#how to calculate GPA

[peterparkerr06]

Understanding your Grade Point Average (GPA) is crucial for tracking your academic progress, regardless of whether you are a high school or college student. It is a numerical representation of your overall academic achievements and is calculated by dividing the total grade points earned by the total credit hours attempted.

To help you calculate your GPA, we have created a step-by-step guide that will walk you through the process using a simple formula. In this guide, you will learn how to convert your letter grades into numerical values, which is necessary for calculating your GPA. You will also learn how to calculate your credit hours, which are the number of hours you spend in class each week, and how to use this information to find your GPA for each semester.

By following this guide, you will have a better understanding of your academic performance and be able to monitor your progress over time. Additionally, knowing how to calculate your GPA can help you make informed decisions about your academic goals and aspirations, and can also provide insights into areas where you may need to improve.

[chronic-cynic]

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what th

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Hey I think years of being held up on a pedestal as a “gifted kid” has kind of screwed up my perception of my self worth. Mayhaps

[depresseddepot]

I hate the US grading system !!!

[communistkenobi]

(taken from a post about AI)

speaking as someone who has had to grade virtually every kind of undergraduate assignment you can think of for the past six years (essays, labs, multiple choice tests, oral presentations, class participation, quizzes, field work assignments, etc), it is wild how out-of-touch-with-reality people’s perceptions of university grading schemes are. they are a mass standardised measurement used to prove the legitimacy of your degree, not how much you’ve learned. Those things aren’t completely unrelated to one another of course, but they are very different targets to meet. It is standard practice for professors to have a very clear idea of what the grade distribution for their classes are before each semester begins, and tenure-track assessments (at least some of the ones I’ve seen) are partially judged on a professors classes’ grade distributions - handing out too many A’s is considered a bad thing because it inflates student GPAs relative to other departments, faculties, and universities, and makes classes “too easy,” ie, reduces the legitimate of the degree they earn. I have been instructed many times by professors to grade easier or harder throughout the term to meet those target averages, because those targets are the expected distribution of grades in a standardised educational setting. It is standard practice for teaching assistants to report their grade averages to one another to make sure grade distributions are consistent. there’s a reason profs sometimes curve grades if the class tanks an assignment or test, and it’s generally not because they’re being nice!

this is why AI and chatgpt so quickly expanded into academia - it’s not because this new generation is the laziest, stupidest, most illiterate batch of teenagers the world has ever seen (what an original observation you’ve made there!), it’s because education has a mass standard data format that is very easily replicable by programs trained on, yanno, large volumes of data. And sure the essays generated by chatgpt are vacuous, uncompelling, and full of factual errors, but again, speaking as someone who has graded thousands of essays written by undergrads, that’s not exactly a new phenomenon lol

I think if you want to be productively angry at ChatGPT/AI usage in academia (I saw a recent post complaining that people were using it to write emails of all things, as if emails are some sacred form of communication), your anger needs to be directed at how easily automated many undergraduate assignments are. Or maybe your professors calculating in advance that the class average will be 72% is the single best way to run a university! Who knows. But part of the emotional stakes in this that I think are hard for people to admit to, much less let go of, is that AI reveals how rote, meaningless, and silly a lot of university education is - you are not a special little genius who is better than everyone else for having a Bachelor’s degree, you have succeeded in moving through standardised post-secondary education. This is part of the reason why disabled people are systematically barred from education, because disability accommodations require a break from this standardised format, and that means disabled people are framed as lazy cheaters who “get more time and help than everyone else.” If an AI can spit out a C+ undergraduate essay, that of course threatens your sense of superiority, and we can’t have that, can we?

[result-zero]

SSC Result 2023 Date || How to calculate SSC GPA without 4th subject

SSC Result 2023 will be released within 27th to 29th July 2023 in hole Bangladesh Education Board. Secondary School Certificate SSC Exam Result 2023 date has been publish in a time. This year the Secondary School Certificate exam was held on 30 April to 30 May, 2023. The Authority Education Board Bangladesh will Announced the result on July 2023. So Students be ready to get SSC 2023 Result with…

[chronicallycouchbound]

Intelligence Doesn't Equal Morality

Intellect is rooted in ableist systems and stupidity and intelligence are pointless social constructs that don't relate to morals or character.

I try to be a pretty good person, I fight for human rights, I regularly engage in mutual aid, and I care for my community. I try to do the right thing and support causes I care about and make positive changes in the world.

But I also am not very smart. I have several neurodevelopmental disorders, as well as cognitive disabilities. I can’t do simple, basic math, it’s hard for me to remember facts or algorithms, I rely entirely on spellcheck and speech-to-text to write, I failed many classes in high school and I barely passed with a low GPA, I had low pSAT scores and I never took the SATs. I moved around a lot all through school starting in third grade, and I missed a lot of basic fundamentals in learning (like how to do division and multiplication) so when I went to a different school they had already passed it and expected me to know. After my TBI, I could barely read AFTER I was cleared from my “concussion” symptoms because letters and words would flip around and I’d get headaches. Which still happens sometimes.

A lot of people see me as smart because I've learned a lot of academic language and can formulate thoughts into cohesive posts. But I lack a lot of necessary skills and rely on my caretakers to assist me. Things like budgeting and planning are extremely difficult for me. If I need to do simple addition or subtraction, even with a calculator, I quickly get confused and struggle. I forget basic information about myself all the time, let alone other subjects. I'm talking, has to check my ID for my birthday type confused. Doesn't know my name or address or what year it is confused. It happens daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Being able to type out posts like this often takes weeks and many adaptive tools to get there. Focusing is extremely difficult on many fronts, severe chronic pain, ADHD, dissociation, fatigue, migraines, and TBI, are just some of the contributing factors. I struggle daily with many things because of my lack of intellect.

I’m also privileged in the fact that I had some access to education as a homeless youth, that I had some supports in place to help me (towards the end of school), that I was somewhat able-bodied at the time and could walk or bike to and from school when the school system didn’t provide transportation. I was fortunate to have a chance to succeed, and I’m proud that I graduated high school because it was a difficult task for me, and others often aren’t offered that chance or get accommodations. I almost didn’t and I dropped out many times before graduation. I passed on sheer luck and what little privileges I had. 

That all being said, me being stupid (reclaiming it here) doesn't make me a bad person. I don't hurt people because I can't do math. I may mess up things or get confused but it doesn't make me want to harm others.

We often (wrongfully) equate morals with intellect. Being ‘stupid’, ‘dumb’, or an ‘idiot’ doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Plenty of evil, awful, and abusive people are extremely intelligent. 

I see this most notably with people advocating for IQ tests to be able to vote. Often from left-leaning people, in hopes it'll make the right (that they view as unintelligent), unable to vote. The reality is, it just hurts some of our most vulnerable members of the community while not actively doing anything to restrict some of the most dangerous members of our community-- those who know what they're doing to harm others and deliberately doing so. My voice matters, and I speak up against injustice and participate in dismantling oppressive systems. Taking away my right to vote won't make the right stop oppressing minorities (which also puts a lot of faith into the two-party voting system, which is a post for another day).

Additionally, legislative measures that discriminate against intellectually disabled people such as IQ tests for voting are also rooted in racism and classism. 

Yes, education can be a vital tool when it comes to addressing discrimination and creating safer communities. But the kind of education that is measured with an IQ test (or any test) isn't the same. Building compassion and caring for others can (and should) happen at any IQ level. We can all practice this, we can all participate.

It harms our communities and stagnates our progress when we equate intelligence with high morals.

[brooooswriting]

Could you please write Leighton giving r some lessons in math cause r is terrible but needs to pass the course

R going with leighton to shop different things

Progressing to a relationship

You can do whatever you desire with this 😅

Tutors to lovers

Every day, your parents showed that they knew nothing about you. You didn't wanna go to Essex, and you definitely didn't wanna take advanced math, but they made sure that it was impossible for you to get out of it. Their demands on you were crazy; a 3.7 GPA was what they called terrible. And with your current understanding of advanced math? You were so fucked, and the person sitting next to you thought the same thing.

“Psst, look. You gotta divide this by 4, and then you have to calculate its root. Then you have 6 as the value of on x.” Leighton whispered to you, hoping to help you understand what the teacher was doing at the front. But the way you looked at her so helplessly and confused made her laugh louder than she intended to.

After class, you quickly stopped the blonde before she could walk out. “Leighton, hey. Thank you for trying to help me. Can I buy you a coffee as a thanks?” you asked with a small smile. She looked at you for a second before nodding. “Alright, then follow me” you walked out and towards sips, making small talk on the way there.

“After you,” you mumbled as you opened the door to the coffee shop for her. She thanked you and walked in, looking around the place. “What? Have you never been here before?” you asked with a small laugh, signaling that you were joking.

She looked at you for a moment before scrunching up her nose a bit and shaking her head. “No, never been. Not the biggest fan of cheap coffee and of whatever it smells like in here.” You grinned slightly as you walked toward the counter, your wallet already in hand.

“Yeah, well, I would have taken you to a more fancy place, but we both have another class in 20 minutes, and a good coffee is like 15 minutes away.” Leighton nodded, an understanding look on her face as you stepped up to the counter. After she told you what she wants to drink, you turn towards the counter again. “Oh, hey, Kimberly. How are you? Can I get two iced lattes and two blueberry muffins?”

