#also im still not sure which one i want to vote for
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#hi hello i am so excited to finally do the poll ive been wanting to do!!#i have NO IDEA if the gifs are gonna break it đ€·đ»ââïž#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS TESS!!!#also im still not sure which one i want to vote for#i know there are other great bloody dean scenes but these are the ones i already had gifs for!#bloody dean#tw blood#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#spnedit#deanedit#cowboycoven#submission#jenna.poll#bloodydeanseries
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Statistically Speaking...
part of the svt TA collab
kim mingyu x reader
word count: 21k
contains: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise [gyu gets his soul sucked while he's reciting statistical models I mean what]
words of conviction from @highvern: Kim Mingyu, total asshole , 1-800-HOT N DUMB , THEYRE IN LOVE MINGYU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOSER , sick fucking freak , i know when you wrote this you put your head in your hands , OHHHM YW GOD
synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, youâve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldnât know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,âŠit could.
[a/n]: this fic is set in the same universe as @highvern's wonu fic endpoint [read here!!!], some insight for wonu's pov is included here as is some of Mingyu's pov in cam's fic if you'd like to see more about what happens in the gaps!!
I want to start by thanking everyone who chose to be part of this collab fic and for being the reason cam and I were able to open up @camandemstudios in the first place. everyone's been so kind and cooperative and I still cant believe we managed to convince such amazing writers to join us on this collab journey đ„č I love u guys
Thanking my wife camothy @highvern for brainstorming with me since day one and for betaing for me. @seokgyuu and @miabebe for also looking over the doc and reassuring me. I'm for sure forgetting someone and I'm really sorry about that, know that I appreciate you just as much đ€
on that note, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, im HELLA nervous for some reason so plsplspls remember to reblog and send me feedback on how you liked it, I will love you forever <333
masterlist
Monday
A normal person wouldâve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it.Â
But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feelâŠnothing.Â
You couldâve said you saw it coming, which you did, but something about blaming someone else for an exam you took was beginning to feel a little manipulative.Â
Clicking off the student portal, you huff loudly, five in the morning too early for you to begin breaking down over a grade that was completely unreflective of what you were taught.Â
Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope youâll hold back from spitting in your professorâs coffee. But alas, you can only shut your laptop harder than necessary for what it costs and push the grade out of your mind.
You were tired enough to sleep for a couple more hours, and you take it as an opportunity to spite the entire course by giving just as many fucks as your professor did. Â
Which was little to none.Â
That was a lieâon your part anyway. Because you continue to show up, and probably will until you can put this course and all of its trauma behind you. Even now as you feel the inclining beat of your pulse sitting in the white lecture hall, you know this is all but you versus the universe.Â
Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room.Â
Heâs wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. Thereâs pins in every last colour on this earth, littering the front of his jacket with sayings that toe the silver controversial lining. There was one that said Vote for John F. Kennedy, another plain black one with I Eat Kids, and of course, the blaring Cunt written in cursive, pink sparkly letters.Â
This man thatâs pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath.Â
âI have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.â
Heâs talking about the report you coincidentally failed, the same one you were pushed into with little to no direction and a deadline tighter than any youâve had to bully yourself through.Â
âAll I can say is to read through the feedback Iâve given and try a little harder next time.â His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing â?ââs and ânoââs with zero further explanation. He could say more, but youâve learned that he simply chooses to not.Â
Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, thereâs another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. Heâs hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand.Â
The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. Heâs crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were todayâs worksheets.Â
â...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.â
The poor TA looks like he thought heâd have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before heâs flicking past the pages even faster somehow, striking out what seems like the same instruction in the giant pile of papers meant for an entire lecture hall. Thereâs a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks.Â
You hear the familiar warble of papers being passed out and you watch as the TA pulls chunks of sheets out of the giant stack in his arms to slam down onto the front tables.Â
âPass it down, please⊠pass it down, pleaseâŠâ
Thereâs a voice that calls from one of the front seats, âWhat formula is the sheet talking about?â
Mingyu looks startled as he snaps back to look at the blaring empty whiteboard. In the midst of passing papers, you watch him sprint to the rolling whiteboards, pulling one of the giant flats of white over to the other side, the mechanism slamming into place with a louder than comfortable slam. It reveals another whiteboard underneath with the detestably long formula already written (and the one youâd have to figure out yourself).
 The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased.Â
By the time youâve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.
Sure enough, thereâs a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker.Â
Blinking hard, you attempt to pull yourself into the zone, staring at the white sheet with words that are barely stringing themselves together. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially as you lift your head to find hunched shoulders and furrowed brows all around.Â
Thereâs one person thatâs zipping back and forth, just like there always is.Â
You watch as Mingyu hunches over certain laptops and whispers in rapid explanation before moving on to the next, a looming sense of dizziness that trails behind him as he shoots up the stairs to the back rows to help someone else.Â
Thereâs a brief consideration to raise your own hand to ask for help, but one look at his disoriented gaze and the amount of hands that shoot up by the second, you guess it wasnât going to help.
Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation.Â
Tuesday
Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did.Â
So here you are, a printed copy of your supposedly horrid assignment and a pack of multicolour pens in your tote, and determination in your stride, you make your way to the department building.Â
Youâve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you donât dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again.Â
Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door.Â
Nothing.Â
You knock again.
Silence.Â
You glance around the empty hall before grasping onto the cool brass handle of the door, wrenching it open just a peep. Poking your head in, you find the roomâŠempty.
The chairs and tables that usually buzz with discussing students lay barren as you step into the room. Moving to look at the front of the room, you inhale sharply as you realise the professorâs desk has been occupied this entire time.Â
Except heâs asleep.
No, thatâs not the professor.Â
Moving closer, you watch the way his back rises and falls ever so slowly, head resting on his arm as his hand hangs limp off the table. Whipping your head around with more attention this time, you attempt to find an explanation written on the walls. But thereâs none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.
You donât need to see his face to know itâs the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you arenât quite sure what to do.Â
Another glance around the table and you realise his laptop remains on, the screen yet to sleep. Before the obvious issue of a blatant invasion of privacy can befall you, you take a step forward to take a peek.Â
Itâs his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesnât take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance.Â
Glancing down, the man remains fast asleep, pen still in hand as it inks a faint line on the page. You look around the room for the nth time, taking constant glances back at his laptop that tells you heâs actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit.Â
âUm, excuse me.â He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. âExcuse me.â
You couldâve sworn you heard a snore.Â
Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. âExcuse me!â
Thereâs a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire backâs worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.
âWhâow!â The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other.Â
âWâwhatâre you doing here?â he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. Thereâs a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you canât decipher.
âUm, itâs officeââ
His eyes land on the same screen you were peering into just before and it looks like his life flashes before his eyes, widening at the sight as he slams around the table looking for something.Â
âI have to go,â he announces, gripping onto an unstrapped watch as he registers the time, his other hand shoving his laptop and a few papers into a dark messenger bag.Â
âWait, isnât it still office hours?â you call out as he whizzes past you.Â
Heâs swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, âWednesdays and Thursdays.â
âButââ
âItâs on the portal.â
âNo itâs not.â
âYes itââ he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. âIâll double check. But itâs Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.â
âHowââ
A loud slam! of the door.Â
ââlongâŠâÂ
Youâre left draped in silence yet again, the echoes of the slammed door ringing in your startled ears. It all happened too fast for you to process, blinking rapidly as you registered that you were now alone in the room.Â
He said heâd be back, but left you with no indication as to when. By the looks of his god awful schedule, it looked like he had something else to attend to right after whatever it was he buggered off to right now.Â
Fingers clenched into a fist, you consider your options. You could wait, sit on one of the desks and try to get some work done until he gets back.Â
The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. Itâs another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class.Â
She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, âAm I in the right room?â
âUh, yes! I was just leaving,â you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately.Â
Youâre halfway out the door when you hear another call of an âExcuse me!â
âAre these your papers?â The professorâs full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table.Â
The No is ready on your lips. Until it isnât.Â
Later on, youâd consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How youâd ducked under the table to ensure youâd gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face.Â
But as you stare at the stack of files and sheets that lay on your desk at home, you only know of the decent act that youâd committed.
And nothing of the hourglass youâd just turned over.Â
Wednesday
In your Sent box are three emails sent on three separate days, all asking the same recurring question, all responding with the same recurring reply.
I wanted to confirm the days and times for office hours. Iâm aware itâs on the portal but Iâd like to reconfirm.Â
Regards, YN
Dear YN,
Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.
Kim Mingyu, T.A.Â
So there you were on a Wednesday afternoon, 3:59 PM sharp, outside the lecture hall where office hours have always been. With the same tote hung on your shoulders, with the same printed assignment and pack of multicolour pens, and a separated stack of files and folders, you wrench the door open with bated breath.Â
The blended murmur of the usual hustle and bustle of the appointment reassures you first, the sight of scattered students of familiar faces reassures you second. And most of all, a conscious TA that sits at the professorâs desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen.Â
The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isnât too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early youâve swooped in.Â
Thereâs a brief consideration whether this was in the TAâs job description at all, craning your neck to take a full sweep of the room to find a sparing glimpse of the man who should be here. The professor and his loud fashion choices are nowhere to be found.Â
The sigh you let out is heavy and full of an emotion you cannot possibly begin to unpack, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs to slump against. Shoulders sagging, you feel every fibre of your being screaming against your better judgement to pull out some work and to be productive while you wait. Reading over your failed assignment for the nth time, the same one that seemed to be some sick form of rage bait.Â
You pull a couple things out so as to not look awkward sitting and staring into nothing on an empty desk, uncapping your pen and pulling up your sleeves like there was business to be done. Which there was, but none of which you wished to entertain.Â
People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is theyâre doing, too busy to notice your blank stares.Â
The faces are familiar, none of which are people youâve interacted with before but classmates nonetheless. The room is full of shaking legs, spinning pens and hunched backs, not an un-scrunched brow in sight. Thereâs a particular gaggle of girls somewhere around the front, their tables suggesting a work environment but between the whispers, giggles and glances to the front of the room, you assume thereâs one thing in common the both of you werenât doing.Â
Speaking of the front of the room, your matched glance finds you face to face with the student at the main table in the middle of pushing himself off his seat. Your reaction is immediate, hand coming over to slam against the flat of your bag to find the lost straps, moving out of your seat as you keep your eyes on the front of the room.Â
Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebodyâs already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the firstâs intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves.Â
Slamming back down on your own seat, you realise very quickly that trying to get an audience with this TA was going to be harder than you anticipated. Thereâs multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyoneâs time management.Â
Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didnât want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls youâd noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table.Â
Once again, the TA doesnât seem to notice any of the hustle and bustle of the room as his mouth continues to move rapidly, eyes on the question as he invests himself in his explanation.Â
It was unfortunate that the only remaining seat was right next to the louder than necessary group, but you take it as a blessing anyway. Itâs then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you.Â
âAre you here to see him?â
You donât expect a conversation, ears straining to eavesdrop on the other conversation in front of you to find your cue. You snap to look at her in surprise. âPardon?âÂ
âAre you here to see him? Mingyu?â
âUhââ Wasnât everybody? âYeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.â
The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, âGod, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.â
âYeah heâs a bitâŠunorthodox.â
âHeâs unorthodox too.â She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. âA face like that is rare.â
It wasnât that she was wrong, it didnât take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people youâd meet in your lifetime. But the appeal lasted for all of five minutes for you, flitting away when you noticed that he dragged along a veryâŠoverwrought⊠suggestion wherever he went.Â
It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be.Â
But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool youâd sound if you admitted to anything other than such.Â
âIt is. His willpowerâs somehow even rarer,â you add. âDonât know how he does it.â
âGod, tell me about it. Forget getting his number, trying to have more than a three sentence exchange with him without some statistical nonsense involved is near impossible.â Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory.Â
Taking a glance down at her notes, you find the printed sheet littered with glitter gel pen ink lining the edges, doodles of stars and hearts and small anime characters next to p values and z scores.Â
Thereâs a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and itâs like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head.Â
You jerk in your seat, like you could jump over the table and land in the emptying seat with some god-given stroke of luck, like the person already standing next to the chair wouldnât hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics.Â
Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind.Â
Alas, you donât tumble over the table or kick back your chair, merely making a forceful motion in your seat, palms itching terribly as you watch the girl with her open laptop balanced in her arms move to take a seat.Â
You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you.Â
Suddenly, the girl looks startled as sheâs told to wait.Â
âSheâs been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you donât mind,â you hear him say, voice strained as you turn to look at him. His hands are outstretched to motion towards you a few feet across from him.Â
For whatever reason, you had no thought that he mightâve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when heâd spoken to you, perhaps he mightâve thought he dreamt it. Or heâd just forgotten it altogether.Â
The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality.Â
âThank you.â
It comes out of both of you, snapping to look at each other hardly a moment as you go back to smiling at the retreating student.Â
âYou can come right after her,â he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading.Â
Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables.Â
You pause at first, staring at the table in front of you like it was worth trying to climb over or even crawl under it to get to the desk. Another moment of eye contact as he stares at your unmoving form with a blank look, and the heat pools your skin.Â
Staggering for a moment, you end up moving past your chair and walking the way round anyway, the screeching of the chairs only nurturing the existing budding humiliation for no apparent reason.Â
It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising youâd forgotten your bag in your seat.Â
Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an âOh!â as you spring back up immediately. Itâs easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat.Â
The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like sheâs trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat.Â
Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once youâve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do.Â
âRight. How can I help you?â
Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him.Â
One look at the sparse format of the cover page, he blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page.Â
âItâs a 37,â you inform him like he couldnât see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell.Â
âDo you think you deserved a better grade?â he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know.Â
It stumps you regardless.
âWellâŠI know I can do better, at least,â you decide to answer.Â
âYouâre here, which means youâre at least willing to try. Thatâs a start,â he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.
âI remember marking this,â he says, looking up to address you. âYour concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.â
âYou marked them?â
He raises his brow, âI hope that wasnât an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.â
âI thought the professor marked the lab reports.â
âHeâsâŠsupposed to.â Thereâs a forced reservedness in his voice. âI mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But Iâm not sure youâd fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.â
Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise youâre at a loss for words.Â
Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You donât have an explanation, but itâs somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man thatâs meant to help you. âI donât know what to do anymore.â
âThatâs alright,â he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. âWeâll work through it.â
He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand.Â
Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.
âLab reports can be quite tricky if you arenât sure what youâre doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?â
You mean the one that did nothing to help? âYes.â
âYou got those bits right, format and whatnot. Butââ
âIt was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,â you say plainly.
Mingyu lips are in a tight line. âWell, yes, but it helpsââ
âI know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I donât need a PDF to tell me that,â you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. âI want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.â
âDr. Choââ
âIs no help.â
âI understandââ
âHe canât even mark his own papers. Iâm quite sure thatâs not in your job description. Itâs supposed to be him here. Not you.â
Itâs silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyuâs fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger.Â
âAnd yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.â He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. âAnd, better that Iâm here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.â
Help, he did.Â
Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered in a rainbow of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag.Â
You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.
âI almost forgot,â you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him.Â
âWhere did you find this?â he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue.Â
âYou left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,â you say, before quickly adding, âThere was a class right after you left. I took them off the professorâs hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.â
âIâve been looking all over for these,â he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. âThank you.â
You flush for some reason, âOâof course, couldnât just leave them there.â
Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. âMaybe donât run out of rooms still half asleep.â
By the grace of God, he laughs, âNo, youâre right. I should be careful.â
It isnât till youâre pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. âYou can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.â
âPardon?â
Heâs stood up as well. âI have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.âÂ
Feet planted on the ground, thereâs not much you can do but stare. âUm, sure. I can come in a little early.â
He nods casually, âThanks again for the papers. And the watch.â
You smile, âNo problem.â
Thursday
True to your punctual nature, you make yourself known at exactly 3:29 PM.
Mingyu is at the desk, conscious and on the phone, eyes closed as he rests his face on his fist.
âI donât know if I can make time for thatâno, I understand, sir,â
Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt heâs entirely comfortable with.Â
âIâll see what I can do.â
His phone hits the table with a heartbreaking thud, both hands covering his face as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.Â
âLight on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,â he startles when he notices you.Â
Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. âSorry.â
You know itâs invasive, and you also know you might be asking him to break some unknown university code of conduct, but curiosity takes charge as you ask a casual question. âImportant call?â
âUh, yeah, um, just work stuff,â he states, shaking his head swiftly like heâs trying to shake the thought out of his mind.Â
Thereâs a pause while you're slipping your papers and laptop out of your bag, during which he seems to have decided to divulge a little more.Â
âIt was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,â he says. âAs always.âÂ
âDoes he do anything other than show up to class?â you ask through a snort.Â
âOf course he does. He cusses out every article he doesnât agree with, is anything but objective andâŠthe occasional relay of blatant misinformation.âÂ
For the record, youâd never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months heâd been TA-ing for the semester. It was small whispers of choice words in a vague voice, the distant murmur as he exchanged with the professor too far for you to hear.Â
The voice of the seemingly quiet and diligent TA was never known to you, not until yesterday as he explained statistical models and the flaws of your data presentation.Â
Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable.Â
That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professorâit was something you couldnât quite believe he was capable of.Â
âIâm sorry you have to put up with him.â
Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, âAnything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, heâs done a lot for the area, canât discredit him entirely.â
With your eyebrows raised, he seems to catch your expression. He pants out a laugh, and your stomach lurches as you watch it reach his eyes, teeth on display, a lurch in his chest; a true laugh.Â
Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, âIâm stuck.â
Thereâs nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. âI am too. Help.â
Help, he does.
