#kong takes great pictures
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GODZILLA 1998 (DEFOREAL SERIES) - RIC-BOY NIGHT COLOR EXCLUSIVE
I'm not a fan of this iteration of Godzilla, but I need something to represent it in my collection, and this repaint release works for me. However, I couldn't bear to take shots of this thing, so I had my assistant take photos for me.
#xplus garage kit toy#godzilla#godzilla 98#xplus#deforeal#collection#hobby#vinyl#kong takes great pictures
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- Stop worrying and do it 💧
steve harrington x reader
+18 smut, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, soft steve to softdom steve, fluff
You finally get steve to be all yours after two successful dates... but he is a bit worried about the size of... his hands.
i couldn't help myself after the new pictures of joe keery with his hands out. mother fucker has king kong digits.
anyways enjoy.
You were a patient person. You really were, but you wanted to jump Steve’s bones after matching with him on Tinder. He was so perfect and good-looking, and when the two of you went on the first date? He was such a gentleman, and it only made him even hotter. You were certain he was not into doing stuff on the first date except for a kiss.
The kiss was full of passion, and tenderness, and you wanted to press yourself against him, climb over the console in order to straddle him. He had taken you home, and he was the one to make a move first, but you had to hold yourself back and try not to seem desperate.
Even if you were.
Now on the second date, the food was amazing, his soft kisses while outside the restaurant were enough to ignite a fire in you that you never felt before. The heat between your legs became too great, feeling the stickiness in your underwear. You whispered to him to take you home and he completely understood the double meaning of it.
The two of you had gotten to your home, kissing through the doorway, taking each other’s clothes off as you walked towards your room, which you tidied up just in case this were to happen, hopefully. His tongue swirled inside your mouth as moans escaped your lips when his impatient hands ran under your shirt, gracing your skin.
Your eyes almost opened in surprise when you felt his fingers skillfully, and in one move, snapped your bra open. A gasp escaped your lips while a chuckle escaped his and into your mouth. Your hands ran through his hair as you pulled him closer and closer to you, body flushing on his, as you kept moving towards the bed.
You pulled away, breathing heavily, and turned him around in order to push him onto your bed, surprising him but a chuckle escaped his lips, pushing himself deeper onto the bed, only to choke up as you pulled your shirt and bra off in one move. He was trying to keep his composure but lost it when you got on all fours to crawl over him with a grin on your face, biting your bottom lip.
His pants were straining him, painfully so, and he moved quickly to at least take his shirt off so you weren’t the only one half-dressed here, ever the gentleman. Your eyes sparkled with lust, as you inspected his chest. Hair in the right amount, and pecs slightly formed that expanded whenever he breathed out. You licked your lips as you straddled him as he sat up to wrap his arms around you, bringing his mouth to yours again.
Your hips started rolling onto his bulge, making him moan in between the kiss, and you only whimpered whenever the friction of his jeans rubbed against your core, and it was incredible you could feel him even through your own pair of jeans. It was the right amount of pressure against your clit, and you knew you were soaking through all the fabric that was covering you.
Your lips moved with his, hands tangling with eachother’s, desperately ripping one another’s clothes off. You both needed to see eachother’s bodies, see what they were about to taste. You bit your lips when he hovered over you, already licking and sucking onto your right nipple as he rubbed himself against your clothed pussy.
He was leaking precum and probably staining his boxers, but he couldn’t care less at this point, he needed to be inside of you. He didn’t want to seem like he was there for only this, because he really liked you. You were funny, charming, freaky, and you had your own spark. He wanted to know more about you, crazy to think that after just two dates, you had caught his attention. A lot.
You weren’t far behind, you liked Steve. He had opened doors for you, he didn’t let you pay on the first date, but accepted the split check in this one, letting you feel independent of some sort. He didn’t make you feel like you needed a man to pay everything for you, or do everything, and you were grateful for that. He wasn’t trying too much, but he was doing just right for you.
And he was so handsome. Oh, that was the first thing you noticed in the Tinder pictures. How is this man single you thought at that time. You were drawn to everything, his eyes, his hair, his lips, his fucking freckles, his clothing style, and in the picture where he played his guitar… his hands.
Those hands that are roaming all over your body now, hands that are manly, big, with veins all over, and you salivated everytime you saw when the glass was engulfed by his fingers. You wanted him so bad, so you couldn’t wait for one more date, and it seems he couldn’t either.
You felt him move, letting your nippled go with a pop, so he could be hovering over you but on the side so he could run his hand downwards towards your clothed cunt. You bit your lip with excitement and anticipation and you jerked when you felt him rub onto your clit, slow and in small circles.
“You’re so wet already, fucking hell…” You heard his mumble, almost a grunt, making you smile in your bliss as he kept doing small circles against you, making your hips move upwards into his touch for more, but he was teasing you so it seemed, not doing what you wanted.
“Stevie~” You purred out in warning that you didn’t want to be teased, you were too turned on right now to be played with. He chuckled at your eagerness, giving a soft kiss on your neck so he could move to take your underwear off, sighing with bliss as he looked at your pussy.
If it weren’t for the fact his dick was killing him right now from how hard it was, he would have eaten you out with no hesitation, because that is the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen in his life. He will have to save it for next time, hopefully there is a next time. He returned to his previous position, kissing your neck as he returned to rub circles on your clit, a little faster than before, just a little.
You needed more, you wanted those fingers inside of you, but when you raised your hips for more he backed up. You were a patient person… you had to remind yourself you are patient. You moaned his name in order to catch his attention and he only mumbled on your neck as he kept sucking on it.
“Hmm? What do you need baby?”
“F-Fingers– Fingers– Inside please…” And you could feel him tense up a bit, his movement stopping for just a second before he started again. It felt good, it was feeling good, but why isn’t he doing more? You needed more because your body was getting hotter and hotter and what he was doing was not enough. “S-Steve–”
“Yeah?” He mumbled on your skin again, and you raised your hips towards his hand only for him to move with your hips and not against it. You plopped on the bed with a whine, making him stop and raise his head in order to look at you. “What’s–”
“Get your fingers inside of me!”
You couldn’t be any more blunt. You were afraid you were going to have to spell it out to him, but you were frustrated and needy and what you’ve been wanting him to do since you saw his Tinder profile, he isn’t doing. You saw how his body tensed, pulling his hand away from in between your legs and you groaned in displeasure at that.
“I um…” You could see he was nervous, making you have a little bit more empathy for the guy, only for your eyes to widen, your hands covering your mouth in shock.
“Oh my god, are you a virgin? Oh, fuck, shit, I didn’t– I didn’t know–” At your rambling, Steve only laughed, shaking his head, letting your nerves calm down a little bit more.
“I am not, sweetheart, don’t worry… It’s just… the last girl I’ve been with told me that–” He showed his large hand to you, the one that had been touching you before and you felt your mouth salivate again. “My fingers hurt her.”
Your eyes snapped open in surprise and you looked at him. What?
“I’m sorry… what?” You were surprised, to say the least, because if she claimed his hands are big– “What about your dick? Didn’t that hurt her?”
“Shit, you are straightforward.” He chuckled at that and shook his head. “I didn’t get to have sex with her, but honestly it might have made me a twinge, a smudge, a bit conscious.”
You looked at his hand again and you wanted to prove to him how much you wanted those fingers inside of you. That girl probably was a tight ass making her a prude, because who wouldn’t want these fingers? You bit your lip and grabbed his hand, taking your tongue out in order to drag it base to top on his index and middle finger.
His eyes widened at your action, his dick kicking up again in his boxers and you felt the twitch because it was pressed onto your thigh, making you chuckle as your eyes found his.
“I want these fingers inside of me. Make me cum with your fingers, please Stevie~?”
And oh shit, he was going to comply. He took the opportunity to introduce his fingers slowly into your mouth, and you took them with a smile on your face. He was lubricating them with your saliva as he pumped them in and out of your mouth. He groaned as you moaned and the vibrations were sent to his digits.
He pulled them out of your mouth and leaned down to press a hot kiss on your lips, pulling away with his forehead against yours, his breath hitting your face as he talked.
“Tell me if it hurts.” You nodded at his command, your belly burning with need again as your hips looked for friction. He guided his hand downwards and he coated his middle and index fingers with your slick, going up and down in between your folds. He wanted more lubrication, just in case.
He licked his lips as he kept staring at you to see your facial movements just to make sure you weren’t lying. He slowly started getting his middle finger inside of you, and your mouth fell into a soundless moan.
One finger, and it was a nice lovely stretch. It was so good, you couldn’t even imagine how two would feel like, what three could possibly make you do. You wanted him to move faster and you moved your hips against his hand, and finally, he pushed forward instead of backwards like before.
He started pumping his single digit as your moans started having some sound, and he was deep, oh he was so deep. You smiled in bliss at the sensation and your hips started going in sync with his thrusts. He groaned at the squelching sounds, knowing he made you so wet that it was provoking it to happen.
“It’s so good Steve, oh god, more, more–” Steve bit his lip as he joined his index finger to the mix and your eyes widened at the different stretch. It was fucking delicious. Your belly was burning in need and your moans began to feel choked as he went deeper and deeper with his new finger.
His tempo increased, the squelching now becoming obscene as your back arched upwards, letting him have free access to your nipple. He leaned to take it into his mouth, his teeth biting on it and pulling and well, that was new. He didn’t do that before and you needed him to do it again.
