#will ask people on discord about that tomorrow probably

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

[one] [two]

18+ minors do not interact!

The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh. 

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.” 

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,” 

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”  

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.” 

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-” 

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice. 

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound. 

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink. 

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him. 

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–” 

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene. 

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole. 

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.   

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...” 

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second. 

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.” 

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that? 

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself. 

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.  

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all. 

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” 

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows. 

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts. 

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit. 

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later. 

“Hello?” 

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still. 

“Sung?” 

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously. 

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed. 

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…” 

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep. 

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.  

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard. 

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips. 

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.  

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before. 

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9. 

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs. 

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do. 

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time. 

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.” 

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.” 

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan. 

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk. 

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke. 

Could it be… No. No way. 

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks. 

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does. 

“Park Jisung?” 

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it. 

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure. 

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation. 

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks. 

 “Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?” 

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand. 

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it!  “Will you assign those as well?” 

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face. 

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you. 

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous. 

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner. 

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,” 

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind. 

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before. 

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat. 

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.” 

I know! He thinks. 

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?” 

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way. 

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002. 

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-” 

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?” 

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.” 

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week. 

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?” 

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?” 

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.” 

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too. 

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game;  this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off. 

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat. 

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas. 

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention. 

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left. 

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then. 

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.  

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline. 

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom. 

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing. 

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face. 

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly. 

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you. 

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop. 

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch. 

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn. 

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,” 

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.” 

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?” 

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.” 

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?” 

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest. 

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that. 

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?” 

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,” 

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?” 

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head. 

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?” 

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless. 

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?” 

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.” 

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?” 

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.” 

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening. 

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.   

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again. 

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended. 

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.” 

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks. 

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,” 

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it. 

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty. 

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

 “The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.” 

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures. 

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina. 

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her. 

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.” 

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier. 

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.” 

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this. 

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake. 

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.” 

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed. 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly. 

“Your partner will be,” 

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

 “Lee Chan.” 

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view. 

“Your constellation is-” 

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.” 

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out. 

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.” 

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours. 

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.” 

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction. 

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.  

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.” 

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in. 

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.” 

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,” 

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes. 

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far. 

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too. 

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast. 

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly. 

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together.  After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance. 

“W-what?” 

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—” 

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.” 

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-” 

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you. 

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop. 

“Any of those work for me,” 

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.” 

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back. 

“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you  at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether. 

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you. 

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information. 

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you. 

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead. 

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?” 

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,” 

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum. 

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,” 

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper. 

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later. 

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.  

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought. 

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.” 

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. 

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week. 

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside. 

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’ 

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message. 

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it. 

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back. 

“Down the hall, second door on your right.” 

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both? 

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile. 

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,” 

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,” 

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.” 

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research. 

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person. 

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head. 

“Jisung? You okay?” 

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs. 

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.” 

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.” 

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?” 

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence. 

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand. 

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm. 

“You live close by?” 

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.” 

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.” 

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile. 

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap. 

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home. 

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own. 

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,” 

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?” 

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?” 

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before. 

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.” 

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside. 

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here. 

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste. 

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”  

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—” 

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare. 

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

“So, what happened with… what’s her name,  Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?” 

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,” 

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place. 

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online. 

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record. 

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar. 

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.” 

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,”  Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys. 

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.” 

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long. 

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this. 

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,” 

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.” 

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.” 

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.” 

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.” 

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting. 

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.” 

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out,  “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.” 

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung. 

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue. 

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up. 

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.” 

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else. 

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech. 

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—” 

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why  did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur. 

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you. 

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either. 

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.  

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around. 

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.” 

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,” 

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—” 

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.” 

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it. 

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?” 

“How about the library?” 

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…” 

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity. 

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,” 

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else. 

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat. 

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—” 

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,” 

“Foul.” 

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,” 

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?” 

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks. 

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets. 

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.” 

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take. 

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.” 

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made. 

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed. 

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.” 

“That’s why you’re always at the library?” 

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors. 

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.” 

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you. 

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”  

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,” 

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now. 

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate. 

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse. 

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape. 

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung. 

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar. 

Could it be… 

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already. 

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.” 

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you. 

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance… 

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in. 

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him. 

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks. 

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?” 

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say. 

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck. 

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face. 

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you. 

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.” 

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating. 

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you. 

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…” 

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment. 

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye. 

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he���s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—” 

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—” 

“Jisung.” 

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?” 

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips. 

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable: 

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((

[victoriadallonfan]

I was going to go to bed, but got a sudden DM on discord asking about if I was trans or not, since I give off the “vibes”.

I shared with them some screenshots of my thoughts on the matter, and felt it might help people here to know how I personally identify:

In short, you can refer to me as she, her, they, them, he, him, but in the end I am Ridtom aka VictoriaDallonFan.

Any and all are allowed.

I don’t feel any body dysmorphia related to my presentation, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like the opportunity to have the chance to alter my body to be whatever presentation I want with a press of a button (as mentioned above).

If I wanted be a woman for a decade I’d do it and feel comfortable in that body. If I wanted to be non-binary for a decade I’d do it and feel comfortable in that body. It’s just a body to me and my only limitation is the technology and money of the current day and age.

Frankly, I don’t know what term would apply to me and ultimately I’ll feel comfortable with anything so long as you aren’t taking it as an opportunity to dust off the slur dictionary you keep in the back pocket.

I am solidly Aromantic, so you can at least pin that down hahaha

Anyways, hope that helps matters. If you have any questions I’ll probably answer them tomorrow when I’m not sleepy.

[zkylearnstherope]

Sorry, I had to ask for permission first...

They said yes so, I am sharing this now!

If you comment on the video, there's a chance Green would respond.

Which makes your comment canon in the AB universe, yay. A is now canon. (This part is a joke.)

Yes, it's an Official Alan Animation, but Green would tell you that they themselves recorded it. This is the video mentioned in the recent community post.

Have fun.

I got the link from the AB Discord Server, in the video-discussion channel. Not sure who found it first, but it's probable that the Team themselves leaked it.

There's two videos in that channel. Watch both of them. The second one is hilarious.

I have no clue why the videos are already up when they're supposed to be uploaded tomorrow, but oh well.

Last thing, people are already turning this into an ARG thing. There are questions that Green would avoid answering (like the part about Second's Awakening), so you could technically ask more in-universe related questions. Oh and Green hates TDL, which is understandable.

[gatheredfates]

SEA'S COMMUNITY COMPENDIUM

Earlier today, I made this post asking if people might be interested in a directory of active XIV roleplay communities/discords that got a bit of traction.

Given the response that post got, I put one together. Say hello to Sea's Community Compendium, a little side-project I'll (attempt) to maintain with the help of this community to serve as launch pad for roleplayers to get a feel for what kind of roleplay, events and communities exist.

All the information you need to know for the compendium is contained within the document, so I encourage everyone to have a read and get in touch with their server owners/fc leads to see if they'd like their content featured.

This project will not exist without people submitting to it. If no one contributes, then it won't be successful.

If you have any questions, suggestions, etc. my askbox/message box is open. If the project is successful, I'll post monthly reminding people it exists and encouraging them to submit their content. If not... well, I tried!

If you know of links to large-scale, publicly available discords (think the XIV Reddit Discord, hunts, etc.) or miscellaneous resources like lore guides, community blogs, etc. you can let me know via this post. For everything else, please read the document and use the google form created here.

I will start adding links and such tomorrow after I sleep so please don't hesitate to suggest something even if you think I probably already know about it (I probably don't).

[satanicspinosaurus]

No Effort Without Error

Tags: hurt/ comfort, established relationship, post-game, Astarion X G/N Tav, they/them pronouns, bard!Tav, BDSM, kink negotiations, scene negotiations, sub Astarion, enthusiastic consent, collaring, accidental triggering, freeze trauma response, trauma spiral self-narration, confusion between abuser and partner, use of safeword, use of safeword by Dom, supportive partner, aftercare, use of mage hand to respect boundaries, Addams family reference, talking through emotions, author tried to do some themes or something, author’s happily married & wants you to know that having severe trauma doesn’t mean you can’t have a happy relationship, author/Tav believes in people’s ability to grow, Astarion is in process of agreeing, Tav started out as kind of a blank slank character and ooops I contextualized them, kissing 

Length: 4k

Rating: Mature 

Read on A03: here.

Summary: Astarion is accidentally triggered in a scene, after being really excited about trying something new, and Tav provides comfort as they reaffirm their relationship. I’ve tried to tag everything, but if you have questions please just shoot me a message. I’m always happy to try and help people engage with challenging media.

With thanks: To the wonderful @just-a-refrigerator for proof-reading this! It was incredibly helpful during writing to know I’d have a pair of eyeballs to comb this over before it went out. You are amazing and helped me grow as a writer. (And a general thanks to the Astarion Brainrot Discord Server. You all are feral and I love it.🖤)

•── ⋆⋅☾☆☽⋅⋆ ──•

A bard was a solid choice for a traveling companion, Astarion reasoned, if one’s goal was to start living again. He and Tav had spent only a short amount of time in Baldur’s Gate before hitting the road again. They were eager to find out what fortunes and wonders lay ahead of them as they chased a solution to the sunshine problem. 

Their time together since the Nautiloid crash had been enriching in more ways than just coin. Tav’s ability to entertain patrons and convince Innkeepers to allow the couple to stay for free was instrumental in  keeping them in finer beds. Astarion also never missed an opportunity to joke about Tav’s sword swallowing ability after the crowd finished cheering. In part because the bard never took it as an actual advance. 

Maybe that was what made it easy to be in their company. The understanding that one could play a role without it touching something deep or hidden in them. Sometimes, beautiful people just wanted to lay down innuendo without it being leveraged as a secret sign of trauma against them. Tav would just chuckle, as they did today, and escort Astarion to their accommodations. 

The door opened without protest. With a quick flick of the wrist, Tav was shucking off layers and handing them to the mage hand they had dubbed Thing. The little clawed creature didn’t seem to loyally return after dropping Tav’s weapons in the corner, instead cheekily hovering by Astarion and gesturing to help him with his coat. Astarion didn’t really buy that Thing was its own being, like the bard liked to claim. But the little helpful gestures it did touched him enough to have even the snippy vampire giving a polite nod of thanks as Thing ferried his coat away for him.

“What do you think of the room?” Tav asked as they pulled off their boots, eyeing them carefully for wear. 

Astarion looked around and shrugged. It was acceptable. Probably the best Inn this middling city had. “It has a private bath.” he eventually surmised. “And art that doesn’t immediately make me want to claw my eyes out.” 

