#to keep it warm and teach it math

[roseofhybrids]

keep the egg warm, teach it math

[n3ssier]

fluffy nerdmin thoughts.. don't mind me :3

masterlist

nerd!armin who doesn't have great social skills, but still does everything in his power to understand and meet your needs

nerd!armin who takes you on a date to all the manga stores in town, before stopping by a warm cafe to let you enjoy a matcha as he pulls a 500ml can of monster out of his bag for himself to enjoy

nerd!armin who teaches you what he's learnt in class lately in order to help himself better understand the material and revise whilst also getting to speak to you

nerd!armin who knows everything there is to be known about computers and maths, but not a single thing about love

nerd!armin who is used to spending all day and night in his dorm, but will happily adjust to spending his weekends out in the city if that's what you enjoy

nerd!armin who spams you with tiktoks he found funny in the middle of the night as you sleep

nerd!armin who, even thought he doesn't take the same course as you, will learn the key areas of your course in order to help you understand and teach you

nerd!armin who makes a playlist with all the grunge/shoegaze songs he listens to that remind him of you

nerd!armin who keeps a cute sticker of a bunny on his laptop, just because you stuck it there

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 8: The Trapeze Artist's Fall

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 (You're here) - Pt 9 - Pt 10

It was his second week of school for him. In no way was he excited. Gotham was a fresh start for the young boy, private school was meant to be a fun experience - many would kill to be able to get premium education - but he finds he misses the countryside hills that he'd watch pass by as his mamă taught him how to spell and read. He misses his tată teaching him math and cool sciencey things.

He misses his family.

The school wasn't the problem, though he found he was falling behind in learning due to his homeschooled life beforehand. The problem was his classmates, the ridicule he'd get for simple slip-ups. It wasn't his fault English is his second language, it isn't his fault he slips-up.

Last Friday one boy in the class, Mac Doust, had put gum in his hair. Dick ended up crying in the bathroom until Alfred came to pick him up - not Bruce, no, Bruce was as unavailable as Dick's dead parents honestly.

Gripping the straps of his backpack Dick mutters under his breath, trying to assure himself he'd be okay. The whole weekend he had practiced hiding his accent so kids would think he was normal.

Upon walking into the school he held his head high and didn't mess around, he headed straight to class.

...

That's strange, why was the door only opened partly? Ms Xavier keeps the door wide open, always greeting Dick with a wide smile and some Romanian she had put in the effort of learning for him.

Dick opens the door hesitantly, peeking inside.

He only gets to see Mac's stupid grin before water is dumped on him, the metal bucket clanging on his head harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, he stands there, the bucket on his head as the sounds of giggles and cackles fill his ears. Warm tears contrast with the cold water soaking his face.

Dick went home early that day. The incident struck a chord in him. If he wanted to stop the bullying he had to become better than them, put in the work and effort.

He will be popular, he will be better.

He will never do that cruel prank to anyone. Never

Looking down at his phone as he walks he feels nothing but a cringing sort of pain. He stooped to a level he never thought he'd get to. It was disgusting really.

Dick feels like he's no better than Mac. That he's no hero. The video plays on loop as the man takes in the pained look on your face, he can't bring himself to look at the messages in the group chat.

They're most likely supporting it, congratulating him for doing what they all wished to do.

Hell, if he was in their place he'd probably be celebrating it too. But to be there, to be the reason you reacted that way, is sickening for the young male.

Even now all he can think about is himself, how he feels. God, how self-centered could he be? It's not like he was the victim in this.. But still, surely he can't be the true bad guy in this, right?

Dick had decided against getting driven home, he felt that if he walked to the manor in the rain it'd be enough to be even with you - look, we both ended up soaked! Everything's better now!

He chuckles under his breath at his thoughts - what would Aranea even think of him?

She'd probably be angry at him for his actions but comfort him, telling him the things he needed to hear. That it wasn't his fault, that Y/N was a bad person who deserved it.

Whatever words needed so he could sleep at night really..

Dick finally decides to exit the looping video, the image of you burnt into his mind forever.

He goes into his messages and pulls up Aranea's comm number - he had put it into his phone so they could talk off shift, something she was hesitant about but ultimately caved in.

He types out a simple message. Then another. Then another.

"Heyyyy!!! Are you busy rn??"

"It'd be cool to hang out and patrol together!!"

"Bruce doesn't have to know"

He stares at the messages, waiting for them to be marked as read. 1 minute turned into 5, then 5 turned into 10. Dick sighs and exits out of the message log, clearly Aranea is busy.

He gazes on the chat log "Y/N. 🤮"

Maybe he should message her? Say sorry and try to make it up to her.. Yeah, that's what Aranea would say to do! She was always about communication.

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm super sorry for what I did|

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm|

"I know you're|

"What I did wasn't right. I'm sorry that I did that because you had a different opinion than me. I never meant to make you cry, only angry, I promise!"

Finally happy with the message he sends it off.

Only to remember the wonderful fact that your phone is fried due to the water.

Lucky him. He sighs, fed up with this bad luck streak he's been having.

Suddenly he remembers that he has money! More than you can even imagine!

He can buy a new, amazing phone to make things even. Yes, it's perfect. Surely you'll forgive him now!

He changes course and heads to the nearest electronic store, determined to make things right in his head. The purchase was swift and quick, the best phone he could find in the place.

Now, all he had to do was go to your apartment and give it to you!

Lucky him Tim leaked your address to everyone in the family as soon as he entered your apartment. So, with a high head he makes the slightly anxiety-inducing journey to you.

Knocking on the door of the apartment Dick stands straight as a board. The door opens and on the other side is a woman, she has severe eye bags and (H/C) hair. She seemed to have just gotten back from work. Her grey, lifeless eyes peer at him with suspicion before realizing who he was and smiling brightly.

"Mr Grayson! What a pleasure, is there anything you need?" She asks, Dick internally cringes, there was something about her voice that just grated against his ears.

There was just something so... Off... About her.

Still, he does what he usually does. He smiles and remains patient.

"Hello ma'am, is your daughter available? Something had happened and well.." Dick trails off, he doesn't want to get on Y/N's mother's bad side.

Her mother's eyes seem to cloud over at the mention of an incident, yet her smile remains in tact, if not strained. It's possible you told her already..

"Oh. An incident? What has she done, Mr Grayson?" Her mother asks, dark undertones coat her otherwise curious words. Dick furrows his brows slightly at the sudden change in the woman's mood. "Ah, well, it was my fault. I had played a nasty prank on her and her phone was ruined, I bought a new one to make it up to her!" He shows the brand new phone in it's box.

The woman doesn't look impressed, still, she smiles and hums. "Hm. Well that's lovely! Would you like to come inside? She isn't home currently but I'm sure she'll be home soon."

Something in Dick tells him not to go inside. Something was wrong. Yet, he reminds himself that he is a hero, if anything happens he will be prepared.

So, he heads inside, trailing behind the woman as he takes in the dungeon-like interior. "It's a... Lovely place, ma'am" Dick says, hoping to seem polite. The woman scoffs.

"M/N, my name is M/N. No need for such formalities!" The woman hurriedly states before flicking her hand dismissively "Y/N's room is the second door. You can wait there, or, if you want, you can hang around me!" She smiles sweetly, too sweetly, disgustingly sweetly. It reminds him of eating giant spoons of brown sugar.

He smiles politely, trying not to show his discomfort. "I'll just wait in her room for her..!" He hurries to Y/N's room, shutting the door once he's in. That woman gave him the creeps.

He looks around the small room, holy shit, no wonder you're always so pissy! He'd be pissy too if his room was just a bit bigger than a school storage closet!

The man knows he shouldn't snoop, he's done enough damage. But, maybe, if the guilt doesn't settle he can use information gathered here to help!

Dick makes his way to the chest and looks around, picking up an engineering bit, he isn't too into the whole mechanical side of things so there was no name he could pin it to.

Placing it back he moves to sit on the bed and wait. As he sits on the bed his eyes are drawn to a floorboard that seems to stand out from the rest. He kneels on the floor and digs his nails into the floorboard.

He starts to lift it up when..

RINGGGG

RINGGGG

RINGGGG

His phone goes off, he scrambles to answer the call, not checking who the caller was.

"Dick? Dick, okay, you're the only one that has answered!"

It was Duke, he sounds frantic. What happened..?

"Duke? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"No, no, something bad's happened! Steph, Cass and I were at a cafe and Y/N and her friends were there as well but some waitress had messed up the orders and Y/N had an allergic reaction - or something like that!" Duke rambles, his words slurring together in a rush.

Dick's eyes widen and he feels the air leave his lungs, forgetting about the floorboard and quickly leaving the room. He'll put the new phone on your bed for when you return.

He brushes past M/N and leaves the apartment. Holy shit your luck was bad, he couldn't help but think.

"Okay, stay calm, are you guys at Gotham City Private Hospital or Gotham City Public Hospital?"

"Private."

"I'll be there in half an hour, it'll be okay."

With that he hangs up and runs out of the apartment complex.

Like hell was he about to let anything bad happen to you before he could make things right!

Taglist:

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs @cens0r3d

[girliism]

math professor!art donaldson x reader

art donaldson who has been teaching for years and prided himself on staying professional even with all the many pretty girls that took his class. never once did he cross line between teacher and student.

but then one year you took his class, you who was sweet and a little naive. he was drawn to you like people are drawn to stray kittens they see on the street, a desperate urge to help them. so when you came to him with such a defeated look on your face asking for his help he couldn’t say no.

another F. was written in the corner of you math exam from last week. you wanted to cry, all the studying you did essentially being useless. you waited until the end of class until everyone had walked out so it was just you and art in the room.

