#I have a lot of feelings about Bruno have I mentioned
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I keep thinking about how, in Encanto, the first thing Bruno tries to apologise for is Pepa’s wedding - an incident that happened, what, 20 years ago? But apparently it’s still fresh in both their minds.
Obviously that’s largely narrative convenience/conservation of detail. But from an in-story perspective, it suggests two possibilities:
1. Bruno has been bothered and upset by it for 20 years, just like Pepa, but never quite had the nerve to explain the mix-up.
2. Bruno had no idea that Pepa was still so upset by it, and only found out during We Don’t Talk About Bruno, when he could hear them through the walls. After all, this is a family where they don’t talk about all sorts of things. Maybe he didn’t know she’d been holding onto that incident all these years. Maybe he didn’t even know she’d misinterpreted it. Maybe that’s why it was the first thing on his mind when apologising: until the dam burst and he heard his sister telling the story very differently from how he remembered it, he hadn’t had the first clue he needed to apologise, and now he feels awful.
It makes me wonder too: he left because he thought it was better for the family that way. And they don’t talk about Bruno so... did he ever hear a single thing to suggest he was wrong? Or did they fold up around his absence with barely a ripple, only confirming that he’d never really been needed or wanted?
#I have a lot of feelings about Bruno have I mentioned#he pings me hard as neurodivergent/dealing with mental health#encanto#bruno
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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
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timeless — ljh
summary: you’ve just met jihoon, yet something about him feels familiar
tags: fluff, romance, reincarnation?, gn!reader
warnings: arranged marriages, mentions of death and war
reader notes: no pronouns or explicit gender descriptions but they do take a more feminine role in history, jihoon picks up the reader but my mans is strong okay don’t worry
wc: 10.3k
an: i’ve been writing this for over a month now fjdskla and i like the finished product but im a bit worried the format is choppy but either way please enjoy and show it lots of love...also happy first fic of the 2nd year of rubyreduji!!!
“Soonyoung, stop it!” You scold your best friend as he giggles at you.
“Just go talk to him!” Soonyoung tells you, pushing you towards the door to the antique shop next to your favorite boba place.
Him refers to the cute cashier you always see through the windows when you and Soonyoung go and get boba (which is about three times a week). It’s nothing more than a hallway crush but Soonyoung keeps insisting that it could be more than that if you would just go talk to him.
You don’t actually want to talk to the boy who stands at the counter with a smile, but before you can stop him Soonyoung is opening the door to the store and forcing you inside. When you turn around to chew your best friend out, you find him not there, his back already retreating to the boba shop.
A part of you wants to just dash back out the door but the bell attached to the door has already gotten the attention of the cashier and you can’t escape now.
“Welcome to The Eternity Emorpium, today anything marked with a green sticker is 20% off.” The voice isn’t what you expected Cute Cashier to sound like but when you turn around to face him, you realize you’re not talking to Cute Cashier at all.
Rather than the tall boy with glasses you’ve been peeking in on for the past few months, you come face to face with a short yet buff boy with long black hair. He most definitely is not the guy you came in for, but you have to admit he is just as (if not more) cute than the other cashier.
You’re not sure how you didn’t notice that your normal Cute Cashier wasn't behind the counter, but in your defense you were too busy fighting off Soonyoung.
You give the new cashier—who you have now dubbed Even Cuter Cashier—a smile, before pretending to look at all of the memorabilia set out. The actual shop is nice with an obvious theme and specific layout that only someone with an eye for aesthetic and organization could create. On the speakers a Bruno Mars song is playing and you wonder if it's the cashier who has control over the music or just a general store playlist.
You feel awkward walking around the shop, letting out fake hums every once in a while to make it seem like you're actually shopping and not just sneaking glances at Even Cuter Cashier whenever you can. You stop in front of a playing card deck and you pick it up, flipping it over in your hand a couple of times.
"Oh, we just got those in," Even Cuter Cashier says, startling you a bit. "Put them on the floor this morning. You into cards?"
"Oh, uh," Shit. This is your chance to talk to him, "yeah. My dad is more of a collector than I am, but I can see the appeal."
"Nice. Yeah I'm more of a guitar collector myself, but my wallet wishes I wasn't," he says and you both laugh.
"That's cool though. I would love to learn how to play an instrument but I definitely don't have the talent or patience for that." As you speak with the man you slowly start to drift towards the counter.
"Hey, anyone can be talented, it just takes practice." You quickly glance down at Even Cuter Cashier's name tag to see his actual name is Jihoon.
"Good inspirational quote, but I think I'll just stick to the playing cards," you tell him with a grin as you set the pack down in front of him.
Jihoon just pushes the cards back to you and when you give him a questioning look he just grins. "They’re on the house.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you tell him.
“I wanted to,” he says. “Maybe it’s just my plan to get you to come in here again.”
You smile at Jihoon, your face starting to turn a bit hot. You pick up the pack of cards and bid goodbye to the cashier before turning and leaving. Soonyoung is standing outside the door with two boba cups in hand. He peeks in when you open the door and frowns.
“That’s not Cute Cashier.”
“Nope! That’s Even Cuter Cashier,” you tell your best friend.
“You’re abandoning the other guy already?���
“I can’t abandon someone I don’t even know,” you scoff, “and anyway, I think I like Even Cuter Cashier. Something about him…it feels like destiny.”
Soonyoung laughs at you, but you ignore him, your mind still lingering on the dark haired boy from earlier. The more you think about him, the more your heart starts to grow warm. You can’t place it, but something about Jihoon feels familiar, and you need more.
1500s
“You are to be married to Prince Wonwoo before the solstice hits.”
Your head shoots up, staring at your father, not sure if you hear his words correctly. There’s no possible way he said that. You can think of a dozen reasons why that’s impossible, a few including: 1. You’ve never met Prince Wonwoo in your life, why would he want you as his betrothed? 2. You two did not have a courtship and it would be a scandal for you two to get married without presenting as a couple to the public first. 3. Your family is not nearly important enough to be noticed by royalty. 4. (And this is the biggest one) You are in love with someone else.
Well, your father doesn’t know that you’re in love with someone else, but it’s still an important fact to note.
Despite all of these reasons, your father continues to talk about the arrangement, not noticing the shock on your face. You wonder about how it came to be, and without you hearing even a whisper about it.
“You will be meeting with a royal advisor in two days, please do not cause any trouble.” With that your father walks ways, leaving you with a million questions brewing your mind.
The main one being: how are you going to tell Jihoon about this?
For over a year now you’ve been seeing the same man, sneaking out whenever you can to meet him. He came into town with a bang (quite literally — his caravan practically falling apart with all of his belongings crashing to the ground as it did) and you’ve been captivated by him since.
Your days are never boring when Jihoon is around, the two of you either going on adventures or hanging out in Jihoon’s (new) caravan. Though, you think your most favorite times spent with Jihoon are late at night, when you two meet up on the outskirts of your estate grounds, right on the edge of the forest.
There never is any guessing as to what Jihoon has planned. Some days you two walk around the garden under the moonlight, talking and gazing up at the stars, while other nights you’re whisked off to another town to dance the night away in a hidden tavern. You love the guise of the night, being able to do whatever and be whoever without the fear of onlookers and their judgment. It’s just you and Jihoon in your own little world.
Maybe that’s why you’ve been keeping him a secret for so long, you like keeping him all to yourself. No one can taint your relationship if they don't know about it. Though you suppose that has backfired on you now.
You don’t see your father for the rest of the night and when the sunsets and you slip out the back door and walk down to the forest edge, you do it with a heavy heart. As always Jihoon is standing next to the tree he carved your initials in, a wide grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
As soon as he spots you approaching his face lights up in a grin. He trots up to you the rest of the way, scooping you up into a hug.
"I've missed you," he says, pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks. You giggle at his antics.
"You saw me two days ago, my dear."
"Oh but that's two days too long for an aching heart in love."
Other people may think it's cheesy but you can't help but adore the sweet way Jihoon talks to you, always putting his poet background to good use. You smile as Jihoon holds you in his arms, but soon the good mood is ruined by the news you remember you have to break to him.
"What's wrong, my love?" Jihoon asks, seeing the fallen look on your face. He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, a habit he has picked up since you two met.
You just sigh and shift so you're out of Jihoon's embrace. Automatically you miss his strong arms around your waist, but you can't bear to look at him as you talk.
“My father has given me away to another man,” you tell him in a hushed voice.
“Who?” Jihoon responds automatically. “I won’t let him take you. I-I’ll fight.”
You finally turn towards Jihoon, the solemn look still firm on your face. “I’m betrothed to Prince Wonwoo.”
“Prince Wonwoo?!” Jihoon looks taken aback. You don’t blame him. Suddenly he deflates. “How am I going to beat that?”
You’re not sure how to respond. The truth is Jihoon can’t compete. That doesn’t mean you’re going to give up hope on him, though.
“We’ll…we’ll figure something out,” you finally say. You step closer to Jihoon, allowing him to wrap you up in his embrace once again.
“I’m not giving up on us,” Jihoon tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“We’ll be fine. We have to be.”
When your father told you you’d be meeting with a royal advisor, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting.
When you arrived at the castle you were amazed at the size of it, but you weren’t allowed to gawk for long, being ushered into a sitting room where two men were already conversing. Neither were your soon to be husband though and you wondered when you might actually get to meet the prince.
The two men soon introduced themselves as Soonyoung and Mingyu, two of Prince Wonwoo’s most trusted men. Now two hours later, you’re starting to question the judgment of your betrothed.
Not only are the men completely scatterbrained and disorganized, they also seem to bicker more often than not, making it difficult for you to understand everything they’re telling you. The only thing you really comprehend is that you’re going to be spending a lot more time with the two men up until the wedding.
You’re given a schedule at the end of the day, your upcoming weeks all planned out for you already. Meeting with wedding coordinators, royalty training, garment fittings, and everything else of the like. You frown, thinking about your normally free schedule has now been filled.
Luckily for you, the meeting finished earlier than expected and you don’t hesitate to direct yourself towards the area where Jihoon’s caravan resides. Your lover is delighted to see you but before he can get any words out you’re throwing yourself at him, pulling him into a kiss. You’re desperate to drown in Jihoon and forget reality even just for a moment.
It isn’t until later that you and Jihoon finally exchange words.
“I can hear you thinking,” Jihoon says. You two lay next to each other on his bed, bare bodies pressed together under the linens. Your head rests on his chest and his hands card through your hair. “Was I not satisfactory in taking your thoughts away? What is troubling your mind so much?
“Prince Wonwoo.”
“You’re thinking about Prince Wonwoo after laying so intimately with me?”
“No! Well yes, but- I- shut up,” you grumble, smacking Jihoon’s chest, making his laugh.
You’ve never met the prince before, though you are well knowledged on him. It’s hard not to be when he is to take over the crown in a few years. You try not to think about how that will make you the queen consort.
You’ve only seen Prince Wonwoo in person a handful of times, none too recently, but you still know the prince is very handsome. Not as handsome as you find Jihoon, though you may be a bit biased. He’s also said to be kind, smart, level-headed, and well calculated. You suppose it could be worse.
“I met with his advisors today,” you tell Jihoon. “I guess it’s just all hitting me. This really is going to happen.”
“Hey, listen to me,” Jihoon moves so he can stare at you in the face, “no matter what happens, I will always love you. My heart is still yours.”
“And mine yours,” you tell him softly. “I love you Lee Jihoon. Never forget that.”
You don’t see Jihoon for a while. Your schedule is packed with futile meetings that take up your day and with the news of your engagement to the prince (who you have still yet to meet), there are guards outside of your estate at night.
You suppose you are fortunate that Mingyu and Soonyoung have grown on you in the past few weeks. Though you still think them foolish, you also have a fondness for the pair. You see why Prince Wonwoo puts his trust in them. You find yourself wanting to confide in them, though there is one thing that still remains a secret.
It isn’t until the night before your wedding that you see your love. You are able to lose your guards for a second and you make a beeline straight to Jihoon’s caravan. He’s still awake, sitting outside and staring up at the starry sky when you approach.
“My dear,” you call out to him. Jihoon looks away from the sky to meet your face, a look of surprise flashes over his face before they form into a soft smile.
“You know you really shouldn’t be out so late at night, it is not safe.”
“Well then, why don’t you help me find some shelter kind sir,” you tell him. Jihoon just grins and grabs your hand, pulling you into his home.
You two spent the night wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft kisses and even softer words. When the morning comes Jihoon is still asleep when you awake and while you’d love to give him a proper goodbye, you know you already pushed your luck enough spending the whole night out.
You quickly find a quill and some ink and you grab a piece of Jihoon’s writing parchment and scribble a quick note to him before slipping out the door. It’s only after the caravan is out of sight that you let your tears fall.
The first time you meet Prince Wonwoo is at the altar. Up close he’s even more handsome than you imagined, with soft facial features and kind eyes. You can’t help but still feel a bit disappointed, staring at the stranger in front of you as you recite your wedding vows.
The chapel where you are being wed is packed full of people, mostly nobility. Your attire is suffocating, despite being fitted for it thrice. Across from you, the prince keeps a neutral face and you wonder about his own involvement in this arrangement.
He’s dressed in a formal outfit fit for royalty. The colors pair with your own dressings and you wonder what you two look like from the outfit. A newly bonded couple who will eventually be ruling the whole country. Are you two a handsome, strong presenting couple? Or do you two look like two fools who have never met before?
You were surprised at the way the public took the news of the engagement. You were expecting backlash against the prince, but he is well loved by the public and they were all happy to see the young man finding a partner to settle down with before stepping up to the throne. Despite never having been seen together in public before today, there was a wide talk of your (fake) courtship and how you must be very lucky to have the prince hold your heart.
If only they knew that a lonely, penniless poet was the real caretaker of your love.
It isn’t until the words leave the officiant’s mouth that you realize you will have to kiss the prince. Not only to end the ceremony but for the public to see you two unite as one. You must look as taken aback as you feel because your now husband takes the initiative, stepping forward to close the distance between you two.
Wonwoo cups your face gingerly, his hands are cold and his fingers are boney. He stares at you for a moment, dark eyes gazing into your soul, before he finally leans in.
The moment his lips press against yours you want to jerk out of his hold. It feels wrong. Your lips don’t fit together nicely and there’s no warmth exchanged between you two. You’re both stiff and you note how Wonwoo’s lips aren't as full as Jihoon’s.
The kiss is over within seconds but the damage has been done and you can’t shake the dirty feeling that has grown under your skin. Wonwoo’s hand slides down your arm to clasp your fingers together. Another sign of unity for the public. You force a smile on your face, but the only thing you can think about is how your heart is miles away, in a small caravan on the edge of town.
