#but that other series popularity disturbs me

[littlestarxmilkyway]

A lot of things bug me about peoples hype over M/sh/k/, but I think the main thing I can't stand is how everyone raves about the protagonist's character development.

If y'all want a protagonist that isn't a gross creep and shows some powerful character growth, just read and/or watch The Twelve Kingdoms. The surrounding cast of characters are fascinating in their own right too, but the protagonist especially goes through some shit. And it's interesting watching a docile girl change into someone harsh, cold and fragile, to growing into herself again and more.

[theoldsports]

SOUR.

Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words

it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.

warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.

“Art?”

“Nngh.”

“Artie, wake up.”

“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.

“I don’t like this storm.”

What a sign that storm should have been.

Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”

“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”

Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”

“No.”

Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.

“I don’t see what this has to do with—“

“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”

“You breathing.”

“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”

[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”

“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”

“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”

“I’m not your wife.”

Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”

Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.

It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.

[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.

“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.

“What’s today?”

“Patrick’s in town.”

Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.

“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”

Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”

“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”

“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”

[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.

“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”

“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.

“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”

“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.

And they would have stayed like that all day.

They would have.

BANG BANG BANG.

Like gunshots.

Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.

“Patrick.” They both said.

With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.

“Pretty baby!”

“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”

BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.

“Art!”

“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”

[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”

“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.

[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.

The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.

And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.

Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.

Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.

Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.

[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.

When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.

Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.

“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.

“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.

“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.

“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.

Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].

“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.

Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M

“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.

“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.

“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.

Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.

Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?

[Y/N] had a sedan.

She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.

“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.

He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”

Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.

“I’m good enough to take the hit.”

[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”

“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“

“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”

“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“

“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“

“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”

[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”

“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.

[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?

[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”

“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.

“Not with Art.”

“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”

“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.

Patrick scratched his right forearm again.

“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.

“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.

“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.

Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.

“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.

Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“

“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.

Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.

“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.

“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.

The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.

[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”

Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.

And he went out through the bathroom window.

[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.

[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.

[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.

“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.

“Patrick’s gone.”

“Hm?”

“Patrick’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone.”

“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”

Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.

“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.

“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.

Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.

“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. And then?”

“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.

“Hey, call me.”

“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”

“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”

“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”

“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”

“Don’t come back.”

Eventually, the voicemail box was full.

[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”

“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”

Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.

“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.

“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.

Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.

[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”

“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.

[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”

“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”

“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.

Wife was all Art heard and he melted.

“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.

“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.

“They don’t talk.”

“I know. Just in case he turns up.”

Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.

Patrick was gone.

But Art was there for all of it.

TAGLIST:

@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry

[bvidzsoo]

Under the pretense (1)

The second installment of Popular boys? Overrated ♡

❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

🎭Warning: cursing, very slight mention of being suicidal 🎭Word count: 6.2k 🎭Genre: humor, cliché themes, 90's rom-com vibes; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sport!au; Enemies to Lovers!au 🎭Rating: nc-17 🎭Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I present you the start of Yunho and our MC's story, I hope it caught your attention and you'll stick around for the next two parts. You can also check out Seonghwa's, which happens in the same universe, it's in the series m.list. The taglist is open, so just lmk in whose part you'd like to be tagged. I made a visual board and playlist for the series, so check them out as I still update them! ^^ Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought of this part, I love reading your feedback! divider

Taglist: @anxiousskylar @philijack @alienvibecheck @yunhosfairy

♡ Series M.list ♡

꧁༺ Visual Board ༻꧂

♫ Playlist ♫

            I had always been a dreamer, a child with big sparkling eyes, eager to discover the world and its wonders. My parents had always considered me naïve and way too kind, but I found life easier to navigate if I remained humble and kind to those around me. I was not too fond of loud spaces and huge crowds, I would much rather prefer smaller circles where everyone came together to spend their time in silence. That’s how I discovered my elementary school’s reading club. I had been young and disoriented after a strenuous P.E. class when walking down the hallway, pushed into a door by two bigger boys as they chased each other down the hallway. The door I was slammed into wasn’t closed, so I very ungraciously fell inside a classroom in which five people sat in a circle, in silence, with books in their hands and candy on the round table. Eyes fell onto me, mostly surprised, and I blushed as I sputtered my apologies, embarrassed and wanting to hide away as I had disturbed their peace, but my curiosity got the better of me. The teacher in the room made sure I was fine and asked whether I wanted to join them when she noticed me staring longingly at the book in her hands. I didn’t say no to her.

And really, that’s how my love for literature and theatre sparked, evolving into a passion by the time I reached my high school graduation. I knew what I wanted to be, I knew what I had to do next. I had been a theatre kid my whole life, so when my mother rushed inside my room one cool summer evening with my acceptance letter in her hands, I knew my life would change in the next few seconds. Allston Hall University, the dream institution of every student who wishes to become someone important and useful in the near future. I was one of those students, tears streaming down my cheeks due to happiness when my mother read the letter, informing me that I had been accepted and was even the student with the highest grade currently. It was a dream come true, everything I have worked for, my aspirations and hard work were tangible, and I finally felt like I could release the breath of air that’s been constricting my lungs ever since I sent in my application. I was rushing towards the future I wanted, the one I had been dreaming of.

But all good things had a downside to them. Allston Hall University was huge, the biggest in our county, and it harboured various majors and many people, to the point you’d have to watch your every step in the hallways to avoid crashing into anyone. My first day, and week, had been nerve-wracking. People were loud and friendly, sometimes too friendly, to the point I felt uncomfortable in their presence and had to excuse myself to take a moment of solitude. Despite being a theatre kid myself, I felt like the odd one in my circle of people, the one that didn’t fully belong, the one that was a bit different. Everyone around me was outgoing and boisterous, eager to be heard, and even more eager to make more friends. I was quiet and curious, but I liked watching people from the sidelines, assessing a situation from afar before jumping into anything. I liked to meet new people, but I struggled to find common ground with them. I never had many friends growing up, most were surface-level, but the one true friend I did have decided to move counties and start working, instead of following an academic path. There was nothing wrong with that, but our time was limited together and she rarely visited, our friendship has transformed into a long-distance one.

But, to my utmost surprise, I didn’t stay friendless at this huge university for too long. As an extracurricular, I have picked up a Visual Arts class since I have been always interested in it. The class was small and filled with people who dressed better than in any fashion magazine I had seen, all of them having a peculiar aura that I seemed to enjoy a lot. And, to my surprise, they were more like me than my own colleagues. They were quiet, mostly sticking to themselves with big headphones on as they bobbed their heads to the music, briefly greeting you once you entered the classroom. They were mostly art majors, but they didn’t make me feel bad for not being one. A passion was a passion, and they didn’t make fun of you for loving what you loved. However, even here, it seemed that there was someone who wasn’t like the others, someone who was loud and energetic, always laughing and joking with students and professors alike. She was like a happy virus, her happy disposition contagious, and without realizing it at first, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was because we were complete opposites, unlike my closest friend who thought and viewed the world similarly to me, but with Wendy everything seemed to feel like a new experience.

I couldn’t tell when it happened when the two of us became best friends, but it’s been a year since and we were almost inseparable. Wendy loved spending her free time with me, humming to herself and drawing while I wrote sonnets and read through the next play we’d be going through or even performing with Mrs. Jeong. Wendy felt like a fresh breeze, ready to yank me away from my monotonous days, eager to experience something new. I hated amusement parks, but I went to one with her and had the fun of my life, having never screamed or laughed as much as that afternoon. Wendy couldn’t skate, but one snowy evening, I took her to the skating ring and taught her how to find her balance, and through baby steps, she became even better than me. Wendy loved visual arts but she never understood the charm of a book, a play, or a poem, so I brought her along to the reading club I had been frequenting since my freshman year in high school, and it was an unforgettable experience for the both of us, but Wendy concluded that perhaps literature just wasn’t for her. Much similar to my experience, when I let her drag me to Allston Hall’s first baseball game of the year, all excited and giddy to see her favourite players, only for me to conclude at the end of the game that the sport held no interesting elements for me to find likeable or enjoyable, baseball just wasn’t invented for me.

So yes, Wendy and I were opposite sides of the same coin, eager to learn more and discover the world through our own lenses while dragging the other after ourselves. This would explain why we were currently decked out at the bleachers, sitting at the lowest spot as Wendy’s eyes followed the boys while they played a friendly game and warmed up for their very soon upcoming game. Wendy was athletic and loved to get in a good morning run, which she usually did outside the bleachers to catch a peek of when the boys would go in to exercise. It was embarrassing at first, to walk in every second day with her and have the boys gawking at us, but now it was plainly amusing to see Wendy fall over herself whenever one of them acknowledged her. Her father had been a player in a smaller league, so Wendy grew up in the sport, hence her immense love for it. She was convinced the boys on the University’s team were undiscovered gems and she made sure to stick around them until one of them finally asked her out. She thought I didn’t know, but it was rather obvious that her eyes were set on Byun Baekhyun, the biggest trickster on the team with a notorious grip that could send any batter into a spiral when he’d pitch—these were Wendy’s words, not mine.

I continued flipping through the shortened version of Pride and Prejudice as we would soon do a small audition to see who got which role. Mrs. Jeong wanted to do something special and new this year, so there have been added elements to the play—ones that would send Jane Austen into an existential crisis, in my opinion, but Mrs. Jeong likes to think out of the box and considers herself an innovative person—which I agree with, but the play would’ve been best without the modifications done to it. Wendy, sitting in front of me as I had taken the bench between my legs, hunched over my play, sighed dreamily and tapped her fingers against her chin. She was usually a very loud person, but surprisingly she knew when to remain silent, when to give me space and tranquillity to be able to enjoy my reading time. Her short hair stuck to her nape as she decided to run an extra lap this morning, on the verge of hyperventilating when she finally ran inside the arena, spotting me easily as I was the only person in the bleachers while the boys did their warm-ups. Her bag was with me and I knew she refrained from sprawling out on the ground just because Baekhyun was watching her, so I handed her the water bottle with an amused smile. Wendy took it with gratitude and sprinkled some on her face and neck before she took a small sip, chest still heaving from her run.

“That was very sexy of you,” I said with a chuckle as she settled next to me, trying to regulate her breaths as she caught Baekhyun’s eyes, cheeks flushing even deeper as he waved in our direction. Wendy fumbled with her water bottle for a second, then eagerly waved back and pushed my thigh with her elbow to acknowledge Baekhyun as well. I flashed him a smile and gave him a curt nod, which he returned before the coach blew his whistle and called out his name to get him to focus again.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Wendy mumbled, grabbing her towel out of her bag, “my throat was parched and my brain felt like it was overheating.”

“When will you stop finding ways to kill yourself?” I raised an eyebrow and Wendy gave me a look of confusion.

“I’m just pushing my limits, nothing you have to worry about.” Wendy shrugged, taking a sip of her water again, “You know I’m training for the marathon.”

“Right, I almost forgot.” I fixed Wendy with a stare, rather unimpressed as it was impossible to forget that she was training for next month’s marathon. She speaks of it daily, around the same time after she finishes her run and complains about being on the verge of passing out, I’m sure there are other ways of training yourself for a marathon that don’t involve putting too much pressure on yourself and sending your body into despair as it clings to life—a bit dramatic, but that’s what being a theatre kid made of me.

This was half an hour ago, and now Wendy had completely settled down as she was leaned back on her hands, gazing out onto the field as I blocked out the sound of a bat hitting the ball every few minutes, enraptured by the play as I imagined Mr. Darcy standing in front of me, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes shining with confusion as Miss Elizabeth—me—tells him that he cannot disrespect her whole family and look down on her, and then expect her to fall to her knees and accept his affections. The language was a lot more modern than the one Jane Austen had used, this is where Mrs. Jeong’s crafting comes into play and makes me cringe as Elizabeth is supposed to tell Mr. Darcy that ‘she won’t throw herself at him like every other bitch’, I just knew Jane Austen was rolling in her grave at the atrocity that’s been done to her masterpiece. I could try and convince Mrs. Jeong to modify that part, hopefully, as she’s rather keen on me due to how seriously I take her classes. Cheers erupted on the field and they increased in volume as Wendy gasped next to me, holding her hands together as she was on the verge of shooting up from her seat. The boys were merely training, yet Wendy treated it like a real game every time she got the chance.

“Oh, that’s a home run—” Wendy’s voice was strained, and she sprang up from her spot as the whole team exclaimed, making me lose my train of thought as I couldn’t focus in loud surroundings, “Seungkwan just hit a home run!”

I looked out towards the field as the boys crowded around Seungkwan, forming a circle as they made howling sounds and jumped around, making Seungkwan cackle loudly as he basked in the attention. He was a rather uptight guy, but out on the field, he was simply amazing although he’s never managed to hit a home run until now.

“Oh, this is amazing,” Wendy mused, her eyes sparkling as she clapped away, showing the boys thumbs-up as they turned our way to bow, pushing Seungkwan to the front as he grinned widely, “They’ll ace the next game, Y/N, I can feel it deep in my bones.”

I chuckled but said nothing as I knew this meant a lot to Wendy, and only grabbed her arm to make her sit down when the coach threw her an irritated look. They couldn’t kick us out because we weren’t doing anything illegal or interrupting their training, but I knew the coach wasn’t too fond of two girls always lingering around the bleachers to distract his boys. Not that it was our attention, but I have caught them busy ogling us instead of doing their warm-ups. Wendy was buzzing as she sat down, chewing her bottom lip before she started chewing her nails, making me grip her wrist to stop her as I knew she did it subconsciously. She gave me a grateful smile and I turned back to my play as the boys had calmed down too, going back to their friendly game.

“Do you want to stay for longer?” I asked as I flipped to the next page, eyebrows furrowing as it was Mr. Darcy’s monologue that wasn’t in the original work, “I think I could make use of a coffee right now.”

“Can’t we stay for another fifteen minutes at least?” Wendy asked with a pout, her sparkly eyes widening as I gave her an unimpressed look, “Yunho is up for pitching right now and then it’s Baekhyun again, I promise we can leave once he’s done.”

I sighed but knew I wouldn’t drag my best friend away before she got to watch Baekhyun pitch again, so I just nodded and threw a quick glance at the field. Indeed, player number 04 was up for pitching, Jeong Yunho. His name didn’t leave a distaste in my mouth as I, thankfully, had never had to interact with him, but it was inevitable to know who he was with how huge his reputation had gotten over the last year. We started out at university at the same time, he’s been a baseball player since he was just a child, and he was rising in the ranks rather quickly. He was amazing, even as someone who still didn’t understand how baseball worked, I knew he was good at what he did and he was often praised for his skills. He was the best pitcher the team had—the university has had for ages, at least based on the coach’s words—and he carried himself like a successful athlete would, always smiling brightly with his warm eyes twinkling with mischief-ridden in them.