Monday
Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday.Â
The thirty minutes before office hours began soared by like they were nothing, and you were ready to take your leave the minute students began to scatter in as the clock hit a swift four. Except he kept going, another 30 minutes in deep concentration as he retaught you nearly everything from scratch.Â
Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you donât tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, âMake that two, please.â
It might also be important to mention the 7:30 AM on the dial on a bright Monday morning as you walked into your slightly less dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, knowing there would only be one other person insane enough to get to the lecture hall this early.Â
Something isnât right.Â
Mingyu is in a position all too familiar to you and everyone else who shares this class, hunched over something or the other in deep focus. The sun pours in through the lifted blinds, the lights of the class turned off as natural light does more than enough of the job.Â
It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction youâve had with him.Â
He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. ââMorning!âÂ
â...Morning.â
âYouâre early,â he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach.Â
âFigured we both needed this,â you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. âItâs a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.â
âOâoh, thank you. And youâre right I did need this.â
Now that youâre closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer.Â
To Do:
Call mom
Shoot myself
âYou, umââ Itâs alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lilâ something on your face.
But all you do is dumbly point to your own cheek, eyes trained on the loud piece of paper that tells more than he might like the world to know.Â
Thereâs a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. âFor fuckâs sake.â
âItâs okay! I wannaâŠshoot myself too sometimes.âÂ
What the fuck?
âI mean!â you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. âItâs okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.â
Itâs all the more petrifying when your voice echoes across the blatantly empty lecture hall, reverberating like it was a punishment for you and your horrid lack of volume control. Meeting his eyes feels like a sin right now, so you keep them downcast and pray he doesnât try to sabotage your education.Â
âGood thing it was just you. Yeah.â
Just you.
âAnyways, I think Iâm done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?âÂ
âHave you seen the time?âÂ
âNot a morning person?â
âNope!â
âAnd yet itâs 7:40 on a Monday morning and youâre absurdly early.â His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you.Â
âDo you want the coffee or not?â you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself.Â
The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair.Â
He gives you a crooked grin,âI apologise.â
âTo be fair,â he continues. âIâm not much of a morning person either.â
You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, âIâm starting to think no moneyâs worth this job.â
Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, âYouâre right. Not sure why Iâm still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.â
âAnd that isnât happening becauseâŠ?â
Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. âI like Dr. Cho.â
âYouââ
âI know,â he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. âI know. I sound like a lunatic.â
âI donât know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.â
âAnother would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.âÂ
âDonât get smart with me.â
âExcuse me for doing my job.â
He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, âNo, but really. I canât imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.â
Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. âWhen I was in my first year, there was this other class I had where we had to write a lab report for the first time.â
âPSYCH101?â
âThatâs the one. Iâd never written one before, but I liked statistics enough to do a little more digging than what the assignment called for. I ended up finding one of Dr. Choâs studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything heâd published, some of âem before any of us were even born.âÂ
âOh. So youâre a fan.â
âEveryone tells you to never meet your idols,â he snickers. âHeâs done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.â
âIâm sorry it had to be you,â you half joke.Â
Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, âThat might also be my own fault.âÂ
âDonât tell me you offered.â
âI might as well have. All my assignments referenced his work the most. I was always talking to him about upcoming research after class, and it was like he was a different person. Forget differing opinions, some of what he was saying was justâŠplain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldnâtâcanâtâstand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know itâs not true. He was always emailing me extra resources whichâŠIâm pretty sure he isnât supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.âÂ
He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, âI guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know Iâm getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.â
âDid heâŠhave a TA when you were in his class?âÂ
âFour.â
âFour?!â
âTwo at a time. All of âem quit at some point. Said they didnât want the recommendation or the pay.â
âWould heâŠnot give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.â
Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, âHeâs a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If youâve impressed him, youâve impressed everyone.â
You take a moment to really absorb everything youâve just learned. âThatâs a sucky position youâre in.â
âTell me about it. But itâs okay. Threeâthree and a half more months to go? This isnât even the worst of it, Iâm just dreading study week when Iâm gonna have to handle all the crying.â
You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept youâd be alright with this class.Â
âI know youâre not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.â
âEver heard of barriers to entry? Iâd be ruined if I wanted a career in this.â
You roll your eyes playfully, âAll Iâm saying is Iâve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months Iâve spent cursing this very lecture hall.â
If you werenât lying to yourself, you couldâve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you canât help but bite back your own smile.Â
âIf I can help you then itâs worth losing myself.â
Your heart is in your fucking throat.
âIâm glad when students tell me that,â he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. âMakes me feel like Iâm doing something right.â
âYouâreââ you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. âYouâre doing more than just something right. Youâre saving us therapy and an extra semester.â
He laughs at that, and you wish heâd let you breathe.Â
âFeels like Iâm doing something wrong sometimes,â he huffs. âMy friendâs a TA too and heâs got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else heâs got going on.âÂ
He goes on, âDo you know how many times I need to ask people to quit twirling their hair? To look at the page and not my face? Asking for my number, I have an email for a reason, for fuckâs sakeââ
Mingyu is cut off because youâre laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. âWâwhat?â
âIâm sorry,â you hiccup. âItâs justâŠIt sounds like you donât know what you look like.â
âWhatâs wrong with how I look?â he frowns.
âNothing!â you exclaim. âBut thatâs the problem isnât it.â
Mingyu doesnât seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.
âCanât possibly be enough to distract people,â he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he canât get through to.Â
âMajority of the class would beg to differ.â
Thereâs a pause as he registers what you imply.Â
After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, âWould⊠you alsoââ
Thereâs a loud creak of the door as you hear the immediate noises of shuffling feet and chattering mouths, as low and tired as they sounded. Turning back to look at Mingyu, heâs already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned.Â
âThatâs our cue,â you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professorâs desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu whoâs suddenly frantic.Â
Of course you realise thereâs people other than just the two of you in the room, heightened in seats that are designed to ensure they can absorb every detail that goes on right where you stand in the front of the room.
But you feel the soft of Mingyuâs shirt over his wrist as you give him a gentle squeeze despite it all, barely enough pressure. Half your index finger brushes the skin of his hand, just enough to register how cold your fingertips are and how warm his body is.Â
âRelax,â you whisper. âYouâll be better off without all the panic.â
You donât see his face as you brush past him and up to your seat, looking up to see him disappear somewhere in the corner hunched over another stack of papers. The next time you see Mingyuâs face is when the professor arrives and has begun his regularly scheduled tomfoolery, and realise all the age that can accumulate in the span of five minutes.Â
Thursday
Midterm season is nothing youâve ever really had to worry about.Â
Something about the halfway point did make it obvious that the clock was ticking, but danger was far enough away to prevent the ultimate breakdowns reserved for the peak seasons.Â
Except this class isnât ordinary, and itâs all youâre able to worry about all semester. And as Dr. Cho in his Thrasher vest announces the date for the in class midterm, the glass once half empty, suddenly looks very half full.Â
âIâm not ready.â
âYouâre more ready than anyone else in class.â
âHow do you know that?â
Mingyu stares at you blankly, âIf I donât know that, then who else does?â
You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time youâve teared up in front of him, but also because youâre in a library following Mingyu around like a lost duck because he insists on putting the books he borrowed back onto the shelves himself after registering the return.Â
âBut I donât feel like Iâm ready,â you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book.Â
âYouâll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,â he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up.Â
Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, âYou only feel that way because Iâve been giving you harder problems to work on. Youâre past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, youâre more than prepared.â
âButââ
âListen,â he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. âItâs only the midtermââ
âOnly theââ
âIf this goes wrong, Iâm just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it wonât go wrong because I said so.â
You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard.Â
âIâm assumingâŠâ you start.Â
âHm?â he looks over to you.
âIâm assuming you canât hint at whatâs on the paper.â
Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, âYou assume correct. Iâm not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.â
âBut itâs just the midterm,â you mumble, not even close to remotely audible.Â
âWhat did you say?â Mingyu smirks.Â
âNothing,â you huff.
âYou know, Iâm a little offended you donât trust me.â
âWho said I didnât.â
âWell then, stop being such a worrywart.â
There must be something written on your face, because as you pass Mingyu standing at the door he keeps open for you, entering into the coffee shop with fallen shoulders, he seems to change his mind.Â
He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. âI made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know youâre gonna be fine.â
In that moment, with the large glass walls of the warm coffee shop, the afternoon sun comfortably resting on every last object of the room, you donât see it illuminate anything other than the man before you.Â
Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you donât take anything into account as you note Mingyuâs eyes and how they sparkle like they were gifted from the centre of a flaming volcano, brown and polished more than any jewel or stone youâd ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know youâd feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend.Â
Heâd given you more than just reassurance, and at times, his timing makes it feel like he was sent from the heavens itself, just for you.Â
You sniffle.Â
His hands brush over yours as he hands you a napkin, and even more so, cover your own as he takes your freezing fingertips into his own palm, the contact burning you like hot coal.Â
You know heâs real. And you donât know why quite just yet, but that reassurance is enough to give you calm.
Monday
You were alright, but it seems that Mingyu seemed to disintegrate right after he was done reassuring you to the moon and Saturn and Jupiter and back.
Itâs midterm day, and as always on every Monday morning, you enter the empty lecture hall with two warm coffees in your hand, ready for whatever shitshow youâd have to perform for today.
It seems Mingyu must defect from at least one regular string of behaviour to remain as Mingyu, who on this occasion, stands before you in a baby blue polo sweater.Â
Except you only know that because you can see the unique collar, but it might also be important that his back is turned towards you.Â
âMorning, champ,â he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest.Â
Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed.Â
âWhyâre you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?â he huffs in one long, rapid question.Â
âUm, I mean,â you stare at his shirt thatâs backwards. And inside out. âI canât tell if thatâs a choice or a mistake.â
Looking down at his front, he looks back up, âWhat?â
âYour collar isâŠnot at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirtâs inside out.â
Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. Heâs immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like itâd all disappear if he keeps them like that.Â
âWait!â you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. âDo you wanna strip for the CCTVs?â
You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him.Â
Youâve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, heâs blabbing about wondering why everyone he ran into since he left home was giving him the strangest looks, and then something about you always swooping in to save him before the real bout of disaster strikes.Â
Itâs hard for you to listen to him when youâre more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasnât a breathing corpse.Â
âMingyuâŠdid you sleep at all?â
âHm?â His eyes are glazed over and unfocused.Â
âSleep? Rest?â
âOh,â he frowns. âNot really. I had emails coming in all night.â
âAnd you were replying?â
âIt's the midterm today,â he responds flatly, like it shouldâve been enough explanation.Â
You almost donât believe him. âDoesnât mean you stay up to answer something that shouldâve been cleared out beforehand!â
âCouldnât just leave them to fend for themselves,â he dramatises.Â
âYes, you could!â Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what heâs doing to himself. âYou barely look human and itâs only the midterm.â
âWhatâre you trying to say?â
âI donât know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.â
Mingyuâs jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. âI canât get anywhere if I donâtââ
âMingyu, please. This isnât good for you.â
He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. âIf you think this job isnât worth it then you just donât know.â
âMingyuââ
âNo, you donât, because Iâve seen how good of a job Iâve been doing.â
âYou have, youâve been amazing butââ
Mingyuâs own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. âThen whatâs the problem?â
âHave you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!â
And then heâs getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, âWhy on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if Iâm doing my job?âÂ
It mightâve been better if he knocked the chair right into you, your breath dissipating in your chest like it never existed. His face is morphed in an expression of exasperation your anxieties fear the most, every line on his face committed to irritation and anger.Â
Why on earth do you care so much?
Right. Why do you?Â
âAre you asking me that?â
âWhat?â
âAre you asking me why I care?âÂ
Mingyu only sighs, shoulders dropping and eyes closed. Like so many times before, you watch run a hand through his hair, except this time he yanks on the strands harder than ever before.Â
His eyes are bloodshot.Â
âI have to get the exam pack.â
Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, youâre left with a feeling thatâs right in the back of your throat, curling and whirling into something you wish you could hack and gag out. Gripping the corner of the professorâs desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin.Â
Thereâs a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. Itâs like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.
Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.
Everything youâd subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didnât fit where the laws wouldnât allow it.Â
The null hypothesis of your most elaborate nightmares.
Monday
Your favourite commonplace box, where your mother once placed all her most prized jewels, had a finicky latch.Â
It wasnât broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didnât work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again.Â
You were never satisfied until you heard the distinct click of the latch fixing itself, the box closed and ready for you to hook your lock through.
Earlier on in your undergraduate career, you remember a professor talking about the effects of external factors on the mind, how they can sometimes cause it to âshut downâ when overwhelmed or stressed.Â
Itâs happened to you on many a occasion; like when you stayed up too late on a school night to watch a documentary about the Stanford prison experiment, or when youâd neglect food or water on busier days, or when youâd stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday.Â
Regardless, youâd found a way to recognise when your brain would fall into some strange kahoots with daydreams, or whatever was bothering you, and learned ways to give yourself a reset.Â
Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldnât work, just like how the latch wouldnât fit when youâd do the same with your beloved old box. So youâd take a walk, drink something cold, spray yourself with a garden hose, or even take a nap altogether. Opening yourself up, so the latch can finally click.Â
On the morning of your midterm, when youâd ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones youâll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself.Â
Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, youâd seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to.Â
Somebody else might consider it a minor disagreement; an anxious squabble if you will. But your breakfast in your throat was enough reason to deem what happened that morning much more than that. At least for you.Â
âPass it on, pleaseâŠpass it on, please.â
The sound of his voice is tectonic. Rattling in your head like a superior force had slammed into your skull like a padded hammer to a gong.Â
You hated it. You hated everything. You hated yourself. And as the midterm paper reaches you with your pen in your clawed fingers, the first three questions already making perfect sense, you realise you hated Kim Mingyu the most.Â
That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again.Â
Because it was quite the opposite. You couldnât hate him.Â
As you drift past every question of conditional experiments and screenshots of data and tables on a software, you hardly remember what you circle and what you donât. Hardly remember what words you picked for the short answers and labels. You hardly remember taking the steps down from your seat to the front of the room, where the professor sat scrolling through his Skateboarders [!MEN ONLY!] facebook group, placing your paper down and leaving the classroom.Â
Throughout your years of living, youâd learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it.Â
Everything. You tried everything.Â
But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.
Itâs Wednesday.Â
You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; itâs safe and you know youâll like it.Â
Savouring it is easy in front of another true crime show. You pull a lone soft drink from your fridge, one that your friend left weeks ago. It tastes just as bad as the last time you tasted it from someone elseâs cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash.Â
Itâs 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. Itâs strange. It feels like youâre missing something, which in ways, you are. But as you pull your laptop from your nightstand instead of out of your bag, you slow your movements.Â
The papers are the same. But you read them anyway.Â
Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another.Â
Itâs accursed the way the universe wonât let you live.Â
Thereâs a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect.Â
Estimation cannot be perfect.Â
[_]
Itâs Thursday
Class. Eat. Drink. Work.
Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation.Â
Thereâs a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!
[_]
Itâs Friday
Eat. Drink. Work.
Latent means to have meaning but is yet to be manifested. The greek letters are placeholder values for values yet unknown.Â
Thereâs a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out
[_]
Itâs Saturday
Eat. Drink. Work.
P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)
              ââââââ
                     P(B)
Thereâs a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;
 it gets less complicated
 promise :/Â
[_]
Itâs Sunday.
Eat. Drink. Work.
The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt.Â
Thereâs a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;
youâve got this!!! < 3
You give up.
Itâs Monday.
8:14 AM.Â
You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Choâs outfit almost goes unnoticed by you, tamer than most. Bright Barbie pink with large polka dots, untucked into too tight white jeans. His crocs are sparkly, at least thatâs what the twinkle from up here looks like.Â
Heâs insulting another author, the manâs ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal.Â
Thereâs another person next to the whiteboards, back to the wall, hands clasped in front of him. His hair is messy, shooting lasers into the carpet as he rocks the slightest bit, listening to the professor rip this author to shreds.Â
An hour later, youâre staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language.Â
Glancing next to you, the boy in the spongebob hoodie is playing sharkboy and lavagirl by himself. On your other side, the girl has the same thing as you open on her laptop, her pen occupied with drawing about a hundred tiny gojos on a bright pink sticky note.Â
Bright pink sticky note.Â
You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that.Â
9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag.Â
Dr. Cho doesnât even notice you slip out of the room, hardly a minute to the end of the lecture.
In the hallway, you take your first real breath in two hours.Â
Itâs Tuesday.
Youâve come down with something, head heavy as you feel yourself burn up. Skipping class is easy when you sleep through your alarm and every phone call from a friend asking where you are.Â
They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better.Â
Itâs silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it.Â
Opening your laptop for the first time in over 24 hours, you turn on a random podcast to play in the background, needing something to fill the air before you lose it entirely.Â
The screen lands right where you left on the incredulous data presentation, unsolved tutorial paper crumpled between the screen and keyboard like a wilted leaf.Â
Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.
Itâs Wednesday.
After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.
Itâs Thursday.Â
Walking out of class, your mind is empty. Youâre still sniffling, still achey, but better than you were. The shawl wrapped around you is warm, and your hood covers the cold tips of your ears.Â
This other class makes you feel better about yourself, especially when the content is digestible and so is the professor. The TA feels like a mere accessory in the room, something youâve learned to appreciate.Â
With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway.Â
It happens in an instant, the flash of a clenched hand as the owner walks by in quick stride. An unmistakable leather strap watch with a broken clock face on the wrist.
You freeze like youâve been caught.Â
The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed âHey!â knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension.Â
Youâre off centre. But itâs fine.Â
Itâs Monday.
âMidterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions Iâll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, eitherâs fine.â
Dr. Cho isnât here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour.Â
You want to leave, not caring about how strange itâd look if you did. Not caring about how he would definitely notice if you did. You want him to shut up, to stop talking, for anything to halt the way his voice infiltrates your entire being, talking about things you donât understand but more familiar than anything else.Â
Mingyuâs voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference.Â
Itâs Tuesday.
Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.
â 92/100
Itâs Wednesday.Â
4:10 PM. Itâs almost too much for you. Almost.Â
The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handleâs rebound even more so. The room doesnât so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things.Â
The front desk perks up immediately, eyes shooting towards the door for the nth time that day, like he was expecting someone that never seemed to show up.Â
Itâs ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months youâve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, heâs breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view.Â
âDid you feel bad?â you spit.
