#home tutor for a level maths

[kiran2520]

How to Overcome Common A-Level Maths Challenges with the Help of a Tutor

Optimus Academy specializes in one-on-one home tutoring for A Level Maths, ensuring students grasp complex theories and improve problem-solving techniques. Targeted support for better grades and confidence.

[dhruvikgala1]

Home Tutor for A Level Maths - Optimus Academy

Looking for a professional home tutor for A Level Maths? At Optimus Academy, we offer expert tutoring tailored to your needs, ensuring a deep understanding of concepts and improved performance in exams. Get the support you need for success in A Level Maths.

[desaibhargav1]

Home Tutor for A Level Maths - Optimus Academy

Looking for a professional home tutor for A Level Maths? At Optimus Academy, we offer expert tutoring tailored to your needs, ensuring a deep understanding of concepts and improved performance in exams. Get the support you need for success in A Level Maths.

[tutorinkarachi]

Home tuition in Karachi 0313-2287896

In Karachi, home tuition has become an increasingly popular educational option, providing students with personalized learning experiences tailored to their individual needs. This approach offers the flexibility of receiving lessons in the comfort of one’s own home, allowing for a more relaxed and focused environment. With the city’s diverse educational landscape, home tuition services cater to a…

[dannyriccsystem]

hiii can you do kimi antonelli asking help from a cute girl in his class or a driver’s younger sister to tutor him in math?

LISTEN UP NOW!

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

Summary: Kimi asks his cute classmate for help with math!

Warnings: Silly, fluff, Y/N usage, user is in last year of high school

Featuring: Kimi Antonelli x Classmate!Reader

REQUESTS OPEN! Check here for more info!

Still getting to requests today, but feel free to send some in! Love y’all

Nobody necessarily expected Kimi Antonelli to still be in school. Rarely did you see a Formula One driver who was still learning about the basics, such as math and language, while also simultaneously passing world champions in their sport and making a living for themselves. After this information came out, there was obviously… Quite a few jokes.

Kimi had made a whole ordeal of asking George to tutor him in math, and while viewers (and George himself) passed it off as a joke, the truth was Kimi really was struggling in the subject. It didn’t have much substance to him, and lacked sense. Unlike racing, which came so naturally to the rookie.

His teachers were emailing him nonstop, scolding the racer on how unbalanced his school life and work life were. Despite being a kid who raced cars for a living, going at unimaginable speeds, he still walked away with his tail tucked between his legs after being harshly lectured by his elders. After being reprimanded for about the thirtieth time, Kimi was instructed to find himself a tutor.

Online class was easy. Everyone was given their own workload to finish at their own pace, with varying deadlines depending on level of learning. Y/N excelled in this department, finishing most of her work far before the others. She was a straight A student, sitting at the top of her class.

On rare occasions, their class would host little lessons over Zoom. It always reminded her of the quarantine days, but it was nice to see familiar faces nonetheless. Even if most of the time she was sat there quietly, watching everyone else get caught up with the work.

One evening, a surprise guest had popped up. Andrea Kimi Antonelli, whom had never had enough time to make an appearance. Everyone knew of him— Y/N would be stupid if she didn’t. Of course, the reaction to his involvement was rather distracting to the sake of the course, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

He seemed lost the entire time, barely able to answer basic questions about logarithm and pythagorean theorem— Things they had actually learned during the prior years. Being an F1 driver must really be time consuming. Once the call was over, she did what a typical, compassionate person would do…

Offered her assistance!

Y/N’S MESSAGES ☆

Every night, right after Kimi had finished up his responsibilities as an F1 driver, he’d stop by the hotel room his team had booked for Y/N, his new tutor. Every time, without fail, he’d find her sitting at the hotel desk, finishing up any new work the moment it came out. It was endearing how dedicated to school she was.

At first, their meetings were strictly professional. She’d teach him the basics, and then he’d be on his way. But by the fourth night of tutoring, the air had become more friendly. He brought in leftover food from the after party, which they shared while watching the newest episode of whatever reality TV show was airing on the hotel TV.

Y/N found herself craving his company by now. She counted down the minutes until she would see Kimi again, eager to spend as much time as possible with the aspiring racer. He was charming, funny, and… Despite his mishaps, intelligent nonetheless.

The week of her traveling came to an end, and the two parted ways at the airport before her flight back home to Italy.

your.username

liked by kimi.antonelli and others

your.username Tutored this dork, learned about F1, and watched my first race in person… Eventful week.

tagged kimi.antonelli

—

classmate.user1 - Not fair that Y/N and Kimi are out having fun while we’re stuck here!

♥︎ by author

classmate.user2 - Agreed 😐

> kimi.antonelli - Should have offered to tutor a friend in need!!

♥︎ by author

friend.user1 - Jealous!! But we missed you here in Italy 🇮🇹

♥︎ by author

friend.user2 - Did you get to meet any of the other drivers?

♥︎ by author

your.username - Lewis Hamilton himself…

> friend.user2 - I HATE YOU I’M JEALOUS

♥︎ by author

friend.user3 - Woah…

your.username - ??

kimi.antonelli - Miss you already! My grade already went up!

♥︎ by author

Y/N’S MESSAGES ☆

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 5.

Prev Next

The library was quiet when you walked in. Since it was still early in the morning many people hadn't shown up yet. Your luck of finding a tutor were slim right now. It was best to start independent so you could tell a tutor what you needed to learn more about anyway.

You wonder the shelves contemplating where to begin. Maybe the computers to look up what fourth grade standards? Didn't those vary though? Okay maybe you should have goaded your 'family' into telling you were the 'boarding school' was supposedly base. Science sounded like a good option. It used a mix of math and reading comprehension.

You had to choose a science fourth grades typically learned, though. Honestly you wished you could just pick any science and say the school had specialized classes. However you didn't know what type of boarding school Bruce claimed you went to. The slightest misstep and your siblings would alert him that something was up.

Being realistic Bruce could send you back at anytime. By playing into his lies, you would appear compliant or like you don't suspect he was involved. That could buy you time. If it seemed like you were truly trying to integrate back into the family and not expose the experiments, he might let you stay for a little longer. Why get rid of someone if their potential as a threat was limited by their ignorance?

For now you need to match the cover story. Whatever books were labeled fourth grade level than. Maybe a few fifth grade books. You had implied that you were doing more advanced work. Maybe you could safely make the claim that you were placed in advance classes. They had been talking about those during your last year at Gotham prep.

The kids section was full of basic cartoon style books. You browsed a few before frowning. Most of the information was the bare bone minimum. Half the books mark 4th grade level only covered surface level knowledge.

You pulled out a book on human anatomy and almost bursted out laughing. The drawings were over simplifications of the organs, nothing compared to how they really looked. Slimy, covered in veins, shades of pink or gray you didn't expect once the blood was removed. That thought brought back a haunting memory. You shoved the book back on the shelf. Medical research would come later.

Grabbing any books that caught your attention, you headed over to a secluded area. Most of the information was basic understand. Yes, you learned some new things and were fairly certain your reading comprehension was ay the appropriate level. But there was nothing involving math. "Maybe a few tutors have shown up or a librarian can help me call one."

Standing back up you wondering over to the librarian desk. No one was there. You yet out a heavy sigh. Oh course they weren't there, that was just your luck.

"Hello, are you looking for something?" You jumped at the sudden voice behind you. Spinning around you saw a woman with long dark brown hair and green eyes. She carried herself confidently but some part of you screamed the she was capable of violence.

"I was looking into what's available in terms of math tutoring. Maybe social studies or history if that's an options." You angled you body away from her.

She laughed slightly more to herself than you. There was a gleam in her eye, like she was impressed by her assessment. "Well you're in luck. I happened to home schooled my own son in math and know a lot of teachers. What do you need to know?"

"Pretty much everything above adding and subtracting." You scowled down at the books in your arms. It they had and hadn't been useful. Maybe you should take advantage of this woman's help. You needed a tutor, it shouldn't matter who it was also long as your family didn't find out. "What’s your name?"

"I'm Talia." She crouched down to your level and held out a hand. You stopped thinking.

Talia.

The woman mentioned in your mother's diary. It couldn't be. Though she mentioned having a son. No Talia might have been an older flame and Damian's mother had a different name. Maybe you had been to quick to get in a fight with him. Now you couldn't ask him about his mother. What if he sent her to spy on you because you had pissed him off? Not good, really not good.

"I'm (Fake Name)." You gave her the wrong name and watched. If Damian had sent her, she would probably already know your name. So by giving her the wrong one you could figure what she already knew about you. It wouldn't be through her words or actions. No the hints would be subtle. Some kind of disappointment or a sign she felt slighted.

Yet her face remain pleasant. That slight hint of being impressed remaining, "It's nice to meet you. Let's do a few tests so I can see where you are first." Just like that you were swept away into a world of learning.

Talia was beyond impressed with the young Wayne girl. First she correctly identified Talia as a threat. It was obvious by the way she angled herself away from the older woman. How her eyes flicked for the nearest exit, probably a subconscious reaction. Without Talia's weapons or reputation, the girl had pick up on danger.

Next was the wrong name. Said so surely like it truly was her name. The girl shifted so fluidly into the new identity too. Talia would have believed it if she hadn't already done research. Never once did she catch the girl not responding to the name. All without proper training.

However, that all paled in comparison to her true shining trait. The girl's intelligence was well beyond average. She caught trick questions and picked up topics quickly. Talia was willing to bet her intellect could rival Bruce's. Obviously not at her current state, she need guidance to reach that level. Still all the material was there.

