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#better posted unfinished than not posted at all I guess

f-oighear · 2 days

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The Big Black Clover Fanfic Recommendation Post

I've been talking about making that post since forever and I think I've finally finished compiling them!

So. Grab a notepad. Take out your TBR list. Get ready to bookmark or mark for later. And let's go.

I guess I should start with a few disclaimers 🫡

I haven't read every fic out there and there are notably a few fics I know I'm going to love but haven't started yet. I think I'll update the post regularly.

The fics on this post are fics I enjoyed and remember having read. considering how many things I forget on a daily basis, it means a lot.

I have my favorite characters, tropes, and themes and this will definitely show.

I'm attempting to organize the fics in categories but ofc some shippy fics also have feels or are angsty or are fluffy, same for the AUs... An attempt is made to organize them based on the vibes I remember (I’ve read some of those literal years ago).

If you're in this post and you think I've put your fic in the wrong category: don't hesitate to reach out!

For the shippy fics, I have my favorite ships but I'm a multishipper sooooo there's that.

I'm recommending oneshots, multichaptered fics, entire AUs, series and fics that are unfinished and probably never will be. Do keep that in mind if you don't like reading abandoned works (you'll be missing out but I can understand).

Let's start! It'll be a long one.

General/Feels/Character studies

💜 Threads, Solarwitchwrites

Vanessa is a stitch witch. She is the best stitch witch of her generation, possibly in an age. But she has one power she doesn’t brag about: she can see the threads of fate that bind destined souls together. It’s rarely been useful, often it’s painful; but sometimes she gets to watch something amazing unfold.

💜 A World Without You, Acacia_May

Vanessa grows concerned for Finral when he begins to act tense and distant after they return from the Forest of Witches. In her attempts to comfort him, however, she may find some comfort of her own.

💜 Teammates, Cour104

Still adjusting to her newfound freedom after escaping from her cage and the Witch Queen, Vanessa has a nightmare. Finral is there to help her through it and remind her that she's no longer alone.

💜 You're Not Alone, IAmStoryteller

For Noelle, there has always been one person in her corner. For Mimosa, there has always been one person that made her want to be better. Noelle Silva and Mimosa Vermillion are cousins, but they are also each other’s greatest support.

💜 It Used To Be So Simple (Once Upon A Time), WildFlowerWoods

A collection of short stories about the childhoods of various Black Bulls, among other things, containing my own headcanons.

💜 fated, orphaned

Some Magic Knights are bonded by something stronger than just kinship. (Charlotte x Yami, Asta x Noelle, Nozel x Vanessa)

💜 Think about it (series), thoughtfullyrainynightmare

This is a collection of short drabbles that exist to give insight to the canon characters presented in Black Clover from my personal perspective. This is about how I see them

AUs

🩷 Black Bulls Pirate AU, Firefutte

An infamous pirate crew sails across the sea's waves. Many rumours and stories exists of this crew. Always one thing they all have in common and that's the tale describing them as chaotic, lawless and crazy hooligans in dire need of mercy from the gods. In reality they're simply living as them, chaotic, lawless and crazy hooligans they may be, but this ship's crew have found a family amongst each other in a world that denied them such comfort for years. And they would have it no other way if you asked them, such is the reality of The Black Bull.

🩷 Mimosa & Noelle Ideale AU, IAmStoryteller

Seven-year-old Noelle and Mimosa run away from home while traveling with their grandparents. Meanwhile, 16-year-old Zora is trying his very best to be a Super-Wizard and takedown corrupt Magic Knights. But one day he runs into two little girls who clearly are nobility, but also who need help. This changes everything.

🩷 Black Bulls Steampunk AU, IAmStoryteller

The Black Bulls Crew is about to officially retire from being sky pirates. After years of working together and becoming a family, they agree that it’s time for one last hurrah to prove that they are the best of the best, especially after they heard about a map for the infamous treasure of Elf King.

🩷 New World, Bulls99

Following a second devastating defeat to Vanica, Noelle expects to die peacefully - painfully, but peacefully. Instead she wakes up in a world where everything seems upside down. But how much is really different?

Romance

❤️ Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor, Supernaturalgrant

“He’s dumb as fuck.” She asserts bluntly. It surprises an honest laugh out of Nozel, which seems to amuse her slightly. “You know that, right?” “I can’t force him to be with me, Mereoleona. Even I am not that high-reaching.” He tells her honestly. Or- Fuegoleon and Nozel break up when Nozel is promoted to the Silver Eagles captain, neither of them really knows why. (Fuegoleon x Nozel)

❤️ Running Out of Time, IAmStoryteller

On the day that elves reincarnated and Zagred the Word-Devil nearly gained a physical body, something went wrong—Zora Ideale and Kirsch Vermillion wind up in a time loop. They have to relive the horrible, long day over and over again, while reluctantly working together to figure out why. (Zora x Kirsch)

❤️ The Clover Kingdom in Chaos: A Dire Tale, Mamavino

Over a month after defeating Lucius Zogratis, new troubles lie ahead. When Sol comes knocking on Yami's door in a panic because Charlotte is missing, he acts indifferent at first. But what happened after their tea-drinking date? And is it true that she has been trapped by a curse again? Yami puts every effort into finding out what happened and sets out to find Charlotte. Noelle Silva falls into a strange sleep. Rouge, Vanessa's cat, is now attached to young Silva's life. Nozel insists on having his sister in the palace. But that also means opening the doors to the Black Bulls. This will certainly provide some challenges. In addition, all the spirits are falling ill, and everyone seems to be in a total panic. Mereoleona, Asta and a small team sets out to seek out the cause and solution to all this. Is it all connected? In the library they will find help, or is it an enemy After all? (Charlotte x Yami, Nozel x Vanessa, Mereoleona x OC, Fuegoleon x OC)

❤️ Night of Vows, Vilandel

She kissed him again, more deeply this time, smiling as she felt him giving in to the kiss. As they parted, she poked his cheek and said with a smirk, “Consider this a vow I just made.” (Nozel x Vanessa)

❤️ wildest dreams (because falling's not the problem), IAmStoryteller

Yuno/Langris/Mimosa series (Yuno x Langris x Mimosa)

❤️ This Was A Mistake, JaylinnW

“You really think this will be a restful break,” the larger man grinned. “You are in for a surprise. You will not be getting much time to relax,” William opened his mouth but Yami stopped him. “I’m not talking about that, Goldie Guts.” He paused, smirking. “Well not only that. I’m talking about the fact that we brought all our idiots with us. I know my bulls- shit’s gonna hit the roof.” “It won’t be that bad I’m sure,” William moved away from his boyfriend to get up from the bed. (William x Yami, minor Nozel x Vanessa)

❤️ Masquerade, IAmStoryteller

The Masquerade Ball hadn't happened in many years in Clover, but that changes when Julius Novachrono decides that it's high time to bring back some old traditions. (Asta x Yuno, Nozel x Vanessa, Finral x Leopold, Magna x Nebra, Fragil x Luck, Zora x Kirsch, Letoile x Gordon, Gauche x Grey, Rill x Charmy)

❤️ Green, Pink, and Grayscale, juviin

Soulmates are a thing of the past, or at least, they should be. So why does the youngest child of the royal Silva family see no colors? (Asta x Noelle)

❤️ Now All My Dreams are Melting on the Asphalt in the Heat, IAmStoryteller

Vanessa Enoteca, the lead singer and guitarist of the Punk band Arresting Dark Weave, is asked by her mentor/friend/first love Yami Sukehiro, the lead guitarist of The Black Bulls, to compose songs for his and Charlotte Roselei’s wedding. Except, she has got to work with Charlotte’s friend Nozel Silva, the First Seat Cello Player of the Clover Kingdom Baroque Orchestra, who just so happens to a composer. Can Vanessa and Nozel create some amazing songs for the Yami/Charlotte wedding in time? Or will it go up in smoke? (Nozel x Vanessa)

❤️ MUSIC CONNECTS ALL, UNLESS IT'S OFF BEAT, orphaned

In Noelle's defense, it was all Kahono's fault. Noelle so happens to be listening to Kahono's rant before she gets into this entire complicated situation that had just happened, (fuck fate, by the way), and now she had dug a hole too deep to get out of. Who the hell was Tchaikovsky, what the hell was a quarter note, and why are there eighty–eight keys on a piano? To think it just started with a simple walk on the beach. (Kahono x Noelle)

❤️ Children of the Future, LightNova

When Yami and Charlotte had been summoned to see the Wizard king they had not been expecting to find out they had a 19 year old daughter from the future! Nor had they been expecting even more children from the future to appear in their world shortly after her. Just what was going on, and who was sending them here and why? (Charlotte x Yami, Finral x Vanessa, Zora x Nebra, Gauche x Grey, Fuegoleon x OC, William x OC, Julius x OC, Yuno x OC, Asta x Noelle)

❤️ I'll Be Home for Christmas, HotaruGFC (JaclynGFC)

Charlotte gets an invitation to a wedding, and she can't go alone. (Charlotte x Yami)

❤️ Oh What Am I Supposed to Do Without You?, Supernaturalgrant

“Mercury poisoning.” The silence that follows Owen's statement is deafening. The occupants of the room share looks of utter confusion. “That’s like saying Fuegoleon has third-degree burns from that cool ass fire arm situation he has going on.” Yami’s the first to break it. Or: Nozel is diagnosed with mercury poisoning and forced to give his magic up until the can find a cure. Chaos ensues. (Fuegoleon x Nozel)

❤️ Paper Hearts, KaLolasFantasyWorld

Helena Drazel is a twenty five year old Royal from Diamond Kingdom. She's a charming and cheerful woman, ready to leave the sheltered embrace of her family's estate. Her mother previously a Clover citizen and an old friend of late Acier Silva, gets her daughter an invitation to study healing magic in the Capital. Because of that friendship Helena is placed under the care of Royal House of Silva. However the siblings, especially the eldest Nozel, are not so fond of her at the beginning. (Nozel x OC)

❤️ Boys will be Embarrassing, loafingdragon, subtleassiduities

A series of stories documenting Fuegoleon and Nozel's totally-not-gay-completely-serious very-manly escapades over the years. (Fuegoleon x Nozel)

❤️ Damn Eyes, musicalinny

The first time their eyes met he doesn't notice that he actually gave a damn. (Zora x Nebra)

❤️ (Not) At first sight, BBRosenfeld

Finesse is bethrothed to the son of the Vaude family, and she doesn't really mind. However, she was not expecting how much he'd grow on her. (Finral x Finesse)

Fluffy, Funny, Fix-it

💚 Flower Crowns, Angeliccharizard

During an off day, Asta decides it's a great idea to bring a devil to a church

💚 Owen vs The Black Bulls, WildflowerWoods

Owen has seen a lot in his time as a doctor in the magic knights infirmary, even more since his promotion to head of the royal infirmary, overseeing both the magic knights and ordinary patients. he has dealt with his fair share of stubborn visitors, people hiding injuries and patients trying to escape out the window—Lord Julius himself was a common offender for the last of those—but even treating Mereoleona Vermillion's self-inflicted burns was better than the Black Bulls. There was nothing that could have prepared Owen for the Black Bulls.

💚 Why Asta (and Liebe) are Banned From the Kitchen, Bluemeanies

After Yami's katana becomes Demon Slicer and joins Asta's grimoire, Asta and Liebe start looking for other things that could be good anti-magic weapons. Liebe might be taking the concept a little too far.

💚 Early Black Bulls (series), Acacia_May

Early Black Bulls Days

💚 An Impossible Decision, MysticalShizz

Mereoleona’s head pops into view, first taking in you, then turning to observe the small girl perched on your hip. Her look of confusion slowly morphs into disbelief, then into incredulity. “Did … Darling. Did you steal the Silva’s youngest child?” Fix-It fic where Mereoleona and spouse reader adopt Noelle.

💚 Ghosts, IAmStoryteller

Julius has a bit of a secret. He can see ghosts of his dear departed friends.

💚 Doggy Days, Undefeated_Lionmess

Yami sends Vanessa, Finral, and Charmy to explore a dungeon. Only two of them come back still human. Finral supposes he’s had worse days.

