#trig integrals

[er-cryptid]

Trigonometry Integrals

∫ sin u du  =  -cos u + C

∫ cos u du  =  sin u + C

∫ tan u du  =  -ln |cos u| + C

∫ cot u du  =  ln |sin u| + C

∫ sec u du  =  ln |sec u + tan u| + C

∫ csc u du  =  -ln |csc u + cot u| + C

∫ sec^2 u du  =  tan u + C

∫ csc^2 u du  =  -cot u + C

∫ sec u tan u du  =  sec u + C

∫ csc u cot u du  =  -csc u + C

[watery-melon-baller]

soketimes im like ohhhhhh I love trig trig is sooo great she's my best friend and then other times I want to fucking slaughter her

[lovelornthorns]

doing calc homework and all i can think about is grinding jades to get e1 the herta

[ithacanradio]

studying update 😔

[lord-shitbox]

Ohhhh my godddd. ironically between calculus 3 & linear algebra I'm struggling with linear algebra more, NOT because it's really hard—it isn't, it's exactly as easy as the name suggests—but bc it's the type of easy basic stuff that leads to a lot of the tiny errors, like writing -4 instead of 4 or fucking up 3- -2, which then fucks over your whole problem. Like, adding and scaling rows of numbers is really easy to do, BUT ALSO really easy to fuck up without noticing, and therefore frustrates the shit out of me. it's EASY so I shouldn't be getting it WRONG

[eccentric-objects]

trig in calc is the worst but functions in physics is a godsend

[boycritter]

i mean fuck i like calc i like math i like power rule i like chain rule i like u-sub i like deriving and taking lims and integrals, i like doing integral shit, trig sub it, probably would! i mean what can i say, this shit works, it feels good, and my gpas at an all time high

[faggottonystark]

this guy doesnt even know what trig sub integrals will do to him yet. i want to fuck the integral sign sorry who said that

Guys Riemann sums are so fun who knew this. i fucking love math

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (part 2)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine (part 1)

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Y/n’s apartment is filled with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Maddie has a bunch of people over – not really a party, but a fairly large gathering. A few of her school friends, a couple of her co-workers…. nobody that y/n is really close with, though. 

That’s why she locked herself in her room, away from the music and the stuffy, smoke-filled air. She said her polite hello and everything, of course! But… she just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Maddie’s friends. They weren’t really y/n’s type of people, and the smell of weed is giving her a terrible headache. 

She bunches up her hair in her fists as she stares at the math problem in front of her. She had been able to do integrals just fine with Harry, but when you add trig into the equation? She’s thoroughly fucked. Not even The Organic Chemistry Tutor could help her work through this problem. 

A knock on her door makes her jump. “Come in,” she says politely, though her brows are still furrowed grumpily as she stares at the calculus in front of her. 

“S’this room taken?” a deep voice murmurs. 

She whips her head around, heart fluttering excitedly in her chest. “Harry,” she says softly. “What are you doing here?”

“Maddie invited Blake,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “And Blake invited me.” 

Oh. She should’ve known. 

She rolls away from her desk and faces Harry, who’s making himself more than comfortable on her bed, laying down with his head on her pillow. “Smells like shit out there,” he grunts. 

“Yeah,” she shrugs. She’s accepted that her apartment will always reek of weed, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of the smell. “Did you smoke anything with them?” she asks. 

“No, not in the mood.” Honestly, the only reason he decided to come over with Blake was because he knew that he’d be able to go chill in y/n’s room. Hanging out in Maddie’s smelly apartment was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday night, but… he knew y/n would be there, sitting quietly in her room like the good girl she is. “Did you?”

“No.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I– I don’t smoke.”

He snorts. “You don’t smoke but you live with Maddie?” Maddie cannot survive two seconds without her vape. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

“The smell of it gives me a headache,” she tries to explain. 

“Your apartment literally always smells like weed,” he deadpans. 

She blinks. “Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “If I close my door though the smell isn’t that bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asks, pointing to the textbook sitting on her desk.

“Um– math.” His lips quirk up, while she pouts. “S’not making sense again.”

“Lemme see,” he says, sitting up. She looks at him for a second, not moving, but when he nods towards her ipad again she scrambles to pick it up and sit next to him on the bed. 

“So, what were you going to try and do?” he asks, grabbing her pen. She’s hyper aware of how their thighs are touching, how she can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Um… I feel like I need to use one of the trig rules here but I can’t think of any that would do anything here.” 