You moaned his name loudly as he bit and pulled again, feeling his fingers going in and out of you as your hips met his thrusts, only to then throw your head back as you cried out in ecstasy. He had curled his fingers and he was hitting your G-Spot perfectly. No person has ever made you feel the way this man is doing right now. He was taking care of you. No one ever cared to do so before.
You could hear him chuckle as your legs trembled, your juices coming out already from how wet you were as you breathed moans out of your lips, his name being in a mumbled mess of noises.
“You like that sweetheart?” You nodded dumbly and your eyes widened when he pressed his hand roughly against you, making his fingers go way deeper than before, and he stayed there, wiggling the first knuckle inside of you. “I asked you something baby.”
Oh… if you couldn’t be more hooked on this guy, you definitely were now.
“It feel– feels good– So good–” You managed to choke out and the pressure left you, but his fingers kept pumping inside of you, the bed of his palm pressing every so often against your clit, causing the soft touch to send shivers and electricity all over your body.
The coil in your belly started to turn, and your legs and body began to shake. You smiled in between your moans as you were finally reaching your climax, your first climax.
“You close darling?” You nodded dumbly at that, muttering a small ‘uh-huh’ and it was there, it was making your belly shrink, your pussy pulse, and then– he stopped. Everything. You opened your eyes alarmingly and you looked at him in question.
“W-Why? I was– I was so close Steve!” You whined in frustration as you tried to move your hips in order to get friction once more, only for your chin to be grabbed roughly so you could look at him again.
“I have one goal now. And I will reach it, so hold it in honey.”
You didn’t know why he was doing this, not only he edged you this time, but again, and again, and you had tears in your eyes already, and at one point he had changed hands and he was still skilled with his non-dominant one. Your body was aching from all the trembles he imposed on you, and you were sure you weren’t going to be able to handle anymore of it.
“Please– Please Steve, let me cum, let me cum, please!” You were begging him, almost crying pathetically and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers rested inside of you, palm resting on your clit as he rubbed it on you, making you moan from the feeling.
“I think you’re ready for that.” And he returned to thrusting his fingers in and out of you, curling upwards and it felt so sore. Everything was overstimulated, your clit, your pussy, your insides, absolutely everything, but he said you would get to cum now, so you were eagerly enjoying his ministrations.
Only to then feel a coil in your belly again, but this time it was a very different one. It felt almost painful, on your belly and going downwards. It felt very weird, something you hadn’t experienced before, but maybe it was because you were sore? Or the edging? But–
“S-Steve, something weird– Something– Oh god…” Your mind was blurry suddenly, his tempo increased at a speed he hadn’t done all night, saving it for last. He rubbed onto your G-Spot repeatedly making your tears fall from your eyes as moans escaped your throat as well as whimpers and cries of his name.
“Yeah? Then fucking cum for me baby, it’s gonna feel so good, cum…” And fuck, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, but it felt so powerful, almost as if you were going to pass out.
“Steve– I feel like I’m gonna–” You can’t finish the sentence, too embarrassed to do so, but it felt as if you were going to pee yourself. He only smirked at that, knowing what was going to happen, and he only did this once in his life, and since you were so eager for his fingers, he might as well take the chance to engrain himself in your mind.
“Let go. Let fucking go.”
And your eyes widened as your hips went upwards, rising completely from the bed, your mouth open but you didn’t even know if moans were coming out at all. You were seeing white, just complete white as your belly screamed and turned and your cunt gushed your juices out in big spurts. The sounds were not wet, not even a squelch, just purely and pornographically wet.
It felt never-ending as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride it out, and finally, you plopped back down on the bed, panting heavily as your eyelids drooped, exhausted but so blissful. You were so light at the moment, like a feather, or a cloud. You felt something on your cheek, and Steve was kissing you, not caring for the sweat all over your face.
“You with me angel?” You heard him with a chuckle and you gave out a breathless giggle, nodding as your chest went up and down.
“Y-Yeah… fuck–” You opened your eyes a little bit more and you finally felt as if your hips were on wet sheets. You looked down and your eyes widened slightly and you looked at Steve who had a proud smile on his face. “Holy fucking shit…”
“You… sure you’re okay?” His soft dominant persona faltered slightly in order to check on you. Your heart was beating wildly thanks to all the action you just received.
“I never squirted before… Holy fuck Steve…” You chuckled again and he followed you soon after, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips.
“If you’re too tired, we can continue some other day–” At those words, you sat up, not caring for how wobbly you felt because of how much that orgasm took a toll on you, and you immediately turned to look at him and throw a leg on each side of his hips, straddling him.
“Oh no… If your fingers do that… I wanna know what your cock can do.”
And Steve only smiled. He is more than happy to comply…
Ever the gentleman.
hope you enjoyed, keery's hands are ginormous
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x fem#steve x you#steve x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington ficlet
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Hi! ☺️ First and foremost, I hope you're doing well. Also, I just recently found your page and I love your writing!
I really liked your post on the super sensitive reader with the jjk men. Can I get headcanons of the jjk men with reader who is very stoic and a little emotionally constipated? Like they have never seen reader cry ever while in their relationship together, but then reader ends up having a hard week and ends up crying from frustration.
jjk men & their emotionally constipated partner
featuring. shiu kong, itadori yuuji, todo aoi, geto suguru x reader
warnings. cursing and jjk men being sweet and soft to their partner <;33
note. hi anon! i'm doing great, hbu love? thank you for liking my works, you don't know how much that means to me, i hope you have a great day! and thank you for requesting, i find this request very interesting <33 also, thank you guys for the big amount of support i've been receiving for the last two days, can you imagine i gained like 140+ followers in that matter of time? i'm going to start violently sobbing istg. anw, i hope u sexies enjoy this <33
SHIU KONG. shiu loves you a lot, even if you struggle in showing the love back to him, he knows you love him a lot. shiu would receive random messages (mostly a picture of something and then you tell him that it reminded you of him, probably deemed as your love language now). i feel like shiu is partly happy that you don't take things into the heart - but at times he'd be very worried about you. you never cry, you almost never get angry at him even if he did something wrong (you'd just tell him it's nothing and you weren't mad, but he sometimes think it's because you didn't want to engage yourself in arguments), and hell, he barely sees you smile at all.
shiu has heard you tell stories about your new work place, which you quote unquote as toxic. and you've been in the company for no longer than three months, but the stories about your very annoying co-worker and your boss never stops. he swore that the topic of your work place was the only thing that could get you riled up.
i feel like shiu would be the type of boyfriend who would tell you to stop working because he's financially stable enough to provide for you, but you decline telling him that you didn't want to live off of him.
shiu didn't force you to stop or quit your job though, he'd be glad to listen to you talk about your days at work.
"y/n? you're ho— darling, what happened?" he saw the solemn look on your face and realized that something must have happened (yet again) at your work place, he dropped the cigar that was lodged in between his lips and immediately approached you.
you shook your head, inhaling sharply before kicking off your shoes, "work, of course."
"is it your boss? or that same co-worker again?" shiu knew that it was either your boss or this one co-worker who doesn't seem to enjoy your presence in the office.
"both." you sat down on the couch, throwing your head back in exhaustion (you were about to cry and the only way to stop your tears from coming out was to just force it back in with your head back), "i'm getting my paycheck reduced this month."
shiu took a seat next to you, "why?"
"i was blamed for something my co-worker did, this is so unfair," your voice cracked a little and shiu pulled you into a hug, you choked out a sob, "this is so unfair," you muttered out, your pent out anger and disappointment finally seeping out in a form of tears.
"hey, shh..." he soothes you, pulling back to see your tearful eyes. he grazed over your cheek to wipe the droplets away, "let me take care of them, yeah?"
you shook your head, "don't have to, i don't want to make this into a bigger mess."
shiu planted a kiss on your forehead, "don't worry about it darling, you trust me, don't you?"
"yes."
shiu had a "talk" with your boss and your co-worker the very next day and your co-worker ended up resigning right after, and your boss, well they never bothered you anymore (and you're getting an extra paycheck for the next half a year).
ITADORI YUUJI. people always wonder how you and itadori ended up with each other. him being this ray of sunshine, and you were like the moon. but he didn't care about what everyone says, he loves you — and that's what matter, right?
wrong. don't think that you didn't notice the enormous shit talking about you behind your back, about how you probably bribed itadori into dating you and what not. usually, you'd shove all those down the drain and forget about it.
but for some reason, you couldn't help but to rethink about what they said. how itadori isn't too fit for you, or how you don't deserve him at all. the only thing that managed to trigger you was how somebody said that itadori deserves someone more "emotionally available" for him, and that person isn't you.
you never liked being emotionally constipated, people always talk about you behind your back, saying how you're so distant and that being the reason you don't have any friends. you keep telling yourself that you're used to it when it comes to you, but when it comes to itadori and your relationship — you feel helpless.
"y/n? are you okay?"
you looked up at him, a glint of worry flashing in his eyes. and you can't help but to feel the frustration building in you as you remember the words people say to you, "yes..no? i don't kno—" you choked out, smacking your hand on top of your mouth at the sound you let out.
it just got worse when you feel the tears you've been penting up for the past few weeks come out. itadori blinked feverishly, a little surprised to see you crying like this. he has never seen you cry before, "y/n..?" he breathes out, his hand reaching out to you, but you moved back, trying to avoid his touch.
the embarrassment you felt was horrid, you hated crying in front of people, even your own boyfriend, "baby," itadori mutters out seriously, grabbing your arms and then pulling them away from your face, "tell me what's wrong. talk to me."
i feel like he knew where this was going, he had a hunch. for the past few weeks, you asked him about why he was with you, why he loves you when there were better people out there (you think). and he knew it was because of what people said.
