#failing the class with a 90 in the midterm .

[sv3t1ana]

SYNOPSIS ᯓ In your college math class, you’ve always seen Choso as the quiet, nerdy guy who kept to himself. He was the one with perfect grades and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. When your midterm grades don’t reflect your effort, you ask him to tutor you.

PAIRING ᯓ Tutor! NerdCho x fem! reader

WARNINGS ᯓ SMUT MDNI, college AU, VIRGIN CHOSO, tw: calculus </3, you take his virginity, you make him call you "good girl," you make him tutor you during it, lots of consent, unprotected piv sex, eye contact, sweet ending, fluff, PORN WITH PLOT, reader is very sweet with nervous shy Choso.

WORD COUNT ᯓ 6.0k

Your head rests in your hands, drowning out the noise of pens moving, glossing over the set of calculus problems sat in front of you. At this point you don’t know why you still try. You’ve failed every assignment so far, and the midterm went so horribly you had to physically go outside and touch grass to keep yourself from becoming too depressed about it.

Most of the class either had their heads in their phone or pretending to follow along, and then there’s Choso. You noticed him immediately, he was always on task, scribbling notes, glasses perched on his nose, he looked like the kind of guy who sleeps with a textbook under his pillow. It looked like math was as easy as breathing for him, and you couldn’t comprehend why someone would actually care about this stuff.

-----

Choso noticed you on day one, your hair perfectly blown out, pink manicured nails, coffee in hand, about 10 minutes late. He noticed even sooner that you struggled, the way you’d roll your eyes and cock your head back dramatically in the middle of an in-class assignment, or when you’d pull your laptop out to check your test scores just to sigh loud enough for everyone to hear.

You were exactly his type. Well, not that he had a type per se, and not that he’s ever so much as shook hands with the opposite sex, but you were too attractive for him not to like you. When you spoke up it made his heart stutter, the way you squinted your eyes and brows furrowed in concentration made his stomach flip, the perfume you wore blessing his lungs.

He knew you were never the type of girl to talk to him. Not when he overheard you talking with your friends outside the classroom about some party.

“I’m telling you, you need to go all out for this Halloween party. It’s gonna be crazy. What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I’ve got the perfect thing. A super slutty devil outfit. You know, a skirt, corset, fishnets.”

He nearly passed out visualizing you in that outfit, how your thighs would look restrained by fishnets, a corset that would cinch your waist dangerously thin and probably make your tits pop out, but he was in the middle of class, and he already told himself he’d stop getting boners in the middle of class.

It was too much for him, why did you have such a tight hold on his heart when you’d never speak to him? It just made his self-confidence dwindle, as if he couldn’t become more of a coward.

-----

It was about three weeks out from the final, and thank god these websites existed online that could tell you what you needed to score on the final to pass the class.

Unfortunately for you, you scored a measly 11/100 on the midterm, meaning you’d need at least 90/100 to pass the class with a 70%, and hell would freeze over before you taught yourself calculus topics well enough to score that high on the final.

It was a Monday, and you were feeling the aftermath of a Sunday darty a little too strongly. You might’ve slept in a bit too much, and honestly, you didn’t care. Attendance was a grade booster, and you weren’t about to let those free points slip through your fingers. You walked into class, hair a mess, dressed in the baggiest sweatpants and the most oversized hoodie you could find.

The second you stepped through the door you didn’t miss the way Choso’s eyes widened as they locked on your disheveled state. You barely spared him a glance as you shuffled to your seat, exhaling loudly in relief that you even made it here at all.

But, of course, the universe wasn’t quite done with you yet.

You reached for your bag, only to realize, fuck, you forgot your pens and pencils.

You giggled to yourself getting out of your seat and walking over to him.

“Can I bother you for a pen?” you asked, voice smooth and sweet, flashing him a playful puppy-dog look.

Choso’s face turned pink, and he immediately froze up. “U-um, yeah, of course.” His voice cracked, and you could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. His posture straightened, like your words sent a jolt of electricity through him.

His hand trembled slightly as he handed you the nicest pen in his collection, like it was a prized possession.

You grinned, “Thanks!” Then, just as you were about to turn back to your desk, you stopped mid-step and spun around on your heel, catching him completely off guard.

Your eyes locked onto him again, serious expression on your face as he nearly jumped out of his seat. “Oh, wait. What did you get on the midterm?”

He fidgeted, averting his gaze and adjusting his glasses nervously. “Oh, uh.. 100.”

He said it like it was the most casual thing in the world. You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Okay, genius.”

-----

For the next week after that, every time you entered the class Choso was always there first, so you spared him a smile and wave.

At first, he didn’t know you were even waving at him, looking behind him like there must be someone else more worthy of your attention, just to be met with the wall of windows behind where he sat, and you were, in fact, waving to him. He lifted his hand nervously, a timid smile curving his lips, waving back as you set your drink on your desk and prepared for another grueling lecture.

It was becoming more real, finals two weeks out, and you just failed every assignment last week, it was not looking good for you.

Until, a devilish smile spread across your face as an idea popped into your head, almost a physical light bulb appearing above your head because your scheme was just that great.

You had it all planned out. Step one, wear the thinnest, tightest, most revealing top you had. Step two, ask Choso to tutor you. How could it go wrong?

-----

It was just another normal day to Choso, or at least as normal as it could be when the girl he’d spent the last few months secretly pining for had started waving at him almost every day. That had become his new normal, and it still made his heart race every time.

But that day, you walked in, and everything changed.

You wore a pair of tight jeans and a button-up short-sleeved top that was a little too tight across the chest. The last button on your shirt barely held on, the fabric straining over the curve of your breasts, and he had to swallow to keep himself from completely losing it.

“Your name’s Choso, right?” you asked, voice sweet, eyes locked on his, and oh god, you looked so cute.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, cheeks warming.

“Well, I was wondering...” you propped your hands on your knees, bending down to his level, but with the angle you were leaning, your tits were the first thing he saw rather than your face. His eyes shot to the floor. “Would you be willing to help tutor me so I can pass this final?”

You clasped your hands together in front of your chest, bottom lip jutting out as you tilted your head, looking at him with the kind of pleading gaze he couldn’t say no to. “Pleeaseee?”

And oh god, you were begging him. He could hardly breathe, his heart pounding so hard it might’ve leapt right out of his chest.

His face was a deep crimson, ears nearly exploding off his head, “U-um, sure, I-I can help.”

You smiled so brightly that it took all of his willpower not to melt. “Great! Thanks!” you cheered, jumping in excitement.

Shit, holy shit, when you jumped your boobs were bouncing right in his face. Brain short-circuiting, he had to look away, he had to. There was no way he could survive this.

Of course you noticed. “Here, put your number in my phone so I can text you later,” you winked.

He hesitatingly took your phone in his hand, fingers trembling.

All of this. All of this in one day?

First you waved at him, then you wore that outfit, and then you said you’ll text him? It was all over for him at this point. His life was officially over.

-----

It was late at night when you texted, the first text Choso had ever got from a non-family member.

“hey Choso, when can we start the tutoring?”

He kept typing out the message, deleting it, typing it out, deleting it, damn near 15 minutes go by before he actually responded.

“I’m free after class tomorrow if that works for you. I can meet you at the library or somewhere on campus.”

Your response coming almost immediately.

“i was thinking maybe we could do it at your dorm? quieter and more focused, you know?”

At his dorm? It was almost 1:00 AM and he was already cleaning.

“Uh, yeah, that works. My dorm is fine. I’ll text you when I get back.”

You flipped over in your bed, feet kicking in the air and giggling to yourself. Ugh, you loved making boys nervous. There was just something about Choso that made you want to corrupt him, smash his glasses with your heel and make him do your homework for the rest of his life.

-----

You spent all day in your room, holding different shirt options to your body in front of the mirror in anticipation of your first tutoring session. You really did need the help, but what girl didn’t want to look her best with her new male tutor?

You were so giddy about it you skipped all of your classes for the day, this was such an important event for you.

-----

You plucked at the hem of your shirt, dragging the fabric between your fingers as Choso flips through his notes. His dorm was neat, neater than you expected. His bed was all made, desk clean of clutter, trashcan empty, it made you giggle, actually. He did all this for you.

You grinned at him, “you look nervous.”

He adjusted his glasses, deadpanning you. “I’m not.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head at him and squinting your eyes. “Right. So you’re just gripping that pen like it’s your last lifeline?”

Choso glanced down, loosening his grip slightly which made you smile. “Let’s just start. What’s the derivative of 3x cubed?”

You hummed, tapping your lips in exaggerated thought. “Mmm… seven?”

“No.” He replied flatly.

You laughed, leaning forward on his desk. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

Choso paused for half a second, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tenses.

He exhaled through his nose, ignoring your comment. “Try again.”

You stretched back in your chair, throwing your arms over your head. “God, this is so hard. My brain just doesn’t work like yours, y’know?”

Choso stares at you, expression unreadable as he flips to a new page in his notebook and scribbles something down, sliding it toward you.

You glance down. A problem is written out step by step, clear, easy to follow. For all his awkwardness, he’s patient. You expected him to break first.

“You know, Choso, I think you might actually be a good tutor.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “that was kinda the point.”

The first tutoring session played out like this, your impatience clashing with his steady calm, laced with sharp-edged banter. In the end, you did pick up a few things, one of them being that your new favorite pastime was making him tremble.

When the session finally wrapped up, you stretched, shirt riding up just enough to make his gaze snap to the desk. “Alright, I think that’s enough for today. I’d say I earned a lot,” you mused, voice thick with fake amusement.

Choso swallowed, not knowing if you meant calculus or something else entirely. “Uh, yeah. Just keep practicing.”

You shot him a lazy smile, telling him how good of a tutor he was and letting his name roll off your tongue. You knew what you did to him.

