#math is puzzles. puzzles can be fun

[i-havenothingelsetopost]

genuine question, do you like maths?? i have a vague feeling i saw your post of tags or something that said something about it but i cannot figure out if it was in fact you or if it was even positive ahahah

Yeah that was me! I don't go looking for math problems, but when I happen to do them, I tend to enjoy it. Wasn't always this way — elementary school math was about speed and memorization and I hated that — but I had a really good teacher in upper secondary school, and it became about creative problem solving. It feels the same as writing a poem in meter or managing to untangle a really bad knot in a ball of yarn.

[shock]

today one of my caseload students was meeting with the social worker so i went and took my break in my favorite room (the in-school suspension room, run by one of my favorite colleagues who has a language arts and restorative practices background with 20+ years of experience) and there was a kid who I've NEVER seen in there with an unusual situation, and apparently all day she and this student couldn't figure out the math work she was supposed to do for one of her classes...

So I said okay, let's look up this type of work, I taught myself how to do it, then I tried to figure out a way to show her the steps, and we did this problem together:

and then with each problem I started having her do more and more of the steps, and by the time we got to the 5th one she was going up to the board and doing them herself, and I was getting so excited, and when I sat back down my colleague came up to me jumping up and down and stage whispering "you are a TEACHER!!" and she's one of the first people at the start of my educational career who told me that I had "it" three years ago and it really just made my day today.

I can't even begin to describe the special, unique sense of deep pride I feel when I get to model learning for a student and see it click for us both in real time to the point that they can replicate it without my help. Not knowing the answer isn't shameful, it's a part of the process, and I just love it more than anything else. 😭😭

[puppppppppy]

i am playing professor layton and the curious village on my ds. very fun!!!

I don't know if i'm very far in because most of the time spent in that game was me being confused and bad at puzzles. it's fun though.

!!! im glad to hear youre enjoying it!! its one of my fav titles and honestly such an underrated series, id love it if more ppl gave it a try!

the puzzles can be difficult but very rewarding!! i used to dread them as a kid but now i find them nice and challenging. the math ones are still hard, but if u speak to Flick at the cafe he'll give you chess puzzles which i think were my favorite ^_^

[tooies]

very excited to learn how to do integrals i've been wondering for the longest time how the hell those even work so it will be cool figuring out how to do them

[saltinesinsoup]

aughh man its like. i want to watch something but nothing on youtube is good and everything being recommended to me feels like mindless slop but also i dont feel like there's any good shows out right now that i could watch and i also dont really want to rewatch anything and at its core i think im bored and a little bit creatively unfulfilled

[dreamingmappist]

Just had this conversation with my coworker yesterday. I liked algebra and word problems best because it’s like puzzle-solving. I did well in most of them but I don’t remember much of calculus or trigonometry, since high school was a million years ago and I only took one math class in university and it was very basic.

Anyway I kind of want to get back into it. I don’t know much about non-Euclidean math or anything too theoretical but I might be able to appreciate that part now more than as a teen.

Also this morning I was gonna do a collage and got distracted by a futoshiki puzzle in the magazine. Finally solved it and now I wanna try looking for more.

maths enjoyers and bug enjoyers and horror movie enjoyers and so forth all need to come together and unite against the common enemy of people telling you how much they hate something as soon as you mention you like it

[paperbag1999]

genuinely the most fun i have had learning in a while was in my psychometrics class in the winter. i loved that class the whole time but i was so enthralled by the two weeks where our prof would just show up and tell us how he developed the honesty-humility factor in personality testing. and i think this upcoming year will be very nice as i have honours seminar and topic classes and then my other classes are taught by the same prof, one is indigenous psych and the other is qualitative methods and from what i've heard indigenous psych is very discussion heavy. so i think this year will be nice! but it is just so fucking hard finishing up these classes with the same memorize -> test structure like i am BEYOND THIS.

[writers-potion]

How to foreshadow? Like a big thing is going to be revelation after few chapters so how can I drop subtle hints about it? Lots of love 💗

Foreshadowing Creatively

If you are trying to build up towards the 'big moment' throughout a few prior chapters,

Let's assume that we want to reveal the the fact that Character A's husband is cheating on her. The big moment here would be when she witnesses them kissing in the parking lot.