“um, mr.dondalson. can i talk with you?” art looked up at you through his glasses, you stood in front of his desk your hands fiddling with the failed exam paper. “of course.” he removed his glasses placing them on his desk. art knew what if was you wanted to talk about and he’s a little surprised it took you this long to ask for help. “i don’t think i’m understanding much of the coursework and i need your help.” you pouted, your voice was small and you were a little embarrassed. art got up from his chair walking to stand in front of you. “what else am i here for than to help.” he smiled at you.

an hour. one hour has passed and you had only made it to the third question. “i-i don’t know.” you dropped the pencil in your hand and placed your head on the table. art was asking you what the answer to the question was but your mind was spent. art sighed, it was only the beginning of the semester he hadn’t even brought out the hard stuff yet.

“we just went over this.” he said. you lifted your head up off the table. “i forgot it.” you whined. art looked down at you, you had that signature pout on your face and your wet eyes were making his pants tighter.

art walked back to sit behind his desk. you sat there your nose a little red he could see how drained you were from just doing those two questions. art motioned from you to come sit in his lap. it didn’t even cross your mind how unprofessional it was you just got up from your seat settling down on art’s lap, your back resting against his chest with your thighs on display from how your skirt rode up.

“i’m sorry, if i wasted your time mr.donaldson.” you huffed. “it’s just all so confusing.” art hummed, dragging his fingers up and down your inner thigh watching as they started to open. “too much for your brain to comprehend, wasn’t it?” he asked, the pads of his finger pressing down on your clothed clit. you nodded, soft breaths falling from your lips your legs now fully open resting on either side of art’s thighs. “why don’t we take a break and relax, ok.” his words echoed in your mind. “o-ok.” you melted back into him.

art pulled your soaked panties to the side. “so wet down here.” art slide his fingers from your opening to your tiny bundle of nerves rubbing slow circles. you let out a loud moan when art slipped two of his fingers in with ease. “o-oh my god.” your head dropped back on his shoulder, eyes squeezing close from the stretch. art groaned from the feeling of your warm gummy walls tightening around his fingers. “so fucking tight.” he mumbled, leaving kisses behind your ear and down your neck.

“feels so good mr.donaldson.” you slur. your hand gripping his wrist that was moving in and out of you. squelching noises and your loud whimpering moans filled the room. “oh fuck!” art curled his fingers upward pressing them against that soft spot causing you to let out a particularly loud noise. art’s eyes darted to the classroom door to see if anyone was walking by.

“gone so dumb on just my fingers can’t even keep quiet. what if someone walked in and saw us?” he scolded you but didn’t slow down his movements only speeding them up. you stuttered out a pathetic apology in between your whines. “all spread out for me like a slut.” he hissed in your ear. his words were only making you wetter, your arousal dripping past his fingers making a mess on his pants.

the closer you were to more you legs threatened to close, art had to hook his other arm up under your knee pulling your leg up to his chest. “s-so close, mr.donaldson. gonna cum.” you whimpered. your nails dug into art’s wrists. art let go of your leg, sneaking his hand up to your throat pulling your head back so he could slot his mouth against yours.

“let it go, baby.” art muttered right into your mouth.

art’s thumb flicked back and forth on your clit and his fingers punched in and out of you. your eyes crossed and you let out a choked moan as you came all over his fingers.

after many more sessions with art your grades had finally started to improve.

[rafeshit]

teacher!rafe x teacher!reader

warnings — MDNI none other than fluff, flirting, see through blouse, and leg touching.

summary — you are a teacher working at a college, when you are in the library you get assistance from a fellow staff member.

—

youre standing in the library, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of dusty books. You're searching for a specific title, one that you need for your next lesson plan. As you scan the shelves, your fingers trailing over the spines of the books, you finally spot it. It's just out of reach.

you stretch up onto your tiptoes, straining to grab it, just as your fingers brush against the cover you feel a presence behind you. you turn your head to see mr.cameron, the handsome teacher from the math department, standing inches from you. His chest is pressed tightly against your back as his arms reached above you. you can feel his heartbeat flutter against your back as he does this.

for a awfully long second, you're frozen, rafes body is warm against yours, his muscles firm and flexing as he grabs the book. You feel his breath on the back of your neck, sending a wave of shivers to shoot down your spine.

alas, he takes a step back and he hands you the book, his fingers brush against yours, you turn to face him, meeting his eyes. for a moment, you both just stare at eachother.

you have seen mr.cameron around the halls and in the break room frequently but have never came in contact with him, this closely at that. if you were honest with yourself you would admit that you have had a little crush on him.

he had seen you around too, purposely going to places where you were just to see you in the tight black skirt you always wore. he had noticed that the white button up youd wear religiously would unknowingly show the black bra you wore on fridays like clockwork. today was friday, so he was in luck to be so close to you that your shirt was practically see through at this angle.

"thank you," you say, breaking the silence.

rafe smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners showing his age. "No problem," he says with a nod.

you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be with him, to feel his arms around you, his lips on yours, his veiny hands traveling along your body. but you were too shy to ever make a move. youre a teacher, after all. You can't let yourself get distracted by a fellow staff member, so you attempted to keep things professional and keep your distance.

but as you take the book from rafe, your fingers touching, you can't help but to want more. It's like you're both in on a secret, a secret that only the two of you share — there was a mutual attraction that went unnoticed by the both of you, but in this moment you both were aware of that mutual feeling.

you manage to crack a joke to crush the awkwardness, "I was about to fall off my tiptoes if it weren’t for you,” you chuckle.

rafe nods, his smile pressing. "well good thing I’m your knight and shining armor," he says.

You laugh, feeling a little more at ease. "Well, in that case, I'm grateful for my clumsiness."

Rafe takes a step closer, "would you like to grab coffee with me at the brew across the street?" he asks, "I think we have some things to discuss."

You nod, "I'd love to.” your eyes instinctively look to the floor, trying to hide the blush that was creeping to your face.

Rafe smiles, catching it. "Great," he says, “I’ll see you after school?”

“okay.” you nod, quickly walking away. you tuck your hair behind your ears as you bite your lip making your way to your respective classroom. did he just ask you out? you think to yourself. you quickly shake your head trying not to get ahead of yourself and focus on the task at hand, which was teaching.

the day went by slowly as you anxiously wait, Finally, the clock struck 7, and you couldn't get out of the school fast enough. You grabbed your bag, shut off the lights, and headed to the Brew across the street.

As you walked in, you spotted Rafe waiting for you at a table, smoking a cigarette. "Hey," you said, taking a seat across from him.

"Hey yourself," he said, snuffing out his cigarette. "You looked beautiful today by the way."

You blushed, "Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself."

he smiles and adjusts himself in his seat, “but…” he says, which makes your heart beat a little faster, “your top is so see through that I can see your bra underneath if I’m close enough.” he makes yourself aware.

you quickly look down, covering your exposed breasts, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

“don’t worry though, I’m not complaining, I’m admiring actually…” he says, which makes you comfortable enough to remove your hands from your shirt, “but your students might find it distracting.” he acknowledges.

“right…” you say. the waiter comes over and takes you guys’s order, you settled for a black coffee as he settles for a typical frappuccino.

you continue talking, noticing his eyes going to your shirt frequently, it didn’t bother you, you found it cute how he couldn’t keep his eyes on yours for half of the conversation. you guys discussed your college days and what made you want to start teaching. It was nice to learn more about him other than the fact that he taught math, and was really good at it.

as you laughed and joked, you found yourself brushing your leg against Rafe's under the table. You meant it to be an accidental touch, but as soon as you made contact, you knew it was intentional.

Rafe's eyes locked onto yours, a look of delight written all over his face. He didn't say anything, but you could tell he was thrilled by the touch when his hand would lightly brush against your leg under the table.

You continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily. But now, there was a charge in the air, a very noticeable spark of attraction between you two that you both couldn't ignore.

As you wound down, Rafe looked at you,"You know, I really enjoyed this," he said. "Maybe we can make it a ritual. Grab coffee after every school day… with less leg rubbing and more hand holding hopefully, maybe both?”

You smiled, “I'd like that.”

as you parted ways, you couldnt help but bite your lip as you made your way home. You had a feeling that this was just the beginning of your relationship with mr.cameron.

[botanalche]

Even If I’m Not a Genius Like You

Synopsis. Shikamaru the laid-back genius and his not-so-smart-but-not-stupid girlfriend

Pairing. Shikamaru Nara x fem!reader

Content. SFW, fem!reader, modern high school au, academic frustration, emotional vulnerability, self-worth issues, soft comfort, subtle affection, blunt but caring!shikamaru

Word count. 493

you're walking side by side with shikamaru after school, your fingers barely brushing against his. the late afternoon sun is warm, but you feel cold the second your phone vibrates in your pocket.

you don’t want to check it. you already know.

but you do anyway.

[school app notification]

mathematics — 42/100

status: remedial required]

you stop walking. “no way… no freaking way…”

shikamaru doesn’t stop with you. he keeps walking a few more steps, then turns slightly, hands in his pockets, brows barely lifted.

“…again?”

you don’t answer. you just stand there, staring at your screen, lips trembling.