âWhat?â he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, âCan we talk? Please.â
âAnswer the question, Mingyu,â you snap. You donât care thereâs a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. âDid you feel so bad you had to give me something I didnât earn?â
Heâs stood up now, half confused. âIs this about the midtermââ
âI did not get a ninety two, I know I didnât,â you grit. âWhatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldnât.â
Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. âWhat makes you think Iâd do something like that?â
âI donât know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?â you announce, louder than before.Â
The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyuâs face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage youâve felt only a few times before. Your heart is going about a million miles a breath, everything else only triggering an added bout of infuriated tremble in the forefront of your emotions. Nothing makes sense.Â
Mingyu pushes back his chair in silence, stalking over to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. He shuffles around for a minute before returning.Â
Thereâs a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes.Â
A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.
âHere. It was all you, if you canât believe me.â
Itâs a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two.Â
Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason itâs only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You donât open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages.Â
Because you know youâve lost.
Itâs Thursday. And itâs full of regret.Â
Thereâs a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. Itâs in your mind, flooding the nerves that swim through every crevice and cave of your brain, a physical venom that does the opposite of kill but also the opposite of letting you live.Â
Thereâs a feeling in you, that even if you were to open your mouth, unhinge your jaw, try to scream as loud as your throat would allow, there would be no sound. Something like a horrible dream, that you need to screw your eyes tight shut to fall out of. Except you arenât waking up from this one.Â
In a coffee shop, where Mingyu held your hand in a reassurance you now bleed for, you were sure he was real. Real like some deiform image; too good to be true.Â
In your bed, dry tears on your face, midterm packet sifted through that showed you absolutely everything that you did right, thanks to him. He feels too real. Real like a cloud of obsidian that follows you everywhere, like the sad thatâs been sleeping with you every night.Â
If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, youâve crossed it with the resentment youâve now fostered for yourself.Â
Barging into office hours like that, accusing him on a basis of nothing but your own dangerously stewed thoughts. If there was a hope of salvaged parts, you took a hammer to it in disregard; tearing it to ribbons that lay at your feet.Â
Itâs Friday.
At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial.Â
Two weeks of no help and you already feel lightyears behind. The hour is getting to you, and you feel the frustration pool into tears, that turn into full fledged sobs. Youâre crying over Bayesian inference and itâs somehow more pressing than any other emotion youâve ever felt.Â
Impossible numbers on your data sheets taunt you, not a single reference to if it was a button you clicked wrong or if you were playing a foolâs game altogether.Â
Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth.Â
[Mingyu]: switch to bF10Â
[Mingyu]: youâve been pulling numbers from bF01
Itâs immediate the way your eyes dart towards your lit screen, clicking off tables to get to the drop down menu you need. And there on the left, two tiny buttons, one clicked on bF01.Â
With shaking fingers, you move your cursor to hover over the tiny bF10, anticipating. You click. It takes a moment for the numbers to change, but they do. The nominal values turn into something you can actually work with.Â
Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. Itâs stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before.Â
Do you not miss me?
Do you not want me around?
Talk to me
I miss you
Please talk to me
âI couldnâtâcanâtâstand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know itâs not true.â
Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine heâs helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing youâd make blunders out of.Â
The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knifeâs twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything heâs bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place.Â
Thereâs a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality.Â
Itâs Saturday.Â
Perhaps you relied on your olfactory senses to remain calm, because you always knew you could count on a coffee shop to forever and always smell the same.Â
The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too.Â
âLatte, please,â you voice. âIced.â
âWe have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?â The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice.Â
âUm, no thank you. Just one, please.â
She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldnât bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand.Â
Youâre plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name.Â
â...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.âÂ
âHe has time to hook up?â
âI remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.âÂ
âA ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.â
âWhatever, at least we know heâll entertain you if he likes you enough. Iâm just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.â
Thereâs an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further.Â
âUnless he flirts in variables.â
âAll is forgiven when youâre born with a face like that.âÂ
Another explosion of giddy laughter, through which your drink is slid across the counter towards you, like it was waiting for you to hear the damning evidence before you could leave. You grab it anyway, grip tighter than usual.Â
Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls.Â
There she is, the girl you sat with on the first day you attended office hours, the one with the glitter gel pen doodles on her notes and her blatant fawns over the TA you slipped under just as easily.Â
She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition.Â
Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesnât look as menacing as you feel. You donât wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.
Itâs Sunday.
It seems every sip of water youâve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears youâve seemed to be shedding. By the bucketload.
Alas, even blurry and puffy eyed, you pour over statistical formulas anyway, running on no energy and all antagonism. Itâs another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle.Â
Reading the same question for the nth time, your palms press into your temples as you stare lasers into the paper, like the revelation would come to you if you stared it down hard enough. It doesnât make sense, the commands youâve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page.Â
Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator.Â
With a heat of unreasonable embarrassment, you find yourself checking your selection in one of the drop down menus, switching to bF01 and back just to see the difference. It does nothing to help, and you canât help but feel a little relieved it wasnât that particular snag.Â
The library is as silent as it could possibly be on a Sunday morning, near empty as you occupy the mostly vacant seats. The librarian is having her own day off, as you could swear sheâs playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work.Â
The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. Youâre going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and disappearing before going back to normal.Â
Bayesian inferenceâŠz scoresâŠnull hypothesisâŠ
Wait.Â
Itâs like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone elseâs dark blue on your notes.
no null hypothesis in bayesian approach
Bayesian approaches donât use null hypotheses. And z scores are inâŠ
âOh my god, this is a t test,â you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, youâre scrambling to shake your laptop out of its sleep, switching over to a t test to redo everything, following the instructions on the same data set.Â
And there it wasâŠa clear 0.067 under the p value.Â
In a moment of questioning, you laugh out a breathy sound, the absurdity of it all becoming too real. T tests were the first thing you learned, the foundation to all your statistical knowledge. Coming so far, and it took you days to realise the instructions under a Bayesian approach were for a different realm entirely.Â
It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you canât help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library.Â
When the initial adrenaline fades and youâve double, triple checked to ensure you were right, you can only stare at the tiny mail button in your shortcuts on the screen. It was clearly an error, one that was given out to nearly a hundred students.Â
The first step was clicking, your inbox coming to life as you drift towards the big blue button with the readily available NEW MAIL. So you click.Â
Thereâs an attached file in the email you draft.Â
The tutorial paper has titled t test instructions as a Bayesian approach. Just wanted to point it out and ask if I could receive a corrected version.Â
Regards, YN
Itâs almost like youâre trying to remember how it feels like when you type an experimental m in the To bar. His name pops up immediately, email address typed out in full, full name clear on top as a regular contact.Â
You donât need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own.Â
But you donât email him, backspacing till itâs empty once again.Â
Dr. Choâs email sits in that place instead, a first for you.Â
SEND.
You donât expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you arenât sure if heâs going to respond at all. Youâve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. Youâre forced to consider.Â
Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well?Â
A spiteful part of you might find joy in correcting him for a change. The rational part of you wants to actually finish the tutorial before tomorrowâs class when youâd have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week.Â
Sitting back down, you move without thinking. Your mind is still cooking up possibilities as you swing your screen open once again, still weighing as you click back into your inbox.Â
Thereâs a new email in your sent box after youâre done, a copy of the one you sent your professor, the same attachment and the same question; word for word. The only difference, a more familiar name in the address bar.Â
Before you can chicken out, you slam your laptop shut for the actual last time, shoving everything into your bag before the speeding thoughts can infiltrate your mind's barrier. Youâre out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this.Â
Youâre afraid if you put a hand to your stomach itâd be met with kicks and punches, especially with the way you feel the aggressive cartwheels slashing away at your insides. The butterflies are making it to the end of your food pipe, and you briefly wonder if you need to break into a sprint to make it to a safe throwing up zone. Your entire being jolts as you feel a buzz in your hands, a loud click that signifies a new email in your inbox.Â
Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop.Â
The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. Thereâs no way to tell if youâre shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen.Â
RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu
It couldnât have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, itâs almost funny you expected any different from him.Â
The kicks and punches in your stomach halt, the cartwheels have calmed, the butterflies have fallen asleep. The grip on your phone has loosened, and itâs like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift.Â
Clicking on the notification, the email opens.Â
Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. Iâll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.
Kim Mingyu, T.A.
There was no way he didnât have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and youâre sure he knew youâd realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes.Â
But instead, you find your feet making a 180, turning around to go right back to where you came from. You walk, eyes still half trained on the email, reading and rereading as you walk back onto campus, towards the building youâd once considered a second home.Â
You walk, and walk and walk, in through the doors, up the stairs and then another set of them, you take a left and look up. The hallway is empty, the door on the right coming into view as you slow your steps significantly.Â
Closer and closer, you realise the light surrounding it is brighter than usual. The door is open, and you can see the empty rows of tables and chairs, set neatly against one another. Itâs strange, youâve never seen it wide open before.Â
Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professorâs desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward.Â
Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. Itâs warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather.Â
The desk up front is occupied, as it always is.Â
Mingyu is only in a t-shirt and trousers, glasses perched on his nose as he scrawls away on the paper in front of him. His laptop is turned on, screen facing the door where you stand, his inbox open and available even on the weekend.Â
It wasnât that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, youâd done your absolute best to avoid your eyes grazing over him at all costs, hardly drifting over his form before flitting away. You never did it on purpose, but it was more like you were unconsciously protecting yourself.
 Like looking at him would only make the ache in your heart worse.
If that was the case, you wouldâve been right. Thereâs a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed.Â
Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. Thereâs the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, ââMorning.â
You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. ââMorning.â
You reach the desk, standing in front of him, the only thing blocking you being the littered table with files, papers and stationary; the trench between you both.Â
Itâs so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do.Â
âI, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.â Thereâs an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now.Â
He clears his throat when you donât respond, looking back down at his workspace like he was looking for something. He finds a paper from some stack, handing it over to you.Â
âThanks,â you hoarse. Itâs the same tutorial you had, except the instructions had been crossed out, replaced by a list of handwritten instructions instead, detailed in their annotation. You recognise it, because of course youâd recognise his handwriting.Â
âI didnât have time to print one out right now. Iâll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,â he explains.Â
âThatâs alright.â You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. âThanks again. IâllâŠget going.âÂ
Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. Youâre already halfway to the door though, and your prideâs already deemed it too late.Â
Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop meâ
There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice.Â
Turning back around is the easiest thing youâve ever done.Â
Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasnât expecting you to turn back. âCan we talk?âÂ
And then heâs pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you couldâve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, âPlease?â
So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man thatâs haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in.Â
âI guess I should start with an apology,â heâs fidgeting with his own fingers. âI donât need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion becauseâŠâ
He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. âI didnât mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. Iâm sorry I spoke to you like that when you didnât deserve it.âÂ
For about the millionth time, you realise youâre tearing up again. He continues. âAnd thenâŠright before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didnât touch those numbers.â
He really didnât, because the papers he had thrust into your hands on that fateful day in this very room proved that you earned that mark. You wince regardless.
âI thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldnât find you, and then you were gone right after. I didnât text or call because I was sure Iâd fucked it all up.âÂ
âIâm sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasnât thinking straight.â You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. âI really hope you didnât get into any trouble.âÂ
âIâno, I didnât.â
âAre you sure? Becauseââ
âI promise I didnât.â He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping youâd believe him. You nod slowly.Â
âIt wasnât even that bad, what you said,â you sniffled.Â
He scoffs at that, âIâd beg to differ.â
âI wouldâve gotten over it,â you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something youâve had trouble admitting to yourself. âI shouldâve gotten over it. I donât know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I havenât been acting like normal ever since, and Iâm sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didnât need to turn intoâŠthis!â
âYou were hurt because I hurt you.â
âPeople have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I shouldâve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. ButâŠyeah.â
Thereâs a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. âI just want us to go back to normal. Iâve missed you. Alot.â
âMe too. The go back to normal bit. And theâŠmissed you bit.â
Mingyuâs half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. âIâd thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, thatâd be admitting defeat. That youâd think IâŠcouldnât do it.âÂ
Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears.Â
You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasnât what he meant.âSince when are we on caring terms?âÂ
Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."
Itâs hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words.Â
âOh well Iâd hope youâd care, since youâre my TA and all.â
âNot in a TA way.â
âTutor way.â
âUm.â
âFriend way? A human way?âÂ
âNo.â
You both know youâre being obtuse on purpose, and you arenât sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm.Â
âYou know what?â he rasps.Â
âWhat?â
Your answer comes in the form of Mingyu lurching to grab the legs of your chair, pulling the wheels to crash into him where he sits. Youâre not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyuâs lap.Â
And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own.Â
Youâre stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom.Â
Itâs short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. âDoes that clear things up?â
Thereâs nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. âHm.â
He laughs at your half dazed state. Itâs a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. âMaybe one more time. To make sure.â
Mingyu doesnât even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. Thereâs more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close.Â
The ecstasy is slow but sure to build in your stomach. Mingyu is kissing you. Mingyu is sitting with you and kissing you so good youâre already half faint.Â
His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you canât believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasnât some too vivid fever dream.Â
He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours.Â
âFor the record,â he pants. âI love that you care. And I hope youâll keep caring. Because I donât think I can handle it if you walk away after this.â
Mouth back on his own, you decide thereâs only one way to convince him you werenât going anywhere without dragging him with you.Â
MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You arenât sure what you were expecting, perhaps more mad scientist than anything else. But the most you find is a mug and plate in the sink, and a moderately crowded study desk, which is to be expected.Â
Mingyu decided to abandon his work for the day to spend it with you, to which you contest that it was Sunday anyway. His response is making you change into something comfortable of his so you could laze on his couch.Â
Like you would run away if he didnât, Mingyu keeps his arms around you in a tight hold, fingers curling around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. Your head rests directly over his heart, his cheek and lips taking turns to occupy the top of your head. Â
You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks youâve spent were actually quite uneventful in hindsight. He feels up your cheek and forehead when you tell him you got sick at one point, to which you have to reassure him it was either something going around or stress that you subjected on yourself.Â
âI went to a frat party,â Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. âFor Halloween.â
The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, âYou went to a frat party?â
He snorts, âDressed up for it too.â
âOh my god,â you voice in mild horror. âDo I wanna know?âÂ
âWonwoo and I matched,â he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. âI was Mario, he was Luigi.â
âHow adorable.â
He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they arenât wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition.Â
âThing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,â he informs.Â
âThat mightâve been a little better.â
âWhatâs wrong with Mario?â he asks sharply.
âNothing. But I do hope you werenât sporting an Italian accent throughout that.âÂ
âI was,â he pushes. âA horrible one too.â
You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll.Â
âYou couldâve gone as Peach. We couldâve matched.âÂ
âI donât know if Iâd wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.â You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October.Â
âMaybe in private,â he says with an insufferable smile on his face.Â
Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. âIâm not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.âÂ
âWho?â
âYou and Wonwoo, youâre practically married.â
Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own thatâs stuck to him. âNot with whatever he has going on with his girl.â
âOh right,â you frown in remembrance. âWhat happened to not understanding how he does it?âÂ
âHm?â
âHeâs a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didnât know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.â
His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. âI may owe him an apology.â
âDo you?â
Mingyu frowns, âActually no I donât. I donât think he and his lady are doing too well right now. Heâs been insufferable lately.â
âIs it because of the TA-ing?â
âI never know with those two,â he sighs.
Thereâs silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like heâs trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you.Â
âDo youâŠknow about us?â Thereâs hesitancy in the way you ask. But you canât help but ask anyway.
Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. âI know that I want us to be concrete. That I wanna work around whatever life throws at us. You can decide what to call it, but I know Iâm in it for the long run.â
âIâm glad youâre smarter than your husband,â you smile.
He only rolls his eyes, âHeâs only good at one kind of chemistry.âÂ
âDâyou think theyâll be okay?â
âOh yeah,â he assures. âTheyâre just going through aâŠrough patch.â
âLike we did?â
âIf youâre asking me, Iâd say theyâre being a little more stupid about it.â
The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, âTheyâll be okay though.â
âI hope so. Iâd like to go on double dates with my boyfriendâs husbandâs girlfriend.â You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice.Â
âThis is getting weird,â Mingyu breathes.Â
You only hum against his mouth, âDo I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?â
âFor fuckâs sake.âÂ
Youâre both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you canât help but be conscious of how light you feel, how happy you feel with his scent infiltrating your nostrils, his presence known where his fingertips touch you.Â
âI did the sticky note thing again too,â Mingyu says into the silence, and thereâs nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again.Â
âSaid something worse this time,â he continues as you laugh into his chest. âAccept that youâll die alone or some other shit like that.âÂ
Thereâs comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary youâve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click.Â
Nose nuzzled in his cheek, the feeling of his skin so soft against yours, fingers at his chin where a slight stubble grows, you relax in ways you cannot comprehend.Â
MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling youâve grown dangerously accustomed to.Â
It isnât that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply arenât on you enough.Â
The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You werenât avoiding Mingyu this time, and you were grateful for it. It was two hours of following him with your eyes as he darted around the room. You could hardly constitute it as not paying attention when Dr. Cho was preoccupied with explaining every reason he hates JASP over SPSS, but also ultimately, hates them both.Â
You donât even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students.Â
The tutorial paper is barely looked at by you, because you know your boyfriend will be happy to help you out later at his place.Â
Youâre barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as youâre catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you.Â
Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyuâs slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you arenât escaping the iron grip heâs got on your face.Â
Somehow between it all, you manage to slip your bag off to let it drop to the floor of his doorway, shoes kicked off one after the other as he leads you inside, littering the way.Â
âYou arenât actually paying attention in class anyway,â he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. âSo why donât you sit in the back where you donât distract me.â
âWho says Iâm not paying attention.â You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead.Â
âYouâre paying attention to me.â
âIt was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.â
Heâs all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, âWas letting me take you in front of the entire class also a clause? Because if this goes on I might have to take up on that.â
If you didnât know any better you wouldâve assumed heâd been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man youâve been accustomed to. The fact that heâs whispering directly into your ears isnât helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine.Â
It lands with precision, right at your core. Youâre too hot to tell, but there isnât a doubt youâve begun to pool.Â
Thereâs a ding in the background.Â
Heâs suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether.Â
Another ding.Â
Heâs reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like heâs testing the waters.
