#i feel like when we were kids our parents shipped us together

[bluriki]

i could actually live childhood best friends to lovers

... i just need to get his number first

#‎ ‎ ‎ ‎୨‎ ‎ ‎ with spam‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹ #maybe im delusional #but... #i saw him not too long ago #he gave me a hug and stuff #i mean not that he liked me #bc we hadnt seen each other for years #but i have my charms... #(i really dont) #he lives close to me too #im just scared to ask for his number #what if he thinks im weird #what if... #no no anyways yeah #i could live a childhood bestfriends to lovers trope #and i here for it #i mean my parents like him too #we literally grew up together #i feel like when we were kids our parents shipped us together #IM SO DELUSIONAL HELP ME #okay bye bye

[rrxnjun]

potential • z. chenle

pairing. zhong chenle x fem! reader genre. rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive. word count. 20k (20.079) warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual activity, sexual innuendos, a heavy make out session or two, use of lyrics from ariana grande and sarah close and masking them as my own words a/n. why do we call it a rich kid chenle au when he's a rich kid irl. anyways for the fact that this was one of the most spontaneous fics ive ever written it sure did take a lot of time to execute. took a lot of inspo for the lifestyle from the sky castle kdrama so if its not accurate dont @ me bc ive never been rich LMAO

playlist. in my head – ariana grande ; successful – ariana grande ; nonsense – sabrina carpenter ; supermodel – måneskin ; that's what i like – bruno mars

You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

August 28, 2020 – somewhere in the Bali sea, 1:27 AM

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

Wrapping up the summer before your senior year, dancing around in the bar of the cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, one last stop before your 28-day cruise around Southeast Asia is over, the loud music from the bar rings in your ears as you dance around, a glass of expensive Mendis coconut Brandy swirling in your hold. The taste of the alcohol on your tongue burns, not quite used to the burning sensation in your mouth– this is one of the first times you’re drinking, since your parents were always big on prestige and acting classy. Your parents went to sleep, though– excited to explore Benoa tomorrow, to immerse themselves in nature and explore Bali’s temples and heritage. You, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to party– accompanied by none other than your parents’ friend’s son, who grew into the position of your childhood best friend solely because his and your family have always been close, choosing to spend vacations together; a relationship that was mostly fueled by the immediate closeness of you two during the summer breaks and ski trips to Swiss Alps every January.

And while you’re no stranger to pearls, charity events in your parents’ mansion in Hong Kong, golf courses in Miami and fashion shows in Milan, growing up in the world of designer bags and prestigious titles, you feel quite stranded in the middle of the sweaty teenagers, all of them with the same social status as you, drinking expensive alcohol and swinging your hips to the EDM music playing through the speakers. It almost feels like this is the first time you’re able to enjoy yourself without anyone’s supervision, screaming at the top of your lungs into Zhong Chenle’s face as he laughs at you on the dance floor, and truth be told, you could care less about the pictures you’re going to take for your Instagram tomorrow, showing everyone just how good you’re doing and how much fun you’re having on your lengthy cruises around the continent, because somehow, even though the bar is clothed in gold and you feel a bit like in The great Gatsby, this feels like the least pressuring part of the whole trip.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do. 

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because. 

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor. 

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight. 

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair. 

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place. 

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space. 

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed. 

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…? 

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours  of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn’t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea. 

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station. 

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did. 

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory. 

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront. 

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again. 

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase. 

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18. 

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court. 

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend. 

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way. 

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game. 

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years. 

“What about you?” 

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before. 

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much. 

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac. 

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob. 

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road. 

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck. 

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect. 

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next… 

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again. 

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech. 

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun. 

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport. 

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass. 

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago. 

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression. 

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips. 

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it. 

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety. 

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know. 

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him. 

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals. 

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?” 

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?” 

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms. 

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn’t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I���m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction. 

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off. 

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all. 

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair. 

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips. 

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side. 

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time. 

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid. 

But for a second, he acts like he is. 

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.” 

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?” 

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair. 

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?” 

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused. 

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding,  “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie. 

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess. 

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair. 

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness. 

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?” 

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion. 

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?” 

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future. 

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal. 

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would. 

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head. 

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it. 

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that  even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out. 

And he doesn’t.

And you pray that one day, he’ll find the purpose in all the potential he holds in his hands.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct x reader #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle oneshot #chenle fic #chenle imagine #chenle fanfic #chenle best friends to lovers #chenle au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct angst

[fullyinconsequential]

Here’s a 3am Steddie rant I think every Steddie lover (and possibly hater) should hear. I have no goal to convert anyone—just to say that the ship did not actually “come from nothing.” Here’s why:

I don’t understand how there wasn’t Steddie foresight in the writer’s room.

So they play it up in season 3 like Steve just can’t get the girl and when he does she’s not the right girl and yada yada yada—cool beans. I love his character arc with Robin, their friendship, her queerness. I love their entire bathroom interaction.

Specifically: “It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school. Maybe cuz Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me, or I wouldn’t be prom king…. First of all, she’s hilarious. So funny. I feel like this summer I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she’s smart—way smarter than me…. She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Traits Robin Also Has that Eddie Shares:

Outcast

Band Kid

The Witty Banter

Eddie’s personality is VERY Robin. Not perfectly so, but maddeningly close.

Another point:

This is just the same person in different gender specific fonts, A.K.A. Steve’s “love interest” versus a guy who called him “big boy” completely unprompted and interrupted a tender moment between him and his “love interest” and complimented him for an entire scene while Steve wore his clothes.

So, really, one of them’s Steve’s love interest and the other is Nancy Wheeler /hj.

I write a lot, and as someone who both writes and consumes an abhorrent amount of media, whoever wrote this down, casted and costumed this way, and allowed for the interactions between Steve and Eddie to be as nuanced as they were (EX: the scene in which Eddie steps forward like he has more to say to Steve before he goes off and kills himself) had to have known what was going to happen. There is simply no way of not seeing it.

And if they didn’t want people shipping Steddie at the scale which they do, here’s what went wrong:

First: defaulting to Steve wanting his ex back is just plain shitty writing. It means you don’t know where to go with the character anymore, and since you’re certain he’s done all the growing he can do, he’s just gonna double back to the conflict he was in in the FIRST SEASON.

Are you serious right now, bro?

Steve’s arc as a character has been absolutely heartwarming to watch. If anything, he’d have been better off given the “I need to figure out how to be happy on my own” narrative. Throwing him back at Nancy is a cop out, a big one.

Second: Eddie. Throwing Eddie in the mix was absolutely a WILD decision, because he looks like Nancy, he banters like Robin, and GENDER IS NO LONGER A PLAUSIBLE REASON FOR AN AUDIENCE TO DENY CHEMISTRY, OR EXPLAIN IT AWAY. Not in the year of our lord 2023, no sir. Not unless you’re going to explicitly state in some way to an audience that these characters are DEFINITIVELY STRAIGHT. And with Eddie, they went as far off that course as possible.

The outcast stuff. The D&D stuff. The hatred of the system. The mysteriously living with his uncle and not his parents. THE HANKERCHIEF IN HIS BACK POCKET.

So essentially, this is what they did:

They took a beloved character, flubbed over his character arc because they weren’t sure what to do with it.

Then, they created a SECOND beloved character, made him likable, lovable, even, and relatable. Then they gave him half and half personality and looks of Steve’s last two love interests. Then they gave us scenes of them together where they showed chemistry, genuineness, and playfulness.

Then they EXPECTED that we as an audience had enough heteronormativity left as a society to say—oh, those two guys aren’t flirting with each other even a little bit because they’re two guys and obviously that doesn’t happen.

WHEN IN THE SAME SEASON WE WATCHED WILL AND ROBIN GO GAY PANIC AND DESPAIR LIKE?????

Pick a side pick a side, are your characters fucking gay or is your audience fucking blind?

Point being, I have some friends IRL who don’t really get this. They think Steve and Eddie hardly interacted enough for there to be romance at all, but I think it’s less about how much they interacted and more about the (unintentional) set up they were given by the writers.

Steve’s a truly beloved character and I don’t know on ST fan that wants to see him just end up back with Nancy Wheeler like his entire character arc was just to “get the girl” and “have six kids.” Which he already has by the way.

Anyway, that’s just my two cents. I’m not advocating for anyone to ship them, I’m just saying it’s honestly a perfectly logical conclusion to make, especially if you CARE about Steve as a character, you know? We want him to be with someone genuine, someone who challenges him to be better, to be different than he was. Nancy couldn’t handle doing that. Robin could, but they’re platonic af.

So why wouldn’t it be Eddie?

Rest in peace, by the way. You would’ve loved this text post.

#stranger things #steddie #writers #eddie munson #steve harrington #bisexual #gay #lgbtq #stranger things 4 #ultimately I’m just very confused by the writers #their choices seem so deliberate but they can’t possibly be #who instructed Joe to take that step forward? #what was the point of ‘for your modesty dude’ #why make Steve’s only character trait needing a girlfriend? #why not make Eddie’s character a girl? #the Lance mcclainification of Steve harrington

[piracytheorist]

Episode 35 screaming notes!

So what if I'm emotional over a fictional, fake family spending one day of vacations together?

I love Twilight's comment about how he's glad the SSS is looking out for the bombing threat (and we know it's in vain), but it still puts him on edge to be stared at like this. He trusts them to protect civilian life (and Ostania's pride and joy of a ship) but he doesn't trust trust them, you get what I mean?

We shan't forget. The one thing this man can't pretend to be is someone who is having genuine fun and we'll drag his ass about it and then cry because this is a direct result of his traumatic childhood

Loid blushing when he spots Yor is so precious. I think it might be him blushing half because she saw his dorky skipping and half because… well. He might be falling in love :)

He notices the swelling on Yor's face, but I think he wouldn't even suspect her at this point. He sounded mostly worried about her.

And of course, Anya wasn't plaguing her with questions because she knows all, but it's funny that neither went like "Isn't our super curious five six-year-old going to ask where this bruise and swelling is from?"

SCREAMS

The following montage was absolutely adorable, and the insert song just made it even cuter. I love how it was Anya who lead them to each activity; neither Loid nor Yor had to drag her around anywhere, their attention was on her and on what she wanted. They even explored a cave! She was their priority, she truly must have had an amazing time and this is such a sweet way to end this cruise!

I mean, look. One of the ways Twilight learns how to parent is by fearing 24/7 that his daughter may fall. Very normal things.

Maybe it's because I'm the youngest child, so whenever we were out as a family and I asked to do something my parents would usually decline, because they had two more kids to look after and a place to go, but I have a lot of appreciation for the Forgers going around the resort and stopping to do whatever and anything Anya asked to do.

Very normal man who is definitely not an elite-trained spy trying to fit in. Normal things.

And like. Okay. Yor looking at Anya with such a soft face as Anya is having pure unrestrained fun is one thing.

