#Calculus for dummies

[hylianengineer]

I did not expect my middle school obsession with theoretical physics to ever come in handy, but now here I am with a job in radiochemistry reading about elementary particles again. I don't remember much of it from back then, but it's kind of cool to find something familiar.

[transgenderer]

I must not mald. Malding is the mind-killer. Malding is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the malding has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

[fligniuz]

sex for homework

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ you ask your cute tutor to help you study for your math final.

word count: 5.5k • part of my study buddies series (read here!) • nsfw • read on ao3

warnings : f! reader; EXPLICIT; dumbification if U squint; praise; oral (m! receiving); pre calc lol

notes : crossposting my shit to tumblr and starting with arguably one of my greatest uses of free will in history. title frommm:

You have a bit of a dilemma.

Well, it would be more accurate to say that you had a dilemma, have had one for quite a while now—your current grievances are merely extensions of a constant, one raging, blood-thirsty, borderline psychopathic problem of a class. MTH121, Concepts & Applications, is the only remaining mathematics credit required for your degree, and, coincidentally, absolutely no one told you that that’s really just a fancy name for pre-calculus. Because the universe hates you.

Your final is tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. If that wasn’t bad enough, your brain has utterly fucked you; months spent poring over formulas and right triangles amounts to nothing in the moment, every relevant fragment of knowledge completely foreign to your burnt out, sleep deprived, caffeine ridden psyche. So here you sit, “studying”, armed with just your textbook and Khan Academy tutorials.

Is it too late to switch majors? Yes, you decide, massaging your temples as you take another glance at your notes. A mass of numbers, variables, and scribbled matrices clogs the pages, complete with your near ineligible annotations, details added in the heat of a lecture. You never knew there could be so many different types of numbers. Solve for x. 5 + 2x to the 2nd power = 8x. Factor x3 - 3x to the 2nd power - 4x + 12. Find the vertex of the function f(x) = x to the 2nd power + 4x + 3. Determine the value of x if the sum of the following sequence converges to 5. How any of this is relevant to your future non-mathematics degree is beyond you.

What the hell is a vertex again? And what does it matter? You’d rather be sleeping, or drunk. Whatever.

You have one saving grace. Since your freshman year you’ve been employing a little cheat-sheet, your one-way ticket to having math explained to you in a language understood by plebeians like yourself: one Luigi Mangione, a friend of a friend of a friend, possibly the smartest guy you know (and you’re far from the only person to voice that opinion). Your self-appointed tutor—and unfortunately for you, probably the most appetizing of any of the frat guys you’ve met in college, to put it chastely. The actual knowledge is just a bonus, really, because unlike other tutors you’ve worked with Luigi seems to actually care; he wants you to walk away from him with a solid understanding of the material, rather than a temporary knowledge that gets your homework done but is absent from your memory by the time of your exams. And it’s hard to write off the fact that he’s easy on the eyes.

…Pretty damn hard, actually. Because—in all honesty—you’re really into Luigi. Another thing that’s hard to do is get your math homework done when you’re busy fucking yourself with your fingers, like you tend to do after your time with him, thinking about his cock, his hands, the way he would fill you, pin you down underneath him, smirk at you and tell you dirty things like that’s my girl, that’s my good fucking girl, that’s it, give it to me, show me how pretty you look when you come all over me like this…

Great. At this pace, you’ll never get anything done.

Your phone buzzes.

About an hour ago, you sent him a photo of your current predicament: your laptop and notebook open, and you sitting criss-crossed in front of it, an exaggerated pout on your lips. A few moments later, you sent another, this time of your middle finger pointed directly at your professor’s official portrait. Now, he responds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Smh

Who studies the night before their final?? Dummy

You smile, replying:

i do :(

help pls :((

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : You poor thing

And then:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Come over. In like 15

We’ll work it out together

Score. He adds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : And I better not hear any complaining when I make you actually do the math

Your crush feels elementary, like you’ve got the hots for the nerdy jock on the playground that’s miles out of your league and that every girl on planet Earth is fighting tooth and nail for. You respond:

no promises :P

You pray to your lucky stars that you can study as nonchalantly as humanly possible.

You told him you wouldn’t complain, and you’ve tried, you really have. But dividing radicals is fucking stupid and useless and the more you look at your paper the more these numbers and symbols really start to look all the same to you, just scribbles, meaningless scribbles of made-up concepts that have nothing to do with your career prospects whatsoever. Who gives a flying fuck about solving equations with these weird ass numbers that normal people don’t even use?

You must be thinking out loud, because Luigi laughs next to you on the couch. He is laughing at your frustration. What an emotionally supportive tutor. You groan and thread your fingers through your hair, massaging your temples.

Still smiling just slightly, he starts to gather up your things. “Alright, look, how about we take a break?” He glances over at you, still holding your head in your hands. “Yeah, let’s take a break for a minute.”

He gets up from the couch, disappears into the kitchen for just a moment. Comes back with a glass of orange juice. For you. You try not to think about how pathetic it is that the most romantic gesture a man has done for you in the past three years is bring you juice. Instead you watch him, sipping slowly��no pulp, he knows you so well—and peeking through your eyelashes as he scuttles around his dorm, just the two of you alone together, while he throws some laundry into a basket and absentmindedly closes doors of unoccupied rooms. You have never noticed how defined his calves are before, nor how his curls bounce just slightly when he walks fast or how his shorts sag on his hips just right, just enough for you to get a peek of his V-line and the waistband of his boxers when he raises his arms to stretch—

Nonchalant. Demure. Mindful. You are failing so hard at the one thing you’ve forbidden yourself from doing: staring at him until your eyes are practically burning holes in his clothes and he’s melting into the floor. Not entirely your fault. He should’ve known to dress modestly around you. Around anybody, for that matter.

Luigi comes to sit by you now. As you tuck your hair behind your ears you can feel his arm move to rest along the back of the couch, almost around you, but not quite.

“Hi,” you say, propping your head up on your arm.

He smiles at you. You can’t even look him in the eye. “Did you think more about your radicals?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well, what were you thinking about?”

You swallow the conspiratorial intuition that he has to be fucking with you. Maybe he sees it on your face. Can smell it on you. Something.

“I was trying to think of some things I’d rather be doing,” you offer. “Instead of math.”

Your heart feels three beats faster all of a sudden, and when did he get so close to you? Your thighs are touching, his knee brushing against yours. “And what did you come up with?” he asks.

Oh, fuck. He’s definitely fucking with you. Right? He has that goddamn smirk on his face, that one that makes your insides twist with a feeling reserved only for boys who look at you just like this, like you’re busted, like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about every second you’ve spent sitting next to him doing algebra. You want to kiss it right off of him.

“Nothing,” you lie, sitting up straight and trying to pretend like you really are interested in your studies. “Here, will you show me how to do it again?”

He calls your name. He doesn’t even have to ask for you to look at him; the tone of his voice and the tilt of his head makes his intentions entirely clear. When your eyes meet his he inches closer, and all you can manage to do is stare at his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, stern and warm enough to boil.

If he truly knew what he was asking for he wouldn’t be asking at all, you think. Not unless he was prepared for whatever your fervent need has in store for him. Embarrassment feels bright red and prickly on your skin. “I shouldn’t say.”

”But I think you should,” he whispers.

Oh. Oh. All bets are off, now. This has officially progressed from studying to “studying”.

Luigi lets you lead, his hand settling on the small of your back as you come a little closer to kiss him, properly. You hear him giggle before your lips meet; the curve of his smile against you is unmistakable, casting sparks through your body and down your thighs. He tastes like spearmint. You learn quickly that he is a fantastic kisser, and his tongue finds yours with curious excitement when your breathing starts to pick up. Without question, he claims the expanse of you, drinking in your essence, licking, biting. Those irresistible curls demand attention, and so you thread your fingers through his hair, your hand sweeping from behind his ear to the nape of his neck. Luigi shivers under your touch, exhaling softly against you.

When the fingers of his left hand raise to grasp your leg, you stop kissing him only to swing your body over his lap so that you’re straddling him. Luigi breathes in deep then, like his nervous system collectively seizes at the feeling of you so close. To give him room to breathe you stop short of settling all your weight onto him. Lips meeting once more, his hands greet your hips; his touch is warm, and timid, like you’re made of sand, like you might collapse and dissolve into immeasurable particles between his fingers.

He groans into your mouth. Murmurs your name. “This isn’t very productive,” he quips.

“Intellectually, no,” you agree, nails brushing the back of his neck. He has goosebumps. A ghost of a smile dancing on your lips, you slowly lower yourself down onto his lap; there are two layers of clothes between your bare skin but he is impossibly warm against you. “But what about physically?”