💚 That One Time When Julius Was Late, wintermelon_soldier

"We're late... again," Marx said with a worried expression. "Don't worry, Marx. I'm sure everything is just f-" The Magic Emperor pushed both doors open hoping to greet the Captains only to be welcomed by a vast wasteland. The conference room where it once stood is replaced by a large, empty landmass with no trees or building in sight. "W-what in the world is happening?" Marx cried at his mentor.

💚 The Vice-Captains of the Magic Knights (series), IAmStoryteller

The Vice-Captains of the Magic Knights series

💚 Teenagers, Kaitouahiru

Yami was going to talk to Julius about the recruitable age of Magic Knights. Make no mistake, Yami did not care that fifteen year olds were being put in dangerous or life threatening situations. He didn’t care that they could be drafted to go to war if the situation called for it. He cared that almost none of these brats knew how to do basic home skills.

💚 faith bleeds through the cracks, TellNearaToWrite

Yami knew three things. First, that being a squad captain was shaping up to be a lot like fatherhood, and second, he was definitely not cut out for that shit. Third. Well. Julius had a lot to answer for, that was for sure. The least he could do was help a bit.

Angst!

🧡 Geranium, Azuvist

The flowers in Yami's lungs never really stopped growing. (Yami x William)

🧡 Black Clover: The Blood of Fate, ChanceQueen

In a dark alternate universe of the clover kingdom, there is one question that no one ever wanted to ask, let alone know the answer to. A question that wraps its claws around you, ripping scars that cannot be seen and will never heal. What if Vanessa had never manifested the red thread of fate?

🧡 Megicula's Curse by MaryJoeycoco

After everything, the Black Bulls thought they were safe. They thought Noelle took care of the devil Megicula. They soon realize how wrong they were. Now it's up to Asta to save her but he soon realizes how his feelings change about Noelle through the nightmare land. (Asta x Noelle)

The Silva Fics™

Yes, they get their own category. It's the birb siblings. They deserve it.

💙 Artifice, subtleassiduities

When a retrieval mission traps Nozel with a dangerous and powerful artifact, Nebra and Solid struggle to find help before time runs out for him. But their attempts are thwarted by a widespread, rapidly progressing phenomenon: Everybody in the Clover Kingdom is forgetting about Nozel Silva. Their only choice is to depend on one another-- and Noelle, the only other person who can hold onto a memory of their dear brother. Their rescue mission forces them to face their own memories, twisted against them in ways they may not be able to overcome.

💙 Casa Silva, Mouxe (SPANISH)

Conjunto de historias que comenzo para mostrar la relacion de Acier Silva con sus hijos durante la infancia pero termino convirtiendose en relatos de la relacion de los hermanos silva.

💙 Lay Beside Me, Under Wicked Sky, Avacelt

Noelle leaves, and the chips fall where they do. [Silva family!fic, post-canon]

💙 The Boy Who Played with Water, BeamMeUpCas

Nozel only becomes aware of the extreme lengths his siblings were going to torment their youngest when Nebra, of all people, appears sweaty and disheveled in his office, stuttering and stammering about how Solid has Noelle trapped in a water bubble in the rose garden and she isn't moving Or: Solid nearly drowns Noelle. Nozel flips his shit and becomes the halfway decent big brother he was meant to be.

💙 My Father Told Me (series), succulentsunrise

My Father Told Me is a series, which attempts to understand the effects that the Silva parents must have had on their children, and how the age gaps and personalities between the children themselves affected their relationships.

💙 Make an Effort, IAmStoryteller

Solid isn’t very nice or kind or gentle. He knows this, but when he is hit with the realization that Nozel and Nebra might not know that he loves them, he sets out to show his love and appreciation for his two older siblings. And maybe, extend an olive brand or two…

💙 What Yami Saw by BeamMeUpCas

Nozel needs a favor. Yami will maybe not hold it over his head for all eternity but he'll take great delight in letting Nozel think he will.

#black clover #fic rec #massive post

27 notes · View notes

hephaestn · 2 months

Text

Steve doesn’t really know why he’s agreed to this. Well, he does know. He needed to escape Hawkins, anyhow, and Billy had given him an opportunity—kind of.

They aren’t best friends, they aren’t even friends—they tolerate each other at best. Steve knows Billy’s ‘you should come down to California and visit me someday’ had been pure courtesy but Steve was suffocating at his parent’s house, he wanted nothing else but to be as far as possible from everything and everyone—so he took it as a literal invite.

And so here he was, rotting away in a small, old flat in Chula Vista, about to, probably perish away and die from a heatstroke at the sweet age of twenty-one.

Steve grunts to himself, he’d kill for something icy cold right now but he doesn’t wanna get up from this filthy couch—and especially, he doesn’t want to enter the kitchen while Billy and that dark-haired neighbor of his do God-knows-what in there.

But he’s so hot.

Fuck it. Fuck Billy and fuck his neighbor.

Steve gets up from the squeaky leather couch in a clumsy move. He can hear their muffled voices as soon as he takes a few steps. She’s giggling at something Billy’s said, Steve can’t make out the what—Billy’s voice is low, reverberating through the walls. Ugh.

The flimsy, old kitchen door creaks as Steve pushes it open. He doesn’t even want to look at them but it’s kind of impossible not to when this is, like, the tiniest kitchen he’s seen in his entire life and they’re right there by the small window.

Billy’s smile fades when he lays eyes on Steve. The girl has turned to look at him too, and Steve suddenly feels like a lion trapped at a zoo, gazed at by stupid, brainless spectators—which is exactly what these two are to him at this exact moment. Stupid tans and perfect bodies, smoking by a dirty, pigeon-shat window, giggling and flirting and whatever.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #lu tries to write #i just found this unfinished from like idk back in september or the summer??? i can't remember #so better to post it even if it's not finished than having it around collecting dust #if someone likes it i guess i could continue it!!#i do need a bit of hype i'm a leo after all

64 notes · View notes

toruro · 11 months

Text

— ✧ the letter

i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l

tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough

fic playlist.

w/c. 26k

a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^

ENVELOPE

To: Xu Minghao

“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.

He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.

“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.

Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.

“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.

“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.

“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”

Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”

“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”

Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”

“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”

Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.

Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.

“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.

“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”

Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.

“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”

You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.

“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”

“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.

“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.

“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.

“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”

“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”

“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”

“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”

“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.

“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”

“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”

“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.

“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.

“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”

“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”

“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, “Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”

“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”

She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”

You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.

“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”

“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.

She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”

Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”

“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.

Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.

Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.

“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”

Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.

“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”

As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”

“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”

You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”

“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.

He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”

“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.

“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.

“Sprite!”

“Cola!”

Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.

“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”

Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.

“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.

“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”

“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.

“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”

“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.

“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.

“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.

“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.

“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”

You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”

Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.

The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.

“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.

“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.

“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.

The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”

“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.

“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.

“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.

You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”

“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”

“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.

“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”

“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.

You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”

“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”

“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.

“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.

“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.

When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”

The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.

When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.

“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.

“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”

“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.

Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.

“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.

“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.

Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”

“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”

“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.

Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”

“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”

It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.

“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.

“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.

“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”

“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.

And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.

“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“August.”

“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.

Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”

“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.

The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”

Jun nods. “We applied together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.

“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.

“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.

You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.

The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.

You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.

You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.

And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.

“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.

“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”

“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”

“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.

Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.

“Are you seriously okay? You look—”

“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.

“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.

“Jun told me about Korea.”

“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.

Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.

You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.

You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’

You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.

“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.

As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.

“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”

The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.

You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.

You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Minghao, after all, was leaving.

But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.

Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.

Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.

Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”

You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.

Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.

It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.

You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.

Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.

Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.

“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”

“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.

You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.

DEAR MINGHAO

I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.

When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.

I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.

I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.

Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.

Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.

It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.

It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.

Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.

“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”

“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”

“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”

“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.

“Oh okay, yeah su—”

“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.

The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.

“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.

“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.

“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.

When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.

“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.

“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.

He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.

“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.

“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.

“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.

“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”

“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.

“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.

The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.

Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.

You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.

And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.

Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.

When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.

“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.

“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.

His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?

You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.

You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”

“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”

“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.

“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”

“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”

Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.

“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.

“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.

“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.

As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”

“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.

“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.

“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.

Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”

“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”

“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.

“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”

“You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”

You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.

“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”

“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”

“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.

“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.

“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”

Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.

“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour��we hardly talked then.”

“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.

“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”

“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.

“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.

“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”

“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.

You give him a funny look. “What?”

“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”

“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”

“No! At least not without telling me!”

You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”

Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.

You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.

“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.

“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.

He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.

“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”

“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”

You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”

“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.

A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.

The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.

You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.

Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.

You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.

“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.

One ring. Maybe he’s busy.

Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.

Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.

Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”

Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”

“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”

“Send me your location.”

Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.

Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.

Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”

“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”

His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.

“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.

“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.

“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”

You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.

“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.

“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.

It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.

Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.

“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”

“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”

You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.

“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”

You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.

You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.

“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.

“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.

“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”

Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”

“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”

Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”

“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”

“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.

“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.

“You remember what I said?”

You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”

“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”

Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.

Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.

As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.

“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.

“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.

“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.

By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.

“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”

You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.

Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.

“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.

“I would, but I left my phone inside.”

“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.

When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.

“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.

“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”

Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.

And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.

“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.

Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”

“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.

“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.

“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.

You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.

It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.

“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.

“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“He sent me the video.”

“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.

“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”

You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.

Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.

You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.

The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.

So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.

He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.

With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.

Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.

Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.

It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.

“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”

“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.

“Are they those cupcakes?”

“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.

“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.

“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.

“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”

“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”

Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.

“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.

“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.

“Can you take some more candid ones?”

“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.

“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.

Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.

That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.

It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.

You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.

Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.

i’m a weirdo

Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:

ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!

As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.

i wonder who took these pics lol

No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.

imagine it’s his gf

You laugh to yourself. You wish.

The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.

The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.

It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.

You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.

As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”

“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.

“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.

“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..

“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.

A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”

“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”

“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.

“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”

“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”

“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.

“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”

Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”

“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”

Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.

“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.

“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”

“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”

“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”

“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”

You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”

Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”

Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.

Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.

“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.

“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”

“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.

You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.

“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.

Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”

“I—”

“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”

You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”

“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”

She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.

Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”

You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.

Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”

And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.

“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.

“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”

“Tried to … what exactly?”

You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”

Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”

“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”

“So basically fuck around.”

“Yiren!”

“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”

You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”

“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”

“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”

“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.

“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”

“You’re getting 25% max.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”

“Yiren!”

You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.

The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.

Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.

It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.

Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.

It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.

It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.

That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.

It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.

So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.

Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.

“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.

“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.

“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.

Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.

“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.

“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”

Oh.

Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.

Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.

No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.

You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”

“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.

“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”

You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”

Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”

“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”

“I let you know last week I was coming down!”

“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”

“But still—”

“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.

Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”

“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”

“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”

“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.

“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.

Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.

“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”

Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?

“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”

“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.

You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.

Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.

The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.

“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

“What are you—”

“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”

“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.

“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”

You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”

“I am not staying here tonight.”

“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.

When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.

You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.

You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.

“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.

You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.

Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.

“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”

“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.

The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.

All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.

You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.

And it seems Minghao isn’t either.

Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.

Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.

Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.

You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.

Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.

You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.

“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.

Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”

“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.

“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”

You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.

“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”

“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”

“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”

Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.

“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”

And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.

“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.

You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.

Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.

It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.

Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.

“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.

“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.

“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”

You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”

“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.

“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.

“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.

“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.

Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”

YOURS TRULY

you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]

When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.

“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”

“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.

“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”

“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.

“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”

“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.

“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.

“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.

You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”

“Yeah! That would—”

“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.

“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.

“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.

As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”

“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“

Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”

“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”

You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.

Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.

“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.

Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”

“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”

Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.

“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.

“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.

“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”

“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.

Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”

You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.

“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”

You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”

Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”

“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.

“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.

It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.

You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?

(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.

Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.

When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.

“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”

Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.

“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.

“I guess.”

“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”

“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”

“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.

“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”

“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”

“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”

A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.

Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”

The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.

“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”

“But are you okay?”

“Jun—”

“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”

You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”

“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.

“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”

“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.

“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”

“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.

“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”

“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”

“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.

You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”

“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”

“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”

“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”

“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”

“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”

“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”

You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“When do I not pay for you?”