“Y/n, it's so great to see you. I'm fine, thank you. How are you?” you talked for a bit while you paid, and she made your coffee, the blonde only standing behind you. “Alright, here you are. Have a great day, see you later Leighton” Both of you said goodbye before sitting on a park bank outside.

“So, can I ask you something?” Leighton asked as you played with her straw. You nodded, waiting for her to ask as you watched people walk by. “Why are you taking advanced math? Not to be rude, but you suck at it”

You laughed slightly before taking a deep breath. “Well, my father took it, my mother took it and my sister at Harvard is taking it. So, even if I suck at it and hate it, I have to take it too. But it seems like I’m failing it” you explained, looking at her for a second before continuing, “unlessssss someone would be willing to tutor me.” The grin you sent her made her smile while looking down at the bench to hide her slight blush.

“You know what, fine. Why not. Come by my dorm tomorrow at 5 ok?” The blonde didn’t even wait for an answer before she walked off, joining Bella on her way to the next class.

The next day you arrived at her dorm at 5 pm sharp, being greeted by Kimberly and Whitney who sat in their common room. “Hey y/n, Leighton is still in her room” Kimberly started but was quickly interrupted.

“Oh my god Bella” leighton screamed from inside their room, “can’t you just fuck him anywhere else? Jeez, i have a tutoring lesson in here”

“This isn’t just your room Leighton. This is our room and it’s made for sleeping” Bella argued back making you girls in the living room giggle.

“Dude, that’s so fucked from you. Keep away from my bed! If one thing is out of place later you’re in trouble!” The three of you stopped giggling as Leighton stormed out of the door, nearly running into you. “Y/n, let’s go. We gonna go to the library or some shit because somebody is being intolerable” she screamed the last part making you laugh.

“Alright, come on. You gotta calm down” you pulled Leighton out of the room, saying goodbye to the rest of her dorm mates. You went into the library where you sat down, and minutes later you were desperate for it to stop.

“Y/n, cmon. You gotta concentrate dude, it’s not that hard” the blonde complained as she went over the same exercise again and again.

“It may not be hard for you blondie, but I’m dying over here. I would even fail basic math class, there is no way I’ll ever pass this shit” you whimpered out, letting your head hit the table. Normally, stupid and dramatic behavior like this would have annoyed the shit out of her but when you did it? Well it was kinda cute.

“Ok, let’s start new ok? We will start at zero and once you’re at one we will get something to eat?” At the word ‘eat’ you immediately perked up, sitting straighter to find new concentration.

It took over an hour for you to get to at least one but Leighton was sure that the hardest work was now done. Or at least she hoped. “So, cafeteria?” You asked as you stuffed all your books into your bag. You received a nod and took off, happy to finally get some food.

Since your first lesson Leighton helped you during class and like two times a week for an hour to four, depending on how fucked you were. And finally, you went from an E to a c- and you were getting even better. The connection between you and Leighton also got better from time to time, creating a strong and unexpected bond.

‘If I have to listen to any of my roommates even one more second, I’m going to kill all of them and then myself”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Leighton text, parents weekend was coming up again and it made her more nervous every day. And while she, even if she won’t admit, actually loved her roommates their chattiness and stuff could get to her.

‘Be outside your dorm in 2’

You texted back, quickly putting on your shoes and jacket before grabbing your wallet and car keys. In the matter of minutes you stood in front of a perfectly styled blonde who wore an annoyed look until she saw you. It was quickly being replaced with a smile as she walked toward you. “So, why’d you want me to be here?” She asked with a giddy voice, as she couldn’t wait to hear what you planned.

“Let’s go to my car and then I’ll tell you” you lead her to your jeep outside of the campus. “My lady” you grinned as you opened the door for her and stretched out your hand to help her inside.

“Thank you very much, such a gentleman. Sooo where are we going?” She studied your face as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“We are going to do something that relaxes you like nothing else”

“What?” She asked, quite confused.

“We are going shopping” you grinned as you drove on to the highway, “but we might have to drive like an hour or something, there’s nothing close that has your standards” her jaw fell as you stopped talking. She couldnt believe that you actually knew where she liked to shop and that you were just out here driving her there.

“You’re kidding right?” She asked, a squeal leaving her when she figured out that you were telling the truth. “That’s so sweet, thank you”

After over an hour of comfortable driving you finally parked your car near her favorite shops. “Alright princess, let’s go” you grinned as you opened the passenger door, your hand stretched out to help her out. “Where to first?”

Your first shop was YSL which leighton already left with two begs. Or rather you as you immediately took the bags so she could look around in the next shop which was Balenciaga and then Prada, Givenchy, Versace, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and Tom Ford.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?” The blonde asked as she could barely see you underneath all the bags you carried for her. At least one of each brand, or rather at least two of each brand. She couldn’t deny that it was extremely cute, the way you did all of this for her.

“Positive. Are you sure you don’t wanna go anywhere else anymore?” You asked as she walked back to the car. If you were really quiet you could hear her credit card scream.

“Yeah, but maybe we could go and eat something at a real restaurant?”

“Sure, what did you have in mind?” You asked while putting the bags in the trunk, the blonde standing next to you. After she found a restaurant she liked you made your way there, even from the outside you could see that it was really fancy. “Are you sure I can go inside like this?” You weren’t dressed badly but definitely not as expensive as her which made you unsure of your outfit.

“Of course, you look good” the smile she sent you made your heart beat faster and your face flush a little red. “Now Let’s go, I’m starving” she was out of the car in the matter of seconds, waiting for you to join her. Once you left the car you walked next to each other, your hands constantly brushing against the other ones. You had heard that Leighton was not a big pda fan so you guessed that it was an accident. But you didn’t pull away in case of this being on purpose.

After you guys ate it was already late and the eventful day was catching up to her as she fell asleep in the car. You smiled at the sight, she looked a lot calmer than most of the time and you couldn’t see one bit of the stress from this morning. When you had to stop on a red light you retrieved your jacket from the backseat and put it over her to act like a blanket.

You carefully tapped her shoulder to wake her up which didn’t work. “Leighton, we are here. Cmon, wake up” you whispered and shook her shoulder.

“M awake” she grumbled as her eyes slowly opened.

“Good, take the time that I need to get your backs to wake up okay?” She gave you a small nod before you disappeared, wondering how you carried all those bags before. After you finally got each and every bag on you, you walked back to the passenger seat where Leighton was finally awake.

“Alright, let’s go” she jumped out of the car, your jacket now over her shoulders and her pinky linked with yours as she pulled you along to her dorm. “You can just put them down over there” she told you as she pointed to the corner next to her closet. “Thank you, a lot. The last days were really stressful and today made me forget about it” you smiled at her, taking a step forward.

“It was my pleasure. Weirdly, I can’t think of anything better than carrying your bags for you” she giggles shyly and also takes a step toward you. Your hand gravitates towards her waist while hers carefully rests on your shoulder. You leaned in further, your lips slightly touching as your hand tightened around her waist. But before you could do anything else, Bella came in.

“Leighton! Guess what” she started to scream out, making you pull away quickly. Your hands left her waist and were immediately pushed into your pockets. “Oh my god, did I just cockblock you?” The dark haired girl screamed even louder making both of you cringe.

“No, no you didn’t. I gotta go, I have class really early tomorrow. Thanks again Leigh and I’ll see you around Bella” you quickly left the room without looking back but you could still feel the blondes nerves.

You decided that you’d talk to her tomorrow, it was late and she probably had to listen to Bella ramble about whatever was going on. So tomorrow just seemed like the safer option, at least until it was later the next day and you still haven’t seen her. It was Friday which meant that you didn’t have a course with her and you were extremely busy. But as you were scared that she might think that you were trying to avoid her.

“Sad I didn’t see you today. Sorry I left so quickly, but I couldn’t stay after Bella said whatever she said. Can’t wait to see you again :)”

You took a deep breath before hitting send. By now you were scarred that she might be avoiding you and that she was actually very unhappy about the kiss. What you didn’t know was that Leightons heart started to beat faster when she saw your name pop up on her screen. She was scared of what might now be between you two after you left so suddenly.

“Whose text are you smiling at like that?” Whitney asked as they all sat in the common room. While she did try to annoy her roommate she was more than happy to see her friend like this.

“None of your business” she grumbled, her smile still being very apparent.

“Oh, I bet it’s y/n” Kimberly shyly added. She was good with Leighton but she sometimes still scared her.

“Gosh, they would be a hot ass couple. Y/n’s hot. Damn you’re a lucky lady” Bella said, slapping her hand on the blondes leg which made her glare at her.

“Remember how I said none of your business?” They all laughed as she returned to her phone.

“Get that, wished I could have left too. I thought you were avoiding me. I’ll see you tomorrow right? Are u bringing ur parents to math too?”

You immediately opened the chat, not giving a damn about seeming needy.

“Ofc, that’s the only reason they’re coming. Couldn’t dream of avoiding u, wanna meet up before math tomorrow?”

After you talked about when and where you’d meet tomorrow you texted her goodnight and went to sleep, your mind filled with pictures of the blonde.

The next morning you were up way too early but when your parents came you had to get ready a lot more than normally. “There you are y/n” your mother called out as she walked up to you with open arms, a fake smile on her face. You hugged all of them as a greeting before standing opposite of them.

