#(math was easy to get through bc there are formulas)

[deanpinterester]

sometimes i think about the time i failed a midterm (and i mean failed in a literal sense, not like "aw i got a B+") while i was in an enriched high school program where everyone else was getting A's. in hindsight it should have been clear i needed help and i was struggling. but all the teacher said was to try harder next time

#uhhhh me #when i say i hated high school i'm usually just taklking abt the years i was in this program lol #i don't even know how i got in. i felt so alone when my grades couldn't match up to everyone else's #i didn't know how i was supposed to talk to my classmates about it because they all seem to just Get it and i just didn't #AND LIKE. i didn't even get a stern talking to by the teachers or principal or anyone #teacher just said 'wow you really don't like this class huh' as she handed the test back to me #and i had to seek her out MYSELF afterward to ask how i could make up my grades #genuinely wondering if a student's grade suddenly dropped like that isn't it a cause for worry #or had my grades been slipping so casually that they just assumed i was slacking off #oh ya to be clear it wasn't like something bad happened in my personal life or anything #i just had a rly rly hard time focusing on subjects i couldn't logic my way through (that being history and english) #(math was easy to get through bc there are formulas) #eventually i did figure out a way to properly study for tests #but like. i feel like the teacher upon seeing my failing grade could have offered me some studying strategies? idk #i don't rly resent her for it but at the same time. WOWIE that was such a shitty time in high school

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#michael gavey #michael gavey fic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey oneshot #saltburn #saltburn fic #saltburn smut #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn oneshot #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse #ewan mitchell fic #ewan mitchell smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #my writing

[erosauriarts]

SSKK^2 As Teens [Headcanons]

Outfits: 

Acchan wears a lot of J-pop fashion - athletic wear. Open and easy to move in. The designs are simple, but with his brother’s help, he makes his clothes his own. 

Ryuuchan paints little designs on his clothes - some of which are inside jokes that not even Atsushi and Aku know. 

Acchan likes it when no one knows what his designs mean, and he flaunts his custom sweater/shirt around. 

He wears crocs. Unironically. He likes he can kick them off whenever to climb anything he wants. Everyone hates them, but they can’t handle it when he tries to go find them.

If he can get away with it, he’d wear clashing patterns.

He’s destructive to pants in specific- he goes through them quite a bit. Atsushi can’t get him to stop.

Ryuu-chan is very simple. He likes self-expression and to look smart. He tends to wear layers, and Acchan encourages colorful jackets for Rashomon. He gets told he dresses too old for his age; to his reply is ‘yuh.’

He likes it when his outfit’s pallets match. He will test color theory on some outfits, but rather they’d just match them. 

He likes it when his jacket is darker than his shirt.

Though he makes designs for Acchan, he doesn’t really like wearing graphic tee/sweaters. 

~More Headcanons and Context ~

Haircuts:

Acchan watches a lot of TV - some of which are 80s TV. HE REALLY WANTED A MULLET. He kept telling everyone he was going to grow one, but Atsushi was insistent he didn’t. Aku stepped in to let him know that hair is important to a kid’s self esteem. Surrendering his rejection; Acchan is allowed to grow out his mullet. He doesn’t brush his hair, so he tends to look like he’s been electrocuted. 

Ryuuchan grew his hair like Chuuya's [mostly to try it out]. Unlike his brother, he cares for his hair really well. He prefers to pull it back to keep it from getting in his mouth. His hair has never passed his shoulders, and he’s ok with that. [It grows too fast, so he gets major cuts periodically. It returns to the length after a few months.

Academics:

Acchan is either really good at school or fails hard. He has a natural understanding to patterns and repetition but if school requires critical thinking; he panics and answers like “fish” on a math test. If there is a formula to the school work - he will blossom. He’s also been asked to join sports groups because he is the fastest runner in his class. Atsushi encouraged it until Acchan played soccer and kicked the ball so hard with the tiger that he had to pull him from sports that required kicking or throwing. [Atsushi was mostly worried for other kids' safety]

Ryuu-chan is attached to creative classes, though he does really well in all his closes. He, however, gets stressed with the school starts to bring up university.  He gets in his head and tends to over study and get exhausted on test day. 

Personality:

Acchan is really sweet to everyone he comes across. He tends to come home late from school because he gets stopped to do a series of heavy labor requests for the neighbors. He’s also very hungry and asks for food for payment. He comes home with snacks everyday. He’s well spoken if he is interested in a particular subject but when him and his brother fights over hypotheticals - all intelligence leaves.

Ryuu-chan is pretty reserved - though not socially avoidant. He’s too polite [engrained bc of Atsushi] and tends to do everything everyone asks. Unlike his brother, Ryuu-chan gets asked to do complicated tasks. Old people also really like talking to him, and it often feels like they seek him out to talk to him. He tends to dip if his social battery gets too much.

Context:

@sskk-squared

#art #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #fan art #digital art #procreate #sskk fanart #sskk #sskk² #bsd sskk #shin soukoku #acchan #ryuuchan #atsushi nakajima #akutagawa ryunosuke

[anotherpapercut]

College Resources

hey y'all so I have a degree in math, and have been tutoring college level math, stats, physics, and study skills for a few years now and I have several certifications as a college level tutor and in my years tutoring I've picked up a lot of absolutely essential things you NEED to know to pass math classes (and others!) if you have a hard time in math class, which unfortunately most schools will not teach you

so if you're in college (or high school, but some of these will be college specific) and you would like to hear my Professional Tips for how to survive math in college I have compiled a list of things I think you should know below the read more! I'm going to put a couple general tips at the top though for people who aren't taking a math class

alright, welcome to the read more! let's start with some general things

ok I'm starting with a kind of tip before the tips: if you are disabled, talk to disability support services at your school. a lot of times they provide services to attain a diagnosis if you don't have one, but if you do it's typically pretty easy to get accommodations and if your teachers try not to follow them, they will get in A LOT of trouble (I'm in the us so idk how disability laws are in other countries but here this is a big deal for universities bc public funding etc and if you make a complaint they will be FORCED to comply). I'm not saying bad experiences never happen, I've not been to every school in the us and I'm sure there are places that suck abt this, but I literally would not have been able to get a degree in math without accommodations (I'm autistic and have dyscalculia + memory issues) so it was worth every annoyed sigh by a dumbass teacher (which honestly rarely happened. most of them were cool). some possible accommodations include, extra time on tests, separate testing locations, formula cards, ability to use notes etc etc

I work in a free tutoring center at my local community college. while I won't say these are definitely universal, every college I have encountered (in the US, where I live) has one of these. Google the name of your school with tutoring. there is a very high chance you have free tutors available in a variety of subjects who are ready to help you. you should utilize the fuck out of this bc ur already probably paying for it in ur tuition

my favorite resource ever is one you may have heard of but I'm reminding you of it anyway. the Crash Course YouTube channel! it has free comprehensive videos about various subjects (including anatomy, physics, biology, economics, statistics and lots lots more). the videos are about 10 minutes each and they're incredibly easy to understand. they're an amazing way to study for finals. trust me on this one. they actually now have real introductory college courses that you can take for credit (tho I think you have to pay for that?) through YouTube so check into that!