"Thank you for the help, today." Her voice was quiet. Movements quick to put away the notebook she had written all of her work in. They had moved from mathematics, to English, social studies, sciences, and the one that she seem the most interested in Criminal Investigation. Damian had taken his father's intelligence but was held back his ego. She didn't have that fault.

Talia smiled, "of course. Will you be returning tomorrow? I would love to continue our lessons. There's a chance I might be able to teach you Arabic."

"Arabic, the language?"

"Yes. I taught my son but well he lives with his father now and I don't get to speak it with him anymore." Talia said the information to get the girl to relax but the opposite occurred.

(Name) bit her lip, "I apologize if this is sensitive to you but what's your son's name?"

"Damian." Talia observed the girl's reaction. Her shoulders tense, body angling again, one deep breath. "Too bad his father turned him against me."

"How?" The girl blinked after saying the word. Her face was too blank to be natural. The information was throwing her for a loop as she tried to make it fit her reality. They would need to work on that.

Talia shook her head sadly, "I'm not a hundred percent certain what he told my boy but I think... I think he made Damian believe that he was in love with me and I broke his heart. Even though it was the other way around when he cheated on me."

Talia watched as the words hit home with the girl. Oh she had chosen the right story to turn her against Bruce. The girl gave her an easy smile that was a smidge too tense in the corners, "Yeah. I'll be here tomorrow. Can I ask one last question?"

"Go ahead." Talia gestured with her hand.

"Do you happened to know any self defense teachers?" Determination morphed her features. It made her come alive in a sense. That fire she saw yesterday back in her eyes and brighter. Confidence shifted her stance into one more sure.

"Oh I know several material arts teachers."

Bruce sat in his car, rubbing his brow. In a little over twenty-four hours since his youngest had shown up at manor things had arguably gotten worst. First the information coming out about (Name) never being at school followed by a full blown investigation by his kids. Than there was what the others had officially dub "The shit list". Damian had become so upset he secluded himself in the barn. Last but certainly not less were the changes the other reported in his youngest.

Dick's last phone call said she was at the library researching for 'school'. They had decided to watch her through the cameras believing space was what she actually need. Yet one thing was clear from the little time she had spent in the manor since coming back. Whatever had happened was traumatic and she was not going to tell them directly. Perhaps whoever had her was now stalking her to ensure she wouldn't cooperate.

Bruce would double the manor's security. He wouldn't fail one of his kids a second time. She hadn't arrived home from the library yet, so Bruce had time to prepare. Taking one last deep breath he exited the car. First stop the Batcave to get an update on investigation.

Bruce might as well have entered a war zone. At least there he would know where to start. Dick and Jason were in a screaming match about who should have been checking in on her. Tim was two steps away from drinking coffee straight from the pot, while pouring over financial records. Barbara looked like she was having an aneurysm. Cass was analysising video footage taking notes on presumably her body language. Duke was being interrogate being Steph on how (Name) acted while the two were out and what she could have been writing in "the shit list."

"Status report." His voice shattered the chaos in a matter of seconds. "Oracle you go first."

"I searched through city wide surveillance feeds and found some video footage from a few days ago. It seems like who ever had her did chase after but..." Oracle, Barbara trailed off. The screen flash to show (Name) being chased by an armed pursuer. In two seconds, she had turned thrown a knife of some kind than ran down an another alleyway. Her pursuer fell to the ground weapon lodged in his throat. "Police reports identified him as James Lenon, a low level criminal with a history of violence. He had a scalpel in his trachea and was pronounced dead on arrival of the scene."

Bruce now understood why Barbara looked ready to have an aneurysm. This footage showed (Name) committing murder. Just to get away from whoever was holding her captive. He could only imagine what might have pushed her to that point. That or she didn't know the guy was dead. It would technically count as self defense either way but not a good sign.

Barbara typed something on her laptop before another video appeared. "Than there's this one." It show (Name) running off screen injured. When she reappeared the injuries were gone, not even a speck of blood. The video ended with (Name) throwing a mangled bullet at the camera. An act of defiance, but towards who.

"Has this video been edited?"

"No. This is the orginial video. Do you think she might actually be a meta?" The room filled with anticipation at that.

Bruce nodded once, "we'll need to test her DNA but the odds are good. Red Robin what do you have?"

"She was telling the truth about her card being stolen. It would seem whoever stole it though knew better than to use it to pay for something directly. All of it's cash withdrawals, the ATMs used are in Gotham though so it's all local. Oracle any updates on ATM footage?"

"Na-da. They're smart, covered their faces with sunglasses and sick masks. Generic brand sunglasses and disposable mask so no identifying markers. They wear them on video until they disappear." Barbara brought several still shots onto the screen.

Bruce nodded to the two, taking in the information. It assumable from the ATM footage alone there were multiple people involved in this. They would need to identify which group had the most to gain.

"Nightwing, Red Hood. What did your investigation of the PO box reveal?"

"They scorched the damn place the night she escaped." Jason dropped a picture of a burnt and destroyed PO boxes on the table. One box in the third row was circled "Also destroyed any mail going to all the PO boxes on that wall. Feds are looking into it since the post office was involved, I couldn't get closer than that."

"The person who orginially opened the box, Marcus Antonio, was found dead last night." Dick placed crime scene photos on the table. A man with a singular bullet wound laid in a pool of blood. There were tipped over and rifled through drawers, books, coffee containers. The scene was mess. "Decided to take a look around. It was a clean hit but catch this. The guy had loads of cash stashed all over the place. GCPD thinks it was a robbery gone wrong since they didn't take all of it and left in a hurry. With what we know, I think it was a targeted attack. They mostly just took the cash they could find, figuring they were going to get cut off"

Tim interrupted, "I second that. All cash withdrawals stopped the day after she escaped. They pulled more than they usually did so the bank flagged the card. It's shut off pending investigation."

Bruce nodded. It was likely that most of the people involved were going to leave Gotham. Cash would be necessary for that. "Any sign of the mail?"

"No but he had a burn bucket in the bedroom." Dick shook his head. Leaning against the table he sighed. "They're getting rid of evidence quickly and have a three day head start."

"Orphan."

"She shows signs of hyper vigilance, avoids cameras, and I think she probing us for information." Cassandra looked up from the tablet she was using one.

"Wait, she's probing us for information?" Tim stopped typing on his laptop before throwing his head back and groaning. "She's become one mystery after another."

"At the breakfast table. She was trying to figure out if we read her diary, was gauging how we all reacted to her mentioning school, and was ensuring the debit card got closed out. The roommates she referred to as troublesome were probably the gaurds."

Everyone nodded. Bruce looked to Barbara, "I want a video of breakfast this morning. I need to know exactly what was said. Spoiler, Signal."

"If she doesn't have PTSD I don't know what she has." Steph leaned back in her chair rubbing her eyes. "Though this one wasn't pay any special anytime to her behavior."

"I didn't know I was supposed to. I genuinely thought she was upset because Damian attacked and having to leave 'school' early." Duke ran a hand over his face. "In the hours we spent at the mall, she implied she had to leave school quickly because something really bad happened. That and she's..."

Duke froze, pieces connecting in his head. When he looked at Bruce, horror started to mix with realization. "Was she a Meta two years ago?"

There was a pregnant pause as everyone in the room thought. Bruce shook his, "No. She never showed signs of being a Meta."

"Disappeared for two years, comes back with meta abilities, refers to the thing making her leave as really bad with potentially two triggers for her being needles and the smell of disinfectant." Duke looked at all of them more pieces falling into place. Bruce's eyebrows knitted together. Duke was on to something but for the life of him, Bruce could piece it together? "What was happening two years when she disappeared? Other than that Joker attack."

It finally hit Bruce what Duke was getting at. Two years ago Meta Human traffickers stop looking for ways to find 'product'. Instead they began looking for ways to create new it. There were reports of them doing horrifying things to create new meta humans. It didn’t work because most of them lacked the funding to get the necessary chemicals and equipment.

Yet, with a Wayne kid's debit card that gets weekly deposits. He even gave her a higher amount than the others because she was supposedly aboard. It was possible but there was one missing component for this. "There are no meta humans in my biological family. She wouldn't have the gene to activate."

"And her mother's half of the family?" It was a valid question for Duke to ask. Bruce thought for a second, had her mother had a meta in her family. She mentioned an aunt that was disowned but that was it.

"Spoiler I want you looking into her mother's side of the family." Bruce gave the command before looking across the room again. "Red Hood start looking into Meta Human Traffickers who went off the grid two years ago. Red Robin you're in charge of looking into whoever made those withdrawals. Find out where that cash went. Oracle, look into the two people we've identified as being involved, get contacts, favorite hunts, anything you can. Send that information to Oprhan and Signal. You two are with me in tracking them down."

"What about me B?" Dick gave Bruce a questioning look.

"You're going to talk with (Name) and get her to open up to you." Bruce nodded at Dick, "Go be her older brother."

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Taglist:

@stove-top96 @mysticalhills @00hellohello00 @a-lurking-fae @yhin-gg @twismare @charlenexoxo1 @moondust-clouds @darkumbreon92 @jsprien213 @bellethesleepypotato @time-shardz @randomlyappearingartist

[esmedelacroix]

00 - Pilot

synopsis ! he’s an American football player by day and a passionate mathematician by night. She’s a well-rounded historian and writer who couldn’t evaluate a derivative to save her life. They lived in two different worlds but shared the same study room.

series masterlist | cmnt to be added to taglist !

cw ! no use of y/n, y/n is _____, fluff, slow burn, college au, ooc sukuna, f!reader, child abuse/neglect, alcohol abuse, suggestive

fic radio ! Heavy by The Marías

Ryomen Sukuna knew from a young age that he was a genius. It didn’t take his fourth grade teacher’s praises or his middle school principal placing him in higher level math and science classes. He just knew. But his mother, the resentful drunk, put no effort into his education or his future.