“Loads of times!”

“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”

“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”

“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.

So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.

Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.

He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.

“Minghao,” you call out.

It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”

You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”

“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”

“Well yeah. And Jun.”

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”

“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”

“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”

“I know and—”

“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”

You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.

“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”

“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”

When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.

“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”

You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.

“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”

You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.

“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”

Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”

The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.

He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”

“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.

“Can I kiss you again?”

link to smut!

“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.

Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”

Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”

“Well, I don’t know but—”

“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”

You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”

“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”

“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”

“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.

Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”

“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”

Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”

“Yes—you got lucky.”

“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.

There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.

Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.

You’re happy. So, so, so happy.

Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)

P.S. I love you.

a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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mylittleredgirl · 10 months

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while we’re having the endless debate about sorting by kudos or not on ao3, i have to stump for my personal favorite way to find fics:

i basically always go straight to the “bookmarks” page for whatever pairing/tag i’m reading rather than the “works” page, and i literally just realized why: it lights up the same parts of my tumblr gremin brain as my dash does.

content hand-selected by people who are bookmarking shit for their own reasons entirely unknowable to me, so it’s a mix of quality peer review and user xyz’s to-read list

if you keep going back to it there’s a repetition over time as new people bookmark old fics. as a tumblr girlie my brain enjoys seeing Thing I Recognize

brand new fics often show up there if they’re good!! (equivalent: new posts tagged “investing at 5 notes”)

a lot of the top kudos fics keep showing up too because so many people sort the works page that way (equivalent: heritage post)

but so much random stuff shows up too that i would otherwise never find, thanks to the hardworking folks out there sobbing into the bottom of the tag at 4 am (equivalent: those posts with 56 notes from 2011 that somehow?? end up on your dash like bestie how did you even find that)

sometimes there are 30 bookmarks in a row by the same person who has a new hyperfixation and you get to think “good for them”

sometimes you get to recognize a username as someone having good or seriously bad taste

sometimes i see my own fics in the mix!! and get that little hit of positive attention (or neutral attention i guess, when people add a bookmarker tag like “it’s about [my fave character] but it’s ok”)

yeah! people can add bookmarker tags and their own notes! so sometimes people rec fics or add marginalia and their own sortable tags (but most people don’t)

there’s always that one fucking harry potter crossover fic with 194 tags in the mix (equivalent: manscaped ads you can’t escape). not saying this is a plus, but scrolling past the same long post you hate for the dozenth time is also an essential part of the tumblr experience.

re: that last bullet point, the one downside of the bookmarks page is that the filtering isn’t quite as robust as on the works page. you do have all the usual include/exclude filter options, but the very last section of filtering (crossovers, WIPs, word count, date range) is not available. (@ ao3 coders please i’m begging 🥺🙏)

anyway i’m sure the bookmarking economy is different across fandoms, but this will give you a semi-randomized feed of the tag, weighted toward new and popular fics (and, for better or worse, unfinished multi-chapter works and megafandom crossovers). it’s probably a good place to start for people who long for an algorithm, but unlike the usual user-targeted panopticon experience it’s more like the chance to rummage through strangers’ junk drawers for fic. tumblr vibes. you get me.

#will it make you a little paranoid about your own bookmarking practices? yeah but cringe is dead 🖕 live cringelessly 🖕#and for anyone who just learned this is a thing and is freaking out private bookmarking is always an option #ao3

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sirfrogsworth · 6 months

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FFFF: Froggie's Fuckin' Fancy Foray

In a previous post I was debating whether I should go to the Sam's near me, which requires a short 11 minute drive, but the path to get there is quite stressful due to traffic and construction and frustrating detours onto narrow side streets.

There was even a time when a bunch of signs got knocked over or removed and I accidentally went down an unfinished road that dead-ended into a pile of rocks. That was a fun moment. Especially when people stared at me as I did some improvised off-roading to get turned around.

Like I said... STRESSFUL.

Or I could head the other direction across the river into Illinois.

A scenic 22 minute drive with empty highways to a much nicer Sam's. The extra 20 minutes of total drive time is a lot, especially after all the walking required to collect my groceries. And I feared it would test my energy limits, since I had to go to Sam's and Schnucks to get all of the groceries I needed. Sam's is great, but sometimes I just don't need seven dozen of something.

I was having a decent energy day, so the scenic route won.

My plan was to go to Sam's for the bulk of my groceries and then drive all the way back across the river, past my house, and go to the Schnucks that stocks my favorite new fancy Fitz's soda. Which would add another 30 minutes of driving. Though I figured if I wasn't feeling up to it, I could go to Schnucks another day.

But as I stood in the Sam's parking lot holding a five dollar rotisserie chicken, an idea struck me... "Maybe there is a Schnucks near here."

I opened Maps and to my dismay, there was a Schnucks just down the street and for three entire years I never thought to check.

Literally half a mile down the street.

I think we are all familiar with the concept of chain stores varying in quality depending on the area they are located.

There is a Schnucks only 1.2 miles from my home. It is what I would call "tolerable."

Let's deem this location "TS" for Tolerable Schnucks.

TS is clean and has all of the essentials but they try to shove ten pounds of Schnucks into a five pound bag. It is cramped and poorly stocked and the lighting is somehow extra florescent.

They managed to squeeze in a decent deli, but that is where the niceties end. They usually have one register open even if the checkout line wraps around the dairy section. I have yet to find a less busy time to go. It's always filled to the brim with people—morning, noon, and night.

And, frustratingly, they rarely stock my new botique soda obsession, Fitz's.

I allow myself one occasional sugary treat to manage the cravings and I never know if they are going to have it.

However, if I travel an extra 15 minutes then I can upgrade to the Schnucks I would call "nice." So we'll go with "NS" for Nice Schnucks.

Weirdly the NS is near the "tolerable" Sam's (no acronym because that would be confusing with Tolerable Schnucks (TS)). They are only 3 minutes apart but the store quality difference is pretty drastic. If I have the energy, I will try to stop at both places in one trip since they are so near each other.

NS is a much bigger store than TS and they even have a bigger selection to go with that extra space. I have to get my fancy soda there because I guess TS figured "let's just fill the aisle with Diet Coke and nothing else." NS has a much bigger deli and full bakery and a fish person and even a quaint little floral department. They usually have multiple registers open and they stay open past 8pm so you can go when it isn't busy. The lighting is a little better, they keep things in stock, and they even have half-sized shopping carts that are easier to push if you only need a few things.

I thought that was the gold standard for Schnucks.

As nice as it gets.

But then I discovered this new Schnucks near the Nice Sam's and that assertion was about to be shattered.

Let me introduce you to the FFS.

The Fuckin' Fancy Schnucks.

The first thing you notice at the FFS is the front has well-maintained landscaping. Like, proper shrubbery.

That's fuckin' fancy.

The second you enter the store you are greeted with a fully staffed floral department.

It felt like if Valentine's Day could manifest a jungle. Brightly colored flowers everywhere surrounded by mylar balloons wishing people happy whatevers.

Then I turned the corner to see the biggest Schnucks of my life. With one entire side of the store dedicated to bespoke food items.

They got a deli. They got a bakery. They got a fish person. They got another fish person who just makes sushi all day.

They have an entire wall of prepared food items made at the store daily. Sandwiches and salads and pastas and full chickens. They even make their own frozen pizzas.

And then I noticed... the Meat Masters.

They have their own damned butcher on staff!

I found myself just going up and down all of the aisles and discovering new things the other Schnuckses never stock. The soup aisle was ridiculous. I was getting pretty tired and I was paralyzed by too many choices. So I decided to just get my normal boring soups and come back another time to explore the Fancy Soup Section.

The FSS at the FFS, if you will.

And the lighting was just so much more pleasant. It didn't feel like a 90s office building.

And look at that flooring. Did they hire an interior designer?

TS & NS just have generic square tiles.

I mean, I guess making some of them blue is something. But even the ceiling is drab comparatively.

And look at the TS Zapp's display compared to the displays at FFS.

I will say, TS takes much better care of their robot friend. FFS stuck their robot in a very undignified location.

This Roomba with a giant erection spends all day counting stuff and they stick him next to the men's room? Let him hang out with the Meat Masters or the fish people.

This is how a robot uprising starts.

The soda aisle was at the end of the store so I arrived there last. I was nervous they might not have my beloved bottled soda pop. Not only did they have it, but they also had 4 other flavors I didn't even know existed.

I guess you could say the FFS had an FFFS! (Fuckin' Fancy Fitz's Section)

I got that same feeling when you unlock bonus items in a video game. I don't know what the difference is between cream soda and "cardinal" cream soda... but I'm gonna find out!

Update from Future Froggie: It's fuckin' tasty!

So...

Future Froggie approves of Fuckin' Tasty Fitz's Soda from the Fuckin' Fancy Fitz's Section at the Fuckin' Fancy Schnucks and is sad Nice Schnucks and Tolerable Schnucks Failed Future Froggie with their Lacking Fancy Fitz's Soda Section.

Or...

FF approves of FTFS from the FFFS at the FFS and is sad NS & TS FFF with their LFFSS.

Got all that?

I loaded up the FTFS and my frozen pizzas and my non-fancy soups and headed over to the registers. They had 3 lanes open despite hardly anyone shopping at the time. I didn't have to wait in the dairy section for 25 minutes. So I justified that extra drive time and then some. Because standing in line is harder than sitting and driving.

So I guess I answered my question about which path to choose. If only I had known about the FFS earlier I would have forgone NS and Tolerable Sam's and just drove the extra 20 minutes across the Mississippi River to and from MO & IL.

On the one hand, it is kind of depressing that just like public schools, property taxes dictate the quality of vital stores in our communities. I mean, these are stores run by the same company. I know the physical property can necessitate some variation due to size and configuration differences. But it's clear they are pumping a lot more resources into the FFS. Not just more cashiers with a bagger on every lane, but actual experts in flowers and fish and baking and deli.

And who knows how much a MoM costs. (Master of Meat)

On the other hand...

We live in a society and can't fix capitalism overnight and all that.

I need my FTFS and FSS at the FFS, okay?

#long post

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david-talks-sw · 9 months

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An allergy to the Prequels

While I'm putting together a post about the evolution Lucasfilm's transmedia strategies, this part kinda turned into its own thing!

So I'm not sure if anyone else noticed, but, uh... there hasn't been that much Prequel content since the Disney sale, right?

'Couple novels and comics, some episodes... but nothing meaningful.

The more I look into it, the more it feels like a deliberate avoidance to touch on anything Prequel-related - beyond the required quota, that is - to a point where they'd rather tell stories set during periods that are Prequel-adjacent (Dark Times, High Republic) than something set around Episodes I, II and III.

On-screen policy: "pretend they never happened"

I mean, this one's no secret. When The Force Awakens had been announced, with J.J. Abrams at the helm, everyone sighed in relief. "Finally, George Lucas won't keep ruining the franchise."

When Abrams had been announced as the director of Episode VII, I remember this cringey animated video started circulating online, titled "4 Rules To Make Star Wars Great Again" or "Dear JJ Abrams":

“Star Wars isn’t shiny and clean... Star Wars is a western.”

If you ask me, those two things are not mutually exclusive.

'Cause Star Wars has always been both, for many Prequel kids. Both clean and dusty, Coruscant and Tatooine. There was never a disconnect between the Original Trilogy (OT) and the Prequel Trilogy.

Even the documentary The People vs George Lucas shows Prequel-hating fans begrudgingly admit their kids felt all six episodes tied seamlessly.

Abrams, on the other hand, said: "I think [the "Dear JJ" video] was right on." Later on, he also said:

he considered "putting Jar Jar Binks's bones in the desert" on Jakku, somewhere, and

he intentionally made the lightsaber fights "rougher", "primitive" and "more powerful" unlike the fast-paced ones in the Prequels.

Later, we found out he wanted to blow up Coruscant.

It's clear he wasn't a big fan of the Prequels.

But y'know what? Not many fans over 20 were, at the time. And when The Force Awakens came out, most them celebrated it as a wonderful love letter to the OT.

Star Wars is cool again. Mission accomplished 🙌 !