take notes!!!!!!!! for real. seriously. even if you've never had to before. trust me. and don't just copy exactly what the board says, write what your teacher says out loud as well, that is often the most important stuff. I highly recommend investing in a few colored pens and/or highlighters. anytime the teacher says something important (such as formulas in a math class or a grammar rule in an English class) either write it in another color, or highlight it. color coding your notes even the tiniest bit will help you tremendously when you're studying and doing homework later. this doesn't mean having a color code so elaborate and strict that you're spending more time and energy figuring out the right color than listening and writing. I usually do the bulk of my notes in black then things like formulas or whatever in one bright color and extra bits of info from the teacher in another, this way it's easier to find the important stuff later on

if you've got a couple extra bucks, invest in a mini stapler. you'll be shocked how often those lil bitches come in handy

DO NOT EVER purchase your text books before the classes start (unless you get like an email before class starts telling you you need the book, but this is pretty rare tbh). half of your teachers are going to tell you on day 1 that they don't use the book at all. and honestly almost all of your books can be found by googling the name + pdf. just triple check that you have the correct edition!

speaking of emails, CHECK YOUR FUCKING SCHOOL EMAIL. I am so dead serious about this one. set up notifications on your phone. if you do not check your email you are going to show up for cancelled classes, miss assignment corrections, and generally not do nearly as well in your classes. I know this sounds fake but holy fucking shit please for the love of all that is good and holy check your fucking email. seriously.

the best way to study for your finals is to look at past tests and homework! if your teacher isn't a total dick they'll give you back your tests and homework. when studying for your final, go through and redo any that you got wrong, and look over the ones you got right. teachers usually take final questions from old tests and homework so if you do this it's very possible you'll study your exact finals questions. if they won't give you these back, reread your notes (in a way I'll describe in a moment)

reread your notes the same day you take them or very soon after so the lecture is still fresh in your mind! when you do this, grab a colored pen and take notes on your notes. I know this sounds ridiculous but it's actually a very important study tool. if you come across something you wrote that is confusing, write out an explanation. write down extra things that will help you understand the material. if there's something that you don't understand or don't remember PLEASE ask your teacher. some of them won't answer email so catch them in office hours or after class if you can. at the end of the semester when you're studying for finals, do this all over again but through your whole notebook for the semester (not all at once. pls take breaks lmfao)

if your teacher doesn't offer it up at the end of the semester, ask "can you please tell us some of the topics we should emphasize when studying for our finals?" (you can also say this in a far less pretentious way but I've found that professors are more likely to give you a real answer if you talk like this ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I'm ngl, some of em will be assholes about this. they may laugh at the idea and snarkily say "look at your homework" or some shit equivalent. roll your eyes at these old bitches and move on. but many if not most will at least give y'all some idea of what to expect. and crucially: write down what they say and use it as a study guide

okey dokey!! that concludes the general section. now I'm gonna talk about some math specific stuff that will help you a lot if you struggle with math!

starting with an easy one: get a good calculator. please for the love of GOD do not get the TI-30X IIS unless you love it and are EXTREMELY familiar with all of the different operations. I'm sorry but this calculator sucks ass and it will hold you back. for about the same price you can get my personal favorite the Casio FX-115ES Plus (1st edition only, I haven't tried the 2nd edition bc I don't like change) or an FX-991 EX. if you're a Texas instruments guy get a TI 30XS or if ur doing calc and shit I'd get a 36X pro. I just prefer Casio personally lmao. in all likelihood your math teacher will be a calculator nerd who can teach you how to use any of these but there are also lots of videos made by calculator nerds on YouTube as well

so next I just want to emphasize how important your notes are. you cannot pass a math class without good notes unless it's a class you've already taken or something, and honestly even then I'd recommend you write some stuff down because the thing about math is there are a lot of different ways to do the same thing. which brings me to my next point

pay attention to the process your teacher uses to solve problems (I'll give an example in a sec) and especially to how they write the process down. if you're like me and you have trouble with the whole "show your work" thing this will help a lot, because you can use what your teacher writes down as a guideline for what you should write down. for instance, you may have learned about a math concept like permutations and combinations in high school one way, and then be taught a completely different way of performing the calculation in college. if this happens, ask your teacher about your way. sometimes their way is better for a specific reason and it's really important that you learn it. sometimes they'll say it doesn't matter just do what makes the most sense to you. sometimes you will also not get full credit if you do things a different way too so be careful and pay attention to what your teacher says abt it. you may have also been taught to show some steps in an operation but not others and your new teacher may want all of them. or none. or different ones. unfortunately math has a lot of variations

similarly, if there's a concept you don't understand, start by asking your teacher about it first bc they may want you doing a specific thing. if they're not helpful and you don't have access to a tutor turn to the internet. here are my recommendations for resources: Khan Academy has videos and examples explaining concepts in pretty much all types of math. usually really helpful because they'll show you several different methods and use different explanations, MathWay for classes that come before trig/calc. you can use it for those but it's a little more annoying lol specifically in regards to graphing and solving integrals and shit. this tool has A LOT of stuff in it but is best as a calculator to check your work on stuff and for showing you graphs that have transformations and shit like that from college algebra. it's got settings for different math types and even chemistry tho!, for more complicated graphing I'd use Desmos. you can use this in all classes but it's just a bit more complicated imo and it's more made for complex operations so I prefer to use MathWay as much as possible bc it's just more user friendly., there's also Symbolab which a lot of my fellow tutors really like but I personally tend to use the others more, Wolfram Alpha is a pretty well known one. tbh I find it kind of hard to use sometimes so i usually use it as a last resort lmfao but it is really good!, this last one is calculus specific (including things like calc based physics ofc) but derivative calculator and integral calculator are everything to me. could not have gotten through calc 2 and 3 w/o these mfs

OK THIS PART IS REALLY IMPORTANT!! we're going to talk about how you can make your math tests WAY easier on you and massively improve your chances of passing. here's what you're going to do for every test

1. when studying for your test, go through and find ALL formulas that you used in the unit(s) your test is over (this includes formulas you learned previously but used in this unit as well!!)

2. commit them to memory. easiest way to do this (besides practicing using them!!) is to rewrite them a few times including what you use them for and what all of the symbols and letters stand for

3. when you go in to take your test, spend like 5-10 minutes beforehand, right up until they make you put everything away, studying and rewriting these

4. the SECOND the test hits your desk, flip it over and write down every single formula immediately (including as much extra info like when to use and variable definitions as possible). now you won't have to try to remember them 30 minutes in when your brain is frying!!

