#as one of the options for what kind of story content that players wanted

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Thank you Pokemas once again for inventing new cross-generational friendships and interactions.

[zegrasdrysdale]

“shh! they’ll hear us”

with nico hischier

part of the 1k celly event

summary : Nico and his girlfriend host a Christmas party on the eve of the holiday for the Devils before their roadie begins right after Christmas

warning(s) : nsfw ! sexual content, fingering, oral (f receiving), public teasing, dirty talk

author’s note : happy holidays to all who celebrate ! decided that my gift to y'all is another installment of the 1k celly series. enjoy whatever holiday you and your family celebrate <33

༺──────────────༻

Something is wrong with Nico.

Not physically wrong, but he’s just acting different. This behavior didn’t start until his teammates and coaches began showing up at their loft apartment for the party they’re hosting for the Devils players and staff. She been playing captain's girlfriend and has answered every doorbell then began making rounds to greet each player and coach.

All while Nico keeps a hand on her.

Her boyfriend isn’t usually the one to be affectionate in public so his hand constantly being on some part of her body is throwing her off her game. She’s more focused on his touch than conversing with her guests.

She doesn’t know what brought on this side of Nico, but she kind of likes it. She’s always wanted to be more affectionate around their friends and family, but Nico was never a huge fan and she didn't push it. All eyes were already on her since she's Nico's girlfriend so early on, she didn't care.

Right now though, she's curious.

Coach Keefe and his family arrive last, which signals the end of her time greeting teammates and coaches that arrive at their apartment for the party. She focuses on conversing with her guests and making sure everyone is okay.

What usually feels like a very large apartment feels very small at the moment. There is an entire NHL team scattered throughout the loft with their families. She can't even escape to the kitchen like she often does when there are so many people because there is a catering group preparing the meal.

Nico doesn't leave her side as they socialize amongst the players and coaches in attendance. He doesn't stop touching her either. He rests a hand on her waist or on her lower back now that they've started to have longer conversations and not running to the door to answer it.

Okay, that's very different. His behavior is making her very curious. It makes her wonder if there is something going on that he's not telling her.

Dinner is served around six. A mix of vegan and non-vegan options so everyone has something to eat. They've brought in extra tables and chairs so the adults can fit around the dining room table. Within their parents' eyesight, the kids sit at a smaller table together to eat. They are out of earshot though so the adults can have conversations that little ears shouldn't hear.

Her first serving is lasagna. It's probably the best lasagna she’s ever had. Perfect cheese to sauce to pasta ratio. Some of everything in every bite she takes. She lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she chews the bite.

Nico laughs beside her as he eats some of the steak he grabbed. “That good?” he asks with a grin.

“So good, Nico,” she tells him with a full mouth. “Oh my God. We are absolutely going to get this catering group again next time we host a party. Fuck.”

He laughs again and takes another bite of his steak.

She begins a conversation with Kristen Haula on her left side. The women talk about how well the boys have played, complimenting the other’s significant other as they talk. Their laughs are among others as small talk continues at the table.

Everyone’s plates are nearly empty about a half an hour later. Erik has jumped into her conversation with his wife while Nico converses with Jack and Luke on the other side of him.

Yet, his hand comes down on her knee under the table cloth. She folds her hands and holds them in front of her mouth as she presses her lips into a line. She listens to the Haulas share a story about their kids, and Nico’s hand slides up her thigh to the hem of her skirt.

Bold considering his teammates and coaches surround him. If any of them see him, he’s probably going to be incredibly embarrassed since it’s very rare that he’s this affectionate in public. Even in his own apartment.

She doesn’t stop him though. She should, but she lets him keep going. Even after his finger dip under the hem of her tight skirt. Her teeth pull at her bottom lip behind her hands. She begins to tune out the story that Kristen is telling her, focusing on Nico’s touch that moves closer to her uncovered core. Yes, she decided to go without a pair of panties because they would have shown through her dress via lines. Her dress is skin tight and she didn’t think she’d be doing much leaning over.

Little did she know that Nico’s fingers would be inches away from said core while his teammates and coaches sit at the table around him. She didn’t think that Nico would try to do this while at the table with his friends.

His fingers trace shapes under the skirt, teasing her since they’re so close to her core. She can feel butterflies begin to flutter in the pit of her stomach, the possibility of getting caught like this turning her on.

She’s about to make a comment about the story that the Haulas shared when Nico’s fingers dip between her crossed legs and graze her clit. His fingers run between her folds and dips into her.

She gasps at the action and covers her mouth as if she let out a hiccup.

“I, um …” she trails off as Nico shallowly fingers her. “I’m going to run to the ladies room very quickly. Excuse me.” She pushes her chair back and Nico’s hands slides out from under her skirt.

As normally as she can, she disappears down the hallway toward the bedroom she shares with Nico. She closes the door and leans against the wood. She clears her throat and lets out a heavy sigh.

The feeling of Nico’s hand between her legs is still there and she presses her thighs together to get some kind of friction.

Why would he do that? Now of all times? He has every opportunity in the world to finger her and he does it at Christmas Eve dinner with his team around him?

Something is wrong with Nico.

A soft knock rings throughout the empty room. She is quick to turn and open the bedroom door, coming face to face with her boyfriend.

“You are insane, you know that?” she questions. “God. If anyone saw what you were doing-”

“Good thing no one did then.”

He steps into the room and shuts the door with a click. Her mind races a thousand miles a second as Nico looks at her. “You are genuinely the craziest person I have ever met,” she reiterates.

“Mhm,” Nico hums as he takes a step toward her. “Tell me more.”

She takes a step back every time he takes a step toward her. “You did all that for what?” she asks. “You go from rarely every touching me or holding my hand to putting your fingers inside me at a table filled with your coaches and teammates. If that was your way of telling me that you want to be more affectionate in front of people then good job-”

Her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she is forced to sit when she falls. She looks up at Nico, who nudges her knees apart and stands between them.

“Are you done?” he asks as he traces her jaw with the game fingers he had inside her a few minutes ago. “Or are you going to let me finish what I started at the table?”

Heat rushes to her cheeks when Nico mentions the table. She nods in response to his question.

Nico sinks to his knees in front of her. Her eyes track his moment as he pushes her knees apart to get a perfect view of her glistening core. His lip drags across his bottom lip before he presses a trail of kisses up her thigh from her knee.

“Oh my God,” she gasps when his lips touch her core. She leans back and props herself up on her elbows. She drops her head back at the same time Nico pushes her skirt up so it pools around her waist.

His tongue runs through her soaked folds and she sighs at the feeling. Nico hasn’t shaved in a few days either so it feels really good to have his mouth on her. She arches her back when Nico’s tongue pushes inside of her.

“Fuck!” she cries out. “Nico!”

“Shh!” Nico tells her. “They’ll hear us. You need to be a little more quiet. Or I’ll have no choice but to stop and leave you like this.”

She shakes her head and Nico smiles up at her before he puts his mouth on her core. Her jaw drops when he slips a finger inside of her. It takes everything to not cry out his name again as he fingers her closer to her inevitable orgasm.

Between his mouth and his fingers, it won’t be long until she comes anyway.

Nico slowly works her closer to the edge, quickening and slowing his pace to keep her from coming before he’s ready to let her. She’s a panting mess under his touch and the knot in her stomach tightens to the point where it’s almost painful.

Her legs shake where they rest on Nico’s shoulders. She looks down and finds Nico looking up at her through his eyelashes.

His fingers curl in a ‘come here’ motion inside her at the same time he sucks on her clit. “Fuck,” she sighs. “Fuck, Neeks. Wanna come. Wanna make a mess on your face and fingers. Please, please please please. Wanna come.”

“Come then,” he mumbles against her sensitive skin. “You wanna make a mess on my face? Then come, baby.”

It only takes a few more curls of his fingers and sucks on her clit before she’s coming. Her entire body tenses as she comes. She cries out his name in soft whispers so their guests don’t hear her. Her vision whitens and she sees stars behind closed eyes.

Her body melt into the mattress beneath her. She whines at the loss of contact. Her legs drop off his shoulders as he stands up. He grabs something to clean her up. She sits up when he’s done, grabbing his waist before he has a chance to clean his face.

With wobbly legs, she stands up and wraps her arms around his neck. “Come here,” she breathes out. Nico smiles and leans down, initiating a soft kiss. She hums when she tastes herself on his lips. She deepens the kiss a bit and runs her fingers through his hair.

“What you did at the table was kind of hot,” she mumbles against his lips. “The idea of getting caught with your fingers inside me kind of turned me on. I won’t lie to you.”

Nico grins and pulls back from the kiss.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

༺──────────────༻

MASTERLIST | 1K CELLY EVENT

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[sanguinesky-if]

Sanguine Sky

DEMO [Public] [Updated 07/12/2024] genres: romance, modern-fantasy, supernatural, mystery, dark-fantasy.

Sanguine Sky is a work-in-progress modern dark-fantasy interactive novel. The story is heavily focused on romance, characters, and relationships.

The story rated 18+, contains mature and distressing content that may be triggering to certain individuals. It is recommend to check the full list of warnings before you proceed to the story. Please exercise caution and take care of yourself.

Total word count: 197k words [excl. code] | 227k words [incl. code].

You are a detective, tasked with investigating mysterious murders that have taken place in your normally quiet and peaceful hometown, Fallenmor. 

With two victims confirmed already, the initial one being your former mentor, Detective Bergmann, the situation couldn't seem more dire. Or so you thought until you received the news of another body, a possible third victim, discovered at the police station. In your very own office. 

An accident, a mere coincidence, a straightforward warning, a looming threat, or something entirely else… Whatever is happening, you feel it affecting you, awakening something both significantly familiar and distinctly foreign inside of you.

If only you knew that this was just the beginning… Things could have been different. 

But back then, in your ignorance, your singular concern lay with a pressing question: if you failed to find the murderer, who would become the next victim?

➤ Play as male, female, non-binary or trans; straight, gay, or bisexual.

➤ Customize your appearance and shape your personality.

➤ Take on the role of a detective, immerse yourself in the work of the police station.

➤ Embrace the mystery of your existence, or reject that inner sight of you.

➤ Seven romance options to choose from. Select their gender, be shy or bold, or focus on your goal without pursuing anyone.

All ROs are player-sexual and gender-selectable [M/F].

Kyle / Keira Moreno

Your colleague, a police inspector, and one of the rudest people you have ever met. Sharp and stern, K is surprisingly perceptive, and they use it to really see you. The good, the bad. Everything. Appearance: icy blue eyes, dark red hair, very pale skin.

Alexis 'Lex / Lexie' Conlan

Your best friend, and also your former partner from times when you were just a patrol officer. With a heart of gold and an approachable attitude, L always chooses you over the others. Appearance: forest green eyes, copper hair, beige freckled skin.

Morgan Schoivell

Your other colleague, a highly-skilled lab technician. M is rather reserved when it comes to emotions, and after almost a year of working together, M is still a walking mystery for you. Appearance: dark brown eyes, ash blond hair, light skin.

Roderick / Rebecca Reyes

The commanding agent of the Criminal Investigative Division (CID) team sent to catch the killer. Overbearing and ruthless, R has their own way of getting things done. Appearance: gray eyes, blond hair, pale skin.

Theodore 'Theo' / Theresa 'Tess' Vazquez

Another member of the CID team. With a cocky smile, T is full of flirts and sneering comments, regardless of the occasion. T has no doubts about what they want and isn't afraid to vocalize it. Appearance: dark green eyes, black curly hair, rich brown skin.

Isaac / Iris Brailsford

I looks the most mature and approachable of CID's fellow agents. Looks can be deceiving, though. Working behind the scene and watching from afar, I carries all the scars within. Appearance: hazel eyes, dark brown hair, olive skin.

Sebastian / Selena Goldstein

Someone new and temporary, S has a velvety voice and a perfect smile that doesn't reach their eyes. You're not sure if your paths will cross in the future, but something tells you S can't be trusted. Appearance: black eyes, long black wavy hair, bronze skin.

Other notable characters:

Your twin-sister: Your sweet, kind, caring, and gentle twin sister. She always tries to be there for you, and show how much she appreciates you, no matter what. Chief of Police, Kendrick Nash: Your boss, who is not handling his job so well after the recent death of his husband, Klemens Bergmann. Detective Klemens Bergmann: Police chief's husband, who happened to be a senior detective and your mentor. He was the first victim, murdered under mysterious circumstances.

A full list of warnings is available in the demo before beginning of the story. I recommend to check it before you proceed to reading.

Links: DEMO | CoG Forum | Q&A | Romance | Tags & Links | Patreon | Ko-Fi | Error Reports |

Thank you for your interest ♥

[ofjunemoment]

let me teach you how to smash | park jisung

In the list of sports, ranked from most to least sexy, badminton would be found at the very bottom if not ranked last. But why is it that when Jisung plays the with a feathered shuttle your heart flutters? 

 OR: Jisung helps you improve your badminton skills. 

 pairing — badminton player!jisung x fem!reader 

 genre — sports!au, university!au, (one sided) enemies to friends to lovers, slight slow burn 

 wc — 22k (😀 huh)

content — university/sports class setting, humour, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst,  idols mentioned, very heavy on the dialogue/backstory at one point sorry babies <3, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags — making out, fingering, switch!jisung and reader (there's no strong dynamic tbh), protected sex, pet names (jisung gets called a good boy), lmk if I missed anything!

 a/n — YAYYY i can finally share this with u guys!! i have been cooking this for some time and im actually so excited to release it!! I'm a badminton enthusiast so I went a bit ham on the descriptions and back story sorry (not rlly),, I hope this is a good readdd I read through it so much to fix it up and now Im a bit sick of it oops BUT its a story I've been wanting to write so here you go <3 enjoy!

sfw version here!

You enjoy sports. 

You liked dancing sometimes — which is certainly a type of sport  — and you dabbled with different sports at one point in school, but you don’t actively go out of your way to do any intense exercise. It can be sweaty and painful and maybe it’s a little like hitting the gym, but in most sports you need sportsmanship, and why would you be kind to the person who not only won but is rubbing it in your face? 

You once yelled at Taeyong for kicking the ball in the wrong goal when your group of friends went out of their way to play makeshift soccer to bring back memories. You yelled, at precious Taeyong, who flinches at the sight of a fly

Okay, so you tolerate sports.

But in an effort to have your resume look pretty after finishing your degree, your friend Juda had shed light on this one program that has you do a bunch of extracurricular activities and in turn, you’ll gain extra credit. Seamless and effortless, you didn’t need to pay anything towards the program as most of the work was volunteering; like reading to kids or helping clean up lecture rooms now and then. What Juda failed to mention was the other extracurricular required of you, which was to go to a sporting class set up by the university.

Sporting classes; two hours a week minimum.

They were kind enough to provide you with options, but it still wasn't easy to choose whether you wanted two whole hours of HIIT fitness or football, which caused you to almost give up on the whole thing. Until you saw the word ‘badminton’ printed in the faintest ink, almost as if it was a mistake.

So here you are, in the campus’ sports equipment shop with Chenle, looking through what seems like badminton rackets.

“Do you think this is good?” You pick up a racket that has a mix of matte white and mint around the frame, with the string sporting the shade black, testing the weight in your hand. 

“That’s a tennis racket stupid.” He goes to ruffle your hair but instead gets his hand slapped away and a frown etched on his face as you scoff at him. “I knew that,”  You scowl.

“Well then don’t be an asshole about it, asshole.”

“I wasn’t being—” Both of you jump at a sudden sound that pitched in between your shoulders, as your hand flies to your chest in shock while Chenle’s eyebrow hitch up.

“Sorry?” It was Chenle who said that to the person who snuck up behind you two, his arms crossing defensively and landing on his left chest, as he positions himself subtly a little closer to you, almost as if he’s instinctively shielding him.

“Ah, sorry for surprising you; I just came to ask if you guys needed help with anything?” It was when the employee raised her ID card that was hanging on a white lanyard around her neck that Chenle’s defence began to soften as you brought your hand down, replacing the confused look on your faces with one of realisation.

“Ahh, uhm, I was wondering if you could recommend a badminton racket, nothing too fancy, maybe something to last a good two years.”

“Two years?” Chenle was the one that turned to you with a look of disbelief. The employee merely smiled and gestured her hands towards the very other side of the store and quickly turned to guide you.

“Hold on, you’re doing this stupid thing for two years? Half of your courses years? You’re just gonna voluntarily stress yourself with even more work?”

“ . . . Yes? I don’t know what to tell you, that’s my main intention. That’s why I joined this program. You’ve asked me multiple times like I’m going to miraculously change my mind and thank you for it like you’re a rich person, giving me, a homeless person, a piece of bread and then barely look at me as you record the whole thing for your livestream.” You huff while going to lie down on your back on the floor around your newly bought badminton equipment; a set of badminton rackets and some cylinder packets full of shuttlecocks, the feather ones because the plastic ones suck ass, the employee had smiled at you.

You sit up just as quickly as a dull pain shoots up your back. The motherfucking shuttlecocks.

“That’s one way to make up an analogy,” Chenle’s eyes land on the shuttlecock you had freshly crushed, now looking all squashed and disoriented. Poor thing didn’t even last a minute.

“What’s she moping about this time?” Juda’s voice echoed from the door as she places the tote bag she had brought down next to the shoe shelf.

“I’m not moping; I never mope. What do I even look like when I mope?”

“She’s just crying about the fact that she has to do this thing program for another two years.” His words elicit a shout and the gradual flinging of a nearby couch pillow from you. Chenle’s neck cracked as the pillow hit his head downwards.

“Did I kill him yet,” You voiced your disinterest, sitting up on your elbows briefly to analyse Chenle’s face before giving up and laying back down. Chenle stayed in that position for a while before getting up in a fury, ready to avenge you. Juda stopped him with a kick to his leg. 

“Such disrespectful words, is it hard to show some courtesy around here?” You huff and go to lie down once more, not before feeling around the surface for any stray shuttlecock.

“When it comes to you, yes,” Juda throws Chenle a Yakult, and she flings you one straight at your stomach. You attempt not to flinch.

“Here’s to either two more years of moping about this stupid badminton class every week, or two months of hardcore whining from both of you until you break and drop out.” Juda raises her Yakult bottle and clinks it with yours — that’s still on your stomach — and against Chenle’s who was drinking out of it the moment she did so, spilling what little there was of it on his face. Chenle recovers and yells out offensively, causing Juda to squeal as she stands up and goes behind the couch, using it as her shield. 

You inhale and try to tune them out.

Chenle smiles as you giggle at him, the loud music of EDM mixed with Kidz bop playing in the background as the sound of metal basketball hoop clanging echoes just enough for it to have a rhythm. He looks determined to beat the high score of this stupid basketball game, as Juda and you take turns watching him play the game and criticising his moves, even when none of you know much about basketball as he does. It’s been a few weeks since the start of the semester and hence, the beginning of your program. The kids you read to are either sleepy or disinterested as you start early in the morning, and the cleaning of lecture rooms is bearable at most times. 

So things are going great at this point.

That was until Chenle called out to you: “How’s badminton going?” and, you’re not gonna lie, that did dampen your mood just by a bit, but you give your best attempt at masking it and smiling through; you didn’t want them to pick up on the fact that it’s been one lesson and you’re already sick and tired of it (or, at least sick and tired of one certain person). But Juda’s just too smart and catches on too easily with anything that you and Chenle try to brush under the rug. She raises one eyebrow at you before retorting: “What, are you whinging about it already?”

“Am not!”

“Then what is it?” Juda says at the same time that Chenle swears, a little too loud for a kids arcade, but it’s around 8 PM and the only kids that are here probably do some sort of drug or something if they have parents who allow them to be out this late.

“Nothing, okay? The coach is great and the other people who are there are fine too, and I actually learnt a lot —”

“But?” Juda’s lips are pink as she wraps them around a straw poking out from her slushie cup. You lean back in retaliation, back pressed against the basketball machine as you try to find a leeway.

“. . . But.”

You’re late. And you can’t even use the excuse that you woke up late because it’s seven p.m. and you’ve scoffed down your early dinner two hours ago. You simply decided to just procrastinate to the next level in an attempt to gauge if you truly want to continue with this program or not. But now here you are, on a bus that’s severely delayed due to the evening traffic and running frantically to make it to class on time.

Minkyung is a 50-year-old dad who coaches this class; he was also at the office where you had submitted your form for the program, and was over the moon that you had decided to try out his class, hence asking you questions about your knowledge of badminton, and went on this spiel when you had made the mistake of being truthful. 

He now looks at you with a kind and wrinkly smile as your shoes squeak against the floor, one hand to your rib in an attempt to not show how much out of breath you were. “Don’t worry,” his voice was quiet enough for you to register only. “You arrived on time, I just finished the information briefing that you heard from me some time ago.” His smile was tight-lipped but genuine. Trying to even out your breathing, you set down your equipment and quickly join the rest in a circle. A clap echoes throughout the quiet hall as the coach drops his hands and clears his throat while letting out a puff of air, his eyes grazing by everyone’s heads in what you assume to be his way of counting the participants of the class.

“Glad to have everyone here today, I hope with this class you guys would not only learn about badminton but also be able to learn about its sportsmanship and benefits,” His eyes dart around the rather small circle. You expected the hall to be filled with as many students as that one Zumba class you were forced to attend in high school, but it was a rather tame class. 