Tav made a soft sound of acknowledgment. “I might drop off my shoes to the cobbler tomorrow, then. I do not like how this heel is feeling.” 

“We should offload some of the plunder,” Astarion added. “It’s been a while and I don’t want to risk anything.” 

The new bag of holding was a Godsend really, but Astarion wasn’t eager to overload it and send its contents into the Astral plane. Considering how sticky both of their hands were, it was a real possibility. 

“What do we even have in there now?” Tav asked. “Maybe just start with jewelry? I saw some sign in Elvish saying there was a jeweler’s when we came in today. They would give you a good price.” 

Astarion snorted. Tav was shameless about flirting their way to profit. They treated it like combat: sometimes, the pale elf would be irresistible and wildly effective. Other times, Tav would draw the spotlight to themselves and handle it solo. 

He retrieved the leather bag from the closet, and undid the closure with ease. He tipped over the enchanted leather, bidding it to dump all the jewelry it contained onto the bed. A hodge-podge of trinkets and amulets rained down. Rings so heavy they pressed into the sheets, a fine wrought golden belt of coins, and some uncut gems topped their little hoard of treasure. Astarion had already begun looking through the pieces when, after a small pause, the bag deposited a dog collar with a detailed metal tag onto the bed. 

Tav chuckled, “I suppose the bag thinks we could get coin for the tag.” 

They picked it up and turned it over in their hand. It was fine dark dyed leather, with matching lambskin on the interior. Something a noble would commission for a beloved pet. Perhaps a dalmatian, considering the use of contrast white stitching and its generous size. It had been a bizarre find, part of a cache they hurriedly pushed into the bag a few weeks ago. They had completely forgotten about it an hour later, when Astarion’s knife found the back of an Oathbreaker and failed to kill her instantly.

Astarion glanced over. “It won’t sell for much,” he said in a fairly measured tone. “Not compared to the rest.” 

The lack of lilt made Tav perk up and flick their brown eyes over to Astarion. A few months ago, perhaps, he would have busied himself. Made a show of checking over other items to hide from the thoughts that had bubbled up into his head. But things were different now. The two of them had history. Trust was building.Those thoughts didn’t have to live in the shadows anymore. 

It was clear he was thinking of other uses for it. 

“I suppose it would look rather dashing on me,” Tav offered.

They brushed aside a few dreads from their neck, enjoying the way Astarion looked over the exposed area with a specific type of hunger. But when Tav brought up the collar to loosely display it, the vampire paused.

“Of course, my dear,” he finally agreed. “But I thought perhaps- I could try it this time?” 

Tav lit up at the way a soft blush tinged Astarion’s ears. Neither of them had many direct restrictions on playtime. Both of them were fairly consummate omnivores when it came to that sort of desire. Between them, though, Astarion tended to default to being active and in control. But recently, his need to be in control had given way to a need to enjoy life. 

Tav nodded, letting a warm smile bloom on their face. “What are you thinking?” they asked, holding onto the collar for the moment. 

“We don’t have any other obligations for the night,” Astarion pointed out. “It could be…fun to have all my needs taken care of for me.” 

They had done that a few times, but in reverse. Astarion really could be quite sweet and giving when no one was watching. He was also shameless at times. He enjoyed forcing his love to eat from the ground, then pull the make-shift leash forward to allow them to use their mouth a bit higher up. 

“I would enjoy that,” Tav said. “Anything specific?”

Astarion was already tossing the other items back into the bag. He was eager, thinking of the last time he had allowed himself to submit to Tav’s creativity and generosity in bed. 

“Feed me, clean me, and bed me,” he listed out. “Tell me when I’ve been good but also don’t be afraid to pull me around by the ring on the collar if I’m not.” 

“Anything else if you are naughty?” Tav pressed. 

“No kicks,” Astarion added quickly. “I don’t mind a light spanking, but I don’t want to be back handed tonight.” 

Tav reached out and offered a hand for Astarion to nuzzle into. They noticed that the elf let his ear brush their hand, and they took up the implicit offer to gently stroke the base- delighting in the little shiver it caused. 

“You want to be my beloved pet tonight.” Tav summarized. “You want to submit and to be cared for and to feel how you are the center of my world.” 

They could feel Astarion beginning to melt into them, trusting the weight of his head into their hand. Tav kept stroking that delicate piece of flesh and delighting in how it made him hood his eyes in pleasure. 

“Unfair,” Astarion whined with no true complaint in his heart. “I think you’ve already started.” 

Tav chuckled, as if they were afraid too loud of a sound would spook their lover’s relaxation. “Don’t tell anyone- but I am quite fond of you. It is embarrassing really. It used to be a part time hobby, but I do believe I’ve gone at least to full time now.”

Maybe traveling with Tav was easy, because they brought laughter to Astarion’s world. From gallows humor to little moments like this- where the two of them brushed fingers together and laughed quietly about how absurdly cheesy it all was.

It was a sound that had begun to settle in Astarion’s bones. 

“Well, let me strip first, before you start,” Astarion eventually said. “Keep yours on for now.” 

Tav rolled their eyes as Astarion began husking off layers. “Bossy little thing,” they laughed, shaking their head theatrically enough their earring tinkled in agreement. 

“Oh, but think about how wonderful I’ll be, properly trained,” Astarion said as he struggled to unlace his pants. A clear bulge was making the task more difficult. 

“Might have to commission a matching leash then,” Tav mused. “I bet you would look so lovely crawling up to me.” 

“Ugh, stop winding me up. At least until I’m out of these damned pants,” Astarion complained like he hadn’t told the tailor to make them this tight. “Damn things look good, but I regret them every time I have to take them off.” 

Tav chuckled, but obeyed the request- delighting in watching his lover squirm out of very tight trousers on the ground, his thick thighs working against him half the time. There wasn’t an inch of Astarion they didn’t adore, but in that moment it was hard not to think about how deliciously long his legs were- how many wonderful options they offered for Tav to touch and nibble on. 

Eventually, smallclothes went flying. All that was left was one very excited vampire kneeling in front of Tav. The delicious blush on his chest wasn’t even remotely the only visual example of his excitement. But it was glorious to think how that tinge on his pale chest was only possible because Astarion was fed well enough. For Tav to realize that they were responsible for both the physical ability to do so and the emotions that inspired it. 

“What’s your word, love?” they asked. 

For a while the vampire had sassed them each time they had asked. But now it was just part of the game. It inspired anticipation. Like an orchestra tuning up to let the audience know the show was about to start. 

“Goose,” Astarion replied, preening under the nod Tav gave them. 

“Alright then, my pet,” Tav said, holding out the collar. “Just lean forward, let me collar you, and we will begin.” 

The lining felt pleasantly soft on Astarion’s skin. He helped Tav place it on him by eagerly offering his neck. The bard’s nimble fingers latched it, then slipped between Astarion’s throat and the collar to check for fit. 

The second that finger left, moving upwards with its friends to run through his curls with all the affection he knew Tav had for him, Astarion realized how cold the room was. 

“Look at you, my good boy,” Tav murmured. They focused on gently using their long nails to scratch at Astarion’s scalp in a way that usually sent tingles down his spine. 

His body did move- shaking on little of its own accord. The weight of the collar was pressing down on him, trapping him in his own skin and away from the moment. Something in his brain whispered not to blink, not to look away- something was coming. Something bad. He was trapped, but at least he could have the privilege of watching it hurt him. But only if he didn’t close his eyes. 

“Astarion?” 

The sound was a little muffled, a little nasally. He needed to respond, right? Those were his the rules. He had to obey in all things; he was his? Theirs? To have your name called was a direct command to look. He needed to look at him them. 

But Astarion couldn’t force his neck to turn, to face the situation. To realize the gravity of it all. The knowledge that pain would come, that it would be his fault because he still couldn’t look, turned the fine shivers into full tremors. 

“Alright. OK. This is OK,” came the voice. “I’m going to use ‘goose’. I’ll keep you safe Astarion. I promise.” 

Dissociation was a thing Astarion still struggled with. This was the opposite of that, somehow. He wasn’t far away, present but not here- safe in a manner of speaking by retreating into his own mind. No, he was nailed to the spot, trapped under the surface of his skin- forced to feel, to accept, but not to act. 

He was entombed in his own body. His only company was the fear of being left to suffer. 

“This needs to come off,” he heard, the voice sounding like it was coming through gauze. “I am going to use my hands to take this off you, Astarion.  You might feel it press on the back of your neck for a second.” 

The weight lifted away, the sound of the tag sickly singing as it was tossed to some other corner of the room. He was supposed to breathe, right? 

“Do you want me to touch you, Astarion?” 

The thought of being trapped, being forced to be complicit in his own abuse, sent a spark of anger up into his mouth. But it was fanned by a vague feeling that he could speak his mind without fear of being slapped down.

“No,” Astarion hissed. “Get away from me!” 

He needed space. He needed to feel he was at least as big as the body that trapped him.

“Of course. Of course love, I will not touch you until you tell me to,” came the calm response. “You are shivering. Do you want a blanket?” 

Was he? Astarion looked down. His eyes struggled to focus on a hand. His hand, he remembered as he flexed it. Yes, it was shaking. His gaze wandered up the arm his hand was attached to.The forearm was goose-fleshed. 

“Yes,” he decided. “I want to be warm.” 

The smell of familiar magic- rose oil and iron- filled the room. There were some assorted sounds- footsteps, pillows hitting the ground- and then a familiar shadowy hand presented a quilt it could barely hold in its claws. 

“Thing can help you put it on, if you want Astarion,” offered the bard. 

Astarion nodded. Thing T. Thing was a familiar, safe sight now. It was always gentle, as it was now, laying the blanket onto his shoulders but bearing the weight so Astarion could sort it out the way he wanted it- creating a barrier between him and the world. 

“Thank you, Thing,” he replied automatically. 

The room came back to him after a few minutes. It wasn’t exactly fair to say it left, but it took time for his brain to be able to accept and process the world around him instead of hyper-fixating on keeping himself alive. He had to consciously realize that there was ground for him to be sitting on. That the ground probably came with a ceiling as there was no free-moving air. 

Eventually, he realized there was also the gentle sound of a violin, singing a song. 

It was one with no words Just swimming melodies, occasionally crowned by a happy chord. It helped Astarion remember. He’d heard an elven mother humming it to her child a few moons ago, as the babe cried from the pain of teeth coming in. He automatically focused on it. Tav asked him if he knew it, and Astarion had responded honestly- all of that was lost to him now. But he liked how comforting it sounded. 

Weeks later, when Astarion was having trouble resting during the peak of the day while the rest of their temporary party laughed in the sun, Tav sat next to him and, without a word, began playing it. 