Later that night you sat in bed, laptop open and textbook in front of you, shooting him a text.

“why is math even a requirement for me. be fr rn. i just tried to do one problem and just stared at it for five minutes before giving up. i am beyond saving.”

“You are not beyond saving. You just need more practice.”

“nerd. okay but seriously, how do you not struggle at all? i bet you could do derivatives in your sleep.”

“I mean, probably. It’s just simple pattern recognition.”

“well the only pattern i recognize is me bombing every exam.”

“That’s why we’re tutoring, right? You’ll get it.”

“you have so much faith in me, it’s almost cute.”

Choso stared at his screen for way too long, rereading your words like they might change if he blinked enough. Cute. Him cute? Well, almost cute. But still. Cute.

“You’re not as hopeless as you think. Just need a better way to approach the problems.”

“aww lol u really care huh? so sweet :)”

He immediately regretted everything.

“Just get some sleep.”

He hesitated before sending another text. He really, really shouldn’t do it.

“Good night.”

Stupid, why would he send that?

“goodnight, Choso <3”

He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a shaky exhale. His heart hammering in his chest, fingers gripping the phone so tightly he thought it might crack.

He cursed under his breath, forcing himself to set the phone down. But he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. His thoughts racing, a chaotic swirl of “she’s teasing” and “she’s just being nice” then “no, she’s probably messing with me.”

But what if you weren't?

His heart skipped as he tried to lie still, the faintest tremble in his legs and hands betraying his calm exterior. He squeezed his eyes shut, sweat beading on his forehead, heat creeping up his neck, skin burning with embarrassment.

You idiot. Why did you say anything?

The words “good night” had felt like an eternity before he hit send, and now that it was done he couldn’t help but question everything.

He grabbed his chest, clutching it like he could contain the frantic rhythm of his pulse. Was he too forward? Too weird?

God, this is so stupid.

But he remembered how you smiled earlier, how you looked at him like you wanted to keep going. That thought alone was enough to make his heart beat faster. He groaned into his pillow, clenching his fist around the sheets, unsure of how much longer he could survive this.

-----

Today was your second tutoring session with Choso, looking forward to it because you knew the chaos you were about to stir.

It wasn’t just the subject that had you on edge, it was the way he made you feel when he tried so hard to maintain his composure, and how cute he looked when you knocked him off balance.

You picked out a low-cut top that left just enough to the imagination. The black fabric clung to your body, outlining every curve, and the thin straps only accentuated the subtle shift in your posture as you moved. Paired with denim shorts that were just a liiitle too short for your liking.

Oh you were definitely going to enjoy this.

When you arrived at his dorm, he greeted you at the door, eyes widening just a fraction as they flicked to your outfit. His face flushed and he nervously cleared his throat.

“Hey,” you greeted, casually walking in and trying your best to act nonchalant, the little smile tugging at the corner of your lips betraying you. “So… what are we doing today?”

His voice was a little too strained. “Uh, w-we’re going over limits and derivatives,” he darted his eyes around the room. “You, uh… you ready?”

You couldn’t help but notice how stiff he was, how his posture was unnaturally rigid like he was trying not to make any sudden movements. His eyes kept flicking up and down between your face and anywhere else on your body, his gaze lingering too long on your chest, hands twitching at his sides.

You raised an eyebrow as you took a seat, smiling at him so warmly you looked like a beautiful renaissance painting. And Choso tried so hard not to look at you directly, his fingers shaky as they reached for his textbook.

You leaned forward, making sure to get just a bit closer than necessary, your bare knee brushing against his as you settled in. You watched how he stiffened, body going tense as if he were holding himself together by sheer willpower.

“You look distracted,” you quipped, and oh, you just looked so pretty, sitting so close to him, hair framing your face perfectly, long lashes fluttering in his direction like you didn’t know what you did to him.

He blushed again, immediately averting his stare. His words stammered as he tried to focus. “N-no, I’m not distracted! Just trying to make sure I can explain this correctly.”

You bit your lip, savoring the moment. Watching him squirm under your teasing felt way too good. You really liked this.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” You said it with a mischievous glint in your eyes, turning your body to face him more directly and leaning in, hands in your lap so your arms accidentally pushed your boobs together. “I think I’m distracting you.”

You could practically feel the sweat beading his hairline. His voice cracked when he spoke, “No! I’m fine, I-I can do this.”

He cleared his throat again, turning the pages of his textbook with a little more force than necessary. Without thinking, you reached your arm forward, one of your elbows accidentally brushing against his arm as you reached for the textbook.

You don’t know if he actually gasped or you just fantasized that.

His hand landed clumsily on your thigh, just below the hem of your shorts. His fingers were warm, thick, long, you could feel his pulse beneath his skin, fast and erratic. His eyes were wide, mouth agape staring at his hand like it just committed a heinous crime. You had to fight to keep your expression neutral, but a part of you want to grab his hand to keep it there as he drew away.

“Uh!” He stammered, yanking his hand away so quickly it felt like he burned himself. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- I wasn’t-”

You smiled, leaning back casually. “It’s fine. Really,” you said, your voice sweet like honey. “You can touch me anytime.”

As if his blush couldn’t get any deeper, his mouth opened to say something but the words seemed to fail him as he returned fumbling with the pages of his textbook. Hands even more jittery than before.

You sighed, humming to yourself, taking in the sight of his discomfort with an unrelenting smile. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

The tutoring session stretched on longer than either of you expected, filled with more awkward moments and persistent tension. But despite the longing glances and missteps, you could kind of understand unit 1. Progress. A small victory.

----

It was the morning before your final, and your bed felt like the only thing worth living for. The world outside was bustling and you couldn’t care less. You tossed and turned, half-heartedly kicking off your blankets and throwing your pillows across the room as if it were the source of all your problems. Maybe if I break the pillow, you thought in a daze, I’ll magically forget I have to study.

The snooze button was your best friend but it wasn’t doing you any favors today. You were stuck in a loop of staring at the ceiling and wishing for the sweet release of sleep, but even then, your mind couldn’t settle. Your brain refusing to focus on anything other than the thought of seeing Choso later. It shouldn’t have been that exciting, but you were feeling a little giddy. Maybe it was his nervous, earnest energy, or how adorably flustered he always got around you. Whatever it was, you had to admit: you were looking forward to tutoring today… just not the actual studying part.

As you got yourself ready for the day, your phone buzzed, and it was a message from Choso.

“Ready for tutoring?”

You stared at it for a while. You really didn’t want to study. But the thought of seeing him so pliant, of making him fidget like he always did, was enough to pull you out of your pit of dread.

-----

You barely looked at your notes, instead keeping your gaze on him. You pouted, jutting out your bottom lip, not bothering to hide the irritation building inside of you.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you groaned, slouching and folding your arms. “Can’t I just not? I mean what’s the point?”

Choso hesitated, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I- well, I think it would help if we just focused a little longer. You’ve made progress.”

But that didn’t help your mood. You puffed out your bottom lip even more. “Ugh, no. I don’t wanna,” you whined, catching his eyes with yours, watching him fumble with the pen in his hands.

You extended an arm, resting your hand on the nape of his neck playing with the stray hairs that fell from his buns. “Come on, Choso. Tell me I’ve been a good girl today. I deserve it for actually showing up.”

He froze, breath hitching. There was a moment of silence before he pushed his glasses up. “I-I… You’ve been good,” he mumbled.

You tilted your head at him, still twirling his hair between your fingers. “No, I’ve been a good girl, right?”

His lips parted, looking at you shyly when you began tracing circles on his upper back with your nails, causing a shiver to visibly run through his body. “Yes… you’ve been a- a good girl.”

You smiled softly at him. “Thanks, Cho, but I really don’t wanna study today,” you said, voice melodious.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, cut off from whatever else he was going to say when you stood from your chair, throwing a leg over his lap and straddling him.

“W-we need to study,” he said, expression pure as he looked at you, he really had no choice to, you took up his entire vision, nonetheless sat on his lap. Your breasts were squished against his hard chest, your erect nipples poking from your shirt, which he saw you wore no bra.

“Chooo,” you said in a sing-songy voice, bringing your glossed lips inches away from his. “If you really wanna study that bad then fine, but I deserve a reward.”

“A-a reward-”

You brought your lips to his in a sweet, delicate kiss, testing the waters. He halted for a beat before returning the kiss, not knowing exactly what he’s supposed to be doing and accidentally using way too much teeth.

You couldn’t help but giggle, wrapping your arms around his suspiciously broad shoulders, momentarily breaking the kiss. “Jeez, you work out or something?” You asked, leaning back to eye him as your hands traveled his shoulders, squeeze his biceps, caress his chest.

“U-um,” he didn’t have time to respond before you kissed him again. This time, your lips parted to lick his, grazing your teeth over his bottom lip before bringing it into your mouth to lightly bite it. He groaned in response, instinctively bringing his hands up to rest modestly high on your back.

You hummed into his mouth, retracting your hands to guide his, helping him to find purchase on your ass. “You can touch me, Cho,” you said gently, moving your hips higher on his lap.

He nearly whimpered feeling your body weight on his erection, involuntarily squeezing you as your hips grind on his, planting wet kissing along his jaw and neck.

You laughed to yourself, he was so adorable like this. He had no idea what to do, no idea how to kiss, where to put his hands. It was so precious, and it made the heat in your center burn even more.

“Take my shirt off,”

“A-are you sure? I mean, we need to-”

“Pleeeaseee, Cho?” You gave him that pout again, that look with wide, sad eyes that he couldn’t resist. Your existence just made this a losing game for him, and his palms were already sweaty peeling the fabric off your body, letting out a shaky inhale at the sight of your pert nipples, rotund breasts that were just begging him to touch.

“You- you’re beautiful,” he said under his breath, unable to take his gaze away from your bare body before him, he could tell your skin was delicately soft without even touching it.