The coach hums, thinking about something deeply as the other students shuffle around, shifting their weight from side to side in the silence engulfing the court. He looked up and clapped again softer this time. “I’ve decided to treat you like my children’s class.” He concluded, “I want you guys to introduce yourself to each other. Now don’t be shy; everyone's new in this class. Maybe you can find a friend in this class to learn better and more quicker. Okay, let’s start with you.” He pointed towards a guy that was to his left, who looked back at him with wide eyes. He looked around and smiled sheepishly yet brightly. “My name’s Haechan, and uh, I’m 22?” He finished it off with bound lips as he refers to the person after him to begin. 

And as you all finish introducing yourselves to each other, with a girl named Minji being last, the introductory circle ends, meaning the coach can now start the stretching and warm-up exercises. But he hasn’t. 

“Uh, coach, are we gonna—?” Minji stopped halfway as the coach whips his head to look at the gigantic clock on the wall next to the hall’s equally huge entrance. You crane your head curiously towards the direction of his vision, straining both your ears and vision to see what he was looking for, as everyone around you catches on and seems to do the same. It isn’t long after till the squeaking of shoes against the rubber ground echoes throughout; soon enough, the coach screams ‘fourteen minutes!’ as another person steps into the hall, wide eyes darting around everyone as he swallows in an attempt to simmer down his erratic breathing. As the guy's breathing evens out enough for him to probably mutter an apology, your breathing picks up.

“First day and you’ve already fallen for someone? Very on brand for you,”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You scramble to hit Chenle with his golden pokemon card folder he brought to the arcade. Juda calmly stops you using her right hand, as her left hand picks up her drink to take another sip from. 

“She didn’t even finish her story, Chenle. Go on,” Juda set her slushy down as her grip loosens from around your wrist, signalling to continue the story.

“Thank you, Juda, for you’re my favourite of them all—”

“Are you gonna finish your story?” Her grip tightened.

“A-as I was saying,”

You like to analyse people to some extent, thinking about how body language is cool and how it can depict everyone's different life, contrasting drastically from one another yet sometimes being so similar even with all of our different circumstances. This is why you tried analysing everyone in your class of busy people attempting to hit the shuttlecock in a streak longer than ten, as your eye flitting around the court and landing on your next target, the new guy, simply because that’s in your nature.

(“In your nature? Or was it just the mysterious guy that came into the class so suddenly, panting and out of bre—“

“Shut up? Anyway,” )

“Ah Jisung, this is the latest you’ve been,” The coach nodded innocently towards the guy, as if he hadn’t scared the piss out of all of you when he shouted.

He’s a bit stiff with his walk, and his shoulders seem to harden like a board when his eyes scan around the class and its participants. With wide eyes, he looks like a lost puppy with the way he looks back at the coach in some sort of silent confirmation of something. It’s probably his first time having a general class with coach Minkyung, you realise as you see Jisung bow sheepishly to his teacher.

“Sorry,” his voice was hushed, rumbling as he talked. His eyes scanned briefly once again across the now sparked class doing forehand and backhand practices that the teacher has instructed them to do. You locked eye contact with him from afar and quickly looked away, ears feeling a little bit hotter than it was a second before.

Soojin leans in towards you and Ryujin a bit and whispers, “Do you think he’s new? Like . . . All of us?”

You and Ryujin glance at each other for a quick second, before you smile profusely as Ryujin places her hands on the pole that holds the badminton net, her racket clenched fist supporting her chin as she ponders. “Not at all.” She says rather flatly, a cheeky smile following up after. Solely looking at him doesn’t give you any insights on his level of badminton playing, which is weird, because till now he could pick up on some people's skills; you’ve so far guessed correctly with a few of the participants (including yourself, you think you’re an average player in this class) so you feel a bit stumped. 

He stands stiff as he talks to the coach, keeping his gaze stern on his coach. He seems to be wearing normal trackies and only has a very slim back for his racket. 

“He’s obviously a beginner, his bag is so thin compared to Coach and even Haechan, he also doesn’t look like a long-time player” Jaemin pipes in.

“Who are you to say? You said you’ve been playing for how long and you’re still this bad?” Soojin smiles as she dodges Jaemin’s hand by a fraction. But Ryujin isn’t having any of it as she breathes in with her teeth clenched, hissing out a sound of suspicion.

“Coach seems to know him, which makes me think he’s either been here before, or he’s just the coach's nepotism offspring.”

“Okay!” The coach claps his hand, forcing everyone to act like they were practising. “Gather around; we’re gonna do a basic skills test for this lesson, then I’m gonna split you up into groups and we’ll get to work with the people with the same skills. Cool?” He throws two thumbs up as everyone stays silent, with one of the two people nodding. You watch as he sees the coach's enthusiasm die down a little.

“Cool?” The coach had yelled now, startling everyone else in the second round of heart attacks; everyone else yell back this time, the word ‘cool’ echoing around the grand sports court. You notice that everyone’s responded to the coach's request except for Jisung.

“Oh girl . . .” Juda now has her manicured hand placed on your sulked shoulder of realisation.

“I know, I’m so sorry, Juda.” You look into the distance of the arcade, feigning sorrow; or maybe it’s not much of a feign.

“The fuck,” Chenle turns to see both of you huddled in what looks like a cry fest. “Did someone fucking die?”

“Watch your tongue,” An old woman wearing a neon orange vest belonging to the arcade staff points at Chenle, who bows down as he murmurs ‘sorry’, with you two trying your best not to laugh, following and bowing your heads down too when the seething woman’s eyes meet your figures.

“How dare you anger the poor lady, her blood pressure is probably already high enough,” Juda picks at Chenle, who is now quietly trying to slip in the token to play another round.

“I wouldn’t have if you guys didn’t just suddenly go emo for no reason. What the f—” Chenle’s eyes waver back and see the woman’s eyes (Are they naturally red? Or is it the arcade lighting?) glaring back at him once more. “Frick. What the frick happened.”

“Oh Chenle, we must mourn for her. She’s fallen for another mysterious guy who barely has any personality.” 

“Oh my god,”

“Oh my fucking god, what—”

“Fuck,” Jisung sighed when he missed the shuttlecock by just a hair's width. Everyone was standing in a line-like formation, at the tip of their toes against the line that made the distinction between the playing court and outside. Jisung and the coach were having a match, the first test that the coach had implemented to determine who goes into what group according to their skills, and when no one volunteered, Jisung silently centred himself on the court as the coach's face broke out into a glow. 

Although his face was adorned with wrinkles even when still, and his skin did seem to look just a smidge pruney all the time — the I’m growing old look he had on his face was impossible to miss — the coach’s never looked sharper and younger than he does now, zipping through his side of the court like a bees race. Jisung on the other hand, seems to have a calm demeanour, quietly and tranquilly stepping forward and back, delivering lobs and clears, limbs outstretched to effortlessly hit the shuttlecock back even if it seems that his position doesn’t allow such moves. 

In the cold of Autumn, the stiffness of everyone's bodies was just the tiniest bit evident after a round of stretching, but two right in front of you look as if they’re playing in the heat of the summer, arms and legs effortlessly moving around the court. You try not to look too intently into the thin glisten of sweat forming on Jisung's neck.

Soojin raises her hand without taking her eyes off of the two people playing intensively in front of her, as Jaemin reaches in his pockets to place ten thousand won into her open palm, not letting his gaze wander away from the game either. “Thank you for your service.”

“I can’t believe he’s that good, I should’ve known from his cocky demeanour.” Haechan sighs, his fist resting against his cheek, hoisted up by his other hand. Everyone looks in his direction.

“You would think that it takes one to know one,” Minji almost barely whispers as she looks away from him by her side, looking back at the game with everyone else following. 

“Ah, fine. You won.” Coach drops his racket down from its first stage position, going towards the net with an open palm. Jisung barely takes a step forward before he’s lifting his hand too, shaking hands over the net as everyone claps behind them.

“Okay then, who’s next?”

You spend half the lesson just like that, with everyone playing against the coach followed by him then instructing everyone to get into the key badminton positions. You suspect that this is the core of learning badminton as the coach guides you from the way you hold your racket to the way your feet are positioned, but all you’re really thinking about right now is how badly you just want to go home.

“Okay!” The coach claps, as people gather around him in a semi-breathless state, just from being told to carry out a few sets of actions that badminton has. You don’t know why badminton necessarily needs ladder crossovers, but you barely get to give out a sigh before your eyes catch on Jisung’s seemingly calm composure. He’s done so much and maybe even a round extra, but he’s barely breaking a sweat.

Why does he look so good? Show off.

“Believe it or not, we’re done already! I now have an understanding of what level each one of you is in and will put you into groups.” You keep trying to wipe at your face to keep the sweat away, but an even coat of sweat is now settled on your hand after wiping it many times, so it only feels like you’re spreading it evenly. 

All while mysterious Jisung barely lifts his shoulder to have the cloth of his shirt wipe away the bead at his temple. 

How utterly gross of him. You wonder if he’s single.

“So I will see you all next week and give your level, thanks for joining!” And everyone disperses, spreading around the hall to get to their bags and start packing. You are standing above your bag, packing it and taking your bottle out to take a sip when you see Minji and Soojin whisper shouting, which defeats the whole point of whispering in the first place.

“How much do you wanna guess that he eats and sleeps here?” Soojin is practically bouncing in her place, taking multiple obvious glances at Jisung’s figure, who’s seemingly roaming around in his bag instead of packing it like everyone else, his racket placed neatly on top of his bag instead of inside.

“Nothing, because at this point it almost seems like a fact.” And with that, you shoulder your bag and head for the door, too tired to function.

“And you have no muscle aches? Impressive.” Juda pipes, her eyes glued to the road as she drives them back home.

“Oh no, I do. I just plastered a few KT tapes.” You say from your position in the passenger seat, elbow resting against the rolled-down window with your hand against your forehead, getting a nice breather from the wind outside. Chenle who’s sitting in the middle reaches his hand forward and pulls your sleeve up from behind to reveal your arm and shoulder lined up with tapes of blue and green. 

“A few huh,” Juda smiles and Chenle retorts, as you tch at them both. 

“I didn’t want to risk it, okay?” You say, yanking the cloth back down and slapping at Chenle’s hand, facing forward once again with your hands crossed defensively and gaze set outside again. The car lights up in the yellow of the street lights, as Juda drives through the night. 

“So when’s your next class?”

“And group A has . . . Jisung. Just Jisung”

“No, bad dog. Stop taking your anger out on Chenle’s biceps,” Juda attempted half-assedly to swat at your hands while her eyes were still glued to her phone, as you retell what happens with your next class.

“It hurts, Juda. Make her stop!”

You were furious. Group C? You knew you were better than that, having played almost every other sport growing up, even if occasionally, you’d gotta be good at badminton. Why is Jisung the only one in group A? Yes, fine, maybe he plays well, but it also means that you’ve been ranked down a group just because he was too perfect. Why does he attend the class if he’s already so good?

Subconsciously, you try to convince yourself to not take this whole grouping thing quite literally, as the coach had said that they’re not ranked or anything; but how can you not take it personally when the people you thought you were on par with were in group B. It takes all of your willpower for your scowl to not be displayed, but you soon find that you don’t have to try too hard as the coach assigns you all to your positions.

“Lighter on the feet,” Coach ordered, the squeak of shoe soles rubbing against the floor echoing throughout the sports hall. You, Soojin, Jaemin and Minji go through what the coach calls fundamental steps; right foot northeast with a forehand flick, right foot northwest with a backhand flick. It helps with the basics of the game, which everyone forgets, but you don’t think half an hour of the same steps helps with remembering either.

While group B, which consists of Haechan and Ryujin, go through the same phases with some extra steps added to strengthen their posture while playing. It’s not that you think your play better than the people in your group or group B, but mainly your irrational annoyance stems from the fact that you’re position in the class is gonna be recorded into your progress report, and you know for a fact that if Jisung wouldn’t be participating this dead class, you would be in group B. Yes, it’s still the last group out of two, but you can say that you’re merely ranked second. Instead, you’re last out of three.

As the steps turn repetitive, you let your eyes wander around mindlessly, your feet carrying you throughout as your hands attempt to do the actions in a somewhat muscle memory process. Your gaze eventually settles on Jisung, whose back is facing you as he smacks the shuttlecock against the wall, which bounces back only for him to smack at it again, repeating this one-man game he seems to have made up for himself. You glare lasers into his back, thinking about how maybe you’re not into this whole mysterious demeanour as you thought you were, seeing him just making up his own moves as the coach merely bounces back between the two of your groups, only checking in on Jisung after a few rounds of lecturing your moves and correcting your mistakes. 

Three consecutive claps echo around the tall indoor court, as everyone drops their rackets at their bags and gather around the coach in a circle, somewhat holding some sort of formation with Ryujin to his right and Jisung to his left, and with you positioned almost opposite of him. “Good job everyone, now it’s time to cool down, exactly how we warmed up,” Clueless, most of you follow the coach’s steps while he urges each person to take turns counting, counting up to eight in a clockwise direction. Your eyes can’t stop fleeting to Jisung, the star of every badminton night, as your petty envy prevents you from minding your own business. Throughout the whole night, you’ve seen him take only warming up and cooling down somewhat seriously, as he crosses his arms and holds up a good posture, compared to the rest of the class who simply just slump over, wanting the session to end and finally catch a break. 

One final clap and you’re all free to go. And you don’t waste a second, grabbing all your essentials and bag and quickly darting for the door, ready to go home and wash up and just not support your whole body weight on your feet. As you bid everyone goodbye and bow your head lightly to the coach, you watch as Jisung strides up to the coach in a meek manner, as his eyes fall on your retreating figure just slightly before softly calling out the coach's name. 

It’s nine p.m. on the dot when you step out of the court and breathe in the cold air.

Juda’s on the couch when you step into the apartment, toeing off your sports shoes as you rest your badminton bag against the shoe shelf, at hand for your next trip to your class. 

With a mouth full of chips, Juda barely takes her eyes off the screen before asking “How was class?”

“Same old,” You shrug.

“Same old? You’ve only been twice. How in tune are you with the coach for it to—” Your groan stops her teasing, as she smirks at your tired form squatting against the floor, hands clutching at the door and your hair in frustration.

“Could you have at least let me get home first before frying my brain?” Your hand falls to your face, and that’s when you feel the residue of your sweat from earlier, having turned into oil. The urge to shower now tenfold, you attempt to raise yourself and pass out in the shower.

“I’m gonna wash up now, and probably go to sleep,” You mutter just loud enough for Juda to hear, to which she hums while you retrieve a towel.

“Oh wait, before you go,” She calls just as you inch towards your room, “Do you know where my umbrella went? I’m going to campus tomorrow and I think it’s gonna rain again. I tried calling you but I don’t think it went through,” 

“Oh yeah, It’s by the door.” You recall taking the umbrella to class today, as the forecast has been filled with rain symbols with the Autumn weather. Digging in your bag, you push past your essentials in order to find your phone which Juda’s called. “That’s weird, my phone is not here.”

“Did you take it with you today?” Juda mumbles as she munches on a few more chips, rubbing her fingers against her pants after every serving. 

“I’m sure I did,” You ponder out loud, as you remove your hands from your bag in favour of patting at your pants and jacket resting on the clothing hanger, in case you somehow shoved it in your pockets without knowing.

“Did you forget it?” As soon as the words leave your roommate's mouth, you are met with a vivid picture of your phone, abandoned on the bench in the badminton court you left in a hurry. You sigh, placing your towel on the bathroom counter briefly before grabbing your house keys while putting your shoes on.

“I’ll be back Juda,”

“Good luck,” She waves.

You’re beyond tired, and a little frustrated at yourself for being impatient and forgetting your phone. You can’t risk losing such a thing, hence you’re glad that the lights were still on when you arrived at the building, giving a wave to the receptionist. 

Stepping onto the court, you immediately zero in on your phone which is perched on the bench, the black shade of the screen a contrast against the silver metal bar. But a squeak of a sole against the floor earns a squeal out of your mid-march, as you clutch your shirt next to your heart and turn towards the perpetrator.

“Oh my god,” Jisung’s gaze is what you’re met with as you let out a sigh of relief, the man in question only turning around as you mutter under your breath. 

“Sorry,” That’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all day, and there’s something about the tone of his voice that calms your heart down just a bit.

“What are you still doing here?” Your curiosity gets the best of you, your forgotten phone laying there, continuing to be overlooked as you question the presence of your classmate.

His eyes squint ever so slightly at your question, as his eyes ghost over you, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “I’m practising,”

Practising? After two hours of badminton class, he didn’t seem like he did much then, but he’s still staying back to practice. You hum in slight adulation, rocking back and forth on your feet as he turns back around and runs through steps you’re unfamiliar with. As you inch towards your phone, you think more about his prominent presence in the court; is he too shy in class? Or maybe he gets private classes from the coach?

But as you scan your eyes around the court, you’re met with a near-empty court, as the only thing in sight is his bottle and slim bag. You’re not sure exactly what you’re waiting for as you hold onto your phone, fidgeting on your spot as your eyes follow Jisung’s swift movements. He seems more tired now than he ever was in the two classes you’ve shared with him, as his shoulders ride up more with an attempt of regaining stability with his breaths.

You’re not sure how long you���ve loitered around, but it must be a long amount of time for Jisung to look at you with disdain and shock.

“. . . Why are you still here?” He seems more reserved — something you didn’t know could happen — as he asks you this question, holding his racket subconsciously closer to his body. Your eyes widen at the prospect of being caught, as you shake your hands vehemently, stumbling back a bit. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t—” You didn’t know how you were going to explain yourself, but one glance at the door of the court is all you need.

Bowing your head as quickly as you can in a lieu of a goodbye, Jisung could barely apprehend what you did before you’re bolting out of the badminton court.

A week later, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to face Jisung with your awkward encounter, and it is evident that the incident has been plaguing your mind as you stand at the door of the sports centre, both hands gripping the strap do your bag. 

“What if he thinks I’m a weirdo for just standing there and stalking him?” Your wandering mind does nothing to help ease the situation, as more arbitrary scenarios flow after one another. Maybe he told the coach how much of a creep you are and now when you step in, you’ll be banned from class.

“Oh dear god,” You let your head fall forwards, trying to tip over the thought out of your head. Closing your eyes, you try to think of the things you can do once the class is over when a tap on your shoulder brings you out of your reverie. You turn to look behind your shoulder, fearing that it's someone robbing you or worse— Jisung; only to see coach Son, smiling at you with a hint of worry laced on his forehead. 

Your shoulders sag with relief. “Hi coach,” you wince internally at your response, voice coming out high-pitched as you clench your grip on your bag. 

“Let's go in and start some warm-ups, yeah?” And as you follow the coach to the class, you make sure to subtly hide behind him in case you catch s glimpse of Jisung anywhere, not wanting to run into him. As you quietly peek your head over his right shoulder once and his left shoulder next, you feel like a secret agent sneaking up on your target. A clearing of someone's throat snaps you out of your act, as your shoulders bunch up and in shock and you quickly turn, only to be met with the feared man of the night.

It seems like he’s been trying to go up to the coach and maybe say hi, but your lurking figure both stopped and perplexed him, not knowing why you were just peeking your head around like a mole rat.

“Sorry,” You mumble slightly, eyes wide as you back away towards the closest wall, wanting to blend into it and live with the bricks. Maybe you’ll face less embarrassment that way but knowing you, anything is possible.

“It’s okay,” His voice is as unassuming as always, eyes looking anywhere but you now that he’s caught your attention. You think his shyness is quite cute, but not for long as you think back to being scared of him from last week to being jealous of him, also from last week. That’s a lot of emotion for you to process. 

He pulls up his hands, now shaped into a fist and looks past you, but you know he’s talking to you when he mutters, “Fighting,” before fully facing away and walking past you as if the mortification of his action has caught up to him. You barely contain your shocked expression behind your hand.

“Good job today guys, now we all have a basic grasp of the initial steps and our skills when it comes to badminton.” You brace your hands on your knees, just having done a set of wall squats as a way to build stamina, or so you’ve been told. You thought that maybe a month into these classes and you would’ve had some sort of energy stashed away in you when attending class, but it’s week five and you’re fighting for your life three seconds into a plank.

“Now I don’t wanna treat this class academically, but for those of you who truly care, there will be an assessment in the midst of this course to reevaluate your standing and see if you can advance from your group! But other than that, remember that this class can be solely for fun reasons too . . .” The rest of coach's words were white noise to your ears. Reevaluation? Does that mean that you can advance? That you’ll have a shot? 

“Are you okay?” Soojin leans in toward you, whispering while pointing to what you assume would be the shock on your face. You turn to her, drawing a thumbs up to reassure her. And before you know it class is done and you’re pulled to do a series of cool-down moves. You eagerly follow through, now somehow charged with motivation to stay back and go over your moves a few times. You figure that the least you can do to move up a rank is to spend an extra hour going over your moves, even when you sometimes think about the significance of them.

You tread up to the coach and ask in your kindest voice if it was possible for you to stay back. “Of course, are you gonna go through the steps again?” He questions as he shifts his bag from one hand to another. You give a nod and wave goodbye, watching as everyone litters out of the court.

Well, almost everyone.

You can feel, more than anything, Jisung’s gaze piercing your figure through the hood of his jumper, while you give your best attempt at stretching. You’re not sure really what stretches best help with reducing the ache in your muscles the day after, but you figure the endeavour of reaching your toes should do.