Maybe that was why traveling with Tav was so easy. They were confident of their own beautiful voice- able to hold a room and charm even frigid, scared hearts that had long since stopped beating to movement. But they were also comfortable around others' painful silence, welcoming it like an old lover- with an open heart and a compliment that was somehow always genuine. 

It had worn on Astarion for a long time, waiting for the bard to blink and finally admit they were in over their head- that the would-be savior’s reach had finally exceeded their grasp. But eventually, Tav showed him their own scars. He had lifted his hand to a small one on their right eyebrow and cheek. The first one. One that even Astarion’s clever eyes could barely see. 

Eventually Astarion learned they kept their eyes kind and open, not because they didn’t know what danger was, but in spite of it. 

Maybe that’s why it was so easy traveling with Tav. Because, somewhere along the way, Astarion had figured out their hero persona had cracks. Cracks they had delicately, skillfully tried to cover. Cracks he could help smooth out sometimes, when someone misgendered them or an enemy carried a whip. Cracks that, deep down, under the near unshakeable confidence performers have, Tav feared made them unlovable. But Astarion could say those cracks were nothing compared to their jovial spirit or clever eyes.

Astarion yearned for those warm, brown eyes. The kind that reminded him of dark soil deep in the forest, filled with all the richness and potential of creation. Speckled with a million curiosities that shallow people might miss by focusing on the strong cheekbones or soft lips nearby. He found them waiting for him, like always, hopeful they could be of any service. 

“I want you to touch me, Tav,” Astarion realized out loud. 

The bard laid their violin down and tapped the bed, offering the space. “It might do you some good to move your limbs,” they suggested. “But I am always happy to come to you.” 

Astarion looked at the ground. Yes, he could move. The walls weren’t quite so close to prevent that. The floorboards creaked in protest as he dragged himself and his blanket over them. 

He sank into the bed, deciding to lean on Tav’s shoulder. Maybe it helped a bit to realize this pinned down one of their arms- keeping them close, but less able to respond. It was grounding to remember that so many things were on Astarion’s terms now. Yes, because he was free. 

But also because Tav was gentle and would never deny him a single comfort. 

Little thoughts began to swim in his head- phrases he could pluck from the ether and begin a conversation with. I didn’t know, please believe me. I am sorry, please don’t punish me. Please don’t leave me. Please promise you’ll trust me again when I say I want this. Please tell me I am not broken.

Please, please, please- a choir of hungry ghosts that had long grown tired of asking to have not been hurt, and instead found smaller and smaller requests to be disappointed on. Until Tav came in with their bleeding heart, and fed them so graciously Astarion could begin to remember they were just specters he carried- and not him. 

Astarion didn’t have to bargain with them. He suspected they would always be there. But now he could let them rest and find other things to play with that would nourish his soul.  

“I really wanted it,” Astarion finally said, after his hand traced patterns on Tav’s thigh for a few minutes. 

“I know,” Tav agreed. “You’ve gotten very good at asking for things and letting yourself have them.” 

The bard paused and offered their palm. “May I kiss you?” 

They smiled when Astarion granted them the privilege of a hand, bowing their head to press a slow kiss on the back of his hand. 

“Thank you for being honest with me,” they said, not having moved an inch. Their breath was warm as they spoke, fluttering on Astarion’s hand. 

There was something about the way they said it, that Astarion instantly knew they meant after he had been collared. He frowned, not sure how to take it. 

Astarion didn’t want to think the truest core of him was scared. That if someone unearthed him, or that if he let someone dig deep, there would be only fear and broken things to find. 

“I don’t know if I want you to think of me like that,” he began. “Like some cold and timid person, half ready to cry when he’s finally, truly naked.” 

Tav sat back up, offering for Astarion to reclaim his resting spot on their shoulder or duck under and be held close. The elf chose the latter, enjoying the space between ribs and arms made strong by swordplay and silly acrobatics.

“I do not think of you like that.” Tav promised. 

Astarion accepted the answer- a simple negative that painted him as so many other wonderful things that even Tav’s silver tongue couldn’t explain. The bard was so trusting towards him, at times it was infectious. 

A thought tickled Astarion’s brain. 

“Thank you for using the safeword,” he mumbled. “It’s good to know that it’s not that I wasn’t being pleasing enough for you. But that…maybe me being truly hurt wasn’t something you wanted.” 

Tav showed their other hand coming slowly to join the other one- pausing, giving Astarion a chance to defend his space- to deny being boxed in, even by affection, if it was unwanted. 

“I hear vampires are long-lived,” Tav eventually said. “I would suspect that given our adventurousness, it will not be the last time one of us has to use it. Even if you never wanted to do anything like that again, I want you to know that you can always tell me to stop.” 

Astarion hummed, accepting the point. He chewed on it though, especially the last sentence. 

“I don’t think you exactly need a safeword for life,” he retorted. 

Tav laughed, clear and bright. “Your passions are too great, Astarion, to be content with what is laid at your feet. That is one of the things I love about you. You go for life’s throat, even if you might stumble in the process.” 

There was mirth in their eyes as they thought about some future Astarion couldn’t really see. “I just want you to chase it as hard as you can. You know I’ll be here to try and catch you when you ask for it.” 

They stayed like that for a while- Astarion enjoying the way Tav just breathed, their ribs slightly pressing into him with each breath. His eyes wandered, surveying the room. The way Thing rested in the corner, eager to be called upon. The happy trail of his own clothes strewn on the floor. The way the collar rested on the nightstand- far enough away to be safe, but precious enough to deserve a proper spot. 

He would have to think later if this was a failure or not. Something deep in his gut churned, insisting it was. Astarion wasn’t sure if he wanted to listen to it. But the way Tav held him in the moment, devoted and without reservation- he knew this was safe. 

Astarion leaned to catch his beloved's mouth, to taste their enthusiasm, their softness as Tav allowed him to devour them- trusting him to take the lead and find joy for them both in the fragile, uneasy moment. 

Maybe that was why traveling with Tav was simple. Because they knew their love was a verb, and not something that was found in a single heart. It was not something that could be tainted by a single word, or broken by even a terrifyingly, truly unintentional slight. 

It was something they did together- even if they sometimes accidentally stumbled in the process. 

One of them got to be the first person that hour to say I love you. And the other one got to smile and chose to say it back. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Author Notes: Thank you for reading this! As always, I would like to remind you thirsty folks to hydrate a bit if needed. :3 I’d also love to hear if you had any comments or thoughts about this piece. (Good or bad! If something didn’t hit, let me know.) Also- just curious if you HCed which person said “I love you first” (and why) I would love to hear about it. I do have a small follow-up planned thanks to our Discord talking about *boots* that will be in a similar vibe. And one about Tav having their own issues for Astarion to help them on! I didn’t plan to add another, usual character to my WIP list, but this they/them bard!Tav was super fun to write. 

[dreamyzhou]

Two Pawn War

Pairing: enemy!chanhee and fem!reader

Genre: worn out students!enemies to friends (?) AU

Words: 4,3k

Warnings: both you and Chanhee are high school students and are enemies there, verbal abuse from mother, substances, talks about mental health, mention of clowns, terminologies of chess, pre-calculus (you will still understand even if you don’t understand any of them deeply)

Inspired by: Law and Order SVU (Season 10 Episode 12) and my own experiences

Premise: You were high school students, yearning for a mother’s love. You’d do anything for it, even if it meant antagonising a boy for a conditional one. As you grew older, you both realised none of the fights were worthy… might as well be with one another.

Dedicated to three people. First, a fellow Chanhee-biased, Sana @sanaxo-o. Second, the chaotic Izzy @from-izzy who still bombarded my discord and this account despite me being inactive. Finally, Mona @quaissants, my closest friend out of the server. This took me almost 4 months to write, because I was heavily depressed, but you brought me back up.

Tagging: @deoboyznet

2nd of 31st Alternate Universe by Ellie unlocked by Chanhee.

You were a puppet. A doll orchestrated to compliment your mother’s image. You had your own life, but living it didn’t matter. You didn’t win anything if you reached your own dream, since you spent about seventeen years not knowing what they were. All you wanted was your mother’s love and there was hope to get it. As long as you did whatever she asked, her love will be earned.

She ignored you every morning until you came back with a 100 on a test paper or anything equivalent to that. In return you get acknowledgements… of your existence. While your friends thought knowing one’s existence is the least anyone can do when having a parent-child relationship, for you it was a reward.

Though, something changed one time. You remembered when it was the start of Year 1 of Junior High. A woman and her son appeared to apply for the school. Your mother happened to be there to check for that year’s syllabus and the extracurricular lists, a habit that she happened to be obsessed with. When your mother and this one woman saw each other, you swore you never saw two people turn so sour as they saw each other. She approached that woman with you following her, clueless

“What is this, Choi? Stalking my daughter now, is that it?” Her mouth foamed from anger’s toxicity.

“Oh please…” That woman laughed wickedly at your Mum, probably the only person you had seen to ever do that. You were a little impressed for a second.

“Do you think you and your daughter are worth stalking? This school is the best school in the country. I’m pretty sure you admitted her here for the name, not to take advantage of the intelligence the school can put in her head.”

“You need to watch your mouth. One of these days, someone is going to attack you for it.”

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” There was a man with a black shirt with trousers with the most pockets you’ve seen, and a belt with a security stick.

“No… These two might be attacking me, but all they end up doing is tickling me. It’s hilarious. Let’s go, Chanhee.” As the woman and the son left accompanied by the security officer, your mother positioned herself to be in front of you and locked her eyes on yours.

“Listen to me. I don’t give a damn what you have to do, you come home better than the kid, you hear me? If he got 100 in a Math test tomorrow, you come home 100 average in the whole Math course—”

“But why? Who are they?” Your mom leaned to your face with hers that expressed great disgust, as if speechless that a kid cut her words off.

“Should I put your mattress on the porch, Y/N?” The anxiety rose, starting to take your breaths away, choking your throat.

“No, Ma’am.” Your voice broke a little. She corrected her posture in front of you.

“Good. Don’t let me down.” She left you to go to the car.

You didn’t go with her, since you knew she’d be surprised you had the nerve to go to the car with her, when you were supposed to walk to your summer tutoring class. It was not because she didn’t love you enough to drive you there willingly… right?

You joined the sword battle reluctantly, thinking that if you brought a spoon, the battle shouldn’t have to exist within you and him.

But no.

You learned as soon as you took out your hand for him to shake and from the way he just stared at it and didn’t introduce his name, he was bringing his own Excalibur.

It felt like he, too, was with your Mum in this one.