BUT THEN THEY HIT US WITH THIS???

OH MY GOD. MY GOD. THIS MAN IS IN LOVE AND HE HAS NO FUCKING CLUE.

Like, for real. I can't stop looking at this. It's just his eyes but there's so much longing and yearning in them and also some sadness because deep down he thinks that what he wants is something he'll never get but this is really deep because it'll take him about three to five business years to accept he's grown feelings.

Like. It's not just "growing feelings" anymore. You don't look at someone like THIS when you're just "warming up" to them. He'd grown so accustomed to life with the Forgers that after Yor was away - though in the very same ship as them - for a couple of days he went all yearning looks and doe-y eyes at her when he met with her again. He's in LOVE.

I am so excited to see how their dynamic will develop from now on! It's gone on an entirely new page!

Anyway. I love how Yor went like "Oh they might see the wound on my chest" for the snorkeling but when she saw they could wear wetsuits she went like oh that's okay then and DIDN'T WORRY AT ALL ABOUT THE FACT THAT SHE'D GET SALTWATER ON HER WOUNDS. THIS WOMAN EATS HOT COALS FOR BREAKFAST AND WHITE HOT IRONS FOR LUNCH.

I mean, I'm guessing she is a fast healer and her wounds are not openly bleeding anymore but still. Hardcore.

And of course she'd beat the shit out of sharks. It's funny seeing the trio try to come up with excuses now but I think it's going to be a different type of good post-reveal, cause they'll be like "I have nothing to hide" and act on their abilities without a single moment of hesitation. Imagine Yor beating up sharks and Loid and Anya looking at her with heart eyes.

Aw, but look at them snorkeling. It's Yor who is holding Anya. I wonder what Yor's thinking is on that since she thinks that Loid is Anya's biological father and has been longer in her life. I doubt she thinks anything bad about Loid, but it is something that would make someone wonder.

I was so impressed by everything in the episode up until that point that I completely missed what the dialogue there was XD I only had more thoughts after I rewatched it.

Anya is having fun looking at the colourful fish. Yor has hunting in mind. Loid is… not impressed XD

Though very light, this could be a reflection of their characters. Anya is a child full of curiosity for the world, easily impressed by new stuff; she loved the aquarium, and she loved seeing new fish from up close.

Yor's encounters with animals were either for hunting (for food) or with guard dogs from people she was sent to kill. She understands the concept of pet animals, of course, but it seems to be a "secret third option", as tumblr would say. Her first instincts are either hunting or fighting, and since those fish were too small to be any threat (I mean, she's confident about fighting sharks), her mind went to food.

And then you have Loid. His wide knowledge of the world has rendered him almost incapable of getting impressed. There's nothing new for him to learn in anything… except for child rearing, of course. And maybe human connection. And so, he seems to be looking at those two in the last shot.

Just like Gram, Anya gets thrown around by a professional, super strong assassin and she just goes like "Again!" And Loid doesn't even make a comment about Yor pushing Anya too strong. He really took to heart and meant it when he told Yor that her being strong is one of the things that make her an amazing mother.

AND THEN THAT SCENE

I had guessed right, as Yor had indeed not rested at all for the entire three days of the cruise and had a long and intense fight the night before. AND THUS FANSERVICE HAPPENS <3 <3 <3

DON'T MIND IF I DO <3

ENDO KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING <3

No but seriously, there's a lot to love about this moment. Apart from how cute it is, Twilight at first only seems annoyed by how this attracts attention to them. He was already alert from how the SSS was looking at everyone, this would only add to his uneasiness.

But it doesn't take long for him to find an excuse for his wife. Blaming all her exhaustion on her work, being thankful for her going along with everything Anya asked to do, and smiling at her!! Bruh!! And he STILL can't see it, this man is such a good liar he can even lie to himself!!

Seriously the way Eguchi delivered those lines? Superb <3

AND THEN THE FAMILY THEME PLAYED AND I WAS LOSING MY MIND.

They didn't have to go so hard T_T It was a relaxing (and quite prolonged!) chapter to wrap up the cruise arc, but it was wonderful T_T

Even the Handler is up to him, though. Fullmetal Lady won't fall for his emotionally constipated bullshit.

AND I THOUGHT IT COULDN'T GET ANY CUTER!

She even drew the family in their colours! Yor in red, herself in pink, and Loid in a muted green! I can see Yor holding one of her stilettos, but what is the other thing? A rose? I don't think I can tell what Anya is doing in the drawing, but Loid looks like he's holding a bomb? Or a surfboard?

AAAAAHHH It was wonderful!! T_T

The parts with Yor and her coworkers and Yuri and Lieutenant Guy were actually added by the anime! I feel Yor about the gifts. I'm so bad at gifts you have no idea. And Yuri is on another level, he doesn't stop talking about his sister and he tells Lieutenant Guy "Are you psychic or something" and he's like "Sure sure". And this being this kind of show I was like "MAYBE???" but yeah no he was just messing with Yuri XD

Hey psst. You know what will look even more convincing? If you both slept on those pillows 👀👀 next to each other 👀👀

I was cringing so hard at the scene in the school! Anya! We love you as you are, you don't need to go embarrass yourself!

It was interesting, though, to see that Damian stayed out of it all. It's proof that he can mind his business and keep his opinion to himself. I hope he learns to do that more often.

Becky continues being best friend material <3 Anya is so lucky for real

It's been less than a week

It's so funny to me that the anime added the detail that it was Loid who picked the snacks for Yuri. I wonder how quickly Yuri would spit them out upon learning that XD

My mans tired. I felt kinda sad for him ngl XD

Okay, this was hilarious. His paternal instincts are starting to kick in to the point where he imagines teaching Anya the proper methods of deception. It was also funny that as Yuri was imagining his speech, I went like "Uhm you lie to your sister no?" and before I got to finish that thought, the excuses kicked in.

And Anya is starting to learn that actions have consequences.

This isn't what she manipulated two enemies of the state into adopting her for.

TWO EPISODES LEFT T_T I might have to pick up making crack recaps again for however long the next hiatus will last :'D

#Spy x Family #sxf spoilers #sxf reaction

[nterini]

The Leftover Kids in ONLY FRIENDS

A character analysis of Boston and Ray Ep. 6

This episode reveals a bit more about Boston’s character, and while it doesn’t justify his actions (because your past doesn’t have to justify all your present decisions, especially in fictional characters) we’re able to better understand his impulse to “humble” others when it seems to him like they’re finding their own way.

We learn that Boston’s mother remarried, and flew to another continent to start her new life. And while I don’t want to make assumptions, something about Boston’s politician father (who calls him only to speak about his campaign and winning over young people) encouraging his son’s impulses to toy with the emotions and bodies of others may have had something to do with it. Boston, time and time again tells Nick that the potential of the public finding his sex tapes (with other men) would be a burden to his father’s career. We don’t know if Boston has come out to his father, but the ultimatum that Boston must graduate or be sent back to New York to live with his mom shows his father’s willingness to get rid of a son that may not fit his public image. Boston is a talented photographer and someone in the demographic he wants to target; why so eager to send him away.

In the next scene, while comforting our favorite crazy lovesick puppy, he tells Nick, that the reason he doesn’t make lasting relationships is because he knows he has to leave anyway (and some more be about how he’d be a better photographer abroad). Maybe it’s because of the pressure he feels from his father, but Boston believes that there’s no place for him permanently anywhere. No one has chosen him for an “unconditional forever love” and no ever one will. He’s had no power over that. If my assumption that Boston’s father already knows of his son’s sexuality, and is slowly freezing him out and that Boston knows this already, Boston’s view of his future in Thailand, one that will always be queer, must be bleak. His own father, a popular candidate elect, does not want him. This loss of control triggers him. We see Boston seek control of potential rejection in the way he pursues his flings. He prefers Nick over all his other flings because he’s confident that Nick will always choose him no matter what selfish things he says. He’s envious of Mew who’s constantly chosen and pure, of the perfect Top who rejected him and has his life together, and of Ray and Sands budding relationship. He believes he’ll be left alone again, so he sabotages externally against anyone’s progress.

It’s what makes his scenes with Ray that much more interesting. Because Ray is just like him, except he sabotages internally. 

We were introduced to Ray’s family background a few episodes back, and the toll it took on him emotionally, physically, and mentally. His mother was a young and talented actress who married rich, and whose light was dimmed in that marriage. And whether it was resentment over her lost career, Post-partum depression and an uncaring husband, or just a worsening addiction that was left untreated, she died alone drowning herself in alcohol. We know that Ray did not receive much affection from his mother and that his father was just as neglectful. Ray has learned to use money to buy emotions, companionship and intimacy. Unfortunately, he seems to be following in both his parents footsteps. 

There is a theory going around that Boston has had a secret unrequited crush on Ray. And while I don’t think there’s a lot of evidence that supports this ship, it’s a plausible theory. However, the way he constantly goes back to Nick when he needs comfort and conversations, other than just straight sex, says the opposite. I think a better conclusion would be that Boston finds comfort in Ray’s lack of growth and misfortune. After all, they’re very similar. Leftover, abandoned, rich kids that were never chosen. I don’t even think he had any ill intention against Mew when he slept with Top or even with Ray. I think deep down he’s secretly comforted by seeing Ray heartbroken. It makes sense that he was triggered when he saw that Ray might have found someone to help him come out of that misery. He doesn’t provoke Mew or Top the way he does Ray. Maybe it’s because Ray doesn’t see how similar they are. Maybe it’s because Top and Mew see right through him. 

Mew’s role in their friendship is also really interesting 🤔. Ep. 7 might give us inside Mew’s thoughts and actions. Is Mew manipulating his rich friends to get his dream career and partner or is it all all a grand plan to help heal the lives of the people he cares about most.

Overall, I love how real the show feels. The discussions of drugs in Thailand’s queer community, of privilege and class struggle, it all feels incredibly genuine. It’s hot and steamy and we’ll written. Like we CAN have all of these things at once! The growth that I see in BL/Queer (the slash is necessary) content gives me hope. Please give the lesbians (AprilNamchueam) more screen time plsssssssss 😩.

(Please excuse any typos and errors.)

#only friends meta #only friends ray #only friends the series #show analysis #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #firstkhao #only friends boston #Only friends episode 6 #thai bl #gmmtv 2023 #gmmtv bl #gmmtv #bostonnick #neomark #queer #messy gays #queer friend groups #someone give the lesbians more screen time #namchueam #AprilNamchueam #jennie panhan #forcebook #lgbt representation #lgbtqiia+ #thai gl #thai drama #only friends mew #only friends top #only friends sand

[stubz]

Tuk didn't like this. She didn't like having to carry the tank and mask, didn't like being on the ship, and certainly didn't like this coal-ition.

But they could help Mom and Dad get rid of the RDA and they were healing Neteyam so she was trying not to whine. Well not too much.

It made her feel a little better that Loak and Kiri didn't like this place either. Spider was still deciding.