“Okay you’re right… the issue is that none of your sins or cosins fit any of the rules. But you can break cos^3x down into cos^2x times cosx, right?” 

“Okay…” she looks up at him like a lost puppy, still not fully getting it. 

“Do you have any trig identities with cos^2x?”

“Um…” she shuffles through her notes, “ cos^2x equals 1 minus sin^2x?”

He nods his head, “yeah. So now that everything is in terms of sin, you can do a u-sub.”

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?” 

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look, but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going. 

He was nice to her once, helped her with her math homework and comforted her when she cried, and now her heart flutters like crazy when she sees him. Just the smallest rise of Harry’s shirt has her spiraling. 

She can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge subtly as he puts his hands behind his head, and finds herself overwhelmed with the fact that this boy – an attractive boy – was just laying in her bed casually.

She knows it’s no big deal for Harry, he’s probably just in here because the living room stinks and he needs to clear his head. But for her, it’s a lot. She never has boys in her room, has never had a romantic interaction with a boy. Hasn’t even been kissed. It’s always just very friendly – getting notes from a guy in her class, joking around with some of Maddie’s friends. She’s never had a boy talk to her any more than that. 

Harry, though… Harry comes into her room and talks to her even when there’s a whole party going on outside. He kept her company when she was stranded at his apartment, he took her home and took care of her when she was drunk and emotional. It probably meant nothing to him, but the way he grabbed her ankle and told her to lie down when he was helping her into bed was one of the most tender things she’s ever experienced. He put his hand on her waist, and held her arm while she stumbled, he’d guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her waist. 

And when he saw her crying at the library, he came over and talked to her. Comforted her and let her rant about her classes. He’d let her into his room and helped her with her homework, murmured soft praises to her when she got a question right, his arm brushing against hers, or his chest rubbing against her shoulder. 

The stupidest little things, that are probably so insignificant for him, have been on her mind for days.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She bites her lip nervously, and her heart stops when Harry’s eyes flicker down to watch. He stares at her with a strange look in his eye… a glimmer in them that she’s only ever read about in books. His eyebrows furrow as though he’s deep in thought, eyes still glued to her lips. 

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in. 

She thought she was being silly for starting to feel things for him – that she was just being classic y/n, crushing on a guy even though she knows she’s too shy to ever make a move. Now, with how close he is, she can see every freckle on his tan skin, every lash that frames his bright green eyes. She breathes with a tight chest, swallowing thickly as her eyes flicker between his, wide and curious. His eyes still haven’t left her lips.

Her heart stutters as his large hand makes its way to her thigh, his palm warm and smooth, gently grazing her skin. He unconsciously inches closer and closer, incapable of pulling his eyes away from her mouth. 

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and finally looks her in the eye. His irises have turned a dark green, pupils dilated, and his breathing has deepened. She has no idea what’s going on in his head, but he looks serious. Deep in thought. His hand still rests on her thigh, the contact sending sparks of electricity all over her body, especially when his fingers gently start to trail upwards. 

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to take deep, calm breaths, but he’s gotten so close that she can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, inhaling his every exhale. It makes her lightheaded. He’s so close… so, so close…

A loud pounding on the door makes y/n jump away from him. 

Her eyes are blown out when she jerks them open, her heart pounding harshly with anticipation that’s been left unsatisfied. “Who is it?” she calls out with a shaky voice. 

Harry hasn’t moved an inch. He sits there and stares at her, hand still on her thigh. 

“Is Harry in there?” Maddie yells. “Blake is ready to go.”

He brings a hand up and tugs on her bottom lip with his thumb, then watches it bounce back into place, hypnotizing himself with the sight. Y/n, unable to get any words out, sits there and watches him as he stares at her lips.

“Hellooo?” Maddie obnoxiously yells again.

Harry’s nose flares and he shuts his eyes, frustratedly pulling himself away from y/n. She says nothing, still in a daze, watching as he leaves her bed. He stands and runs a hair through his messy curls, before heading towards the door and opening it. Maddie stands in front of the door with her fist raised, ready to knock on the door again. 

“Calm down,” he says, eyeing her coldly. Maddie rolls her eyes and walks away to tell Blake that she found Harry.

He turns around for a moment and glances at y/n. “See ya,” he says. 