To drop subtle hints about it, we could:

Have the husband doing things that are just slightly out of the ordinary, but not enough to attract serious suspicion: taking call outside the bedroom, being more tired after work than usual

Insert direct evidence that Character A could've picked up on, but she doesn't because she thinks it's ridiculous to start having doubts.

Use symbolic motifs. The husband informs her that he lost is wedding ring - a complete accident. But this indicates a 'break' of their marriage vows.

Similarly, you can use color/animal/location that subtly hints at secrecy, infidelity and dishonesty.

It may even be enough to have seemingly unrelated bad things happen to her. Maybe she cuts her finger while prepping dinner for her husband, or suddenly starts feeling that their bed is uncomforatble to sleep in. There's no logical link between these details and the eventual realization, but the mood gets established.

Think about the big moment from two different points of view: someone who knows about it all along, and someone who doesn't. How would it look from an outsider's POV?

I find it helpful to think about howI tried to justify the bad events that has happened to me.

For example, I messed up on a math test. The logical reason for this was that I didn't study enough. But my brain would: - blame it on the weather: it was raining! And I hate rain! - the supervising teacher, Mrs. G, was my least favorite and that had affected my mood. - I always eat an even number of chocolate before tests, but I could only eat 3 that morning because that's all that I had left. - the bus came late

Drive your character's mood slowly towards the revelation. If it's an emotional one, I'd say the atmospheric/symbolic elements would be more important; if it's puzzle pieces finally clicking in place, you could provide a brief overview of how past events are finally put together by your main character at the end.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

Concept: In The Burning Maze, I think it would have been cool if one of the crossword puzzles in the labyrinth had been a mathematical equation.

Specifically, a mathematical equation on mathematical logic, such as negations.

Why? Because Apollo is the god of mathematics and I think it would be funny if Grover and Meg were standing there, staring with horror at:

~(~(p^q))

"What is this nonsense?" Asks Meg, a literal sixth grader who has never before encountered college-level math.

"I...I don't know!" Responds Grover, anxiously wringing his hands. He also has never come across something like this before. "I never went to high school!"

"Is it code for something?"

"The little carrot there looks kinda like a Greek Delta- is Daedalus related somehow?"

"A carrot-what?"

"The carrot!" Grover points at the symbol between the 'p' and 'q'. "It looks like the Delta symbol!"

"Oooh. Okay."

The sentence below the odd thing reads;

Solve my riddle,

Or play second fiddle,

You can find me in education,

For I am the ________!

"...What does that mean?" Grover whimpers.

Meg looks stumped.

"...negation," Apollo's staring at the strange equation. "'Solve my riddle, or play second fiddle. You can find me in education, for I am the negation!'. That's the missing word in the rhyme."

They stare at him. "How do you know that?" Grover bewilderedly asks. "It makes no sense!"

"Math logic," Apollo simply says. "This particular one is...about first, second-year level in college, I'd say."

Grover closes his eyes, muttering; "No wonder I couldn't solve it." as Meg stares first at the equation, then at Apollo.

"What even is a negation?"

"That," Apollo points to the squiggly lines. "It cancels the truth values out, giving you the opposite of what's inside the parathesis."

"...What?"

Apollo huffs. "The 'p' and 'q' both represent something, like two parts of a sentence. The carrot can be upside-down or right-side-up, representing 'or' or 'and' in that sentence."

"Which way is up when?" Grover looked to be on the verge of tears as the realization math did not, in fact, end with numbers or numbers and letters.

"Uh..." Apollo made a 'V' with his hands. "If it's like this, it's 'or'. If it's like this," he made a tiny pyramid with his hands. "It's 'and'. Imagine a line through the center, like an 'A'. That's 'and'."

Grover rubbed at his eyes. "Too much," he whimpered. "Too much."

Apollo gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. "In this case," he said. "It's saying 'and'. The negation, well, negates their values, so it becomes-" he pats his pants and looks in his pockets. "Anyone have a pen and paper...?"

Blank looks met his. "Okay, then...then just imagine a squiggly line in front of the 'p' and 'q'. That's what the first negation does. Then the second one negates that negation, taking the squiggly lines away."

