#not saying he cant be the bad guy in ur fics

[adimouze]

.

[sxfterhearts]

i have a confession to make…

warning: 18+ mdni, explicit content ahead

ok so for the longest time i’ve tried to keep my blog super wholesome and PG with the rare exception of one or two suggestive/smut fics here and there but honestly. i’ve reached my limit 😭 i’m gonna have to do it guys im sorry i disappointed you

(fuck im so dramatic i can’t even)

(it = write that jiung smut fic that’s been living in the back of my head for the past few weeks but has been rudely awakened due to Recent Events IYKYK)

(IM SCARED OK I SUCK AT WRITING SMUT BUT I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS WHAT DO I DO WITH THEM RAHHH)

in the words of my moot — jiung you need to tone down your fanservice and visuals bc youre really making the chocochips act up 😭😭🫠😩

[3416]

are you normal or do you wake up every day and think about this

[gyuswhore]

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, you’ve 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 wouldn’t 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,…it 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 🥹 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 🤍

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 would’ve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it. 

But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feel…nothing. 

You could’ve 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. 

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. 

Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope you’ll hold back from spitting in your professor’s 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.  

Which was little to none. 

That was a lie—on 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. 

Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room. 

He’s wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. There’s 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. 

This man that’s pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath. 

“I have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.”

He’s 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 you’ve had to bully yourself through. 

“All I can say is to read through the feedback I’ve given and try a little harder next time.” His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing ‘?’’s and ‘no’’s with zero further explanation. He could say more, but you’ve learned that he simply chooses to not. 

Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, there’s another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. He’s hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand. 

The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. He’s crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were today’s worksheets. 

“...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.”

The poor TA looks like he thought he’d have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before he’s 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. There’s a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks. 

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. 

“Pass it down, please… pass it down, please…”

There’s a voice that calls from one of the front seats, “What formula is the sheet talking about?”

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 you’d have to figure out yourself).

 The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased. 

By the time you’ve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.

Sure enough, there’s a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker. 

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. 

There’s one person that’s zipping back and forth, just like there always is. 

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. 

There’s 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 wasn’t going to help.

Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation. 

Tuesday

Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did. 

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. 

You’ve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you don’t dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again. 

Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door. 

Nothing. 

You knock again.

Silence. 

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 room…empty.

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 professor’s desk has been occupied this entire time. 

Except he’s asleep.

No, that’s not the professor. 

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 there’s none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.

You don’t need to see his face to know it’s the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you aren’t quite sure what to do. 

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. 

It’s his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesn’t take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance. 

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 he’s actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit. 

“Um, excuse me.” He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. “Excuse me.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a snore. 

Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. “Excuse me!”

There’s a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire back’s worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.

“Wh–ow!” The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other. 

“W–what’re you doing here?” he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you can’t decipher.

“Um, it’s office—”

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. 

“I have to go,” 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. 

“Wait, isn’t it still office hours?” you call out as he whizzes past you. 

He’s swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, “Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“But—”

“It’s on the portal.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it—” he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. “I’ll double check. But it’s Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.”

“How—”

A loud slam! of the door. 

“—long…” 

You’re 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. 

He said he’d 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. 

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. 

The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. It’s another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class. 

She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, “Am I in the right room?”

“Uh, yes! I was just leaving,” you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately. 

You’re halfway out the door when you hear another call of an “Excuse me!”

“Are these your papers?” The professor’s full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table. 

The No is ready on your lips. Until it isn’t. 

Later on, you’d consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How you’d ducked under the table to ensure you’d gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face. 

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 you’d committed.

And nothing of the hourglass you’d just turned over. 

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. I’m aware it’s on the portal but I’d like to reconfirm. 

Regards, YN

Dear YN,

Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.

Kim Mingyu, T.A. 

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. 

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 professor’s desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen. 

The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isn’t too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early you’ve swooped in. 

There’s a brief consideration whether this was in the TA’s 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. 

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. 

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. 

People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is they’re doing, too busy to notice your blank stares. 

The faces are familiar, none of which are people you’ve 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. There’s 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 there’s one thing in common the both of you weren’t doing. 

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. 

Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebody’s already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the first’s intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves. 

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. There’s multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyone’s time management. 

Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didn’t want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls you’d noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table. 

Once again, the TA doesn’t 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. 

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. It’s then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you. 

“Are you here to see him?”

You don’t 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. “Pardon?” 

“Are you here to see him? Mingyu?”

“Uh—” Wasn’t everybody? “Yeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.”

The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, “God, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.”

“Yeah he’s a bit…unorthodox.”

“He’s unorthodox too.” She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. “A face like that is rare.”

It wasn’t that she was wrong, it didn’t take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people you’d 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 very…overwrought… suggestion wherever he went. 

It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be. 

But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool you’d sound if you admitted to anything other than such. 

“It is. His willpower’s somehow even rarer,” you add. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“God, 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.” Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory. 

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. 

There’s a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and it’s like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head. 

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 wouldn’t hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics. 

Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind. 

Alas, you don’t 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. 

You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you. 

Suddenly, the girl looks startled as she’s told to wait. 

“She’s been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you don’t mind,” 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. 

For whatever reason, you had no thought that he might’ve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when he’d spoken to you, perhaps he might’ve thought he dreamt it. Or he’d just forgotten it altogether. 

The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality. 

“Thank you.”

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. 

“You can come right after her,” he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading. 

Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables. 

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. 

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. 

It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising you’d forgotten your bag in your seat. 

Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an “Oh!” as you spring back up immediately. It’s easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat. 

The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like she’s trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat. 

Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once you’ve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do. 

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

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. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” 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.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You don’t have an explanation, but it’s somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man that’s meant to help you. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

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. 

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.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” 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. “I 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.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

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. 

You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.

“I almost forgot,” you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” 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. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. “Maybe don’t run out of rooms still half asleep.”

By the grace of God, he laughs, “No, you’re right. I should be careful.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

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.

“I don’t know if I can make time for that—no, I understand, sir,”

Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt he’s entirely comfortable with. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

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. 

“Light on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,” he startles when he notices you. 

Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. “Sorry.”

You know it’s 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. “Important call?”

“Uh, yeah, um, just work stuff,” he states, shaking his head swiftly like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind. 

There’s 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. 

“It was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,” he says. “As always.” 

“Does he do anything other than show up to class?” you ask through a snort. 

“Of course he does. He cusses out every article he doesn’t agree with, is anything but objective and…the occasional relay of blatant misinformation.” 

For the record, you’d never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months he’d 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. 

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. 

Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable. 

That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professor—it was something you couldn’t quite believe he was capable of. 

“I’m sorry you have to put up with him.”

Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, “Anything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, he’s done a lot for the area, can’t discredit him entirely.”

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. 

Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, “I’m stuck.”

There’s nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. “I am too. Help.”

Help, he does.

Monday

Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday. 

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. 

Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you don’t tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, “Make that two, please.”

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. 

Something isn’t right. 

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. 

It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction you’ve had with him. 

He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. “‘Morning!” 

“...Morning.”

“You’re early,” he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach. 

“Figured we both needed this,” you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. “It’s a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.”

“O–oh, thank you. And you’re right I did need this.”

Now that you’re closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer. 

To Do:

Call mom

Shoot myself

“You, um—” It’s alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lil’ 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. 

There’s a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. “For fuck’s sake.”

“It’s okay! I wanna…shoot myself too sometimes.” 

What the fuck?

“I mean!” you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. “It’s okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.”

It’s 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 doesn’t try to sabotage your education. 

“Good thing it was just you. Yeah.”

Just you.

“Anyways, I think I’m done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?” 

“Have you seen the time?” 

“Not a morning person?”

“Nope!”

“And yet it’s 7:40 on a Monday morning and you’re absurdly early.” His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you. 

“Do you want the coffee or not?” you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself. 

The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair. 

He gives you a crooked grin,“I apologise.”

“To be fair,” he continues. “I’m not much of a morning person either.”

You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, “I’m starting to think no money’s worth this job.”

Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, “You’re right. Not sure why I’m still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.”

“And that isn’t happening because…?”

Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. “I like Dr. Cho.”

“You—”

“I know,” he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. “I know. I sound like a lunatic.”

“I don’t know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.”

“Another would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.” 

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Excuse me for doing my job.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, “No, but really. I can’t imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.”

Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. “When 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.”

“PSYCH101?”

“That’s the one. I’d 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. Cho’s studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything he’d published, some of ‘em before any of us were even born.” 

“Oh. So you’re a fan.”

“Everyone tells you to never meet your idols,” he snickers. “He’s done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.”

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” you half joke. 

Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, “That might also be my own fault.” 

“Don’t tell me you offered.”

“I 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 just…plain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true. He was always emailing me extra resources which…I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.” 

He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, “I guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know I’m getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.”

“Did he…have a TA when you were in his class?” 

“Four.”

“Four?!”

“Two at a time. All of ‘em quit at some point. Said they didn’t want the recommendation or the pay.”

“Would he…not give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.”

Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, “He’s a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If you’ve impressed him, you’ve impressed everyone.”

You take a moment to really absorb everything you’ve just learned. “That’s a sucky position you’re in.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s okay. Three—three and a half more months to go? This isn’t even the worst of it, I’m just dreading study week when I’m gonna have to handle all the crying.”

You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept you’d be alright with this class. 

“I know you’re not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.”

“Ever heard of barriers to entry? I’d be ruined if I wanted a career in this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “All I’m saying is I’ve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months I’ve spent cursing this very lecture hall.”

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you can’t help but bite back your own smile. 

“If I can help you then it’s worth losing myself.”

Your heart is in your fucking throat.

“I’m glad when students tell me that,” he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re—” you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. “You’re doing more than just something right. You’re saving us therapy and an extra semester.”

He laughs at that, and you wish he’d let you breathe. 

“Feels like I’m doing something wrong sometimes,” he huffs. “My friend’s a TA too and he’s got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else he’s got going on.” 

He goes on, “Do 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 fuck’s sake—”

Mingyu is cut off because you’re laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. “W–what?”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just…It sounds like you don’t know what you look like.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” he frowns.

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “But that’s the problem isn’t it.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.

“Can’t possibly be enough to distract people,” he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he can’t get through to. 

“Majority of the class would beg to differ.”

There’s a pause as he registers what you imply. 

After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, “Would… you also—”

There’s 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, he’s already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned. 

“That’s our cue,” you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professor’s desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu who’s suddenly frantic. 

Of course you realise there’s 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 Mingyu’s 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. 

“Relax,” you whisper. “You’ll be better off without all the panic.”

You don’t 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 Mingyu’s 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. 

Thursday

Midterm season is nothing you’ve ever really had to worry about. 

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. 

Except this class isn’t ordinary, and it’s all you’re 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. 

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re more ready than anyone else in class.”

“How do you know that?”

Mingyu stares at you blankly, “If I don’t know that, then who else does?”

You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time you’ve teared up in front of him, but also because you’re 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. 

“But I don’t feel like I’m ready,” you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book. 

“You’ll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,” he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up. 

Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, “You only feel that way because I’ve been giving you harder problems to work on. You’re past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, you’re more than prepared.”

“But—”

“Listen,” he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. “It’s only the midterm—”

“Only the—”

“If this goes wrong, I’m just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it won’t go wrong because I said so.”

You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard. 

“I’m assuming…” you start. 

“Hm?” he looks over to you.

“I’m assuming you can’t hint at what’s on the paper.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, “You assume correct. I’m not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.”

“But it’s just the midterm,” you mumble, not even close to remotely audible. 

“What did you say?” Mingyu smirks. 

“Nothing,” you huff.

“You know, I’m a little offended you don’t trust me.”

“Who said I didn’t.”

“Well then, stop being such a worrywart.”

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. 

He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. “I made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know you’re gonna be fine.”

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 don’t see it illuminate anything other than the man before you. 

Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you don’t take anything into account as you note Mingyu’s 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 you’d ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know you’d feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend. 

He’d 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. 

You sniffle. 

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. 

You know he’s real. And you don’t 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.

It’s 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 you’d 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. 

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. 

“Morning, champ,” he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest. 

Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?” he huffs in one long, rapid question. 

“Um, I mean,” you stare at his shirt that’s backwards. And inside out. “I can’t tell if that’s a choice or a mistake.”

Looking down at his front, he looks back up, “What?”

“Your collar is…not at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirt’s inside out.”

Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. He’s immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like it’d all disappear if he keeps them like that. 

“Wait!” you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. “Do you wanna strip for the CCTVs?”

You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him. 

You’ve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, he’s 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. 

It’s hard for you to listen to him when you’re more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasn’t a breathing corpse. 

“Mingyu…did you sleep at all?”

“Hm?” His eyes are glazed over and unfocused. 