5. go through the test and read each question carefully. if you can't remember how to solve it within 30 seconds skip it. you might only do 4 or 5 questions (maybe less depending on the length of your test) after the first pass, but just go back to the beginning and do it again, giving urself a little more time w each pass. this will ensure that you're not spending 45 minutes on problem 4 and having no time to get to the rest of the test. additionally with math it is extremely common to basically find the answer to how to do one problem while you're doing another problem. doing the ones you know first will also boost your confidence and help prevent anxiety from wiping ur brain. this is a really really important part of math tests

6. before you hand your test in, make sure you've written SOMETHING down on EVERY SINGLE QUESTION. even if you have absolutely 0 idea whatsoever what to do, there is always a chance for partial credit. a lot of times, you also know more than you think you do. so even if you can only do half a step of the whole process, half a point is better than 0!! if you really have no clue what to do, make something up. I know this probably sounds ridiculous but I'm so deadass. once I was taking a physics test and could not for the life of me remember what formula to use so I just made one up based on my vague idea of how it worked lmao. I wrote off to the side "I know this isn't how physics works, but I can't remember that so just pretend I'm god for a second" and I got like 75% of the points bc the teacher appreciated the effort!! there were fucking countless times when I was taking a test and I got to a point where I knew the steps of what I was supposed to do but could not figure out HOW to actually DO the math. so I wrote in words my understanding of what the next steps were. even though I didn't finish answering the question, I always got points for trying. this is what teachers are wanting from you. effort. so PLEASE write literally anything even if you're just making that shit up (just explain your reasoning in words to the side, as long as you're using logic you're really getting the essence of math anyway). you would not BELIEVE how fast your grades will improve by doing this. I tutored a girl who went from Ds to Bs within literally 2 weeks of starting tutoring just because she stopped leaving any questions blank and started getting partial credit

that's all the important stuff I can think of for now though I'm sure there's much more so I may update this in the future!

of course everyone is going to have a different experience and relationship with math. so adjust all of these tips to fit how you learn best. please try to remember that learning math is a very important part of developing your critical reasoning and logistical analysis skills. these are essential to understanding and interacting with the world and math is just a way of exercising those muscles. trust me when I say I know how infuriating math can be. I have dyscalculia and a math degree. I've spent so many hours crying over math you probably wouldn't even believe me. but it's worth it! and frankly, if you're in college, you're paying a lot of money for this class. you deserve to get everything you possibly can out of it

above all, if you're having trouble ASK FOR HELP. ask your teacher, ask your classmates, ask the head of the department, ask student services, ask Google!! and if you need help you can always ask me! :) I love helping people with this stuff and even if I don't know the answer to your question I'm pretty good at knowing where to look for them!

#this is so long and im praying the readmore works #this has been in my drafts for like a year sjdbakhdwihddnemsodm #college resources #math resources #forgot that tumblr builds in its own readmore now #good enough right?

[moon-lv3r]

studying with you ~🍊

🦋 category: established relationship, fluff, one-shot

🦋 characters: narancia

🦋 summary: the year end tests are coming right up and you still haven't got the hang of a math topic, worse still, your boyfriend is an idiot when it comes to math and his friend, fugo, is too busy to be tutoring the both of you (reader is not a stand user)

🦋 warnings: nil

🦋 notes: so im in kind of a bad mental head space and i need things to help distract myself so i figured that i should try and write an one-shot for my beloved comfort character <3 hopefully it helps to clear my head bc everything has been shit. also i am too lazy to proof read so deal with the grammatical errors, english isnt my first language

“I hate this!” You whined as you flipped through your notebook filled with numbers and formulas. Math was never easy to revise for and you were just getting really stressed out. Having a dumbass for a boyfriend doesn’t make it better, but at least he could make you laugh.

“Eh I’ve failed this topic like a hundred times! Fugo keeps explaining it to me but I don’t get it. What is a minor sector?” Narancia whined along. “Can’t you just get a ruler and measure around it?”

You would’ve burst out laughing if it wasn’t for the fact that you two were in a library and the librarian just so happened to be a cranky old man. Narancia always called him the “balding old fart” and said that Mista probably has the same hairstyle as the old fart. “That’s not how math works Narancia, or else I wouldn’t be in school.”

You have always been the top student in your class but recent stress has taken a toll on you. Sleepless nights, inability to focus, terrible headaches were all draining you. It was hard keeping up with expectations. Narancia was the only person that would let you relax and make you feel comfortable, which was the reason why the both of you were a thing. He just made you so happy.

The clock ticks while you and Narancia continued reading. Narancia was only three pages in when he gave up for good and took a short nap. His brain never works well with him. You have been doing math questions and checking the answers, each time you got a question wrong was an ego-crushing moment. You just felt like you weren’t good enough.

“Eh y/n, I just realised you haven’t eaten anything, how about we head over to the canteen for a break?” Narancia yawned, you didn’t even realised that he had woken up.

“Bu—”

“No buts y/n! We are taking a break!” He cut you off while gently shutting your book and quietly making your way out. There was no way you were going to study alone so you decided to follow. There were barely anyone at the canteen so the queues were short and you were able to get your lunch rather quickly.

It took you a while to realise that Narancia only asked for a break because he noticed that you have been pushing yourself too hard and started to skip meals in order to study. This boy never fails to bring a smile up on your face.

Narancia decided that it would be a good time to ramble on and on about his life while eating three packets of snacks, all at once. He loved mixing up his snacks. “And there was this one time when Gio—”

The ringing of the school bell ended Narancia’s sentence before he could even finish. This was usually the timing when all of the students having extra lessons get released. Narancia looked mad while you laughed, urging him to continue. “Wait I forgot what I wanted to say… Damn it! Piece of shit!” Narancia swore loudly.

People started to fill the canteen and many of them had heard Narancia cursing loudly, sending judging looks towards the both of you. Most of the students found Narancia and Fugo weird anyway. Their style was enough to ensure that the people at school would make fun of them. They were also friends with Giorno, another student with weird style and skipped school for a whole week. Nobody believed that they were in the mafia until they were spotted with Bruno Bucciarati, the leader of Passione.

You decided to quickly finish your meal and head back towards your dorm with Narancia happily skipping his way with you. He was such a smiley boy. Your dorm was on one of the lower levels so it didn’t take long for the both of you to arrive. The moment you opened your door and entered, Narancia immediately jumped onto the couch. “So soft,” he mumbled while grinning.

He looked like a sweet gentle boy right there and then, completely different from his first day of school. A group of boys started making fun of him for being small and scrawny, thinking he would be an easy target, but somehow, those boys ended up getting shot in the leg after Narancia muttered something along the lines of “Aerosmith”. Fugo started lecturing him about using “stands” in public. You had no idea what all of that meant. Either way, the school deemed Narancia as innocent since they didn’t find any evidence of Narancia owning a gun. Those boys stayed the furthest away from Narancia after that. If somebody told you that you could be dating a boy who magically got people shot, you wouldn’t have brought it.

“Ghirga!” You shouted, “our exams are starting.” Narancia never liked it when someone called him by his surname.

“Oi y/n don’t call me that!” He retaliated. “Dumb (your surname).”

“Says the one with 0 out of 10 for a math test,” you replied.

“How am I supposed to know what is y=mx+c?” Narancia immediately defended himself from your sudden insult at his intelligence.

“Mhm,” you mumbled. “Come here Narancia, I am going to teach you.”

Narancia reluctantly got off your couch and joined you at the coffee table. He looked extremely focus while you taught him some math. Math was that one subject that seems to be impossible to understand but you always managed to understand it just a bit, enough to top your class. He “huh-ed” at almost everything and asked more questions rather than solving any. You were very patient however, telling him formulas, giving him tips, and even ways to remember formulas easily. Narancia seemed to be the type to learn better if you let him learn at his own pace and include funny things while teaching.

“Ah so y=mx+c is the formula for gradient?” Narancia asked.

“Not just any line,” you replied. “You need to be specific.”

“Straight lines! Because Bucciarati and Abbacchio are not straight so y=mx+c wouldn’t apply to them!” Narancia finished.

“That’s right!” You smiled. “You’re so smart Narancia, I knew you would get it!”

Narancia smiled back, “you sound just like Fugo. You know, I think you might be a better teacher. Fugo isn’t as good as you when it comes to teaching.”

“I am telling Fugo,” you chanted, trying to exit your dorm to look for Fugo. It was obviously a joke but you loved to tease that idiot.