“Alright, we will go to that parents thing and then we will come to your math class ok?” Your father didn’t wait for an answer as they walked away making you sigh. You, just as many others, were more than happy about this parents thing today. It gave you some peace and quiet.

Leighton was waiting for you in front of the lecture room, the new bag she bought with you slung over her shoulder. “Hey” you smiled shyly as walked up to her, her face adorned with a similar one.

“Hello” she looked around before continuing to talk, “I am so happy about this parent meeting. I was about to kill myself” you laughed nodding.

“You’re telling that to me? My parents asked about this course before asking about me. And I wish I were joking” both of you laughed before just staring at each other for a moment. In a moment of confidence the blonde pulled you into the empty room, she smiled brightly as she noticed that you happily followed.

The moment the door closed, your hands were on her hips and hers were cupping the back of your neck. You didn’t need any words before your lips crashed against each other, her scent developing you whole. Without breaking the kiss you guided her against the wall, her back making harsh contact with it. “Sorry” you mumbled when she gasped, barely breaking the kiss. You kept making out until the blondes phone started to ring.

“Let it ring” she mumbled when she noticed that you were pulling away. You laughed and tried to pull away again but she kept pulling you closer or chasing your lips.

“Leigh, I’d love to keep making out. Trust me. But our parents are gonna come soon and if I had to guess I’d say that this is your dad” you explained as you pulled away, your hands rubbing along her hips. She groaned before looking at her phone, seeing that you were right. With another groan she answered the phone, the arm around your neck keeping you close. Since you got bored when she was on the phone, you started to lightly kiss her neck up and down.

She bit her lip to stop her giggles, but she didn’t push you away. Instead she pulled you even closer, just waiting to hang up. When she finally did, she gave you a quick kiss. “My parents will be here in 10 minutes” she told you, her fingers playing with the baby hair on the back of your neck.

“Then we should probably fix your makeup and my hair huh?” You asked as one of your hands ran through your hair. When you received a nod you opened your hand for her to give you her pocket mirror so she could see what she was doing.

“You’re a great mirror holder babe” she joked when she was done freshening up her makeup and then fixed your hair for you.

“Babe?” You grinned watching her face fall and her confidence suddenly replaced with doubt.

“I mean- yeah, we are- I thought” you decided to interrupt her as her behavior freaked you out. A not confident Leighton was a new world.

“You thought right, I was just messing with you. Cmere” you pulled her closer for another kiss, that quickly turned into multiple small pecks.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N” your mothers voice suddenly rang.

Gosh, you were fucked.

[feyhunter78]

I just found your page and I totally didn’t read all of your Miguel O’Hara fics. One I love how you write kissing you caught that spark off a kiss with someone you love in a way most books don’t get right.

I can’t sit here and sing your praise all day but I do have a question. Fully up to you and if it’s just a Drabble that ok but will you ever being writing something else for Side walk kisses? It’s so cute and I can see more moments with Miguel and Y/N just being silly cute mindless college students so helplessly in love. Fluff smut angst whatever you decide to Drabble in I will be fully ok with

(This is the first time I’ve done an ask so sorry I I seem a little over excited)

AHHH I love when I'm people's first asks, it always makes me feel so special!!! I thought I'd try my hand at a bit of angst for you anon!

Insecurities

You know you shouldn’t be jealous. Shouldn’t feel bad about yourself, shouldn’t be debating making up some excuse and dashing off to the humanities building to rid yourself of this pit in your stomach like a snake sheds its skin.

But that would require leaving Miguel alone with Xina, and you think you’d rather die than do that. So, you’re stuck in the courtyard right outside the library, holding onto Miguel’s bicep possessively as you struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation.

Now you wouldn’t say you’re an insecure person, sure you have your insecurities like everyone else, but they don’t plague your mind, or weigh heavily on you as you go about your day-to-day business. Right now, though? As you take in Xina, her long thick dark hair, her stunning almond eyes that sparkle with intelligence, the flawlessness of her skin, the way she so easily keeps up with Miguel as they discuss the intersection between genetics and robotics, you’re feeling pretty insecure.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, when making your calculations you have to factor in the deficiencies in the code, just as you have to factor in potential genetic flaws.” Xina says, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips, excitement clear on her face.

“Of course, with genetics it’s harder to eradicate flaws than in code, but I could see it following a similar pattern.” Miguel responds, nodding at her words.

You’re so lost. If they wanted to discuss the intricacies of the English language or the way philosophers can so heavily affect the development of a nation’s culture you would be there, front row and ready, but science? Science is not your forte.

Xina laughs and smacks Miguel’s arm, pulling you out of your thoughts, Miguel is laughing too so you do the same which draws her attention to you.

“Oh, y/n, I’m so sorry, we’ve been so rude, what do you think?” She asks, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely curious, or just hates you.

You stumble for a moment, then say, “I agree with Miguel.”

She laughs again. “You think Charles Darwin would be a good computer programmer?”

Miguel joins in, and for the first time ever his laughter sounds sour to your ears.

“Oh, um, no, I just—”

Xina smiles sympathetically at you, but it feels a bit patronizing. “It’s okay, not everyone can keep up with us.”

Okay, maybe running and hiding was a good idea.

“Y/N is actually top of her sorority for GPA, she’s read more books than anyone else I know, and she helps me write all my lab reports.” Miguel jumps in.

“That’s so cute.” Xina coos, looking at you as if you were a kindergartener presenting her with a crayon scribbled drawing.

You give her a tight smile, then squeeze Miguel’s bicep. “Hey, I’m gonna head to class, but I’ll see you later?”

He nods, and lets you go, reabsorbed in his conversation with Xina.

You toy with the bracelet Miguel got you as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. It’s a pretty thing, a birthday present, simple and elegant, highlighting your birthstone, the words, mi dulce, engraved on the inside in a small, flowy script. It jingles pleasantly as you mess with it, and glints under the florescent lights.

“The professor isn’t here yet, right?” Kelsey slides into her desk next to you and starts unpacking her bag.

“No, he’s running a little late.” You say, absentmindedly shading one corner of the blank page in your notebook with your pencil.

“Okay, good because I have something kinda fucked up to show you.” She says, pulling out her phone and scrolling until she finds what she’s looking for.

You lean towards her, the thought of gossip perking you up a bit.

“So, you know that Ava girl, the bitch who used to date your man?”

“I wish I didn’t, but yes.” You grumble, feeling that familiar gloom settle back over you.

“Okay well she’s been trying to get with this Kappa Sig, and you know how the brothers are like obsessed with me because my brother is their president and an absolute legend as they always remind me.”

“Yeah, it’s the reason we got into their parties freshman year.”

Kelsey’s brother was a decent guy, all things considered. Older than you two by a year or so, with the charisma of a cult leader but lacking the desire to start a cult. Throughly satisfied with his fraternity and the Fortune 500 company he’ll go on to work at once he graduates. He was nice enough, extending his protection to you and anyone else close to his sister while in the Kappa Sig house.

“So, one of them texted me about her trying to sleep her way through the frat, but then, my brother sent me this video. I gotta warn you, it’s not school appropriate.” She says as she slowly turns the screen towards you.

At first, you recoil. It’s Ava, half naked, and some guy, on a bed that looks vaguely familiar. The guy’s face is out of the frame, but he’s shirtless, his pants pushed down exposing his dick to the camera, Ava’s hand wrapped around it pumping furiously. “Um, what the fuck is this?”

“Just wait.” Kelsey says quietly, glancing around the room to make sure no one else is watching. They’re not, they’re too busy with their own phones or side conversations.

You half watch the video, feeling weird about watching, your idea of a good time isn’t watching your boyfriend’s psycho ex jack some guy off.

The guy finishes, his hips bucking and Ava saying something you can’t hear since Kelsey’s sound is off.

The camera shakes as Ava picks it up and shows off the face of the man. Dark hair, glazed brown eyes with hints of crimson, perfectly formed lips parted. You know that face, but you don’t want to accept it.

“Is that Miguel?” You’re horrified, sick to your stomach, head spinning, every unpleasant feeling and sensation you could feel erupting all at once.

You can see Ava go to grab his face, guide him lower, moving to take off her underwear, and you turn your head, unable to watch any longer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know when it was filmed, but Darren said he had one of the brothers send it to him yesterday then made all of them delete the video from their phones. He knows Miguel’s your boyfriend, said he was just looking out for you.” Kelsey puts away her phone and looks at you, eyes searching your face, before giving you a one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry y/n, I can ask him to see if he can find out when it was filmed?”

You want to cry, you really, really want to cry. “It looks recent, that’s Miguel’s bed, I’ve been there, I’ve slept on that bed, I—I can’t think about this right now. Thank you for telling me, and tell your brother I said thanks too.”

Kelsey nods and squeezes you tighter before letting go and giving you a sad smile.

The professor finally shows up, and you throw yourself into your notetaking, graphite digging into the pristine white paper as you try to drown out the images in your head with the sound of your professor droning on.

Part 2 here!!!