Luigi smiles, and fuck, he is too fucking beautiful. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

And so you kiss him again and again and again, your heart doing backflips inside your chest when his big hands glide lower, and lower, thumb toying with the waistband of your skirt, and lower still, until he’s gripping your ass. You can’t help but nuzzle against the growing stiffness underneath you, poking between your thighs—and you definitely can’t help but love the way he grinds back, hips meeting yours with just as much enthusiasm. Fuck. About an hour ago you were working through polynomials and linear equations, and now the dreamiest guy you’ve ever met is hard for you, holding you in his lap. You might as well thank your professor.

When Luigi sucks at your bottom lip for a few euphoric moments, you make the most pathetic sound into his mouth, and he growls, his hands suddenly coming up to grasp your hips and hold them steady. “Was this your plan all along?” he rasps, his lips moving swiftly to the side of your face, your jaw, the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Sharp teeth graze skin and you whimper. “What do you mean?”

“What, now you’re playing coy?” Luigi finds the pulse point in your throat and bites, softly at first, then harder when your fingers curl into the hair at the back of his head. “You didn’t want to study. You called me because you wanted to get fucked, because you knew I’d want to touch you just like this, didn’t you?”

This boy is out of his mind. First he practically eye-fucks you while schooling you about imaginary numbers, and then he “scolds” you like he’s disappointed in your lack of interest in algebra, like he’s mad that you can’t resist him for being so damn gorgeous. That half-hearted meanness in his tone leaves butterflies in your stomach, in no way helped by the feeling of his tongue sliding over your collarbone.

“No,” you mutter. It’s not completely a lie. You really did need his help with the math, which he is really good at…but you can’t deny that you were really hoping you two would end up like this, with him kissing your neck all over until you’re speckled with purple and pink. You don’t even care about the obvious evidence of him on your skin—you want his entire dorm hall to know just how well-acquainted the two of you are by the time he’s done with you. The thought of everyone knowing you’re his makes you weak.

Luigi is kissing you again, slowly and deeply, one hand coming up to cup your breast through your shirt. His touch is too much and not enough simultaneously, your need overwhelming, and your hips are searching desperately for friction, rolling against him eagerly. So much for nonchalance.

He grasps your chin, firm but not at all painful, and flashes you that pretty smile, tutting, “I don’t believe you.”

Your mind is far too preoccupied with thoughts of his touch in other places to try to formulate a witty rebut. You opt instead to kiss him harder and sneak a hand between your bodies, tracing over his chest, down his carefully crafted abdomen, and then over the front of his shorts, groping his hard cock through polyester. Luigi groans into your mouth. He is big, almost intimidating, and imagining him inside of you has your body feeling hot all over.

As you palm the outline of his length through his trousers, his hands make their way underneath your sweater, the sudden warmth of him jolting through your torso. You look up at him through your lashes and he smirks.

“Do you want to sit on it?” he asks you, entirely stoic despite the weight of his words.

You kiss him, still squeezing his cock. “Can I put it in my mouth first?”

Fuck. You have him wrapped around your finger. How could he possibly say no when you ask so sweetly? Luigi is instantly pulling down his shorts for you, the rustle of fabric making your head spin. He’s left in just his boxers and a sweater that you quickly help him shrug off, too. Once you have him undressed, he takes a moment to survey you, your cheeks flushed, eyes lidded, hair tousled from his hands. You feel a surge of confidence now that you have his full attention and so you pull your top up and over your head, smiling when he reaches behind you to help you with your bra. He has it and your skirt off in just a few seconds, leaving your combined clothes to pile up next to the couch.

You shift so that you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, wearing only your panties, watching him watching you. He is grinning, his cock standing proud, and you know you must be blushing by the way his teeth flash from under the curve of his lips. You feel gooey and hot in the pit of your stomach. Swallowing your shyness, you reach forward to take him in your hand. He’s already sticky at the tip, precum glistening on his slit, and so you begin to stroke him, starting at the head of his dick and spreading slick down his shaft. His cock is probably the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen, at the very least a runner-up for his face: tan and thick, his girth evenly distributed, and big enough to have you feeling your heartbeat between your legs. There is a prominent vein along the underside of him, ending at his frenulum. He pulses with each movement of your hand.

Once he’s as wet as you like, you come closer to tease him with your tongue, licking up the base, tracing his vein, passing over his slit. Luigi groans—“fuuuuuck, baby,”—and threads his fingers into your hair, tugging hard.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” he rasps. “You asked for this. Show me what that mouth can do.”

Your lips are halfway wrapped around the head of him and when you moan at his words it vibrates through him, his abs flexing deliciously. You move further down, then, mouth closed around his length, applying light pressure on your way back up. He’s too big to take all of him at once and so your left hand grasps the length you can’t reach, pumping gently. You start a subtle, easy rhythm, evenly paced and obviously satisfying enough to have Luigi panting and swearing above you: your mouth starts at his tip, sucking gently, then gliding lower, until you can feel him in the back of your throat and you’re nearly gagging on him—and then you move upward again, cheeks hollowing around him, finally reaching the head of him once more. Rinse and repeat. It is organized. Formulaic. Your process leaves you practically drooling on his cock, spit collecting at the base where you are stroking him. Fuck. You haven’t pleased a guy like this in quite a while, and under any other circumstances you’d probably feel a bit insecure about your work; but it’s difficult to justify any doubts you might have, what with the noises coming from above you:

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby, yes, just like that, fuck yes,” Luigi moans, fingers knotted tightly in your hair. “Oh my god, your mouth…”

You slip your free hand into your panties, middle and ring finger rubbing your clit.

As your ministrations intensify, his reactions do, too. You can feel his thighs and hips tensing in an effort not to fuck into your throat. But you made a promise to yourself; you want to take the entirety of his length in your mouth before all of this is over, and so you move your left hand down to his balls, kneading him and carefully lowering your face until your nose is pressed into the curly hairs of his groin, his cock as deep as it can reach. And Luigi keens, head thrown back against the couch, one hand in your hair and the other gripping the armrest tight. You can feel him twitching in your throat.

There are a few blissful moments of you sucking him just like this, sinking him deep into your throat and pinching your lips around his tip, and you almost wish the two of you were recording because the sounds he makes are top tier jerk material for at least the next few months. He’d be a natural on camera. You want to commit every second of this to your memory.

When he goes quiet for a moment you open your eyes to look at him. You find him staring down at you, mouth agape. “Are you touching yourself?” he asks.

It’s difficult to answer with his dick in your mouth, so you settle for moaning around him again, eyes fluttering shut.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts, his voice sweeter than sugar.

You could sit here sucking him off for the rest of your life—you could die with his dick in your mouth—but you regrettably begin to feel your jaw aching, knowing full well that keeping this up will have you hurting. Not that you really mind. When you begin to sputter and tear up around him, he grabs both sides of your face and pulls your mouth off of his cock. You are crying, just a little, crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks, your throat raw.

Luigi looks down at you sweetly. “Oh, baby,” he coos, wiping your wet face dry with his thumbs. “That’s my perfect girl. So good to me. Come here.”

He welcomes you back onto his lap with open arms and a smile. He is warm, so warm and soft against you, you could fall asleep just like this. But he is kissing you now, so slowly that you feel dizzy, and so you ground yourself, fingers embracing his curls. His hands move to your hips, grasping the waistband of your panties, teasing you, rubbing the fabric against your heat. When he finally has them off his fingers are instantly examining you, collecting your slick, slipping through your folds.

“Let’s see about a little reward for you, hm?” he whispers, capturing your lips with his.

You kiss him eagerly and arch your back so that your thighs spread wide enough for his fingers to enter you with ease—not that it would be difficult without, considering that you’re so wet you can hear him touching you, even over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Two long digits move inside of you, stretching you, massaging that spot that makes your knees buckle and your eyes cross, plus a few more that you never knew existed. His touch feels so good, just how you imagined, and you have to lean forward into the crook of his neck to keep yourself upright, your teeth sinking into a firm shoulder. Luigi makes a gruff sound, almost a chuckle, and his cock jumps at your whiny, choked noises when he adds a third finger into your pussy.

“So needy, aren’t you?” he teases. “Have you been thinking about this, gorgeous? About sucking my cock and taking my fingers like this?”

You nod, because of course you have. In that exact order. Who wouldn’t?

Luigi smiles at you, soft and adoring. You make a curious sound and his fingers depart from you, lingering at your entrance until you grind down into his lap. Your cunt brushes against him, raw, hungry, slathering his cock with your slick.