You learned quickly that his name was Choi Chanhee. Your mother applied you to more than the maximum number of extracurricular activities a student can apply for in the school. You were never allowed by your Mum to go back home with a wrinkle on your uniform to show your diligence as a person. No button is off from the collar or loosened messy tie to show potential rebellion phase in puberty age.

You had to show up to school, proving you were the best. All that, when you already were. You just weren’t the best in your mother’s eyes.

Snap!

You’d been a little bit too focused on how you’ve gotten in this chair lately. One minute, you were thirteen, seeing Chanhee for the first time. Next, you were in the present time, seventeen years old in the final year of high school. The kids were exiting the class, talking about the meal they were going to have for brunch. While you just stood there, taking a photographic memory of what was written on the chalkboard.

“Find the centre and vertices of the hyperbola… square root of eleven-X…” You were whispering to yourself, but truth be told, this was what you called anxiety rush.

You were speeding with your terrible handwriting, taking just one question out of the five presented by Ms. Hong, making sure you picked the most difficult one so that you were sure you could solve the other four if you could solve the one you picked.

Done!

You left your seat and went to the back of the classroom, once all the students emptied out the room. There were lockers for students who studied in the room. You opened Locker 18, taking this used vitamin bottle. You stopped to look at the five pills inside: three orange capsules, and two white tablets.

You were running out.

You shut your eyes feeling the guilt of ruining your body as your throat felt the bitter bits. Effects weren’t instant but you could feel the hypersomnia creating bigger sacks of blue eyebags caused by the white Provigil and the plastic-tasted Adderall.

Clang!

Shutting off the locker drawer, you walked to the cafeteria with hands trembling; a usual habit your body owns when you feel like you have sinned. You had to put up the “just-like-any-other-day” face, but deep down? It was… something that shouldn’t have been normal.

Eating with Jacob, Kevin, and Eric was the only thing that made you feel human. There were 3 kids acknowledging that you deserve them and maybe to share stories and food. They were there when you didn’t want the other kids to understand your talks in English.

“So, finals in 2 weeks… wanna study at mine when school’s over?” Kevin suggested.

“Sure!” Jacob smiled gently.

“I’m down. I don’t have a basketball club today.” 

“Sorry. Chess.” The three fell silent whenever the word ‘chess’ came out of your mouth.

They knew what it meant. Duels with Chanhee that always ended up with upset nights and sometimes verbal fights with Chanhee. Mr. Ryu might be impressed how genius both of you are in playing chess, but oh the grey hair that grew out of the teacher’s scalp when you both fought.

Chess came eventually. Mr. Ryu believed competition is the best way to better oneself, which you didn’t agree with entirely. He forgot the harm in self comparison when competition happens, which makes competition ineffective sometimes. His principle resulted in you being paired with Chanhee, since the competition results were too constant. You could have 4 terrific wins, but he would catch up with his own 4 just-as-terrific wins.

So there you were, in front of Chanhee, not even bothered to stare at each other. You placed the black wooden pieces on the chess board. In times like these, where you prepare yourself for extracurricular class, Mr. Ryu hated waiting. Before the class started, Mr. Ryu expected all the pieces to be on top of the board, ready to be played. This resulted in those who were paired together to help out their opposition across the board to put on the chess pieces.

Both of you were petty, though. Things like helping out would never happen.

“Alright, today I want you both to play, the winner will get a higher score by 5 points in their extracurricular grade if you play without using the ‘pawn-centre-square’ method as your first 5 moves, to earn another 2 points. Please start strategizing. The first person to tell me they're ready to play is to play against their opponent, even when the opponent isn’t ready with their own strategy. Then, all of us watch their match. We’ll discuss mistakes and blunders. Today’s focus is about having the upper hand when it comes to strategizing from the beginning. This is what makes a good chess player. Whether or not you can fool your opponent in the beginning to make them fall for your traps. Whether or not your vulnerable moves confuse them enough for them not to capture you when you are at those moves. The lesson lies in your mind games and strategizing skills.” Mr. Ryu explained the task.

“Ready!” You quickly said, not knowing Chanhee said the same thing.

“As usual. All right, gather around kids! Let’s watch the prodigies.” You hid a wince, the word no longer pleasant to hear but only brought heavy pressure on your shoulders.

Chanhee had the white pieces so he moved first. As soon as he placed the pawn in front of his king piece, so did you, but by 2 squares. Then he moved his pawn in front of his knight piece.

“Mistake.” A high-pitched voice exclaimed.

“Nope.” Mr. Ryu replied to the student, which was something you wished you could deny at the time, but you weren’t sure.

You moved your bishop piece to B4, where you can capture a pawn in front of the queen. He moved his knight to F3, which confused you.

“Uh… Mistake?” Someone hesitantly said, while you deep down thought it wasn’t. It was more of a move that could make or break a long-game takeover plan, which you had to figure out by now.

You moved your bishop from B4 to get rid of the pawn Chanhee had on D2, the one that was in front of his queen, making a check on his king.

“Check!” You said.

“Doesn’t mean anything if your strategy is too easy to figure out and your mind is too vulnerable to be read. Chanhee has the upper hand from the beginning.” Just from Mr. Ryu’s words…. you got a déjà vu.

Snap! You’d been a little bit too focused on how you’ve gotten in this chair lately— Clang! Shutting off the locker drawer, you walked to the cafeteria with hands trembling; a usual habit—

“Blunder…” You whispered as your eyes widened at your bishop’s position.

“What were you thinking, Dollie?” Mr. Ryu asked, gently.

You checked the class calendar. It was Wednesday. You had Chess. You had to be at your best when you go against Chanhee. You shouldn’t had taken those pills. What is happening?

“Continue, Chanhee…” Mr. Ryu said. It was obvious what Chanhee’s next move was.

His queen captured your bishop…. You didn’t know what to do. You had to go back to one of your pawns and let them do their frontline jobs. You moved the pawn in front of the queen also by 2 squares to the front.

“Extra 2 points coupon is no longer valid, because you used the ‘pawn-centre-square’ method on the 4th move.” Now all you were was a prodigy who just lost their intelligence and dignity because of 2 wooden chess pieces.

You could feel your brain tightened and loosened in the pace of your elevated heartbeat. Pounding. Soon enough, the bell rang, you looked behind you, but then the students were bewildered as they shot their stares onto you. The ringing lost its vibrations and turned into a flatlining machine sound. You could feel your neck getting hot and sweating, even when it was a chilly autumn day.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Mr. Ryu asked.

Gravity was pulling you down to the ground. You knew the floor wasn’t going to be a cushion, but you couldn’t fight where your body wanted to take you. So you closed your eyes as you felt heavy, landing on the wooden floor, not even fighting yourself.

“Y/N!” The last sound coming out of a student’s voice before the world distorted in your eyes and the shadows of unconsciousness dimmed the lights in your body, putting you to sleep.

Even in your dreams, everything was pitch black. You realised your body grew tired of this competition. You realised the girl who used all of her to beat one boy for the sake of proving her worth to her mother is gone. The body that gave up its night time sleep for the sake of one more Chemistry homeworks, the hand that wrote Trigonometry formulas faster than anybody, and the eyes that had determination to follow words in Literature books from left to right so rapidly, the ears that listen to Economy lecture finally grew tired of the words like ‘stocks’ and ‘values’.

You woke up in the first aid room, vision spinning as if you were the centre of the universe, motion blurring as you felt like your brain in the clouds, floating and light, but pounding along with the drum of your heartbeat.

Your mother was there, fighting with your school’s principal and the school’s nurse. The tension and the noise only added to the pain on your head. You grunted, catching the attention of the three fighting adults.

“Let's go.” Your mother gave an unreadable, cold tone.

You knee what your worst fear was, but you didn’t know what it felt like. For years, you avoided it by scoring 4.0 GPA for every year, being the top student, even going to an intelligence-measuring war with a boy. So now that it was happening, you lost the abilities to do all of those. You lost the one thing you needed in order to be your mother’s daughter: your mind.

“Mum—”

“Shut your mouth. Follow me home.” Your mother turned around and walked, not even looking back knowing she got you wrapped around her finger in the name of fear.

The principal and the nurse looked down on the floor, surrendering too. You got off the creaky bed, vision still spinning. Grabbing your heavy backpack, you felt your legs couldn’t even strengthen themselves for you to walk properly. You saw a digital clock that displayed the day of the week: FRI, 09:18 AM. Okay, what the hell? Despite the bewilderment, you ran after your mother with those weak legs and shifting centre of gravity.

“Mum, please wait—” You fell on the wooden floor of the locker hallway.

Just in time, the kids in school were exiting from every door to the hallway. It was break time and every student could see the commotion of you on the ground. Your mother spun to face you and approached.  She lifted her right shoe, bringing your jaw up. It was probably the most gentle, yet the most humiliating action she had ever done to you. Most students locked their curious gaze on you and froze in their place, gasping and murmuring.

“You’re not my kid.”

These four syllables rolled easily and clearly from her mouth. She wore this expression that somehow showed the whole school that if you ever claim her your mother… it would be humiliating to her.

You looked around, faces of pity were on you like creepy clowns haunting kids from afar, except this time in a large volume.

However… you caught him right there. Black hair, pale skin, small face, gentle soft features. It was the first time you saw him wearing a shocked and empathetic expression.

You hated it.

You were at the rock bottom, but you were being pulled away to Mariana Trench where you wouldn’t ever come back. You failed so much that your enemy had chosen to give you empathy. You failed so much that your mother was disowning you in a commotion with everyone’s eyes on the both of you as if she was setting a good example.

You were ruined… Who do you live for, now?

Who do you fight Chanhee for, now? Who do you get good grades for, now? All these questions had no answer, but one thing you knew certainly was… the person you fought everything for… never fought for you.

Maybe that was why this public disowning act felt like a tight chain busting from your chest. You were finally breathing… and free.

She turned around and walked away. You slowly got up and stood where you were. Letting the backpack slip away from your arms, you looked at her back once more.

“HARGH!” You roared, throwing the bag to her back.

She turned around in disbelief, eyes wide at yours, frozen in place.

“And you were never a mother! Let alone mine!” Your throat tightened as you shouted.

You shook your head slowly, tears flowing on your cheeks. It felt your ribs were imploding and tightening your heart.

“How could a mother make her child treat home like a shop for love and the child has to pay with good grades as currency? How could a mother tell her child to beat her competitor’s son by making sure the child goes to school solely for that purpose? As if the child is nothing but a soldier to deploy for war that she never caused!” Your throat hurt as you screamed, expressing to the world how much pain you went through.

A warm tear slipped on your cheek. You usually felt embarrassed to even tremble in front of everybody, but this time ‘care’ was no longer present. Your mother bit the insides of her cheeks, eyes widening in rage, fists clenching.