Sure, Jeong Yunho had a warm and perceiving aura, friendly and even kind, but even those couldn’t stop the rumours spreading of him being a heartthrob. Better said, he was a womanizer. He appeared to be this soft and puppy type of guy, sweeping girls off their feet with his acts of service and soft-spoken nature, but just as quickly as he wrapped them around his fingers, he dropped them without his ‘kind’ smile breaking from his lips, eyes even teary when he told them that he just wasn’t right for them, that they deserved someone better. Behind his innocent mask lay a man who enjoyed playing with others and using them to his liking with a deceiving smile and excuses that didn’t make sense upon another thought. But many girls didn’t care about the rumours, they thought they were simply fake because certainly the sweet and kind Jeong Yunho couldn’t be like that, not with them at least. And that is exactly how they go their hearts broken by the most sought out playboy of our university, from the baseball team at least. The soccer team was even worse, you’d never hear the end of how cool and mysterious Park Seonghwa was. Personally, I preferred my peace of mind and stayed away from both.

I heard the bat collide against the ball with a loud bang, and I could tell it was a strong hit as the boys ‘oohed’, but Wendy just gasped, stiffening in her seat. I paid it no mind as she reacted to every single thing the players did, living in the moment and giving her all to the game—even if just friendly. But some exclaimed alarmed and tried to warn us—or me—of something, but I was too busy ignoring them as my irritation levels were rising. I just really wanted a cup of coffee and silence to be able to finish reading the play before my class later today.

“Y/N!” Wendy’s shrill exclamation made my head snap up, taking in her wide eyes as she gesticulated, only confusing me more. Turning my head to the right, to see what got the boys reacting like that as well, my own eyes widened into saucers when I realized a white small ball was hurling at my face rather quickly. I knew I could dodge it, it wasn’t too late yet, but I felt blindsided as I stared at it, accepting the fact that it would either break my nose or give me a black eye. But someone was moving on the field, had been for a few seconds now, running full speed towards me and the ball. And before it could collide against my face and ruin it, a black glove was in my face, so close that if I puckered my lips, it would’ve touched the fabric. My heart was beating fast and I stared up at the person who caught the ball with wide eyes, exhaling loudly as Wendy yelped and shot up from her seat again.

For a second, it was completely silent, even the coach stood staring at us with an open mouth, whistle threatening to fall from it, but the boys on the field suddenly started howling once again, yelling and calling out my ‘saviour’s’ name. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as his cheeks were rosy from the bite of frost of the morning air, but also from having pitched for the last few minutes. I could feel my own cheeks tinge red from the adrenaline and also from the way the guy’s warm chocolate eyes seemed to melt into mine. Yunho looked pleased that he managed to catch the ball, and his fingers closed around it as he lowered his hand and leaned down a little. My back was rigid as I couldn’t help but blink at him wordlessly, gripping the play tightly in my hands.

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows furrowed more, and his face was ridden with worry as he searched for eye contact. I gulped and averted my eyes, exhaling shakily.

“Yes,” I took a tentative glance at Yunho and cleared my throat, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyebrows furrowed as he looked apologetic, biting his bottom lip which was cherry red and plump, “I positioned my arm wrong and I was distracted when I pitched, I almost hurt you.”

“Oh, uhm,” I stared at him for a few seconds as I felt Wendy sit back down and subtly nudge my arm, “It’s fine, you managed to catch it so—good job?”

Yunho chuckled, and I was taken aback by how high-pitched it sounded and how warm his tone was, cheeks puffy and rosy, and definitely giving him this sweet and innocent aura, “Glad to be your saviour despite putting you in harm's way myself.”

I hummed as I found myself lost for words, all the acting classes I had taken flying out the window. There was something about his gaze that made me feel small, made me forget how to articulate my words, “Best if it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Yunho chuckled and I felt embarrassed, but he didn’t look like he meant bad, he seemed simply amused. I was sure he could tell I was flustered and that only made me feel more embarrassed, “Right, I’ll try to keep my eyes off you next time then, focus more on pitching.”

Wendy gasped next to me as I just stared at Yunho dumbfounded, trying not to let my confusion show at the sudden change of events. Well, I was under the impression nobody paid me any mind as I never really paid them any mind, I was here for Wendy and it was pretty obvious.

“Are you reading a play by any chance?” Yunho asked as he looked down at my lap, and I cleared my throat, feeling hesitant as I nodded my head.

“Yeah, Pride and—”

“Pride and Prejudice,” He smiled sweetly, his eyes hidden by his baseball cap, “my favourite.”

I knew Wendy wanted to scream and jump up and down, but she was doing a good job of remaining put and silent. For some reason, Yunho didn’t pass me as the person who would pick up a book, let alone a play, to read, so I just gave him a tight smile and an unimpressed look. I had heard the rumours, and I was sure they were true, I didn’t want to fall for his schemes.

“Right.” My tone was a bit sharp and I knew it took him off guard because his eyebrows twitched, “Aren’t you supposed to be pitching?”

And as if the coach had heard my words, he blew his whistle loudly and shouted, “Jeong, get back on the field!”

Yunho bit his lower lip and grabbed his cap as he nodded his head, winking at me before he was jogging back onto the field, making me grimace. Wendy’s eyebrows were raised and she had a suggestive smile on her face, but I just sighed and shook my head, deciding that I wanted to have coffee now, “We both know he sleeps with every girl and then dumps them right after, so before you get even started, I’m not interested in him at all.”

“But he’s so handsome and tall.” Wendy sighed dreamily and I chuckled, standing up.

“There are plenty of tall and handsome guys at our university, I’ll find myself a decent one, thank you very much.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get my coffee.”

“But Baekhyun hadn’t pitched yet.”

I chuckled as Wendy whined, rooted to her place as I got off the bench.

“Meet me at the coffee shop then, I have class in an hour so don’t stay for long.”

“I love you! Save me a seat by the window!”

I chuckled and nodded, waving Wendy off as she focused on the game again, eyes wide and attentive. I kept to the side of the field so that I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and walked quickly so that I could be out of the arena swiftly, without angering the coach. Wonwoo, who was the left fielder, threw me a quick smile and I waved at him as I passed by, feeling eyes on the back of my head. I didn’t turn around to check who it was as the coach had spotted me and narrowed his eyes at me. I bowed my head and then slipped out of the arena, less stressed and happier now that I was about to get my caffeine fill of the day.

             The rest of my day had gone well, and I was more than excited to attend my last class of the day, drama class. We’d hold the rest of our courses at the small theatre of the University as Mrs. Jeong wanted us to focus on the upcoming play only, assignments already handed out as our final grade now depended on finishing it on time and also delivering our best in the play, the two grades turning into our final score. I happily skipped down the stairs of the theatre and greeted a few of my colleagues as I settled not too far from the front rows, somewhere in the middle of the row. I liked sitting by myself so that nobody could distract me while Mrs. Jeong gave us advice and coached us on how to deliver the lines, when to put emotion in it and just how much of it. I placed my coat on the chair on my right and left my backpack on the floor as I leaned down to unzip it and grab the play, my yellow notebook, a black pen and a green marker. I heard the door of the theatre close and open loudly, then running down the stairs and shuffling as I straightened up, trying to organize my things in my lap as I waited for Mrs. Jeong to show up.

To my surprise, there was movement on my left and I looked over, curious of who decided to sit right next to me when there were numerous empty seats in the theatre, only to find Jeong Yunho staring back at me with a surprised expression similar to mine on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hey I know you, hi!”

Yunho and I spoke at the same time as I heard the girls sitting a few rows in the back behind us whisper and giggle to each other. Yunho flushed as he pushed his leather jacket off his wide shoulders and settled quietly in the seat next to mine. I continued staring at him with confusion as his legs spread out wide, his head turning to face me.

“You’re the girl from this morning,” Yunho said as he disregarded my question, “I actually see you around the field often, do you like baseball?”

“No.” I deadpanned and Yunho’s enthusiasm died out at once, smiling unsure, “My friend loves baseball so I tag along with her sometimes.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Yunho’s smile became more confident as his eyes took in my features, making me feel a bit uncomfortable, “And how are you?”

“I’m—fine.” I still didn’t understand what he was doing here, but I wasn’t about to be rude to him, “And you?”

Yunho’s smile widened into a grin, and he threw a short glance behind us when the girls started giggling louder, “Rather good knowing you’re here too. Why are you here?”

I tried to refrain from sighing at his not-so-subtle flirting and occupied my hands as I grabbed my marker and fiddled with it, “I’m a drama major, Yunho.”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a small fraction, cheeks flushing, “Oh, that sounds lovely, I—sorry, I’m just taken aback that you know my name.”

I didn’t mean to glare at him, but he was bad at playing the abashed and shy boy persona, perhaps a few acting courses wouldn’t do him bad, “You’re on the baseball team and I have gone to almost every game of yours, so I think it’s only natural I know everyone’s name on the team, no?” I didn’t let him answer me as I gave him a scrutinizing look, “Besides, you’re quite famous for breaking the hearts of the girls you go out with, right?”

Now, I could tell he was actually flustered as he averted his eyes, biting his bottom lip as the flush from his cheeks spread to his ears too. Yunho’s dark hair was messy and wavy, and he wore his glasses now. The black turtleneck made him look comfy and safe, his dark jeans complementing his long legs nicely.

“Ah, those are just rumours, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” He rubbed his nape and looked back at me, “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

I sighed and thought about whether I should tell him, but it was only right since I knew his name and didn’t want to look like a prick, “It’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He grinned widely and extended his hand to shake, “I’m Yunho, but you know that already.”

I hummed and took his hand, a little surprised by how long his fingers were and how much bigger his palm was, it made me blush as I carefully pulled my hand out of his, busying myself with my marker, “So, what are you doing here? It’s a bit weird seeing a sports major here, you know.”

Yunho groaned and I glanced at him to see him rubbing his forehead, “Don’t even tell me about it, it’s completely against my will, if I’m being honest. Not that I hate the theatre or anything, but I’d be much rather doing something else.”

“Well, you can just get up and walk out before the professor comes, you know,” I suggested, nodding my head towards the exit, but Yunho had a solemn look on his face. He let his hands fall in his lap as he intertwined his fingers.

“Actually, I can’t.” He pouted, and I tried not to think of him as a manchild, it wasn’t very appealing, “You see, I might have done something that was against the rules, and this is basically my punishment if I don’t want to lose my scholarship, or worse, get kicked out. I mean, my career would be ruined before I even had the chance to start it, you know?”

I nodded, pretty much on board with what he was saying, “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, it sucks but I still don’t understand why drama class out of all classes they could’ve punished you with.”

“Ugh, right?! Don’t even get me started on it,” Yunho rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses as he licked his lips, turning his body to face mine, “Like, the principal is totally crazy for placing me in this class! I don’t know why she thought a little play-pretending would fix my attitude—her words, not mine—but it certainly won’t. Like, whatever I did wasn’t even that serious, it’s the fact that the stupid professor can’t take a joke, I didn’t even sleep with his daughter!”

So, this is who the real Jeong Yunho was, unfiltered, and apparently, not as perfect and charming as everyone thought him to be. I chuckled, amused that he’d have to suffer through our drama classes because I knew the outsiders always viewed us as crazy whenever they stumbled through the doors of the theatre, “And how long until your punishment is over?”

“This whole semester, can you believe it?” Yunho sounded annoyed, but his face remained void of any annoyance as he slumped in his chair, looking defeated, “I swear to God, the principal was high on some shit when she threatened to throw me out if I didn’t heed her orders. It’s like—I know she’s my mother but we’re at school, for fuck’s sake! Like—this is university, she can’t punish me like I’m some sort of five-year-old, no?!”

I covered my mouth to try and hide my amusement at his outburst, which got other students chuckling. I meant to answer him, but a rather loud scoff coming from the first row caught everyone’s attention as suddenly they stood, whirling around, hands on their hips. My amusement died down as my eyes widened, staring at Mrs. Jeong in surprise, I didn’t know she was there, I thought she was running late.

“Oh, really, young man?” Her sharp eyes narrowed, and I watched from the corner of my eyes as Yunho’s own widened, mouth falling open, “You think you’re here because I believed whatever that professor accused you of? No, you’re here because you promised me you’d stop fooling around, yet here we are!”

“Mom?” Yunho seemed pale as Mrs. Jeong glared him down, he turned to me with a desperate look on his face, “What’s she doing here?!”

He whisper-shouted as Mrs. Jeong scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. I felt a bit awkward and put on the spot as I nodded in acknowledgement at her, then faced her son, “Mrs. Jeong is the head of our department.”

Yunho’s eyes widened comically and I chuckled as I bit my lower lip, “Uhm, did you not know that your mother is the head of the drama club and department?”

“No!” Yunho whisper-shouted and eyed his mother, who had started to grin in contentment. I could see the resemblance in the two as I looked between the mother and son, their smiles were the same and their cheeks were puffy and almost always rosy. Mrs. Jeong was a lovely and compassionate woman, it sometimes made me wonder why Yunho had such little respect for women when his mother must’ve raised him right.

“If you’re done parading yourself, son, I’d like to start my class, thank you very much.” Mrs. Jeong raised her eyebrows and Yunho grumbled something under his breath as he slipped lower in his chair.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jeong.” He avoided eye contact with his mother and Mrs. Jeong smiled in victory, eyes taking in the place as she counted how many there were of us. I smiled at her when her eyes fell on me and she returned it, clapping her hands once she was done.

“Good, I see more of you joined us—I didn’t count my son in—I hope you’re all ready to rehearse for the play before the auditions, and I’m more than eager to help you all out. Today, I’d like to highlight some of the culminant points of the play and discuss the acting techniques they should be delivered with.” Mrs. Jeong intertwined her hands behind her back and nodded before she went to grab her own copy of the play. Yunho looked helpless as he glanced around the room, sighing long as he peered down at my lap over my shoulder.

“Uh, can you share yours with me?” He grumbled, not so smiley anymore, “I didn’t know what we’d be doing today, I’ll bring my play for the next class.”

“Just this once,” I said with a pointed look and put my copy of the play between us, “I don’t like to share and I like to sit alone, just so you know in the future.”

“All alone?” Yunho asked curiously, “Don’t you like sharing?”

“I like my peace of mind and quiet.” I answered, raising my eyebrows at him, “And I really like to be left alone, Yunho, so don’t try to distract me.”