“Sleep? Rest?”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Not really. I had emails coming in all night.”

“And you were replying?”

“It's the midterm today,” he responds flatly, like it should’ve been enough explanation. 

You almost don’t believe him. “Doesn’t mean you stay up to answer something that should’ve been cleared out beforehand!”

“Couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves,” he dramatises. 

“Yes, you could!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what he’s doing to himself. “You barely look human and it’s only the midterm.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.”

Mingyu’s jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t—”

“Mingyu, please. This isn’t good for you.”

He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. “If you think this job isn’t worth it then you just don’t know.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, you don’t, because I’ve seen how good of a job I’ve been doing.”

“You have, you’ve been amazing but—”

Mingyu’s own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!”

And then he’s getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, “Why on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if I‘m doing my job?” 

It might’ve 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. 

Why on earth do you care so much?

Right. Why do you? 

“Are you asking me that?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me why I care?” 

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. 

His eyes are bloodshot. 

“I have to get the exam pack.”

Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, you’re left with a feeling that’s 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 professor’s desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin. 

There’s a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. It’s like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.

Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.

Everything you’d subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didn’t fit where the laws wouldn’t allow it. 

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. 

It wasn’t broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didn’t work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again. 

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 ‘shut down’ when overwhelmed or stressed. 

It’s 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 you’d neglect food or water on busier days, or when you’d stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday. 

Regardless, you’d 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. 

Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldn’t work, just like how the latch wouldn’t fit when you’d do the same with your beloved old box. So you’d 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. 

On the morning of your midterm, when you’d ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones you’ll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself. 

Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, you’d seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to. 

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. 

“Pass it on, please…pass it on, please.”

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. 

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. 

That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again. 

Because it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t hate him. 

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 don’t. 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. 

Throughout your years of living, you’d learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it. 

Everything. You tried everything. 

But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.

It’s Wednesday. 

You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; it’s safe and you know you’ll like it. 

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 else’s cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash. 

It’s 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. It’s strange. It feels like you’re 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. 

The papers are the same. But you read them anyway. 

Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another. 

It’s accursed the way the universe won’t let you live. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect. 

Estimation cannot be perfect. 

[_]

It’s Thursday

Class. Eat. Drink. Work.

Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!

[_]

It’s 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. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out

[_]

It’s Saturday

Eat. Drink. Work.

P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)

              ——————

                     P(B)

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

 it gets less complicated

 promise :/ 

[_]

It’s Sunday.

Eat. Drink. Work.

The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

you’ve got this!!! < 3

You give up.

It’s Monday.

8:14 AM. 

You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Cho’s 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 that’s what the twinkle from up here looks like. 

He’s insulting another author, the man’s ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal. 

There’s 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. 

An hour later, you’re staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language. 

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. 

Bright pink sticky note. 

You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that. 

9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag. 

Dr. Cho doesn’t 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. 

It’s Tuesday.

You’ve 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. 

They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better. 

It’s silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it. 

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. 

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. 

Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.

It’s Wednesday.

After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.

It’s Thursday. 

Walking out of class, your mind is empty. You’re 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. 

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 you’ve learned to appreciate. 

With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway. 

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 you’ve been caught. 

The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed “Hey!” knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension. 

You’re off centre. But it’s fine. 

It’s Monday.

“Midterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions I’ll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, either’s fine.”

Dr. Cho isn’t here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour. 

You want to leave, not caring about how strange it’d 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 don’t understand but more familiar than anything else. 

Mingyu’s voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference. 

It’s Tuesday.

Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.

—  92/100

It’s Wednesday. 

4:10 PM. It’s almost too much for you. Almost. 

The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handle’s rebound even more so. The room doesn’t so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things. 

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. 

It’s ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months you’ve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, he’s breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view. 

“Did you feel bad?” you spit.

“What?” he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, “Can we talk? Please.”

“Answer the question, Mingyu,” you snap. You don’t care there’s a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. “Did you feel so bad you had to give me something I didn’t earn?”

He’s stood up now, half confused. “Is this about the midterm—”

“I did not get a ninety two, I know I didn’t,” you grit. “Whatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldn’t.”

Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?” you announce, louder than before. 

The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyu’s face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage you’ve 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. 

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. 

There’s a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes. 

A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.

“Here. It was all you, if you can’t believe me.”

It’s a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two. 

Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason it’s only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You don’t open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages. 

Because you know you’ve lost.

It’s Thursday. And it’s full of regret. 

There’s a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. It’s 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. 

There’s 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 aren’t waking up from this one. 

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. 

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 that’s been sleeping with you every night. 

If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, you’ve crossed it with the resentment you’ve now fostered for yourself. 

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. 

It’s Friday.

At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial. 

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. You’re crying over Bayesian inference and it’s somehow more pressing than any other emotion you’ve ever felt. 

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 fool’s game altogether. 

Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth. 

[Mingyu]: switch to bF10 

[Mingyu]: you’ve been pulling numbers from bF01

It’s 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. 

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. 

Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. It’s stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before. 

Do you not miss me?

Do you not want me around?

Talk to me

I miss you

Please talk to me

“I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true.”

Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine he’s helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing you’d make blunders out of. 

The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knife’s twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything he’s bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place. 

There’s a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. 

It’s Saturday. 

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. 

The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too. 

“Latte, please,” you voice. “Iced.”

“We have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?” The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice. 

“Um, no thank you. Just one, please.”

She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldn’t bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand. 

You’re plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name. 

“...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.” 

“He has time to hook up?”

“I remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.” 

“A ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.”

“Whatever, at least we know he’ll entertain you if he likes you enough. I’m just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.”

There’s an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further. 

“Unless he flirts in variables.”

“All is forgiven when you’re born with a face like that.” 

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. 

Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls. 

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. 

She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition. 

Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesn’t look as menacing as you feel. You don’t wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.

It’s Sunday.

It seems every sip of water you’ve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears you’ve 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. It’s another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle. 

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 doesn’t make sense, the commands you’ve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page. 

Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator. 

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 can’t help but feel a little relieved it wasn’t that particular snag. 

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 she’s playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work. 

The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. You’re going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and  disappearing before going back to normal. 

Bayesian inference…z scores…null hypothesis…

Wait. 

It’s like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone else’s dark blue on your notes.

no null hypothesis in bayesian approach

Bayesian approaches don’t use null hypotheses. And z scores are in…

“Oh my god, this is a t test,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, you’re 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. 

And there it was…a clear 0.067 under the p value. 

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. 

It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you can’t help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library. 

When the initial adrenaline fades and you’ve 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. 

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. 

There’s an attached file in the email you draft. 

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. 

Regards, YN

It’s almost like you’re 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. 

You don’t need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own. 

But you don’t email him, backspacing till it’s empty once again. 

Dr. Cho’s email sits in that place instead, a first for you. 

SEND.

You don’t expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you aren’t sure if he’s going to respond at all. You’ve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. You’re forced to consider. 

Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well? 

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 tomorrow’s class when you’d have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week. 

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. 

There’s a new email in your sent box after you’re 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. 

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. You’re out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this. 

You’re afraid if you put a hand to your stomach it’d 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. 

Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop. 

The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. There’s no way to tell if you’re shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen. 

RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, it’s almost funny you expected any different from him. 

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 it’s like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift. 

Clicking on the notification, the email opens. 

Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. I’ll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

There was no way he didn’t have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and you’re sure he knew you’d realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes. 

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 you’d once considered a second home. 

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. 

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. It’s strange, you’ve never seen it wide open before. 

Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professor’s desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward. 

Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. It’s warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather. 

The desk up front is occupied, as it always is. 

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. 

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, you’d 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 would’ve been right. There’s a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed. 

Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. There’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, “‘Morning.”

You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. “‘Morning.”

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. 

It’s so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do. 

“I, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.” There’s an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now. 

He clears his throat when you don’t 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. 

“Thanks,” you hoarse. It’s 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 you’d recognise his handwriting. 

“I didn’t have time to print one out right now. I’ll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,” he explains. 

“That’s alright.” You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. “Thanks again. I’ll…get going.” 

Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. You’re already halfway to the door though, and your pride’s already deemed it too late. 

Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop me—

There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice. 

Turning back around is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. 

Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasn’t expecting you to turn back. “Can we talk?” 

And then he’s pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, “Please?”

So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man that’s haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in. 

“I guess I should start with an apology,” he’s fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion because…”

He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that when you didn’t deserve it.” 

For about the millionth time, you realise you’re tearing up again. He continues. “And then…right before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didn’t touch those numbers.”

He really didn’t, 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.

“I thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldn’t find you, and then you were gone right after. I didn’t text or call because I was sure I’d fucked it all up.” 

“I’m sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. “I really hope you didn’t get into any trouble.” 

“I–no, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I promise I didn’t.” He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping you’d believe him. You nod slowly. 

“It wasn’t even that bad, what you said,” you sniffled. 

He scoffs at that, “I’d beg to differ.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something you’ve had trouble admitting to yourself. “I should’ve gotten over it. I don’t know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I haven’t been acting like normal ever since, and I’m sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didn’t need to turn into…this!”

“You were hurt because I hurt you.”

“People have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I should’ve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. But…yeah.”

There’s a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. “I just want us to go back to normal. I’ve missed you. Alot.”

“Me too. The go back to normal bit. And the…missed you bit.”

Mingyu’s half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. “I’d thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, that’d be admitting defeat. That you’d think I…couldn’t do it.” 

Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears. 

You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasn’t what he meant.“Since when are we on caring terms?” 

Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."

It’s hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words. 

“Oh well I’d hope you’d care, since you’re my TA and all.”

“Not in a TA way.”

“Tutor way.”

“Um.”

“Friend way? A human way?” 

“No.”

You both know you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you aren’t sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm. 

“You know what?” he rasps. 

“What?”

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. You’re not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyu’s lap. 

And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own. 

You’re stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom. 

It’s short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. “Does that clear things up?”

There’s nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. “Hm.”

He laughs at your half dazed state. It’s a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. “Maybe one more time. To make sure.”

Mingyu doesn’t even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. There’s more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close. 

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 you’re already half faint. 

His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you can’t believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasn’t some too vivid fever dream. 

He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours. 

“For the record,” he pants. “I love that you care. And I hope you’ll keep caring. Because I don’t think I can handle it if you walk away after this.”

Mouth back on his own, you decide there’s only one way to convince him you weren’t going anywhere without dragging him with you. 

MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You aren’t 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. 

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. 

Like you would run away if he didn’t, 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.  

You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks you’ve 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. 

“I went to a frat party,” Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. “For Halloween.”

The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, “You went to a frat party?”

He snorts, “Dressed up for it too.”

“Oh my god,” you voice in mild horror. “Do I wanna know?” 

“Wonwoo and I matched,” he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. “I was Mario, he was Luigi.”

“How adorable.”

He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they aren’t wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition. 

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,” he informs. 

“That might’ve been a little better.”

“What’s wrong with Mario?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing. But I do hope you weren’t sporting an Italian accent throughout that.” 

“I was,” he pushes. “A horrible one too.”

You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll. 

“You could’ve gone as Peach. We could’ve matched.” 

“I don’t know if I’d wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.” You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October. 

“Maybe in private,” he says with an insufferable smile on his face. 

Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. “I’m not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.” 

“Who?”

“You and Wonwoo, you’re practically married.”

Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own that’s stuck to him. “Not with whatever he has going on with his girl.”

“Oh right,” you frown in remembrance. “What happened to not understanding how he does it?” 

“Hm?”

“He’s a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didn’t know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.”

His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. “I may owe him an apology.”

“Do you?”

Mingyu frowns, “Actually no I don’t. I don’t think he and his lady are doing too well right now. He’s been insufferable lately.”

“Is it because of the TA-ing?”

“I never know with those two,” he sighs.

There’s silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like he’s trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you. 

“Do you…know about us?” There’s hesitancy in the way you ask. But you can’t help but ask anyway.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. “I 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 I’m in it for the long run.”

“I’m glad you’re smarter than your husband,” you smile.

He only rolls his eyes, “He’s only good at one kind of chemistry.” 

“D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he assures. “They’re just going through a…rough patch.”

“Like we did?”

“If you’re asking me, I’d say they’re being a little more stupid about it.”

The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, “They’ll be okay though.”

“I hope so. I’d like to go on double dates with my boyfriend’s husband’s girlfriend.” You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice. 

“This is getting weird,” Mingyu breathes. 

You only hum against his mouth, “Do I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?”

“For fuck’s sake.” 

You’re both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you can’t 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. 

“I did the sticky note thing again too,” Mingyu says into the silence, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again. 

“Said something worse this time,” he continues as you laugh into his chest. “Accept that you’ll die alone or some other shit like that.” 