"i...i just don't think i'm the right one for you, yuuji. they're right, you need a more emotionally available partner."
itadori's face fell when you said that, and he shook his head, pulling you into his embrace. rocking back and forth like a baby, "why would you say that? why would you listen to them y/n?" he asks quietly.
"i...don't know."
he pulled away, brows furrowed and he held your shoulders, "you're perfect for me, i don't give a fuck what they said about you and i. the next time someone says something, i'm going to beat them up," the thing is, he looked so serious you couldn't help but to chuckle.
"you just chuckled.." he breathes out, "my life is complete."
TODO AOI. he's very boisterous, and i feel like he'd be the type of person who would defend his partner everywhere they go. when you accepted his feelings, he was surprised since he never expected you to like someone like him. but he was pretty damn proud of you, and as a boyfriend, he shows you off like a trophy.
telling people about how amazing you are, how you make him happy, or how you treat him nicely. but people are fucking judgmental, some of them don't like the idea of others living happily — and you never thought that "these" particular people would target you next for it.
saying how fucking weird todo is for liking someone like you, and you had to be honest, it did get into you. and so began your avoidance to your own boyfriend, todo.
he hates it. he hated how you changed out of the blue, no matter how hard he tries to reach out for you, you weren't the same anymore and he never got why you decided to change.
believe me when i say that he tried asking his friends about it, or about tips to get you to talk to him. but really, they weren't much of a help, saying how you probably got bored and is avoiding him so he would be the one to break up first with you.
todo didn't want to let the idea of that get into him, but after a few weeks of you avoiding him non-stop, he began thinking the same thing. were you bored of him? did he do something that you didn't like? or is it because he ate the last chocolate chip cookie you were saving up and blamed it on someone else?
so when he got the chance to bump into you, he immediately took it as a chance to ask you about it.
"why are you avoiding me?" you tried ending the conversation right away by going the other way, but man is fast fast so he didn't let you — still wanting to know about the sudden change in your behavior.
todo knows how you didn't like being cornered, or how you don't like talking about the relationship, sappy shit. but if he didn't talk to you about this, todo knew he was going to regret it.
"y/n," he grabbed the back of your collar, pulling you back lightly, "did i do something wrong?"
you were silent for a few seconds before todo's ears perked up at the sound of soft, choked out sobs. you were crying. you were crying. and the panic sinks in, "i..i'm sorry, did i pull on your collar too hard?!" he panics, flailing his arms.
you shook your head, "...no, i'm sorry for avoiding you."
todo stopped his panicking and stood up straight, "i couldn't stop thinking about what people have to say about us, and now that i think about it, i feel like you deserve more than me," todo widened his eyes and looked around.
"who the fuck said that? i'm going to beat them up so bad people won't recognize them," todo mutters out and the corner of your lips tugged upward, "is that why you're avoiding me?"
you nod, "it was wrong. i know i should've said something about it. i'm sorry for avoiding you."
todo laid his hand on top of your head, brushing your h/c softly with a gentle smile, "you're perfect for me, fuck those people," he cusses out, "next time you hear em', don't forget to find out their names— i'm going to give them a lesson for it."
SUGURU GETO. suguru and you are like two peas in a pod. people never see him without you and vice versa, and often people would say that you both are the perfect couple. despite your personalities almost being the same type of calm, suguru is a calm man, and he's soft spoken. while you were just plain cold and stoic, rarely speak of something or even show your emotions.
someone bothering you? okay. someone making fun of you? okay. you were practically a walking definition of "i give zero fucks". but that doesn't mean you can't feel hurt, you are still human after all.
so when suguru told you about how he has a new co-worker, and how she has been clinging onto him, how she tries to get in his pants. you find it cute how he tells you about it, even telling you that you should come to his workplace so he could show you off.
you didn't feel anything because you trusted him. until you see the so called "co-worker" of his. she's pretty, you can't deny that. and you could see how she gets along with almost everyone, having no problem in instigating a conversation or complimenting people. people definitely like her.
that's where the insecurity began sinking in.
would suguru fall for her like everyone in his workplace does? would he leave you for her? so many questions you wanted to find the answer to.
"baby?"
you look at him, completely out of your daydream. he cocks his head to the side, "are you okay? you've been zoning out a lot lately..." he said, voice gentle and worried.
you nodded, "yeah. sorry. got a lot in my mind."
"do you want to talk about it?" he brushes a few h/c strands from covering your face, "you've been a little distant. is it something that i did, baby?"
god, just the thought of suguru thinking it was him made you a little sensitive. the past few weeks was already hard enough for you to contain yourself from breaking down, and him asking that made the tears you held in for so long drop out all at once.
suguru was a little taken aback and he sat straight up, alarmed, "y/n? baby? what's wrong?" he asks you gently, wiping the tears that never ceased from your face.
"i feel..i feel like i'm not enough. you deserve better than me, suguru." suguru swallowed the lump in his throat, he should've known, ever since you came to his workplace, you had started getting distant. and he should've known that was the reason.
suguru shook his head, cupping your face before giving you soft little kisses all over your face, "don't" a kiss on your forehead. "you" a kiss on your left cheek. "dare" a kiss on your right cheek. "say" a kiss on your nose. "that" a kiss on your chin.
the male gazes into your eyes deeply, "i love you," he softly said before planting a kiss on your lips, "you're the one i want, you're perfect for me. i can't see my future without you y/n, so please don't think about that..."
© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#itadori yuuji#todo aoi#suguru geto#shiu kong#jjk itadori yuuji#jjk todo#jjk shiu kong#jjk suguru geto#todo aoi x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#suguru geto x reader#shiu kong x reader#itadori fluff#suguru geto fluff#shiu kong fluff#todo aoi fluff#a lot of fluff#jjk fluff
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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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Sam Goody stores at Universal CityWalk & Horton Plaza (1993 & 1995)
"The synthesis of three distinct merchandising departments for the new Sam Goody store at the Universal Citywalk exhibits a design of dynamic expression by the Jerde Partnership design team.
The new building sits on the center court of an outdoor shopping mall in Southern California. Representing the three merchandising concepts of Sam Goody, the design pronounces each area through unique and interrelated façades.
The customer enters the Popular Music department through an animated, neon-accented color plaster façade. The entrance to the Classics department and the upstairs Coffee Cafe is between two 40 foot high, 10 foot in diameter Corinthian columns within an interpretative classical façade. A 35 foot high, two-dimensional profile sign depicting King Kong climbing the face of a black and metallic bronze tile building hangs over the entrance to Suncoast Motion Picture Company (video).
The central sales environment is referred to as Backstage, and has the character and atmosphere of a soundstage/studio. The two-story space is defined by upper level catwalks and the destination mezzanine known as the Coffee Cafe. A three-dimensional, walk-through Media Wall features music advertising, photos, oversized images, photo lightboxes, video monitors, projected music videos, reader boards and graphic elements.
Media events are orchestrated throughout the day in an ever-changing environment that depicts the trends of popular music and movies. Weather reports, current events and promotional messages continuously scroll by on the reader boards. In-store performances, CD signings and record promotions bring a sense of "an event" to the store. A live VJ/DJ controls all aspects of the store's music and video media, and interacts with the customers.
On a floating piano-shaped level, the Classics department features a state-of-the-art inventory of classical and jazz selections and creates a controlled, intimate area for the customer with special acoustics, localized sound systems, listening stations and lighting. In the Suncoast Motion Picture Company department, tall video columns accent the environment, supporting the sale of videos and laserdiscs. Interspersed throughout the department are video monitors creating the effect of video confetti.
The Coffee Cafe features a wide variety of interactive listening stations and media experiences. It is intended to be an intimate environment where the customer can pause, enjoy the fare, engage in conversation and take in views of the store as well as the street below through its windows."
Designed by The Jerde Partnership
Scanned from: Stores - Retail Display & Design (1997), Great Store Design 2 (1996), Shops & Boutiques (1994)
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Propaganda
Diahann Carroll (Paris Blues, Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess)— Face of an angel. She had the range. She brought chemistry with every romance she portrayed. She also had a great fashion sense, and was so pretty Mattel made a doll based off of her.
Fay Wray (King Kong)— the original scream queen!! she started acting in silent comedies as a teenager and got her first big break when erich von stroheim cast her as the lead in the wedding march. her career started to take off starring in silent movies at paramount, and she survived the transition to sound smoothly - josef von sternberg’s weird proto-noir thunderbolt was one of her first sound films. she began to make horror movies in the early 1930s, such as doctor x and mystery of the wax museum, both filmed in beautiful two-strip technicolor (which looked like this if you're curious. i just think it's neat!), as well as the vampire bat, the most dangerous game, and of course the boy himself, king kong. a little on how she worked with her most famous costar: “Although Kong appeared huge, the full figure was a model covered with rabbit hair, standing only 18 inches tall, that was filmed one frame at a time by stop-motion photography artist Willis O'Brien and his crew. The 5ft 3in Wray only knew one part of the ape's body when she was grasped in an articulated 8ft long hand. Hence the title of her 1989 autobiography, On The Other Hand. ‘I would stand on the floor,’ she recalled, ‘and they would bring this arm down and cinch it around my waist, then pull me up in the air. Every time I moved, one of the fingers would loosen, so it would look like I was trying to get away. Actually, I was trying not to slip through his hand.’” (link)
This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Diahann Carroll:
Another groundbreaking black actress, although she might be better remembered for her television roles. She was also an activist and worked with charities to support women in need.
here she is hanging out with shadow prince anthony perkins :3
Fay Wray:
Actress prominently known for starring in horror, she was one of cinema's original "scream queens". She knocks it out of the park whenever she's with the horror genre, bringing a depth and likability to characters that would other be flat and boring characters.