She blinks, her hand coming up to touch her lips, searching for some confirmation that this was real and she hadn’t imagined it. “Bye,” she nearly whispers, breathless. 

The door shuts with a click and she finds herself alone with her thoughts. Her math homework sits abandoned on her bed, and will probably remain untouched for the rest of the night.

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Finally, y/n has Harry all to herself.

She’d been dancing around him all night, constantly catching his eye from across the room in a game of cat and mouse. He watched her from the corner of the room he was stationed in with his dark eyes, a teasing smirk on his face. He knew what she was doing – trying to distract him. It was working. 

He watched her as she mingled and talked, watched as she sipped on her drink, watched as she weaved her way through the passes of people in her apartment, pushing past the hot bodies and sweaty skin until she disappeared in her room. 

He followed her in, less than a minute later.

She hears him walk into the room, the sound of him turning the lock and his heavy footsteps approaching her. A shiver runs down her spine when his hands grab her shoulders from behind, goosebumps rising on her arms almost instantaneously. His firm front pushes against her back, toned stomach pressed against the curve of spine. 

His fingers are warm and gentle on her shoulders, comforting yet teasing at the same time. He doesn’t hold her firmly – his featherlight touch more tantalizing than any other form of contact. These light, delicate brushes of his skin keep her on her toes, never knowing what to expect next. She holds her breath as his fingers travel from her shoulders, down the length of her arms. 

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her ear. She can’t help the soft, aroused breath that leaves her as his lips skim the shell of her ear. He chuckles, low and taunting, and she can feel the deep reverberations of his chest against her back.

“I’ve been waiting f’this,” he murmurs softly. His warm breath tickles her ear, sending waves of pleasure straight down to her core, and his hands have migrated from her arms to her hips now. He grips them, fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and pulls her back, grinding her into his front. She swallows a whimper down, eyes fluttering shut. A hard bulge presses against her ass, and she can’t resist the urge to press back on it, wriggle her hips even though Harry’s holding her still. “You’ve been teasing me…” he presses a kiss right underneath her earlobe. “Playing all innocent when I know you’re actually filthy.” Another kiss, and another kiss, trailing his lips down the curve of her neck.

She lets out a pathetic, shaky whimper, and it makes him chuckle tauntingly. “Your head is just filled with dirty thoughts, isn’t it?” Her knees go weak as he wraps a hand around her throat, tilting her head to the side so that he can look at her. “Bet you’re just dying for me to fuck you.” 

Her eyes are wide and round, and her entire body turns into jelly. The only reason she’s standing right now is because Harry’s holding her up. She can’t get any words out, pathetically wrapped around his finger. She looks up at him with a pleading gaze, begging him to do something… anything…

The sound of her 8 AM alarm yanks her straight out of dreamland.

Her eyes are bleary as she frantically looks around her bed, gathering her bearings. She has to triple check that Harry isn’t anywhere in her room – looking at every corner and patting around her sheets as well – before she can confirm that it was all a dream. 

Oh gosh. This is like the third time this week! 

She doesn’t mean to be having these dreams. It's a rather embarrassing situation for her and she honest to god would much rather just read a couple of steamy romance books about fictional vampires to get the horniness out of her system, instead of having repeated wet dreams about a very real Harry. 

They make her feel icky because, like– isn’t it a bit disrespectful to be having such dirty thoughts about someone who’s just been helping her with her math homework and potentially also kissing her had they not been interrupted? Like what are the boundaries there? You can’t really ask someone for consent to having wet dreams about them… but it’s not like she was consenting to those dreams either! She can’t control what her subconscious mind decides to stir up for her nightly dream! 

She tries to logic it out – how would she feel if Harry was having wet dreams about her? Well… actually the thought of it makes her a little bit excited, cos that would mean he likes her, right? Ugh, no, she’s getting distracted!

It’s all very typical horny virgin behavior. Ever since her almost kiss with Harry, her mind has been in shambles. Her first issue is trying to wrap her head around the entire thing – had Harry actually wanted to kiss her? She hadn’t made that up, right? 

She’s replayed the night a hundred times in her head. Remembers exactly how his hand felt on her thigh, how he’d stared at her lips, how their eyes had fluttered shut, how their noses brushed… all the things she’s read about in her books! All the ingredients for a first kiss! 