There’s comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary you’ve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click. 

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. 

MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling you’ve grown dangerously accustomed to. 

It isn’t that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply aren’t on you enough. 

The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You weren’t 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. 

You don’t even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students. 

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. 

You’re barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as you’re catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you. 

Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyu’s slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you aren’t escaping the iron grip he’s got on your face. 

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. 

“You aren’t actually paying attention in class anyway,” he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. “So why don’t you sit in the back where you don’t distract me.”

“Who says I’m not paying attention.” You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead. 

“You’re paying attention to me.”

“It was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.”

He’s all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, “Was 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.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he’d been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man you’ve been accustomed to. The fact that he’s whispering directly into your ears isn’t helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine. 

It lands with precision, right at your core. You’re too hot to tell, but there isn’t a doubt you’ve begun to pool. 

There’s a ding in the background. 

He’s suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether. 

Another ding. 

He’s reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like he’s testing the waters.

Ding. 

Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt. 

His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached wit’s end. 

“Gyu…” you whisper. 

“Ignore it,” he growls. The ringing has stopped. 

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. 

His phone begins to ring again. 

Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you weren’t sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now. 

He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily. 

The ringing stops. 

Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you can’t 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. 

There’s a ding. 

“Mingyu, I really think—”

His phone begins to ring again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” 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. 

“You should answer.” 

He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Cho’s name on the screen. “It’s eleven O’clock.” 

“It might be important.”

“The last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,” he grunts as he silences his phone. 

You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyu’s hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up. 

Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, “Nooooo, I’m gonna ignore him.”

“He’s not going to leave you alone,” 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. 

As if to prove your point, Mingyu’s phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect. 

“Go on.”

He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, “Hello?”

His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out what’s being said on the other line. “Where have you been?”

“It’s nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.”

“My flash drive won’t open up on my computer.”

You have to stifle a snort. 

“Is it…plugged in?”

“Of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Is it showing up on your files?”

“Disk…is not…formatted.”

“Erm, it might be corrupted.”

“How did that happen?”

“Did you download something off the internet onto it?”

“Hardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!”

Your fingers are massaging Mingyu’s temples as you feel him tense on top of you. 

“Your attendance sheet is on the teacher’s portal,” Mingyu grits before adding, “sir.”

“...I have other things on there too.”

Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. “This sounds like something tech support could help with.”

“Why can’t you help?” he asks sharply. 

“I…I don’t know how, sir.”

There’s a noise of indignation from the other end, and you can’t help but keep from laughing. 

Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. “I’ll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And I’ll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesday’s classes.”

The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professor’s hung up as soon as the words left Mingyu’s mouth. 

“Wow,” you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyu’s head heavier on your chest. “Not even a thank you.”

“Absent father behaviour,” Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt. 

It’s a bad joke, but you laugh anyway. 

“Will I be an asshole if I say I’m not in the mood anymore?” he murmurs. 

“Absolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.”

“Gross,” he comments, but he’s laughing too. 

“Should we call it a night?” he asks, rearing his head. 

Nodding, you rise with him. By the time you’ve reached the bedroom, you’ve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice. 

“I need a shower.”

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. 

“Do you wanna come in too?” 

Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. You’ve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment. 

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. 

Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed. 

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 “doesn’t move to insanity”. 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 Mingyu’s chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer. 

It was a Friday night, you’re alone at Mingyu’s place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this week’s tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head. 

Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldn’t ask him for a thing. 

Tired was a look on Mingyu you’d gotten quite used to, so you’ve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight. 

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. 

Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. “Did you finish the tutorial paper?”

You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. “Not yet. One last question and I’m done.”

He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan he’s pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I can figure it out myself, Gyu.”

“You would’ve been done by now if you could,” he answers. It’s annoying that he says it but he’s also right. 

Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didn’t look an inch from passing out. 

He mumbles the question as he reads, “It’s nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and you’re done.”

The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table. 

“Did you get everything else?” he asks in earnest. 

“Hm? I think so.” 

“Good.” And then he’s throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly. 

He’s in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throat—clean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but it’s 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. 

Besides, it’s a Friday night. No reason to not. 

“Gyu,” you shuffle closer. 

Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, “Yeah?” 

You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. “D’you think…d’you think you can go over post hoc tests again?”

“Post hoc?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. It’s an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in. 

Not that you care what he thinks right now, he’d figure out why you were asking anyway. 

“Post hoc, um,” he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory. 

Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it. 

“Analysis tool after you’ve already run the data,” he begins. 

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear. 

“Results have to be…they have to be…” 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. 

“Hm? Has to be what?”

“Statistically significant,” he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. “To run a post hoc test.”

His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something you’re both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. “Results of what, baby?”

“For the love of—”

“Go on,” you whisper in his ear. “Please.”

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. “ANOVA.” 

“What’s that again?”

“You little shit.”

You move your mouth forward to kiss him.

“Analysis of variance.” 

You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, that’s all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length. 

“What’s it for though? We already got our results.” 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 he’s most sensitive. 

“Ugh, fuck, for um,” he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks. 

“For…for…” His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach. 

Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. “For? Keep talking, baby.”

“For…To identify groups,” 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. “Identify…the differences, shit, hmph.”

He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, “Identify which groups actually differ, oh my god.”

The bit of him that you can’t 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.

“How many groups?” you ask, before diving back in. 

“Three,” he chokes out. “Three or more, oh I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop, holy shit.”

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 it’s coarse enough to get the reaction you want. 

You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan you’ve 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. 

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. 

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. 

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 he’s most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth. 

You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyu’s hoarse protests. He’s almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time you’ve hauled his tired ass into bed, you’re just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you. 

Mingyu’s face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him. 

“I might love you,” he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear. 

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. 

I might love you too. 

You hide that as well. For now. 

Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.

“Feel free.”

[Mingyu]: class ended early 

[Mingyu]: be there in 5 

[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. You’d stayed the night at his place, knowing you didn’t have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics. 

He’d 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 Mingyu’s already overflowing plate now, you couldn’t deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not. 

A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyu’s 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. 

He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. “You’re getting too comfortable with this job.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.”

You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. “How’s the congestion?”

“Bad,” you respond nasally. “I can’t find my Afrin.”

“It’s on the bedside table, baby.”

“No, it’s not.”

Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.

“I’m not awake enough to navigate,” you sniff.

“I’ve got you,” he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly. 

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. 

You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. “Told you.”

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. 

“Good thing I came back early, hm?” 

“Shut up.”

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.

There’s nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that. 

“Are you gonna keep doing this till finals?” you ask throatily, shifting under the covers. 

“Teaching during class time is just extended office hours, I’m gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. Or…once more if I feel it.”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?” 

Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets. 

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, you’ve 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.

“Ugh, not this week. Do not have the patience.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland. 

“Thank you, I do think I’ve been very brave.” 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. 

“What’s that for?!”

You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. “You’ve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. I’m proud of you.”

You’re 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. 

MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round he’s smart enough to not tell you. 

It’s 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. 

There’s a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification. 

It’s Wonwoo’s (actual) girlfriend, and she’s sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwoo’s living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions. 

It’s a pillow fort.

Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husband’s living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while he’s 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 isn’t that you’re upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer he’d time them a little better. 

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. 

[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 Wonwoo’s girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction. 

[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME

You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look. 

Besides, it wasn’t 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. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling. 

“Whatever for?”

“For lying.” 

You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, “Might wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.”

Mingyu’s head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. “God.”

“Him too.”

In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where you’re sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown. 

“Rumour has it,” he starts. 

You make a face. “Now you’ve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.”

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. 

“That a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.”

Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming. 

“Take a hike, Kim.”

“...Sorry.”

NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone. 

Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest it’s been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you. 

The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes. 

“Well?” he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth. 

You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns. 

“For the record I didn’t want some of the questions on there,” he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. “Hard ones weren’t mine. I promise I’m not a sadist.”

Then, in an un-CCTV’d corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds you’ve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss. 

In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge you’d gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you. 

Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. There’s a smile on your face. “It went great.”

A strong tug against your waist and you’re suddenly pressed into Mingyu’s 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. 

There wasn’t 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. 

In true Mingyu fashion, he’s 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 haven’t been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time. 

It isn’t remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyu’s hands haven’t been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed. 

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. It’s marvellous, even more so as you realise he won’t stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop. 

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. You’re sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him. 

By the time he’s relented, you’re sure you won’t feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long. 

But as you’re 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 wasn’t exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man. 

Mingyu was beautiful either way. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you, his fingers tracing your features. 

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. 

“More than okay,” you mumble. 

“Good. Thought I lost you there.”

Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. “You’re not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devil’s module.”

“Is that all it takes? Make sure you don’t fail?”

“And give head like that.” It’s a half joke. “But also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.”

He mimics you between a breathy laugh, “Comma TA. Not anymore, I guess.”

“How happy are you?”

“Still have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.”

“The recommendation? You deserve it.”

“That, and not having to be in Dr. Cho’s presence every other day. And you.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Look at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.”

“Not just yet.”

“You’ll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.”

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 there’s comfort in the air it penetrates.

“I only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.” He’s smiling. 

“Girlfriend duties,” you quote solemnly. 

“I mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didn’t wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.”

You cup his face and pout, “Oh, my damsel in distress.”

“Hm, my knight in shining armour,” he giggles. “Galloped in and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.” 

“I’ll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.” 

You can only grumble in mild annoyance. 

“I’m glad I asked you to come in early that day,” he says.

“I’m glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.” You grin.

Mingyu leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, slow, and drips of the romance he’s trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss. 

It’s almost scary how easily you’ve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly he’s 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. It’s terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting. 

But it’s true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyu’s limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know. 

“I think I might love you too.” 

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙just say yes | CS55˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: father!carlos sainz x y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: so much fluff 0 angst just lovey dovey cuteness & fun ! idek if there's much of a plot tbh lol

summary: in which you, your boyfriend and your daughter are the target of everyone's jealousy & you bask in it 😊

a/n: hiii i luv this request so cute & i havent done any carlos fics yet!! i love it he's soo beautiful fr! i've done the baby faceless tbh i felt a bit weird looking for pics hahahah anyway hope u like it 😊😊

request!!!: Can you do like a smau where carlos has a daughter and it's just fluffy as HELL !! And ofc we need lando and charles being goofy in the comments!

fc: various blonde girls from pinterest

my masterlist

instagram ->

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 682,674

carlossainz55 vacationing with my girls

view all 11,356 comments

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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 218,426 others

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yourbff

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 121,376 others

yourbff babysitting duties

tagged: yourusername, carlossainz55

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twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 302,748 others

yourusername happy first race of the season i love my boys so much

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scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

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liked by yourbff, scuderiaferrari, and 121,847 others

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landonorris share him? 🥹🥹🥹

yourusername not a day in my life

yourusername now let me come squish ur cheeks. charles let me do it

landonorris ok fine.

yourusername YAYYY

user16 most gorgeous man alive fr

yourusername posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 98,183 others

carlossainz55 come back here

carlossainz55 please come back we miss you

charles_leclerc not you sneaking off. is carlos annoying you too??

yourusername you are too mean to that boy!!!!

mclaren you can stay with us!

yourusername poachers!! im much too loyal

user17 omg lol im obsessed

user18 SOO CUTE

f1wags

liked by carlossainz55, user6, and 73,294 others

f1wags carlos after the race with his longterm girlfriend y/n y/l/n today 🥹

tagged: carlossainz55, yourusername

view all 3,935 comments

user19 she needs a ring asap

user20 r how long have they been together now??

user21 like 8 years lol

user22 carlos liked 🥹🥹

user23 they r so personal to me

user24 do u think they know how much everyone loves them & is jealous of them

user25 absolutely & they love it lol

user26 if they ever break up im done with love

user27 idk who's luckier her or him

user28 they're the definition of soulmates

user29 the world will stop on their wedding day fr

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, yoursister, and 728,193 others

carlossainz55 my perfect family

view all 13,438 comments

user30 stop it 😭😭😭

yourusername how did we create somebody so gorgeous😭

landonorris not you asking this as if you both aren't the most conventionally gorgeous people to ever exist

yourusername HAHAH shutup lando you are always slithering around to ruin our sincere moments

landonorris SLITHERING?!

user31 omg slithering 😭😭😭??

user32 lol at lando's comments he's like us

charles_leclerc let me babysit soon

yourbff why you coming for my job

carlossainz55 dont fight over my child

yoursister miss you guys!!

carlossainz55 we will have to come visit soon

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

user33 put a ring on it carlos

liked by yourusername

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, and 231,023 others

yourusername night off from baby

view all 6,173 comments

yourbff everyone in the world is in love with you

carlossainz55 right well they need to back off

yourusername tehehe

user37 wow she's unreal

user38 wifeee

carlossainz55 you are so beautiful

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹 i love u

carlossainz55 i love you

landonorris Y/N?? YOU DIDNT INVITE ME??

yourusername ...girls night

landonorris BUT YOU ALWAYS SAY IM ONE OF THE GIRLS

charles_leclerc i wasn't invited either mate

yourusername im so sorry. you guys are grown men though

landonorris no im one of the girls

user39 one of the girls 💀

user40 i love lando & y/n's friendship so bad

carlossainz55

liked by yoursister, yourusername, and 733,984 others

carlossainz55 our week off so far

view all 17,293 comments

user41 i want her

user42 join the club

charles_leclerc is y/n available for brunch tomorrow

carlossainz55 yes

yourusername i am?

charles_leclerc that is fantastic y/n we will pick you up at 11am

yourusername we?

charles_leclerc yes!! see you then

yourusername ?? WHAT

yourbff aww i love my y/n

carlossainz55 yours?

yourbff yes she is mine! tyvm carlos

yourusername hahahahaha

yourusername i love u both

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 334,756 others

yourbff pretty pretty girl

yourusername yup

carlossainz55 i told you you'd enjoy yourself 😊

yourusername yup

user43 omg the brunch with charles?

user44 so effortlessly cool

user45 looks delicious tbh. you not the food

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, and 123,284 others

user46 brunch & then the beach??

user47 hmmmm

user48 wuu2

user49 charles forcing her to brunch & then this???

carlossainz55 posted a story

liked by yoursister, landonorris, and 892,293 others

yourbff 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user50 MY PARENTS

yoursister AHHH!!!!!

landonorris heeheehee

charles_leclerc ur welcome mate

user51 OMG FINALLY

user52 OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

user53 OMG IT'S REAL!!!!