“I want you,” you whine, grabbing his face and kissing him again. “I want all of you.”

“Yeah, baby?” His hands are guiding your hips, moving you slowly against him. “Tell me about it.”

Well, you would, if your brain weren’t short-circuiting at the moment. His fault. You mumble into his ear, something about infinity, something about the way you hug your pillow at night and all the times you’ve fucked yourself stupid thinking about this very image of you and him together like this. But there are countless words for your endless feelings, words you would preach to him from high places if your body had the agency to; your attraction to him is primal, but neatly arranged, layered, wrapped up with variables galore and multiplying with each moment you spend in his presence. A mess, no doubt about it, but one you can control, a tangle to unravel, an equation to solve. Nothing less. You aren’t sure of how this ends but you know that you need him, bad, more than you knew was possible before.

You crash into him, mouths colliding, everything that you left unsaid spilling into your embrace. Words are hard. Kissing Luigi and grinding your warm, throbbing cunt against him takes much less brainpower.

He is speaking to you when you pull away: “Baby, just a second, wait right here, let me get something.” Gently you are pushed from his lap and he disappears into his room momentarily, leaving you waiting, alone, aching for him, until he rounds the corner again with a familiar foil packet, finding his way back to the couch and sweeping you on top of him once more.

“Hi. Sorry.” And now he is fully yours.

You whine and wiggle against him the second the condom is on.

“Shh,” Luigi whispers, “I got you, ‘s okay, gorgeous. Gonna take good care of you, yeah? Don’t you worry. Gonna give you just what you need, baby.”

The tip of his cock is pressing into you, then, slowly easing himself inside, and fuck, he fits just right, fills you up perfectly, has you seeing stars already. The sound you make when he bottoms out is a hop, skip, and a jump away from pornographic. Luigi purrs underneath you.

“Oh, I know, baby, I know.” His hand slides down to grip your ass, spreading you, and from this angle you can feel just how much he stretches you out. And then, as he begins to roll his hips: “My sweet girl, working so hard, can’t even think for yourself, can you, beautiful? That’s okay, baby. I can do all the thinking for you, you just sit back and let me work it out for you, yeah? Don’t think. Just let me please this pussy.”

It’s like he’s trying to kill you. Every single word he says into your ear shoots straight to your cunt, the mere sound of his voice so near you electrifying. He’s deep, and with your thighs spread wide like this you just have to take advantage of the perfect angle to rub your clit against him. You can’t help but squeal into the crook of his neck each time his hips ram up into you, thighs clapping against your ass; by the way his muscles tense you assume it must take much of his energy, and yet he pounds you like you weigh nothing in his lap, exerting himself like it’s a cakewalk so long as he can watch your face shrivel up with overwhelming delectation. You can tell that he loves it when you tug his hair or bite him, and so you do it every chance you get, just in case your hushed utterances in his ear fail to make your message clear enough:

“Luigi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, oh, fuck…”

As he paces himself Luigi wraps his strong arms around you, one caging your waist and the other pulling tight at your hair. Your neck is arched and exposed, leaving him free to smother his love all over you in sharp, uneven hickeys. You needed this, so, so bad, and you tell him exactly that, chanting thank you, thank you, thank you and holding him tight.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. “You can have whatever you want with me. Anything.” His lips meet yours, fleeting, and then, with the slightest hint of a grin: “You earned this, baby.”

You groan directly into his ear. It’s straight from your dreams, you think, like you’ve been swept from your bed in the midst of the night and dropped right here, in the lap of the sweetest, smartest, most handsome boy you’ve ever so much as looked at, bouncing on his cock while he kisses you like you’ll float away if he lets go. The two of you work together to heighten each other’s inevitable undoing, like a function of sorts; Luigi pushes and you push back, meeting his hips every time, your clit brushing against him just right, and him breaching unknown depths of you, hands roaming, learning you inside and out.

“My sweet girl,” he grabs your face and rests his forehead against yours, driving into you with precision. “This is all yours, baby.”

Sweat starts to gather at his hairline and you can feel him shuddering in your arms. Kissing him, you press down on his toned chest, pinning him against the couch, and Luigi is practically singing for you, little grunts and babys and murmurs of your name traveling through your ears and echoing in your mind. You want this to last forever. His hips slow to a stop when you begin to move on your own; you raise yourself up, resting all your weight on your knees, with him sliding out of your cunt until just the tip is still inside—and then you drop down, letting him sink back into you quickly, slick and smooth, his cock so deep you can nearly feel it in your stomach.

Fuck. You love this. You love the way his hands grip your ass, your thighs, rubbing your back, moaning your name and kissing behind your ear. You love the way he looks at you. The pupils of those dark eyes are blown wide, watching you move, worshipping how your tits bounce, the gyration of your hips, the blush of arousal all over you, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth. The sounds of sex and the shameless way he takes in every feature of your body have you feeling hot and ready to burst. You moan his name, drawn out and raspy.

“Yes,” Luigi groans. “You’re so pretty on top of me.”

Even through the haze of your pleasure you smile at his praise. He is telling you everything, every single thought that passes by in his mind, as if there will be no proof of how good he fucked you once you leave his dorm, as if every word will dissipate into thin air and leave you waiting, unsatisfied, hanging on the edge: “You take it so well, baby, my sweet girl, so perfect, so perfect just for me.”

His big hands are all over you. One cups your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth, with the other splayed over your hip. You start to feel dizzy, anxious for his attention, a little bit crazy. Close. Luigi must notice the way your eyes screw shut and your pussy squeezes him tight, because his hand moves down your chest, over your stomach, and then to your clit, circling his fingers with purpose. He wishes—almost—that you were beneath him, so that he could replace his hand with his mouth, trace down your body with his lips and bring you to your very edge with his tongue, over and over again, until you’re begging him to stop.

He settles instead for kissing you, hard, slowly, lingering. “You have no fucking idea how bad I’ve been wanting this, baby.”

You nod, moaning, “yes, yes, me too,” your noises pained and rough in your throat.

The way his cock slams into you with each movement of your hips is ruthless, bruising; he’s kissing you so sweetly and you can feel your climax churning in your abdomen, rippling through you. It knocks the air from your lungs. Sex with him hurts so good. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“Gonna come,” you huff. There are fingernail-sized dents in his skin. “Gonna come for you.”

Luigi nods, whispers, “good girl, such a good girl,” and circles his fingers over your clit as fast as he can manage.

You tense around him at that. You can’t even count how many times you’ve come imagining those very words whispered in your ear by the very man that you’re riding right now.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Yeah? You like that? You like being a good girl for me?”

You nod wildly, and everything feels so real all of a sudden, like you’ve been floating mindlessly in space and you are crashing down into reality. His teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your neck and his hips start to pump again and by the time he’s meeting your thrusts you’ve had enough, thighs shaking, and he starts moaning into your ear so that you know he’s right there with you, and fuck, he’s really trying to kill you—

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. A 5’11, dark haired and brown eyed muscle truck that looks at you like you are the only good thing left in the world.

For a moment there is only your deep panting and his equally spent breaths as the both of you rest, his hand tracing gentle patterns on your back, yours combing through his sweat-soaked curls. The dorm is quiet, calm, almost with an air of innocence, completely unswayed by the heady aftermath of what the two of you just did right there on the couch. You lean back and look into his eyes, brooding and trained entirely on you. And he has that stupid grin on his face, the one that gives both of you away for good, the one that screams we’re not the only ones who know what we’ve been up to.

You want to kiss it right off of his beautiful, beautiful face. But right now you just sigh, lean into his shoulder, and let him hold you tight. Tonight you will walk back to your dorm, all the way on the other side of campus, where your roommates will be waiting for you, likely getting ready for bed. You will walk inside and they will watch you without a clue as to whose hands have been on you, whose name has been on your lips, whose cock has been buried to the hilt inside of you for the past hour. Your legs will be aching—you are sure of it.

Your roommates will ask you, “how’d it go?”, completely unaware of what your wobbly smile really means, how you really spent your time with your cute tutor.

And you will respond, “oh, great,” with a barely masked giggle. “I’m gonna ace my test tomorrow.”

^ dividers by cafekitsune

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o- charismatic killer trope.

1. SUNRISE SCARE

Ethan: Wake up, baby. I can see you sleeping in.

Y/n: i am awake. im already brushing my teeth.

Ethan: no, you aren’t. I’m watching you right now.

Y/n: how

Ethan: The window. You’re so vulnerable when you’re asleep.

Y/n: I can’t see you.

Ethan: But that’s the point, love.

Ethan: please get out of that nightgown, before I take it off for you.

Y/n: why? what is it doing to you?