Breathing in, he finished with; "So our mathematical answer would be, 'p and q', written with the carrot right-side-up- like the 'A'."

The tunnel was silent.

Then it was broken. "How do you know all that?" Meg demanded, looking extremely confused. "That makes no sense. I thought there were numbers."

"There are," Apollo patiently explained. "But this is a logic problem, and they don't do numbers."

"Never before have I been grateful to not to have to go to college," Grover rubbed at his temples. "Algebra was bad enough. Now this?"

"Hey!" Apollo looked slightly offended. "It's all quite fun, really, when you figure it out! Besides, we didn't even have to solve it!"

"Then why did you?" Meg asked.

Apollo stared at her. "Because you asked me too-!"

"Nope." She blew a raspberry. "None of us did."

He closed his eyes, as if praying for mercy.

"Anyway," Apollo gave both of them the stink-eye. "Math and music were quite intertwined back in the day, so the Muses and I are quite adept at it- Thalia's the geometry queen, and whatever you do, do not say 'Bet you can't solve this in a minute' to Urania. She will make you look stupid."

"Bet that's not hard."

"Oh, shut up."

insert cackle from Meg

"ANYWAY," Apollo gives her the stink-eye. "Ancient Greece was a breeding ground for mathematical minds- Pythagoras, for one, who was my son to boot! Even Hestia enjoys looking over Hephaestus's construction equations in her spare time."

The other two stared at him, as if shocked the gods would find math, of all things, fun.

Apollo awkwardly glanced away from them. He didn't know what their reactions would be if he told them of the many contributions he has made to the world of mathematics. For some reason, silly mortals didn't seem to appreciate the hard work put into them!

Sighing, he said; "Uh, Labyrinth, the answer is 'negation'. We got side-tracked there for a bit."

One hallway in front of them glowed with the answer. Without another word, they quickly speed-walked down the passage-way.

[quantomeno]

Having studied high school maths, this was easy except the first time I tried to solve it I missed the "the bowl still has 2 cups left" bit and that messed up my answer.

When I say it's easy I mean it in the way 50% of Layton maths puzzles are just weirdly worded linear algebra problems and I got good at those in high school. I'm more noting that Layton maths puzzles are simple as a rule because there's not much else you can do. If you know how to turn words into equations, there's not much that can trip you up after that except miscalculations. (The other 50% of maths puzzles are trick questions that require no real math in case you wondered)

this is a perfectly suitable Layton puzzle. I'd give it 30 picarats because of the two unused bowls tripped me up. I would just advise rewording the line "the bowl still has 2 cups left" to "the pot still has two bowlfuls left".

My working out is below if you're interested:

50 = 2 + a + c/2 [i.e. the number of total bowls (50) must be equal to the number of uneaten bowls (2) plus the number of adults (a) plus half the number of children (c) since each child only eats half a bowl]

Also,

c = 4a [for each child there are four adults: if a=1, c=4x1=4, if a=2, c=4x2=8 etc etc ad infinitum]

Now, if we take the first equation and replace c with 4a:

50 = 2 + a + (4a)/2

⇒ 50 = 2 + a + 2a

⇒ 50 = 2 + 3a

⇒ 48 = 3a

⇒ a = 16 [that means 16 adults]

Now, we substitute a with 16 in the c = 4a equation:

c = 4x16

⇒ c = 64 [and thus 64 children]

Since the question wants total number of people, that's just

a + c = 16 + 64 = 80

So 80 people.

Mkay I adjusted the conditions of the puzzle in my fic so here goes.

A man and his wife bring soup to a family reunion. He serves himself a bowl, then passes the pot. His wife serves herself and passes it along, so long and so forth. Every adult takes a bowl, and every child takes one half of a bowl. The pot, when full, can hold 50 bowls of soup.

And by the end of it, the bowl still has 2 cups left. If there are 4 children to every adult, how many total people are there in the family?

The answer is meant to be 80. 48 total bowls / 3 bowls per 5 people (1/2 bowl per child*4 children + 1 adult) is 16 groups of 3 bowls (and 16 groups of 5 people).