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 792,673 others

yourusername luckiest girl alive

tagged: carlossainz55

view all comments

landonorris congratulations parents

yourusername aww love u our little lando

charles_leclerc congratulations beauties

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

yourbff my gorgeous girl with her beautiful daughter and some guy

yoursister the most beautiful amazing woman you've ever seen and then.....carlos

yourusername mean girls!!

carlossainz55 no they're right perhaps?

user54 LOL barbie & ken vibes

danielricciardo CONGRATULATIONSSSS 🥳

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

lewishamilton congratulations ❤️

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

user55 😭 so happy for them

user56 im obsessed with them.

user57 best couple on the grid period

user58 the most beautiful family ever. SO JEALOUS!!!

THE END ❤️

[81folklore]

i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid

parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi

summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling

type: social media au (smau)

notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!

notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!

masterlist

march 2024

twitter

charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp

i have been waiting for YEARS

max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.

lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???

alex be glad he doesnt use captials

oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him

max ???

lando anyway

yn mate you ok?

yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am

lando yeah but usually your not single

lewis oh no! you and jacob split?

yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore

charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣

yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising

fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!

yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost

fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!

yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?

lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???

yourname cheers ill get on now

george let us know if you need anything!

may 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others

p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!

thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️

view comments

mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*

landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate

yourusername same time next race?

user33 loved seeing you back on the podium

user2 absolutely smashing it this season

user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*

user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*

twitter

*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*

august 2024

yourusername

liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others

did some reading, painting and writing

baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️

view comments

user66 AHHHHHH

yourusername ahhhhhhh

user26 cats name plsplspls

yourusername norman🐱

lukehemmings nice music👍

yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!

mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium

yourusername always!!!!

user74 have you had funnnn??

yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋

twitter

*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*

october 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others

p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased

huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️

view comments

user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*

user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud

yourusername ⭐️⭐️

gracieabrams woop woop!!!!

yourusername 😝😝

user2 gracie??

user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕

user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!

yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot

user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)

yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)

twitter

november 2024

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others

tagged: taylorswift

i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album

im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before

i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life

send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)

comments have been limited

taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍

yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️

twitter

yourusername added to their story

seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others

charles i feel completely betrayed yn

fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?

charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??

AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️

yourname sorry charles, surprise?!

charles ill forgive you because its a good song

yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!

yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️

yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!

lando I LOVE IT TOO

but seriously are you ok?!

yourname yeahhh im better now

was just a lot to navigate

lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us

yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do

alex yn was that twitter thread right?

yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate

alex user56tweetlink

yourname oh pretty much yeah

some things were changed with taylor but not much

fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!

yourname thank uu

max good song yn!

now

lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!

oscar max is kind of scary

max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!

[dancingdonatello]

Please do Donnie with a reader who DOES NOT know how to flirt with him🙏🙏🙏 the reader could be like

“Soo ..you come here often ? “ and they are at like the lair or smthing 💀 and maybe the others try to encourage it or smthing sjsjsjsjjs

I LOVE UR FICS SM I CANT STOP REREADING THEM ONG 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑

rise donnie x reader

Donatello was so done with you.

“Yes. I am here all the time.” He didn’t even play along, he just turned back around to his project and continues his work. He ignored you as you stood next to him at a loss for words.

Whatever. Next time, you’d have something better up your sleeve.

Your touch grazed over his muscles and you blinked your eyelashes at him. “You have such… unique skin!” You smiled charmingly at him.

“That sounds vaguely offensive.” Your shoulders drooped and your hand fell away. Yeah, he was right.

You could feel the annoyance radiating off of him. You tensed up. God, why can’t you just be smooth like all the guys in those movies you were watching earlier?

“Your scales are… really sharp?”

“Softshell scales are actually smooth in comparison to other turtles.” He kept scrolling on his phone. You looked over to his brothers. Raph and Miley gave a thumbs up while Leo looked like he was struggling to hold back some laughter.

Next time, you were sitting in the living room together. “You look really nice in this lighting.”

“When it’s pitch black? Are you implying that I look better when your vision is worse?” You started to sweat and turned to watch the movie that was playing. Mikey coughed out a laugh.

Maybe you could get him flowers. You could just be bad with words. You’d have to make up for it with your actions! Besides, Leo said he loved flowers.

You brought him a beautiful bouquet you spent a lot of money on only for him to say that he was allergic. You glared at Leo who attempted to gaslight you into believing that he never suggested flowers.

You’d never win this turtle over. You gave up soon after, only giving him quick glances. You could get over it. You so wouldn’t think about him everyday for the next two years until you found someone else to obsess over. Nope.

But, then, Donnie seemed agitated with you. “Why are you acting so different?” He cornered you soon after you decided to stop bothering him.

“What?” You were confused.

“You’re not…” He waved a hand around. “You know.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not…” He grew frustrated, tapping his foot. “…making any more comments.”

“Comments?” You tilted your head. What was he talking about? “You mean, me flirting?”

He looked away and you swore his face was a shade darker than it usually was. “…Yes.”

“…Do you want me to keep doing it?” He just barely nodded.

Oh my god. He glared at you as soon as the uncontrollable grin appeared on your face. You had won him over after all.

[caitlinclarkluver22]

~Tell Ur Girlfriend ~ C.C ( nsfw mdi)

warnings: light smut, a little bit angst, master baiting , cussing, anger love confession, w/w, consent was given throughout this fic btw, idk i think that’s it

pov: caitlin clark is with her boyfriend, but she just can’t get you off her mind

“ should i tell my boyfriend what ive been doing? been thinking of you. everytime i screw him.”

( btw this is my first ever one shot or wtvv sooo yeaaa 😭 also i js love this song with all of my heart I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF IT!! i also don’t really know the word count…so please tell me how to do that im kinda dumb, and also don’t mind the switching in point of views, this was kinda a mess!💕)

also blue means flashback, pink are lyrics from the song!

“ fuck caitlin…yea you like that don’t you?”

Caitlin, in fact, did not like that. Her boyfriend had had a difficult and stress filled game tonight, and he needed something to help relieve his anger a bit. Caitlin, being his girlfriend, offered to help.

As caitlin stared longingly at the clock propped up on the bed side table, she awaited for when this was going to end.

“ oh yes- mm such a good girl for me hm?”

Ew. Caitlin didn’t like being called that…unless it was by someone else….no she can’t be thinking of her, that was long ago….right?

“ should i tell my boyfriend what i been doing? been thinking of you, every-time i screw him.”

Her boyfriend, after finishing, was now fast asleep and snoring in bed beside her. But caitlin couldn’t sleep, she could only think of you. She remembered the intimate moment as if it was yesterday….

…the team was having a sleepover, all the girls from the basketball team were there. They all were watching a movie, the fragrance of melted butter popcorn in the air, and the laughter that could be heard even if miles away taking over the atmosphere . You and caitlin had been best friends since high-school, you guys were inseparable.

Although you guys were best friends, everyone knew that you had a severe, but secret, crush on caitlin. and caitlin reciprocated those feelings too.

it was so bad, that even some of the fans had theories about the two of them, wether it’d be that they were secretly dating or even that they were just hooking up. therefore, when caitlin revealed her 3 month secret relationship with her boyfriend…the fans weren’t the only ones who were disappointed.

at the sleepover, everyone had fallen asleep, except for caitlin.

and you of course.

as you attempted to fall asleep, you felt a gentle tap on your back. you turn around to see caitlin with a small mischievous grin plastered on her face.

“ hey, you awake? psst…psst…hey wake up..” , caitlin whispers to you.

“ caitlin im not even asleep, i physically cant. and..what do you want?” , you say slightly irritable since you were so close to dozing off.

“ i don’t know..i just can’t fall asleep. can you?”

“ well not anymore thanks to you” you silently grumbled, sitting up criss crossing your legs.

you and caitlin had chosen the second couch, it was slightly small but they fit just fine. the other girls were on the seats they had chosen while in pairs , sound asleep.

caitlin was already in a sitting position, her legs criss crossed like yours.

“ so why’d you wake me up…?”

“ um just wanted to um-…..okay fine you got me. i don’t know im just bored out of my mind. plus isn’t this a sleepover..? like why is everyone asleep so early?” caitlin rambled .

you couldn’t help but chuckle at this, caitlin always rambled to you about nonsense. i mean of course she did, overall she was your best friend.

but when she rambled, it could also mean that she’s nervous…stressed even.

“ don’t worry cait, it’s okay i’ll stay up a little longer to talk to you if you want “ , you laugh.

caitlin did the cutest grin ever , her deep dimples showing immediately.

“ omg okay thank you so much- i just…idk needed someone to talk to.” she said, her smile fading out into a tiny but noticeable frown.

you sat there, worried.

“ hey you okay cait..?”

“ yea im fine..its just..” , she muttered while looking at her phone, her eyes slightly watering. she turned the phone and showed you what she was stressed about.

on the phone, it was on iMessage , she was texting her boyfriend. he was basically mad at her for “ not telling him” that she was going to the sleepover since he “ needed” her because of his incredible loss. he then proceeded to break up with her, definitely impulsively making decisions due to his anger.

as she continued reading the series of messages, she got more shocked with each message sent. her eyes scanning the screen, getting more angry yet sympathetic the more she read.

“ why would he say that? are you okay?”

are you okay?

those were the three words that made caitlin break. the guard she put up finally shattered as she started uncontrollably sobbing, hugging her best friend tightly.

“ i don’t know, i didn’t do anything wrong. what’s wrong with me…what did i do?” , caitlin sobbed incoherently, tears spilling from her beautiful brown eyes.

all her best friend could do was rub on her back slowly, comforting the athlete.

“ shhh…it’s okay caitlin. i’m here okay? i’m here.”

as those words left your lips, caitlin looked up at the girl, her eyes swollen and glossy.

“ maybe i just need to pay more attention to him, or maybe i just need to dress prettier or-“, she cried, her head hung in her hands now, slightly tugging on her hair due to the amount of stress placed on her.

“ no caitlin. look at me.”

caitlin brought her gaze from her hands to her friends face, gosh she was beautiful.

“ your the best girlfriend he could ask for, if he doesn’t want you to hang out with your friends, then honestly fuck him. he doesn’t deserve you and you deserve better. and i know that might be mean or harsh to say, but it’s true and someone has to finally say it. he’s always controlling your every move and everyone sees it. you don’t look happy anymore. if anything u look drained all the time. i don’t want to see you like that anymore baby. i love you too much to see you suffer like this.”

baby. ugh the pet name she loved to be called by you.

wait. did you say you…loved her? she stared at you, the question threatening to spill from her lips.

“ you love me?”