“Okay,” He whispered as he flipped through the pages, making me give him a small glare, “I’ll be silent, but don’t expect me to survive this whole semester if you ignore me the whole time.”

“Go make friends, I’m sure the girls behind us are more than eager to sit with you,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes, and Yunho grinned as he leaned slightly closer.

“Is that a hint of jealousy—”

“Mr. Jeong,” Mrs. Jeong snapped and we both looked at her alarmed, she was frowning at her son, “Leave Miss Lee alone, yes? Or I’ll make sure to fail you in this class—”

“But mom!” Yunho whined, sitting up straight as he leaned forward, “You can’t do that, I’m not even registered for this class!”

“Really?” Mrs. Jeong chuckled, “Aren’t you?”

“You did not.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Yunho’s mouth fell open in shock, and I had to turn my head to hide my silent laugh as Yunho turned into a whining manchild once again, “You will behave in my class, young man, and you’ll let Miss Lee be, understood?”

“Understood, Mrs. Jeong.” Yunho grumbled under his breath and looked down, a grimace on his face as he muttered something to himself, “I can’t even skip class now, for fuck’s sake.”

A laugh slipped through as I gave Yunho another amused smile and then grabbed my marker, way too amused by how things were turning out to be. Yunho didn’t look too amused but Mrs. Jeong did, and she spoke up with a smile on her face, asking us to flip to the thirteenth page of our play.

I could only hope Jeong Yunho, the Casanova, wouldn’t ruin one of my favourite classes for me.

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[samwisethewitch]

What Non-Pagans Need to Know About Fiction Featuring Pagan Gods

In light of Marvel's Loki show dropping a second season and a new Percy Jackson series on the horizon, I want to say some things about how fandom spaces can be respectful of real-life pagan religion.

Let's get one thing out of the way: literally no one is saying you can't enjoy fiction that uses pagan gods and heroes as characters. No one is saying, "Stop writing stories about our gods." In fact, many ancient cultures wrote fiction about their gods -- look at Greek theater or the Norse Eddas. The act of writing fiction about the gods is not offensive in itself.

But please remember that this is someone's religion.

The gods are not "just archetypes." Their myths are not "just stories." Their personalities are not a matter of artistic interpretation. For many pagans, the gods are very much real in a literal sense. I don't think Thor is a metaphor or a symbol -- for me, Thor is a real, autonomous spiritual being who exists outside of human perceptions of him, and who I have chosen to build a relationship with. Even if you are a hardcore atheist, I would hope you could at least be respectful of the fact that, to many modern pagans, the gods are both very real and very important.

When authors are not respectful of this fact, they reduce the gods, these very real objects of worship, to fictional characters. And here's the thing about fictional characters: they are fundamentally tools for authors to use to draw a desired emotional response from an audience.

Dracula's personality and behavior is wildly different depending on who is writing him, because different authors use Dracula to create different reactions in their audiences. In the 1931 film starring Bela Lugosi, he's equal parts alluring and disturbing, a symbol of America's mixed desire and disdain for foreigners. In Nosferatu, he's more strictly frightening and disgusting. In Francis Ford Coppola's movie, he's a tragic, romantic figure clinging to the last scraps of his humanity. In Netflix's Castlevania, he's an incredibly powerful being who has grown bitter and apathetic in his immortality. All of this is Dracula, and all of it is fine, because Dracula is not and never has been a central figure in anyone's religion.

Let's take a look at what happens when authors give this same treatment to real gods:

In Hellenic polytheism, Apollo is one of the most beloved gods, both historically and today. Apollo loves humanity, and humanity loves him back. He is the god of sunlight and of medicine, but also of poetry and song. He is one of humanity's most consistent defenders when one of the other gods gets wrathful. And while he does have dangerous or wrathful aspects of his own (he's also the god of disease, after all), he's also kind and soft with humanity in a way other gods often aren't, at least in some historic sources.

In the Lore Olympus comic series, Apollo is a villain. He's characterized as an abuser, a manipulator, and a violent man child. LO!Apollo is downright hateful, because the author wants us to hate him. Lore Olympus is a retelling of a myth about an abduction and forced marriage. Lore Olympus is also a romance. In order to get the audience to sympathize with Hades and root for his relationship with Persephone, Rachel Smythe needed to make someone else the villain. Apollo is the most obvious and extreme character assassination in Smythe's work, but several other gods (notably Demeter) also get the asshole makeover to tell the story Smythe wants to tell.

Here's where this becomes a problem: Hellenic polytheism is a fairly small religious community, while Lore Olympus is a massively popular webtoon with 1.3 billion views as of August 2023, print books available from major retailers, a TV adaptation in the works, and a very active online fandom. Rachel Smythe currently has a MUCH bigger platform than any Hellenic polytheism practitioner. Smythe and other authors are shaping how modern culture views the Hellenic gods, and that has a very real impact on their worshipers.

This means "Apollo is an abusive asshole" is becoming a popular take online, and is even creeping into pagan communities. I've personally seen people be harassed for worshiping Apollo because of it. I've seen new pagans and pagan-curious folks who totally misunderstand the roles Apollo, Hades, and Persephone play in the Hellenic pantheon because of Lore Olympus and other modern works of fiction.

There are tons of other examples of this in modern pop culture, but I'll just rattle off a few of the ones that annoy me most: Rick Riordan depicting Ares/Mars as a brutish asshole hyped up on toxic masculinity; Rick Riordan depicting Athena as a mother goddess; Marvel depicting Thor as a dumb jock; Marvel depicting Odin as a cold, uncaring father; DC depicting Ares as purely evil; whatever the fuck the Vikings TV show was trying to do with seidr; the list goes on.

All of these are examples of religious appropriation. Religious appropriation is when sacred symbols are taken out of their original religious context by outsiders, so that the original meaning is lost or changed. It requires a power imbalance -- the person taking the symbols is usually part of a dominant religious culture. In many cases, the person doing the appropriation has a much bigger platform than anyone who has the knowledge to correct them.

When Rick Rioridan or Rachel Smythe totally mischaracterizes a Greek god to tell a story, and then actual Hellenic pagans get harassed for worshiping that god, that's religious appropriation.

Religious appropriation is a real issue. This isn't just pagans being sensitive. To use an extreme example: Richard Wagner and other German Romantic authors in the 19th century used the Norse gods and other Germanic deities as symbols in their work, which was a major influence on Nazi philosophy. Without Wagner, the Nazis would not have latched onto the Norse gods as symbols of their white supremacist agenda. To this day, there are white supremacist groups who claim to worship our gods or who use our religious imagery in their hate movement. We are still reckoning with the misinterpretation of our gods popularized by Wagner and other German Romantics almost 200 years ago.

Again, no one is saying you can't enjoy fiction based on pagan mythology. But there are a few things you can do to help prevent religious appropriation in fandom spaces:

Above all else, be mindful that while this may just be a story to you, it is someone's religion.

Recognize that enjoying fiction based on our gods does not mean you know our gods. You know fictional characters with the same names as our gods, who may or may not be accurate to real-life worship.

Do not argue with or try to correct pagans when we talk about our experience of our gods.

Don't invalidate or belittle pagan worship. Again, this mostly comes down to recognizing that our religion is totally separate from your fandom. We aren't LARPing or playing pretend. Our sacred traditions are real and valid.

If you see other people in your fandom engaging in religious appropriation, point out what they are doing and why it isn't okay.

Please tag your fandom content appropriately on social media. Always tag the show, movie, book, etc. that a post is about in addition to other relevant tags. This allows pagans to block these fandom tags if we don't want to see them and prevents fandom content showing up in religious tags.

For example, if I'm posting about Athena from the Percy Jackson books, I would tag the post #athena #athenapjo #percyjackson #pjo. You get the idea.

And if fiction sparks your interest and you want to learn more about the actual worship of the gods, you can always ask! Most pagans love talking about our gods and trading book recs.

If you are writing fiction based on real mythology, talk to people who worship those gods. Ask them what a respectful portrayal would look like. If possible, include a note in your finished work reminding audiences that it is a work of fiction and not meant to accurately portray these gods.

[dreamywriter143]

Nihona

Status: Part One (1/3)

Parings: Neteyam x Reader (Step SiblingReader), Sully’s x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst, Romance, Fluff, Jealously, Forbidden Love Troupe, Step-Siblings, suggestive content!!, NSFW/MDNI (A small scene in this chapter) Masturbation, Slight exhibition/in a public place?, All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Miréya and Neytiri have been best friends since birth. Miréya was always by her side, comforting her when she lost her sister and when the sky people attacked. Neytiri loved her as if she was her own sister. Loosing her was unbearable for her and Jake. What will happen when they take in what is left off her? Take care of her daughter who is completely alone in this world? How will she adapt to her new family?

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Due to popular demand I'm continuing this mini series. This chapter does has suggestive content so please proceed with discretion. Also there are a lot of separate sections with tiny timeskips. Please bare with me😅 Other then that I hope you enjoy!

*Still under rough editing, please excuse any mistakes!*

__________________________________________

“Why are you avoiding me?” Neteyam finally managed to corner Y/n. Leaving her no route of escape. Y/n chews her lower lip  nervously as her eyes dart around aimlessly. She made sure not to make eye contact with Neteyam knowing fully well it would make her heart feel weird again.

“What do you mean? Why would I avoid you?” Y/n shrugs, shuffling under his stare uncomfortably. 

Neteyam gulps at her bruised lips, the product of her chewing them nervously. He couldn’t help but recall the events that left him breathless. That urged him to confront her which only got him to realize she was actively avoiding him. 

“You’re barely around. You don’t come with me to training anymore and you don’t wanna accompany me on rides! Riding our Ikran’s together-” Neteyam gestures in the space between them. “-that’s our thing” 

Y/n finally looks up, her breath hitched as she stared into his beautiful yellow hues. It was true that she had been avoiding him, but not for reasons he beat himself over, no. She was avoiding him due to her own revelation. 

The reason why she felt so giddy near her older brother, the reason why she always followed him around and hated when girls their age would try to gain his attention. It was love, infatuation.

After the ‘practice’ kiss Y/n had realized, she loved him. She loved her own brother as a lover. As a potential mate. And that disturbed the girl in unimaginable ways. She knew Neteyam didn't feel the same, he even reminded her prior and after the kiss that it was a ‘practice’,  that it had no meaning. But Y/n just couldn’t help it. 

She began to contemplate her whole existence. Why was she born into a family where she fell head over heels for her brother? The connection she felt towards him, the tug she felt that always lured her into his embrace. It was as if fate was mocking her, being cruel to her. Why was she cursed? 

She always  felt like something was missing in her life. Never once did her parents, Jake and Neytiri, refer to Y/n as their ‘daughter’. Though they showered her with love, when anyone asked about her it was always Y/n this, Y/n that. Not how they would refer to Kiri. As their daughter. 

This confused the girl which always left her empty. Luckily Neteyam was always there, always ready to hold her tight ensuring she was safe and secure. That she was loved. In Y/n’s eyes, falling for Neteyam was inevitable. 

“No-I’m….I’m sorry Neteyam. I’ve been in a really weird headspace lately” Y/n admits, stepping closer to her brother. Neteyam immediately engulfs her into a bone crushing embrace as Y/n lets out a sigh of relief. She feels her entire body let loose, beginning to melt into the embrace as her senses filled with his comforting scent. 

“Then tell me about it. Tell me what you feel. How you feel. I’ll always be here for you, Y/n. No matter what” Neteyam murmurs, his heart beating erratically at the fact he finally had her in his arms after being apart for what felt like forever. 

Y/n pulls back, peering up at her brother who smiles down at her. His braids falling past his face as she gently brushed them aside. He loved how Neteyam kept his hair long, braided neatly and let loose. she ha told him on numerous occations how it framed his face beautifully.

“I don’t want to burden you” 

“How could you? You are never a burden. I’m your brother, you are my responsibility.” Neteyam assures. Y/n’s eyes widened at his words, everything he said was true. She was foolish for loving him when he was the perfect brother to her. She realized then and there she would have to get over her childish crush. For her brother's sake. 

“I’m sorry for keeping my distance Neteyam….forgive me?” Y/n asks timidly as Neteyam beams. He squeezes her tightly against him in pure glee. 

“Of course baby sister!”

~~~~~~~~~~~6 Years Later~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n and Neteyam are both 19, turning 20 soon)

As the years flew by, Y/n and Neteyam’s bond only grew. In many ways more than one. 

Neteyam grew to be a great warrior, training every day and achieving feats unimaginable and heavily admired by the tribe. He grew to be the definition of  perfection, being nicknamed the ‘Prince of the Omatikaya’. He was widely admired and praised. The whole clan saw him as the perfect future leader as they marveled at his accomplishments. 

Not only did he prove himself over the years but he grew to be quite handsome. Attracting many suitors along the way. None of which caught his attention, though many had tried. 

Luckily Jake and Neytiri never pressured him to find a mate, but the clan did not forget. Many would approach him with requests, many older Na’vi offering their daughters for the privilege to be his mate which he always politely declined. 

How could he? How could he even think about finding a mate when Y/n looked like that.

“Would you look at that~~~” No'eng, Neteyam’s friend whispers, his eyes trained on a certain female Na'vi. 

Neteyam and his friend had been near the river gutting and cleaning the fish they had caught earlier in the day. Across them a few children jumped around in the water playfully. 

Neteyam looks up, his pupils dilating as they land on the very person his best friend openly gawked at. Y/n giggles as she splashes some water towards Tuk who dogged just in the nick of time. 

Over the years Y/n had also grown. Though Neteyam hoped and prayed his feelings would dissipate over the years growing alongside her, it didn't. She grew up to be beautiful. Her beauty and skills were admired amongst the clan. 

She grew a few feet taller, still shorter  than Neteyam  and many other men. Her long locks reaching past her shoulders, always perfectly braided to her liking. Somehow always  having beads and pearls that would always catch Neteyam's eyes. 

And her body, Neteyam always felt himself get hot when he thought of that. He desperately tried not to notice her physical development, but the longer he stared. The more tempted he got. The deeper his desires became. 

The way her bust grew, larger than many other female Na’vi but that much desirable. Neteyam often caught himself gazing at them, daydreaming about how they would feel against his hands. Her tiny waist that he knew would fit perfectly against his hands.

The list goes on and on. 

She was perfect, she is perfect. Not just to Neteyam but to many other males. Something Neteyam hated. 

“That's my sister No'eng, watch yourself” the sharpness in Neteyam’s tone causes the boy to quickly look away, apologizing quietly. It was well known that Neteyam protected all his siblings, especially Y/n. He made it his mission to keep everyone with lingering glances away,  all because he knew what they meant.

Which is why he was that much more protective over her. No one was good enough for his sister, not even himself. 

Neteyam’s ears twitched to the sound of Y/n’s laughter, it sounded so beautiful and serene. Neteyam glances over at his sister, a smile twitching along his lips. He watches how she gets splashed with water, claiming vengeance against Tuk who cowers away in mock fear. 

Neteyam’s face heats up as his eyes zone on the droplets of water that cascaded down her body, past her neck and into the confines of her top that shifted amidst all her movement. He gulps as his eyes catch the delicious sight of her nipples under her top now that it stuck onto her after getting wet. 

Clearing his throat loudly Neteyam forces his attention to the fish in hand. Ignoring the throbbing in between his legs. 