However movies keep coming out, and references to the Prequels - if there are any - are literally just that... references.

Sometimes in the shape of a cameo ("hey look, Genevieve O'Reilly from the Ep. III deleted scenes is playing Mon Mothma again!")

Sometimes in a name (Luke name-dropped "Darth Sidious"!)

But nothing set during the Prequel era, and nothing treating the events that happened in that period as relevant or impactful, beyond subtextual nods.

In fact, the trend of avoiding anything Prequel-related continues as the final film in the Skywalker Saga comes out:

The Rise of Skywalker has a secret Sith society that chants the name "Palpatine" instead of his Sith name "Darth Sidious",

the film pretends the Kaminoans never existed,

and neither TROS nor Trevorrow's Duel of the Fates script even try to bring Hayden Christensen's Anakin Skywalker back on screen. Let that sink in, we're talking about the Chosen One, Skywalker Senior, whose sins caused this whole mess... and his name isn't even uttered once in the final chapter of what Disney dubbed the *Skywalker* Saga (or the entire Sequel trilogy, for that matter).

But hey, The Clone Wars got renewed for one last Season! That's cool right? So many stories had gone unfinished and somehow the animation looks even better than befo--

-- oh. It's not 22 episodes? Only 12?

Four of which had already been shown to us, but hey! We need to set-up the Bad Batch series, so let's shoehorn those episodes in there, and forget Son of Dathomir, Dark Disciple or Crystal Crisis.

*sigh* Better than nothing, I guess.

In other mediums: "just not a priority"

Now this is something that I'll explore more in the transmedia post (and purely my interpretation), but the noticeable change between Lucasfilm's transmedia strategy *post-ROTS* and the one post-Disney sale is that:

Before, the games, comics and novels were the main content. After all, Revenge of the Sith had been released, so that was it, for the movies. Thus, a variety of other content was being cranked out to keep the Star Wars franchise relevant. There were comics set 100 years after Episode 6, comics set 25,000 years prior, games set in the Old Republic era, other stories in the New Republic era, novels galore, a couple of parody films and an animated show, The Clone Wars, which sometimes received its own tie-in comics, novels and games.

After the sale and ever since, most of the transmedia products have had only one goal: promoting the films & streaming shows.

So while in 2015 you won't see an abundance of Prequel content... you'll see an avalanche of OT books and comics come out.

Why? Because the heroes of that era will be in the Sequel Trilogy movies. It provided context to the kids who hadn't seen the OT yet, and reintroduced those films to a new generation of fans, while priming them for the Sequels.

A multimedia marketing strategy that ultimately proved successful.

However, it continued even after The Force Awakens came out.

Don't believe me? Compare how many comics there have been set during the Prequel era vs the OT era.

If they make comics about the Prequels, they're limited runs.

Case in point: before the current Yoda series, the best any Disney Prequel-set comic series ever got was 6 issues.

Note: it's worth pointing out that the frequency of mini-series aren't just a Star Wars-specific thing, it's a comic book industry thing. The readership for comics is dwindling, many people are reading scans online, and so no publisher wants to commit to a story that lasts more than 4-6 issues. My problem is: there absolutely would be readership for a Prequel comic series to warrant an extended run instead of a mini-series.

Let's talk books. There have been give or 64 canon novels published since the Disney sale.

Only 11 of them are set during the Prequel era. And even those stories only came out when the planets were aligned.

Almost half of them were released while being a part of some bigger multimedia push.

Example:

Before the Obi-Wan Kenobi series was being released on Disney Plus, we'd had one novel and like two comic stories about him during the Prequels... released between 2012 and end 2021. That's about three pieces of content in almost ten years.

Clearly a low frequency.

Then, when the series is around the corner, two books and a comic story comes out in the space of months, plus an anthology book with an alt cover with his face on it and a comic with a story of him and Anakin in the first issue, all in 2022.

My takeaway: short of there being a film or series that needs to be promoted, you'll rarely get any Prequel comics or books.

And this is OBI-WAN we're talking about. The character who even the Prequel haters love. Imagine how little attention the other ones get.

Gaming-wise, Battlefront had no Prequel content at all (again, 2015 was the year where OT content was shoved down the consumer's throats to prep them for Episode VII), and Battlefront 2 only released Prequel content a full year later.

All that being said, we did seen some Prequel elements here and there. After all, some actors got to reprise their roles, books and comics came out featuring Prequel characters... but there's a catch.

The stories they appear in are set in-between Episodes III and IV, a time-period known as "the Dark Times" or the "Imperial era".

"Dark Times" being used instead of the Prequel era

It's easy to see the appeal of this era. You keep the same threat from the Original Trilogy - the Empire - but redress it with Prequel elements... while also cherry-picking the best characters of both the OT and the Prequels and giving them a chance to shine again.

The situation is more clear cut, as opposed to the complex one in the Prequels. Bad guys are stormtroopers, good guys are anyone else. And the stories no longer take place in the shiny capital, you're back on the frontier.

But at this point... it feels like a cop-out.

When you consider how much content has been set during the Dark Times, it's nothing to sneeze at. Since the sale, we've had:

2 movies (Solo, Rogue One)

4 series set in that time-period (namely The Bad Batch, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Andor, and Star Wars: Rebels).

2 video-games (Jedi: Fallen Order and Jedi: Survivor).

17 novels (such as Ahsoka, Lords of the Sith, the new Thrawn books, etc)

And just a whole bunch of comic book series & mini-series (like Kanan, Princess Leia, various Vader-centric comics including Darth Vader: Lord of the Sith, many tie-in mini-series promoting Rogue One, Jedi: Fallen Order, Obi-Wan Kenobi, etc).

There's been so much content made for this time-period that it feels like an unwillingness to do the work and create something set something during the Prequel era, let alone something that follows its Jedi.

After all, why make a story set in the Prequels (disliked by vocal fans) when you can just take the characters in that story and put them in an OT setting (which will appease the Prequel-haters)?

Maybe these stories get relegated to the Dark Times because:

there seems to be a perception that anything set in the Prequel era won't sell?

or maybe the current SW writers weren't fond of Episodes I, II and III, and don't find those Jedi characters likable, thinking they're too righteous and dogmatic which makes it hard to craft a story around them.

Or maybe it's because they're under the impression that the Prequel Jedi are bad. Like, canonically, in the narrative. Not just in a "I don't like them" sense, but also in a "the story is all about them becoming corrupted" sense.

Let's expand on that last point.

Retconning the Prequels as the "Fall of the Jedi" era

Somehow the rare stories set during the Prequels that we do get seem to automatically be about how "the Jedi lost their way/failed".

The series Tales of the Jedi is explicit about it...

... and I already explained why it contradicts what George Lucas established here and here.

You also see it in Rebels and the new season of The Clone Wars...

... in comics...

... in games...

It gets to a point where the Prequels era has now been redubbed the "Fall of the Jedi" era by Lucasfilm.

You wanna know what that period was referred to before the Disney sale? The "Rise of the Empire" Era.

Because - and I'll never get tired of saying this cuz it's factual - the Prequels aren't about the fall of the Jedi, they're about the fall of the Republic and Anakin, and rise of the Empire and Vader.

So in addition to being overdone, the "Jedi lost their way" is not even the intended narrative of the Prequels (if one puts any stock in Lucas' words). It's a minor subplot at best, hardly the focus of the films, let alone a whole time period.

But dubbing it "Fall of the Jedi" implies that there's another era in which the Jedi were in their heyday.

Because Star Wars authors are in luck! Yet another alternative has presented itself in the shape of a new transmedia initiative, and it's even better than the "let's set it during the Dark Times" solution:

A new transmedia initiative: The High Republic

You wanna deal with the Jedi before the Empire, but for some reason you wanna avoid dealing with the ones seen in the Prequels?

Look no further. Meet the Jedi of the High Republic.

Noble, adventurous, inspired by the Knights of the Round Table, they're everything the OT kids dreamed about when they heard ol' Ben Kenobi talk about the Knights of the Old Republic.

That's more like it!

Note: the High Republic was created for other reasons and has many more upsides than the ones mentioned above. Namely, a fresh new spot in the timeline that allows for creative freedom and a beautifully-coordinated transmedia storytelling effort where retcons are non-existent. However it does seem evident that not having to deal with the 'unlikable' Prequel Jedi and their "fall" is one of those upsides.

Another perk that the High Republic era offers is more freedom in terms of storytelling compared to the Prequels.

In 2016, Pablo Hidalgo tweeted he still quotes to authors the following excerpt of West End Games' guide for aspiring Star Wars writers, from 1994.

You can't write "this was the best day in Luke Skywalker's life", for example, because another author may want to write a better day than the one you just wrote.

My guess is that a similar approach applies to how all characters from the movies are treated. They're massively iconic. So you can't write a book that drastically changes how Mace or Yoda or Obi-Wan are perceived overall.

The stories need to be self-contained, disregardable if necessary, because you'll have dozens of writers coming up with new stories for those same characters, and you need to leave them some room.

Examples:

Notice how in the book Dooku: Jedi Lost we never see how Dooku turns to the Dark Side and joins the Sith.

Same goes for crossover comic book arcs of the Star Wars issues, like Vader Down or Crimson Reign... the characters don't really change by much in those comics. You could stick to just watching the movies and you wouldn't really miss anything.

But with The High Republic, you indeed can develop these characters as much as you want.

All stories featuring Avar Kriss leave an impact on her, you can nail down who she is perfectly in one book or one comic arc, both being just as meaningful to her character.

The fact that she's not as iconic/famous a character as Mace Windu means that authors can go to town on crafting an interesting and nuanced character arc for her that'll have a beginning, middle and end... something Mace will never really get.

CONCLUSION:

Back in 2015... let's not kid ourselves. The Prequels were unpopular and Disney is a multi-billion dollar corporation. Opting to make as much money as possible is what they do.

It's the same reason they decided not to go with George Lucas' original plans for the Sequels, in 2012.

I mean, imagine you're Disney. You just dropped 4 billion dollars, with a B, on this franchise. Your next Star Wars movie needs to be worth the price tag. Now, you can pick between two options:

Option #1 is uncharted territory and it explores the midi-chlorians (the cursed word…!) and the guy who presented you with this option also openly admits that a big chunk of customers won’t like it, but he wants this to be done because it’s his vision.

Option #2 is very simple: a soft reboot, that plays on nostalgia that the same chunk of customers (aka the 'boomer and Gen-X fans who grew up with the Original Trilogy and now have kids, grandkids and MONEY) will like.

It's a no-brainer. They gave the customers what they wanted.

But time has passed, the fans who were children when the Prequels first came out have grown up, and grew up with characters like Yoda, Mace, Plo Koon, Kit Fisto and other Jedi as their heroes, aside from main characters like Anakin and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka.

Can we maybe expand on them, flesh them out more?

No, let's either ignoring the storytelling potential of these characters or reducing it to them being "righteous, arrogant and dogmatic".

God forbid we get a story showing the Prequel Jedi in a *gasp* more positive light? One where their POV is more understandable, instead of the same old "we brought this on ourselves" storyline.

There's a whole decade between The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones... you're telling me there's no space to show us Anakin's training and how he formed bonds with the Jedi we later see in The Clone Wars? I tried my hand at it here:

Interesting or fun Prequel-set ideas from other pro-Jedi fans on Tumblr can be found here, here and here.

And y'know, part of the Star Wars intent is for fans to take the ideas in the movies and come up with their own stories. You're supposed to create headcanons.

What I'm saying is fans of the Prequels are being given less "imagination food" than the rest, and many of us who like the Jedi in particular are forced to rely on headcanons only. "Better than nothing" is no longer an acceptable standard.

There's a range of recognizable Jedi characters that have already been established in films and TCW, can we maybe expand on them, flesh them out more, instead of whole new ones?

#jedi order #star wars #sw meta #long post #meta #lucasfilm #star wars prequels #prequel trilogy #sw prequels #high republic #the high republic #dark times #imperial era #the clone wars #tcw #sw negativity

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iamarealkat · 2 months

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Kind of couldn’t let humanity forget about this.