How tragic that it’d been interrupted. She thinks that’s why her brain has been overly active this past week – her subconscious has been trying to fulfill the insatisfaction she felt when she jumped away from Harry, just seconds before their lips touched. It feels like she’s been edged over and over again and been denied an orgasm five times – but the orgasm is her first kiss and she’s being edged by Maddie, who stole that kiss away by knocking on her door! 

She flops around in her bed frustratedly, smushing her face into her pillow with a sad groan. What if Harry doesn’t wanna kiss her the next time he sees her? What if this was a one time opportunity? She doesn’t want to sound desperate… but she really wanted to kiss Harry! She’d be really sad if it was just a whim of the moment kinda thing. 

But also… if it wasn’t just a one time thing… if he did actually want to kiss her… well how was she gonna end up in the situation to be kissed by him again? 

She’s thinking about this way too hard, way too early in the morning. And she’s uncomfortably wet from her dream.

She needs to get herself sorted out. 

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The chair in front of y/n screeches loudly as it’s pulled from under the table she’s sitting at. She jumps at the sound of it, having been too engrossed in her book to be aware of what’s going on around her. When she looks up, she finds Harry standing at her tiny table in the campus coffee shop.

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his jaw tight. He’s wearing a gray Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the words DAMN. written in bold font across the front, his curly hair messily hidden underneath. All the other tables in the shop were taken (it tends to get pretty busy at noonish when everyone needs somewhere to sit and study), and Harry needs somewhere to sit before his next lecture.

She nods, eyes wide like a baby sheep. It’s quite jarring to just randomly see the guy you’ve been having sexy dreams about – especially for someone like y/n who apparently can’t be normal about having a crush or having an almost first kiss. She hopes she’s acting normal enough to not raise any suspicion. 

Trying to not get distracted by his green eyes and pretty pink lips, y/n looks down at the table, but finds herself instead staring at Harry’s hands. He has nice hands, she thinks to herself. The cross tattoo on his left hand compliments his tan skin nicely, and he has these thick knuckles that she just wants to run her fingers over. In one of his hands he holds a coffee cup, and even though she and him both got a medium sized coffee, his drink looks smaller, dwarfed in his massive hands. His thumb is fingering the lid of his drink mindlessly, and she remembers how that same thumb had touched her lips just over a week ago… how he’d tugged on her bottom lip and hypnotized himself with the sight of it bouncing back into place. And while she’s on that train of thought, she can’t help but remember how his hands portrayed such a significant role in her dream last night. Hadn’t she imagined them being wrapped around her throat–?

Harry clears his throat. Y/n glows with heat. She has absolutely no capability of being normal around him. “Sorry, what?” She hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the past minute, too caught up in her own thoughts. 

He smirks. Is she always this distracted? “Just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah– good, I’m good,” she closes the book, folding the corner of the page she’s on as a bookmark. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Just got out of class. Needed a coffee.”

“What’d you get?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She can’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, “Ew.” 

 He quirks a brow, “Well what’d you get?” “Vanilla latte with oat milk.” Yeah. She would be an oat milk girl.

Considering their recent frequency in seeing each other and his newfound… fondness towards her, he doesn’t find it difficult to start picking and prodding at her, getting to know her. He realizes Blake was right – she wasn’t a super duper shy girl, she probably had just been scared of him. Once he started talking to her and smiling every once in a while, it seems like she loosened up. What used to be painfully awkward conversations have now become free flowing and casual.

He picks up the book she was reading and reads the cover. “Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Awfully fitting for you.”

She furrows her brow, already offended. She hates it when people make fun of her books – especially boys who make fun of her for reading romance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a book lover, aren’t you? Can never find you without your nose in a book.” 

She relaxes. “Oh… yeah,” a soft chuckle escapes her. “Yeah, I guess I’m a book lover.”

“You think I’d like this one?” he asks, flipping through the first few pages. 

“Um… maybe.” She can’t imagine Harry being a huge fan of her soft romance books. “Are you a reader?”

“God, no,” he puts the book down. “Not smart enough for that.”

Her jaw drops. “You are totally smart, Harry! Way smarter than me!” she exclaims.

“M’just good at math,” he shrugs, “You’re little miss smartie, with your color coded notes. Reading your books for fun.” 

She grows shy. Part of her thought that Harry thought she was stupid – not the over-emotional-girl-who-cries-too-much kind of stupid, but rather the kind of stupid that makes you wonder how she even got into this school because she’s doing so bad in math. 