Even after a few minutes of trying to appear mellow, Jisung’s presence alone makes you feel on edge as if you’ve stolen his territory. But you figure that nothing will change and that all you can really do right now is, well, practice.

The squeak of your shoes echoes every now and then, followed by a whip sound of the racket you’re flinging in the air. If you do this quickly enough, surely your skills will improve, right? From what your coach Son demonstrated earlier, you realised that as he would start off the steps slowly for your group to get a hang of, he was able to transition the speed to his liking, doing each step quickly and efficiently. 

“Okay, should be easy,” You’re careful not to speak too loud in the almost quiet hall, giving yourself words of encouragement. Hand braced in the first position, then in the second, then a slight step back, and then your hand straight and quickly bend.

You finish the routine with its final step of hitting the imaginary shuttle as fast and as straight as your hand can go with such speed. With one round done, you brace yourself in the initial position to do it again. One, two, three and four.

You only get to pump out four, maybe five rounds of this pattern before a clearing of someone's throat scares the daylights out of you. With a barely contained shout, you’d forgotten — however briefly — that you weren’t alone. You’re looking at Jisung, who seems shocked at accidentally shaking you up so much, before he says something to you.

“What?” Even with the stillness of the court, the man’s words were barely comprehensible, as yours echoed slightly throughout the court. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” Oh, so the first comment he ever mutters to you are words of criticism. You furrow your brows, head tilting slightly out of habit as you encourage him to go on.

“When you’re recoiling from hitting the shuttle, your racket still faces forward instead of down,” He explains, but none of it makes sense to you and it must be evident in your face, with Jisung looking slightly frustrated that the words did not register in your head.

“If you keep your racket facing forward, the ball isn’t going to go down but head straight, which allows your opponent to retaliate better.” He continues, and you somewhat understand where he’s getting at, but he’s not really helping you at all. All he did was point out your mistake, which makes you feel that he’s just trying to show off his knowledge.

“Well, what should I do then?” You can’t help but seem a bit agitated, as you slump your shoulders and let the racket settle by your ankles, your hold on the handle tightening ever so slightly.

“Hit it face down,” He raises his arm and demonstrated the step to you, causing the head of his hoodie to fall, shining the light of the court on his face. You’re briefly stuck looking at his face instead of his step, but were reeled back in when he makes eye contact. You clear your throat as he goes through the step again, which you think were exactly the steps you were doing a second ago.

“But, how was I any different?” You say as you mimic his steps, bracing yourself in the positions without much thinking, and hitting the imaginary shuttle right as when he does.

“No- see, you did it again,” He steps a bit closer as he gestures to the racket in your hand. “You’re hitting it straight on. You’re supposed to go down.” You sigh as he says this, feeling a bit irked that a mere student is trying to tell you what to do. He is in the top rank, so maybe he has a point.

Attempting to set your implicit annoyance aside, you intently look at his hand and the way he moves his wrist at the end of the step, trying your best to imprint this into your head. He looks a bit flustered with how much your gaze is focused on him, but still goes on two more times before nodding his head at you, encouraging you to try once more. 

You look at the position of your hand this time instead of him, going through the initial steps and tweaking your wrist to face more downwards this time than your last few attempts, before your eyes quickly flit towards Jisung, looking for some sort of confirmation with your try. The subdued purse of his lips assures your suspicion, which is that you’re doing it right this time round.

“Good, did you kinda find out what you were doing wrong?” The words come out on reflex, and you don’t think twice this time about him being in the same class as you and yet trying to coach your steps, as you ponder on his question.

“I mean, I found out I was doing something wrong when you pointed it out, but I’m not quite sure what you meant when you said I was hitting it straight on.”

“Wow, you were really into him weren’t you?”

“Shut up Chenle, I was into the badminton technicality.”

Jisung steps forward a little bit and is about to say something before he hesitates. You look at him sceptically, waiting to see what he was gonna say before he shakes his head and seemingly snaps himself out of it. “Can you go back to the third position?” He asks of you, which you raise your hand and assume the position. Your racket and arm are raised pointed straight to the ceiling, while he positions his fisted hand in front of you. Your questioning look doesn’t go unnoticed, as a slight smile appears on Jisungs face before he nods at you, saying, “Okay, now gently go down like you would and stop at my hand.” 

You do as you’re told, with Jisung’s eyes settled on your concentrated face following his orders, as the face of your racket meets his fist, the white of his knuckles colouring for a bit. 

“See, you’re hitting the front of my knuckles, but that will send the shuttle forward.” He demonstrates by pulling his fist back, “That will give the other player a better opportunity of retaliating.” He then readjusts your racket by the throat, having the net hit the top of his fist. “This gives you a better chance.”

“But like, how am I giving them a better shot?” 

You’re not sure what was funny or amusing about your question, but it seems that there must be something there for Jisung to sport a cute small smile, as he picks his racket back up and moves to one of the set-up nets, and funnily enough, you find yourself following him subconsciously. He picks up a shuttlecock on his way to the net and positions himself, as you stand at his side.

“See, let’s say the shuttle is coming at you this way,” He holds the shuttle with one hand as if the opposing player had shot it at him over the net. “If I hit it the way you had— actually, why don’t you try receiving the ball.” And so you shuffle over, standing opposite of his ready stance with your arms crossed, intrigued.

“I’ll throw the shuttle back to you and try seeing if you can hit it back.” You realise that this is the most you’ve heard him speak in the past five weeks that you’ve attended the class together. You bring your hand up and stand in the ready position you remember coach telling you about when initiating a game, and Jisung takes that as a sign that you’re ready and hits the shuttle at a moderate speed. You hit the ball back with ease, as it goes over back to Jisung’s side, who catches it with his other hand. You let out a long ‘ahh’ sound of understanding, hand clutched at your side. 

“You’re right, that was hell easy,” You brood aloud, but not before asking one of your other endless questions. “But then, how would the other way be any different?”

From the looks of it, Jisung seems over the moon that you asked such a question, holding back a smile by biting on his lips lightly and quipping his head to the side. He holds up the shuttle and looks at you, gauging to see if you’re ready to receive the ball once again. As you regain your ready position, you see the ball suspended in the air briefly before Jisung hits it at the ‘better’ angle, which is seemingly from the head of it, but before you can process anything else a zip sounds past you and the ball has landed behind you.

Your gasp resonates through the hall as you look behind you to where the shuttle has landed, with a hand coming to your mouth as you look at Jisung. The latter contains his smug smile behind his own hand, as you point at the ball and look back and forth. “What did you just do?”

“Ah, that’s a technique that's called smash.” You falter slightly.

“That’s a weird fucking name I’m not gonna lie,” You glance at the ball once more with a look of disgust, before shaking yourself out of it. “Oh my god, that was so cool.”

You didn’t think that you would be getting a one-on-one lesson when you decided to stay behind today, but you’re quite surprised with how he was able to spot such a little detail so quickly. And that gives you an idea.

“Jisung,” You call his name for the first time since you met him five weeks ago, which surprises the said man, as you see his eyes startle and a few strands of his hair jerk. “Do you stay after class every week?”

He’s a bit quiet for some time, processing your question thoroughly. He nods his head briefly, but not before a bit of hesitation. 

“Is it . . . Can you help me improve?” You’re a bit shy now that you voice your question out loud, but you’re determined to move up at least one rank and land second place; or even just have a good academic score, even in badminton. 

Seeing the blank face that Jisung is now sporting, you think about the unfair offer you’ve just made to him. Why would he spend his extra time after class to teach you, his potential competitor, without getting anything out of it? You’re not sure what you can offer him, maybe some sort of payment? But before you can ponder even more, you catch a slight nod of his head from the corner of your eye.

“Is that . . .  a yes?” You lock eye contact, as he nods his head once more but with more vigour and confirmation. 

“Why?” It’s your turn to look at him with confusion.

“Are you asking me?” He points to himself, as he slightly tilts his head as if he was going to look as if you were talking to someone else. You shake your head quickly once he asks the question, raising even more questions.

“Actually, no. I take back what I said. You said yes, right? You can’t change your mind. Or, I mean you can but like I would be pretty bummed about it because you already said yes but I’d respect your choice.” You take a deep breath in once you finish, looking at him and clasping your hands together a bit too harshly.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll help you with what you need.” Relief washes over you and you can’t help but smile in thanks.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing too.” Jisung hums for you to continue, as he goes towards his bag and retrieves his bottle to take a sip.

“Can you teach me how to smash?” And maybe you should’ve waited for him to be done with that bottle first.

You think you’re quite good at being subtle and on the low, no matter how much Juda and Chenle counter that argument. You can be sneaky if you put your mind to it, and it's been proven many times in high school when you would sneak your favourite snack during the middle of the class without your strict teacher finding out.

So you’re not sure where you went wrong when you held out a snack bar in Jisungs direction, only for the whole court to look at you weirdly. You merely strutted up to him with maximum placidity and poked out the bar from your hand into his torso, looking away and hoping he would get the memo and take from you as with a mutter of something that sounds really close to the word ‘thanks’.

But it’s been a solid fifteen seconds and not only is the bar still in your hand, but everyone in the class has slowed down their activities in favour of looking at you two. Even coach’s staring as if he’s trying to solve a very complex puzzle.

“Is this . . . for me?” Jisung’s voice comes out as a rumble, not knowing if he should whisper or talk normally, sounding out something in between instead. 

Of course this is for you, idiot. Why am I holding it in your direction??

You ignore his question and shake the bar in your hand with a bit more intensity, hoping that he would finally get the memo. It isn’t until ten more seconds pass that you lose all hope and turn to him, grabbing his hand and placing your gratitude in his open palm, closing his fist around the energy snack.

You stomp your way to start your warm-ups before Jisung could say anything.

“When you aim your hand, you’re not really looking at the shuttle,” Jisung starts after a few rounds of one-on-one games you’ve started after class. “Your eyes are just hovering around it for a few seconds before you look around and put yourself in position. You’re supposed to go in position without looking, it should be intuitive.” You huff at his explanation, dropping your hands by your sides.

“How do I ‘look’ at it more, then?” You’re grateful that Jisung is helping you, but it’s just the tiniest bit unnerving for him to recognise your every move and be able to point out your mishaps. He moves back from the net, creating a decent amount of space in his playing circle. He starts throwing the shuttle up with his badminton racket, the distance from the shuttle and its net growing with each hit.

“Practising this move helps,” He says as he works through what you remember the coach demonstrating the first few classes. As the shuttlecock goes higher and higher with each impact, your eyes catch on the silver of skin poking out as Jisung lifts his hand to meet the shuttle, his shirt rising for a few seconds every time. 

“I think it would be better if you looked at the shuttle?” His words catch you off guard, as you look up and meet his gaze already settled on your, eyes gleaming as he pokes at his cheek with his tongue. 

“Shut up,” You look away, flustered that you got caught, before attempting the moves, refusing to look back at him.

The condensation of the electrolyte drink is addled with the dampness of your hand, as you make your way to class the week after. You see Ryujin talking to the coach as you enter, and Jisung at his bag, seeming to ruffle through it in order to retrieve something. You strut your way up quietly, not wanting to attract any awkward attention by giving gratitude in the form of a drink to your unofficial instructor. As you open your mouth to call Jisungs name, the tall man turns around and gives you the faintest hint of a smile, before his eyes land on your hand.

“Hi, here.” You spout, as you extend your hand straight towards him, some of the condensation dropping on the floor and finding solace in the gaps of your fingers. His hands feel dry and warm as it brushes against yours, retrieving the drink from your grasp.

“You didn’t have to. Thank you; for last time too,” Your cheeks heat up at his words as you avert your gaze away, opting to look at the playing net instead. “Don’t mention it,” Your damp hand wrings against the dry one behind your back, as you slowly let your gaze wander back to Jisung, who’s now looking at the blue bottle in his hand.

“Did you know,” He twists the drink in his hand and looks at what you think is the nutrition information. “Electrolyte doesn’t actually help when you exercise.” Your expression sullens as he continues to look at the drink you gave him. “Your body loses more water than electrolytes when you exercise, and so there is no use consuming more electrolytes. Water helps way more in comparison,” The scowl on your face makes Jisung stop in his tracks as he looks up after finishing his bite-sized lecture.

“Well, if you’re so ungrateful—” You reach your hand out to snatch the bottle from him but are stopped short as his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. “No!” He exclaims and a chuckle slips past as your struggle to get the drink, reaching out your other hand before he captures that too, now both of your wrists trapped in his hand. Your eyes widen, with your wrist bound and fighting up a struggle, all impaired with Jisung’s hand wrapped. Before your mind can wander to what other scenarios can result in him bounding up your hands, he continues; “I’m very grateful. You don’t have to give me these things just because I give you a few tips after class.”

You pause your struggle, letting your hands be weighed down. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been helping you at all. Sometimes I even set you back, so it’s the least I can do.” You say truthfully. You do sometimes feel like a burden when Jisung gives you a tip and you don’t adapt immediately, sometimes it takes you maybe two after-class lessons until you can successfully cast back the shuttle over the net with a short distance. The only way you could think about paying him back was through these pick-me-up snacks.

“Okay, how about this,” You miss the warmth and pressure of his hand against your wrist as soon as he lets go to put the drink down behind him and straightens back up, looking away as he slowly grows flustered with what he’s about to say next. “Treat me to ice cream maybe?”

You smile at his antics, happy to have been told how you could repay him. “Deal,” He visibly deflates with relief as you zealously agree, putting your bag down next to his as you both start to unpack. 

You shuffle to the bathroom as soon as practice is over, giving Jisung a quick point towards the direction you’re going to ease his worries about you running away. Once inside, you’re met with the cool breeze and a mirror that reflects your spent figure. Oh god, how were you gonna go out like this? Is this what you looked like this entire time? Shuffling to the sink, you shoulder your bag back as you lean over the sink and lightly dab at your face with some water, before cleaning yourself up and dabbing the paper towel against your face. 

You don’t know why you were so nervous to do this; it’s truly just some ice cream with your temporary and unofficial coach. But you truly wanted him to see your gratitude, and soon enough you’re thinking if ice cream isn’t enough, and budgeting how you can come up with enough money for an all-you-can-eat buffet at this time of the night. But before you could even add up the numbers on your fingers - it was a two in one hand and three in another, not quite sure what they meant - the sound of the door opening echoes in the bathroom, jumping you out of your reverie. 

Turning around, you just catch Minji stepping in, looking taken aback at your shocked expression, as if you weren’t expecting anyone to enter this public bathroom. “You okay?” She calls after you, and you can only hope that the smile on your face is convincing enough.

“Yup! Just . . . tired,” You cringe a bit at the overused excuse, but your shoulders slump when she just smiles back at you. 

“It’s okay, maybe your date with Jisung would cheer you up?” You feel something lodge in your throat, coughing out in surprise.

“No!” You retort, hands coming out from behind you as if to stop all ideas from forming. “We’re- It’s not like that. He’s just-” Minji looks at you with amusement, as she shifts her weight and crosses her arms, urging you to continue. The mind blank you’re sporting is not at all helping with a way to express what you truly are doing with Jisung, and so you try: “I just owe him something for smashing his racket.” And that was the best you could do.

Minji’s smile falls, as her arms drop at her sides. “You . . . smashed his racket?” 

You don’t know why her voice was laced with such concern, but you figure that you have to finish what you started. “Yeah, to pieces actually. Sometimes the adrenaline truly gets to you, right?” You chuckle a bit, trying to find a gap in the conversation where you can squeeze back out of the bathroom.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” You clench the strap of your bag and exit the bathroom, ready to dart out of the place. As you turn a sharp right, you are immediately met with a sheet of white, which suspiciously looks like the colour of the shirt Jisung was wearing today. Hands are placed at your shoulder and you’re quickly set back half a step from the wall, or at least enough to recognise that it wasn’t a wall, but rather Jisung’s tall figure.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes flicking from his own to the arms stretching to your shoulders, catching a few veins adorning his forearm. A clear of his throat has you looking entirely away, as you grab at his wrist and start tugging towards the exit. 

The white lights of the LED sign of the ice cream place illuminate most of the dark street, with most businesses having closed earlier in the day save for a few convenience stores littered with tired college students like yourselves. You eye the shop and its extravagant decor, sceptical about being brought to such a high-end ice cream shop.

“You know, when you said ice cream, I thought you had wanted me to buy you some popsicles from some convenience store. Not someplace about exorbitant ice cream with fifty years of craft in making,” You nudge your elbow a bit to Jisung’s side, to which he responds by twisting his head in your direction.

He splutters, “Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot that, you know you were gonna pay,” You notice his hands move as he speaks, something you’ve picked up from when you would talk to him or notice him talking to coach; it’s as if his words are spelt with his hands first and then brought out through his lips, now adorning a pout as he tries explaining himself.

“. . . I thought we were just, going out.” Your eyebrows raise a bit in surprise at his words. Going out? As in, going out on a date? 

You wonder if your thought bubble is something he can see, as he quickly puts out his hands again, shaking them vehemently. “Not on a date! It’s just, I didn’t know what-”

“Jisung, it’s okay. I was just messing with you,” You decide to put him out of his misery, reassuring him before continuing, “I’ve never been here but I’ve been meaning to try it out, so I’m glad you suggested this place. Let me treat you to something good,” And without thinking, you link your arm through his and push through the door, the cool of the interior washing over both of you. The shop was mostly white, with white tiles placed as half-walls as well as the flooring, the only hint of colour being the green of a few plants and of course the various ice creams. The employee, who seems to be the only person in the shop, straightens up ever so slightly at the sight of the two of you entering, before slumping back down when you head towards the self-serve ice cream booths. Picking up two cups, you hand one to Jisung who’s at your right, before you pick up the scooper from a mini bucket of water, waving it around your choices.

“Tell me which flavour you want me to pick out for you,” You eye the various flavours of ice creams, seeing if you can find your favourite. You look at Jisung to see if he’s doing the same, only to see his eye zeroed in on one bucket which is contrastingly fuller than the different flavours around it.

“Mint chocolate ice cream?” Your question has JIsung nodding his head as he looks at you sheepishly. “I can’t believe you would choose the most controversial ice cream. You’re so original.” You tease, to which Jisung nudges you in retaliation.

“It’s a good flavour, if people stop comparing the mint and the chocolate and instead choose to see how much they complement each other, we would be one step closer to world peace.”

“That’s a bold claim, what’s your source?” Jisung grabs the scoop out of your hands with mock aggressiveness, opting to scoop his serving of the mint chocolate ice cream. “Your references? Where is your citation—” He cuts you off by placing his hand on your mouth after taking a scoop of his ice cream, as his chest meets your arm. 

He shushes you, “Just get your ice cream, yeah? I’ll go get my toppings,” He nods and lets go of your mouth, missing the way your cheeks heat up from his proximity and touch on your face. You bring the back of your hand to your face, prying the heat to go away as you shake your head and pick the scooper back up, reaching for your favourite flavour of ice cream.

Meeting Jisung at the counter, you place your cup of ice cream next to his on the weigh and fish through your bag as you wait for the person behind the counter to calculate your total. However, as soon as you probed your wallet out of your bag, the sound of a completed transaction peals out, making you turn your head up just to see Jisung putting his wallet back into his sweatpants.

“It was supposed to be my treat,” You insist, looking towards Jisung’s direction to generate some sort of guilt for his action. Instead, the man avoids your gaze, picks up two spoons, and places them in your cups, grabbing yours when he spots you not budging from the corner of his eye and turning to head for the door. You grab at his sleeve to force out his reasoning but are slowly pulled with him as he heads out, quickly turning around and bidding goodbye to the staff before he opens the door.

“Well, maybe you can pay next time,” At the mention of another time of you and Jisung hanging out, your initial sorrow washes over by a wave of giddiness. 

“Then give me your number,” You propose, fishing your phone out. “So I can see when you’re next free and make it up to you,” With wide eyes, Jisung’s hands hesitate as they reach out for your phone; before either of you can second-guess yourselves, he takes the phone and smiles shyly, typing in his details. Handing the phone back to you, you take a look at his contact before pocketing your phone as Jisung starts to speak.

You scoop a spoon of your ice cream into your mouth to hide your smile, but from a light chuckle that emits from your left side, you don’t think your efforts amounted to much.

You stretch your arm to reach the end of your leg, warming up your body before the mass class warmup, more so to have something to do instead of staring at Jisung who’s also here early and is also doing his own unique sets of warm-ups. 

Nothing about badminton is sexy; there’s nothing sexy about moving your wrist just in time to deliver some sort of groundbreaking delivery with the shuttlecock. Even the word shuttlecock grosses you out, as you suppress the urge to shiver at this very moment. 

So you’re not sure why the act of playing badminton with the wall is such an attractive sight to you; as Jisung grunts every now and then, seemingly surprised and unprepared by his own backhand delivery against the wall, which makes him take quick steps back and forth and side to side to meet each hit. His quick movements allow for his loose clothing today to move around freely, exposing toned skin every now and then. It takes a lot of your willpower to have you not to drool right then and there, as if you were back in high school once more.