He was the product of her falling in love with an American “businessman” who ended up being a low-level drug dealer who eventually got arrested. On his release day, he had already run away to a distant South American country. So here lived Ryomen and his absentee mother, who moved to America to live in a trailer park.

Ryomen’s mother didn’t bother taking him to school or making sure he got on the bus, so he attended school when he could. His teachers constantly sent notes home begging his mother to bring Ryomen to school, but she didn’t care to read them.

Ryomen picked up small jobs around the park, taking care of the elderly for money and sometimes just a meal. When a social worker was sent home, his mother laughed at the idea of Ryomen being intelligent, chuckling, “That brat will never amount to anything. Both his parents are dumb as fuck anyway!”

By middle school, he was juggling two jobs while attending school whenever he could. He probably broke a good amount of child labour laws, but it’s what kept him and his mother alive.

High school changed his life. His good friend, Toji Fushiguro, begged him to try out for the football team. He mused about how many girls they would get, knowing that he only asked Ryomen to try out with him because he was nervous.

Ryomen picked up football with ease. He was an aggressive tackler, and he was an amazing runner. All those hours he worked at factories and warehouses added to his physique. Having to fight the odd men his mother brought over sometimes also toughened him up. But in the case of football, he wasn't pushing himself because he had to; he played because it became an outlet for him.

He ended up being so good that he and Toji went to college with their amazing skills. Ryomen as a quarterback and Toji as a tight end. Their small town never sent anyone to college for sports, so Ryomen and Toji were practically celebrities. Toji thought it was a miracle that he would be attending a highly selective school just because he could catch a ball and block a few dudes. He had no clue that even without the sports scholarship, Ryomen could have gotten into an Ivy Leauge school with just his grades alone. He was an undercover nerd.

. . .

You grew up in the kind of environment where everything you did was talked about. Being one of the wealthiest families in Upstate New York meant all eyes were on you at all times. You were an only child who was afraid to rebel. So you tried your hardest to be picture perfect. Never allowing yourself to break under pressure.

Attending one of the most prestigious prep schools in New York meant having to be at the top of your class. It meant juggling a full schedule of APs, electives, extracurriculars, clubs, and tutoring. You did all of this seemingly without breaking a sweat. Being the best had a cost. You didn't get to live the teenage life, and it upset you. Your parents insisted on you staying close. But you had different ideas. You were tired of feeling like a hermit. Never having drank alcohol, or dated, or even partied(outside of formal events), you needed to do college right. You couldn’t achieve that close to home.

You could do that at Ohio State. You wouldn’t be the slightly entitled good girl. You'd be the life of the party.

. . .

-> next part

[whencyclopedia]

Education for Girls in Ancient Rome

The upbringing and education of girls in ancient Rome are rarely addressed in ancient sources. A young Roman girl from an affluent family married very young, often in her mid-teens, and girls, according to tradition, were brought up solely for marriage and to bear children. A Roman girl's formal education, mainly dictated by the prospect of early betrothal, was short-lived.

"Sappho" fresco, Pompeii

Carole Raddato (CC BY-SA)

Although education was seen as crucial to self-advancement, the Roman education system was directed towards a young boy's 'career' in politics or in the Roman law courts. It prepared the boy for his entrance into public life and was key to him obtaining a prominent position in Roman government and society.

The Roman Education System

Formal education for children began at about the age of seven years; girls from affluent and elite levels of society would have received an elementary education at home from a private tutor, as would the boys. However, if a father did not employ private tutors, children may have been enrolled in schools outside of the home. This early education for both sexes would have included reading, writing, maths, and Greek and Latin literature. Plutarch (c.45-50 to c.120-125 CE) writes of nine-year-old Pompeia, daughter of Pompey, proudly reciting verses to her father from Homer's Illiad (Quaest. Conv. 9.1.3).

On completion of this elementary level, boys aged around 12, progressed onto classes at the school of the grammaticus, where they would develop and refine their writing and speaking skills as well as study philosophy, astronomy, and natural science; it is here that boys also began their preparation for oratorical studies. Girls did not attend the schools of the grammaticus. At the age of 15 or so, having possibly assumed the adult toga as part of a Roman boy's rite of passage, boys then moved on to the rhetor where they would learn to become skilful orators, study law, politics, astronomy, geography, Roman and Greek literature, philosophy and mythology. The wealthy young males might then further their education by joining fellow Roman students in Athens and other intellectual centres in the Far East. Roman girls by the age of 15, could already be married, could already be mothers, and if not, they were being prepared to be such.

Continue reading...

[eoe-1379]

Avalanche Part 1

(Trying to get used to 2nd person, while continuing the story. Bear with me. I also put a lot less work into this. Writing it in tumblr drafts and doing only the most basic of editing. I've given up trying to make it perfect I just want the ideas out of my head.)

Link to Part 2

This one is all fluff and fun! Not explicit, but the next part will be, which is why I'm leaving the 18+ warning up on this one.

A small warning for mentions of drugs and alcohol

The year was 1986. You’re in college now, just trying to get through your preliminaries before you have to finally pick a major. Unlike you, Caleb had everything planned. He was almost done with his degree and already had a job lined up at the DAA for when he graduated. It was different for you. You didn’t excel at school, at anything, the way Caleb did. He was a born natural at whatever he tried his hand at. Meanwhile, you needed a tutor to pass entry-level trig.

Caleb wasn’t happy about your choice, but Zayne was the smartest person you knew. Book smart, at least. Plus Caleb was so busy now with graduation prep and getting in his hours on the simulator he didn’t have the time to teach you the principles of imaginary numbers. Zayne did.

Zayne was going for his PhD, and he too was almost finished with his schooling. Next would be his residency, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. Mingling around with the other young doctors and nurses had never been where he felt comfortable. He wished he could just skip to the end where he was established in his career, but that wasn’t the way things worked. He was all too pleased when you asked him for help with something basic like Trigonometry. Math, and you, were definitely his comfort zone.

“I just don’t understand where I’m even going to need this.” You groan, pushing the textbook away with an air of disgust.

“You likely won’t once you graduate, but you will if you want to cross that stage.” Zayne put his pencil between his teeth as he pulled the book back to rest in front of you on the dining table. “One more try, then we’ll take a break. Let’s focus on this equation…”

“Ugh” You toss your head back and sink into the chair like a toddler. “Couldn’t we take a break now? We’ve been at it for hours, doc.”

Zayne can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He liked that you called him Doctor, even though he was still years away from being one.

“Alright, but not too long.” He leaned back, relaxing. “Your breaks have a habit of hijacking the day.”

The sound of keys at the door makes both of you turn. Caleb is home.

He enters the apartment with his head bowed, a sack of groceries dangling from his wrist as he wriggles the keys from the lock. When he looks up and meets your gaze, his brow furrows.

“Another study sesh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen to set the groceries on the counter.

“We’ve almost solved one equation.” You jest.

“That so?” Caleb says absently, stocking the fridge. He seems distracted, avoiding your gaze.

You get up from the table and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Behind you, Zayne takes a long sip of Dr. Pepper and watches the wall.

“Welcome home.” You muse, snuggling into Caleb’s chest. “I missed you.”

Caleb softens, wrapping his arms around you as he presses a light kiss to the top of your head.

“Missed you too, pipsqueak.” You watch his eyes flick across to the dining table before settling back on you. “I thought we could celebrate tonight, just the two of us.”

You glance over your shoulder to where Zayne is awkwardly trying to look occupied.

“What exactly are we celebrating?” You ask in a softer tone.

“I finally finished my hours on the simulator.” Caleb’s prideful smile breaks through his demeanor. “I bought us some champagne to share, and I was going to cook a special dinner but…” he trailed off before raising his voice to include Zayne in the conversation, “I only got enough for two. Sorry man.”

“That’s alright.” Zayne went to stand, brushing off his shirt, “We can finish studying later.”

You move away from Caleb, feeling guilty for making Zayne feel so unwelcome. You turn back, eyes pleading. Caleb sighs.

“No, wait,” he gives you a stern look, but when you don’t relent your pouting he continues, “Stay. I heard you’ve got something to celebrate as well.”

You whip around, finding Zayne frozen in the tiny apartment foyer.

“What’s he talking about?”

Zayne sighs. He’d been hoping to avoid this.

“Oh, nothing extravagant.” He breathed, bashfully rubbing his neck.

“That’s not what I heard.” Caleb went on, “I heard you saved some chick's life in the food court.”

Your eyes widen in awe.

“What?! Zayne! Why didn’t you say something?”

He winced slightly as you tugged on his sleeve, making apologetic eye contact with your boyfriend over your shoulder.

“It isn’t a big deal.” He shrugged, “She choked, that’s all.”

Caleb looked at Zayne knowingly but did not correct him further.

“Either way, you’re welcome to celebrate with us. This one hardly eats what I make her anyways, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of food for you.”

You shoot Caleb a glare.

“It’s not my fault I can’t keep up with your portion sizes, I don’t have that kind of metabolism.” You turn back to Zayne, grabbing his cold hand in yours. “Do stay.” You plead with a smile. “I promised you a break, after all, and if you go home you’ll just start working again and you know it.”

Zayne exhaled heavily through his nose, holding his coat in one hand, you in the other, one foot still pointed toward the door. You watch as his brow creases and relaxes with thought as if he’s weighing every outcome in his mind. Finally, he speaks.