Right now they on a tour of the ship, their guide looked like a fluffy Prolemuris, or as Dad called them, a monkey. It was boring.

Only the others found it cool and that's cause Spider can breathe and all the new creatures they saw and the science thingy's.

So when Tuk heard the sound of kids laughing around the corner she followed it.

Down a large hallway she saw a giant door with a huge sign that said something care something. She wasn't really paying attention when Dad and uncle Norm tried teaching her how to read.

Looking back and seeing that the others were too busy to stop her she walked in.

Inside was a giant room filled with kids, tables, stuff, more stuff and toys.

"Hi, are you new here?" she looked down and saw another creature that looked like their guide, a tiny fluffy monkey thing.

"Uhh yeah. What is this place?"

"This is the youngling centre. It's where we stay until our parents can take us home. I'm Marl."

"Tuk."

"...what are you?"

"Huh?"

"What are you? I've never seen anyone so tall, or blue."

"Uh a Na'vi. ..what are you?"

"I'm a Ursa." for a moment they stared at each other. As most children do when seeing something/someone new.

"Put your foot in for freeze tag!"

"Ooo freeze tag! Come on lets go play!"

"What's freeze tag?"

"It's a new game we just learned. Its easy." The little Ursa grabbed Tuk's tail using it as a leash to pull her along.

.

Freeze tag was Tuk's new favorite game. She loved running and there was lots of running and even if she got caught she could get out if someone unfreezed her.

The books were also fun. Marl read to her and let her hold the book. She liked the one's by Robert Munch, she also liked his funny name.

There were lots of other things to do too. There was a climbing area with fake tree tops and lots of ropes to swing on. In the back there was a shallow pool to swim in, it was fun but she didn't like having to dry off with the scratchy towels.

There were was blocks that stuck together which made building easier. Tons of markers, crayons, and paint that was hard to get back at home. They even got lunch.

"Okay kids you know the rules, grab a plate a drink and find a spot to sit."

"Teacher Max we need a chair for Tuk!"

"One chair coming right up...wait who?"

"Tuk. She's new."

It was at this moment Tuk realized she hadn't noticed the two adults in charge here. And it was at this moment that said adults realized they had one more child than usual.

"Oh hey, nice to meet you. Tuk was it," she nodded. "I'm Max and that's Kim. We're the teachers here."

Of all the new creatures and beings Tuk's seen so far it was only now that she was nervous. Humans had that effect on her. Not all humans, Spider definitely never made her nervous, but new ones did.

She knew her Dad used to be one, loved and liked uncle Norm and all the human scientists her family knew. But ever since what happened to Neteyam and their home, both the old one and new one, she was a little nervous.

"Do you like it here so far?" Luckily for her Max had noticed her nerves and knelt down to give her the advantage of height and to look her in the eyes.

She nodded.

"Well that's good. What do you like so far?"

"...the games...and drawing stuff and the food, it's good." he laughed.

"Well thank you, it's a family recipe. And I'm sure Kim will be happy to hear that you like the games she's taught the kids."

With that he gave her a chair and left her to finish her meal with Marl.

..

"Hi Tuk, I'm Kim."

"...hi."

"I noticed that your really tall. How old are you? 20?"

"No? I'm only 7." she smiled.

"What?? No way. You're almost as tall as me!"

"Actually Teacher, I think she's taller than you."

"No!"

"Tuk Tuk, stand up! Let's see!"

She got up and true enough she was taller than the adult by 2 inches.

"Holy...I didn't actually think you'd be taller than me." Kim had seen tall kids before but never had she met a kid taller than her this young.

The children laughed cheering that finally someone was taller than their shortest teacher. Tuk couldn't help but join in, standing on her tippy toes to make her even taller.

"Okay, okay that's enough. Calm down. Now, Tuk, since your so tall do you think you could help me with something?" Tuk hesitated but nodded.

Kim lead her to a tall bookshelf that had a doll stuck ontop of it.

"This has been stuck there for the whole day and we can't get it since the bookshelf can't be climbed and the ladder is broken. So what I'm thinking is you get on my shoulders and grab it. Sound good?"

"I get on your shoulders?"

"You don't have to if your scared of heights, I can ask one of the other kids or just wait."

"I'm not scared of heights," she pouted. "I just don't think you can carry me. I'm big and your small."

"Oh really?" and before Tuk could say anything she was tossed over Kim's shoulder.

"Still think I'm too small!" the blue child shrieked with laughter until she was put down and together the two got the doll down.

...

"What do you think the emergency is about?"

"Maybe Smelv burnt dinner again."

"Nah I don't think so. Captain look a little too tense for a simple fire alarm."

"So I called all of you here because we have a missing child. She was last seen on a tour of the ship with her siblings. Her name is Tuk and she is a Na'vi; tall, tail, blue, bi-pedal." he brings up a hologram of her from the security footage.

"...JAMES CAMERON WAS RIGHT?!"

"...shit I knew we weren't expecting another kid."

....

"Dad! Dad! Can I go to school here?"

"Your grounded. As are all of you." he added looking at his older kids. Plus Spider.

"Aww, Kim, Max, can I go to school here?"

"...uh Tuk, I think that's a question for another day..." preferably when your mom isn't about to bite my head off thought Kim.

"Yeah definitely. Definitely not the best time right now." Max was sweating bullets trying not make eye-contact with the Captain who was very not subtlety growling at him.

'We fucked up.' they both thought.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #the adventures of kim and max running a space child care centre #james cameron is from another earth that was created much sooner than ours and has 2 moons or something #and travelled to our planet to give us Avatar #crack idea #Neteyam lives cause screw that ending #years ago. for like 30 min at work. I played with and took care of a child thinking they were part of our program #only to realize they were here with their parents and just using our playground

[heyclickadee]

Okay, here’s the slightly evil, kind of sad, but mostly happy in a somewhat melancholy way (basically just a lot of feelings here) thought I had about Tech and Phee having kids, if that should ever happen:

So, operating under the assumption that Tech comes back, let’s say he and Phee do get together. And let’s say they stay together, and end up more or less space married. Let’s say they both want kids, and, after a lot of discussion about the war going on in the background and how they’re going to raise them and keep them safe, they end up going ahead with it. They don’t really settle down in any one place, but they’ve got their own ship with plenty of room, Pabu (maybe) is a good, stable home base to go back to when needed, and they’ve got a huge family for support. Those kids, if they have more than one, are loved. They have tons of uncles, somebody is always around, maybe some of the other batchers have partners (or not) and also have kids or adopt kids (heck, let’s throw Riyo in there, too, since she and Echo are a popular ship—they end up together but they don’t want kids, but they do a lot of work helping younger clones when they’re not fighting the Empire, Hunter took in several of the clone cadets they rescued from Tantiss, Wrecker is the favorite uncle but Crosshair is the favorite babysitter, they all manage to visit Cut and Suu once in a while, and and both Omega and Lyana are delighted to have little cousins running around (I kind of headcanon that Shep and Lyana kind of adopted Phee into their family after she found Pabu, so even if we’re going with a version of Phee that was formerly a Jedi and and doesn’t really know who her birth parents were, her kids are going to have family on both sides).

And this all exists just as a headcanon for something that could maybe happen after season three, depending on how season three goes, buuuut I like it. It’s just this nice little thought of this big, chaotic family, way bigger than just our six batchers, that’s structured a little weirdly, because clones, and everyone has their problems. but they’re all doing their best for each other and there’s a lot of love in it. And then I started thinking about clone aging.

And we all know clone aging sucks, but: let’s say clones really do age at twice the normal rate once they reach maturity, and let’s say Tech is chronologically, like, twelve but physically in his late twenties. A hard late twenties where he could pass for anything between thirty and fifty, but late twenties all the same. Suppose he gets the best case scenario and manages to live till he’s physically 90. Chronologically, he’ll be around forty-five. So, close to best case scenario, barring dying violently or getting sick, he’s got maybe another thirty-three years in him. That might seem like a lot (and it probably is to a clone), but to put that in perspective, I’m thirty-five. If I die in thirty-three years, I’ll only be sixty-eight—I’ll have died pretty young. And I’ve already been alive almost three times as long as many of the clones have. The clones do not get that much time.

There’s a lot to be explored with that in regards to Phee; I’ll be honest, the potential, “This is going to be over faster than either of us are going to be ready for,” “It is—let’s do it anyway,” is part of why at draws me to the ship, because there’s something a little defiant about two people going into a relationship knowing one of them was built to die faster, and choosing to live their lives how they want despite that. But there’s also a lot to be explored in how Phee and Tech would handle that with their kids. Because—they’d tell them. They’d have to sit down and tell them once they got to a certain age. Tech is going to be lucky to see them hit their twenties. It’s not like they wouldn’t notice their dad and their clone uncles getting old so much faster than their mom, Omega, or their uncle Shep, or anyone else they know. They’d ask questions, and it’s not like Tech wouldn’t be up-front. But I don’t think it’d be an easy conversation for any of them to have.

#the bad batch #techphee #tech bad batch #phee genoa #things I made myself have feelings about #while staring at my computer and not working yesterday #anyway add this to the ever growing list of things I want to draw #very rambly tired thoughts do not take them too seriously

[callsign-rogueone]

1-6, 8, and 15-18 for Garrick and Angel?

2-6 and 14-18 for Duchess and Brennan?

Don’t feel pressured to do them all! Just whichever ones of those won’t spoil any of the future posts 💕💕

hi! here’s the ones for Garrick and Angel + a few that another person asked for. I’ll put Bren and Duchess in a separate post 🥰

🏷: 1.2k words (I got a little carried away lol), contains iron flame spoilers and spoilers for their chapters that I’ve already posted.

1. What made them attracted to each other at first?

I think it’s a pretty common experience to look at a childhood friend one day and just go.. whoa. that’s kinda what happened here. I think she realized how strong he is (watching him spar with Xaden? him teaching her to fight?), and he realized how beautiful she is. after a few years of that mutual starry-eyed attraction, and Xaden running interference for both sides, we got our favorite couple.

2. What do they find attractive in each other now?

physical: she’s really into how broad and tall he is, and his physical presence (when he uses that section-leader voice? whew.). and of course, that damn smile of his. he likes how soft and warm she is; her smile, the feel of her skin and her hair, the plush of her body… after she left basgiath and wasn’t constantly working out all the time anymore, she got a little softer around the edges, and he loved it.

emotional: his humor, his kindness and how understanding and patient he is with her; her heart, her gentleness and deep empathy, how amazing she is with kids, animals, and even plants.

3. What would they never want to change about the other one? and 4. What do they wish they could change about the other one?

combining these two. I don’t think either of them would want to change much at all. they fell in love with each other because of who they are, not despite it. but if you really want a straight answer… he might wish that she took better care of herself (not working herself to burnout all the time). she might wish he would stop taking so many risks and freaking her out all the time (when he came back from Samara with that giant scar, she about lost it.)