My love,
I am not sure how you were able to convince the prince’s closest man to be a part of this, but I cannot say am I ungrateful for him. Though I do find him quite eccentric (and slightly obnoxious) I must give him my gratitude.
I miss you tremendously, but the past few letters you have sent me have been acting as bandages over my heart. I read them whenever I feel an ache of your absence, which is quite often.
It is unfortunate you find royal life boring. If I could, you know that I would sweep you off to the farthest lands where we would explore the area during the day and revel at night. I would show you the large world out there and we could experience new joys together.
How I long to have you lay by my side at night. To feel your soft, tender skin against my fingertips. It pains me to even think about it, but it would kill me not to.
I will never stop fighting for us.
Write back soon,
Your Jihoon
My darling,
I saw you today. I was taken quite off guard when I saw you riding in the carriage, next to Prince Wonwoo. I admit, you two make a handsome couple, but not more handsome than us.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful face in person, that even seeing you with another man made my heart sing. I couldn’t pull my eyes from you, doing my best to soak in the sight of you because you were once again gone.
You looked quite winsome sitting in the carriage, but you did not look like you. Are you required to wear such extremities every day, or were you dressed for the occasion? Either way I cannot imagine the process of getting ready to be a swift one.
If I am being honest I do not find the purpose of such efforts. Does the prince not find your natural beauty fit to his standards? If so then off with him. Any person with eyes would be fortunate to gaze upon you. I know I was.
Seeing you has only made me yearn more for you. I know it has only been a few weeks since your matrimony to Prince Wonwoo, but to me it has been lifetimes. How I crave to feel your touch, to hear your voice, to kiss your lips.
I know that the idea is futile but I will never give up on you. No matter what, I am still yours. And I hope you are still mine. Even if I only see a glimpse of you once every decade, my heart will still burn for you.
Forever yours,
Your Jihoon
To my heart,
Though you are always in my thoughts, you have been overtaking my mind more often than not lately. Please do not think I am upset about this, it is quite the opposite, but I am afraid I have been missing you a great deal more than usual.
Maybe it is due to a conversation I had the other day. I was at a tavern, catching up with an old acquaintance who was in town, and you came up. Jeonghan questioned if there was a reason why I had settled here and wondered if it was ‘due to my heart’. I laughed and confirmed his suspicions.
We spent a deal of time after that talking about you. It felt liberating being able to speak of you to someone else. I must have rambled on for at least an hour before Jeonghan finally cut me off, telling me how lucky I must be to have someone like you in my life. I had no choice other than to agree with him.
Speaking about you and thinking about you has thrown me into a tumultuous frame of mind. It is quite shameful how often I get lost in fantasies of us and what I wish we could be. You have overtaken my mind, body, and soul. There is not a single night where I do not dream of you.
I hope our future king can see how fortunate he is to be married to you. I would kill thousands of men to be in his position. Your smile itself is worth more than every jewel on his crown. I know I am just waxing poetic at you, but that is my job.
I know we must stay apart, but please mourn the future we could have had for me. Please write back to me with every thought you have about our imaginary future, because even if I cannot have the real thing, my dreams will be enough for me.
Dream of me as well,
Your Jihoon
The life between you and your husband is…comfortable. You two talk, but not often and seldom about anything that is not shallow or mundane. You two sleep side by side at night but the last time you two touched each other was when you danced at your wedding and while his days are spent in meeting, yours are spent wandering the castle grounds and having tea with Soonyoung and Mingyu.
The only thing you find yourself looking forward to in your days anymore is the nightly lettering that you receive from Jihoon. It was only a week into the marriage when Soonyoung noticed how miserable you were. Without being able to hold it in anymore, you told the man about your lover and your heartbreak. It was then that Soonyoung suggested he help you out, acting as a carriage pigeon to deliver letters to and from Jihoon.
One night you are sitting at the desk in your shared chambers with Wonwoo, writing your letter for Jihoon, when Wonwoo speaks up. He is sitting on the bed across the room and his deep voice startles you, not used to talking to the man like this.
“Are you happy?” Wonwoo asks you bluntly, after calling out your name. You take only a moment to form an answer.
“I am content, my lord,” you tell him. Though you have stopped referring to the man as “Prince Wonwoo” in your mind, you cannot help but tack on the formal titles at the end of your sentences to the man.
“But you are not happy. Why?”
“Rest assured your highness, it is nothing you’ve done.”
“Does it have anything to do with the letters Soonyoung delivers to you each evening? The letters you are writing back right now?” You freeze in your seat. You were unaware he knew, but the prince is not ignorant. You suppose you couldn’t keep it a secret forever.
“I-”
“Do not mistake my curiosity for accusation. I’m aware this arrangement is not an ideal situation, and I would not be upset if there was another. I would not even be upset if you wish to be with him,” Wonwoo says.
His words trouble you. There is a benefit for both of you in the marriage, but his words imply he is not exactly happy with the arrangement either. The offer to let you leave him is strange though, and causes you to fault for a moment.
“I am not going to abandon you, sire,” you eventually respond. “I have made an obligation to you.”
“No, your father did. Though we are not well acquainted I still hold empathy and I do not want to be what is keeping you from your happiness. From your happy ending.”
“Either way my father’s word is say, so I will do what he asks of me. It is an honor to be wedded to a man of your status,” you tell him, trying to convince yourself more than anything.
“But that is all it is: status. What about love?”
You don’t answer. You sit there and stare down at the letter you are writing to Jihoon. You think about the wooden box hidden in the drawer that holds his letters.
“Please, I do not wish to cause you turmoil. If you want to go, I will not hold you back,” Wonwoo says.
You finally turn to look at your husband. “You are very kind-hearted, but I cannot accept that offer. I will not tarnish your reputation like that. Do you know the talk that would rise if they heard the soon-to-be king’s spouse up and left? What would your father do to mine? It is too risky.”
Wonwoo has a morose look on his face, like he knows you’re right. “Tell me about him,” he says, surprising you.
You hesitate. You should not talk of your lover to your husband. It is unorthodox and unbecoming. You look at Wonwoo’s curious face though, and you can’t help yourself.
“He’s a poet. I’ve never met someone who can use words the way he does. Even in things as simple as short letters or passing comments, he can make it sound like the most romantic sentence ever uttered,” you tell Wonwoo.
“Tell me more.”
“He has a kind soul, like you. He’s very exciting to be around. He used to travel the world, so I love to hear him regale the tales of his adventures. He likes to take me on our own little adventures as well. One time a traveling show came through a neighboring town and he got us tickets to go watch.”
“You love him greatly.” It is not a question. You just nod to Wonwoo. “You light up when you speak of him. In a way I’ve never seen before.”
You don’t know what to say to him, so you turn your back to him once more, resuming your letter to Jihoon.
You love Jihoon, everyday apart from him feels like you’re struggling to breathe, and under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have stopped at anything to be with him, but you are not under those circumstances. You fought your father, refusing the marriage, even telling him you loved someone else, but he did not listen. He told you this was the one thing he would put his foot down on.
You can’t blame him, how often does someone get the chance to marry a prince. The things this marriage is doing for your family is immeasurable and you cannot in good conscience leave them without a second thought. Not to mention the damage it would do to your family’s reputation, let alone Wonwoo’s. Your family would be shunned by the public and Wonwoo would be labeled a joke of a king.
Not to mention if it was ever discovered what really happened. What would happen if everyone found out why you left? You and Jihoon would surely be ostracized. Town piranhas in even towns in other kingdoms. Jihoon’s career as a poet would be over. You can’t imagine that being a happy life.
Not that you’re particularly happy right now either. You wish you didn’t overthink everything, or else you would have left the town even before you got married. You and Jihoon could be living in his caravan, just you two alone, safe and sound and happy.
It is too late for that though, and now you have to pay the consequences. Married to a man you know nothing about. A man who seems to be rooting for you despite the outcome. It makes you frown. Maybe your first step in figuring it all out is figuring out your husband first.
“Have you ever been in love, my lord?” You decide to ask Wonwoo one day while walking the castle’s grounds. As of recently you two have gotten closer, an interesting bond forming between you two, though most of your time is spent talking of Jihoon. Wonwoo never draws back on his suggestions that you follow your heart.
“Not in the way you are. I was very fond of someone a long time ago, but they loved someone else.” You frown at this news.
“Please excuse the crudeness of my words, sire, but then why do you put so much mind into my love? Do you not wish to be wed to someone?”
“I do,” Wonwoo answers after a moment of contemplation, “but I do not want to be the reason why true love is separated. You and your Jihoon, you are a story of fate. Who am I to get in the middle of it? The public likes me enough, I will be okay. No matter what, I will be okay, but will you?”
Your heart aches and yearns for Jihoon, and your husband is not making it easier. That may have been his goal though.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask Wonwoo. You frown as you stand in front of him, your stomach in knots of worry.
Wonwoo just gives you a soft smile. “I am sure. If anything, I should be worrying about you. Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. Both Soonyoung and I checked twice. You have ensured that everything will run perfectly.” You reach over and take your husband’s hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you, Wonwoo. For everything.”
“Ah, it is the least I could do. Now, you have somewhere to be and I cannot keep you waiting any longer. Send me letters, okay?” With a final squeeze of your hands, Wonwoo lets you go. You smile at the man once more before turning away from him and not looking back.
You slip out of the castle through the servant’s doors and quickly make your way to the outskirts of the grounds. It reminds you of all those times you escaped your own house to meet Jihoon at the edge of the forest. The thought makes a grin grow on your face as you speed up your pace even more.
Just like all the previous times, when you get to the edge of the estate Jihoon is standing there waiting for you. You launch yourself into his arms, allowing him to pick you up and twirl you around. He’s giggling high pitched and gleeful as you two spin around in each other’s arms.
When Jihoon finally puts you down he doesn’t waste a moment and leans in to kiss you. You happily kiss him back, grabbing his face and holding him in place. You can feel a wet stream of tears run down your face, your heart bursting with joy as you reunite with your lover.
His lips are familiar against yours and you automatically feel at home. For the first time in months you can relax, finally back in Jihoon’s arms.
“It’s you,” Jihoon muttres when he finally pulls away. He brings his hands up to caress your face.
“It’s me, my love, it’s me,” you tell him back, tears still flowing freely.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you more.” You lean in and press another quick kiss against Jihoon’s lips. “But we will never have to miss each other again.”
“I’m never letting you go,” Jihoon tells you, gripping you tighter. “Oh how much I love you.”
You giggle. “I love you more. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”
You grab Jihoon’s hand and pull him away from the grounds to where his caravan is waiting for you two. As you two travel further and further away from the town you feel your heart grow lighter and lighter, excited for the rest of your life of adventures with your love.
The next time you see Jihoon is nearly a week later. You and Soonyoung are once again getting boba when you spot the boy behind the counter, just like last time. When you and Soonyoung went and got boba a few days prior you noticed that the original Cute Cashier was working, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at him not being Jihoon.
As soon as you lay eyes on your Even Cuter Cashier, you quickly make a beeline into the shop, your desire for boba long gone.
Jihoon looks up when he hears the sound of the bell ringing and his eyes soften into a smile when he sees you entering through the threshold.
“You came back!”
“I did. It’s hard not to, with the amazing service I got last time,” you say. You casually browse the store as you talk to Jihoon, glancing at him every so often as you do.
“Well I’m glad that my plan to get you to come back succeeded.”
You giggle at Jihoon’s words as you stop in front of a stack of old photos. You flip through them, looking at all the memories they hold. Many of the photos depict different couples, all smiling brightly as they hold each other. The images put a smile on your own face.
“Find something good?” Jihoon asks and you jump a bit at the closeness of his voice. When you turn, you see the man standing by your side.
“Oh, yeah, just these photos! Aren’t they beautiful?” You tilt them a bit to show them off to Jihoon. “I think it’s so amazing that no matter how the world changes, love will always stay the same.”
“Huh, I guess you’re right. Love’s been around since the beginning of time.”
“The love these people were feeling in these photos is the same love we experience today. There really is nothing like it.”
You look back down at the photos. The one in your hand shows a woman clinging onto a man’s arm, her cheek pressed into his bicep as she smiles at the camera. The man himself is smiling as well, though he is smiling down at the woman, rather than the camera.
“They’re cute,” Jihoon mumbles, his own eyes transfixed on the photo.
“Yeah,” you say, “I wonder what’s their story.”
“Something happy, I hope,” Jihoon says before moving to walk back behind the counter. You grab a few more photos from the stack before following after him, placing them on the counter.
Jihoon smiles at you and starts to ring you up. You take a moment to stare at him, your eyes tracing over his fluffy hair and round face and kind smile. You don’t stop staring until Jihoon breaks your focus.
“What? Does my hair look stupid or something?” He grins lazily at you again and you feel your heartbeat quicken.
“Uh, n-no! It’s just…your smile is super familiar to me. Sorry, that may be weird.”
“No, no, it’s not. I guess I kinda felt the same thing the first time you came in,” Jihoon tells you. “Who knows, maybe we knew each other in a past life.”
You chuckle at Jihoon’s joke, but you don’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
1951
War Against North Korea Rages On, No End in Sight
You frown at the heading, throwing the newspaper aside onto the counter. The news of the North Korean troops invading Seoul changed everyone’s lives, throwing the country into a state of chaos trying to keep them from completely overtaking all of South Korea. Now a year later, the war is still in full force and though you know it’s important to stay updated on what’s happening, you don’t bother with the news articles anymore. They always say more or less the same thing: the war continues on with more casualties and less hope of ending soon.
Your heart grows heavy with each day growing worse than the last. You wish there was more you could do to help the war efforts, but you’re stuck at home taking care of your sick father. He’s the only family you have left, after your mother’s death a few years ago. All of the money received from her passing has gone into your father, but since the start of the war prices have done nothing but skyrocket.
So you spend your days at home taking care of your father, and your nights in a factory working to earn an income. You don’t mind the work though, allowing your mind to focus on something that isn’t the war or your father.
The only other time you get a break, an actual real break, is on Saturdays. It’s the one day in the week you allow yourself to go out, spending the afternoon to yourself getting groceries and taking time to focus on yourself.
You go through the same routine, walking down to the port and spending a few minutes enjoying the waves lapping against the shore, the salty sea water scent filling the air as the summer breeze brushes up against your skin. After taking in the sight of the sea, you move further into town and down the street to the cemetery.
Every Saturday you visit your mother’s grave, sitting with her for a while as you update her on your life and the current events. Occasionally you will bring a book and read aloud. You find the time spent with her calming, her maternal love enveloping you and letting you rest, even for a small bit of time.