“You really think so?” A brush spread across your cheeks, your arousal soaking your panties watching him completely awestruck. “You can touch them, it’s okay.”

He cupped your breasts with either hand, kneading them and letting the tissue pillow between his fingers in his grasp.

“Put one in your mouth,” your voice was so sweet, so sugary guiding him through the normal bouts of foreplay.

And he did just that, lowering his head to meet your breasts and sucking so tactfully like you were a precious heirloom that’d break if he was too rough.

“You can be more rough, I’m okay, I promise.” He looked up at you questionably, before he used the flat of his tongue in long strokes over your nipple, taking his time to relish in this moment, savoring the taste of your skin on his tastebuds. He used the tip of his tongue to toy with your nipple, drawing shapes on it which only made you arch your back into him, threading your fingers in his hair.

He just kept going at it, switching between them making sure they both got the same love before you had to tell him to stop, the teasing stimulation making you so antsy sitting on his clothed cock.

You removed his shirt next, revealing his chiseled chest and abs, your mouth watering at the sight. You licked stripes up his neck, sucking on his pulse points and biting as he melted under you. You’d give him a bite, smooth it over with your tongue, plant kisses on it, then give him a hickey.

By the end of this he’d be littered with them, marked as yours.

Your bare breasts on his skin was making him feral, he never in a million years thought this was how he’d spend the end of his sophomore year in college. He thought he’d have to pay someone in order to lose his virginity, probably spend the rest of his life alone as his awkwardness made it impossible to talk to women. But here you were, half-naked and gyrating your hips on his erection. Let alone a woman as beautiful as you, someone he fell in love with the moment you opened your lips for him.

“Should we study, Cho?” You ask, looking up at him from where you left traces of yourself on his body.

“Uh, s-study?” His breath was nearly gone, lost in thought about how he had to be the luckiest man in the world to somehow sign up for the same math class as you.

“Yeah,” you planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “We can start studying now,” you began getting off his lap, and he was trying to devise a plan on how to get through a tutoring session with the ache in his pants, that was until you slipped your shorts off, panties landing on the floor with them.

Oh.

Oh.

When you straddled him again, your slick arousal was already forming a spot on his pants.

“U-um,” he stuttered, pushing up his glasses. His blush started at his appled cheekbones, ending somewhere his happy trail ran under his pants. Somewhere you were so desperate for. “I thought, you wanted to-”

“We’ll study,” you said, caressing his muscled form, using your nail to trace down his chest, then his abs. “Is it okay if I unbutton your pants?”

He bobbed his head up and down almost frantically, his mouth drooling at you fully naked, fully naked on top of him. He pinched the underside of his leg to make sure this wasn’t a dream, his head had been spinning from the moment you touched him.

You deftly unbuttoned his pants, unzipping and letting him shimmy his way out of them. You palmed the very large erection over his boxers, running your hands up and down his length. His head dropped forward, having to suck in breaths to avoid whining like a virgin when you haven’t even touched skin yet. Your fingers were so delicate yet your grip on him was firm, working him over the cloth that covered his most sensitive area and toying with his leaking tip, letting a wet spot appear under the waistband of his boxers.

It was then that you popped his cock out, eyeing the veins that ran up and down his length, his nearly crimson tip, swollen in hopeless desire for release. His balls were so tight, you massaged them with one hand as the other started jerking him slowly, almost painfully. You brought your lips to his again, absorbing all of his whimpers in your mouth and kissing back with addiction.

He tasted sweet, his luscious lips and wet tongue saccharine on your tastebuds. He was so addictive. A man so flexible under your insatiable presence, you removed his glasses and pushed his bangs out of his face, beautiful chestnut brown eyes that looked at you with so much love and desire.

You lifted your hips, “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

He nodded intensely, eyes locked on yours with his brows barely pinched together when you teased his tip, running it between your slick and spreading your wetness all over. He was practically pleading you with his eyes, not able to say a word as he let you take the lead.

You sunk down on him slowly, letting him feel all of you and the way your tight walls stretched for his thickness so perfectly, it was like you were made for him.

“Ngh­- what is it- fuck- that we need to study?” You asked, breathless, dumbstruck when you bottomed out, his tip poking your cervix as you sat, unmoving.

He stilled for a moment, hesitating in the other-worldly pleasure your pussy offered. You broke him out of his spell when you skimmed your thumb lightly over his cheek, bringing his attention back to reality.

“I-integrals,” he spluttered. “You need to learn- mmh- integrals.”

You started moving your hips slowly mid-sentence, an unhurried tempo so you could watch how he breaks for you.

“Mmm, start explaining it.” You grabbed his hands that gripped the armrests of his chair, bringing them back to your ass, his grip tightening immediately, squeezing the fat firmly with his rough hands.

“Integrals are- hah- the opposite of- hngh-”

“Mhm? Opposite of?” You were sweating, willing yourself to keep a languid tempo and not fuck him how you wanted. He was a virgin after all, and one that was so smitten with you, you loved dragging it out, loved the attention he gave you.

“Th-they’re the opposite of- of derivatives,” his grasp on you only tightening, it was aching, throbbing inside you as you tenderly lowered your hips each time, slowly feeling him getting harder and harder, it was a battle with himself not to cry out.

You leaned in close, your hands cradling his face like he was some delicate artwork, “you’re so big inside me,” you brought your lips to his. He was in a total state of catatonia, your walls milking him with each descent, a puddle of your arousal and his pre drenching the curls at his base. “Aren’t you, Cho?”

You just held his face in your hands, he was so angelic when he was fucked out, bangs sticking to his forehead that you move out of the way for him, skimming your thumbs over his cheeks, a sheen of sweat coating his face.

“A-and,” he began, the grasp he had on your body frantic as he took in more of you, filling his palms with your curves and spreading you wide for him in attempt to feel more. He loved you so much in this moment, he wished he could live inside your skin. “They’re the- the total- mmpf- accumulation over an interval.”

“You’re so sexy when you- ugh- explain things,” you sped up the tempo slightly, just barely, but enough to heighten the carnality, enough to tighten the coil in your abdomen. “Give me an example.”

He was completely hunched over, his head resting on your shoulder as you worked your hips. He was barely able to form a coherent thought let alone do math.

“U-uh, an example?” He huffed out.

“Mhm, give me an example baby.”

“The integral of- haah- x is x squared over 2.” His face was contorted, lips sucked in, brows pinched tightly, nose scrunched as he wallowed in the pleasure, how you only seemed to get more wet the more time that passed, his multiple releases of pre making your entrance so slick, so easy for you to slide up and down his length.

“Cho,” you looked at him with big eyes, grasping his forearm. “Cum with me, touch me here,” you brought his hand to your clit, showing him a circling motion with his thumb.

“Here?” he asked breathlessly, almost jumping out of his skin at the thought of making you cum with his fingers and cock.

“Yes, mmm, just like that, more pressure,” you coached him.

His thumb was circling your clit now, adding the pressure that you pleaded for. His other hand rested lovingly at your back, and you bounced rapidly on him, your thighs slapping his with each fall of your hips. Your hands gripped his shoulders for support, his muscled physique flexing under you as he climbed closer to climax.

You both reach your breaking point at the same time, maintaining eye contact over clouded vision. Your walls milked him for all he had and more, body quivering as you bellowed deeply, all of the stress and tension leaving your body being stretched by his thick length, no choice but to hit your g-spot because of his size. He worked you through it, urgently rubbing you with his thumb while he squeezed his eyes shut, twitching violently inside you releasing his rich seed, no doubt entering your womb.

You both came down from your high together too, foreheads resting as you caught your breath, his dick refusing to go flaccid as you sat still on it.

“Cho,” you looked up at him, tears pricking your eyes and smudging your makeup. “I want to be with you,” you pleaded.

He looked at you so worryingly yet so tenderly, he put a hand at the back of your head, bringing you to his chest so he could hold you close.

“I want to be with you too.” He added.

-----

You took the final the next day, then found yourself sitting on Choso’s dorm room floor with the final grades one click away. Your finger hovered over the screen before finally tapping, the number appearing in bold.

38/100

Silence.

Choso, ever the supportive boyfriend, started gently, “it’s okay, babe, I’ll help you study next ti-”

“LET’S GOOO!” You shouted, pumping your fists in the air like you’d just won the lottery.

He flinched at your sudden outburst, staring at you like you’d completely lost your mind. “Wait, what?”

“I did better than last time!” You grinned, spinning to face him.

His brows lifted in disbelief, mouth opening then closing. You still failed terribly.

Before he could find the words, you launched yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. “You can still tutor me!”

He let out a small, helpless laugh, arms instinctively wrapping around your waist. He sighed, pressing his hands tighter.

“I’ll always tutor you.”

A/N: i'm just sitting here giggling at this because choso really is a horrible tutor. like reader girl already had no hopes, but he just let her ride him instead of studying the DAY BEFORE the final... but this is smut, and the integral of x is actually (x^2/2)+C

[mantas-ray]

summary. viktor is distracting and you give him a taste of his own medicine

tags. gn!reader, academic rivals to ???, kissing, no smut. i’ve never written for vik so this is me pre-gaming for the request i got. constructive critisim is welcomed !

You’ve been staring at the 71 on the paper for the entire class, and your frown deepens each minute that ticks by. You can feel Viktor’s gaze on you as he periodically glances back. It irritates you further.

The bastard knew he got a better mark than you, judging by the grimace on your face. However, he isn’t aware that your grade is way worse than either of you expected. You are better than this. This was your best class. You’ve averaged in your 90s, never dipping below 80. It was your best class until Viktor decided to take the same course at the start of the new academic year.

When class is over, you crumble the offending test in your hand. It was his fault. The way his pretty eyes light up and the stupid smirk on his face when he one-ups you. It was all you thought about during the midterm. You refuse to blame yourself for your own thoughts.