“Will you even love me if I’m not smart?” You choked, waterfall streaming from your eyes to your jaw.

“Y/N, don’t bring up love. I loved you enough to put up with you. You just don’t respect me enough to come back home and repay it. I hope you know it’s equal to unrequited mother-daughter love.” She walked away once more.

It was then you knew you weren’t welcomed home anymore. Yet, the feeling evoked after knowing so was like a liberty given to a pet on a leash. It was like… the world was really your oyster now and you knew there were going to be pearls.

You looked around once more, locking your eyes with Choi Chanhee. Why were there… tears on his cheeks?

“Hey… We can stay with you at Jacob’s house tonight…” Kevin held your shoulders as Eric and Jacob surrounded you, shielding you from the sharp pierces of pity gazes.

The night passed with your friends, trying hard to lift your mood up. It was only then they realised after your body was glued to the spare bed Jacob had for about 3 hours, that this was more than a mood downhill. This was a life downhill. They realised that as much as they were your friends since forever, they could never understand the pressure of impressing for the sake of receiving, supposedly, mandatory parental love.

That was how they came into Jacob’s bedroom with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s for each person. Eric gave your favourite pint of flavour, while sitting on the lower bunk bed across the bunk bed you occupied. Jacob and Kevin hiked up the top, scooping the cold dessert.

“Spill your thoughts, girlie.” Kevin said.

You sat up, throat bubbling with groans.

“You all saw what happened…”

“No, we don’t mean that one.” Jacob gently responded as he scooped his own spoonful of ice cream.

“Yeah… we meant the Chess class on Wednesday until this morning. How come you blacked-out for two days?” Eric’s eyes were a pair that thought there was something fun or dramatic to know about.

“I’ve been… using medications to stay awake and study.” The revelation shocked the three boys in front of you.

“...Do..." Kevin hesitated. "Do you need help?”

Opening the pint, you scooped up your favourite flavour. That was when you saw that happiness lost its definition. It was as if seeing black and white in a world full of rainbows. Tasting the neutrality of water in a world full of Ben and Jerry’s and cakes. You lived for a baseless baseline until it went flatline.

“...Yeah. I think I do.” Tears started streaming.

For four months, with the help of your Anglophone friends, you were progressing in tapering off. Staying under the Bae family’s roof, you somehow became the little sister that they adopted. Your mother never reported it as kidnapping whatsoever. Though it looked like her new journal paper that talked about the theory of time became a good expression of her anger towards you.

But during those four months, you quitted something else other than your overproductivity pills: Choi Chanhee. You left every club where Chanhee was in. Never again did you challenge Chanhee in every teacher’s question.

But it seemed like Chanhee was the one experiencing withdrawal because of it. He was the one with tears as the school ended. He was the one who couldn’t chew his food in the canteen.

Another rising sun for this old Earth, you were early in school, playing chess on your own. For once chess wasn’t something to dread, but something fun just like the purpose of a game should be. But soon, the door behind you creaked. You looked behind you and saw a surprised Chanhee.

This was weird. You had unleashed yourself from academic pressure that shouldn’t exist and you took liberty for yourself, but somehow it made your relationship with Chanhee strange, but you couldn’t point where.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” You felt curiosity tilting your head.

“What do you mean?” Chanhee walked to the chair in front of you and sat.

“Apparently, we don’t know each other at all. Despite making each other our mission to finish when we wake up and go to school… we don’t know anything about each other.” He was right.

Maybe that was the point where it was weird.

You nodded slowly, but also indicated for him to keep talking.

“... I’m like you, you know…” Chanhee tidied the pieces you finished playing with.

“I go home, telling my mother the bounty-hunting result— if you will. Then, I get my cash. Wasn’t like other kids who love seeing dead presidents on coloured paper. Just want the invisible warmth of a recognition coming from one woman.” Chanhee then put the pieces on the chess board, according to their places; his side was the white one.

“But… why? Education got me far enough to tell me that nobody should live to serve a person that deeply. I get it, you know… I’m a child. I need her love, her attention— The things that a juvenile inmate lacks from a mother, I need it. But… from a woman who expects me to be good first?” Chanhee looked up to your eyes.

“Why…” He disguised his cracked voice with a whisper.

“But just so you know… without you, I lost something too.” Chanhee cleared his throat after whispering those words.

“We don’t know each other, yet after freeing ourselves from Mommy… we end up freeing ourselves from each other…. when we don’t even know each other.” Chanhee placed one of his pawns forward that blocked his queen, two squares in front.

“When we don’t even know ourselves…” He placed yours that blocked your king, also two squares, now adjacent to his that he moved.

“.... because we were so lost…” His pawn knocked yours down, making it lie horizontal on the board.

Then, he took his queen and placed it beside his pawn that he used.

“....in impressing our little queen.”

The sight of the three pieces in the centre of the board resembled her life… and apparently his as well. A queen mother tall and enjoying the sight of the knocked down enemy with her pawn.

“We forget that life had other pieces and that we were in control. That we played the pieces and we were not the pieces itself. When you’re not the pawn, the game goes on because the player doesn’t die. We forget that though life is not a game— just like chess sometimes may not just be a game, it may be a career or a hobby to invest in— we can still be supportive of one another during checkmate.” Chanhee looked at you once more.

“We were so lost in the wrong war… that all we know of is the ugliness— the desperation of wanting to live on and in war like these… especially like our pawn…. you play with your life. We were so lost that I only know your violence… but once that war is done…. I don’t know who you are behind that galea.”

Chanhee leaned back to his seat then watched the birds during the spring sunrise.

“I lost my purpose in life because of that. And my Mum is getting busier. She gets even more jealous with your mother with that new theory of time paper. These days, I don’t come here to earn her love anymore. And it seems like you don’t want to be in this war. And you know what? I get it… It’s peaceful… No more war…” Chanhee turned his head to you.

“It’s not worth it… Not worth getting stressed out for… My Mum’s love I mean…” Chanhee lent out his hand for a handshake.

“So again…. Now that the war's over... Toss that galea away like a graduation cap. Let's get to know each other... Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Somehow, that was the most peaceful speech you ever heard. It felt like forgiveness by the gods and now your life would be a bit easier. You no longer had to wonder why won’t we work out, even as friends?

You smiled and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you too, Chanhee.”

[yanderes-galore]

OKAY!

Queue is going to be unpaused tomorrow, you'll end up getting content until... maybe November 3rd?

I'm going to try and take a small break from writing until then, but who knows, knowing me I'll probably start writing again three days in. It's one of my biggest hobbies, after all. Even if I feel my content is getting stale due to me not wanting to get OOC....

So... You may still sends asks and constructive feedback, nothing much is going to change on your end but I thought I'd say something so those who check current drafts often won't panic when nothing changes.

So I'll still be here! Just taking a three-ish day break? Maybe I can catch up on shows and books to occupy myself, lol.

Sometimes I wonder if I should make a Discord group to help with editing and ideas, but at the same time, I don't want to monitor it if people start to attack one another or something. Idk, thought of this for like a year now, but I do not know much about Discord servers NGL. (Despite the fact I've had my account for years now?)

[yoki-doki-then]

FFXIV Write 2024 - T W O H E A D S A R E B E T T E R T H A N O N E

“Hey, Aika?”

“Yes, Yoki?”

“Do you think they're actually... dead? My parents? My brother?”

Two Lalafells sit under the evening sky, decorum and their rift of status discarded under the watch of the stars and moon above. Ul'dah's night life quiets near their restaurant, both clad in more pedestrian garments than their norm. It's incognito, in way. The world breezes past them, ignorant to their deeper stories.

“In all technical and probable likelihood, Yoki, they are dead.”

“... But do you think they are?”

“No.” Aika speaks before her mind can catch her heart, and she swallows hard. Her fingers twitch near the collar of her dress, looking for something to claw at, but she stills her digits. “I do not,” she reinforces eventually. “It wouldn't make sense?”

“Dramatically speaking, it does. We are... 'were' a rather tumultuous family. It's kinda hard to find the good notes hidden in discord. I remember some. But a lot of it was drama. The silent kind of drama that slowly out from inside holes. 'You didn't notice me when you started this', it's gonna whisper as it eats a rib, 'and now you'll regret it'. That kinda drama.”

“You are wonderfully melancholic, Yoki,” says Aika with a loving sigh. “But, no. I don't think they are.”

“Why not?”

“I saw the family's drama too. I've lived through it. But I've also seen the kindnesses they've shared. The pain. The... well, pleasure. I think it's more complicated than just a sweeping 'they were bad'. Even if some parts were certainly ill.”

“All it takes is a weakness for the Final Days to steal your soul, to my understanding.”

“Maybe. But they are not weak people. They're less stubborn than you, but fight hard for second place.”

The younger woman giggles a touch. “I'd like to hope so.”

“Don't just hope. Keep surviving. Thrive. Eventually, I'm sure the chance will come for you to reconnect with them, wherever they might be.”

“You too, right?”

“... Pardon?”

“Aika. I know we have this sorta-weird relationship of money going between us, but I do like to think of you as... I don't really know the word. You're a part of my world.”

“... I appreciate that, Yoki. I do.”

“I've another adventure to go on. It's something... I don't really know what it's about yet. But I'm setting out for an airship tomorrow to meet with a bunch of others. I hope it goes well. When it's over and I come back, do you think you could help me look for my family? I want this to end. I want proof, or I want them in my arms.”

Aika looks down at her lap. Her palms tingle, and she rubs them together to try to fight back the nerves. “I would like to do that. I will. There's things I know I've kept to myself, I suppose. Out of care. You understand, I hope? I-”

“I understand. Well, I don't, but I demand myself to understand.” “Pfeh.” Aika's laugh, despite all her normal airs of decorum, was always her most undignified trait. It rumbled in her throat and bubbled to the back of her mouth, coming mostly through her nose. When she recovers, she continues. “I'll be open about anything you ask, and even things you wouldn't. I want my life to start its next chapter as well.”

“... Then here's to a good adventure for me, and a fine tomorrow for us.”

Yoki's sister smiles and picks up her glass on the table. It's empty, long-since drained, but she feels the bounty of grapes in it regardless. “Here's to.” She sips air.

It's delicious.

[mrmcwigglyman]

A letter to E-Sekai

Rare semi-serious post because E-Sekai's first anniversary is tomorrow.

Hopefully this breaches Tumblr containment because I don't use any other social media.

When E-Sekai first debuted, I was at a really bad time in my life. For context, I went to college in late August, and for two months, I was slowly destroying my mental health because I wanted to stay, but couldn't handle it. I continued to sink deeper and deeper into depression until my mom came to take me home in late October. During the first months of my return, I was so dejected that I didn't want to do anything. I wasted all my time doing unproductive things on the computer, relying on it for comfort. My parents intervened and restricted access to my computer. Without my computer for comfort, I turned to watching VTubers on my phone, to the point of staying up all night trying to distract myself from the sadness of having to leave college. It was really unhealthy and non-sustainable, but I couldn't get myself to do anything else.