“Wa— Get back! Y/n no—” Narancia practically jumped and chased after you. “Fugo’ll kill me!”

He fell for it.

“Come and get me then!” You panted as the both of you ran around your dorm, being careful enough not to topple anything over. It had caught you completely off-guard when Narancia jumped you from behind, tackling you onto the soft ground while giggling.

“Got you y/n,” Narancia grinned proudly. “Please don’t tell Fugo I said that.”

“Don’t worry I won’t,” you reassured him.

The very next day, Fugo was confused as to why you were laughing so hard when you, him and Narancia were all having breakfast together at the canteen. Giorno was confused as well when he joined you three for lunch.

Neither you nor Narancia ever told Fugo about what Narancia had said. Even Giorno was in on the joke after a while, Fugo remained clueless. Nevertheless, at least Narancia’s math improved. Even though he still failed the math exam.

#i love narancia #narancia ghirga #jojo x reader #vento aureo #jjba part 5 #golden wind #x gn reader #jojo's bizarre adventure

[maewiiweam]

Gᴏᴏᴅ ɢɪʀʟ

pairing: Strenger x Y/N

CW: obviously teacherxstudent, implied spanking bcs i didnt finish the fic (izzy’s wish), strenger’s “good girl” era,

Mary’s note: pls forgive me, no this is not self indulged i do not want to get spanked by strenger. I will never finish this but better than never posting it, ig. I will not be paying for you therapy <3

It was friday, last period. Basically only 20 minutes left until it was weekend. You had maths, your worst subject. Right now, you were doing geometry, or trying to. It didnt make sense to you at all, the calculation part at least, drawing was easy to you. But without getting the missing length there’s no way to get this triangle to look right. At this point you were ready to cry, but had to keep it together for your own sake. For now.

13:47 pm

“Before the lesson ends I want somebody to do the excecise upfront real quick....”He started looking through the class room to find someone to do the exercise, and of course he picked you. Lucky me.

How do you tell this meance of a man now that you’re too dumb to calculate this?

“Y/N come up front to the tablet, please” He pointed at you with the big board ruler. Well it’s now or embarassement for the rest of the school year. Your hesitation was adorable to him, it made you seem so submissve. His shy girl.

“Actually, Professor, I uh...I didn’t do it. I don’t...really understand the topic...” You trail off, pulling your shoulders in to hide in shame.

„S’not good.” He says in his disapoinnted voice, letting his shoulders slack „Why didn’t you say anything?” Unsure yourself you just shrugged, dismissivly and then...

riiing riiing

Saved by the bell, like everyone else you start packing your things ready to go home and enjoy your weekend. Weirdly enough, Mr. Strenger

„Y/n, I need you to stay behind, please.” The entire room let loose collective „ooh”s. You started getting nervous, what could he need now from you? Does he want to scold you for being an idiot? 

Once everyone left he closed the door, returning to his old seat.

„Please, take a chair, sit there. I just wanna talk” He gestures towards the empty space infront of the teacher table, continuing to scibble in his notebook. You take the closest chair and sit on it, nervously fiddeling with your hands.

„No need to be nervous, I just wanna try and help. Tell me what did you not understand?”

„I just can‘t remember the formula, that‘s all. No big deal I‘ll just learn it when i get home.“ He nods understandingly, a low hum escaping his throat.

„How about we try something new, something different.“ He closes his notebook and puts his pen back into his pencil case, zipping it closed. „Something that will help you remember, I‘m sure.“

He slowly puts his things into his bag and stands up, shoving everything that isn‘t his to his right on the table. He goes around the table and stands right behind me, I feel him out his hands on the chair and suddenly there‘s a strong pull that almost has me falling of off my chair.

„Stand up.“ He demands into my ear. He‘s so close. So close you can feel his breath on your cheek and ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your entire body.

You oblige and stand up on shaking legs, he takes a step back and hands you a piece of chalk. You give him a confused look.

„Look, I‘m going to ask you a few questions regarding our topic at the moment. You don‘t have to get them right, if you don‘t though, we‘ll do a little exercise to help you remember. Alright?“ You give him a small nod, avoiding eye contact.

„I asked if it‘s alright.“ He repeats in a very demanding tone.

„Yes, professor, it‘s alright.“ You say the loudest you can which still comes out a little squeaky due to the fear you‘re feeling.

„Good girl.“ He gives you a gentle smile.

You stand in front of the board and wait for his instructions. Soon you‘re solving exercise after exercise with ease, until you get to a formula.

„Uuum…fuck…stupid formula.“ You whisper to yourself trying your hardest to remember the damn formula, but it just wouldn‘t click in your brain.

„Having trouble?“ You hear your teacher ask, again remembering that he‘s here. He‘s here. You quickly turn to look at him.

„No…I know this one…just one second.“ You turn back to the board in lightning speed trying to think of the formula. Fuck, it was going so well. You feel tears starting to swell in your eyes.

„Y/N, please don‘t stress yourself for not knowing it. I told you, I‘ll help you remember.“ He reassures, which helps because you turn around to look at him not even trying to hide the tears in your eyes.

„It‘s okay, no need to cry.“ He steps closer to you, standing right in front of you making you look up to see his face.

„I‘ll need you to trust me here.“ He whispers while wiping the tears of off your cheeks. „Really trust me. If you have any bit if doubt leave now.“ The look in his eyes is telling you how serious is right now, making you fear him a bit more. But the tension, oh the sweet, sweet tension. It‘s pulling you closer to him and making you want to submit yourself to him like a doll. To please him is all you can think about.

„I trust you.“ You give him a nod and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes. „I want to learn and remember.“ You stand up straight before him, like you‘re a soldier who is about to go to war.

„Good girl.“

#maewiwrites

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

with the amount of times i get approached for maths problems you’d think i’m doing a maths degree at uni

#i know people are all ur either english or maths but i was both #naturally? i was shitty at maths. but i was determined to learn and i did and i fell in love with it. and i guess got good ish #naturally? been pretty okay at english the whole way through. writing is easy for the most part. #but i decided to go the english route at uni not maths #and yet #which do i get approached for #should've done a maths degree so i can help with homework i GUESS #i love maths a lot #so i love being asked to help bc it's so fun to go over #things just work! you apply the formula and they fuckin work yo! #it's wild #it's beautiful #english is fucking who knows. maybe i wrote a good essay maybe not. #maths. maths u know. it's good. #but numbers is more of a relaxing thing for me than anything else #used to do maths before bed bc it calmed me down #wouldn't have been able to tell with all the struggling i did for years though

[atlabeth]

fever - sokka x reader

this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for 3 weeks so i thot it was prime time i actually finished it

this is kinda based off the song w dua lipa and angele so you can listen to that if you want

summary: sokka's convinced there's a mystery illness keeping you from focusing, but somehow he's completely oblivious that the only 'sick' you are is lovesick, and he's the reason you can't focus.

a/n: i have never written a sickfic. but this is like. a fake sick fic. its an idiots in love fic. i mean this is coming from mr "is he taller than me? is he better looking?" himself so. it makes sense. as usual, this is not proofread bc im a lazy mf

also im sorry for being vague with the calc but i was NOT about to do math during summer who do you think i am? ??

wc: 1.7k

warning(s): mentions of being sick and 🤢calculus 🤮 but otherwise tooth rotting fluff

-

How could the smartest man you knew be so, so incredibly stupid?