About Hannibal’s drawing pencils…(Decided to make a whole separate post about Hannibal Lecter’s drawing supplies to keep all the things I figured out after really attentive, extensive and obsessive research & viewing. Thanks to @existingcharactersdiehorribly for signal boosting my original questions! Sharing the fruit of my labours for the good of all Fannibals.)

1. Free range psychiatrist drawing habits

Hannibal DOES, in fact, draw with Tombow MONO graphite drawing pencils! (Originally, I just tossed the idea out there because these beautiful Japanese pencils seemed to fit his style, and it was an accurate guess.) These are professional drawing pencils, high-density graphite, strong point, smooth line. Hannibal has several at hand when he is drawing (which makes sense since his drawings have different values): in one scene, he’s shown with four different pencils while working on one sketch.

In case you want to sketch like Baltimore socialite Hannibal, this is a Tombow MONO.

He sharpens them with a scalpel (again, makes sense, a blade is preferable to a pencil sharpener for a better point).

Hannibal doesn’t seem to use a kneaded eraser, which is strange, nor have I spotted a blending stump (tortillon), but he has an ergonomically shaped triangular eraser. It looks like one of Faber-Castell grip erasers, the one Hannibal uses is the triangular shape but in a dark colour, possibly dark green (?). He also has a brush (to brush off the bits of eraser from the drawing).

2. Cooped up BSHCI resident drawing habits

Apparently Dr Alana Bloom provides Hannibal with quality drawing supplies. Unlike his usual set of hexagonal graphite pencils, Hannibal is seen with a single black round one. The lead is very black, suggesting a mix of charcoal and wax or charcoal and lead. It would have a soft matte finish. After squinting about 1001 times watching it roll over Hannibal’s table for half a second, I am certain it is Sanford Prismacolor Premier Colored Pencil, 935 Black, which is actually much more expensive than a single MONO drawing pencil (rough estimate: approx. $6.50 for 935 Black vs. approx. $1.50 for a Mono?). Alana is really pampering Hannibal.

In case you want to sketch like Hannibal in BSHCI, this is a Sanford Prismacolor Premier 935 Black.

(NB: Hannibal also uses a different pencil while in BSHCI, specifically, during the coversation with Alana about his insanity plea. The non-drawing tip is similar to the Tombow MONO, but I can give no definitive opinion yet.)

So far I haven’t been able to identify Hannibal’s drawing paper (loose sheets). He seems to use at least two types, one which appears heavier and with a warm tint (example), the other less heavy, smooth and prone to minor creasing (example), probably for looser preliminary sketches? But there’s also an unfinished study of a woman on a warm-tinted (or perhaps yellowed with age?), thinner, slightly creased paper (this one). Examples from NBC Hannibal site.

If you have any ideas about the grain, weight, tint, and brand of Hannibal’s drawing paper, or any observations of his use of erasers and blending stumps, please let me know! Or just chime in if you, too, care about Hannibal’s drawing supplies.

cc: trobador (banned I think?)

#hannibal’s sketching utensils #hannibal #hannibal lecter #tv series #art #fannibal #yeehaw peepaw #peepaw

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snowolf-69 · 1 month

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Who is that Ringmaster Rabbit antagonist? Can you tell me a bit more about him? He looks super interesting to me

I can tell you a lot lmao ( Long post 💀 )

Ringmaster is of course the main antagonist of the story ( I guess it’s more of an AU but shhh ). He’s not actively malicious but his actions does lead to horrible outcomes because he doesn’t have a proper concept of morality or ethics lol

Funnily enough he’s actually not a whole character but he’s actually only one half of a character

Ringmaster and Melody are both one side of an old character, Ringmaster is the more silly and entertaining side of the character who’s more concerned about entertaining the “ audience “ and Melody is the more human side of the character who inherited his doubts and all his negative feelings about certain things. The character ( I just call them toons lol ) used a machine that separated him into two more surface level versions of himself.

Ringmaster doesn’t think highly of melody but does listen to her on occasion if he thinks that what she says will mean more fun for him or what he perceives as the audience watching him everywhere he goes.

Ringmaster doesn’t like acknowledging his original past self that he and melody were before so he tries to hide all evidence that he is only one piece of a character. At first he was satisfied with hiding the origin of his existence until he started to think what if there are other toons out there who can also have a piece of them that can be taken out, He started to call those like him “ Hollows “ for lacking any life in their eyes.

Ringmaster has this sort of magical aura about him, the fact that he and melody can’t age but ringmaster holds powers that lets him do almost whatever he wanted but he solely used for entertainment, until he met Ace.

Ringmaster had been searching for toons with “ Hollows “ inside them, unfinished and hidden versions of the toons on the surface that with just enough work and force can be manifested to reality. He happened to encounter Ace when the Loonatics were doing their usual business in Acmetropolis when he sensed a Hollow inside of Ace, he was excited.

He wanted Ace to make a deal with him so ringmaster can see the hollow but Ace wasn’t too keen on making a deal with a stranger who seems almost desperate for this deal ( also he didn’t know what ringmaster was talking about when he said Hollow lol ) , this didn’t deter Ringmaster from wanting to see the hollow.

Ringmaster snuck into the tower the Loonatics have base in at night and attempted to teleport only himself and ace to the secret small world that ringmaster created but he unknowingly took in the rest of the Loonatics as well but they ended up at a different location in the world than where he and ace ended up.

Ringmaster used a modern version of the machine his original self used way back then as technology progressed rapidly. He suggested a more violent form of separation but melody, concerned for Ace’s wellbeing suggested using the old method with better technology under the reason of “ keeping it family friendly for the audience “. Since Ringmaster is convinced there’s always an audience watching, he agreed but does think that the old method will maybe only take out one hollow instead of separating ace entirely into two ( he was right )

This is actually how Buzz manifested into existence, he doesn’t look like his original self in the concept material one to one. He’s taller, lost his buck teeth and way more aggressive than his original self or Ace. Ringmaster was fascinated with this result so he decided to keep close tabs on the two, even after buzz took ace and left the building the machine was in.

Ringmaster has tried to do the experiment again on several toons which mostly result in failed experiments that look nothing like the concept or the original finished version. Sometimes he releases these aggressive beasts which causes trouble among those who haven’t been experimented on. He decided to bring in more toons to populate the small world that’s in eternal winter which is how more toons other than the Loonatics got in. There’s no way out of the world however unless the others find out how to deal with Ringmaster

The original toon didn’t like bugs so Ringmaster gained that aspect of his and melody’s old self, the two aren’t really aware of why they dislike bugs but they do.

Ringmaster is a man of entertainment but he’s not morally good at all lol

Also also funnily enough because of the original character’s original species, Ringmaster and Melody can count as Hare’s

#snow ramblings

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the-dixon-effect · 9 months

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When you know, you know Part 2

A/N: originally this was supposed to be a one-shot but I don't blame people for wanting a part 2 as my dumbass left it so unfinished 😭 thank you so much for requesting a part 2 my lovelies hope you enjoy it, thank you sooo much for 100 followers, it warms my heart knowing that many people enjoy my work!

era: season 10, post-Whisperers

pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: none my lovelies enjoy <3

part 1

The air was thick and balmy. It took everything you had to deliberately focus on your surroundings, knowing that if you zoned out, just for a second, your mind would corrupt over with foggy thoughts of Daryl. And you couldn't do that to yourself, not when your interaction had been so bitter, so scathingly cold. So here you sat, leant forward in your armchair with your arms crossed over your knees. You unwittingly gritted your teeth as your right leg tapped up and down at an increasing pace. Perhaps it wasn't just the knowing, it was the feeling. The feeling that things between you would never go back to the way they were. The idea that the one person who filled your heart was now breaking it. And the loss was turning into longing, a longing that stretched you out and diluted all your senses. And then, you realised why every cell in your body was overcome with Daryl, why no distraction could ever tear you apart from the idea of him.

You were in love with him.

You were in love with Daryl Dixon. And you're idly sat at home in Alexandria while he's out God knows where for God knows how much longer. There's a good chance he's not gonna come back, right? Not to you, anyway. Not with the way you ended things. He's probably walking out as far as he can go, decidedly avoiding you and your romantic crisis till he can bring himself to end things entirely. No, no. You can't think like this, it's unhealthy, you decide.

You fidgeted, wondering if it was better for you to continue your daydreams or cease them completely. Eventually, you found ways to busy yourself in and around Alexandria, however, no amount of cooking, hunting, or rebuilding could shake the unwavering heartache.

Daryl drifted through the remote Virginian forests without paying much attention to the direction he was travelling in. Unbeknownst to you, he had been suffering from the very same distraction and unshakeable regret. He remembered something that you said, and replayed it over and over again in his mind.

"Daryl, I'm in love with you, come home and start a family with me,"

Your tone had been distant and sarcastic, in a cold way that Daryl couldn't quite decipher. What the hell did you mean? The regrets that lingered in his mind were now telling him that he should've never left you. Not for Leah, not for nobody. He began to imagine how different his life might have been if he had made the right choices instead of the wrong ones, that led him astray from his own happiness. Waking up to you every morning, the early sunlight falling on your face and framing your pretty features. Going out hunting together, bringing Dog, maybe starting a family of your own, just like you'd said. How much you meant it, however, he didn't know. He'd have you all to himself, every day, every night. Even though he had convinced himself that he had destroyed whatever was left of your friendship, the idea of you still seemed so close, so special.

That's what happens, when you realise you love someone. No matter what happens, no amount of separation or disagreement or heartache can tear you away from the person you love. Eventually, you just make it back to them. Every time. Because the forces that bring two people together are stronger than any other force that exists. Some might call it God, others call it fate. The only thing that Daryl knew, however, was that the force that pulled him back to you was magnetic, and he could avoid it no longer.

So he set on his way, dredging in a direction that he half-guessed would bring him home. He had no idea what he would say, how he would fix things, but his pure determination rivalled that of a warrior heading to war. He gritted his teeth and failed to notice how his footsteps, that were previously quiet, were now aggressive and sharp on the forest floor. His pace quickened, and his awareness of his surroundings - and what might be lurking behind them - dropped. His mind was full of you, and though he didn't know it, his soul was too.

Returning to your home in Alexandria after the sun disappeared behind the walls, you flopped onto a leather armchair and rolled your head back in a state of disappointment. Not much to be done, apart from actively ignoring the one thing on your mind. Maybe you should talk to someone? Aaron, Rosita? You know they'd cheer you up, but you didn't want to talk to them right now. You only wanted Daryl. If only he was here. If only you hadn't opened your mouth that day in the cabin. You closed your eyes instinctively as images of him flashed past your eyelids-

Two knocks. Who the hell is at your door at this time of night? You repeated the sound in your mind and tried to determine who it might be, not particularly keen on dealing with other people right. It was gentle, yet resolute. Approaching the front door, you hesitated before slowly twisting the cold door knob and pulling it open. The sight you were met with had you stunned in your own doorway.

There was silence for a long moment. Daryl's blue eyes never faltered away from your own as you faced him. For a moment your mind was blank, empty of any trace of conflict with the man on your doorstep. A part of you was glad to see him, a part of you wondered if this was just a dream, and another part of you was angry. Angry that he had the nerve to show up here so bluntly. Crossbow slung over his shoulder, he towered over you with an unreadable expression. If only he would speak, you thought.

"Hey," he began. The faint glow from your porch light radiated on his face. He was half-covered in dirt and blood, but you failed to notice. All you saw were his illuminated features framed by his chocolate bangs and slightly parted lips. You could tell he had something on his lips by the way his brows furrowed and his forehead creased.

"'M sorry," he drawled, stepping a little closer to you. This was genuine. You didn't feel threatened or upset, but you realised that perhaps he needed a wake-up call and a little time alone to understand his true feelings.

"I'm sorry too.." you said quietly, not wanting to disturb the established peace by speaking too loud. "I said too much stuff that I didn't mean,"

"It's okay. Think I needed ta' hear it," his pretty eyes were gazing deeply at you now, and you bit your lip discreetly. "'M sorry I never apologised. For leavin'. Should never have left in tha' first place,"

"Thank you... for saying that. I'm glad you're home. You're my best friend, Daryl," you said softly, allowing a smile to creep on your lips.

"Best friend?" suddenly you realised just how close he was standing to you.