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho

[st4rb3rries]

the main 4 meeting you for the first time

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (all aged up 17-18)

summary; reactions and meeting you

warnings; cussing and suggestive language

a/n; hopefully you guys understand the kyle and stan one😭

how kyle and stan met you:

you met them senior year. they saw your fine ass in class and were like "gawd dayum 😍😍🔥❤️" NAH JK kyle and stan secretly talked shit about you because you were the smartest in class. (they haven't even talked to you once) it was mostly kyle because he was jealous of your academic intelligence.

kyle: "who does she think she is acting like a goody two shoes and she shouldn't even be talking with that big ass forehead her calculations aren't even correct dude i'm totally way smarter than y/n🙄"

stan: "ong bruh like her forehead is bigger than my relationship with my dad😭 and no one can outsmart my super best friend dude🤨"

y/n: ....

like y'all sit close by each other in class and they still have the audacity to talk shit😭. they weren't even slick either you could clearly hear them but they thought you couldn't.

but one day things changed. they were struggling in algebra so you decided to help them. out of the kindness of your heart? no. the teacher told you to help them. this was the moment that would change everything.

y/n: "hi do you need some help it looks like you guys are struggling"

kyle: "no were fine we don't need your help"

stan: "yeah dude you can go away, kyle is way smarter than you we don't need you"

kyle: "yeah that's right i'm smarter than you punk so you can go away now🤓"

y/n: "ok kyle why did you pick 'd' instead of 'c' for number 1🥱"

kyle: "WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS D HOW COU-"

stan: "DUDE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE US FAIL"

y/n: "ah look at that so you need my help after all"

stan and kyle: "smart ass"

y/n: "what was that hm?"

kyle: "smart class"

stan: "y-yeah we have a smart class😇"

y/n: "i know you guys talk shit about me don't think your so slick"

stan and kyle: 😮😮

they stopped talking bad about you. since you found out you started "helping" them more and they both started getting to know you better. even though they still had their attitude. and with all that helping there formed a friendship<3.

how cartman and kenny met you:

you also met them senior year. you however only met them because you decided to ditch class and do your business under the bleachers. both of them have seen you in class and they know your smart. they just didn't really care about you though.

*you walk over to the bleachers*

cartman: "oh shit teachers, RUN KENNY'

y/n: "im not a teacher wtf😭 "

they got scared there for a minute. but they weren't anymore until they recognized your annoying voice. cartman and kenny also thought you would never ditch class because your so smart🤨. (they were generally surprised)

cartman: "sorry there's no nerdy bitches allowed😘"

kenny: "you can be my nerdy bitch😏"

y/n: "and that's why your moms should've swallowed both of you when she had the chance."

cartman: 😮

kenny: "HAHAHAH" *bros tryna get into them baggy jeans💀*

cartman: "what the hell are you even doing here"

y/n: "no what are you doing here🤨"

cartman: "ditching class duh you dumb slut🙄"

y/n: "ok tubby well i need both of you to leave"

kenny: "why🥹"

y/n: "don't worry about it"

kenny: "YES MA'AM😍"

unfortunately they stayed because they're nosy as hell. anyways after they both saw you make money by doing peoples homework. they had mad respect for you. cartman was even a bit jealous that you came up with so much money. kenny on the other hand was wondering if you provide other types of services🤔.

cartman: " here y/n take this why don't we talk for a bit"

y/n: "are these crushed up smarties🤨"

kenny: "ya you can smoke em' or snort em' "

y/n: "y'all can't afford the real stuff💀?"

cartman: "so about your services, i'd like to be your manager i can make you stronger and smarter"

y/n: "do you have a gpa of 4.0"

kenny: "does 2.8 count"

cartman: "kenny stfu im tryna make us some money here"

cartman: "anyways so-"

after talking with them you agreed. but little did know that agreement was gonna be a long one. both of them truly admired your hard work and at some point it wasn't about the money. they really just liked hanging out with you😭.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

The Price of Success 1

Dark! Peter Parker x Clementine! Reader

Summary: Clementine has fought tooth and nail to achieve her dream of attending a prestigious university. Balancing her demanding workload, a suffocating home life, and financial strain, she’ll do whatever it takes to stay afloat. Enter Peter Parker: wealthy, charming, and unexpectedly fixated on her. When he offers a proposition that could solve all her problems, Clementine reluctantly agrees—unaware she’s stepping into a carefully constructed trap. What begins as a transactional relationship spirals into something far darker as Peter’s true intentions come to light.

Warnings: This story contains dark themes, including manipulation, psychological and emotional abuse, unhealthy relationships, non-consensual elements, obsessive behavior, gaslighting, loss of autonomy, familial neglect, and power imbalances. Please read at your own discretion.

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Series Masterlist

The acceptance letter had been the happiest moment of my life. A full scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in the country. I’d held that envelope in my hands like it was a golden ticket to freedom, the first real step toward building the life I’d always dreamed of.

The excitement didn’t last long.

Reality hit the moment I read the fine print: the scholarship only covered tuition. Books, fees, transportation—those were on me. And then there was the rent. My parents had made it clear they expected me to contribute if I was going to live under their roof, and I couldn’t argue. Their obvious favoritism toward my sister Mandarin aside, they were still housing and feeding me, even if they did make it obvious how much they preferred their elder daughter.

So, I juggled everything I could. Work-study shifts at the library, odd jobs on weekends, and tutoring sessions during the evenings. Every dollar was carefully calculated, every spare moment filled with something productive. I couldn’t afford distractions—not if I wanted to stay ahead.

Most of my tutoring clients were typical: students trying to keep their heads above water, hoping I could help them avoid flunking out of calculus or pass their literature midterms. And then there was Peter.

Peter Parker was the anomaly.

One of the wealthiest students on campus, heir to Stark & Parker, and seemingly brilliant, it made no sense for him to need tutoring, especially from me. Yet there he was, week after week, with his easy smile and an energy that made it hard not to notice him. He was always happy to see me, greeting me like an old friend, even when I was running on fumes.

I didn’t get it. People like him didn’t usually cross paths with people like me, and they certainly didn’t pay me to help them with things they could easily hire professionals for. He had come to the school with his high school sweetheart, MJ, but I’d stopped seeing them together as much lately. Not that I cared. Peter’s personal life wasn’t any of my business, and I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Every time my mind tried to wander to why Peter always booked sessions or what had happened with MJ, I stopped myself. I had bigger priorities: scraping together enough money for books this semester, keeping my GPA high enough to maintain my scholarship, and balancing work-study shifts with my other jobs. I didn’t need another puzzle to solve, and Peter Parker wasn’t worth the mental energy.

“Thanks for squeezing me in,” Peter said one evening, setting his bag on the desk as he took a seat across from me. His grin was as warm and casual as ever, like he hadn’t just walked out of a glossy magazine shoot.

“No problem,” I said, pulling out my notes and forcing myself to focus. “What are we working on today?”

The corners of his mouth tugged up as he leaned back, looking way too relaxed. “You know, the usual. Just trying to stay sharp.”

I rolled my eyes internally but kept my tone professional. If he wanted to throw money at me for sessions he didn’t need, I wasn’t going to complain.

I pushed through the front door, exhaustion hanging off me like a weight. My legs ached from crisscrossing campus all day, my bag felt like it was filled with bricks, and all I wanted to do was to collapse in my bed. It had been one of those days where the thought of quiet and solitude was the only thing keeping me moving.

The house was quieter than usual. The TV wasn’t on, and for once, there weren’t any shouting matches or background noises of Mandarin’s baby shower planning blasting through the walls. I didn’t think much of it as I made my way upstairs, kicking off my shoes as I went.

The hallway was too still. A chill ran down my spine as I approached my room, the door cracked open just slightly. Something was off.

When I pushed it open all the way, the breath hitched in my throat.

Gone.

Everything.

My bed, my desk, my books, even the posters I’d spent hours arranging, were all gone. The walls were bare, and the closet door was hanging half-open to reveal emptiness. In the corner, a few boxes with my name hastily scrawled across them sat stacked like afterthoughts.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath. My pulse started racing as I backed into the hallway. “Mom? Dad?”

I followed the faint sound of voices to Mandarin’s room. The door was wide open, and there they were: Mom, Dad, and Mandarin, chatting like nothing was out of the ordinary. Mandarin sat on her bed, flipping through a baby catalog, while Dad held a measuring tape and gestured toward the window.

Mom glanced over her shoulder when I stepped into the doorway. “Oh, Clementine. You’re home.”

“Yeah, I’m home,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “Where’s all my stuff?”

Dad straightened, tucking the measuring tape into his pocket. “It’s in the basement. We talked about this.”

“No,” I said firmly, “we didn’t talk about anything.”

Mandarin didn’t even bother looking up from her magazine. “Come on, Clem. You spend all your time at school anyways.”

I ignored her, keeping my focus on my parents. “Why is my stuff in the basement?”

Mom gave me that dismissive look I knew too well. “Mandarin needs more space with the baby coming. It made the most sense.”

“The basement smells like mold,” I shot back, my voice rising. “It’s not even finished!”

“Then you can figure something else out,” Dad said, his tone flat and final. “We’re not here to argue about this. You have options.”

I stared at him, trying to process the audacity. “Oh, do I? What options?”

“Stay in the basement,” he said, crossing his arms, “or find somewhere else to live.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Of course. Right. Because heaven forbid Mandarin doesn’t get everything handed to her on a silver platter.”

“Clementine, stop,” Mom snapped, her tone sharp. “Your sister is pregnant, and she needs our support right now. It’s time you learned to compromise.”