“I suppose I could stay for dinner.” He set his coat back on the rack and moved away from the door.

“Bitchin'!” You shake him a little with excitement, planting a kiss on his cheek. The action wasn’t planned and startled you almost as much as it startled him, but nothing prepared you for Caleb’s burning stare. “Sorry.” You say, backing off. “I get too enthusiastic sometimes.”

“No worries.” Zayne hums, rubbing the spot on his cheek with a barely concealed grin.

“Who wants a drink?” Caleb interjects from the kitchen, already pouring a glass.

“Me!” you and Zayne say in unison.

Night sneaks up on all of you. The dining table was littered with messy dishes and dirty napkins, two empty bottles of champagne, and three half-full glasses remaining.

You twirl yours between nimble fingers, watching the golden liquid swirl. Your head feels heavy, your cheeks warm, and you aren't wasted but you're buzzing.

Zayne is also flushed, leaning back in his seat laughing at another one of Caleb’s anecdotes. The two men warmed to each other rather quickly once the alcohol started flowing. Laughing and joking in the way that men do. You cherished seeing them together like this, your two favorite people in the whole world. You couldn't wipe the smile from your face if you tried.

Caleb took another sip, still humming in amusement.

“I tried to tell Patrick he couldn't handle the altitude but he just wouldn't listen.” the pilot-to-be shook his head, “I've never seen anyone vomit that much in the simulator.”

“Sounds like a classmate of mine.” Zayne mused, “He gets sick at the sight of blood, yet wants to be a doctor? I don't think I will ever understand.”

Both men reach for the bottle, their hands colliding on the glass before pulling away clumsily.

“Sorry, you go ahead.”

“No, it's all yours.”

You sigh, grabbing the empty bottle and giving it a shake for their benefit.

“It's empty, dinguses,” you say with a sloppy grin. “Should someone go to the store for more?”

“No need,” Caleb grunts a bit as he stands, heading to the bedroom for a couple of confusing moments before reappearing with an ornate glass bottle of brown liquid. “I keep this for rainy days. Pip can't handle it, but what about you?”

Zayne smirks, sliding his glass over.

“I do have a fondness for whiskey,” he replies.

You fold your arms in a pout.

“What? And I'm just expected to sober up?”

Caleb smiles, pouring Zayne a shot.

“Check your bedside table.”

You smile at him in question, but he gestures you off with a nod of his head. “Go on.”

With an excited leap, you lurch from your chair, skipping to the bedroom to hunt for your present...whatever it is.

After some glancing around in the dark, you spot it. Illuminated by the smallest sliver of moonlight, near the shadow of your lamp, is a crinkled stick made of paper. You can smell its contents the moment you lay eyes on it, a heavenly sour blend of earth that you knew all too well. You snatch the joint without hesitation and fish a lighter from the drawer. Caleb always got you the best Kush. You didn't know where from, and you didn't care a wink. His little gifts were the only thing getting you through college free of a mental breakdown.

After blazing up and taking a couple much much-needed long hits, you saunter back into the living area with a more relaxed gait. The tension in your shoulders melts as the herb stings your lips, smoke trickling from your nostrils as you plop back down happily in your seat.

Caleb smiles over you in that warm, endearing way that makes your insides dance. He looked so handsome in the dim light. His purple eyes sparkled with mischief as he tossed back another shot.

You can't restrain your affections any longer.

Once Caleb was back in his seat, you moved to his lap, straddling him with a grin and a kiss. He welcomes you with a warm hand cupping your ass, squeezing just hard enough to hurt a little, and you loved it.

“Let’s all play a game.” you giggle, turning around on top of him so your upper body weight is supported by the table while he still cradles your hips. You look at Zayne with a warm smile, one he can never say no to. “It will be fun.”

Zayne looks at Caleb for a long moment before he looks back at you.

“What do you have in mind?”

You sit up, taking another long drag on your joint.

“Truth.” You lean forward again, breasts almost spilling from the top of your shirt. “Or dare.”

“Pipsqueak,” Caleb utters your name like a warning, his thumb stroking circles over the denim of your jeans. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Oh come on!” You whine, throwing your head against the polished wood. “It’s not a true celebration unless we do something silly.” You look at them both with doe eyes. “Please?”

“Fine, but let’s move to the couch.” Caleb picks you up, and drops you on your feet, patting your ass playfully as you skip toward the sofa.

Zayne follows, drink in hand.

Once the three of you are settled on the cushions comfortably, Caleb and Zayne share another shot over your head, cheering their glasses with a clink.

You pull your legs up, curling them underneath you so you don’t have to crane so much to see their faces.

“I’ll go first. Ask me.” You turn to Caleb expectantly, batting your lashes as he tucks your hair back.

“Truth or dare?” He hums, still gazing deep into your eyes.

“Dare.”

Caleb grins.

“I dare you to take a shot with us.”

Rolling your eyes, you smile. You saw that one coming a mile away. Caleb offered you his glass as he picked up the Jameson, pouring one out for you and Zayne and keeping the bottle for himself.

You hated whiskey. It was too rich, too strong, and the bittersweet sting of it lingered on your tongue for hours to come. Yet, you tossed it back without a single complaint, handing the glass back to your boyfriend with a superior smirk.

“My turn.” you shift, spinning on the cushion to face Zayne. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth, I suppose.” Zayne wipes a drop from his lip with a calculated swipe of his fingers.

“What happened with the girl in the food court?”

He smiled, almost laughing. He should have expected the question from you.

“She choked, that was true. Only, I wasn't present for that. The man who gave her the Heimlich punctured her lung. He couldn't have known, but she had dislocated a rib earlier at her rugby game. The resulting pressure from him trying to save her ended up putting her at even more dire risk.” His brow knit together as he recalled the events, his smile fading, “When I got there she wasn't breathing. I had to perform emergency thoracentesis to remove the excess fluid while we waited for paramedics.”

“Shit.” Caleb hissed under his breath, taking another drink.

“Whats, Thora-cent..ysis?” you ask, clumsily fumbling over the word.

Zayne lights up just slightly, inching closer to you to explain with his hands. He touches a spot between your lower ribs, and you twitch as it tickles.

“I poke a hole right here, to release the fluid buildup. Once she could breathe again, I kept the pressure on the wound until the medics arrived.” he removes his cold hand from your side, reaching for his drink again. He was starting to look red in the face. You wondered how drunk he was.

“That's incredible Zayne.” you breathe in awe, “They really should just make you a surgeon already.”

He chuckled.

“I still have a ways to go before I get there.” his green eyes flick up to Caleb over your shoulder. “Truth or dare, captain?”

The word hangs for a while in the air between them. An old taunt from childhood, in those formative years before Caleb matched Zayne in size, and could still be teased without consequence. You feel Caleb tense beside you, but his expression remains playful.

“Dare,” he commands.

“How predictable.” Zayne scoffs, tapping his chin as he thinks. “Alright. I dare you…to let me kiss your girlfriend.”

“Zayne!” You gasp, covering your mouth both from the shock but also to hide your unshakable grin.

Caleb, to your surprise, laughs.

“Trying to get me out this early in the game? Nuh-uh.” he chided, pulling your face forcefully into his lips as he planted a passionate, slobbering kiss on you. When he released you, he smeared his spit across your mouth with a wicked grin, practically pushing you into Zayne’s arms. “She's all yours.”

Zayne raised an eyebrow. He hadn't truly expected Caleb to allow this, he just wanted to win the game. Though, as you look up at him patiently, he wonders if he maybe had ulterior motives after all.

Zayne’s cool fingers brush your cheek before gently pulling you toward him. His arms wrapped around you, and he shifted to let you settle in his lap as he bent to meet your lips. Your breath catches as his tenderness soaks into your bones, the kiss light and sensitive. He doesn't stop after one or two. No. He holds you firm until he's had his fill of little kisses, passionate in his quiet way.

By the time he's done with you, your chest is heaving, and your face is red. You're afraid to look back at your boyfriend, who undoubtedly regrets his decision to stay in the game. Yet when you finally look at Caleb again, he seems unphased, tossing back another shot with only a subtle flush under his eyes.

“Truth or dare?” he asks you bluntly, keeping his eyes locked on Zayne.

“Truth.” You whisper, wanting to steer the game in a different direction - though the palpable tension in the air suggested it was much too late for that.

“Did you like him kissing you?” Caleb asks immediately.

“Caleb…” you move toward him, but one strong hand grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from touching him.

“Answer.”

“…yes.” your reply is scarcely audible over your heartbeat, pounding like drums against your skull.

“Zayne? Truth or dare?” Caleb continued, letting you go.

Zayne’s brow tightened, he knew he was being backed into a corner. Caleb always did this, even when they were kids. Zayne might've been the oldest but Caleb was always the one in control, and neither of them cared to lose. Not then, not now.

“Dare.”

You sank back between them, just praying things didn't escalate the same way they did on the playground all those years ago.

“Kiss her again.” Caleb's tone darkened as he took another shot.

You sit up, shocked.

“Caleb!”

Zayne wasted no time, he cupped your face and pulled you into another deliciously tender kiss.

You push him off with a grunt, fighting the pleasure back into its hiding place deep inside you.

“Enough!” you snap, standing from the couch in a huff, “I’m not a stick to measure your dicks with!”

Silence.

What had you just said? Was that what you meant to say? “No, I mean,” you stutter, a smile cracking your serious expression, “The stick isn't me, just that you two - stop -” you chuckle despite yourself “I'm not a toy, is what I mean!”

You look up, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. The two young men share a look of confusion before they too break into laughter.