You stared up at him, wondering what he meant by his question and unsure of how to respond.

"Yeah... right? Or.." in that moment you trusted your gut instinct and relied on some of the earlier things he had said. His eyes widened and after a moment of staring, you leant up on your tiptoes and brushed your hand along his jaw.

"Or what?" he asked, allowing your touch and smiling a little in a way you hadn't seen before.

"You tell me," At this, he leaned into you and embraced your lips so sweetly that you'd never guess it could be hardy Daryl Dixon. He kissed you with such tenderness and passion that you could only reciprocate by snaking your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in even closer. Daryl's lips on yours felt like ecstasy and he tasted like wildfire. Sweet, sweet fire, burning you up on the inside and out. Swirling cinnamon and summer rain, it's addictive, just like the nicotine you can taste on his tongue.

Then he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. "I need ya' to tell me," you are breathless, and have to wait a moment to think, let alone respond.

"Tell you what?" you spoke, eyes narrowing in a combination of bliss and confusion.

"That ya' forgive me. I can't.. I can't do this if ya' don't forgive me.. I- I love ya Y/N..." he whispered softly, breaking eye contact and looking down at his shoes. You wanted to be surprised, to take it all in, but you had imagined him saying those things to you for so long. "'M so sorry.."

"It's... I think it's alright. I forgive you, Daryl. And for what it's worth, I liked you first," you chuckled.

"Don't bullshit me," you both laughed before he pulled you into another sweet kiss under the moonlight. You silently sighed in relief, finally glad to have him back. Glad that your prayers didn't go unanswered, glad that your instincts were right, glad to be in love with Daryl Dixon.

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verus-veritas · 1 year

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New Year Update

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you've all had some happy holidays together with your family and loved ones!

As some of you might have noticed, my blogs have gradually become more and more inactive recently. Both with my own stories as well as reblogs. I've been trying to post as much as I am capable of, but unfortunately, I don't feel that it is enough. Which is why I've decided to give you all an explanation on why, as well as what the future holds.

It's quite simple actually; my deteriorating health. Since the beginning of the last year (2022) I've been riddled with health issues and injuries. Whether it is a supposed incurable autoimmune disease or a shoulder injury from work, there's been so many problems concerning my own body this year. Headaches that last for weeks, swollen lymph nodes, blurred vision, aching muscles, numbness in my arms. You guessed it I've probably got it.

Even if I've been feeling better at times, I'm always left feeling drained and frustrated at the end of the day. I suppose that is what constant pain does to a person... As a result, I've never really had the motivation or energy to put into writing. At most, I've managed to write 3-4 shorter stories at times when I felt moderately okay.

As such, I've decided to take it easy this coming year. I won't be gone completely, but more just taking a step back. Perhaps I'll be lurking around, chatting with some of you, and even reblogging some of my favourite stories. Maybe I'll post some leftover stories from time to time...

I really do enjoy writing, as it is both an outlet for my "horniness", but also because I genuinely enjoy seeing and hearing about how much it inspires others to start their own blogs as well. After all, that was the reason why I started writing back then after the "Great Porn Purge", when the TF community felt dead and abandoned. Bringing the old classics and interactives back to life, I hoped it would inspire more to come forward and write their own takes on it.

Although I don't believe I'm the reason for it, I'm so happy to see all the wonderful writers that have popped up in our small community nowadays. Even those that only stayed for a brief period of time.

So I encourage you all to pick up your pen (not literally of course haha) and write your crazy and freaky ideas down! Who knows, maybe you'll come to love it...

Who knows if I'll ever come back to writing stories? Maybe once my treatments are done, which could last for a year or two, if not for the rest of my life... If I ever do though, I hope to be able to come back even stronger than ever. Lots of captions, spicy interactives, and tons of crazy ideas! (I have around 500 unfinished drafts haha).

For now, I want to thank you all for your continued support and I wish you all a happy and healthy (and horny!) 2023 together. I can't wait to see what amazing things will come for our beloved community!

With Love, Verus ❤️

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twila-star · 4 months

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Hey guys! Did you miss me?!

I'll admit I have been taking a much needed break from tumblr while I try to work on my unfinished WIPs to post. I have just been feeling uninspired and stuck so I've been working on the way I used to write and enjoy doing it too.

This includes little snippets and one-shots of aus I've thought of and wrote in an inspired frenzy, no editting, just raw, lol.

I don't know how much consistent activity I'll have moving forward but I feel like I'm making good progress with my creative block and hope to show all my new projects I'm working on now!

So here's one of my WIPs, au where there's a 'zombie' infection turning people into chimeras!

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Killua felt the chill roll down his back along the sweat rolling down his tense spine. Killua’s eyebrow twitched as he heard the click of Gon’s gun when he shifted in front of him and Killua reminded himself to be as still as he possibly could as he gazed at the broad span of Gon’s shoulders instead of the people beyond him. Killua could have snorted as he saw the red light reflecting off of Gon’s black leathers.

“Gon, move-” Pokkle started, in a reasonable, soothing tone.

“Shut it.” Gon growled sharply, and Killua had to hand it to Pokkle for keeping his cool in this situation but he’s sure that having a whole guard detail beside him helps with that. Pokkle breaths in a deep breath, Gon trains his gun on the movement smoothly, trying his best to put reasoning behind his words without escalating. It was why he was voted to be in charge of their little sanctuary group.

“Gon, you see what the indicator says,” Pokkle said, eyes firm but full of sorrow, at this point everyone knew everyone else intimately like family. “He is infected.”

Outside, somewhere above them, a chimera cry screeched like glass, sending a skittering of fear down Killua’s spine, ebbed by the fact he was still safe in their community bunker. For now anyway. The cry was right on time, tragically hilarious as though as reminder of the vicious monster Killua will soon turn into. The glaring danger they’ve all worked hard to protect and hide each other from. If Killua is going to turn into that, the answer on what to do next is obvious.

“No!” Gon’s voice boomed, his frame blocking most of Killua’s center from any shots the 6 guns pointing back in response to Gon’s one might do. Gon’s voice was adament in resolution, but Killua could hear how it shook. What he was scared of now, there must be a landry list Killua could only guess. He wished he could turn Gon around and ease him as he’s done a thousand times before. “Killua won’t turn into that. He won’t.” Gon’s head moved a fraction of an inch, as though he wanted to turn his head and check on Killua himself, but Gon definitely knows better than to take his eyes off who was in front of him. Killua knows them just as well not to make any sudden movements despite still being a sentient human, not a merciless chimera just yet.

“Gon, every instance we have ever had of someone being infected never results in anything other than them becoming a murderous chimera. You remember that last instance with Reina, and what happened afterwards was a disaster. You agreed for the best of everyone’s interest was to never let anything like that happen again.” Pokkle said, and pointedly looked up at their screening device behind them. It had two lights at the top, black marker written over the bulbs, human over the green light and ‘chimera’ over the red light. The one that was lit up now once Killua ran through diagnostics.

Gon’s arm holding the gun shook as though he was fighting against logic and his emotions. Only Killua’s eyes moved as he carefully regarded the back of Gon’s head, and gods he wished he could see what face he was making, figure out what he was thinking with just a glance in his eyes. They were close enough that they could practically read each other’s minds.

“That was different! THIS is different- Killua- it was never suppose to happen to someone I know!” Gon said, his voice raw and heartbreaking with emotion. “It was never suppose to happen to Killua.” Gon said, his voice gravelly low and Killua knew he was crying. Killua only allowed himself a small intake of emotion charged breath, still keeping with his self preservation instinct to be a still and unthreatening statue. He barely had time to let the knowledge of what this meant for himself- slowly losing his mind to a sickness that will cause him to kill anything that moves outside fellow chimeras (no, no killing, not again), Killua’s heart instead was breaking for Gon. Gon would at least still have his mind, left alone to long after Killua while Killua won’t remember a thing about Gon. He will lose his best friend, his everything, to a rampant pandemic creating half animal powerful monsters.

Pokkle’s eyes watered in a snap moment and a tear fell loose at Gon’s insistence. Killua didn’t dare his heart to flutter with something as dangerous as hope at the look in his eyes. Pokkle glanced left and right at the guards training their guns steadily on the two bunker valuable agents, and frowned, shaking his head as thought he only know just saw what was happening.

“G-Gon…” Pokkle’s voice broke and Killua saw Gon’s shoulders drop a fragment. It caused the tight coil in Killua’s chest to unwind a smidge in turn. “What would you have me do? He’s a danger to everyone here if he stays, he’s another dangerous number if we let him go. There is no cure yet. What would you have me do?” Pokkle sounds as stuck and shaken as Gon. Pokkle has his own burdens, his own people he needs to protect- and the one willing to make the most brutal of decisions to do that. Ponzu, Killua wondered if Pokkle was thinking what he would do in Gon’s shoes if it was his life partner Ponzu that triggered the chimera indication.

“Let us go.” Gon said. Us, he said. Not Killua.

“Gon…” Killua dared to speak for the first time since that terrible moment after his diagnosis, a panicked warning in his voice.

“Gon, that’s-” Pokkle started too, his eyes hardening again.

“Let us go!” Gon said again, louder and more determined, and Killua knows that tone. He’s been on the receiving end of Gon’s stubborn mind before. “I’m not leaving Killua and I’m not letting you kill him. We leave the bunker, you can keep everyone safe, and I’ll bring us as far away from here as possible so there won’t be a chance he can attack our usual patrols and scavenging spots.” Gon said, his voice resolute like he held the simple answer to everything. Pokkle’s frown eased but Killua was still beside himself. More so now that Pokkle seemed to be considering it.

“Gon, that’s a death sentence. You go with Killua, then when he changes, he’ll kill you. If you don’t die to the other chimera before or after.” Pokkle argued. If Killua didn’t know they would shoot him on the spot for it, he would jump forward in front of Gon and shake him by the shoulders and tell him there was no snowball;s chance in hell he was letting Gon do this.

“I…” Gon paused and seemed to have trusted he made enough progress with Pokkle to turn his head enough to meet Killua’s burning glare with one of his eyes, then back to the guard detail. “I love Killua. I don’t want this for him. If I need to, if he asks me to, if it comes down to it-” Gon said.

“That’s a lot of if’s Gon.” Killua hissed, livid.

“I’ll put him down myself. But I want to be with him.” Gon said, letting out a shaky breath, his shoulder’s tension finally loosened up. Killua bit his lip, a sharpened fang piercing his skin (was his teeth always this sharp?) and he made eye contact with Pokkle. He put as much pleading as he could into his eyes and shook his head slowly. Silently begging Pokkle to force Gon to let him go. If not just with a bullet through his head, at least to leave the bunker but to keep Gon here. Pokkle has dealt with Gon and Killua often as they are the number one agents to go out for scavenge and come back with the most results with the least possible setbacks or injuries. Pokkle knows Killua doens’t show a lot of emotion often, or even vulnerability, so he hoped Pokkle saw now that he was desperate as he poured his will to make sure tey stick to protocol. Eliminate infecteds. Keep the majority safe.

Even if Killua goes, the bunker still has a good bet with Gon helping to provide.

Pokkle took in his look and then regarded Gon. He closed his eyes, breathing in deep, and Killua knew he was about to make one of those brutal hard decisions.

“Fine. You both go.” Pokkle answered with a set eyes, eyes still glossy.

“What?!” Killua cried out, straightening up more as Gon sagged in relief before straightening up again and nodding, all business like he was given a package to deliver to an ally community. “Pokkle, you can’t be serious! I’m screwed but you have to save Gon! You can’t let him do this!” Killua said, and took his first step forward since he stepped out the machine. The guard’s guns raised again in alarm just as Gon turned and shoved a crooked arm into Killua’s to drag them back out past the machine.

“Gods bless.” Pokkle frowned, sad with a tragic frown as he watched Gon use his superior strength to muscle Killua out. Hah, he didn’t know tragic, if Killua ever got back here and got his hands on Pokkle, he was going to show him tragedy.