An early scream queen, name me another woman who could look so beautiful while so disheveled and scared for her life
She was name-dropped not once but TWICE in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She's arguably the original Scream Queen.
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I have now finally seen the Mario movie. It was Pretty Good. Here are my wordy thoughts on it. (I am going to spoil the entire movie. Duh.)
In many ways, the Mario movie does what I wish the first Sonic movie had done. They just took the characters and the premise and the world from the games, and made it a straightforward animated adventure movie. It's bright and colorful and remixes things JUST enough to include fun elements from multiple games, and it doesn't make Mario get adopted by James Marsden or whatever. It even has the music!
That's all you really need, right? Right...?
I'll get this out of the way up front. Chris Pratt was fine. He's fine
If anything, it really feels like they did the movie a disservice by letting us hear so little of the Mario voice in the previews. It took one scene for Pratt to disappear into the role for me. It was totally fine. If anything, I found Charlie Day's normal voice coming out of Luigi WAY more distracting, even if I did like him in the role.
Everyone else was pretty good, for the most part. Jack Black was obviously very good as Bowser, but I'm biased. Seth Rogen does the Seth Rogen laughs as Donkey Kong, but I thought DK was fun, too. (I liked his little rivalry with Mario where he was just constantly giving him shit.) The only casting choice I truly hated was Fred Armisen as Cranky Kong. I hated every line that came out of his mouth. He sounds atrocious. Just the worst. I swear to fucking god if they do a DKC movie and we have to hear him for 90 minutes
I did think Peach was lacking, but that was on the script, not Anya Taylor-Joy's performance. It's cool to see Peach fight, but it's one of those all too common instances where the writers put so much effort into making the main girl kick ass and be an effortlessly confident girlboss that they forgot to give her an actual personality. Not that I'd point to Super Princess Peach and its mood swing superpowers as positive representation or anything, but there's a happy middle ground, surely. Shrek was 22 years ago, just having the princess do flying kung fu kicks isn't enough.
Okay. With the voices out of the way, let's talk about the big picture:
It's way better than the words "Illumination Mario movie" implied, and I mostly enjoyed my time with it. The spirit of Mario is there 100%. But I'd also describe it as "ruthlessly efficient."
This was perhaps the main complaint critics had, and they were absolutely right. People have responded to these totally average reviews with "Well, what did you expect? Shakespeare?! It's MARIO!!" Like, yes, I would prefer it if the movie I paid to see had writing that was good instead of bad. What a shocker. My issue isn't that it's not "high-brow" enough. The problem is that it feels mercenary. It feels like an editor went through and deleted almost every line of dialogue that isn't some form of exposition, at the expense of the pacing. Any scene that's not a montage or some sort of action is kept as short as they could make it, with barely any room for embellishment, character interaction, or anything other than the bare minimum word count to hit all the typical Save the Cat Hollywood screenwriting 101 story beats to the letter. There aren't even as many jokes as you might think (and the ones that are there are extremely hit or miss, including a lot of the slapstick with Mario himself).
Mario and Peach's little arc together in the front half of the film is probably the worst example of this pacing. Even having read reviews that complained about how fast Peach goes from meeting Mario (by her admission the first other human she's ever met) to deciding to train him as the new savior of the Mushroom Kingdom, I was SHOCKED at how fast it was. They don't even lampshade it.
Peach takes Mario straight into the big training sequence where he learns how to use mushrooms and jump over platforming obstacles. Peach is apparently already a hypercompetent platforming pro and a great fighter, so there's no clear reason why she's taking the time to train this random guy to be half as good as her when the world is in danger. Then they set off on their adventure, Toad joins them, and we get a VERY brief travel montage. It's about thirty seconds total - just long enough to give Peach a line about how she wants to protect this beautiful world of hers to try and give her some stakes. We get the genre-mandated nighttime campfire heart to heart, which is exactly long enough to have Mario say he misses Luigi and to have Peach give the two sentence summary of her origin story and not a second longer. Then they reach the Kongs, and their big journey is complete. (They barely interact for the rest of the movie.) So much of the movie is like this - always ready to get on to the next scene as soon as a new one starts.
I'm not criticizing the script because I expect The Super Mario Bros. Movie to be a prestige drama - although there are certainly halfhearted attempts at a dramatic arc. The stuff with Mario's family was a fun enough idea, but again, ruthless efficiency. We get one quick scene with them at the start to give Mario some pathos, because I guess Save the Cat said he's gotta have some pathos. And then Mario gets his dad's approval amidst the action of the final battle in Brooklyn to resolve his arc, just so the movie can end as quickly as possible once Bowser is defeated. (Despite now having the approval of their family and their community back in Brooklyn, Mario and Luigi move to the Mushroom Kingdom off-screen without a single word dedicated to this decision, because that's where they live in the games.)
Look. I am not comparing it to The Godfather. Don't give me that shit. I am not asking for an extra half hour to explore Mario and Luigi's childhood trauma. I am not asking for the complex inner workings of the Mushroom Kingdom monarchy. I know this is gonna be a basic Hero's Journey adventure for kids. It just feels like it's turning down so many opportunities to have a little fun with the characters, to let them interact and play off of each other, to let there be some adventure on this adventure. This is the first time we've gotten to see these characters interact with fully voiced dialogue in a very, very long time! "Yeah, it's not High Art, but it's FUN!" Stories are fun! Character interactions are fun! The script could be having so much more fun!! It is adamantly against making the Story parts of this story-driven movie any more Fun than they functionally need to be!!!
Mario, Peach, and Toad's journey to find the Kongs is shorter than the training montage that precedes it. After the opening, Bowser mostly just sits in his castle and waits for the third act to start. Luigi's there, too, but he only gets one scene with Bowser and then the movie mostly forgets he exists until the climax. He doesn't even get to try and sneak out of Bowser's castle and get up to hijinx. He's just there to be a motivation for Mario, so he sits in a cage for half the movie. It's the bare outline of a script with action scenes added in.
Aside from the fact that it's Jack Black singing as Bowser, I feel like this overly-efficient script might be part of the reason why the "Peaches" scene stands out so much. It's a moment that didn't strictly need to be there to keep the plot moving or to provide an action setpiece. It's not even a reference to another Mario thing. It's just a fun and memorable little character moment that's there for its own sake. That's what the movie needed more of. To stop and smell the roses more often. To play in the space.
To be clear, this isn't a unique problem with this movie. Critics have been noting for years that second acts are disappearing from big Hollywood movies in favor of the Act I plot setup and the Act III action, even though Act II is supposed to be where you get to explore your actual premise. And lots of animated movies give me this exact same vibe of being too "screenwriterly," or feeling like they had an executive breathing down their necks and demanding changes based on focus testing. But these common issues are why I come away mostly feeling like the movie is on the better end of "average," rather than totally blowing my mind. You have seen this movie many times before, just not with Mario in it.
And, of course, there's the music. The score by Brian Tyler based on various classic Mario and Donkey Kong tunes (frustratingly all attributed to Koji Kondo) is absolutely beautiful, but it's unfortunately frequently overshadowed by the licensed music. Everyone already complained about things like the use of Take On Me in place of a lovingly arranged DKC medley, but it feels illustrative of the tug of war the movie is caught in the middle of, between wanting to be a lavishly faithful Mario movie and wanting to be a generic tentpole animated adventure movie. Every single licensed song used is the most obvious, overused song they could have picked for the scene. It reeks of cynical executive meddling and it took me out of the movie every time.
But there really was a lot of care and love put into this movie - more than probably any other video game movie ever made, not that that's a high bar. I don't want to underplay that too much amidst all my complaints spurred by the absolutely insane response to the reviews.
Aside from the countless background references that people will be picking apart for years, touches like the Captain Toad tune playing in the background of Toad's introduction or the Mario Kart 8 menu music playing in the kart garage really help bring it to another level of authenticity. I also enjoyed seeing some more obscure Mario enemies that felt like they were picked more for being fun to animate than for being nostalgic and marketable. No matter how many times I sarcastically pointed to the screen and deadpanned "reference. reference." I am not immune to noticing these things and smiling. I am not immune to the DK Rap. These alone don't make the movie good, but it's nice to have a video game movie that feels like it was made by people who like video games.
Most importantly, the animation is great throughout. It's leaps and bounds ahead of other Illumination work, and it's the best the Mario cast has ever looked. They even made Donkey Kong handsome, somehow. They're all so squishy and expressive, and they move so fluidly - especially in the action scenes. I particularly liked the more kinetic ones like the aerial Banzai Bill chase and the Mario Kart sequence. Truly, the Mad Max-inspired car battle on Rainbow Road where Mario literally does the speedrun shortcut is this movie firing on all cylinders.
Other, more hand-to-hand fights nail the Popeye-esque vibe Mario should be going for. He's an underdog who gets the shit kicked out of him by bigger, stronger opponents until he gets his signature powerup and turns the tables on them. My favorite animation of all probably came from the use of Cat Mario to turn the tide in the DK fight. They had so much fun making Mario move like a cat. Again, it feels like a choice made because it'd be fun to animate rather than just a nostalgia move.