One hit, in particular, bounced off high and far from the wall, the sound of the shuttlecock smacking against the wall echoing louder as it heads for Jisung’s left side, a direction that you’re situated in although with a safe amount of distance. The tall player retaliates by turning his body a whole hundred-and-eighty degree, facing away from the wall and essentially towards you as he tries to continue his streak of hits. Briefly, you see his eyes look at you and back at the shuttles descend, but his focus on the said thing falters when he looks at you again, realising that you’ve been watching him play. 

The shame of being caught should’ve arrived by now, as your shoulders stiffen with being onslaught by Jisung’s intense gaze. But before the chagrin could fully settle in, Jisung has completely passed the point of positioning his racket, causing the shuttle to fall and bounce off of his head and onto his feet. Gently clasping your hand at your mouth, you stop your giggles at the warning glare that Jisung sends to you; although his flushed cheeks aren’t making it any better.

“Say something and see what happens,” He points at you with the tip of his racket. You remove your hand and open your mouth, curious to see where this goes.

“Are you really gonna say something?” He steps closer to your figure, which is now sitting cross-legged on the ground with both hands placed on top of one another in front of you. He drops his racket on the ground, as if it doesn’t cost a limb, and instead places his hands right above his knees, looming over your figure. You can’t help it this time when your gaze follows towards the gap in the collar of his shirt, showing the sharp cut of his collarbone peeking through. It’s when your gaze is caught on his chain necklace dangling from his neck that the sound of a basketball bouncing echoes closer, as both of you look towards the direction it’s coming from. Not long after, a boy no older than ten shuffles in with his shoes squeaking against the floor, looking shocked at the fact that the two of you are here. 

The ball lightly hits Jisung’s calf, who simply picks it up and passes it back to the boy who’s seemingly frozen in place. As soon as the ball arrives at his own feet, he quickly picks it up and dashes out of the place. 

“Do you wanna bet to see who can reach past their toes?” Your question snaps Jisung out of his thought. The boy chuckles and sits down to your right, stretching out his legs and shaking them out as a form of warm-up.

“You’re so on,”

Your hands are clasped behind your back as you strut up to Jisung, who’s at his bag, taking out his needed items. With a tap on his shoulder, he turns to face you, giving you a smile as a greeting before scanning you.

“What are you doing this time?” You gasp in mock offence.

“This time? I haven’t even done anything yet?” 

“But you’re going to,” He points his fingers at your hidden hands. “You’re either gonna scare me or pull the lamest prank ever known to date.” Your smile drops and a scowl replaces it instead. 

When Jisung fully turns to face you, you smile once more and lean your shoulders in. “I actually brought you something to thank you. Again.” You shift the item from your left to your right hand, feeling nervous and embarrassed for saying it all out loud. “Because of you, I can hit a backhand serve and not smack myself.” The boy stands taller with your gratitude, a blush sporting on his face as his eyes look anywhere but at you. You must look like high schoolers confessing to one another with the way you’re both flustered and shy, which isn’t a thought you’re fully opposed to.

He nods his head, still avoiding looking directly at you, as he reaches his hands out, ready to receive what you’ve brought for him. You giggle slightly as he shuts his eyes and shakes his hands in anticipation, “Since you said electrolyte drinks don’t really help, and you like your proteins after class, I thought of a better third option and brought you,” You reach your hands out and place the gift on his palms, urging him to open his eyes.

Cold and dripping with condensation, the plastic water bottle perched on his hands seem small as his hands close around them to keep from falling. His eyes fall as he looks dimly at the bottle in his hands, and you look away briefly to keep from laughing straight in his face.

“Now I know what that kid felt like when he got gifted an avocado for Christmas.”

“Wait,” Chenle plops down next to Juda as he says this, but is quickly shoved to the other end of the couch with a complaint ‘It’s too hot for you to stick your gross body next to me’.

“What’s his deal then?” 

“What?” You turn to look at Juda first as if to check that you’re the only one confused. The furrow of the girls’ eyebrows proves the fact that you aren’t alone, as you both look at Chenle with visible empty thought bubbles surrounding you.

“Well, he’s a badminton prodigy according to you. Seems to have surprased all the basics and is just a step away from being a professional.” The initial shove and retort from Juda barely set him off, as he goes back to his original position and maybe squeezes himself even more to her side and pulls a spoon out, digging into her tub of ice cream.

“Why is he still coming to class if he’s qualified enough to teach you?” Unfortunately, for once Chenle does have a point. You’ve thought about this a few times at the beginning of the semester when you were a little more than irritated by the fact that he joined the class and made you rank down a notch; ever since he agreed to lend you a hand, you’re sometimes even happy when you see him come in.

“He has a point sadly,” Juda waves her spoon towards Chenle’s direction. “If he’s as good as you say he is, why bother coming to class?”

“Maybe you should ask him that on your next date,” The boy wiggles his eyebrows at you, squealing out a laugh when you pull your fist back in a threatening manner. 

“Maybe I will,” you blurt out, attempting an aggressive tone. Before you could let anyone, even yourself, comprehend what you said, you pressed play on the tv and snuggled up to Juda’s arm on her right, with Chenle leaching off of her to her left. 

“The things I put up with,” She huffs as she stabs her spoon into her ice cream tub, feeding you diligently.

[WEDNESDAY; 10:37 PM]

you: you

jwisung: ?

jwisung: what happened to hello

jwisung: ‘how was your day’

jwisung: wheres ur decorum

you: shut up you dont even know what that means

jwisung: :(

you: >.<

you: are you free this saturday at 9

jwisung: you mean

jwisung: the saturday 9pm where we just finish our badminton class?

jwisung: idk i gotta check my schedule to see if i have a badminton class around that time 

jwisung: omg wait are you gonna spoil me 

you: 😐

you: yes but not anymore

you: bye

jwisung: WAIR

jwisung: pleahse im soreu

you: not forgiven <3

you: i know this place that actually has good mint choc ice cream

you: not too minty not too chocolatey 

jwisung: you rmbrd that i like mintchoc?

you: dont do this to me

jwisung: okay i wont 😁

you: good boy

jwisung: …

you: ?

you: oh! 

jwisung: no

you: ill remember this too 😋

Your bag is bigger this time when you go to class, having packed an extra set of clothes and a towel to have a quick rinse after class before your not-date with Jisung. Arriving just in time for the warm-up session, you’re met with gloomy faces left and right. Plopping your bag down next to Soojin’s, you whisper when you ask, “Why does everyone look like they’ve been kicked?”

She looks up to you with a pout adorning her features. “Coach declared today a ‘cardio’ day. Something about wanting to boost our stamina or whatever the fuck.” She sighs as she shoves her stuff back into her bag, sadly shuffling across the court to do her designated warmups. You grimace as you follow, hoping your travel-size soap is enough.

Turns out Coach’s definition of cardio was way more intense than what you remember your gym friends raving about, as you put your hands on your knees to keep yourself from collapsing. A whistle from the coach signals a shift in your rep, making you change stations and do the next cycle of workout.

“Coach, how much longer are we gonna do this—”

“Until I start sweating, Jaemin. Now keep up!” Coach demands, which is absurd, because he isn’t doing anything but watching you do push-up planks and try not to collapse.

“Okay, stop,” He blows the whistle once more and you fall to your hands and knees, with everyone else modelling a variation of your position. Haechan’s high-pitched groan startles you, but not as much as the coach’s yelling that follows after.

“Don’t sit down guys! Sitting down after exercise is terrible for your stamina,”

“This sounds like some facebook myth my mom would tell me,” Ryujin pants as she shoves her fringe out of her face.

Coach smiles as he claps this time around. “You guys were great today, well done! As a gift, you can only do the stretching cool-down activities and I’ll finish class earlier today,” At that, the class erupts in out-of-breath cheers and barely lasting claps. 

You look to find Jisung, just to see how he’s holding up after this exercise round from hell, and you find yourself more than relieved to see him affected for once. Halfway through class, he’s opted to take off his hoodie, which left him in a white shirt and navy sweatpants, with sleeves bunched up to show his biceps and their carvings. The sight of him adorned with sweat and panting sends a twist to your stomach, and you’re quickly reminded that you’re supposed to go out with him after this.

Shuffling to your bag as quickly as you can with the ache pulsing through your legs, you’re about to head for the courts' public showers when you’re met with Jisung’s figure. 

“You can’t leave that easily, I have to try that ice cream,” He murmurs with a crooked smile. You smack at his shoulder.

“I wasn’t gonna leave, I wanted to take a quick rinse before we go out. That cardio really did a number on me,” Jisung falls a bit quiet at your words, as you visibly see him suddenly deep in thought. Before you get to question it, he beats you to it by straightening up and looking directly at you with an idea in mind.

“Why don’t you come to mine?” You blanch at his words but aren’t allowed to react more than that as he continues. “I live really close, and you can just use the shower before heading out. You have your stuff with you and I need a rinse too.” He points at your bag behind you, making you flush and subconsciously move to cover up your efforts. His idea doesn’t seem too bad, and you think this could be another excuse for you to make up to him. Let’s go out one more time because I used up all your hot water. Couldn’t think of a better idea. 

With a nod and a smile, you’re quickly guided out of the building shoulder to shoulder.

Jisung’s apartment really wasn’t far at all, as you arrive at the complex within a five-minute walk from the sports grounds. Living in a two-bedroom apartment with his roommate, who Jisungs said to have gone home this winter season, the place looks relatively clean with the effort of one person living in the area. He directs you to his room, where you place your bags and pick up your clothes before he points towards the bathroom.

“You can use my shampoo and soap, they’re both in some type of white bottle. Don’t use the blue ones because they’re my roommates’ and he has a sixth sense when it comes to these things,” You salute him and shuffle to the bathroom, trying your best to be as quick as possible to not leave him waiting and to not actually use up all his hot water. The bathroom was just slightly messy, with towels stacked on one another in a haphazard manner and shaving bottle caps abandoned and soap remnants staining the sink, you feel warm with the idea of getting to see this side of Jisung. A university student trying his best, not some badminton prodigy.

Rinsing your body one last time, you close the water tap and open the glass door of the shower, reaching out your hand blindly to retrieve your towel. After a few seconds of mindlessly flinging your arm and only coming back with a bang of your knuckle against the metal towel holder, you don’t really recall pulling out the towel from your bag, much less hanging it anywhere near the bathroom.

“Oh my god, why today?” The cold of the world outside the shower cubicle washes shivers over you as you open the door wide enough to fit your head around, scanning to see if there’s any alternative you can use instead. All you’re met with is bundles of toilet paper rolls stacked on top of one another and used toilet paper rolls dumped into a basket haphazardly. Your panic settles a bit quicker as your mind blanks from solutions, but not before a knock is heard through the door with your name being called.

“Yes?” You hide the waver in your voice as best as you can, closing the glass door just a bit more.

“Is everything okay?” Jisung’s voice rumbles through the door. Your hand flies to your body, suddenly feeling exposed with the reminder of Jisung’s presence. Slipping back into the shower, you raise your voice as much as you can to be heard through the door; “Yup! Everything’s fine. Just . . .” It’s just I’m dripping and naked in your house and the only remedy is a towel, which I don’t have.

“I noticed you forgot your towel,” The muffle of his voice cuts you out of your trance, “I can give it to you— I mean of course I won’t look! I can just— maybe I’ll stick my hand in?” You laugh slightly at the fact that he’s just as flustered as you, before replying with an agreement. 

As he opens the door with the smallest gap to fit the towel and then his wrist, the cold air of the outside reminds you again of your stark nakedness, one hand going across your chest as you reach your other to grab at the towel. With a skim of your wet fingers against his warm and dry ones, you retrieve your towel with a shy thanks, as Jisung quickly goes to close the door.

While getting ready as quickly as you could in the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts of how you were supposed to face Jisung after that whole incident. You couldn’t think if it was better to joke about it and get it over with or forget about it and have to come back one day for some form of closure. You hoped there was no need for closure.

But before your overthinking could get to you, Jisung regarded you like he would any other day when you stepped out of his bathroom — with a shy look and awkward hands — and you immediately relax, shoulders slumping as you go up to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Jisung’s eyes flit towards it, but not for long before he opens the door and lets you lead the way.

The trip to the ice cream store was a short one, requiring only a train ride to the han rivers’ skirts where the shop is situated. The store itself was busy with people sitting all around snacking on its offerings, but once you get your respective ice creams and head out back towards the river, it’s a bit quieter; a breeze slips past you as you wrap an arm around yourself. With spring in the air, the trees’ full bloom flowers scatter around the pavement and are imprinted by the soles of your hoses as you walk by.

Finding a bench by the tree, the two of settle down on it, as you turn and face Jisung in anticipation of his first try.

“It’s really good, trust me. And it’s like a bit thicker with its mint rather than the chocolate bits which is a bit hard to do when you eat mint chocolate ice cream because it’s always the chocolate that's richer and you get si—” a spoonful of your ice cream is stuffed into your mouth, spluttering you to a stop as you glare at Jisung whos laughing at your expression.

“I had to shut you up one way,” You fist your hand at him in faux aggression, pulling out your spoon and placing it back into your cup.

“Just eat it quickly before it melts,” You exclaim with a hurried expression, feet bouncing up at down in anticipation. Jisung glances at you while he picks up his spoon, prodding at his ice cream before he picks up a spoonful of his ice cream, slowly bringing it to his mouth as he looks at your expression. He only laughs and detours his spoon once, bringing the spoon back up to his lips when the expression on your face shifts to a deadpan.

The pink of his lip contrasts with the mint colour of the ice cream dripping slightly from the spoon, as he finally fits the ice cream in and gives it a taste. Looking at his eyes with suspense, Jisung’s default expression of scepticism is what you see first, before it shifts into surprise, into confusion, and finally into the same expression as a kid getting candy. The glint in his eyes shines bright in the dim lighting that you’re in, as Jisung points to the ice cream while he continues consuming the ice cream.

“It’s good,”

“Of course it’s good. I wouldn’t bring you to try good mint chocolate if it wasn’t actually good mint chocolate,” You stifle a giggle when Jisung throws you a glower.

“You know what I mean,” At his positive reaction, you comfortably dug into your own ice cream, a comfortable silence blanketing you two with background noises of cyclers whizzing by and people talking in the distance.

“You’re doing really well,” Jisung starts with his eyes darted away, suddenly shy to look at you as he says, “In badminton, I mean. Your overhead shots are cleaner than mine.” Eyes still averted, he elbows you lightly with his compliment. You preen at his praise, leaning forward subconsciously to him with a thank you.

“It’s all thanks to you. If you weren’t as good as you are I wouldn’t even know that there are two methods of serving the shuttle.” 

Jisung’s laugh sounds less humorous, “Yeah, it must’ve been weird seeing me play alone during class,” There's a heavy pause as you visibly detect the boy sort through his next words. “I didn’t think you guys were . . . fond of me. When we first started,” You feel your stomach go white, colours flush from your face from his words. Did he know? Were you that blatant? You feel bad, remembering how isolated the boy was at that time as everyone distanced themselves since learning his level of expertise. You weren’t any better, the bitter feeling you harboured when you got ranked into the third group now coming back to you after three months of attending practice.

At the glum expression on your face, Jisung quickly goes to wave his hand. “Ah, it was— it wasn’t your fault or anything. I secluded myself too, so of course it would’ve been hard to talk as comfortably.” He rests his hand on yours that’s pressed against the bench, comforting you as if you’re the one whos been wronged, and not the other way around. Frowning at his consolation, you don’t know what comes over you as you flip your hand around, making your palm face his as you clasp his hands in yours.

You avoid looking at his expression as you make your bold move, looking at the river as you start. “If it makes you feel better, Jaemin always talks about how jealous he is of you whenever you do a smash,” Gathering the courage, you squeeze his fingers as you look at him, another question popping up in your head.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, of course, but—” You cut yourself short when Jisung nods his head at you, looking at you with a calm demeanour.

“Why do you still come to class if you’re already so good? I mean, I swear you’re at national levels at least,” Jisung snorts at your words, growing shy from your praise.

“I’m being serious, don’t laugh!” Even as you say your words with furrowed eyebrows, your efforts barely last as you smile at his bashful posture. Puffing his cheeks, he ponders a bit on how to answer your question; you’re about to tell him to just forget it, not wanting him to answer something so personal, when he straightens his posture and stares ahead with a determined expression.

“The first time I played badminton was at a family gathering for new years, and I might’ve been four or maybe five when my dad put a racket in my hand and swung my arm around to hit at the throws my cousins would send my way. Then when I got older and was forced to play actual sports in school, the only thing that I was willing to play was badminton. I didn’t try hard in the beginning and was there because I heard that the teacher conducting it didn’t really care,” You snort at the picture of young Jisung barely lifting his hand to play, or letting the shuttle zoom right past him while flinching away entirely.

“But when the interschool competitions came around and I was ranked in the last group to play, I had won by pure luck,” He rubs his hands up and down his pants as he reminisces, shoulder rubbing against your subconsciously. “And then everyone started cheering me on because apparently, my accidental win had helped us accelerate to the next round. It made me feel good that I was the cause of such a thing, so I tried a bit harder the next time. Then I asked the higher ranking kids to help me with my serving, and then my mom to admit me to a badminton class, and I ranked up from F to D, and then to B and then A. My class started to admit me to local competitions outside of school hours, and then it had become such a big part of my life that I was determined to get to a national scale.”

“Did you?” Your voice was quiet when you spoke, ending with a bit of a rasp from its lack of use. You were on the edge of your seat if your position meant anything, arms wrapped around your knees, thighs pressed to your chest, making the waistband of your shorts dig a bit higher. Jisung’s smile is a sentimental one, reminiscent of a win resulting from years of effort.

“I was fifteen when I was cast by a racket sports centre, which focused on training people ranging from kids to young adults to get to national competitions and even more. I was over the moon and became one of those kids you barely see in class and when you do, they’re just sleeping through the subject. My first competition was scheduled three months after my admission, which was unheard of; even kids who have been learning at the place for two years would struggle to pass the first rounds for the entry.” Your eyes move along Jisung’s hand, as he comically explains his words through the movement of his fingers, expanding and collapsing joints onto one another.

“I didn’t win the first one, but I won the second, and the third, and built a streak - although short, just four months into training. In the beginning, it was all so exhilarating, the thrill of winning the title of first place with all these people who were just as gifted, if not even more. And so I would win because I was capable, I didn’t win because I was it was expected of me.”

“But,” You murmur as Jisung halts, bringing his hand down as his fingers fiddle with the texture of the bench. 

“But,” His excitement has burnt down to a sort of nostalgia, and you reach your hand down and clasp your hand over his again, before he looks down and turns his hand, palm facing yours as he links your fingers together. “But then, when I was seventeen, I had passed the initial rounds for the national Olympic competition. It was big news; our centre hadn’t had someone do that in decades, and that was when the pressure was tangible.

“My parents would schedule my day down to the minutes, and my coach made my diet strict, telling me what exactly I should eat each day until the competition. I loved the order and agenda that was set for me; I didn’t have to think what’s next? I just had to keep doing what I was good at. But then came the first round of the match, and the people were ruthless. No one was there to watch two teenagers play badminton, but instead fight for their lives. I didn’t think much about it until my third round that day when the kid I was playing against deliberately tried to hit the ball to my face.” 

You couldn’t help it, your laugh had spilt out before you could even think of stopping it, but Jisung’s squeeze against your hand assured you that it was fine, as he chuckled with you.

“Who the fuck practices hitting the ball at someone's face?” Your voice was pitched higher with exasperation. “Do you reckon he had a cardboard cutout of you to practice on? I doubt someone can do the calculations of face-hitting range that quickly under pressure.” Jisung contemplates your idea teasingly, tilting his head and measuring random angels with his free hand. Seeing that, the weight of your hand held against his now weighs tenfold, as the butterfly in your stomach flutters with the subconscious squeeze of his fingers. You bump at his shoulder as you squeeze yourself closer, bringing your linked hands to rest against your stomach, wanting to hold him closer. 

“It was definitely weird, but it didn’t set me off my rhythm, I just thought that it was a way to rile people up. But my coach was the one irritated, and when the boy had almost hit my eye, that was when my coach started to interfere,” You can only imagine the noise surrounding seventeen-year-old Jisung, his coach stepping forward to halt the game and talking to the referee to take some sort of action, pointing accusing fingers at the opponent and their mentors. 

“The place that we were competing at was big, bigger than what I was used to back then, and there were a lot of people and so it was noisy;  but the noise that my coach and the kid were making was something else. When my coach came back to me, all riled up, I couldn’t do much but take in his energy. I remember being very tense, thinking that I should just step my ground a bit more next time ‘round so they wouldn’t think of doing something like aiming the shuttle at my face.

“I think it was either the fifth? Or the sixth round, when I was in the zone of playing ‘professionally’ rather than doing what I was already good at. I would do overhead deliveries and front-hand serves even though I’d rather do a simple back-hand. Then there was an opening for a smash, it was a weak point for the guy— and I was over the moon with the opportunity. I’d only done the smash successfully maybe enough to count off of my fingers, but I knew that if I timed it right I would get it,” Dread fills your stomach at the direction that Jisung is going, You’re sure if you clench your fingers any harder there would be an imprint left of the poor boy's hand, but Jisung either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care.