You thought that you were being obvious, so obviously that you were sure he knew. It was embarrassing how obvious you were.

You had met Sokka in your calculus class at the start of the new semester after you ended up sitting next to each other, and it wasn’t a stretch to say that you were immediately smitten. With eyes like the ocean and a face that had to have been crafted by the gods, you were almost too distracted to respond when he asked you for a pencil. But when he winked at you after giving his thanks, it only solidified what you had already suspected: you had known this man for all of five minutes, and you already had a crush on him.

Little did you know, it was going to turn into the most infuriating crush you had ever experienced.

You and Sokka became fast friends even though calculus was the only class you had together. Unfortunately, it was also something that you completely sucked at. Bad news, it was required for your major. Good news, Sokka was some sort of genius and offered to tutor you — Wednesdays in the library turned into a weekly occasion, and served as an opening for your calculus skills, your feelings for Sokka, and your exasperation to all grow stronger.

You normally weren’t someone to beat around the bush. If you started to like someone, you told them and dealt with whatever happened after, but something about Sokka just kept you from spilling your feelings outright. You knew that if he didn’t feel the same way, your relationship likely wouldn’t change, but there was still that tiny voice that said it’s better to stay like this in case things do go wrong — and this was the first time you listened to that voice. You simply valued your friendship too much.

But that didn’t mean you were going to be completely quiet about it — you hoped that if you did enough, he would be able to realize you liked him and do the whole process for you. A bit of a dim hope, but crushes make people do stupid things.

Things like bringing an extra coffee to every session, laughing at all his jokes (even the bad ones), sitting a little closer to him than usual, not dropping out of this wretched class so you could spend time together (it might’ve been required, but you still counted it). He didn’t make a point to object to anything, so you knew you weren’t making him uncomfortable — but you had concluded after nearly a whole semester of working and studying together that he was the most oblivious person in all of Ba Sing Se. He could teach you all kinds of formulas, but had no idea that you liked him. Grand.

Today was arguably the most important session out of any of them, seeing as your next class was the final, so it was only fitting that Sokka unknowingly made himself more interesting than any material you could’ve been working with. His arms were going to be the death of both you and your calc grade. You swore that the heat rushing to your cheeks was actually emanating off of you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sokka grinned as he saw you and raised a hand in greeting, a sentiment you would’ve returned had it not been for the coffee cups in your hands. You settled for mirroring his grin and settled down in the seat across from him. You slid his coffee cup over, set your own down, then shrugged your bag off all before taking a seat.

“You ready to study ‘till your eyes bleed?” he asked, prompting a nervous laugh from you.

“You jest, but my eyes might actually start bleeding depending on how long we go,” you sighed. “There’s a reason I got an extra shot of espresso today.”

“Come on — by now you should know that you have nothing to worry about! I am the best teacher there is, and you got me all to yourself.”

Your eyes widened momentarily and you coughed, purposefully averting your gaze to give yourself some time to recover. Okay, he was going to make it really hard to focus today. “Let’s just get into it.”

He nodded and flipped open his notebook, beginning to talk as he rifled through his bag for a few extra things. “Okay, we’re just gonna start with going over the basics, then we’ll work our way up. There’s a couple practice problems on that page, so you can go ahead and answer those as a warmup.

You slid the notebook over in front of you and after approximately five seconds of looking at the first problem, found yourself studying Sokka rather than the material. Who could blame you? In the battle of cute tutor boy versus calculus, he was going to win every time.

He turned around and you immediately averted your eyes once again, trying to appear extremely involved, but you found that your mind was empty on anything to do with math. “Hey, uh— how do you do this first one? I’m totally blanking here.”

“We use limits in everything — this is actually something you’re really good at!” He studied you intensely and frowned. “Are you okay? Like, you’re not sick or anything, are you? You seem kinda out of it.”

You choked out a laugh and shook your head. “No, no — I’m fine. I guess I’m just a little tired.” As if to demonstrate your lie, you took a sip from your coffee and cringed internally. Love had turned you into an idiot.

He seemed to buy it as he nodded and picked up the pencil, scribbling a couple of notes as he explained the first problem to you. “Does that make sense?” You nodded and he handed the pencil back to you. “Okay — the other ones follow the same kind of process. It should be easy enough.”

You managed to get a little further in the second problem, but your lovestruck mind would not stop focusing back on Sokka every time you tried to do, well, anything. Curse him and his perfect arms, and eyes, and hairstyle, and everything.

You shook your head and set the pencil down once more, letting loose a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Yes, you did. “I just can’t focus at all.” Because of you. You picked up your cup once more and took a sip, hoping it would do something to get you back into the math state of mind.

Sokka frowned once more as he put the back of his hand against your forehead. “God, you’re hot.” You nearly choked on your coffee as your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets — he had to know what he was doing by now — how could he not? “Like, you’re completely burning up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I swear— I just…” you set your cup down on the table and heaved a sigh that was a touch more exasperated than necessary. “Are you telling me you seriously haven’t noticed? Like, not a single thing this whole year?”

“I’ve noticed a lot of things this year,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of our whole job, so you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific.”

You finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Sokka, I’m not— I’m not sick! Haven’t you noticed that I’m only ever flustered, or running into things, or forgetting info, or— or just a complete idiot when I’m around you? I like you, like, a lot, and I have for an embarrassingly long time! The reason I can’t focus is because I am hopelessly attracted to you in every single way.”

His brows creased for a moment and you clamped your mouth shut, worried that you had just ruined everything. It was only after a pause that felt like a century that he finally responded, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Well, why didn’t you just say something?”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in pure surprise before the annoyance set in. You set your jaw as your brows furrowed and you hit him lightly on the side of his arm with the back of your palm. “You can’t be serious! You— you’ve gotta be messing with me by now. I really can’t believe that you can be that smart but this oblivious!”

He finally let the grin play across his lips in full force and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I don’t know how you don’t expect me to mess with you when you scrunch up your face all cute like that every time you get mad. Besides, I started liking you after that fifth class; I offered to help you out so I could spend more time with you! I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I kinda just enjoyed the free coffee and getting to look at you all the time.”

“I can’t believe you!” you cried as you hit his other arm. “You’re telling me that I had to deal with this- this mental turmoil about whether you liked me back, while you were just enjoying the free eye candy and coffee the whole time?”

“You have nothing to worry about! I enjoyed the company far more than the coffee,” he joked, a certain twinkle in his eye. “But, you are probably out a couple twenties after all of that. So, what do you say about this Saturday, the cafe by the shoe store? My treat.”

“Damn right it’s your treat,” you shot back, though you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your face. “You owe me a lot — you have to make up for those coffees and all the emotional distress you caused.”

“Oh, I think I’ll have plenty of time to make up for lost time. After all, we do have a lot of coffee dates to get through.” And when he winked at you just like that first day, you remembered just how impossible it was to be angry at Sokka. “But first, we kinda have to get through this study date. The final’s still happening tomorrow.”

You responded with a raised brow. “This is a study date?”

Sokka shrugged and grinned. “They’ve all been study dates. You just didn’t know it.”

-

idiots in love idiots in love idiots In LOVe

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla: @marianne1806

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka fic #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

[full-course-identity]

Attention friends, esp those who have been diagnosed--or think they might be--some sort neurodivergent (not so much mentally ill, more like ADHD or autistic):

You know about Dyslexia, right? This is a very widely discussed disorder because it's so very easy to see in a child, and therefore has a lot of coverage.