“Come’ere Pipsqueak,” Caleb opens his arms in wait, and you happily fly to him. He wraps you in a comforting embrace, stroking your hair. “We know what you meant. I'm sorry.”

“Me too.” Zayne agreed. “I'm so very sorry. That was…childish of me.”

“Of both of us,” Caleb adds, kissing your forehead. “Forgive us?”

You rub your eyes with a grin, nodding. You couldn't stay mad even if you wanted to, the weed saw to that.

“You were right. This game was a bad idea.”

“No…” Caleb hummed reassuringly, “To be honest, watching you two was kinda hot.”

Zayne chuckled, thinking Caleb was joking, but you knew better. His tone was sincere, aroused even.

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

Caleb shrugs and nods.

“What? I can't have kinks?” He tickles you, making you laugh and wriggle in his arms.

“Of course you can!” you exclaim, trying to break away. “I just would never expect that to be one.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Zayne asks, finally catching on. His cheeks were bright red.

“Relax Doctor,” Caleb said, nuzzling your neck as he crawled over you. You giggled, scooting back until you were in Zayne’s lap again, Caleb still nibbling at your throat. “We don't bite.”

He pulls off of you, his violet eyes lidded with lust. You look up at Zayne, who is in a similar state of distress.

“Truth or dare?” you ask the green-eyed boy behind you, your voice shaking with excitement.

He lets out a stuttered gasp.

“Dare.”

[candychocolate]

how i think ace attorney characters did in school

phoenix: so bad in math and science and had to beg teachers to pass him multiple times. good in the arts and english though

larry: habit of skipping school and goofing off. managed to graduate on time only through summer school and help from nick

miles: classic teachers pet in elementary. homeschooled by tutors at von karma estate. excelled

franziska: excelled twice as much

mia: college was a massive learning curve for her after year of her only education being from kurain village. pulled through out of sheer determination

maya: im not convinced anyone taught her math above a 6th grade level or geography. its fine she probably doesnt need it

pearl: WAS taught the above stuff by morgan just so she could be better than maya. exclusively the above stuff morgan didnt teach her anything else. she knows algebra and not division

apollo: teachers pet like miles but instead of doing it naturally he stayed up for like 3 hours a night doing homework and barely had a life

klavier: always talking in class but got good enough grades no one could really argue with him about it. take out your headphones

kristoph: had a onesided academic rival and was convinced he somehow flopped a quiz so he swapped their sheets but then he got the lower mark. i heard someone spiked that kids waterbottle with vodka and he got suspended wonder who did that

trucy: in highschool but only goes a few times a month. shes busy working and doesnt have friends at school so she mostly does her work from home. passing grades and not much better. pushes herself to graduate early once her career really takes off

[oceansblvds]

I SENT THE ASK ABT TEACHER CORYO IM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE TA/PROFESSOR SNOW 😝

OKOKOK IM GONNA WRITE SOME HEADCANONS BUT I MIGHT HONESTLY EXPAND THIS INTO A FULL FIC BC im a whore!

warning(s): nsfw, obsessive behavior, lowkey an abuse of power

coriolanus, almost out of university, was selected to teach a higher level math class on the account of dr. gaul saying he needed a little bit more experience with teaching and leadership if he was to be head gamemaker. so, he was a TA, teaching under a professor but was basically given full rein with the class, as the professor seemed to focus more on research than teaching the class. the second he was in the lecture discussion, he saw you walk in. you were a junior, just a year under him in university and god were you beautiful. almost mouth wateringly so. it made him sick in the head at how pretty you were.

and gods above, you were smart, almost as smart as he was (though he wouldn't ever admit that) and it was clear that you liked him. you always smiled when he complimented your high scores on tests and quizzes, and would read the notes that he put in the margins of your essays with a glimmer in your eyes. he needed to talk to you, needed to be closer to you, and the only way that he could think of was to give you slightly lower marks on your essays and homeworks. never on a test, he would never want to drop your grade low enough for it to be concerning, but he did wait for you to stumble into his office hours. and you did. you asked him how you could do better on the material, and he told you that he'd help you.

he didn't have an office, only a classroom that he was lent during his office hours in the top floor of the math building. it was there that you would meet him, every tuesday and thursday, to go over problems. he liked the way that your lip would be bitten in between your teeth when you were looking at a particularly hard problem, or when you would look at him with your big doe eyes when you asked him for help. and whenever you asked him for help, he would lean closer, and explain it to you.

one day, he finally got the courage to make a move. you asked him for help and he placed his hand on your thigh, as if he was using it to keep himself steady as he leaned over. but instead of watching him explain on the paper, you kept your attention on his face. and then he pushed his hand further up your thigh, under your skirt, and you didn't stop him. your hand came to his and you pushed it up until it was cupping your pussy. he fingered you right then and there, hoping beyond hoping that no one else would walk into his office hours for help. the two of you made out while he fingered you, going as far as to press three fingers into you, with a squelching sound, your moans echoing through the room softly.

that became somewhat of a normal thing. you two always met during his office hours, until you decided to go to his home one day for some extra tutoring. it ended with you in his large bed with your legs spread, while he put his fingers in your mouth as he fucked you with such fervor that you were sure you were going to break.

sometimes when he was grading papers, you would slink under his desk and pull his cock out, spitting on the tip and bobbing your head up and down until he gave you the attention you wanted. he always fantasized about you doing this when he was teaching another class, with you working him with your mouth as he sat on his desk and no one else knew the wiser. he would have to try that with you one day.

lots of words like how dirty you were for sleeping with your teacher. "you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" "show me how good you've gotten" when you were riding him. "you probably fantasize about my cock in class, don't you?" it was all so derogatory. and other times he would praise you. he would tell you how smart and beautiful you were. he would let you cum when you got a problem right while he sat under the desk, eating you out. when you got a problem wrong, he would stop, and no amount of begging would get him to continue unless you continued your work.

[11queensupreme11]

AHHH ! I’m so glad you like my modern au !

Ok so Percy’s dad is still pjo Poseidon lol sorry ! Him and sally were one of those Sumer romances and he did lowkey wanna stay but pjo Zues ( bozo telenevela level drama queen ) has a hissy fit and his family have him stuck to his og wife. Sally was first with Gabe then divorced ( Loki found out and burried his ass in cement ) Rn Sally is Happy and married in nyc with Paul !

Percy goes to college in Long Island and lives with Grover and anthonius ! ( thanks for the ideas btw I love it !!!) Grover works at a nonprofit to save the ecosystem and he too won’t show up yet since he was raising money to preserve an endangered plant. They both still pay for rent but are currently off doing their stuff at the begening of the story.

Because of that Percy mostly hangs out with her other friends, Brunhilde a law major and her little sister Goll a highschool senior who is currently doing a nursing tech ( I went to a highschool in Long Island where you could do that I think it was also called Boces )

As for how Percy ends up at a frat party ! Her apartment neighbor Drew calls her panicked because she was at a frat party and her idiot sorority sister piper acted a fool cause the both of them had a thing for Jason ( Percy’s cousin ) whose this really nice dude who’s only in the same frat as Cu cause of his idiot dad wanted him to follow his legacy. Anyways shit went south so Percy went to help her and met one of the banes of her existences in the process.

For the health issues I could totes see Apollo clocking her in the hospital he has his residency in and breaking all The doctor codes to see what’s wrong with her ( I still don’t know what illness to give her lol ) he then proceeds to coddle her like she’s some fragile girly, he’ll lift her stuff, walk her home, feed her, people assume they’re dating or married with how he dotes on her.

And omg yes ! Hades would put his mouth in his foot and hire Beel as her new math tutor, Beel is also a sad bozo loner who’s only freind Lilith is currently off abroad because she’s a photographer usually and curbs his less ethical ways and is a voice of reason but with her gone he’s been spiraling internally. Then this brat who can’t do math and wears blue dyslexia glasses barged in to his life… and no he doesn’t like her even when she brings him food and check in on him… and she’s definitely not his new bestie…

Loki and Percy’s friendship ??? Kinda happened from him being semi related to Goll and Brun, so it tends to be them plus Thor on sleepovers and movie theater nights, of course at first they were passive aggressive as shit but one drunk night and they’re chill ? Ok not really but he’s a beloved grimlin that crawled out of somewhere and Percy tolerates him ( also cause she doesn’t know he turned her abusive step dad into a cement statue )

And although pjo pos wasn’t with Sally he’s actually a pretty good dad when he can be, he’ll send her fish shaped plushies and even secretly paid for her college, he even owns the apartment complex she lives in and keeps the rent affordable. Him and Percy go fishing every summer and he even own one of those #1 dad mugs ( Percy made it in a pottery class ) also HE PAYS HIS CHILD SUPORT !!! The only reason Percy and Sally struggled at first was cause gave was a shitty abusive ass but as soon as Sally could girly pop ran.

Also not to confuse things I think the pjo gods would be named after their Roman counter parts to make it easier.