Ding.Â
Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt.Â
His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached witâs end.Â
âGyuâŠâ you whisper.Â
âIgnore it,â he growls. The ringing has stopped.Â
He ducks underneath to kiss at your stomach, lifting your shirt oh so slowly. He goes higher, and higher and higher, leaving a trail of kisses at the skin, taking deep breaths as he drags his mouth over your torso.Â
His phone begins to ring again.Â
Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you werenât sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now.Â
He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily.Â
The ringing stops.Â
Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you canât quite make out, too preoccupied with the way your shirt is now up past your bra, at which Mingyu has taken to leaving open mouthed kisses to your cleavage.Â
Thereâs a ding.Â
âMingyu, I really thinkââ
His phone begins to ring again.Â
âOh for fuckâs sake,â he curses, rearing his head like an interrupted animal, wet mouthed and bleary eyed. He looks at his buzzing phone on the floor in an accusatory glare, like he wants to chuck it out the window and go right back to burrowing into your chest.Â
âYou should answer.âÂ
He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Choâs name on the screen. âItâs eleven Oâclock.âÂ
âIt might be important.â
âThe last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,â he grunts as he silences his phone.Â
You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyuâs hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up.Â
Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, âNooooo, Iâm gonna ignore him.â
âHeâs not going to leave you alone,â you sing quietly, running your nails across his scalp lightly, holding his head to your chest. You place your cheek on his head, playing with his ear.Â
As if to prove your point, Mingyuâs phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect.Â
âGo on.â
He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, âHello?â
His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out whatâs being said on the other line. âWhere have you been?â
âItâs nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.â
âMy flash drive wonât open up on my computer.â
You have to stifle a snort.Â
âIs itâŠplugged in?â
âOf course it is, Iâm not an idiot.â
âIs it showing up on your files?â
âDiskâŠis notâŠformatted.â
âErm, it might be corrupted.â
âHow did that happen?â
âDid you download something off the internet onto it?â
âHardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!â
Your fingers are massaging Mingyuâs temples as you feel him tense on top of you.Â
âYour attendance sheet is on the teacherâs portal,â Mingyu grits before adding, âsir.â
â...I have other things on there too.â
Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. âThis sounds like something tech support could help with.â
âWhy canât you help?â he asks sharply.Â
âIâŠI donât know how, sir.â
Thereâs a noise of indignation from the other end, and you canât help but keep from laughing.Â
Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. âIâll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And Iâll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesdayâs classes.â
The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professorâs hung up as soon as the words left Mingyuâs mouth.Â
âWow,â you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyuâs head heavier on your chest. âNot even a thank you.â
âAbsent father behaviour,â Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt.Â
Itâs a bad joke, but you laugh anyway.Â
âWill I be an asshole if I say Iâm not in the mood anymore?â he murmurs.Â
âAbsolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.â
âGross,â he comments, but heâs laughing too.Â
âShould we call it a night?â he asks, rearing his head.Â
Nodding, you rise with him. By the time youâve reached the bedroom, youâve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice.Â
âI need a shower.â
Mingyu throws you a towel and a t-shirt, which you catch and move towards the bathroom. Halfway through the door, you sneak a look at him fiddling with his belt.Â
âDo you wanna come in too?âÂ
Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. Youâve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment.Â
THE FOLLOWING DAYS WERE just as eventful as that phone call, Mingyu running around as the midterm low passed and the line creeped up towards finals season.Â
Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed.Â
You only ever saw Mingyu in the wee hours of the night at his place, where he begged you to camp out till the end of the semester so he âdoesnât move to insanityâ. It might even be better for you, going about your day as usual, without the usual added distraction of a partner.
Coming home to him was easier, where he could clear up your doubts while in ratty pyjamas and starfished across the bed, where you could find solace in Mingyuâs chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer.Â
It was a Friday night, youâre alone at Mingyuâs place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this weekâs tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head.Â
Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldnât ask him for a thing.Â
Tired was a look on Mingyu youâd gotten quite used to, so youâve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight.Â
His face is parallel to yours as he closes his eyes with a light groan in greeting. Moving forward, you kiss the flutter of his eyelids softly, down to the apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.Â
Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. âDid you finish the tutorial paper?â
You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. âNot yet. One last question and Iâm done.â
He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan heâs pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. âAlright, letâs get this over with.â
âI can figure it out myself, Gyu.â
âYou wouldâve been done by now if you could,â he answers. Itâs annoying that he says it but heâs also right.Â
Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didnât look an inch from passing out.Â
He mumbles the question as he reads, âItâs nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and youâre done.â
The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table.Â
âDid you get everything else?â he asks in earnest.Â
âHm? I think so.âÂ
âGood.â And then heâs throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly.Â
Heâs in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throatâclean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but itâs only natural your mind cooks up other ways to translate your helplessness as you watch your boyfriend push himself to the brink. Release is never a bad idea.Â
Besides, itâs a Friday night. No reason to not.Â
âGyu,â you shuffle closer.Â
Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, âYeah?âÂ
You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. âDâyou thinkâŠdâyou think you can go over post hoc tests again?â
âPost hoc?â He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. Itâs an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in.Â
Not that you care what he thinks right now, heâd figure out why you were asking anyway.Â
âPost hoc, um,â he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory.Â
Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it.Â
âAnalysis tool after youâve already run the data,â he begins.Â
Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear.Â
âResults have to beâŠthey have to beâŠâ He falters when your hand reaches his front, running across the expanse of his clothes stomach, nails digging ever so slightly as you reach his abdomen. You continue to place open mouthed kisses at the space of neck you can reach.Â
âHm? Has to be what?â
âStatistically significant,â he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. âTo run a post hoc test.â
His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something youâre both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. âResults of what, baby?â
âFor the love ofââ
âGo on,â you whisper in his ear. âPlease.â
One flick and his trousers are unbutton, pulling them aside as the zipper pulls open. You're pushing down his boxers when he answers you. âANOVA.âÂ
âWhatâs that again?â
âYou little shit.â
You move your mouth forward to kiss him.
âAnalysis of variance.âÂ
You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, thatâs all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length.Â
âWhatâs it for though? We already got our results.â Bending forward, you stick your tongue to kitten lick at his tip. Mingyu hisses, hips shifting. Your tongue swirls around the tip, pushing into the skin on the head where heâs most sensitive.Â
âUgh, fuck, for um,â he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks.Â
âForâŠforâŠâ His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach.Â
Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. âFor? Keep talking, baby.â
âForâŠTo identify groups,â he grunts out. He lets out a louder moan when you place your mouth back on him, going past his tip and taking as much as you can of him into your mouth. âIdentifyâŠthe differences, shit, hmph.â
He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, âIdentify which groups actually differ, oh my god.â
The bit of him that you canât fit on your mouth is being pumped by your hands, fingers pushing into him like you were trying to indent them on the base of his cock. A glance upwards and you find his head thrown back, hands coming to tangle in your hair. His thumb caresses the side of your cheek.
âHow many groups?â you ask, before diving back in.Â
âThree,â he chokes out. âThree or more, oh Iâm gonna cum, fuck donât stop, holy shit.â
Both of his hands are at your head, guiding you as you suck him harder, faster, more tongue digging into his slit. You hum against his dick on purpose, making sure itâs coarse enough to get the reaction you want.Â
You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan youâve ever heard, his grip on your strands harder than ever. He cums into your mouth, hips stuttering as you place your entire weight on him to keep him in place.Â
You let some of it dribble out your mouth and back over his softening dick like a hot coating, sucking him through shooting spurts of cum that land on your tongue.Â
When you emerge from underneath, Mingyu looks like he got the soul sucked out of him; eyes closed, stuttered breaths raking through his entire body, a light sheen of the beginnings of sweat that glisten in the low light of the room.Â
Reaching for the tissue box and water bottle on the table, you soak the napkins and bring them to clean him up. He whines when the cold tissues touch him where heâs most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth.Â
You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyuâs hoarse protests. Heâs almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time youâve hauled his tired ass into bed, youâre just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you.Â
Mingyuâs face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him.Â
âI might love you,â he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear.Â
You hide the way your heart absolutely leaps, conceal the way your hands tighten around his form into an affectionate caress, hold your breath to prevent the inevitable hitch.Â
I might love you too.Â
You hide that as well. For now.Â
Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.
âFeel free.â
[Mingyu]: class ended earlyÂ
[Mingyu]: be there in 5Â
[You]: ???
[You]: wdym ended early
[You]: kim did u end class early to come home
Your response comes in the form of the front door lock jiggling loudly. Youâd stayed the night at his place, knowing you didnât have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics.Â
Heâd left you in bed with a kiss, needing to be extra early since Dr. Cho decided to dump the last crucial few weeks leading up to finals season entirely on his TA. As much as there was on Mingyuâs already overflowing plate now, you couldnât deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not.Â
A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyuâs pretty eyes might be enough for anyone to have mercy and let the supposed mistake slide.
As Mingyu walks into the room, shoes flying and back dumped on the floor, he finds you still half clothed with leftover sleep in your eyes, standing in the middle of the living space like you were lost.Â
He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. âYouâre getting too comfortable with this job.â
âAm I?â
âYes.â
âCanât possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.â
You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. âHowâs the congestion?â
âBad,â you respond nasally. âI canât find my Afrin.â
âItâs on the bedside table, baby.â
âNo, itâs not.â
Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.
âIâm not awake enough to navigate,â you sniff.
âIâve got you,â he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly.Â
The back of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back into the unmade sheets. You crawl back under the covers as Mingyu navigates between used tissues, water bottles and pills on the bedside table. But no sign of your nasal spray.Â
You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. âTold you.â
Mingyu bends down and emerges with a familiar red capped bottle. He stares at you while you stare at it, choosing to simply snatch it from his presenting hands and be done with it.Â
âGood thing I came back early, hm?âÂ
âShut up.â
He leaps over your form to claim the spot in bed right next to you, still fully clothed as he burrows under the covers next to you.
Thereâs nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriendâs eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that.Â
âAre you gonna keep doing this till finals?â you ask throatily, shifting under the covers.Â
âTeaching during class time is just extended office hours, Iâm gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. OrâŠonce more if I feel it.â
âDidnât you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?âÂ
Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets.Â
It seems throughout the course of your relationship, your time with Mingyu is either spent laying down or in the process of doing so. Not that you mind, youâve found that remaining horizontal was what worked best for someone like Mingyu who seemed to want to fuse with your very being whenever you were together.
âUgh, not this week. Do not have the patience.â
âIâm proud of you,â you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland.Â
âThank you, I do think Iâve been very brave.â Even while slipping into dreamland, you find the good sense to find his nipple through his sweater and give it a hard pinch. He jerks away in a yelp, clutching his chest.Â
âWhatâs that for?!â
You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. âYouâve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. Iâm proud of you.â
Youâre too far gone to make out what he answers you with, but with the hot breath against your already warm forehead, you decide it's more than enough for you.Â
MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round heâs smart enough to not tell you.Â
Itâs the Friday before finals week officially begins, and you remain in your own place for once to crack down on the last bits of syllabus you want to go over, away from your extremely distracting boyfriend.Â
Thereâs a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification.Â
Itâs Wonwooâs (actual) girlfriend, and sheâs sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwooâs living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions.Â
Itâs a pillow fort.
Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husbandâs living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while heâs actively meant to be available for office hours.
You want to laugh. The man that stayed up multiple nights to answer stupid questions in emails, is now less than concerned about the pandemonium that is probably ensuing in the department building. It isnât that youâre upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer heâd time them a little better.Â
Inevitably, you text him, but not before sending an encouraging text to your girlfriend-in-law for putting up with the both of them all by herself.Â
[You]: where are you
[Mingyu]: where im meant to be?
[You]: office hours?
[Mingyu]: mhm
[You]: are u and ur husband conducting them under a pillow fort in his house
You imagine him sending Wonwooâs girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction.Â
[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME
You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you wonât be tempted to look.Â
Besides, it wasnât long before there was an incessant banging at your door that you ended up needing to get up to open. He looks so timid, the face of an innocent perpetrator that waltzes into your space.Â
âIâm sorry,â he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling.Â
âWhatever for?â
âFor lying.âÂ
You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, âMight wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.â
Mingyuâs head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. âGod.â
âHim too.â
In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where youâre sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown.Â
âRumour has it,â he starts.Â
You make a face. âNow youâve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.â
He ignores you valiantly as his mouth drops lower, down to the beginnings of the tips of your ears. You can smell him. He smells good.Â
âThat a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.â
Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming.Â
âTake a hike, Kim.â
â...Sorry.â
NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone.Â
Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest itâs been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you.Â
The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes.Â
âWell?â he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth.Â
You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns.Â
âFor the record I didnât want some of the questions on there,â he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. âHard ones werenât mine. I promise Iâm not a sadist.â
Then, in an un-CCTVâd corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds youâve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss.Â
In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge youâd gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you.Â
Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. Thereâs a smile on your face. âIt went great.â
A strong tug against your waist and youâre suddenly pressed into Mingyuâs all too familiar hold, so everloving tight you can hardly breathe. His lips are smacking and pressing into your skin, all over your face, neck and hands. Anywhere he could possibly reach.Â
There wasnât much he could do standing in a huddled corner at nine in the morning on a Tuesday, where anyone could pass by and question what in the high school was going on. But there was more than enough Mingyu could do behind closed doors.Â
In true Mingyu fashion, heâs begun to grope in every way you love the minute the lock clicks shut of his apartment, every fibre of both of your beings giddy and jumpy, giggles erupting from your tired mouths. You havenât been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time.Â
It isnât remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyuâs hands havenât been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed.Â
He says it was your reward, for doing so good, his illustrious mouth suctioned onto your naked core, moving and grinding in ways you can more than just appreciate.
His tongue is nothing below made for you, like he knows exactly when to flick his tongue, graze his teeth and all but suck the daylights out of you. Itâs marvellous, even more so as you realise he wonât stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop.Â
Not that he was going to listen, as he did not the last fifteen times you tried, simply pushing a finger into your abused hole to chuck you into yet another climax. Youâre sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him.Â
By the time heâs relented, youâre sure you wonât feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long.Â
But as youâre finally able to catch your long lost breath in bed, and Mingyu has curled up right beside you, like he always does, you let the finality of it all sink in. You were done. And so was he. And you could now begin to experience a Mingyu that wasnât exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man.Â
Mingyu was beautiful either way.Â
âAre you okay?â he asks you, his fingers tracing your features.Â
The pads of his fingers glide across your eyelids, down the slope of your nose, tracing the outline of your lips. You kiss his fingers as they reach you there, hand coming up to hold his wrists. You kiss the tips of his fingers, down to the palm of his hand. Eyes closed, you keep your lips there.Â
âMore than okay,â you mumble.Â
âGood. Thought I lost you there.â
Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. âYouâre not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devilâs module.â
âIs that all it takes? Make sure you donât fail?â
âAnd give head like that.â Itâs a half joke. âBut also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.â
He mimics you between a breathy laugh, âComma TA. Not anymore, I guess.â
âHow happy are you?â
âStill have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.â
âThe recommendation? You deserve it.â
âThat, and not having to be in Dr. Choâs presence every other day. And you.â
You kiss his shoulder. âLook at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.â
âNot just yet.â
âYouâll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.â
Mingyu shifts where he lays, taking a turn to lie on his side to face you. The afternoon sun peeks from behind his form, his outline made of pure gold. His breath is in your face as he talks, and thereâs comfort in the air it penetrates.
âI only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.â Heâs smiling.Â
âGirlfriend duties,â you quote solemnly.Â
âI mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didnât wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.â
You cup his face and pout, âOh, my damsel in distress.â
âHm, my knight in shining armour,â he giggles. âGalloped in and saved me from myself.â
âYou saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.âÂ
âIâll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.âÂ
You can only grumble in mild annoyance.Â
âIâm glad I asked you to come in early that day,â he says.
âIâm glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.â You grin.
Mingyu leans in and kisses you. Itâs soft, slow, and drips of the romance heâs trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss.Â
Itâs almost scary how easily youâve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly heâs placed himself in every nook and cranny of your heart. With his tired eyes and stronger than himself smile, the hand he extended in ways beyond you could ever explain to him. Itâs terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting.Â
But itâs true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyuâs limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know.Â
âI think I might love you too.âÂ
#svthub#camandemstudios#mingyu fluff#mingyu angst#mingyu smut#mingyu fic#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#mingyu x reader#mingyu#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen smut#seventeen fic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen#svt fluff#svt angst#svt smut#svt x reader#svt#em.writes#seventeen fic recs#mingyu fic recs
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New Camera đ„
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
warnings: SMUUUUUTTT NSFW 18+ (umm lots. use of camera/recording, dom matt, degrading, slapping, language, daddy kink, slight choking, unprotected, creampie, j very rough)
authors note: so this won the vote for which yâall wanted first! ask and u shall receive! this one is FILTHY AND KINKY so if thatâs not ur vibe, uve been warnedâŠalso side note, i feel like this goes without saying but, i write mostly unprotected⊠guys pls donât actually do that. wrap it before u tap it𫶠ok luv u!! enjoy!!
summary: your boyfriend matt gets a new camera before going on tour and decides to experiment with it on youâŠ
word count: 2,270 w
~you look good on camera baby letâs go make a film~
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
your phone buzzed on your desk.
âbe over in 10 babe â€ïžâ read a message from matt. you went back to fixing your makeup in the mirror, wanting to look your best for your boyfriends last night home. Matt was about to leave to go on tour tomorrow and it would be a month and a half before you got to see him again. even though you were excited for him, you wanted to make sure it was extra hard for him to leave you. after swiping on some lip gloss, you rummaged through your closet and landed on a thin white tank and flannel shorts. comfy, but still cute and showed just the right amount of skin to hopefully get his attention. your doorbell rang and you ran to answer it.
âhi, beautifulâ matt said, pulling you in for a kiss.
âhiâ you said smiling at him, the chill from outside hitting your mostly bare skin. he closed the door and walked in. his eyes gave you a once over as he took off his coat.