Afterwards you browse the shops in town (only looking, never buying) before heading to the market to finish your day off. You spend the money for the groceries to get you through the week before heading back home. You do your best to walk most places you go, not wanting to spend the fare for the trollies.
The streets are busy on the weekend and on your walk back to your house, someone bumps into you causing you to drop your bags, all of your freshly bought groceries tumbling to the ground. The person doesn’t even stop and you can’t bother chasing them too. You just sigh and bend down to pick up the now unusable goods.
You now have to turn around and go back into town to get more groceries. It will take a good chunk out of your funds, but not too much. Maybe you’ll pick up a few more shifts at the factory.
“Excuse me, are you okay?” As you’re thinking about how to make up the price of the ruined groceries, you miss the man who has walked up to you.
When you look up you see a beautiful man with a sweet round face and dark hair staring down at you. He’s dressed nicely in a suit and it takes you a moment to actually respond to him, too distracted by his good looks.
“Pardon?”
“I was asking if you were okay?” The man bends down to help you pick up the rest of the food spilled on the ground. “I saw that man bump into you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh! I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, appreciative of the kind gesture.
“But all of your groceries are now ruined. Allow me to buy you more.”
“Oh no! That’s not necessary,” you quickly tell the man. You don’t even know him and you would feel guilty allowing a man who didn’t even cause the casualty to pay for your groceries, especially with the state of the economy.
“I insist,” he says, standing and then helping you stand as well. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Sir it really-” Before you can even finish your sentence the man was walking away, back towards the town. You could just go back home, but then you’d be left with no groceries for the week so you begrudgingly follow him back to the market.
“Lee Jihoon, by the way,” he tells you as you two walk around the market, collecting what you need. You give him your name as well and he grins, a small spark igniting behind his eyes as he tells you how lovely your name is.
When you’re done regathering what you need you move to head to the register, but Jihoon stops you.
“This is all you’re getting? It’s barely enough for any proper meals. Please, add more. I won’t mind, I demand of it actually.” Jihoon then moves to add more to the basket and once again you have to follow along as Jihoon is the one carrying it.
You protest each time a new item is added but Jihoon keeps hushing you like you’re a life long friend rather than a stranger he met on the street no more than thirty minutes ago. By the time Jihoon is satisfied with what’s in your basket, it’s full to the top and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much food in your life. Guilt eats away at you as you think about the money Jihoon is about to drop on you just because someone else made you drop your bags.
It isn’t until you’re checking out and Jihoon casually pulls out multiple banknotes without even a blink of an eye that you realize that not everyone lives like you and that just maybe Jihoon doesn’t mind paying so much because he has the money laying around to do so. Even back when your mother was alive and your father was able to work your family was still paying for everything with scraped up coins.
The sun is already low in the sky by the time you two exit the market and Jihoon stops you once more. “Allow my driver to take you back to your house.”
The sentence alone confirms your suspicions on Jihoon’s monetary status. To own a car is a luxury of its own, but to have a driver as well seals the deal.
You already can tell it’s impossible to turn Jihoon down so you just follow him back to his car. You wonder if his driver followed you after you two walked to the market. When you two get into the car you tell your address to the driver, trying not to get embarrassed at the thought of the nice car driving through your run down little neighborhood.
Jihoon’s driver just nods and starts up the car. The three of you sit in silence until the car pulls up to your house and you climb out. Jihoon does as well, helping carry your groceries to the door.
“It was nice meeting you,” Jihoon says. “If you ever need anything again, give me a call.” He holds out a small white card, his business card, to you. You take it and thank him once more before entering your house, your mind still lingering on the strange, rich man.
You don’t give Jihoon a call, but you don’t have to. You run into him again not even three days after your first interaction. It’s early in the morning and you’re heading back home after work when you hear your name called out. When you turn you see the man’s car rolling up next to you, his head poking out of the back seat window.
“What are you doing walking alone so early in the morning? The sun has barely started to rise.”
"I'm walking back home from work," you answer honestly.
Jihoon's face looks sour at this, like he couldn't imagine working so late at night. "If you have been working all night let me treat you to breakfast."
It's your turn to let your face screw up slightly. You know that Jihoon can afford to buy you breakfast, but you still don't want to feel indebted to him. Not to mention your father will be waking up soon and you'll need to make his breakfast as well. You tell Jihoon as much.
"Then I will buy breakfast for your father too," is his solution.
You're not sure why he keeps insisting on buying you things but you just sigh and climb into the car. Jihoon has a smug grin on his face as he tells his driver where to go.
A few minutes later the car pulls up in front of a diner and you and Jihoon enter. It's nothing extravagant, but still a treat for those with a tight budget.
The two of you sit in silence until a waitress comes and takes your order. Jihoon doesn't allow you to order for yourself, picking what he tells you are the most delicious and filling items. He orders for himself and then a third meal, asking the waitress to not cook it until she brings the check.
You note the way Jihoon has a nice presence to him, friendly and warm and inviting. The way his soft features are accentuated when he smiles, his round cheeks puffing up and his eyes squinting. You find him fascinating, but there's something more than that, something drawing you to him.
"So, where do you work that has you walking home at six in the morning?"
The question breaks the ice between you as you fall into a natural conversation, asking questions and trading answers. Your hesitations towards the man quickly ebb the more you talk.
You learn he's a highly successful businessman but the war has halted much of his work which has given him some much needed down time. Like you, he doesn't have many living family members and he's an altruistic man so much of his money is left unspent.
Before you know it both of your meals are finished and the waitress is bringing over the check and the packaged meal for your father. Just like at the market, Jihoon pulls out his banknotes and pays before escorting you back to his car.
When you arrive at your house a part of you feels disappointed that the morning with Jihoon is over. Now it's back to the real world.
You're halfway to your door when you suddenly turn back around. You don't know what causes you to say it before you can stop yourself you spit out, "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It's the last I could do after all of your kindness."
Jihoon beams in front of you. "I would love that."
Bloodiest Battles of the War So Far, Conscription Soon to Follow?
Five months after you meet Jihoon he knocks on your front door, a letter clutched in his fist. There's a grim look on his face when you open the door and you know automatically.
The Battle of Bloody Ridge, follwoed by The Battle of Heartbreak Ridge, took out many of the soldiers on the frontlines and the country was now desperate to find new ones to replace them. A mandatory conscription for any young man who was eligible to join the military.
It didn't take long for you and Jihoon to start a relationship after your first few meetings. He's the perfect man, taking care of both you and your father and showering you in nothing but love and affection. The thought of him so far away, in the direct line of danger, makes a lump grow in your throat. Your chest tightens as your heart aches.
"We'll be okay," Jihoon mutters into your hair as you cry silently into his neck, holding him tightly. Like if you hold him tight enough he won't have to leave.
That's not how the world works though, and you accompany Jihoon on the day he is to deploy.
"If you need more money just send me a letter and I'll take care of it, okay?"
"You've left me with plenty already, love," you tell him as you fix his jacket collar. "Just come home safe."
"As long as you make sure I have something to come home to."
You can already feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you lean forward to press your lips to Jihoon's. He kisses you back, putting all of his love into it. A promise to you, that you will see him again, that this isn't your last kiss.
With one last squeeze of the hand Jihoon boards the bus and you're left alone, a heaviness in your heart and worry forming under your skin.
You just have to keep telling yourself he'll be okay, he has to be.
December 19, 1951
To the one my heart has gone to,
I hope you don't mind the frequency of my letters, I just feel closer to you know that eventually you'll hold the same paper in your fingers. I miss you tremendously, to the point my heart aches thinking of you.
Do you know that when you send your letters they smell of you? I always keep your most recent ones safe, in hopes to preserve the smell for just a little while longer.
There's not much to report about today, which I suppose is a good thing. Better than something hectic or even worse, a battle.
Unfortunately it still doesn't look like there will be a break anytime soon. Battle after battle, life after life. It's not easy, but I've come to like the other men in my unit. Jeonghan takes good of us and Seokmin makes nice company.
I don't want to keep you long, but I wanted to make sure you'd get a letter for before the holidays hit. Merry Christmas my love.
I'll make it up to you when I get home okay? For now just keep me in your dreams.
Write back soon, please. I want to hear what my lover has been up to. Keep me updated on your father as well.
All my love,
Your Jihoon
March 22, 1952
Today was hard.
I'm doing unwell as I write this letter, but it would pain me more not to send you my update.
Kwon Soonyoung died next to me today on the battlefield. It is not the first time a man has died near me, but it is the first time it was a man I have grown fond of. He was only a few months older than I am.
As grim as it may sound, and as much as I will mourn the loss, I am grateful that it was not me in his place. It was a difference of mere inches and fate chose Soonyoung. Does it mean anything? Is there a reason why I lived and he didn’t? I’m not sure but all I can think about is that his sacrifice is giving me a second chance at going home. Does that make me a bad person?
Everyday I pray this nightmare will be over. The thought of you is the only thing encouraging me to go on. I think about coming home to you, kissing your sweet lips, holding you in my arms.
We’ve been apart longer than we were together and I beat myself up for that everyday. I wish we would have met earlier, but as soon as the war is over we will have all the time in the world. Just you and me.
Wish me home soon,
Your Jihoon
November 30, 1952
To the home of my heart,
You have been on my mind all of today, not that you aren’t always on my mind normally. It has been particularly hard today though. It’s been a full year since my departure from you and every day has been harder than the last.
It’s hard to sleep at night and I often lay awake and think about you. Sometimes I will take a walk and look up at the sky. The moon and the stars are thousands of miles away but they still seem so close and bring so much comfort. That’s how I feel about you. Gazing at the moon also helps because it is still the same moon that you are under as well.
Look at the moon and think of me okay? Maybe one night we will be looking at the moon at the same time and I will be able to feel you just a bit closer.
Whenever I am able to fall asleep, I dream about you. I dream about the thought of you laying next to me. I wish to kiss your soft lips and feel your warm skin and look into your shining eyes. I dream of the life we will build together when we are reunited at last.
Would you marry me, my love?
I know it’s silly asking over a letter like this, and asking with such a strange courtship, but something in me feels the need to ask. Ever since I met you on the street that one fateful day, I’ve known you were the one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so please accept my proposal (I promise to give you a proper one the second I get home).
The other men keep teasing me about you, but they just don’t understand the love we share. Being with you, even just the thought of you, it feels like home.
A part of me wonders if I’ve secretly loved you my whole life. It sure feels like it. No matter what I know you were made for me and everyday I bless whatever force brought us together. I love you so much it drives me crazy.
When I get home let me take you out on a thousand dates to make up for the time lost.
Please send me your answer soon,
Your fiance Jihoon
February 01, 1953
To my dearest,
I’m writing to you from the infirmary. I was shot in battle earlier, nowhere too fatal just the leg, but I just woke up from the procedure to remove the bullet and patch me up. I’m lucky to come out with nothing more than a scar. Some other men aren’t as lucky.
It seems everyday is a new fight, but it’s worth it if it gives me a chance of going back home to you. We’ll buy a house close to the port, so you can be near the ocean breeze. Every night we’ll walk the shore and watch the sunset together. Then on Saturdays I’ll accompany you on your errands. We’ll go to town together and get groceries and visit the cafe and do whatever your heart desires.
I’ll buy fresh flowers for your parents every week.
We could get a cat to keep you company while I’m at work and you could quit that heinous job at the factory. That would give you more time to focus on yourself. You and I both know that my wealth is more than enough for just the two of us.
Our house shouldn’t be too big, but still a good size in case we ever have guests over. I think we should start a garden as well.
Ah, my love, thinking about our future is nice. It helps me wish for the future, helps me feel closer to you. Thank you for being my safe place away from this nightmare. I should rest more now, but please remember that I will always spend everyday loving you.
Pray for my speedy recovery,
Your Jihoon
July 07, 1953
Jagiya! I apologize for the lack of letters recently, things have been so hectic around here, but I write with good news!
The talk around camp is that the negotiations have been making a move, there is finally an end in sight. I cannot wait to get back to you. It has been far too long since I’ve seen you and the photo I carry of you has started to fade already from how often I admire it.
I cannot stay to write for long, but I needed to send you an update and a reminder of my love. I promise we will be back together soon.
Go to town and buy some flowers for yourself okay? Today is worth celebrating.
I can’t wait to see you,
Your Jihoon
You’re jittery as you smooth down your shirt, waiting for the bus to pull up. The same bus that took him away nearly two years ago.
When all of your friends heard about your beau, they all called you crazy. Holding out for a man who has been gone for quadruple the amount of time you spent together and you guess maybe it is crazy, but for Jihoon you would do anything.
It is true that you two were only together for five months before his deployment, but even before he left you knew you were madly in love with Lee Jihoon. You spent your nights reading the letters Jihoon sent you, and writing ones back. You would think you two had been lovers for fifty years rather than five months.
You’ve always felt the pull towards Jihoon though, like you’ve been loving him all your life. Every letter he sent made you fall in love with him even more, and now two years later he’s finally coming home.
The days were hard without him when you saw him nearly everyday before he left. Winter of 1952 was less than kind, taking your father with it and leaving you alone for the last seven months, wishing for nothing but for Jihoon to come home. Now he is and you couldn’t be more elated.
The people standing around you start to cheer when someone catches sight of the bus, but you can’t do anything but stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. When the bus stops and soldiers start to pour out you have a moment of doubt. The fear that Jihoon won’t want you anymore, that everything has changed for the worse, creeps into your mind.
The thoughts can barely form though because then Jihoon’s stepping off the bus and his skin is so much tanner than it used to be and you’ve never seen him with his hair so short but it’s Jihoon, your Jihoon. His eyes light up when he catches sight of your familiar face and he’s dropping his bags and running towards you.
His arms are locked around your waist and you’re being lifted off the ground. You cup Jihoon’s face in your hands and lean down to kiss him as he spins you two around, easing all of the worries in your mind. Your cheeks dampen as tears start to stream down your face, too many emotions coursing through you to keep them all on the inside.
You keep your hands on Jihoon’s face as he sets you down. You stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your touch. “You’re here, you’re really here.”
“I’m here my love, I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again.”
It doesn’t take much longer for you and Jihoon to leave the station. You two sit in the back of his car, pressed together as Jihoon presses kisses to your face every few minutes. You’re not much better though, leaning into him with a dopey grin on your face, ready to start your new life with the man you love the most.
The next time you see Jihoon isn’t at the antique shop at all. You’re getting coffee at the cafe next to your apartment when you see the man walk in. His eyes light up a bit when he sees you and he makes a beeline to your table after getting his drink.