Jisung’s chuckle drifts lightly in the air, “I was too enthusiastic, and I bunched up all my energy into hitting the ball that I’d missed the perfect time and instead had delivered a simple overhead. It would’ve been okay otherwise, I mean, I was able to deliver something instead of losing a measly point, but before I could recover, the shuttle had travelled to the back end of the court, and in my attempt of getting it, I’d tripped and landed pretty badly,” While telling the story, Jisung’s free hand had been wandering over his clothed knee, fingers fiddling with the fabric and one another. Bunching up the fabric at the end of his pant, he pushes up the lax fabric up and over his knee, where a pink and slightly faded surgical scar paints the inner side of his knee. Your hand clasps over your mouth once met with the scar, and your heart fills with admiration as you see him trace his healed gash with sentimentality. Bringing your linked hands to rest on your knee, you prop your cheek against it while looking at him, sparkling eyes encouraging him to continue.

“I couldn’t play anymore after that, not with the same vigour I had before. Suddenly I had to go back to class regularly and didn’t have to do any sort of reps just so I don’t fall behind on my weekly plan. My schedule had more free time than anything, and so I had enough time to get to thinking; what if I hadn’t misstepped? Would I have won? But I knew that all of that thinking wouldn’t do me any good. So when I was watching the Olympics months later, I remember seeing the camera pan onto the coaches, and how happy they were to see their student playing. I missed the joy of playing for the thrill and adrenaline of moving around, and so I thought, why not become a coach?” Understanding fills you as you realise why Jisung is going through all this effort of attending a class that he’s exponentially overqualified for. His cheeks go red as he realises your gaze settling over his figure, now looking away from you and onto the still water. 

You can’t help it, you find it simply so endearing that he’s set his time into achieving something to allow people to have fun with badminton. Feeling overwhelmed with affection from his story and words and actions, you lean over and place a peck on to his cheek. 

The contact was brief, as your lips barely took in the smoothness of his skin before you’re coming back with a start. “Oh my god, Jisung. That’s so cute, you’re generous and you’re going out of your way to do such good things, and you didn't deserve to go through that at such a young age—” Your words were smushed together as you barely reach the end of your sentence, the cause being Jisung’s big hands gently attacking your cheeks at once. His wide eyes stare straight at yours as his colder hands warm against the puff of your cheeks; and you are seconds away from voicing your confusion before you see his gaze settling on your pouted lips, glistening and redder from the ice cream. 

You couldn’t even smile teasingly at him, as his hands refrain you from doing so. The nervous adrenaline running in your vein might be another reason too, but you don’t get to ponder on that for long before you see Jisung’s tilted head leaning closer, hooded eyes glancing at your eyes before focusing back on your lips, wanting to imprint it’s cute pouted shape.

The warmth of his lips lands on your cold ones, sending a wave of warmth to wash over you. You can feel his desire through the pressure of his lips against you, his soft lips fitting over yours lovingly. You mourn the loss as soon as Jisung pulls back, but not for long before he presses another close-mouthed kiss, this time with his hand tilting your head the other way, fingers slipping and cupping your jaw gently. Your stomach warms as you feel the fervour within Jisung, from the tip of his cold fingers on your heated cheeks to the push of his body towards you, wanting to get closer with each passing second. 

When he pulls back, his eyes are clouded with the haze of your kiss and a bit of timidity. Your giggle bubbles between you, causing him to smile along with you, his shyness catching up. Not wanting his hand to stray far as they fall from your face, you clasp at his palm and lace your fingers, pulling down to get his face closer to yours, placing a peck at his nose first, scrunched from being bashful, and then one on his lips. And another, and another, then it’s him who’s leaning in and slotting his lips against yours, and you’re pulling your linked hands behind your back and let go, opting to slot your hand behind his neck.

After two, three, and four more kisses to the cheek, forehead and lips, you tuck your head into the junction of his shoulder and neck, feeling shy from doing all of this in public. Jisung’s laugh is sweet to your ears, hands rubbing up and down your back before brushing at the ends of your hair. 

“Give a warning next time round, will you?” You tease as you pull back, hand falling on his forearms, eyes looking everywhere but at his.

“Sorry, you just looked too cute. I felt this sudden urge to either bite you or kiss you,”

You pull back even more, hands coming up to shield yourself in mock reservation. “I don’t know if I should be thankful you chose the second option or fear for when the first option will happen,”

Jisung hums, “Maybe both?”

Your pinkies are linked as you walk along the river, basking in each other's presence as you talk, shoulders brushing every now and then. It’s when you’re both childishly debating about who had fallen first when Jisung suddenly points his finger at you accusingly.

“Is that why you forgot your towel?” His question comes out more genuine than anything, as he tilts his head quickly in thought. With a light gasp, you smack at his shoulder before your arm falls back and crosses on your shoulders, scandalised. “I didn’t!”

“Was that how you were gonna seduce me? By forgetting your towel and having me bring it to you? What was next, you wanted me to lotion your legs for you too?” You can tell he’s teasing this time around, as his tongue pokes at his cheek ever so slightly to withhold the grin that was blooming across his features.

You point your finger at him, catching on. “You probably distracted me with your whole ‘which bottle of shampoo’ debacle just to make me forget it.” Poking at his chest with eyes squinted in suspicion, “You wanted to see me naked on the first date? That’s not very decorum of you.”

Jisung scoffs and rolls his eyes at your accusation, shoulders squaring to better defend himself. “I don’t need to go through all of that just to get to you,” He throws you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, a rush of giddiness washing over him with the look of your flustered expression.

“You’re right,” This time, you’re looking at his lips as you say this, catching Jisung off-guard with your compliance. Moving closer, you rest your hands on his arms, pushing yourself up and closer to his body, chests brushing. Your voice, barely above a whisper, brushes against his ear, “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get to me, baby.” 

You know the smile on your face is menacing if Jisung’s gaze on you is anything to go by, partly annoyed and part timid. Ghosting one of your hands down his arm, you slip your fingers in between his and give them a squeeze, giggling as you swing your arm back a forth a bit like a school couple.

Jisung’s next sentence takes a bit of effort to say if his demeanour is anything to go by. With his gaze settled on your intertwined hands and a slightly open mouth— as if to say something, you give his hand another gentle squeeze to encourage him. 

The gleam in his eyes looks more assured as he straightens his posture and looks directly into your eyes, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Do you wanna go back to mine?”

Leaning in, you give another peck on his cheek, his scent pleasantly wafting through your nose. “I’d love to,”

You can feel the tension grow with the sound of the door closing and sounding its locking chime, toeing off your shoes as you look up at Jisung. He reaches out a hand towards you once you straighten up, pulling you close and guiding you towards the door of his bedroom.

Like the rest of the house, Jisung’s room is clean but still spotted with signs of use, with his desk having papers and laptop wires strewn around while a plethora of empty hangers are placed at the foot of his closet. As he sits on the bed, with his hand still holding yours, he tugs you forward, his free hand going to your thigh, clasping above your knee. 

His eyes glisten as he looks up at you, “This okay?” his touch ghosts on you as he asks this. You nod your head, wanting him to touch you, needing him to touch you more. His fingers grow bolder and heavier in weight, as his hand clasps at the back of your thigh, bending your leg and resting it next to his thigh. Understanding his movements, you follow suit, settling yourself on his thighs with your linked hands resting on his stomach. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against you, easing in with feathery light touches. The slot of your mouths against each other starts a small fire in your stomach, as you push yourself onto him more, needing him to know that you crave more. 

He sighs against your lips as you settle down more, the pressure not far from where he wants it the most. He kisses you feverishly, the smack of your lips growing louder with each plant of his lips. His touches grow heavier as his fingers go from grazing against your knees to tracing lines up your thighs, barely a touch away from settling under the seem of your skirt. Knitting your fingers in his hair, his hand flies to your love handles, squeezing them in an attempt to ground himself. A sigh leaves his lips when you separate just the slightest bit, taking a breather as you kiss the corner of his lips, hands falling from the ends of his hair down to his collarbones and at the bottom of his shirt. Your spread your fingers on the skin of his stomach, nails skimming ever so slightly making Jisung’s breath hitch, his stomach tensing under your touch, eyes still closed as he takes in your touch, his stomach knotting from finally being able to do this with you.

With his grip already tight on your waist, he maneuvers you off his lap and sits you on his bed, crawling between your legs, making you open them and welcome him in as you lie down on his bed. He kisses you again, his hands now staking claim everywhere he can, pushing your shirt up to your ribs, fingers grazing against your bud form under your bra before he brings his hands down and kneads at your thighs.

“Jisung,” You sigh when he swipes his tongue against your lips. He takes your tongue in his mouth, humming against it at your call, its vibration sending hot waves down your body. His touches on your body take you higher, but you need more.

And so you say just as much, “More, give me more.”

“Fuck,” He sighs against your lip, “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give you more, anything for you,” Pressing one last peck against your lip, you see his body slide down your figure, his fingers going to unhook your bra as you arch your back. He groans at the sight of your breasts free from your bra. “I love your tits, so much,”  His hands are big against you, but they fit perfectly against the cup of your breasts, squeezing them together as he smothers himself against your cleavage. He licks a stripe of each bud, before focusing on your left one with his mouth, tongue lapping around the swell as he sucks, opting to circle his fingers on your other tit before pinching it harshly, making you keen against him.

You rake your fingers in his hair, petting him. “Such a good boy, you make me feel so good,” Your words make him whine against your breast, making his hip stutter against the mattress,  for some sort of friction. He releases one hand from cupping your breasts, opting to use one hand while his now free hand dances its way down your torso, unzipping your skirt and taking it off, before meeting the seam of your panties. With his pointer finger, he hovers a line ever so slightly on your slit, eyes wide as he glances at the pleasure breaking out on your face and the wetness of your underwear spreading.

He keeps his touch light, drawing circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear, frustrating you. You huff when he uses the point of his fingers and presses the slightest amount into your hole, the fabric refraining you from feeling his direct touch. You pull at his hair that’s winded through your fingers, urging him on; he moans at the pull, getting the memo once he looks up at your face with an eye squeezed closed from pain or pleasure. Or both.

He licks at your entrance briefly through your panties, the heat and wetness making you moan, before his fingers finally fit themselves into the seam, sliding them down your legs. You feel more than see his gaze on your core, hooded eyes watching it squeeze around nothing as his fingers tease around it. He comes back up to you and presses his lips against yours, lips slotting together briefly before you feel his thumb rub against your sensitive nub, his middle finger prodding at your hole, eyes watching your face as he pushes the pad of his finger against you. You keen when his finger fills you, as he pushes his finger back and forth, his thumb following by pressing into your clit and pulling away rhythmically. He brings his head against your neck, licking a stripe against you before his teeth catch on your skin, lips wrapping themselves around you straight after, sucking into you before parting and finding another part of your skin to taint. He quickens his pace with his one finger, but it’s not enough, you can barely get enough of him.

Hugging his head that’s still tucked at your neck, you scratch at his scalp soothingly before pulling at strands of his hair. “Jisung,” You pant, “Another one, fill me up, please,”

“You want more?” He bites at your jaw lightly, before he pecks your lips lovingly, as if he isn’t trying to have you come undone with his fingers alone. You nod your head, “Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You beg as your cup the side of his face, your eyes looking at his blown-out pupils, probably no different than yours.

Jisung gronas at your words. “You’ve been so good, such a good girl.” He pulls his finger out so just the tip of it hangs onto your gaping hole, before he joins in another finger, two fingers now filling you. You whimper out a thank you, hands clutching at his shoulders as he picks up the pace, hand now slapping against your cunt, fingers curling inside your sopping pussy. Your body feels like it’s floating and coiling into itself all at once, with Jisung’s unrelenting fingers contrasting his gentle pecks and scrape of teeth against your skin. Every few thrusts and squeeze against his fingers have his hips grind down, sometimes grazing against your leg, making you feel his hard-on.

You bring your hand down from his shoulder, curling it at the bottom of his shirt before tugging at it, mumbling the word off. He pulls back slightly and pulls his shirt off with his free hand while you help with getting it over his head. You scratch your nails against the lines of his stomach, eliciting a hiss out of his before you palm at the outline of his cock through his sweatpants. “You listen so well, don't you? Always doing your best,” You pant out, testing the waters as you tuck the tips of your finger under his waistband. His moan comes out higher in pitch with your words, hips jutting forward and into your touch.

“Good for you,” he breathes against your cheek, eyes squeezed shut at the brush of your fingers against his clothed cock, muttering another fuck under his breath, rutting into your palm for more. 

You’re losing your patience, as Jisung speeds up his hand even more, the pleasure bordering with pain from his pace and harsher bites Jisung plants on you, too far gone with pleasuring you to be mindful of his strength. 

You can feel your orgasm reaching, breath hitching and your stomachs coil tightening further and further. You wrap your hand around Jisung’s wrist, slowing him down slowly before prodding them out of you. You whine at the emptiness briefly but are soothed when Jisung plants wet kisses against your collarbone. You push yourself up onto your shoulders, making Jisung shuffle back slightly in order to not lose touch with you, Reaching over, you dig through your bag and pull out a condom, shaking it between your bodies to bring Jisung’s attention to it.

The sound of the plastic wrapper catches his gaze, “You’re gonna let me put it in?” He grabs the packet from your hand before gently pushing you back down. He kisses you again, seeming to not get enough, as he pushes his pants and boxers down in one go, his tip smacking against the soft lines of his stomach and leaving a glisten. The rip of the packet sounds before he rolls it on, and you shift closer when you feel the tip of his cock lined up with your pussy.

The sheets ruffle around you as Jisung comes down and places a kiss on your cheek before looking into your eyes. “Ready?” He asks, and with a nod of your head, you feel him slowly ease himself into you. The stretch feels amazing, as you both moan into each other mouths, your hands squeezing and wandering everywhere around Jisung’s shoulders, back, torso. 

Jisung sighs, “Fuck,” His grip on your waist tightens, the pressure turning you on even more, squeezing around his cock. “You feel so good, so tight,”

“Fuck, Jisung,” You groan out as he quickens his pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your skin picking up. “Fuck, you’re doing so well. Stretching me out so good,” Jisung throws his head back, eyes squeezing shut at the pulse of your pussy around his member. He looks back down, wanting to see the join of your bodies, pulling out till his tip, before ramming himself back in, losing himself to the blissful feeling.

The knot in your stomach tightens. “Jisung, I’m close—” You’re cut off by your own moan as Jisung starts rubbing at your clit again, building a rhythm to his thrusts into you. 

“Yeah? Fuck, let go baby,” He grunts as he bends down, his cock twitching inside of you as he kisses your lips before tucking his head back into your neck, lapping at your skin as he keeps up his speed with his fingers on your clit and his thrusts inside you. Your body curls up as your orgasm crashes into you, hands hugging at Jisung’s shoulders tighter as your thighs squeeze around his hips, keeping him in your pulsing core. Panting, you release your grip from his hip, bringing your leg down and patting Jisung’s head, wanting to kiss him again. 

As he pulls away from you, you lean up and plant a kiss on his lips, chest bursting with the affection you feel while coming down. Jisung pulls his cock out from you, going slow as to not overwhelm you. He pulls off his condom, not having cum yet as his cock smacks against his stomach, the precum from the tip joining the light sheen of sweat covering his body. He fists his hand around his cock, tugging and pumping himself to a finish. You’re too spent to give him a helping hand, but you decide you haven’t spent your mouth enough.

“Pretty boy, you’re doing so well,” He hunches over your body at your words. “Looks so good fisting your own cock like that,”

“Fuck,” He groans, “If you keep going I’m gonna—”

“Cum baby, make a mess on me,” You run your hand up his thigh, before pulling up and grabbing at his hair and combing through the strands. His moan comes out high pitched as his hips stutter into his fist, before a spurt of come shoots out and lands on your stomach. He twists his fist around the head of his cock as he milks it out, before heaving a sigh and slumping down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before he lies by your side, cupping his body into yours. You continue running your hand in his hair as he settles on your shoulder, his cheek poking out which makes you poke at it. A giggle is shared as the giddiness of you two being together in the moment settles in, and when you go to place a kiss at his forehead, you’re reminded of the wetness of sweat all over your body and the slowly drying cum on your stomach.

“Oh, let me go get something,” He gets up and goes to his bathroom, coming back with a few paper towels and a wet cloth. Rubbing down your spent body, he pats you dry with the paper towel before putting them away and plopping down next to you, wrapping his arm around you and tucking himself close.

“I didn’t know you were the cuddly type,” You say as you hug at his shoulders, hands rubbing up and down as a faux massage.

“Well, I mean, I can let go?” Jisung’s nervous front grows again, as he goes to put some distance between the two of you. But before he could get far, you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulder as you hook your leg around his, stopping him from pulling away.

“I never said it was bad; I like this girlfriend bonus.” Jisung’s hair bounces as he pops his head up to look at you.

“Girlfriend bonus? Does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?”

“Only if you agree to my boyfriend bonuses,” You shrug. He laughs as he places his head back on your shoulder. “What are these so-called ‘boyfriend bonuses’ of yours?” You tap at your chin mockingly as you think.

“You can fuck my boobs next time?” You shrug again. His head whips up faster this time ‘round.

“Are you serious? Don’t joke about it, because if you are I won’t be—” You smack your hands on his cheeks, squeezing his lips into a pout. His shoulders slump at your attempt of shutting him up, eyebrows drooping as he gazes at you, making you laugh at his expression as you squish his cheeks repeatedly.

“Okay, good job guys, take a water break.” Coach Son claps, as everyone shuffles to their bags and grab at their bottles. Jisung’s elbow brushes against yours as he grabs his bottle from his bag next to yours, taking a few light sips before he places it down, looking at you with his cheeks full of water. It takes all his might to not spit the water out as you elbow him back and raise your fingers tauntingly, moving closer as if you’re about to tickle him.

Before you can successfully begin your quest, Coach lets out a sound as to gather you guys back ‘round, clapping his hands twice before waving you guys in.

“Since we’re coming to the end of the semester and you guys have proved to work really hard, I’m gonna conduct one last test to see how much your levels have changed since the beginning of the semester!”

“Oh my god,” You whisper out to Jisung as your hand cups your mouth, wide eyes looking at his as his eyebrows raise in surprise. This could finally be the moment that you can prove yourself, advancing onto a higher level to have an overall better ranking.

“Who wants to go first?” Jaemin steps up and raises his hand, confidently wanting to prove his skills. 

He plays a round with the coach, showing signs of trying his best and knowing how to play, but his reaction speed comes a bit too late as he misses the shuttles by a step. Sometimes two. Sometimes he mixes up his left from his right, but that’s just occasionally. Minji and Ryujin play a round each, and show good improvement throughout the semester.

“You should go next,” Jisung leans into as he whispers, both of your gazes settled on the coach and Ryujin going back and forth with clears being delivered. Your blood rushes quicker at the thought of playing an official round, thinking of all the mistakes you can make that would cost you. 

Sensing your nerves, Jisung places his hand on yours, grabbing it before giving the palm of your hand soothing rubs. “To help with the nerves,” He says when you look at your joint hands questioningly.

“Alright, next player?” Giving your hand a light squeeze, Jisung lets go and ushers you forward onto the court, as you raise your hand slightly, grabbing at your racket once Coach nods you in.

Arranging yourself, you pick up the shuttle left at your side and get into your serve position. You hit the shuttle and serve, commencing the game. You are able to reciprocate most of coach’s deliveries, stepping left and right when needed and angling your racket to optimise your own delivery, but it’s when you’re halfway through the game with Coach Son’s and your score being eleven and ten respectively, coach starts playing with a more advanced method. The drops become more frequent, catching you off guard as you have to run from the back to the front of the court in order to make it to the shuttle, as well as the clears going in different angles making you almost trip a few times as you attempt to make it to them.

Jisung has his fist at his mouth as he watches you from the side, with everyone else in awe at how quickly you’re moving compared to the last time they played officially.

“How did she get so good?” Haechan questions with his hand pressed on his racket. The whole class shifts their head from left to right at the sidelines as they watch you battling it out with their coach, the shuttle relentlessly being delivered with neither of you wanting to lose touch of it.

“It’s the perks she gets for having an almost professional-level badminton player of a boyfriend.” Ryujin’s smile is devoid of any callousness, patting at Jisung’s shoulder as she says this. Jisung can feel his cheeks grow red as he splutters into his sleeve, hiding his flustered expression as the rest of them shout out their reactions.

“All credit goes to her, she’s just a diligent student.” 

“I can be diligent too,” Jaemin bats his lashes as he leans in from Jisung’s other side, but flinches and clutches at his shoulder when Soojin smacks him.

Back on the court, you’re starting to lose your breath when Coach delivers another serve to the back of the court, shuttle going straight as you attempt to create enough distance to successfully hit back. As he does a clear delivery, you position yourself at the back fo the court in order to meet his hit, before quickly centring yourself, preparing for his next move. From a steady pattern of his serves growing in your head, you were more than ready to reciprocate his short hit of the shuttle near the net, as you step forward and hit back.

Usually, you would’ve stumbled to hit the shuttle back at maximum velocity, sending it flying up and giving Coach more than enough time to think of his next move. But from your extra hours of playing with Jisung, you’re picked up the knack of delivering a short end with another short end, making the shuttle travel only the slightest bit over the net and plummeting down into the court. Coach Son is caught off guard when you do this, but his reflexes from years of practise kicks in, and before he could process his actions, he delivers a lob, sending the shuttle high in the air. Jisung gasps from the sidelines, making everyone alert.

He calls out your name, “Smash! Do a smash!” 