~~~~~~

“N-Neteyam, we shouldn't” Y/n whispers, her  eyes scrunched up in pleasure as she lays before her brother. His hands caged her in between them as he propped himself above her, his lips swipe along his lips as he tried to burn the image deep into his brain.

Y/n, sprawled underneath him with her hair spread out. Her face flush with embarrassment and lust, and her eyes dilated in desire. The same desire he felt shock through him, 

“Fuck, I know nihona, I know. I just can't help myself” (Sweet) Neteyam whines, his tone laced with pain from holding himself back. He felt his resolve disappear the more he watched her tremble underneath him. How long he had wished for this, how long he dreamed of this. To have her so close, withering under his heated touch.

Neteyam slides his knee up along her inner thigh, coming in contact with her hot cunt that causes her to jolt in surprise. “O-oh! N-Neteyam '' Y/n moans, closing her eyes at the feeling of him rubbing against her soaked folds. Neteyam sighs out loud, feeling her essence soak through the fabric, his knee working along her pussy. 

“Y-yes love. Say my name, just-l-like that” Neteyam gasps out. Who knew that Y/n gasping his name would sound so delicious? So addicting? 

Neteyam leans down, brushing his nose up against her neck. Finding the optional spot to take in a deep breath as her scent invaded her senses. He swipes his tongue along her delicate skin as she whimpers at the new, but welcomed sensation. 

“I need to be inside you, my nihona. P-please” Neteyam begs breathlessly. Unconsciously he bucks into the cot they were sprawled upon, seeking any sort of friction. Though every primal instinct in him wanted to take her no questions asked, he had to hear her admit to wanting it just as badly as him. Y/n shivers under him at his words. 

“N-Neteyam. I-I” 

~~

Neteyam jolts awake, a thick layer of sweat drenching his body. Tiny gasps escape him as he looks around to his surroundings trying to get a grip of where he was. He tries to calm down his heart rate as his eyes take in what was around him.

He realizes he’s in his family tent, tucked away is his respective corner. It was a dream, it was a fantasy he dreamt of every day. Though he lived for his fantasies, it only proved to be a curse when he realized that's all it was. A fantasy.  Feeling uncomfortable under his weaved cloth he pulls it over, gasping at the sight. 

“Shit” 

Neteyam curses under his breath seeing his member hard and already leaking  from the dream he had. He had to take care of this, it didn’t seem to go down even after he realized he had a wet dream in the comfort of his own home with his family soundlessly asleep around him.

Just as Neteyam lifts his covers fully to silently get out of bed he hears the tiniest whimper from beside his cot, freezing at the sound he looks around the tent for any movement. His ears twitch and strain to listen to the sound only to be rewarded with a tiny moan. 

He’d recognize that voice anywhere. His cock twitched once he realized what he was hearing. 

“Hmm” Y/n whimpers out, shuffling around on her own cot. The sounds of her fingers working against her slick folds seem to echo through the tent. 

Neteyam felt like he was already a terrible brother from having the dream he was enjoying so greatly. Now he felt horrible listening in on his sister's tiny cries as she pleasures herself. Why did he convince his parents to have their cots right next to each other? 

Neteyam lays back down quietly, trying to ignore the sounds that seem to zone in on him. Her breathless whimpers, the squelching sounds of her juices as she desperately pumps in and out of her puffy cunt for a release. 

Neteyam closes his eyes, his cock straining against his loincloth at her moans. He couldn't calm down now even if he wanted to. Not when she sounded so sensual. 

After coming to the conclusion he couldn't do anything right now without being found out he was awake and hard, Neteyam reaches down to pull his loincloth to the side. He hisses as the cool air hits his hard cock as he wraps his fingers around the girthy shaft.

He spreads precum across the tip and along the length. Neteyam  gently pumps along his member while closing his eyes at the feeling. Y/n’s moans only increase in intensity as she nears her peak, prompting Neteyam to pump his cock faster to cum the same time as her. 

“F-fuck” Y/n whispers out. Neteyam bites back a moan that threatens to escape as he increases his speed. 

That night Neteyam had the best orgasm he had in years, all while fucking himself to the sound of his little sister. Just as she pleasured herself not knowing her brother heard every moan, every whimper. 

~~~~~~~

“Shit! Neteyam!” Y/n runs alongside Kiri as it had been announced that the war party had returned. Y/n caught a glimpse of her injured brother which only prompted her to push her legs faster, coming to stop right in front of him. Her fingers reach out to touch him to which he holds his hand up in protest. 

Neteyam shakes his head as Y/n rolls her eyes, taking his arm into her hand as she examines the wounds and traces of blood. 

“Y/n, Kiri, Will you please help your grandmother with the wounded, please?” Jake asks, briefly turning his attention away from lecturing his sons to his daughters who didn't seem that bothered by his harsh words.

“Our brother is wounded, dad” Kiri speaks up in annoyance, Y/n furrows her eyes on her brother's face who looks to be on the verge of tears.  She seemed to drown out what her father was saying as all she could focus on was her dear brother. 

After Jake tosses a few more words their way Neytiri orders Y/n to patch Neteyam up who agrees immediately, dragging the older male to their family tent. Upon entry they see Mo’at had all the ointment already set up and ready, but she was nowhere to be found. Not wanting to wait any longer Y/n pulls Neteyam to sit down on a mat while she plops down across him 

Neteyam’s ears twitch nervously ,  he glances at his sister who hasn't uttered a single word. His eyes follow her as she gathers to ointment in her fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the paste. Feeling his ears drop at the lack of response, Neteyam clears his throat which causes Y/n to finally look at him. But not with the smile he had been waiting all day for. 

“Is it that hard to follow orders?” Y/n hisses, her ears folded back showing she was actually worried for Neteyam despite her harsh tongue. Neteyam gulps at her words. 

“You know how Lo’ak is, I was try-”

“You didn't try hard enough!” Y/n hisses. Tears began to form along her irises as she tried to hold them back.

 

“You promised me-you promised to be careful! You said you'd be careful for me!” Neteyam couldn’t help but frown. The morning of the raid, when Y/n brought  him in for a tight hug, she made him promise to come back to her unscathed. He did promise. No wonder she is upset. 

“You think I like seeing you like this? You think it pleases me to see someone I-my brother in pain?” Y/n stumbled over her words, her cheeks flushing when she realized she almost slipped up during her emotional rant. The whole time  Neteyam stayed quiet. He deserved this, he should be protecting his sister. Not causing more stress for her like he did now. 

“You have no idea how much you mean to me. How….how much I care” Y/n mumbles in defeat, wiping the stray tears that disobeyed her orders as they ran along her cheeks. Neteyam scoots closer to her, using his finger to lift her chin up to look into his awaiting eyes. 

“I know, I’m a skxawng for making my sister worry. It won't happen again, I'll be extra careful I promise , I swear by Ewya-” Y/n smiles at his words, leaning her forehead against his. Neteyam ignored the stinging pain his wounds provided, relishing the moment when he felt her heat against him. 

“-and I know how much you care. Because I care for you, I know how you feel” Neteyam whispers. 

Y/n’s eyes widen as she stares at Neteyam. Her breath hitched at his words. “Y-you do?” she asks, her breath fanning against him. 

Y/n leans closer to her brother, seeking more of his warmth. Though Neteyam’s eyes widened in slight fear at how close she got, he couldn't help but glance at her pouty lips. As if waiting for something, wanting something to brush up against. 

Just as Neteyam feels himself lean closer, the sound of the tent flaps rustling causes the duo to jump apart from one another. They share a nervous glance as Mo’at walks in, her eyes tracing over them. 

“You have not tended to his wounds yet?” She asks in slight annoyance as Y/n scurries to stand up. She felt her entire face flush at almost being caught at such a compromising position. 

‘I almost kissed him! Kissed Neteyam!’

Y/n doesn’t dare look back at Neteyam as she walks to the entrance. “I-I’m sorry grandmother. I need some f-fresh air” Y/n says before quickly rushing out. 

Mo’at sighs before walking to her grandson in disappointment. The entrance flutters open as Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider and Tuk rush in to be there for Neteyam. 

Neteyam’s shoulders drop, his eyes training on the mat below him. 

‘I fucked up’

~~~~~~

Y/n rushed to the only place she felt calm.

After many years she kept denying her feelings for her brother, always pretending like it didn’t exist even though her feelings only grew over the years. The only place she seemed to have a peace of mind was Vitraya Ramunong (Tree of Souls).

Where she went to express her feelings, pour them out as she surrounded herself with the warmth of her ancestors. Specifically two Na’vi, who always met with her when she connected to it. Two figures she has still yet to know the identity of. 

“Y/n?” A sweet voice calls, Y/n whips around at the sound of the comforting voice. Her eyes welling with tears as the woman walks closer to her, her arms stretched wide as she pulls her in for an embrace. 

“What’s wrong dear? Why are you upset?” The woman asks, her eyes looking down at the smaller girl who weeps freely in her arms. Y/n didn’t know the connection she had with this Na’vi, only that the woman brought her great comfort. And that she was always there when Y/n connected with the spirit tree. As if waiting for her. 

“I-it’s…my feelings. I feel so conflicted. I feel…such a burden and disappointment!” Y/n admits , pulling back from her embrace. The woman smiles softly, pulling Y/n along with her to a large log . There sat a male, an older Na’vi man who smiled warmly at Y/n. 

He pats the spot beside him as Y/n takes a seat. The woman following closely after, 

“What feelings? Is it love?” The woman asks, reaching her hand to gently stroke Y/n’s locks. Y/n feels her shoulders relax, her sobs calming down at the action. 

“I…I love him so much. I just don’t know why? Why can’t I stop? I can’t stop myself from feeling this way…I-I shouldn’t love him!” Y/n whispers. The man beside her chuckles, patting her back, 

“And why not? Love is a beautiful thing, if you’ve loved him for this long, isn’t it worth fighting for?” The man asks, his eyes crinkled as he smiles wide. 

“I can’t, it’s not that simple” 

“Oh? Do tell?” The woman muses, her eyes shining with a knowing look. 

“I-it’s Neteyam…..I love Neteyam” Y/n whimpers. She had previously told the man and woman about her family after she had visited many times before. 

Y/n looked to her lap shame, she waited for the helpful Na’vi’s to wretch at her confession. Her feelings were taboo, wasn't it? But none came, instead the woman giggled bashfully. 

“The best advice I could give you is to trust your feelings, trust your love for Neteyam. Love is sacred, you wouldn’t feel this strongly for him if it didn’t mean anything. Ewya has a way for everything, I’m sure Ewya has plans for you two” the woman says mysteriously.

  

Y/n feels herself smile to herself before turning to both the man and woman. “Thank you….I needed to hear that. I’ve been so confused lately….thank you both” Y/n whispers happily. 

Y/n starts to feel herself slowly drift out of the connection. Realizing she was running out of time she frantically looks between the two. 

“Who are you, why won’t you tell me who you are?” Y/n asks hurriedly. Feeling her connection weaver at a rapid pace.

“When you're ready” the man replies, patting her head just as she disappears. Once again now knowing who they truly were. 

The man and woman look to one another with knowing looks.

 

“Our little girl has grown up so much,” the woman says softly, tearing up. The man pulled her for a tight embrace agreeing with her words.

 

“Yes, she's beautiful Mirèya” 

~~~~~~

Neteyam searched for Y/n the moment his grandmother gave him the green light to leave. Even though his injuries still stung, all he could remember was the brief look of fear he caught in Y/n's expression when they almost kissed. 

He cursed himself for slipping up after many years of control. How could he have been so stupid?

Hearing some hushed voices Neteyam’s hurried steps come to a stop. He leans against the tent noticing his mother and father whispering amongst themselves unaware of him eavesdropping. 

“She has a right to know Neytiri. The girl has been confused her entire life! She wants answers. We can give them to her” Jake says in a hushed tone. Neteyam furrows his eyebrows, wondering who they were talking about. 

“No, it is not time Ma’Jake. This is the will of Ewya. I promised Y/n’s mother I will take care of her and I will. We’ll tell her eventually.” Neytiri says in a stern voice. 

Neteyam's eyes widen once the words reach his ears, losing his balance as he tries to process what he had just heard.

Neteyam stumbles in the sight of his parents who stare at him with shock and fear of being caught. Jake goes to open his mouth but once Neteyam regains the composure he steps closer to them, his gaze set hard. He was never one to stand against his parents, especially his father. But at the moment all proper thoughts flew out the window. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” 

“Neteyam-“ 

“No, what do you mean by Y/n’s mother? Is  Y/n not my sister?!” Neteyam demands, his heart racing a mile per minute. Neytiri looks to Jake, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She turns to her son as she realized she had no choice but tell him the truth, 

~~~~~~~

Neteyam's feet carry him across the forest floor with urgency, his smile stretched across his face wide. After hearing the truth , both Jake and Neytiri gave him permission to tell Y/n. He was ecstatic over the fact she would finally retrieve a piece of her she didn't know she had. And also happy for other reasons. 

It felt like forever since his heart felt so full, so happy. He had learned that Y/n wasn't his sister, she was taken in when her mother passed. That meant everything he felt, everything he dreamt of was possible. It meant he had a chance.

Neteyam runs into the cleaning noting Y/n was  sitting under the Spirit Tree, her arms around her knees as she looks up at the glowing tendrils

“Y/n!”  Y/n jolts at the sudden voice, her head snapping to Neteyam directions while she quickly wipes her tears away, 

“Neteyam! What are you doing here?” She asks as Neteyam walks over to her. His smiles disappears in a instant and he sits down beside her, his eyes tracing over her in case of any injury.

“Why are you crying?” 