“Is this seat open?” He asks, pointing to the empty chair across from you.
“Of course.”
Jihoon takes a seat before turning his attention to you. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” you say teasingly but Jihoon just grins.
“Maybe it is,” his voice is smooth as he talks, and your breath gets caught in your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if I was destined to meet you over and over again.”
You break his gaze, trying not to show him how flustered you are. “You’re quite the sweet talker you know? You don’t know anything about me-”
“No, but I don’t think it would be hard to learn. I’m starting to think we’re not really strangers at all. You can’t tell me that you aren’t a bit interested in me as well.”
You glance back at Jihoon to find him staring intently at him. His eyes are warm and deep and you can feel yourself being drawn in, like you’ve stared at those eyes a million times before. There’s an inviting sense to all of Jihoon and the only thing you can think of to describe it as is home.
“Okay,” you tell him with a slight grin. “Let’s see if destiny is right.”
And really you don’t care if it is fate or not, because as you and Jihoon fall into a comfortable conversation you realize that the two of you meeting was no mistake, and that you could definitely love Lee Jihoon for multiple lifetimes.
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When I Was Your Man
jj maybank x ex!reader ——> rafe cameron x reader
wc: 3.3k
lyrics in italics and in bold
Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now
Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same
When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down
'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name
JJ was still getting used to waking up without out you. The other side of his bed lay empty. He would wake up without your body heat and you snuggled next to him. Each morning he woke up he felt cold and entirely alone.
Today was no different, he stretched his arm out to the other side of the bed hoping to find a body. Instead he was met with cold sheets. The bed felt too large to be in, swallowing him whole.
JJ got up as he was going to hang out with the pogues today. After A few minutes he walked out of his room and met John B outside. The twinkie was waiting for the two of them.
John B and JJ hopped in the twinkie and started on the road to pick up Pope.
As John B was driving JJ's heart sunk as a familiar tune made its way on the radio. It was "Say You Won't Let Go." Your song.
John B made a motion to turn it up.
"You like this song right JJ?" John B inquired.
"No shut it off please." JJ pleaded.
John B was fiddling with the volume button that it wasn't turning off fast enough. JJ reached his hand over and slammed it off.
***flash back***
The radio hummed as the five of you ate at the wreck. Then one of your favorite songs came on through the radio.
"Dance with me JJ," you spoke standing up.
JJ got up as well and made his way over to you.
You took JJ's hands in yours and swung into him and then out. JJ slipped his hand around your waist and kept his other hand in yours.
The soft melody of "Say You Won't Let Go" rang in your ears. JJ spun you around and you smiled brightly at him.
JJ's heart skipped a beat when you looked at him like that. Your eyes sparkling and showing him love. Your bright smile that told him your happy with him.
Then you turned towards JJ and sang, "I wanna live with you even when we're ghosts. 'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most."
The words you sang rang true as you sang them. The way JJ herd the way you meant what you were singing.
JJ continued to the next verse and mouthed, "I'm gonna love you till my lungs give out."
The two of you swayed as you danced. You were wrapped up in one another and slow dancing.
"This is our song now," You grinned.
"Of course baby it's ours," JJ responded.
You gave JJ a hug as your dancing came to an end. He secured his arms around you and squeezed tightly. He than proceeded to kiss your forehead.
***flashback ends***
JJ and the pogues were all back at the château outside enjoying each others company.
"What should we do today?" John B asked.
"I don't know we could go to the beach," Pope suggested.
"Y/N always loved the beach." Kiara reminded everyone.
At the mention of your name JJ froze. He felt his heart stutter. JJ hearing your name crushed him.
"Yeah she always loved looking at the waves," Sarah stated.
"I wish she was here with us," John B commented.
"Can we actually not talk about Y/N right now," JJ spoke.
"Right sorry JJ," John B apologized.
Everyone did end up going to the beach. JJ however looked glum. All his friends noticed his strange behavior but no one commented on it.
Truth be told JJ was thinking about you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind. He was reminiscing about the times you had together. He missed you a lot and he had no idea what to do about it.
————
It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo
Mm, too young, too dumb to realize
That I should have bought you flowers
And held your hand
Should have gave you all my hours
When I had the chance
Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance
***flash back***
JJ wasn't stupid. He knew that having a catch as good as you was lucky. He also knew that in order to keep you he had to treat you right. He also had to do special things for you.
JJ was young and he didn't have that much money. Coming from the cut, he felt he wasn't worthy of your love. He was poor and came from nothing, therefore would not amount to anything. He sometimes felt like he didn't deserve you.
You were at the grocery store and when you first walked in there was a bunch of bouquets of flowers in buckets. "Oooh look how pretty!" you exclaimed.
You picked up a bunch of sunflowers and held them to your nose. You inhaled and JJ watched as you did so. He couldn't afford anything more than food. So as embarrassed as he was he took your hand and ushered you away from the roses and to the food aisles. "Come on let's go."
JJ dropped your hand once you reached the food aisle and didn't hold it again. You went to grab his hand when you were leaving the store but he put his hand in his pocket instead, silently dismissing you.
When you got back from the store you decided to hang out at the château. You and JJ were on the couch relaxing when you thought of some things to do together.
"Hey J, do you want to go have a picnic?"
"No not really," he replied.
"Ok do you want to go surfing?"
"No I got some stuff to work on actually, I'm gonna head out," JJ got up to stand and walked out without even kissing you goodbye.
————
A week later there was a party at the boneyard. You were really excited to go because you loved parties. You loved the atmosphere and the energy. You liked to mingle and talk and most of all dance drunkenly.
You were in the hammock at the château wondering what you were gonna wear to the party today when JJ approached you. You were happy to see your boyfriend and excited to spend time with him at the party.
"Hey baby, I have some bad news," JJ announced.
"What is it?"
"I can't take you to the party today."
"Why not?" You questioned.
"I have to help John B with something, it's really important and I'm really sorry." JJ expressed.
"Ok well can't I just go without you," you figured.
"What? Are you crazy?! No you can't. I won't be there to protect you from all the guys that hit on you. No way. Not happening." JJ seethed.
"It's not like I will accept their advances. I won't engage with them. I just want to dance," you replied.
"But what happens when guys come up behind you and take hold of your hips and have you grind on them," JJ raised a brow.
"Like that will ever happen," you countered.
"You never know."
"So there's no way in hell your letting me go to this party?" you asked again.
"Nope." JJ put his foot down, crossing his arms.
"Please go away so I don't tell you off."
JJ walked away without another word and you laid in the hammock wondering what you did to have not earned his trust.
You ended up not going to the party per JJ's wishes and you were sad about it. You ended up stuck in your room watching romantic comedies.
***flashback ends***
Now my baby's dancing
But she's dancing with another man
JJ was at the bonfire. He was dragged here by John B. He wasn't really in a party mood but he decided to get something to drink. JJ got a beer from the cooler and leaned against the wall assessing the party.
What he didn't except was to see was you dancing with Rafe. You were holding hands with Rafe and twirling from side to side. You were in your own little world. Rafe was swinging you in and out from his chest and dancing to the music.
JJ was about to spit fire. He was seething. Out of all the people you could be with you chose Rafe. JJ was no angel but he wasn't anything like Rafe. Rafe was evil, pond scum, terrible and JJ was protective, calm, laidback, and nice.
JJ watched you dance with Rafe with a scowl on his face. He wasn't happy. That should be him. He should be the one that has you in his arms. He should be the one making you laugh. He should be the one you choose. He should be the one you dance with.
Rafe didn't deserve you. No one was worthy enough for you except him. He hated seeing you dance with someone else. He thought back to when you wanted to go to a party and he said he wouldn't take you. He felt bad and guilty about it because you most likely wanted to dance with him.
JJ had half a mind to go over there and fight Rafe. He chose to stand there watching and biting his tongue. Then something happened that JJ didn't expect. Rafe grabbed your face and lowered his head to place his lips on yours.
JJ was fuming. How dare he kiss you in front of him. JJ wasn't thinking clearly maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his veins but he made his way over to where you and Rafe were.
JJ stepped up to the pair of you and tapped Rafe on the shoulder.
"What the hell is your problem?"
"My problem? You wanna know what my problem is oh I'll tell you my problem," JJ pointed an accusatory finger at Rafe.
Then JJ looked on your direction and saw your apprehensive face.
"JJ don't do this," you begged.
"I think you can cool it with the PDA," JJ grumbled.
""Or what?" Rafe stuck is tongue against his cheek.
"Or else i'll fight you." JJ crossed his arms and getting up in Rafe's face.
"Oh I'd love to see you try," Rafe responded.
"No we don't we don't need to see it," You gathered Rafe and tried to pull him in a different direction.
"Count your blessings JJ," Rafe spit out before walking off with you, arm thrown around your waist.
My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways
Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life
Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh
And that haunts me every time I close my eyes
***flashback***
The château was empty besides you and JJ. The other pogues were at the beach, leaving you two alone. The sun was setting dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in pink and orange.
The air was crisp and chilly. The breeze from the screen door drifted into the room making you shiver. It was almost the evening time and you were sat on the couch.
JJ was in the lounge chair next to you, smoking a blunt. There was something bothering you and JJ was oblivious to it. You sat there with an annoyed look on your face waiting for JJ to notice.
It wasn't until JJ was done with his blunt that he looked on your direction. He had been busy thinking about work. He hadn't noticed your irritation until now.
"What's the matter?" JJ asked.
You let out a big sigh. You were tired, so tired of putting up with JJ. You believed he wasn't treating you right. It was always all about him. What he wanted to do, where he wanted to go. He was always boasting about himself.
"Nothing JJ, I'm just tired," you responded.
"Well something must be bothering you if you keep looking at me like that," JJ reasoned.
"Alright fine, I'm annoyed at you for being so selfish all the time," you frowned.
"What do you mean?" JJ questioned.
"I mean it's like you don't even care about me anymore. Sometimes you hurt me and you don't even show remorse. You don't care how your behavior impacts me," you huffed.
"So you want to change who I am?" JJ was shocked. He didn't know where this was coming from. He thought everything was fine between you two. He didn't know this had been brewing for a while.
"No, I'm just saying I don't appreciate how you've been acting." You replied.
"Right because I've been so bad," JJ scoffed.
"I'm not trying to criticize you I'm trying to better our relationship by helping you realize the problem," you explained.
"Sounds like you are," JJ countered.
"Well i'm not."
"Whatever Y/N," JJ stated.
"JJ stop being a jerk and listen to me," you begged.
"What?" JJ looked at you like he was annoyed.
"I can't keep putting up with you," you said exasperated.
You got up, and walked outside fed up with JJ's attitude. JJ quickly followed you outside. He was determined to prove to you he was a good boyfriend.
"Y/N! Y/N! wait," JJ called out.
You spun around with a angry look on your face, "JJ I'm done I've had it I don't want to be with you anymore," you were done with his behavior lately and you needed your space.
"Y/N, please I can change, I'll do better," JJ pleaded.
"Those are just empty promises," you spat.
"No they aren't," JJ argued.
"JJ I give up. You know things haven't been good between us for a while. I think it's time to call it quits," you sadly said.
"But I still love you," JJ cried.
"I love you too, but I don't think that's enough anymore," you sighed.
"Goodbye JJ," you spoke softly.
As you turned around and started to walk off, a tear rolled down JJ's cheek. He knew it was over, you ended things and it was entirely his fault.
*****flashback ends*****
JJ was reflecting on your relationship. Ever since he lost you he been beating himself up. Every time he closes his eyes he sees your retreating figure leaving him.
JJ knew he made mistakes, he knew he was in the wrong and made a mess of things. He wanted to win you back desperately. But he also knew you were with Rafe now. You have moved on.
It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo
Mm, too young, too dumb to realize
That I should have bought you flowers
And held your hand
Should have gave you all my hours
When I had the chance
Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance
JJ thought about your relationship from the beginning to the end. It was truly magical. The beginning was glamorous and fun. The newness of it brought a sense of excitement.
Falling in love with you was one of the easiest things JJ could have done. You were perfect for him. Your relationship was filled with adventure and love along with joy.
When JJ first saw you he was immediately hooked on you. There was something about you that made him feel something in his chest. When you two started talking he was over the moon. Eventually since there was sparks between you two you started dating.
Dating you was like sunshine at the beach. Warm and inviting, along with happiness. It was all sunshine and rainbows for the most part. Towards the end is when everything went downhill. But JJ tried his best to be a good boyfriend for most of the relationship.
You were his drug. Without you he was nothing. You made his days better and brighter.
He got caught up in the highlights of the relationship that he didn’t realize he was sabotaging it.
JJ wished he bought you flowers. He wished he was more caring and didn’t act like a dumbass near the end of the relationship. He wished he gave you more attention instead of throwing himself into work.
Now my baby's dancing
But she's dancing with another man
Although it hurts
I'll be the first to say that I was wrong
Oh, I know I'm probably much too late
To try and apologize for my mistakes
But I just want you to know
JJ wanted to apologize for his actions. He felt bad for what happened and felt like he could of fought for you more.
How can he apologize when you are with Rafe. JJ doubts Rafe would let him even get close to you, which made JJ feel even worse.
JJ was replaying your break up in his head over and over. He wasn't over you and it had been months. He kept thinking there was something he could of said or did that would have prevented the break up.
At work at the country club, girls would come up to him and flirt with him. They would ask him out and of course he would turn them down. There was only one girl he wanted to go out with but he blew it.
JJ was depressed. He went to work and back to the château and slept most of the time he wasn't working. John B would try and get him to go out with him and hang out, to get out of the house but JJ turned him down every time.
JJ was also hurting. Even though it was his fault that everything went wrong he still loved you. He was lost without you. Other than sleeping and work he also started drinking and smoking a lot more. He was a hot mess.
I hope he buys you flowers
I hope he holds your hand
Give you all his hours
When he has the chance
Take you to every party
'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance
Do all the things I should have done
When I was your man
Do all the things I should have done
When I was your man
Rafe was in his kitchen when he saw that the mail came. You were still peacefully sleeping and Rafe didn't want to wake you. He took the stack of envelopes and looked through the mail.
It was mainly just bills but then he saw a letter addressed to him. He decided to open it, and what was inside he was not expecting.
Rafe,
I know you don't like me and that is valid but I feel that it's important for me to tell you these things. I also feel like you might throw this away so I encourage you to read this. Do it for Y/N if not for me. I know you care about her so I trust you will do the right thing.
Y/N is breathtaking. In every way. Treat her with love and kindness as well as respect everyday. I know I should have treated her better and it's something I will regret for the rest of my life.