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 

She’s never been more aroused in her life. 

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 

This is torture for him. 

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

HOPE U LOVED IT!!!! :-) CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR OTHER SNEAKIES AND BLURBS

[oof-i-did-it-agaaiiin]

In the year of the barbie movie I will not fucking tolerate people on tiktok continuing to make girl math jokes. Girl math is when I joyfully did algebra for fun playing it like it was solitaire throughout early high school. Girl math is the ease with which I can figure out the required materials and measurements for a scaled up version of my artistic endeavors. Girl math is tricking my friends into doing equations with me by showing them my favorite puzzle app game that disguises the exponents as cute little creatures, and girl math is how quickly they get the hang of it when they don’t feel like their intelligence is being tested and they don’t have preconceived notions about how good they are at this kind of conceptualization. Girl math is the want to learn why that rule works that way and the joy when all the moving parts of the world click together and you feel more connected to the fabric of the universe around you. Girl math is when I am fucking intelligent. Because I am. I know this and it cannot be revoked. And no one should allow it to be revoked from themselves either. Much less by themselves.

[nylaboon]

Fell in Love With a Girl — Cooper Day

"Fell in love with a girl / I fell in love once and almost completely / She's in love with the world / But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading"

— in which Cooper comes clean to you about his troubles with Emma.

cooper day x gn!reader

tags: swearing, second person pov, fluff, not proofread, kinda shitty in my opinion but i tried my best

"Cooper, what's taking so long?" You inquired, feeling more and more frustrated with the boy. He was supposed to be helping you with your missing assignments, but he got sidetracked by a notification from his laptop. He was so distracted that he spent about three minutes staring at the screen, literally frozen in place. It was annoying, and the worst thing was that it was the third time he had been distracted by it, which meant that your work was taking even longer to complete.

The only reason why you even had missing assignments was because you got sick the previous week.

Strep throat. Possibly one of the worst and best illnesses a person can get. You felt like shit most of the time, but the upside was that you wouldn't have to go to school until it cleared. You just happened to catch it from a guy in your math class; how that happened was a damn mystery. You kept your distance and moved as far away from him as possible every time he so little as parted his lips to speak, but you still caught it. As a result, you took a week off from school, which didn't seem too bad at first, but that was until Cooper gave you an update on everything that went down during the week you spent at home whining about your sore throat and chugging shitty medicine. And it was one hell of an update, for sure.

He soon shifted his focus away from the screen and quickly closed it. He covered his face and moaned as he stood up from his desk and returned to his bed to sit next to you again. "Sorry, sorry. What were we talking about?"

You close your workbook, using your pencil to bookmark the page, and place it beside you. "Numbers and shit. Who was that?"

"Who was who?" You should have known he would respond to your question with one of his own. He always did this, and it was infuriating. In his defense, though, he didn't have to tell you who he was talking to if he didn't want to, therefore he was justified. Irritating as fuck, but justified.

"Don't play dumb," you advised, rolling your eyes at his feigned confusion. "Who were you emailing just now?" Cooper shrugged and glanced around the room. "Why does it matter?"

"It must matter since you keep running back to your laptop every two minutes."

"Well, it's closed now, so you don't have to worry about it. Lucky you." Cooper was not an open person, and you knew it. Everyone knew it. That being said, his dismissive behavior wasn't unusual. He always bottled up his emotions since he didn't know how to express them without assuming he sounded stupid. Unfortunately for him, you were nosy and constantly pestered him when he didn't tell you something, so he usually caved.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

He gave you a puzzled, defensive expression. "What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?"

"You're not denying it." Your logic garnered you a sneer from him, but he chose to simply change the subject to avoid further conflict.

"The more you argue with me over this, the more time you're wasting." He wasn't necessarily wrong about that, either. Instead of pressuring him to talk about it, you picked up your workbook and got back to work. Around twenty minutes later, you left to go to the bathroom, but when you finished and headed back to Cooper's room, he was sitting at his desk. Again. Instead of announcing your presence, you silently closed his bedroom door and crept up behind him, skimming through his laptop screen. He was reading an email from a girl who said she "missed him" and had been "thinking about him all day". It was a tough read, but it offered a great opportunity to make fun of him.