“ ugh of course i do caitlin! how could you be so blind? i’ve loved you ever since we first met in freshman year. ever since we saw eachother at basketball tryouts. i’ve loved you for so long, and you just keep letting this asshole break your heart over and over again. and i just have to comfort you and myself with the reality of everything. you know how much that hurts? having to live with the realization that you will most likely never love me back? and to think that-“, you were cut off by lips being pressed to hers.

caitlin pressed her lips against yours, hungrily grabbing your hair and pulling you closer, her hot breath mixed with yours.

you kissed back, grabbing onto her lovely hips, pushing her back against the arm of the couch. you straddled her, both of your hands on her face.

with one hand, you slightly pulled on her hair, causing her head to go back, revealing her neck to you. you kissed on her neck, searching for not only the sweet spot , but for the noises you dreamt that she’d make for you.

caitlin then moaned softly as you found the spot that made both you and her weak. after you heard the noise caitlin made, you made sure to concentrate on that one spot, sucking and biting on the place that mattered.

this action had caitlin a mess, her moans and whimpers slowly getting louder by the minute, both of their cores getting hotter and needier for eachother with every kiss they shared.

“ fuck i-i need you…”, caitlin whimpered, her hands grabbing onto your hair, pushing you closer to her exposed neck that was now full of purple hickeys.

“ shh don’t wanna be to loud…hm? be a good girl and stay quiet..”

…..as caitlin remembers the intimate moment, she didn’t take the time to notice her long fingers down her pajama pants, under her panties, slowly rubbing circles onto her now aching clit.

fuck she was close.

as she continued masterbating, she stuck three fingers in herself, moaning at the pleasure. she couldn’t help it. she moaned more at the combination she was feeling, the pleasure of three fingers up her core, while circling her clit at the same time.

as she was caught up in the moment, she moaned your name, a little louder than expected. she didn’t mean to.

as she finally finished on her slender fingers, she opened her eyes, only to see her boyfriend fast asleep and snoring.

it wasn’t until then that she realized how much she really wanted you. no….needed you. all she could do was sigh, lay down, close her eyes and dream about you, her dreams being the only place where her fantasies came true.

“ and if you want me, you gotta put the word in. go tell ur girlfriend, that im ur girlfriend.”

it was now the morning, she woke up with a little stretch looking beside her. right next to her was an empty spot that her boyfriend should’ve been in. then again, he always did this. after sex there was no aftercare or quality time spent together. it was just..well…sex.

she sighed with her head in her hands.

what has she got herself into?

“ cuz i don’t wanna live a lie, lie, lie.”

damn did she miss you. she missed the feeling of you against her neck, your kisses and ur sloppy hickeys. she missed the smell of that damn cherry chapstick, and she missed the sound of your moans that made her go insane.

she had to go see you.

there caitlin was, knocking at your dorm door, room 422, just like she had remembered.

“ coming!”

‘yea you will be coming very soon’, she thought.

you opened the door to see caitlin, she was dressed in a white nike jacket, black shirt under, and matching joggers that replicated the jacket, her hair was pin straight.

“ hey cait, what’s u-“, you got cut off when caitlin pushed her back into the dorm, pinning you against the front door, hands holding your wrists down, definitely going to be bruised later, as caitlin hungrily kissed you.

you moaned at the sudden action, moaning into caitlin’s mouth, only driving her to continue.

“ ugh i’ve missed you…” , caitlin grunted, as she moved her lips against yours, you kissing back even harder than she was.

“ caitlin…ugh…mm…caitilin what about y-your boyfriend..?”

“ ugh i can’t anymore with him, been thinking of you everytime i screw him, i swear.”

“ but what if he finds out? what if he catches us then-“

“ what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“ we were just friends, but then came in cupid. the tension was buildin, we had to pursuit it.”

caitlin was now on top of you, fingers circling your clit. both of you were partly unclothed, the only clothing intact being your panties.

“ fuck caitlin i’m almost there, please.”

“ please what?” , caitlin asked almost teasingly.

“ please just fuck-“, she was saying as there was a knock on the door, a shout coming right after.

“ caitlin! i know your here, your location says so!”

you and caitlin could recognize that voice from anywhere.

it was caitlin’s boyfriend.

well fuck.

“ go tell your girlfriend, that im ur girlfriend”

—————————————————————————————————————

OMGGGG I FINISHED IT!! i had literally the hardest time writing this like i legit forgot about it but then i came to a restaurant for a couple hours and my writers block sorta just vanished and i started writing sm.

IF YOU WANT A PART TWO JUST SAY ITTT!! idk if people willl actually like this, it is my first so please don’t judge too much, i tried my best! anyways i hope you caitlin clark fans enjoyed this! have a good day and remember to watch indiana fever tonight at 6:30!

[iplayghoul]

i know im supposed to finish that ghost fic, but i kept thinking ab piss kink wit onyankopon. stay wit me now!

ony's the typa nigga to not have a thing for feet at awwl, but will suck on ur pretty toes when he sees u got them done, just bc its youu

so the piss kink conversation was nothing in depth really! but it starts off spending the day at the mall wit him, you had water with breakfast, grabbed a caramel frapp as you started your shopping adventures with him and got some sprite wit your lunch that almost killed u !!

its nnottt long at all b4 u gotta get to the bathroom :3 the first time u ask ur like "ony can u hold my bags for me, i gotta go pee real quick babe." and its a simple question really, ur handing ur bags over to him already but he doesnt take them, he just says "nah, lets go," and suddenly youre... a bit shellshocked lmfao. but he has you walking into the next store like nothing happened.

within another hour, your feet hurt and youre ready to gtfo this damn mall :( and ur bladder is holdin on by a thread too ! ur bouncin on the balls of ur feet and bouncing your legs restlessly as you hold ur pee, literally throbbing from the sensitivity 😭😭

so u ask him again, "ony bae, i really needa go piss, come on." this time he stops n looks u in the eyes, rubbing your arms calmingly and says, "you can hold it, can't you mama? you're a big girl u can do that f'me. cant you?" ur eyes are glossed overrr the ache is honestly unbearable so within the next 20 minutes yall are finally getting home.

when u guys get back to ur apartment, ur rushinnn to ur bathroom so quick, but ony grabs you by the arm, lightly pushing u to just sit on the bed and u bounce restlessly on the bed, ur piss just on the edgeee ready to come out >>:( u cant help but mumble questions at him, getting irritated but he remains calm and only smiles, drawing his fingers between ur legs to put pressure on ur clit. he rubs hard circles on you and now youre torn between focusing on the stimulation to your clit and trying not to piss all over him and the bed.

he's soo sneaky and skillful honestly, he's holding you down with one arm while the other is working you hard and slow, letting your clit harden and puff out below his thumb and his eyes are glued to yours, except all you can do is stare at his thumb's work. as if that would help u stop yourself from peeing :/

i like 2 think that ony is quite mean, but hes so soft and casual about it, he gets away with it so easy. because its only a matter if time before he has two long fingers in your pussy, together with his thumb on your clit and now you're gripping that arm so bad 😭 eyes teary and can never be drawn away from observing his hands on you.

its sinister honestly the way he so slowly strokes your g-spot with his clean cut and trimmed nails. and then he's getting on his knees... everything speeds up and suddely your tapping his arm quick, panicked telling him to stop before you cum. n squirt all over him. his eyes remain trained on yours, revelling in the way your eyes frantically move from his to his fingers and back to his😭😭😭 "mmm, u cant handle dat?" he mumbles, onya's so mean to u >_< you're speechless honestly, this day didnt go how you expected it.

but, ur dripping down his palm, tears mimicing it the same way on your cheeks and then youre cuming hot and heavy . u swear warmth washes over your entire body and your thighs squeeze around his hand and ony's fingers never fuckin stop . orgasming so damn hard your tummy started to cramp up and ur legs stiffened up baaad in that position. "let it go baby, c'mon mama. been such a good girl f'me."

and jus like that, u let go, piss n squirt, whatever the fuck it is spraying in a hot, relieving stream onto his face just like he wanted, he gives ur lower lips a few kisses n licks :<< then going slack jawed, cupping ur cunt wit his mouth while u spasm and moan above him. lettin u full his mouth up real good :)

[leavingsunsets]

hello!

I would like to request hcs (if that's fine with you, because I saw you're more on the fics side :3) for Kinro (bro deserves more love), Sai and Ryusui with a very emotional and empathetic reader, who tries to mask it by acting all cool and unbothered, but it doesn't always work well. I prefer it to be on the more romantic side, but I don't mind the platonic one! It can be either female or gender neutral reader. I will rely on your intuition and creativity.

I hope I explained everything quite sensibly and understandably. ._.

Have a wonderful day!

Ohh my gosh hello hello! I don't mind hcs as well, since i lovw these characters so much like mwah mwah mwah (AHEM AHEM magic man COUGHCOUCGHFOUCGH) but anyways im doing gn reader so lots more ppl can enjoy tehee. here it is !!

"𝙋𝙤𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣."

[gn!reader]

𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙧𝙤

Tbh i feel like Kinro is KINDAAA similar in the same sense?? like, all cool n stuff but hes actlly a real sweetie sometimes mwah mwah mwah. also ur right he deserves more love hes literally just a loveable guy

At first i think hed be surprised, like, all, "woah, uh, you good"

but then, i think among the three, isnt that fazed. hes around ginro almost 24/7 cmon.

but once he gets used to you he just stares when you get all cool and so indifferent then he goes "its okay to be sad about it" then you just start beating his chest bawling and he pats your back

platonically, thats what hed do. Like, hed just silently offer support while you tell him your troubles or thoughts. like nod along or put a hand on your shoulder in silent encouragement or just seem so cool while spouting out some wise words. (he puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at him, the wind blows his hair slightly, the light capturing him in a perfect angle. "i understand that feeling. i felt hurt when ginro laughed at the rip in my pants too" he whispers so coolly and you bust out laughing)

romantically, hed be more initiative in this type of stuff i think. like, if he saw you going away on your own hed follow after to talk. or be more nervous cuz this time hes ACTIVELY trying to cheer you up, like tryna be comforting even if his words come out awkward or something like that. "uhmm, thats bad.. uh.. do you wanna. do you wanna hug?"

either way, 10/10 this man will never disappoint, he doesnt, and he didnt. he is underrated and we should talk about him more def

𝙍𝙮𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙞 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞

Ohoooo. this maaan is likeeee. i dunno man i feel like he literally has the same reaction to every single type of person.

encouraging, supportive, and just a big big ball of sun

hed just pin you down as an interesting person and spout some compliments

even when you first meet and he sees how you work hes like "👍!!"

So lets say close friends now. he sees you go 'its okay. I dont care' and he sees you be all 'im going to dramatically sit on a rock and have a glistening tear down my face lit by the sun' and he'll like, smack your back 4 times going 'ITS OKAY MY FRIEND ITS OKAY'

Platonic?? just like that. how he treats everyone which is of course very special. goes 'hey, its alright. like really. im here to be a bud and give u some encouragement' and be all like 'DW MY FRIEND' and just even gives u nice talks

ROMANTICALLY?? kind of the same, but but but but. he litrlly goes and does smthng to cheer u up. like litrlly does the same as platonically, but later even when ur all cheered up, brings u to a nice place like a nice view. Doesnt SAY anything cheesy but ltrlly aheaeha RAWR ryusui nanami i cant believe you just took me to a nice dinner date

𝙎𝙖𝙞 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞

okay hmmm. idk depends on the intensity of it he MIGHT be averse?? Not entirely but as long as youre not bawling and sniffling i think ur good 👍

ok so u first meet right? and then he meets u 'oh cool person ok. rlly chill' then after awhile he sees you start sniffling over someones sob story and hes all like 'aweee'

NOT IN A 'thats cute' WAY LIKE. HES JUS LIKE THINKING 'OH THIS PERSON RLLY CARES ALOT THATS SWEET A LITTLE'

maybe that might be a bonding factor. Like, the fact that ur empathetic and soooo YKNOW, YOU

so like when u werent close he was all like 'ohh. ahhh wow. i see.' now hes all like 'haha theres my little gober gomble with the gummy goo' but he will never say that ofc grrr

PLATONICALLY. hes as goober as can be. literally being all friends friends with you and loving your company. like, actively approaches you and goes 'hey!!!! :3!!'. literally a sweetie yall talk about stuff and the whole time hes like :3 and all supportive and encouraging throughout whatever ur feeling, blue or yello, red or green.

fixes my bowtie. Now. ROMANTICALLY?? so this is only it does blossom after the platonic stage. he does the same things, except all 'hmgngmg omg.. its them...' inside now. More active tending to you in your moments, happy or blue. like cheering if ur cheering, fretting over u if youre sad over smthng, stuff like that. or angry, like going 'PLS PLS PLS PLS' holding you back from hitting someone on the head. literally just the same in platonic but hes so so so sooo in love with you and loves you, for being you, more than anything

_____________

WHEW and thats. yeah. thats it. Again i am so sorry for the disproportionate pics n headers EVERYTIME i literally crop them on my own sometimes n i dont know where else to get them. but yah i hope u enjoyed and sorry it took soo long :333 !! Hcs are easier for me 2 do than fics because they take less time and like, hmm, its not that hard since theres no plot planning or proofreading or anything like that. but yes WOOO ENJOY I HOPE YALL KEEP ENJOYIG THE RARE FICS IS PUT OUT IM SO SORRY FOR THAT TOO 😭😭

[silly-lil-scribbles]

Introduction post!!

freeeeee

status: cut my foot ow

lyrics that fit the current vibe: anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name and i will be held against you

current chance of a response if you dm me*: 2%

* does not apply to mousie cuz its my emotional support friend

- My name is Finn! You can also call me scribbles, soup, or really any dumb nickname will do. it/he <3

woah look at that.. its me.. on another website!! slight flash warning for spacehey btw ^^

if you havent read this in a while, i would suggest reading again cuz i update it a lot <3

- faggy but in the most aroace way possible

- as far as gender, boy-ish

- I MADE A JAIL ACCOUNT SO IF IM JAILED I MIGHT BE OVER THERE ‼️ @soup-has-been-imprisoned-noooooo

- I POST ABOUT BUGS A LOT! if you dont wanna see that …. sorry? i always tag if op didnt but just proceed with caution yk

- I post about the magnus archives/protocol and my chem frequently, though I also just reblog a ton of random shit. may be nsfw. Also I forget to tag for spoilers a lot so just know that there are magpod spoilers in general on my blog.