âyou look hotâ he smirked
âoh yeah?â you replied coyly, turning to head back down the hall.
âyeah. some shortsâ he chuckled out, blatantly checking out your ass.
âwhat these?â you teased, bending over slightly
âdonât start with me, y/nâ matt came up behind you and slapped your ass, playfully but hard. the two of you walked to your room and you flopped on your bed, reaching for the remote to your tv. matt followed and unzipped his backpack, rummaging through it and pulling out a box.
âwhatcha got there?â
âbought a new vlog camera for tour!â he answered, excitedly
âwanna see?â he sat down next to you, showing off the new device.
âoooo fancyâ you knew nothing about cameras, but pretended to be impressed since matt was so enthusiastic. his fingers whizzed around the buttons.
âitâs got awesome quality and itâs so easy to useâ he continued, the machine chirped as he hit the red button and pointed it at your face.
âmattttâ you whined, covering your face with your hands.
âwhat are you being camera shy?â he snickered, standing above you continuing to point the lens at you.
âcmon show me that gorgeous face of yours babyâ you huffed, dramatically and lowered your hands looking up at him.
âthatâs my pretty girlâ he cooed, making a smile toy at the corners of your mouth. you could never say no to him. his eyes flicked over you behind the camera and you tried to read what he was thinking. he licked his lips and backed up, silently, getting a wider view of you in frame. you stayed put on the bed.
âtake your top offâ he stated, flatly.
âmatt-whatâ?â you nervously laughed out
âdid i say it was a question? take your top offâ something about the harshness of his tone was so out of character it made your heart race. you reached for the hem of your tank and began to lift it.
âdamn, babyâ matt growled out, lowering the camera to capture your exposed tits. you breathed heavily, unable to bring yourself to move from your perched position on the edge of your bed. your eyes followed as his hands lowered the camera even further to where you had your hands in your lap.
ânow your shortsâ
âbutâmattâim not wearing any underwearâ you stuttered.
âand?â
âwell youâre filming i mean iââ
âif youâre gonna be a little slut and not wear your panties then i get to treat you like a little slut. strip.â he interrupted, gruffly. you couldnât help but notice how insanely hot he sounded being so demanding, and hoped he wouldnât be able to see your already obvious wetness. you reached for your waistband, standing, never taking your eyes off him as you began to lower your shorts to the floor. you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. nervousness spread goosebumps across your skin as you became aware of how completely exposed you were to matt and his camera. this was unlike anything youâd ever done before.
âgood girlâ matt praised, dryly.
âyou wanna give me a better view of that pretty little ass of yours and bend over the bed for me?â you felt as vulnerable to mattâs commands as the machine in his hands. you slowly turned half way and rested your hands on your bed, lifting your ass into better view for him.
âfuckâ he exhaled. you could feel him move closer behind you. he brought a hand sharply down against your flesh. you whimpered.
âso sexyâ he growled.
âgot me so hard just looking at you babyâ you turned your head back to look at him. he laughed, sinisterly.
âwhat? you wanna see what youâre doing to me, slut? huh?â
you nodded, dumbly. he snickered again.
âcourse you do. get on your knees for me.â he demanded. you followed every order like a well trained dog. you settled down by his feet and looked back up at him, as he readjusted the lens again.
âmmmm you look so perfect from this angle, babygirlâ he praised stroking your face gently, before slapping his hand against your cheek just enough to sting a bit. your jaw dropped slightly in surprise, which matt took as an opportunity to slid his thumb into your mouth. you sucked at his digit and he groaned, watching you before sliding it back out of your mouth creating a popping sound.
âtake off my pantsâ he commanded. you eagerly fumbled with his belt and zipper, hooking your fingers around the waste and and pulling slowly. his already rock hard dick sprung out and slapped his t shirt. your mouth almost watered in desperation at the sight of his veiny, practically throbbing, member.
âopen your mouth, babyâ he exhaled. you looked up into the camera, doe eyed and parted your lips with your tongue out slightly. he pumped himself with his free hand, the tip of his dick just grazing your lips and tongue and then began to slowly insert himself into your warm wet mouth. he ran his hand down your head, petting your hair, soothingly, as you took him all the way down the back of your throat. fighting the urge to gag at his size.
âsuch a good girlâ matt groaned. his pets reached the base of your skull, then latched harshly into your hair. his grip was tight, as he began to thrust into your mouth. you felt tears form at the corner of your eyes as he forcefully fucked your throat. matt let his grasp on your hair go and slid himself out of your mouth. he grabbed your jaw and forced you to turn your messy face to him, getting a clear shot of the streaks of tears on your cheeks and spit running down your chin.
âget on your hands and knees. i need to feel that pretty little pussy of yoursâ he huffed, patting your face again. you scrambled to the bed, desperate to feel him fill you up. youâd never felt so much heat screaming from between your legs in your life. you arched your back, letting matt have perfect access to your dripping folds. matt dragged a finger down them, teasing you and eliciting a loud whine from your lips.
âsoaking for me already huh, slut?â he mocked. all you could do in response was whimper.
âso pathetic for meâ he taunted, pressing two fingers against your entrance.
âmattâpleaseââ you breathed out in agony
âcamera canât hear you, baby. be a good little slut and beg louder for me.â
âMattâfuckâ-pleaseâi need your dick nowââ you cried out, the need for contact almost eating away at your brain. you screamed as matt rammed into you, entirely, and without warning. the unprepared sensation of stretch caused a pleasurable pain to radiant through you. he groaned, finally feeling your wet pussy around his torturously hard dick. he began to relentlessly pound into you from behind, filling the room with deafening slapping sounds intermixed with your screams and his grunts.
âMATTââ you cried out, overwhelmed by his intensity, collapsing your face into the pillows beneath you.
âwhat? â he wrapped his free hand around a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back up.
âdonât act like you canât handle my cock now, slut.â he snarled, not letting up on his unwavering rhythm in and out of your core. he slapped your ass again.
âunderstand?â
âyes mattâ you wheezed. he slapped your ass again.
âyes, who?â
âfuckkâyes, daddyâ you sobbed out
âgood girlâ his thrusts hit your g spot each time, making your legs shake and stars form against your tightly squeezed eyelids.
âyou wanna show me how much you love my cock, princess?â
âyes, daddyâ you hardly could think straight
âbounce that perfect ass on my cock, babyâ he said, slowing his thrusts. you obeyed and began to rock your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his dick.
âgood girl. doing such a good jobâ he sang out, one hand gripping your flesh while the other captured your movement on film. you whimpered again, your hips stuttering.
âyou tired, princess?â you nodded and let out another pathetic sound.
âneed daddy to take over again?â
âyesâoh fuckâplease daddy-â you managed to mumble out. Matt pulled out of you abruptly, causing you to whine at the loss. you couldnât move anymore, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop fucking you. he slapped your ass again
âturn overâ he growled
âi wanna see your pretty face when i cum in your pussyâ you felt like you could cum from his filthy requests alone. youâd barely even landed on you back before matt slammed back into your throbbing entrance. he struggled to keep his balance momentarily, too desperate to feel you around him again. he kept one hand supporting himself upright and the other still holding the camera, pointed at you as his picked back up his steady thrusts.
âso perfectâlook ss-so goodâwith my cock stuffed inside your little pussyâ he huffed out between thrusts
âOHâfuckâyesâyour cock feels so good, daddyâ you moaned out, helplessly. your eyes rolling back into your head. mattâs free hand wrapped around your throat, constricting your breathing perfectly.
âwatch me while i fuck you, slutâ he growled.
âyes, daddyâ you wheezed out against his tight grip. he removed his hand and you gasped for air. within moments of his dick pounding perfectly back against your sweet spot, you felt your orgasm begin to crest.
âFUCKâIMââ you panted.
âthatâs itâgood girlâcum all over daddyâs cockâ he ordered. your walls clenched and throbbed around him uncontrollably, causing him to let out a string of curse words. you felt his dick begin to twitch deep inside you.
âohh-hh-fuckâshitâ he stuttered out, his thrusts becoming wilder and less expertise.
âmmmâcloseââ he groaned, his jaw dropping slightly.
âmmmm fuck yeah cum inside me, daddyâ you whined out, your high still settling.
âshit yeah baby? you want me to fill your little pussy?â
your brows knotted and your nodded your head desperately.
âfuck iâll fill you upâso full of cumâbaby youâll lookâ-so perfectâspilling out of youâ he huffed
âOH FUCK FUCK BABY IM GONNA CUMâ he cried out as his whole body shook. he thrust deep into you one last time, halting as his cock spasmed against your walls. releasing a multitude of spurts of his hot white load. once matt seemed to regain his senses, he clicked the red button againâending his taping. he pulled out of you slowly, making your legs shake. he glanced down at your trembling sensitive entrance leaking his release in pulses and bit his lip in a satisfied smirk, snapping one last photo of the mess heâd made of you.
âMATT!â you laughed out in embarrassment, shutting your legs and rolling onto your side.
âsorryâŠi had to. too hot not saveâ he said, smiling and flopping down next to you.
âare you okay? was that too much?â he asked, pushing your hair out of your face.
âno way. i loved thatâ
âyou swear i wasnât too rough with you?â he said with worry. you shook your head vigorously
ânot at ALL! that was HOTâ you replied through a smile. he fought a grin, biting his lip clearly extremely pleased at your enthusiasm.
âso can i ask what inspired the camera?â you questioned.
âwell, now on tour i can reminisce what itâs like to fuck my crazy hot girlfriendâ he smiled at the ceiling.
âhey!â you slapped his chest playfully âyou know you can always facetime me and we cannnnnâ you dragged your words out, looking off into the distance above his face in teasing suggestion.
âoh donât you worry, weâll have phone sex all the time. this is just for when you canât call me and i need toâŠyâknowâ he glanced down at his crotch.
âjesus, how many times are you planning on jerking offâ you teased
âtwice a day. minimum.â he matter of factly stated, grinning again.
âMATTHEW!â you scoffed out in shock
âWhat? not my fault youâre so sexyâ he laughed, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips.
âyeah yeah whatever. just NEVER show that to anyoneâ
âare you kidding me? you think iâd ever let anyone else get a look at you like that? nhhuhh nope.â he shook his head dramatically
âonly i get to see how perfect you look getting your brains fucked outâ he leaned in, kissing you playfully again. you giggled, feeling a slight blush.
âi love you, you freakâ you said against his lips.
âi love you more, babyâ
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
ok yâall were on to something with wanting this one cause WHY DO I LOVE IT?? rly hope everyone likes it ahhh đ«¶đ«¶
also guys imagine matt accidentally posting the wrong video and posts ur tape instead of a car video?? HAHA
#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x yn#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#smut#sturniolo#fanfic smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo smutt#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut
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Starting My Sagau Writing Journey
Ok Im wanting to dip my toes into the Sagau writing scene and I wanted to put out about 3 ideas I have and plan on writing. Each idea will be outlined below and people are welcome to take inspiration off of them just make sure to tag me in the writing. There will also be a poll at the end where you can vote for which one you want to see first. When I finish writing each chapter they will be put up on AO3.Â
Shimeji AU:Â
For those who don't know, Shimeji is a browser extension that spawns a chibi version of a character onto your browser. This character can then move around and climb on the borders of your web page and just be a cute little distraction (I know this might sound like malware but its not I've had a Venti and a Lumine Shimegi for a while now and haven't experienced anything that can imply they are malware)Â
This would be more of a drabble and less of a full fic.Â
Basically the characters in genshin become aware through their Shimeji and then begin acting up in your browser when you're out of the game (when you're in game you're fine).
If you leave your web browser opened when you leave your computer you will come back to it being on a weird pageÂ
Like Venti looking at a wine websiteÂ
Diluc somehow ending up on a streaming service watching BatmanÂ
Yae Miko finding your writingÂ
I'll likely start off with characters from Mondstadt and go down the list for each region.
Kidnapped by the Harbingers (not the final title):Â
Exactly as it sounds, in the middle of the night you are taken from your college dorm (or room I likely won't specify) to Teyvat after the harbingers find a way into our world.Â
Haven't decided which harbinger will be sent (leaning towards Childe because I feel like it would fit best and he'd be down for that type of experiment).Â
Most of it will take place in a separate castle from Zapolyarny Palace.Â
If you want to know my specific location I have in mind their is a visual novel called Dottore And The Spy where you become Dottores apprentice (highly suggest this visual novel) but its main story takes place in a castle in the middle of a frozen wasteland away from civilization where both Pantalon and Dottore live. This will be the main location for the story.Â
I'll also be adding in Capitano as another permanent resident of this castle because I want to write about a big strong man who is the emotional intelligence of the three main harbingers present.Â
The other harbingers and the Tsaritsa will appear but they will be much more understated in their role.
I want this fanfic to go into the mental load that being locked away from the world has on a person's psyche.
Readers' powers will slowly awaken, making it harder for the Harbingers to keep us a secret from Teyvat and specifically Celestia.
This won't be a full blown yandere fic with the harbingers, they will be slightly possessive but it is more about your safety since Celestia doesn't like you.Â
Celestia will be the ultimate enemy over all but the story will not be focused on shooting down Celestia from the sky as readers powers will not ever reach the strength needed to face Celestia alone.Â
Harbingers plan will not have changed; they are still working to take down Celestia.  Â
This will be taking place after Sumeru (so no Scara or La Signora and their will be less clones)
The story will also includeÂ
Getting to know and bond with your castle staff like maids or ladies in waiting (I know these are typically only given to female presenting reader but I want to write about gossip and forming friendships so this is what I'm going with)Â
Quality time with each harbinger
Impressing Dottore with your basic levels of knowledge on Astronomy (since Teyvats sky is fake)
Eventually a runaway arch
Lots of tears and mental breakdowns, but donât worry there will be comfort as well
ShenanigansÂ
Possibly NSFW after reader finally convinces everyone to stop calling them âyour graceâ
To Make a Haven (Title might change):
Imposter (but reader is the real deal) AU
Reader gets killed once by a mob of NPCsÂ
I want it specifically to be NPCs so the reader still has emotional attachment to the playable characters
Reader seeks out a safe and secluded place Â
Teyvat awakens to readers distress and opens up a hidden area of the map to the reader that can only be accessed through very specific means.Â
Reader eventually starts bringing in Hilichurls to what for now im going to be calling âthe GroveâÂ
Reader will begin messing around and experimenting with her powers and finds a way to somewhat heal the hilichurlsÂ
This isn't a full fix it will be like layering a curse on top of a curse in order to negate some of the effects of the original curse
The hilicurls will not return to being human they will become something else (human like but not human)Â
This fic will contain way more original charactersÂ
Reader will be more spiteful in this fic but less in like a âmake everyone sufferâ way and more like âlets shake up the system and make everything more challenging for people because they tried to kill meâÂ
This fic will span over a larger span of time in world with the reader building a full city in the hidden area Teyvat made for them.
Well those are my three ideas! after this poll is done I'm hoping to get the first chapter out with that week, but I'm a college student and it been a while since I have written fanfiction so i make no promises.
#sagau#genshin sagau#fatui sagau#fatui harbingers#fatui x reader#genshin impact fatui#self aware genshin#sagau x reader#sagau cult au#genshin impact sagau#sagau impostor au#yandere sagau
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Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 2
Propaganda:
Kyouya -
"what's there to say? you know him. you love him. vote kyoya."
Rinnosuke -
"Rinnosuke Morichika lives in an overly-cluttered curio shop, and has a special interest in making magical inventions. Since he doesnât live in a modern settingâ but a pocket dimension slightly disconnected to the outside worldâ whenever a modern item shows up in his shop via spiriting away, he can obsess over it for extended periods of time. He is quite blunt without realizing it, even to people he cares for. He also has a special ability to generally understand the name and use of any item he touches (though this backfires sometimes, he thought a Gameboy was a doomsday device once)."
Fuuta -
"okay look theres so many fucking signs hes autistic. he cannot tell tone and often doesn't know how to react to stuff which is a major point in his character id say. he was asked if he remembered his victim's name (hes a murderer. oops!) and his response was something along the lines of "Of course I do. I saw it everywhere." because he did not understand that they wanted to know what it was since it wasnt directly stated. im convinced that hoodies are a comfort object of his because i genuinely have not seen him without one except for one time. also hes canonically a chronically online twitter user. also he gets really passionate about his interests. also not really related but everyone in the fandom agrees hes transgender but no one can agree on what way. ive seen every single gender hc for this dude. vote kajiyama fuuta for this sopping wet poor little meow meow of a man."
Hansum -
"He's just a very odd and strange lad, can't remember names well, is an alien (mild spoiler), he's very popular, obsessed with Doritos and becomes their mascot, just refers to everyone as humans which is a mood, and is completely socially oblivious."
Miyuki -
"Relatable neurodivergent-Gifted Child syndromeTM case with all the superiority-inferiority complex that results. A chronic show-off and scheming strategist with a lowkey hopeless romantic dramatic aspect to him, silly cool and pathetic in a very hilarious way. Shirogane has a trademark glare purely thanks to his eyebags as he runs on coffee everyday having to support his family with multiple jobs in addition to class, on top of student council president duties. He's kind and an obsessive perfectionist who fills his entire wall with the weirdest motivational posters. Shirogane is very devoted to his love. He likes penguins (Kaguya and him is peak asd4asd and bi4bi btw)."