Almost exactly one month later, I found a debut compilation for Idol-EN's first generation, called E-Sekai. I was immediately interested, so I found their channels and subscribed to all of them. I especially liked Rin, for various reasons which I'll get to later, but I enjoyed watching everyone. Their streams got me to come out of my shell online. Before E-Sekai, I didn't use the YouTube account on my phone for chatting or commenting at all, because I didn't have a channel linked to it, but E-Sekai convinced me to make a channel so I could chat. One of the things about small to medium-sized VTuber agencies is that the streamers are more likely to see your comment as an individual. Whenever I got someone to laugh with one of my jokes, it made my day. E-Sekai made me want to be creative again. They got me through the grueling late nights of working at my coat check job. And they helped me try to get out of my depression. I actually know and interact with people on the Idol discord, and I discovered a lot more VTuber agencies because Idol gave me confidence to chat in many other VTubers' chats.

My life is still not perfect. I'm really anxious about any sort of change to my routine, such as getting a normal job, and I need to get better at taking care of myself. But E-Sekai and Idol in general still brings a lot of happiness to my life.

I want to take the rest of this post to say how each individual member of E-Sekai contributed to my life, and the group as a whole. I'm not good at writing these kinds of things, and I'm probably missing a bunch of what makes them all so fun to watch, but I hope this captures them well enough.

Yuko: The scream from her debut was ear-piercingly beautiful. Her hyperactive personality leads to incredibly fun moments. I'm still amazed by how much she loves her boo bros. She's the perfect blend of lewd, wholesome, and silly. In one of her karaoke streams, she got me to listen to the entirety of "A Little Piece of Heaven", which is my least favorite A7X song. Keep being the most neurodivergent in E-Sekai, Yuko! Wanau :boobropout:

Juna: The eel's art and Live2D streams were super comfy, but also very cursed. I celebrated New Year's along with her, and I still have the art she made for it somewhere. Juna's streams got me through the early parts of my coat check shifts. I love all the inside jokes the fameely has, such as "good riddance", "LIVID", banning Yogurt, and Golden Shower. And speaking of the fameely, they're the friendliest people in the Discord server, and I love to talk to them. Juna actually responded to my comments a lot, which boosted my confidence a lot. Also, one of my favorite moments was during the Seiso Stream when I tried to catch her off guard by asking her to pronounce "Featherstonhaugh." Always remember that it rhymes with "hand saw." Stay LIVID, Juna, and thanks for all the completely sane streams so far.

Rin: Rin is the one that I instantly identified with. She loves making silly powerpoints. She has a very particular taste in video games that I can never find anywhere else. Even before she mentioned she was ace, I could tell she was ace-coded. She has an incredibly broken sense of humor. The first (and currently only) VTuber merch I've ever bought was the skrunkly plush. And I don't really believe in fate, but I had to admit that there was one coincidence that was very convincing. While watching her debut slides, when she was introducing some of her plushies, I learned that I have a very personal connection to the name of one of her plushies. Her streams are incredibly creative and fun. Her powerpoint streams and skit streams are the funniest content I've seen in a long time. Her reactions to things that wouldn't normally be funny makes them funny, which is part of the reason I love the shovelware series so much. I can tell she works so hard behind the scenes to make all those things happen. Even though after the Shortsening her chat is sometimes unbearable to look at, I'm glad that she is a lot of people's first VTuber. I'm proud to call Rin my kami-oshi. Fun fact: The B emoji in my YouTube username, although I've used it before Idol, was specifically chosen for Rin, except now that the emoji is banned in her chat, I can't actually send my membership milestone chats because according to YouTube logic, my username counts as part of the superchat?? I'll probably change it to a small capital B instead someday. Anyway, Rin, I'm glad to be a member of the Princedom, and I'm so happy that you are able to reach so many people. Also, congrats for keeping up the Rin facts for a YEAR! *metal_pipe.mp3* *outro music*

Pochi: Pochi is an absolute gamer. The fact that she doesn't rage very often leads to some very comfy streams, even in frustrating games. She also does some cool themed zatsus, like the pet peeves stream. I enjoy her Minecraft streams a lot, and I actually got back into modded Minecraft because of her. Her redebut was so good and so creative, and I just think her "hello, I am puppy" t-shirt is hilarious. I often leave her streams on in the background because she is just so comfy. Keep doing what you're doing, Pochi! Wäf wäf!

Fuyo: One early series of streams that I enjoyed was Fuyo's Bioshock playthrough. Normally I don't like those kinds of games, but it was actually really interesting. I also remember watching her VTuber cosplay stream while waiting for a doctors appointment that I showed up an hour early for. I still don't know she got away with some of the games she played in the first week after debut. When I was waking up late because I was staying up late, Fuyo streams were what helped me wake up and get out of bed. Also I think I left the Nyan Cat stream on while I slept, which may or may not have been detrimental to my musical health. I look forward to the future, and I hope you are, too, Fuyo. Thank you for giving back my physical wallet, even if you kept the stuff inside.

I'm awful at wording things, but I really wanna thank E-Sekai for helping me out of a deep hole in my life. I know this is probably not gonna get more notes than my fucking Papa Louie Veggie Dog post, but on the offchance this reaches one or all of you... idk I'm all out of words, but I'm looking forward to another year of E-Sekai antics.

I also want to thank the rest of Idol for being just as awesome!

[archaeren]

Hi Ren,

it's lavenderlight over from ao3!

I'm crossing my fingers that the infamous tumblr-ask-box-situation won't swallow my message! xD

I hope I'm not overstepping (and I don't expect a reply) but I just thought I'd check in - I know you've got discord but I don't think I have the spoons currently to make an account lol

So, good old tumblr it is :D

Anyway - I wanted to wish you happy holidays and let you know that I've been thinking of you (and your depiction of Chui ( 〃▽〃) ) and that LC:LS meant quite a lot to me over the past year - and continues to mean a lot to me.

Honestly, I keep thinking (constantly!!) about all of the chapters so far, imagining how the story might unfold in the future -

So, yeah. I hope you're doing alright and I'll look forward to any possible updates!! <3

Wishing you nice company, a warm blanket and a hot drink of your choice for the holidays!!

OMG hello!! You're not overstepping at all, this is so sweet aaaaa!! <3 <3 <3 I don't know how to say that it means a lot to me that the story matters to you so much. I look forward to your comments on every chapter SO MUCH, they're so thorough and thoughtful, every one of them is like a little gift. I'm so curious what other kinds of things you find yourself thinking about the chapters so far and the ones that have yet to come! It really does mean a lot to know someone else is thinking about it so much. It's a rarepair--the number of English language authors including the migikisa ship at all (let alone focusing on it) can be counted on one hand!--in a tiny fandom. (Someone recently asked me about how many longfics were in the Eng JJ fandom and I was able to rattle off all their titles and author names... because there are only three of them, and one of them is mine. XD) In such a niche pairing, it's easy to feel lonely, especially as one of the sole creators for it. You can't help but wonder sometimes if other people think you're weird or even annoying for being so invested. It can feel isolating. So for someone to say it means that much to them... it's really validating. <3 I got a bit sidetracked lately by doing fanart instead of writing, which is most of why I haven't updated recently. The art brain has a stranglehold on the writing brain! (I started writing again on Friday so I could update on Sunday and then on Saturday I was gripped by the drive to draw Chui as a character from Cult of the Lamb and that consumed my entire weekend... oops.) Actually, you're the one that inspired that art shift. It was that comment you left on Chapter 14, where you mentioned reading a quote that said, “People hate their own art because it looks like they made it. They think if they get better, it will stop looking like they made it. A better person made it. But there’s no level of skill beyond which you stop being you. You hate the most valuable thing about your art.” I thought about that a lot after you said it and it really changed my perspective on my own art. I draw more now than I have in years, and I usually even like what I draw! Even though I can still see its flaws and still see my own influence on it, I've really made a lot of peace with that. It's been really eye-opening and empowering. I really want to get an LC:LS update out today or tomorrow because we're finally hitting the winter performance and the timeline of coinciding with IRL Christmas is just too good. I wish I could post one today and one tomorrow for the timing but I'm not sure I'll have time to finish them both and I'm not sure people would have time to read them anyway! I will probably content myself with one. XD Anyway, if you ever do decide to make a discord I would love to talk more! You can also just lurk in the server that's linked on LC:LS, though I feel like you would be a great addition to the culture c: Thank you so much again for messaging and I hope you have a wonderful holiday (with a few moments to spare for thinking Chui thoughts! I know I will be, hehe <3 )

[alexandia03]

Tell me about...

Bitter are the wars between brothers

Okay, I was actually waiting for someone to ask about this one and now I am thinking how to talk about it without giving too many spoilers (I am the kind that tells you the entire planned plot when asked because I am that excited).

Basically, Bitter are the wars between brothers is the only semi-complete snippet I wrote so far (like it has 10 pages so far) and it focuses on the main conflict of the second part of Memento Vivere (when I finally get to the IF events), namely Xaden's fallout with his inner circle after a series of mistakes and neglect. RY never talked about how Xaden's friends might feel after he becomes obsessed with Violet and it angered me a little to see that Bodhi had to return to Basgiath with a broken arm (and suffered for months from it) when Brennan was basically there and could have mended him had he and Xaden not decided that saving his energy in case Violet needed something else was more important.

And because the people on the discord server already have access to it, why not give you a little sneak-peak?