With your eye settled on the descending shuttle, you think back to the one class you had with Jisung.

“You hit a clear when the shuttle can meet your hand at twelve o’clock. You have to wait for it to drop to the same level that you’re hand would be at a ten o’clock position to be able to deliver a smash; but remember that you have to keep going with your delivery until your hand reaches six o’clock.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You’re still not sure what he meant, but with the fall of the shuttle, you’re not really at the privilege of recalling things for a long amount of time. 

Positioning your hand at the first base, you wait for the shuttle to be at least a few inches from your head before you reach out, smacking at the shuttle and aiming at the bottom of the court. Coach, who was ready for you to hit the shuttle to the back of the court like you usually do, was not ready for the shuttle which was arriving at a quick pace. In a blink, the shuttle lands just past his ankles, and you’ve officially scored a point.

“Jisung!” You scream once the shuttle lands, looking at your boyfriend who was staring intently at your match. A look of victory glows across his face as his mouth drops in disbelief, eyebrows raised and fists clenched, over the moon at what you had just accomplished.

“I smashed! I did it! I smashed so hard oh my god, I think my arms gonna fall off,” The game is far from done for you to be celebrating like this, but you’re without care when the rest of the class cheers for you, Minji running up to you to give you a hug. You both start jumping with giddy while the rest join in, all while the coach looks at your huddled bunch with a smile on his face.

“This is Juda and this one is Chenle.”

“Why’d you talk about me as if I was a dog?”

“Because you are,” Juda shrugs before she plucks out a Yakult bottle from the packet in her hand, swingin it above Chenle’s face. “Who wants a treat? You do! Who’s a good boy?”

“Nice to . . . meet you guys too?” Jisung’s wave hangs mid air as he looks at Chenle slowly shift from a expressionless face to enthusiastically nodding his head up and down, wanting the drink.

“What did I tell you? You’ll fit just right in with us,” You link your arm through Jisung’s elbow, pulling him into your shared house with Juda before sitting him down on the couch. Juda and Chenle follow after, with the latter having his own bottle open and already emptied halfway. Juda offers Jisung yakult bottle, and goes to pick up the remote, going through the movies to put something on. You quickly grab a few snacks from the kitchen and come back, settling yourself right next to Jisung, leaving no space between the both of you.

“Wait,” Chenle turns to look at you from his positon on the ground, grimacing a bit at the sight of you two cuddled up, before continuing. “What happened with the new ranking then?” Your smile is shy when you look at him and Juda looking back at you expectantly. 

“I got into group B.”

“YES!” Chenle whoops, grabbing Juda and shaking her by the shoulders. “No more whining and complaining and whinging about the class!” You chuckle as you cheer alongside him, with Jisung looking at your interactions with raised eyebrows. 

Laughing, you tuck yourself into his side, linking your arms again as you rest your head on his shoulder. With Juda and Chenle bickering about settling on what movie to watch, you press a quick kiss on his cheek in appreciation.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” You smile at him, to which he grins shyly at. “Even though I lost, the smash pulled me through. Your smashing abilities were so flawless that even I, a young duckling was able to smash through,”

“Okay, thank you for the compliment but maybe don’t say how good my smashing abilities are—”

“You just smash so hard and so well—”

“Please—”

“Jisung the smash master!”

if you liked this, dont be afraid to tell me !

[depression-napping]

Topics of Vincent

(Your resident translator was on a plane and had plenty of time to do some work so here we go with the second page of his profile ❤️)

This is long so content is under the cut

1) 身体に秘めたる魔獣の因子

The factor of the magical beasts hidden in his body

ヴィンセントはその体内に魔獣の因子を宿しており、ガリアンビーストに変身する能力を持つ。変身後は、俊敏さと力強さを兼ね備えた、文字どおり人間離れした動きが可能となる一方で、理性を失って暴走するため、肉体にはかなりの負荷がかかってしまう模様。ヴィンセントが睡眠に多くの時間を割くのは、特殊な体質のせいなのかもしれない。

Because of the factor that Vincent houses magical beasts within his body, he has the ability to transform into Galian Beast. After transforming, he gains the ability to move with both speed and strength that is literally superhuman. At the same time, his rational mind gives way to wild rampaging, and it seems to take quite a toll on his body. The fact that Vincent spares a lot of time sleeping may be due to the peculiar nature of his physical make-up.

2) 新しめの機械には弱い？

Is he bad with new technology?

ヴィンセントは、電源が入っていないカードリーダーを故障していると思い込み、起動させられずに四苦八苦*するなど、機械のあつかいには不慣れな様子を見せる。とはいえ、機械全般にわけではなく、タイニーブロンコに搭載された旧式の無線機は難なく使いこなしており、どちらかといえば古めの機械のほうがなじみがあるようだ。

Vincent has the mistaken impression that the card reader doesn’t work as it’s lacking a power source, and the device not activating seems to cause him all manner of distress*. [Please see the footnote this phrase is amazing] It seems he is inexperienced with handling such devices. Even so, it doesn’t mean he is generally bad with all technology per se, as he was able to easily handle the wireless radio on the Tiny Bronco. That is to say, he seems to be more familiar with older machines.

(*I just want to talk about this phrase 四苦八苦. It almost sent me into hysterics. It’s pronounced “shikuhakku” and it means great distress, but literally translates to “four and eight kinds of suffering.” It’s another idiomatic expression with Buddhist roots that refers to “birth, old age, disease, death, parting from loved ones, meeting disliked ones, not getting what one seeks,” and so on. Basically a summary of his life so far, minus the old age. But the fact that they used this term specifically to talk about his distress at newfangled technology just sent me. Literally you can read this as “modern technology causes him four and eight kinds of suffering.” Like the rest of what he’s gone through isn’t 四苦八苦? But the card reader not working is. I’m dead ya’ll. Like. Vincent needs this on a shirt. I need this on a shirt.)

3) Original VII Playback (Vincent Summary)

仲間に加えるかどうかを任意で選べるキャラクターながら、セフィロスや宝条と深い因縁があり、物語の背景を知るうえでは重要な役どころだった。関連作品のひとつ「Dirge of Cerberus -FFVII-」では主人公を務める。

The player can choose whether to befriend Vincent as he is an optional character. Since he has a deep connection to Sephiroth and Hojo, viewed in the context of the game’s background story, the role he plays is essential. He takes on the role of the main character in the related game, Dirge of Cerberus.

「フ… 悪夢にうなされる長き眠りこそ

私に与えられたつぐないの時間」

“Hmph… my long, nightmare-laden sleep has given me time to atone…”

(Picture captions)

追い詰められると、咆哮とともに赤黒いオーラをまとい、凶暴性さらに増す。

When pushed to the wall, with a loud roar, clad in a dark red aura, his savage nature increases further.

壊れた思ったものを叩いたり振ったりして直そうとするあたりは、どことなく前世代的。

When he tries to fix something he thought was broken by hitting and shaking it, somehow it seems like he’s from another generation.

[awhisperofbluevn]

Happy (belated) new year !

Okay, I'm a little late, but we're still in January so it's still time ! Take thie merman drawing as an apology !

To be honest, with all the festivities, I just wanted to take a break with social medias.

With that being said, let me wish you all a happy 2025, and hope it will be a successful year for us all !

Now I think is a great opportunity to make an update about the development and my plans for the game in the future.

It's probably going to be a bit long, so I'll leave the rest under the cut for those who just want to enjoy the merman's face.

I'm going to say it now, but I don't know when the full game will be done.

To be honest, it probably won't be in 2025, as I'm still very much alone to write, program and draw. I don't want to put too much pressure on myself for a first game but I still want something clean in the end.

Honestly, I'd want to make a complex game with different routes depending on the kind of relationship you have with the love interest and the MC's personality, add a million different choices so each player have a different exprience, but I think that's still too complex for me at this moment, so I'll have to lower my ambitions. I can only offer very basic personalization options for the MC and a classic system of affection points. But maybe for a future game when I'll gain experience, who knows...? (yes I do have ideas, but one project at a time)

Now what I can say is that I'm planning two to three big updates in total (excluding small updates to correct bugs and fix typos).

I'm not exactly sure because while I do have the main story in my head, I don't know how long each part will be yet. I'd like to make them at least as long as the current demo, but I'll have to actually write it to know exactly how to divise those parts.

Now, about what I'd like to add/change in the current game :

The menu. If I can, I'd like something more dynamic and less... I don't know. I think it looks too basic.

CGs for bad endings. Not a priority, as I'd rather work on the main route and it's just going to add to my workload, but I still think it'll be nice.

A gallery button. I don't know how to do that yet, but I think it'll be cool for people to see all the CGs and see which ending they didn't get, plus it just makes sense if I add bad ending CGs.

A guide for all endings. Again, not a priority since there's currently not much content, but it will be done when the game will be at a more advanced stage.

Finally, I can't share much for the next update, but I can tell you what to expect !

New characters.

New backgrounds.

New CGs.

And probably more, but I don't want to make promises too quickly.

I don't know when the next update will be exactly, give it a few months.

And that's all I can share with you !

I'll go back to answer asks soon enough, my askbox is still open !

Once again, happy new year to you all !💙

[hellobitchlet]

Some brief-ish notes on what happened in the 'collab' event, for hsr players who don't have hi3:

-I'm not going to go too deep into explaining the story, because a lot of it would involve me trying to explain why there is a 4th wall breaking chibi who is canonically an hi3 player transported into the game by a character who was never supposed to canonically exist. I don't want to do that, and it was complete bullshit anyways.

-here's the actual important part; Sparkle has decided that she really likes Vita, the gray haired girl you've probably seen in the 'collab' promotional stuff. It's generally implied that she's trying to convince her to become a masked fool. She set up a simulation/game for her and Vita to play, where you have to play a card game called a fool's hand (clearly based off of poker) with npc's to get to the next world. She then threatened to wreck havoc on Mars or something (I don't remember exactly what it was) (there's a civilization on Mars. Vita is protecting Mars. It's a long story) and framed Sampo by somehow dragging him into the game and making him be the 'mastermind'. It's never explained how she got Sampo there. She then erased her memories of creating the game, bc Vita is a psychic and would've clocked her instantly otherwise, and made herself one of the players.

-the chibi is also following them around, because it's not like you could just, oh idk... play as Sparkle or Vita? So long story short, chibi, Vita, and Sparkle go through a weird simulation/shallow video game to 'defeat a masked fool' because otherwise, they will 'attack Mars' or something. In the last part of the story, Sampo is framed as the mastermind, and Sparkle gets her memories back. But when they finally get to Sampo, he blames everything on Sparkle, pretty much acting the same way towards her that he does in Masquerade Duet. Vita and Sparkle fight Sampo and win, and it's revealed that Sparkle was the real mastermind. She puts on her new hi3 skin (for some reason?) and runs off.

-the 'worlds' in the game are basically hsr's worlds. You go through a largely boring Herta Space Station, a Belobog where everyone is a buff trashcan because Hoyo refuses to let go of that, a Luofu where everything seems normal until npc Welt casually reveals that he's the general and that he abandoned his job bc he doesn't like it(no, I'm not kidding), and a place that's sort of supposed to be Penacony but not really? it's a long story.

-oh yeah, and there was an npc Void Archives who replaced Luocha in Luofu's story pretty much. They tried to blow Sparkle and Vita up and then lost to them in the card game. That also happened.

-I'm doubtful that Hoyo thought anything in this event through, but I am kind of curious about one detail; Roza and Lili. These 2 don't currently have hsr expies, yet Sparkle made npc's for them in both Belobog and the Luofu. I mean, they're not the only ones- there's also Einstein, Tesla, and Rita. But Roza and Lili were the only ch's who appeared in multiple worlds (which chibi points out), and they appeared a lot more than other ch's who aren't playing as a hsr ch. I wouldn't expect this to mean anything, but it would be cool if this were foreshadowing Roza and Lili getting hsr expies whom Sparkle knows.

-(speaking of the game's content not meaning anything, how does Sparkle even know like.. half of the info in this game? Either she knows what a lot of hi3 ch's look like, about hi3 Seele's did AND Veliona's exact personality AND relationship to Seele, Luocha doing suspicious stuff on the Luofu, and Welt creating Arahato and being obsessed with mechs... or the devs just weren't thinking when they made this. It's probably the second option)

-Sparkle says some interesting things about Sampo-

-upon finally confronting each other and fighting about which one of them created the game, Sampo and Sparkle go straight to playing poker a fool's hand upon coming into conflict with each other. Which implies that either all of the masked fool's use this game to solve conflicts between them, or Sampo and Sparkle specifically use it to solve stuff between each other. The first option is more likely, but the second option is funnier.

-upon losing another hand against Vita, Sparkle steals one of Sampo's smoke bombs and escapes, with an admittedly cool looking cg of her in her new hi3 skin.

-Sparkle implies that she's going to come back and try to convince Vita again at some point.

-somehow, the story ends with Sampo talking to the chibi, saying that the other 4th wall breaking character told him to play hi3. He then whines about not knowing where to start because of how much content there is, and the chibi gets mad at him and tells him to just start with ch 1. I don't know why Hoyo thought that making fun of non-hi3 players who feel intimidated by how big (and unorganized, and confusing) hi3's story is was a good idea.

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

Hey everyone, dunno how long this might be, kind of doing a stream of consciousness style ramble about TNTF and me and stuff :)

alright so, tntf is getting a huge rework, this is my first if game ever, the coding is a little overwhelming, i know it’s fairly simple but it’s A LOT.

the reason i’ve been pretty quiet is mostly due to burnout, as some of you know i have health issues, i have crohns disease, i’m also autistic with adhd—something i love about this community is the understanding and acceptance for people/authors like me who may want to write but are just too stuck to be able to do it.

i know everyone is so jazzed for the next update, and i am too, there’s a few changes i’m making in regards to the technical aspects of the story, i’m removing stats, for the MC and for relationships. part of it is… i’m not a numbers person, trying to balance out the stats going up and down is a pain when this is planned to be a pretty damn long story. i also just don’t like it for my story personally, i don’t want you, as the player to feel like you have to game-ify personality or relationships.

this also opens the option for me to write more player responses to situations without having all of that annoying code in my brain~ MORE FLAVOR!

My writing has also vastly improved when it comes to fiction, a lot because i have been practicing so much while i’ve been sick (i’ve been playing with and writing AI chatbots on Janitor.AI, learning how to create a complex and realistic personality, an engaging character and world.) It’s been useful as a stress reliever and as a tool to help me write better, more descriptive etc.

on that note, smut in my game is also a very yes, i feel much more comfortable writing it now… heh.

i’ve also decided that all of my books are going to remain free, tntf was a planned three book series, it may just be one or two HUGE books, we’re going to have to see what i, and twine are capable of. but the story is going to span four countries and two continents of the world, so yeah.

the new rewrite is also going to slow things down considerably, because now we’ll have MC on a ship for four months as the intro, then meeting maddock and spending <insert amount of time here> with him while traveling to that little inn. it also gives me more room to introduce the characters a lot earlier but in their own POVs and not just while they’re with MC. i want the world to feel alive.

my decision to make and keep tntf free is because i want to.

i would not appreciate minors interacting with my content, but i also grew up with the internet, i know that no matter how much prevention we put in, minors are going to access our content regardless if it’s free or not. i just ask that if you are a minor and reading adult fiction, please don’t comment, dm or whatever, this is for your safety in the community as well as, i don’t want to deal with other people’s children on the internet, it’s nothing against any of ya’ll, you’re awesome, children are great but i’m almost 26, i really don’t want to deal with kids in what’s pretty much an adult space (i haven’t really seen books catered to the younger than 18 crowd, but like i’m saying, i’m more interested in forging connections with the adult community here, considering i am one, lmao *bats children away with pool noodles*)

i think that’s it

i might post more stuff but that’s my general direction

also to the asks in my inbox from last year on my birthday and forward… I READ THEM ALL AND APPRECIATE EVERY WELL WISH AND FEEDBACK, GENUINELY. i’m just bad at social media.

[theresattrpgforthat]

i want to go treasure hunting with maps n traps. any recs?

THEME: Maps, Traps & Treasure.

Hello friend, you seem to be in the market for a dungeon game. I have good news for you: there are many dungeon games!

For most OSR games, the book might come with some rules on how to make your own dungeon, rather than coming with pre-written maps. If you don’t want to create your own dungeon, there are oodles of pre-written dungeons that should be pretty easily convertible for whatever OSR game you choose to play. I’ll list a few below!

Dungeoneering, by Grinning Rat.

DUNGEONEERING is a quick-and-dirty tabletop role-playing game where players explore dungeons, gather treasure, and fight monsters. Game Masters are encouraged to use the sample dungeon within, or generate their own with the creation tools, to facilitate these dangerous delves.

Dungeoneering feels like a quick one-shot type experience about gathering as much loot as you can inside a dungeon run. The amount of treasure you gather is also a measure of how well you did - a “score”, if you will. The game states that it is best built for exactly 4 players, each with a different character class and skill-set. For the dungeon master, the game has instructions on how to build a dungeon, complete with roll-tables for dungeon types and layout. You’ll probably do well enough with a grid map and some markers, although the creators of the game have a few supplements available: Catalysts, which expands character options and Wanderers which not only provide two new roles, but also gives you more dungeon options and loot.

Errant, by Kill Jester.

You have no home. You have no job. You have no friends. You have no family. You have no prospects.

What you do have are a handful of pennies, a blithe disregard for your own life, and a particular set of skills. The kind of skills that make respectable folks avoid you. 

Out there, beyond civilization, lies danger: monsters and magic and  ancient ruins pregnant with treasure. Death is likely, but what did you  have to live for anyway? At least out there is the chance to make  something of yourself, and maybe even get back at those who wronged you. This is no life for decent folk, but you’re not decent folk. You are an Errant.

What is Errant? Errant is a classic fantasy role-playing game in the vein of the first few editions of that role-playing game and its many imitators and descendants such as Knave, Into the Odd, and The Black Hack. It is freely compatible with material for all those games as well as the newest edition of that role-playing game, with conversion guides provided within.

With over 200 pages of rules, Errant provides detailed instructions for all kinds of things that could happen in play: travel, magic retainers, exploration, combat, and more. The players will create a map as they play, filling it in according to what they understand - and importantly, not necessarily accurately. The GM’s map may have many more secrets or truths that the characters will likely have to work to discover.

Errant happens over the course of different kinds of turns, which have a different procedure depending on what is happening in the game. There is a process for Exploration, for Combat, and for Downtime, which might provide you with the structure to move from one part of the story to the next… but it also might be a bit slower than the kind of game you’re looking for.

If you want content for Errant, it’s certainly out there! Kill Jester has an adventure called Tomb Robbers of the Crystal Frontier, as well as a module called The Curse of the Ganshogger, to get you started.

Crowns, by Ward Against Evil.

Humanity hides in sheltered villages. Monsters prowl the wilderness.  You are the few foolish enough to leave safety. Find your fortunes in the dungeon. And try not to die.

Crowns is a simple enough dungeon system with advancement tied to the amount of gold you acquire - so I think it meets the treasure requirement for sure! There are very specific rules for line of sight, doors, lighting, and creating your own openings in the cracks and nooks of the dungeon, which can help make the dungeon feel alive and exciting - although definitely not safe.

As is typical in the OSR style, you won’t find a fully fleshed out dungeon in the rules, although you will find rules on how to make your own. If you want some extra bits to play with, Crowns does have some interesting supplements, such as Season of Crows, a war-based expansion event, and Armies of Man, a bestiary that looks like it works rather well with Season of Crows.

Crawlr: Basic, by BLK Feather Press.

From the Black Sludge seeping from the lip of the Primordial Cauldron crawls the descendants of dead men. YOU are born from that sludge, and when you die, you shall return to the sludge.

CRAWLR is a table-top role-playing game where you and your friends take on the role of adventurers, cutthroats, profiteers, and even heroes all in the collective imagination of your minds. All you need is pen, paper, and 2d6.

Crawlr: Basic is rather lightweight, but it has rules for changing the dungeon as you go, and a neat little mechanic for timing how long a torch lasts, which might heighten the danger of the dungeon. It also has a table for creatures’ reactions upon stumbling upon you, and a d66 table for useful items that you might pick up. When it comes to traps, I think you might have to get ideas from other modules, but the creator looks like they might be releasing an “Advanced” version in the future.

You can also get blank monster cards and character sheets for free!

.dungeon remastered, by snow.

Welcome to the ruins of Annwn. The once populated hills of this massively multiplayer online game are now void. They call it a Dead MMO. A polygonal mess of PS1-era graphics, empty plains, and dungeons that grow and grow and grow from the inside of the planet's wounds. Up above, the eye of the sad god glares its chromatic light down upon the remaining players, while its tormented hand contorts into magical shapes, rarely crossing paths in their messy orbit. When they do, the shadow magic that powers the game explodes with its ancient might.

In .dungeon, you play through character creation as if it was a game of its own, with each step formatted like the room of a dungeon. You generate the world using dice rolls, while the game itself is played using a hex map. You can run an adventure like a hex crawl, which generates interesting encounters and scenery every time your characters move to a new hex. You can use elements from the book to generate a hex crawl, but it looks like there’s also a “tutorial” level that your characters will encounter directly after character creation.