5. What’s something that could make them break up?

neither of them are letting go of the other any time soon, for any reason, but if you want to get really technical, then like. someone cheating, or him doing something she can’t forgive / a severe violation of her ethics (killing someone in cold blood, etc), but neither of those are going to happen ever, so we’re good.

6. What’s keeping them together?

simply put, they need each other. a lot of their relationship from age 16-17 until now (and for the foreseeable future with this whole venin thing still unresolved) is founded on them helping each other cope with life and all the crazy shit that happens to them. things will look up soon (I hope), but they’re good at finding the little happy moments and savoring them, and they do genuinely love each other.

as @fw-gt once said; “she nurtures and he protects”. he’s doing everything he can to keep her safe (see what I did there?) and she’s that soft, comforting presence and a reminder that there is still good in the world.

8. Do their families like each other?

yes absolutely they did. their fathers both worked closely with Xaden’s, which is how they met as literal babies lol. I like to think that while the two of them weren’t bf/gf yet during the revolution, their parents both shipped it and knew it would happen eventually. her dad 100% would have given Garrick his blessing to marry her. (maybe he did, before he died. maybe her parents’ wedding rings are hidden in his room at Riorson house. that would be wild…)

10. How does being separated make them feel?

we got into this a little bit when they were apart from july-october in Iron Flame. that was really the longest they’d ever been apart, since they were childhood friends and then were fostered together (along with sweetheart! Gare likes to joke that she’s their ‘practice child’.)

getting off the trail and into the weeds here, sorry. but yeah. life just kinda loses its color when they’re apart for more than a day or two, and they both start worrying about the other’s safety, and he worries about her taking care of herself while he’s gone. before he left Riorson house to return to basgiath, leaving her behind, he made sure that she’d be taken care of (bren and duchess and tab were on the case) and he had to call in a few favors to send her those letters.

11. How long can they go without seeing each other before starting to miss the other one?

kinda answered this above, oops, but a few days is the tipping point. angel gets even more withdrawn and tries to busy herself with work or helping others to take her mind off of her anxiety about him being gone, and he gets kinda grumpy and stressed -- not like Xaden-level grumpy, but close. she’s the one who melts that stress away, so it builds up without her. him and X definitely did a lot of sparring when they were away from their girls to help get rid of that pent-up emotion.

15. Is one of them way more invested in the relationship than the other?

no. they’re equally invested, equally in love.

16. How happy are they about their relationship?

oh, over the moon. they’re endgame, going to get married and have kids, zero doubt. I have their kids’ names picked out and everything (keeping that under wraps for now, because I don’t know what I’m gonna do with that yet…)

they’re met with a little eye rolling and joking from their friends sometimes about just how in love they are, but they know it’s all in good fun, and that they must be doing it right if they’re making people jealous lol

17. How good are they at communicating their needs and preferences to the other?

I’d say that this is one of their weak spots as a couple. we’ve established that Angel isn’t great at taking care of or prioritizing herself, largely because she doesn’t believe she deserves it / values others needs more than hers. at this point, Garrick knows her super well and usually knows what she’s too afraid to ask for and does it anyway, but there’s also often a little secret relay that goes on there (Tab to Chradh or the other way around) when things really need to be addressed but someone is being too stubborn to spit it out.

18. How good are they at respecting each other’s boundaries?

ooh, boy, another fun one. Garrick respects her refusal to harm others unless absolutely necessary, and it’s one of the things he loves about her, but it can also strain things at times; they’re going to a war college, where everyone is armed and dangerous and a lot of people don’t like the Tyrs. this also threw a major wrench into him training her to fight, which I’m currently writing about for another of their chapters. but otherwise, when a boundary is drawn, it’s kept in place and not crossed unless deemed necessary. both of them are act-now, apologize-later people when it comes to matters of their partner’s safety and health, especially Garrick re: angel overworking herself. he’s not afraid to pick her up and physically remove her from a situation lmao

my og couple <33333 I need to sit down and plan out the rest of their story this week. I’ve been neglecting them :( ⚔️🌿🥰

#liz.txt #answered #Garrick and Angel #Garrick Tavis x reader #technically #fourth wing x reader

[fruitwaterz]

What's Up With Jack? - A JFK Clone High Character Analysis Written By a Mentally Unwell Highschool Student

I'm gonna start this essay off with 5 words: JFK is an iconic character. He's not as iconic as…Spongebob, sure, but he is the glue that holds together Clone High as a whole because of his character. I've written an essay on him once, and since then I've always loved him and he was so interesting to analyze. Though, I felt as if I had gotten a few things wrong in that one analysis. So, I'm remaking it. In addition, I'm adding some more stuff and correcting what I've gotten wrong.

We know who JFK is. Not the former US president, the cartoon character. The brute, dumb womanizing jock. The one that's used for comedic relief from time to time. The silly himbo that people have grown to love since 2020.

While Clone High is a very satire show that makes fun of various teen tropes, we get ourselves some very interesting characters like Joan, the shadowy board, etc. So in a way, making this analysis is very silly of me but I'm a Clone High obsessed nerd who relates to some of the characters. Most of all, JFK. I want to highlight some elements that most of the fandom doesn't really dig into that much. Good news for JoanFK and Jfabe fans, I can't infodump without mentioning both of these ships.

This is a JFK Clone High essay, and why I care so fucking much. Contains season 2 spoilers.

LGBTQ: THE SEXUAL MINORITY

To state the obvious, JFK has gay foster dads. Something that you don't see in many other 2000s cartoons. Most people would expect the last thing is for a jock to have same sex foster parents. Jack seeks advice from them. He loves them. However, we do get moments where JFK gets confused about his own sexual orientation at times. For instance, he messes up his words and gets flustered around "John Dark", who is actually Joan. In the end, however, he becomes relieved at the thought of not being attracted to the same sex.

This could either mean that he was "intimidated" by his own sexual orientation, or the fact that he's bisexual in a country that many sexual minorities struggle through– even today. Even if this might be a stretch, this is the 2000s, I must remind you. It was a VERY different time for people who identified with their orientations. Since JFK is so popular in the school, he could've become afraid of ruining his own reputation because he was simply bisexual. So what does he do? He goes to his foster parents for advice.

A lot of people in the world aren't very accepting of people who are queer (hell, people shunned Abe for kissing his friend Gandhi. And while Abe isn't attracted to Gandhi in any way, I feel like this could be a good example).

Let's put ourselves in JFK's shoes for a moment. You'd happen to be a kid growing up in the 80s-90s. You have gay foster parents. You'd get made fun of for having gay parents. I think that at some point during Jack's childhood, he was probably ridiculed for having parents of the same sex. It's possible.

His Personality, His Reputation, And His Feelings

JFK loves receiving praise. He pulls constantly, he's the captain of the football team, and he likes making himself look nice. But it's very obvious that he hides his feelings, he wants to make himself look tough SO much that he's almost forgotten the one thing: It's okay to feel human emotions. JFK has mentioned before that the only girl who ever gave him feelings (before Joan came in) was Cleo– and even if she did, the two were in a toxic relationship. They argued with each other constantly, they put each other down.

This could suggest that he's only ever felt way too empty when he was around with other girls, so Cleo coming into his life brought a little color into his world. Just…not for long. He has a deep fear of breaking up with Joan and losing her, because he has abandonment issues. Yes, JFK, the asshole jock, has abandonment issues, and it's been right in front of our eyes. He himself demonstrates a genuine fear of losing someone close to us.

Now to talk about one of my favorite episodes where JFK gets some character development. Litter Kills: Litterally. If you don't know the premise of this episode, JFK loses his best friend, Ponce, due to him being killed by litter. And. That's pretty much it, everyone go home

Seriously though, while the episode itself is pretty stupid and hilarious, it also remains one of the emotional Clone High episodes. When Ponce dies, JFK is devastated, clearly. He lost one of his only best friends, and as the funeral for Ponce went on, JFK didn't care about his reputation, he didn't care how insane he looked to everyone, he only wanted to be with his friend. But even in the current situation he was in, JFK first refused to be comforted by Abe. This is also the moment of one of the first ever times he ever felt a warm embrace. And by his enemy, of all people.

Towards the end of the episode, we can see that JFK is at least starting to move on.

Now, on to season 2 JFK, I do believe that he had some sort of character growth ever since Joan came into his life, which brings me to number 3:

Loneliness And Insecurities

JFK is noticeably happier when he's with Joan, correct. She's the only person he's ever felt comfortable being with compared to Cleo, whereas the two were in a completely toxic relationship back in season 1.

I want to remind you all that Joan is genuinely the only woman JFK has ever loved, so the thought of breaking up with her makes him…anxious. He has an irrational fear of losing her, same as he lost Cleo (though, the two remained friends). In Anxious Times At Clone High, JFK avoids Joan so she wouldn't break up with him. He runs away from his problems in this episode, to be exact. When he's not with Joan, he is prone to overthinking.

Joan and JFK do share something in common, they both struggle in actually making friends. But in season 2 episode 2, Joan makes friends faster than JFK does. He's spent most of his highschool years being a womanizing stud, that he came to the realization that he actually doesn't have any friends. His only friend was his girlfriend.

So, he resorts to crying in the boys restroom. Which is where we see him become friends with Confucius, as he invites him over to his mansion for a boys night. A very convenient thing that caught my eye was: Confucius also struggles in making friends. So he and JFK also share a thing in common. This is one of the first friends he ever made, mind you.

JFK admits to the fact that he's a "loser with zero friends", after getting absolutely demolished in an internet argument against Topher Bus.

So, JFK is a very insecure person, got it. He insults himself over having no friends. He's afraid of losing someone close to him because he fears he's not good enough for her. He's so scared about the thought of her breaking up with him that it pushes him out of his comfort zone. Though, as the episodes progressed, we do see JFK gaining many other friendships, even becoming friends with his former rival, Abe.

JoanFK (And Why It Didn't Work Out)

I will start off with this section by saying that I do not dislike JoanFK, I personally think they are very cute. They have a great ship dynamic. Goth girl x dumb jock. But, and this is a very lukewarm take: I feel like their break up was fair.

Saved By The Knoll was the breaking point, where in one of the scenes, JFK…cheats on Joan by making out with Harriet. And while they both apologized and admitted it to her, it's still treated as cheating by Joan (however forgives them both in the end).

I believe that JFK letting Joan break up with him in Spring Broken was a very responsible thing to do of him, and he goes on about how Joan needs someone with her that's not just sexually. And JFK…makes a lot of sex jokes. He's not a perfect person. He has flaws in relationships, this includes Joan. Even though it was a pretty emotional scene, and Joan was saddened by JFK's suggestion, they are able to work things out in episode 8, Sexy Ed.

You get where I'm going with this. I personally think that JFK and Joan are better off as friends, they have an excellent platonic duo dynamic that could work out so well. The whole entire relationship thing was doomed to fail, and couldn't last long as a result. And while they both look out for each other and care for each other, I don't think I'm the only one who thought that the relationship was quickly gonna sink like the titanic.