But do you know about Dysgraphia or Dyscalculia?

I've known I had dysgraphia for a long time now (since right at the end or after high school--I have not been diagnosed, but like dyslexia, it's VERY obvious once you know the signs), but I didn't really understand /just how much/ it affected me.

I have trouble drawing in certain ways that, with the amount of practice I do, genuinely shouldn't be an issue. My hands shake slightly. My lines will randomly shoot up or down. I cramp and itch and burn as if I have carpal tunnel, except I absolutely don't.

Dyscalculia I might have a milder form of, but for Jaydee, it's pretty severe, and also obvious: doing math is very difficult in their head, numbers have Feelings but are also really difficult to grasp sometimes, the idea of math class is extremely stressful and they forget how to do basic stuff sometimes, etc, etc. Personally, dividing anything and fractions are extremely difficult to me, and as I've gotten older math has gotten harder and harder, but I'm actually pretty good at logical equations and thus if I have a formula guide with me I get great grades.

Anyway. Not knowing you have these issues is super fucking difficult to deal with, because you feel stupid and inadequate. "Why is my writing so ugly?" "Why do I have trouble with left and right?" "Why can't I do basic subtraction?" etc etc. I did ANYTHING to get out of writing assignments that I couldn't do on the computer, and even then I have to CONSTANTLY edit and rephrase my shit bc I get super ??? and write completely irrelevant words (but it doesn't hurt nearly as much, which is a plus!)

This is just... very important to keep in mind because it affects /everything/. If you have it and don't know, your quality of life can be a lot lower, esp if you're trying to go through school or become an artist of some sort, etc.

So, if you can, read over these sections of the Wikipedia info on both, and then do some research outside of that. I've watched a lot of videos and read a lot of articles on dysgraphia despite how many are just about children (unfortunately), and it's been extremely eye-opening. 

Thank you <3

(note: I wrote this status for Facebook so I forgot to mention, but by diagnosed I do mean self-diagnosis as well, you can have two or even all three of these disorders, and Jaydee is my sibling!)

PLEASE REBLOG THIS VERSION [link goes to a reblog regrading dyspraxia] IF YOU CAN, IT’S VERY IMPORTANT

#autism #adhd #actuallyautistic #actuallyadhd #dyslexia #dysgraphia #dyscalculia #dyspraxia

[juupajaa]

Hey, I was just wondering if you have any advice for exams? My exam block is 2 weeks away and these ones go towards the unis I can go to, so any and all advice is awesome and greatly appreciated!

Ok I'm so bad at studying but let's do this!

The first thing I do when I know I've got some burning hot studying to do is to make it a nice easy check up with my text book. I don't even mean to learn anything yet, I just eye the whole thing through and figure out what I already know.

I usually write down the things I already know on some piece of paper. For example, I just had philosophy exam and my list had some of the philosophers I already knew by name and what their thoughts were and some concepts and words that I knew already. So now I have this nice long list of stuff that I already know and I can feel a little less stressed bc I can see what I know (and how much I can skip when actually studying).

The next time I sit down to study, I write down the things I vaguely remember but aren't exactly sure about. I check up on those things and write short summaries or keywords down to explain/refresh them to myself. The next time I might be able to add some of them to my first list!

The third time is shitty bc it's the things I don't know anything about and by now I actually have to start studying😤

Reading is all fine and good but I honestly can't stand it. Unless it's a novel, I'm not interested. I like to use all sorts of whacky mnemonics when I'm studying. Like when I was studying Locke, Rousseau and Hobbes, I had trouble remembering who was who, since their ideas were fairly similar, so I made some rhymes to remember them by. Kinda like with bears, "if it's black fight back, if it's brown lie down". Or maybe you need to remember the difference between meteor, meteorite and meteoroid? Well take it from my girl Joanna Newsom "the meteorite is the source of the light, and the meteor's just what we see, and the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee". You can make rhymes of pretty much anything, even math formulas and if you've never used mnemonics before, a simple google search will help get you started with them.

Sometimes there's a list of words that you have to remember, like for example, in my exam I had to remember the words strength, authority and manipulation. I reduced them down to their first two letters and all I had to remember was "Stauma".

Sometimes memory aids make no sense but that's fine, as long as they help you remember something, it's all good.

Studying sucks sometimes but don't try to bang your head against the book if you know you're not learning anything by doing it. Take breaks, make lists, write notes, make games out of it, do whatever helps you. Reading is one of the most boring ways to learn things, so mix it up every now and then and remember to try to keep yourself from stressing out too hard. It's okay to not know everything. Good luck with the exams!!

#answered

[kae-karo]

my math class for this year is literally just called “mathematics” and apparently it’s like, a little bit of everything? i think there’s algebra, geometry, and possibly pre calc? idk i feel like it’ll be overwhelming. also, i think it’s hysterical how you’re just the go to math person lmao

awww the go to math person? i’m honored??? but uhhh that sounds mostly fun? i adored algebra and calc (precalc was a bit of a mess for me bc i was in the lowest level precalc class meant for graduating seniors like it was supposed to be minimal super easy stuff and i blew through it all and then i went from that into the highest level calc class the next year and it was….a mess. i needed a lot of tutoring) anyway. 

just take it one step at a time, math can be a bit overwhelming bc it’s like. a separate language and it takes a hot second to learn all the rules, but once you start to get the hang of it (just like a language) everything starts to make a bit more sense. the one tip i have for anything math-related when it comes to problem-solving is like. write down everything the problem tells you, write down everything you know that relates to whatever the problem tells you (formulas, etc), and then write down what you’re meant to be finding. then look at everything and see if there are some connections.

#math advice ig? lmao #anon #ask #kt #math

[hollohat]

Hello, tumblr!

Today, I’m going to talk about AP Calculus! It has a reputation as one of the hardest AP courses, not without desert; it is heavy with concepts and requires a high degree of proficiency in all the math that comes before it. It is also enormously useful for a variety of fields, from architecture to medicine, and can be a lot of fun to do! Some tips:

Prepare

Most AP Calc courses come after a substantial list of prerequisites: Algebra 1 and 2, Geometry, Trigonometry, and whatever your school calls the mish-mash of topics falling under pre-calculus. It is imperative to be comfortable with these when you start; calculus uses all of them.

Specifically:

Know. The. Trigonometric. Circle. Know it like the back of your hand (if you are someone who studies each detail of your hand carefully like the weirdo who came up with this saying)

Make sure you know the trigonometric identities too, back and forth.

You will need the formulas from Geometry. These aren’t as hairy as the trigonometric ones imo, but still good to know so you don’t have to relearn them later.

Make sure you are comfortable with algebraically changing expressions from one form to another. Factoring and reducing expressions will be super important.

If you have a hard time with any of these, it’s ok; you can review them! If you find that you have forgotten anything you need during your course, see if you can find some excercises in it online or in a book, and do a few so that you are comfortable with it.

Practice

AP Calc involves some proofs, but most of the course is about learning how to do specific types of operations. The best way to prepare is to just do the problems you are assigned for homework, then do more as time passes or if you have a hard time with a particular one.

Memorize formulas as they are introduced. Review them often. Do problems with them.

If you do not understand a concept:

Try to break down why. Do you understand part of it? Write down what you know. See what it is that is stopping you.

Try drawing a picture. Label it. See if you can relate your problem to the visual geometry.