Kirito -
"He's autistic and bisexual as hell, and there's a good bit of trans coding in him đ„ș
Autism coding: Bro's literally got a sword and swordfighting hyperfixation where, despite playing a game that focuses around guns, he still chooses to use a sword!! We also see him completely missing Asuna's flirting at first (he tells her she could have just checked her friendlist to make sure he was alive, in response to her tracking him down to see him)
Bi coding: Dual wielding swords is literally a euphemism in Japan for bisexuality; and Kirito initially tries to hide the fact he can dual wield out of fear of how the people he's close to will view him (and once he reveals it to them and they accept it, he begins to be more open about it.) Also in the Underworld arc he becomes very close with Eugeo to the point of living with him (and sharing a bed on occasion), and there are several parallels between Eugeo and Asuna, and they're so gay for each other that despite the anime having only a toned down version of it, they're still very affectionate (Also of note is that Eugeo is the only guy in SAO canon to consistently have a 'laying in bed with Kirito' talk CG in the spinoff games) (There's more but it's spoilers and this is a shortened version)
Trans coding: Kirito is very trans coded in the light novel (which shows Kirito's thoughts in much greater detail than the anime) Aincrad arc reveals that Kirito explicitly Does Not Like his real face, and dislikes how feminine it looks (he mentions that its led to him and his cousin being mistaken for sisters) And in Phantom Bullet arc, he's visibly uncomfortable at being mistaken for a girl due to his avatar's appearance, and in response to being misgendered he briefly panics and checks to make sure his chest flat (at least in the anime adaptation) đłïžââ§ïž"
Shirou -
"Has one goal in life and ignores almost everything in favor of trying to fulfil that goal."
Keith -
"Speaks in a way that is seen as weird and has mannerisms others think is funny. He struggles with not being taken seriously by others because of this and many of the things others say goes over his head. He struggles to connect with other people because of these things. His entire arc in the second film is about him deciding that the people who don't accept him for who he is aren't worth it and that he's going to continue being himself."
Junpei -
"for other fans of this series, I know the more obvious representation here may be Luou, Junpei is So Good. his special interest is ballet and he has so many hangups involving how his family sees him and how other boys his age interpret him to the point that his idea of masculinity is extremely narrow and he enforces social rules on himself to mask and keep people from realizing that he loves something that Isn't Manly. he misinterprets social cues and takes things literally, like assuming that when Miyako asked him to dance with her she meant Right This Minute rather than as a pair in the studio. for some reason the point where he cuts his hair super short to prove his devotion to ballet is also sticking with me, I think maybe it's the combination of the way it's normal for boys/men in Japan to do that, yet Junpei didn't realize that kind of attitude/action didn't suit ballet at all? he wasn't aware that the context was completely different. Junpei also doesn't act or pretend very well, he's gotta put his whole entire ass into his roles, which he then proceeds to get TOO into and cause a lot of trouble, without giving too much away! he's really relatable to me as someone who's socially anxious but very skilled at masking, and seeing him become more comfortable with himself and start to show how he really feels is so inspiring to me."
Kazuma -
"He may be (wildly) misguided but his intentions are good kinda! Heâs just the Guy of all time idk how to explain it."
#autistic anime boys poll#tumblr polls#prelims#kyouya ootori#ouran high school host club#rinnosuke morichika#touhou project#fuuta kajiyama#milgram#hansum ochinchin#not so shoujo love story#miyuki shirogane#kaguya-sama: love is war#kazuto kirigaya#kirito#sword art online#shirou emiya#fate/stay night#keith goodman#tiger & bunny#junpei murao#dance dance danseur#kazuma asogi#the great ace attorney
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Im scared of trump getting elected and im scared of project 2025.
I know he said hes not affiliated or whatever the fuck but i dont believe that
My mom works in state department so i thoight it wouldn't effect me terribly until i moved back in 4 years for college. But i found this pdf of the action plan and there is an entire section 29 pages long on the department of state. They think that its too woke but thats honestly because you have to well educated and cultured to work in state seeing as you are constantly learning and experiencing culture and differences. So they want to hand pick political appointees and add more positions for them to align with views.
They also say the state department doesn't focus on immigration as much as the should but that is one sub department of a sub department of the state department???? They also said that visa are used too much as 'international welfare' instead of a tool to better the US??? Like what?? They want us to start using visas as weapons. My dad accepts and denies visas as well so i know a bit about the process and its bullshit. In the countries I've lived in going to the US gives so much opportunity and they were saying that if a country refuses to accept someone from their country back after say commiting a crime in the US then we should withold possibly all kinds of visas (immagrant and tourist visas. And saying all implies also banning politicians, leaders of the country, DIPLOMATS). Thats fucking insane. Also saying that a country should recripricate not only visas but favorable visas or we shouldnt give visas either. Wtf.
And then people who are open about being left, democratic, 'woke' etc. Could also be fired. Luckily my mom has tenure so it would be very hard to prove reasonable cause.
And the education. I've heard on the extreme end he wants to make all schools private. The problem with this is that i go to expensive international schools that i wouldn't be able to afford because the government pays for it because i would have access to free education in the US so they have to make sure i have free education in a language i can speak. So if all schools went private (unlikely ik but lets prepare for the absolute worst) would they stop paying?? Probably and if they do i have to move back to the US. Which not being in the US is the only thing that makes me feel even a bit safe at the possibility of him being elected.
Then of course there is the fact im openly queer, and im female. Those are the two major things im scared about that come off the top of my head. Im also worried about my friends whos parents are also in state and who also would not be able to afford the tuition so they would have to move back.
Im scared and i dont know what to do bc i have this feeling that if he gets elected he'll try to stay or we'll just keep getting presidents like him. People are burning ballot boxes. The amount of trump supporters is so overwhelming. Ik its because theyre loud but im still scared. Im terrified. And i feel like im being dramatic but im so so scared
Hi!
I have to be honest, I'm nervous, too. I think the important thing to recognize is this election affects EVERYONE in the US. Right now, try to focus on encouraging people to vote and not panicking. We don't know what will happen yet, and even on election day, things will change and change again. take deep breaths, stick around safe people, and wait until things are OFFICIALLY called before reacting. <3
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SMG4: TRASH FRIENDS
I KNOW IM ON BREAK BUT I HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS!
the cafe isnt looking so hot this episode makes you wonder what happen
im sorry did they just learn they could do this fklfkjlsd i know when they looked into their past they had the old memes do it but SMG4 just causally shared his memory with Three like how and when did they learn this was a thing they could do!
bet if you told your past self this is a thing they would think your crazy
mario may be their avatar but they cant do everything he does
nerd i love you and your need to roast your friend at random ass times.
my lord there is a in universe version of the series run everyone run!
his cafe is failing something he was proud of cause it made him feel like he found his place in the world after years of chasing SMG4 shadow is now failing the old demons are loud again and he is starting to yet again feel like a poor copy of SMG4. We know that Four doesn't think this but he is also the worse at reading people and cant pick up that SMG3 mental state is cracking as he feels himself slipping into the shadow being forgotten
color theory of mine is shining hard this episode when you focus on these two text colors are going. Given that SMG3 repeated a line SMG4 used in SMG4...are you okay? the start of its gotta be perfect movie story line i wonder if Three is gonna go through something similar its sorta reminding me of my fic next step which has Three facing his demons on what he did to four but in the series it seems its him facing the fear of being forgotten because SMG4 has always been popular memewarts trained Three he will always be in the shadow and that lesson is still there
SMG3 breaks down his true face is shown as seen by the color change he doesnt want to be forgotten and is taken by surprise with how mario reacted he isnt sure why he couldnt be open and talk about his feelings maybe because in the past no one cared to listen till now. Makes me wonder if this how adware could get Three if we got the bad ending could this feeling of being forgotten turn him to the dark side once again maybe lost to it forever? But this timeline we got the good ending so could this be a path to save Three maybe we will be tricked into thinking this is how adware gets him but remembering he has people that listen to his true feelings and know and love him for who he is will give him the power to push back the adware?
i mean damn Four i feel that you act like that way more then SMG3 personal thoughts
its out in the open his feelings and now four knows hopefully with this out in the open the can talk and work on how to move forward this change in SMG3 life isnt going to be easy but he isnt alone anymore
this is why i feel adware wont go after Three or fail to, yes he has negative emotions and strong desires that the adware loves to go after but he has his other half, his partner that when they talk about their feelings they can fix the issue and become stronger as a team. All thanks to moving next door that let him bond and have friends
homie accepting death while Mario is minding his own "ah the gays are at it again" is probs on his mind
and there we have it hopefully SMG4 can help 3 save his cafe and maybe work on the issue of still feeling like he lives in his shadows, the man has done so much to feel like SMG4 is better have a feeling this ep happen due to the votes on who is cooler on youtube (smg4 won it)
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how often was ace guessed as the ch2 culprit during the hiatus? i wasn't around for it so im a bit curious
Not very often, but he wasn't, like, the most unheard of. This Accirax poll from august had him in fourth, as well as this reduced cast Star poll, so he wasn't as "clear" as people like Charles, David, etc. Below the is the impression I got as someone who was only here for part of the hiatus, I didn't visit Tumblr very often after 2024 began up to the release of CH2 EP12.
Levi was by far the most common guess, as everyone and their mother called that Arei had his secret and that made him look suspicious from a meta sense. And Hu has this funny thing where her secret quote in the source code of her character page, "I want to pay for what Iâve done. But even then, I still want to live," is the most "blackened" thing in existence, so she'll probably never escape top guesses for culprit no matter what. Add in the ideas that Levi could have broken Arei's neck without rope (strength argument) and Hu's wire was in the Ace-Nico crime scene (many believed the culprit of both would have to be the same for one reason or another), and they were the two big picks across the general fandom. Especially for those not insane enough to do full murder theories and stuff.
J was also up there because of MonoTV's comment that the Movie Screening Room's wall connected to the playground, which many believed could mean there was a secret passage she could access with her Universal Remote, and that made her shady. Clearly the comment was just to give a general idea of the spatial disposition of the building and room, but I understand why many thought it would be more important than that.
Probably the funniest situation was Eden, though. Because the tape thing and lockdown reasoning (that only Teruko, Ace and Eden were in the room were the tape, used in the murder, disappeared) was something the theorizing fandom was very aware of. You know, that think that actually ended up pointing at the culprit? Yeah, we knew that. A lot of people argued against its importance, but we were aware of it at least.
In fact, the linked accirax post mentions "the 1moreff-creator/thebadjoe scripture" because (at least here on Tumblr) we were some of the biggest exponents of Eden!Culprit with our respective theories, and we both used the tape's disappearance as reasoning for it. Now, make no mistake, there were always plenty of people that thought Ace could have been the one to take the tape, and in fact I'm sure that could have certainly earned him some votes in the linked polls, but a lot of people that pointed to the tape believed that, based on the way the scene played out, only Eden could have taken it.
We were wrong.
Sorry about that, Eden :v I swear I would have picked Ace as the culprit if the scene made it a bit easier to believe he picked up the tape T_T
That said, if you looked hard enough, there were always people who guessed pretty much everyone as the blackened. From guessing that David could have manipulated someone into murder and he'd be the blackened (even then, the main guess for murderer in this case was Hu I believe), Whit because of the "hanging out" comment (and general Whit bullshittery), Arturo because he was one of the only people who we knew would have heard the Arei-Eden conversation referenced in the note, Rose as a bit of a wild card guess because of her lack of alibi at night, to Charles (somehow) because the handwriting in the note is strikingly similar to the handwriting in the custom weapons list. Hell, after LGI some thought David would replace Teruko as the protag, maybe there was some kind of Teruko!Culprit theory out there. We had a lot of fun :D
So, as a final answer, I'd say there were four big "tiers" of characters in terms of character suspicion. "Main Suspects," being Levi and Hu, "Popular Alternative Guesses" including J and Eden, "Some Guesses Here and There" including Rose, David, Whit, etc., and "No Shot" including things like Xander, Min, Arei, Teruko and possibly Charles. I would say Ace fell in the lower end of "Popular Alternative Guesses" tier, take that as you will.
Thanks for the ask! It was fun to reminisce!
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Ahahaha i am making you talk about how the voting will affect kazui and yuno~~~
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omg there's a gun im being threatened to talk about this oh no it's definitely not like I was planning on doing this anyway because I'm UNWELL ABOUT THEM AT 1 AM
ANYWAYS DRUMROLL FOLKS WATCHING IN THE AUDIENCE, IT'S TIME FOR MUG'S 1 AM MILGRAM THOUGHTS!!!
How Voting Will Affect the Liars
Similarities
From the get-go, we already know they're pretty similar. They have references to a cat in their t2 MVs (A flash of a cat silhouette in Tear Drop and Cat. [And also the Dove eating])
We also have Yuno confirming this in her interrogation questions.
Which prisoner is the most like you? Kazui is the only option.
The two of them are also related to theater.
Yuno mentions in one of her interrogation questions that she's a part of a theater club and half takes place at a theater.
Observant Pair
Yuno is able to point out lies while having a conversation. (See her catching Kazui lying about his type and Mikoto's smiling.) She's also pretty observant with all the relationships with the prisoners (Haruka & Muu, Shidou & Amane).
I'd say Kazui is also observant. I recall a timeline conversation he had with Fuuta about attacking a guard. He mentioned that the guard could have a gun or other weapons, which is why you would have to be careful when making decisions.
Now, here's where I get a little more assumptions and stuff and less concrete similarities, but I'm doing it because I love these characters a lot so it's okay!
They both have bad self-esteem/ issues.
Yuno's aren't especially prevalent in any of her voice dramas/songs, but just note that I'd feel like being told you're some little girl when you want to be thought as of yourself would be seriously bad for your mental health.
And, also, looking at current timeline conversations, she's been asking a lot if it was worth it to be born which haha girl you need therapy.
She does mention she wouldn't mind living her life over again, which sure, doesn't sound indicative of any problems, but considering how terrible it is to be dealing with people almost dying everyday and hearing people pretend you are lesser than who you are, pretending you are some little girl, I'd say it's pretty sound reasoning for some issues.
Kazui had a little, uh, how to call it, breakdown-ish over him lying his entire life.
E: In short â between love and hate, [I would say] I hate you. Remember that. K: ⊠I get that. E: Huh? K: I despise myself for lying, too. Being a liar, you see â itâs painful. E: Heh. Then justâ K: So Iâve tried to change! Iâve tried to change. I have tried to stop lying to myself and others! E: ⊠K: Iâve confided in others. Iâve tried to be myself! Iâve tried to just be the way I was born! E: âŠHey, Kazuiâ K: Itâs not my lies that killed her. Sheâs dead because I stopped lying to her! If I had just kept lying- She wouldnât have diedâŠ! E: Kazui⊠K: I canât live unless I lie. Thatâs how I was born⊠Iâm pathetic, arenât I?
[Source]
You can also take a look at a single interrogation question and see how terrible he's doing.
Do you like yourself? I can't really say I do.
So, wowee they seriously need some therapy (sorry I'm trying to be lighthearted I'm still think about kazui's votes BAHAHSHDH also these two being my favorite characters of milgram is not a good sign for myself)
They would rather they never committed the murder.
If you could turn back time, would you commit the same murder once again? I'd make sure that I won't have to commit it. That's it.
Do you regret your "murder"? I do regret it. I should have kept lying.
(Voice Drama)
K: Itâs not my lies that killed her. Sheâs dead because I stopped lying to her! If I had just kept lying- She wouldnât have diedâŠ!
Love and Like
Now, this one is sort of hard to determine on Kazui's side, but they do seem to make some sort of clear distinction between love and Like.
Difference between like and love? Isn't liking a state, and loving a feeling?
Cat MV
Maybe, perhaps⊠or⊠could it come true⊠like Itâs for the sake of true love, who wouldnât lie for that? . . .
Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do?
Kazui mentions true love (so, let's say romantic in this sense!) and I'll use liked-liked as just crushing.
Kazui says he lied (to protect his wife) because of true love. He mentions he likes someone because he was wondering about it.
Now, Kazui as a liar is pretty obvious. He mentions he's a liar, continue lying until you find the king of the masquerade, and shown as a magician (known for tricking and lying). He basically says he's lied for others.
Lying
(please enjoy silly minigram)
Yuno has lied as well. Not in MILGRAM, of course. She has no reason to lie. I'd say moreso on the side of her work. She's lied to her clients about who she is because she wanted to satisfy her client. She dresses up (hey, is this a half reference why is there changing costumes in this /j) for each of her clients and lies to them just to satisfy them for the money.
Someone mentioned in a post I reblogged a while back that they both lied to satisfy others and that's what they did.
This same post was when I begin to realize how Kazui's voting will severely affect Yuno.
Voting
So, this is the part of the post you've all be waiting for.
The Voting.
Now, luckily for Yuno, she's innocent! Haha, woo!!
We'll talk more about that later.
Kazui's voting is interesting to say the least! (Please don't look at my last posts to see how crazy I went please vote him innocent anyways)
To me, Kazui's vote feels like would you forgive a liar who has come clean, who has begun to show their true self to you?
Kazui is beginning to reveal himself to us, to show the person underneath the lies, the costumes, and the masquerade masks.
He's trying to be honest again! For the first time since his wife's death, he's trying to show the truth and let Es reveal him for who he is: a liar, a liar who is trying to be their true self.
Now, let's reflect on Yuno for a moment.
Let's recall one of the main objections to Yuno's voting last round. She didn't like being voted innocent because of how much they tried to justify her actions and act like she's such a poor, innocent girl who only did it because she's never felt love. She couldn't believe she was voted innocent because of that! Because of lies she had made up for her clients. (Shove that, in Kazui's words lol)
She wants Es to judge not because she's pitiful but because they believe it is a correct judgment to decide. To use logic instead of half-baked opinions on herself.
She wants Es to see her true self, someone who isn't pitiful, someone who did it because she wanted to.
See the line of connection?
They both want Es to see them for who they are, not for their lies.
Now, reflecting on the current voting, let's look at Yuno.
Even after her telling us/Es not to pity her, apparently some people still acted like she was an innocent girl. And even then, we all sort of chalked her up as abortion girlboss (GUYS please she's so much more than that head in hands places hand on wall) AND, hey, I'm not saying I'm immune to this, my reaction to her was pretty much the same. I'd vote her innocent no matter the reason (I love her character or that her murder is forgivable to me, even with the pregnancy entrapment theory)
But, she's more than that. She's more than a single action she's done.
But, somehow we missed that while we voted and made our decision.
We decided she was just a single action she's done made from her lies. She was trying to make sure we'd see her as herself, not a single thing we did.
And we didn't! We voted her innocent because she's a pitiable girl who has done nothing wrong.
So, wowed, strike one for us, Failure to Vote for One's True Self.
We voted for a single part about her and disregarded everything else because it was easy.