Jfabe (And Why It Does Work Out)

I'm not saying JFK and Abe have to be a romantic couple, like JoanFK, they could also form a cool duo dynamic that we pretty much have little to see so far. I can only hope that in season 3, we could have more moments between them where they're just a powerful brotp.

I'd like to point out that these two are complete opposites; Abe is tall and lanky while JFK is short and buff. I like the thought of the tall loser boyfriend x short jock boyfriend ship dynamic. They both influenced each other's goals, Abe was determined to get Cleo to be with him because JFK was competing against him to also get the girl, and JFK wanted to win the presidential election because Abe was getting himself into danger (as said by Joan). In season 2 episode 10 however, they both agreed to the fact that, "Hey, we actually do great as a team!"

I believe that JFK and Abe could work out things if they were to be in a relationship together, such as JFK learning from his previous break up that he needs to improve. I figured that Abe could be his emotional support. The one who's always there for him, willing to help JFK out whenever he needs it. Just wanted to share my thoughts.

Conclusion

For a satirical highschool comedy, JFK is an interesting antagonist to supporting character despite being the stereotypical highschool bully, and that's probably part of why people like him so much. While they have watered him down a bit in season 2 I couldn't be more grateful that we at least got some more JFK content to work with. He has been rotting my brain asides from the show itself i think i need help . Thanks for sticking around

#clone high #clone high season 2 #jfk clone high #clone high 2023 #character analysis

[sunflower73498]

My early thoughts on Season 3 Ep 1-5

mostly unprocessed ramblings but things I want to keep thinking about

(1) I think most importantly, Wille and Simon (and the rest of the characters, really) act like actual teenagers - teens don’t have it all together and don’t always communicate their feelings well and sometimes struggle to see things from other perspectives, especially when they are traumatized and grieving. I love that they show what a complicated phase of growing up adolescence is, in a very realistic way. Many teens struggle with lack of control in their own lives and can act out because of it, and in Wille’s case this is majorly amplified by having even less control because of the monarchy.

(2) fandom has idolized Erik, but I’ve never thought he was that great. As the viewer we get him more from Wille’s perspective so an idealized version of him until now, but there are definitely words and actions in s1e1 that were major red flags.

(3) I feel so bad for Wilhelm and his lack of support or interest from his parents. His outburst was deserved. Extreme, and scary, but what he said to them was a long time coming.

(4) I’ve seen people on Twitter saying that this season takes back some of Wilhelm’s character growth in season 2, which I disagree with. A handful of therapy sessions doesn’t fix his grief, the impact of being in the spotlight, his lifelong anxiety, or his parents neglecting him. I’m Season 2 he began a long journey of figuring out what matters to him, but that was just the first step, and I think s3 does a good job of showing how that is very much still a work in progress for him. He is trying, but often missteps and doesn’t communicate well.

(5) really loving getting to explore Simons emotions and reactions more. He’s also a work in progress just from a different starting point. He has his own family trauma, but having the support of his mom and his friends definitely makes a difference in how he approaches problems, even if his mom isn’t always the most attentive either. It’s also a realistic family dynamic with a history of domestic trauma/violence.

(6) I appreciated the hazing plot line. I went to a big public university in the US with very active Greek life, and our sororities and fraternities always had lots of hazing problems. The fraternities much more so, including a kid dying due to the hazing process while I was there, but some of my friends who rushed sororities also had some bad stories to tell.

(7) the acting is phenomenal

there are so many ups and downs for Wilmon and I’m glad the characters are complex and imperfect enough that I feel so deeply for them, even when it hurts as a fan of the ship and the individual characters. It hurts so much at times because it matters and it’s so real. Yeah, not everyone is a rich prince, but the emotions, the struggle for control and identity, is very universal.

(I really hope I’ve tagged this for spoilers appropriately. I’ve been on tumblr for 13+ years but mostly just lurk)

#Young royals #young royals season 3 #Spoilers #young royals spoilers #young royals analysis #wilhelm #simon

[snippychicke]

It's Just Business

Part Five: Lifestyle

I don't know when I can get on my computer next, so instead of making you wait I figured I'd just post via mobile. Not as fancy, but who cares, right?

AO3 | Master post

You and Nami split a bedroom, filled partly with items from your old ship and her own items.

It was your first time having a female friend - was it too soon to be friends? - let alone one your age. It was both thrilling and nerve wrecking at the same time, especially considering you were now living together.

"So hey, I have a question," Nami spoke as you settled in for the night.

"Uh, shoot?" You said as you climbed into your hammock, pulling a blanket around you.

"You and Sanji?" Nami asked. "Half the time you two are acting like a couple, the other half you're arguing and he's flirting with me - or any other women in the area for that matter. What's up with that?"

You were still stuck on the whole 'couple' notion that you barely heard the rest of her words. You? Sanji? A couple? "W-we we aren't… no. Not at all."

She tilted her head as she settled into her own bed, a wicked smile on her face. "You say you're not, but your red face says otherwise."

"We aren't a couple," You stated more firmly. "Never have been, and-and probably never will." Ow. You did not expect that to hurt as much as it did to admit that outloud. "We've been friends since we were kids, and were never really around others our age very much, so we just kinda… bonded. In our own little odd way."

Nami hummed thoughtfully, though she still had a faint smile on her face. "How do you feel about him?"

"Is this an interrogation?" You protested as you tried to shrink beneath your blanket.

"Sorta. Girl talk really," She teased. "Apparently it's a thing women do. Talk about our crushes, do each other's hair and nails. Gossip." You frowned at her, a bit uncertain, and her expression softened. "Relax. It's … well, I'm used to the others, but I don't know Sanji or you very well, and now that you're part of the crew…"

She just wanted to get to know you better, and the most obvious thing was probably you and Sanji's… dynamic.

"It's… complicated," You finally answered, deciding to admit some of the truth. After all, it was already clear that you two were not the typical pair of friends. "Sanji's my best friend, my only friend. Between him being raised at the Baratie and me being raised on my parent's merchant ship, neither of us had any other kids to talk to. No matter how much we'd argue and fight we knew no matter what, we had each other."

"But?" Nami hedged as you lapsed into silence, apparently able to tell there was more to the story.

"He's a massive flirt," You confessed, as if that part was surprising. "I've known this for years now, and before it never bothered me." Which was a lie, but it hadn't been too terrible. "He's just a stupid playboy after all. But now it does bother me, and I'm not sure what to do. I mean, I’m following this idiot to who-knows-where just because…"

You loved him. He looked at you with those puppy-dog eyes and you knew whatever he asked of you, you would give him in a heartbeat. Including abandoning everything else and setting sail on a pirate ship.

But you didn't think-- nor expected-- him to care for you the same way. You were thick as thieves, and that was the only reason he asked you to follow.

Nami's smile had faded, sympathy evident in her eyes, making you wonder if she had caught the words you refused to say. "I get it. I'll smack him if he tries to flirt with me, especially in front of you."

You laughed dryly with no humor. "You don't have to. Well. Unless you don't want his attention, then I'll be happy to help smack him until he starts thinking straight. Unfortunately, I think he's quite smitten with you."

Nami shook her head. "After serving Arlong all these years, I just wanna live for myself for a while. I joined Luffy's crew because I wanted to. I'm going to follow my dream. I don't want to worry about any romantic relationships right now."

You smiled softly and felt a sort of pity for Sanji. You knew how much he was pining for the redhead after all. "Then I'll make sure the idiot sees and respects that too."

》°《

You weren't sure how you ended up at the Baratie, or why.

You remembered being pulled from the wreckage of your parent's ship, sitting in front of the Marine Captain Axe-hand Morgan as he tried to draw information out of you. Unable to speak but just staring at the glinting metal of his arm. Remembering the metal of the pirate's swords. The cannon balls as they ripped the ship to pieces around you.

How the dark metal gleamed with the blood of your parents.

You remember the marines leaving you at Shells' Town port when all you had was the bloodied stained clothes on your back. And that was really the last thing you remembered, though you must have somehow convinced someone to take you to the floating restaurant - or maybe you had boarded the first ship that took pity on you, and fate had already decided your fate.

The next thing you knew, you were walking mechanically through the doors of the Baratie. Nemo, the Maître d’, paled when he saw you enter, and abandoned his post to rush towards you and quickly pull you into his arms. You numbly allowed the hug, as well as following him as he led you back into the kitchen. You vaguely remember him saying something, but you were too numb to really pay much attention.

Shortly after entering the kitchen, you were surrounded by the cooks all swearing your name and pulling you into strong-armed hugs. You still felt numb, but finally felt cracks appear in the thick sheet of ice as everyone stated how glad they were to see you. How worried they had been.

Sanji pushed through the crowd, eyes wide before pulling you out of Patty's arms and into his own. Tears finally stung your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his frame, breath hitching as he pressed a kiss to your temple, thanking whatever gods that existed that you were okay.

Then Zeff stole you from his apprentice, his bear hug twice as tight. "You're safe. You're home now," Zeff muttered, though whether to you or himself, you weren't sure. You didn't care, because he was right.

And that's when you broke down crying.

-*-

It was late when Sanji knocked on your door, opening it slightly despite not receiving an answer. "Hey, uh, I saw your light was still on, so I brought some hot chocolate."

"That sounds nice," You managed to mutter, your throat feeling tight despite having stopped crying hours ago. You were still sitting in the corner of the small room, back pressed against the wall for the sake of having some kind of stability to ground you.

Sanji opened the door all the way, careful with the tray of not only hot chocolate, but a plate full of treats as well. You had to admit, him taking a seat beside you on the floor without even hesitating eased the tightness in your frame more than the mug he placed in your hands.

Even when nothing was said for a long time, it was nice to not be alone. To have him beside you, grounding you more than being huddled against the wall ever could.

"I… can't say I know how you feel," Sanji started after a long moment. "Losing parents that loved you. But after the shit I've been through… I can say that things do start getting better again. It takes a while, but I promise it does."

You had heard, of course, of how Zeff and Sanji met - though you still had no idea about any of his life before that. Zeff wasn't his father - at least not biologically - so what happened for Sanji to part from his parents was a mystery.

However it happened, it didn't matter. You rested your head against his arm, hoping he understood what you were silently trying to convey.

Sanji moved, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to his side. "And until then, you got me, Zeff, the whole crew, okay? You're not alone. You'll never be alone."

"Promise?" You whispered as you snuggled into his side.

Sanji pressed a long kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing your arm. "I swear it. No matter what, you got me sweetheart."

#op sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #opla #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji

[queenofsimpsblog]

rivals - shuri x reader

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST YAY so this was requested by @locoforshuri so credits to her for the idea, i really hope you like this!! i took your request and added a bunch of other stuff to the plot to make it ✨spicy✨ so i hope that’s alright

ALSO for the sake of the story, shuri and y/n are both teenagers in the story. so this takes place after black panther but before infinity war (so t’challa and queen ramonda are still alive). this also ended up being a LOT longer than i thought it would, and at some point i lost track of what i was writing but oh well

i hope you guys like this <3

“i’m sorry, what?!” you said, rising from your seat in the court. your parents looked at you, shocked from your outburst.