Ethan: I’ll show you later.

Y/n: oh ?

Ethan: good morning by the way ❤️

2. TEASER

Y/n: hey. you get the answer for #12?

Ethan: Oh, dear. My girlfriend is cheating on the math homework.

Y/n: im not cheating, dummy. im asking an educational question.

Ethan: If you can cheat so easily on calculus, how do I know you’re loyal to me?

Y/n: because we both know what would happen to me if I would cheat on you, ethan.

Ethan: and what’s that?

Y/n: …

Ethan: you think I would kill you?

Y/n: don’t lie to me. we both know you can’t control yourself around me. i know you touched yourself while stalking me when we weren’t dating.

Ethan: such disgusting thoughts. I might need to fuck your brains out to get rid of them, don’t you think?

Y/n: in what way would you take my brains out? With a knife? Or with your cock?

Ethan: we’re in class

Y/n: are you hard right now?

Y/n: hello? it’s just a question.

Y/n: if you don’t answer me, i’ll ask Chad to fuck me instead. i’ll enjoy letting him bend me over.

Ethan: I can’t wait to see his blood on my hands. what day should I do it? today? kill him tonight?

Y/n: it was a joke. i just didn’t realize i turned you on that fast, ethan.

Ethan: don’t act dumb with me. you know what you’re fucking doing.

Y/n: no, i don’t. you should really answer my question.

Ethan: don’t act like you aren’t aware that I’m throbbing in my jeans

Ethan: stop acting like this

Ethan: i’m gonna fucking punish you so hard tonight

Y/n: lol because of giving you an erection?

Ethan: i can’t wait to see how much you’ll laughing when I’ll have a knife to your throat.

Ethan: making you scream with my dick.

Ethan: you want that?

Y/n: yes

Ethan: fucking whore.

Y/n: you love it.

Ethan: I do.

[astrae4]

A LADY’S GUIDE TO SECURING A MAN WITH BROAD SHOULDERS | park sungho

pairings — park sungho x reader (non idol au)

genre — (wc: 1.5k) fluff, romance 😼, strangers to lovers, fast-burn

warnings — ur kinda stalking him.. a bit…

note — HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SUNGHO!!! Guys i lowk want a man with shoulders as broad as his 🙁 is that too much to ask.. ALSO DANGEROUS WAS SO GOOD!!! The song teases too omg..right in my alley. I cannot wait for the album drop 😋😋

more works: navigation | bnd!masterlist

YOU SWEAR YOU’VE NEVER BEEN this interested in gyms before. Yeah, sure, you’re sporty. But gym sporty? Yeah no—that’s another level of torture.

Right now though…man you might just change your mind. You do one more bench press, super slow with your focus elsewhere—namely, the mirror on your right that shows a small reflection of the most scrumptious man you have ever seen in your life.

Those shoulders? Good gosh, they’d be perfect for your hands to rest on, agree?

(And the crowd screams yes!!!)

This was how you started being more consistent in the gym. Currently in week three and you’re so proud that you’re broken your world record of gym streaks.

You’ve decided then: you’re going to get him.

There was just one slight problem to this equation… you don’t have any courage to talk to him.

All you know are three facts:

His name was Park Sungho (how’d you know?you overheard a friend of his call him once. You’re not a creep, okay!!)

He had the most gorgeous shoulders known to mankind.

You want him.

Okay so maybe the third one isn’t really a fact—and you swear (cross your heart!) that your infatuation with him isn’t merely because his eyes are as twinkly as the moon, nor because his lips were plump and not crusty like most men, nor is it also because his voice is just…

Anyways! You get what I mean.

That was how you ended up ranting everything to your friend Sanghyeok—which apparently calls himself Riwoo now because he said he felt more cool and mysterious with that name. ( ok get it our nonchalant dread head!! )

“Park Sungho??” Asked Riwoo, startled once you blurted everything, “you mean the one with the pointy nose and sweet voice?”

You paused and raised an eyebrow at him, “duh? Have you been listening this whole time?”

“No not like that—you mean Park Sungho in class 19.99 right? He’s in your calculus class, dummy.”

“Wait—WHAT.”

Riwoo threw you a deadass stare, before fishing a muffin out his pocket and shoving his face in it. Perhaps he knew you too well as you started shaking him for answers.

”Just go approach him—”

”I can’t!”

”Then stop talking to me about it!”

“Please, my-Ri-to-the-woo—”

”UGH FINE! But no promises and you buy me a dozen donuts tomorrow.”

”Deal!”

You didn’t get him that dozen of donuts, but Lee Sanghyeok, being the good friend he is, still ended up conversing with his Sungho hyung in their shared dance class for you.

Luckily for you, he managed to score a hangout—the three of you—for next Wednesday over coffee and desserts.

Finally, with all the gears set in, you could start with ‘diary entry 1: A LADY’S GUIDE TO SECURING A MAN WITH BROAD SHOULDERS’

(yes, it’s meant to be this long)

1. A lady hints, not talks

The first ever step-slash-rule to secure a man is to give hints. Yes, hints. No way are YOU the one to make the first move, you hear me ladies? 😒 If he doesn’t pick up on the clues, then you drop!

Wednesday came. And boy, it came with a lot of nervousness, I tell you! But you were ready. Dropped in the cutest fit you have—a pair of jeans with a puffy dress on top (THIS COMBO>>>)—you were absolutely ready to charm Park Sungho.

It took you a while, but you made it on time (5 minutes late) to the cafe, Riwoo and Sungho conversing already at a table near the windows. Riwoo was the first to see you, sending a wave. You returned it, and right after, Sungho sent you one too—albeit less dramatic. Your smile turned up a bit more before sending a smaller wave back to him.

”Hi guys! Sorry if I’m late.”

”It’s okay, we just came,” replied Riwoo, “this is Sungho, my friend in Dance. Sungho, this is my best friend, [reader]”

Sungho stood up to shake your hand, and you both exchanged ‘nice to meet you’(s).

”Let me get coffee real quick!” You told them, before going to the cashier.

After you ordered, you went back to your seat.

“How are you these days, [reader]?” asked Riwoo

”Good, although I think I overworked my feet yesterday, It hurts slightly,” you replied, which by the way, was a big fat lie.

“Ah, is it doing better now?” asked Sungho, who was deeply concerned.

”It should be, I think,” you replied shortly.

More small talk was made before your order number got called. You went up to get it but before you could fully stand—

“I’ll get it for you, [reader],” answered Sungho.

“Huh?” both you and Riwoo replied in shock.

“You should rest your feet since they might still be in pain if you overexert it,” he replied simply.

“Oh there’s really no need, Sungho—“ you denied at first despite the fact that you were internally giggling.

“Please, I insist,” He replied with a smile that almost melted you on the spot, before taking your receipt and heading to the cashier.

It was silent for a moment before your eyes met Riwoo’s, and his met yours. Both of you kicked each other’s feet before suppressing a big fat grin.

2. a lady takes no risks

consult God (or a fortune teller if you’re not religious) to make sure this man is for you. Use the mind, not the heart.

“Okay,” You muttered to yourself like a nutjob, “IF. And only IF he is the one…um..” you paused your prayer for a second because you had no idea what to say.

You decided to just settle for the classic, “Please send me a sign, amen.”

And with that, you fixed your hair and applied pink lip gloss before leaving the house.

Step after steps, you kept thinking of him until you reached the actual library. You took a deep breath before going in. You were early this time, but it seems that Park Sungho has a matter of showing up super early, because he’s already there—sitting in a seat near the windows.

He had his back facing you, so you snuck up on him quietly before placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Sungho,” you muttered quietly, and he jolted, spinning around to look at you fast.

Were you delusional, or is he staring at you?

“Sungho..?” you repeated.

That seemed to jolt him out of his state, “Oh, [reader]—yes, sorry for that. I was out of it—“

You giggled before taking a seat beside him, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

There wasn’t much small talk after that, as you both seemed focused and determined to do well on your project. Mid-way, however, a crash followed by a yelp took you out of your very focused state. You turned to see Sungho—only, a book fell on top of his head.

“Sorry!” said a boy above you looking down on the rails. You both seemed to recognize him as Myung Jaehyun, who’s also in your shared calc class together.

“Why that—“ said Sungho, before he gives you a quick brb and went upstairs; probably to murder Jaehyun.

You picked up the book on the ground, and then stilled when you read the title.

‘The Sign’ by Robert Van Kampen.

Oh.

I mean, you’re not opposing now, are you?

3. A lady enjoys the reaps that she sowed

Get rizzed up all night by a nice guy (stream nice guy!!!)