It's that animation and that attention to detail that carry the film, really. They elevate it from mediocrity into being a fun watch for a fan like me, albeit one I couldn't help but pick apart with Anthony as we watched it at home. I'm glad I saw it, but there's a lot of room to improve with the inevitable sequel. I hope they do. I can't deny that I had fun with the movie, but I hope next time that fun is partially because of the script instead of in spite of it.
Stray thoughts:
Overall, I would say I enjoyed the movie a lot more than Sonic 1, but probably not as much as Sonic 2. Not that these movies need to be pitted against each other.
I hated the Luma. I hated how hilarious they clearly thought the Luma was. They have the fucking Luma break the fourth wall to end the movie and start the credits. This is going to be a deep cut for fans of bad animated films, but the whole time I was just thinking of the little fish from Romeo & Juliet: Sealed With A Kiss who's just the director's kid saying random nonsense. You know I'm right
I rolled my eyes at the "our princess is in another castle" joke and several other jokes that would have been dated in a gamer webcomic 20 years ago but I guess they had to be there
How much of Brooklyn did Bowser's giant floating castle take out? We know 9/11 happened in this universe because the Freedom Tower is there, hasn't New York been through enough
I can't believe there's a Diskun easter egg
The dog is the most Illumination character design in the movie. It felt like it wandered on set from The Secret Life of Pets
Mario being a gamer and playing Kid Icarus of all things just made me remember this tweet:
Yes Anthony did get mad at me for being thirsty for Bowser
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LOONA as GIRLFRIENDS (sfw)
★ - genre: gf headcanons, wlw, fluff
★ - warnings: none
🐇HEEJIN
- plays guitar for you and sings to you
- you help her with sudoku puzzles
- you’re always cleaning up after her lol
- you’re planning a trip to travel abroad
- you’re always eating out since she can’t cook or she makes you cook for her
- you plant little kisses to her mole near her left eye
- her satoori comes out when she talks to you sometimes
- tried to convince you to become vegan with her
- you kiss her nose a lot
- you are obsessed with her arms- and she flexes for you and laughs when your mouth goes wide open
- gives you the other airpod while listening to music
- you feed her online shopping addiction bc she buys so much stuff for you
- she introduces you to her puppies
- if you have dogs, she loves them sm and constantly asks you to send pics
- she asks you to pose so she can draw you and you have her drawings hung up in your room
- she gets embarrassed when you watch her stages in front of her and compliment her
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🐈HYUNJIN
- you met in school and thought she was so pretty and vice versa
- play-wrestles you
- makes you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt from smiling
- loves to play sports with you, even if you aren’t good at them
- plays piano for you
- always holding your hand everywhere you go
- coffee shop dates <3
- you can outdrink her very easily and she gets super affectionate while drunk
- wants to get a cat or dog with you
- wants you to baby her
- when you saw her bare face you kissed her cheek and told her she was gorgeous
- she doesn’t rely on you when she’s stressed and prefers to not put her issues on you but still comes to you for advice
- you watch youtube and listen to music on her bed while cuddling
- she buys you both coffee almost every morning
- she loves joking with you and you share inside jokes and a secret language
- one time while walking together you hurt your leg and she carried you on her back the rest of the way
- she’s always hyping you up
- you have mukbangs on vlive
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🕊️HASEUL
- babies you
- plays piano and guitar for you
- movie nights where you cuddle on the couch and fall asleep in eachother’s arms
- cooks for you
- such a mom
- sends you good morning and goodnight texts and always checks up on you
- always buys you lavish gifts aka spoils tf out of you
- asked you to call her your girlfriend first
- she’s quite affectionate
- remembers the smallest things - you could mention something months ago and she’d remember and buy it for you
- drives you around
- pottery and figure skating dates
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🦌VIVI
- she was so quiet when you met but once you got the know her she’s such a bright person
- an absolute sweetheart, the most gentle gf
- she makes you watch scary movies with her and you hide your face in her neck at the scary parts
- she can’t sleep unless she’s cuddling you
- takes you to hong kong to meet her family
- you’re always taking pictures of her and she gets embarrassed
- amazing listener, gives the best advice
- rock climbing and hiking dates !!
- she prefers to stay inside though and spend time with you
- cheers you up when you come to vent
- she’s extremely considerate of you and your feelings and often makes you meals or take cares of you when you’re sick
- cooks you noodles and vegetables
- gives great hugs
- she wants to go see the cherry blossoms with you
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🧸YEOJIN
- she probably approached you first initially to become friends
- she’s always trying to come up with cute nicknames for you
- loud asf especially when she feels like someone is hitting on you or threatening you; gets super defensive
- always hitting you playfully when she laughs
- teases you constantly but it’s always lighthearted
- loves to do your nails
- if you’re taller than her (she’s incredibly short), she often complains about her height and you tease her playfully about her shortness
- she also is always the small spoon
- makes you take her instagram photos
- wants to get matching tattoos
- you’re a pair of troublemakers
- if you’re younger than her she always brags about being older, and if you’re older, she always wants to be treated like a baby
- makes you watch animated shows with her
- naps together <3
- her hand is very small and fits cutely in yours when you hold hands
- kisses you goodbye
- you have to drive her everywhere bc she refuses to get a license
- speaks in her daegu accent to you, you tell her it’s hot
- you’re always reminding her of dates you planned bc she forgets easily
- she loves perfume and you always gift it to her. you carry a rolling perfume in your bag and roll it on her wrist so she can smell it and to calm her when she’s stressed.
- convinces you to get new piercings and you come with her to get hers
- you play pokémon together
- she’s more affectionate than you are
- writes about you in her diary
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🦉KIM LIP
- a romantic at heart
- cleans up your room without you asking
- laughs at everything you say, even the most stupid jokes
- had a habit of sweeping your hair back
- sushi dates + movie nights
- she loves watching romance movies with you
- “that’s like us”
- you watch dramas together and gossip about the main characters
- she loves longboarding with you
- if you ever fight, she’s the first to resolve it
- passenger princess
- tried to teach you how to play the violin while you tried to explain a sport to her - she didn’t get it
- she gets cold easily and you warm her hands and beat hug her to warm her up - or give her your jacket
- always makes sure you’ve eaten
- she’s bad with technology and needs your help constantly when her phone isn’t working
- shopping together <3
- she gets sleep paralysis and you comfort her when she gets scared
- she loves massaging your shoulders and your back after a long day
- you bought her a guitar and she freaked out
- the two of you love baking things together even if they don’t turn out well, she even made you a birthday cake as a surprise
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🐟JINSOUL
- she has a strong vibe and it took you a while to approach her but you instantly became close
- you sit on her lap while she plays video games or hug her from behind
- very clingy
- restaurant dates late at night where you get fast food or snacks
- she’s very honest with you and if she has any concerns she always voices them to you
- you built gundam models and lego sets together
- she talks a lot and you could listen to her ramble for hours
- always coming up with creative dates that involve her new hobbies
- she writes songs about you
- overdramatic af when you don’t give her attention
- you’re in her vlogs and she edits hearts around you
- she knits you stuffed animals and blankets
- recommends you webtoons to read
- makes you take the mbti quiz so she can analyze your personality
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🦇CHOERRY
- couple items !! (ex. matching hoodies, toothbrushes, pajamas, shoes, etc.)
- tteokbokki dates
- helps you manage your stress
- her sisters love you
- if you argue she’s always the one to settle things down and solve conflicts, she apologizes even if she hasn’t done something wrong
- plays video games with you and you always beat her and she pouts
- her mother brings you sweet potatoes from her farm
- compliments you constantly and says she’s jealous of your pretty appearance
- you call her sexy and she gets shy but she appreciates it sm lol
- makes you take the harry potter sorting house quiz and you have a movie marathon
- loves it when you wear sweet perfume
- she’s always playing with your hair and asks to braid it a lot
- you watch animes together
- definitely friends to lovers, your friendship is so strong
- loves it when you call her yerim/yerimmie
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🦢YVES
- she’s super charismatic and the two of you became fast friends
- i’m imagining a very sweet and shy confession from her
- aesthetic dates and photoshoots constantly
- you go thrifting together at vintage stores
- if you have pets, especially cats - she adores them and is always asking about them
- tries to teach you how to dance lol
- makes you playlists
- introduces you to her family and they love you
- she’s very poetic and expresses her love very fondly, often sending you long text messages explaining her feelings
- many inside jokes between you two
- loves it when you call her sooyoungie
- wants to go to the gym with you
- she gets embarrassed when you compliment her
- “stopp it y/n! shhh”
- she’s extremely passionate about your relationship and head over heels for you
- a total softy- you make her blush just by looking at her
- she cries easily talking about her feelings or when she’s stressed but feels very comfortable around you and the two of you comfort eachother when you’re down
- imitates you perfectly - it’s so annoying
- an excellent listener when you need to rant
- prefers to care for you rather than you care for her
- if you fight, she usually gets emotional but is very logical and listens to you well
- posts pictures of you both and captions it with something funny and cute
- gifts you clothes and lets you borrow hers
- cooks tteokbokki for you
- wears your hoodie so much she might as well own it
- takes pictures of you on dates with her film camera
- when she kisses your face she leaves a lipstick mark on your cheek
- you buy her vinyls and roses bc she loves roses
- she reads poetry to you in bed
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🐧CHUU
- she’s so supportive of everything you do, your biggest cheerleader
- cheek and nose kisses !!