“i actually tried this time,” you mutter, your voice small. “i didn’t even copy anyone. i studied. i gave up naps. i even skipped watching every new episode on that damn drama on that week.”

shikamaru exhales through his nose. “and still failed.”

you look at him, eyes slightly watery. “what am i doing wrong? am i just… dumb?”

he walks back to you slowly. “no.”

“then why do i keep screwing up?”

he doesn’t answer right away. he just watches you, unreadable, quiet like always. you think he might brush it off, tell you it’s “not a big deal” like he usually does.

instead, he says, “i’ll tutor you.”

you blink. “what?”

“for the remedial. i’ll help you prep.”

“…seriously?”

he shrugs. “don’t want to date someone who keeps crying over easy thing like this.”

you swat his arm. “i’m not crying.”

“yet,” he replies flatly. then, without missing a beat, “but if i do this, you better pay attention. like, actually pay attention.”

you pout. “i do pay attention!”

he looks you dead in the eye. “you study for twenty minutes, then spend the next hour scrolling social media, drawing your ‘math cat’ characters, and pretending it’s part of the process.”

you look away, flustered. “it is part of the process…”

“it’s why you failed.”

you groan. “you’re so mean.”

“no,” he says coolly, starting to walk again. “i’m realistic. you want me to waste my energy teaching you when you’re half-listening? no thanks.”

you jog a bit to catch up, falling back into step beside him. “okay, okay. i’ll be serious this time. i’ll put my phone away. i’ll even print notes. like on actual paper.

“wild concept.”

you glance up at him. his face is still unreadable—bored, detached, like this is all just mildly inconvenient.

but when the silence stretches, he finally mutters, “i don’t want you to keep feeling like this.”

your heart jumps a little.

“feeling like what?”

“…like you’re not good enough.”

you blink. he doesn’t look at you when he says it. he just keeps walking, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket like none of this matters.

but it does.

you know it does.

because this is shikamaru.

and for someone who claims everything is a drag, he still offered to stay.

and teach.

and try.

even you’re not gonna end up as genius as him.

ᯓ 𐙚 thank you so much for all the support on my kakashi fanfic earlier, i really appreciate it! honestly, it makes me want to cry (in a good way).

© botanalche do not translate or repost, thank you

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

nerdy!vi SFW AND NSFW HEADCANNIDS PLEASE PLEAEE PLEAE PLEASE PLEASE PLEAE LEAEE SEE PKEADE

Warnings: SMUT, toy use, oral, not proof read

A/N: you literally read my thoughts, I love you for this anon

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧e

SFW

Nerdy!Vi, who first gave you tutoring sessions in college to earn a buck on the side, she couldn’t help but admire you while she tried her best to explain math to you. All while you weren’t at all focused on what she was writing down, you just liked hearing her voice.

Nerdy!Vi, who you met with her almost every week even though you already understood what she was teaching you. You soon realize that, who you thought to be an awkward nerd, actually knew her way around with words, so it only took her a few “tutoring” sessions until she had you on a date

Nerdy!Vi, who never plans boring dates, while your friends would just go out to eat or watch a movie, Vi took you Stargazing (With a telescope she got from Viktor after a week of convincing), to an arcade, or to sing karaoke even though she was terrible at it.

Nerdy!Vi, whose favorite activities is to have you on her lap while she teaches you how to play her favorite video games. You are only familiar with games like animal crossing, stardew valley, or minecraft she is set on introducing you to games like valorant, skyrim, or darksouls. Most evenings though end with her helping you (playing the game for you while you ranted over your day) or you convincing her to play the sims.

Nerdy!Vi, who doesn’t know that you downloaded 16 GB sims cc on her precious gaming PC.

Nerdy!Vi, who when you left her alone in your dorm punches your stuffed animals for no particular reason.

Nerdy!Vi, who is a scarily good boxer, every time she comes home, from practice, you can’t help but be obsessed with her biceps pump.

Nerdy!Vi, who even though she’s incredible smart, sometimes has the badest ideas known to men, especially in combination with Jacye.

Nerdy!Vi, who needs to be stopped from breaking a guys nose for cat calling you.

NSFW

Nerdy!Vi who, is the biggest perv when she's with you constantly touching your chest or ass in public to make sure everyone knows who you belong to.

Nerdy!Vi who, rewards you with orgasms when you learn with her. She holds your pretty little vibrator to your clit while she asks you your flesh cards. And when you got something wrong she pulls it away, making you cry under her touch

Nerdy!Vi who, would spend hours eating you out if she could. She's obsessed with your taste. She eats you out the morning before her exams as a good luck charm. (Her fogged up glasses stay on)

Nerdy!Vi who, makes you strap warm her while she is on a discord call with friends. Sometimes she puts her headset on you to watch you snuggle to keep up a conversation while she slowly moves her hips

[archiveof22048]

oceans and engines | michael kaiser sfw | fem!reader with she/her pronouns, swearing

he sees footprints on the sand, he smells the salty air of the sea, and he feels the coldness of your hand, who drags him along the bleakness of the beach. even as he closes his eyes, knowing that he trusts you with where you're leading him, he can still hear the huffing of his breath, trying to keep up with your pace, he can still feel the waves crashing around his bare feet, and he can still taste your expensive chapstick on his lips, as cold as they may be.

"open your eyes, mihya."

and so he does.

the sky is still as it was: desolate and devoid of blue, overcast, and sad. the sea is cold, vast, neverending.

immediately, he tenses up, and he thinks maybe he should have listened to you when he peeled off his jacket before you left his car in the parking lot (it's not even his own car, nor his own jacket, but he hasn't the heart to tell you). he's jealous of you, with your hands tucked in the pockets of your jacket, all bundled up in your layers.

then, you scream.

"the fuck was that?" he asks, his voice raised.

"i'm letting go," you say, just a bit louder than his question. you've got this smile on his face that begs for him to kiss you again.

he scoffs. "of what? you don't even have anything to let go of."

"just shout, mihya!"

and so he does.

"FUCK!!!!!!!!"

you laugh. "yes, that's it! just scream!!!"

"goddamnit!" he screams into the sea. "fuck you, dad! fuck my life! agh!" he kicks the sand, but the sand is wet and hard to kick up, so he gets even more frustrated, and he kicks harder. it splatters on the ground like blood.

again, you giggle. "look at you, soccer player. kicking up anything you see."

he rolls his eyes, but he's half-smiling. "you're lucky i left the soccer ball in the car or else i would have kicked that shit in your face."

"but then i would have a broken nose, and i wouldn't be pretty anymore," you quip, pouting.

he marches over to you, as shouting into the sea had migrated him away from where you are standing. he cups your cheeks gently. "whatever. as long as your lip's not busted, or else it'd be pretty hard to kiss you, huh?"

"jeez mihya, you're so clingy today," you tease as he leans into you, burrowing his face into your neck. he claims it's warm, but you can feel the cold touch of his lips right on the base of your neck. all you can do is wrap your arms around him, and you keep your giddiness to yourself by planting your feet in the sand (if you bounce your knees, he'll remind you of how excited you were when he returned your feelings for him).

"teach me something," he mumbles, dodging your tease.

you rub your hand over his back. "what would you like to learn today?"

"i dunno, just anything."

"but that's what you always say!"

"math, then."

you scoff. "i can only teach you so much math! i'm still learning geometry!"

he laughs. "isn't that just triangles and stuff?"

you pull away from his grasp, still holding onto his hand. your fingers are interlaced. "yeah, well... it's hard to explain."

eventually, you decide to review the vocabulary list that you learned in school the past week. you sit down on the sand, taking off your leather bag and pulling out your school notebook, and he sits down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

after reciting your fifty words for the week, you close your notebook, and you sling the bag over your shoulder. "well, that's vocabulary for you," you conclude.

"interesting," he says. "now i know what the word 'philosophy' means."

the both of you stand up and dust off the sand from your legs and behinds. he takes it as an opportunity to rub your behind, borderline caressing your ass, and you turn around and smack his hand away.

"mihya!"

"must've been the wind," he jests, giving you his signature half-smirk.

you look at your wristwatch. "ah, mihya. it's five after."

he rolls his eyes. "whatever. he's not going to get back 'til way later, anyways. gonna go gamble whatever money we have left."

you tuck your hands into your pockets, smiling sheepishly up at him. "well, let's at least start walking back to your car in case he does come back earlier than you expect."

...

he puckers his lips.

"give me a kiss before you leave."

rou've got one foot out of the car, ready to be dropped off in front of your house, while he holds onto your left wrist, stopping you from leaving. he looks like he really owns the car he stole: he grips the steering wheel like he's driven the car a million times, and his slouched posture is to show he's not afraid of wondering whether you're going to kiss him or not.

you close your eyes and smile while you lean in.

"i love you, mihya."

"i love you, too."

then, you leave the car and that is the last time michael kaiser sees you before he becomes famous.

...

"she's beautiful, kaiser."

kaiser looks up from his phone.

it's alexis ness, his teammate, who takes a seat next to him on the bench of bastard munchen's locker room. he's being awfully nosy right now, peering over next to kaiser, taking a look at what's on his phone screen.

"my stupid phone from five years ago has the shittiest quality," kaiser dejectedly states. "you can't even see her eyes clearly."