"Who's Emma?" You finally spoke up with a sly grin. Cooper jumped and shut his laptop in less than a second. He gave you an annoyed glare before sweeping his curls out of his face and looking away. He stood up from his chair and attempted to distance himself from you out of embarrassment.

"A friend," he mumbled.

"That didn't sound like a friend," you retorted.

"Why are you so worried about it?" Instead of answering his question, you mocked him.

You grabbed his arm and began swinging it, annoying him even more. Truth be told, you weren't particularly pleased with what you had found, but you were trying your best to conceal your displeasure via exaggerated excitement techniques. You had a mini-crush on him for a while (at least that's what you called it to persuade yourself that you didn't want him and were just being irrational for a year straight), and it was relatively upsetting to learn that he was talking to some girl he never mentioned to you. "Aw, Cooper has a girlfriend!"

He let you swing his arm, although he didn't seem thrilled about it. "She's not my girlfriend." You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay, sure," you replied, not believing him in the slightest. "And I'm not failing algebra."

"No, seriously," he affirmed. "She's not. We just started talking, like, a week ago."

"And how did that happen?"

It took him a while to gather enough courage to answer that question. "...she called me sexy."

"...seriously? Just- just straight up?" Cooper nodded. You cringed a bit. "Is she in any of your classes?" You asked. Little did you know, you wouldn't be prepared for his response. "...she's a junior."

"She's a what?!"

"Hear me out—"

"No!" That was odd. Wasn't it odd? How often did a freshman and a junior get together? Not very. You couldn't even begin to articulate your concern. Where do you even start? There was a lot to unpack in those three words. "Do you not see the issue with that?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, but she's hot, and I'm me. M'not really a chick magnet, so I kinda have to take what I can get."

"Take what you can get?" You repeated in astonishment. You had more to say, but he interrupted you before you had time to finish. "Plus, we already made out a lot, so I kinda dug myself into a hole." As if it couldn't get any worse...

Your eyes widened. The situation was almost unfathomable, and you could feel yourself about to explode out of anger. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm sixteen; what's the issue?" He asked in defense. You would've laughed at that lie if you weren't pissed off.

"You're fifteen, Cooper. Stop telling people that." For some unexplained reason, he kept lying about being a year older than he was. He'd been doing it since he was twelve, and it was actually pretty cute. And stupid.

"Well, I'm almost sixteen."

"Your birthday was two months ago."

"Still. That's basically a young adult."

"Not even!" He shook his head and sighed. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"I don't know," you replied. "Why are you dating a junior?" Cooper flung his head back, annoyed, before sitting on the edge of his bed. "We aren't dating, okay? And even if she was a freshman, I still wouldn't date her." That claim perplexed you. You stood in front of him, looking down at him with curiosity. "Why not?" You questioned.

He placed his elbow on his knee and let his chin rest in the palm of his hands. "Because she's not into me."

"But you just said she called you—"

"I know," he interjected. "You don't get it, though. She thinks I'm an idiot." He looked up at you for a minute, only to be met with your blank stare. "She's just using me to write shit for her."

"So, you don't like her; you just like being used?" You asked. He sneered at your cluelessness.

"I don't like being used. I just like the attention."

You sat down beside him, hands in your lap. You mumbled a soft "damn" and peered at the floor alongside him. "That fuckin' sucks."

"You don't say?" He replied sarcastically, leading you to nudge his shoulder. He sighed hopelessly and continued his rant. "I don't think I'm ever getting in a relationship at this point."

"Don't say that," you pleaded. "You never know."

"I do know, though," he argued. "I'm weird. I don't fit anyone's standards. Not that I even care for relationships, but—"

"You fit mine."

Your honesty seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. He paused for a few seconds before proceeding with the conversation. "That's not what I meant, y/n. You're just a friend."

"That's not what I meant, either." He gazed at you, his eyes conveying his uncertainty. "I didn't mean it in a friendly way."

Cooper stared at you, completely stumped. You grumbled and rolled your eyes before clarifying yourself for him. For someone so smart, he could be so naive. "You idiot—I like you. That's what I meant."