“yes, darling.” your father said. “lonova is far too behind in its technological advancements so wakanda has extended an offer to help us. we need you to head the project and go to wakanda for a few months to learn and observe their technique. lonova needs a win right now. and you know exactly why.”

“okay, no. that’s a terrible idea. lonova is focused on its textiles and its fashion, and that has proven great so far! why do we need to become the second wakanda?!”

the queen, your mother, interjects. “dearest, you know that lonova can’t sustain on textiles alone. it’s not generating enough revenue. we have to build our country and continue to develop it. the economy of our great nation is going to crumble soon if we don’t do something to save it. as princess and soon-to-be queen, it is your duty to help your country and be there when we need you.”

“i thought we already agreed that raunak was going to become the king?” you said, referring to your younger brother, who looked too uncomfortable to say anything. “i told you, ruling a nation is not my thing.”

your mother rolled her eyes. “then make it your thing! lonova needs to be saved and you need to save it. so get your things. you leave tonight. dismissed.” you wanted to pull your hair, but your mother was right. lonova’s economy had taken a really bad hit after all the manufacturing factories got bombed. lonova was famous for its indestructible clothes with the best designs and astonishing durability. it was your country’s main source of income. but the run down factories resulted in no clothes being produced. lonova’s tech was great, but nothing compared to wakanda.

what was more frustrating was the fact that your brother was the more tech-inclined person. even though he was a year younger, his brains beat you in every way. it didn’t really bother you a lot, as your interests lay in design. but either way, someone had to step up to save your country. might as well be you.

going to wakanda wasn’t something you dreaded. you’ve visited quite a few times and loved the place. it was a beautiful country. the problem was that the princess, shuri, was your rival since you were kids.

you designed a dress? shuri made a dress that could turn into a battle suit. you tried to make a robot butler? shuri made an army of robot workers. every time you tried to do something shuri ripped off your designs and made it better. and you HATED it.

but either way, your mother was right. lonova needed you. and you would do anything for your country, even if it means working with your rival.

the hours passed and before you knew it, your ship landed on the palace jet pad. your guards first stepped out, then you did. taking a look around, a smile crept its way onto your face. you missed wakanda. the people here always made you feel welcome.

drums played to signal your arrival. queen ramonda, t’challa, and shuri stood together to greet you. you smiled at the sight (and held back a sneer when you looked at the princess).

“welcome back, y/n!” queen ramonda said and hugged you. her hugs always felt so good.

“missed me?” you smiled at t’challa and hugged him as well. he was like the older brother you never had. he’s been in your life since the agreement between lonova and wakanda formed, around 8 years ago.

you paused to look at shuri. she barely held back a scowl. “why didn’t raunak come with you? he’s much better at tech, he’d probably understand what i’m about to teach.”

“okay you know what—”

“how about we all just calm down and have some lunch? i am absolutely starving,” t’challa interrupted you both before the fight escalated. the queen agreed and made the guards take you to the royal dining hall.

queen ramonda and t’challa were walking ahead, while you and shuri were behind.

ramonda was quietly laughing to herself. t’challa looked at her with amusement. “what is so funny, mother?”

“shuri and y/n. they’re so adorable.”

“adorable? what’s adorable about them fighting like dogs and cats?”

“ah, that’s just them hiding their true feelings. they love each other. i know it.”

“and how are you do sure?”

“because that is exactly how your father and i behaved when we were their age.” the queen smiled at her son as they entered the dining hall, greeted by the heavenly smell of wakandan food.

you and shuri were still bickering in the background. t’challa looked at you both and smiled to himself. they really are adorable.

you all sat down and began eating. wakandan cuisine was one of your favourites. and why wouldn’t it be?! the food was absolutely delicious. your favourite was the marinated chicken breasts. several were kept on the tray, and you all shared it. until there was one piece left.

you looked at the chicken, and then looked upwards to see shuri staring at the plate and then you. you both grabbed your fork and knife and began fighting for the last piece. the sight was laughable, until t’challa interrupted you guys again and cut the piece into two. you sneered at the princess but tried to keep the rest of your dignity intact and ate one half of the chicken while shuri ate the other.

after lunch, you made your way to your assigned room and did a bit of unpacking, before bringing your phone and notebook down to shuri’s lab, where she called you at 3pm.

you walked in and instantly recognised the sound of lo fi african beats playing in the background. scientists bustled around, chattering about inventions and experiments, most of which flew off of the top of your head.

you found science quite fascinating, but it wasn’t exactly your specialty. lonova was a country known for its exquisite designs, most of which were created by you. you contributed to a certain amount of the tech, but most of it was done by your younger brother raunak. ideally, he should’ve been the one to come to wakanda, but your parents sent you instead as they needed raunak in lonova to monitor their latest developments.

you looked around for shuri, not seeing her anywhere. “looking for me?” a voice came from upwards. sure enough, the princess was walking down the stairs, not bothering to hide her disinterest in this ‘project’.

“let’s make it clear. i have no interest in teaching you anything. but your country is in shambles and needs my help.”

“oh you have some FLIPPING nerve to talk shit about my country to my face—”

“i am not talking shit, i’m merely saying the truth. now listen up. you have much to learn.”

shuri spent the next couple hours talking about circuit boards, coding, and nanotech. you were personally interested the most by nanotech, because it allowed you to incorporate design and tech together.

after the bombings, your father decided the army needed to be trained much more rigorously. their training already began, but they also needed new weaponry and new battle suits, which you and your brother (along with a team of experts) were meant to create. you already discussed the usage of nanotech with your brother, but the original blueprints were missing something, and neither of you could put your finger on it.

“nanotech is really important for building comfortable battle suits. especially in wakanda, we use vibranium in the suits to make them virtually indestructible.”

“wait, i have a question.”

“yes?”

“if vibranium is a metal, how do you get it into clothes? like, do you use chemical metal embrittlement? cause that’s expensive and really time consuming.”

shuri looked at you as if you just grew two heads. “that’s… that’s not how it works, y/n.” she chucked slightly before explaining the mechanism behind it.

you continued to ask questions, mainly about nanotech and how to perfect it. you kept writing down the important stuff shuri was saying, knowing you’d need it later on. a few hours later, you decided to stop for the day and pick up where you left off tomorrow.

“cant wait until this is over… then she can finally get out of my hair…” shuri muttered under her breath as you were preparing to leave the lab. she didn’t think you heard her, but you did. her words stung. as kids, you always tried to be friends with shuri, but she just kept dodging your attempts at friendship. eventually you gave up, admitting that shuri would be nothing more than your rival.

the days went by like this, and before you knew it, a month had already passed. you were amazed by shuri’s knowledge (although you never really admitted it) and her ability to grasp concepts and apply them to serve her nation. you kept telling raunak about everything you’ve been learning, and he started using the notes you made. and it worked! lonova’s factories were back on track and production of the textiles was resumed. on top of that, raunak was also able to design better security so that such bombs wouldn’t blow again, and the new suits for the improved army were almost ready. they just needed the final touches which he left to you.

your country was beginning to prosper. which was certainly relieving, as lonova was suffering like anything before. but clearly, you learning from shuri was helping. as much as you hated to admit it, you secretly enjoyed the time you spent with her.

the most shocking part was the fact that you and shuri were getting along surprisingly well. it was like the rivalry between you both never existed.

shuri also felt her hatred for you slowly disappear. she started admiring you a lot more, and noticed the little things about you. the way you’d tie your hair up when you were doing something important. the way you’d bite your lip when you were super focused. the way your hands would move so fast when you were writing in your notebook. the way your outfits always had a bit of flair, which wasn’t surprising seeing as you were literally the princess of a country known for its iconic fashion.

she was intimidated by you, honestly. the way you looked so effortlessly gorgeous all the time. it made her want to dress up a bit more so you’d look at her twice. maybe even compliment her.

god, shuri was smitten for you and didn’t even realise it. she was even complaining to her mom and brother about it! “help me! i cant stop thinking about her. is this some kind of disease?!”

her brother laughed before replying, “what you’re experiencing is love. you are in love with y/n. it’s simple. can’t believe someone so smart took so long to figure it out.” queen ramonda nodded in agreement with a knowing smile, wanting to burst into laughter again after seeing shuri’s face.

“love?! oh please. why would i love her?! it’s not love. it’s just that i can’t get her out of my head. can’t stop thinking about her stupid pretty hair and her stupid pretty eyes.”

“HAH! that is love, my dear sister. now calm down, and tell y/n how you feel.”

“no! that’s a terrible idea. oh shit, i’m supposed to meet her now!” shuri said before running out of the throne room and to her lab, to see you concentrating on some sketch on a blue screen.

“so if i bring this here….” you muttered to yourself, playing around with the images. you were working on a new weapon, and were currently struggling to finalise its design.

shuri cleared her throat and you turned around to make eye contact with her. “oh hey shuri! didnt see you there, i was just working on my latest design. can’t seem to figure this shit out…”

“here, let me help you.”

she came behind you to get a closer look at what you were working with. you caught a whiff of her scent. she smelled like cocoa butter. absolutely divine. your heartbeat accelerated when you both came in close contact. huh?! what was that about…

you shook off that feeling and brought your attention back to the screen. “ah, i see your mistake. you calculated the wrong angle. this entire shape is wrong.”

“oh, crap, sorry.”

“no problem. just fix your mistake then we can get back to the triple integrals i was telling you about last week. we need that for designing machinery.” she shot you a smile and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

okay, what’s going on? this is crazy. do i love her?

thoughts raced through your head as you attempted to fix the design of your weapon. your hands flew across the screen as you fixed the design. it finally made sense and the sketch looked as if the weapon would actually work. you felt so proud that you just got up and screamed.

“YAY!! IT WORKED IT WORKED IT WORKED!!” you ran around the lab and wrapped your arms around shuri, hugging her tightly.

“thank you so much!!” you said and smiled widely. shuri felt her face heat up in embarrassment. thankfully, due to her skin tone her blushing wasn’t obvious.

“oh, uhh, sorry.” you picked up on shuri’s awkwardness and backed away. “so… what now?”

both of you stayed quiet for a minute before griot intervened. “princess y/n, this is the reminder you asked me to give you today. you must leave to pack your things.” shuri raised an eyebrow.

you mentally facepalmed yourself. “oh, yeah. i must’ve forgotten to tell you. i need to head back to lonova tomorrow. the new army suits need to be finalised before we start producing them, and raunak needs me to be there in person to work out the final design. i leave tomorrow morning.”

“and you weren’t planning on telling me?!” shuri looked upset. angry. which confused you. from the day you arrived, shuri wanted nothing more than to get rid of you. so why the sudden change of heart?