.dungeon is also fantasy-ish: it takes place in a video game, so your adventurers are likely to run into a few places or things that have something a bit more sci-fi in nature. I think that overall, the layout of this book makes the game easier for the group to learn how to all play at the same time, which might be good for a GM who wants to spread the responsibility of game knowledge a bit more evenly. I’m not entirely sure how a hex-crawl would map onto a dungeon, but I think that a lot of the vibes carry across.

Slash Hex, by Danielaurence

Slash Hex is an adventure role-playing game in which players will use their creativity and imaginations to explore a wild and dangerous world, hunting for treasure, defeating monsters, and engaging in other mostly heroic exploits.

This game is heavily inspired by giants that have come before, most notably in name by the /X side of the original B/X books, but also Basic Fantasy, Knave, White Box, and The Black Hack.

While it is inspired by the aforementioned games, Slash Hex has morphed into something that has a footprint of its own, while still remaining largely compatible with classic modules.

What I think Slash/Hex has going for it is the list of fantasy monsters - typical monsters, but there’s a lot of them - as well as the well-detailed list of magic items that you can pick up and use while exploring a dungeon. Most of the focus of this game is on character abilities, so if you want a more unique character, you might like this game. The downside is that the game as it is has little to no advice on how to create a dungeon; I’m thinking that perhaps the creator is relying on you to find other established dungeon modules and use their rules to run through those.

Dungeon Crawl Classics, by Goodman Games.

You’re no hero. You’re an adventurer: a reaver, a cutpurse, a heathen-slayer, a tight-lipped warlock guarding long-dead secrets. You seek gold and glory, winning it with sword and spell, caked in the blood and filth of the weak, the dark, the demons, and the vanquished. There are treasures to be won deep underneath, and you shall have them. 

Return to the glory days of fantasy with the Dungeon Crawl Classics Role-Playing Game. Adventure as 1974 intended, with modern rules grounded in the origins of sword & sorcery. Fast play, cryptic secrets, and a mysterious past await you: turn the page…

DCC RPG is a fast-paced, open-feeling rules set allowing for epic game experiences without unnecessary tethers. It uses modern game-play while paying homage to the origins of role-playing and the fun that it inspired.

Dungeon Crawl Classics is one of the largest, most popular OSR titles, with more than just fantasy up its sleeve. You can find the same rule-set in its sister products, such as Mutant Crawl Classics (post-apocalyptic), or X Crawl Classics (dystopian fantasy). There’s also oodles of content built for this rule-set, which will give you a story or adventure ready to run right out of the box. This is traditional dungeon-crawling, complete with treasure as a reward, and plenty of puzzles and traps to work through.

You can get the free Quickstart rules here, and I’ve heard that the fanbase and creative community is also very supportive!

Some dungeon modules to consider include:

White Scales, by 1pagedungeons, which introduces a low-level dragon.

The Valley of Flowers, by Phantom Mill, which was Ennie-nominated this year!

Trouble in the Gladden Brook Reservoir, by AoSmiles, a short tri-fold adventure about a body of water that refines crude magic.

Candleberry Jam by GLASS/CUTTER, a murder mystery on a sleepy island!

Other Notes….

You might also like Cairn, by Yochai Gal, which has a 1st and a 2nd edition, both of which are free. There are many many supplements for this game, and it often matches well with Into the Odd adventures as well.

I’ve also talked about Sojourn in the past, as a dungeon-crawling game with some solid high-ranking reviews.

You can also give me a tip by donating to my Ko-fi!

[nokillbananashelter]

A HUGE portion of the criticisms for BOTW and TOTK boil down to “there isnt (xyz) in this game like other games!” And the answer to it is almost always “yes there is, you are just ignoring it or actively avoiding it or willfully engaging in it in a way that is breaking it and then getting mad that it broke”

Like, if you want a tight 50 hour 3d zelda with a full ACTIVE PRESENT story and linear story/mechanical progression & big dungeons….just listen to what the game is telling you to do and inviting you to see when you see it and you will literally get a classic linear 3d zelda experience complete with “yes, we did infact have ONE PARTICULAR solution in mind for this puzzle!”, deep lore implications, extremely melodic and complex orchestral music, progression, & a zany cast of characters.

Both of these games are so much more than that though, and contains so much more content that people don’t see that meat and potatoes run because of their own choices and desire to break the game wins out over wanting to meet the game where its at. And to be fair, that is a major component to what these games are daring you to do. And you should engage with those, but if you really did want the classic experience, it should be obvious you should treat it like the OOT era games and it will LITERALLY provide that for you in neon blinking lights and guardrails.

I really do feel like these two games are sort of an exercise in discipline /listening /spotting subtly /recognizing things in their new shape as much as they are an invitation to explore experiment and fuck off, and people are mad that the option to break from the path exists at all because they dont have the control or desire or sight to focus in on whats being asked of them and they don’t want to accept the shape of what the game is working with.

I’m not saying these people are playing the game wrong, but the attitude and closed mindedness is the problem. it’s almost always the source of these kinds criticisms that want to present these games as empty repetitive experiences, when these two games give the entire franchise a run for its money on uniqueness and novelty and story depth and profoundness.

You went in for a bad time, didnt want to play, and got exactly what you worked for- a lame, monotonous level skip that jumps ahead of itself, disrespects the intention of the developers, and misses the point of very obviously and enticingly marked gametunnels they made for you.

Like, seriously here, both but totk especially is quite literally an on-rails CINEMATIC GAMEPLAY experience if you want it to be, it literally has a path that is like 99% laid out in such a way that you are directly on mine cart rails and jumping up and down on direct vertical pathways. The regions-to-temple pathways are about as much of a bee-line as you can get. The skylands & cave systems are effectively old oot era compartmentalized zones. Same with shrines. There are so many ways they have created pathways and say “GO THIS WAY” that if you ignore those and get lost its kinda on you for not being observant….. which has always been one of the top asks of the player required to beat a Zelda game.

The biggest difference between these two games and other 3-D Zelda’s is that it just has taken the roof and some walls off the design. It Lets you experience more in context to your journey at any given time and that gives you a lot of freedom and agency to break from the path or stay on your goals, and both enrich your experience and inform what links journey is going to be and how narratively/mechanically/progression cohesive it will be.

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

Hihi !! Before i request I just love your writing so much and I couldn’t resist to request this!!

Could I request a teen! Reader (angel) who’s sees crowley & aziraphale as their parental figures who is trying to make something nice for them?

The reader is super silly and innocent so like the stuff they make look like something else 💀

Handmade

Ineffable Husbands x teen!angel!reader

Summary: Y/n wants to do something special for their favorite angel/demon duo. So, they try their ethereal hand at the human art of crafting.

Content: y/n uses they/them pronouns, improper use of miracles,

Note: Anon, you're such an absolute sweetheart. I appreciate you so much. Unfortunately, I didn't realize what you meant by 'something else' until after but hopefully you still enjoy the fic.

Rating: 14+ || 500+ w.

Gifts were important. Gifts were a way of expressing profound love for an individual, at least that is what Aziraphale had taught you. Gifts meant a lot; they were a language all their own. Gifts meant I love you.

Gifts were hard.

You stared at the heaping pile of crafting utensils Maggie from the record shop had leant you. There were a lot of options and she had even been kind enough to make you a list of ideas, the only problem was that none of it seemed quite right for Aziraphale and Crowley.

You stared at the felt and the streamers and silently willed yourself to come up with an idea, but nothing happened. Sighing, you sat back with your shoulders pressing against the side of Aziraphale's desk. It was lucky that they were out, the sight of you sitting on the floor surrounded by confetti might raise an alarm. Or perhaps not, you were prone to floor sitting.

You tossed your head back against the leg of the table and the telephone jingled with the bang. Perhaps you should call her and ask for her help, but no, this was your idea, and it would make it even more special if you did it yourself. There had to be something you could make.

Your eyes drifted to a stray bottle of silver glitter and stayed there, staring with such mindless intensity it was a miracle the tension didn't cause the bottle to bust. Miracles. You could use a little miracle of your own right about now.

"Wait," you sat up too quickly, dizzying yourself, and snatched up the little plastic bottle of glitter. "If it's only a small miracle, and one for good, then I can't possibly get in trouble for it. And it's still like I'm making it myself, because I am." A smile stretched wide across your face, and you turned to the plant in the corner, "This is going to be perfect."

Hours later, when Crowley and Aziraphale arrived back at the bookshop, there was a notable difference to the building. That being because the entire inside of the bookshop had turned into a Victorian style ballroom. "Right, well...what's all this?" You beamed at the demon from where you stood in the center of the large room. "Suprise! It's a gift!"

Aziraphale's face went from something sad - which you had luckily missed - to something proud and beaming. "A gift, yes! And, oh, how wonderful!" Crowley didn't look quite as convinced. However, he perked up quite notably when the record player you had been fiddling with started to play Queen's Somebody to Love. You offered a hand to both fellow angel and the demon in front of you, "Care to dance?"

"Why certainly!" Aziraphale answered for the both of them, whatever complaint Crowley had been about to give died in his throat as he was yanked along. As you danced, you made a mental note to thank Maggie for the record next time you saw her. Perhaps you might even thank her with a gift.

|| masterlist || navigation ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Ineffable Husbands/Good Omens copyrighted by Neil Gaiman©

[thegreatyin]

Your posts about Fallen London are slowly tempting me into playing it- do you have any tips to start or is it best to play it completely blind?

i have a few tips and tricks! mind you im far from a veteran and i basically got my hand held by tumblr for most of the game so take everything with a grain of salt. you can and should do whatever you want always. i don't personally play it blind, but you may get more enjoyment out of it if you do, and that's awesome and im super happy for you. this is what i can say from experience:

take your time with it. this is like. the numero uno fallen london tip. it's not a game where you rush to the end in a week. it's a game where you do 10-minute-intervals of a marathon to the end in maybe a few months if you know what you're doing. spending money on action refills usually isn't worth it when you can just mosey on through neathly life one storylet at a time. a vast majority of the game's content is completely free to everyone, and while the monthly subscription options are pretty neat and let you play some exclusive story stuff (that can be pretty fire- cricket anyone basically defined the scoundrel's entire character) none of it is required and 99% of the time you aren't missing out on anything by just taking your time and exploring the neath at your own pace.

you need to raise all of your skills eventually! this is, uh. something im horribly guilty of not following myself. you can (and probably should) pick at least two stats to focus on for your character (most of the time these will be your main ambition stats, aka the closest thing FL has to a main story questline) but eventually you Will be expected to have them all at around the 100 range, minimum. for certain Super Late-game Story Content, watchful 200 is mandatory to start it, so if you have trouble choosing i'd recommend leveling that bad boy first. don't neglect your other stats though!!! don't be like me. don't be like my poor poor neglected shadowy and dangerous. it's too late for me. save yourself.

friends are fun and free and you are legally mandated to exploit them for fun and profit. okay you really aren't mandated to exploit your FL friends list but you totally should anyway just for goofy sillies. to be less jokey about it, while fallen london is primarily a single-player gaming experience, the playerbase is super friendly and super open to helping each other out (especially new players!). go on reddit, ask around on tumblr, get yourself a few buddies and use them as resources to gain items and stats and menace reduction i mean. valued companions that im sure you will treasure forever and definitely not backstab to publish that inflammatory newspaper article you've been cooking up.

on a very loosely similar note, the fallen london wiki is your best friend. yes, we're following stardew rules with this one. this is the kind of game best optimally played with a wiki article or three open in the neighboring tabs so you can follow along and know what is what. there's tons of guides on basically every part of FL, and it's no shame at all to reach out to either it or the wider community if you get stuck or feel lost at something.

if an in-game storylet has bold text, it will never lie to you! except for when it does. but that's very very very rare. you can always trust the bold text. it is always your friend. i prommy. which brings us neatly into our next bulletpoint,

seeking the name is ill-advised because it's the only storyline that can permanently brick your account at its conclusion. don't worry, the ease at which you can avoid this is practically comical, and the game will Always give you multiple chances to opt-out if you somehow accidentally start it anyway. most people make a dedicated alt character entirely for the purpose of sacrificing them to the well of doom. unless you're playing with your eyes closed for multiple months straight, you'll never run into SMEN without deliberately chasing it, and if you somehow get to that point honestly man just ignore this entire bulletpoint and see how far the rabbithole goes. go on. it's friendly :)

batfucking is always the right answer to any problem ever

echoes/the game's standard currency should always be thought of as a method of gaining items rather than a strict hoard of video game dollars. money-making can be super difficult in the earlygame, but it gets exponentially easier as you go further on. you shouldn't be afraid to sell anything you don't need, though personally i'd recommend keeping an "insurance stock" of the most basic items just in case. this includes rostygold, moon-pearls, honey droplets, etc. by-and-large, these are the easiest items to get in a pinch, and it usually isn't worth buying them from the bazaar when you can otherwise get them naturally through other methods around london. once you've got a good lodgings setup and feel decently familiar with the earlygame zones and their options, you should aim to have at minimum 1,000 of these bad boys on hand at any given time, then feel free to sell any excess you make for some quick cash in a pinch.

menaces aren't as bad as you may think, but be wary of specifically suspicion! the four main menace qualities you'll encounter in the earlygame are nightmares, wounds, scandal, and suspicion. when one of these menace stacks reach 8, you'll automatically be trapped in a unique location corresponding to whatever menace you raised too high and will have to spend time working your way out. some (nightmares and wounds) tend to fly-by rather quickly, while others (scandal and suspicion) tend to take a bit longer to get out of. none of these mean the end of your playthrough or your character, and some quests even require you to visit certain menace-exclusive locations! there are tons of items and ways to reduce menaces and keep yourself out of Situations such as these, but suspicion in particular is probably the only menace you should avoid maxing At All Costs. when your suspicion gets too high and you get sent to its special menace zone too often, you build up a criminal record that makes it harder to reduce suspicion in the future. fortunately, suspicion is the only menace with this gimmick, and before this record gets too high it's just as easy to keep row as the rest of the lot. TLDR, death from wounds is easy to escape from, but avoiding the strongarm of the law is substantially more annoying and inconvenient.

or you could be like tumblr user @with-bells-upon, who's apparently avoided death at all costs and apparently hasn't died once in the entire several months they've been playing. i don't even know how they've gotten this far without doing that. it's kind of impressive, kind of funny. especially since their ambition is one the few requiring you to die to proceed. this isn't a piece of advice i just wanted to affectionately call them out because what the heck

speaking of ambitions, pick the ambition that's right for you! ambitions are the biggest overarching questline in the game, and their requirements and rewards span the entire neath and occasionally even beyond. all four ambitions are meant to be started early and last well into the mid and late game. outside of a certain special situation regarding the light fingers ambition (the only ambition that explicitly lies to you in-game when describing its premise) you can't change your ambition without spending money, so choose carefully and choose well. they're all (mostly) equally rewarding and equally fulfilling adventures that will define your player character and your journey through the neath. there's tons of advice and spoiler-free summaries of each ambition online, so i won't cover it all here. just do your research (or don't, if you prefer) and follow your heart. maybe playing the world's most high-stake poker game ever speaks to you. maybe you want to commit a murder. maybe you want to commit a murder in the name of justice and/or revenge. maybe you just want a really really big really really shiny rock. all can be found in the neath, and all shall (eventually) be well.

if you buy 400 lucky weasels you get a special achievement. i don't need to say more.

make up a guy. this is another legal mandate if you're a fallen london player. you have to make up your own little sicko victorian london guy and roleplay them while you play. trust me. it's fun. it's free. they're going to haunt you forever. the scoundrel got a nickname like 4 months ago and ever since my mind has never known peace.

and probably most important of all, fallen london might not be the game for you, and that's okay. it includes a lot of reading. and grinding. and i do mean a lot of reading and grinding. particularly the latter, which tends to throw people off the most out of anything. it's a very niche game for a very niche audience and getting into it can be an acquired taste at the best of times. but when you do get into it, it's some Really good writing and Really in-depth worldbuilding and the most fun you'll ever have imagining sicko victorian guys running around building train stations and railway tracks directly to hell. take your time, have fun, and most important of all, always look to love.

anyway yeah that's my fallen london tips and tricks list isn't it really short and comprehendible

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims Shares Details About Collab with SixamCC

You Make The Sims Featuring SixamCC

The Sims community is a place of big ideas, storytellers, content-makers, and creators of all kinds. Our players inspire us to keep looking for new ways to tell universal stories, and to continue to invite collaboration and creativity from all kinds of Simmers to help shape the game we all love. For this edition of You Make the Sims we’re sitting down with SixamCC to take a look at what inspired the Storybook Nursery Kit and how he and The Sims team brought it to life!

SixamCC (also known as Alex) is well-known in The Sims community as a custom content creator and 3D Digital artist. A lover of both video games and Japanese fluffy pancakes–a winning combination, tbh–SixamCC works in the creative field and spends his free time creating CC for the community he loves..

Like many players, SixamCC was introduced to the game by a family member, and knew from that first playthrough it was going to be one of his favorite games.

THE SIMS TEAM: Tell us about how you were first introduced to The Sims and what inspired you to start making custom content.

SIXAMCC: My cousin was a big fan of The Sims at the time, and she told me about The Sims 2 and how fun it was. She told me all about the endless possibilities and opportunities to tell every imaginable story with the game, which sounded fascinating to me. One day, she brought the Deluxe CD to my house and got me to install it. Ever since then, I knew it was one of my favorite games.

I’ve always wanted to make my own custom content for my Sims, but I never had the time to get into it. During the 2020 lockdown, I finally decided to try it out, and I found the process so fascinating and fun.

THE SIMS TEAM: Kit collaborations are some of our favorite things to work on, because of amazing creators like you who pitch a concept to The Sims team. As a creator, how do you approach creating a new concept from scratch?

SIXAMCC: I always ask myself what kind of stories I want to tell with the concepts I design. I like to go beyond just decorating a room. I think the game allows you to create your own stories without needing specific new gameplay, which is why I aim for my ideas to have something unique and interesting to explore.

THE SIMS TEAM: How did the idea of ‘legacy’ play into what you wanted to create?

SIXAMCC: I truly believe our most iconic Sims characters have set the perfect example of legacy; Bella and Mortimer have shared a story that has stood the test of time and distance, we’ve seen them in different life stages throughout the games. This is what inspired me to create this Kit—a space, or in this case a nursery room, where every legacy story can take place.

THE SIMS TEAM: What kinds of stories do you hope to see Simmers tell with this pack?

SIXAMCC: I want players to have the chance to expand their legacy storytelling in any way they dream of. I've seen some truly amazing family trees from players who’ve spent years crafting the perfect legacy family, and I think that’s just fantastic. This kit is perfect for kicking off a new generation and keeping it going strong.

For those who’ve never tried it before, I invite you to start with this kit . I know it can be tough to say goodbye to our favorite Sims, but sometimes that’s part of the fun of creating new stories. (And hey, you can always bring them back to life!)

THE SIMS TEAM: You've created so many wonderful items for children and infants in the past; what interests you the most about designing and making objects for younger Sims?

SIXAMCC: Making content for younger Sims is just fun. You can experiment with different silhouettes and bright colors, and still provide swatches and options for more serious players. I feel like my creativity flows more freely when I work on content for kids. I also love to hear from my community and they’ve been pretty clear about loving children's items.

THE SIMS TEAM: This kit has a real air of elegance to it; is there a particular object you knew you had to include to make this feel like an elevated nursery?

SIXAMCC: Oh what a difficult question, the truth is that each of the elements that make up this kit are perfect and I can't imagine any of them being left out. But if I had to choose I think it would be the canopy, I'm sure the players will use it to give that extra bit of elegance to their little ones rooms.

The canopy taking center stage in this pink and white colorway of the Storybook Nursery kit.

THE SIMS TEAM: Do you have a favorite detail or easter egg you’d be willing to share?

SIXAMCC: I love all the easter eggs in this Kit, I would like to mention them all! I won’t spoil them! but I think one of my favorites without a doubt is the hanging mobile where, if you zoom in close enough, we can actually see Bella in the hot air balloon. It certainly brings back a lot of nostalgic feelings from The Sims 2.

THE SIMS TEAM: You’ve collaborated with other Sims community members in the past; are there any creators you’d really love to work with some day?

SIXAMCC: I could start listing all the people that come to mind, and we’d probably run out of time for the interview, haha. There are so many talented Simmers I admire, both as individuals and as content creators, modders, and other CC creators. I’d absolutely love to work with all of them, but the truth is, I’m super shy and I always hesitate when I think of asking. (Some people are going to laugh when they read this, but I promise it’s true!)

For now I can say that I would love to collaborate with Juno Birch and Trixie Mattel; I love their style and I think something extremely cool and unique would come out of it.

THE SIMS TEAM: For anyone who’d like to start creating their own digital art, is there any advice you’d give them?

SIXAMCC: (Looks at the camera) You, yes, you, don’t overthink it, just do it.

Honestly, it can seem scary, but the most important thing is to just dive in and give it a shot. There are so many places out there now where you can get help and learn whatever you need. And as they say, practice makes perfect, right? It doesn’t have to be perfect on the first try.

THE SIMS TEAM: You answers have been so great, so let’s end on a truly tricky question:

You can only pick ONE!

SIXAMCC: This is a tough one because Jenni, from The Sims team, made me love the possum that we made for this kit, but I think I'll probably choose a sloth one because it's my absolute favorite animal.