The look he gave you before your last midterm has been stuck in your mind for the past few days. Viktor knows what he does to you. He had to. He’s intelligent, but so were you. There’s no way he didn’t like you at least a little. He enjoyed ‘annoying’ you. That’s what he likes to think it was. Viktor’s bothersome nature to you, since he thought of you as competition, was an excuse to get closer to you. Maybe it was delusional, but you think you were vigilant.

The lecture hall was almost empty, yet Viktor waited for you. You slung your bag over one of your shoulders as you approached him.

“You seem pleased with yourself,” you grumbled, and Viktor’s smirk widened.

“Why would I be?” he responds. You roll your eyes and give your paper ball to him. In return, he passes you his exam, pristine with only one fold. You open it, revealing a nearly perfect score — a 97. No way.

You look at him as he unravels the crumpled-up piece of paper, smoothing out the creases. His brows quirk in surprise at the mediocre mark, and you wince, definitely not your best work.

“This is your fault, you know,” you say, handing him his exam paper. “You’re distracting.”

“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” Viktor replies. You wanted simultaneously to throttle and kiss him.

You weren’t mad. You knew your head wasn’t in the game when you wrote that paper, but it didn’t hurt any less. It was still a decent mark, given the class’ average of 53. However, you weren’t slightly better than average. You were supposed to excel.

He gives you back yours, and you ball it up again, shoving it into the pocket of your uniform trousers. You intended to throw it out on your way to your next class, and coincidentally, Viktor had a midterm afterwards. It makes it all the more confusing why he’d wait for you if he had better matters to attend to.

“Why don’t I even the playing field?” you asked. You shuffled closer to him, but he didn’t back away; instead, he leaned closer as he supported himself on his cane. Your faces were mere inches apart.

Viktor was curious about what you meant by your words. However, he didn’t expect your lips to brush against his as you moved closer. Viktor’s eyes widen, yet he refuses to shift away. You took it as a sign and pressed your lips to his.

Viktor’s lashes flutter close, and his cane drops to the floor with a faint clack emanating throughout the empty lecture hall as he cups your face. You taste coffee on his tongue and desperation on his lips. The kiss was swift, ending as quickly as it happened, and weakly, he tried to chase you as you parted from him.

As you bend down to retrieve his fallen cane, Viktor tries to process the situation. His eyes follow your every move. If you planned to temporarily rewire his brain, you succeeded.

You return his cane to his grasp and walk to the exit of the room, your shoulder brushing against his as you call out, “Good luck in your midterm, Vik.”

[sunflower-author]

HI i've been obsessed with akaashi atm so could you do yandere akaashi

he'd be such a sneaky yandere since he's so observant and memorises your little mannerisms and personality. he knows just what to say to you and other people as well to get you all to himself

anyway idm what you do, have fun with it!! hope you have a good day <33

SORRY IK IT IS SUPER LATE, AND I TRULY WANTED TO DO THIS!!

ALSO I WAS RAMBLING A LOT BUT HOPE YOU LIKE IT;)

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

      It's a Friday and school just ended, you go to the usual spot to meet Akaashi before he has to practice. A bench under the tree, on the opposite side of the gym, giving you guys time to talk, before making it to the gym.

After some time you see Akaashi turn the corner, from sitting on the bench you stand up to greet him. Smiling as you make your way toward him. 

"There you are, I was wondering if you ever were gonna come," you say jokingly.

"Sorry, that was my bad I was caught up with some schoolwork," Akaashi says. In reality, he was writing in his notebook about you. He has a notebook, where he keeps specific tabs about you. Your likes and dislikes, also including plans about what he would want in the future, plans like...

.

.

.

"Y/N, I was wondering if after practice today, would you want to come over to my house to study?" Akaashi says walking.

"Sure, our AP test is coming up, and I'll be lucky if I get 3/5," you say shyly, following after him. (Headcanon that Akaashi takes AP classes) *ALSO I SWEAR I'M GONNA FAIL THAT TEST!!!*

"No comment," Akaashi says as he continues to walk.

"Hey why'd you say that?" you ask, confused and a bit offended.

"Well.. what did you think I would say?" Akaashi asks curious.

"I don't know, just not that, maybe something encouraging at least," you say, trying to defend yourself.

"If I say something encouraging either one, you would hype yourself up thinking your gonna do well,  then do just below that, and get all sad and guilty," 

"When have I ever done anything like that?" you ask not believing that you would do anything like that.

 "Remember your Biology finial, you said that you wanted to get at least a 90, I said how you've been studying so your gonna do amazing, but then you got 89. You ended up with a B for that class, you stayed in you room a whole week during summer, all depressed."

"It dropped my perfect GPA," you say defending yourself.

"Or two, you would study all the time till you only do well on that one test and forget about the rest, before you say anything, midterms... Your lucky it was only midterms."

"That only happened once," In your defense you learned never to try that again.

Rolling his eyes he finally says "Or three, if I encourage you right now, you might not take studying seriously and think you can just wing the test, and therefore end up failing."

"Oh yeah.. I do that one a lot don't I," you say embarrassed.

"You have been improvising a lot more than you usually have, now that I think about it, is something wrong?" Akaashi asks concerned.

"Oh.. you've noticed that?" you ask as you stopped walking, looking down ashamed. " I admit that I have not been studying as much as before... I just feel like I'm burning out... or maybe I am burnt out..." 

Akaashi going right in front of you, he just pats your head, it may seem small, but it is your favorite form of affection from him. 

"You know it is normal to be burnt out, the important and most hardest part is overcoming it. I'm always free when you need me. If you want I'll skip practice today, we can just go straight to my house," Akaashi offers.

"That's very sweet of you Keji, but the volleyball team really needs you. You're the only one who can handle Bokuto, and I can't imagine how sad Bokuto would be when he finds out you're not there today." You reassure him.

"You know I care about you, more than I care about volleyball and Bokuto, just say the word and we can go to my house," Akaashi says, persisting.

"Keji, pretty soon is the Spring Nationals, you need to prepare, I'll meet you after your practice," you say as you start to part ways.

Unexpectedly Akaashi follows you grabbing you hand softly.

"Where are you going," he asks. Normally you would wait for him in the gym's girls locker rooms, till his practice is over, since there was air condition inside.

"I thought that today.. I would go stay in class and wait for you, maybe study a bit before.. so that you don't need to catch me up on anything, then we can study faster tonight," you said.

"What are you hiding?" he ask.

"I'm not hiding anything," you said defending yourself.

"You're avoiding eye contact with me, you keep scratching your neck, and your more defensives than normal, I can tell when you are trying to hide something Y/N," he said. After a few more moments of silence you finally confessed.

"Alright fine... one of my friends invited me to join track practice today, I know you don't want to join any sports, but it was just a practice, I'm not going to join," you said admittingly.

"Was that all you were trying to hide?" Akaashi asks, acting surprised. "I'm sorry if you felt like that was something you had to hide from me," his words so soothing, hiding the venom within.

"It was just because whenever I tell you about a club I was going to join you would always turn the idea down, or convince me not to do the club," 

"That is not true-"

"Soft tennis, kyudo, archery, ice skating, and now track and field," you cut him off, apparently Akaashi was not the only one that was keeping tabs on their partner.

"I just don't want you getting hurt, and plus who knows...  what if you get too involved in the sport and fall behind in school, also when you compete would you be willing to do it, all eyes would be on you, I know you get anxious in a crowd, and when you compete your coach, teammates, friends would all be counting on you," Akaashi explains.

"Yeah your right," you say, realizing that you shouldn't have thought about ever joining a sport, there would be no way you would be able to handle the stress and pressure. 

"I just thought I would be cool to have a sport since your in volleyball, I didn't want you to think I was lazy or something," you say timid.

"I would never think that about you, I know how much you study, how much you help your family around the house, I would never think of you as lazy," He says commending. "But just out of curiosity what type of event would you have picked if you were to do track and field?" he ask.

"It would be pole vault," you say. Hearing those words Akaashi was so glad to have convinced you not to. 

Pole vaulter's have upper body strength, and in the emergency of him kidnapping you, with you having some upper body strength it would just be irritating. He would win though. 

"Pole vault?" he asks, hesitantly.

"Is there a problem?" you ask curiously.

"It is just that pole vaulting is one of the most hardest events, and you're just going to jump into trying it," is all he says. 

But that was more than enough. What were you thinking, trying to pole vault, your in your 3rd year. Image trying to practice, how underclassmen will just see how bad you are. They must be way better, the season started 1 month ago. Also there was other events practicing too, image all those eyes on you.

"Yeah your right, it was just a dumb idea, I'm gonna text my friend that I'm busy," you said as you pulled up your phone, and started texting.

As you start to walk towards the gym with Akaashi following behind you.

[reallypleasanttree]

A continuation for the Obamitsu soulmate drabble

According to scholars, a person experiences the physical and emotional pain of their soulmate.  If they received an injury, you would feel the same. A sprained ankle, scraped knee, bruised shins, or paper cuts. It was an empathic link between two people. 

On Mitsuri’s tenth birthday, she woke up screaming. The sound woke her parents and they tried to calm her down. Her cheeks felt as if they had been torn open. She tried to talk, but due to the injury she couldn’t for a few hours. She pointed to her cheeks and made a pained expression to indicate it was part of the soulmate connection. Her stomach rolled and she failed to eat the entire day. Underneath the pain, she felt terror. Her whole body trembled that night. Someone was watching her soulmate with ill intent. 

What happened to her soulmate? 

For the next week, Mitsuri failed to eat regularly. Periodically, she would taste blood and push her plate away during dinner. Her parents made an appointment with the physician when she refused to eat her favorite food. They put her on suppressants to dull the connection between her and her soulmate for the next week. The pain didn’t stop though. She couldn’t function with the constant worry and foreboding. Mitsuri continued taking the medication for years afterward. 