- eternally grateful for you and always reminding you
- you have a lot of cheesy and heartfelt moments where she tells you how much she loves you and appreciates you
- you have a very innocent and adorable relationship that is mutually healthy and caring
- you have small arguments/debates that always end well and you laugh about them at the end of the day even though chuu always wins
- she lets you guest star on chuu can do it for an episode and introduces you to orbits
- she’s extremely affectionate and is always holding your hand and clings to your side
- buys you so many gifts she often forgets to buy stuff for herself
- sleepovers where you attempt to stay up until 2 am but chuu always passes out first
- she’s very hard on herself but you’re consistently reassuring her
- she has a large appetite and you let her eat your leftovers or often order big portions to share and she ends up eating most of it lol
- she teaches you taekwondo moves and threatens to bring them out if anyone dares try to hurt you
- karaoke dates !!
- does aeygo for you when she wants something
- you went on a rollercoaster one time and she was clinging onto you, holding your hands with her eyes shut screaming the whole time poor bby
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🦋GOWON
- she’s very introverted so it was tough to get to know her bc she’s so shy
- constantly tags you in funny shit and sends you posts saying “this reminded me of you”
- she’s very positive and helps you see the bright side of situations
- you have an animal crossing island together
- you go shopping together all the time and she always wants to do your makeup
- she annoys you and teases you constantly but makes up for it with cute affection
- amusement park dates <3
- she’s such a bad cook she tried to make something for you to eat one time and it burnt so you just got take-out
- you bought her oh my girl concert tickets and she was so grateful
- she makes you winter playlists
- you spoil her with clothes
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
🐺OLIVIA HYE
- holds your hand when she’s upset
- acts like she dislikes everyone but you type of thing
- you and her give marceline and bubblegum vibes
- hugs you from behind - leans on your shoulder and pouts
- very handy and fixes anything you need fixed
- very competitive and will end you in a game
- hates receiving hugs and kisses but will hug and kiss you all the time
- sends you very eloquent messages about her love for you
- she leaves notes of encouragement on to ur bag and plans you surprise birthday parties
- teases you but it’s never hurtful
- you taught her how to wink
- she kills bugs in your house for you
- the two of you have sleepovers and wear facemasks
┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙@yvesgo 2023
#loona#loonatheworld#loona fluff#kpop gg#kpop imagines#kpop smut#kpop aesthetic#loona headcanons#heejin#hyunjin#haseul#vivi#yeojin#kim lip#jinsoul#choerry#yves#chuu#gowon#olivia hye#loona chuu
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hi! can you recommend some books by indian writers? both fiction and nonfiction. thank you
Hi! I read your other message and here you go (I've also linked other asks where there are more relevant books mentioned)
Fiction
[x] | [xx]
Serious Men by Manu Joseph — about a low-caste man in a chawl in Mumbai and all that he does for his son to escape the limits of his position; satire on caste and class, scientific education in the country
Raag Darbari by Shrilal Shukla (trans. Gillian Wright) — really, really good satire on an village in the north a few decades after Independence; looks at how systems fail on ground, how clearly incapable most of them are at dealing with problems; also about the early years of the nexus forming between criminals, politicians, and businessmen and corruption taking root
High Wind by Tilottoma Misra (trans. Udayon Misra) — about a Sanskrit scholar who in the 19th century moves to colonial Shillong; explores the changes happening in Assamese culture and society during the time, how different communities and 'tribes' take shape and negotiate the colonial order
A Burning by Megha Majumdar — how the lives of three people intersect at the crossroads of law, justice, class aspirations and in an increasingly volatile political atmosphere
Baluta by Daya Pawar (trans. Jerry Pinto) — a memoir by Pawar about being a Dalit and how the identity changes as it moves from the village to the city
Name Place Animal Thing by Daribha Lyndem — it's like a bunch of character portraits of people who are all connected to each other and together they paint a picture of one girl who's growing up in a turbulent community in Shillong
The Lives of Others by Neel Mukherjee — an old and joint family in Kolkata in the 1960s; looks at how it adapts or fails to; it's really good at how it shows a very distinct social class in decay in specifically post-Independence Kolkata but also at the same time could be about similar stories of the zamindar/landholding class unravelling elsewhere
A similar but older take on the joint family decaying in Maharashtra is Old Stone Mansion by Mahesh Elkunchwar. I read the original and I do vaguely remember there being a translation, but I'm not sure so do check that out. I think it'll be in this.
Battlefield by Vishram Bedekar (trans. Jerry Pinto) — about a Hindu man and a Jewish refugee who meet on a ship going from Europe to Hong Kong just before World War II; looks at what it means to be in exile, what it means to aspire to nationhood
I would also recommend the Aleph Book Company series on Greatest Stories Ever Told. I've only read a few but they seem quite well curated.
Non-fiction
about northeast India | the revolutionary movement | military history | [x] | colonisation and aftereffects |
A People’s Constitution by Rohit De — how people experience the constitution; how they participate in the legal and political process; really great because it takes the constitution beyond its documentary role
India Trilogy by V. S. Naipaul — An Area of Darkness, India: A Wounded Civilization, and India: A Million Mutinies Now; one of the best commentaries on 20th century but post-Independence India; also very different from other commentaries because Naipaul worked to see the country as something other than a former colony; also great because you get to see him traveling and changing his mind and arguing with himself over the three books
Sixteen Stormy Days by Tripurdaman Singh — about the first amendment of the Indian Constitution which has been a controversial one given that very soon after the Constitution being ratified, it put curbs on freedom of expression and property rights and gave birth to the Ninth Schedule
India: A Sacred Geography by Diana L. Eck — how precolonial and ancient Indians imagined the geography through religion and vice versa; how Hinduism and generally Indic religions are closely tied with the land
India Unbound by Gurcharan Das — it's a personal economic history of sorts where he looks at the post-Independence economic growth (or lack thereof) through the routes his life has taken; really good because he brings to a table the experience of living in a 'mixed' economy and can really get across why 1991 was such a big deal
Castes of Mind by Nicholas Dirks — essays on how caste and race interacted to reorder the social structure in colonial India; how law, policy, politics, and profit all worked together when it came to matters of social categories and identity
The Eastern Gate by Sudeep Chakravarti — sort of journalistic history on how 'mainland' India has seen the Northeast, how insurgency took root; how conflicts have been navigated, solved, worsened
Modern South India by Rajmohan Gandhi — South India from the 17th century to the 20th; a little information heavy at times but useful
Our Moon Has Blood Clots by Rahul Pandita — memoir on the Kashmiri Pandit genocide; also see his Hello Bastar if you're interested in the Naxalites
Kanshiram by Badri Narayan — a biography of Kanshiram and through him looks at Dalit politics and the whole world of OBC and Dalit consolidation
The Emergency by Coomi Kapoor — like India Unbound, a personal account of sorts of living through the Emergency; and she was a journalist then so it's really in-depth
Army and the Nation by Stephen Wilkinson — the relationship between the Indian Army and the Republic; how India has managed to keep the military establishment away from politics unlike Pakistan, which to all intents and purposes, inherited the similar institutional setup as India
Happy reading!
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Okay, so the other night I fell down a rabbit hole of sorts. I found some post cards that Vincent had written to his daughter and his (ex) wife Mary. I just think they're so sweet. So I'm sharing them here. These do NOT belong to me. So I do NOT take credit. I just think they're awesome. I'll also do my best to translate in case anyone has any problem reading his writing.
This is a postcard he send to his daughter, Victoria in 1965. Look at the hearts he drew at the top!!!! Whyyyy is this so damn precious?! Moving on... It reads:
Dearest Toria - I love my Easter present - your pictures are beautiful but they make me homesick to see you. It won't be long now and we will have lots of fun when we are together again - I'll make you popovers and meat sticks in the fire and will plant a tree on your birthday and have a big cake! My movie is finally going pretty well but I wish I was doing it at home. Thanks Myrna for the letter. All my love, Daddy
This post card was sent to his ex-wife Mary in the mid 70s. By this time, he was married to Coral Browne, but remained close friends with Mary. According to their daughter, there was an inside joke to this postcard (which I never understood - but maybe it's not for me to understand :) ) it reads:
Of course I never saw it - who has? The trip to Hong Kong was endless and I've been working my tail off doing publicity, etc. But still find Hong Kong fascinating even tho it's twice as big and as crowded as before - I overlook the bay to the peninsula now nestled unhappily in a forest of skyscrapers but I hear still good. All my love, Vincent *SIGH*
This post card was sent to his daughter, Victoria and his ex wife Mary Price in February of 1975. Again, he was married to Coral Browne but remained close friends with his ex wife Mary. His daughter once said, "I was lucky that my parents remained friends after the divorce. They wanted what's best for each other and for me, which wasn't always easy because of my stepmother." Which, I could understand her stepmother's point of view, there. But still, it's insanely sweet that they remained good friends.
It reads: Dearest Tor. This is one of the fun things in the great modern museum here in Buffalo. The tour goes well but the weathers terrible. I was 8 hours late getting here but didn't miss the lecture. Love to you both, Dad.
This letter was sent to his daughter, Victoria in 1976. It reads: Dearest Torsie. On my way to Ohio to rehearse Oliver - had a nice talk with your mama who says you're having a ball - I'd love to hear from you and so am sending a couple of cards to write on- do send them in the next week or so as I'll be here until the 20th - but so will you! All love to you! Dad.