Y/n chuckles weakly, wiping her cheeks, “Oh, I haven’t noticed. Sorry,”  she says sheepishly. Neteyam quirks his eyebrow reaching up to swipe his thumb against her puffy cheeks. A part of him jumps in joy watching how her cheeks turned purple under his touch. 

“Why are you apologizing nihona? Are you alright? He whispers. Y/n giggles at the nickname. A nickname she adored as Neteyam had been calling her that for such a long time.

“Why do you call me nihona?” Y/n tries to divert the question, staring at Neteyam with curious eyes. Neteyam smiles softly at the girl, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Because you're the sweetest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on '' Neteyam admits, his truth out on full display. Y/n grins at his words, nuzzling against his hand that rested on her cheek.

 

“Now tell me, why are you upset? You know I hate it when you’re in tears,”  Neteyam pulls her closer to him, causing her to let go of her knees. Neteyam maneuvers her into a comfortable position, also close to having her straddle him. 

Y/n bites her lips at his question. Contemplating her words before glancing back at the glowing tendrils she was connected to not to long ago.

“I just…feel so empty sometimes. Like I’m missing something. It doesn’t help that I have these conflicting thoughts swirling in me, confusing my feelings… ” 

Neteyam quirks an eyebrow at her words. He bit back the smile he had been holding, maybe what she had been missing in the very news he was eager to share at the moment? His hand glided along her arms all the way down her hand. He interlocks their fingers in a comforting gesture. 

“Missing? What conflicted feelings?”

“I can’t explain it…it just makes me realize how lucky I am to have you guys-to have you Neteyam. I guess I realize how important you guys are to me. How important my family is,”

Neteyam nods, pulling her in for an embrace as she straddles his  hip. Her body molding against his. The action had no Ill intentions, just comfort. Neteyam hums, urging her to continue.

 

“I guess what I'm trying to say is if our family gives me meaning…make me feel like I’m fulfilled” Y/n admits deciding to keep her deeper feelings hidden. She finally realized how important her family was to her but also that her love for Neteyam would never die. And that she would live with that. She would have to love him from afar. 

“I see…..Sully’s stuck together Y/n. You’ll always have us, you have nothing to worry about nihona” Neteyam murmurs into her neck. His voice cracking up. He clears his throat to make sure she didn’t hear the pain that seeped through his carefully calculated  words. 

‘I can’t tell her’ 

Seeing how much his family meant to her, seeing how his family kept her from falling apart. Neteyam had to admit he couldn’t tell her about her true lineage. 

For what? His own gain? So he could feel like his feelings had a shot of coming true one day?

 Watching the pain across Y/n’s face, seeing the tears that slipped past her façade. Neteyam came to the grilling conclusion he couldn’t and wouldn't tell her. Not until she was ready. Which only meant he would probably never get the chance to admit his feelings to her. And he was fine with that heartbreaking realization. 

“You’ll always have your brother” 

___________________________________

A/N: I’m not proud of how this turned out. I’m having a dry spell with my work lately. I’m so sorry guys! I’m figuring things out, so hopefully the next part is better. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy!

Taglist:|

@thehoneymushroomhealer @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

[delululand]

you and yeonjun studied at the same university. you met him on the first day and quickly became close, you both had common interests, similar values and you liked to spend time together. you often went to exhibitions, went shopping or just watched TV shows and series together at his house.

he's always been very popular with girls, but in all the 2 years that you've known him, he hasn't dated anyone. yes, of course, he was nice and friendly with everyone, sometimes even flirted (or was it just his way of communicating? actually often his natural manner of communication looked like flirting), but it never ended with something serious. you were very close and told each other about your affairs, but in fact you also didn't have anything serious with someone, there were a couple of guys who asked you out or hinted at sex, but you weren't interested in it, your own life, hobbies, studies and time with friends was much more important

since you studied at the creative majors, you had quite a lot of group projects on staging dances, recording songs and shooting videos for editing practice. you have always chosen each other as a partner in such tasks and this time, having received a big task, you decided to do it together again. you had to come up with a choreography and perform it as a qualifying exam.yeonjun was a very good dancer, so he immediately offered to take on the most difficult choreography and you agreed to meet in the studio in the evening for a final discussion. he often danced with his friends in this studio, so when you got there a little earlier than the appointed time, you found him and his friends still dancing. carefully walking into the hall, you saw taehyun and bomgyu, who were already familiar to you, as well as an unfamiliar guy who was sitting in the corner of the room and watching the guys.

a minute later they finished the dance, yeonjun came up and hugged as a greeting, and the guys said hello and immediately said goodbye, as it was time for them to go. the guy sitting in the corner got up and came up to you, yeonjun said, "y/ni, this is mingi sunbaenim, he helped us with the choreography". the guy smiled sweetly at you and greeted you. since yeonjun had already been dancing for several hours up to this point, he asked for a short break before you start. at this time, mingi continued to communicate with you. he was very friendly and asked a lot about you and your project. you told him that you had to put on another individual dance and mingi offered his help in this. you have seen yeonjun looking slightly annoyed, but probably he's just tired from a few hours of rehearsal before? after answering several messages on the phone, catching his breath and drinking water, yeojun came up to you and said, "khm, I think it's time to start? we need to prepare well today," to which mingi replied, "yes, of course, I won't disturb you, I'm just surprised that you've been hiding such a beauty from me all this time," you laughed and yeonjun saw off mingi to the exit. only you and yeonjun are left. you liked the dance he put on right away and you started rehearsing.

after 3 hours of rehearsal, you finally went outside. it was already 10 pm and yeonjun insisted on walking you home. on the way home, you started asking about mingi, to which yeonjun said "why are you suddenly asking so much about him?", you replied "no, he was just very nice to me and promised to help with the next project", you saw yeonjun's lips pouting and he looked at you with an offended look "can't I help you? why ask someone else?", his pouting face caused you to be touched and a surge of tenderness, so you patted his hair and put your arm around his shoulder and said, "heeeeeeey, what's going on? I just don't want to bother you with my problems, you already help me too much and I really appreciate it, but I don't want to be completely arrogant." his gaze softened, he turned to you and with a soft smile said "hey, you're don't...", he hugged you and kissed the top of your head, after which you continued to go home

a few days later, mingi text you and you began to communicate a lot and it seemed that you were beginning to fall in love. you continued your rehearsals with yeonjun, you saw the face he looks at you every time you mention mingi in front of him, so you tried to talk about him as little as possible.

you went on a few dates with mingi and you were so excited about it, but this feeling of falling in love overshadowed the guilt of not telling him, knowing that it would upset him. you've always been so close and shared everything from childhood traumas to what you ate for breakfast today. you asked him about why he reacts to mingi like that and each time he just replied that mingi is just not the one you need. it makes you overthink. maybe he's really not the one you need? maybe yeonjun knows what you don't know? or maybe yeonjun just has a personal dislike for him? or is he afraid that you will spend less time with him because of this? after all, in fact, he was your only guy friend, of course you had girl friends and other friends, but you weren't friends with any of the guys as close as with him

your dance with yeonjun had already been rehearsed almost perfectly and there was only a week left before the performance, so you decided that you could already start rehearsing your solo dance.mingi, as promised, offered his help, so you agreed to see each other in the studio. due to the fact that you spent more time with mingi, you met with yeonjun mostly only at rehearsals and at university. he called you to different places, but you were busy, so you made up excuses every time hoping that he would not guess the true reason. but he is not a fool and he has long guessed the real reasons for your behavior, maybe he just didn't want to believe?

after meeting mingi in the studio and practice the dance, he walked you home, but on the way he accidentally dropped coffee on a white t-shirt, so you invited him to come in to wash it. you clearly liked each other, sexual tension was building up and at one point you were already sitting on a shelf in the bathroom passionately kissing mingi without a t-shirt. it was a long session of kissing and you heard your phone ringing, but only put it on silent mode. realizing that this is growing into something more, you stopped for a second and you glanced at the phone. there were about 15 missed calls from yeonjun and the phone still kept ringing. it bothered you, why is he calling so much all of a sudden? something happened? mingi stayed to kiss you on the neck, but you asked him to stop and took a breath to answered the call

- hiii, junie, did something happen? is it urgent?

- oh, you finally picked up the phone, no, nothing urgent, I was just near your house and wanted to see you, can you go out for a couple of minutes?

- mhhh so suddenly..... I'm just a little busy right now.....

- it's just a couple of minutes, I won't distract you for too long, I need to tell you something

- okay, wait a second... - you answered with a heavy sigh

after explaining the situation to mingi, you asked him to wait for you here and were about to leave the house. even after several attempts, you still didn't look very good. to put it mildly, your lips were swollen, your makeup was a little smeared and your clothes were crumpled, so you just hoped that it was already night outside and it wouldn't be so noticeable in the semi-darkness.

when you went outside, you saw yeonjun, he was leaning on a lantern, he had a really cute bouquet in his hands and he greeted you with the most tender smile. when he saw you, he took a few steps forward and hugged you tighter than usual. being so close to him, you smelled a plume of alcohol. "hey, what's going on?" you asked, breaking away from his embrace, "I'm so glad to see you, and what are you so busy that you can't see your dear friend?" his words stuttered a little and he giggled, without waiting for your answer, he held out his hand to you with a bouquet in it saying "it's fo....". before he could finish, his face changed and he was looking somewhere behind you. the bouquet fell out of his hand and he looked at you, looking into his eyes you saw the look of a dog who had lost his master, he looked with such pain and disappointment that you were taken aback. turning around, you saw mingi standing on the doorstep of your house without the t-shirt, he looked at you and shouted "baby, is everything okay?". you looked at yeonjun and just wanted to say "yeojun no, that's not what you....", he interrupted you by saying "ah, so that's what this is about.... and how could I be such a fool," without listening to your explanations, he just turned around and left. you tried to stop him to solve this situation, but he just threw off your hands and calmly walked on, not stopping a step.

you came home in a rage, "what the fuck have you done? who asked you to come out?" you shouted, not understanding what to do next, unlike you, mingi was calm, "what's wrong with that? he would have found out about us being together anyway, so what's the problem?", mingi grinned and added, "or are you saying you didn't know about his feelings? everyone around knew about it, I don't believe you're stupid enough not to see the obvious things." feelings? no, you knew he loved you, but was that what you were thinking? he was always caring, brought you food when you didn't have time to eat at home, picked you up from parties if you were drunk, treated you when you got sick, helped you always and everywhere, all these moments flashed through your memory in a second. what was friendly love for you turned out to be not just friendly love at all?

as the days passed, yeonjun stayed to ignore you, he did not answer your calls and messages, and at the university he passed by pretending that you did not exist. mingi calmed you down and said that yeonjun was not worth your worries, and everyone around asked what happened just pressing on the sore spot, and the thought that in a few days you should perform your dance for the exam finally finished you off. he hasn't said a word to you since, you haven't rehearsed the dance anymore and haven't discussed how it will go. however, he did not block you and the day before the exam you received a message “tomorrow at the university at 9am. do not be late. we are the first to perform” you answered “yes, of course, I will” and you hoped that this was a shift for the better, because this is at least something, and after hundreds of your calls and messages, he texts you himself. when you met, he was still cold and without saying a word to you, he danced with you to the highest score, also silently leaving immediately after grading.

the second month of silence has begun. your relationship with mingi was something that somehow made you glad and if not for this whole situation, you could say that you were happy. was happy exactly until I received a message from an unknown number. you knew that before you, mingi had a girlfriend with whom he dated for a long time and they broke up because she had to move to another country, but you didn't know that she returned about two weeks ago. in a message from an unknown number, there were photos of mingi and his ex spooning sweetly in a cafe, he kissed her hand and the message claimed that they were seeing each other for more than the first time. when you found out about it, you were so disappointed that all the emotions that had accumulated during all this time poured out a stream of anger at mingi. he said he could explain it all and he was sorry that it happened, but you were not able to listen to it all, so after blocking him everywhere, you called your friend, found your most cheese outfit and you went to the club.

it was Saturday night and the club was full of people. it was smoky around and loud music was playing, you drank shots one by one and after 10 you already lost count. the alcohol in your blood was making itself felt, and the smell of weed around only made the situation worse. slightly stumbling, you were walking through a crowd of people and bumped into some guy. looking up, you saw that it was yeonejun. after looking at you contemptuously, he was going to just pass by as he had been doing for the last month, but when you saw him that evening, you couldn't stand it. because of the loud music, you couldn't hear anything, so you grabbed his hand tightly and dragged him to the exit to the backyard.

“what the fuck are you doing!?” he was screaming and trying to take your hand off his forearm. finally going out into the fresh air, you let go of his hand, turned around and shouted “what the fuck AM I doing? no fuck i should ask you about this! do you seriously think that after a few years of our friendship, it's okay to just cut me out of your life like this? without explaining absolutely anything and without giving me the opportunity to even just talk to you” his eyes widened with anger, he came close to you, pressing you against the wall “explain WHAT? THAT I like fucking idiot love you almost from our first meeting? THAT all this time I could only dream about you? THAT I'm a fucking coward who didn't have the courage to tell you because I was afraid that you would stop communicating with me at all? THAT the day I finally decided to do it, I see you with mingi coming out of your house half naked? WHAT did I feel at that moment as my heart was being torn into thousands of pieces? THAT all this time I wished I could have confessed earlier? THAT missed my chance? WHAT THE FUCK OF THIS WAS I SUPPOSED TO EXPLAIN?”.

you were taken aback by his words, his face was literally pressed against yours and you felt his heavy breathing on your lips.you tried to say “junie... I'm not...” at the same moment, your lips merged in a passionate kiss, his hands pressed you closer by the waist, and yours pressed him even closer to you. unable to restrain yourself any longer, you hurriedly called a taxi and drove home to yeonjun. everything was familiar to you in this house and knocking down some of the objects on your way passionately kissing you went straight to the bedroom. carelessly falling on the bed, yeonjun leaned on you with all his weight, unbuttoning the zipper of your dress and kissing your neck and collarbones, leaving purple hickeys. throwing off your dresses, he began to suck and kiss your boobs, touching and sucking your nipples. leaving a wet trail of kisses on your stomach, he goes down and bites the inside of your thighs. he takes off your lace panties, bending painfully slowly, eyes shining in the lit light, making contact with yours and cares your folds with his tongue.

your body trembles under him when he eats you, his mouth feels everywhere, licks and sucks you where you want it most, as if he was born to give you pleasure. your moans echo around the room, sucking the clit feels unreal, with each immersion of his tongue in your hole, you whine and squirm until you reach your limit. your fingers tingle and twitch in his hair, warning of the approach of the culmination, but he does not stop, only works harder with his tongue. inserting your fingers inside, you feel overstimulation and cum. giving you a chance to catch your breath, yeonjun pulls back to take off his pants, seeing how hard he is, you stretch out your hand and smear the precum on his tip. “jun…i need you so bad”. he puts his palm to your cheek and gently kisses your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. making eye contact, you feel him put in you with a low moan coming from his throat. feelings from smeared kisses, stretching and slow but confident movements feel mind-blowing. your hands are squeezing his hair with all their strength when yeonjun starts to pick up speed, his eyebrows are frowning, heavy sighs and moans come out of his throat, and his hands are squeezing your waist and hips, pressing you as close as possible. he opens his eyes when you pull his hair sharply and almost cums at the sight of your face frozen with pleasure. you hold him to you and frantically whisper his name. the sensations get stronger every second and you cum for the second time in a night, your walls start to shrink around him, this puts him over the edge. you feel the warmth of his sperm spreading inside you, he kisses you on the corner of his lips, whispering “I love you” and lies down on your chest, trying to catch his breath, still staying inside you. your nails draw circles on his back and after a pause you say into the air, “I think I love you too...”