“The bones healed wrong after the battle of Resson…” Brennan begins and I bite my tongue not to scoff. Yes, that much we already knew... Anyone with eyes could tell as much. Well, most of us, at least, judging by the bewildered look on Xaden's face, as if he just found out his favorite puppy died. “… so in that regard, the fall was rather fortunate if you want to see it that way, because it reopened the wound and once he regains enough energy for it, I should be able to properly put the bones back in place. Tomorrow, most likely. The mending today took a big toll on him.” And on Brennan himself, I complete in my mind with a scowl. Garrick frowns, his grip on my hand tightening almost to the point it hurts, but I know it is unconscious – and it actually gives me something else to focus on aside from the boiling rage in my chest. “Fortunate? You mean to tell me he lived with a broken arm… for six months?!” He all but shouts, his voice taking a dangerous tone as his hazel eyes moved between Brennan and Xaden, finally understanding why it was so easy for Bodhi to fall off Cuir, why he was favoring his left side. “How could you let it happen?” “Of course, we never meant to put Bodhi in such a position, but after Resson, we had to chance his fracture healing on its own as there were more pressing…” Brennan starts explaining and there is a slight grimace on his face, a prang of guilt. But I came to understand there is a difference between guilt and remorse. “Wait!” Garrick cuts in, his eyes widening even more, but his attention is now solely on Xaden who is uncharacteristically quiet. “You knew his arm was in such a bad condition?” Xaden doesn’t even look at Garrick as he opens his mouth to answer, keeping his eyes on Brennan instead. “You never told me the wound was that serious… You said it would heal in time and there would be no issues. Had I known…”

Or maybe two sneak-peaks because I am feeling generous <3

Anger. And it is pointed towards me like an arrow aimed to pierce my heart. “Fucking traitor. I guess I should have seen this coming.” Traitor? Traitor?! He can’t possibly be talking to me, right? He is probably talking to Brennan after he stopped him… – Fuck it! Who am I freaking trying to fool? He is talking to me and I can’t even lie to myself and say that I didn’t see this coming. “What did you just call me?” I growl, my hand itching to wrap around the hilt of my dagger, but I resist the urge. No, I won’t resort to violence, it’s not the moment and it certainly isn’t worth it. At least not yet. The bastard has the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes at me. “Drop the act. You have been sneaking between me and Bodhi for years trying to push him away from me. It ends today, Imogen. Gods, I can’t believe I have been so blind until now… it’s my fault I allowed this situation to get so far.” “Oh, you are at fault here for a lot, but like always it is easier to blabber about shit than to take responsibility for your fuck ups. You want to pin it on me now that you saw you can’t do it to Brennan? Be my guest, but I can’t take credit for how much you fucked things up with Bodhi, that is all you, asshole.” I bite back, that bit of patience and restraint I was holding on to up to this point finally snapping. Gods, this is truly not the moment for this, for any of this. This is not the time for this stupid argument, not now and certainly not in here, while Bodhi is in pain in the next room. It is not like Xaden will actually listen to logic either, so it is pointless anyway. So I do the only rational thing I can do right now – I turn with the intention of going to Bodhi’s room. “Oh, the fuck you are! I am not letting you anywhere near him to poison his mind with all this vitriol you have against me! Leave him alone, Imogen, I mean it!” Xaden all but yells, shadows extending to form some sort of wall to the door.

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Welp I did it y'all, I met half of the main BG3 cast! Everyone was super kind of course, very chill too. Lines weren't bad at all, probably because it was an anime con? Which is great planning on my part haha. The longest line for me was Neil's (ofc), at only 1 hr and a few minutes to wait

Here's what I got signed:

I have to admit I was hella nervous and wasn't planning to see them on Day 1 when I was jetlagged and not super made up, but we finally mustered up the courage to talk to them starting with Lae'zel's VA Devora Wilde. Dev loved my partner's nails and recognized the leather underwear lol, she was like ":O is that her thingy--!?". She also gave us very British compliments when we first walked up (which I can't remember what it was now ofc), and I was like "you too! You look amazing!" And she really did, from what I can tell she always is very gorg and glam <3 She was like 🥺 when she saw our prints. She looked at them for a bit, admiring the prints, and asked if this was the scene at the end where she leaves on the dragon and I said "yeah, this was the scene where your acting as Lae'zel made me cry in my game!" which I think she was flattered by, and my partner mentioned that in their game their character was a githyanki who went with Lae'zel, and I think Dev realized that was the "bad ending" and made a jokingly horrified face haha. Anyway she seemed very touched by our interaction and called us "true Lae'zel fans" 💞 I think it went really well and she probably doesn't get many people who are really into Lae'zel coming up to chat, so it was probably a nice change of pace

Next we saw Theo, who was telling a story to the guy in front of me so I heard it too, which was about how he already knew the VA for Mizora, Tammy, so one day he was going to the studio to record, said hi to her, asked her who she was playing and she pointed to Mizora behind Wyll on the poster so he was like "wait, no. You're my enemy!?" Anyway he was super chill, we chatted about the con a bit. Theo was also very impressed and told me I had "the best hair" at the con when he saw me haha. He said it'll be jam packed tomorrow (Saturday), but I think since the venue was so large it wasn't too bad by then. When I showed him my print from my game he was like "Spoiler! I haven't gotten here yet!" and I was like "oops!" and we joked about spoiling it for him, but he wasn't being serious, and said he can't wait to get there, noting how Karlach and Wyll make a cute couple. I was like "you record lines out of order, yeah?" and he confirmed, talking about how sometimes he'll hear a line Wyll says and he doesn't remember saying it, but I mean, clearly he did haha. Anyway he was super relatable and easy to talk to, really enjoyed chatting with him and I look forward to popping into his streams.

Jennifer and Aliona were very sweet, Jen of course commented on my hair too, and I think Aliona walked away for a min to grab a snack cause Jen grabbed a quick bite of something and apologized to me right after, sheepishly noting that they don't get breaks ��� but it was totally fine and I was patient & understood. I was only having Jennifer sign because it was getting expensive 😬 so it was also no biggie that Aliona used that opportunity to take a break. I complimented Jen's nails, which were a super cute blue and pink with sparkles pattern, and apparently it was an Arcane reference? She asked me if I'd seen it, I told her "no, it's on my list," but she was like "oh, it's really good you've got to see it!" then as we said our goodbyes she was like "promise me you'll watch it - Shadowheart demands you watch it!" lol so I guess I'll watch sooner rather than later haha.

I chatted a bit with someone before I got to Neil, I believe it was Blue from his streams/discord? Which I have been hesitant to watch or participate in to avoid ruining my BG3 immersion, but I will now since honestly they all seem like normal people and are nothing like their characters imo. It'd be weird to hear the "character voice" saying too much OOC haha. Anyway Blue was very nice, asking about my Tav while we waited and impressed by the handmade Darkmoons earrings I was wearing which were the same as my Tav's 💖

Neil was very sweet; I walked up and he was like "wow, your hair," and I complimented him on his nails, which were like a pretty black/silver/blue? color, and he seemed genuinely flattered (idk anymore, all of it was a blur - I imagine most dudes don't get nail compliments so I like to give em out when I see it). He saw my print and was like "oh I see it's true love then" lol and I was like "yeahhhh" and mentioned that Astarion was my favorite. He asked what we were writing and I said "it's time to try living again" to which he responded "that's a good one." I also told him that I've played for 1400 hours and he was shocked, he was like "1400?" And I elaborated saying since Feb I've played it in like all of my free time when not working and he was still very shocked, like "since feburary!?" I was like "I know, I'm crazy" lol. But I told him thank you for all his hard work and that I use freecam to zoom out and see all his mocap, which was so well done, and he was very appreciative of that. He seemed pretty tired and jetlagged himself, stretching before the pic, and very sincerely respectfully asked me if it was okay to put his arm around me for it, which of course it was. We did a selfie and it's probs obvious I was nervous but I tried to relax and look natural for the pic (the attendant takes it so.. not really a selfie but whatevs). I saw him giving hugs before it was my turn, so as he was about to say bye I asked him for one and he agreed. I said afterwards to him "you're so nice!" And he did his usual peace/bow before turning to the next person in line. Also, I was still so short next to him even in my 4in heels, he literally had to bend down to hug me 😭

Orin's VA was there and I considered meeting Maggie too, but I didn't realize she'd be there until the last min before my trip and I felt weird about going up to say hi without buying anything 😭 I could have gotten an art print I suppose? But as I said, it was getting expensive, and I wasn't familiar with Lady Dimitrescu outside of memes

I did have a strong temptation to go back and chitchat if their lines were empty, but I felt weird about doing that without paying for something cause like, it's probably a bit of a faux pax right? Just seemed like it might be awkward even though it would be fun to discuss what their process was or what it was like to record and do mocap etc etc

Anyway on Saturday I wore my Tav eye makeup and we saw the BG3 panel, which was mostly silly and not very informative, but I guess after a year of doing these they've gotten a bit more chaotic haha

There was also a Baldur's Gate 3 themed photoshoot area that we took pics in front of, and Sungwon Cho, ProZD was also there, so we went up to say hi and let him know that we love his comedy and quote several of his skits almost daily. He was like "I'm honored" and asked us if we wanted a pic, which of course we did. I felt a little bad that I didn't know his actual VA work that well since I'm guessing he'd prefer that, but what do I know 😅

Anyway all in all a good time! Not bad for the first con in 15 years, maybe I'll go to another one if the cast comes to the SF bay area or if Gale and Karlach's or any of the extended cast come to Norcal

[woodswolf]

anyway im going to make some minor changes to existing chapters of DLD. im going to make a point to differentiate between the Hocotate and Hokotate pronunciations in-text since that's actually kinda really important and informs a lot about where olimar and various characters come from.

i don't think ive said this before anywhere (at least outside of DMs with my partner/ideas ducky), but the TL;DR is that both the "american" and japanese pronunciations of Hocotate/Hokotate are kind of an important background detail that inform how i see the pikmin universe Working in DLD. Hocotate ("american" pronunciation, "hawk-a-tate", rhymes with Freight) is the "standard" pronunciation across the galaxy while Hokotate (japanese pronunciation, "hoh-koh-tah-tay") is how Hokotate natives would refer to it. and this like, really really informs a lot of characterizations.

the ship for instance always pronounces it as Hocotate because it literally wouldn't know any better and nobody's ever said otherwise because it works well enough for an interplanetary business setting.

olimar also pronounces it as Hocotate unless he's specifically in a situation where everyone involved would Know to pronounce it Hokotate. however, he Thinks of it as Hokotate except in the context of Hocotate Freight.

the president is obviously from Hokotate but intentionally always pronounces it Hocotate and obviously named his company Hocotate Freight.

lamella would always pronounce it Hokotate which might make some characters (i.e. basically anyone who isn't from Hokotate) kinda 🤨 at her.

etc. like these are 4 very different outlooks that imply a lot of very different things about each of the characters.

also to be clear, Hocotatian is the "standard galactic" name for people from Hocotate. if asked by anyone Familiar With The Hokotate Distinction, though, they'd call themselves Hokotateno. but some people (such as olimar, aka Mister Nuance) would naturally have a conditional answer depending on who was asking and why.

in case anyone can't tell from the tone of this post, a lot of the reasons for this relate to some of the background lore of this universe that ive alluded to both in-text and in comment replies. i don't think it's ever going to come up explicitly in-text (so far it's mostly just been alluded to in things such as Hokotate's socioeconomics as olimar ranted about in chapter 2), but in DLD Hokotate has a history of Being Colonized and exploited for resources which can pretty clearly reframe a lot of those attitudes mentioned above if you didn't get the vibe already. it just hugely informs characterization so i think it's a change that's important to make sooner than later (even if it's mostly going to be relevant in much later entries once we start getting people Not From Hokotate involved in a major way, e.g. the Koppaites).

also blah blah blah everyone is technically speaking different languages but something something universal translators are standard features or something. i can have my really nuanced worldbuilding AND handwave things. if you're going to get mad at me about handwaving stuff though id like to introduce you to a cool game called Pikmin 4 which definitely does not handwave 90% of its plot and is 100% internally consistent all the time.

anyway ill probably make these changes tomorrow night or something. all im really gonna do is change 13 instances of spelling (the other 9 are going to remain unchanged as either part of "Hocotate Freight" or one instance in dialogue) but i can't be bothered tonight lol. i also might rewrite this post to actually use sentence case etc. since it'll be an important reference post to link in the chapter 1 author's note after making this change but i just expanded this from a discord message lmao

[romaine2424]

Daily Blog June 27, 2023

Arg! I'd hoped to spend sometime planting the pretty flowers I bought yesterday but to my dismay I discovered an invasive weed was mixed in with my Shasta Daisies, which are just about to bloom. The kind of weed that attaches to your clothes and skin. Gloves came out and two hours later, I made a huge dent. Flowers tomorrow.