“Pokkle! Bring Gon back- He can’t stay out there with me! Gon-!” Killua cried and realized he was talking to the wrong idiot, because that idiot was only doing what this other idiot wants. “/Gon!/” Killua hissed, tripping over his own feet at the pace Gon was dragging him backwards. But it didn’t matter, he might as well have been being carried by Gon. “Gon, stop please, you can’t come with me! I’m sorry I was careless and I got infected but this isn’t your purgatory to deal with! Go back, please, we don’t know how this transmits, you could still be clean. Let me go and tell them you change your mind please..!” Killua cried, trying to find his footing to give Gon some kind of resistance but they were already up the stairs, the light of the door illuminating them. Killua barely recognized his voice as his own, it was pitched high in panic and desperation, and he was started to feel a rising frenzy in his chest to lash out and stop what’s happening, to protect his best friend. “Gon, at least look at me!” Killua’s voice cracked in a screech.

Gon stopped before they exited out to the decrepit streets above and whipped his head to glare at Killua. Killua’s chest pierced with cold shock as he sucked in a gasp and whatever words he was going to say. Gon’s face was contorted between rage and grief, tears streaks still on his face from when he was presumably crying in front of Pokkle moments before. His lips were pulled back showing gnashed teeth and sucking in gasping breaths, probably from exertion having to haul Killua physically up stairs while he was struggling against him. And Killua could see through everything, something he sees in Gon rarely and yet much too often, an emotion Killua always wants to wipe away from Gon’s face and bolster his strength- it mirrored what Killua felt in this moment.

Gon was terrified.

“/Don’t/…” Gon hissed, lowering his face closer to Killua, rage burning in those eyes. “Ask me something as impossible as that.” Killua pressed his lips together, his chest burning with so many emotions.

Now he knows why Pokkle let Gon go.

“Gon…” Killua whispered and he noted the wobble to Gon’s lip. Killua frowned, his heart hurt. He slowly shook his head. “I love you too…” He answered Gon’s earlier confession. They’ve never said it to each other before. Gon’s eyes widened, softer more liquid emotion pour into his eyes. Killua only took a breath before they were back on the same wavelength with each other, as always, and their lips were smashed together and their tongues delved into each other’s desperately, selfishly. They don’t know how long Killua has or if this will be the last time they can kiss like this. Killua’s chest roared with emotion and nearly overwhelmed him, but soon the ones that overcame every other emotion was love and affection for Gon. He was ruined and probably obsessed, and Killua realized Gon was probably the same way. Even if Gon stayed, he was as good as a liability, completely useless to the community as he either self destructed or lashed out and isolated himself from everyone after Killua left or died. The brutal decision Pokkle made was cutting down the community efficiency in half letting go both halves of the power agents.

Killua could barely process to feel bad for pokkle and the rest of the community when he just felt overwhelming relief that this terrible curse won’t be spent by himself but he’ll have his best friend to go through it with. They parted with heated, tentative pants. Killua’s etched Gon’s face into his very precious memory as Gon looked at him with those beautiful eyes he fell in love with.

“Together then…” Killua whispered and Gon nodded, trying to hold down a smile. Killua didn’t bother and smiled freely. They headed out as they did a hundred times, Killua watching Gon’s back and Killua at ease knowing Gon’s got his back, and kept to cover to avoid the chimeras.

#hxh #hxau #hxh au #killua #gon #Chimera au #Hunterxchimera #Hxc #Hunterxchimera au #chimera killua #no editting we die like men

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star-gazer101 · 1 year

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Ortho, Letters and Puns!

Part One Part Two Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Idia Shroud x Reader

Characters: Ortho Shroud and Idia Shroud

Warnings: OOC-ness, a few puns, and a little bit of cursing

AN: Sorry it took so long. I was originally going to post on Valentine's Day, but had a hard time with the chapter’s ending until now. Hope you enjoy!

- Out of all things Ortho has seen and experienced, seeing the highs and lows of others–playing matchmaker was not one of them!

It had been three days since he had last seen his brother back in NRC and already his brother was working non-stop to gain the Prefect’s affections just as soon as he got back.

Rows upon rows of internet forums asking about what was a good gift for a potential significant other and so many, MANY unfinished products scattered across his desk that it became too much to bear!

Wasn’t the custom dorm uniform enough?!

“Brother, maybe you should take a break from this. You’ve been wearing yourself thin, more so than you usually do…”

“I just can’t Ortho!” Came the usual reply. “If I can’t find something they’re bound to like, they’ll come to realize just how pathetic I am and never talk to me again!”

And that’s how these past few days have been: Difficult to the very end.

The young Shroud had suggested a different method of courtship that he had heard from a fellow, loud, first year, and then suddenly regretted it when Idia actually decided it was the better option.

Him and his big mouth! But he cared for his brother too much to say no…

Now here Ortho was; designed to fit the theme of messenger boy, to deliver letters to Ramshackle Dorm.

Fortunately, the Prefect found him adorable as they accepted the message. (And promised to hang out once this job is over.)

Unfortunately, Grim would sometimes open the door. He really did not want to think about that incident ever again.

Thankfully there had been more upsides than downsides to this situation. However, he did wonder what his brother had sent them.

A poem perhaps?

Probably not. Idia is terrible when it comes to writing poetry.

“Here Prefect.”

“Oh, thank you Ortho! It’s always nice to hear from your brother whenever I’m away!”

“And big bro feels the same way! Hopefully you’ll have time to visit?”

“Not at the moment I’m afraid. The Headmage has me in a chokehold and won’t let me go until the work is finished. So…Maybe tomorrow afternoon? Just promise me to save me a spot at lunch with the others. It’ll be awhile before I’m done with whatever the hell he has on my ‘to do list’.”

Ortho sighed for what felt like the tenth time since he last saw you. And just as he promised, he made sure that there was a reserved spot as the other fellow first years joined him. Everything seemed perfectly normal…

Until Ace noticed he didn’t have his school uniform design on.

“So, Ortho. What’s with the lame get up? It’s even weirder than Loosey Deucey when he has to feed the flamingos.” (Which quickly earned him a kick to his leg by none other than Deuce himself.)

“Don’t insult my brother’s work,” Ortho warned with a glare. “But I have to agree with you on it. It does feel a little embarrassing,” he added with another sigh.

“Sounds rough.” Ace could not help but sympathize. “So what did you do to piss off your brother?”

So in the end, Ortho explained everything. From the delivery of messages and his dilemma of wanting to help his brother, but not wanting to continue being his delivery boy. There was a solidary of understanding between all of the first years at that moment. And Ortho for the first time felt relieved.

“If you really feel that way, I think it’s best if you tell him. Don’t beat around the bush, just get straight to the point.”

Guess there’s no way of avoiding it…

“I’m really sorry, Ortho.”

In the end, Ortho didn’t have to say much. Just by expression alone, Idia could tell how stressed he was when he got back.

Was this the gift of discovering new emotions?

“It’s okay, brother. You didn’t know.”

“Of course I didn’t! But I should have known better! How am I supposed to be your older brother if I don’t notice how exhausted you are?”

“Idia.” Ortho had to put his foot down to get his message across. He almost felt bad for startling his brother. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. Otherwise, you’ll be back where you started when I first came in. And I really don’t want to start this conversation again.”

There was a brief pause until Idia finally responded. “You’re right as always, Ortho. I’m sor–I-I mean…Okay…Got it, cool.”

A relieved sigh was given from the younger Shroud. It’s good that his brother was learning. “Thank you for understanding big bro. And now that that’s settled, how about I take a look at your progress of the Prefect’s letter!”

“E-eh?! Ortho wai–”

Did you hear oxygen and magnesium got together? O Mg.

What did the science book say to the math book? You have got problems!

What type of fish is made up of two sodium atoms? 2Na!

…

WHAT?

“Idia, have you really been sending the Prefect bad science puns the whole time?”

Idia let out a nervous chuckle, a hint of pink showing up in his blue flames. “I-it’s pretty normie levels for my taste, but they seem to like the cringey ones the last time we hung out. I was just going to send them cat memes, but I don’t think they would get the joke after being isekai-ed and all–”

“IDIA SHROUD HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!” Okay, maybe he was overreacting, but at this moment Ortho was too upset at his brother for being an idiot to care how loud he was being. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO CONFESS TO THEM! I EVEN WORE THE STUPID OUTFIT AND EVERYTHING AND YOU STILL DIDN’T SAY THOSE THREE SIMPLE WORDS?!”

Knock. Knock.

“Idia? Ortho? Is everything okay in there? Did I come at a bad time?”

“Shit! Player 2 is already here? I-I haven’t even finished the letter!”

Quietly counting down, the younger Shroud calmed himself down as his red flames died out and became a warm blue. Right, now was not the time for petty arguments. The Prefect is what matters, not them.

“Leave it to me, brother. Everything’s fine, Prefect. You can come in.”

And with those words said, you awkwardly entered their room. Judging by your messy appearance, it seems like Crowley had put you through hell and back from the last few hours Ortho had seen you.

Maybe he could convince his brother to blackmail the headmaster for you. Definitely keep that idea tabbed for later.

“I didn’t think I would see you again so soon, big sib! Are you actually done with your work?”

You gave off a bitter laugh. “I wish. Turns out all the janitors are all on strike and now Crowley wants me to do their work as well! I should have known things today were too nice to be true…Anyway, I just came here to let you know about my whereabouts before I take my leave. And I think I’ll stay over at your place to crash when I’m done. Is that okay with you Player 1?”

Idia was hesitant. “Not that I’m against it, but isn’t janitor work a magic based job? Our headmage can’t just put all that expert level stuff on someone with a handicap, especially one with no magic!”

A tired sigh. “Y’know, this isn’t the first time I worked as a janitor…Probably won’t be the last…”

Ah, that’s right. It was almost half a year ago that there were rumors running around about a magicless person turned janitor and a couple of first years causing chaos that resulted in a broken chandelier.

It only seemed like yesterday before he enrolled in NRC.

“...Ortho, initiate ‘Plan E’.”

“Got it!”

“Plan what now?”

“Don’t worry about it, big sib! Just leave it to us. Try not to resist.”

Before you even knew it, you were suddenly grabbed by the younger Shroud and were quickly bundled up in one of their softest blankets and placed on their less messy couch. Not that you’re complaining, but you still felt worried about the rest of Crowley’s work. “B-but what about–”

“Sevens, you worry too much. Ortho, the hot chocolate! Make sure it’s the one they like! I’ll take care of the rest.”

Guess he didn’t need to remind him after all. Progress.

Ortho carefully handed you the hot beverage as you quietly removed yourself from the covers. At least you were now smiling with fondness.

Just like the first time you had entered Idia’s secret lair. How nostalgic.

“I take it that ‘Plan E’ means: ‘Operation: Pamper the Prefect’? If so, then I think it’s working.”

“Something like that. Big bro tried all different kinds of names, but they all came out too long. So, we decided to stick with ‘Plan E’.”

“Probably for the best,” You muttered while stifling a yawn. Ortho took notice.

“Just try to relax, Prefect. And make sure to drink all of your hot chocolate as well. If you feel up for it, we can play some multi-player games.”

Ortho continued to say more, but all of your thoughts were focused on the eldest in the background, typing furiously on his computer as he downed a can of his energy drink. If your guess is correct, he was definitely finding ways to stop the headmage from giving you too much work.

You really don’t deserve those two…But you are glad to have met them…

“How are they, Ortho?” Idia finally asked.

“Out cold.” Answered Ortho. “After finishing their drink, they passed out from exhaustion. I advise a hearty meal with lots of water once they wake up.”

“Guess I’ll try ordering from Woodcutter’s Café again. They never did get back to me on how they lost our limited edition dinner…You wouldn’t happen to know, do you Ortho?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, big bro.”

The eldest sighed, dropping the subject as he focused on you. “Did they say anything else?”

“Not much. But they did want me to give you this in response to your letters.”

“T-they did?” Idia took the letter from his brother and quickly read its content.

Ortho shook his head as he already knew what the letter reads.

How do geologists ask each other out? They say, “Are you a carbon sample? Because I’d love to date you.”

And if his brother had half a brain, he would know that he’s being confessed to.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud #ortho shroud #reader insert

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anincompletelist · 5 months

Text

2023 year in review :D

THANK YOU @kiwiana-writes for always including me <3 I adore you and it was so much fun to see all that you've accomplished this year!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. There are no rules!