[ganondoodle]

i kinda want to read books again, i havent read any in .. more years than i know to remember but idk how to find anything i like, especially these days (i dont read fanfiction either .. , i tried a few times but it never really caught me q-q)

even when i was young i was somewhat picky (though there are plenty books im sure i finished but just .. dont remember) the last series i think i read was skullduggery pleasant (as i said, its been many years) but dropped it after it got a little 'weird' (in like .. i guess the shonen powerscaling problem, at least thats how it felt back then) and the annoying love interest boy that was seemingly only introduced so protag girl could do what normal girls do tm (i know theres many more books in the series so idk if hes actually more than that but eugh)

funnily enough i only seem to remember the books i loved so much i kept rereading them (the bartimäus trio, though i loved the forth prequel more than the others .. still sad i lost my copy of it in school) or the ones i stopped reading bc something completely threw me out of it-

there was one i literally only remember it was a protagonist (teen?) girl (is that a general common thing for the fantasy genre?) and she was travelling via a ship in that scene, idk if it was a flying one but something was different magical tm i think; and left it or ran away or so and sought shelter from the rain at some point and annoying boy caught up to her and they uuh .. started making out of nowhere?? (im sorry i literally only remember i felt rly uncomfortable and awkward, didnt like the boy, thought they had zero chemistry/felt forced AND i did NOT see it coming, like at all, maybe its my aro/ace/autism .. ness (that i wasnt aware of except being def different for most of my life, haha fun.) but i rememebr feeling like i got flashbanged by what i read, the only actual sentence i (think i) remember was "she felt the weight of his hips shifting onto hers" bc it weirded me out so much and i might just have stopped reading it at that point and never looked back lmao)

another one was one with a setting of having dragons and they were used like horses, also feathered! (though the cover picture, i think, was a big dragon eye surrounded by scales, pretty sure it annoyed me constantly but i might missremember, again its been so long and i went through things my brain wishes it could unlive) and the protagonist worked at a stable or soemthing (also girl? idk), last thing i remember was that all dragons started to go mad and kill themselves .. idk if i read any further

(honorable mention to uuh .. dämonenzeit (demon time), was a demon protagonist and it was a little brutal for my taste but when do you get a demon as the main guy, apparently there were two entries and i only read the first one, also lost that copy- Xarors (an OC of mine) first designs were based on the cover of that book and the thing the band 'disturbed' tended to use (the hooded guy with red glowing eyes) i was very original)

maybe all those were super well known ones and i just never knew (grew up without/extremely limited internet and tech in general after all.... the only one i knew was popular and also read all of it and had all parts .. was a certain bad wizard series that should not still be so popular *watches in horror as my niece gets into it and wants nothing but merch for it*) or really bad peepoo baby books, im possibly confusing or mixing some things bc i read quite a few ones with dragons and similar themes, but thats just what i remember/remember feeling like

(maybe i should see if i still have them somewhere and see how much is true of any of this .... though a part of me also doesnt want to)

[observeowl]

Unwanted Marriage | Chapter 3 - A taste of what can happen

Series Masterlist

The next morning, your team leader held a meeting with you and Wanda as you received your first assignment at work. Part of the work at Stark News is to interview popular celebrities and your task was to interview the new star idol, Sherry.

"I will let you guys handle this interview. Hope you'll do a good job." Your team leader said before leaving. You were excited to start your first assignment as you reached your desk, but Wanda warned you not to be too excited as she heard that she could be very troublesome. "Isn't she an adorable young lady?"

"You're so naive! You really think that people in the entertainment industry are all what they look like?"

Having arranged for a meeting with her agent, you waited for her at the confirmed location. However, after an hour and the next, there was no sight of her. "Isn't she too cocky?! She actually let us wait for so long." Wanda complained as she was onto her second cup of coffee.

Right then, the door chimed sang and attracted your head towards the door. Finally Sherry arrived wearing her wide hat and sunglasses. "I only have 15 minutes. You should quickly as now, I have no time to spend with you two." She said rudely and refuses to take off her sunglasses.

"Then, let's begin!" Wanda said after making eye contact with you. "Why didn't you give me water? I am very thirsty! Where is my water?" She demanded. Thankfully the cafe wasn't populated to see this scene. You quickly went to order her a lemonade after asking what she preferred.

"Excuse me..." Wanda was about to start when she interrupted. "Okay, time's up. I still have other appointment to go to!" She stood up and got ready to collect her bag. "Wait, Miss Sherry." You tried to hold her back. "It wouldn't be good if word of your behaviour spreads out, isn't it?"

"Who do you think you are? Do you think people will believe what you say?" She raised her hand and gave you a tight slap that you were surprised you didn't fall. "Why are you hitting her? Y/N, are you okay?" Wanda stepped closer to make sure you were fine. "I advise you not to write anything bad, or else you'll suffer." She smirked. "I am not Maggie. You want to fight with me? You are far from capable."

"What? What does this have to do with her?" Your cheeks were still pulsing from the pain when you asked. "Becasue Maggie, is my sister!" She revealed. "You guys wait and receive my lawyer's letter! You already disturbed my timetable and work. You'd better think about how to compensate me!"

"Y/N... do you know each other? Who is Maggie?" Wanda asked as both of you could only watch Sherry leave. "I guess so, I have some encounter with her sister."

"What about the interview? Do we really need to compensate her?"

"Don't worry about it."

===

When you reached home, you checked around to make sure that no one was around as you quickly looked for some ice for your face.

"Y/N, you're back." You heard Brooke coming from behind hurried packing the ice. "Mmn, I just got back, I need to settle some stuff upstairs." You gave a random comment to get her off your back.

You looked at your reflection once you're upstairs. "This little star is so rough, I've already got a bruise." You touched the tender part of your bruise before pulling away, wincing. Never have you gotten an injury from a second party.

"Y/N." You heard Natasha's voice out the door and dove into your bed to hide. "I'm tired! I want to have some rest, you just go out!" In fact, Natasha knew something was wrong with you as Brook told her that you rush upstairs with red cheeks and thought you were sick. Not caring what you said, she pulled the cover away. "My cover! Return it to me!" You reached out for the cover and she took this opportunity to make sure you stay close enough for her to inspect.

You pulled away. "I accidentally knocked into a door, nothing serious. It will recover tomorrow." She stared at you before wheeling herself away. "I will check it out if you don't tell me the truth."

"Don't! I, I can handle it myself. I will give you an answer later."

"Okay."

===

The next day, you rushed to the office as your team leader screamed at you through the phone.

"What are you young people thinking! What do you treat your work as?" Your team leader said in the presence of Sherry and her lawyer in the meeting room. "Yesteday, I asked you to make an interview. What happened?"

"Even if you guys are newcomers, and don't know the rules yet, how come you let Miss Sherry wait for you for so long?" You were presented with a compensation agreement and flipped through them. "You even questioned her private life, that's taing it too far!"

"Miss Millicent, she's lying! Actually it's us who waited for her for more than an hour, she also-." Wanda spoke up. "How can this lady take nonsense." Her lawyer started defending Sherry. "You can't slander Miss Sherry."

"I... I cannot believe you guys will say this about me. Yesterday, I was still contemplating on letting this matter go, but now, I don't see the point anymore." She sure know how to act, putting on fake tears for the show. "Miss Sherry, your acting is so amazing, why not consider being an actress instead?"

"What nonsense are you talking about! Apologise immediately!" Miss Millicent couldn't believe you were trying to add oil to the fire. "Why do I have to apologise to someone who framed us? Team leader, here is the record about what had happened yesterday." You placed the recorder on the table. "You will know who is at fault after listening to it."

Sherry instantly reached out for it but you weren't afraid. "It's okay if you destroy it. I've already made back up copy of this recording."

By now, everyone was looking at her, disappointed. "Sherry.. What should I say now..." Even her lawyer have given up on her.

"Miss Sherry, even though our company isn't that big, you shouldn't humiliate and threaten people." Her lawyer was trying to extinguish the fire when she shouted at you to watch out and left.

"Y/N, Wanda. I'm so sorry that I misunderstood both of you."

"That's okay, so do we publish the interview?"

"Why not? This is great news! Both of you had done a great job." Millicent has a sinister look on her face, like she won a huge catch.

By the next day, the news was on all major headlines. And you were kinda worried that you have pissed Stephanie off again.

"Nat, the rest of the monitoring results have been sent to your email. And Sherry is Maggie's sister." Clint reported as she was working. That's why she didn't want me to interfere, Natasha thought. "Ask all companies under Romanoff Corporation to terminate all cooperation with Sherry, and pressure those companies that are in business with us. Otherwise, don't let her know."

"Got it."

===

"It's nothing but a small news, why all the cooperate have been cancelled? It's impossible." Sherry complained as she continues to receive numerous emails about the termination of contract with her.

"Sherry, what happened?" Maggie called to ask her after reading the news. "Sister, I only wanted to teach Y/N a lesson for you."

"Who did you say? Y/N Y/L/N? Sherry, you must be crazy to do that to her! This is your end!"

As if to make a final nail in the coffin, she received another message that the company has decided to forgo her.

Series Masterlist

@natsxwife @franfineashell @dvrkhcld @reginassweetheart

[becauseitsyouandi]

my personal jalex fic recs because fawk, jalex maaaaan

Because you can never get enough jalex <3

♡ 𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤 ♡

OTP by Save vs. Magic ✿ Season 3 ✿ COMPLETE ❀ 'With 'Charmed and Dangerous' set to become a movie, Alex is shocked to discover the books based on her life are wildly popular. Even more shocking is what some fans are reading between the lines. And most disturbing of all? Justin might be one!' ✿ OMG. I love meta and I love Jalex, but more importantly I love realistically written Jalex where they don't want to jump each others bones as soon as the fic starts, so this is my #1 recommendation in a multi-chaptered fic if you think to yourself, wait, how in the F do they even start to realize they like-like (lol) each other anyways? Soo well-written, Save vs. Magic is a stellar author who has wrote plenty of gems for the jalex comm <3 After you read OTP, I recommend reading the Easter special for OTP A Handshake With God. So funny and a cute taste of Jalex's after.

Reflection by TheWolfHourx, TwistedWizards ✿ Post Season-4 ✿ IN PROGRESS ❀ Woooo boy, what to say about this one--- it's sexy, incredible sexy. Risque and full of tension, Alex is stuck in the You-niverse with daaark, eeeeevil Justin, who wants to make her his. She is living my dream! It is unfinished, and I want to give a disclaimer that it ends before they do the deed, so if you're okay with mild blue-balling, this is an awesome read that's not juuust smutty goodness yum, but has well written Jalex that makes you root for our main couple (and sexy evil Justin is there, did I mention sexy evil Justin?)

'More Transparent Than Water And Thicker Than Blood' Series by pandorium ✿ Season 3 to Post-Series ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Ooooooof. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster ride, my heart! Sweetness, and heartbreak, and then sweetness. A series of one shots span from post-movie codependency to Jalex as adults. Don't worry-- a happily ever after awaits with this one, even if the journey to get there for our two siblings is a bit long.

Something like Forever by someryn ✿ Post-Movie ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Two-part series that has Justin's POV Leave The Ashes, it's a look at how Justin and Alex cope, well fail to cope with the traumatic events of the movie. Alex struggles to communicate her emotions in Alex fashion, Justin is her steadfast brother who looks at her for just a bit too long, and there is sweetness and the perfect amount of spice added in (just a pinch). Delicious Jalex awaits with this fic <3

Truth Spell by saveyou ✿ Post-Movie ✿ IN PROGRESS ✿ This is an AU where Justin runs away from home post-movie--and only Alex knows why. It's an interesting set up, but last update was in 2010 and it ends off sorely unfinished. But it is a nice read and I enjoy how Alex and Justin are written.

˚ʚ ♡ 𝕠𝕟𝕖-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 ♡ ɞ˚

Holding Back the Night by Nerissa ✿ Post-Movie ✿ More like hold back my tears when mentioning this fic! This is my #1 Jalex fic recommendation-- it holds such a special place because it fueled my Jalex obsession to unstoppable levels. The ultimate codependency trope fic for Jalex in my opinion. The conversations in this fic are so so cute, tender and emotional. This is the hot-chocolate-your-grandma-gives-you of a Jalex fic. Lemme re-read this fic now <3

so what if you catch me, where would we land by ladytahiri ✿ Child to Adult Jalex ✿ 'Justin and Alex's lives unfold like a butterfly in reverse' ✿ Starts off on an amazing hook with Theresa catching Justin and Alex in a compromising position, and traces back through the blossoming of Justin/Alex's relationship, to when they were just children. Mwah mwah a billion chef kisses!

reach out and touch someone by omens ✿ Season 4 ✿ “Careful, Justin; that almost sounds like ‘what are you wearing territory?’ there.” ✿ AKA Justin and Alex are horny teenagers, Justin is away at college, and late-night husky phone convos ensue. Sign me tf up!

Hands That Touch The Wrong Things by TheWolfHourx ✿ Season 3 ✿ 'This obsession. This painting. Something about this screams at her louder than all her other paintings. Something inside her rips and roars and howls.' ✿ Angst and pain in Alex's POV as she grapples with her feelings post-Puerto Rico. She uses painting as an outlet for her desires she can't express.

Louder than sirens by popsongnation ✿ Post-Movie ✿ 'The feeling stays with her as time goes on, the need to touch him as often as possible. She knows he feels it too.' ✿ Uuuugh author why must you slay me! Codependency trope done so so well it hurts! Secret handholding and rapidly tangled feelings, my heart squeezes in pain for our two sweethearts.