Whenever she attempted to go off the suppressants, the empathic link returned stronger and with it the dread and self loathing. She theorized her soulmate engaged in cutting as she could feel the slices on her arms and legs while off the meds. Mitsuri wished she was a stronger person, but she could not manage her emotions on top of her soulmate’s as a teenager. Her insecurities increased ten times during high school. She felt guilty about taking the suppressants. She would not have been able to function with her mental health issues on top of their self hatred, shame, and low self worth. 

Now she was in her college’s library studying for her first midterm. Mitsuri decided to major in psychology. The midterm was for her experimental psychology class. Right now she was reviewing statistical terms. She let out a huff, flipped over the note card, and cut the space between her thumb and forefinger. She hissed. 

Several people turned to look at her. Two guys at the table next to her, a girl sitting across from her, and a mask wearing boy a few tables away. She’s 90 percent sure he was in her psychology class. Mitsuri smiled nervously. 

“Sorry, paper cut,” she said and looked down at the cut. It was bleeding more than it should. She set her note cards down and grabbed a tissue to prevent blood from dripping onto the table or her study materials. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a band aid appear on the desk. She glanced up. The masked boy stood in front of her table. 

“Here,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you,” Mitsuri said and took the band aid. She paused when she noticed his eyes. They were two different colors. Blue and gold. “Your eyes are really cool,” Mitsuri blurted out. Her cheeks heated. 

“They’re weird,” he said as he looked away. He pinched the space between his thumb and forefinger. 

“No, they’re really cool, but I can’t be the best judge on what’s weird or not,” Mitsuri chuckled and pointed at her pink and green braids. The boy nodded and started backing up to return to his desk. 

“I think we’re in the same class. Mr. Ubuyashiki’s experimental psych at 1:30?” Mitsuri asked. 

“Yeah, I’m in the class,” he answered. 

“Do you want to study with me? I made note cards for the stats section. It’ll be fun,” she said. 

“If you want. It’s been hard to focus, so you can keep me accountable,” he said. 

“Yay!” Mitsuri clapped her hands together before inhaling sharply as she remembered her paper cut. The corners of his eyes crinkled at her mistake before he went back to grab his backpack and laptop. He sat down across from her. 

“I’m Obanai by the way,” he introduced himself. 

“I’m Mitsuri,” she said as she opened the bandaid wrapper. Mitsuri tried to use her left hand to place the bandaid over her right hand with little success. The bandage fell on the floor. 

“Do you want help?” Obanai asked as if he had not been watching her struggle for the last minute. He unzipped the top pocket and pulled out a new band aid. Not waiting for her response, he reached for her right hand. When they touched, goosebumps appeared on her forearm. Her heart quickened as he held her hand still and put the bandaid over the webspace. 

“Thanks again,” Mitsuri said as she grabbed her note cards to start quizzing her classmate. 

“No problem,” Obanai said. 

------

“Have you met your soulmate?” Obanai asked out of the blue one afternoon in the library. They sat in a corner with sunlight filtering through the blinds. He was sitting in the chair caddy corner to hers. Mitsuri lifted her head to meet her companion’s gaze. 

“No-Well, it’s sort of hard to know,” Mitsuri bit her lip. She’d been taking the Apath suppressant since she was ten. He tapped the armrest as he waited for her to explain further. There were groups of people who shamed others for taking soulmate suppressants. They often cited the loss of the bond, disrespect for your soulmate, and countless other reasons. Obanai never mentioned his soulmate or his thoughts on them. 

“I take Apath,” she admitted in a whisper and glanced around them. The nearest person was on the other end of the library. She pursed her lips and studied his face, which remained neutral as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. 

“When I was younger, I woke up screaming. Something horrible happened to my soulmate and I couldn’t handle the pain. It kept me from eating. Any time I tried to eat it felt like I was ripping open my mouth and tasted blood. My parents worried and decided to put me on suppressants temporarily,” she explained. His eyebrows raised when she mentioned tasting blood. 

“After a week, I stopped taking them, but the pain didn’t stop. It came back worse, so I kept taking them. Every once in a while I try to get off them, but my soulmate-” Mitsuri paused and looked down at the space between her feet. “I think they hate themself. Actually, I know they do. It hurts knowing I can’t do anything to help them.” The corner of her mouth turned down. It was shameful to admit she wasn’t strong enough to cope with her soulmate’s emotions on top of her own. Hopefully, Obanai wouldn’t think less of her.  

“I know it doesn’t look like it, but I have my own issues,” she continued. “It gets complicated when my soulmate’s issues influence my own and I’m sure it’s the same for them. It’s better this way, at least for now.” Why was she even sharing this? He only asked if she met her soulmate. “Umm, so yeah, I don’t know if I have or have not met them to answer your question,” Mitsuri finished. Obanai’s face didn’t offer any insight into his mind. 

“I see,” he said. “Do you think they still feel your pain? Or is that also suppressed?” He asked as he rubbed the inside of his wrist. 

“I’m not sure. It’s different for every soulmate bond, according to the research. Some people feel pain and others don’t. There’s no rhyme or reason so far,” Mitsuri said. “Have you met your soulmate?”

“Not yet,” Obanai answered quickly. “I know they’re clumsy. They have a tendency to stub their toe and trip. It’s weird to feel a skinned knee without having one. It made wearing skinny jeans impossible,” he joked and his eyes crinkled. Mitsuri laughed louder than anticipated, which earned her a glare from the person studying on the other side of the building. Obanai and her shared a conspiratorial look before they returned to their respective notes. 

[magpies4nights]

(Title is a joke don’t take this seriously (please don't go to Ecuador)) GASA4AM COSPLAY MEET UP AT 0°47'03.1"S 91°00'09.9"W 1:00 PM ECT, BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!!!! (dev log #10)

Hi guys. I haven't died yet, for the people who are waiting on my downfall. It felt like I was dying because I was sick! yippee! I mean, I still am, but I can walk around mask free because it's basically just a little itchiness in my windpipe, but compared to last week Friday (I felt so sick I couldn't even get out of bed without the help of my parents dragging me out or even lift my head for that matter), I feel great. With how sick I was, I kinda didn't get to work on the fan game as I hoped I could. Of course, I could have requested to have a break from classes, but I think they wouldn't be so lenient without a covid test and I'm sure it would have been negative. I also had to do homework on top of having a sniffly nose and walking around like I was hit by a car. You know heavy machinery? I had to deal with that with fogged up glasses. My mom apparently said that her dad lost part of his finger to a table saw, and I thought I was going to have history repeat itself, although hopefully that doesn't mean the 90's are making a come back. The only good thing that may have happened was the MTV shows, Humongous Entertainment games and the Parappa series. And before you argue with me, Nirvana started in the 80's, and Titanic (1999) is not a good movie. Rose didn't love Jack, she basically kills him in the end because there WAS enough room on that door. Everyone who says she didn't kill him is a Rose apologist/j

Anyways, no more depressing shit for now. I’m almost done with the locations. At last. I have one more to do and then it's everyone else’s sprites and maybe rework Xandra’s because there are some animation errors in her sprites such as her ears disappearing when she walks. So yeah, next week when I finally have down time and feel better I can work on them. With the way things are going I'll probably have to update y'all the week after my birthday (which is late March. You guys will know when I change my bio from 20 to 21 (whopee I get to finally drink *shudders*)), because good god, classes are also going real hard on me. Midterm on the 6th? No thank you. Not after that essay you made us write which I practically had several panic attacks because I thought that piece of shit was going to fail me. If you're asking if I failed, no, surprisingly it got me a 100. I don't know if the teacher gave me pity points but somehow she said my clarity and my content was great which is surprising because there is no way someone who is practically having a panic attack and is really sleep deprived could ever do that (me when I was writing that).

I’ll be honest, the bottom floor for the house was a nightmare because there would be times when I had to figure out how the hell it would do the thing I wanted it to do based on Xandra’s location.

Anyways, music time. For possibly the last time for dev blogs for this project:

WATER BOWL💧🥣 WATER- 🗣️ WATER- 🗣️WATER- 🗣️WATER BOWL💧🥣🗣️ W-W-W-W-WATER ✨𝓫𝓸𝔀𝓵✨ (I was sick (and I still am) when I made that song)

(I guess there's now 2 songs with vocals)

Oh yeah I also drew up some stuff to make up for Valentine’s Day because I think it’s funny. And also it’s to cope with the pain of when my parents said go to bed and I was sick and bored and I couldn't lift my head up.

I also drew up something which was an old concept I had with Priyah, where instead of just pestering Xandra she did it to everyone by disguising herself as an erson (specifically as a holiday erson) and since there was no valentines verson in GASA4AM that I knew of I decided maybe she could pretend to be one of them.

(Translation because I know my handwriting is horrendous: Hi guys I’m Valentine’s Verson but you can call me Val. I’m like your 4th cousin. (These guys don’t look convinced))

Trust me you will recognize her in that Valentine’s version/Val disguise once you smack her glasses on her and take the lipstick off.

[isaurr78789]

Jan 29

Is it bad that I scroll through the online diaries tag and like to read some things? I don't read people's full entries but I feel like If they see me reading their stuff they'll spit In my face and block me or something. I don't know why I do it, maybe I'm just bored with my own life, perhaps I am a nosy perv, I wouldn't know what to tell you.

Anyways, it's my yearly entry on this, and the last time I wrote I believe it was the start of the school year. And to update, I do play the flute now and I'm not buns but I am at the same time, I'm bad more days than I'm not but I'm hoping that will go away with time. I dating someone now? I'll get to that in a second. I'm not filing all my classes but geometry, not failing per se, but my grade has not left the 70s In what feels like 90 years. I got a 96 on my English midterm and that's been my biggest accomplishment, 88 on my biology although I was hoping for at least a 90 it is not bad so shucks. My cramps are really killing me I just got one a couple hours ago and those 5 seconds made me so nauseous.Good lordy.