I felt my teeth clench, the anger bubbling under my skin. “Compromise,” I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Got it.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and headed downstairs. When I reached the basement, the smell hit me immediately—stale and damp, like wet concrete that never dried. Flicking on the light, I took in the sight of my life crammed into a dank corner: boxes stacked haphazardly, my mattress leaning against the wall, and a few trash bags stuffed with my clothes and books.

I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The corners of the room were shadowy, and the single overhead bulb flickered weakly. This wasn’t a bedroom. This wasn’t even close.

I let out a long, steadying breath and started sifting through the mess. My boxes were stacked precariously, a mix of clothes, books, and random knickknacks crammed together like afterthoughts. The mattress leaned against the damp wall, taunting me with its mildew-stained edges.

As much as I hated the thought of it, I knew I had no other choice tonight. I rummaged through the chaos until I found a dusty, folded plastic tarp shoved into one corner of the basement. I shook it out, coughing as a cloud of stale air hit me. It wasn’t much, but it would keep the mattress from soaking up any more of the dampness.

I laid the tarp out on the floor, smoothing it over the cracked concrete before dragging the mattress on top of it. It creaked under my weight as I tested it, the smell of mold and stale air hitting me harder now that I was so close to the floor. My stomach churned, but I forced myself to breathe through my mouth.

“It’s fine,” I whispered to myself, my voice thin in the silence. “You’ll figure this out, you always do.”

I grabbed a blanket from one of the boxes, wrapped it around me, and tried to settle in. The basement was cold, and the air felt heavier down here, like it was pressing down on me with every shallow breath. My head sank into my pillow, and I stared up at the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling.

I closed my eyes, willing my mind to quiet. But the thoughts kept coming.

I couldn’t afford to let this situation derail me. My future—the stability I was working towards—was too important.

The smell of mold lingered as I drifted off, and for the first time in a long time, I prayed for morning to come quickly.

The alarm on my phone buzzed like an angry wasp, dragging me from a restless sleep. I groaned, swiping at it clumsily until the noise stopped. The single bulb overhead flickered weakly, casting uneven light over the room. I rubbed my eyes, the musty smell of the basement making my throat feel tight. The mattress under me offered little relief from the cold floor despite the plastic tarp I’d laid down beneath it. My back protested as I sat up, every joint stiff from another uncomfortable night.

“Just get through today,” I whispered to myself, my voice sounding hollow in the empty space.

I shuffled to the corner where I kept my bag and rummaged for something clean to wear. Most of my clothes were wrinkled and smelled faintly of the basement’s dampness no matter how much fabric softener I used. I settled on a hoodie and jeans, pulling them on quickly as the clock on my phone reminded me, I was already behind schedule. I grabbed a granola bar from the box near my bed and forced myself to eat it as I climbed the stairs to the kitchen.

The house was quiet—eerily so. I should’ve been relieved, but instead, it put me on edge. I finished the granola bar in a few quick bites, rinsed my hands in the sink, and stuffed my bag with a notebook, my second-hand laptop, and a couple of pens.

As I made my way to the door, Mandarin’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “Clementine.”

She stood at the end of the hallway, perfectly put together as always, her swollen belly barely slowing her down. Her phone was in one hand, her other propped on her hip. She didn’t bother looking up as she spoke, her tone clipped and dismissive.

“Don’t forget the baby shower is next month. Mom wants you to help set up. You know, since you don’t have much else going on.”

My jaw clenched, but I forced a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Her eyes finally met mine, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re always so busy, aren’t you?”

I didn’t reply, brushing past her and heading for the door. Mandarin had mastered the art of making me feel small with the least amount of effort. She didn’t need to yell or insult me outright. She just needed to exist in a way that constantly reminded me how little I mattered in this house.

Outside, the brisk morning air was a sharp contrast to the damp, stale air of the basement. I took a deep breath, relishing the momentary freedom, before starting my trek to campus. By the time I arrived, I was already late for my shift at the library.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I slipped behind the counter. My supervisor gave me a brief, disapproving look but didn’t say anything.

The next few hours passed in a blur of shelving books, organizing returns, and answering questions from students who were as lost as I often felt. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was steady, and every dollar I earned brought me closer to buying the textbooks I still needed for class. I made a mental note to check the used bookstore near campus on my next day off.

When my shift ended, I barely had time to grab a sandwich before heading to my tutoring session. My stomach growled as I unwrapped it, taking quick bites as I hurried across campus. The bread was stale, the meat thin, but it was enough to keep me going for a little while longer.

This was my life now—rushing from one responsibility to the next, with no time to breathe or even think. There was no room for error, no margin for rest. And I couldn’t afford to let myself slow down. Not when the alternative was falling behind and losing everything, I’d been working so hard for.

The next few weeks passed in a haze of monotony and exhaustion. My days blurred together: rushing from work-study shifts to odd jobs, tutoring sessions squeezed in wherever I could manage, and nights spent trying to catch up on coursework. Sleep became an afterthought, something I craved but never seemed to have enough time for. Home was no better—a pit stop between the chaos, where I was reminded of how little space I occupied in my family’s lives.

One evening, I dragged myself through the front door, my bag heavy on my shoulder and my legs screaming for a break. Mandarin was sprawled across the couch, her swollen belly propped up like a badge of honor. She held a tub of ice cream in one hand, her other arm draped over the back of the couch. Her eyes flicked up as I walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“You know,” she started, her voice taking on that patronizing tone I hated, “you could chip in more around here. Mom and Dad are already doing so much for you.”

I dropped my bag by the stairs, forcing myself to stay calm. “I pay rent,” I said flatly.

She snorted, a sharp, dismissive sound. “Barely,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Meanwhile, I have a baby on the way.”

Before I could respond, Mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Clementine, would you come here please.”

I sighed, glancing toward the kitchen doorway. “What is it?” I asked, already bracing myself.

Mom appeared, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her expression already irritated. “Your sister’s been working so hard on her baby shower,” she said, her tone pointed. “The least you could do is help her with the invitations. She needs you right now.”

“I have an essay to write,” I said simply, turning toward the basement stairs.

Mom’s tone sharpened, cutting through the air like a knife. “You can write your essay later, Clementine. Mandarin needs you.”

I froze for a moment, the words hanging between us like a challenge. My jaw clenched as I looked at her, but I swallowed the anger rising in my chest. “I’ll help later,” I muttered, not waiting for a response as I descended the stairs.

The basement felt even colder than usual, the cold air clinging to my skin as I dropped my bag on the makeshift desk I’d cobbled together from an old table and a stack of boxes. I sat down heavily, staring at the flickering light overhead. Help her? Mandarin doesn’t even pay rent. She barely lifts a finger around the house, but somehow, I’m the one who’s supposed to be bending over backward?

I rubbed my temples, trying to push the frustration aside. There was no point in dwelling on it. If I let myself spiral, I’d lose the focus I desperately needed to make it through another day. I pulled out my laptop and opened my notes for class, forcing my mind to zero in on my essay.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I found myself staring at the blank screen, the weight of everything pressing down on me. This house. This family. I was falling apart.

Peter was already seated at our usual spot in the library when I arrived for our tutoring session. The sunlight streaming through the large windows gave the place a serene glow, but I barely noticed as I dragged myself toward the table, my bag feeling heavier than usual.

“Hey, Clementine!” Peter greeted, his voice cheerful and unmistakably chipper. He stood up slightly, pulling out the chair across from him. “How’s it going?”

I dropped my bag onto the table and slid into the seat without much fanfare. “Busy,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “What do you want to go over today?”

He leaned back casually, his ever-present grin plastered on his face. “The usual. I’m still stuck on those problem sets.”

I glanced at him, skeptical. His notes were neatly written, his assignments impeccably organized. “You’re doing fine,” I said, flipping through his work. “Honestly, I’m not sure you even need me.”

He laughed lightly, shrugging as though he hadn’t just paid for another session he didn’t actually need. “What can I say? I like having the extra help.”

As we worked through the material, Peter’s tone stayed light, his questions a mix of academic and personal. “So,” he said, tapping his pen against the edge of the table, “how’s school treating you? Surviving the semester?”

“Barely,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the textbook.

“What about after graduation?” he pressed. “Got any big plans?”

I kept my answers clipped. “Hopefully a job in my field. That’s the goal, then I can work from there.”

He didn’t push, just nodded thoughtfully. For a moment, I wondered if he could sense how little I wanted to talk about myself.

Halfway through the session, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you ever, like, take a break? Just... relax?”

I snorted. “Who has time for that?”

His grin widened, but there was a flicker of something more serious in his expression. “Maybe you should make time. You work too hard. I can tell”

I froze for a second, caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, well,” I said, closing his textbook with a definitive thud, “not everyone has the luxury of coasting through life.”

The words came out sharper than I intended, and I immediately regretted it. But Peter didn’t flinch. Instead, he nodded slowly, his smile softening. “Fair enough,” he said, his tone calm and understanding.

When the session was over, I quickly began packing up my things, eager to move on to the next thing on my endless to-do list. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter watching me, his gaze steady and unreadable.

As I slung my bag over my shoulder, a fleeting thought crossed my mind: What was Peter’s deal? Why was he always so cheerful, so eager to chat during these sessions?

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. I didn’t have time to dwell on Peter Parker’s personal life. My own life was more than enough to keep me occupied.

“Thanks, Clementine,” Peter said as I turned to leave, his tone as bright as ever.

“See you next week,” I replied over my shoulder, already mentally bracing myself for whatever came next.