I expect you to keep her happy. I don't want you to take what i'm saying lightly. Y/N deserves the world and more and if you can't give her that than move on. I assume you think you can give her the world so I have some very important tips.
She likes bubble baths with coconut scented products. She likes extra hot chamomile tea at night time. She likes to have bonfires at the beach after watching the sunset. She likes to slow dance in the kitchen. She likes getting her nails done.
You should get her flowers every once and a while because she lights up when she sees them. When she's mad she will shut you out but let her come to you. When she's sad be her shoulder to cry on. And ice cream also helps a lot. Her favorite is cookies n cream.
When you feel like she could use a break because she's a hard worker treat her to a spa day or something. She doesn't loose her temper often but when she does listen to her. She will most likely apologize first in arguments, but don't always let her do that.
She's scared of thunder so make sure to be attentive and extra kind when it's storming. Sometimes all she needs is reassurance so be there for her and reassure her as much as you can. Her love language is physical touch so be there for her in ways that support her needs.
Hold her hand in public, it makes her feel safe. When you are at a party she loves to dance so make sure you dance with her. When you feel like you're becoming possessive trust her she would never do anything to be disloyal.
Love her with your whole heart because she deserves it. Treat her like she's the only girl in the world. Treat her like a princess. I know I could have done a lot better as a boyfriend so she deserves better than me. And I hope to god for your sake that's you.
-JJ
Rafe was shocked. He decided not to tell you about the letter because he didn't want to bring up old wounds. So, he tucked the letter away and went to go cuddle into you.
#Spotify#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#outer banks#obx#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x reader#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank x female!reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj outer banks#jj obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj x reader#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks x reader#outer banks fluff#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fluff#obx fanfic#rafe cameron x y/n#jj maybank x reader blurb
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Concert Tickets. | L.DH
— Prologue: “Y/n I think I’m gonna marry you.”
— Summary: Your boyfriend Donghyuck is a massive Bruno Mar’s fan, so you bought two concert tickets.
— Genre: Romance and fluff. Kind of suggestive(?) concert date!bruno mars <3. Based on the events of Bruno Mars doing the Korea concert. Lots of making out. Established relationship. This is just couple goals. Healthy relationship. Haechan clingy boyfriend.
— Notes: Stan Bruno Mars tbh.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
So you did a thing.
Your boyfriend is a massive Bruno Mar’s fan. He probably has more albums to prove that. He would blast music in the car all of them are Bruno Mars songs. He loves everything about the singer and so on. You knew for a while that he wants to go see Bruno Mars live performing at some point in his life so you decided to do something surprising…
Something that could make him feel like the happiest man alive on earth.
You didn’t tell him at all actually. It was pretty hard to not tell him for a week because you bought the concert tickets for Bruno Mars but you wanted his reaction when he gets to the venue with you. So when the day came you told him you’re seeing someone else and Donghyuck didn’t reject your invitation.
Although he didn’t seem the most thrilled to be seeing someone else, you could only smirk deep inside. You knew he wished it was something you know, more exciting in a way? But you couldn’t help but laugh inside your mind.
When you got to your stand area and the lights turned off Donghyuck stood next to you in the darkness. “So who is it we are seeing again, Y/n?” He can’t lie he forgot. Did you even mention it?
You don’t reply and only smirk because he cannot see your expression in the darkness and you just stay quiet until the sudden lights on the stage in front of the crowd reveals the singer. Donghyuck took a long minute to have a moment of being absolutely shocked. It was his idol. On that stage.
He looks at you wrapping his arms by your waist slowly as if he was in disbelief that you managed to get the tickets. The concert tickets to see his idol and you could only smirk watching him sheepishly. It was very hard to keep this a secret from him.
But you must say it’s worth it. His reaction was speechless and you loved the overhaul of happiness capturing on his beautiful face.
“You like it?” You ask him with a proud grin. He looks at you as if that’s even a question. “Are you kidding? I freaking love it what the heck, Y/n.” He was in disbelief.
You actually brought him to a concert to see his favourite singer.
“No way.” Donghyuck gasps with his palm and leaves his hands to wrap themselves around you. “Bruno Mars? Y/n… you’re being for real?” He even asks you in such confusion. You give him a nod and he jumps up a little before engulfing you into a warm embrace. When the song Bruno Mar’s started playing ‘Marry you’ plays on he gets even more excited. That was his top three favourite songs aside from Versace On The Floor and When I Was Your Man.
To see your boyfriend filled with such child-like happiness it makes you feel happier knowing he was the happiest person you ever saw.
He danced along to the song even and you couldn’t help but giggle seeing him become so excited from a mundane mood to the complete chaos of struggling to contain his love for Bruno Mars. The crowds sang and danced along to his songs and so on. You were doing the same and you felt even more engulfed by Bruno Mars too.
You like his songs, Donghyuck made you a big Bruno Mars fan so you’re taking in this experience as well. You’re glad you could get this opportunity to see him live too. His songs are to die for if you’re honest.
When the moment was so filling Donghyuck couldn’t help but take glances at you. He admires you from the side when you’re not paying any attention on anything but Bruno Mars on stage singing his heart out. He saw the love in your eyes and he couldn’t hold back from now sneaking his hand behind your back and around your waist pulling you closer where he now suddenly leans forward to capture a kiss on your mouth.
The kiss was sweet and exhilarating to the point you didn’t expect it but you welcome it like it was your own home. You close your eyes kissing him back now. Your hands fiddle with the grey Celine hoodie he wore and enjoy how good the kiss felt. Your hearts pace at the same speed and moment. You feel the love he has for you, perhaps it increased, maybe it increased the more he was so happy and grateful to have you.
When the kiss pulls the both of you out. Donghyuck looks down into your eyes. Your body stay in the same position but your faces were only an inch apart and he smiles down at your beautiful face. He loves the look in your eyes you’re giving him now.
He whispers now to your ears. “Y/n I think I’m gonna marry you.”
There’s no way he won’t marry you now. You bought him the tickets to see his idol performing live. You did something beyond his happiness and love for you could reach.
Donghyuck has no idea how he can repay your gift. The love he had for you was growing more and more to the point he thinks, you might be the one he’s going to settle down with.
He probably is going crazy, but it’s your doing. You’re making him a hopeless romantic for you.
“Oh? All It took you to propose was Bruno Mar’s tickets?” You jokingly said back raising your eyebrows at his proposal and he smirks tightening his hands around your hips and leans down giving you a gentle peck that was somehow still deep too. He was pouring all his heart and feelings into the actions he does.
He adds softly against your lips. “I would be mad if i don’t marry you after this concert.”
Even the hands holding you so tight in that embrace, it held meaning for you, you can tell he was so happy that he might as well die of happiness. You’re only getting second hand happiness from seeing your boyfriend be this loving and grateful. You could tell from his eyes that he feels like tearing up even but those tears were all from the shock and joy that you did something this big for him. No one has done this for him but you made it happen.
And he will forever remember this moment.
When the next song started to play it was ‘It Will Rain’ which automatically makes the atmosphere more slow and romantic, as well as emotional. Everyone in the crowd sang along the lines. And Donghyuck’s attention turns to the song playing as he held you with an embrace.
The moment was perfect and he will forever remember this, he makes sure of it. Donghyuck turns to look at you now with a little smirk.
“It’s our song.” He says with a soft chuckle.
It was your song. You smile when you listen to the song now playing and you rest your head against his shoulders closing your eyes.
“Thank you so much Y/n.” He softly now adds as he brushed along your hair from your face as he saw you’re resting your head on his shoulder while the other free hand was around your back waist holding it like a curve. “I love you so much.” He softly whispers kissing your head.
You smile. “Anything for you, Hyuck.” You look up at his slowly with your eyes and your lips reach to kiss his cheek. “It’s worth it seeing your excitement for Bruno Mars.”
He chuckles. “Oh please. Tell me anything you want and I’ll repay you.” He now said turning to you fully as he leans closer watching your beautiful lips and your eyes one by one moment.
You could see he really wants to do something for you back but if you’re honest you don’t even want anything back. You don’t want your boyfriend to give you anything but just his full love.
“Just kiss me, that’s enough for me.” You smirk and Donghyuck scoffs a little gently as he hears you. “I’d kiss you until you drop dead, you sure you want that?” He said now taunting you like it’s a threat that was incoming.
You cannot help but enjoy how tense he makes the situation and he has you wrapped around his fingers with this and so you smirk nodding confidently. Donghyuck enjoys it when you are so confident in yourself but he knows deep down you’re going to crumble like a broken biscuit when he actually does kiss you. You will drop dead by the end of it and you knew that this might be the case.
But you don’t mind it. You wouldn’t mind dropping dead to his kisses at all.
Donghyuck now kissed you passionately when the fireworks happened and you feel the moment was so slow and it paused for you because the way your boyfriend’s lips explore yours like there will be no tomorrow makes you question if the world was ending. You kissed for so long that the next song was Locked Out Of Heaven. This song describes your kiss with Donghyuck exactly perfectly. People singing were now disoriented from your mind and the only thing you focus was on your boyfriend’s breathing and heartbeat.
He brushed along his hands on your jawline and kissed you so much you feel your lips turning red but you didn’t mind that, you like the sting, you like the burn and you like the pain he brings. It’s a different type of pain you wouldn’t mind getting. Donghyuck brushed through your hair away as he tilts his head further in the kiss and he can feel your own throat hitch in the process of how good this must be feeling for the both of you.
He wanted to hear you say you wanted it all, but even without physical words he knew by your body you want all of it. Which is what just makes Donghyuck kiss you even harder while the moment was as romantic as it can get with his favourite idol singing live and the one and only person he’d want to spend this day with, is none other than you.
Once he pulls away he can see your eyes giving you a dizzy vision from how long and hard he kissed you. He held your face with his both palms on the sides of your cheeks and he smiles down seeing that he really did kiss you until you were dropping but thankfully he held you with his loving hands.
He whispers. “Thank you for the Concert Tickets, Y/n.”
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.<3
#nct fanfiction#nct smut#nct x reader#nct u scenarios#nct hard hours#nct series#nct recs#haechan fic#haechan smut#nct haechan smut#haechan scenarios#haechan headers#haechan soft hours#haechan imagines#haechan drabbles#haechan hard hours#haechan hard thoughts#nct dream smut#nct moodboard#nct dream#nct u moodboard#nct u smut#nct fanfic#nct 127 smut#nct masterlist#nct scenarios#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream fic#nct fic
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NSFW Steven Headcanons
₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ���˚⊹♡ ∘₊
warnings ✩° : smut NSFW headcanons, cursing, mentions of porn, mentions of fingering, mentions of hickeys.
pairing ✩° : steven conklin x fem!reader
authors note ✩° : thoughts...thoughts? no thoughts rn...
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If there's one thing Steven will never fail at doing with you, it has to be teasing you. It gets worse when you two are alone and doing vaguely sexual activities, because he just gets so antsy and 10x worse in toying with you.
Multiple 'oh yeah?'s and 'oh really?'s, numerous, 'uh huh's and 'no go on's. Sometimes it pisses you off, but you know he's just joking, so it's all in good fun.
Steven is so dirty minded and jokes about perverted things, but when it actually comes down to doing them? He's got his tail tucked between his legs. It's not that he wouldn't do all the things he told you he'd do over text, it's just that to him, that's all they were : texts. Now, he's actually gotta do them, and he's nervous.
When his nervousness ends and after he's talked your ear off with some nonsense while kissing you, that's when things get serious and he feels confident.
Steven's favorite place to kiss you is between your boobs, or on your chest really. When he's going down on you and coming back up to kiss you after you finish, he plants kisses all up your stomach and stops at your chest to place multiple hickeys on your skin.
Steven finds pleasure in getting marked, and since he takes his shirt off a lot...and people see them...it just makes him really happy.
Can't decide if he's an ass man or a tits guy...Steven will slap, smack, or grab your ass passing by, but he loves looking at your tits SO much. Why make him choose?
Really good with his fingers.
Steven really likes experimenting, but he usually brings up these ideas right in the moment, asking, "Hey do you wanna try something I saw on TikTok?" which can kill the mood sometimes. Most of the time you don't care and just let him try it and it ends up being really good.
He enjoys sex, as anyone would, but what really makes him satisfied is knowing you're enjoying it too. He loves pleasing you and making you feel like you're taken of first. He doesn't do quick fucks and definitely hates hookup culture, but that doesn't really matter because you're his girlfriend anyways.
Steven exclusively fucks you at night, or when it's dark and when no one is in the house or in the dorm. He just likes his privacy. He likes the blinds shut and lights off, with some LED lights on or a lamp so he can see you better.
Additionally to all that, Steven has a sex playlist that's named 'getting freaky' with the water droplets emoji, the tongue emoji, and the purple devil grinning emoji. When she showed you and saw your face of disgust, he screamed jokingly that it was purely ironic and just to listen to it, while shoving his phone in your face as you're choking on laughter.
Said playlist includes songs by Bruno Mars, The Weeknd, and Chase Atlantic mostly, but there are some stragglers from other artists. It's all just banger after banger (giggles).
During heavy make out sessions or sex, Steven plays the freak playlist, which is good background noise, but for the most part you don't even pay attention to it. Strangely, when you hear certain songs playing outside of that playlist, you're instantly reminded of Steven and get turned on knowing what he did to you during those lyrics.
Something he does to that playlist is actually following the rhythm and beat to some songs when he kisses you or is rubbing up and down your legs.
Steven, of course, isn't the most serious during sex. He teases you a lot, hums the lyrics or belts out into song, and makes you laugh too much to have super serious sex. Slipping up and messing up is something he does so dorkily that you can't even be bothered wanting serious sex, you like him just the way he is. Sometimes if he tries to be dead serious, you get a little unnerved.
Watching porn together is something you both do when you're not horny in the slightest. Your head will be resting on his chest and he'll be rubbing your back with his laptop open just watching the most intense porn clip with straight faces. Steven will break the silence asking if you want to try it, only for you to smack his chest.
After sex, he loves seeing you wear his clothes. His boxers and sweaters mostly.
After care consists of hugging him from behind as he leans on the counter dialing a pizza place, eating said pizza with a movie on, and cuddling for the rest of the night.
#kaicubus#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp x reader#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty x reader#the summer i turned pretty headcanons#tsitp steven conklin#steven conklin tsitp#steven conklin x you#steven conklin x y/n#steven conklin x reader#steven conklin#steven conklin headcanons#smut headcanons#x fem!reader#x reader smut
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Can I request some head-cannons for the Bucci Gang (jjba) with a female reader who’s like Kanao from Kny? Where she can’t make choices for herself and represses her emotions as a old defense mechanism due to past trauma/abuse she endured?