I had mentioned there were would be additional categories I'd throw into the mix and today I have one I've been anxious to get to. I'm going to call it Magical Elves. They are the people who help make fandom run. I mentioned @phoenixacid in an earlier post, who has been hosting @hd-fan-fair for ten years. This category will cover folks like her and that do even more...yes, even more...

What I'm reading:

On the Discord Drarry Fans Writers and Artists there is a channel for recs. I stole this one from there but then discovered I'd already read it. However, it was long enough ago that I don't remember all of the details. I think I read it when it first came out and before I hopped back into fandom in spring of 2021. The Ordeal of Being Known (146k) by @lou-isfake. I'm only on chapter 3 right now but I just love this Draco and his Oscar the Grouch house-slippers and his house-elf Timsy. The writing is so fresh and clever, I find myself smiling most of the time. Here's the summary, which I think gives you a flavor of the writing style I'm talking about:

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter. Features fuzzy cartoon slippers, devious house elves, 90s music, and lots—LOTS—of memories. Ron is annoyingly hot, Hermione sees right through you, Harry is a powerful idiot, and Draco is a reclusive masochist that would buy an entire city if it would make a kid happy. (And Pansy is "5'2, I wanna dance with you, and I'm sophisticated fun.")

Go read The Ordeal of Being Known on AO3.

Hit the Keep Reading!!!!!

Magical Elves:

The first person I want to highlight in this category is actually someone I've met in person at HP Cons and we've stayed in touch over the years in real life. *hugs darlin* You've probably seen @sassy-cissa's name as an author or maybe an email asking you about a fic for a fest but I'm betting most of you have no idea how much she's done for fandom for more than a decade and half, especially for Drarry fandom.

Let me list the ways in how awesome she is:

Current modding responsibilities:

25 Days of Draco and Harry (started in 2009) What 2009 ? Oh my! And do you know she reads each and every story posted for the fest and comments, too! HD Mpreg Fest – (started in 2011 – I've been modding since 2018) HD Fan Fair/Career Fair – co-modding since 2019)

Previous modding responsibilities:

Co-mod for H/D Erised from 2014 to 2018 Moderated the H/D Prophet from about 2016 to 2021

See that last one H/D Prophet. Take a look at the link just for a moment. Every Drarry WIP that was updated that week was listed, fests' status, drabble prompts, etc...Every single week. The prophet soon closed down after a few more months due to lack of participation (fandom had moved away from LJ).

Communities owned and/or Maintain:

On LJ: Slythindor100 and HarryDraco Mpreg On Tumblr: H/D Mpreg and Slythindor100

In addition, why yes there is more, Sassy writes, too, and beautifully! Sassy-Cissa (on AO3). Over 109 stories, mostly Drarry, some Hermione/Severus and a few Harry/Ginny...but as she put it....(but they usually end up divorced or Ginny dies). *snicker*

And she's on FanLore! And she also betas for some of the best.

So I know this is long but I just want folks to be aware of those working in the background, making our experience here in fandom enjoyable and filled with lovely content. They truly are magical elves. Sassy doesn't post much on Tumblr or on Discord but she does pop-in now and then. Next time you see her name, you'll now know who she is.

Tumblr Tidbit:

Did you know that you can edit the text below the Keep Reading line on your post and it will make the changes to all reblogs of your post. Edit above and sorry the reblogs will show the original. This comes in handy if you're making a Masterlist of works or something else that has lots of links or needs to be updated frequently.

Happy Tuesday and Sorry this was so late. My ancient computer decided to crash multiple times. Rom

[wysteir]

.

My heart is still fragile

Lots of folks tell me I shouldn't keep it that way, but I think I will

I've spent so much time trying not to feel anything, trying not to let things get to me, trying anything and everything

Now I have a mask I don't like using that doesn't even cover my whole face

Now I have silence /

/ Now I lost much of my voice

They're useful, sure

But I didn't grow or anything. The silence was good in some ways and bad in others. I HAVE always wanted to curb the impulse to just say whatever, I HAVE wanted to get to take a moment before I spoke. And the price I paid was losing much of my ability to speak up. I had to relearn that one, it's still hard.

I have a lot of trouble "naturally" engaging in a conversation beyond listening! If your reading this and think I've been doing a good job, I really appreciate it.

I am trying very, very hard

It's a little difficult with a fragile heart, it's really scary actually!!! I had to learn bravery, to get to somewhere better. I'm scared a lot of the time so I have to be brave a lot of the time and shit, it's exhausting when I have to actually think about it

None of the learning was fun

But I was blessed to have good friends, to make good friends, and to deepen friendships, over the course of the decade

Fell in love and drifted out of it

Indulged infatuations for worse, for better

I keep making mistakes! I just keep making them, and I hated getting back up and it was miserable and anything. But I really wanted to be able to get back up. I really really wanted to be kind, to be cool, to be sexy

It felt silly but hey, maybe it would help if it wasn't so serious. I wanted to smile, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to be alright

Hell on Earth I wanted to be alright

I wasn't before, I still kind of am not

It does get easier but you do have to go get it, and I don't think people talk enough about how much it sucks to go get it. Maybe they don't wanna discourage people or smth. Reader I hope you have the strength to go get it. I really hope you do, fuck it's so hard sometimes.

I basically made this post last night too but I still wanna say things about it I guess HAHA

FUCK it sucks to get up and go get it

I think it helped that I had a good idea of the kind of person I wanted to be

And it's funny, I didn't even become her!!!

I'm too silly with it it seems

I wanted to be one of those cool silent types, but I love to tell jokes and I love to meme. I think that was the downfall of a lot of things in my life, I was mostly doing things because I thought they were cool but I didn't put enough thought into having fun with the process

And now that I am, I dunno I think I look pretty cool doing my thing HAHA

Reader, do you think I'm cool?

I probably think you're cool, fwiw

All of my friends are pretty fucking cool

I think that's all I have to say for now

Reader if you made it here, I appreciate you a lot. You may cash in a sticker, a hug, or a smooch on the cheek/forehead, or all three if you're a greedy lil goober (but I won't get mad ufufufu)

Feel free to reply onto this - maybe don't reblog it with a comment but hey if you think a follower might need to see smth like this go wild.

You can poke me on discord too if you'd like

For the record, I DO bite, but only if you ask, or only if you're mean HAHAHA

Regardless, I'll see you tomorrow yeah?

[inventors-fair]

Valiant Efforts: Battle Runners-Up ~

Our runners-up this week are @grornt, @hypexion, and @real-aspen-hours!

@grornt — Tovolar's Moonlight Assault / Harvesttide Exultation

I think this card is balanced, well-designed, flavorful, resonant, and pretty...normal! That's a good thing when you're designing cards that are supposed to be good. I did want to swing for the fences with the winners this week—as much as I could without destroying the stadium. This really is a well-designed removal suite for green and feels like it's doing everything that you can do right in the color, though, so what's to complain about?

Maybe the fact that is DOES do so much stuff is reason for concern, but green has had its heyday of advantages, and this card probably isn't going to break any formats like its pre/mid-2020s ilk. Creatures, life, card draw, and buffs isn't too bad...is it? I'm kidding, this all fits in for both how much a battle can matter when you need it to be a bit of everything, AND how easily a battle can be flavored on a world we already know with a story we're familiar with. Tovolar makes the Harvesttide a little crazy, and what more can we ask for than a witchy, wolfy get-together. Personally, I'd ask for Tovolar's digits. His wolfy, wolfy digits.

@hypexion — Attack on Eiganjo

Once more, everything about this battle makes sense. You want to find the best ways to deal damage to get the advantages that you need. The more that you penetrate the defenses, the stronger you can get. You picked a line, and stuck with it, and I'm right there with you. Did multiple people come up with the concept for the assault supertype? I missed conversations in the workshop if so. Regardless, that name makes sense and I'm glad that folks went with it. The different directions are quite interesting as well!

I wish there was an easier way for this particular scenario to be made manifest. Can you ping the battle over and over until you have eight power on board? Perhaps! Is getting two 2/2 creatures worth it, too? If they have first strike, I'd say so. The rewards for battling could perhaps be more fleshed out, and/or there could be a reward for winning the battle, if such a thing is feasible, but that hardly matters. I get what this card does and what it wants the game state to look like. It's complicated once we get there and I'd love to see the decision-making process of someone having to deal with/against this in combat.

@real-aspen-hours — Loot the Storehouses!

Another assault! Gotta love it, don't you. This is actually quite similar to the Granary card, or at least it would seem so at first glance. And then the actual ability and implied flavor happens, and we're in a different world. Probably literally! The card advantage is different, which is fine, and it's more focused on that than it is a more general reward feeling. I think what I really like here is the utilization of the second main phase, or at least how this card wants you to think about it. The benefits of battle, if you will.

I think "You may play those cards this turn" would be better than the whole "until your next end step" clause, just because of clarity, but that doesn't matter too much. Ooh, or what if you could only play them on a turn that Loot the Storehouses was attacked? There are plenty of options and there's not one right answer. Considering that card advantage is pretty easy to understand, my curiosity wants me to ask where you imagined this card taking place, y'know? What world, which storehouses, etc. It could be anywhere and that's all fine, but as it stands, I do want to thank everyone who submitted a single-faced battle this contest for all the cool things that one can do with them. Super proud.

So, I'll post about this in the Discord, but I'm going to be away from my computer most of the day. Again. Life is a long series of doing thangs. Commentary will either be up late tonight, or sometime during the day tomorrow. I'll be working as hard as I can, though!

@abelzumi