- Music artists I like: mcr, mother mother, lemon demon, will wood, dazey and the scouts, cavetown, fob, nova twins, that handsome devil, noahfinnce, qbomb, gum disease, sparkbird, mischief brew, poppy, be your own pet, pierce the veil, specimen, faetooth, the mechs, rabbitology, scene queen, she/her/hers, femtanyl, leathermouth, baby queen, pansy division, the spook school, egg, the crane wives, of monsters and men, and slutever

overall i just really enjoy punk and emo and dark cabaret

- Shows/Podcasts/Other Media that I like! DANGER DAYSS, Malevolent, The Magnus Archives, Stranger Things, Welcome to Nightvale (though I haven’t finished it yet), the Osemanverse, Nimona, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls, ATLA, LOK, It, Hilda, Camp Here and There, Radio Rental, warrior cats, the silt verses, dead end: paranormal park, the saw franchise,,,, big fan of horror movies in general so id love suggestions, also there’s probably more but my memory is shit

- my blog is super messy so all of my art is under the tag #scribbles draws a thing and my original text posts (not the short personal ones typically, just the one i actually want people to see) are under #scribbles says shit.

- my body hates me very much (in other words im physically disabled)

- surprise, my brain also hates me very much! And yes also undiagnosed!

- tone tags are appreciated <3

- i post a lot! if you left an anon ask please check my #scribbles asks tag if you cant find it, sorry ‘bout that

boundaries n stuff:

- not ok with sexual or romantic comments

- platonic flirting is ok if we’re moots

- feelings on sex fluctuate a lot but im usually pretty indifferent, same for romance but usually averse

continued:

- i have a tmagp fic i just starting writing! If you wanna know more, posts related to that are under #electric desires have unraveled all my wires :(

- I have 4 cats and a dog, also a gecko

- i have a queerplatonic partner!! hes awesome and swaggy and writes so much. so. much writing. wow. not saying wow in a bad way im just genuinely impressed. chou if ur reading this i love you <3

- SURPRISE i have another queerplatonic partner too!!!! its super fun and cool and pathetic /vpos. my favorite excitable soggy cardboard box ilysm <3 (if ur a regular around here im sure ur familiar lol)

- i love them both so much holy shit guys aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

- coyotekin therian !!

- i love bugs!!!!!!!!!!! please show me bugs!!!!!!!!!!!!

- My favorite colors are hot pink, cyan, neon green, and red

- I love interacting with mutuals and getting asks! plspls send me random shit in asks im begging

- I’m creating a cartoon called Catlantis (still in progress)

- I have a love hate relationship with writing but i do it anyways so oh well

- Frogs.

other tags i use a lot are:

#soup poorly draws gay people out of obligation; my series of promised dyhard drawings.

#soup gets pathetic about friendship; me when im a sappy bitch about my friends or partners

#objectives list; save file for when i say im gonna do something so i dont forget about it

#catlantis save; hoarding info for catlantis

#insomnia induced rambles; i cant sleep and im making it your problem

#our lady of sorrows; not the song, my mcr inspired goddess i made up for my dnd character to worship

#scribbles asks; asks

#info save; good to know

#scribbles liveblogging tmagp; exactly what it sounds like

#art save; resources for doing art

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[groupiewhoreee]

Can you write if it’s possible Guns N’ Roses headcons ? <33

hii! yes, i can. i was thinking of writing headcanons for them, and writing headcanons for characters are quicker to write other than fics! thnx for ur req <3

(STILL WRITING ALL OF UR REQ JUST POSTING THE ONES I HAVE DONE!)

Guns N' Roses Head-canons (NSFW ADDITION!)

Warnings: Smut, y'know the kinky stuff. (Minors DNI! 18+ people only. I cant force ya, but it's highly recommended you leave.)

___________________________

AXL ROSE

Y'know, Axl is willing to do it anywhere at this point. Anytime, too. But, depends on how he's feeling at the moment. He can do it backstage, dressing room(s), restaurants, in the studio, practically anywhere if you two get the chance. You guys tried doing it in a family restroom. Duff accidentally walked in on you both at one time.

He's pretty rough during sex I would say. He degrades you, calls you names, (Dumb, Slut, Whore, etc) But he can be assuring and sweet at times only if he's in a good mood. If he isn't, he's choking you and smacking ur ass making red hand prints.

He cums anywhere between ur ass, tits, and stomach. Unless you want to get pregnant, its in you. Which is what happens rarely. He's somewhat iffy about having kids with you, although he tries being sweet about it. He loves you n all, but having mini Axl's will be a bit weird.

Axl doesn't haven't many kinks, but we all saw the 'Its So Easy' music video. He likes BDSM, And that's basically it. He's willingly able to try any kink you'd want. Shit and Piss crosses the line with him though.

I think Axl is willing to share you with one of his bandmates, he would share you with Slash most likely or Duff.

Seeing you in red lingerie is what gets him going usually, but if ur talking or looking at other dudes other than him and his bandmates then he'll probably pull u aside and y'know…

SLASH HUDSON

Y'know, Sex with Slash is very like chill. You and him have very soft, sensual sex unless he's in a bad mood. When hes in a bad mood he goes wilddd. Tugging ur hair, choking you. All that dirty shit.

Breeding kink. Nuff said.

if, you don't want him inside of you, and you want it somewhere else, then its on ur ass or stomach most likely, or in ur mouth/face. He likes seeing his cum anywhere on you.

Doggy style usually or however you two end up. He doesn't mind trying new positions if ur getting bored. He's chill and open with trying new things!

He also would share you with someone like his band mates. I think he'd share you with Axl most likely. If not, Duff.

Slash is like - chill after sex. He usually apologizes a ton, and then has a smoke. He will occasionally cuddle with you.

DUFF MCKAGAN

Duff during sex, he can occasionally be rough and demanding with you, but usually he is sweet and caring for you during sex, but it's mostly the first one unless thats not what ur feeling.

Duff is very hesitant on trying new things with you sorta. He sometimes doesn't really wanna try anything and at other times its, 'Yeah, lets try that!' No in-between.

He is somewhat like Slash and Axl combined. Its chill at times, like he gets a boner and thats the go to, and other times he's like an animal like Axl. His mood has a big part in everything.

He either gets up really early and stays up super late, or Gets up super late and goes to bed early. Morning sex tends to occur occasionally and before concerts and everything. If he's on tour, phone sex bound to happen. Or he just looks thru the picture book he has of you.

He has a habit of choking you during sex to where it almost cuts ur airway off. And of course, you like it. (If you don't then he won't choke you like that, obviously.) He just can't help it.

I think Duff can be that type of dude to just casually be smoking during sex like its nothing.

IZZY STRADLIN

Y'know, I think Izzy is very laid back after and somewhat during sex. He always gets a smoke before and after. He will usually help you clean up, but he will also cuddle afterwards with you. He spoons you, practically burying you. Or he just quickly passes out afterwards and snores like there's no tomorrow. But its either, if you want to cuddle just ask him, I'm sure he'll agree to it unless something is going on or he isn't in the mood at the moment.

He is a legend, practically a god at dirty talking to you, omg. He just lets off when he starts dirty talking to you its just crazy. And he sometimes whispers sweet nothingness into ur ear and publicly flirts with you just to get you turned on the slightest by it, so when you two get home, your all ready for him.

Izzy isn't as serious during sex. He like— can crack a few smiles, and he'll laugh and joke with you at times if you fall off the bed, make weird sounds, and all that junk. But he can get really into the mood depending on his own mood. Like, he gets really into it.

He remains eye contact during sex all the time, he looks at you while ur mascara runs down ur cheeks, while you roll ur eyes back and throw ur head backwards in such pleasure that he's allowing you to experience. He love seeing ur face during sex. It reminds him of how well he treats you in a way.

He likes when you wear black, or white lingerie. It just makes him legit go nuts. Seeing the black bow peek from ur white button down gets him turned on. Seeing the white straps when he sees you.. omg.

He won't go far with whips and everything, he only uses his hand to spank you. He isn't interested in heavy bdsm like Axl, but he will pull ur hair, spit on you, call you names and everything, but he won't go far with gags, and all that. Just no.

STEVEN ADLER

Steven Is so sweet, I cannot. During sex he is so assuring and caring. He makes sure everything is okay for you and that what he is doing is alright with you. He kisses ur cheeks and lets you know that it's fine. He's very sensual too during. He holds ur hands, place lightly pink colored love marks on ur neck. But other times he's pulling ur hair, teasing you, and degrading you only the slightest.

He is cuddly after sex. He helps you of course, but other times he quickly passes out like theres no tomorrow. He loves you and wants to make sure ur okay afterwards. He is very helpful and caring, thats for sure.

Although, Steven can get a bit rough. He can start degrading you, pulling ur hair and tugging it. He'll start teasing you and messing with you. But he can get a bit submissive. He'll let you top him definitely. He'll call you mommy, and he loves when u call him good boy. He loves when u edge him.

He has a breeding kink like Slash. Nuff said there. No need to elaborate.

Steven loves public sex. He adores car sex and how people can see the car windows fog up and see you two fucking. He likes to let people know and see how he treats you most likely.

[alfiely-art]

FINISHED ACT 2!!!! I promise I'm taking my time

Act 1 live reaction here

Here are notes I took while reading!!!

Hi vagabond fella… you're cute

Huh. So the world ended. Okay

Happy birthday john, you fucked up!!!! My god!!!!

Oh interesting… wonder if the kernel will come back later

I like this sprite lmaoooo silly guy

“It's a long way down” Hey. Hey wait a sec. Isn't that deltarune

HEY THE BUNNY WHERE DID IT GO

Bro Rose probably thinks you're dead lmfaooooo

House trapped. LIKE THE TITLE HOMESTUCK DO U GET IT

Am I supposed to ignore the Stop Scurrying button btw. He will scurry to my hearts content

HEY WHERES DAD.

“Would you like to play a game?” C…caliborn….? :3

We scurried until we couldn't scurry anymore

Aw he's scared :( WALK ACROSS IT ur fine…

A voice?? Is it the blue text. The sprite

OMG ITS THE VAGABOND!!!!

Sorry rose I'm not reading allat

So wait. Did the game cause the meteors or is it just saving people from them. Why was there no warning

Betty crocker is born /j

Nvm sprite said No <3

NOT NANNAS ASHESSSSS LMAOOOO

“Hoo-hoo-hoo” HEY I SAW CALIBORN GIGGLE LIKE THAT IN A FIC. I know the Striders have more to do with Caliborn but let me reach

OH its the sprite

Dave. Honey. Nows not the time for your rap

Which admittedly has fun rhymes

AW FLUCK IT

Dave what are you yapping about

THE FUCKIHG CAR OH MY GOD

DAVE OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU STILL GOING

Fluthlu… I love you

I'm not even gonna try to spell that but I like the other squid octopus creature as well

Oglogoth… goth !!!!

Hey wait. The horror terrors are part of sburb. Is the game influenced by their lives and interests. Like. Deltarune

OH PSYCHE!!! hi Dave

Sword!!!!!!

Wow your room is really mHEY I KNOW THOSE GUYS. THATS THE FELT GUYS. SQUAREWAVE AND RHE OTHER ROBOT. I KNOW THOSE ONES!!!!! OHHHHHH

Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable

Oh Dave. Oh Dave

Hey wait is this earlier in the day.

