🛎️🛎️🛎️ FIC TIME, COME AND GET IT !!!
Here’s the “Study Date With A Germ” fic, featuring Esme !! (And some art my partner and I did together !!)
Enjoy :]
…Your computer’s fans whir to life as you power it on. It’s not the fanciest device you’ve ever worked with; just a college-loaned laptop that can barely run Solitaire without overheating. It’s better than nothing, though, right?
It takes a bit of patience, but four slow loading screens (and a quick refresh) later, you’re greeted by the sight of a group chat between yourself and a classmate.
The two of you haven’t actually interacted before this point, if you were being honest; in fact, you had never actually seen the faces of any of your classmates before. Not for this class, anyways.
And yet, your Media Literacy professor thought it necessary to randomly pair each student together for a group assignment, sit back, and hope for the best.
At least this interaction was guaranteed to be a little interesting; whether you were paired with an extraord or a human, there was probably some sort of story for them to tell.
You glance at the clock before typing into the group chat, the keys clicking softly in the quiet of your room.
[ Ready for that assignment? ]
You watch the screen for a moment. Your classmate starts typing for a couple of seconds, only to stop and start back up again in quick succession.
[ … ]
[ … ]
[ Yea, I’m ready whenever u r ]
[ I’ll join the link in a sec, grabbing some water first ]
[ ^_^ ]
[ Ok! Take your time! ]
[ Thank u ^_^ ]
[ … ]
[ Oh btw ]
[ Before I hop in ]
[ I’m sorry if u hear me sniffling thru the mic ]
[ Or if I’m hard 2 understand sometimes ]
[ … ]
You raise a brow; what’s that supposed to mean?
[ … ]
[ I’m kinda sorta sick by default ]
[ Like constantly ]
[ It’s a chronic thing ]
[ I hope it doesn’t bug u 2 bad, ik it can gross some ppl out sometimes ]
[ Oh! That’s alright! No need to apologize ]
[ If u say so ^///^ ]
[ I’ll brb ]
…Interesting, but not entirely unheard of; maybe it’s a chronic sinus problem, or something more extraord-race-specific…?
The webcam is, much like the rest of the laptop, nothing special. In fact, it’s kind of grainy and unfocussed this close up. It takes a bit of adjusting and maneuvering the computer upon your desk, but you’re eventually able to find an angle that’s more coherent.
Just in time, too; there’s a chime from the meeting, a brief moment of buffering—
And you’re greeted by the sight of your classmate fussing with their own webcam until they’re finally in focus. They eventually settle back with an awkward wave.
“H— hey,” their voice crackles through the speaker, the audio taking a moment to register before settling. “It’s, uhb— it’s d’ice to meet you.”
Oh, they’re cute. Quirky, and a little awkward right off the bat— but cute, nonetheless. Charming.
The room behind them is also quite telling; it’s decorated with Sanrio memorabilia and pastel colors, contrasting the dull grey walls and scarce lighting that peeks through the lacy curtains…
“So you are an extraord,” you murmur, peering into the camera with a curious smile. They almost seem to shy under your gaze, fidgeting with the baggy sleeves of their hoodie.
“Y-yeah, I-I’b— uh—” They fumble for a moment. “S-sli’be folk. Or… somethi’g— ahem. S-something to that effect.”
That would explain the shiny, somewhat fluid glint of their features.
“A-A’d you are…?”
You introduce yourself with a smile, noting the way your classmate studies your face as you speak. You glance at their display name in turn.
“…And you must be Rhi—”
“W-wait,” they cut you off before you can read their display name aloud. “I-I, umb… I d-don’t actually… go by that na’be. A-anymore. H-haven’d been able to change it in-sys’dem yet.”
“Oh! My bad— what’s your preferred name, then?”
“…Y-you ca’d… jus’d call m’be Esme. Umb, Esme Vyra. S-she/they, i-in case tha’d, uh, mb’atters.”
You make a mental note to change her display name in your school contacts, giving her a friendly smile in the meantime. “Thanks for the heads-up! It’s good to meet you, Esme.”
“Th-thanks, umb… you too.”
Picking up on her lingering tension, you decide to dive straight into the project.
“Have you already read the material—?”
“Mhm, it’s m’by second ti— gh-hgm— s-second time reading it, actually. I, I-I read it back in middle-school…”
That doesn’t surprise you too much; it seems like everyone and their mother is at least a little familiar with Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis these days. It’s practically a staple of extraord education, as well as a hit in the queer and disabled communities.
“Looks like we’re in the same boat, then!” You don’t miss the way your classmate perks up at that. “I’ll pull up the question document.”
“Sou’ds good to m’be…” Esme shuffles in their seat, seemingly getting comfortable. “I, uhb, a-already took sobe notes, in case we nd’eed them…”
“Ooh, that’s pretty handy!”