We didn't let her show us for who she is.
Now, Kazui time!
I've already mentioned previously that Kazui wants to show his true self to us, so I won't regurgitate stuff you already know.
Now, I feel like it's sort of clear that people don't care too much about that. More on the fact that he could have stopped at any time. (He wanted to tell the truth on his terms. Divorce is also a pretty bad look on you in Japan so I've heard.) He wanted to protect his wife, okay, cool cool.
He still wants Es to reveal his true self. (And, judging from the guilty verdicts, I don't think that'll work, that'll just make them worse in the long run.)
Also, quick tangent: This sounds familiar. Why does this voting seem like we've done this before as if we wanted to reveal their true self as if we wanted to show them their sins.. anywho
And, by giving Kazui a guilty verdict, we're only further proving that we don't give a damn about wanting to know about his true self, only that he lied to his wife, disregarding any of his own feelings related to the matter. We don't care about him wanting to be hinest.
We're proving we don't care about his true self, only his actions.
So, now it's strike two! Failure to Allow Someone to their True Self.
So, yeah, isn't that fun? We failed to vote for someone's true self and failed to let them even be that.
So, why do I think Kazui's voting will affect Yuno?
Well, they're pretty similar, we know that.
They both are liars who have lied to satisfy others in a sense.
Kazui's voting is to see if we can allow someone to be their true self and be honest about themselves. He was beginning to do that when he took off his ring.
Kazui getting voted guilty means that we don't really care about their true self and their feelings, only their actions matter. None of their circumstances matter. (Hey, reduction of punishment by extenuating circumstances? What in the world, how did you get in here I thought that was only a Yuno thing)
Yuno is trying to show that she wants to be seen as her true self and we're forcing this man to continue lying.
So, guess what? Yuno probably won't show her true self if we're failing to even let someone be honest and vote based on their true self.
Yuno wants to be seen for who she is. And, it seems like we have an odd aversion to that.
So, Yuno will never find the warmth that will allow her to be true, to be herself. Hey, maybe she could die trying to be herself, who knows?
All we know is that we're deciding if someone's true self is worth seeing.
Judging by the current votes and what our judgments are based upon, Yuno will never be able to be herself. We have decided that it's not worth seeing anyway.
#I apologize if this is so confusing it's literally 2 am ad i finished typing this up#i am unwell abojt these two#places hand on wl#thanm you for asking me to talk about this though i am unwrel.abojt them#mug theorizes#milgram#mukuhara kazui#kazui mukuhara#kashiki yuno#yuno kashiki
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Milgram and The Court of Public Opinion.
this analysis will be about milgram's voting system, nuance and a whole lot of my own opinions mixed with eng fandoms translations, theories, and observations.
t1 = trial one / t2 = trial two
mv = music video
vd = video drama
voting and verdicts:
voting forgiven/unforgiven or innocent/guilty from the standards milgram sets for us (including es) isn't enough or easy.
being that milgram is set towards the court of public opinion and judgement can come from:
"sensibility, morality, ethics, legality, preference, taste, or sexual inclination..."
we end up arguing semantics, trying to find specifics in the crimes and making the best judgement possible. although in doing that the only conclusion anyone can come to is innocent when all is considered.
if we were doing it based on guilty and innocent then 5 are guilty, 2 are guilty on technicality and 3 are innocent
just in case you're curious, in guilty to innocent order as i just stated.
haruka, muu, amane, mikoto, kotoko, shido, fuuta, kazui, mahiru and yuno
it'd be over so quickly. but this... is milgram.
nuance/the grey area:
as the undercover song says, can you really judge them?
001. haruka did it for attention. with how he's coded - intellectual disability - and his mother being extremely neglectful after a certain age which prevented the possibility of his growth in intellect (understanding cause and effect/actions and consequences, along with many other things) it's easier to claim he's innocent. even more easier to forgive him due to this and extremely so if looking at it from his view point, albeit flawed. killing = attention = "affection", even if that attention/"affection" is negative it what he wanted. for someone, anyone to acknowledge him. he's innocent/forgiven because of his circumstances but if he's forgiven then he's being told it was his only option, and he was right, when the fault is on his mother.
002. yuno, as for now, doesn't have a reason. ofc in western (american specifically) public opinion or at least those who view abortion as a choice. she's been innocent from the start. this is her autonomy, her choice, even if she's 18. i won't deny she is so young to be doing sex work, or more specifically compensated dating, and yes it may be common in japan but that doesn't take away the age being factored into what she decided to do. it wasn't for money and she has a good home life. with how analytical and cold she can be, im assuming her desire to be loved in this way comes from somewhere and she's become jaded towards actual relationships. opting for the material and superficial. even without pitying her, she'd still be forgiven/innocent since t1.
003. fuuta was only trying to call out liars and scumbags. he is well versed in the court of public opinion, but he has never seen or experienced a result that lead to someone's death. looking at the undercover mv, then we can see he possibly doxxed his victim. if we take a nuanced approach here then we'd be looking at how he feels after the fact. he remembers the victims name, the fear in his eyes in his t1 and t2 mv, his voice drama after the first trial, him not approving of violence as a solution are all evidence of him feeling horrible. if he could go back, if he would've known. sure he did question why he's there instead of the people who actually killed the victim, but he also recognizes that he lead the charge. his innocence/forgiveness comes in the form of recognizing his actions were wrong. him being guilty/unforgiven is the action in itself.
004. muu is a love/attention reason. she's always been adored, admired, and cherished. she's always had her way. she also has never had to face heavy adversity. sure she was a bully, the queen bee, and a drama queen but didn't her school's culture allow her that? infact with us/es forgiving her, in the second trial song she claims as such, she'll always be queen. and for the t1 mv she says, "my 'im sorry' spells aren't working anymore." which leads me to believe that she's cried and apologized so many times that her old friends couldn't believe her. not forgiving her affirms to her that "two wrongs don't make a right" but forgiving her says the opposite to her. if she's to be forgiven/innocent the blame is tossed to the school, not her, but she won't see it that way.
005. shido is a love case, but for family. im thinking son because of a theory i saw, but either way when looking at it with nuance it gets heavier here. is taking from brain dead patients to save someone wrong? are the brain dead really dead? in my opinion yes, but that's the crux of the situation right? same goes for all the other inmates in this court of public opinion. he can be innocent from the view point that brain dead patients are already dead, and forgiven for his motive.
006. mahiru is another love case, romantic, and in a roundabout way she never committed a crime in the first place. from the voice drama and interrogation q&a slips, we find out that she's a sheltered girl and loves/idolizes soap opera and shoujo mangas. from her mv's we see she romanticizes everything, especially with her t1 mv. she's innocent because of not actually committing murder and forgiven because this is her first love, she wouldn't have known that it was toxic and messed up.
007. kazui did it in hopes of a dream, righting a mistake, being free. although he deeply regrets it, although he says he loves his wife? that love is mainly platonic. from his second trial mv, we see that he met her through his job - most likely police officer - so they had some kind of amicable relationship through their job. he only married her out of societal obligation, and noticing she liked him. not to mention in his t1 mv he says he messed up from the beginning. he is innocent because his crime is indirect, and forgiven because being gay isn't a crime and the regret he feels shows he never had negative intentions.
008. amane did it out of obligation. now, listen to me. i know she's literally 12 and was raised in a cult but notice how im stating the motive of each of these as they are from being stated in vd or pure observations from the mv's. now to any grown up it's self defense, but also imagine having gone through the worst hell imaginable all because you did something "wrong" stated by the adults around you. wouldn't the revenge be sweet? justice in its purest form. now take that and double it down with what you were taught. amane is not only forgiven/innocent because she was just a child, but because of the circumstances surrounding the murder.
009. mikoto (miko from here on) did it out of pent up stress an emotions, in turn creating john (koto from here on). miko is innocent without a doubt, and no i am not taking on the theory he actually did it til we get trial three. if koto was supposed to be his protector, and if he was born from a sudden explosion of pent up anger then (at least to me) it makes sense that he reacted the way he did. imagine being a corporate slave - no actually double it down, again, with growing up always trying to keep the peace. miko has a habit of laughing when he's upset. he laughs it off in hopes that things get better, his vd affirms this and even his mv after that. miko's smile that shifts to an extremely tired expression right before koto is born and a mirror shatters, right at the start. an intolerable stress from working so hard he grew grey hairs, cried himself to sleep, and yet continued to work, hold it in, and endure. the fault isn't on him or on koto. it's japan's work culture and the endure it mentality. koto is innocent/forgiven in the sense of motive. miko is innocent/forgiven because he's never killed to begin with.
010. kotoko did it to save the innocent. though she doesn't deal in nuance, much like fuuta. a key difference between the two is kotoko chooses violence because the justice system failed her. infact she's been hunting down the awful criminals of the world so much that she even has a covered bulletin board with pinned strings on it. on top of that, from the interrogation cards, we find out she dropped out of college and she was studying law. she'd be innocent for what she was seeking to do, in the court of public opinion, many would agree that awful people deserve a murderous punishment and she'd be even forgiven with that same reason. the nuance appears when considering the criminal, the crime and the reason. factoring those in then she can easily become guilty and unforgiven in the eyes of many, see the results after t1.
when it's all said and done:
they all had their reason, it all has a reason. who are we to say their crimes weren't just or fair? we're the judge, the jury, the executioner, and warden. in milgram whatever we says goes.
i'd love to see them all innocent, but at the same time do each of them deserve that? are their ideas being affirmed a detriment to them or their saving grace?? will they kill again?? will some of them be able to get the therapy and treatment they desperately need??? will they go back into society with an improved outlook on life or will they remain the same?
ofc i already have who i'd like to see forgiven and have already forgiven them myself, same as you reading this and those in the jpn fandom (where it originates)
anyway. moving forward please vote with this in mind, and check out the audio dramas i beg you all. i hope that there are nuance voters and voters with sympathy but with how amane was guilty in t1, i have a strong feeling it's not gonna end well. but if it does, you'll see me rejoice.
#milgram project#milgram analysis#milgram#haruka sakurai#yuno kashiki#fuuta kajiyama#muu kusunoki#shidou kirisaki#mahiru shiina#kazui mukuhara#amane momose#mikoto kayano#kotoko yuzuriha
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Propaganda Below
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïž
Misato's Car
"MIsato's car? YOU WANT SEXY AS FUCK SLEEK LINES AND THE STRENGTH OF A GODDAMN BUNKER? THIS BITCH SURVIVED AN N2 MINE SHOCKWAVE AND STILL DROVE ON AFTERWARDS. BEST TROOPER, HARDIEST FUCKIN GIRL IN THE SQUAD. JUST NEEDS A LITTLE BODY REPAIR." -@dee-the-red-witch
"Itâs blue! Itâs battery operated and a stick shift. Itâs got way too many batteries in the back and Iâm surprised itâs still running with the way itâs driven. Elon could never.
Also pretty sure it got blown up in the rebuild. Donât quote me.
Either way. Itâs a little french bad boy. Vroom vroom" -@kgbunny101
"vote misato's car, the true best girl" -anon
tags from last round:
"#if misato's car loses im deactivating" - @img-tiff
"#misato's car genuinely deserved more screen time" - @kotomarukki
youtube
Ramiel
"vote ramiel, i think we can really make her scream" - anon
"We all love cubes. Minecraft, Rubix, all classics.
Now, have you ever asked yourself, what if that cube could scream, and shoot lasers that can melt mountains? That would be Ramiel.
Ramiel, the angel of thunder, the 5th angel, is perhaps one of the most powerful angels faced by NERV. Nearly impervious to physical attack, it was only able to be killed by an extremely precise shot to the core with a positron rifle.
Also, have you seen the way she's animated in the rebuild movies? jesus christ i love her so much" -@alice-hastur
"Vote for Ramiel I STG if she loses to a car i am going to scream.
Have you SEEN HER!?! she's PERFECT!!!
who gives a shit about a dumb car" - also @alice-hastur
tags from last round:
"#RAMIEEEEELLLLL #ramiel sweep always and forever #sorry lilith you deserves more but the geometric shape wins for me" - @fire-lord-katara
"#Lilith I love you you're wonderful and I want you to turn me into orange goo #bUT OCTAHEDRON GOES EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH #RAMIEL SWEEP" - @fern-pajamabrain
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Results!!
the people have spoken! who am I to ignore such a good vote honestly (no one im a sucker for drunk max as well)
Drunk Max is a touchy Max:
The first time Daniel sees Max drunk, theyâre in a club in Malaysia. Heâs flushed, and wobbly walking, and laughing too much.Â
Now, heâs quiet, though. Theyâre flying from Malaysia to back home in Monaco. Theyâve partied all night, so obviously they still have some alcohol running in their blood, even though Danielâs bodily fluids feel more like blood running in alcohol, and it makes his head buzz. He hasnât seen Max pretty much all evening, only sharing a couple glances here and there, too caught up in the adrenaline of the win and the pretty girls that flooded the dance floor, but now he feels kind of bad. Max deserved to celebrate a one-two too.Â
Except the celebration is finished now, theyâre on the plane, a plane thatâs too bright and loud for Danielâs liking, and donât even get him started on the kid thatâs been fighting the back of his seat for at least half an hour now. Daniel has never been much of a child person and this particular one isnât helping with the view Daniel has of the species. Little fucking monsters.
Max helps though. Heâs next to Daniel, on the window seat, lucky bastard, and also completely passed out. His always neat hair is fucked up, spiky and still smelling like a mix of Red Bull, vodka and sweat, his eyes are more bags than actual skin and his lips are so dry it makes Max look like someone whoâs just passed three years in fucking Antartica, despite having spent a week in a country thatâs way too hot and humid.Â
Itâs kind of sweet, though. Max is a kid, and he looks like one, all pimple and red cheeks flushing so fucking always but he doesnât feel like one. Like, sure, he and Daniel joke around all the time, and theyâre pretty immature about it, too, laughing like theyâre on a candy high 24/7. And Maxâs dad is near most of the time, a shadow in the paddock no one wants to cross, not even fucking Max, itâs pretty scary. So itâs clear Max is still barely eighteen. A kid.Â
But they have these conversations sometimes, in the middle of the night when theyâre both in Monaco and they know they could easily go to the otherâs apartment any time they want, but they donât. They text. Like kids. And in those moments, when Daniel canât see the baby fat around Maxâs face and the childish sparkle only half-hidden by big and thick eyelashes, Daniel canât associate Max with being barely an adult. It certainly doesnât feel like it, in the way he speaks, all fancy and perfect English, and his voice isnât there to crack and betray his age. So, itâs times like these Daniel likes Max a little more than he should.
And right now, heâs sitting in a plane with Max beside him and the only thing going through Danielâs mind is that he wants to kiss him. Doesnât even want to be gentle either, he wants to be rough, teeth clacking and saliva everywhere, make it something mature that Max just isnât. But itâs easy for Daniel to think itâs something that could happen when Max is sleeping peacefully, pale like a sick man and snoring like a grandpa. Itâs easy.
It shouldnât be.Â
It isnât easy when Max puts a hand on Danielâs shoulder just as he goes to sip his drink. Drunk Max is a touchy Max, Danielâs noticed, but what he notices less and less these days is that drunk Max is still eighteen-year-old Max, even with how much Daniel wishes it wasnât the case. But being eighteen doesnât come with not being touchy, and maybe Danielâs reading too much into it, or maybe the tequila is fucking with his brain, but he canât not stare at Maxâs lips when he takes a shot, and the fucking lip freckle that Max always licks when he passes his tongue over his mouth to get the last drops of whatever he just drank in his stomach. Daniel thinks it isnât fair.
And Max laughs, and laughs, and snickers when his mouth is still full of liquid, because drunk Max is still easy-to-laugh Max, especially when Danielâs here.Â
And drunk Daniel is still easy-to-laugh-it-off Daniel as well, so he shakes Maxâs hand off off his shoulder and ruffles Max hair to make himself remember heâs a kid. Itâs not right. So Daniel shakes it off, laughs to pretend everything is okay and a single touch hasnât awaken his libido in fucking seconds and goes to find a reasonably aged girl wherever a reasonably aged girl could be in a Monaco club.Â
Turns out thereâs lots of them. Theyâre all pretty. Daniel doesnât want to look too much into it when he picks the one with short dirty blond hair and red plump lips. Tells himself heâs into European looking girls, even though heâs never been, that maybe itâs a thing heâs picked up when he turned 27 last month.
Danielâs 29 now. Heâs still into tall blonde girls and ones that laugh too loud. Heâs still into girls with freckles on their face and ones that canât dress to save their lives. Heâs still into girls that donât look like strangers but that are. Itâs easier that way.Â
Max is 21 now. Heâs still a kid, just a tad older. He isnât as round on the face, sharper nose and cheekbones. He isnât as sharp in his body, rounder waist and arms. Daniel doesnât want to notice that be he does. He notices the hair that starts to grow just under that sharper nose and the muscle thatâs building up on his chest, making his Red Bull merch polo stick to his shoulders tighter than it used to.Â
Max is 21 and his face is sharper and his body rounder but he still canât handle alcohol. Two shots of vodka in and slowly nursing a g&t, Max canât stop himself from getting his fingertips on the small of Danielâs back. Danielâs learned to ignore it now. He gets better at it every time they go out, even though they donât as much this year. The DNFs start to pile up.Â
But itâs Mexico, and Daniel got pole, but Max won, so Daniel wonders what heâs even doing here. The girls in Mexico always have dark feature, long brown hair that cascade down their back and chocolate eyes that Daniel used to want to drown in, but not anymore. So itâs clear he isnât taking anyone home tonight. Heâll have to drown in shitty whiskey and expensive tequila instead. Heâll have to drown under Maxâs touch that seems to want to spread over Danielâs whole body and go home before midnight to not wonder what the fuck heâs doing with his life.