Late one night, after a long shift at the library, I sat cross-legged on my mattress, staring at my scholarship paperwork. The dim glow from my desk lamp illuminated the pages, the words blurring together as exhaustion weighed heavy on my eyes. Still, I forced myself to keep reading.

This scholarship was my lifeline. Without it, there’d be no way for me to stay in school, no future worth fighting for. I thought back to the moment I got the acceptance letter, that surge of joy and relief. At the time, it felt like my hard work was finally paying off. Now, that joy felt like a distant memory, swallowed by the relentless pressure of keeping everything afloat.

The buzz of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. A notification from my bank app lit up the screen, the pitiful balance mocking me with every digit. Textbooks, rent, and now the looming cost of Mandarin’s baby shower decorations, all of it hung over me like a storm cloud.

I sighed, setting the phone down and running a hand through my hair. “One step at a time,” I whispered to myself. “Just get through this semester.”

The basement around me was far from ideal, but I’d done my best to make it livable. Rugs covered the cold, damp floor, and a string of fairy lights provided a soft glow that made the space feel a little less suffocating. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had for now.

As I sorted through a box of books, a faint creak from the pipes overhead caught my attention. I paused, looking up at the exposed plumbing that crisscrossed the ceiling. A tiny drip escaped, landing on the corner of the box I’d just unpacked, leaving a dark spot on the cardboard.

“Great,” I muttered, pulling the box out of the way and wiping the damp spot with my sleeve.

Grabbing an old towel from the pile of laundry in the corner, I tossed it over the wet patch on the floor. My gaze lingered on the pipes, frowning at the faint groans that echoed through the basement. I made a mental note to talk to Dad about it, though I already knew how that conversation would go. He’d probably shrug it off, tell me to figure it out myself.

I sank back onto the mattress, staring at the low ceiling above me as the sounds of the house settled into an uneasy silence. The groaning pipes, the faint drip of water, the muffled noises of Mandarin’s TV upstairs—it all blurred into white noise.

“This is temporary,” I whispered, clutching the blanket tightly. “Just a stepping stone. I just have to be patient.”

The words echoed in my mind, a mantra I repeated like a lifeline. But as the pipes creaked again and the damp air pressed against my lungs, I couldn’t ignore the gnawing doubt in the back of my mind. How long could I keep telling myself that?

[friedchickenluver]

Oml, okay I’m sorry this kinda late but I’ve been working on it since i first got it trust me. I originally had another draft for it but then that and the request got deleted somehow .😭

But the request basically asked for an innocent, naive, virgin reader x miguel so this goes out to my anon whos been waiting so patiently :3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: 𝙖 𝙨𝙡𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩���𝙤𝙣

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊’𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙭 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠!𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙫𝙚!𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠, 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.7k+

───※ ·❆· ※───

Miguel obviously notices you from the first day you walked in for your interview, you were so apparent with the way your coyness carried the majority of your outer persona; and it was oddly appealing to him. He couldn’t tell you why of course, he couldn’t tell his damn self either, but something so magnetic about how you were just all bright-eyed and everything destructive seemed to fly over your prudish head. All you focused on were projects, work, test runs, everything a good employee worries about. All you would talk about is how you could possibly help with group projects, all that needed to be done or worked on.

Nothing more, just work. He tells himself everyday, mentally that it shouldn’t have to be a problem that you’re exclusively interested in only your studies, In fact, it’s what his life is in dear need of in the midst of all this chaos that comes with the great responsibility of being a CEO.

Yet, he couldn’t help but to be so woefully curious about you, it’s in his blood to want to learn more, expand his knowledge even to places some may consider a bit extreme. Like an obsession, but he’d never admit that to not even himself. Nothing wrong with harmlessly getting to know you. Right?

In everything that you do, he can’t resist to admire.

Your work ethic was insatiable, it looked like you could do this whole thing all day and night. Problem solving, critical, yet abstract thinking. He could easily do those things without much struggle, as he’s been doing it for nearly his whole life. However when you do it, he suddenly feels outdone, and he hasn’t felt that way since his close friend Allen had gotten 2 points higher on his GPA calculation back in high school. Enough said, this man was left fascinated with your character, so he would try everything in his willpower to work with you, getting information out of you as subtly as possible.

And you, dear god have mercy on his heart, were so charming, so bubbly, as ready for life and all that it throws randomly in your direction. That could never be Miguel, he’s all too drowned within the harsh depths of cynicism, that all views on the greater side seemed impossible for him to even grasp. You, however, made him want to live just a little longer. Your energy gave him a better taste of life, and sure you weren’t perfect literally, but obsession overcame his all making you look flawless in his eyes. Oh, he didn’t care, he didn’t care at all,

He craved more from you, a whole lot more of that sugary innocence. To find out what was underneath that said exterior.

Little quips about how good you looked when you came in everyday, or how great you were at your work, only flew over your head. Nothing. Absolutely nothing came of it. Frustrating, yes, but the chase was so fun, he’d get lost in it. Was it wrong for the man to want to break that pure, untainted demeanor, have her all for himself? Make sure that if anyone was going to break that sweet top layer, that it was going to be him. Because, oh god, were you gorgeous. Men from all over the workplace tried their wits on you and it never worked no matter how outright dirty it was. You could only grow heat in your cheeks, and an awkward giggle would breathe itself out from past your lips, “Sorry, I, uh…need to get back to my test run for my group project. Have a good day sir!”

Miguel was going to finesse his way into your panties one way or another, but respectfully of course. He’s a gentleman at heart, and if other guys weren’t going to capture your interests, he definitely was.

You find yourself laughing aloud at remarks he would make in those moments when you two were alone and in the comfort of a shared lab room. Those relaxed eyes followed your every mannerism, studying your identity with great attention. And on the rare moments, you’d squeeze a genuine grin from the taller man, flashy the sexiest smile you’ve ever laid eyes on. Damn him, the effect he held over you was embarrassingly obvious, but you couldn’t help but to be so allured by his own character.

Like the other day, you could’ve sworn your sweet pussy throbbed at the way his voice dropped whilst having a one-on-one conversation in a more compact testing room.

Sex was a topic you without a doubt knew was there, that’s not what you were here for though. Work and a paycheck was all that was to come out of this job. At least before meeting Miguel…Goodness. Yes, you hadn’t had a sexual encounter prior to this, because losing something so closely intimate to you was a bit of a struggle to want to give up. You needed the right person, but you also hated rejection with a passion. And guess where that has you. Still a virgin unfortunately.

Miguel tries to get under your skin for days, even weeks. He uses all his best flirtations and remarks that seemed to get all the other women he was with riled up somehow. But, you were like catching a chicken. It took alot for him to somehow convince you into his bed. That was until he outright told you what he wanted one night while you were over at his place.

“Let me sleep with you…in the name of science.”

ఌఌఌఌఌ

A rather large hand possessing a quite wide palm, rough on its innermost side, grabbed a firm hold onto your neck. Yet, a contrasting feeling of soft lips crashed onto yours in a fitful passion of a kiss that had begun between the two. Miguel’s knee massaged methodically around her soaked heat, and you bucked into the delicious friction so eagerly. Another hand accompanied around the other side of your neck, having both of his hands choking you up by resting his thumbs comfortably onto the front of your throat.

You couldn’t help but to crumble, and melt, and even submit, to his whims as he promptly takes the lead in your first time. His tongue that shoved itself against yours, then going off to explore each and every inch of your heated mouth, slicking his own wet saliva onto yours. Your body practically burned on the inside of your gut, rutting and grinding roughly down on his thigh, adjusting forward so that his pretty girl could please herself all ways possible.

Want, isn’t a good enough word to describe the overwhelming feeling of her boss’s body flush against her own fleshy body. He pressed on her throat to elicit a choked groan from you, pushing your head completely back up on the wall. Taking easy advantage of your mouth being left agape, he conjured up a wad of spit just to shoot it down into your mouth. Your eyes rolled once he caught your lips again, making quick work to your clothes, nearly tearing them apart. Your top was easily discarded off of your body, falling into a but a clump of cloth on the floor.

The two of you pulled back, lips still in some form of contact, a slim strand of saliva connecting your faces. It’s so damn hot, being this close to someone felt so surreal for you, your pussy couldn’t help but feel the same way. You were so fucking wet, you’d think you probably peed on yourself, but no. It’s just him.

“Miguel, I-“

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, leaving any kind of marks he could leave. Suckling, teasing, and leaving fleeting kisses fluttering across your porcelain skin. You went for his belt, he went for your bra. Oddly enough it was like second nature for him to know how to undo a bra, you on the other hand were struggling a bit to seem experienced trying to unbuckle his belt with just one hand.

Miguel only picked you up, your legs wrapping around him tightly, the sudden action threw you completely off guard whilst trying to take off his belt. Noticing his bulge was poking at your cunt you noticed something.

Oh. Goodness, he was huge. And he was so achingly hard too.

Heat formulated in your face, thinking about how it looked, how it would be inside of you.

You ended up falling into some soft duvets on the surface of his bed, he rested his forearms beside either side of your head before coming down to steal another kiss from you. Your hand began to leisurely slide along your body, on and on until you reached for your folds. A finger found itself on your clit, starting to slowly massage it in minor circular motions. You tried rubbing up and down, flicking your clit delicately to earn more slickness between your legs. The man above you was kind enough to slide your bottoms and panties down for you, and god were they damp. He tossed them back onto the floor, as you would open your legs wider to stroke the bundle of candy sweet nerves slightly faster than before.

