CUUUTE - Tumblr Posts - Page 3
Awwww
latest kitty commissions
Awwww
latest kitty commissions
![http-numbah5 - [kids next door]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/de27aafc25918375520548e31cade4cc/d19070a961309d35-d7/s500x750/a33f63e952ab352b5a6f094c465109282f6da1c3.jpg)
CATS!!!
Love this style and the colour scheme! Some patience you must have (and I wish I had) for that tie. Good job!
the actor
pairing. chenle x reader
synopsis. you would have never guessed who'd be the one to stop the tears from falling when you flunked your finals
genre. academic rivals, mainly comfort with sprinkles of fluff, no pronouns are used for reader, lmk if i missed anything!
wc. 1.3k words
notes. i love chenle. that's it. that's the post. (someone hold me back from all of those pictures he posted on ig recently for tds... im no longer sane....) im also not sure why tags aren't working for me but i have given up so here we are!! likes and feedback are highly appreciated!
m.list
being competitive was something that came to you naturally—striving to excel in everything you do, yet it was clear academics grasped the highest regard. you’ve held onto the idea that hard work always leads to success, but no matter how much effort you put in, there’s always been one person standing right there beside you—or ahead of you, rather.
zhong chenle. he was sharp, quick-witted, and never missed the chance to land a smirk when he bested you in an exam.
to you, chenle wasn’t just competition, he was the one you so desperately wanted to surpass as if that alone would prove your worth, the one who always made you question your capabilities in the dead of the night when the silence engulfing your room was almost deafening. so when your final exam results were returned and you saw a grade much lower than you anticipated, the disappointment sank in your chest like a heavy weight.
from the sullen look on your face alone, rumors were quick to spread that one of the top students of your batch received a low grade. you’d hear whispers shared around the room and could only clench your exam papers underneath your desk to conceal your frustrations.
a silent scoff escapes under your breath. the same people who sucked up to you for homework answers when they forgot to do it themselves were now the ones pointing daggers at you with their murmurs.
couldn’t they even try to be a little discreet with their gossip? have they got no ounce of shame?
and despite your thoughts of cursing them all, your lips refused to actually speak your mind. you plaster on a brave face throughout the day, dodging the thinly veiled comments from your classmates, but the pressure continues to gnaw at you and by the time you reach your usual quiet spot in the library, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. the tears you’ve been suppressing spill over, hot and unchecked, as you stare down at the test paper in your lap—now littered with wet patches and crumpled edges.
you don’t expect anyone to find you here, but then the sound of footsteps becomes too loud to deny, and you quickly wipe at your eyes, hoping to regain composure before whoever it is sees you in this state. you glance up, and for some reason it just had to be him standing in front of you, not with the smug expression you’ve come to expect, but with something softer, something that catches you completely off guard.
“are you… okay?” chenle’s voice is tentative, unsure, like he’s not used to asking the question. and you can tell, even in his hesitation, that this isn’t a question he’s asking out of obligation, but concern.
you want to say something sharp, something to push him away. after all, why should you let him see you like this—vulnerable, defeated? but the words catch in your throat. the only thing you can manage is a stiff nod, though even that feels like a lie. chenle doesn’t press further. instead, he takes a cautious step closer, then another, until he’s sitting beside you, a quiet but solid presence at your side.
the silence between you is thick, weighted by everything that’s unsaid, but for some reason, it’s not uncomfortable. you sense chenle watching you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as if he’s seeing something new in you. then, gently, so gently you almost don’t believe it’s happening, his hand lifts, and his fingers brush against your cheek, wiping away the tears that have clung to your skin. the warmth of his touch lingers, soft and careful, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he’s not delicate enough.
“it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice steady, soothing in a way that makes your chest tighten. “you don’t have to hold it in. just… let it out.”
it’s such a simple thing, but the way he says it—soft, sincere, as if he’s offering you a lifeline—breaks something inside of you. the tears fall harder, faster, no longer restrained, and for the first time, you don’t feel ashamed for crying in front of him. there’s no judgment in his gaze, no pity—just an understanding that feels so foreign coming from the person you’ve always considered your rival.
he stays silent, watching you, but not with the cold, competitive eyes you’re used to. there’s something different there now—an openness, a vulnerability that mirrors your own. when you glance up at him, his expression is soft, almost tender, and it makes your heart stutter in confusion. he’s never looked at you like this before.
“why are you here?” you finally ask, your voice raw from crying. “shouldn’t you be… laughing at me or something? isn’t that what rivals do?”
chenle lets out a soft laugh, but there’s no trace of mockery in it. it’s a warm sound, the kind that wraps around you like a blanket on a cold day. “i guess that’s what you think of me, huh?” he says, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement. “but i’m not here to make fun of you. you’re upset. and believe it or not, i don’t like seeing you like this.”
his words throw you completely off balance. you’ve spent so long painting him in one color—seeing him as nothing more than competition—that this softer, more compassionate side of him feels like uncharted territory.
you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything at all. the quiet stretches between you, but it’s not awkward. in fact, it feels strangely comforting, like a ceasefire between two soldiers who’ve spent years fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield.
chenle shifts beside you, his gaze dropping to the crumpled piece of paper still clenched in your hand. his voice drops to a more serious tone. “i heard what people were saying today. about your grade.” he pauses, as if carefully choosing his next words. “they shouldn’t judge you. i bet your score is still higher than most of theirs. and even if it wasn’t… it’s none of their damn business.” his words touch you more than expected, and you’re not sure if it's because you’re still feeling sensitive.
it’s as if he’s speaking from experience, like he knows exactly what it feels like to be in your shoes, and for a moment, the reality of your rivalry seems to fade, replaced by the stark realization that chenle is probably the one who understands you the most in this situation. he knows the pressure, the expectations, and even the crushing weight of failure.
and that realization brings a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you. you’ve spent so much time resenting him, seeing him as the enemy, that you never stopped to consider that maybe he was fighting the same battles you were. the tears welled up again, but this time they’re not for your fallen grades—they’re for the way you’ve treated him, for the assumptions you’ve made about him.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely audible through your choked sobs. “i’ve been so awful to you…”
chenle’s hand brushes against your cheek again, this time a little firmer, more reassuring. “hey,” he says softly, his thumb wiping away another tear that slipped past, “we’ve both been pretty awful to each other, don’t you think? it’s not just you.”
his chuckle returns, and you can’t help but look up at him, startled by the sound. his eyes are crinkled again, and there’s something so genuine in the way he’s looking at you that it makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand. “besides,” he adds with a grin, “i didn’t know you could cry so cutely. who knew, huh?”
your face burns with embarrassment, and you quickly swipe at your eyes, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “don’t say things like that,” you mumble, though you can’t quite hide the small smile tugging at your lips.
“got you to laugh though?” chenle points out with a snicker, but this time it feels different—lighter, as if the weight of years of rivalry is starting to lift. “let’s call it even,” he says, his tone playful but sincere. “you don’t have to feel guilty anymore. we’re both here, right? so, no more holding grudges. deal?”
you nod slowly, still feeling a bit shaky, but there’s a sense of relief settling in your chest. maybe things between you and chenle weren’t so black and white as you had thought.