As for ror Poseidon man did he not like her at first ! She’s this pretty looking girl who can’t read for shit always wears blue sunglasses indoors ( he doesn’t realise they’re dyslexia glasses ) and smells like coffee and cookies. He had beef with a college girly ( looser ) then they have a dramatic stuck in the elevator moment where he finds out oh hey… she’s not that bad I guess ? And then when he realises she loves marine life as much as him he is obsessed ! So what if she’s the only one who gets praised ? Or better grades ? Or the only one who gets to go on his internship in the summer ? She’s perfect…. ( bro is delulu )

Also I deff wanna hear anyone else’s ideas about the au it would be so fun 😋

I FORGOT TO ADD THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ASK. but since beelzebub was made her tutor only because anthonius was gone..... imagine him crashing out when anthonius comes back and percy tells him "hey beelie, i just wanted to let you know that you don't have to tutor me anymore because my friend came back! yaaaaay now ur free of me, haha!!! 😄"

also, i'm picturing ways they find out about anthonius lmao.

like for beelie, it's what i said above. she drops him as a tutor cuz anthonius is back and she's all like "i bet ur super happy cuz now you don't have to deal with me anymore haha!! 💖💖💖" and he's just crying internally

for cú chulainn idk, maybe he goes to the cafe to be a menace again, but she's on break and talking to some other dude and he's just fuming. or maybe he tries to mess with her again like always, but then ANTHONIUS who doesn't give a shit who cú chulainn or his family is, steps up to tell him to fuck off??? idk lol knowing cú chulainn, he'd probably start a fight ngl

and for anubis.... hmmmmmm........... maybe he goes to visit her sometime near closing time. percy's always last to leave and she and anubis sometimes meet up at that time so she can make a special treat for him and kebi, but maybe this one time he goes there only to see her talking with some dude 💔💔💔💔💔 and he's just... face-pressed into the window like 🥺 or something and anthonius and percy are like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️

for poseidon..... he'd definitely be evil enough to have a 9 AM class and percy ALWAYS does her best to show up in time but one day she was late and when he asks her about it she's like "oh sorry! my friend anthonius came back from rome and we stayed up super late celebrating! 😅💖" and he crashes out

and with hades.......... hmmmm maybe anthonius finds out that hades has been snatching her up for random meetings in his office and anthonius is all like "umm percy... that's a little concerning, maybe you shouldn't do that anymore" and she listens and stops coming 💀💔

and for loki, since you mentioned that she hangs out at the valkyries' place (and loki by extension), maybe he notices that she hasn't been visiting frequently and asks brunhilde and she's all like "oh percy's friend that she may or may not be in love with came back from rome so she's been hanging out with him. btw they live together lol" 😂😂😂😂😂

for apollo, maybe the same with beel! she calls him up and is like "hey apollo! i'm so sorry i've been making you waste so much time with taking care of me.... you don't have to do it anymore! my friend came back, he can handle it! thank you for everything!!! 💖💖" and he loses it LMAO

[moomine]

sober thoughts | warren graham

(cover image credit)

summary: (drunk!warrengraham x sober!reader) You and Warren have been friends long before getting accepted to Blackwell Academy. One night, you find Warren drunk after a vortex club party, and make sure he gets home safely. Little do the two of you know, you're both interested in being more than just friends.

word count: 2,577

warnings: no trigger warnings (just fluff here)! all characters are 18+

now playing: Radiohead - "Thinking About You"

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Once a week, the evening at Blackwell Academy was consumed by loud, bumping house music and drunken teenagers partying like it was their last day on Earth. The Vortex Club, Blackwell's royal family, would commandeer the swimming pool to host their lavish soirees. You had been to a couple, but the noise and the smell of drunk, sweaty teens quickly became unappealing. As the semesters went on, you started leaving campus to avoid the events altogether, deciding to occupy your time studying at the public library, grabbing breakfast for dinner at the Two Whales, or walking the beach. Anything that sounded remotely more interesting.

That night was different. It seemed like you were the only person who didn't want to attend tonight's party, let alone be anywhere near campus. Around 11:30 at night, you decided to pack up your things and return to the dorms for bed. As you pulled into the parking lot of Blackwell, you could already hear the loud music and ever-familiar chatter. you parked your car and turned off the ignition, stepping out into the cool September night air with a slight shiver. The music was intolerably loud, and you realized that, regardless of the time and your distance from the school, you'd still hear it faintly in your dorm that night.

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair as you looked around the parking lot at students coming and going from the party. In the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar figure, Warren Graham, sitting on the curb, curled in on himself with his head in his arms.

You and Warren had been friends for a while. Science and math were never your strong suit, unlike him. You much preferred writing and the arts to experiments and calculations. When you were freshmen, he helped you when you started to fail biology, tutoring you after school and being your buddy in class. After that, you two started hanging out from time to time. You watched movies, talked about video games and comics, and bonded over your mutual fade-into-the-background-ness back at your home school and, unfortunately, when you guys were accepted to Blackwell as well. However, Warren never faded into the background for you. Even before the two of you became friends, you noticed his presence very quickly. When the sight of his nose wrinkling while he laughed made your heart skip a beat, you realized that maybe you liked him as more than just a friend.

Your expression softened as you approached him. Whatever negativity you harbored toward the party was washed away, now replaced by worry and concern for the boy sitting alone.

"Hey, Warren," you said, softly, crouching to his level. "You okay?"

It was like your words stirred Warren back to consciousness. Not necessarily that he was asleep, but rather that he wasn't all there. Like he was sinking into the ground and hearing your voice was enough to bring him closer to the surface again. He lifted his head like it was too heavy for his neck to support, almost immediately using his shoulder as a rest for his head of dirt-colored hair. A tender, excited smile stretched across his thin lips, making his eyes crinkle ever so slightly and his cheeks lifted with happiness. He looked tired, but behind the fogginess in his eyes, you could see he was happy to see you.

"Hey, you..." he slurred as he tried to sit up a little straighter. "I'm much better now." His words dragged, dripping from his lips in a sing-song, honeyed tone.

You smiled. "Oh yeah? How much have you had to drink?"

Warren looked off for a moment, staring past you rather than directly at you. Slowly, the gears in his head were starting to turn, twisting with each other as he traced his memory back for each shot he had taken along with the handful of beers he had either sipped on or shotgunned. The boy who was usually so good at math was struggling to work out simple addition, the alcohol hindering his intelligence. He looked down at his hands, now counting out on his fingers before he stuck both of them up in the air with a proud smile. While holding down his pointer finger with his thumb on one hand, he expertly determined he had had about eight drinks (which was most certainly a vast overestimation on his part). Your eyes widened at the realization, shaking your head with a sigh.

"That's... a lot," you paused, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I feel funny. But not bad funny," Warren started, leaning in as his voice dropped to a loud whisper. "I'm so happy you're here. I missed you."

Your cheeks flushed a subtle pink. Under the light of sparse street lamps in the parking lot, it was hard to see but you could certainly feel it. Heat rose through your body as he leaned in. You swallowed, your throat suddenly feeling extremely dry.

"I missed you too." Your tone was soft and genuine. You tried your best to hide your flusteredness, but you knew you were failing. At least he was wasted, you thought. There was no chance Warren could tell in the state he was in. "How about we get you to your dorm?"

The boy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. "Noooo... I don't want the night to end. I'm not even tired."

"You don't have to go to bed, silly," you tried to convince him. "I just thought you'd want to get out of this boring parking lot."

"Can we watch a movie?" His eyes lit up as he spoke, and his hands found your shoulders.

You nodded with an amused smile, and your body rocked as he shook you. "Sure thing, whatever you want to watch. Now, let's get you up, okay?"

You reached for Warren's hands, taking them in your own as you came to your feet. With a good pull, you were able to get him clumsily on his own. Warren swayed from side to side as he tried to gain his balance again, rocking on his heels.

"You got it?" you asked, keeping your hands out to catch him in case he fell.

"I think so," Warren mumbled, putting a heavy hand on your shoulder to balance himself.

"Here, I got you," you started as you pulled his arm around your shoulders. "We'll do it together."

"You're the best. I'm so lucky you're my friend," he mumbled. His head rested against yours like a heavy stone.

A small laugh slipped through your lips and you nodded —once again grateful for the darkness cloaking your flushed face, as you two started your walk to the boy’s dormitories. With each step you took, Warren struggled to keep himself up, leaning against your body as he put his full weight on you.

"I wish you would have gone..." he murmured, staring ahead with a blank expression.

"Gone where?" you asked.

Warren waved haphazardly with his other hand, trying to motion back to the noise behind you guys. "The party, duh."

You tried to look up at him but couldn't, his head keeping you from meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you wanted me there."

"I only ever want to see you," Warren slurred.

Your eyes widened at his words, but you shook it off. You reminded yourself that he was drunk and not completely in control of his words. Plus, Warren was known to be a bit of a drama queen.

"What if I go to the next one with you? Would that make you feel better?"

"Yeah." Within an instant, his tone became lighter, happier.

The music grew quieter the further you got from the party. Straggling students lingered around the courtyard before the dorms, talking amongst each other and seemingly enjoying a break from the excitement of the party. Cricket's song and the breeze through tree branches created an atmosphere that was far more relaxing within the night air. It felt like a whole other world in comparison to the flashing lights and chaos several feet away.

You two sunk into the dorms, and the warmth from inside wrapped around you like an inviting hug. It was close to silent within the hallway as you approached Warren's dorm room.

You reached for the door handle, the knob not budging as you attempted to open the door. "You have your key, right?"

Warren hummed in acknowledgment. He dug into his pocket, lazily pulled the key from his jeans, and handed it to you. You unlocked the door and walked him inside, leading him to his bed so he could sit down. The room was dark before you turned on his bedside lamp. Warren was very much a no-overhead-light-ever kind of person, something we had in common. Warm yellow light illuminated the small space once the lamp was switched on. Along his brick walls were posters of comic book characters, bands, and his favorite movies. A mess of loose papers and clothing was scattered across the floor. As per usual, Warren's room was a wreck but not disgusting. Sure, he'd leave dirty clothes on his floor, but any food waste he had was quickly and efficiently thrown out.

On his windowsill was a line of nursery pots, all with individual tabs labeled with different notes and specimens. Must be an experiment for one of his classes, you thought. His desk was covered in notebooks and textbooks alike, both marked up with sticky notes with some containing actual notes and others being doodles depicting his agony with chemistry. You laughed a little at the sight of it.