Sorry that this sounds weird 😭
Ah, my first jjba ask (I was rewatching part 3 recently haha), thank you! It doesn't sound weird at all, no worries ^^.
Bucci Gang x kanao!reader
Giorno
If you're part of the team, you two probably joined at around the same time. Probably the easiest person to befriend outside of Bruno, Giorno's definitely more of one the chill side of the group
He won't push you to show emotions and while he may not fully understand your childhood trauma, he's had his own bad experiences that might help him see where you're coming from
When he starts realizing he likes you, he probably won't say it upfront and instead opt to show them in small gestures like giving you flowers from time to time. It's really wholesome haha
It'll be like baby-steps for the two of you. Like mentioned before, he won't push you to show emotions but he will definitely encourage you to make decisions by yourself. You two might start out with small decisions like what gelato to get without using your usual coin toss. It might take some time, but he'd rather let you get comfortable with expressing yourself than forcing you to
I think outside of those things though, Giorno would admire you for your resolve. Thinking about Kanao's personality, I feel like you would have a lot of resilience especially in combat. Overall though, he's extremely patient with your tendency to not show emotions, and he hopes that you'll find yourself breaking free from your past by being with your newfound family
Bruno
Very similar to Giorno except he's a bit more outgoing. Probably the one that you get close to first along with Giorno, and he's also the one that you might go to when you ever feel like you need some comfort
Also someone who won't push you to show emotions. He's good at reading people, so he didn't ask a lot about your tendency to not speak up or make decisions by yourself. He's happy to help you decide, but he also tries to get you to make decisions yourself through slow steps.
Definitely a little protective of you, though only Abbacchio will likely notice this haha. He's sort of like the mom of the group and so while he understands you have the full potential to protect yourself in a fight he also just doesn't like seeing you get hurt.
I feel like his love language is quality time and he likes to listen to others. When you feel comfortable talking to him more often, he'll definitely listen to you with undivided attention. He's just super caring 1000/10 like even if you don't think you need something if he sees you eyeing it the item will appear at your door the next day haha
Overall he'll make you feel at home. He doesn't want to ask about your past in the case that it makes you uncomfortable, but he wants to help you overcome your tendency to suppress emotions and not make decisions by yourself. Though it may take time, he's patient.
Abbacchio
I feel like he would be annoyed with you at first but at the same time not, like he thinks to himself "at least you won't be as loud as Narancia and Mista are." He won't put you through a "test" when you first join like he did to Giorno, but he won't give you a nice introduction either. He'll just stare at you for a bit before going back to his own business
Super emotionally constipated but will be nice to you. He'll be in denial that he likes you for a long time before suddenly it clicks one day. He won't have the courage to tell you upfront, but he'll definitely try to drop hints (it doesn't translate very well though so you might've heard he likes you from another teammate haha)
When he finds out about you inability to decide, he'll be a little more blunt about asking why that's the case and might be a little harsh with how you need to start making decisions yourself. He's patient and won't push you to talk about your past, but he also wants to help you out. Might ask Bruno for help. The same thing goes with your inability to express emotions. While he doesn't mind overall, he also wants you to feel free to express yourself. How he goes about helping you might start out with you two talking, and while he doesn't like to talk that much, if it helps you ease up a little he'll have no problem
I feel like he would be super protective of you too, though it's not as subtle as he wants it to be. He says he doesn't like pda and then when he thinks strangers are staring at you he'll put an arm around your shoulders for example.
I think he understands how painful it is to think about the past that he really doesn't want you to think too much about those experiences. Outside of that however, I feel like he would enjoy doing quieter activities with you like listening to music together. It's also a way for him to see if you express any emotions depending on the songs you two listen, you might catch him staring at you haha
Fugo
He wouldn’t have been super annoyed at you first because of how he likes quiet from time to time, but he did find your indecisiveness a little tiring. That doesn’t mean he dislikes you
Tries to help you but similar to Abbacchio he won’t be super friendly about it. He’s more like a kind teacher, strict and not cutting corners but at the same time giving a helping hand. He knows how much childhood trauma can hurt and how it can be hard to move from. You two might end up having to help each other
He doesn’t mind you not showing emotions but he’s also emotionally constipated. He wants to tell you he likes you without ruining your friendship, which means he ends up staring at you for a long time, maybe he’s trying to tell you through telepathy who knows. He also shows his affection by giving you random bits of knowledge when you two are together
When you start to warm up to him he’ll be happy. He’s surprisingly gentle with you too, which might surprise Narancia and Mista who are used to his more cold and prone to outbursts. Speaking of which, he tries his best to keep his cool around you in the case that loud noises is something triggering.
Though he can be a bit pushy when trying to help you overcome your tendency to be emotionless or indecisive, he ultimately is a great friend and bf. Might be a little protective too, which might get him some teasing from his other two dance buddies
Mista
He honestly thought that it was a little weird how quiet and emotionless you were but at the same time really didn’t mind. He’s seen all sorts of people and he’s close to Giorno who’s pretty quiet himself.
Super talkative, which means you end up listening to him more than the other way around. He’s also got a sense of humor, which might’ve led you to laugh from time to time. By the way he really likes it when you smile, thinks it’s super cute and will let you know when he sees it for the first time (he’s not scared of anything)
He’s patient at well when it comes to your tendency to not decide for yourself. Similar to some of the others, he’ll help you slowly build confidence by starting with smaller decisions like what cold cut meat to give to his stand.
Speaking of which, Sex Pistols is surprisingly clingy to you too, might be a way you found out Mista likes you if he didn’t tell you himself haha. They might help you show some emotions or make decisions too, they’ll also talk to you a lot
He doesn’t want to push you too much in case it becomes stressful so he doesn’t ask much about your past or make big strides to help you overcome trauma. However he’s definitely a bright character to be around, helping you loosen up a little bit
Narancia
He’s really similar to Mista. Narancia didn’t think it was really weird that you were emotionless or indecisive but he might’ve pointed it out at the start. He thinks it’s a bit odd that you don’t react that much in the beginning to any of the team’s antics but gets over it pretty quickly
Narancia’s a kind person, but he might ask questions sometimes too much. He might catch himself causing you to remember some really bad things which he immediately apologizes for, it’s a learning process for him but nonetheless it’s clear to you he’s interested in getting to know you better
Has a hard time hiding his crush that he gets teased on by Fugo and Mista. He might’ve gotten you a bunch of snacks after you mentioned to him how you liked a certain brand, or he is constantly clinging on you. Overall it’ll be easy to tell
Doesn’t have the greatest patience but he is caring. He doesn’t want to stress you out but wants to encourage you to make your own decisions. Will ask a lot of questions to help him choose things. He also tends to be talkative, which might help you bring out your emotions more too
I feel like he’ll be a little protective as well. He’s sort of hot-headed, so if he sees someone looking at you the wrong way he has no trouble going up to them and throwing insults (or fists). He wants you to feel safe in the gang like he did when he first joined, which will mean you’ll have someone behind your back.
#jjba#jojo part 5#vento aureo#golden wind#jjba headcanons#jjba x reader#bucci gang#jjba giorno#giorno x reader#jjba abbacchio#abbacchio x reader#jjba bruno#bruno x reader#jjba fugo#fugo x reader#jjba mista#mista x reader#jjba narancia#narancia x reader#anon ask
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on fake pep and pizzahead
an essaypost because as far as i'm concerned pizzahead is dead and gone postgame. i know he isn't really and as far as the credits show he Does just kinda show up to lurk around peppino's sometimes, but i do not like or care about him enough to explore that encounter in art or a comic </3
if i did though this would be the vibe
now not to be misleading, i don't think pizzahead was ever outright mean or abusive to fp or anything, but he has a pretty strong track record of being neglectful and Not Really Giving A Shit, so... i don't exactly think their relationship was great either.
i mentioned on the post about the peppinos postgame that fake pep's nervousness mostly stems from him being very Unsure about everything- being a test tube baby and only ever knowing the tower --specifically mostly just bruno's where there was never anyone around+the labs which, while not a warzone in the traditional sense for him, still had him largely in survival mode and didn't give him any room for learning and self-actualization and whatnot--means he just Does Not Know much about how anything in the regular world works, and really he's missing a lot about how to contextualize his own experiences as well. being a fucked up unnatural Thing certainly doesn't help either, as there's no one else around that's like him in that way to learn or take cues from [the war clones weren't really sapient enough to glean much from, so closest he's got is real pep, which... only goes so far]; not to mention most people's reaction to anything he does is fear, there's a language barrier, i could really keep going here but the point is he just doesn't really know how to handle himself around people, which makes him Very Anxious.
this is ESPECIALLY strong anyone he perceives to have some kind of authority over him. peppino and pizzahead both are chief among these, and where i said a lot of the reason he gets on well with peppino because there is zero emotional guesswork with pep, the express opposite is true with pizzahead. you never know WHAT that guy is thinking. sure he's all smiles and silliness, but that doesn't translate to approval when fp has no doubt seen pizzahead committing The Atrocities while acting giddy as ever.
now for what it's worth, i do think pizzahead like, Liked fake pep; and at the very least was proud of him as like, his prized creation or whatever. not sure how much i'd say he respected fp as his own person outside of that but honestly even if he did it doesn't matter much given how... aloof he is with all his minions/employees anyway. nonetheless, his cheeriness towards fp wasn't disingenuous. as i see it, his giving fp his own little shop/attraction to run more or less how he pleased and making him the last and strongest guard to prevent people from getting to floor 5 was meant to attest to fake pep's potential and the prestigious place he would hold in his pizza empire.
unfortunately fp didn't know enough about ph or his motives, or even what he himself was supposed to be doing to understand it like that at all. i feel like pizzahead stayed pretty busy trying to get the tower ready for business; hardly any of his underlings really got much of a chance to talk to him, much less ones with whom he didn't have to work out things like "job interviews" or "financial compensation" and that sort of thing. fake peppino certainly knew who pizzahead IS, but i don't think they ever actually talked or interacted enough for fp to even so much as know his name. fake pep's perception of the events was more or less that they just shoved him in a dingy old shop for reasons unknown and told him not to let anyone upstairs, also for reasons unknown, and also to ESPECIALLY not let the real peppino up there. [with as pointed a target as peppino had on him by floor 4, i feel like it's not a stretch to say fake pep was given some kind of specific warning about him lmao]
besides lack of clarity about his purpose though, i think the most pressing question fake peppino would have for pizzahead, had he the nerve to ask it [which he doesn't], would be "why did you make me like this?" he's seen the other peppino clones, he's seen peppinoreal, he knows he's the odd one out. he knows he's supposed to Be Peppino, or be like peppino, or replace him, or something like that; but as far as he can tell he's just, by design, very bad at it. why would pizzahead make him bad at it? he's clearly capable of making more on-model clones, so what gives? did he just not care? was it some kind of sick joke? hell if fp is ever gonna know.
and to reiterate, pizzahead very much considers fake pep his prized creation; a new and improved Better Peppino, taller, friendlier, always has a charming smile, etc. These were intentional choices and meant to be a positive thing, but without knowing that context, fp is only ever going to see these features as flaws.
it's part of an overall 'inferiority' thing. see, as i see it, most of fp's existence has been defined by failure. failure to guard floor 5, failure to stop peppino [twice!!!], failure to Be peppino, failure to, i don't fuckin know, not become best buds with peppino??? surely that was not in the lesson plan. but anyway, basically everything fp had been given any real instruction to do, he has failed at.
obviously not a great feeling, like, in general, but a hell of a lot worse when confronting the guy who GAVE him that instruction in the first place. and even more so when, again, he can never read pizzahead's mood and well and goddamn aware of the atrocities this motherfucker has committed. [which to be fair ph would not actually do anything awful to fake pep; he'd just be like, mildly disappointed at worst. but as with everything else, fp does not know that]
fake pep as i play him is not particularly given to reflection, but i'm sure by now he's at least realized that the tower was not a great situation and/or that there was some fucked up shit going on in there....at this point I don't think he knows what he feels towards it or pizzahead.
the tower is still very much the first place he called home; bruno's was in some sense "made for him", and it wasn't exactly his choice to leave. he's also never been given an explicit reason to hate or distrust pizzahead, but on the flipside, his living around peppino has just been like so much better in every way, and again- this is the guy he had been told was a danger and given explicit instruction to stop. there's also something to be said for how hes gotta be aware of how much peppinoreal fucking hates the tower... i don't really have a coherent way to wrap this up, but like, you get it. It's Complicated™ and he's really not going to confront it unless he has to.
for the most part though, i... really don't think he's going to have to confront it. his life is a lot better now and there's little reason for most of it to come up; none of his past failures really matter here, and in some sense they're even celebrated; peppinoreal is far more glad that fp doesn't actually look or act much like him, so even if it still stings a bit somewhere in the back of his mind, maybe it's not so bad he's his own person.
anyway. to further clarify the image at the top, it's not peppino deliberately defending fp; it's peppino being "kill on sight" at pizzahead, and fp readily deferring to peppino's action because he is absolutely not figuring out his feelings on [gestures broadly to everything else in the post] in the moment, and pep is obviously a hell of a lot more ready to handle this situation than he is.
And a quick last tldr to clarify what I meant by everything else in the post,
#pizza tower#fake peppino#pizzahead#i will get to SOME of this in fp's comic with gerome but it's largely skirting around the meat of it here#as that's more about his time in the tower overall than specifically his dealings with pizzahead#pizzaposting#also if anyone is surprised how negative this is given what my comics are like.... lol#i like to make the funny silly happy soft content but always remember. there is Always a melancholy behind it.#ESPECIALLY if i can project really hard LOL. we are coping#it's always so funny to me when ppl say they like my characterization or that im good at it bc it's like#idk man im just out here talking about my issues#also this is not the essaypost i mentioned making the other day but this one has been in drafts for 3 months lmao
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heyy! hope you’re having an awesome day so far, heard that your requests are open so i’m just gonna jump straight into it 😂 ok, could i get some headcanons of any of the bucci gang members taking notice of how the fem! reader (their crush) likes a certain artist/group (no need to use a specific one), whether it’s because she has posters of them in her room, she occasionally hums their songs, or the boys took a glance at her phone one time and see her listening to their songs, and so they decide to listen to that artist/group, regardless of whether or not it fits their music taste, so they could have something to talk about with the reader (i just started imagining abbacchio with his resting bitch face and headphones on, and people thinking he’s listening to rock but nope, he’s listening to k-pop girl groups LMAO) tysm! 🥰
THIS IS SO CUTE YES YES YES OKAY!! I hope you enjoy!!! <3
Bucci gang x Reader
Noticing your music
Bruno
For someone so observant I think it would take him a moment to catch on to who your favorite band is, the smaller stuff like the posters CDs humming wouldn’t be lost in him he’d just not connect it till you are having a lovely afternoon lunch with him and chatting about music (I think he’s a smooth jazz, classical, and maybe even some reggae something with feeling as long as that feeling is sensual)
He takes about 50 mental notes after he connects the dots. This would be a great vantage point to get closer to you. So he asks more questions than you expect, not that you mind.