It was a massive hit to her girlboss mentality when she had to ask Harry for help, and even though Harry never actually made her feel dumb when answering her questions… she just had this mean voice in the back of her head that constantly nagged her, convincing her that Harry thought she was a stupid girl who should just give up and drop out. And ignoring that voice is really hard, so…  it was just nice to hear that he didn’t think she was a stupid little baby. It made that mean voice in her head shut up. 

“Um… by the way. My next calc midterm is next Friday. I was wondering if, um…” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. 

He fills in the rest for her. “Do you want to revise together this weekend?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says bashfully. “Your tutoring is super helpful.” 

“You can come over on Saturday,” he sips on his coffee. “No trouble.”

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“Is this right?” Y/n shows her work to Harry, and he nods. They’re both on his bed, except Harry’s lying down with his head on a pillow, scrolling through tiktok, while y/n’s hunched over her ipad. She’s been doing practice problems for the past three hours, asking Harry for help every once in a while. That's how it’s been most of the night – her study session is mostly just him checking her work to make sure she’s not doing anything funky and giving her hints if she’s stuck. 

She’s studied a lot in the past two weeks and luckily doesn’t need Harry to be guiding her through every problem, which makes her really happy. And she’s only gotten a couple of the practice problems wrong! Some of them were particularly tricky and had her stumped, but that’s why she has Harry. He helped her out of roadblocks and kept her motivated. Without him here, she probably would’ve given up after the first question that she didn’t know how to solve.

“You should take a break,” he says.

She’d refused to take any breaks since she got here – determined to finish the practice test that her professor had posted while she had Harry next to her to help. Now that she finished all the problems, she locks her ipad and puts it on Harry’s bedside table. She leans back on one of Harry’s pillows and copies Harry, holding her phone above her face. Except instead of scrolling through tiktok, she opens up her kindle app and starts reading.

He sees the tiny font on her screen from the corner of his eye. “Reading?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she shuffles around on his bed, getting comfortable. 

He thinks it’s kind of cute that she’s always reading. “Is it the same one as last time? Book Lovers?”

“No, I finished that one yesterday! This is by the same author though. S’called Beach Read.”

“What’s it about?” he turns off his own phone and sits up, turning to look down at y/n. Her hair is splayed across his pillows, and her eyes glimmer softly in his bedroom lighting.

She feels a little shy describing one of her favorite books to Harry – she’s often been ridiculed by her friends for being so lovey dovey and reading her silly romance books. But he seemed genuine when he asked. “Um– there are these two writers. The girl writes romance and the guy writes like these serious fiction books. And they’re kinda rivals.” 

He hums. “Let me read a little bit,” he looks down at the screen of her phone. “I tightened my thighs around the sides of his body–” he reads aloud, before she yanks her phone out of his sight.

“No!” she yelps, turning her phone off and practically throwing it across the room. “You are not allowed to read it!” 

He laughs, a fully amused belly laugh, and the sound is beautiful but she doesn’t allow herself to revel in it due to her embarrassment. “What are you reading?” he giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” she hides her face in her hands. 

“Didn’t expect you to be reading such dirty stories,” he teases, “I thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s not all dirty!” she defends herself. “It’s– it’s sweet! It’s a love story… it’s romantic.” Her voice gets quiet near the end. 

Harry’s laughter bubbles down and he’s left with a smirk on his face, while y/n lays in front of him, an embarrassed pout on her face. “M’only teasing,” he says as he reaches a hand out to rest on her thigh, not wanting her to look so sad. “Read whatever you want. Seems like a cute book, maybe I should pick it up, hm?” 

Her mind goes a little blank when his hand meets her thigh, his palm warming her skin once more – just like that night he’d almost kissed her. “Y-yeah, you might like it,” she clears her throat. “S’one of my favorites.”

That same look glazes over Harry’s eyes – that dark look, as if he’s deep in thought. 

She swallows thickly. Could this be it? Her second chance at a kiss with Harry?

She pushes herself up on her elbows, more alert. Her palms feel sweaty and she finds her fingers nervously toying with his comforter. A million thoughts are racing in her head as she searches Harry’s eyes, flickering back and forth, trying to see what he might be thinking of. He’s so hard to read. She feels like she’s drowning in his eyes. 