Try working a problem. See where you stop understanding it. Ask yourself why you are doing each step. See if you can explain to yourself.

Look at a worked problem. Explain each step to yourself. See where you stop understanding.

If there a proof involved? Work through the proof, making sure you understand each step. This can give you a solid foundation.

Go to your teacher or a friend with specific questions.

The FRQs and MCQs from previous tests are a goldmine. Do every one you can get your hands on. For FRQs, compare your answers to the model answers given on the College Board website. Mark everything you do wrong. Try to remember it and do it right next time you do a similar problem.

FRQs are great because they tend to incorporate multiple concepts, giving you practice, and they also follow similar patterns. Getting used to those patterns is really helpful.

The Test

Do some full practice tests. Time yourself. Note the concepts you get wrong and review them. Ask someone about things that give you trouble.

Make sure you know all your formulas well.

Make sure you can do everything you will need to with your calculator.

Part of the test is no-calculator. Make sure you can do the sort of problems which appear there without your calculator.

When you take the test:

Sleep.

0/10 do not recommend late night cramming the night or two before the test.

Change your calculator’s batteries. Just so you’re certain it won’t die on you.

Have something to drink on you.

On the MCQs, skip problems you can't do quickly and come back to them. I recommend:

Doing all the easy problems first. The ones that you get instantly. Just read the rest.

Come back and do the ones you need some time for. Ignore any if you have no idea how start or take a lot of time.

Come back for these on the third pass.

They’re all worth the same amount, so don’t worry about specific ones; just get as many as you can right.

Show. You. Work. On the FRQs. Write down everything you can.

If you don’t know how to do the first part of a problem, but the second part relies on it, just pick a number you think is reasonable for the answer to the first part, and use it. You can still get credit for the second part if you use that number correctly.

Don’t stress out too much. Even if you feel terribly, it is quite possible that you did will.

For illustration, I took BC, and I literally cried after the test, because I thought I did terribly. I got a five. The percentage you need to get right to do well is low, and how you feel does not predict how you do.

Take a bit of time for yourself afterwards. It’s going to be May. The weather will be beautiful. Breathe it in. :)

my posts on:

ap in general

ap english literature

ap us history

#studyblr #advice #resources #ap calc #ap #school #studying #calculus #caffestudy #paperandcaffeine #elkstudies #heysareena #studyquill #studiix #lookheretay #lookstudyblr #snostalgic

[atesan]

yoi fic rec list, part 5

i’m providing commentaries this time bc damn it, my feels cannot be contained

For Him by justrae2010 / @justrae2010

When Yuuri takes a hard fall on the ice, at first glance he seems to be okay. It's only when he wakes up and doesn't recognise the affectionate silver haired stranger at his bedside that he realises just how wrong he is.

This is the story that makes me happy whenever I receive update notification bc it always happen when I wake up from sleep. I remember reading ch 9 and I was crying even before I was actually awake. I reread it again for feels but it could never beat what I felt the first time I read it. It’s been a regular routine, waking up from sleep and finding out that there’s a chapter update!

Chapter 10 turns me into a crying mess again but it’s adorable as well bc of what’s revealed. I won’t tell you why, so please read the story to find out why!

The story updated today with chapter 11 and I screamed in excitement, reading together with friends. Memory loss hurts, honestly, but I’m glad even when Yuuri can’t remember the details of the lost memories, he can create new memories.

But, Yuuri, running away halfway across the country because you think you are hurting Victor, it hurts me too ok.

centripetal force by braveten / @actualyuuri​

Victor speaks seven languages.

(Physics isn't one of them.)

Luckily, though, he ends up rooming with his antithesis: a shy, black-haired boy who just so happens to be a physics major.

I started reading this last night, from 1 am to 5 am. For those wondering why I was awake at such odd hours, 1) I already slept earlier, 2) I forgot to take my medicine, 3) I was hungry so I ate cookies and 4) I can’t sleep.

Honestly, this story is such a relaxing story to read. I have to agree with Victor on physics, though. I just don’t understand physics (I failed the subject in high school and barely passed in national exam), but I am also not good with maths and formulas. My friends who took physics said it’s easy if you understand the formulas and I was like, “You have got to be kidding me.“

I took nursing so thankfully, there’s no physics involved.

Halfway into the story, I was able to guess who Boxers Guy was (and I was like, omg, was it who I think it was?! and my friend was like hmmMNNNNNN) but the revelation hurt me just as it hurt Yuuri, especially when it’s followed up with a misunderstanding. Still, I was glad when everything was resolved!

I cried in relief (and I still don’t understand physics).

 The Selection by Galloping_Monroe / @gallopingmonroe-blog​

Returning home on the tail end of an injury that ends his dancing career, Yuri Katsuki is trying to find his future again. As a Five, he knows his options are limited, but when he finds an invitation to Crown Prince Victor Nikiforov's Selection, he is convinced by a friend to apply.

He never thought he'd be Selected.

When he is, he finds that his world is changed forever, and that the Crown Prince is not exactly what he'd expected.

I have come across this story a lot of times while I browsed AO3. The summary intrigued me but I didn’t read it until a few days ago. There’s 21 chapters and I devoured them within one day. Such a classic move from someone who could read 18 volumes of manga in just 3 days, or finish 24 episodes in just 3 days.

I find it cute that the characters we know are trying to win the heart of Prince Victor but Prince Victor only has eyes on one person and that person is so oblivious to this romantic attraction, thinking they are only friends.

JUST FRIENDS, YUURI? PLEASE.

I would have loved for Victor to end the Selection and just get married to Yuuri, but I applaud Yuuri for admitting that he still need time to get ready and Victor understands. Communication is important, folks.

I remember telling my friends I wished these two just kiss and in the chapter I was reading, they actually kissed. Who would have thought two characters kissing makes you feel all warm and fuzzy?!

The unresolved sexual tension, though.

Like a Fairytale by lucycamui / @lucycamui​

In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella' Yuuri.

(And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he's doing).

When my favourite fairytale combined with bakery goods, gosh!

My friend told me that I wouldn’t even notice I was at the end of the story until I reached the last chapter. I scoffed, saying NO WAY, but I was a fool, bc I didn’t even realize I was at the last chapter. Curse your speed reading skills, Zue!

I asked my friend, “Does this story has an evil stepmother?“ and it turned out the evil stepmother was Yuuri’s ball of anxiety. I’m so glad Victor never give up in finding his love. The rain scene where they kissed? IT WAS TOO SWEET!

But the true MPV of this story? PHICHIT!

Gosh, I never dreamed of a fairy!Phichit but I demand a fairy!Phichit now! The hamsters are so cute, too.

Kings in Couture by slightlied / @forovnix

a devil wears prada au in which victor is the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine, yuuri's his new secretary, and instead of talking about his feelings, victor just sends him on a bunch of errands

I was so giddy when I read the scene where Victor arrived and everyone was in panic, scurrying around making sure everything was perfect and ready for him while Yuuri just watched in confusion. (It’s such an iconic scene.)

My first thought when I saw the word ‘kic’ was, ‘what the heck is kic and why are ppl talking about kic fic?‘ but I wasn’t too concerned with it at the time so I didn’t bother finding out. Two weeks ago, I finally kicked myself into reading the story. I expected Victor to be mean to Yuuri but I saw cute interactions instead.

Yuuri’s tight jeans, though.