"but you have a new phone just last year," ness points out.

kaiser scoffs, and he starts rubbing his phone screen with the bottom of his shirt, pretending like it'll do something to clear up the photo of you. "yeah, and transferring all these pictures of her fucked up the quality."

ness hums in understanding (he doesn't get it). "well," he begins to pry, "who is she?"

kaiser's smirk that appears on the field, ness notices, is cold and haughty. it is angering, irritating, and would make any opponent of his shudder and scream. it identifies the emperor of the field, and it is an expression that rules over all.

yet, this smile of kaiser's is unlike anything ness has ever seen during his years of knowing him. kaiser's piercing blue eyes immediately soften, and only the corners of his mouth are lifted up in a smile- it's gentle, bittersweet, and humble. ness feels like he's intruding into the depths of kaiser's heart.

"she's my girlfriend."

ness stands up in shock, and he can't help but clutch the back of his head to accentuate his surprise. "you never told me you had a girlfriend, kaiser!"

kaiser can't help but laugh. "you never asked!"

"well, what does she do?" ness asks curiously.

kaiser hums in thought. "hmm. well, when she was in tenth grade she said she wanted to become a writer. dunno if that's changed, though."

it takes a second for ness to process his answer. "you... don't know what she's doing?"

"well, she's probably studying in university right now. can't say for sure what she's learning."

again, ness is confused. he furrows his brows. "are you saying you haven't talked to her since five years ago? since you joined bastard munchen?"

kaiser looks down in what could be described as shame. ness isn't really sure what he'd call it, but it is definitely not pride. it's such a foreign look on kaiser's face, no expression like ness has ever known kaiser to make.

it becomes increasingly difficult for kaiser to defend himself. so, he resorts to a different tactic: he begins to show ness different photos of you. "oh," kaiser says in fake surprise, "look at this picture of her."

it was a struggle to plan dates between the two of you, but on the rare occasion that you and he could hang around your neighborhood, you'd take him to your favorite ice cream parlor. during this particular date, you and kaiser challenged each other to see who could finish their ice cream cone the fastest, but it ended up as a default win for kaiser as you had accidentally knocked over your ice cream and it landed straight onto the ground.

ness is immediately drawn to the exaggerated faux frown on your face, coupled with happy eyes. he looks over your expensive outfit, and then down at where you're pointing in the image: the melting ice cream on the ground.

he laughs. it's a short "haha," and he isn't sure whether it's out of pity, or if he's trying to play it cool for the delusional kaiser, or if it is genuinely a funny picture. but, he looks past the phone in front of him and looks at kaiser, who has this expression that borderlines ignorance and pure joy.

"funny, right? she's so clumsy, i swear," kaiser says, swiping through more photos on his phone. ness cannot help but notice the softness in kaiser's eyes; how unfamiliar it is to see this boy so vulnerable. "take a look at this one."

after screaming at the beach, kaiser let you take control of the music in the car on the way back to your house. thus, you were granted access to his phone- shoddy, yet reliable. it was probably not the best for taking quality pictures, but pictures were memories, nonetheless.

it was a selfie of the two of you, with you sticking your tongue out and holding a peace sign, and kaiser with his eyes laser-focused on the road. he's got his left hand on the steering wheel and his right on your thigh. as casual as the photo was, ness already knew the intimacy of your relationship.

as kaiser pulls back his phone, ness watches kaiser's expression once more. he looks at his phone like he's in love. kaiser's peculiar smile, unfamiliar to his face, was born from the feelings he held for this girl that he hasn't talked to since he was whisked away in the world of soccer.

"i wonder if she watches my games," kaiser wonders out loud. "i mean, i must be that famous to be appearing nationwide, right?"

ness is taken aback by the sudden change of tone. "u-uh, yeah, for sure, kaiser."

kaiser is pleased with ness's answer. then, he goes back to his phone, swiping through more photos, and consequently chuckles. "oh my god, i forgot i took this video. look at this, ness."

the quality is so bad, but at least he can hear your voice.

...

you're holding onto his soccer ball.

your back is turned to him, and you're dragging him along by holding onto his wrist. his other hand is holding his phone, recording you.

"we're almost there, mihya," you call out from over your shoulder.

his hand holding the phone swats away tree branches, and occasionally dried up leaves crinkle beneath his feet.

"jeez, are you gonna kidnap me or something?" he asks from behind the camera.

then, it suddenly comes into view.

it's an open field. it's just pure grass for miles and miles, and for some reason, it's all trimmed.

the camera pans onto you, and it's slightly shaky. you hold up your hands in defense, and you exclaim, "i didn't cut any of this grass, by the way! i just found it like this, and i wanted to show you. so you can play soccer to your heart's content..."

you drop the soccer ball and begin kicking it around. you've picked up some tricks from him.

"there's no goal post though, i hope you don't mind..."

then, the phone drops.

he calls out your name. "i love you."

"i love you too, mihya."

"i love you more!"

"you better make it big, okay? i didn't show you this field for nothing."

"well, you better watch me, alright?"

"i'll always be watching!"

"shit, wait, where's my phone?"

[makkir0ll]

Congratulations on the milestone!!! 🎉🎊

Can I request number 22 for Mattsun, please? I can just imagine having him as my best friend in high school that I have a huge ass (not so) secret crush on and he’d be such a little shit about itttt ((and the feeling’s always been mutual but i was too dense to notiiiiccceeedjfjdjsk))

i loved this request!! also sorry for taking so long school is kicking my ass but once summer is here i'll be able to focus on the requests so they're coming guys i promise!

200 milestone event!

matsukawa + 22 ("does it make you nervous when i stare?" / "yes! so stop staring!" / "oh absolutely not")

matsukawa's big crush on you had been obvious to everyone.

well everyone but you.

it was obvious in the way he would always walk you to your class which led to him almost being late every morning. waiting for you outside of your club room no matter how long it took so he could walk you home. he would give you his lunch if you forgot it at home one day. tying his scarf around you during the winter to keep you warm while he pretended not to shiver.

and it was very obvious that the feelings were reciprocated, in the way your cheeks would turn a bright shade of red whenever his hand would brush against your knee and when you could feel his minty breath fan across your face when he would whipser a dumb joke to you in class. everyone knew, even him. and he took that to his advantage.

right now the two of you lay sprawled out on his bedroom floor. even though the door is closed you can hear the ruckus on his little siblings coming from the living room. the two of you had been taking a break from studying for your next test for about five minutes, scrolling on your phones in silence. it was comforting.

"okay," you start, moving yourself off the floor to look back at the papers that are all over the floor "we need to finish studying mattsun." you poke at his leg, to which he groans.

"i've accepted my fate, i'm going to fail this test." he sits back up, running a hand through his disheveled hair and you try really hard to not stare at him, but it was difficult when he looked that good. his school tie hanging loose around his neck, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up with exposed the veins from his hands that led up to his forearms.

shaking your head and going back to focus on the array of math problems in front of you, you feel him lean towards you, a little too close to be considered friendly and you can smell that familiar scent of mint as he asks in a soft voice, “do you understand this problem?” his pen points to the problem he was having trouble with. with cheeks flushed a hue of pink, you nod your head, trying to contain yourself.

you begin to explain the problem and how to solve it, trying hard to stay focused even tho his hand was drawing patterns on your knee and you could feel his brown eyes staring at you instead of the problem that you’re working hard to teach it to him. even though he’s accepted his fate, you weren’t going to let him.

“…so the inverse of the sin is one over sin and…”you begin to trail off, losing concentration due to the close proximity between the two of you.

“and?” he teases, moving closer. you look up to him and look into his brown eyes and your cheeks go from pink to red. you try and maintain eye contact with him and he notices how your pupils dilate the longer you keep looking into his eyes. you notice that slowly, as the seconds pass he’s moving closer to you. the nerves in your system taking over you look away, a hand coming to cover your embarrassed face.

“can you not do that?” you ask, face still hidden in your hands.

“do what?” he pretends to act confused. he knows what he’s doing.

“stare at me.” you admit shyly.

“oh?” he leans in closer, you can feel his minty breath in your ear when he whispers, “does it make you nervous when i stare?” he hand comes to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. you immediately notice the beauty mark that’s above his cupids bow.

“yes. yes it does, so stop staring” you whisper

“oh absolutely not” he teases. he takes this opportunity and leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. he pulls away and is met with your stunned expression. he’s trying hard to not smile but it’s hard when you look so cute to him. he feels you tug at his loosened tie, pulling him into you and you lock your lips with him again. holding him there with his school tie as everything around the two of you fades away.

since he had already accepted his fate of failing this test, maybe he could spend some time studying you.

[deezee112]

The ending 3 : Fractured Reflections

Masterlist | Ending 2 | Ending 4

Yandere!Platonic!Deuce Spade x GN!kid!Reader

A/N : Hey, just wanted to say—whatever the ending is in the first part, that’s how it ends, whether it’s good or bad. Alright, time to get back to work.

Warning : emotional instability , toxic behavior , and accidental violence leading to severe injury.

Tags :

@sherryclover @creativecupcake @hsjdhehsjssj @neufora

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

" My name is Deuce. " he said, his voice awkward but warm, a hint of nervousness lacing his words.

You stare at him, still hidden beneath the blanket, your small hands clutching the fabric. He looks no different from a tall man with dark blue hair and an air of unease. His eyes are gentle almost kind but there’s something feral beneath them. A quiet storm struggling to stay restrained.

“ D-Deuce…? ” you whispered, and the name felt strange but comforting on your tongue.