“i don’t see why you’re getting so upset… you couldn’t wait for me to leave. and now that i’m going, you don’t want me to?”

“no, of course not. leave. i don’t care. i’m least bothered.” she spat and turned away, walking to another station of the lab in an attempt to shut down the conversation.

but you weren’t having it. you wanted to sort out this tension and rivalry once and for all.

“what’s your problem with me?!” you raised your voice to get shuri’s attention. and it worked, cause she instantly walked up to you.

“my problem is that you just come in here asking for my help and now that we’re finally getting along, you just want to leave me!”

“leave you? didn’t you want me to go in the first place?”

“no! i mean, yes, but that’s changed now.”

“what exactly are you trying to say, shuri?”

“i’m saying i love you, you idiot!” she yelled and the lab went absolutely silent. thank bast the two of you were alone that day.

you didn’t know what to do. the girl that has hated you your entire life just confessed her love for you. shuri started assuming the worst and was about to run away, but before she could you grabbed her by her shoulders and smashed your lips against her.

the kiss was desperate. passionate. you acted as if you let her go, then she’d disappear. it was like you poured your entire soul into her in that moment. you parted to breathe and stared into each others eyes. shuri started smiling widely, as did you.

“i take it that means you love me too?”

IT HAS BEEN DONE MY FIRST REQUEST DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT

I MIGHT DO A PART 2 WHERE THEY MAKE IT OFFICIAL AND IT MAY FEATURE JEALOUS SHURI

#shuri x reader #black panther #shuri #wakanda forever #queen of simps does it again

[jordanianroyals]

20 September 2023: Queen Rania is interviewed by Hoda Kotb on The Today Show in New York.

Following is the transcript:

HODA KOTB: Queen Rania, Your Majesty, good morning. I want to get to all of that in just a second, because a lot of that, we're watching and we think, “Wow, she's just like us, we have those same feelings!”

But let's talk about the UN first. You know, I feel like the world is in such a dark place right now and I've heard you give speeches, and I feel that there is light there. Where do you see – where do you find that hope? And how do you convey it?

QUEEN RANIA: Well, you know, you're right. I think our world is at an inflection point, you know, and it seems like polarization is really a defining feature of our world. Whenever we see somebody who disagrees with us, it has become natural to demonize them.

HODA KOTB: Yeah.

QUEEN RANIA: And when you see everything through a political lens, it becomes very difficult to come together over any issue. And the irony is that the issues that we're facing today, from climate change, to migration, to inequality – those all need solutions that come from collaboration. So, if we're not talking to one another, we're not going to be able to find resolution to some of these issues. And I just feel like, we need more engagement that is rooted in optimism and hope, rather than fear.

And, you know, there's this wave of populism around the world that's using people's fears and insecurities for leaders to gain popularity. And that's not finding – that's not very helpful, it's not finding solutions. So I think we need to focus more, not on the why, for example, when it comes to climate change, but on the how: How do we find solutions?

HODA KOTB: At the CogX, you gave a beautiful speech, and you talked about how you used to think that strong leaders were tough and led from the front of the ship. But as you've grown, you realized that leaders – great leaders – actually lead from the back of the ship. They're behind, they're watching how things unfold. And in your opinion, those are the kinds of leaders who we should get behind…

QUEEN RANIA: I think to be a strong leader, you need to follow – follow the great movements that actually lead to people's engagement and lead to participation, that leads to change. You have to have some self-doubt. What we're seeing today is so much – you know, I called it, certainty on steroids when where you're not questioning yourself and you think that your opinion is right. I think we could all benefit when confronted with an opinion that differs from ours in just maybe replacing defensiveness with curiosity, because you could learn something new.

And it doesn't mean you have to agree with the other side. But you can try to find a little bit of a middle ground. And really, the frightening thing in our world today is that middle ground seems to be disappearing.

HODA KOTB: Well, yeah, it’s being lost.

QUEEN RANIA: We need to regain that middle ground because that is where change is going to happen.

HODA KOTB: And you're optimistic that that can happen?

QUEEN RANIA:  I think optimism is a choice.

HODA KOTB: I don't know if you remember this, but you've been here on this show many times. There was one time in particular that you came on when your youngest was four months old.

QUEEN RANIA. True. Yes.

HODA KOTB: I think we have a little video. This is now 18-year-old Hashem, he just graduated from high school. When you look at those images of him as that little boy and to see what he's become…

QUEEN RANIA: It's just scary how time flies, right? I mean, you know, as parents, I think it's our job to, you know, take care of our kids until they are old enough to go out into the world… but that doesn't make it easy when that day comes, actually. And, you know, in the span of three months, from the end of March to the beginning of June, I had two children get married and two graduate. I mean, what was I thinking?

HODA KOTB: So you're an empty nester, so to speak?

QUEEN RANIA: I'm an empty nester right now, you know, and it's just this wave of emotions. You know, with Iman, it was a new experience for our family because she's the first one to get married. And there was so much planning and anticipation, culminated in a really beautiful and emotional day. Nothing can prepare you for the moment you see your daughter in that white dress. You know, the mixture of emotions – pride at the strong and independent woman she's become, joy for her joy, sadness for her leaving home… it all comes together and nothing can prepare you for that.

HODA KOTB: Well, just to brag on your kids a little bit, Crown Prince Hussein went to Georgetown and the Royal Military Academy in England, Princess Iman started in Georgetown then transferred to New York's Parsons School of Design, Princess Salma graduated from USC, and now your son is off to college. You did good by all your kids.

Can I ask [about] one thing that we wrestle with here when it comes to our kids: kids and cell phones. I know this is off topic, but what is that like in your house? Is that something that you don't like to have around, your kids being on there?

QUEEN RANIA: Look, I don't think you can completely fight the trend. Because that's where children are. I mean, that's where the world is, technology is all around us. You can't fight it completely, but you need to regulate it.

HODA KOTB: Yeah.

QUEEN RANIA: And I think it's more about the values that you instill in your kids, you know, about themselves, the self-confidence, the discipline… all those things are important, and that will determine how they interact with their technology.

I mean, one of the first things when, just before my son announced his engagement, I took Rajwa to a side and the first thing I told her was, “You know, there's no such thing as a 100% approval rating. You're always going to have people that are against you. And the advice that I want to give you is, please try not to read the comments, you know, because that's just gonna –  you're just going to have self doubt. There's always going to be negativity, and that negativity is not about you. It's from the person; they're unhappy in their own life, so don't carry that unhappiness. Just keep focusing on what it is you want to do, because it'll shake your confidence. You think it's not going to affect your morale, but it does.

And so you just need to develop healthy habits around technology. And that's what you try to teach your kids – not to stay away necessarily from their phones, but to interact with them in a healthier way and to always establish that balance.

HODA KOTB: Well, you've done so well by your children, and also just by just the way you're navigating your way through the world and how you're helping everyone. I just want to say thank you. It's been my honor to sit with you, Queen Rania, thank you so much. I really appreciate it. Thank you.

QUEEN RANIA: It’s a pleasure.

#Queen Rania #interview

[lucindaspartnerrealandtrue]

This post was supposed to be made months ago. But. I may or may not have forgotten.

I do not know how this happened. Where this idea came from. But it happened. And now it exists. And I am sorry for how incoherent in may be at times, I really tried to articulate this post as much as I could. Yeah, so, basically, when Aph and the boys meet him for the first time our man's a pirate.

He didn't want to become a pirate, he always wished to become a guard, but after the incident, he didn't really have the possibility. Well. Actually. Let's take it from the start(<- using it as an excuse to rant about Dante in general.)

His main backstory remained kind of the same so feel free to skip a bit ahead until you see pink. Also just the heads up, cw for a slight mention of decapitation and minor(?) character death.

When he was little, he used to hang around his brother a LOT. Gene was his role model and everything he wished to become, after all. And why wouldn't he? His brother was great! Gene kind of had to take care of Dante because well. Their mother could do only so much as a single parent who had to work a LOT.

They weren't the wealthiest, so when he somehow gained the post of head guard(quite early in his life, quite suspicious, but not impossible) in Boboros, it really came in handy. Yeah, well, we all know this didn't last too long as Dante found out about Gene's plans regarding the Lord's daughter and ended up telling the guards, leading to Gene getting executed through decapitation.

Now.

After erasing everyone's memories of Dante,(and also murdering the Lord and his daughter) leaving the kid completely alone, Gene left for the Nether, as we know.

Dante tried to remain in the village at first. Because where could he possibly go? He was like. 10-11-ish at the time and quite literally didn't know anyone who could help him that wouldn't have been his mother or brother. And neither of them were an option anymore as it seems! The villagers weren't mean to him. They just didn't know who he was. And so assumed he was just an orphan. Somehow, that was even more cruel to him. Because all these people he knew, including his own MOTHER, just...didn't acknowledge the fact they've known him ever since he was a baby quite frankly(as it was a small village- so imagine everyone kind of knew everyone), and once cared for him.

Eventually, he made the decision to leave Boboros, as it seemed to be the best option for him, as there was nothing left here.

Maybe he'd end up somewhere in Bright Port, i'm thinking, and hang around the merchants that would come and go in, obviously, the port. He'd help around where he can, and in exchange, he'd get food/gold. Eventually, he ended up getting picked up by some nice people who gave him a place to stay and meals in exchange for him cleaning the ship sometimes!!

Yeah, those guys were pirates. It took him a bit to realise that, though. They didn't really fit the image he had in his head about them, you know? But again, he did hear of stories about them through Gene, and he was kind of second doubting everything that man ever told him at this point.

The idea of becoming a guard kind of died down to him, but the wish to help people did not.

I think as he got older, he did join the crew. As an. Actual pirate. Which yeah. Obviously. Pirate Dante!

His crew ended up on the frozen sea of Ru'an, the ship getting stuck in the ice. So they were forced to find a way to solve it while on foot. And then they got captured by the Eastern Wolf Tribe. And from there, again, it kind of happens what it happened in the canon. Dante manages to save Donna and gets her to the Southern Wolf Tribe.

And he decides to go back with Aphmau to save Logan, and also his crew.

They end up in Malachi's Castle, he meets Garroth and Laurance too eventually. I don't think they'd trust him too much at first.

They get imprisoned together. And I suppose they do get talking a bit, him and the boys while Aphmau is out transformed as a werewolf.

Andddd then he sticks around a bit too much because he ends up wanting to help them with the whole Pikoro missing lord situation.

He just wanted to be helpful!

The moment when Aphmau asks him if he'd like to come back with them, as a guard, takes place a few weeks later, perhaps even months(2 of them). Because no way this whole think took only a few days.

I think it would make more logic to ask him after MONTHS then DAYS if he wants to come with em. And he'd still have the same answer of course, which is that he'd think about it. Because, at the same time he wouldn't want to abandon the ship, but at the same time he's felt home with these three, even after still a very short period of time. He doesn't feel like abandoning what has been his home for like. A bit over 10 years for three people he just met but...