This post card was sent to his ex wife, Mary and his daughter Victoria in 1979. It reads:
Dearest M + V (Mary and Victoria) Well it slipped into town and seems to be doing very well though it's very strange management but quite legitimate - a lovely theater and set and nice people but NY audiences are not as vociferous as Denver, etc. still it's nice to be here and I love living in Gramercy park. I walk to work but taxi home. I've decided to do only a few head one nighters as it's too difficult to check everything and play it too. Still love doing it however - All Love Dad
#vincent price#postcard#postcards#celebrity#old hollywood#vintage postcard#vintage#i admire him so much and his relationship with his ex wife and daughter#its refreshing and makes me admire him even more#is that possible?#hmmpf#oh well#hes a doll really#bicon#bisexual#horror#old horror movies#movie#actor#handsome#random#blog#these do NOT belong to me#credit belongs to the owner of these
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Hey I was wondering if you have any knowledge regarding Money king temple in Hong Kong? And if there's anything to be aware of like etiquette and the such. Thanks very much!
Hi. The temple you are referring to is in Sau Mau Ping, Kwun Tong District, Kowloon, Hong Kong. My suggestion is to dress moderately and to ask permission to take pictures. And leaving a donation is always a must.
My single visit there in 2018 was a big occasion because my friend Saie (Hanumovies), a dark-skinned British man of Sri Lakan Tamil descent, drew a lot of attention for praying to the Monkey King. Many people wanted to take pictures of and with him.
Saie believes Hanuman and the Great Sage are manifestations of a universal Monkey God. Check out this episode of his documentary:
youtube
This picture of us was taken just down the hill from the temple at a local basketball court. It was during the Monkey King's birthday celebration.
P.s. My gut is an illusion ... it's not there if you don't look at it. I've lost lots of weight since then.
#sun wukong#monkey king#journey to the west#buddhism#taoism#Chinese religion#Hong Kong#Monkey god#Hanuman#birthday#lego monkie kid#jttw#LMK
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Staff at a Norfolk farm shop and restaurant were stunned when a Hollywood star stopped by this week.
The team at Hirst's Farm Shop & Cafe, in Ormesby St Margaret, took to social media to share a snap of Marvel actor Tom Hiddleston as he posed for a photo.
Pictured with all smiles, the caption read: "Can you tell we have some Tom Hiddleston fans who work here?"
Speaking of the chance encounter, a staff member at Hirst's said: "It was great to meet him!
"He was very willing to have a selfie with our team and it gave them a huge morale boost to start their day seeing a celebrity enjoying their offering on a busy Saturday morning."
The Loki star was also spotted elsewhere in the Great Yarmouth area, dining at The Kings Arms in Fleggburgh last night which was shared on the business's Facebook page.
Afterwards, he reportedly said it was the "best meal" in Norfolk.
The appearance follows shortly after Deadpool star Ryan Reynolds was spotted filming the franchise's latest instalment at Holkham, a location not unused to hosting Hollywood productions.
Norwich regular Hugh Jackman was also in Norfolk recently, where he enjoyed a meal at the Waffle House in St Giles Street, similarly stopping to take a selfie with the team.
The actor's mother lives in the county and he is a diehard supporter of Norwich City, along with Stephen Fry and Delia Smith.
London-born Hiddleston, 42, won two Primetime Emmy Awards as star of TV series The Night Manager and has appeared in films outside of the Marvel universe including Kong: Skull Island and War Horse.
He has regularly been tipped as having the potential to be the next James Bond and his mother reportedly lives in Suffolk.
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Titan History: Kong
Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.
Apologies for the lack of communication in recent weeks, Monarch has been hard at work collecting data and collaborating with global governments through the most recent Titan crisis, including the disposal of deceased Titan remains and the best course of action to take with Godzilla in his new resting place.
That said, today's communication will be going over a Titan who has been surging in popularity across the globe over the past few years; the undisputed king of the Hollow Earth, Kong.
(Pictured above: Kong approaching an Apex Cybernetics research facility on Skull Island, circa. 2017)
Monarch Database File: Kong
Monarch Designation: Titanus Kong
Height: 337 feet
Weight: Unknown
Nature: Unknown
Behavioural Classification: Protector
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Until recently, Kong was believed to be the last of his kind. Born during a climactic final battle between his parents and a horde of Skullcrawlers (ravenous amphibian predators on Skull Island), Kong grew up in an isolated world filled with danger at every angle. Growing up to become the guardian deity of Skull Island, Kong was held in great reverence by the native Iwi tribe that lived on the island. His species, designated Apus giganticus, were also known protectors of the Iwi, fighting off the Skullcrawlers and other threats until their last breath.
During his centuries on the island, Kong fought a variety of creatures, from the Mire Squad and Sirenjaws to other Titans such as the mysterious Kraken or night-bringer Camazotz. However, in 2021, a storm generated by Monster Zero fused with the perpetual storm surrounding Skull Island and plunged it into chaos. Three years later, in 2024, Kong was removed from the island as the key to a daring plan to uncover a Hollow Earth energy source to stop Godzilla. The two alpha Titans clashed twice before setting aside their differences to take down Apex Cybernetics' rogue superweapon, Mechagodzilla.
Currently, Kong now resides in the Hollow Earth alongside a newly-freed tribe of his speices, an orange ape-like Titan which he seems to have adopted as a son, and the ancient ice Titan Shimo.
(Pictured above: Monarch officials reviewing recovered footage of Kong from the doomed 1973 expedition to Skull Island, circa. 2019)
While Kong's exact origins are unknown, research conducted within the Iwi settlement appears to place his birth somewhere in the 17th Century, making him perhaps the youngest Titan on record. However, his entangled history with Monarch began much later, in 1973.
In a time where Monarch was on its last legs and facing the possibility of being shut down, founding figure William Randa and geological advisor Houston Brooks lobbied to piggyback on a Landsat expedition to Skull Island. With a military escort courtesy of the Sky Devils squadron, the team dropped seismic charges on the island to map the bedrock beneath the surface. Unknown to them at the time, their charges awakened the Skullcrawlers living in thermal vents beneath the island and incurred Kong's wrath.
Kong swiftly destroyed the Sky Devils' helicopters, leaving the survivors split into two groups. One, including Brooks, encountered the Iwi and stranded WW2 pilot Hank Marlow, where they learned about Kong and his history with the Skullcrawlers. A second, including Randa, embarked on a mission of revenge driven by Colonel Preston Packard.
(Pictured above: Kong battling the remnants of the Sky Devil squadron after being lured into a napalm trap, circa. 1973)
After being lured into a napalm trap by Packard, Kong was initially helpless to battle the recently awakened Skull Devil, the last of the adult Skullcrawlers that had a hand in wiping out his family centuries prior. Recovering quickly, the two beasts engaged in a brutal encounter. Following some assistance from the expedition survivors, Kong triumphed by tearing out the Skull Devil's innards, avenging his parents in the process.
His next major sighting occured in 1993, but without a Monarch presence on Skull Island at the time, this is pending investigation. According to witnesses, Kong did battle with a large underwater Titan (designated 'Kraken'), after being coaxed to the island's coast by Annie, a young girl stranded on the island for years with a strange dog-like beast as a companion. After exchanging many blows, Kong ultimately killed the Titan by tearing its body in half.
In 1995, Aaron Brooks (Houston's son) led an unauthorized expedition to Skull Island, as he felt unsatisfied with leaving protection against the Skullcrawlers to Kong alone. During their stay, mythographer Walter Riccio experienced vivid visions of Kong's origins, under the influence of an Iwi medicinal drink. When Riccio destroyed the wall to the Iwi village, Kong stepped in to vanquish the Mother Longlegs swarm that seized their chance and killed Riccio before communing with Aaron and the Iwi.
(Pictured above: Artistic rendition of Kong tearing the "Kraken" Titan in two, based off eyewitness testimony, circa. 1993)
In the following decades, Kong was largely left to his own devices as the island's guardian. Though Monarch teams briefly assisted him in 2015 with a crisis involving the unknown organisation Janos Biotech and the island's Snarehunter population, and Kong himself kept a horde of Skullcrawlers that attempted to leave the island in response to Monster Zero's 'alpha call' in 2019, no major events really transpired between 1995 and 2021.
In 2021, as mentioned previously, Skull Island was plunged into chaos when one of Monster Zero's residual storms merged with the storm system surrounding Skull Island. When darkness fell, the bat Titan Camazotz emerged and battled Kong for dominion over the island. Thanks to a daring pilot triggering a sonic boom to disorient Camazotz, Kong was able to prevail, though he was ultimately unable to save his home.
Three years later, and the artificial habitat Monarch built for Kong was unable to hold him much longer. He was reluctantly taken to the sea and transported to Antarctica's Outpost 32 (now rebuilt as a Hollow Earth station), though not without attracting Godzilla, who destroyed the naval fleet transporting him and almost drowned the ape. Following the acquisition of an axe left in the Hollow Earth by his ancestors, Kong and Godzilla clashed again in Hong Kong. While Godzilla prevailed through sheer power, Kong refused to submit to his rule.
(Pictured above: Kong leaping onto Godzilla's back from a building after staging an ambush, circa. 2024)
After being revived by an exploding H.E.A.V, Kong jumped in to stop Mechagodzilla from executing his organic counterpart. Setting aside their differences, the two Titans teamed up to take down the mecha. A blast from Godzilla's atomic breath charged up Kong's axe, and he was able to deal the finishing blow by hacking Mechagodzilla to pieces and holding its severed head in triumph. The two Titans regarded each other one more time before parting ways.