“I love your shoulders,” you muttered at him, a hand on his bicep.

2 months had passed since you first dated each other.

”Oh yeah?” He replied, but his words seemed unfocused and disconnected—I mean, who can blame him when you’re sitting on him, looking so cute after you both just made out.

“Mhm,” you answered once more.

”Tell me more,” He asked.

You did, but midway you realized he was just looking over your lips—not paying attention. You rolled your eyes.

“Are you even list—“

He cut you off with another kiss. It lasted a while before he pulled away once more.

”Can’t believe I’m yours,” He whispered, smiling goofily.

You giggled. Yeah, Park Sungho’s yours. The man with broad shoulders is yours.

TAGLIST: @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse

NETWORKS: @k-labels @onedoornet

© astrae4 2024 — please don't copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[beliscary]

#i liked the thought of dion hving a WAYY harder time coming to terms with his Feelings#(esp from what we see in canon he can be very. uh. passionate)#lmao my ideal pre-confession scenario is dion finding out terence is in love & getting worked up on who it is (spoilers: it's you dion)#while wholly denying to himself the entire time that he feels a WEE BIT jealous abt it#and then feels BAD abt feeling jealous in the first place bc “i want my friend to be happy :(” but is miserable abt the whole thing

YES!!! HA HA HA!! YES!!!!!!!!

need to see pre-confession pining mess dion intensely & obliviously mooning after terence arghhhh

[aviscarrentals]

Yelp • Chapter 1 ls2

masterlist previous chapter next chapter

words: 1.5k

warnings: cursing, implied off"screen" deaths, injury/blood, implied character death

notes: this first chapter is mostly just exposition (and a little sad i know), but at the very end you get a sneak peak of the action before everything turns totally cray. (there will be more defined logan x parker in the future chapters as well.) parker is supposed to be the "reader" character. i decided to use a gender-neutral name instead of y/n because that's not my thing. she/her pronouns and feminine descriptions are used, but her gender is not a major plot point at all, so you can totally still read this imagining parker however you want. i hope you enjoy!

“God, it’s so weird just going right back to school like nothing’s even happened,” Parker started.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Five fucking kids are dead, but science! Calculus! English!” he finished mockingly.

“Well, four,” Oscar corrected him, Lily nodding along.

Logan let out a large exhale and nodded. “Crazy he survived that shit considering how fucked up the rest of them were.”

“Well, you know what they say about quiet kids,” Arthur chimed in. The other five immediately turned to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Fred questioned incredulously.

“What?” Arthur demanded. “They’re like actually really cool and badass and stuff.”

“Huh?” Logan inquired with a furrowed brow. “I thought the thing was that they’re like… kinky and shit.”

“Mate, what the fuck?” Arthur responded defensively. “Why would I say that?”

“Well, that’s like the thing people say,” Logan bickered. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ve never heard anyone say that in my entire life.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur retorted, making them all burst out into laughter for a brief moment before they all returned to a somber silence when they remembered the conversation that led them here in the first place.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to class?” Logan pressed, his pleading tone making it obvious that he was asking for his own sake instead of his girlfriend’s.

“No,” Parker laughed him off, pushing his chin off of her shoulder and his arms from around her waist. “The health room is all the way on the other side of the building. You’ll be late. Again.”

“Yeah, well-” Logan began to protest before his newest complaint was interrupted by a loud crack behind him that made the both of them jump. They turned around to see Zhou Guanyu staring back at them guiltily.

“Sorry,” he started to apologize “I just dropped-”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Logan interrupted, as Parker reached down to pick up the textbook that fell from his locker.

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile when she handed it back to him.

“No problem,” she reassured him, returning the expression. “It’s the least I can do, especially considering…” She trailed off, instead gesturing to his left arm which was fully encased in a sling.

After a moment of awkward silence, the girl spoke up again. “Um, what class do you have next? I can help you carry your things,” she offered.

“Bio,” he answered, “but it’s alright,” the boy quickly added. “It’s not far, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way-”

“No, that’s perfect,” she interrupted. “I’ve got psych first period, so I’m headed to the science wing too,” she explained, lifting the heavy load from his hands, right as the morning bell rang.

“Alright,” Logan said, leaning over his girlfriend’s shoulder to give her an instinctual kiss on the cheek. “I better get going. If I’m late to Mrs. K’s class one more time I think she might beat me to death with one of the CPR dummies.”

Parker immediately bore her eyes into her boyfriend’s soul at his word choice, the poor boy not remembering his audience until the words had already left his mouth. Looking like a deer in headlights, he simply turned around and scurried off.

“Sorry,” Parker apologized once she turned back to Zhou, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said, chuckling.

“Shit, we better get going or we’ll be late too.”

“You guys know Zhou, right?” Parker asked the group in front of her as she led the incapacitated boy to her customary lunch spot under the oak trees in the school courtyard. The two were met with a chorus of “yeah”s and welcomes.

“I hope it’s okay that I sit with you guys today,” he asked timidly.

“Yeah, great to have you, man,” Liam assured him as Lily reached across the table to relieve Parker of the extra lunch tray.

“Didn’t we have trig together last year, mate?” Dennis piped up to ask him.

“Um… I’m not sure. I don’t think I would recognize you in class,” the bashful boy responded, leading to a roaring bout of laughter from the crowd.

“Goddamn! He got your ass, Hauger,” Jack said through a fit of childish giggles.

As the conversation continued, Parker couldn’t help but notice that one of the usual members of their crew was missing. “Hey, babe,” she said as she nudged her boyfriend’s rib to get his attention.

“What?”

“Where’s Paul?” she asked, concerned. “He said he was coming to school when I checked in on him yesterday,” the girl recalled.

“Yo, Bearman,” Logan called quietly to the younger boy sitting across from them.

“What’s up?” Ollie questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen Paul at all today? Did he change his mind about coming in?”

“No, he’s here,” Ollie informed the couple. “I think he probably just wants some time to himself right now. Usually…” he trailed off.

Parker and Logan nodded in understanding. Usually Paul wasn’t the only Aron present at the lunch table.

“How are you holding up?” Parker inquired, giving the boy’s hand a gentle squeeze. Paul had lost a brother, but Ollie had lost the next best thing. His best friend. “I’m alright, thanks for asking,” he replied a little too quickly, flitting his eyes away from the couple before abruptly turning to rejoin the ongoing conversation to his right.

Logan and Parker shared a sad glance, but decided it was better to leave the boy be. Paul probably wasn’t the only one who needed space.

“So,” Arthur’s voice rang out, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ve got Wednesday off, what say you all we hang at my place tomorrow night.”

“OMG! Sleepover!” Jack shrieked in a high pitched voice, eliciting a few snorts from the kids surrounding him.

“Shut up, Doofus,” Arthur shouted at him playfully.

“That’s not my name, Lecdumbass,” the other boy snapped back, overdramatically rolling his eyes in jest.

“Anyways…” Arthur hollered over his friends’ audible amusement, attempting to gather their attention again. “Is everybody in? You too, Guanyu,” he clarified, to which the meek boy simply nodded, much to the others’ delight. “Awesome!”

As everyone else agreed to the plan, Jack interrupted once again. “Can’t. My parents have been totally freaking out over all this shit. You know how they are. So, unfortunately, the only party I will be attending is Doohan family game night hosted at 15 Fairview Road. Sorry, gang.”

“Well, hope you have fun playing Scrabble with Mummy tonight,” Liam teased.

“Yeah,” Dennis joined in sarcastically, “maybe if you’re lucky she’ll let you have a scoop of chocolate ice cream too. With sprinkles!”

“Alright, fuck you all, I’m out of here,” Jack countered, beginning to gather his things in perfect unison with the end-of-lunch bell.

“Bye-bye, Doofenshmirtz!” Parker called to the boy’s back.

“See ya when Mama Doohan lets you out of your cage again,” her boyfriend added with a big grin, made even wider when Jack simply flipped them off as he continued walking away.

Dennis had worked his ass off all summer. He wanted that spot on the team and he wanted it bad. So, in the month leading up to tryouts, he had to keep up his training. And if Coach saw how dedicated he was maybe that would benefit him too.

After another grueling workout under the hot September sun, Dennis made his way back to the empty locker room. He could smell, see, feel, and taste the sweat on his body, making him strip off his soaked through shirt before the door had even fully closed behind him. He needed a shower ASAP.

All of a sudden, he felt the air knocked out of his lungs as his back hit the ground, letting out a strident wheeze. He laid there for a moment, groaning in pain and sweating even harder than before. Wait, no. That wasn’t sweat…

The boy wearily lifted his head off the ground, still recovering from the harsh impact of his fall, only to see the entire floor of the room flooded.