233, 369 words published to ao3 (+ like another 80k depending on when bridesmaids is posted hehe)

2 published fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (book), One Direction (soldouthaz)

most recent work: this guy, the prequel to this dude <3

longest published fic: (for rwrb) praying our bridges don't make waves (82k)

longest published oneshot: Sure As the Stars in the Sky (20k)

bridesmaids is currently at 75k

hitman au is currently at 15k

speak easy / poet henry is currently at 20k

diabetic alex au is currently at 7k

part two of this fic (dom!alex) is currently at 5k

+ about another 60k of random drabbles and unfinished snippets

but if you could see us from a distance, you'd know I've always been so close to you (E, 10k, 743 kudos)

Objectively, standing half-soaked from rainwater with a stitch in his side and an uncomfortable, raging hard-on outside his worst enemy’s door is not Henry’s finest moment. It’s not even on the list. [or, henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, alex claremont-diaz, can touch him.]

praying our bridges don't make waves (E, 82k, 642 kudos)

When June gets sick, Alex knows he'll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets the care that she needs. Even if that means convincing his nemesis/sexuality-crisis-inducing/clandestine hook-up partner/somewhat of an actual friend to pretend to be his soulmate in order to pull it off. It's both more and less complicated than it sounds.

I'll bet it all on me and you, I'll bet it all you're bulletproof (M, 11k, 527 kudos)

“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common senseskills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

total kudos: 4,495

total comment threads: 449

total bookmarks: 1,922

total subscriptions: 292

total word count: 223, 369.

total hits: 53, 676

firstprince first kisses (6 works, 57k, incomplete/ongoing)

the place lightning hits ground (1 work, 12k, incomplete)

everybody needs someone (2 works, 24k, completed)

current wips that have word counts:

bridesmaids au

hitman alex

poet henry

diabetic alex au

truman show au

boxer alex au

soft dom henry for this series

part 2 of soft dom alex for this series too

current wips that are on the to-do list:

happiest season au

rival wineries au

alex is medusa, henry is midas

museum guide henry / substitute teacher alex

+ sooooo many little unrelated one shot and drabble ideas and more for this series

I just posted this fic earlier today:

take my hand if you can take me as i am (E, 14k)

It would hurt less, Alex guesses, if he wasn’t head over heels for the guy he’s supposed to be fucking through an ancient one-sided sex curse with that was partially — a lot, actually — his own fault. But. It’s not like there’s a fucking handbook. Alex has looked.

and bridesmaids is in the final stretch and will most likely begin posting early january, if not the end of this month!

my ao3

my spotify

tags:

general fic recs + reblogs

my rec lists

fic rec fridays

my wips + updates/snippets

my edits

oh boy okay first off PLEASE DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO DO THIS but also I would LOVE to give all of ya'll a chance to brag on yourselves if you're up for it!

so consider this an OPEN TAG but also @affectionatelyrs @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @raysletters @heybuddy-drabbles @rockyroadkylers @sparklepocalypse @zwiazdziarka @littlemisskittentoes @getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery and anyone else who would like to do this! pls tag me so I can come scream at you (affectionately!)

I'm so ridiculously grateful for you guys and for this space to create and connect in, and I can't wait to take all of this lovely energy into next year as well. I'm so excited for everything we all have coming! :D

I hope you guys are all doing well!

-sarah / anincompletelist

#about me #my fic #fic recs #year in review #wips #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince

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genopaint · 1 month

Text

This should be Week 9 of Daily Dragons! Apologies for the delay on updating this but I've been incredibly busy and stressed due to moving. And while things haven't settled down per say I am no longer on a time limit to move out so hopefully I can have the ball rolling on the daily dragon challenge a little better!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #56 - Fygar

Another cute, arcade dragon! Fygar was always one I was gonna do eventually, and I didn't have a huge oomph to draw tonight so I figured this was a perfect opportunity for a simple one! Tried to do a new take on it inspired by a few different designs :)

i know ive been posting these all so late into the evening, apologies, im all over the place lately lmao also, am i nuts or didn't there used to be grey fygar? i couldn't find ANY sprites of them so I guess I made it up. Oh well

Daily Dragon #57 - Percipitar

A mollusc-like dragon that swims through rivers and ponds, slurping up water to bulk up its pouches, then turns that water into clouds for fighting and hunting! Their shell is very hard, but the yellow flesh is VERY soft and gooey.

Since the last few were all redraws / fanart, I really wanted to make a brand new one today! Originally this was gonna be a poison mist spewing dragon, but I couldn't decide on a color/effect for the poison. And I eventually thought just regular water and mist powers were a little more interesting because we've already had a few poisonous dragons or dragons that spew stuff that has effects on enemies. Note to self, stop making dragons that produce some kind of toxic or mist???

Just for fun and some background because I have it here, this is the unfinished version of the picture when I was making it poisonous instead. I changed it at the last possible moment lol

Daily Dragon #58 - Mega Charizard Z

"Its head splits into 3 to become a menacing Hydra. While its brain power is divided in this form, its fire power becomes multiplied!" Not sure what type I'd make it? Maybe Fire/Fairy or Fire/Electric or something idk

Also I already have ideas on how I would maybe tackle this design a little differently so, maybe we'll see Mega Charizard Z 2 in the future

Daily Dragon #59 - Feral Cave Dragon

My brother found some ANCIENT art of mine in an old book tonight, so of course I had to redraw all the characters on it!

This is, as I'm sure you can tell, an old bookmark! From back when I used to read... Horrifying times! My brother said he found it in a book I was reading around 2011 or so?

Daily Dragon #60 - Dragon Girl Green

This fun little dragon is February's most popular dragon as decided by vote!! That means she gets new art! Soaring through the sky and flying by some migrating birds! Seems like she's having a magical day~

My personal favorite from February? There were a LOT of dragons I actually really liked. But ultimately I'm just really smitten with Percipitar! Been a rough month! March is gonna be rough too but we will get through it! Thank you all so much for your continued support!

That means there's like... 305 days left? 306 cause of leap year??? Roughly 300

In case you're curious about the votes:

Dragon Girl Green - 6 votes Three Frilled Clovradon - 1 vote Percipitar - 2 votes Howl Gravwyrm - 1 vote Shellizard - 2 votes Succubusaur - 1 vote Shelldrogon - 1 vote Dragostein - 1 vote Floofizard - 1 vote Neck Lizard - 1 vote

Daily Dragon #61 - Rawrnosaur

A large, feral dragon with some odd properties. It has chameleon-like eyes, salamander-like skin, gecko-like tail, and a long lizard-like tongue. They're often found in places with more humid climates and eat tons of food constantly!

This is yet another redraw of an INCREDIBLY old monster of mine! This one is even older than the Feral Cave Dragon (which I found out is from 2011-ish) as this would've probably been before I was even in Kindergarten. Crazy stuff!

The original was found while we were helping my grandma clean her house, which is cute. Some things never change, I've been a reptile fan for life! I'm actually SO happy with how this redesign came out. I might have to go through and color it in later!

Daily Dragon #62 - Mountain Dragon

This dragon lives high on mountain tops, where it makes its lair. It rarely comes down to ground level, only occasionally to find shiny things to add to its horde or when food on the mountain becomes scarce. As such, they're a bit rare.

Been having a stressful week, so I haven't been having a lot of original ideas for dragons. So this is another redraw. This dragon from 2023 was just called "random dragon" in my files. So there wasn't much to work with aha

#dragon #dragons #dig-dug #digdug #fygar #pokemon #mega evolution #mega charizard #creature design #character design #monster design #my stuff #oc #fanart #fan oc

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sweettoothedtrickster13 · 7 months

Text

How to Start a Commonplace Book

Since I have zero desire to start a YouTube channel or a separate website blog, I guess I'll throw this here.

What is a commonplace book?

It's a simple question with a different answer from anyone who keeps one and/or knows what it even is. In very basic terms, a commonplace book is a physical book where you write down quotes you find interesting. That's the extent of what some people do, but I say take it a step further. Add your thoughts on the quote. This helps in a few ways- it helps put the quote in context in your life, and it trains your brain to really think about what you find interesting.

Why a physical book?

There have been tons of studies about handwriting vs typing, but really I can only give you my own experience. I really like the act of writing longhand. It helps cement things in my memory and gives me an actual record of my life. I can look through old notebooks and see what was important to me at that time in my life.

Another reason I think a physical commonplace works better is that it takes time. And that's the point. Re-writing a quote and then your thoughts forces you to slow down and examine yourself to see why you react the way you do. And slowing down in this age of super-fast information is something I think most people would benefit from.

How do I keep one?

Take a notebook- any one will do- and a pen. It doesn't matter if you choose a super fancy $300 notebook and a fountain pen, or a composition book and a ballpoint pen. If you want some cheap options until you find out if you even like the process, I suggest hitting up your local school supply store and getting the cheapest notebook and box of pens you can find. I prefer black ink, but you do you. I like Bic ultra round stick grip pens, but again you do you. The best pen I've come across is the click pen I got for free when I voted. So really any pen will do. You might have to experiment a bit to figure out exactly what you like as you go along. If you want some other advice, I recommend checking out this post. Fair warning, I haven't checked out the brands listed because I have a truly ungodly amount of unfinished notebooks hanging around.

Then you need a source to pull quotes from. You can use books, podcasts, youtube videos, friends, family, countrymen, movies, TV shows. Anything that strikes your fancy and contains quotes that resonate with you in some way. Don't worry about if it isn't 'scholarly' or 'high brow' enough*. I've had quotes from children's cartoons stick with me.

*and 'enough' is really a stupid term because really it only has to matter to you. Fuck everyone else, they shouldn't matter in terms of how you judge yourself. If you like it, that's reason enough.

Why should I keep one?

Expressing any thoughts to yourself and self-examination is a hard process but a worthy one. Only through self-examination will you figure out who you are and what you believe. And figuring that out is crucial, because it's so much easier to just absorb the qualities and thoughts of the people around you instead of standing on your own two feet. Knowing yourself deeply and truly means that you can control your own future better. When you really know yourself, it's really hard for people to try to convince you to do/think something that is antithesis to who you are/who you want to be. Knowing yourself is the first step to knowing who want to be at all. At least in my opinion.

How do I even start?

I recommend your favorite media. As I said before, I don't care if it's a book or a cartoon. Consume it again, and really pay attention to which parts you like. Write them down in your notebook and examine why you like it so much. It will feel weird and awkward and hard at first. You'll automatically want to stop. I say give yourself at least a week of doing this regularly to decide if you want to continue or not.

I also suggest pulling from more than one source of media- if you read a lot of books, try podcasts. If you like TV shows, try movies. Just diversify your intake. You don't have to branch into genres you don't like, but knowing how different media can accomplish different things is a worthwhile endeavor to me.

What if I don't have any thoughts on the quote/can't pin down why I like it?

Leave a blank space after the quote. You might not be able to examine the feelings now, but there will come a time later where you will. The subconscious is a miraculous thing. Often, writing down the quote helps your brain recognize that it's important and worth thinking about. Don't ever feel bad for not figuring it out right away. It will take time.

How do I keep up with the habit?

It doesn't matter if you come across a good quote every day or every week or once every ten years. Just keep your ears and eyes open, and you'll find good ones along the way. And when you find them, write them down.

My commonplace book isn't as pretty/organized as other people's. Why bother?

Fuck others commonplace books. Take inspiration if you want, but your commonplace is just that- yours. You don't have to add drawings or keep an index or have a theme if you don't want to. Just the fact that you are thinking about what you consume puts you ahead of the pack.

Other thoughts

Starting a commonplace book is one of the things that helps me know myself, other than journaling. Both are good in different ways, and I might do a journaling post in the future. Taking a close look at why you react the way you do to certain things is the best way to figure out what the purpose the creator of the media had when they created it. Propaganda isn't just in the news- it's everywhere. Taking the time to examine your reactions to others' words is the best way I've found to recognize it. And if you don't want to go that deep, that's fine too. Consider it a way to keep your favorite quotes close.

So happy commonplace book keeping.

#real life adventures #commonplace book #about writing

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