Despite your clear confession, you were anything but calm. You wanted to bash your head through his window because you had just made the entire conversation awkward. Awkward because he was staring at you, visibly uncomfortable. Or maybe he was just stunned. You had hoped he was just stunned. Regardless, the room was quiet, which was enough to drive you insane on the inside.

"...dude, why?" He eventually asked.

"Why what?"

"Why me?"

"Why not?" You shrugged with sass but kept your attention away from him. You would prefer to not see your best friend become uncomfortable in your presence. Being in his presence at that moment was enough to make you want to shoot yourself in the head. "You really do have shitty taste in guys," he taunted, hoping to lighten the mood for you. You let out a bitter scoff. "But on a serious note, I didn't think you thought of me like that..."

"You learn something new every day." He cracked a brief chuckle before going back to his serious demeanor. You, however, were not laughing. "I'd rather you over Emma, y'know."

"Is that really the compliment you think it is?" You asked softly.

"Depends on how you take it," he replied. "But I did like her at first, just so you know. Before I even knew what she was up to. So do you know what that means?" It meant that even if he liked Emma, he still would have preferred you. Suddenly, you didn't want a bullet in your skull anymore. "Oh," you muttered while trying your best to not smile too hard. "Cool, cool. That's, like, rad."

"That's it?" He complained. "Just 'rad'?"

"Obviously not," you denied. "I just don't know how to react appropriately."

"How would you react if you were alone?" He asked, to which you immediately responded.

"I'd scream."

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "I guess that's fair. But do you know what I want to do?" You tilted your head to the side, urging him to continue. But he said nothing. Without wasting another second, he leaned into your proximity and connected your lips, as if he was testing the waters before diving in fully. The kiss was neither short nor too long. You eventually reciprocated, allowing your hands to drift to his face and grasp onto him. You didn't want him to pull away, but he did eventually. He took a breath and smiled nervously while backing away from you. Meanwhile, you were still trying to process his actions.

"…why'd you pull away?" You spoke up, giving him a fake look of disapproval. "I wasn't supposed to?"

"Did I say you could?" Cooper shook his head. "Exactly. So get back over here and kiss me before I throw a fit."

"As you wish."

written by @nylaboon

[avatar-anna]

Classic Fall Fun

my mind is empty. i bought a halloween squishmallow and decorative pillows for fall. so i wrote a blurb about it. enjoy!

"Baby...What...?"

"I can explain!" you blurted, rushing over to your fiance.

"I hope you can," Harry murmured as he picked up a throw pillow from the couch. "I can hardly see the sofa under all these."

"There was a sale," you began. "I was only going to the craft store for puzzle glue because I finished my puzzle this morning and I wanted to hang it up, but then I saw the Fall and Halloween section and..."

"And you turned our living room into Halloweentown," Harry said.

"You remembered!" you said, trying to shift the subject off all the Fall decor that now lived in your home.

You really didn't mean to buy all the decorations—the throw pillows, the blanket with pumpkins and candy corns and warm toned leaves on it, the welcome mat that said, Hocus Pocus!, and all the little decorations that were perfectly arranged on the kitchen counter. You'd been proud of how perfect your home looked, how everything tied together so nicely. Now that Harry was here, though, you worried you'd overdone it. Or worse, he'd make you take it all back.

"Course I remember," Harry said. "You've only made me watch it every year since we've been together."

"I—I know it's a lot," you said, trying to hide a stuffed vampire holding a little pumpkin spiced latte behind you and out of his eyesight. "But you know I love decorating, I mean I did the whole house when we moved in—very tastefully, I might add—and I love the holidays an—and themes, and—You're laughing at me."

Harry shook his head, chuckling softly. He took your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. That was definitely not the reaction you were expecting. Some light teasing? Sure. Insisting you take at least some of it back? Probably. But you mentally crossed your fingers that you could keep it all. Right down to the mummy mugs and ghost candle holders.

"I've been waiting for this day, if I'm honest. I'm surprised it didn't come sooner. Starbucks changed their menu two weeks ago."

Blushing, you held Harry's hand as it rested on your cheek. "Do you hate it? If you hate it, I can scale it back."

"I love it," he said. "And I love you."