Im kinda bored, ill yap more later toods!!

[xi-off]

did i ttell yyall bout that time i accidentally took a quantum physics class . u should hear it. it says more abt me than my mbti ever will

my first deadly yet obvious mistake was letting my cousin* help me put my schedule together. in my defense it was my first semester ever at uni and i was taking any and all help i could get. "ur doin premed u might as well take this chem class in case u need it for ur major later" he says. "ok" i say.

*this is the one notorious for building bombs in his kitchen sink. yes he was 2 semesters from getting his bachelors in chemical engineering b4 deciding it was boring and then swapping to computer science for funsies. why do you ask

so yeah the class is named some benign thing like "intro to chemistry principles" with a large footnote that its only required for a handful of STEM degrees, but it therefore covers any and every intro chem credit u will ever need. so im like awesomesauce. might as well since this uni is notorious for idiot credit transfer policies 👍

first week or two is also fairly benign. prof mentions the class is gonna b pretty intense due to the material itself being pretty intense, this isnt really an intro course so hopefully u took ap chem, and im like sure its a 4 credit class. i didnt take ap chem in high school bc our chem teacher Sucked (2/15 ap chem kids my year got a 3 and everyone else failed) so im a little nervous but prepared to hate myself the rest of the semester. pretty cool. chugging along. i dont actually have to teach myself as much basic chem as i thought bc most of its pretty intuitive but im waiting for the other shoe to drop

add/drop deadline passes. my schedule is now set in stone

everything was still fine for a bit. but as per The Rules, somewhere around the 2nd of 4 midterms stuff starts going off the rails and im like. bestie WHAT is happening.u want me modeling WHAT in this janky software from the 90s that responds if and only if it feels like it? wtf is a pi orbital? wtf is hilbert space??? (pause) ARE WE DOING QUANTUM MECHANICS in my INTRO TO CHEM CLASS

(also side note im taking 17 credit hours this semester. the other classes included calc 2 which sucks fat nuts despite the fact im taking it for the second time…its been like 2 years bc i took it in high school… and japanese 101 which ended up being worse than the ACCIDENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS class in many ways)

so yeah i cried a lot. i got like a 60 on my final and scraped out with a B-. somehow even with Also A B- in my calc class my gpa didnt drop below my scholarship minimum of 3.5 until i failed illustration 101 later. and then i got really disabled. and then covid happened. and now ive been on academic probation for like . hang on doing math. 3 years. and also havent been able to get that resolved to take classes that entire time. and i need to go get that figured out so i can apply to another school UUUUUUGGGHHHHHHH f my gay baka life

tldr: stay in school to draw yuri on ur notes or jesus from bible will put u on academic probation for 3 years

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

1.15.23 Monday

9:07 am

Here in Conduent, as usual taking my brunch here in the pantry... Still, tight budgeting....

I saw someone named Mark from Delta account, I asked if I can microwave my plastics food lunch box coz I'm not sure if this is microwavable... Then, he said yeah! you can microwave that but just remove the cover...

Hmmm....I rode the bus from Salitran this San Agustin routing supposed to be going to Macapagal/ Double Dragon then when we were at the coastal the ticket boy said there was a sudden operation that the bus couldn't pass by there...

What else can I do? To accept that life is not always a bed of roses hoping for a sausage which I have here now...

I still feel this song, for Peachy/ Peaches and Peach...

9:36 am

Seeing this now here in the pantry...

" All you need is the plan,the road map, and the courage to press on to your destination"

By: Earle Nightingale

Wow! Amazing....

3:43 pm

I feel bullshit! I need to do a retake on my finals, the exam was not easy...

Potang inah talagah! I just need a job! Hmm...What is the point of battery test and pre-initial test and midterm that I passed...

SHIT! I missed a one point! I feel like a student... I got 39 out of 50, the passing is 40 and above... Bullshit! Shit this call center!!!

The bad thing about this final test, the correct answers once you submit it, it will no longer load for you to know your right and wrong answers...

It will just load there as passed or failed... Hmmm...But I was thinking if it can be controlled by someone behind.... Possibly.... No impossible these days... Hmmm....

But on the midterm after you submit the answers,you will see your test exam with the correct and wrong answers....

Last week, I noticed that the article number is changing, remember? It is weird, right???

The bullshit about this retake since, it didn't load my exam awhile ago for me to be able to see my correct and wrong answers, how will I know my 11 wrong items???

4:09 pm

If they will kick me out, will go to Concentrix again or EXL... Shit! This call center until I can make it!

Until, I can get a better position in time...

5:41 pm

Yey! My retake is 90% 45 out of 50 but I asked a help from a friend Dave on some questions, on my wrong items...

Yehey! I'm still surviving.... Thank God!

8:56 pm

Going home and happy but flat... I hate Aizzy but I like her to be my friend inside Conduent coz she is the mature person there near my age though she is on a third gender... I feel sad in a way... I feel that she doesn't like me, coz I want her to accompany me going to the seaside but she said she needs to go home right away coz she needs to sleep....

I feel so empty that I can't gain a companion coz most of the people there in my class are young soul or half of my age... So, supposed to be I want Aizzy the doll to accompany me, I said she is so "kill joy"... But I also have the maturity to act as an adult that I shouldn't push her on something that she didn't want to do or probably she is just tired...

It takes 2 to tango... It is just weird nobody will accompany me to go to the seaside... I feel bitterish and self-pityish...

It is just weird... But of course, I have to work coz I need money... I badly need money for my future.

I feel so empty... But I need to work and I need money and I need a career growth... I wanna travel and for my vanity and John and other expenses...

I have to beat this call center,in a way.... It made me feel bitter, empty and questioning myself, why... Why? Why?

9:24 pm

I feel bitterish... I hope to meet a Daddy.... But it must be mutual... So, saddish angels... I wanna leave Cavite if I can in a way.. I need growth...

I still have windblow...

10:38 pm

Hmm.... I'm in the house now...While in the jeep from Salitran, I accidentally passed by our village gate so I dropped off in Area-G...Bullshit! Then, I have to wait for a jeep again going to Salitran..

[rockingego]

damn i was hoping I wouldn't have to go to mf tumblr of all places to vent often but the server that use to give the best advice for vents now deletes vents that get too depressing or somethin idk and deleted my recent vent so here I am again ✌

Long story short I dunno if I can make it to next year man

End of the semester which means grades coming in soon and midterm finals or whatever next week

My lowest class average is a 80 and my highest is a 100

But that's the problem

80 is too low for my parents

I need a 85 or higher in every class

I'm barely able to keep my core classes above that line

English is a 88 Chemistry is a 85 AP History is a 86 and Algebra 2 is a 80

That's just barely good enough. I'm above a 90 in all my electives but to them that's just me not trying hard enough and only giving a damn about the stuff I like

I have no confidence in myself for finals because I can never concentrate in tests and the time limits fuck me over every time

If I fail any of these I'm going to be in so much trouble my winter break will be hell for me

I just want to poison myself or something at this point because I have no faith in myself and I'd rather be dying in a hospital than being yelled at by my dad for days and getting my stuff taken

I fucking hate school so fucking much

[anghraine]

To be clear:

As I mentioned in the tags, my childhood tests placed me as "below average" in every area of math except geometry (my school concluded that above average in geometry and below average in everything else averaged out to "fine"). I was only able to meet my high school's math requirement through (surprise) geometry and business accounting.

In undergrad, I failed remedial math three times (between both math 70 and math 90; I never passed the latter or reached 101 level). I earned my required math credits by getting 100% on the methodology midterm for statistics and then F's on everything else in the class for an exact 70% pass.

(I got my required "hard science" gen ed credits through a D+ in chemistry and a community college astronomy course I took in high school that involved zero math and only lectures, but which the transfer credit people decided to consider five credits of math-intensive lab science. I failed biology and nearly failed physics for math-related reasons—"nearly" because I withdrew rather than go further into debt for a course I wasn't going to pass.)

My psychology major required a second stats course that involved still more numbers (I failed it, with no serious possibility of ever passing, and thus could not earn a psych degree even as a BA). My psych major/creative writing minor had to be converted to an English major with creative writing and psych minors for me to graduate at all, though my academic history in psych was otherwise much better than in any type of English studies apart from creative writing.

Studying literature obviously is not terrible or something I dislike, given the nature of my blog or the two other literature degrees I ended up pursuing. But dropping my psych major did not feel like a meaningful choice. I went into literary studies because it was the only thing I seemed capable of succeeding at. I got my MA in literature mainly because I needed two years of classes on my transcript that I had some possibility of acing in order to produce a history of academic success for PhD applications.

Several years later, the PsyD who formally diagnosed me with autism (beyond the clinical autism diagnosis I already had) told me that, in addition to the generally-understood specific symptoms of ASD I clearly had, one of the things she looks for in testing are large variances between different skills. Part of the reason my case was such an easy confirmation was because, according to her, the gap between my math/visual-spatial skills on the one hand and verbal ones on the other was one of the most drastic disparities she'd ever seen. This was not presented as a "she's just so verbal" thing but a "no verbal delays but holy fuck what is going on with these math scores" thing.

She told me she suspected that, despite my documented history of extreme skill disparities going back to primary school, I flew under the radar because verbal skills are so weighted that even professionals find it difficult to see past them if they're present. This was even more the case when I was growing up in the 1990s/early 2000s.

I replied, "I feel like I have holes in my brain and everybody refuses to see them."

Her response was essentially: "In a way, you do, and it's actually okay for that to be a difficult way to live."

And it is!