Which brings us to the present. While much of what transpired is still being compiled to our databanks, it is known that Kong returned to the surface on three different occassions. The first was to have an infected tooth removed at a Monarch facility, the second was in Egypt to coerce Godzilla into assisting him, and the third was a two-on-two battle in Brazil between Kong and Godzilla, and Shimo and the "Skar King", evil ruler of the Kong tribe in Hollow Earth.
-----
And there you go! An up-to-date account of Kong's history in the modern world, intertwined with Monarch from the 1970's. Currently, Kong is enjoying life down in the Hollow Earth, and as the world should do, this is where we leave Kong's story be, until the world needs him again.
Until next time,
Monarch: After Dark
#monarch#monarch after dark#monsterverse#king kong#godzilla#kong skull island#skull island#godzilla vs kong#godzilla x kong the new empire#skullcrawlers#kong
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King of the Monsters
Godzilla Minus One is a goddamn masterpiece. It is the hype. If you have the opportunity to see it, definitely make that happen in the biggest screen possible. I saw it in XD and it was just a regular ass experience f*cking amazing. Bro, Godzilla Minus One has no right to be as good as it is. No hyperbole, as a film, it's arguably the best one I've seen all year. Like, it gives Oppenheimer a run for its money in terms of quality film making. The performances are all strong as f*ck, the direction is some of the best I've seen in years, the writing is pitch perfect, and the cinematography was breathtaking. You fully understand how massive Goji is when it does what it do. The mind-boggling scale really comes across more so in the film. than any of the Monsterverse joints, But that sound design is what does it for me. Whoever mixed this film knew exactly what the f*ck they were doing because that Main Theme hit hard as f*ck! You hear that familiar, yet, wholly original take, three times in this film and, every time, it's a gut punch.
Godzilla films are at their best when you have an emotional anchor. That's why the Monsterverse films have all sucked past the Bryan Cranston bits of the 2014 flick. No one cares about Millie Bobby Brown or that weird jungle kid who's friends with Kong. They're props for the monster fights, which is a stark contrast between how we, in the US, see Goji and how the Japanese see it. For them, and this film really drives that home, Godzilla is a force of nature. He is the embodiment of a cultural trauma that has scarred their people for damn near a century. We, as Americans, cannot even begin to broach something as unimaginable as falling victim to an atomic bomb, so we can't make films which resonate like that. To us, Godzilla is just a cool ass monster, like Frankenstein or King Kong, and we approach the character like that. We, culturally, do not understand how to make a "good" Godzilla film but the Japanese sure the f*ck do. They've done that a few times back in 1954, again with Shin, and now with Minus. You care about these characters. You want them to live. I can't say that about any US Godzilla media, outside of Bryan Cranston's character who f*cking dies in 2014.
To summarize, the hype is real. Godzilla Minus One is a goddamn masterpieces. See that sh*t on the biggest screen possible, with the best sound system available. Legitimately the best theater experience I've had all year. It' a solid f*cking movie, outside of Goji, himself, and is a strong character piece in it's own right. I have, as a Godzilla fan, we have been eating this Holiday season. Minus One is everything you have hear, the Monarch show has been brilliant, and, we got the trailer for another dumb, neon drenched, Monsterverse Goji flick. Or rather, Kong feat. Goji flick. I really, really, enjoyed Minus One. It's easily top three Godzilla content for me. I'd put it right after the 1954 original and a solid 2B with Shin being 2A. I would not be surprised in Minus One ended up taking home the Best Picture Award at the Japanese Academy Film Prize, just like Shin before it. Minus One really is just as great a film.
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hello! recently I've found someone who's selling brazilian G1 ponies. they already sold a few brazilian baby ponies (including a nbbe lofty) that were in very great condition. what caught my attention was the brazilian Waterfall Playset that they're selling—sprinkles' body is blue! just like the prototype. they're selling the box + playset + blue sprinkles. I've asked them if the pony has been customized to look like the prototype and they told me that it has not. according to them, blue sprinkles has been owned by their family for 40 years now and has always been blue. I'm still hesitant to believe this because I'm unsure if it's even possible for a (brazilian) prototype sprinkles to exist. is there a way to know? if I buy this pony, is there a way to check if its body has been painted? this person is also selling a brazilian blossom that has a far deeper purple body than other blossoms I've seen before (especially brazilian ones because most tend to not have their original blueish purple color). and they're all in great condition (both body and hair) for brazilian ponies.
The pony used for the US photoshoots would definitely not have been Brazilian, so although the pony might be "a" prototype, it wouldn't be "the" ur-prototype, if that makes sense. (The one pictured on the box / in brochures.) I'm not familiar with the Brazilian packaging, but you could look up the US packaging and then compare if they used the same picture versus if Estrela (the Brazilian company) took their own pics.
The only sure way to check if a pony is dyed, that I know of, is to cut into the plastic. With G1s, you can also sometimes tell because they can appear patchy; they tend to take dye less evenly than G3 ponies or HQG1C custom ponies. That said, Brazilian ponies feel smoother than US sold (China / Hong Kong) ponies so I'm not sure how they take dye.
I would be cautious because I vaguely remember reading a thread on one of the MLP message boards where people were suspicious about someone with lots of supposed prototypes. Whether those suspicions are founded or not, I have no idea. But the general observation was that all the 'prototypes' were darker / bolder shades than the "usual" Brazilian pony would be.
Like, if there was never a yellow Bow-Tie, and someone produces a yellow Bow Tie, you know the pony is unique because you can't dye a blue pony to yellow. But you can dye a blue pony purple, or darker blue, or maybe even a really dark red.
Hope that makes sense.
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Pls you reblogged the "Eddie Munson is the type to say 'oooo you wanna kiss me so bad' in the middle of an argument" and now I just want to see how that plays out with Lucy (not a serious argument just playful)
A/N: So, this turned into a bit of a thing. I'm picturing this after they officially get together and Eddie's name is cleared. The post in question.
Warning: None. This is pure unadulterated fluff.
Word Count: 736
"You can't be serious."
"As a heart attack."
Eddie stared at her, mouth open in complete and utter shock.
They were sitting on the bed, Lucy resting her back against the headboard while Eddie sat on the end, the VHS tapes in his hand all but forgotten. The plan had been a last minute movie night after Lucy had called to inform Eddie that Dustin would be over at Mike’s while her mom was working. Despite the smaller screen, they agreed her room was the safest just in case either one of them decided to come home early. The current conversation, however, was derailing the plan entirely.
"How can you possibly claim to love Star Wars and tell me that Return of the Jedi is better than The Empire Strikes Back?"
"I'm not saying it's better,” she amended. “I'm just saying that it’s better than people give it credit for. Empire is great, but in terms of rewatch ability, I prefer Jedi."
"How?"
"The confrontations between Vader and Luke, Vader's final redemption, rescuing Han, Luke becoming a full Jedi–”
"Ewoks.”
"I like the Ewoks."
Eddie collapsed onto the bed, clutching his chest with one hand allowing his free arm to fall dramatically over his eyes.
"I can't even look at you any more. You're breaking my heart."
Lucy hit him with a pillow for that one.
He laughed, taking it in stride as he uncovered his eyes enough to meet hers. "Seriously though? Ewoks?"
"They're cute,” she defended. “It's a good juxtaposition to the Empire, in a nature vs. machine kind of way. Plus, you can't tell me you didn't feel something when mid battle one of them realized their friend was dead."
"Just relief I didn't have to see one more of them."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I get it. You're soooo cool. Mr. Heavy Metal likes it when the teddy bears die."
"Well not all of us can be as sensitive as you,” he teased.
"I'm not sensitive."
"You cried when we watched King Kong."
"He didn't do anything wrong!” she exclaimed. “He was just hanging out on his island, keeping the people from getting eaten by dinosaurs when some assholes decided to kidnap him and exploit him for money. Why are you grinning at me?"
Eddie shook his head. "Nothing, you're just adorable when you're worked up."
"I'm not worked up.”
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not. You’re just being a jerk.”
He raised his eyebrow, turning suddenly onto his stomach. “A jerk, huh?”
“Huge.”
His eyes narrowed before slowly crawling up the bed towards her.
Lucy did her best not to squirm, making sure to keep her expression calm and her eyes focused on his.
He stopped inches from her face, his arms caging her between him and the bed. She held firm all the while, even with his lips so tantalizingly close. At least, she thought she had been.
"Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad,” he said, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "Shut up.”
"No, no, I think it's cute,” he said, before gesturing to his face. “My eyes are up here by the way."
She moved to shove him, but he quickly retalited. In an instant his hands were at her sides, tickling her with a vengeance.
Lucy let out a squeal of laughter. She did her best to wriggle away, but Eddie wasn’t letting her escap that easily.
“Get off me!” she giggled.
“Nope, not until you admit I was right,” he insisted, pausing his attack.
“And what were you oh so right about?”
“We can start with you wanting to kiss me.”
She shook her head. "Not when you’re being an asshole.”
His eyes narrowed, it was her only warning. The tickle assault started even harder than before. She could barely breathe.
“No stop! Okay, okay! I want to kiss you!”
“Well, all you had to do was ask.”
She didn’t get a chance to say anything before his lips found hers. Her response was instantaneous as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She should have been embarrassed how easily she surrendered, but God she did love how he kissed her.
All too soon he pulled back, looking down at her with a shit eating grin. “See, not so bad being wrong.”
She had to laugh. "You’re still wrong about Jedi, though.”
"Agree to disagree."
#stranger things#stranger things oc#eddie munson#lucy henderson#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson x henderson!oc#eddie munson x henderson!reader#2022 fic
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