Okay this is definitely earlier in the day

Aw. He doesn't wanna make satire of the sburb review

FUCK IM FALLING DOWN ALL THESE STAIRS……

Is that. John's hand???? what the fuck is happening in midnight crew

Flagrant Homosexuality

YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT WHITE BABY (I was told that they use slurs, slur count 2!!!!)

Her life depends on you playing that game Dave

Ewwww what's the shit under the door

It's okay Dave piss probably isn't that bad. It's also probably Apple juice You're fine

HE GOT PISS/JUICE ON HIS TURNTABLES NOOOOOO

. They're gonna fly out the window

OH MY GOD BIRD NO

Wait. Davesprite is a bird with a sword in him. Omg is that bird the beginning of Davesprite omg!!!!

Wizard

Rose and her mom are fucking weird

MOM!!!!!

Hardcore parkour

Jade be telling the future…. Why can she do that

LIL CAL MENTION

NARRATOR YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT (slur count: 3)

Ironic Indulgence

Btw. Are you able to. Win the strifes. I'm so confused

“Fine, you'll interrupt your reading and turn around, but you don't see what could possibly be so oh my god it's a monster.” Hi this is absolute gold this is how I type

John died :(

Yay he's alive!!!

YOOOOO SICKKKK AFFFFF MOVE

John is such a nerd I love him

JASPERS NOOO

Hi Nanna harlequin sprite

Dave is very suddenly creeped out by the puppets, okay. Don't diss Lil cal bro

Baked good hater for Life!!! Also I am just like John I have absolutely no idea what Nannasprite was talking about. We r along for the ride

HUMAN ETIQUETTE WOOOO I NEED THAY BOOK

Jade why do you know all this stuff

Haha Dave's an emoji

IS THAT A DRIPPED OUT SLAPPY

HI CAL HI BABYGIRL !!!! I like Cal he's the man

Sweet Bro n Hella Jeff is. I

Cals eyes are so shiny

HAHAHAHAH JOHN MADE A SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF REFERENCE. I can't

U and me both Rose. We Are giggling

John died again

What the fuck is happening at Dave's house

ROSE RAP ROSE RAP

WHSJSHSJSH THE LITTLE IMP????

What the fuck is happening

I WANT TO PLAY A GAME is this a caliborn reference. Anyway uhhh Bro is kinda weird what's going on with him

Why does he have a camera in the saw guy figurine. Bro. What's uh up with you

BRO REALLY IS A NINJA…. Whys he jusy moving Cal around

Dave. I know you said your Bro is awesome but I think he's just really weird. He's silly

I do think it's interesting. John doesn't like his dad even though his dad is great (worst thing is he ignores that his kid doesn't like betty crocker goods). Rose hates her mom, but.. for like, the wrong reasons?? Like yeah her mom’s an alcoholic and seems neglectful but she doesn't seem to do the Irony shit Rose says she does. And then Dave seems to think Bro is the absolute best even though. This is not a great situation. I wonder what Jade's family is like

Also John and Rose avoid their parents but Dave's Bro seems to avoid Dave. interesting

Anyway POOR DAVE HE GOT SMOOSHED

Hey that letter is the same as the one in the trans dirk comic I saw :0

NOOO I WANTED TO SEE BRO

Yoooo John that's a cool weapon actually

That's a big boy right there what a big boy

ROSE THE FIRE ITS AT UR WINDOW

YO WAS THAT SILHOUETTE JADE?!?!?! JADE YAAA

Big boy!!!!!!

HEY I WAS INVESTED IN SEEING JOHN FIGHT. Oh at least we can see Bro. Wait how's Rose

??? JADE???

OOP NOPE. VAGABOND

What the fuck is happening I

vagabond is so silly I like him

Hey guys I think a king hurt vagabond. Just a guess. Probably reaching idk /j

VAGABOND PISS SCENE ?!?!?! YIPPEE!!!

Oh nvm. Btw can we get this guy a burger

HES SO HAPPY OVER THE. idk what that is DANGANRONPA BLOOD IN A CAN!!!!!!

HEY WHAT THE FUCK ARE ON THESE SCREENS BTW. Wait I'm shouting so much. But what the fuck. Dave has his sprite??? Yay???? I thought he was gonna fight Bro??? What happened to Lil Cal???

Hey isn't that Jade's symbol on the pumpkin

Yooo that's such a cool cutscene actuHUH HOW IS IT THE END OF THE ACT AGAIN

The frick….

Anyway. Thoughts: I like Vagabond. Jade is mysterious. Dave gay. Bro creepy. Someone pls save Rose. John you gotta put your big boy pants on and fight those ogres. Good act!!! idk why people say the pre-trolls stuff is boring I'm enjoying myself

[itsyourstarboy]

Streamer!Honey Headcanons Pt.5

First Part

AT LONG LAST.... THE STREAMER!HONEY HEADCANONS FINALE

Note: This may be the last part, but it is not the end of Streamer!Honey!!! Just the long-winded headcanon posts. I have more planned for the future ^^ mini-fics, shitposts, all sorts of shenanigans <3

—

The punch became a meme. Honey hates it, and Guy hates that Honey hates it.

But god if it isn’t hilarious.

It took a good few months for Honey to stop beating themself up over it, and now they are able to look back on it and laugh. They even have a GIF of the moment as an alert for gifted subs.

—

Charity streams!!! Honey loves doing them. It’s fun, and for a good cause.

And, though it’s fun, sometimes it can get out of hand.

It was meant to be a joke! But, before they knew it, they hit the donation goal...

♡♡♡♡♡♡

HFDJSFEJGGFJSK

IM FREAKING OUT

CANTWAITCANTWAITCANTWAIT

I can’t believe they’re actually doing this 🤭🤭🤭

I DONT KNOW IF MY GAY LITTLE HEART WILL BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT

The sound of the door opening made chat go mostly still.

Honey, very reluctantly with an embarrassed scowl on their face, stepped into camera view.

They stood stiffly, pondering how they ended up here. Here, on stream, in front of thousands of perfect strangers...

Wearing a maid outfit.

Not even a comfortable one! It was frilly, and itchy, and the skirt was way too fucking short.

OMFGNO I FCKING CANT-

🤣🤣🤣🤣

I CANT BREATHE

OH MY GOOOOOOOD

You look so cute!!!

THIS WAS SO WORTH THE MONEY

IM WHEEZING AND I CANT FIND MY INHALERR

HSGJJFHZJAHHAHAHAH

Oh 😳😳

WHY IT LOOK KINDA GOOD THO??

[HONEY’S] TOO HOT THEY KILLED SOMEBODY

“I hate everything,” Honey muttered, as they tried to tug the dress down. It was bad enough that it was so revealing, but it also wouldn’t zip up all the way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It would only get worse, however, as the next goal would add thigh highs.

And the one after that would add...

SAY NYA RIGHT FUCKING NOW

AaaaawwwWWWW WHAT A CUTE KITTY

You mean “right fucking meow?”

THEY LOOK SO PISSED LMAO

SAY NYA RIGHT FUCKING MEOW

They’re gonna kill us 😭😭😭😭

IM QUEER

With what? Their wittle paws?? 😽😽

This is my phone lockscreen now

Simp

“Yeah, you all better enjoy this, ‘cause I’m never doing it again.”

Doubt it, this is the fastest we’ve ever raised money

NOOOOOOOOO

Still waiting for you to say nya

NYAAAAAANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA

ITS THE CIIIIIIIIRRRRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIFEEE

“I’m not saying that.”

tf you’re not-

★someone donated $50★

SAY NYA BITCH

Honey heaved out a sigh that bordered a growl, and very blandly, “nya.”

As Chat cheered and went practically feral, Honey could only be glad that this couldn’t possibly get any wors-

They froze as they heard the Jaws theme start playing.

“Oh f-”

HE’S HEEEERE

YEEEEEEEESS

HoneysHeaven: wowah 😳

THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER

HOLY CRAP SOMEONE TAGGED HIM ON TWITTER 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

HoneyHeaven: hey there Honey ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

SOMEONE SNITCHED????

Honey braced their elbows on their desk and hid their face in their hands. “Go back to working.”

HoneysHeaven: I will if you promise to still be wearing that when I get home 👀👀

“I’m burning it as soon as this stream ends.”

NOO YOU CANT BURN IT YOU LOOK SO SEXYY 😩😩

The boy just wants to see you all dolled up Boo, let him have his treat

“The next 15 minutes are going to be hell.”

HoneysHeaven: oooh the next goal you put on a collar, hm? 😏😏

Guy ur killing even me rn

OH WAIT I JUST GOT GUYS USERNAME

HoneysHeaven: Honey can you send me like $70

“I am not sending you money.”

HoneysHeaven: awww cmon 🥺🥺 my break ends in 2 minutes I just want to see you in a collar

ITS FOR CHARITY

DONATE TO THE CAUSE

“I’ll put you in a collar,” Honey grumbled with their arms crossed tightly.

HoneysHeaven: wouldn’t be the first time 😉

HOW DO WE RAISE ANOTHER 500 IN 10 MINUTES

AYO WHAT????

—

Guy likes interrupting Honey’s streams unprompted. He loves seeing the smile on their face. The gentle one that they wear while doing what they love. It makes him want to smother them in kisses.

Sometimes when he does this, he forgets about the mask and glasses. There have been plenty of times where he’s nearly accidentally exposed his face to the world, and it gives his honey a mini heart attack each time.

Honey made the executive decision to rearrange their setup so that the door was no longer in view. That way, Guy could spontaneously enter as much as he pleased.

—

Honey was still streaming when Guy returned home from work. They had told him in advance that this stream would be dragging on a bit longer than normal.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Honey looked up as they heard the door click open. Guy entered, waving a paper bag around.

“Honeeeey,” he sang, “I’ve brought you somethiiiiing.”

is that the boy i hear 👀👀👀

EVERYONE SHUT UP I NEED TO WITNESS THIS

DETROIT CAN WAIT THIS IS IMPORTANT

Honey eyed the bag skeptically as Guy drew closer, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Guy laughed, stopping right outside of the camera’s view. “I brought you donuts!”

“Ooh, really? What’s your motive?”

“Wha-? Motive!? Why do you think I would have a motive?”

Honey raised an eyebrow at their boyfriend and smirked.

Immensely offended, Guy scoffed, “what, am I not allowed to bring the most important person in my life a treat? Purely out of my own volition and the kindness of my heart?”

“I was joking before, but now I’m actually suspicious...”

“Just take the donuts, Honey,” Guy softly spoke with a warm smile, holding out the bag and leaning forward.

When Honey’s hand brushed against his own, Guy leaned closer, his other hand cupping the back of their neck. He held the bag up to hide his face from viewers as he placed a gentle kiss on his partners cheek.

Honey, growing ever more flustered, let out a nervous chuckle as they pushed Guy away and accepted the gifts.

AWWWWHDWSAIHDGDKDSBIDS

ITS HAPPENING

OMG

NO

DID HE KISS THEM??

WHERE IS THE CLIP I NEED TO SEE THAT AGAIN

When you’re so lonely you’re living vicariously through someone in your screen

UH YEAH THATS THE POINT

OF COURSE

I GOT THE CLIP I GOT IT

Chat wouldn’t stop talking about it for the entire rest of the stream.

And for the next 4 streams after that...

—

Chat knows that Guy is important to Honey. No other roommate of theirs has ever become such a big part of their life, everyone knows that they have to be something more.

They stopped bugging Honey about it after a year. It's just kind of common knowledge that these two have a lot of chemistry, but asking straight up about their relationship won't work.

Not that having an answer would change anything, Chat loves seeing how happy Honey is with Guy.

—

It took a little over a year for Honey to agree, but finally they are streaming a game with Guy!!

They're playing Raft. Honey in their streaming room, and Guy in the living room. They're communicating through discord, and Chat is having a blast.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Did you finish building that engine yet?" Honey asked, filling a chest with some items.

"No, I thought you were going to do it," Guy answered.

"I literally told you to go ahead and make one two minutes ago!"

"I was busy distracting the shark while you were scavenging all that shit underwater!"

We should get them couples counciling

Guy can't keep being shark bait ooh ah ah 😭😭

I still don't understand the point of this game

It's his destiny

Raft

raft

The point is raft

RAFT

"Honey, I think I'm dying. My hunger bar is low."

"Then eat something, we have plenty of food."

"I don't think I can make it back in time," Guy whined.

"Wh- where are you??"

You could practically hear Guy's pout, "I went back on the island because you were mad at me."

"I am not mad at you," Honey responded, exasperated, "where are you at on the island?"