He led you to the couch where he took the same stuffed vampire you tried to hide and held it against his stomach. You took the blanket that rested on top of the couch and draped it over yourself and Harry, snuggling up close to his side. You kissed his cheek a couple times, stomach flipping when you felt his grin beneath your lips.

"No Halloween movies yet, because it's not October, but..."

"Way ahead of you," Harry said, reaching for the remote and firing up Netflix on the TV.

"I knew you liked the show as much as I do," you said with a grin.

"You realize it's actually quite hot out, right?" he said, but pulled you closer anyway as he made himself more comfortable.

You shushed him as the theme song played. You'd thought of that already, and the air conditioning was already pumping through the vents to make it the perfect temperature for hiding under the fluffy blanket. And drink warm drinks. And cuddle in bed with the twinkly lights you put up earlier while listening to music.

"I know it's silly. I know it's...a little over the top, but—"

"Hey, I think it's cute how excited you get over the holidays," he said. "And, just because I know how much you love Autumn, so I got you something."

"Autumn," you repeated, imitating his accent. "What did you get?"

"An appropriately themed seasonal puzzle that we can complete together."

Your eyes lit up immediately. "You bought us a puzzle?"

Harry kissed you repeatedly, his fingers holding your chin lovingly. "I happen to like this season too, you know. Not as much as you, but I do. And puzzles. And you. Easy math."

You sighed and rested against his chest, kissing him over the soft material of his shirt a few times. Harry said it was fine, but you could admit that your love for this particular season was a little intense. But you loved putting a room together, making it feel warm and inviting and festive. And each item you put in your cart was part of a vision you had, and once you had said vision, you had to make it come to life. It was how you ended up putting all the rooms together in the house when you and Harry moved in. He had input of course, but he knew you had a knack for decorating and trusted your judgement.

And you couldn't help but think of the future too. Yours and Harry's. You wanted to do this for your kids, to raise them in a home that was cheery and fun. It was something neither you nor Harry had yourselves growing up, so you wanted something new. New traditions that you could start together.

You couldn't wait to share a lifetime of feeling cozy and cuddling festive pillows with Harry. You couldn't wait to watch movies and do puzzles and make pumpkin flavored baked goods with him for the rest of your life, or sew costumes for your kids because what they wanted couldn't be found at the party store. You wanted all of it, and you wanted it with him.

"I really do love this show, you know. I'd never heard of it, and now I can quote it," Harry mumbled. His eyes were trained on the show playing in front of him while his fingers traced patterns on your arm idly. Then, he looked down at you and smiled. "Our first real tradition, don't you think?"

Your heart squeezed with delight. You knew Harry loved you, that was never a doubt in your mind. But hearing him say that, knowing that he had lofty visions of the future too, made you hold him just a little bit tighter.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

hope you don't mind me asking, and if you do please disregard - I've just read some of your synesthesia posts, and the ones about numbers and how they interact is super interesting. do punctuation marks or symbols have colours? is it different if they're part of text, or if they're part of an equation?

They do have colours! Or at least, colour brackets.

So, a question mark by itself is blue. An exclamation mark by itself is, somehow, both red and yellow at the same time, but not orange. Mostly yellow. When put with words, they become cool and warm respectively instead.

Although with that said, a question mark can be kind of green, but I can't think of a purple example. Hmm. Also, I've just spotted that both a question mark and the number 2 is blue, and they're similar shapes. 2 is a much stronger shade though. More saturated. Oh, and 1 is yellow, so again, a link with an exclamation mark. Interesting!

Equations as a whole have a clinical, lab-like feel and wash to them generally, very blue white and chrome. Something cold and distant. Except when I make simultaneous equations for my husband to solve, because he likes maths. Then they're red and green and like a pile of Christmas presents. I think it's actually because I'm 'on the inside' then, as it were - I understand them because I wrote them, so there's no mystery, just fun puzzles.

But, if I zero in on the components of an equation then yes, I can see the individual colours and textures. It's the same as how a word will have a colour/texture, but the letters within will have something a bit different. Like with equations, the whole word usually mostly differs in texture rather than colour - colour is influenced by the letter colours.