“What the fuck?” he sighed out with the little breath he was able to collect.

He slowly lifted himself back to his feet, ignoring his spinning head, until he looked down at where he had been only to be greeted by a river of pink floating in the shallow water. He reached his fingers to softly touch the back of his throbbing head and was immediately met with an intense pain and sticky, red blood covering his hand.

The boy sluggishly stumbled forward toward the sinks in order to better assess the situation and clean his open wound. The only sounds he could make out were his laboured breaths and the splashes of his feet meeting the puddles beneath him. Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash. Splish. He paused for a moment as the world spun around him.

Splash.

But the sound of that extra step behind him didn’t register in time for him to save himself.

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[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Mashirao Ojiro x Reader - Shakespeare

Summary: While sharing your reading assignment for homework, you and Ojiro find yourself accidentally confessing to one another.

Warnings: fluff, tooth-rotting sweetness, mentions of dying for one another, colored parts are quotes, old English

"What did you get for number three?" Ojiro asked, tapping his pen against his jaw, sitting cross-legged at the foot of your bed.

"Thirty-six," you answered absentmindedly, not bothering to look up as you scribbled on the page you were working on.

"No way that's right," he replied, tail flicking in annoyance behind him. "How'd you get that?"

"I can assure you, it's right." you snicker as he looked over to your paper.

"You're not even showing your work," he chided, snatching it from you.

"Mental math is a hell of a thing," you insisted, reaching for it back, failing miserably. "Now give me my paper, you cheater!"

Ojiro deadpanned, holding the page above his head. "Not even Yomomo can do calculus in her head, dummy. I know you sure as hell can't."

"Are you calling me dumb, monkey boy?" You laughed, feigning offense.

"Yes," he answered without skipping a beat, tail snatching a small device from behind you. "Stop using your calculator, you'll never learn right. And you called me a cheater."

You blushed and reached out, falling against him as you reached past his shoulder to get the calculator back from his swishing tail. "C'mon, Oji, give it back!"

He simply chuckled at you wholeheartedly, shaking his head. "You might get the right answer now but you know you'll get points deducted for not showing your process," he rationalize, pushing you away by your shoulders, holding you at arm's length with a sympathetic smile. "Plus if you don't know how to solve the problems on your own, you're gonna fail all your tests."

"I hate you, you know that?" you grumbled, giving up slumping against him.

"No, you just hate when I'm right." he snickered, patting your back. "Which is all the time."

"Shut up..." you muttered into his shoulder, hiding your face. From the outside looking in, one might think you two were cuddling but that couldn't be further from the truth. You and Ojiro were just close friends- best friends even. Best friends could have moments like these. You could hide your face in his chest and he could wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer, whispering encouragement in your ear, and it isn't weird. Right? Surely not.

"C'mon you're smart, math just isn't your thing..." he soothed, rubbing your back gently. "You're just right-brained, that's all. Let's work on something else, yeah? We'll come back to this later. You'll be able to focus better after a break." You nodded against him, your fringe tussled against his shirt as you began to pull away, peering up at him. Heat rose to your cheeks, finding him already staring back with the kindest smile. Ojiro also blushed, gaze quickly shifting away as he cleared his throat. "H-How about we knock out that reading assignment?" he suggested sheepishly, shifting away from you to grab his bag.

"I forgot about that..." you muttered, doing the same. "Man, I don't wanna read a whole act in one night! Mic's officially lost the plot." He was relieved to hear you begin to rant about the unfair amount of homework you'd been given.

"It's not gonna be so bad, we already read act one in class, we just have to read act two now." He said, shaking his head at your theatrics. "We can take turns."

"Or we can just look up what happens online," you smirked mischievously. He gave you a stern look, and you relented. "Oh, fine!"

"You can't cheat your way through everything," he sighed, cracking open the paperback. "I'll be Romeo and you can be Juliet, 'kay?"

You nodded, cheeks dusted pink as you did the same.

-----

Ojiro read the both of you in, playing the part of not only Romeo, but Mecrucio and Benvolio as well, voice dipping and raising to distinguish between each role. Finally, scene one concluded, and it was time to being the second, which you had been dreading the entire time.

"He jests at scars that never felt a wound." He said, dramatically placing his hand over his heart before motioning to you as your character enters. "But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, oh, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!"

"Ay, me!" You read, a bashfully glow in your cheeks at his words, however rehersed they had been.

"She speaks: Oh, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being over my head as is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air."

You bit your cheek, cringing at your next line, feeling it tacky to speak aloud. "Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

This time, Ojiro found himself a tad flustered as you begged him to promise himself to you by whatever means necessary. Swallowing, he shook away the thought, realizing how ridiculous it was to put stock into a quote not meant for him specifically. "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" He asked himself rhetorically before his eyes shifted up to you, indicating that it was your turn.

Taking a deep breath, seeing how long the next paragraph was oyu braced yourself. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is not hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself."

'A rose by any other name..." He repeated to himself, unable to keep his tail from swishing happily. maybe if a rose by any other name would still sell as sweet, he could still be worth your time despite being who he was. "I take thee at thy word." He replied, more to you than as a reading from a script. "Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Romeo."

"What man art thou that thus bescreened in night so stumblest on my counsel?" You asked, nose in your book, trying to make out understanding from the thick Old English writing, oblivious to how he had begun to take your words to heart.

"By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee; had I it written, I would tear the word." Ojiro recited eyes occasionally flickering up to yours for the off chance you might meet him halfway. Still, you remained focused in the writings of the ancient writer, blissfully unaware. He should have been happy to see oyu so engrossed, given your proclivity for taking the easy route but he began to feel almost ignored to an extent. Like he meant the words and you didn't.

"My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: art thou not Romeo and a Montague?" You ponder, the gears in your mind turning as you consider the words and their meanings.

"Neither, fair saint," He answered, almost curtly. "If either thee dislike."

Ojiro's short tone caught your attention, prompting you to glance up in surprise, beginning the line without reading the words. "How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?" Not remembering the rest, your eyes flicker down to your textbook before trekking back up to his. "The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here."

"With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; for stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do that dares love attempt; therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me." He replied, brows furrowed slightly into the look he always had when giving something this whole attention, voice dripping with conviction.

"If they do see thee, they will murder thee." You said, eyeing him cautiously, confused as to what had him frustrated. "Ojiro, is everything okay?" you finally asked, breaking character.

"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He recited, still obviously on edge, simply nodding to your question.

"I would not for the world they saw thee here." You respond, a bit taken back by his lack of reaction to your concerns.

"I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;" His eyes suddenly softened and his stare fell away from yours and settled in his book on the blank space between the words and his lap. "And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Suddenly your heart dropped at the melancholy in his gaze. He didn't...mean what he was saying, did he? Of course not, you decided. That'd be silly. "By whose direction found'st thou out this place?"

"By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; he lent me counsel and I lent him eyes." He said quietly, almost timidly, his tail wrapping around your bedpost, as if to anchor himself to it. "I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far as that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise."

Something about the line made butterflies soar in your stomach, even though you knew they weren't for you. Maybe it was the nervous but steadfast look in his eye or the way his Adam's Apple bobbed with an unsure swallow. Whatever the cause, you couldn't unstick yourself from the notion of him searching the furthest reaches of the Earth to find your affection. Darting your tongue out, you wet you lips with a shaky breath, scanning over the gushy paragraph ahead.

"Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek for that which thou hast heard me speak to-night fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny what I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'-" You read, eyes glued to the written page as you coninued.

"Aye," he blurted, interrupting, making your blood run cold. Your gaze scrambled about the page, mind trying to get ahead of your heart before jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was somehow on the wrong page, that had to be it!

"O-Ojiro..." You breathed shakily, trembling hands flipping back and forth between this page and the next. "I-It wasn't your turn yet." You gently informed him, settling back on the right page. "A-And that isn't your next line..."

He looked as if he were about to explain, lips parted before he grunted, shaking his head with a fake, sheepish grin. "S-Sorry, must've lost track...continue."

You eyed him cautiously, swallowing hard, still reeling from what you thought could have been a confession. "And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries then say, Jove laughs. Oh gentle Romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, so thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, and therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, but that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true love's passion: therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discovered."

"Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-" He muttered softly, unable to keep eye contact with you, onyx eyes simply flickering back and forth between yours and the bed sheets.

"Oh, swear not by the moon," You interrupt, delivering the line with a bit more feeling than you'd intended. You sheepishly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you continued. "The inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

Your change in demeanor seemed to have captured his attention, to your relief, as he glanced back up at you. "W-What shall I swear by?" He asked, swallowing a hard lump of nerves, eyeing you shyly.