Some mewls fell loosely from your mouth as you toyed with yourself, enjoying every, single, sensation. Miguel continued to press his lips, mapping his way around your body, taking note of all of your body language. Suddenly, his tongue peaked out from out of his mouth, licking down your body towards your sex. You only continued to play with yourself teasing your incoming orgasm, and he brought his mouth at the bottom of your pussy, starting from the beginning of your folds, licking upwards making it to your orifice. Before you know it he’s burying his skilled tongue inside of you, deeply.

The way you would arch into his tongue, leaning onto its soft, pink flesh, you felt like you were losing touch with your mind.

“Faster. Come for me, come for this tongue.” He groaned softly against your lips, continuing on to plunging his tongue right back into you. You cried out, bringing your legs to lock his face hot against your pussy jerking around a bit feeling an impending orgasm to spurt itself from inside of you. He split open your clit, rolling and tasting out your inner flesh. Pulling it gently between his lips by suctioning it back into his mouth, not letting up the work that he put his tongue through.

Miguel swallowed, sucking her pussy up to and from his mouth, combining his actions to earn proper moans from the woman below him.

He practically couldn’t get enough of you. You tasted as good as you sounded when you talked numbers and calculations, and he was one suction away from just locking his jaw on your clit and abusing it with his tongue.

But, he did, however, have to control himself at least somewhat. Even if you did want exactly just that.

Bringing his forearms to interlock your legs in place, and taking his thumbs to spread you open to have your pussy all on display to his dark gaze. Oh, you felt like you were going to tap out already, too early in the game that you two were playing. But deep down, you craved for oh, so much more and you didn’t want things to end just yet.

Him groaning and cursing against you, sent shivers caressing up and down your spine. Those grunts about how good you tasted reverberated throughout not only your body and core, but your mind. It got so real at this point now and you never wanted to stop. All those fantasies about this man shoving his fat dick, cervical deep in you until his balls would spank harshly against your ass due to his unforgiving treatment. You two could finally act on it, after weeks of teasing and prodding at one another.

Your throat was already running dry, as you finally came undone, creaming rather intensely from him being so good at eating you out. You would come all over his tongue, also happening to get a bit on the tip of his nose, but he didn’t care. Long as he got to shove his face in between those drooling lips, he was a-ok. Taking the cum in his mouth, he met back up with you at eye-level, grabbing your throat once again before prompting you to open up your mouth again. You obliged, letting him feed you back your taste from when you came on his tongue so you could know how amazing you tasted to him, the liquid sliding so steadily out from the back of his mouth into yours.

Immediately after the long string of saliva soon dissipated, his lips were back on yours as passionate as ever.

Miguel wanted you badly at this point, any more foreplay could knock his mental unstable. With the way your body begged for attention, reducing you down to a needy little slut who just wanted to feel it again.

“Please. Do it to me Miguel.”

Miguel pressed your legs backwards onto the mattress not caring if you’re that flexible enough, shifting all of most of his body weight to hold your legs back and in place.

“I can’t give you what you want unless you actually tell me, mami.”

You watched intently, Miguel now ridding himself free of his own clothes. As soon as he pulled off his shirt, it revealed the beautiful array of pure toned muscle, displaying his flawless, olive skin.

All for me, you thought, for tonight at least.

He made quick work of his pants and boxer briefs, and there it was. He was without a doubt big, like, pornstar big. Its tip was a brownish-red, and along its girthy base, two visible pulsing veins ran their way down to his pelvis.

You nearly passed just looking at the damn size, head falling back onto the mattress in speechlessness.

“Miguellll, I want your dick baby, show mami how bad it gets. Please.”

Miguel laid down back on top of her heated form, pushing her legs all the way back until her thighs were touching the mattress, and threw her shins over his shoulders. He aligned himself perfectly over her entrance, the tip of his dick pressing directly over your pussy. Now, since you were indeed a virgin it took a good minute of struggle to actually slide it in. He had to readjust a couple of times, and slick his length up somehow in order for him to fit. It wasn’t long however before he at last pushed inside, but very slowly of course, taking in mind that you were tight as shit and never been penetrated any time prior.

“Mhmmm, there it is baby..breathe for me.”

You began to cry, genuine tears. Not out of sadness or anger obviously, but out of never being stretched so much in your life. She could only choke and trip over any sense of wording attempting to come out of her mouth when he finally pulled back out, leaving only his tip inside. He pushed back in again steadily to gain a sluggish, yet deep rhythm.

“Yeah I totally should’ve gone in with a condom. Made this a whole lot easier, fuck.”

“A-ahhh- fucking, MIGUELLLL.”

“I know, I know princess, you gotta adjust first. I promise, you’re doing excellent so far.”

Almost instantly you came all over his base once more mid stroke, making wet squelching noises sound out around the dark room. He laughed against your chest as he watched you come undone, and he barely even moved around in you. A solid white ring of your cum materialized around the bottom of his length.

“Díos mio muñeca, I barely got started.”

Now you are embarrassed at how fast you came for him. He hit this certain spot inside you that made your stomach burn and created this euphoric sensation ricocheting all over and giving you goosebumps. You look away flustered as ever, right before a hand firmly corrects your vision back to his own. That gorgeous face of his is now serious and demanding.

“Eyes on me querida.”

He would bring his hand to hold under the women’s knees where they were originally, and resumed his drawn out movements until you adjusted accordingly.

“Ohhhh~ yes!”

You felt your stomach spasm, your body jerking in response to the friction of Miguel’s fucking huge dick dragging and pushing against your virgin walls. It hurt in a way, but it felt amazing due to his movements angling perfectly on your g-spot.

He didn’t go faster, but rather harder. Lifting his lower half up and back down in you repeatedly. He hummed in mock response to all the little nothings that spilled from your pretty lips. With every plunge inside he would hum, letting you know how good you are for allowing him to work his magic. You squirted so much with each and every thrust, that you’ve soaked a good part of his sheets, but also his lower half. Your juices dripping and falling down his dick to his thighs, you couldn’t help but to sob at how he had you underneath him. Your quads, your abdominals, and hips all burned and were already pretty fucked out, him stretching you all kind of ways could put you to knock you out at any moment.

“Miguel! Make me take that fucking dick, please!”

Oh he loved that. Too much. But she begged appropriately, and he was willing to please her with everything he could possibly give.

Miguel lifted her up off of the bed abruptly, only to interlock his arms underneath her knees and told her to hold onto his neck tightly. Using his strength, he pulled all the way out and slammed back into her sore pussy.

“Said you wanted me to make you take this shit huh? Well here you go mami.”

His pace was extreme, using only his arms to aid him in pushing in and pulling out. And every single time, he hits that perfect spot that’ll finish you in not too long from now. The loud slapping of bodies slamming into each, slight sticky noises you could hear from the layer of sweat that would build up and try to keep you two together. Those wanton sounds of deep coital sex were music to Miguel’s sensitive ears. He stood tall in that pussy trying to fuck out another beautiful orgasm from you, make you scream his name for real this time so that anyone living close by could know who she belongs to.

Stray strands of hair started to stick to his forehead, focusing on fucking her so intensely gaining a bit more speed in his thrusts. Realistically, all you can do in that situation is take it ‘till it reaches deep inside your guts. Digging your nails into his back so fiercely that you broke real skin, causing his blood to trickle at the fresh wounds. He groaned out loud, letting a good string of spit hang from his reddened lips, “Fuck! Cum for me mi vida!”

“Mhmmmm, yes, ‘m gonna-“

Throwing your head back so far you caused yourself whiplash, but you came so hard you cried even more. Tightening your gummy walls around his pulsating, hot, dick he moaned into the sex-filled atmosphere of his master bedroom. He had to carry you back to bed, placing your upper half on the dark blankets face down, and wrapping his strong arms around you tightly. His thrusts never faltered, even with you bent in half off of his bed, crying and screaming. Your voice had long since reduced itself down to a shrill, dry wail, eyes seemed like they were permanently lolled to the back of your head.

Your overstimulated clit gained a friction against the edge of the bed, you hated it now since it hurts instead of any pleasure coming out of it. Miguel returned a hand around the length of your neck, changing positions slightly by now standing all the way up, hitting it from the back. His pelvis continuously rammed back into your ass causing it to become sensitive and sting to the touch, now at this point he was close himself compressing his hand around her throat even more than earlier. She pulled her plush, bottom lips between her two rows of teeth and bit down hard enough to make it bleed. Watching his dazed, yet victorious expression as she continued to get her pussy jackhammered against the firm mattress.

You hiccuped violently, allowing another stream of tears to leak out your tear ducts in pure sexual gratification. His name spilled loosely and incoherently from your now gravelly voice, you brought your hand up to the mattress and repeatedly tried to get that you’re overwhelmed by tapping it vigorously.

“No can do, baby, I’m too close to let you tap out now.”

Fuck.

Miguel let go of her neck before replacing it with his face, kissing and licking over all of his marks from his doing.

“Cariño, you on the pill?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Taking that as a no.”

Miguel’s hips started to waver, losing his rhythm and the both of their moans synchronized, as both were drawing to their finishes. You came first after a couple of his solid thrusts, letting an indistinguishable noise between a croak and a voice crack.