I hope any of that made sense

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 3: Chilly Fall Day

Eddie Munson x gf!reader

wc: ~ 0.9k

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't for Eddie in so long so forgive me if he's kind of ooc. Thanks for reading, if you liked the story reblog so more people can see it! I'll see y'all tomorrow for day 4!

You loved spending time with your boyfriend, honestly, you really couldn’t spend enough time with him in your opinion. Which means you need to take all the moments you get. Even if it means eating your lunch outside on an old picnic table while your breath clouds out in front of you. Eddie had offered you his jacket but you declined, you love Eddie with all your heart but he has no meat on his bones and you don’t want to be responsible for getting him sick especially because you’ll be the one who has to take care of him if he does.

It is quiet out here, peaceful. You don’t have to worry about Jason and his cronies. You don’t have to put up with the gossiping gaggle of cheerleaders and you definitely don’t have to breathe in the cloud of B.O. that seems to coat the whole cafeteria. It’s nice out here, fresh and relaxing. Well as relaxing as spending time with Eddie ever is.

Currently, he is ten minutes into a vivid explanation of his plan for the Hellfire Club session this week. He said he wants your input on some of the puzzles he’s going to use to trap the party and hold them in the labyrinth he had created. You’re lying with your back on the table, staring up into the sky. In the corner of your vision;  the yellows and oranges of the tall oak trees that boarded the school property dance and sway. And straight above you is the blank canvas of the sky. It looks dreary from this angle, grey and muted; a complete antithesis to the bright blues of only a month ago.

“Do you think a math question is too easy, babe? If it was just the old guys I wouldn’t be worried but that new kid Dustin is pretty smart he might be able to chew right through it.”

“I don’t know Eds how hard do you want the puzzle to be?” You ask. 

“Well, I don’t want them to get stuck forever and die ‘cause what the fun in that ya know? But I do want there to be some stakes.”

“What if you did a riddle? Like a really hard one. Maybe a Shakespeare reference? I can let you borrow some of my anthologies.” 

“Hmm, maybe. I don’t know I guess I’m just worried that the campaign is getting lame.”

“Why would it be lame?” You sit up and look at him raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. But there was this one kid who came with the new guys. I think his name was Carl or something but he keeps ditching us for basketball practice and I’m like… am I not making it fun enough?”

“Eddie, baby. You’re an amazing dungeon master. Who cares what some freshman thinks of your campaign? Especially if he’s choosing to hang out with Jason in his free time, obviously he’s got issues.” You deadpan. You will not let some snot nose thirteen year old make Eddie feel like shit. 

“God babe you always know what to say to get my brain to stop going like ninety miles a second.” Eddie pops up from his own reclined position and leans into your space to plant a big wet kiss on your cheek, equally endearing as it is kind of gross.

“I know. It’s like my superpower.” You wiggle your fingers at your boyfriend and raise an eyebrow at him. You both fall into laughter. 

“You look nice with leaves in your hair.” He changes the subject.

“I have leaves in my hair?!” Your hands shoot up to the crown of your head and search for the offending foliage. You find three and rip them out with a ferocity not exactly warranted. 

Eddie, the bastard just sits there laughing at you and doing not a damn thing to help. A thought pops into your mind. You stand up and hop down from the bench. Your boots crunching the leaves where you land. 

Eddie, still occupied with laughing his stupid butt off doesn’t pick up on your plan for revenge. You bend over and scoop into your own arms, a pile of leaves from the ground. Turning abruptly and throwing them up into the air above Eddie. They rain down on him, covering his hair and shoulders, falling into his lap and even sticking to his socks. His laugh peters off at the same time yours erupts from your gut. 

Eddie tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face when he takes in your relaxed pose and the sound of your laughter. He stands up and raises an eyebrow at you. 

When you see the mischief on his face your laugh stops and you begin to take careful steps away from him. Eddie, not waiting a second longer practically launches himself from the table and onto the ground. Seconds later he has tackled you towards the ground, flipping the two of you at the last second so you land on his chest. 

One, or two seconds go by before you both start laughing once more, much calmer this time. You stare into each other's eyes and help to pick the leaves out of each other's hair. 

Yeah… spending time with Eddie really is your favorite thing.