the water.

Any of those seemingly awful feelings are absolutely gone the moment she hears the cheerful "Good morning class." She read the panflect, she knows the teacher is a competitive swimmer and someone who has life guard training. She knows she's youngerish, mid 20s she believes, but somehow she did not expect /her/. She introduces herself to the parents and the class as Lexa and unfortunately Clarke doesn't catch much other than that. The swimsuit is as basic as they come and yet this woman seems to make it look like high fashion lingerie, with the way it clings to her hips and lifts her chest and if Clarke so much as thinks about how it all but disappears beyween her cheeks she's gonna get in trouble.

It is only luck that her kid seems to find himself so famn attatched to Lexa during the whole class, giving Clarke an excuse to look at all while making sure her little boy is alright.

The lesson is short, as most of the kids can barely get in the water at this stage without needing Lexa's full attention. Jack seems to not want to let go of her at all.

It starts there really. How clearly Jack feels sage around Lexa, always the one to go and hug her first, clingning to her despite being a fast learned. This means Clarke and Lexa talk a lot more. /Flirt/ a lot more.

"He's like a little fish! Look at him go!"

"He seems to have taken quite the liling for the water. He's a very smart boy Clarke, you should be proud."

"Oh believe me, I am. I can't even step in the water without feeling like I'm drowning. Maybe i need some basic lessons too."

That, that right there was the magic word.

Because Lexa suggests giving her some classes. And Clarke accepts it.

It is almost embarrassing for Clarke, splashing around the pool at her big age without knowing how to swim. But it also shows her why the kids love Lexa so much, how patience and helpful she is.

Its in the locker room after their second lesson that it happens. Because Clarke cannot stop staring at the way Lexa's wet bathing suit clings to her, her drying hair curling more and more, the droplets of water dripping for its ends and making their way down her back and the curve of her ass. She knows Lexa stares too. Clarke made a point of choosing a swimsuit that is more than generous with her cleavage and knows the swimming shorts do accentuate her crotch.

They are crashing against the lockers before the other has a chance to say anything. They reek of chlorine, but neither care. Clarke lifts Lexa without struggle, pulling long legs around her shoulders, forcing Lexa against the lockers. Some adjusting is nedded to free her dick from the bathing suit, while Lexa's is easily pushed to the side ao she can enter her.

Its desperate and fast, and still Lexa has the time to bring the top of Clarke swimming suit down, freeing her tits from the small cage they were in. Clarke palms Lexa's ass, finally satisfying the impulsive desire to keep her hands there.

It lasts so little that Clarke almost wants to cry when she feels her balls tighten. Lexa grabs her by the back of her neck and crashes their lips together, seemingly finding no discomfort in her squished position as Clarke cums inside of her.

They stand there for a minute. Clarke's dick softening, her chest out as Lexa breathes heavily, eyes close and head against the locker, a satisfied smile on her face. Clarke is careful to help her down, a "wow" leaving her as Lexa nearly falls once her feet touch the ground, Clarke's arms around her waist to keep her steady.

Lexa looks at her with a genuine smile, happiness clear as day in her arms. Clarke knew Lexa had somewhat of an attraction to her, but it wasn't until just now that she realized just how big of a crush the younger girl truly had on her.

That surely complicates things.

[mha-quotes-and-such]

Houre Gurl AU, this is incredibly long and I'm sorry for that: Bakugou's horse is a gorgeous white thoroughbred gelding. He talks to him like the horse murdered his mother but he also brushes him every single day, makes sure he's never too cold or hot or lonely anything, feeds him healthy treats, constantly checks for any sign of illness. He doesn't yank him around when he's riding him, in fact he's really good at working with him. He dotes on that thing but would never admit it ever. But the horse is always spotless, even when it just rained and it's really muddy out. No one knows how he does it. Also Bakugou named his horse like an eight-year-old boy bc let's be honest, he named himself like an eight-year-old boy.