As soon as he’s alone he’s researching and listening to everything he can. It’s different, sure but he likes it. Plus it’s directly connected to you so he is already inclined to love it.
He casually hums a tune around you to get you to perk up and start a conversation with him and he will take the invitation to discuss and turn it into you two spending the day with each other.
Mista
Knows you like a certain artist but didn’t realize how much till he caught sight of a record for the band and off handedly bought it for your birthday. Figured it could be a safe bet. Once you got it he was more than happy that you got so excited and hugged him over it.
After that he made it more of a point to listen to them and other artists like them and truth be told he started to like them a lot more than he thought he would. He would casually slide in close to you on a large couch and mention that he heard a song claiming it as superior.
He’s looking for any reaction really. If you disagree he will enjoy fake arguing and seeing you get riled up or if you agree he will lovingly gaze at how you excitedly explain why you agree.
Congratulations you made this dude pay more attention to your likes not just music but anything because he got addicted to the sight of you so excited on your birthday he wants it to be constant.
Narancia
Has probably heard the band's music already and probably has a strong opinion on it, I’ll say he disliked it at first… till he heard you sing the god awful lyrics. He was so mesmerized by you to make fun of your music taste. If you liked them they can’t be that bad right?
So he starts listening to them again and then he starts relating lyrics to you. All of a sudden it’s his favorite band too. He will steal posters or little items of that band for you and present them like you were lucky he was in your life.
Soon enough when you're singing to the songs he’s making it a duet and will make you dance around with him. He is so happy that he decided to listen again because there really is nothing better than twirling you in the kitchen.
Abbacchio
Noted your music taste and favorite band before you even had a full conversation with him. He of course probably didn’t like it. It wasn’t the worst sure but wasn’t his cup of tea.
This man is down bad though. I think he’s the type to be pinning after someone silently so that person would never know but he sure as shit do. So he’s so down bad for this lady that he extends out of his comfort zone and listens to it anyway.
You and him would be at a table together by “coincidence” (he learned your schedule and keeps subtly inserting himself into it) and he would very discreetly direct a conversation to music and prompt you to talk. There’s nothing he loves more than to listen to you talk.
He’s the only one who won’t say he listens to the band that’s a secret he keeps. That little piece of you he enjoys in his solitude. He doesn’t feel too lonely then.
Giorno
Clocked it so fast! Bro probably knows your likes and dislikes after the first day of encountering you. He’s terrifyingly observant. And so quiet about it too. He speaks up when it matters though! He would watch you put on a song that you played 5 times in the last week. He knows that because he’s firmly planted himself in your daily routine. Kinda like abba but so much more. He’s not too subtle with showing up in your life.
He is the only one that doesn’t listen to it in private. Instead when he notices a song he will ask about it and the band then ask to listen to more with you. He prefers to do this activity right near you. Listening to music in silence then discussing as if it was a philosophical debate.
Afterwards that band is listened to by him when he’s separated from you. Since he planted his roots into your life that means your firmly stuck in his now and he doesn’t quite like straying from that now so listening to your music suggestions gives him some reprieve from agonizing silence.
#jjba x reader#jjba part 5#vento auero x reader#bruno bucciarati x reader#narancia x reader#mista x reader#abbacchio x reader#giorno x reader#bucci gang x reader#jojo headcanons#golden wind x reader
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bh6 au bh6 au bh6 au!!! AHUAHSF but heya, hope you're doing well, and we dont have a specific name for this au yet, mayhaps we can find one but yesyes bh6 au!! (i am going insane /lh) me is attempting to write rn hehe <3
BH6 AU💪💪💪
It’s so cool, me and the asker have been working on it <333 instead of gifts, they specialize in certain tech and stuff 🗿
Basically Pedro is there. And it’s Antonio’s presentation at the college (he’s still 5, they’re all prodigies and presented at 5, except Mirabel who presented a little later cause she hadn’t decided her science concentration yet 😭😭). Anyway, Pedro sacrifices himself to save Señora Guzmán and boom died.
Alma hid the project he was gonna show the family that he was working on for a long time: Baymax. Basically Mirabel and the grandkids find him and he’s chill, helping them grieve and stuff. The pressure for this au is Alma taking Pedro’s saying “someone has to help” as the family needed to use their tech and intelligence around the city to help other people. And never expand on their tech. Always the same thing.
Anyway, here’s their sciences (all the Madrigals, including the husbands + Alma and Oedro are like. Literal prodigies, mostly in science, but other stuff 🤧):
Fields of Study:
pedro - robotics
alma - forensic engineering
-------
julieta - health sciences
agustin - language and literature
pepa - meteorology
felix - sociology and music
bruno - physics
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isabela - botany
dolores - acoustics
luisa - kinesiology
camilo - neuroscience
mirabel - psychology
antonio - zoology
—————
There’s so much more about this au but like. That’s the gist of it <333 if you guys have any ideas LET US KNOWWWWW ‼️‼️‼️ the adults actually later becomes hero’s and funnily enough they’re all hiding it from each other and Alma is entirely clueless 😭😭
Well, the grandkids become super cool heros and obviously Baymax is there (I didn’t draw him YET 💀) and here are their designs <333 COLOR COMING TO TUMBKR DASH NEAR YOU📸📸
Here’s their tech and stuff:
Isabela, maybe something similar to Honey Lemon, but she uses the chemicals of different plants that has different (non lethal) effects? She throws pollen pods like honey lemon does and whatever plants she makes all disappear after a certain amount of time or something, oh and her vines she uses to swing ofc, they're very durable. CARBON FIBER VINES ❗❗
Dolores, maybe she uses soundwaves and sounds in general, and uses something similar to a giant megaphone and speaks; does a lot of knockback.
Luisa, I feel like she would have attachable enhancements, kinda like gauntlets and boots that allow her to further utilize her strength and stamina etc etc
Camilo, maybe his tech tricks the mind, lots of illusions and stuff, and he definitely has a camouflage suit, so he's good for stealth and sneaking up on enemies. He might also go beyond from just people, might even have animals and objects too since its really illusion (mayhaps an upgrade later down the line in their endeavor) Ohhh, a upgrade would be really good and show how he (and the others) develop his tech further
Mirabel’s tech works with Baymax, so it's pretty similar to Hiro's, though I think she would be a jack of all trades as well. Also mentioned in what i wrote that she has a bag of tech goodies (inspired by her good ol bag in canon and also that one ask i saw about her magic bag)
Antonio, like I said before, uses robot animals. He builds them and sends then out, controlling them maybe via a headset similar to the microbots, and the animals have cameras so he can see what they see. I think maybe when he builds P.A.R.C.E (the giant robot jaguar; a.k.a Precision Automated Robotic Companion Entity) the other grandkids will let him go out to battle. Also lets him be at the final battle.
Still working on the adults 🤭🤭🤭
#my asks#my asks are open#encanto#encanto au#au#encanto mirabel#encanto antonio#encanto isabela#encanto dolores#encanto camilo#encanto Luisa#encanto alma#encanto Pedro#bh6#bh6 au#big hero 6#big hero six au
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How about 🍨 and 🌺 for Narancia, Bruno, and Abbacchio, please?
Yes! More requests with them! 😊 You don't know how happy I am that you asked for these :)
🍨 Are they more chill about their relationship or a bit more possessive towards their S/O?
Uhm...Abbacchio is rather...Contradictory when it comes to this, to be honest.
This is because, like I mentioned before, he has an hard time fully accepting that he's fallen for someone, even after confessing to you for a bit, and he categorically refuses to come off as clingy or obsessive.
On the other hand...This man is deeply afraid of losing you. He's already lost someone who was dead to him, and he would never forgive himself if the same thing were to happen to you.
So, at the end of the day, he WILL be a bit possessive, but never in an explicit way. So, you may either not notice, or if you do, he'll be able to deny everything.
~~~~~~~
Something Bruno truly values in a relationship is reciprocated trust and respect. He feels safe in being your partner, as he deeply believes you'd never leave him, and he'd never leave you, so he doesn't feel the need to be obsessive over you.
Besides, he cares about group harmony, tries his best to act as a mediator and make everyone get along. He wants you to care about the ones around you too and doesn't wish to only keep you to himself, despite how tempting it may seem sometimes.
Although Bucciarati does check on you quite often, whether it's through messages or phone calls, if he gets even a minute of break from an important...Ahem, business trip. He has your safety at heart and worries about you a lot when he's far away.
He's watching over you even from a distance, and rest assured that he'll fill you with attention any time he can actually be close to you.
~~~~~~
Listen, I'm not going to deny it: Narancia is the sweetest, cutest, most affectionate boyfriend you'll ever find, but he will be very clingy and rather possessive too from time to time. He's this way without even realizing it, he just cares about you more than anything else.
Once you become part of his life, he can hardly even imagine a world that you're not in. He'll go in full ass denial if you were to brought up even the remote possibility of the two of you not being together forever.
Needless to say, it obviously comes from his trauma. This boy will do anything to see you smile, to always make sure that you're cared for and that you have some company when you're feeling down...Or you know, just in general. He just...Wants to be with you, he's being left behind and abandoned by too many people, his mind just can't stand the thought of losing you too.
If he does get a bit overbearing...Try to talk things out. Narancia will always be willing to listen, even if it may hurt at first. But at last, he'll realize that if he really wants you to be happy, you're going to need some space too.
🌺 Do they believe they deserve their S/O or sometimes feel like the latter is too good for them?
Do you really think Abbacchio thinks he deserves anything or anyone that brings him joy?
No, absolutely not.
This man genuinely does not understand why you'd ever choose to be with him. I'll tell you more, he wouldn't get why you would even just talk to him, when he specifically acts to keep everyone away and not let anyone get close.
Why do you insist in being with him so bad, no matter how much he had tried to push away, and even knowing about his self destructive habits? He thinks you deserve someone more...Functional than him, you could say.
What amazes him the most, is how you still remained by his side after eventually finding out about his past. He thought that telling you this, you would have inevitably started to see him as a horrible person...Yet you didn't.
And while he may be taken aback by this decision...Deep down, he couldn't be happier you took it.
~~~~~
I think that with Bruno such problems would hardly ever emerge. He does his hardest to be a good partner to you despite his job and considers you his equal, he thinks you're both deserving of love.
Don't take this the wrong way though, it's not that he doesn't think you're special, he really does. He just feels a very deep respect for you and is faithful you feel the same way. He's truly glad to have you by his side, but he also sees that you seem rather happy with him, so he doesn't think he needs to worry about him being "undeserving" of your love...
...Most of the time. This is because Bucciarati's heart can't help but ache every time he tells you he won't come back that night, or that he doesn't know when he'll he able to leave his office. He knows it pains you too, and this is the only time he wishes he was someone...A bit different, someone who could give you all the affection you could ever wish for.
Please, show him your patient side and that you're not mad at him, when he comes back. It'll be more enough to soothe his worries away.
~~~~~
Narancia abandonment and self-esteem issues Ghirga? Ohh boy you're in for a ride-
This boy doesn't really...Feel very deserving of love in general. He's deeply scared and scarred by negative experiences. Despite how much he doesn't want to think about it, he does live in fear of you growing tired of his presence, leaving to find someone better.
And to be honest...He wouldn't even blame you. He knows he's not as charming as Bruno, as flirty as Mista, as bright as Fugo or as tough as Abbacchio. Why would you...Why would you ever choose him? He doesn't think he has anything to offer you that you wouldn't be able to find somewhere else. He's aware that he can be childish and annoying, even if he doesn't mean to be.
Some cuddles and comfort words will be more than enough to distract him from these thought though. When you're there, he just knows that everything is okay.
#jojo vento aureo#jjba part 5#jojo's bizzare adventure vento aureo#jojo golden wind#buccigang#naranciaghirga#jjba narancia#jojo narancia#narancia x reader#narancia ghirga x reader#narancia ghirga#abbacchio x reader#jojo abbacchio#abbacchio leone#jjba abbacchio#leone abbacchio x reader#leone abbachio x reader#leoneabbacchio#bruno x reader#bucciarati bruno#bruno bucciarati x reader#jjba bruno#brunobucciarati#bucciaratibruno#jjba bucciarati#bucciarati x reader#jjba x y/n#jjba x reader#jjba x you#bucci gang x reader
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what your favorite jojo character says about you !
these are my takes on what kind of person you are based on your fave ;)
jonathan- you’re way too good for this world and i will protect you with my life!! you always choose the “nice” option when you’re playing an rpg/otome. i bet you cry during movies. you’re a dog person but you’re not annoying about it.
speedwagon- you’re either the kind of person that has a waifu unironicly or you’re too afraid to disagree with other peoples opinions. you were for sure bullied in school for liking anime and never really recovered .
joseph- you think you’re the funniest person in the room but in reality have the sense of humor of a middle school boy and everyone thinks you’re annoying. you have no idea how to act in public
ceaser- you most definitely get bitches.
jotaro- you’re either too horny for your own good or youre the kind of person who automatically chooses the most basic mc because it’s the safest. you probably never outgrew your emo phase and i guarantee you read lots of hardcore smut in middle school.
kakyoin- you use the word milfs way too much. it’s actually kind of annoying. please shut up. on the other hand you know how to dress!! for some reason every single kak stan knows their way around fashion. your probably an avid markiplier enjoyer.
avdol- you had a crush on zuko in middle school and i bet you carry a lighter everywhere. you don’t smoke or anything you just carry it to carry it. you’re like super mature for some reason and you are the brains of the friend group most likely.
polnareff- you’re a bit dense but we love you anyways. you have zero clue how to express your emotions. please stop letting people trauma dump on you :( you don’t deserve it babe
iggy- shut THE FUCK up
josuke- you are the coolest person on earth. you have no flaws. you are a god.
okuyasu- you’re the dumb friend. i’m sorry to tell you like this but someone had to. you make up for your lack of brain cells with your big heart <3 i bet you know lots of random facts about uselessness things as well.