I browsed through 27 pages of the author’s kic tag while I was reading the story and I must say, the experience was glorious.

#yuri on ice #zue liveblogs yoi! #fic rec

[busylearningstuffrn]

hellooo i just finished my physics class and even though i enjoyed it a lot, it was intense. so here’s a bunch of my tips that helped me get through the year

HOMEWORK

DO YOUR HOMEWORK!! unless ur a literal prodigy the only way to really succeed in this class w studying the least and most effective amount is to do ur homework every night(esp for honors). my teacher only grazed it over and anyone who just wrote random things never got the grades they wanted despite how much they studied the night before.

prob-solving procedure

list your givens and what u gotta figure out it makes ur life sm easier

make sure all units match up and are SI

read the q carefully. if u don’t u could miss something or solve for the wrong thing

draw diagrams!!! they help so much and make sure to label everything (especially helpful for kinematics and forces)

keep a sheet for all the formulas that you received for the chapter next to you as you solve the problem. if your teacher requires that you memorize them, you can worry about that when you start reviewing the chapter. right now, just keep them next to you to make your life easier.

STUDYING 

u gotta be efficient when studying for physics bc just trying to memorize won’t get you anywhere if the majority of the test is open-ended math questions.

firstly, look over your notes to make sure you understand all the concepts. (if you don’t, stop and try to teach yourself it(resources are down below))

when going over the homework in class, circle the questions you had trouble understanding or got wrong. when reviewing for the test, do those questions over. if you got it right, you can move on.

 if you found that all the homework was pretty easy for that chapter and you got the majority of it right, then you can go back into the textbook to look for extras just to make sure you didn’t forget anything.

after i finish studying, i always like watching a crash course or skimming the textbook just to make sure I got all the concepts.

RESOURCES

crash course HIGHLY RECOMMEND they go through the topics pretty quickly but it’s great when you just want a 10 min review before you finish studying

khan academy great for when you don’t understand a concept

sparknotes

minute physics by far my favorite video explanations. this video made me really understand magnetism and for that, i am gr8ful.

i hope this was all a help :)

#pizza

[anotherpapercut]

yo how did you get good grades in math? i was meeting with a tutor 6 hrs a week throughout the spring semester and did good on the hw but i still failed all my tests but i need to pass calc 1 before i can take mechanical physics and move on w/ my major 🙁 (i also have dyscalculia and im still learning how to work around it)

so honestly the key to this is having a good understanding teacher. in high school I made really bad math grades despite loving and being pretty good at math and in college I've had great teachers and gotten good grades. now I'm gonna warn you this is difficult. I love math but my dyscalculia makes it take a while. I recommend finding out about an official diagnosis and getting accommodations such as extended time on tests and a formula card (basically what it sounds like. I get to write out formulas I need to memorize bc remembering formulas is impossible w dyscalculia lmao) if u havent already but beyond that heres a couple things that I do

-before you begin actually working out a problem especially if it's a word problem like any related rates problem, right down the initial numbers you need. then quadruple check these numbers because if you copy the problem wrong which I know for me happens frequently you're fucked

-if the problem involves a shape or graph of any kind (like in derivative applications or using integrals to determine volume etc) ALWAYS draw it. even a basic one. never underestimate the power of a good drawing with proper labeling

-reread the problem multiple times. each time keeping in mind how you might solve it make sure you understand it

-do not EVER try to remember a number. ever. if you need to keep a number in mind for any reason write it down and write exactly what you need it for. check a couple times to ensure its right

-dont be afraid to use your calculator for everything. and make sure you have an appropriate one. most good calculus calculators will solve indefinite integrals for you so you can check your work. most can also be used to repeatedly solve the same polynomial (ie when you have a polynomial and you need to plug multiple numbers into it you can use the calculator for this by writing out the function then storing a number this eliminates a lot of calculations that you do by hand thereby decreasing the risk of an error) also use your calculator for even small shit like addition. better safe than sorry and it doesn't count against you to do this

-speaking of calculators don't clear it! go back through the history to double check your numbers! it's easy to type stuff into the calculator wrong so you should always check the

-do each problem 3 or 4 times. like all the way through writing down each step. it's a pain in the ass esp in calc when you're doing different derivatives and integrals but it's the only way

-taking good notes is also rlly important. I bought a bunch of cheap colored and write everything in different colors which makes it way easier to read and understand. also it's a good idea to write your initial notes during the lecture then when you get home rewrite them a little better with more context and some homework problems

I'm not gonna lie to you man it's hard. it sucks that it's hard and that it takes so fucking long and there are some days worse than others and when that falls on a test day it gets harder. but I can't stress enough how important it is to talk your teacher and make sure you have all the accommodations you need.

oh and the website mathway is really cool for double checking your homework if you ever need smth like that

#long post #sorry if this is like all stuff u have tried #the truth is different things are gonna work for different people #i also happened to have a great calc teacher who did office hours where you could hang out and do ur hw and hed answer questions #definitely talk to ur teachers too about the problems ur having and if theyre not terrible they should help u #good luck anon! #ask #anonymous #answered #personal

[melodythehopeful]

Me.

My favorite color is blue but not like blue like light blue. Like the way the sky looks just before sun set. The light airy calm blue. My favorite book is Looking for Alaska for obvious reasons & if you haven't read it I have a copy you can borrow. I read the entire bible when I was 8 right before church because I thought it would make me a better person when it only made me wiser and filled me with unanswered questions. I love storms. I love the dark but I'm terrified of what's in it, or on the contrary what could be in it. I almost always only think of the future and what it holds. I say a lot of things I don't mean and don't say things I should. I change drastically each and every time a person leaves. I hate being psychoanalyzed but will be the first to do it to others. I don't draw or paint or anything because I find each mistake in all of it and hate it. I'm a very difficult person to deal with because I argue everything, feel the need to be right, get pissy when I know I'm right and no one listens, and I apologize for nothing all the time and then apologize for apologizing and so on. I hate myself more often than not. I love movies. Especially scary ones but I can't watch them alone bc I'm a baby. I don't follow sports because I hardly understand any of them. The only sport I know anything about is wrestling. I hate lots of people for lots of reasons and can't wait to leave this town/state/country. I've been in 4 car accidents 2 of which I have no memory. I have scars from scissors I should have never had access to. I want to be known for my writing but it shows too much vulnerability. I hate the word tangible. And the color indigo. I love learning new languages and tricks in math. I love math because there's always an answer and a formula to find it. It eases my anxiety and cures my headaches. It is the perfect distraction. I take mental illness very seriously. I often avoid socializing because I am so exhausted after but I know if I completely skip out I'll be miserable and regret not going. There are very few things and people who aren't mentally exhausting to be around and with and such. I used to never go outside because I thought I would catch the plague. I complain about everything. Out of all of the seasons fall is my favorite but not when it's getting really cold. Just on the brink of winter and summer where it's nice to be outside if you have a nice sweater or something & the leaves are crunchy underneath your feet & the trees are colorful & it's like a painting. And my life is a complicated mess that only surfaces my memory when bad things happen and yeah.And there are certain physical pains I let be without medication as a constant reminder that I am real and alive and here. I'm easy to get along with if you can get used to my repetitiveness and constant talk or death and hatred. I don't actually hate anyone except my birth mother. Hate means caring about someone's existence and putting thought into it and I'm not giving someone that satisfaction. And the only reason I hate my birth mother is because she haunts my life daily with the things she put me through. That is me.