"Do not swear at all..." you answer earnestly, leaning closer almost to an unnoticeable degree, but he caught it. You couldn't have possibly made a move he didn't see with how he stared at you. "Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

Ojiro could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as you lamented to him, leaning in when you thought he wouldn't realize. He scanned the page, frantically trying to keep up with the plot. "If my heart's dear love-"

You interrupted him again, inching closer, lost in the moment. "Well, do not swear," you beg, eyes shifting up to him as soon as you'd memorized the next few words before dipping back down. "Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet." The words dramatically rip from your throat almost as if a warning- one that foretold that if this didn't stop immediately, if he didn't leave, things wouldn't ever be the same between you. "Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!"

"Oh, wilt thou," he paused, shifting nervously, obviously not heeding your warning. "Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?"

"Not you, never," you confessed at long last, gazing at him longingly as the red that dusted his cheeks crawled up to the tips of his ears.

"(Y/N)..." he gulp, eyes never leaving yours, save for once to memorize what your next line should have been. "Y-Your line is-"

"What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?" you finish for him, leaning in infinitely closer, so much so, he can begin to faintly feel your breath fan his face, and your legs have shifted so you're sitting on your knees instead of cross-legged.

"(Y-Y/N)..." he shuttered, lips instinctually parting as his trembling hands found your forearms, thumbs caressing your skin gently. His tail wagged excitedly behind him, despite his attempts to steady it.

"Say the line, Ojiro." You dismiss, lashes batting at him.

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine..." He managed to choke out shakily.

"I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again." You confess, still shifting closer, lips ghosting over his as your eyes flutter shut, knowing your last line is already done. "Read it, Ojiro," You command again, relishing in the anxiety on his face as he tore his gaze from yours and read the words aloud as your hands cupped his cheeks.

"Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?" He asked honestly, bottom lip quivering as your top one brushed against it.

"Never for any reason," you let go of a captive breath, finally crashing your lips to his in an inexperienced but needy kiss. His hands which once weightlessly sat on your forearms now gripped your wrists, anchoring them to his face, almost as if letting go would convince you to take your touch away.

You settled further into his lap, in an almost identical position to earlier, only this time the meaning behind the embrace was clear to both of you instead of just the outside world. Kneading his lips against yours, his fingers slid down your wrists and traced your jaw until they felt your throat, cradling your head, absentmindedly toying with the hair that rested near your ear. "I've waited forever for this..." he admitted in between kissed. "Woulda waited a million years just to kiss you if I had to."

"If you'd asked, you wouldn't have had to wait a day," You replied, pulling away and peppering kisses across his face. " I would have kissed you as a hello if I'd know I could..."

"I'm glad we waited," he confessed, sighing blissfully as you showered him in affection, pulling you infinitely closer by your waist. "Time makes the heart grow fonder, or however the saying goes."

You giggled at his dopey grin, pecking his nose, arms snaked around his neck, toying with his hair. "Absence." You correct, shaking your head at his mistake. "The phrase is 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'."

"Time I didn't get to spend in your arms might as well have been absence." He mused, leaning up, nudging his nose against yours before ghosting his lips over your own. "Let's make up for lost time, yeah?"

[theroguescientist]

Polish scientist watches Orb: Episode 6

So in this episode we're introduced to Badeni, a somewhat unusual monk. Like, I kept wondering why he chose to be a monk, when he clearly does not have the humility for it. I guess it's a way for a sufficiently intellectual troublemaker to get some education and maybe gain access to some information that is off limits to other people.

"Will these documents dramatically change my life" Yeah, probably. And to most people this would be a threat, but to this guy it's a promise.

So that "abbey" he used to be at was some kind of research institution… which didn't want him to so so much research? Okay, that's weird and I fully understand his frustration with it.

But, yeah, I also understand his superiors' frustration with his arrogance. He doesn't want to just do what he's told. He thinks he's better than others and in some ways he might actually be. A guy like this doesn't belong in a monastery, but they don't wanna risk letting him out either.

And he wants to discover something great. A relatable motivation, tbh :P And he's arrogant and reckless about it. Seems like the right man for the job.

Oooh! The church has a library of forbidden writings! Makes sense that they would read a text first before banning it, but still it's interesting that such a library exists. Right here, at this abbey, huh?

Why is that book just lying there? Someone could easily break in and steal it!

Aaand he broke in and tried to steal it.

Wait, it this that guy's office? It's a trap, isn't it?

Yep. Of course it's a trap.

Great. We've got another genius who is also kinda dumb. Looking forward to watching him work with the overly cautious uneducated peasant :)

Observe Mars. It's easy. The instructions are in the diary. And poor Oczy can't read much and is afraid to look at the sky. Not that this would occur to someone like Badeni.

This is a very real phenomenon. People who know a lot about a certain topic tend to expect others to know something about it even when there's no reason to expect that. I actually know a math professor who used to be really annoyed at the fact that his students didn't even know calculus. What was he supposed to be teaching them, you ask? Calculus! They don't know it because you haven't taught them yet, dummy!

Anyway, Oczy did it! He looked at the sky! And it stared back at him, but he did it. Because if he doesn't, what did they die for? The only people he's ever met whose deaths seemed meaningful?

Badeni gives a whole lecture about Aristotle and Ptolemy… to a guy who's never heard of them. It's okay, Oczy. This is exactly how I felt at my first quantum physics conference. At my second, I presented some new research. Being utterly confused might actually be a necessary step towards understanding something new.

Anyway, yeah, this is going to be a fun dynamic.

Heaven and Earth are one. Yeah, isn't that a beautiful thought? This show can really make things we take for granted today seem amazing. Heaven and Earth are one. That means the Earth is not special. But it also means it's a part of that beautiful universe. A planet in another world's sky.

And these medieval peasants will never see it. And I will only ever see it in pictures where it's just another little dot in the sky and you need some astronomical knowledge to even recognize it without someone pointing it out. Really, the thought of it is more beautiful than the image itself. There are worlds in the sky, and you live in their skies.

Also, Oczy looking up at the sky just like that without freaking out. You're doing great, buddy. Keep going.

[lovebirdgames]

MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS! This year I participated in indie VN dev Secret Santa. My giftee was Rice!! I checked out all their awesome free games on Itch and my favorite one was Wake Me Up If You Need Me because I love a cute lil romance. <3 In it you play as a psychopath who calls up this poor guy at 2am every night—nah it’s actually very sweet, I just felt bad keeping the poor boy awake!

Anyways I’m not the best artist, but wanted to draw a little something to go with what I wrote (see below the cut). Since MC doesn’t have an appearance, I got to be a little creative. Enjoy and be sure to check out Rice's games! @rice373, I hope you like it and have a wonderful holiday season!! <3

“Merry Christmas, Karu! Of course I wouldn’t forget you!” I happily dangle the catnip mouse a couple inches over the fluffy white cat’s head. His tail flicks with excitement and his pupils grow huge. I laugh as he expertly snatches it away with one swipe of his paw. “He likes it!”

“He really likes it,” Reed agrees as Karu flops over and begins bunny-kicking the poor mouse.

“Okay! My turn to open another present! Please don’t let this one be another calculus book…” I cast some side-eye on the Calculus for Dummies book I tossed onto my pile. “You’re not allowed to make me do math on Christmas, Reed!”

Reed rolls his eyes and rubs at the forever-present dark circles under them. “Trust me, that book will be the gift that keeps on giving. For both of us.” 

“Yeah, okay,” I snort as I tear the candy cane-colored wrapping paper off my next present, harboring zero intention of cracking that book open. 

“And with my phone being broken, you need something to fall back on.”

I nod along, keeping a smooth expression. Calling him in the middle of the night is much more fun than being forced to read a calculus book. Hearing his voice and giving him a hard time is like a little reward for my suffering. 

The sight of my next gift makes me gasp. “An owl onesie?!”

“For my favorite night owl,” Reed chuckles, pink tinging his cheeks. 

I immediately put it on. “It’s so comfy cozy! I’m never gonna take it off!”

“That might earn you several strange looks when you go to class.”

“Okay, I can’t take the suspense anymore…time for you to open your present!” I pull a neatly-wrapped gift from the pile and offer it with both hands. He smiles and goes to accept, but I suddenly feel self-conscious. “I’m sorry I only got you the one present! I used up all my savings. And I know you said not to go too crazy, but I couldn’t stop myself…”

Instead of recklessly tearing through to the present as I do, Reed carefully unsticks each piece of tape and gently unwraps the paper, as if to preserve it. When he sees the gift I got him, his jaw drops.