One night, when theyâre both in Monaco again, and Daniel is just waiting for the season to end, he finds a drunk Max on his doorstep. A very drunk Max. Which isnât usual. Not that Max is drunk, because he always is in some type of way, drunk on a win or some wine it doesnât matter, because Danielâs used to Max being giddy. Heâs used to Max being drunk Max. Thank God for it.Â
The weird thing is, when theyâre both in Monaco, and even when either one of them is drunk, the only thing theyâll do is text. Like fucking kids, text message that always have too much abbreviations for Max and typos for Daniel. Itâs always this way. Texts. Daniel is glad for it in a way, because drunk Max being a drunk Max, he canât handle himself, and Danielâs fine handling him in public, but heâs not sure heâll be able to do it at home. Especially after the neat whiskey heâs started to drink after already finishing three, the one in the glass thatâs still on his nightstand. Daniel drinks in bed, so what.
And this drunk Max is flushed, but still standing, so thatâs good, but the flush is making the pimples and red spots on his neck and jaw pop out, which isnât fucking good. At all. Makes Daniel remember Max is still only 21 and that he shouldnât lust after a guy that just grown out of his teen years.Â
« Fuckinâ hell, mate, what the fuck are you doing here. »
« Shut up. »Â
Drunk Max is a touchy Max. Turns out heâs also a kissy Max. And he kisses like a kid. All teeth and too much tongue, not even bothering to ask if he can hold Danielâs waist in the obscene way heâs doing right now. He kisses like he has a lisp, lips scattered everywhere and letting out noises Daniel knows heâll hear in his dreams tonight. He really hopes Max will be there while he dreams too, though, which isnât something he should be thinking. But Max has a grip thatâs just a little too tight on his hair and itâs fucking up the whole thing sitting inside Danielâs skull.Â
Fucking drunk touchy kid fucking up his whole life.Â
#I guess not everything I write can end up being angst huh#romansshots#maxiel#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#ao3 fanfic#maxiel fic#writing prompt#max/daniel#well this was fun
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okay u kno what one thing i WILL yell at ppl on tumblr about: if ur voting in the u.s. make sure you check if Early Voting is an option for you, and if it is, VOTE EARLY. why:
its so much goddamn faster. the lines are so much shorter. For midterms and stuff I usually vote with zero line, just walk in and walk out, for presidential im expecting a line oc but like. 30-45 min if i go at a busy time as opposed to Four Hours like some of the hell lines ive seen. go early, avoid the line.
it helps the people who ARENT able to vote early (or just dont know its an option), cause it makes the election day lines just a bit shorter
get that shit outta the way instead of being anxious about it up until the day of. i mean. youll still probs be anxious about everything else to do w the election but at least not about "oh god how long will the line be".
Depending on where you are early voting might not be an option at all, or there might be bullshit to make it harder (putting the early voting centers mostly in wealthier/whiter parts of town, removing the college campus ones, weird times/dates, etc.) so im sure its a lot harder for some people than it is for me, but like. if you've never looked into it, at least take a min to check and see if itd be convenient.
where i am, early voting lasts like a week and a half, goes p much all day (with a couple of late days, tho sadly texas shut down the midnight voting they tried to do before)
theres usually fewer early voting centers than day-of centers, but its still generally enough that early voting tends to be super quick and convenient (tho there are sometimes issues with them closing down certain centers, like ugh, limiting the UT centers some years bc ohhh liberal college kids!!!)
and im sure not every place has this, but my county usually also reports current wait times so you can see which ones are gonna be fastest, and they tend to post on twitter if certain centers have no line. your county clerks office might do this too, but might also depend on ya kno. if youre in a big city or nah, how much your county wants to encourage voting, etc.
in austin tx at least, early voting is a breeze. most states allow early voting, though im sure some of them make it more difficult than others. if you're gonna vote, at least check if early is an option for you!
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Total Drama World Tour AU, where before everyone votes, Alejandro asks Noah: "Since you knew my true colors, why didn't you team up with Heather? Why didn't you warn the others earlier? Why did you only warn Owen and Tyler now?"... Noah then answers: "Because I don't care what you do with the others... If they're dumb enough to fall for your tricks and charms, then they deserve to lose... But Owen is my best friend, and I don't like how you treat him, so he's the only one I'm warning..." đ What if Noah's answer makes Alejandro decide to vote off Duncan instead?... How would Noah react to not being voted off?... What if Alejandro likes Noah's logical apathy?
thereâs something in how (according to the wiki, at least), noah takes notice of alejandroâs sketchy behavior in germany and only ever brings up the trust thing challenges later in london â not to say noah hasnât spoken with owen about alejandro before then (seen through when owen says noah told him heather and alejandro were into each other âbig timeâ, heâs obviously talked about him before) but as owenâs asking âwhy donât you like himâ and noah explains why he distrusts him that would indicate itâs something that specifically hasnât been brought up before.
all this to say that heâs spoken to owen about them before and it shows if nothing else he wants owen to be wary of alejandro, which would be why he jumps at the opportunity to further warn and explain to him his distrust.
anyway iâd imagine post-challenge, while dissatisfied with it, noah would expect his elimination (thus giving him reason to lay all this cards on the table via telling alejandro why he did so, if not being just straight-up spiteful and wanting to gloat), adding to the surprise when he isnât.
duncan would be saved by chris here (because of,, drama or whatever. the dreaded love triangle), and on noahâs part probably dread or annoyance with a smidge of being happy heâs not voted off â because, yeah, heâs still here, but now he has to deal with that he revealed himself to alejandro and through implicitly voting for him duncan may be wary of any alliance between them, leaving him as the option.
because i do think alejandro would leverage him warning owen to his own advantage â and even if thereâs no goodwill or trust, duncan would play swing vote if it means the heat is off himself. thus, if alejandro says, owen is gone â to keep noah close; but further than that i do think alejandro would at least find his apathy interesting, if initially in a purely strategic way.
a kind of, ânoah is proactive enough to recognize me but spiteful enough to think the people around him donât âdeserveâ to be warned because they canât see it themselvesâ.
there would be appreciation there for his being able to even see through his façade in the first place, and im sure grudging respect for being willing to say it knowing everyone else is fooled and it would cause dislike to be thrown noahs way (âŠ..not that i think noah thought of this. i just think alejandro would assume noah did)
i do think noah would, while being pretty incensed at leveraged into such a forced alliance situation, go along with it, riding alejandros coattails to keep owen safe.
story-wise it would make sense for owen to still be eliminated in sweden (through a tiebreaker, probably) so noah can properly break away from alejandro come merger and team with someone else
âŠâŠor conversely noah stays with alejandro and flat-out trashes it to get himself voted out. arguably the most in-character thing for him to do.
^ also because through the entirety of it, noah may recognize it for what it is; showing off. alejandro has been shown in-canon to be the kind of person who puts showing off above strict pragmatism, so heâs âpunishingâ noahs speaking out by âshowing offâ that he can leverage the situation to his own benefit anyway. and noah, spiteful and upset that his friend is gone, would seize the opportunity to piss alejandro off via ruining his whole plan.
this is all to say i want this particular set-up to turn into noah vaguely annoyed but mostly apathetic at his situation and for alejandro to be the stupid loser he really is genuinely growing to really like noah and his brand of scheming (romantic or otherwise honestly). more stupid loser alejandro please. completely dumbfounded when noah gets himself out.
#woawâŠ.. an ask of this genreâŠâŠ#i find the circumstances of this a tad funny just bc of the little fic i wrote where. yeah. alejandro votes for duncan-#-instead of noah because noah is interesting#anyway i do think it would be funny if alejandro drops hints or whatever pre-sweden about wanting owen out so-#-noah rallys it so he gets out that episode. and then comes back instantly via aftermath challenge#put that guy in situations that make him throw a Tantrum#kjask#total drama#posting this on mobile so if formatting is fucked up#then uhhhhhhhhhhh
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2024 Chinese GP: Recap + Results
Another one! Fair warning that it's the longest one so far, but I blame that on the 3 safety cars
P1 is Max Verstappen, who takes his first Chinese GP win, leading by about 14 seconds!
Yes the car is great, but the guy behind the wheel is also having to deliver - Crofty about Verstappen post-race
Red Bull also sets the fastest pit stop of the race, double stacking Verstappen and Perez under the full safety car and setting 1.9 and 2.0 seconds respectively.
Lando Norris is P2, his best finish since 2023 brazillian GP. He was also voted DOTD, winning just ahead of Hamilton and Alonso, who were also fan favourite picks. He was a little unhappy after he missed out on pitting under the safety car, but all ends well for him.
He [Norris] is not a happy bunny - Crofty, probably, about the missed pit stop
Woop Woop! I told you we would get past the Ferraris. - Norris, after crossing the finish line
Checo Perez places P3, yet another Red Bull double podium! There was an interesting 5 second gap from him to Norris, likely due to Norris having fresher tires. At the beginning though, he pulled some nice moves, regaining his position from Alonso within a few laps of him losing it.
P4 and 5 were the two Ferraris, Leclerc finishing in front of Sainz for the first time this season. They had a bit of a clash at the start, but nothing that the broadcast really focused on.
P6 was George Russell
P7 was Alonso, who was placed on an interesting strategy for the last several laps. He pitted for mediums, allowing him to overtake Ocon, then Hulkenberg, then Hamilton and Piastri.
P8 was Piastri who, keep in mind, has never driven at this circuit before
P9 was Hamilton, who is DOTD in my heart. He struggled with his tires at the start, being only one of four drivers on softs (everyone else on mediums, except Magnussen). He seemed to fare better after pitting for mediums, making his way to finish P9 after starting P18 :)
We also got a few moments of Nico Rosberg trying to be on some sort of wavelength with Lewis while commentating:
He's Lewis Hamilton, so yes he canâŠget into the pointsâŠim sure he'll move up fine - Nico Rosberg
I'm making no ground with this tyre - Lewis Hamilton That's not what we want to hear - Nico Rosberg
I can't even catch him, Mate. This car is so slow. - Lewis Hamilton That's exactly what I was going to say - Nico Rosberg (Lap 17)
P10 was Hulkenberg, yet again managing points for HAAS
P11 was Esteban Ocon
P12 was Alex Albon, who had a complaint about Ocon "moving like a ---- everywhere on the breaks." on Lap 1
P13 was Gasly, who set the slowest pit stop (19.3 sec) after an incident in the pits where a loose tire hit a mechanic when he was set to be released.
Is he okay? - Pierre Gasly All good here Pierre - Alpine
An unfortunate no-points finish for Zhou, who places P14 at his home GP, but still a very emotional day for him.
This is a dream to me as a kid, so thanks for all the Chinese fans here and back home watching TV and thank you to my teamâŠlet's keep working. - Zhou Guanyu, after he gets out of the car
Sauber, as always, had issues with their pit stops. Zhou's first one was quick compared to their previous ones, at only 3.0 seconds, but his stop under the physical safety car was the second slowest at 5.3 seconds.
He had a short fight against Sargeant and picked up some damage after contact with Magnussen near the end, losing his front wing end plate in the process, which couldn't have helped his position.
P15 was Magnussen, who always seems to be at the scene of the crime. He also picked up a 10 second penalty for infringing on the safety car.
P16 was Stroll, after picking up a 10 second penalty for causing a collision. He also had a battle for 16th with Magnussen, which was pretty interesting.
P17 was Sargeant, who was doing pretty well for the most part. Then, he stacked up a 10 second penalty for the same reason as Magnussen.
DNFS
The first yellow flag was also the first DNF of the race, caused by Bottas whose engine reportedly failed. The FIA changed the yellow flag to a virtual safety car, then a full safety car, all within a minute or two. Truly a testament to their amazing decision making skills.
The second yellow flag was caused by Yuki Tsunoda's spin out at lap 27, after contact with Kevin Magnussen that led to Tsunoda having to DNF and Magnussen going into the pits for a punctured tire.
Just minutes later, his teammate also DNFs, as Stroll collides with the back of Daniel Ricciardo's RB under the safety car. This was likely due to the fact that Ricciardo was the only one who hadn't pitted for fresh tires during the last safety car, as well as the fact that he was trying to avoid bumping Piastri, who was trying to avoid Russell, who was trying to avoid Alonso. Stroll recieved a 10 second penalty for causing a collision, but Daniel retired on lap 33 after reporting floor damage.
This idiot just slammed on the brake! Check wing damage - Lance Stroll
I've got no fucking rear on exits - Daniel Ricciardo
Before that though, his drive was going "superb" (in the words of Nico Rosberg), as he was P9 and had made a switcheroo overtake on his teammate at turn 3.
#race recap#formula 1#chinese gp 2024#f1#max verstappen#red bull racing#lando norris#daniel ricciardo#kevin magnussen#zhou guanyu#sauber#fernando alonso#checo perez#nico rosberg#lewis hamilton#brocedes#lowkey
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A little while ago you said that you have nuanced feelings on Clem x Louis, and I think thatâs how Iâd describe my opinion on the ship as well. I was just wondering, what makes you feel that way? Personally, I think theyâre romance scenes are cute and sweet, but the whole situation with Marlon makes me unable to see them as anything other than friends. I think they both mean a lot to each other, but the idea that theyâd want to date so soon after that whole ordealâs a bit of a stretch to me.
putting this under a read more so if anyone even Thinks they might get upset about mild louis opinions they can move on and stay happy. seriously people take this stuff too seriously sometimes and i dont want to stir anyone up but also im allowed to have my own opinions OKAY. none of this means i dont like him or them OKAY??
okay
thats pretty much where my opinions are too
the stuff with marlon and the vote is Definitely the biggest thing that influences my opinion about their romance. i always forget just how Cruel he is in EP2 đ like im on your side dude what aj did was wrong can we just talk about this đ but he votes to kick them out. like his reaction about marlon doesnt bother me, its his insistence on kicking them out that does đ my clem will always forgive him for it, i believe him when he says he regrets it, but its gonna take some time for trust to build again. for both of them
having only one scene between his apology and the lock in was just not gonna happen for my clem. she was mad at him for it. aj almost died because of it. she might be doing better now but she still has trust issues and her trust was broken just as much as his was. he was fine with never seeing her again, sending her and aj out to their deaths because he struggled to accept his confused feelings about marlon. that pissed my clem off shdfksd she is barely keeping this child alive let alone herself. her face when ajs kicking the wall bro she was like "its so fucking over" đ cmon bro look at her shes dead inside have some compassion. and he still hits her with the "i dont know [if i want you to stay]" even after aj gets shot like cmon man...... Cmon.........
and while shes waiting for louis to finally be ready to talk about what happened with marlon (which my clem apologizes for in the dorm, she does genuinely feel bad about it), her and violet are only growing closer, focusing on preparing the school together for the bigger problem. clem knowing vi has her back is a huge source of relief in everything thats going on, and that means a Lot for my clem, who appreciates the idea of having a partner she can rely on. my clem is already sure of her feelings for vi by the time louis apologizes. but she appreciates his apology, and is looking forward to being friends again, because she did genuinely appreciate his friendship at the beginning. but her heart was really truly Broken about everything with marlon and the vote and i think thats gonna take more time to heal. depending on player choice some clems might not even forgive him (some others might say he was right and that clem didnt stop it but... i do not agree with that.. like how could she have... aasim calls mitch a hypocrite for saying the same thing)
the other less important thing is just his general blasĂ© attitude. my clem takes things seriously, but that doesnt mean she doesnt know how to have fun. she Wants to. she just Cant. she has a child to take care of first, and she cares about the survival of the group. its why my clem is looking for someone she knows she can rely on. she never wanted any of this, and she just wants a little support, someone to help take the weight off so she CAN relax. shes so tired đ. playing with louis while aasim hunts by himself made me feel Dirty đ (i literally couldnt do it the first time i felt so bad AASIM WAIT UP). and while i can understand and appreciate his "there might not be a tomorrow so enjoy today" outlook, it cant come at the expense of the group. louis i feel eventually learns this, finding a balance between the two, and Becomes someone clem can rely on. but his change doesnt begin until like.. after the raiders take everyone (because we have to get through the marlon stuff first). and if you save vi, you dont get to see any of it đ
the thing about these two problems is that, if you were to take them out of this setting and throw them in like, a modern au, suddenly these are not issues anymore. no more life or death. the stakes are a lot lower. so i can see them dating in that scenario and having fun together. they do have cute moments!! but also due to less stakes, theres less to motivate louis to change. and i think they would fundamentally just not click on their worldviews. clem while she can have fun, ultimately takes things seriously, and louis doesnt. that doesnt mean they dont care about each other, and clem definitely appreciates his energy, but its why i see them still ending up as friends instead of romantic partners (esp if vi is around IM SORRY đ they just Click too well for me đ this is why my messy au exists đ)
i also understand this is mostly personal preference and some people might like them for these reasons đ but the dynamic that they have i prefer as friends personally. theyre supportive of each other and deeply care about each other, just not romantically imo. especially not after the stuff with marlon. and thats ok!!!! i see it a lot like louis' relationship with vi. not romantic. but they Love each other regardless. honestly the reason why i like clem vi and louis as a trio so much is that clem slots between them really well. louis who doesnt take anything seriously, and vi who takes things Too seriously. clem exists between them. knowing having fun is important but also understanding the weight of responsibility. she helps louis become more responsible, and she helps vi chill the fuck out. she brings balance :)
i will say tho louis' "nothing wrong with short and sweet, right?" line was cute he got me there
#louis đ€ violet: being a huge bitch (lovingly)#violets the bitch of ep1 and louis is the bitch of ep2 (lovingly)(but also seriously)(its important to their Characters lol)#the fact they BOTH mockingly quote their hunting partners to clem is SO FUNNY!!! this is why theyre friends#louis can be Just as mean as vi is and thats important to acknowledge and i feel like its not acknowledged very much?#also i Do just have to say it frustrates me a bit when louis is talking about how he feels bad about leaving marlon on his own to lead#while he is Actively avoiding the task violet Just asked him to do. that she is now doing for him. because he wants to do something else#like.. bro youre talking about how you left marlon with all the responsibility but youre doing the same to vi Right Now đ#it just rings a little hollow... i have other little annoyances like this but thats more with the writing than louis himself#like i Get the Intention#i get so scared talking about why i Dont like a romantic pairing people always take it as a personal attack ITS ALL PREFERENCE!!#im begging you.. keep having fun... Live Your Truth... im just a random person on the internet with an opinion#replies with lexi#incognito#twdg
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