“ Yeah! That’s me! ” He smiled, a little too wide, trying to seem friendly but ending up looking even more nervous. “ Uh…want me to help you with anything? I’m…I’m actually pretty good at stuff! ”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded slowly.

And so it began. Deuce was like a clumsy but well-meaning big brother. He’d help you with your homework at least, he tried to. Most of the time, you ended up staring at the same math problem together, neither of you understanding it.

“ I-I think it’s, uh…seven? ” he’d say, scratching his head.

“ It’s multiplication, Deuce. Seven times four… ”

“ Oh, right! I knew that! It’s, um…twenty…twenty-eight? ” he’d finally get it, and you’d laugh, a small, shy giggle that always made his worried face light up.

He wasn’t perfect far from it. Sometimes he’d drop things, accidentally tearing your favorite book while trying to put it away. He’d promise to teach you how to draw, only to end up with messy scribbles that even he laughed at.

But he tried.

And whenever he messed up, he tried to make it right. When he broke your favorite glass in a fit of frustration, you stared, wide-eyed, as the pieces scattered across the floor.

“ Huh…? ” you mumbled, stunned.

Deuce’s face turned pale. “ I-I didn’t mean to! It just— I was just— ” His voice cracked, and he immediately grabbed a broom, his hands shaking as he swept up the broken glass. “ Don’t worry! I’ll—I’ll get you a new one! I promise! ”

The next day, he brought you a new glass. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t have the little stars etched on it like your old one. But he handed it to you, his eyes wide and pleading. “ I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to… ”

You wanted to be angry, but you saw how his hands trembled, how his gaze never left your face, searching for even the smallest sign of forgiveness.

And you smiled. “ It’s okay, Deuce. ”

His shoulders relaxed, and he grinned. “ Thanks, y/n! I promise, I won’t mess up again! ”

But he always did.

Deuce was good he really was. But only in his mind.

Sometimes he got mad. Mad at small things. Mad at you when you forgot something. Mad at himself when he couldn’t help you. His voice would rise, his fists clenching, his eyes burning with frustration.

But he always tried to apologize. He’d always come back, his head bowed, his voice trembling.

“ I didn’t mean it, y/n…I’m sorry… ”

And you always forgave him. Because that’s what friends did, right?

But then one rainy evening, everything changed.

The sky was dark, raindrops tapping against the windows like a thousand tiny fingers. You were in the living room, trying to finish your homework. The numbers swam before your eyes, a dull ache pounding in your head.

“ I don’t get it… ” you whispered, your pencil tapping nervously on the paper.

Deuce leaned over your shoulder, his brows furrowed. “ It’s…just addition, right? You just… you know, add them together! ”

“ But I keep messing up… ”

“ It’s not that hard! ” His voice was sharper than usual. “ I mean, come on, y/n! Even I can do this! ”

Your shoulders tensed. “ I’m trying, but I don’t understand! ”

“ Then try harder! ” he snapped, slamming his hand on the table.

The sound echoed in the room, louder than the rain outside.

Your chest tightened. “ Deuce, please… ”

“ Please, please, please! ” he mocked, his voice rising. “ You always say that! ‘Deuce, help me! Deuce, I can’t!’ Well, maybe I can’t help you either! Maybe I’m just— ”

“ Stop it! ” you shouted, tears welling in your eyes.

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t see the fear in your eyes. He didn’t hear the quiver in your voice. He just saw red.

“ Fine! ” he yelled, grabbing the workbook and hurling it across the room. “ Fine! Maybe you’re just too dumb to— ”

His words froze in his throat.

You were crying. Quiet, silent tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands trembling.

“ I hate this…I hate this… ” you whispered, backing away from him. “ Why are you always like this…? ”

His expression twisted—shock, regret, but also something darker. “ I-I didn’t mean—y/n, I— ”

But you were already running. Running to your room, slamming the door shut. Curling up on your bed, pulling the blanket over your head, trying to drown out the thunder of the rain and the sound of your own sobs.

Outside, you heard his footsteps, his panicked knocking.

“ y/n! Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Please, let me in! ” His voice cracked, breaking. “ y/n… please… ”

But you didn’t answer.

The rain didn’t stop for days. Each drop was a steady, cold reminder of his voice, his anger.

You avoided him. Whenever he came into the room, you looked away. When he tried to speak, you stayed silent.

It was only a few days later that he finally broke.

“ y/n, please…I can’t take it…Please talk to me.. ” he whispered, kneeling by your bed. His eyes were red, dark shadows beneath them. “ Please… ”

And you looked at him, saw the guilt etched on his face, the way his hands shook. You didn’t feel angry anymore. Just…tired.

“ It’s okay, Deuce.. ” you whispered.

He smiled, but there was a hollowness in it. “ R-Really? You mean it? ”

You nodded.

But something was different. His smiles didn’t seem as bright. His jokes fell flat. Even when he messed up, you just stared, quiet, like you were waiting for something to break.

And then it did.

You were in the living room, trying to reach a book on the top shelf. The room was dim, the rainclouds outside casting gray shadows across the walls. Deuce was by the window, struggling with the old lamp that had been flickering for days.

“ Stupid thing…why won’t it just work? ” he muttered, jiggling the cord, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“ Deuce, maybe just leave it. We can get a new one.. ” you suggested, your voice soft, trying not to sound afraid.

“ No! I can fix it! I can do this! ” he snapped, tugging at the cord again.

“ Deuce, please, you’re going to— ”

“ I know what I’m doing! ”

The next second happened in a blur.

The cord snapped. The lamp, heavy and solid, slipped from his grip, crashing down. Instinctively, you stepped forward just as it swung, the base striking you hard across the side of your head.

A sharp, blinding pain exploded through your skull. Your vision went white, then dark. Your knees buckled, and the world spun.

“ y/n! ” Deuce’s voice was a distant echo, warped and panicked. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “ No, no, no—this can’t—y/n! Open your eyes! Please! ”

The pain was sharp, but then…a numb, cold feeling settled over you. Your body felt heavy, your thoughts sluggish. You wanted to say something, to tell him it hurt, to tell him you were scared…

But nothing came out.

“ y/n…y/n, please… ” His voice was cracking, his tears dripping onto your cheek. “ It’s not that bad, right? It’s not that bad…please…I can fix it…I’ll fix you, too…just—just wake up! ”

But you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could only hear his desperate, trembling words, fading into a distant murmur.

Darkness crept in, a heavy, silent curtain, muffling everything.

And then…nothing.

Deuce sits beside your bed, his hands clutching a bloodstained towel.

“ Please…wake up…I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… ”

But you didn’t move.

No matter how many times he apologized, you didn’t answer.

No matter how much he begged, you never opened your eyes.

“ I killed you…again… ” he whispered, his voice hollow, his tears endless.

And the rain outside never stopped.

[twshipoftheday]

Teen Wolf Ship of the Day, January 6th

Malia Hale x Kira Yukimura

Malia watches her girlfriend play lacrosse and was finally happy to have been pulled out of the woods and introduced to Kira Yukimura.

Headcanons under the cut

Malia gets bored easily but can stay engaged with lacrosse for Kira. She's definitely the kind of enthusiastic girlfriend who yells at the referees

Kira does Tai chi and teaches Malia, it becomes their morning ritual

They go on camping dates and Malia curls up in coyote form next to Kira to keep her warm at night

Kira takes Malia to New York and shows her around. Malia loves the gas station Stewarts

Malia and Kira study together and Kira helps Malia with flash cards and math

Malia has to climb in Kira's window sometimes to avoid talking to Noshiko

Kira loves wearing Malia's clothing and Malia loves how Kira always smells like her

[majinbangus]

Professor!johnny gives you a vibe to wear in his lecture. Everytime you get an answer right or wrong he'll change the level on it. Just to tease you even more he'll get you to stand at the front to answer a question on the board. Staying back at the end of the class so he can finish you off with his-

i like it when he teaches math :) also this isn't professor!soap, but here's a university au thought i had awhile back. it's not nsfw, but it's something a little cuter

》 18+

Professor MacTavish is a strict instructor who only expects the best from his students. You especially since you get extra one-on-one tutoring time with him, and you’ve improved so much since the sessions started. He’s proud of how far you’ve come, but he always makes sure to keep you on your toes with the extra challenges he sets for you, such as the vibrator.

So prior to the beginning of class, he’ll warm you up. Lightly edge you with the vibrator before slipping it inside at a low setting, sending you off with a light slap to your ass. Oh, and he expects participation in his class, so you best be raising your hand and volunteering to solve each question he asks. If you don’t, he’ll increase the vibrator as punishment and purposely call upon you to answer. 

Hope you get it correct, too, because if you don’t, later on in his office, he’ll want to do a review of your mistakes, doing problems over and over again until you get them right. You won’t get to come in the end, and if you do, it’s only a ruined orgasm. That’s only if you mess up, though, so don’t worry too much.

If you make sure to participate and get the answers right? You can look forward to not having to think for once and being rewarded with his cock, getting the same amount of orgasms as the number of questions you answered and solved. He may be strict, but Professor MacTavish always acknowledges when his students do well. 

And don’t get jealous, it’s only you he gives special attention to. You are his favorite, after all.

[judasgot-it]

Dr Ratio x Reader

Dr Ratio tries to teach y/n basic algebra (and cries doing so, they are just that stupid)

"You do what's in the parenthesis first,"

This was too hard.