You don’t miss the way Esme’s face flushes at your approval. She fidgets with her sleeves, looking anywhere but the monitor.
“Aheh, yeah… Gregor’s kinda jus’d like m’be for real…”
You stifle a laugh, watching your awkward classmate relax a little further in your company.
“Hod’estly, I could… probably do this assignmen’dt in mby sleep. It was ki’d of a special in’deresd— snrrgk—- s-sorry. A-a major special interest of m’bine.”
“Really?” Now that piques your interest.
“Y-yeah; I… I-I just find t-transformation interesti’g. Snffk. The ways it could in’dterfere with, uh… h-hheh… w-with regular…. Ah— Heh!! hHH’ESCHh’chieww—!! Snrgkk! Ugh, s-sorry, umb… What was I sayi’g….”
“Bless you!” You notice the way she shies away in response. “You were talking about how transformation interferes with…”
You trail off, letting your classmate fill in the blanks at her own pace.
“R-right, uh…! R-regular day to day life, a’d vul’derability, a’d the differen’dt ways people respo’d to it… Plus it, uh… th-the story hits ki’d of close to ho’be. I feel a l-lot like Gregor sometimes, aheh. A-and his sister, sort of.”
“Ahh. I think I get it…”
Your sympathy must show on your face; Esme fumbles for a moment in reaction.
“I-it’s—! It’s better now, though! I dod’t, uhb, have to deal with th-that sor’d of thi’g anymore, I-I live on mby own, uh— a-away fro’b my family, a-a’d—! Uh—! M-my dorm is cozy, a’d my… I-I don’t have to worry about a job the way Gregor does, I-I’ve got disabili’dy mb’oney, and— and m’by friends are n’dice, and treat mbe well, and—!! A-and…”
She trails off, translucent face going orange with blush. You get the feeling she’s said too much for her own comfort, but she can’t exactly take the words back…
“I-I, uh… m-mby… poin’d is, thi’gs are differen’d now, and I… I-ihh… hah-hH’IZZCHh’IEWw—!! O-oh…”
“Bless you—!” You nearly gasp.
“T-than’gk— uh… t-thank you, I… Sorry, uh… th-tha’d was a lot. A-all at once. Gh-hgm.”
“It’s alright, it’s alright—! You don’t have to apologize, I get it,” you reassure. “I’m glad to hear things are better now, at least. I’m still… sorry you had to go through anything like that, though.”
Esme fidgets restlessly with their sleeves, eyes shifting anywhere but the monitor.
“Th-thanks, uhb… I-it’s alright, I guess i’b still…. Snrkk. S-sorta getting over it.”
“Abuse really sticks with you, I get it— it takes time… If you ever need somebody to talk to, I’m, uh— I’m always just a text or call away,” you offer after a moment of thought.
Esme manages to look twice as embarrassed, hiding their face in their sleeves. Still, she mumbles out a quiet,
“Th… than’gk you. I’ll, uh, probably take you up o’d that.”
She seems stuck in her head for a moment, face obscured and antennae blushing bright-orange in a way that gives away her bashfulness. You eventually clear your throat, hoping to spare her any further insecurity.
“So, um…! That assignment— I’ve got the document pulled up, whenever you’re ready to start going through it…? No rush, though! It’s alright if you need a minute…”
“Oh, uhb— y-yeah, let’s… Let’s take a look. I-I ca’d handle it.”
The questions go by quickly, despite the occasional lag or connection error; with your combined knowledge, as well as Esme’s notes and commentary, the assignment is filled out before you know it.
She’s a quick typer, too— through the course of the questionnaire, you discover that she’s a programmer as a hobby, and even a member of your university’s coding club.
“I m-mos’dly, uh… jus’d work o’d indie games a’d… m-mods a’d stuff,” she clarifies when you press her on the subject. There’s a particular spark in their eyes, like you’re finally speaking her language. “I… s-someti’bes, I make my own music for my games, too. They— they’re usually…. E-experi’bental.”
“Ooh— maybe I’ll have to check them out sometime,” you quip, resting your chin in your hand. Esme’s face lights up at your interest in her work.
“R-really—? I can— I-I ca’d send you a copy of, uh, o’de of mby… snrkk! O-one of my recent works—! It’s kind of… uh… I-it’s maybe a little freaky— c-creepy, I meant creepy—! F-freaky implies that it, uh— th-that it’s suggestive, it’s— i-it’s just, uh, b-body horror, and… uh…” Her face flushes, mind apparently slipping into the gutter. You stifle a laugh, interest building bit by bit.
“Hey, no judgement here! I’m no stranger to that genre; I’m down for whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”
Esme peeks out from between her sleeves.
“…A-are you sure…?”
“Mhm! I don’t see why not,” you insist. “I’m sure whatever I’ve got in my Steam library is more questionable, honestly. I have no room to judge.”