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2024 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest *CLOSED*

Happy Rockman Day! Time for this year's Megaman Summer Fanart Contest rules thread! Two categories, in which you are allowed to submit one entry for each category, if you would like. If you place in one category, you will be automatically disqualified from the other, for reasons of fairness, and to give other people a chance to win a prize. CATEGORY 1 (Talent): Pallette Pastiche

Ms. Museum Curator is back, looking for new pieces of art to display in the Kattleox Art Museum! A couple years ago for Valentine's Day, she needed your creations to display for an exhibit that featured a little bit of red and showed a little bit of love. This summer, her new exhibit is all about pastiche on your palette. What is pastiche? It's an artsy term that essentially means to imitate another work/artist/period. Or to just simplify it, we're talking a parody. So, for this theme, I would like you to parody any work of art, be it a famous painting, sculpture, etc.,…or maybe a piece that isn't as popular…only with Megaman characters involved in it.

As a visual example, way back in the CapcomUnity days, for Mega Man 10's release, there were fanart contests for each new Robot Master. When Solar Man came up, I decided to do an homage of this cognac poster art by Leonetto Cappiello:

Your possibilities are endless, depending on how ambitious you want to be! Alien Dr. Wily in Munch's 'The Scream,' Botticelli's 'Birth of Shield Sheldon,' Higsby carving the 'Venus de Mariko,' Da Vinci's 'Mona Laika,' or even 'The Last Cross Fusion Supper,' featuring the immortal Barrel and his 12 CF disciples. Just to throw out a few ideas. Content Requirements: * Megaman character(s) of your choice in a parody of a real art piece * please also send me a pic of the actual art piece with your entry, just so we can all see what you were referencing CATEGORY 2 (Humor): Pirates of the Alohahabean

Y'arr, ahoy me hearties! As voted by you on Twitter, the humor theme this year will be pirate-themed. Pirates have plenty of rep in the franchise, from Classic's Pirate Man, Marty and her band of pirates in Iwamoto's X manga, the Bonne family sky pirates, unused Tribe forms in Star Force, or, well…Ashe huntin' for booty.

For this theme, you can take any of those aforementioned pirate-y characters, or use any others of your choosing dressed up or acting like pirates, in the hunt for treasure. It could be a chest full of zenny, jewels, The Mother Lode, or whatever other booty you can imagine. The only problem is, this pirate treasure hunt is disturbing other characters who are just trying to enjoy a summer day on the beachy sands or the high seas. Your job is to draw the most hilarious scene in which this quest for a glorious bounty goes awry. Savvy?

Content Requirements: * Mega Man character(s) of your choice who are pirates or dressed/act as pirates hunting for treasure * A comical scene where these pirates interrupt a nice day on the beach/in the water for other characters PRIZES: The winners for each category will receive the following: 1st Place: $175 USD 2nd Place: $100 USD 3rd Place: $75 USD SUBMISSION GUIDELINES: When you submit, I would prefer you to include the following information in this format, along with your entry: • (Your name/preferred alias) – As much as I usually know who you are, there’s always someone new or somebody who has a different preference from what their email name says. • (Category this entry is for) – You can either say 1/2, or talent/humor Only submit your own work, as usual. Any character, major or minor, from any series is allowed. OCs are allowed, as long as your art contains at least one canon Megaman character. As always, participants are allowed to submit from all over the world. Paypal is still the preferred method for cash prize payouts. Please have a valid account to receive your winnings. Kids, get your parents permission before entering. Entries do not need to be colored, but it is preferred. The more effort put into things as always, the better chance you have! Entries can either be e-mailed to me at rock2125[at]hotmail[dot]com, or you can just PM/note me a link to your pic. DO NOT post your pics in this journal, your dA galleries, Twitter, tumblr blogs, other sites, etc. until the contest is over. This is the fairest way for competitive reasons. I prefer to keep them all secret until the deadline has passed. I'll edit a confirmed entry list in this thread when I receive them. So you won't be in the dark about whether or not I've received your entry. DEADLINE: The deadline for this contest will be Sunday, August 25th, 2024 by 11:59PM, global end of day. This gives you over 2 months to finish your entry! MISCELLANEOUS INFO: As usual, If you don't plan to enter, but would like to help me judge, please let me know through DM or mention so here. Never hurts to have extra opinions on all the entries. Bug me with questions if you have any. Please join in, and good luck to everyone who enters! Confirmed Entries: Cat 1. - @aw-colorcat, @digitallyfanged, JazzmanZ, Ryan Vogler, @dwn-059, @puyonlilah, Ivo, @purplerubyred, @nightopianfoxgirl, Tori Campan, ArtisIan, @sylviidaee, Cat. 2 - @pstart, @dwn-059, Kamicciolo, @duskblogsthings, AbilityField, ArtisIan, @megagundamman, V-Campan,

[olderthannetfic]

A vent: I know I've seen exaggerated responses to bad things happening in a story like "If ____ happens, we riot!" and joking threats but it bugs me how death threats to the author seem to have become the go-to response of fans these days. Something terrible happens to a character in a series' latest chapter/episode? Every other posts in the tags is either "I swear (author), when I get my hands on you!" to a variety of harm and death threats (some get a bit more detailed, too). There's so many of them.

I know some are jokes but some I really can't tell especially nowadays when fandoms have become more toxic and harassing others in real life if they're deemed "problematic" is a thing that has happened. A recent chapter of a popular manga even had one fan post images of the author's address (the city he's living in), photo of a plane ticket to that country, and a photo of a gun which I found disturbing.

--

[rubylace]

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸M A N A G I N G E N H Y P E N

genre! idol, togetherness, silence of life, angst, comfort

pairing! ot7 x head manager reader

synopsis! you're the manager of a popular group who entrusted to you, you think your worry is just looking for their busy schedule for every months but it's more than that

(+bonus lastpics)

-masterlist-

last words?

After years of hard work, your journey with them was coming to an end. The boys had just finished a series of successful concerts, their music resonating with fans all over the world. But amidst the joy and celebration, a cloud of melancholy hung over you.

"Manager, you've been quiet," Sunghoon noticed, his eyes filled with concern. You forced a smile, "Just tired, Sunghoon. It's been a long week."

The final day was a whirlwind of emotions. You watched as they prepared for their last performance with you, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As the concert ended, the boys gathered around you, their faces flushed from the performance. "We did it, Manager," Jay said, his eyes shining with pride.

You nodded, struggling to keep your emotions in check. "You did. I'm so proud of you all."

The ride back to the dorm was filled with laughter and stories, but you remained silent, lost in your thoughts. As you reached the dorm, you finally broke the news, "This was my last day with you guys."

Silence filled the room. "What do you mean?" Jake asked, his voice barely a whisper. You explained your decision, your voice choked with emotion. Their reactions varied from shock to disbelief to sadness.

As you said your final goodbyes, the boys thanked you for everything. "We wouldn't be here without you," Heeseung said, his voice filled with gratitude.

"You're still our manager wherever you are." Jungwon said which made your heart break.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but look back at the seven boys who had become like family. You were leaving a part of your heart with ENHYPEN, but you also knew they were ready to conquer the world on their own.

The following day was eerily quiet. The dorm, once filled with the boys' laughter and music, felt empty. You woke up early, as usual, but instead of the usual routine of preparing schedules and managing the boys, you found yourself packing your belongings.

The boys were still asleep, exhausted from yesterday's concert. You quietly moved around, not wanting to disturb them. As you were about to leave, you heard a voice,

"Manager, where are you going?" It was Sunoo, his eyes still half-closed from sleep.

"I have to go, Sunoo," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening. He rushed to wake the others.

They all gathered in the living room, their eyes filled with sleep and confusion. "You can't leave," Riki protested, "We need you."

You smiled, touched by their words. "You don't need me anymore, Riki. You guys are ready to fly on your own."

Tears welled up in their eyes as they hugged you, their words of thanks and promises to stay in touch echoing in your ears. As you stepped out of the dorm, you took one last look at them, their faces etched in your memory.

You knew you would miss them, but you also knew that they were destined for greatness. As you walked away, you felt a sense of pride. You had played a part in their life, and now it was time for them to write their own story.

A week had passed since you left Enhypen. The boys were adjusting to life without you, but your absence was deeply felt. They found themselves reaching out to call you, only to remember that you were no longer their manager.

Meanwhile, you were settling into your new life. It was strange not having to constantly check on the boys, but you knew they were in good hands. Despite the distance, you kept tabs on them, watching their performances and interviews with a sense of pride.

One day, you received a call from the boys. "Manager, we miss you," Sunghoon's voice echoed through the phone. You could hear the rest of the boys in the background, their voices filled with longing.

"I miss you too, boys," you replied, your voice choked with emotion. "But I know you guys are doing well. I've been watching you."

The call ended with promises to meet soon. As you hung up, you felt a pang of nostalgia. But it was also mixed with a sense of satisfaction. You had done your part, and now it was time for ENHYPEN to shine.

In the coming months, they soared to new heights. They won awards, topped charts, and gained more fans. And through it all, you watched from the sidelines, your heart filled with pride.

Your journey with them had ended, but the memories and the bond you shared with them would last a lifetime. They were no longer your responsibility, but they would always be your boys.

After walking around you decided to go to the library to calm your mind, it was strange because usually at this time you were looking for them to practice and scolding them.

Just as you found a comfortable seat you heard their music playing in the library, it was 'Polaroid Love' you can't help but stare wistfully, they've grown.

Flashback on 2022 :

"What song is this time? I hope it's not a difficult choreo, my legs feel like they're going to break." Jake protested.

Jungwon provided information as the leader, "the manager said this was an ambient song of course there is no choreography."

"Don't expect much, usually there is." Jay is very realistic.

"Don't be fooled by the title, Polaroid Love? Obviously there must be female dancers." Heeseung doesn't want to lose.

While they were arguing about the song, you walked into their recording room. "You guys are idols, how could you make a fuss about something like this."

When you said, no one moved.

- End of Flashback -

You smiled as you remembered the moments with them.

You couldn't help but see them, you went into the building to see them again. Your presence makes them surprised and excited.

Sunoo ran over to hug you tightly and you stroked his hair like your own little brother.

The other six just smiled cheerfully.

You guys share a lot about how their day is without you, and conversely how your day is without them. They give you some gifts and polaroids of your photos with them.

The moment you got to your real apartment you laid down on the couch and grabbed your phone, but a bunch of letters were there too.

"Huh? What's this?" thats memopads from them to you who has taught them many things. They secretly put it in your bag.

You didn't think that boys could be so sweet.

Even it looks funny and you almost laugh especially silly part of some of them. But it's a small gift that is meaningful to you.

[blimbosworlddd]

Nirvana: A Rock Lee Tale (Chapter 7)

Summary: After an abysmal day at work, you find solace in the dojo- only to be greeted by a charming stranger. Shikamaru has one last chance to fix his marriage. Will he finally lock in?

Notes: slow burn fic, afab/fem/black reader.

Warnings: cursing, light portrayal of suicidal ideation, depression, anxiety, angst, explicit sexual content, dry humping, petnames.

Word count: 5k

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Throughout the following weeks you go on a few more dates with Lee: to the movies, an art museum, and even a local manga store! You both share a love for shounen and shoujo. Outside such popular mediums, he introduced you to his favorite seinen series while you familiarized him with your favorite josei. You’re both hardcore suckers for romance, the only difference being that you’re the hopeless one and Lee is hopeful.

Deep down, you know Lee can’t be the answer to all of your problems and he shouldn’t. But how can you remember that when he always opens the doors for you and buys you orchids; when he carries you bridal style so you won’t have to climb the stairs; when he stares lovingly into your soul every time you speak to him?

And it’s not like you care too much to remember, considering that you’re busy enough gushing over your new flowers at the dojo. Not many patients visited your office today, but that’s common. You decide to use it to your advantage and relax for the remainder of your stay.

You no longer let the commotion on the other side of the room disturb you: as a matter of fact, you enjoy hearing Lee’s powerful voice echo through the walls. It reminds you that he’s real, that he’s here.

Being at the dojo is a complete 180 from the nauseating day you had at work: Ms. Fink had a tantrum that was provocative at best, you missed your break, and a long-time patient went comatose under your care. You have to constantly remind yourself that people’s failing health is never your fault, because if you don’t then you would’ve killed yourself a long time ago. So as soon as you made it to the dojo you rushed straight to your office and didn’t look back.

Which probably explains the sinking, vacuous sensation in your chest you call shame. Slouching against your chair with a frown, your eyebrows softly scrunch together in distress. You throw your head back, staring up at the dull, lifeless rays of fluorescent lights.

Why does it always hafta be like this? Why can’t I just take my own advice?

Your advice being to take responsibility for your own happiness, and yet happiness doesn’t even look like an option at your disposal right now. It’s so confusing. The way it comes and goes. But before you fall deeper into the rabbit hole of your depression, a couple of knocks on the door snap you back to the present.

Lee?

“Come in!” You chirp eagerly.

As the knob turns, you immediately shove your worries to the back of your head and straighten your posture. In your mind your arms are open, beyond ready to receive whatever priceless affection Lee has in store for you.

The person who enters is not only not Lee, but it’s a man you do not recognize.

The first thing you notice is his long, black, spiky tresses. A voluminous mane that covers his right eye while framing his sharp jawline beautifully. A black turtleneck shirt contours his broad shoulders, his sleeves rolled up to the very top of his toned and veiny forearms. A coffee colored pantsuit drapes impeccably around his sturdy legs, and what seals the deal is a matching leather boot. This man looks comfortable and powerful all at once.

When you finally meet his gaze, so potent with intent, the words you try to say eviscerate in your throat. The man’s lips curl in a subtle smirk at your stunned expression.

“My apologies for intruding,” the brooding timbre of his smooth voice urges you to shoot up from your seat. “You can call me Madara.”

Madara closes the gap with long strides and extends his arm for a shake. He’s got to be at least 6 feet tall. You accept his well-mannered demeanor with a weak smile. His grip is not firm, but for some odd reason you believe he could crush your hand.

“I’m Y/n. What brings you to my office if I may ask?”

“Let’s just say I’m an old friend of the former owner of this dojo.”

Former owner?

Madara reads the confusion on your face and clarifies.

“Rock Lee’s master, Might Guy. The notorious taijutsu veteran.”

Ah. Now that you think of it, Lee does talk about his master from time to time. He always speaks highly of him. But who is this man to Might Guy in particular?