With great regret, you had asked Dr. Ratio to help you with understanding algebra. You didn't even really care for the subject that much, but apparently you had to understand it in order to learn the cooler math. Which sucked - why couldn't you just do the interesting stuff first? This doesn't really seem related to anything, honestly.

But according to him, this was a basic foundation of mathematics.

Which sucked. It was so stupid. Why were there letters in this? You were pretty sure math is about numbers.

How does x even equal a number? You wouldn't know, because you were stuck on this problem for over twenty minutes now.

This was question 3 on the quiz he gave you. A simple one. He just wanted to go over the basics he had lectured you about. Which left you stuck in the same seat you had watched him lecture from, your ass already sore from sitting for so long. Unfortunately, freedom was far away as you got completely lost on how to solve any of these problems.

5(x+1)=2(x-5)-6

You tried to subtract the 1 out of the parenthesis, to bring it to the other side. This was how it's done, right?

Looking up, you saw his mask covering his face. So you didn't know if you were doing what you should be. So you just kept going.

Somehow you got 1/5.

That probably wasn't the right answer. But whatever.

Dr. Ratio was making weird noises at this point. He loomed over you, his abs almost hitting the top of your head as he watched - once in a while his thigh would hit the back of your chair, reminding you of whatever thought process he had. However he saw what you were doing from underneath that mask, you just knew he was judging you.

Carefully, you focused on the next problem.

The seething professor behind you hadn't allowed you to use a calculator - according to him, it was far too easy. Something one can easily do in their head.

It felt a little more embarassing to have to do the subtraction on the side. You don't remember 54-12 off of the top of your head, and you weren't a math god. So you had to do this each time. The side of your paper was riddled with lines that broke down or added numbers.

"That's not right."

He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning down even further as he took his other hand and scrutinized the paper in front of him. The mask on his face brushed against your head, and it was unexpected - it didn't feel cold nor warm, simply just room temperature. It wasn't as hard as stone either.

"I thought the point of a quiz was for me to figure it out, not the teacher."

There was no point in arguing with him though. You were tired and your hand hurt.

"You can't even figure it out. At this point, this is a form of torture," The way he said that made it sound as if he was in more pain than you.

"Did you listen to anything that I had said?"

"Yeah." No the fuck you did not.

"None of your answers should be fractions. You also can't even follow the order of operations."

"I did the parenthesis like you said-"

"You just keep doing addition and subtraction. Not even well, since you make very simple mistakes."

You looked to where he was pointing; 39+42=71. That looked pretty correct to you.

"That's right though?"

"No. No, it's not. You missed an entire ten. It's 81," he sighed as he said this as if talking to a stupid child, curt but not able to truly express how he felt. Maybe he was justified in that response.

"Oh." You didn't know how he got that answer, but he was certainly right. Oops.

"You can't do algebra since you can't even do the basics. Do you even know how to multiply?"

"Yeah, I can-"

"Without a calculator. With double digits,"

He had taken off his mask, placing it to the side as he really started to scrutinize you; the hair on his forehead stuck to his skin slightly, having one bang that stubbornly clung to his nose and batting close to his eyelashes. The man even took a seat next to you, his eyes looking at yours and then back to the paper. As if he was in disbelief.

You could only shake your head. This was hard, and you could feel the frustration build up in your eyes as he only looked and scrutinized your paper further.

"You need to learn the basics again."

"This is the basics, right?"

"No. You can't even multiply or divide. That is elementary."

In shame, you put down your pencil and tried to hide your face behind your hands. You were never going to be able to do the cool math, were you? Like how to calculate the burger number. That's the cool math.

You heard the pencil be picked up by another hand, one that is a little too close to you - Dr. Ratio's shoulder brushed against yours, his bare and slutty arm taking up more than enough of your personal space.

"Let's go over this next problem. I'll explain it as you go along."

He was already giving you tips while you did the quiz, but that's fine. You have already dug yourself into a pit of shame and despair as you failed to do, apparently, basic math. So what would be one more embarrassing failure?

Taking the pen from his rather warm hand, you went back too it.

"So, how would you start this problem?"

At this point, his finger was just pointing at hieroglyphs. The letters with the numbers made it rather hard to comprehend what you were looking at.

"The parenthesis."

"There is no parenthesis in this," he frowned at you, continuing his streak of major disappointment. "Order of operations, PEMDAS, so what is your next step?"

"...multiply?"

"0 points. You do the exponents."

"So, the x with the little two."

You were sure that he blanked out on that one. His face had fallen into a strange expression, as if he had seen shadows move in his peripheral vision, as if he were followed by shadow people; a sort of pre-horror look.

"You do know what x squared means, correct?"

"How does x become a square? I still don't get that."

His face morphed into something else. Frustration, shock, agony. It could mean a lot of things, but his reaction was so strong you could taste it.

"You don't know what exponents are, do you?"

"...no."

You would think he would have understood this given how you were apparently bad at everything else. But it looked like you had slapped him and kicked his dog, from the look he gave you.

"By aeons what do you know!?"

"...1+1?"

He slammed his hands against the table. Your pencil rolled away from you from the shockwave, hitting the floor with a clatter as Ratio made loud facial expressions from underneath his hands. It looked as if he were a Shakespearian character who had been stabbed in the heart.

His breaths were heavy, his chest heaving with every attempt. One of his amber eyes peaked at you from underneath his slender fingers, staring at you as if you were a stubborn puzzle that did not wish to be solved.

There was something he wanted to say, but instead there was only a small noise that came from his throat. The stare he gave you could shatter glass.

"Are you okay, professor?"

He shook his head. The man turned to look at nothing, his face cradled in the palm of his hand.

"I have never met anyone like you."

That wasn't a compliment. But you were going to take it as one. That's the best you could do in this situation, honestly.

The man put his head down onto the table, one of his hands threading through his hair. You reached your hand out to his shoulder, patting him lightly in order to comfort.

You didn't see it, but there were tears pooling around his eyes, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down.

Authors note: I don't know what this is, I'm just trying to grasp ratios character. If it's OOC then that's cause i haven't even gotten to penachony yet.

Also the burger number is real it's called whopper and was literally named after the burger King sandwich. The more you know.

[two-entire-bits]

mar-bit headcanons because I have been consumed <3

Marcia steals his leather jacket all the time. He thinks it's the cutest thing ever

once Two-Bit got jumped and knocked out and Marcia was the first one to find him and he made one of those stupid "holy shit I musta died and gone to heaven cuz there's an angel in front of me" jokes when he woke up and saw her

Marcia's really good at school and especially loves science, but has a hard time understanding new math concepts (although once she gets them down she's off and running) and Two-Bit is surprisingly good at math for some reason (he doesn't try in school but he does put in 0.000001 mL of effort so he can pass and move on to the next level. but only barely) so he explains the concepts to her without making her feel stupid

Marcia knows Two likes blondes and once joked about bleaching her hair and he was horrified at the concept.

Marcia's really good at chess?? Like really good. Two-Bit has no clue how to play and he is too confused by how it works to start learning now.

Marcia LOVES to be carried around by Two ALL THE TIME. She wants to make some dinner? Two-Bit is bridal-style carrying her down the stairs from her room to the kitchen. She wants to get snacks at the movies? Piggy-back ride to the concession stand.

the latter style also gives her an excuse to kiss his head and mess up & play with his hair

She carries an old makeup compact with his favorite hair grease and a comb with her at all times in case of an "emergency" (when she messes up his hair)

He also carries around some of her makeup in his jacket in case she ever forgets it

Marcia WILL kiss his face all over and she WILL get lipstick stains everywhere and he will NOT remove it. absolutely refuses to.

He also will reapply her lipstick for her after such cases

They love doing as much as possible for each other that way, they love just taking care of each other and holding each other and being in love and also being silly about it

THEY'RE THE TYPE OF COUPLE TO DO THAT TWO-STRAWS-ONE-MILKSHAKE THING

He'll also do her nails (traits achieved by having a little sister) and he loves it because he gets to focus on something and they just take turns rambling

He steals stuff for her all the time (she finds it endearing) but the two times he didn't was when he got her a gift for her first birthday after they started dating (she then reassured him he didn't have to spend money on her just because it's a special occasion) and when he got her an engagement ring

He proposed to her at the drive-in (or where it used to be if it closed down)

Marcia and Two-Bit's sister (Tammy (short for Tamara (Two-Bit calls her Tamster))) get along slightly too well for Two's liking. they plot against him

It took Tammy a while to warm up to her but once she did they were an unstoppable force

Marcia will take her out to the mall to try stuff on and have a "girls day" every couple of months but Tammy refuses to let Marcia buy her anything so Marcia will report back to Two and he'll go out and steal things Tammy liked

I don't know if she'd go BUT if she did Marcia would help Tammy get ready for her school formal/homecoming/prom and teach her how to do makeup and Two-Bit literally cannot find the words to thank her enough because Tammy looks so happy and he never could've done that, not because he didn't want to, because he didn't know how, it's the 60's and he's a guy, she's a girl, yeah he's her brother but he has no clue how to make her comfortable in her femininity and such, and it just makes him love Marcia even more

Two-Bit actually learned how to cook a few meals because he felt like he had to give back to Marcia for loving him

He also picks up after himself when he's at her house even though he never does at home because he feels bad

Two-Bit has a big expectation of himself that he has to be happy and active and always moving and keeping up everybody else's spirits all the time that when Marcia does something nice for him or just holds him he's caught so off guard. he needs to be the little spoon sometimes okay.