Warren let out a soft, content sigh from behind you as he eased himself into his bed. He looked over at you with a lopsided grin. "I haven't thought about the periodic table once tonight. Can you believe that?"

"I can actually. I'm surprised you can think at all after all you've had to drink," you teased, taking a seat beside him on the edge of his mattress. You reached over to untie his Chucks, pulling them from his feet and tossing them to the ground. There was no way you were going to change him, but the least you could do was help him get a little more comfortable.

He sat up beside you, laughing as you picked fun at him. "Hey... can I tell you something?"

You turned to face him and realized he was much closer than you had thought he would be, his face less than a foot away from yours. Your throat went dry as a desert, and you swallowed in an attempt to wet it.

"Of course," you nodded. "You can tell me anything."

"You promise?" Warren mumbled, averting his eyes from yours and focusing on the ground instead. His face was slightly flushed, his freckled cheeks dusted a soft pink.

"I promise." you reaffirmed, looking him up and down questioningly.

"There's been something I've been wanting to tell you, but I've always felt too..." he trailed off, his voice wavering. The alcohol on his breath served as a reminder of just how drunk he really was. "I've always been too nervous to say anything. But I'm not right now."

"Warren, you're drunk," you said, trying to deter him from continuing. A part of you wanted so desperately to know what he had to say, but you knew that once he was sober he'd likely regret telling you. If he'd even remember at all, that was.

Warren whined in a not-so-quiet protest. "I'm not that drunk. I'm feeling pretty sober now."

"You're wasted." You shook your head immediately.

"Please." He leaned in, his face once again rapidly growing closer and closer to yours. "Just let me finish."

Your eyes trailed over his face, fixating on his eyes and his lips. The warm brown of his irises was so inviting and only popped more in contrast to the dark circles forming under his eyes. They were like a warm, light cup of coffee first thing in the morning. His lips were stuck in a small pout of desperation. It was like he had been dying to let something off his chest, like once he said what he needed to everything would be okay forever. Or maybe it wouldn't, but it seemed like that was a risk he was willing to take.

"Warren, I..." The words felt caught in your throat, clinging to your dry tongue for dear life.

"Please," Warren pleaded, staring directly into your eyes now. "I like you. I have for so long and it's been eating me up inside." His words came out in a rushed flurry of emotion. He looked at you intensely, his eyes overflowing with admiration and something you couldn't quite place. "You don't have to say anything... Hell, you don't even have to like me back. I just wanted to tell you..."

"Hey, hey, hey. Slow down," you said, putting a hand on his knee to grab his attention.

Warren's eyes dropped from yours to your hand. His lips parted as he fell silent, staring back at you with uncertainty abundantly clear all over his face. The alcohol in his system made him feel more confident, but not so much that he didn't care about what happened next. You felt bad watching him sit there at the edge of his seat.

"Maybe we should talk about this in the morning? Y'know, when you're more clear-head—" Warren cut you off before you were able to finish.

"No," he insisted, looking you dead in your eyes. "I mean it. You... you gotta believe me."

"I do," you said as you leaned in closer. "I like you too."

"What?"

"I said I like you too." You smiled at him, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. "But right now you're drunk and it's late, and I think we should talk about it more tomorrow, okay? What if we grab breakfast at Two Whales in the morning? Like a date."

"You... you wanna go on a date with me?" Warren's expression was priceless, filled with excitement and disbelief.

You nodded. "Of course I do. The sooner we get to sleep, the sooner we can. So you better get some shut-eye, got it?"

Without a word, Warren was lying on his back and struggling to get under his covers. You couldn't help but laugh as you stood up, leaning over once he was all tucked in and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. His breath hitched and he giggled like a little girl. As Warren started dozing off you searched around the room and situated a quick "hangover kit" for him on his nightstand. He was going to need it in the morning.

"Goodnight, Warren," you said, heading for the door. "Sleep on your side, okay?"

He hummed and turned over so he was facing you. The fight to stay awake was quickly becoming too much for him as his eyes began to slowly flutter closed. "Mhm, goodnight..."

Your gaze drifted to him once more before you stepped out of the room, closing the door behind you. As you walked up the stairs to your dorm, you felt your heart start to swell thinking about the fact that the Warren Graham liked you too. And that you were going on a date with him tomorrow morning. Maybe those Vortex Club parties weren't all bad after all.

[verysium]

ACT 1, SCENE 3: blue lock headcanons

sae is into skincare: lotions, serums, the whole set. he and rin used to have self-care nights as children during which they would sit in bed with matching face masks and watch cartoons on the family tablet. if they were in a good mood, they would let you join.

barou listens to classical while working out. no joke. this man is so insanely focused he will shoot goals and play paganini at the same time. his work ethic is low-key why you were attracted to him the first place.

nagi is lazy to the point he will deliberately buy five pairs of the same exact pants just to save himself the trouble of having to choose an outfit in the morning. thank god for reo otherwise nagi would still be dressing like he just crawled out of bed. he still can't do much about his bedhead though.

rin desperately wanted to join sae in the deeper end of the community pool; however, he was deathly afraid of drowning. his only logical solution was to cover himself in pool floaties while he dipped a single toe into the water. even to this day, he still has traumatic memories of that experience. you need to hold his hand every time.

kaiser acts like his football prowess comes entirely from natural talent. in reality, he trains to an obsessive degree behind the scenes. you could come home at midnight, and he would still be there replaying every single highlight of his recent game. he is the type to keep detailed notes about all the players he went up against.

isagi likes to walk around his hometown of saitama and just observe the snapshots of life around him. whether it's a street vendor, children playing on a grass patch, or a couple in the sunset, he secretly enjoys these little vignettes of human experience. he would become sentimental when it comes to you. sometimes you have to pull his head out of the clouds.

nagi has parents who work overseas, so the most he sees of them is through video calls or holiday presents. occasionally, he also gets a birthday card shipped through international mail. when you threw him his first surprise party, he secretly felt touched because his family was never big on physical celebrations.

sae is ridiculously good at anything that involves data and calculations. he participated in a math competition one time in junior high, and he would have made it to the national level had he not been entirely focused on football. refused to tutor rin in algebra though because apparently his little brother has to figure out everything for himself. if it were you though, he would begrudgingly agree.

bachira holds the world record in procrastination. his notebook, pencil, and eraser are still as untouched and pristine as they were on the first day of the academic school year. he does not know what a book is, nor has he read one. he only studied because you refused to cuddle with him otherwise.

ego eats so many cups of instant ramen noodles that his glasses begin to fog up from time to time. anri has to clean the frames and lenses weekly just to make sure his myopic self can even see. at this point, she's the real MVP of the entire series.

barou likes to open the windows right after it rains because he enjoys the sweet smell of petrichor. his ideal day would be spent lounging on a couch with some tea and a novel. it would be even more perfect if you snuggled under the blankets with him.

niko sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night, immensely insecure about his forehead. he thinks it looks giant though it really isn't. you have to brush his fringe back and pepper kisses down his face and remind him that a big forehead means a big, sexy brain, so it really isn't that bad. he believes you and goes back to sleep.

shidou would make fun of boomers. in fact, he'd ridicule every single person he considers past their prime. he does not believe in any form of authority, nor does he like being told what to do. if he had his way, he would have turned the entire world into anarchy a long time ago. the only reason why he doesn't wake up and make himself everyone's problem is because he doesn't want to upset you.

kaiser knows he is very well-endowed physically, so he purposefully walks around your apartment shirtless. if he catches you eyeing him, he will make a big deal out of it. tries to not-so-subtly flex his biceps every time he reaches for the milk carton.

reo loves cocktail dresses, especially in the wine red shade. something about the accentuated figure and natural curves gives him goosebumps. his favorite part of you is when your tummy slightly protrudes after you've eaten too much. you might think it's embarrassing, but he thinks it's adorable.

rin only uses shower gel, mostly because he learned his lesson after using the locker room shower stalls. never use bar soap, always use bottled. he's also the type to always have shower shoes. sae taught him that.

bachira is the type of student to completely misread the question and still not feel bad after the teacher points it out. oh no, he was actually supposed to solve for x, not just circle it? he'll shrug it off like nothing ever happened. at least he tried. the teacher should be grateful for his effort.

sae says he does not understand the sentiments behind cute couple traditions but then proceeds to get upset when you show up to his game without wearing his jersey. would definitely get you matching bracelets for your anniversary.

aiku has a high spice tolerance. he would definitely drown his food either in sriracha or buldak sauce. if you can't handle spicy though, he would set aside a separate plate just for you and manually spoon out the food just to make sure you have something to eat too.

aryu never has dry cuticles. he is always trimming and filing to perfection. sometimes he has beef with your nail tech because he thinks he could have done so much better on your acrylics. refuses to let you go to a salon because he already has all the tools and expertise necessary.

sae does not know how to cook. his manager has always ordered take-out for him. the one time he tried to use a microwave, he completely misread the package instructions and nearly burned the entire building down. called you up with the straightest face afterwards to tell you that the smoke alarms were not shutting off.

barou unconsciously caves into peer pressure. every single new trend makes him rethink his personal style. however, he views it all with an old man mentality. like what are these youngsters doing these days? dying their hair every possible color of the rainbow? he has to do that too. proceeds to call aryu to add red streaks into his own hair. sometimes you have to remind him that external opinion should always taken with a grain of salt.

chigiri has a major sweet tooth. if you so much as bake him one single treat, he will have made plans to put a ring on your finger before he even finishes the damn pastry. his ideal partner is someone mature and understanding who can take care of him well. definitely likes the homemaker type.

gagamaru is the seeing friend in your relationship. no matter how many trips he makes to the optometrist, he will always come back with perfect 20/20 vision. definitely a nature enthusiast, and he loves hiking. even if you're blind as a bat, he will always be there to hold your hand in the dark.