“I…you…you got me a phone?!”

“Do you like it?”

“This is too much! The new models are so expensive!”

I giggle at his beaming face. “It’s a present to me, too, so I can go back to calling you every night!”

“You really shouldn’t have.” He tries to inject some sarcasm into his voice, but he’s far too overjoyed to pull it off. In awe, he opens up the new phone to marvel at it. “Wow. My old phone was…”

“Ancient.”

“Yeah. This is amazing! Thank you so much.”

Reed wraps me in a hug. I sigh, enjoying his warmth. “Merry Christmas, Reed.”

“Merry Christmas. Your number will be the first one I add.”

I laugh, full of glee.

While Reed plays around with his new phone, I attempt to clean up the tornado of wrapping paper I created. Karu is having a blast hiding and shooting through it, easily distracting me. In the end, I wind up constructing a huge wrapping paper mountain for her to play in.

“Hmm…” Reed murmurs as he explores his new phone. “Since this phone is way newer than my old one, it should have a lot of new features and updates…”

“Yup!” I lean over his shoulder to see the screen and point stuff out. “The camera on this phone is sooo much better. Look, look, you can take a picture of Karu and turn her into a sticker!"

“There’s one cool feature I’ve been meaning to try…”

“Oh?”

I watch eagerly as he opens up the settings…clicks on a tiny purple moon icon…and turns on “Do Not Disturb” mode.

~The End

[butchboylemons]

She took AP calculus and reads Russian literature and knows how to code and bake bread meanwhile I’m like dummy dumb gym bro frat party boy

[hylianengineer]

I saw another post debating whether kids should have access to the adult secrion of the library (the answer is yes), and in response I present this list of 'adult' books I took a random interest in at the age of twelve or thirteen

Physics for dummies

String theory for dummies

Quantum physics for dummies

Calculus for dummies (because there was calc in the quantum physics book)

Trigonometry for dummies (because I needed it as background info for the calculus)

Parents beware: given unrestricted library access, your child may attempt to learn calculus as a result of a special interest in theoretical physics - or chase some other special interest into the depths of the grown-up nonfiction section. I did not actually understand the calculus, or the trig either, and eventually got bored and gave up, but I did have fun with it for a while. And when I got to the point of being able to take classes in physics, trig, and calc, I wasn't scared of them.

[tearsinthemist]

Want to learn something new

Want to learn something new in 2022??

Absolute beginner adult ballet series (fabulous beginning teacher)

40 piano lessons for beginners (some of the best explanations for piano I’ve ever seen)

Excellent basic crochet video series

Basic knitting (probably the best how to knit video out there)

Pre-Free Figure Skate Levels A-D guides and practice activities (each video builds up with exercises to the actual moves!)

How to draw character faces video (very funny, surprisingly instructive?)

Another drawing character faces video

Literally my favorite art pose hack

Tutorial of how to make a whole ass Stardew Valley esque farming game in Gamemaker Studios 2??

Introduction to flying small aircrafts

French/Dutch/Fishtail braiding

Playing the guitar for beginners (well paced and excellent instructor)

Playing the violin for beginners (really good practical tips mixed in)

Color theory in digital art (not of the children’s hospital variety)

Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:

Calculus 1 (full semester class)

Learn basic statistics (free textbook)

Introduction to college physics (free textbook)

Introduction to accounting (free textbook)

Learn a language:

Ancient Greek

Latin

Spanish

German

Japanese (grammar guide) (for dummies)

French

Russian (pretty good cyrillic guide!)

Jan 2, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2023??

Cooking with flavor bootcamp (used what I learned in this a LOT this year)

Beekeeping 101

Learn Interior Design from the British Academy of Interior Design (free to audit course - just choose the free option when you register)

Video on learning to read music that actually helped me??

How to use and sew with a sewing machine

How to ride a bike (listen. some of us never learned, and that's okay.)

How to cornrow-braid hair (I have it on good authority that this video is a godsend for doing your baby niece's black hair)

Making mead at home (I actually did this last summer and it was SO good)

How to garden

Basics of snowboarding (proceed with caution)

How to draw for people who (think they) suck at art (I know this website looks like a 2003 monstrosity, but the tutorials are excellent)

Pixel art for beginners so you can make the next great indie game

Go (back) to school

Introduction to Astronomy (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Principals of Economics (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Introduction to philosophy (free college course)

Computer science basics (full-semester Harvard course free online)

Learn a language

Japanese for Dummies (link fix from 2022)

Ukrainian

Portuguese (Brazil)

American Sign Language (as somebody who works with Deaf people professionally, I also strongly advise you to read up on Deaf/HoH culture and history!)

Chinese (Mandarin, Simplified)

Quenya (LOTR fantasy elf language)

Dec 26, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2024??

Beginner-oriented video on how to sail

This guy has so many videos on baking different types of bread. SO very many.

Coding in Python - one of the most flexible and adaptable high-level programming languages out there - explained through projects making video games

Learn to swim! (for adult learners. I don’t care if you live in Kansas or Mali or wherever. LEARN TO SWIM.)

Learn how quantum mechanics works. Then read some more about it

[Learn about quantum mechanics again, but in a more advanced engineering/mathematics class. Then read more about the math and physics of it]

Poetry Handbook, by Mary Oliver

Something I learned this year: how to sew a quilt (Here’s a very easy beginning pattern that looks amazing and can be done with pre-cut fabric!)

How to hit the ball in softball

Tutorial video on what is under the hood of most (gas) cars + weird engine sounds and what they mean

Full beginner mechanics technical training, if you want to go more in depth

Playlist on how car engine physics work if you want to go ultra in depth

Lecture series on architecture design through study of buildings

How (American income) taxes & tax law work (choose “audit course” at checkout for free class)

Pickleball for beginners (so you can finally join your neighbor/friend/distant cousin who is always insisting you join their team)

+ Para-Pickleball for beginners (for mobility aid users!)

School is so much more fun when there’s no tests:

American Law - Contracts

Shakespeare’s Life and Plays

Fairy Tales: Meanings, Messages, and Morals

Modern Poetry

World History [Part 1, Part 2]

Learn a language:

Arabic + Resource Guide compiled from Reddit (includes info on different dialects)

Chinese (Cantonese) (audio)

Urdu (frequently recommended course on Reddit) + Resource Guide

Yucatec Maya

[lizbethborden]

Hater of literature, reading, and the English language has blocked me and made several ranty posts, not replying to me at all. Still has not told me where and how one uses calculus in their day-to-day life despite saying "we live in a calculus-based society, dummy."

[loser-female]

That article resonated with me. I'm starting out an engineering degree and I noticed something.

In my calculus class there were more men than women, but almost all the women were getting good grades and participating. Meanwhile, with the men it was more varied, there were men who were good, others who were average and others who were bad at it.

It seemed obvious to me that only the women who were already good at math in high school decided to go to engineering, meanwhile the men picked engineering regardless if they were "the best" at math, they did it because they wanted to and they were fine with learning as they go.

I was talking with my uncle about this (he's an engineer too) and it's like the women won't even try if they think they'll be just average.

This is also reported by empirical data (divulgative article)

... And my own experience. Which is so detrimental because in order to succeed (especially in math) you need to fail and make mistakes.

Not being able to do something is a part of the process and the whole learning experience is about figuring how things work.

But girls (something reinforced also by parents and educators, often unconsciously) think that if it's not an A it's a failure, so they don't try.

Despite having an average of 8/10 in maths without opening a single book or ever doing my homework (!!) I was told to not study CS because I wasn't good enough. My dad insisted I did CS regardless but I didn't listen because I'm a dummy. Those idiots of my middle school teachers (in my country you have "specialised high schools", you don't have a general curriculum with some wiggle room like the US or UK) told me to study to be a nursing assistant 😂😂😂😂 if they told me to drop out would have been less offensive than pick something I've never expressed any interest in, I would completely hate (I can't stand touching people or being touched and I'm... Not the best in dealing with suffering)

Regardless, if a boy wasn't perfect it was ok, but if I wasn't it was a problem worthy of calling my parents and telling them I wasn't trying enough despite me still having passing grades. No wonder why I left school.

I was sabotaged at every stage until university. I'm having a better experience in my corporate company with 90% male colleagues and 100% male management than I had in school with female teachers. (I won't elaborate because I'll enter trauma dumping area, but still...)

[musubiki]

imagine walking into a little bookstore to pick up a cheap, used, calculus for dummies 3rd edition textbook so you can pass your class-- and lime goldwood, the most handsome man youve ever seen, just pops around the corner and goes “hey you looking for anything in particular?”