It's not only math, of course. I can't drive—I know how, I passed the written test fine, I just can't keep track of enough things or react quickly enough to actually do it. I get overstimulated and simply stop registering anything beyond what I can process, including things like "a car is driving directly at me in my lane" (not a theoretical example). Even as a passenger, driving is nerve-wracking and I tend to "shut down" and cover my eyes. People assume I don't know how to drive or haven't tried, "but actually it's not that hard once you learn"; in fact, I failed the driving test twice and the officials told me not to try again.

My particular form of stimming is obtrusive and low-grade harmful (to myself) and so I have to constantly repress and redirect it. My friends have to calculate tips for me and help me shop for groceries. I'm considered fully verbal, but I can lose the ability to speak when overstimulated, and more frequently, I stop being able to parse what other people are saying. (This experience is hard to describe but words just sound like noise at that point.) I can usually maintain my composure in public places, even when I don't understand what people are saying, but then have meltdowns at home that I simply don't tell colleagues or friends about because I find it embarrassing.

I am lucky in many ways, to be clear. I can thoroughly analyze things in my own way at my own pace. I had a supportive PhD program and fantastic advisor. My (bipolar) mood swings respond well enough to fairly safe mood stabilizers and milder antipsychotics (i.e. it takes max doses but they do work). I was able to write and defend a dissertation, after all. I can mask fairly well if I don't have to do it indefinitely (this is exhausting but at least opens up some possibilities).

I've never actively befriended anyone but other people have taken me under their wing, so I do have friends who are kind and loyal people, and they seem usually happy to help me (if with teasing I don't really get). I have generous, supportive immediate family who have done their best to understand, and who themselves had a very lucky career break before I started grad school that ensured I'd never go hungry.

But something about getting a PhD while unable to do basic things woven into everyday life in my country does make "lala what disability" posts feel like I'm losing my mind more than usual!

(The point of all this is to clarify that this post is about math-related disability, hence the #it is kind of wild how people refuse to comprehend math disabilities can coexist with high verbal skill though tag and why it's at all relevant to my annoyance with "disabilities are just labels :)" anti-psych nonsense.)

Nothing like attempting basic division to sharpen my hatred of "everyone is mentally disabled in their own way :) don't let labels define you :) :)" anti psych posts

[moreaujeans]

the way that my affirmations rn are literally just “you only need to get a 40% to pass the class 💆🏼‍♀️”

[purrfectly]

I got a 6.5/9 on this midterm with an extra credit question, but everyone uniformally did so bad he added 1.5 points (16.7% bonus!!) to it..... king ♥ maybe smth is wrong here

[copperbadge]

Before I left for vacation I did my usual “tidy for the petsitter” routine, and there was some paperwork that I thought should probably get put away, so I stashed it in a storage bin I had out. Because I know me, I put a note in my to-do list for when I got back that said “There’s important stuff in the bin, remember to go get it.”

So I did, but I thought I should deal with the other stuff in the bin too, and I’ve just been popping the lid and dealing with one or two things every time I go past it. Most of it is paperwork, and I’ve just hit some records from high school that my mother recently gave to me without either of us going through them.

There’s a bunch of report cards, which are heartbreaking and hilarious. I graduated a semester early and my last semester was cleanup -- two classes to complete graduation requirements and one to maintain status as a “full time” student. Two were math-based which I was notoriously bad at, and sure enough at the midterm I was getting a D+ in one and a C- in the other. We’d just begun digital grade recording, so the teachers would keep their grades in a paper book and then log into an extremely basic database and enter the grades, which would spit out on our printed report cards. They could put in a grade plus three “codes” which would print next to our grades as status updates, stuff like “disruptive in class” or similar. 

My English course, in which I was getting an A, said “Exceeding expectations” which was kind of Mr. G because I remember him and his expectations were exceptionally high for me. 

The other two have the same catechism: Missing Assignments, Does Not Pay Attention In Class, and of course...Achievement Not Up To Ability. Guess now we know why. 

Reading through these old cards with the cushion of time, it’s fascinating to see my young brain at work. My math and (math-based) science grades tank so hard, at the same time I was getting As or Bs everywhere else -- history, civics, econ, english, spanish. There are documented questions about whether I’m going to pass enough math to graduate high school, dated the same semester as my perfect Verbal SAT score and my fives in AP Comp and Lit. The first semester after I was put into the Gifted program, I failed Remedial Algebra.  

I did say at the time, to my mother and my teachers, there’s something wrong here. My mother, in her defense, had her hands full with my brother; my teachers just didn’t know what to do with me. The school district was broke and didn’t have disability testing available. By the time I got to college I’d simply internalized the idea that I was a neurotypical kid who got stubborn when asked to do something I found pointless and boring, and that was a personality flaw to be corrected, not a symptom of something bigger. My therapist for my last few years of high school agreed, and thought I should probably learn more anger management techniques. Although it turns out you can’t breathing-exercise your way out of undiagnosed ADHD. 

In any case, here in 2023, there’s no solution or tidy resolution or anything to be done about it, it just is what it is: a sheaf of paper from the late 90s about a smart fuckup who could have used a hand. I’m here now, alive and employed and medicated and a homeowner, so it’s a bunch of numbers that don’t mean anything. I’ll scan them into my digital archive, then toss the paper and never look at the archive again, probably. 

Achievement not up to ability. Boy, no kidding. 

[reallypleasanttree]

More from the Obamitsu graveyard. Modern Soulmate AU

According to scholars, a person experiences the physical and emotional pain of their soulmate.  If they received an injury, you would feel the same. A sprained ankle, scraped knee, bruised shins, or paper cuts. It was an empathic link between two people. 

On Mitsuri’s tenth birthday, she woke up screaming. The sound woke her parents and they tried to calm her down. Her cheeks felt as if they had been torn open. She tried to talk, but due to the injury she couldn’t for a few hours. She pointed to her cheeks and made a pained expression to indicate it was part of the soulmate connection. Her stomach rolled and she failed to eat the entire day. Underneath the pain, she felt terror. Her whole body trembled that night. Someone was watching her soulmate with ill intent. 

What happened to her soulmate? 

For the next week, Mitsuri failed to eat regularly. Periodically, she would taste blood and push her plate away during dinner. Her parents made an appointment with the physician when she refused to eat her favorite food. They put her on suppressants to dull the connection between her and her soulmate for the next week. The pain didn’t stop though. She couldn’t function with the constant worry and foreboding. Mitsuri continued taking the medication for years afterward. 

Whenever she attempted to go off the suppressants, the empathic link returned stronger and with it the dread and self loathing. She theorized her soulmate engaged in cutting as she could feel the slices on her arms and legs while off the meds. Mitsuri wished she was a stronger person, but she could not manage her emotions on top of her soulmate’s as a teenager. Her insecurities increased ten times during high school. She felt guilty about taking the suppressants. She would not have been able to function with her mental health issues on top of their self hatred, shame, and low self worth. 

Now she was in her college’s library studying for her first midterm. Mitsuri decided to major in psychology. The midterm was for her experimental psychology class. Right now she was reviewing statistical terms. She let out a huff, flipped over the note card, and cut the space between her thumb and forefinger. She hissed. 

Several people turned to look at her. Two guys at the table next to her, a girl sitting across from her, and a mask wearing boy a few tables away. She’s 90 percent sure he was in her psychology class. Mitsuri smiled nervously. 

“Sorry, paper cut,” she said and looked down at the cut. It was bleeding more than it should. She set her note cards down and grabbed a tissue to prevent blood from dripping onto the table or her study materials. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a band aid appear on the desk. She glanced up. The masked boy stood in front of her table. 

“Here,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you,” Mitsuri said and took the band aid. She paused when she noticed his eyes. They were two different colors. Blue and gold. “Your eyes are really cool,” Mitsuri blurted out. Her cheeks heated. 

“They’re weird,” he said as he looked away. He pinched the space between his thumb and forefinger. 

“No, they’re really cool, but I can’t be the best judge on what’s weird or not,” Mitsuri chuckled and pointed at her pink and green braids. The boy nodded and started backing up to return to his desk. 

“I think we’re in the same class. Mr. Ubuyashiki’s experimental psych at 1:30?” Mitsuri asked. 

“Yeah, I’m in the class,” he answered. 

“Do you want to study with me? I made note cards for the stats section. It’ll be fun,” she said. 

“If you want. It’s been hard to focus, so you can keep me accountable,” he said. 

“Yay!” Mitsuri clapped her hands together before inhaling sharply as she remembered her paper cut. The corners of his eyes crinkled at her mistake before he went back to grab his backpack and laptop. He sat down across from her. 

“I’m Obanai by the way,” he introduced himself. 

“I’m Mitsuri,” she said as she opened the bandaid wrapper. Mitsuri tried to use her left hand to place the bandaid over her right hand with little success. The bandage fell on the floor. 

“Do you want help?” Obanai asked as if he had not been watching her struggle for the last minute. He unzipped the top pocket and pulled out a new band aid. Not waiting for her response, he reached for her right hand. When they touched, goosebumps appeared on her forearm. Her heart quickened as he held her hand still and put the bandaid over the webspace. 

“Thanks again,” Mitsuri said as she grabbed her note cards to start quizzing her classmate. 

“No problem,” Obanai said. 

[shouldering-space]

how is one of my english courses somehow the hardest history class i’ve taken when i’m a history minor who has taken Many actual history courses????

[luvxiem]

##TELEPHONE GAME 📞

##PART ONE

luca kaneshiro x gn!reader, college au, all humans au, idiots to lovers slowburn, fluff, humor, angst

word count: 2.4k

series masterlist

next part

you’re fucked. you’re so fucked. at this point you would’ve preferred the ground to just swallow you whole so that you wouldn’t have to face the utter humiliation of coming into class twenty minutes late and feeling the judgmental stares of all your peers burning into your back as you make the walk of shame to one of the few remaining seats in the hall.

of course, that hasn’t happened yet, but you can see it clearly in your mind.

frantically throwing on a hoodie, you slip out of your dorm with a quick goodbye to your roommate while scarfing down a banana as quickly as you could. it’s a wonder how you didn’t choke while running down multiple flights of stairs since the elevators were broken. again.

you made a mad dash across campus and through the halls—bumping into more than a few disgruntled shoulders—before skidding to a halt in front of a pair of double doors. and of course, they were closed. because the universe just loves to fuck with you.

with a grimace, you push one of the doors open—the sound of the metal bar and the creak of its worn hinges seems to echo throughout the room and you hear your professor pause in the middle of her sentence from the disruption. she raises an eyebrow at you and you flush.