© verysium 2023 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works

[realcube]

dilf december

day twenty-two ⭑ kotaro bokuto ⭑ snow man!

tw: fluff, reader gets picked up, slight flashing & age gap

bokuto was terrible at maths.

so it was only natural that he would need to hire a tutor for his kids as soon as they progressed past bokuto's level of numeric ability and he could no longer help them with their homework or topics they were struggling in. hence, as soon as they returned home with worksheets about fractions, he immediately went online to find a private tutor.

however, he went on a website that had pictures of the tutors alongside their names and qualifications, meaning that he inadvertently treated his search more like a dating site than a recruitment process. that is how, despite being able to afford a tutor with a phd in maths and a masters in education, he chose you — a struggling college student who charges prices on the lower end of the scale, since you had yet to attain a teaching degree.

he couldn't have made a better decision though! by now, he had hired you for around a year, thus he has gotten to know you quite well and he can tell you work exceptionally with his children — you teach them in a way that is both comprehensive and engaging, and their grades have seen a massive improvement because of you. he couldn't be more grateful.

today it was a cold winter afternoon, and you had just finished up a lesson with his children. bokuto doesn't like to hover during the sessions but he wants to stay nearby in case you need something, so he was currently in an adjacent room and is able to overhear you say your goodbyes to the kids, as well as them packing up their textbooks and scampering off to their rooms.

he peers into the room, seeing you at the dining table, packing up your equitment. you notice him, so he offers you a bright smile, "how'd it go?" he asks.

"good." you chirp, slipping your laptop and pens neatly into your backpack, "we're working on geometry right now. they both seem to understand area, so we will work on volume next week."

bokuto has no clue what any of those words mean — he may have if you asked him 20 years ago, but not anymore — he's just glad to hear that his children aren't struggling. "volume, already?! woah, i've got a pair of little genius' in my house!" he joked, crossing his arms over his chest and walking towards the window, "that's all thanks to you, though. i'll tell them to mention you in their speeches when they accept the noble prize."

you laughed with him, and there is a little flutter in your stomach as passes you, and you not only catch the lingering scent of his fresh cologne, but you also get a peek of his muscular back — you were aware that he was a retired volleyball player, but it still astounded you how he was able to remain in such an impressive shape. it was so tempting; all you could think about when he was in the room was how much you'd like to be squished between his biceps.

while he talks away, he peers out the window that overlooks the driveway, and frowns. one of the cons of owning such a large house is that it comes with an equally massive driveway, which you always insist to park at the bottom of because you don't want to 'intrude on their space', even though bokuto has assured you several times that you're welcome to park where ever you like and parking closer would surely be more convenient for you. however, he's unaware that the real reason you continue parking so far away from the house is that you don't want to park near the rest of his expensive cars and risk damaging one of them, but you keep this secret to yourself as you don't want him to think you're an incompetent driver.

anyway, during the two hour session you had just completed with his children, it has been raining, and although it had ceased by now, the cold weather in tandem with the damp ground has rendered his entire driveway an icy slipping-hazard! to get to one of his cars could be feasible, but your car was quite a distance away, which would be a very perilous journey.

"the ground outside looks so icy.." he muses, and you shuffle up behind him, peering out the window over his shoulder.

"yeah.." you mumble, staring worriedly down at your uggs had barely any grip on the sole, indicating that you had a better chance at successfully ice-skating back to your car than walking. of course, you didn't want to complain in front of bokuto, so you said, "i'll be fine. a little fall never hurt anyone."

you make the comment with a tinge of amusement and banter in your voice, but bokuto just stares at you in horror, until he refutes with, "you could get really hurt, (y/n) and we don't want that." his parenting instincts kick-in as he explains to you the potential danger and gravity of the situation. as he does so, he guides you to the foyer, where there is a rack of shoes, and he picks up a thick pair of boots on the top shelf, "i bought these ice shoes online. they are supposed to stop you from slipping on the ice."

you nod, about to open your mouth to say 'thank you', but you catch yourself just in time, as — instead of handing them to you, like you expected — bokuto hastily straps the shoes on himself. shocked by this decision, you stagger, "oh, so are you going to walk out to my car and drive it closer?"

you stumble out the first possible idea that comes to your mind, even though it wasn't especially well thought-out. bokuto scoffs as he continues to properly fasten the ice boots, "if i did that, your car would slip and slide all over the place, no?" he asks, and though it may have sounded like a rheatorical question, bokuto was genuinely asking if he corrected predicted the outcome of that situation, which he did.

you furrow your brows, perplexed as to what course of action he planned on taking, so you finally ask, "how am i going to make it to my car if you are the one wearing the non-slip boots? shouldn't i put them on?"

he shakes his head, standing up straight and stomping each foot to ensure that he equipped the boots thoroughly, and he smiles as they remain secured to his feet. "i'll carry you!" he states merrily, like it was no big deal.

meanwhile, all the air was knocked out of your lungs at the mere thought of him carrying you. he must've quickly noticed you becoming light-headed and dissociating, as he inquires, "uh, (y/n), are you okay?"

you gulp down the lump in your throat , and it leaves a harsh sting of anxiety in its wake. "i'm fine, it's just i th—"

"okay, cool. let's go!" bokuto cheers before you are able to finish your statement, and in one swift movement, he scoops you up in his arms and effortless thrusts you straight over his shoulder, so your legs are dangling by his front and your upper body was against his back.

however, not only was this position causing all the blood to rush to your head, but also you were bend over while in a skirt which you could feel had rode up slightly, while bokuto's arm securely wrapped over your thigh, preventing you from pulling it down. so, before bokuto could possibly step outside and accidently expose you to his neighbours, you roughly squirmed in his grasp and protested, "bokuto! skirt!"

that was all you were able to manage while vigoursly wrestling out of his grasp, but thankfully that was enough to convey the message to bokuto, and he swiftly changed your orientation, so one of his arms was now hooked under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees — carrying you bridal style. he flashed you an awkward smile, and croaked, "my bad!"

"it's fine.." you mutter, subtly adjusting your skirt to protect your modesty.

"ready to go?" he asks, giving your shoulders a slight squeeze for emphasis.

"i guess so."

he nods. even with you in his arms, he is still able to extend his arms forward and pull the door open, and shut it behind him. then, slowly but surely, he begins to make his way down to your car. slowly but surely, one step at a time, making sure every movement is precise and calculated, without any rush.

your heart was beating a hole in your chest. you still couldn't fully process the fact you were being carried like a princess to your car by the dad of the kids you tutor. truthfully, you've always had quite a thing for the older bachelor, and you suspected he had similar feelings towards you, but considering the age difference, you always assumed that your relationship would never exceed mild flirtatious comment and chatter.

yet here you were; tucked safely in his strong arms as he carries you like a precious, weightless artifact down his driveway.

bokuto must've misread the excitment on your face for fear, as he chuckles, "you look so scared, (y/n). think i'm gonna trip or something?" he gazes down at you with his cheerful, honey eyes. when you reciprocate his comment with only a terrified look, he continues, "don't be. i won't let anything bad happen to you." and what made you're heart melt for him is that you could tell he was being sincere; with every slow, laboured movement, and the way his eyes were glued to the path in front him, you could tell he was diligently trying to keep you safe.

you still didn't respond, and the journey wasn't getting any quicker, so he attempts to make casual conversation, "this reminds me of my second wedding."

"second?" you ask in shock, under the impression he had only been married once.

"yeah, second wedding." he muses, recollecting of the events of the night, "she wanted me to carry her down the aisle to the carriage that was going to take us to the hotel, but we got married in the alps on a very snowy day, so that took a while."

"oh." you hum, entertained by his story but discontented that he didn't mention anything about the fact he had been married a second time, "did you book your wedding on a snowy day on purpose?"

"no, but it was fun anyway."

"that's good." you mumble, and since it was your turn to make idle coversation, you ask, "do think you'll have your third wedding while it's snowing too?"

he furrows his brows together in concentration, and recollects, "hm, no. my third wedding was on the beach."

was?! surely you must've misheard him, or maybe he just mispoke. there was no way he had been married three times. you wrack your brain for a way to ask for clairfication without seeming too overt or nosey, eventually staggering out, "so, where will your fourth wedding be?"

he blinks, then responds, "i don't know. but i know it will be my last one, and i'll have the most beautiful bride." his eyes momentarily avert from the icey pavement in front of him, only so he can meet your longing gaze. the moment is fleeting, before he returns to carefully trudging over the ice, but it fills you with an immense warm and comfort. something about resting in bokuto's arms and him looking at you with such a sweet glint in his eye was so wholesome, and it made you want to stay in this exact position forever.

therefore, you were almost disappointed when he finally reached the car, "we're here." he states gleefully, shooting you a playful wink as he says, "told you i'd get you here safe and sound, didn't i?" then, with great care, he slowly lowers your legs to the ground and gently places you down, keep a hold of your waist in case you fall over while finding your balance.

your hand finds it way to his bicep as you stable yourself, and you say, "thank you so much; you really didn't have to do all that for me."

"of course i did. i wasn't going to let you get hurt in my driveway." he shakes his head definitively, "it's not like it was hard, anyway. i might start carrying you into the house as well. would ya like that?"

he teases, and he can tell your answer from the way you tense up in hands.