Okay. Okay. There is a whole arc that is very. Not completed in my head over here. And it takes a few more months in which. They bond. Ok? I'm not sure who i'm trying to convince over here. And after that, he does return with them three. Well. Four. Nicole's there, too!

The only moment that I have in my mind for this kind of completely non canon arc is Laurance realising that Dante is younger than him. He full heartily believed Dante was older. Perhaps the same age as Garroth? But definitely not younger than them.

And he comes back to Phoenix Drops. Not as a guard, though! That wasn't his intention. But he did get in that armour to help them with the war. And he did remain in it for 15 years.

Because he kind of felt like it was the least he could do for these people who offered him a home, a new stable one. And it was to protect them. Protect his new village and the people he loved. And, of course, wait for the ones who were stuck in the Irene dimension. Wait for Aphmau! Wait for Garroth! Wait for Laurance!

Look, the ship was cool and all but. To him!! It doesn't compare with an actual home in a safe place(like he had when he was young).

A few other concepts I have for this is that maybe Dante DID say that he was out of the guard academy at first and that he was a new guard because he thought that like that he'd be more trustworthy?

Nonetheless to say Aphmau didn't care about that, not before she found out and not afterwards. She was just slightly confused of why he felt the need to lie.

Laurance would make comments about how he doesn't have proper weapons, like in canon, or how he fights very differently. But things wouldn't really start making sense until later.

Garroth figured him out quite fast but didn't see it fit to say anything as they were kind of in the middle of something more important.

Also I think the idea of both Dante AND Laurance mentioning a man named Gene who just happened to be a shadow Knight but neither of them realise it's the same guy for a while a bit funny in a tragic way?

This idea is very silly to me in a /pos and I am not entirely sure WHAT I will do with it but here it is.

I think that's kind of all that I have to say at the moment? If anyone wants to add anything, feel free to do so.

Maybe I'll draw him soon...

#aphmau minecraft diaries #aphmau garroth #aphmau shalashaska #aphmau #dante aphmau #aphmau dante #mcd dante #dante minecraft diaries #dante mcd #aphmau laurance #minecraft diaries laurance #aphmau laurence #laurance zvahl #laurance mcd #laurence zvahl #aphverse #aphblr #minecraft diaries #andi's random rants #mcd #aphmau mcd #andi's mcd rewrite🏴 #pirate dante #<- for my own organisation #minecraft diaries garroth #minecraftdiaries #this idea is very silly to me

[epickiya722]

Of all "hot takes" some people have about BakuDeku, whether from an anti or a BkDk shipper, the one I hate the most is the "bully actually likes girl who he pulls her pigtails".

It's stupid and to me it doesn't fit for them.

Bakugou and Midoriya don't seem like the type to always have been in love with each other since kids. They seem like the type who would fall in love much later in life. Why? Well, they have goals to become heroes and by canon, neither has expressed being interested in romance at this time or in their past. I just see them falling in love at the youngest being eighteen to early twenties when they have their shit together.

But during their middle school years?

I doubt either would have been like "Oh I've always been in love with you since middle school".

Bakugou already expressed why he bullied Midoriya. Simply put, he misunderstood how Midoriya saw him and has his own insecurities. He had people enable his behavior also. Sometimes, I wonder if the other characters are invisible to the audience because the way people like to just bring up Bakugou and not others whom mistreated Midoriya makes me think so. There were whole adults who bullied Midoriya.

From Midoriya’s side, it wasn't like he wanted Bakugou to bully him. He was aware he was being bullied and it was wrong. He couldn't say anything because who would believe the quirkless kid? And I'm sure he didn't say anything to his mom because he didn't want her to worry. Midoriya is the type who hides things out of the sake of not wanting to bother others. (Trust me, I know the feeling all too well.)

I feel like antis pull the "pigtail pulling bully" card just make BakuDeku seem even worse as a ship than what it is. Yeah, their relationship isn’t the best, but jeez. When you pull that card, even if don't like romantic BakuDeku, you are implying it is romantic somehow in some way. You're admitting that Bakugou has feelings for Midoriya and vice versa. In a way, you're shipping it without shipping it.

And with shippers, it may be because they like the idea of Bakugou and Midoriya being in love since forever, the "childhood romance" trope. The "those feelings have always been there, I was just stupid at the time" trope. It's cute, a guilty pleasure. But BkDks, you're not making the ship look any better if you're using that card. You're playing right into the antis' hands.

Now, if that's how you feel about BakuDeku, the "bully pulls girl's pigtails because he likes her" take, alright. I don't care.

But to me? I just don't see it. I don't.

That "bully likes girl" thing from my knowledge was something our parents told us to make us "feel better" about being bullied and that it stems from sexist views that men are dominant and women are submissive. That a girl should just accept that kind of attention because at least she is getting some attention, unwanted or not. That boys will be boys, they can get away with it. When the victim and bully are the same gender, that's when "honey, it's wrong" and "they're probably going through something or have issues they are unaware of yet".

That's the time people want to show concern.

So to apply it to a ship with two characters of the same sex and where it was clear as to why one of them was a bully and the reasons are nonromantic, it just... it's just strange to me. It doesn't make sense.

If we all know that bullies in real life most of the time bully someone because they have their own issues to work or their home life sucks in some way, why apply it to BakuDeku when we have the reasons why Bakugou is a bully?

What, Bakugou can't have his reasons be nonromantic? He can't have issues and faults and admit to them because he knows he was wrong?

And for Midoriya, why put him in more of the "submissive" role like that? Make him see naive than what he really is in canon?

I don't care to hear answers, these questions are rhetorical.

Just expressing a take that I hate and annoy me.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #just kiya's thoughts #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #deku #kacchan #bakudeku #bkdk #💚🐇👊 #🧡💣💥 #when something annoys bad you even wrote a fic about it #i did

[sandrockianblues]

Hey, I was wondering how do you feel about Logan and Haru’s relationship?

I wasn’t expecting an ask after my post so fast lol, hi

Logan and Haru honestly radiate brother energy to me.

I know that’s not what a lot of people will wanna hear, but it's my own opinion and if someone can’t handle that, they need to accept that not everyone sees the same thing as them. This post is just gonna be me elaborating on why and also how I perceive the two.

Before I get accused of ignorance or anything worse than that- I do have gay family members, I was in a major that was filled with predominantly gay or bi men (honestly a surprise to me for some reason, and I had close friends growing up during my grade school years who never had an issue expressing themselves or hiding who they were (we grew up in a more accepting community).

The ship between the boys is neat, but I don’t ship it, just like how I wouldn’t let myself ship Mi-An and Elsie, but I can see the ship after Elsie’s character growth. Or how I’d actually love to see Amirah with Grace.

I ship based primarily upon if they’d fit together psychologically and what their dynamics scream to me. I don’t like to randomly throw characters together just because it’s new or A looks like this and B is the opposite. I don’t believe looks make a relationship- they can make a trope, but a trope only works if characters actually mesh well together. It’s a common misconception I’ve seen over the years.

But in the case of Logan and Haru- they scream found family and brothers to me.

Coming from someone who has witnessed or experienced found family, it’s actually something beautiful and profound. My uncle isn’t really my uncle, my abuelo’s family took him in when he was laboring away as a kid and sleeping in a cargo shipping container. My sister-in-law didn’t click well with her own family but is perfect in ours and she is one of us. My dad’s friend grew up being babysat by a woman across the street and that whole family essentially became hers despite having a sister and parents of her own.

Found family does exist- and it’s often a concept not considered.

Tbh, the two of them remind me of Sylvain and Felix from Fire Emblem: Three House. Which is another case I think is found family/brother bond over romantic.

While Haru does seem to understand Logan and he seems like the balance to him- that’s often a case for siblings. Siblings can be opposites. My sister and I are, my brother and I are- and my brother and sister are the same as one another.

I don’t think Haru could stand dating Logan’s ass BECAUSE he knows him. There’s nothing wrong with Logan, but something in their dynamic hints that Logan can be a bit annoying. I hc him as pestering Haru when he’s bored while Haru is trying to work on something.

And while Logan appreciates Haru helping to guide him, that he makes up for the areas Logan lacks in and vice versa, I can see Logan getting into a tiffy with some of his issues as well. Not like a relationship style of learning to accept one another’s flaws and areas they lack in, more like I can see the two annihilating the shit out of one another in a ruthless sibling like way. And it’d be hilarious and they’d forgive one another because they know they’ll do it again. There’s acceptance and accountability held between the two.

I think the softness they have with one another stems from grief, but also their personalities.

Logan, while blunt and to the point, is caring and protective of those he sees as family. It’s evident in his lines and voice that there’s shifts the more you progress with him unlike some characters (no disrespect to them). Logan is a survivalist who knows he has to accept his own shortcomings and ask for help when he can’t do it himself- because how else will he achieve what he needs done? He’s cocky, but he’s honest and knows he needs humility to stay alive.

I do not believe his gentle demeanor towards his friend is anything romantically coded. He seems to speak like that to some others as well in Act III from what I’ve seen so far.

As for the concept of them being Andy’s parents- while it’s evident that Logan is Andy’s father figure despite the man being young, Haru and Andy seem like siblings as well to me. They honestly give off the vibes of the brothers from Big Hero 6.

Both are incredibly intelligent, both have a similar personality to that of the character they correspond to in the movie, and one leaves so the other can achieve things by himself. Just, in this case, Haru isn’t gonna be in an explosion like the brother was. Haru helped hone in on Andy’s brewing intelligence, but it’s obvious to both men that Andy needs proper schooling as well and to grow up as a kid. Andy cannot follow in either of their shadows, Andy cannot become the next Haru. Haru even radiates big brother energy and is less guiding in Andy’s life like Logan is (I.e. when he tries to do what’s best for him and his safety).

So, in conclusion, I think Logan and Haru are that of found family and brothers. I don’t read any romantic connotations from them or hints of it. And while Logan serves the role of Andy’s father, Haru seems to be that of the big brother. Any “hints” of them being that way, to me, is just this heavy set of shared guilt and burdens between the two of them. I think their need to protect Sandrock and avenge Howlett, as well as taking in Andy, helped to alleviate them in a way, but it’s a dark moment in their lives that is gonna be between the two of them.

I have some friends within this fandom who ship the two, and that’s honestly more than fine. We all see and perceive things a different way. I respect them and thankfully, I receive it back. I worry for this ship to become similar within the fanbase akin to Felix x Sylvain or Dean x Castiel in terms of fans arguing with one another, and I know it’ll occur either way because some are strongly for the ship, and some are vehemently against it. My only hope is that it doesn’t reach that level and we can respect one another’s opinions.

#my time at sandrock #mtas #sandrock #pathea #mtas logan #Mtas haru #Mtas Andy #Sandrock Logan #Sandrock haru #Sandrock Andy #anon ask #siren speaking✨ #Logan hc #haru bc