"Uhmm... I'm in a place with lots of trees."

"Okay, I'm bringing you some shark meat."

"The shark is dead?"

"Yeah I killed it."

[HONEY] MOVE FASTER WE CANT LET HIM DIE

They are playing the game so wrong I am ripping my hair out

Tip: multiple sails will make you go faster

They can play however they want to 😡

The only right way to do anything is the [Honey] and Guy way

"Oh shi-" Guy started, "I'm dead."

"You're fiiine."

"No, my character just collapsed from hunger."

"Don't be dramatic, I'm almost there."

"I'm not being dramatic!! I died!!!"

"A little death never killed anybody."

Honey found Guy's character, limp on the ground, and picked him up.

"Alright, you big baby, I'll take you to the bed."

"Oooooh," Guy sang impishly, "you're carrying me to bed?"

"Yep."

"What are you gonna do with me once we get there?"

"When we get there, you are gonna build that goddamn engine!"

Upon arrival to the raft, Honey discovered something...

"Where the fuck is the bed??"

Guy coughed out a laugh, "oh, uhm- I might've taken it with me when I left."

"Why would you do that!?!?"

"Because you were mad at me!!!"

"I swear to god-" Honey dropped Guy's carcass on the raft and went to collect materials to make another bed.

"Honeeeeey," Guy whined, "this wooden floor is hard."

Honey sighed, "I'm making you a bed, hold on."

"Come lay underneath meeee."

AGDKSGAKBFK

Boi he wants them under him 👀👀

Can't believe they let Guy die, I'll never forgive them for this 😢🤧😖 /lh /j

Our boy really stepped up his flirting game 😳😳😳

Too bad [Honey] is too oblivious

They're not oblivious, they're an asshole

A distinct sound of sharp teeth chomping into their hard work caught Honey's attention.

"Fuckin' hell," they murmured, "the stupid shark is back."

"Hurry up making the bed and I can kill it," Guy offered.

"I thought you were making the bed," Honey retorted.

Guy scoffed, "Honey!!!!"

"I gotta stab the shark, hold on."

Cold blooded

Yeah

They don't deserve Guy I'm gonna kidnap him

That shark is an endangered species!!!

DoNT YOU DARE GUYNAP OUR BELOVED BOY

Finally, finally, Honey returned and placed Guy's character on the bed. He sprang up immediately.

Guy's cheerful voice started up, "yayyy, thank you Hone-" and was cut off with a yelp.

The shark had glitched through the bottom of the raft and attack Guy. It scared him half to death, but Honey?

Honey was laughing hysterically.

And it was music to Guy's ears.

Gasping for breath, they kept trying to say something, but continuously fell into a fit of giggles.

Guy was barely able to form his own words without laughing, trying to feign offense at his honey's joy in seeing him hurt. But hearing them laugh so heartily? He couldn't help but melt.

And he didn't want to just hear it, he wanted to see it.

"I'm coming to get you, Honey!" He announced, just before darting towards their room.

"No, no no!" They tried to object, but it was too late as Guy came bursting in.

They were in his arms and on the floor in an instant, tears streaming down their face as they tried to breathe.

Their face hurt from smiling, and they tried to calm down, but as soon as their breathing slowed Guy started to tickle them.

"Guy-! No!! Stop it!" They squealed and squirmed, but to no avail. Their previous laughing fit left them exhausted.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I feel like we shouldn't be watching this

HES SO CUTE????

GUY FACE REVEAL!!!!!

EVERYONE SHIELD YOUR EYES

TURN OFF YOUR DEVICES THIS IS ILLEGAL

Wait I think I've seen him before!

When all settled down, Guy and Honey were nothing but a mess of tangled limbs on the floor, just barely out of frame.

"I love you, Honey," he said softly.

Honey smiled, "I love you too."

—

When the couple realized that Guy was no longer anonymous, Honey made him start carrying pepper spray while he worked.

Gotta keep the boy safe.

The End.

A/N: Thank you for reading the Streamer!Honey series ♡ I've loved writing it, and it makes me so happy that you all loved it as well!

[nutal]

URGH NEW GUITARSPEAR (multichaptered ???) fic idea hear me out IM GONNA YAP SO MUCH also for convenience sake, Eve isn’t existing in this universe LMAO also warnings for like abuse n shit

But like it’s a human/modern au and Adam’s with Lilith, and they’ve been married for a while now. Lilith’s always been a little manipulative, but now she’s gotten subtly abusive almost, very demanding and Adam suspects she’s cheating too. One night she straight up just kicks him out of the house for that night saying he can find his own place to sleep because she’s not willing to share a bed with him nor even let him on the couch after a heated argument. He resists heavily, but only gets way too much slack for it there’s no way he can stay with that psychotic bitch admittedly.

He’s obviously really pissed the fuck off, but he ends up walking out late near the suburbs, ending at a nearby park. When he’s there, he finds Lute!! And she’s also alone, just by herself, sitting on a bench seeming really irritated/isolated herself due to her annoying ass roommate vaggie. He’s got nothing better to do so he tries talking her up a bit, and the conversation veers into smth like this:

“Shit, you seem fun. What’s your name?”

“Lute.”

“Lute? Weird name but sick as hell.”

“What are you doing here?” she snapped.

“Oh, so you’re not even gonna ask me my name back?”

She sighed. “What’s your name?”

Or like smth like that and then they explain their issues to each other, mainly adam to lute and while she’s very hesitant of him at first she is admittedly curious as well. And then eventually she’s like, “wait I think I recognize you” and then he’s like “Yeah? With a face like mine I’m hard to miss” or smth like that and she’s like “ur that guy from the band that sometimes plays at the bar I go to” and he’s like “well shit, that’s me. You should come see us more, we fucking rock” and then they just keep yapping til morning getting familiar with each other until adam like passes out, and she has to wake him up.

Back at home, Lilith’s behavior jus keeps getting worse until Adam finds out for good she actually IS cheating when she catches her in bed with Lucifer. The next time Lute shows up to the bar, she sees Adam and tries to catch him after the show, asking him how everything is and he explains what happened over a cig and lowkey? She’s pissed because she gets what it’s like to be betrayed like that then have to live with it bc of how Vaggie constantly acts. So, she ends up helping him out, even eventually offering him a place to stay in her apartment for a while after some time with lots of precautions at first until theyre more comfy with each other. Also Vaggie is so angry with this its lowkey funny and then they just give her shit for it LMAO

THEN as adam and lute spend more time together, unexpected feelings get involved and when they finally accept it, they entertain a revenge cheat thing. Like if Lilith’s gonna cheat on him? Fuck it, he’ll do it back, and then he divorces her after she finds out so she can get a taste of her own medicine. Around like a month passes and after some legal proceedings, he gets the rights to the old marital house and lets Lute hang around there sometimes, also letting her crack out on some of the property he was able to get too. And boy is it satisfying when they take advantage of that same bed Adam caught Lilith and Lucifer in one time. Revenge coming full circle.

MY BAD FOR THE HUGE YAP SESSION COULDNT HELP MYSELF obviously a lotta details might change but heres this random ass premise i stirred up at *literally* 1:00AM thanks for reading this whole shitshow if u somehow made it this far im literally gonna write this i swear i cant wait

[aphroditeinthesea]

Heyyyy, can I request a Cinnor Stoll x fme!reader?

Can can you by and chance make her a mortal where he meets her by accident whike runs from her abusive family..?

All good if you can't! And fic of Connor is good!!

“ you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me? ”

connor stoll x fem!reader 🐍

a/n this is kinda a concerning request but hope ur okay xx

⚠️ mentions of abuse and swearing

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Seven hours. That’s how long she had been away from home and already her heart was racing. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should just turn around and pretend like she got lost or something.

She currently sat alone in a crowded cafe she had come across in a town a few hours away from her hometown. Nobody she knew would be here. Her heart raced though when she realized how vulnerable she was currently.

All alone in a strange place. She had some money she had saved and some she stole from her parents’ stash in the attic. It was enough to last her for who knows how long. But not enough if she wanted this to work.

“Hey, are you y/n?”

She looked up to see a boy about her age standing in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, “maybe, why?”

“Sorry, I think I got your drink by accident.”

“Oh,” she looked at his hands that were holding an iced coffee with her name misspelled in sharpie, “yeah, that’s mine.”

He leaned over the table to hand it to her, “I didn't drink it or anything, I jus thought it was a different drink.” Of course he wasn't going to say that he went in there with the thought of stealing a random drink that was yet to be claimed.

She took a sip and her face scrunched, “oh this sucks ass.”

He laughed, “what?”

“This coffee, it tastes like they got it out the sewers.”

“Glad I didn't try to steal it then.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

She shook her head, “I should be leaving anyways.” Not that she had anywhere ot go.

“Wait!” He paused, “wait, I mean, there's a great coffee shop down the street. Trust me its way better than here.”

She looked at him for a second. She thought about her choices here. Leave and have no where to go or hang out more with this cute guy who for some reason wants her to have a good coffee. “Lead the way.”

He grinned as he led her out of the door, holding it open for her. As they began walking down the sidewalk, he looked over at her, “are you new around here?”

“You could say that,” she mentioned.

“What does that mean?” He replied, confused.

She sighed, “I’m new here.”

He nodded, “cool, where are you from?”

“A few hours away, I just,” she looked over at him, “I wanted out of my hometown.”

“Oh,” he stayed silent for a second before speaking again after realizing, “did you run away?”

She laughed softly before nodding, “ding ding ding!”

“Woah,” he responded, trying to comprehend, “you're not like a serial killer or something, right?”

“Just one,” she joked.

“Perfect, because if it was more then that might be an issue.”

She smiled and looked down at her feet on the ground before hearing his voice again, “here it is.”

She looked up at the coffee shop. It had a large pink sign reading “Dolly’s Donuts.” It was a quaint little place that was painted while with a few teal accents on the windows. After a few moments, she spoke up, “why are we just standing here?”

He didn't look at her as he answered, “I’m banned from here.”

She laughed, “you’re what?”

“I might’ve somehow schemed them out of a few dozen donuts.” He added, “I’m banned from a few places around here. Not all for stealing, some because they cant handle a joke or two.”

“Wow, a criminal.” As she began walking towards thw entrance, he stopped her again.

“Wait a second, please?”

She grinned, “alright.”

He nodded, and snuck over to a next door store with an outdoor display of baseball caps and sunglasses. He snuck on a blue cap with matching blue glasses before making his way over to her.

“Okay, let's go.”

“They wont recognize you like that?” She retorted sarcastically.

“Connor Stoll is gone, hello Stonnor Coll.”

“Your name's Connor?”

“Yeah, sorry, forgot to mention that.”

“Well, come on, Stonnor,” she flicked her hand, motioning for him to come. He followed behind her as they made their way into the shop.

“Welcome to Dolly’s, what can I get for you?”

Y/N looked over at Connor, “what do you recommend, Ston?”

“Two vanilla lattes, please,” he replied in a deepened voice. “And, uh, some extra whipped cream for the little lady here.”

The barista nodded before walking away. Y/N swatted his arm, “little lady?”

He grimaced, “yeah, I have no idea where that came from.” He looked over the display box where they had laid a few donuts, while the barista wasn't looking, he grabbed two of the donuts, hiding them in napkins that were out nearby, “here put these in your bag.”

“Seriously?”

“They're worth it, trust me.”

She rolled her eyes and took the donuts, slipping them into her tote. When the barista came back over, Connor causally grabbed the drinks, handing one to y/n and holding the otreh in his hand.

“Anything else for today?”

“Actually, just a,” before he finished, he grabbed y/n’s arm and dragged her out of the restaurant at full speed.

“Connor!” she called as she nearly spilt her drink. He smirked and he led them to a gazebo out of sight of the shop.

As they came to a stop, neither of them could breathe from both laughing adn the bolting.

“That was so fucking fun,” she breathed out, clutching to hold her stomach. He watched her in amusement as she leaned back up to look at him. She took a sip of the latte before her eyes widened, “wow, that totally was worth the robbery.”

“Right?” He chuckled.

She turned to grab the donuts out of her bag until he spoke again, “what’s that?”

“What?”

“On your,” he leaned closer and moved some of her hair, “your eye?”

“Oh,” oh. She breathed deeply, “that's just uhm, it’s from, well.”

“Is that why you were running away?”

She stayed silent and just looked at the wooden floor of the gazebo.

“Shit,” he sighed, backing up, “are you okay?”

Her eyes met his again, “right now, yeah.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“No, I just,” she hesitated, “I just wanted out.”

“Here,” he grabbed her hand to get her to sit down with him on the ground. She obliged, sitting criss-cross applesauce across from him, their knees touching. He took a breath, “let’s have some donuts, yeah?”

And, yeah, for right now, she was okay.