Like he's so used to taking up space but with her he can just feel small and exist

He loves the gang and is so much more himself around them but he still has a Role and Marcia is on a whole other level of Two-Bit-esque weird that he can like, completely unmask with her once they've been together long enough

Early on he'd do something weird around her without thinking and go like "well, shit." because when he gets to be Too Much Himself it's driven people away in the past but then she finds it funny or endearing or she just doesn't react at all and he falls even more in love with her

It took him a long time to really learn that he didn't owe Marcia anything in exchange for her love

Marcia just wants to hold him sometimes also. In my head her parents are often absent and she doesn't have any siblings, so she'll just touch him or hold onto him a lot to reassure herself he's there and he's not leaving

Marcia will come over to Two-Bit's house sometimes and help make dinner or clean with his mom (they also get along well) or just spend time with all of them and it took them all awhile to not think of it as charity but Marcia just liked feeling like she actually had a family

They have THE most extrapolatory nicknames for each other. It starts off tame but it evolves to the point where their names and the nicknames have barely anything in common

on my dancer Two-Bit bullshit forever Marcia's house has a piano and she'll play music for him to dance to

this man has not missed one of Marcia's barrel races ever. he's there way earlier than he needs to be he stays until she leaves he is the loudest person on the bleachers.

Marcia started watching Mickey Mouse so Two-Bit would have someone to talk to about it

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 6

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say

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Chapter summary: Past. Remy teaches you to drive Present. Separated, you and Logan speak to others about each other.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

3.0 words

Before

“Remy!!!” You giggle, the car driving slow as a snail, with you behind the wheel.

“You are doing great, pistache, but I think you can speed up a little more now.”

You nod, smiling as you tap the gas just a bit. The car jolts forward, making Remy gasp and grab at his chest.

“Shoot!”

Remy laughs. “C’est bon, just keep going.”

He was teaching you to drive. Your parents and husband did not think you needed to learn how to drive, which you thought was silly.

‘What if I need to go somewhere?’

‘Where could you possibly need to go without me?’

‘What if we have our baby, and there’s an emergency?’

‘Call me, I’ll take care of you. Besides, you should probably worry about managing to get pregnant before you worry too hard about that, babe.’

The memory made your skin crawl, and made you more determined to learn yourself. In the distance of the parking lot, you can see Logan leaning against his bike, smoking a cigar.  When you told him during your regular lunches you returned too that he was going to teach you to drive, Logan tried to insist it should be him instead. You told him you weren’t going to learn on a motorcycle before a car. When he pouted, you said that you’d let him teach you to ride a motorcycle one day. That made him smile. He was still apprehensive, but you promised he could watch just in case.

“Look out!” Remy’s call brought you back to reality, him grabbing the steering wheel and turning only just in time to swerve the curve of the car from crashing straight into it. The car jumps the curb and you hear a loud pop, but as soon as you had heard his exclamation, you had taken your foot off the gas. For a moment the car sputtered slowly as you drove back onto the parking, then it stop with a shake. Logan was there, his hands on the hood and preventing the little bit of engine power that made the car go in drive from pushing forward. The fear in his eyes as he locked into yours make your heart clench, but you were too busy feeling guilty for whatever you did to Remy’s car.

“Remy! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim as you put the car into park.

His hand is on his heart, but he’s looking you over. “Don’t worry about me, I can heal. Did you hit your head?”

“But your car!” Tears blur at your eyes fast. This is why you never learned. You were too stupid to learn. You were just a dumb stupid idiot girl who could drive and couldn’t do math and could get pregant so what was the fucking point of you? Stupid, stupid, stu-

Strong hands pulled your face to him, eyes wide and blown out and looking over you. “Baby doll, are you hurt? Is anything hurting?”

The tears stream down your face, panic rising in your gut. Remy was going to hate you. Your friend was going to hate you.

“I broke his car!!” You exclaim, sobbing loudly. 

Confusion flitters across his face. Ever gentle, Logan takes your face in his hands, getting close so that you couldn’t avoid looking at him. “Baby, look at me. Need you to look at me.” When your eyes focused on his dark brown ones again, he gave you a little smile. “Good girl. Now listen to me. You didn’t break his car, the tire popped and the rim is a little busted, but- hey, hey listen to me,- but, Remy isn’t mad, because I’m gonna fix it, right Remy?”

From behind you, Remy speaks, his hand on your back calming you. “I wouldn’t be mad either way, pistache. I promise, it isn’t a big deal.”

You sniffle. “...Did I hurt you guys?” You ask, looking at Logan but directing the question to both.

Logan shakes his head. “We he-”

“I’m not asking about the healing, I’m asking if you got hurt.”

“Little bit in my palms, but it’s nothing now. You were going slow.”

Remy. “Not one bit, I promise. It’s okay.”

You give a little nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.” Logan thumbs away a tear. 

After you calmed down down enough to tell him you were hurt, just shaken up, Logan look visibly relieved. Remy went to the store with Logan’s card (Remy promised it was okay, but Logan wanted to pay), and got the parts Logan needed to repair, Logan took you up to your room.

“Are you sure you’re okay, dolly?”

“Yeah… yeah I’m okay… Can you… maybe stay with me while Remy’s out?”

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me.”

The accident had scared you, but what scared you more was that they’d get mad at you, hurt you. You were so prepared to take a beating, and you would have deserved it. 

“Remy isn’t mad, right?” You ask once again, still nervous.

Logan frowned. “No, no he isn’t. Not one bit. In fact, he’s probably forgotten all about it and is flirting with some unlucky cashier as we speak.”

That made you chuckle, but quickly even that joy was gone. “I thought… I thought he was gonna start yelling at me… or hit me or something… I don’t understand how he’s so calm.”

His frown turned into something dark, a coldness washing his face that sent a chill through you. This wasn’t the Logan you knew, but you’d seen something akin to it before, when the man at the store yelled at you. “Has he ever hurt you?”

Your eyes go wide. “No! No, oh my god, absolutely not.”

“Has he ever yelled at you? Because I’ll kill him, I swear to god dolly, I’ll-”

“No! Logan,” You take his hand, thumbing over the hair at the top. “I promise, Remy has never so much as rolled his eyes at me.”

There was a pause, Logan searching you for a lie, checking if you were protecting him, your soft little heart not wanting him hurt… He was skeptical.

“Then why did you think he was going to?” When Logan asks this, you shift uncomfortably in your spot at the window seat, looking away, but he squeezes the hand you hold him with. “Talk to me, please.”

You still can’t look at him, ashamed to admit what happened to you, and not really telling the full story… but Logan deserved to know. The way he looked at you, the way you felt for him… he was as good as they came. He deserved to know.

“I told you I was married…” Another light squeeze. “He um… he used to beat me. Badly…”

Logan knew this of course, Charles letting you in on this when you were sick… Ever since then, he’s been trying to figure out who your husband is so he can go slice him open, leaving his guts hanging on your church’s door, intestines wrapped around the door handle. No luck so far.

“How badly, doll?”

“Bad enough to get frequent flyer points at the hospital.” You try to joke, but Logan didn’t think it was funny.

“And no one thought it was suspicious?”

You were so uncomfortable, needing so badly to get away from this conversation. Shame filled you, but what happened, what really fully happened was so much more worse than you could ever tell him, so you gave a simpler version.

“No. I tried to tell a doctor but he… said it was my fault.” Saying it was your fault was only the half of it.

Logan looked like he was ready to commit murder. 

“Tell me his name, doll. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

*

You didn’t, refused to. He didn’t need to go googling that name and find what comes up.

Soon, Remy returned and Logan acquiesced to going to fix the car, only leaving you when it seemed like you might have another anxiety attack if Remy’s car wasn’t fixed.

You watch from your window seat as Logan worked. He had the car up on a jack, replacing the rim and the tire like new. He looked so good like this, that tight white tank top and blue jeans, muscles straining against himself and dirtying up in grease… he looked so good. Things were getting harder and harder to retrain with him, and god, when he was like this? He was exactly the masculinity you were taught to idolize, but with a softness you didn’t expect.

Your fingers were ghosting over your panties before you could stop yourself. A tingly rush came through as you touch over your clit, a mix of shame and pleasure filling you. You never, ever touched yourself. It was a sin, it was wrong. Yout thought. Honestly, you were still recovering from everything you and your husband went through, you hadn’t had time to re-evaluate your beliefs yet. It was all so daunting… but when you swirled over your clit while looking at Logan… you couldn’t help but moan. 

Fuck it.

You were on your way to hell as it was considering what you had done back in Carolina, this was the least of your worries.

Scrambling, you pull off your panties, your skirt giving you easy access to explore your body and feeling what you liked. You imagined Logan touching you, caressing you, telling you the sweet words you’d never heard before.

‘Such a pretty girl, dolly’ he’d say, that rough voice of his crooning against your stomach as he’d touch you. ‘So pretty and good, sweet little angel.’

Logan would make you feel worthy wheen he’d slide his fingers inside.

You pump yourself with your right hand, giving your clit attention with your left and panting heavily. Eyes remained on Logan as he lifted the tire up to the rim, mounting it on again and those muscling bulging even from your view 3 floors up. You pump faster, imagine his words and gentle touches. Logan was always so gentle with you, so careful and kind and filling you with praise you didn’t get before.