“Ahhh~ daddy, cum in me! Give it to me!”

Even if she did offer for him not to pull out, he still wanted to be responsible as it’s her first time ever doing this. He didn’t want to add on to any problems she already had going on in her life with an unplanned child. Officially in about five more sloppy thrusts, his seed began to conjure up the inside of his cock before he came.

“Hey, c’mere and open your mouth.” Miguel simply stated, and as she did as she was told, she kind of hissed trying to move over to open up her mouth to his dick. He pumped quickly at its shaft, running his thumb over the slick, round tip to trigger white strings of hot, solid white cum to land in both her mouth and face. Her tongue now covered in his nut, eyelashes that fluttered innocently, now has cum falling off of them in such a vulgar manner.

Damn, it felt like such a privilege to be able to rid away with your innocence.

[snickerduu]

Hi! How long did it take for you to become a web developer? Did you study by yourself or in uni?

Rn trying front end, but it seems that it will take years before my inattentive ass will actually be ready for the market

i finished my bachelor's degree in computer science earlier this year !! :)

but i personally don't think it's necessary when it comes to web development! i think in this scenario a portfolio would be more important. my uni studies were more theoretical (so i could potentially go into a research career but i dont really want to HAHA) over application, so i learned web dev through an internship! my supervisors + the internet helped me out 🐛

it took me around a month to settle in properly, but i still learn new things every day definitely hehe

++ you can build your portfolio with small web apps!! try starting w/small projects like your portfolio site, a task list, or a GPA calculator ^_^ more ideas will eventually come! if you're not sure what to do, you can also try recreating popular sites for practice to build knowledge 🧠

[artzychic27]

So, with the new special coming up with Shadybug and Claw Noir, I’ve gotta ask, what are Scarlet Beetle, Ikati Black, Monarch, and Prince Paon’s alternate selves like?

Blood Beetle

Cold, calculated, greedy, and just a little bit flirty with his “Kitten.”

He works out so he’s stronger than his opponents and can easily snap them like twigs

This guy does NOT care about the lives of innocents, as long as he’s got the cash and jewels he stole, then he’s fine

Will not hesitate to put people in danger if it means getting his way, and makes people BEG him on their knees to use his Miracle Cure…

… Only to not use it

And quick thing to remember: Unless you have a death wish, never try to flirt with Ikati Bleak

When he’s not Blood Beetle, Kim is tormenting people at DuPont Dormitory For Wayward Teens for cash and breaking every PDA rule with Max

He was sent to DuPont for attacking just about anyone who looked at him funny

“Kitten~ Steal that gem for me, would you, baby?”

“Ugh! It’s not my fault this light weight can’t take a punch!”

“Come on… Beg me, and maybe I’ll fix your shit city.”

Ikati Bleak

Ikati Bleak is extremely smart and knows how to get in your head. Never trust him

He’s the brains behind every robbery committed by himself and his “Blood Bug.”

He can easily hack into the government and cause all sorts of mass destruction with the push of a button if civilians step out of line

Like Blood Beetle, he doesn’t care about the lives of other people, seeing them as only stepping stones in their path towards total domination

Whatever Blood Beetle desires, he is more than happy to do whatever it takes to make him happy

Enjoys using his cataclysm on famous landmarks and important artifacts

As Max, he’s deceitful, gets a thrill out of using his intellect against others, and uses his tech skills to torment the student body

Max was sent to DuPont for hacking into the grade books and ruining everyone’s GPAs just for the hell of it

“Whatever my Blood Bug wants, he gets.”

“Ruining lives is just no fun when they don’t cry.”

“One little button. That’s all it takes to see your city turn to dust.”

Emperor

One word… Insane

Emperor has no goal other than to cause mass chaos and make all who stand before him kneel at his feet

He turns people into Akumas against their will and uses psychological and/or emotional torture to make them comply

He forces them to steal, cause property damage, and attack a few people he doesn’t like

He only has a soft spot for Prince Pain and will drop everything to just kiss his hand

As Nathaniel, he’s just as unhinged as Emperor. People would say he has a Napoleon Complex, but the last person to say that mysteriously fell down the stairs

Note: Nathaniel hates it when people even imply that he’s inferior

Those at his last school were relieved when the School Tyrant finally left

“Princey, allow me torment this undesirable for you, darling.”

“Aw~ Why so serious? And here I thought we were having so much fun.”

“Oh, I have ways of making you comply, dear.”

Prince Pain

He’s every bit of crazy as Emperor, but braver. He’s jumped off the top of the Eiffel Tower and landed on the back of a winged Senticreature

This guy only has a soft spot for Emperor and his babies

He can’t bear to part with them, so he lets them run around Paris, destroying everything in sight on a weekly basis

He’d never send an Amok after a civilian, becuase then they can turn his Senticreature against him!

He’s got the personality of Evil!Spinel with a bit of Harley Quinn mixed in there, always clapping and laughing when someone gets hurt

He will follow Emperor to the ends of the earth for no reason other than to cause chaos with him

Marc was sent to DuPont because there was no mental facility that would take him

“Hear that, babies? Other daddy is proud of you, my little weapons of mass destruction!”

“Voices in my head say I’m perfectly normal like any other person.”

“I don’t like the words your saying… Do you need your tongue removed?”

[mysimsloveaffair]

We remain that way until Maia announces she’s tired and ready for bed. She crawls up under the sheets leaving me to my thoughts. My grades have come in from my two college courses. I currently have an A+ GPA. But with a baby coming, I’ll have to delay enrolling in another term. I also mentally calculate how much money I’m currently earning from SimTube and what we get from the money tree, and I come to one conclusion - if I want to make sure that our child has everything, I need to make a lot more money.

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Hi Reid! I have a question about the american college/uni system that I've been wondering about for a long time and you seem knowledgeable and friendly enough to maybe help: How big/long are your courses? Like, how many do you take every term? Is every course the same size? How many subjects do you generally study at the same time?

For context, I'm from Sweden and our course sizes are based on a point system, where 30 points is supposed to represent 20 weeks (a term) of full time studying (40 hours a week). It's common to take 30 point courses (usually divided into subcourses, say 4×7,5 points, two for the first half and two for the second half of a term (or 6×5 with three at a time)), but you can also pick smaller courses (usually 7,5 or 15 points taken at 50%) until you get 30 points.

I think my real question is how this translates. If people speak about a, say, linguistics 101 course, is that a 30 point or 7,5 point course? And do all your courses stretch over an entire term? Please help, I just want to know how to interpret people talking about their courseload

Hi there, sorry it's taken me a while to get to this—I've been very busy prepping for the class I'm teaching.

Every university here is different, and credits (how many points you get per class, and how many total points you need to graduate) also vary based on whether your school does quarters, trimesters, or semesters. My only experience has been with semesters, so that's what I'll focus on here.

Here, most classes are either 3 or 4 credits. A usual 3 credit class might meet twice a week for 1:15 minutes each time. A class might be four credits if it's a higher level seminar or discussion based class with a higher number of more difficult readings.

Classes that have both a lab and lecture component can be more (around 6, I think? I never took one), and then there are less difficult classes that usually only run for half the semester that might be 2 credits. For example, I took a half-semester costume design class my freshman year. Below is the official jargon that talks about how credits are determined.

The current nationally recognized standard, the Federal Credit Hour Standard, defines a three-credit course as three fifty-minute classes per week over a fifteen-week semester (including final exam week), or the equivalent (for courses using a non-traditional format such as blended or online learning). This standard assumes that each credit hour generates two hours of assigned work for every hour of in-class contact. Thus, the guiding rule is 45 hours of work per semester for each unit of credit. For laboratory courses or their equivalent, one credit hour is assigned for three hours of laboratory, workshop, studio, fieldwork, independent study, etc.

You can also (sometimes) take a class pass/fail, although usually that reduces the number of credits it is worth. Finally, you can audit a class, which means that you get access to the syllabus, do the readings, and show up, but you don't have to do any of the assignments. Audited classes are worth no credits, but they do show up on your transcript.

Our undergraduate classes are often numbered 100-400, with 100 level classes being introductory, and 400 level classes being highly specialized with prerequisite requirements. Graduate level classes are 500 or higher.

Credits are different than the grades you get. Grades are on a 4 point scale, where 4.0 would be 100%, with 70% being a 2.0 and the lowest passing grade. I'm attaching a picture of the grade breakdown from my own syllabus to show you how my current institution assigns grades to percentage points.

Most colleges/institution require you to earn a C in order to pass a class. If you get that C, you get the full amount of credits for the course, same as anyone who got an A. However, your Grade Point Average (GPA), which is calculated by taking the average of every grade you've gotten, will be lower than someone who got all As.

At most institutions, you have to take 12 credits a semester (so 4 classes for 3 credits each) in order to qualify as a full time student, which comes with certain privileges. Usually you can take up to 18 credits, although this may cost more if the school doesn't have a flat rate tuition.

Finally, with a grading system like this one, undergraduate students are expected to earn a total of 120 credits to complete their bachelor's degree.

As for course sizes, they can range from 200+ person lectures at the really big universities, to 5-12 person seminar/discussions for the higher level classes. Lab classes or more hands on options will be in the 20-30 person range. But it highly depends.

I know that's confusing. Hopefully that helps? -Reid