The council of the eight plushies awaits your decision: If you can only choose one, who are you choosing?

Thank you to SixamCC for his time, thoughtful answers, and for all the work he did to bring the beautiful Storybook Nursery Kit to life with The Sims 4 team! Choose your very own favorite stuffed animal friend and level up your legacy with this kit when it releases later this month.

The Sims 4 Storybook Nursery Kit will be available for purchase beginning September 19 in The Sims 4 on PC and Mac® via EA app, Epic Games Store, Steam®, PlayStation®5, PlayStation®4, Xbox Series X|S and Xbox One systems.

[warsofasoiaf]

Overall thoughts about the Elden Ring DLC?

Overall, I consider it to be an incredibly high-quality production. It pushes the envelope when it comes to boss design, had gobsmacking lore revelations, and overall was a worthwhile addition to the series.

FromSoft's boss design remains in excellent form. The early bosses (Divine Beast, Dancing Lion and Twin Moon Knight Rellana) look designed to punish you by using multiple elements in their attacks, the early optional bosses (Blackgaol Knight, the giant Furnace Golem in the distance) look to hit hard and break you out of your comfort zone. You cannot sleep on these bosses, even if you're on a NG-multiple+ with a tricked-out build. These bosses are hard, they're fast, and they will eat you for breakfast if you don't treat them seriously. Some of the design appears to be specifically designed to counter early player actions, like summoning the Mimic Tear as soon as you step into the fog gate - the boss might charge you and hit you hard specifically to break you of your had habits. They may tag on an extra hit after a combo looks over to punish flask use. This is precisely what DLC and additional content for games is for, breaking the stale combat doctrine of the existing game in new and exciting ways, to punish uncreative players and force a change in strategy.

It's for that reason that the hoopla about the boss's extra difficulty falls flat with me. Yes, these bosses are challenging, but there are ways around it. Scadutree Fragments are the big ones - it's a progression mechanic meant specifically to make your game easier and reward exploration. With many players already possessing plenty of endgame-caliber weapons and spells, Shadow of the Erdtree needed to create other incentives to reward players for looking carefully. There are still great weapons and spells to be found, certainly, but the punishing difficulty, and the utility of the Scadutree Fragments with which to mitigate it, encourages exploration. People not using them and complaining about the difficulty is the whole Spirit Ashes summoning argument all over again. If you don't want to use the tools that you have in front of you, fine, but you're going to have a harder time of it. Don't leave have your equipment behind and complain that the task is too hard.

Of course, a lore nerd like me is positively giddy with the revelations that the DLC has provided us. Marika's past and ascension into godhood, and why she was so cruel to the Omens and the previous Crucible era. One possible source for the corruption of the Golden Order via the Two Fingers by Metyr, Mother of Fingers. The surprisingly grandiose master plan of Miquella the Kind. The return of a fan-favorite character. Revelations for everyone from Melina to the tiny dopey jar-people. FromSoft didn't disappoint, and I'd go so far as to say they were, by FromSoft standards, quite coherent on the story. I'm always prepped and ready for essays on the subject.

Thanks for the question, Mistland.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[project-lumen]

So our beloved mc, Watcher Child, can interact with the environment in various ways, thereby leading to different outcomes in the games, if I'm reading the explanations right (hopefully).

I've had many ideas about this since I heard about it, and I wanted to ask, how much can WC interact?

Can we prevent Scar from getting blown up by a creeper, either by driving it away or maybe just smiting it (I don't think we'll be able to do that, but it's a funny idea nonetheless)? Can we stop Jimmy from springing Grian's trapped enchantment table? Can we successfully bring about Red Spring (please please please that'd be so cool, Martyn initially planning to betray Ren was such a cool idea that no one utilizes it'd be so interesting trust me-) through a tiny change in the story or Scar dieing earlier than he was supposed to? Can we protect our beloved Canary? Can we prevent Pearl from her isolation and insanity by postponing her trip to the Nether? Can we have Rancher content (please they're such a fun duo)? Can we prevent (or keep) the DNA abomination that is Martren (I love him he's so underappreciated)? Will Joel actually be able to drive his *stupid fricking car* (it would be really funny, if nonsensical)? How good can we make everything? How much worse can we make it?

The opportunities are there and I am very very happy about it (I really hope we get to see everybody else in the different seasons at least a little bit because I feel like we're not going to get a whole lot of the incredibly stupid drama from certain perspectives (ex: Grian cheating on Scar /w BigB, which to my knowledge, Pearl doesn't really find out about (?)). It's fine if that does happen, it's just like, " Man these guys are being idiots. I really want this memorized forever so I can put it on my wall and look at these forever ".

thank you guys so much for making this, as I'm currently walking back to my house and it's cold and there is snow :-(

bye, drink water :-)

Hi-hey-hello, Arto and Kori here, and thanks for the question!!!

So the Watcher Child will be able to interact an average amount, but also not as much, since they are still just an apprentice. During the actual Life Series games, you will be playing as the winner---aka, whoever the Watcher Child is watching. Hopefully I'll be posting a little blurb of all sorts of notes for the game to hopefully give a little more context!

For example, in Third Life, at the beginning of the game, the Watcher Child is kind of just 'only meant to watch'. This is because our WC is still curious and doesn't really know what will happen---because at the start they were excited about the game and wanted to make it as chaotic as possible. But, upon following Grian for a while and looking at how the game works, they come to a realization "these games aren't happy and fun like I thought they were...".

Fast forward to when Grian was setting up the enchanter trap. At this rate, Watcher Child had not only made their presence known but also started to disapprove of the games. So, while on screen you see Grian setting the trap up, the game will highlight the enchanter in the trap in a bright purple color, indicating you to click it. The idea is that the enchanter trap was meant to work, but WC messed with it so nobody else would die. Of course that is the "good route" to put it in some way, you can also choose to ignore it and let it kill more players. Things like these are how we're going to have Watcher Child interact during the Life Series :D But while they're in the Watcher Realm, you play as WC.

I totally get your concerns lol, but don't worry! While you're doing a (most likely side) quest of some sort that requires you to go somewhere, the map will be free roam. You can always go around the map and talk to other characters a little and see what they're up to! and there might be easter eggs youll never know

We totally want for the player to have different options, like being able to prevent Scar's creeper death in Third Life or the (very lovable) abomination that is Martren, but the issue is that one small change in plot can change the ENTIRE outcome of the season, getting us trapped in loopholes and paradoxes galore. Would Grian have won Third Life if he hadn't teamed with Scar? No desert duo? Who would he team with then? So we've talked and decided that yes, as per Watcher influence, you can change the stories of the characters but the final outcome will always be the same, everyone dies and the Winner stands until the end, it was always meant to be that way, that is The Will of the Watchers. For example, in Double Life, maybe Watcher Child causes Scar to realize that he's literally being cheated on and he goes to join the Broken Hearts Club! (thats the name right?) (Oh boy am i mentioning scar a lot. I wonder who my favorite hermit/lifer is. oh golly gee i wonder wh)

But having an easter egg of joel breaking through stuff with his car is beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Running Scott Smajor over with a Dodge Charger 1970 Simulator innit-) (LOL)

Sorry, Arto yapped a LOT lol, (And Kori cut it down and edited it everyone say thank you Kori - Arto) I really hope this answers your question! Let us know if you still have queries or are confused :D

- Arto and Kori

PS: Also! Snow! That's cool! I love snow! I wish I could see snow. Probably a bit late but good luck on your way back home, anon! Take care too! And thank youuuuuu for question, really appreciate it!

[talenlee]

3e: The Halflings of Races of the Wild

There has always been a relentless need for the business of Dungeons & Dragons to publish, to publish, to keep publishing. It is a hungry beast, an endless maw that wants new things, new ideas, new constant iteration and it turns these words into products that you can buy, from season to season, edition to edition. This is a nihilistic and eerie way to be as a game but also, counterpoint to that, it is a wealthy buffet of new books to get to look at and enjoy. Basically, wow, this is a bad way to do things but also the results are kinda fun.

Relentless growth, capitalism bad, you know all this, but this isn’t about the ridiculous way that Dungeons & Dragons gets made. Well, not really, it kind of is but it’s actually about the way that 3rd edition’s love of structured sets of book hash-tag-content filling led to the strange attempt to rebrand Halflings midway through the life of 3.5th edition as one of the Races of the Wild.

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

An addendum to that block I use above: This is a book called Races of and it’s part of a series of books called Races of. I’m not about to pretend that’s not its name or the name of the related books from that grouping. I just don’t like using the word for the mechanical package.

As for where Races of the Wild came from, well, it’s a bit of a story and it’s a story we can only look at in hindsight. All of what you’re going to read here is extrapolation from the books that were released, but it is a story that makes a lot of sense when you understand the mechanical systems underneath. It’s entirely possible that this story is just wrong, though, and instead every thing put in these books is the result of someone with a sincere want that this let them express, and they just also were, uh, incoherent and bad at this. The story starts with the release of 3rd edition. It’s out, and it’s time to monetise that audience, meaning we get splatbooks (expansion material) around themes in Dungeons & Dragons. The first ones were based around the things classes did, broad categories of like, sword-doer, god-botherer, actually-powerful and miscellaneous. I’ve written about the Complete Books and their problems, it’s a good article, you should check it out, it’s funny!

Another set we got were the Races of group. There was Races of Eberron, which is its own thing, it can sit over there and just a way to address the four core heritages that set Eberron apart (Warforged, Changelings, Shifters, and the Kalashtar). Then there are three books meant to accommodate the Player’s Handbook heritages, which were, at launch:

Humans, the 0,0 of all race graphs in D&D

Dwarves, like in Lord of the Rings

Elves, like in Lord of the Rings

Gnomes, the annoying humans

Half-Elves, the worst worse humans

Half-Orcs, the better worse humans, and

Halflings, the some of a humans

This is seven heritages, and they were going to be spread across three books which is a great number because you can see it immediately doesn’t work.

The first of those books was Races of Destiny, which focused on the Humans, Half-Elves and Half-Orcs, and that was pretty novel and acceptable because those were all, ultimately, humans and their cover bands. Plus, the half-Elf and half-Orc needed the help, good grief. There was a really broken option for the half-Elf here, but don’t worry, it still wasn’t enough to make them good. In addition to this they threw in an extra humanlike culture, the Illumians, who, oh hey, I’ve written about the one (1) cool thing they can do, too.

Then there’s Races of Stone, which takes the Dwarf as its central point, and then attach them to the Gnomes, who have some of the same underground history. It’s not a strong relationship, but with the 2e culture of the Svirfneblin and gnomes as their relationship to stories of mines and knockers, like, there’s not nothing there. Especially since, as you know, gnomes are made out of plaster. Gnomes are an orphan culture in terms of having an actual identity that doesn’t start from ‘small and annoying,’ though, so it’s always going to have be backfilled. Then, to fill out that book, they gave them the Goliath, a third ‘of stone’ culture that got to do something the other two weren’t. By the way, this means this book gets to represent Critical Role’s headwaters for the worst character (Scanlon) and best (Pike) and also is the first appearance of Grog’s culture (Goliaths), and Grog is… also in Critical Role.

Finally, then there’s Races of the Wild, and you might think this book gets to be easy with the ‘nature’ premise since, y’know, most things are from nature. That’s what nature is. Problem comes if you want the second thing to put in this book, and that’s where the editor doing this divvying then has to look awkwardly at the cultures left in the bin. See, Elves are huge at this point. You can guarantee if you open any sourcebook about any new setting, it has some subtype of elves. Elves have three different variants that are all really good in the Monster Manual! They start with the mechanically decent and overstuffed Elf and then replaces each feature with something that’s not much better but is better, until you wind up with something five steps away from wherever the poor half-Elf has to live. Elves are one of the most unnecessarily beloved cultures of 3rd edition and I feel like it kind of pre-drafted the easiest portion of Races of the Wild. Even just the pantheon of elves had already been given a full formal writeup in the Forgotten Realms sourcebook Faiths and Pantheons.

As far as filling out with a new heritage, that can’t be hard. What’s something that elves don’t do? Oh, have wings and be birds. Easy. We’ve got that, we add in the Raptorans and then we conspicuously avoid mentioning the Avariel. Who are elves. That fly. With their wings. Because they are bird elves.

Alright, with a huge chunk of work pre-written for you with the bit that people would care about, and a new culture that’s just going to take the Avariel and scrub the serial numbers off, what’s the other heritage that needs to fit in this book?

This book got the Halflings. Not like, a prize or a treasure, but like the crumbs of the crisps packet, all shaken to the corner of the bag. They didn’t get to be people of the cities like the stouthearted adventurers were in Races of Destiny. They didn’t get to be people who explored caves and lived in burrows in Races of Stone. They didn’t even get to grow wings and somehow sneak into Races of the Dragon, which can sit in the corner with Races of Eberron. Halflings were declared to be one of the ‘Races of the Wild.’ One of the people with a deep, abiding connection to nature, one of the people who have for some reason, the same kind of status in the forests and woods that Elves do.

Now, I think it’s very silly that Halflings wound up here in the first place but it also gets to be an example of how misbegotten Halflings are as a culture in the first place when the book tries to justify their presence here. See, Halflings travel around. They are always being driven by a want to be on the move. That’s why they have their carts and their performances and their caravans. Halflings are ‘of the wild’ because they are uh, on the highway a lot? They like food and drink. They need to keep moving what with all the stealing they do (wait are we making them caravan-dwelling naturally connected thieves abort abort abort abort).

How then, does this book build out the idea of the ‘Halfling as Race of the Wild’ though? There’s a bunch of flavour, effectively saying ‘here is the life of one Halfling and that Halfling likes nature, so we can extrapolate that out as a normal, please forget everything you know about an extensive history of Halflings as bucolic town dwellers.’ The place this explication gets its teeth in, the thing that has the best chance of anchoring player characters to the idea of a wild heritage is the mechanics.

What are the Halfling mechanics?

Well, there’s a Halfling prestige class here, the Luckstealer. It is a spellcaster who has powers to influence luck. There is no reason for this to be a heritage-locked prestige class, it does not relate to anything innate to Halflings beyond the general vibe that ‘they are lucky,’ but you gotta rack those numbers up. Don’t worry, it’s also trash. There’s also the Whisperknife, which are um, they’re a Halfling-limited prestige class because they, uh. They … they’re small. They’re a melee and ranged throwing weapon Prestige Class that only Halflings can become because… the rule says so. It also gets to be one of many prestige classes of its type that is not meaningfully better than just playing a Rogue, which to be fair is a very well-peopled category in 3rd edition, because a lot of the people making material for the game had no idea how to express power or what was powerful. Still: two prestige classes, one for ‘sneaking and throwing things’ and one for ‘stealing luck.’ Not very wild based, but also, both are very thiefy.

You know, like all the pickpockets you encounter in the woods.

By contrast, Elves get the Champion of Corellon Larethian (basically a woodlands paladin), the Ruathar (which is a class for anyone who really likes Elves), and Wildrunner (which is forgettable, but you know, whatever). They’re all elfy, they relate to elves doing things, and the Elf is already well served by some total nonsense in other books, so whatever. Raptorans get the Skypledged and Stormatlon, two prestige classes about being a cool flying Raptoran with different kinds of abilities, but they’re a new heritage, you don’t want to make any new heritage come with a prestige class so powerful you don’t want to do anything else.

Mixed in with these, by the way, is the Arcane Hierophant, which may be busto but it may not depending on how your DM interprets its requirements. Another wonderful thing of 3.5 editing, the very complicated game sometimes had rules in it that didn’t work. Easily the best thing to do with this book’s prestige class options, because, again, the people making this game didn’t know what ‘powerful’ was, or if they did, they didn’t want to do anything with it that didn’t involve blowing the wizard.

There’s also the Racial Substitution levels, which are ways you can take a member of one class and make it work more appropriately for the heritage you picked. Racial Substition levels are really cool, since they let you refine the way that a class fit with a heritage. Like, Half-Orc Paladins, with their charisma penalty, kind of have to handle Paladinning differently, so how do they work? What’s different? That kinda thing.

For Races of the Wild and their Halfling options, they get the Monk, the Rogue, and the Druid. Now, not to rush through it given the size of this treatment already, but the way a Halfling Rogue is different from an ordinary Rogue is that a Halfling Rogue is worse. Rogues are a great class for 3.5 Halflings to take, because the Rogue has a source of damage that doesn’t care about the size of the Halfling and cares more about hitting – which Halflings are better at because they live in a world of bigger targets. Also, social skills don’t care about how big your ears are, though Hiding does care about how small your whole body is, which means the everything the Rogue wants the Halfling has and nothing they want is missing. Which means if you want to specialise the Rogue as a Halfling, somehow, you probably want to do something that just ditches something a Halfling doesn’t need. Like, say, give up rapier and shortsword proficiencies in exchange for just dagger use, maybe change the skill list up a bit to add some nature skills away from the magical skills. You know, something like that.

Instead the Halfling Rogue Racial Substitution is just the Rogue, but worse. It even takes one of the excellent Rogue abilities and… turns it off. You’re better off not taking that level of Halfling Rogue Racial Substitution.

The Monk, then? This, in Races of the Wild, is a chance to take the Halfling Monk and then root it in the way that a Halfling is a Race of the Wild. Which this book doesn’t do, at all. Oh, it’s a strong mechanical package, that gives a player character something interesting and different to do. Instead of getting flurries of blows the Halfling Monk Racial Substitution Levels (god what a mouthful this is) gets to use Skirmish, and move and hit harder. That means the Halfling Monk suddenly benefits from the Monk’s movement, their increased armour class (to get around attacks of opportunity), and the lower damage dice of the Halfling Monk (because of its tiny, tiny fists) isn’t as important because Skirmish is the majority of your damage, and you can now hit-and-run stun-and-skirmish. You’re still putting out most of the damage of someone full-attacking every turn, but instead you’re much more mobile and more of a controlling force. That’s very cool and it gives an obvious fatnasy for the player to work into when they start to build a character.

What it completely fails to do is express in any way a relationship to nature and the wild, since this is the 3e Monk, which is, well, pretty orientalist and explicitly derived from a western audience’s dad’s memories of a TV show called Kung Fu that may have accidentally included something from actual Eastern Kung Fu mysticism. In much the same way that the iconic Halfling source text depicts them as town-dwelling bucolic nobodies who like to sit in nice cottages and get stoned, Kung Fu monasteries may be in the wilderness but they aren’t integrated with it. They are, in many cases, all about transcending a relationship to nature, because, you know, nature is just an illusion and there’s a greater infinite we’re all part of on the cycle to Samsara, or whatever.

Could have done something cool here, like crow or rat style Kung Fu vibes. Could have twisted ‘Monk’ to be something like a Friar. Could have used this chance to extol the ways that the Monks of the Halfling communities are wanderers and travellers to represent their association with being Of The Wild, but instead…

nope.

They also altered the Druid, to make it so that a Halfling who takes the Druid, and I cannot underscore this enough, is worse. See, druids have this ability, wild shape. If you’re small heritage, the ability to use magic to transform into something larger, like a wolf or a bear, seems to me to be a natural kind of magical effect you would always want. After all, you are able to do that, if you take a druid. If you play a druid, I cannot understate this, if you just take a Halfling, a heritage that has no reason to play a Druid beyond its raw power, and level up as a Druid, you will be a much more powerful melee combatant and a perfectly good spellcaster, and if you take the Halfling substitution levels that are meant to make you ‘a more Halflingy druid’, you become a worse druid. Because the Halfling Druid’s wild shape can’t make itself into larger creatures until level 15, where other Druids get it at level 8.

The thing that drove me to do this, like, the way this article started is I walked into the garage, grabbed a random 3e book I haven’t looked at in a while, pulled it open and flipped to a random page. What I found was the page which explained the origin story of the Halflings, the creation myth of them. This myth was that the Halfling Goddess looked at every one of the other heritages, and found something about them to pull together to make the Halflings. The other Gods, duly annoyed that she had stolen from their handiwork, demanded she give up her thieving ways. She cut out that part of herself, resulting in a secret Halfling god of thieves, that the Halflings also worship and pretend they don’t.

This story is… it’s fine, it’s a mythologising of a self, a new heritage that stands in the cultural space and says ‘well, we don’t have anything of our own, sure, but we just have the best idea from everyone.’ It’s a generalist story, it’s the sort of self-gratifying historiography and mythologising that real cultures do. It’s a fine story. The thing is, the story that explains why Halflings are Halflings and then does nothing to explain why Halflings call themselves Halflings. And with the idea of a goddess who made them being split into two halves, the story drives right up to the window —

— and then doesn’t place an order.

Look, Halflings are hard to concept. It took me listening to one of the best game writers I know to find a way to treat Halflings in Cobrin’Seil in a way that made them make sense to me. They are ultimately a thing that exists in the world from an end point back. You know Halflings exist, you know they’re called Halflings, but things like where they came from or how they exist or what that means, that’s just vague, that’s in the category of ‘I guess.’ They are not people with their own iconography, their own aesthetic, their own value, except as defined by being ‘half’ of a Human.

This book’s attempt to make them into nature-loving wanderers, seemingly because they couldn’t find a better place for them was done in a real half-assed way. Not that the people weren’t trying! They might have been trying! If they were trying, the natural conclusion is they were incompetent, which even if you don’t mean to be, still looks a lot like half an ass.

The Halflings deserve a Whole Ass.

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