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he leans forwards. She hopes she doesn’t look like an over-eager puppy, but her eyes light up and practically beg him to come closer, to just kiss her! He smiles to himself a bit, and obliges. 

With y/n laying on his bed, propped up by her elbows, and Harry already having been sat up on the bed, he doesn’t need to move that much closer for their faces to be aligned. He’s leaning over her, one hand holding him up, while the other hand comes up to her cheek.

She gasps when his large palm comes up to cup her face, his palm on her jaw and fingers sliding into her hair. He inches closer and closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushes against hers ever so lightly. She can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, breathing in each of his exhales as she tries to stay calm. She forces her eyes shut, her entire body alive with butterflies.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and nudges his nose against hers. She tilts her head to the side. He teases her for a second, gives her the chance to pull away by just grazing their lips together teasingly, and feels her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He can’t help but smirk against her lips.

With her eyes closed, she’s hyper aware of how it feels. The way his curls brush against her face… the warmth of his palm as he tilts her head upwards… the wetness of his lips as he finally… connects them… in a kiss. 

This was it. Her first kiss. 

There’s not one thought in her head, a stark contrast to how she’d spent countless sleepless nights overthinking the mechanics of kissing someone. She’d always worried that she’d mess it up, that she’d freeze and wouldn’t know what to do. 

But falling into the gentle caress of Harry’s lips is easy. Her nerves spill, her muscles relax, and she just lets herself melt against Harry’s lips. He suckles on her bottom lip gently, folds their lips together, pulls away with soft clicks just to reattach a second later. She sighs dreamily into his mouth and lets herself fall back into the bed, her head against his pillow. He doesn’t let their lips disconnect, following her down and climbing on top of her so that one of his legs is stationed between her thighs. 

She wonders if all kisses are this magnificent, or if it’s just Harry. Is it normal to feel your heart stuttering in your chest, or feel electricity flowing through your veins at just the touch of someone’s lips? Would she always lean her face into the palm of his hand, and let herself relax in the bliss of feeling his lips against hers?

It’s wonderful – a head-spinning, heart-fluttering, electrifying kiss. 

Harry’s hand that isn’t holding himself up comes down to rest on her thigh, goosebumps rising under his touch. His kisses start to grow more pressured, inhaling sharply and breathing heavily against her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips eagerly. His nose bends against her face as he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tastes the sweet chapstick on her lips. Her skin is warm and soft and plushy underneath his touch, and her lips are addictive. 

He uses his grip on her thigh to hike her leg up, fitting his hips between hers and sliding his hand up and down her leg tantalizingly. He can feel her losing her breath, so he forces himself off of her lips and starts kissing down her neck. He skims his lips down, presses wet, hot kisses on her throat, his every breath making her core clench. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and takes heavy breaths, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hands come up to grab onto him – just hold onto him in any way – and the first thing her hands land on are his biceps. His firm, toned biceps, that are flexing as he hovers above her. In an effort to feel more grounded, she squeezes her fingers, but it just ends up making her even more lightheaded because god he’s so strong and muscular and he’s kissing her right now! 

She’s overwhelmed and her head is spinning and it feels like she’s in a dream, an amazing dream that feels so good and that she never wants to end – she can smell his aftershave and his shampoo and his overall yummy boy smell, and her lips are tingling with the aftermath of his kiss. She’d always imagined what it would be like to have her neck kissed and sucked on by a boy and now that it’s happening it’s better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she’s so sensitive, and it’s just different to have a real person touching you and kissing you all over, especially someone that she’s majorly attracted to and–

Harry presses his hips into her center and, wow, if it isn't the most arousing thing she’s ever experienced. Excitement and anticipation fill her veins… but then a trickle of doubt starts to filter in. She’d only just had her first kiss, was she ready to go any further than that? 

‘H-Harry,” she says, but it’s more of a moan because his fingers squeeze her hips and he’s kissing right underneath her earlobe right now and it’s sending shivers down all over her body. “M-maybe we should stop.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from where he was buried in her neck, his eyes blown out and lips slicked with a mix of their spit. 

“I-I’m not ready to have sex with you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s okay,” he says, licking his lips. “I could just eat you out.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make her whimper. “I– no, I um…” she stammers over herself.

He smiles. “What is it?” he murmurs, an amused lilt to his voice.