“glad to see you finally join us,” she calls, a few snickers coming from the crowd of students watching you try and fail to merge into the wall. you catch more than a couple glances of sympathy.

“sorry,” you murmur, ducking your head in a makeshift bow. heat radiates from your cheeks as you scan the rows for an empty desk, tucking your bag to your chest as you walk over extended legs before you’re finally seated a bit toward the back of the hall. your professor continues her lecture undisturbed, clicking through a powerpoint containing information that you’re 90% sure will be on your midterm. quickly taking out your laptop, you sit back in your seat while waiting for it to boot up and sneak glances on either side of you.

to your left is some asian girl you vaguely remember seeing on a friend’s instagram story a while ago, and to your right is a tall blonde dude with a side ponytail. who’s currently watching spy x family on his laptop. neither of them seem to notice your staring which is a plus, so you lean forward and open your notes app to try and write down the multiple bullet points that appeared to be flying by before you could even finish reading them. the words of your professor seem to go in one ear and out the other, and soon enough you’re feeling the telltale signs of frustration creeping in the back of your mind. shutting your eyes with a huff, you rub them with the sleeves of your hoodie before deciding that since you obviously weren’t going to be productive today, you’ll just sit back and zone out for the rest of the lesson. besides, your best friend uki has this class tomorrow morning and he’ll give you his notes with a little bit of bribery.

your gaze inevitably drifts off to your right and ultimately lands on the blonde’s laptop which is still playing spy x family. thankfully, the dude is watching with captions which makes it much easier for you to keep up with the story. you haven’t seen this episode yet (since when was there a dog?) which is always a plus, although you’ll have to check when you get back to your dorm to make sure you didn’t skip any.

blondie seems to notice you watching along with him and subtly angles his laptop in your direction. blushing from getting caught, you chance a glance up at him and jolt a bit when your gazes meet. striking violet eyes stare back at you and he offers a boyish grin before turning his attention back to his screen.

the rest of the lesson continues without any fanfare and soon enough you’re packing your laptop into your bag alongside your peers. a buzz comes from your pocket which shows a notification from uki saying that he’s already at the campus cafe along with shu, the final member of your little trio.

a tap on your shoulder stops you from leaving, however, and when you turn on your heel you come face to face with the blonde stranger once again. he gestures to your bag with his hand, which you now notice was concealed in dark leather gloves.

“were you able to get the, the uh, notes?”

you blink.

ah. he must’ve noticed your rather pathetic attempt at paying attention today.

adjusting the strap on your shoulder, you shrug. “no, but it’s fine, i can just get the notes from somebody else.” that seems to spark something him as he replies quickly.

“if you need them, i can ask my friend. i didn’t get the notes either but his are usually, uh, usually pretty good.” his eagerness to help doesn’t get lost on you, but asking a stranger to ask his friend for notes that you could just ask uki for felt a little uncomfortable.

offering what you hoped was an appreciative smile, you reply, “it’s fine, my best friend has this class tomorrow and i was planning on asking him for them. thank you though.” he seems to accept your answer and nods. the blonde waves at you with a grin before shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and walking off, taking two steps at a time down the stairs before slipping out the door and disappearing from view.

this happens again your next class. and the next. and the next.

every session since then without fail, you find yourself seated next to this tall blonde man who adjusts his laptop so that you can watch anime with him instead of paying attention to your professor and her powerpoints. uki’s been getting annoyed at your constant requests for his notes and your wallet is suffering from all the iced coffees you’ve been buying him as compensation.

despite this odd sort of friendship (or perhaps it was more of a mutual understanding of suffering) you’ve never gotten the guy's name, and at this point, you’re too embarrassed to ask.

luckily for you, you don’t have to.

a month passes since you embarrassed yourself in front of your peers and as soon as you enter the class, you immediately spot the big, bolded letters being projected to the front of the hall.

you’re being assigned a group project.

suppressing a shudder, you make your way up the stairs and plop down into what you’ve claimed as your seat, pulling your laptop out of your bag as you greet your anime buddy with a smile. violet eyes glance over you briefly before he returns your greeting with a grin of his own.

as the last few students come stumbling into the hall, your professor clears her throat before detailing what the project was about and her expectations for it. you jot down the specifics on your laptop, fingers tapping away at the keyboard as she speaks.

the goal of the project was to research the misconceptions and romanticization of love in modern media and to present on our findings as well as the repercussions of it on today’s youth. easy enough, you suppose, although you wonder why this was meant to be a group project as you could surely do the work on your own. your thoughts get interrupted as your professor continues stating the parameters of the assignment.

“in addition to the research and presentation, you and your partner must provide a personal anecdote on how you experience love with the people around you. i understand that this is a private matter, however for the purpose of this class i wish for you all to provide as much information as you are comfortable giving. the goal of this project is to force you to reflect on how you treat your loved ones and how this affects yourself as an individual. your partner for this project will be assigned by me as this is meant to push you out of your comfort zone.” a multitude of groans are heard in response, although your professor could clearly care less as she reaches behind her to grab the list of partners from her desk. name after name is called out and you fiddle with your laptop charger until she calls your own, as well as who you’re stuck with for the next three months.

“your partner will be luca kaneshiro.” she announces before immediately moving on to the next pair.

you start racking through your mind to try and figure out who this luca is before you feel a nudge against your arm and someone saying your name. turning to your right, you’re met with a bright expression.

“pog! can’t believe we got put together,” the blonde says, who you now realize must’ve been your partner. which also means this must be luca.

“yeah,” you smile weakly, thankful that at least now you don’t have to embarrass yourself by asking your (maybe?) friend for the past month what his name was. you decidedly choose to keep quiet about how he knew your name despite never introducing yourself.

“how did you wanna do this?” luca asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. somehow, he reminds you of a big golden retriever.

“h-huh?” you stutter.

“the project? do you have um. discord? so we can talk about it outside of class.” he explains.

“oh, uh, yeah i do. one second.” pawing your phone out of your pocket, you open the app and hand it off to luca so that he can send himself a request. the blonde opens his own phone and accepts it, sending you that default gif of wumpus waving hello. you send one back. distantly, you notice his profile picture is an image of pompompurin.

another "pog!" comes from your partner and you can't help but wonder if he uses any other twitch slang in his day to day life. it doesn't seem to be ironic either, at least, at the moment it doesn't.

later when you glide out of the classroom and sit down across from shu in your usual spot at the campus cafe, you realize that you have no idea how you're supposed to do this project. luca, although quite friendly, isn't the most approachable guy with his tall stature and broad shoulders, and a nonsensical part of your mind panics at the mental image of the blonde as a tall mafia boss looming over your beat-up body with a crazed smile. you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

"you good?"

shu has his laptop open on the table, staring at you with one eyebrow raised as he takes a long sip from his water. the computer science major already ordered you an iced vanilla latte and a bagel (thank god) and you quickly nod before reaching for a plastic knife.

"yeah," you reply, gathering a rather sizable amount of cream cheese. "just worried about my, uh, my groupmate."

"ahh." shu nods knowingly. "are they one of those freeloading people?" you shrug.

"not sure. haven't worked with him before. but he's a little intimidating," you admit, taking a bite of your bagel.

"are we shit talking?" looking up, you realize your missing friend has finally arrived.

uki plops down across from you, dropping his bag onto the floor with a loud thump. he reaches over and ruffles shu's hair, much to the other's dismay as he tries valiantly to brush it back into place.

"no. can i borrow your notes for tomorrow?"

"i want an iced americano," uki counters, side eyeing you.

you roll your eyes. "fine." sadly abandoning your bagel on a napkin, you stand up to go order his coffee. when you return to your friends, you set down the cup in front of uki and he takes a sip with a pleased smile on his face as you sit back in your chair. setting the drink down, he looks at you from across the table.

"okay but, who were we talking about? do we like them?" he asks. again, you shrug.

"his name's luca, he's in my morals class and we're partners for a project. you'll get assigned it tomorrow and we don't choose our partners." shu's eyes widen for a moment.

"oh, i didn't know luca was taking that." you turn to him in surprise.

"you know him?" he nods.

"we actually went to the same elementary school and our parents were friends before we moved," shu explains. "if i remember correctly, he's pretty nice. he always played tag with me during recess."

"aww, i just imagined little shu running around," uki teases fondly. shu chuckles.

"yeah, we used to be pretty close. we reconnected when we realized we both had calculus together. he's a lot taller than i expected."

"that's what i mean," you groan, cutting him off. "he's like, really tall and kinda buff. it's intimidating." you drop your head into your hands as shu pats you on the back with a sympathetic look.

"it'll be fine," he reassures. "really, he's just like a big puppy. a golden retriever. and i'm sure he'll pull his weight so you won't end up doing everything like last time with that one guy."

"i can ask around and see if he's like, weird or something," uki offers. you shake your head, dropping your arms back onto the table as you lean back in your chair and stare at the ceiling.

"no, it's fine. i'll trust shu. just, hoping for the best, i guess," you sigh.

taking out your phone, you open discord and stare at your messages with luca. wumpus continues to wave as if he was taunting you.

it'll be fine, you think. we'll get this project done without any issues and who knows? maybe i'll have another friend after all this is over.

##TAGLIST

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, do NOT reply under this post

@error9272 @iruc