‘You’re doing so well, dolly.’ He would tell you, you know he would. Logan always complimented your food, your clothes, how you were with the children… surely he’d compliment your body, how good you were for him… he called you something today, a good girl… yeah he’d call you a good girl knuckles deep, right? ‘Good girl, my little baby doll’

As Logan bolted the tire to car, you feel the orgasm approaching and echo hose words he’d said in the car, over and over again as you watched and imagined it was Logan touching you, ‘good girl, good girl, good girl’ On repeat until it crashed into you.

Caught by surprise, you cry out his name, shouting in pleasure as you ride out your orgasm on your fingers,  wave after wave of pleasure gushing out onto your fingers, body shaking with the intensity. You’d come here and there with your husband. He was pretty good looking and occasionally made things good for you, but this? This was something else. Just the idea of Logan surpassed anything your husband had given you.

Sweaty and panting, you rest of the window, forehead pressed to the cool air.

When you open your eyes, your body ran cold.

Logan was looking right at you.

After

“It’s Logan’s, isn’t it?”

You gasp, startled so much from Scott just appearing behind her more than the words, but as you clean up your spilled rice from the counter, what he said sunk in.

“Sorry.” Scott mumbles, brushing the rice into his hand to throw away. “Thought you heard me come in. I wasn’t quiet.”

“I’m partially deaf, right ear.” You tap it, trying to steer him away from his questions. “Can’t really hear much out of there.”

He’s still staring at you. “That didn’t answer my question.”

Heat creeps up your body. You didn’t want anyone to know, but you were also scared for Scott. Everyone knew their animosity. That will happen when you sleep with a man’s wife. “I don’t know what you mean.” If Scott figured out you were pregnant with Logan’s baby, it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out you aren’t talking to Logan. If he thinks anything is amiss in your relationship, you’re concerned he’ll confront Logan. 

“You can talk to me.”

The urge to laugh at that was strong. You couldn’t even tell Remy what happened, why would Scott think you’d talk to him? You barely knew him. And thank fucking god Mr. Xavier was away or you’re sure he’d pick up on all this. You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted it to have never happened. You wanted your Logan back. You wanted the Logan you knew before.

“Did he hurt you?”

You hadn’t realized you’ve been staring off into space, but his words make you snap over to him, looking right into his glasses.

“No!” You say quickly, the words sputtering out as denial seeps into your bones. “No, Logan wouldn’t hurt me, Mr. Summers. Logan just wouldn’t. He would do that!” Tears burn behind your eyes as you protest too much. “Logan is kind, and he’s gentle and he- he protects me! He wouldn’t hurt me!”

“Hun-”

“HE WOULDN'T! He protects me! Logan wouldn’t hurt m-me!” The final words came out in a sob, and you realize how suspicious you sounded. Were you saying this to Scott, or to yourself? Were you really denying what he’d done? If you were, you were as crazy and Logan was… but something about your words felt… good. Logan wouldn’t do that to you. Logan isn’t a rapist. 

There’s a beat of silence, Scott’s mouth opening to protest, but he seems to think better of making a crying girl cry more.

“Alright hun, if you say so. Logan wouldn’t hurt a fly.” There is a hint of sarcasm, but it was light enough you could brush it off. Your Logan wouldn’t hurt a fly. Your Logan came into your room as you screamed at a wolf spider, trapped it in his hands and let it go out the window. Your Logan held your in his arms when the nightmares didn’t relent, even though he had woken up from his own. No one understood your Logan. 

*

The girl was sleeping in the back seat.

Kurt and Logan’s pairing had been intentional. Kurt, a devout Catholic, was there to try and sway girl family with theology, convince them that their mutant daughter, Cecilia, was not possessed, but rather gifted by God, who had a divine purpose for her. They preferred to keep families together if possible, not wanting to separate children from their families.

When that didn’t work, and Kurt’s bleeding heart struggled to do what had to be done, that’s where Logan came in. No one was killed, but Logan came close with the father. When he looked at the young girl, he saw you as a teenager, needing help.

Now, as they drive back to New England, she rested, underweight and no sleep for days. They’d stopped at a Culvers, Kurt’s favorite, and got her a whole meal with ice cream included, which she devoured, and they were off.

“You and the young fräulein on the outs, my fruend?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Everyone single one of you is so fucking nosy.”

“Judging by the tone, I’d say that’s a yes”

Kurt was lucky Logan liked him. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel as Kurt chows down on some fries. “There may have been a mild… disagreement.”

He chuckles. “And what did you do?”

“The fuck makes you think it’s my fault?”

“Deine kleine Puppe würde keiner Fliege etwas zuleide tun”

“English”

“You’ve lived all these years and you never bothered to learn another language?”

“Kurt.”

“Your little doll wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Logan snapped his head over to his driving partner. “What the fuck did you just call her?” His tone was harsh, an aggression Kurt wasn’t used to towards him.

Kurt frowned. “Little doll?”

“Don’t fuck’n call her that.”

A beat. “Why?”

“That’s for me. Not you.”

The confusion was clear, but Kurt knew better than to push it.

“When was the last time she’s been to church?”

That made Logan glance over again. “Since she left her family, probably.”

He nodded. “Maybe offer to bring her some weekend.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “The church sent her off to be married to a whole ass adult at 16 and let her get abused. I don’t think-”

“The IBLP is a fucking cult, Logan. But not every church is like that.”

A scoff escapes him. “I’m sure. Let me guess, you want her to go to your church?”

Kurt smacked him. “You know damn well I can’t go to mass looking like a demon. Cece’s family about had a panic attack seeing me. No, Logan, I mean like, something less intense. I’m not an idiot, I know you can’t just drop someone into a catholic church. Something like Unitarian Universalist, or a nondenominational church, somewhere she can worship how she chooses.”

There’s a bit of quiet, but Logan is thinking it over. His first instinct was to keep you away from any church ever after what happened to you, but clearly not everyone religious is bad. Hell, Kurt was going to be a priest for a while, and he’s alright. Maybe you needed that. You did still believe… after all your long late-night talks, he knew that much… Considering the baby you were carrying, maybe this would help calm your nerves. You needed hope, a reminder in love and how important family was, how important the family he had with you was…

Thanks for all the love you've been giving this series! It genuinly means so much.

As per the last poll, Im surprised t find remy is makin everyone suspicious! Crazy!

Anyway, now that we've met Kurt and Scott....

If you have any idea for a poll next time, let me know!

Also go ahead and comment or send me anons with any songs you think fit the playlist!

As always, comments mean the world. thank you for all the wonderful comments and the indepth thoughts!

Dark Logan and Dark Scott with reader

dark reader x logan

Logan pregnant scotts wife reader

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

[ploompkin]

More young Harley and Elliot father/son headcanons below the cut because…! They’re cute 👉👈

- So now we know that Harley had a Bron toy as a child (is that canon? Just the VA’s interpretation? Doesn’t matter, it’s cute, I’m rolling with it). What if Elliot was the one who gave him one? What if, that kick started an obsession with dinosaurs? Harley sitting on Elliot’s knee as the man reads through a pop-up book with him (doing silly voices for the dinosaurs of course). Harley tells him to stop, but he can’t stop giggling.

- I read a fic by phoen1xR1s1ng on AO3 that inspired this— but what if the YGP kids slept in a dormitory in Playcare and Harley had night terrors semi-regularly? After a particularly bad one (a full panic attack, throwing up kind) Elliot quietly sits with Harley on the grassy banks in Playcare, far enough away from the dorms that no one can overhear their hushed conversation. They’d talk or… Elliot would read Harley a story or a poem until he grows drowsy… maybe Harley even falls asleep there and then, drooling and slumped against Elliot’s side. The man takes off his jacket and drapes it over Harley’s shoulders— before falling asleep right along with him.

- Elliot (attempting to) teach Harley how to meditate, in order to curb his extreme anger issues. It’s… only semi successful. Objectively Harley can see the benefits, but on a social level, as an abused and also just… pre-teen/early-teen boy, he thinks it’s dumb and too vulnerable. Even so, even into adulthood he carries with him some of those breathing and mindfulness techniques. They work. Until they remind him of Elliot— and they don’t. Then he just gets more upset.

- Elliot giving Harley a present and a card for his birthday. Harley being so confused at first, not because he doesn’t understand what birthdays are, but because he didn’t think anyone would ever want to celebrate his. After two or three birthdays of Elliot celebrating with him, Harley learns Elliot’s birthday, and hand-makes him a card and present (since he doesn’t have any money to buy one). He’s going to give him them… but at the last minute sees another YGP member gift Elliot a “proper” gift, like a book or champagne that their parents bought, and he chickens out and just… dumps the gifts where they are.

Elliot later finds them and reads the card, and finds out it’s from Harley. He seeks the boy out to thank him personally and asks why he didn’t give him these in person… Harley replies that “they’re not real gifts” and “have no real value.” Elliot replying that he’s wrong. That the gifts are invaluable, because no one else could have made them. He ruffles Harley’s hair and gives him a kiss on the forehead along with his thanks. Harley tries not to smile. He fails.

- At times during the YGP Harley gets ahead of the other kids, but the projects have to slow down in order to accommodate all of their respective learning levels. When Harley gets especially restless or bored, Elliot starts making up maths equations, logical conundrums or puzzles to keep him amused. He often leaves them at random locations around Playcare where he knows Harley frequently visits, but although he never writes who they’re from, Harley knows who’s leaving them. He rolls his eyes at some of the easier ones, but the idea that Elliot thought of him in the first place makes him warm inside.