“I… I haven’t done any of… that.” She swallows, looking at him nervously. Her heart, which had once been racing with excitement, now pounds with apprehension. This is the first time she’s been in this position and she’s feeling so vulnerable. 

It’s extremely scary and nerve-wracking and Harry’s silence is not doing anything to help her feel better.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks after a beat.

She nods. She feels insecure under his gaze, and even though she’s fully clothed, she feels totally exposed.

He laughs. “Are you really?” he asks again.

Her eyes flash with hurt. She just shared something extremely intimate with him, shared her very first kiss with him… and he was laughing at her?

She feels her heart drop, and her cheeks flame with insecurity. 

“Um–" she swallows around the lump developing in her throat. "I should go,” she says, barely over a whisper. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him and climbing out of his bed. Grabbing her ipad, she shoves it into her backpack, along with her notes that were scattered along his desk and her phone lying at the foot of his bed. Her cheeks burn hot and her heart is aching in her chest.

“What?” He doesn’t challenge her when she pushes him away, but he stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden mood shift. “What happened?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is hurting, the painful lump a tell-tale sign of the tears getting ready to fall.

“Y/n?” he asks again, getting off his bed and walking towards her. All amusement has left his face, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. She shrugs him off when he approaches her.

“Don’t.” She feels embarrassed, her mind only filled with insecurity. He was making fun of her for being a virgin, teasing her. As if she wasn’t already embarrassed enough about it herself.

She’d planned on calling Maddie to come pick her up when she was ready to go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She leaves his room hastily, before any of the tears can fall, and nearly runs out of his apartment. 

She’ll walk home. 

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

OMG!!! HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTTTTT HEHEHEHE :-) part 3 is up on my patreon already and will come to tumblr next saturday (augsut 5) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i LOVE U GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!!

sunshine (part 3) - in which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

sunshine masterlist

[kittykattropicanna]

would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!! 

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3  I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone. 

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends. 

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.  

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage. 

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly. 

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well. 

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be. 

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence. 

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment. 

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour. 

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt. 

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful. 

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary…. 

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do. 

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like. 

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up. 

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load. 

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you 

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost  Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years  Sentence ends: Year and a half  Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak. 

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android. 

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out. 

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him….. 

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter. 

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed. 

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key. 

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man. 

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter. 

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle! 

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :( 

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)” 

And of course you did!! He asked so politely! 

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body. 

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for 

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible. 

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:( 

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you 

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise. 

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real 

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

[filohazard]

"We Demand To Be Taken Seriously"

[Eclectic Opposition, Gig Kephart, Mako Trig, Sokrates Nikon Artemisios (And the Divine Integrity), Fero Feritas (and Safewater), Exeter Leap, Lye Lychen (and Aterika’kaal) and Apparatus Aperitif, the Night Mayor]

Inspired by this tweet retained for posterity by @peacereturnedtothevalley

[hapless-studyblr]

day 20/30 of productivity

Calc II exam's tomorrow and I just want it to be over! I feel like my whole brain is just integrals and trig functions.

[itsbenedict]

From the beginning | Previously | Coin standings | 4/18 | 2/2

Adea, with the finely-honed mom skill of Bothering Customer Service People, decides to loudly play NOSE KARATE GAMES ASK TO SEE MANAGER, but no one responds- she attracts the attention of some glitch-ghosts before Walter slaps a wing over her mouth.

He suggests that ELECTRIC BOLT LEFT US they COLLECT BUTTERFLIES, herding them together into one of those dense swarms that seems to allow them to reach the fennec fox who keeps dropping off supplies for them. It's not a bad idea- but it's tricky to corral loose butterflies in a ghost-crowded juice bar without antagonizing some ghosts.

The two of you split up, and- well, Adea gets sort of attacked by some of the ghosts she ticked off. They phase right through the both of you, but there's a chilling sensation and a loss of motor control involved, your limbs flailing involuntarily as they do so. It's disconcerting, and Adea takes a couple hits to her Soul Integrity from smacking against tables and the like, but otherwise things go much smoother than might be expected of a bug-corralling operation in an extremely haunted room.