I want Midoryeehaw to have a Shetland so bad. Like it doesn't exactly fit with the flashiness of One For All, but he's a small, light kid and I want him to have a Shetland. If not a Shetland, at least the personality of a Shetland. She's a descendant of the pony Y'all Might had as a child. Both of them are mean little shits but Y'all Might's was well-behaved for him only. Midoryeehaw is working on getting his to behave. But both horses also love attention so during competitions they're always showing off and looking like dream horses while in private Midoryeehaw just managed to get her to stop biting him.

Uraraka has an elderly, third-hand school pony whom she absolutely loves. He's not much to look at, but every riding instructor ever would meet him and go, "This pony is amazing. I wish I had him for my students."

Tsuyu's horse loves swimming. They go to the local body of water on the weekends and swim. She invites her friends sometimes. Bakugou always says no because his horse spooks at the sight of water.

Aoyama has one of those Spanish gated horses. I think they're called Pacifinos? His is palomino.

Toga has a delicate little mare named Rose who can and will bite your fingers off. She loves Toga tho.

The phrase "He talks to him like the horse murdered his mother" is so funny I love that visual. Just gently brushing him, speaking to him in the softest voice, "You little piece of shit. Youre the worst creature on this fucking planet". The horse is named something like Super Sonic Exploding Fighter Jet

Uraraka's is so cute! I can just imagine her letting little kids who come to watch her competitions feed and pet him

Maybe Tsu's horse would be a Camargue? Theyre a little smaller, which would probably work better for her, but theyre naturally from more marshy areas and have wide hooves for traversing softer ground

A Paso Fino would definitely fit Aoyama! I think theyd prefer doing showmanship events as opposed to races/jumping/etc since its more about presentation and the horse's appearance

And of course Toga's horse has to be just as much of a menace as she is! Not only would she bite off your fingers, she would kick you too

[neptoons1998]

Swimming lessons

2/3

Tag Gang: @xblackreader @somethingcleaverandwhitty @pantherheart @mal-urameshi

A/N: I forgot how noisy kids are lol.

Summary: Riri joins her swimming class and Attuma learns he likes MILF, to be more clearly Okoye.

Even though Attuma was a very large man, he loved being a swimming teacher to the young kids. Not only does he get his dauphine of the day but he makes sure all his kids learn swim safety.

So imagine his shock when his afternoon class all but called out because of flu was going around the nearest preschool. Attuma sighed, "I guess I can close early today."

"I hope we aren't too late," a voice causing Attuma to look over his shoulder. There stood the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She stood tall and confident as she held what seemed to be her daughter on her hip. The small girl wore a purple and blue swimsuit with a tight swim cap protecting her soft curls.

"umm," Attuma's voice weakened, "No no you're not late. Many of the kids got sick this week, so it'll be just us."

The woman smiled showing her white teeth, "Ah, a private lesson, isn't that nice Riri?"

The small girl nodded at her mother's statement. Riri looked at him as if sizing him up, "How tall are you?"

Attuma quirked up his eyebrows, "about 6'3 ft give or take."

Riri still looking at him with wonder, "Why are you teaching swimming lessons, you should teach something else."

"Yeah?" Attuma gave a amuesmuned smile, "Like what?"

"Umm like basketball," Riri said out loud, "Being a horse rider. You have to be tall for that."

Attuma's eyes gave a quick glance at Riri's mom who gave a chuck at her daughter's thoughts on his career plans. Attuma's heart started beating with the excitement of just hearing this woman's laugh. The swimming instructor wanted to hear it again for his whole lifetime.

"I'll have to keep that in mind when I want to change my career path," Attuma said. Riri nodded along thoughtfully like she knew how to improve Attuma's career.

"Yeah," Riri commented, "Ladies don't like deadbeats. That's why all the pretty ladies are Lebanese."

"Riri," Okoye called out to her, "Where did you learn that?"

"Aunite Ayo," Riri said, "That's what she always says when somebody thinks I'm her daughter."

Okoye quickly glanced at Riri's instructor. , "I'll have to talk to her about keeping certain things PG around you. And it's Lesbians, not the country."

"Oh," Riri said as her mother put her down. It's going to be a long swimming session, Okoye groan as she made her way to the bleachers.