rohan- you’re the biggest bitch i have ever met/pos. you definitely had a devianart phase that you only outgrew because you got bullied or met some scary ass people on there. you’re kind of a weirdo but that’s what gives you your spice.
koichi- you act innocent and kind but you’re a bitch too/ also pos. i bet your AO3 history is full of insane amount of hard smut or hurt/bo comfort.
giorno-you’re either a dope ass person who’s actually super genuine and everyone wants to be your friend. OR you’re a super annoying anime fan who says shit like “but can he beat goku though”.
mista- you’re a stoner. i have not met a single fan of this man who does not smoke. you either smoke before every little thing you do and mention it to every single person on this planet. or you’re down low about it and just kind of go about your life.
narancia- you are still a child. you didn’t really mature correctly and i bet it’s because of some traumatic event that happened during childhood that forced you to grow up. please go to therapy i will be your therapist. also liking sharp things and setting things on fire is not a personality trait.
fugo- you’re a red flag but in a good way(?)you always try to see the best in people even when it’s clear they are the worst person on earth. you definitely have anger issues because you suppress your feelings until they explode out of you. you give really good hugs i think.
abbacchio- you either want a big titty goth gf or are the big titty goth gf. you never left your emo phase and you definitely had a behavior problem in high school. please stop dying your hair every month it’s going to fall out soon.
bruno- you’re most DEFINITELY the mom of the friend group. everyone comes to you with their issues but you’re too afraid to put your issues on someone else because you don’t want to burden them with your feelings.
jolyne- you are most DEFINITELY lgbqt emphasis on the L. you most definitely have issues with one or both of your parents.
hermes- COME OUT OF THE CLOSER PLS!!! we all already know you like girls just admit it we are going to love and accept you no matter what.
foo fighters-autism
#i bet some of these are spot on#this is alll a joke#kind of#also i’m a josuke stan#if that isn’t clear#jojos bizzare adventure#jonathan jostar#robert e o speedwagon#joseph jostar#caesar zeppeli#jotaro kujo#kakyoin noriaki#jean pierre polnareff#iggy jjba#josuke higashikata#okuyasu nijimura#koichi hirose#kishibe rohan#giorno giovanna#guido mista#narancia ghirga#abbacchio leone#bruno buccerati#jolyne cujoh#hermese costello#foo fighters
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So, another Encanto AU I have is a canon divergence one.
So Bruno leaves before Mirabel is born, and leaves a note for Alma, basically saying he's leaving because of the way he's been treated by her and the village at large. He actually leaves the village and never comes back, and it makes Alma come to terms with the fact she messed up earlier and she decides to change for the better and reconnect with her family.
Julieta is still resentful of her mother for a combination of the past treatment and that she was one of the main reasons Bruno left. Though she's also mad at herself that she didn't do anything.
When Mirabel is born, Julieta keeps her away from Alma as much as she can, despite Alma only wanting to know her newest granddaughter. Mirabei is also autistic officially in this AU, so she's not much of a talker when she grows up yo be 3-5.
I haven't really gotten the details of Alma’s relationship with the rest of the family after Bruno left, but she will have a better relationship with a good chunk of the family. Julieta is the only one who actively dislikes her, with Augustine and her children conflicted as to what they should do.
Love a good canon divergence!
The idea of Alma trying to redeem herself, but it being a little too late (for some of the family) does have a lot of potential. Alongside the idea of Bruno actually leaving and making it more obvious to the family; lots of angst to be found there.
My main queries are:
I don’t get why Julieta would keep Mirabel so well-protected and separate from Alma, but not extend the same treatment to Isabela and Luisa. Yes, they are older, but you think she’d protect all three of her girls even if the older two didn’t get what was happening or saw their Abuela as a good person.
Nor does Agustín liking Alma make any sense. He’s the closest in the film to having a dislike or, at the very least, not an overly positive relationship with her. He is the one who fully stands up to her and defends his kids from her. I see no reason why he wouldn’t take Julieta’s side and try to keep their girls separate from her. If anything, it seems like it would be the other way around.
Similarly, there’s no mention of the warm family, but I understand that you haven’t fully worked out the details of the relationships yet.
Mirabel’s also a newborn baby when most of stuff happens, so this isn’t really relevant to her. Possibly there could be something in Julieta finding out about Bruno’s leaving and the shock sends her into early labour/possible miscarriage - depending when exactly his disappearance occurs before Mira’s birth. Then you can add the loss of a child to Julieta’s struggles as well. (The more interesting figures would be the ones who know Alma’s previous behaviour, to make the comparison of the change).
Again, I am really intrigued by the AU’s premise though and I’d love to do it. I just think some minor details need to be worked out and it needs a name (but don’t feel you have to come up with one). So, if you have any suggestions or thoughts, let me know!
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The Real Yugioh Best Friend Characters
Like how Seto Kaiba was the rival prototype, Joey or Jonouchi was the best friend prototype character.
I have seen debates in yugioh gx and yugioh zexal spaces about who is the true rival character (Chazz vs Ryo and Kaito vs Shark). But you don't really see the same debates for the best friend characters. So I want to give my opinion.
First, what are my main characteristics of a BF character?
The protag's soulmate. Someone who shares a deep emotional and/or spiritual connection with the protag. Their stories intertwine.
Someone who is always on the front lines with the protag. Whether in the form of tag duelling, giving tough love encouragement or being a hope to the protag in low points. Brothers in arms.
Someone who is very protective of the protag and vice versa. A friendship where both are willing to die for each other.
Simple enough I hope.
Yugioh DM - Joey Wheeler / Jonouchi Katsuya
No explanation here. No one even comes close to Joey in OG Yugioh.
Yugioh GX - Jesse Anderson / Johan Andersen
Syrus / Sho is meant to be the best friend character to Judai. But he fails on many levels. He is more of a cheerleader type than a true best friend. Syrus hardly helps Judai in anything - in fact, Syrus abandoned Judai in his lowest moment in season 3 (don't care if he was influenced by the curse, the curse only exaggerated existing feelings). It becomes even more laughable when he and that dino guy fight over Judai in season 2. Judai can't count on Syrus when his back is against the wall and if Syrus was more like Joey, Judai would not feel so overwhelmed with everyone depending on him 100%. The exchange students were better friends to Judai in season 3 than Syrus.
Unlike Johan. Judai and Johan are soulmates from day 1. They are equals and they both have a lot of similarities and Johan inspires Judai. When Johan goes missing, Judai's world crumbles and Judai is a madman trying to save him. Not to mention the battle royal with Fujiwara was epic. I did not fully watch GX so I don't know all the Johan and Judai moments but I understand why people ship these two together.
Johan is Judai's true BF, not Syrus.
Yugioh 5Ds - Bruno
I have not fully watched 5Ds but I know the general plotlines. I don't have much of an opinion here. Crow Hogan is supposed to be the best friend and Jack the rival. But I am not impressed much by the Crow and Yusei friendship. Maybe it's because of Crow's late introduction in season 1 and how it felt like Crow and Yusei parted ways before the season began. When I think of Crow, I mainly think of his domestic spats with Jack.
Yusei and Bruno had an instant connection and it was so cute how Yusei was able to geek out with someone. Bruno's death scene still makes me cry on the inside man. Seeing Yusei cry at the end is gut-wrenching :'(
I wish Yusei had a BF like Joey. My main issue with 5Ds is that Yusei is always the one giving - like with Aki and Kiryu. And Yusei's season 1 friends were completely forgotten in favour of the Signers. Yusei deserved better.
Yugioh Zexal - Reginald Kastle / Ryoga Kamishiro
Bronk is supposed to be the BF character. However, like Syrus, Bronk fails to live up to the role for similar reasons. His connection with Yuma lacks any deep impact.
But Shark...Shark is the best. Can I just pause and gush about how much I adore Shark? This dude is one of the best characters in Zexal. Shark is both rival and best friend and I love it! He's like Joey in that he starts off as a bully but Yuma saves him through friendship and camaraderie. Like Yuma did not chase after anyone the way he chased after Shark :'). And my boy Shark is so protective of Yuma. He lost his soul against Kaito, trying to protect Yuma's key. He protected Yuma in the Faker and Mizael fight, getting seriously injured. Shark has Yuma's back people. And the way how Yuma and Shark give each other hope in their lowest moments...oh I love these two so much! And then when Shark is revealed to be Nasch, a Barian, the emotional rollercoaster these two go on. Shark was there at Yuma's side to face Don Thousand and being Yuma's last antagonist was so beautiful. Shark and Yuma are soulmates and Bronk can't even compete.
Shark is Yuma's true BF, not Bronk. And I would argue that Shark is Yuma's true rival, not Kaito. But let's not get into that.
Ultimately, Joey and Shark are my favourite best friend characters. Every guy needs a bro like Joey or Shark in their life. And Bruno actually died for Yusei. The friendships in Yugioh are amazing, so good.
#yuma tsukumo#yugi mutou#antinomy#joey wheeler#katsuya jonouchi#judai yuki#jaden yuki#johan andersen#jesse anderson#syrus truesdale#sho marufuji#yusei fudo#crow hogan#yugioh 5ds bruno#bronk stone#shark zexal#reginald kastle#ryoga kamishiro#yugioh#yugioh duel monsters#yugioh gx#yugioh 5ds#yugioh zexal#bronk and syrus are fake best friends#yugioh best friend characters#yugioh friendships#yugioh bromances
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An alternate take on "Encanto" (2021)
Back to my rewrites! Everyone raves about this movie, but I've got some things I'd rework, personally.
Have Luisa and Isabela play larger roles in the story with Mirabel. It was easy for me to forget Luisa was Mirabel's sister since they don't really interact much, and she and Isabela need more time for their arcs to fully flourish. Examples include placing "Surface Pressure" later in the film so that her breakdown is more gradual as she keeps bottling up her emotions, as well as Isabela's breakdown being less obvious and more of a surprise to the audience, as she's more convincing about going along with Alma's wishes. We could also get a scene where Agustin comforts Luisa after she loses her gift, having a similar moment to Fa Zhou and Mulan.
2. DON'T FORGET ANTONIO! It was stated that Antonio is like a little brother to Mirabel, but he weaves in and out of the story, his most important role being discovering his powers and providing Bruno with a new vision cave in his room. It'd be fun to see him tag along with Mirabel, Luisa, and Isabela.
3. Flesh out Dolores' feelings for Mariano, and make Mariano feel like a person with substance. She only mentions it for short periods of time in WDTAB and AOY, and it comes across as very unsatisfying. When she confessed to him, I was like "Oh yeah, I forgot she liked him." Plus maybe alter Mariano a bit; the general vibe is that since he has a lot of love to give, he's quick to rush things, but I like the idea that he gets to know people a bit better to show he's serious about being in love (and idk if Dolores was serious about him wanting a lot of kids, but I think that'd also be a factor for him being careful with who to give his heart). With Mariano, he's kinda used for laughs, falling in love at random and being Isabella's punching bag twice, with Mirabel referring to him as a big, dumb, hunk. He's more of a plot device than a character. I'd probably rewrite him so that he has a crush on Isabella, which his mother (or was she his grandmother) encourages similar to Alma pushing Isabela. Given his romanticism and similar mindset of pleasing the family, he essentially only focuses on Isabela since he thinks the marriage is happening without question and tells himself to only focus on her perfectionism, inadvertently stifling her individuality.
4. Embrace Mirabel's parents more. A big part of the story is how alone Mirabel feels, but at times it makes her parents look bad. They pose for a picture without her and they don't stand up for her until AFTER she goes missing. Plus I feel like their feelings about the family aren't focused on since they've already gotten used to it; seeing how inferior Agustin feels and how as the oldest, Julieta feels like she has to be perfect would've been a nice touch.
5. Dolores has telepathy. Dolores knowing what everyone says at the EXACT moment they say it as well as knowing that the rats were concerned about the magic despite lacking animal communication (though Antonio could've told her, she mentioned it like she knew it firsthand) feels like she has telepathy rather than purely having superhuman hearing.
Lemme know what you think! I may edit this later.
#encanto#mirabel madrigal#the family madrigal#isabela madrigal#luisa madrigal#bruno madrigal#disney#disney animation
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hello helo hellooo !!! there's been so many new followers lately so i thought i'd do a reintroduction . . .
hello !!!!! my name is ying ς꒰ ˊ˘ ˁ ⑅ ꒱ა i use she/her pronouns & im eighteen turning nineteen this year !!
im currently studying social work and hoping to work towards a masters in counselling or youth work :–) i love working with children and youth hehehe
ying's thoughts
i am probably the biggest laufey fan i know . . .
im a lover of the ocean, of lamp&ichikoaoba-core, of pink and coquette, and of the ocean ( have i mentioned that i love the ocean yet? ), of ghibli movies & scenery, of a good glass of moscato rosa, of a lovely sunrise and sunset, of warm sunshine and warmer hugs and even warmer coffee ( i get mine extra hot ! ) and the warmest people !!!!
i like putting ribbons on packs of cookies i give to my friends because #coquetteprincess , and i lovelovelove baking and cooking esp if its for friends and family !!! my favourite things to bake are chocolate chip cookies because of my failproof recipe, but one day i'd really like to delve into tarts and pies !!
i love making coffee – i have a barista setup at home and i can do latte art as well. i like singing in vc and playing the guitar and creating discord servers ( half of the servers im in are empty test servers)
&&&... i lovelovelove wriothesley, alhaitham & xiao ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
ying's writing
i have tried writing angst but it never comes out as well as i do fluff, so majority of the time, i tend to write fluff / heartwarming fics. or at least i hope it comes across that way !!!
i usually write short fics or simple drabbles because i am not the most consistent writer . . . big fan of starting series and eventually forgetting about them oops . ( for the laufey series no worries friends, im actually writing it YIPPEE ! )
ying's music taste
LAUFEY !!!!! ichiko aoba, lamp, taylor swift, jeremy zucker, bruno major, lany, lizzy mcalpine, lyn lapid, niki, sleeping at last, katherine li, lullaboy, ELIJAH WOODS !!!!! , olivia rodrigo, hozier, novo amor, sabrina carpenter, KESHI, keenan te
some extras
my inbox is always open !!!! i do take a lot of time to reply though huhu sorry loves
i reblog ocean posts often . . . i love our girl !!!! feel free to tag me in posts about the ocean :D it'll get added to queue !!
feel free to tag me in tag / picrew games, even if we aren't mutuals !! im always down to play ( even if i take a while to respond )
i use petnames often, especially with my mutuals heheheee
i have a secret sideblog that mutuals can have !!!
nice to meet u all !!! feel free to join the anon family, or drop in and say hi in my inbox yayyy ૮( > ᴥ <)ა
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