The swarm, this time, doesn't reveal a fennec, but rather a tired looking cat polishing a glass at the bar. They can't say they've ever been asked to serve drinks to a cloud of butterflies before, but they appear to take the whole affair in an uncanny stride, and accept the CAFÉ VOUCHER. It's good for 20 Coin's worth of the house menu:

Some newfangled experimental INHALED FOODS that come in compressed air canisters (2)

A SPRINGLIKE CARD that resembles something from hanafuda but isn't quite the right season (2)

A tulpa of a little pony who embodies the spirit of generosity, so you always have a MIND RARITY at hand (2)

You could get poked with a cocktail umbrella. "YOW," SHRIEK US, because that toothpick end is pointy. (2)

Ever want to be traumatized by fae teaching you math? Now TRIG FAIRY TRAUMA can be yours, for only (2)

Jack wants to just get in the car and drive, but I BUCKLE UP, JACK. It's the law. (5)

There's a DOMINANT ICICLE hanging over the bar that's clearly the boss of all the other icicles. (4)

They sell SELTZERS, APTLY, by the sea shore. Or, shorter: by the sea, sure. Sheesh. (1)

There's a bee waiting in line to order behind you. It's going to be the BEE'S TURN next. (1)

Ol' Zed over there on the house piano is playing ZED'S TUNE, but he takes requests, for (1)

And lastly, if you're boring or watching your weight, you can always just order some SPINACH SALADS (2).

(All of these options restore hunger at least proportional to their cost, but may have other effects. How much of each the 20-Coin voucher will buy will be determined by the spread of results on this poll, rather than chosen by a single winner. You can also choose to PORT POLYTHEISTS and spend your own Coin to purchase extra rations.)

Continued

[were--ralph]

also genuinely thinking about becoming a math major down the road. college math is so much more fun and interesting and practical than it ever felt in 1-12 grade. i find myself thinking about limits and tangents and integrals a lot lately and its like. very cool to see it in real world applications.

like in high school it was just "you'll use this someday" which, imo, is a bad way of explaining the situation; in high school you can't account for which students will be mechanics, scientists, developers, etc or which ones will live out their lives in retail, or fast food service, ow whatever. neither thing is worse than the other, but the point is you don't know who will use trig in daily lives so you teach everyone. i don't remember a thing about chemistry and never suffered for it but i have a friend who is a nuclear engineer (insane) and its like the basis for his life.

all that aside, i went from "math is whatever" to "im genuinely thinking about this half of my day and using it in the most nonsensical and probably incorrect ways, but its so fun to do" and i enjoy it

[faeriemarie]

i am so going to pass my calc exam tomorrow. like wdym i'm literally a genius and the smartest person in the entire world. i have an iq of 200. i'm basically sheldon cooper. i don't even know how calculus is so easy for me. whenever i look at an integral, i immediately know how to solve it. there's no doubt about it. and i know all of the formulas too. i was born knowing all of the trig identities and everything. of course i know the double angle identities. of course i know the midpoint and trapezoid rules. like this is all so easy for me, i can't believe i'm still in this class. i should be in calculus iii already. i should win my nobel prize for physics already. ugh i'm just so smart honestly it's a struggle to be as smart as i am. like my brain is just so big and i know everything. there's honestly nothing that i don't already know. i'm sure i'll get 100% on the exam. there's no reality where i would not get a 100% on the exam. i'm smarter than my teacher too and i never make mistakes. colleges are actually afraid of how much i pass math tests. i just pass without trying, it's so weird. and i can't seem to get my grade to go below a 100%. even if i never study and put in no effort, i keep succeeding. it's like i'm immune to failure or something. is it weird to say that i'm actually a little excited for my test tommorow? like i know i'm going to pass but it's going to be so easy. it might even be the easiest exam i've ever taken in my entire life. you know what- it probably will be. i've got this in the bag. nothing can keep me from my 100%. literally nothing. wow, being good at math is such a relief. i'm so grateful i have been blessed with this wonderful gift. thank you so much universe! i am so happy and grateful that i am a math genius and i pass every exam with flying colors!!

[oensible]

sometimes you will set up an integral wrong and get stuck in the treacherous waters of trig sub for like 20 minutes but you know what it will all be ok if you remember to check your integral set up <3 in a way this is a metaphor for things in life. sometimes you will be stuck on a problem such as an easy very simple problem and you will doubt yourself and consider that you should have prepared better in advance to handle this problem instead of going eh i'll probably be fine when the problem all along was that you cannot draw triangles correctly <3 moral of the story: don't study for anything. except maybe drawing triangle

this post brought to you by today learned i cannot read coordinates correctly under pressure for the life of me <3