Esme’s hands lower from their face, revealing a wobbly, beyond-flustered smile.
“W-well… usually, I make horror… stuff…. B-but there is this o’de game I made a while back… It’s about— uh, y-you play as this… uhb… snrffk! This girl that gets t-turned into a pool toy, a-and has to… navigate life tha’d way for a while… B-but then she gets taken in by— uh, b-bought by…” Esme’s voice goes quiet with trepidation, eyes flicking to the monitor to gauge your reaction. “…B-by this other girl who… h-has a thing for pool toys, a-and… still sees the value in…. th-the player character, even though they’re inanimate, a’d talks to her, a’d cuddles with her, a-a’d… does… other things…..?”
When she doesn’t detect any judgement or disgust in your expression, being met instead with a patient and encouraging smile, Esme seems to relax.
“So it’s like a… an objectum dating sim, kind of? Like a more specific ‘Date Everything’ sort of game?”
“Y-yeah— yeah! That’s exa’gtly what it is,” she confirms, shoulders slumping in relief at your recognition. “I, uh… w-wrote the plot with a friend of m’bine a while back, when we were… b-both sort of figuring ourselves out, s-so it’s… uh… m-maybe a bit personal, but… I could…. Share it with you, if— i-if you’re cool with that…?”
“I’d love to give it a try!”
Esme practically melts on the spot.
“O-okay—! I’ll, umb! I’ll send you a copy—! W-when we’re, uh— w-when— A-after the call,” she stammers.
“Sounds good to me! I’ll even message you when I’m playing it— I could give you a live reaction, if you want,” you half-joke. Esme’s face flushes an even brighter shade of orange, smiling wider than you’ve seen her all day.
“Y-yes! Please! I-if, uhb, if it isn’d too much of mbe to ask…!” She falters. “…T-though, uhb…. Maybe I… m-maybe I should send it through somethi’g other tha’d… uh…”
You eventually catch her implications; sharing a potentially suggestive game through your college account may be a bit of a risk.
“I uh— I can send you my number, if you want! Or, if you have a different chat in mind, I could—”
“R-regular texti’g works with mbe—!”
“Great!”
Esme hums faintly as you type your number into the chat.
“I, uh… I-I’m glad somebody’s interested in my stuff; it’s… it’s bee’d a while sid’ce I’ve talked with someo’de about my games.” Esme rests her elbows upon her desk, glancing between the monitor and the rest of their room. “I’d love to show you my set-up one of these days, if you’d be in’derested. S-sa’be with mby… gh-hgm. M-my music. I-if you-hh… if— hheh! aASCHh’IEWwh—!! Ohh, f-fuck—“
She doesn’t react quickly enough to cover the outburst; one minute you can see her just fine, the next minute, a fine mist coats her webcam and obscures the sight of her. Still, you can make out the vague shape of her blushing form as she fumbles with her sleeves, frantically wiping up the mess with the fabric.
“Bless you!” You practically cheer, wide-eyed and surprised by the sheer mess Esme managed to produce all at once.
“S-sorry, sorry— that was gross, I-I’mb so sorry… I-I should’ve covered tha’d one quicker, I didn’t think it would… umb… Oh, gosh.”
She looks utterly humiliated as she retreats back in her chair, hiding her face in her sleeves all over again. She shifts a little awkwardly in her seat for a moment.
“No need to apologize—! It’s ok! It happens to the best of us,” you try to reassure. If you were in arms-reach, you might offer a tissue or handkerchief; instead, you settle for a patient smile and a playful, awkward pat to the top of your monitor. “You’re all good, Esme— you’re all good.”
Esme peeks out shyly from behind her sleeves again. There’s a peculiar look in her eyes when she finally glances back at you, antennae wobbling.
“…Y-you’re n’dot… grossed out…?”
“Not really,” you reassure. “It’s— it was kind of cute, actually. A-and it’s not like you could help it, y’know?“ Your cheeks warm up at your own bashful admission; a shy glance to Esme proves that she’s similarly flustered. “Besides! There’s nothing wrong with a little vulnerability, especially when it’s out of your control.”
Your classmate’s eyes flicker over your face, blush growing brighter as she’s hit with a gradual wave of understanding.
“…I-I, uhb… I guess you’re right,” she murmurs. “Th… th-thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” you beam back. Esme’s wobbly smile mirrors your own.
“…Gh-hgm. Uh, w-would… Would you, umb, w-want to work together again? Soon…? I-I, I don’t really… know anybody else in this class, a-a’d… you’ve bee’d…. Snffk! Y-you’ve bee’d really sweet— uh, k-kind— to me.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Oh— o-of course—! I’d love to, if you’re up for it!”
Esme’s face is more orange than green, at this point; she looks equal parts bashful and eager as she types her number into the chat.
“S-sou’ds good to mbe…!”
[ New contact added: Esme Vyra 🐼🧡 ]