“I see now!” You nod fervently, not really knowing what to do with yourself at the moment.

Madara turns his back to scan the room, taking in the practical minimalism of your space. He strolls by the tiny nurse bed, hanging portraits of you and the dojo family, neatly placed medical supplies. And how could he fail to notice the boisterous bouquet of white orchids sitting on the corner of your desk?

“Usually when a miracle happens, people tend to make a spectacle of it. And if big enough, that spectacle creates buzz.”

You remain silent, slowly sitting back in your chair to process his point.

“How long have you been nursing here?” He pries.

“…No less than a few months.”

Madara hums amusingly, “Been here for that long and he still hasn’t paid you?”

You blink a few times with a concerned glare. “I volunteered to help. And how do you know about that?”

The man before you turns once again to meet your gaze. “Buzz, remember?”

More questions are bubbling up faster than you can process his answer. Where exactly is this man getting my personal information? Does he have connections inside the dojo? Am I in-

“My apologies,” the man grabs the chair in front of your desk and takes a seat. “I didn’t mean to frighten you so I’ll be more transparent.”

Polite as he is, the way his left eye effortlessly pierces through you while casually folding his legs has your knee jutting rapidly. He just looks so unbothered.

“I’ve seen the fruits of your medical treatment, we all have. Any establishment would be lucky to have you, so why waste your services where they aren’t being compensated?”

You feel your right eye twitch, completely dismayed by the fact that no one has ever asked you a question like this before. So why is he, of all people, the first person to do it? Nursing is no doubt a stable and lucrative profession. Nursing allowed you to permanently move out of your parents’ house. It got you your own home, your own comfortable lifestyle, your own future, your own joy. But does that mean you should continue overextending yourself at work and the dojo? Does that mean you should hold onto what no longer serves you simply because it always used to? Your palms begin perspiring at the thought.

“And what do you, of all people, suggest I do about that?”

Madara leans against his seat. “Simple: work for me instead.”

You snigger ruefully, mentally preparing yourself to escort this man out of your office.

“I’ll pay you double what Lee’s students pay monthly to stay in his classes. You choose the hours and work on your own terms. As long as you treat my men.”

An enticed chuckle escapes Madara’s lips at your bewildered stare, wasting no time to reach for his front pocket. He pulls out a card and slides it on your desk.

“Call me when this place starts getting old, yeah?”

Your office door wrenches open, and the sight before you disperses all the air you didn’t know you kept in your lungs–

Eyes.

Big, mesmeric, violent eyes are the first thing you notice.

Madara takes his time when he ascends from his seat, turning to face the taijutsu master himself.

Lee’s eerily silent when he meets Madara’s gaze. His eyebrows furrow in focus while staring menacingly at the spiky-haired man. Seeing you hurriedly storm off into your office earlier without acknowledging anyone was worrying enough. But to watch Madara follow you not long after when he knows he’s only supposed to observe student training will never sit right with him. Lee’s gaze diverts to the white card on your desk. And when he finally looks at you- sweet, radiant you- with that startled expression on your face, he feels his iron grip on the door knob loosen.

“Oh, Lee, we were just talking about you!” A delighted grin adorns Madara’s features as he rests his hands in his pockets. He strolls towards the door and stops where Lee stands.

“I’d say your pupils are more than ready for the upcoming tournament.”

Lee doesn’t reply, and instead side-eyes him with silent repulsion. Madara’s boots tap the pavement with every step he takes as he makes his way to the exit.

After your sensei shuts the door behind him, he turns to face you once more. God he looks exquisite: Lee’s gi is looser around his chest, so you can see a peek of his glistening pectorals. You love how they rise and fall as he tries to control his breath. If you didn’t know how weak he is for you, you’d find the nearest window to jump out of considering how malignant he looks when he’s upset. Either way you’re always happy to see him, no matter what emotional state he’s in.

“H-Hey!”

“What did he say to you?”

Something in his tone urges you to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “He offered me a job at his dojo. Umm, is there something I should know?”

The master’s stomach muscles tighten as his face falls with disillusion. Of fucking course, he thinks. Lee sighs before taking a seat to level with you.

“Madara and my sensei were fierce rivals. They often sparred together back in their prime days. After the Great War, they both decided to compete in a national tournament. And after the battle was over, Guy Sensei could no longer walk.”

You look down at the white business card in a daze, failing to fathom the aftermath of that fateful fight. That same well-mannered, charming gentleman who was so concerned about your financial well-being, took Might Guy’s legs??

“Y/n,” his spine-chilling voice drags you back to earth. “That man is very dangerous. He has no interest in your personal needs, only what you can do for him.”

Lee scoots closer to your desk and rests his forearms on the surface, leaning closer to your face.

“If he ever contacts you again, I need you to tell me immediately. Do you understand?”

You nod affirmatively, taking note of his beauty despite the muted lights that shine shine dryly on his face: his chiseled jaw, the distinct bridge of his nose, his spotless skin, his perfectly trimmed hair, those little lashes that frame the roundness of his eyes, of course - the bushiest brows you’ve ever seen, and those soft lips that slowly form a deeper frown than previously.

“Words, princess,” he demands.

“You got it, sensei. I understand.”

Lee closes his eyes with a sigh, feeling his body decompress against the chair. “Good.. oh, and Amanda fell on her tailbone.”

-

Temari can’t stop thinking about what her husband said: “If you want a divorce, I’ll sign the papers.” He sounded like he barely cared, as if he didn't mind if she broke up with him. And that just won't do for her.

But he’s trying: he’s present for all of her doctor visits, never misses her calls unless he has a good reason to and still calls back to check on her. He doesn’t try to fuss with her when she voices a concern, although it’s challenging. He asks her on dates and movie nights but she declines every time, still upset about his recent behavior. He chalks it up to her being stubborn, but she doesn’t open up to him like she used to. She doesn’t crack jokes anymore, especially the ones at Shika’s expense. Sometimes she silently scowls down at her wedding ring when she thinks he isn’t looking. She’s colder, more miserable. And it wasn’t just affecting her anymore.

“Never thought I’d be asking you for relationship advice.”

Shika lounges on his couch, sipping a can of beer while talking with Lee on the phone.

“Agreed! You must be desperate.” Lee has his old friend on speaker while bandaging his hands for an upcoming spar.

Shika kisses his teeth at how enthusiastic yet unsurprised the fighter sounds. If he hadn’t known him for years he’d mistake his delighted attitude for enjoying his current misfortune.

“I uhm,” Shika shifts in his seat, as if the cushions beneath him will absorb his cowardice. “…I’m doing everything I can. I have a therapist now, I make myself available, I cook her meals. I-I even go out of my way to plan dates- that she always turns down, by the way. It’s like she’s so… uninterested in me now.”

Lee pauses wrapping his knuckles and side-eyes his phone. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

Shika’s eyebrows furrow in offended confusion. So I’m ‘supposed’ to grow gray hairs over this woman? He wonders.

“She seems mad at you. What did you do?”

“…I’ve been a shit husband.”

“How so?”

Shika grumbles under his breath. “I was neglecting her. I ignored her calls, wasn’t talking, avoided spending time at home. I thought sex would be enough to shut her up about it.”

Lee’s eyes widen as he frowns in shock, bringing his phone to his ear as if he didn’t hear him correctly. “And she hasn’t divorced you yet?”

“…Till death do us part?”

Lee raises a brow. “You can’t be serious.”

“If I’m not serious then why am I calling you?”

“That’s a great question, Shikamaru. Why are you calling me?”

“So that I can make it up to my wife before it’s too late.”

Despite the disappointment he has in his friend, Lee still registers the genuine dread rearing itself through every word. Shika squeezes the chilled bottle in his hand as his knee jutsrapidly. It is now or never.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he begs shamelessly. “So help me out?”

Lee lounges against his seat and sighs hopelessly, already knowing what he’s getting himself into.

-

Hours have passed by when Shika finally hears the familiar jingle of keys unlocking the front door. He zooms his way there, making sure he’s ready to greet his lovely wife. After opening the door, the first thing Temari sees after a long, strenuous day is her low-down dirty spouse sporting a chef apron. Whatever he’s cooking smells divine so she’ll let it slide.

“Hey baby. Let me hang up your coat.”

She kicks off her sneakers and places them neatly by another pair. So he wants to put up the perfect husband act now? Nice try. Temari arises and grips her sleeves, staring hopelessly at her husband. “Why did you marry me?”

Her question was so painfully clear, he could hear the pure grief in her warbled tone. He despised it.

“H-Hey, let me take off your coat first so you can get comfortable-“

“Answer me!” She cries.

Shika's eyes fill with dread when he sees the pain she’s fighting contort her face. He takes the time to fully process her question so that he doesn’t half-ass his answer like Lee advised him not to.

“I… I married you cause you’re patient enough to understand me, and you’re understanding enough to be patient with me.”

Initially this sounds like bullshit to Temari’s ears, but when she also takes the time to process his answer she finds herself silent.

“You know me in a way that no one else can. But I took advantage of your earnestness, just like I did to Y/n. And she’s my best friend.”

Temari lowers her head to the floor as she feels her eyes and nose begin to sting.

“Baby I don’t want a divorce, I just knew that you probably wanted one instead. And that scares the shit out of me. But taking off your coat for you would be a good start. Don’t you think, sweetness?”

Shika’s wife feels a big sob rising and gasps a bit of air to choke it down. Shika’s gaze is laced with an overwhelming urge to just love the woman before him, like how she’s done for the past five years.

This warmth that suddenly washes over Temari, how long has it been? Why can’t she remember the last time she felt this connected to her husband? Wordlessly, she turns around and grants him access to keep his word. He gently hooks his fingers underneath the hem of her coat and drags, letting it slip off her shoulders. After hanging up her belongings, Shika wraps his arms around her. Temari releases the hot tears she so desperately held back.

A few moments later, she stifles a gag before ripping herself from his warm embrace and runs to the bathroom. Shika cringes when he hears retching sounds, hurriedly rushing to his wife's aid. After jogging to the bathroom, he crouches down to sit behind Temari and gently holds her hair back as she vomits all of her lunch from earlier today. Her energy leaks out with the regurgitating bile in her mouth; she couldn’t stand even if she wanted. But she doesn’t need to.

She collapses against her husband’s chest when she finishes puking, feeling like she’s an iota away from passing out. Shika’s one step ahead of her, opening a cold bottle of water and raising it to her lips. He praises her gleefully when she swallows a few sips.

“There we go,” he murmurs softly while caressing her perspiring forehead. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

He pecks her temple with a chaste kiss and looks straight ahead, facing nothing in particular with brewing determination.

“I’m right here.”

“Yeah whatever, poser.” Temari sighs contentedly, her voice hoarse from the stomach acid.

-

While going to the dojo always uplifts your spirit, nurse work has been sucking the life out of you the past few weeks. So you decide to bring back something you thought you’d permanently left behind: clubbing. For some reason you think it’s a splendid date idea, so you invite Lee to tag along. When you call him about it, of course he obliges to accompany his lady. He can admit he was quite familiar with raves in his earlier years. It may not be his forte like yours but he’s open to potentially enjoyable experiences- especially if he can share them with you.

It’s now club night, so you open that old bedroom closet. Your hair is in a natural pineapple style as you scan your options.

You pick out a pleated black mini-skirt, a white tank top, black knee-high leather boots and a biker jacket.

“Gosh, i feel like a college graduate again,” you grumble while staring at your reflection in the mirror. You feel kinda old considering how long it’s been since you’ve done something even remotely daring fashion-wise for yourself. You lock your apartment door behind you and strut your fine ass out of the building.

You notice Lee’s car pulling up and walk down the stairs to meet him when he parks. Lee steps out of his vehicle: dressed in dark green joggers and sneakers with a matching skin-tight short sleeve that lusciously accentuates his muscular physique. He finally makes his way to you and lord he almost faints when he’s bestowed with seeing your outfit up close.

You still can’t get used to how small you feel when this man looks down at you, especially when he has the gall to grin so charmingly.

“Hey gorgeous,” He leans down to peck your round cheek with a kiss before turning away to open your door. “Hop on in.”

As much as you two would like to fawn over how delectable you both look, as much as y’all would like to see what’s only left to the imagination, you refuse to take the chance of being inappropriate. So, you’ll both just have to lose your minds about each other internally.

The outside of the club you arrive at just looks like… a dark alleyway. The only implication of an event undergoing behind the simple black door is the security who verifies tickets. Although, once you’re allowed entry…

A bellow of dance music booms through the scene. A flurry of stark neon lights animate every attendee, including the ones residing in the dimly booths. The people on the dance floor look intoxicating, almost possessed by the rapid beat of the music. Now, you’ve gone to your fair share of clubs, but this place is a whole other world. This place looks like what people think clubs should look like.

Since Lee is too mesmerized by the vibrant atmosphere to look for seats, you interlace your fingers with his and guide him through the busy space. Luckily you find a vacant booth to sit at, looking through the menu for drinks.

“What are you getting?” You make sure to raise your voice so Lee can distinguish you from the background noise.

“Hmm. I’ll have a coke. You?”

“…This virgin piña colada looks good.”

You both decide to chat while you wait for a waiter to approach you for orders. Well… that’s until Charli XCX’s 365 plays, and now you know you’re about to go bonkers. Your jaw drops and eyes widen with glee as you shimmy your jacket off. Lee watches you with curiosity as you grab his wrist and drag him to the lively dance floor.

At first you jump up and down to the rhythm, grooving to the electrifying melodies that flow through you. Lee follows your lead and sways to the music. A simple one-two step. But when the main beat drops you lose it, not thinking of Lee or anyone else around you as you let the song take over your body. You whip your head side-to-side, letting your coils fly along the beat as you run your hands down your curvaceous body, a delirious smile adorning your features. Lee couldn’t help but marvel at your blissed out state, how your hips and rolls sway to the fast pace of the song, the way your tits bounce as you rock your body to the music. He wanted to devour you right where you stood. This is the version of you he absolutely adores, the version who doesn’t give a fuck.

You open your eyes and Lee is barely dancing: just lightly jiving while shamelessly staring down your wondrous form. An idea comes to mind, and it’s naughty but you don’t care.

You imitate a rope tied to Lee, and approach him as if you’re pulling him closer. It takes a moment for Lee to register your intent. And when he does he smiles so hard at your contagious charisma he almost giggles, deciding to entertain your advancements.

When you’re finally close enough you turn around, let your hands fall to your knees and shake your butt right on his groin. Lee yelps at how absolutely lovely your soft cheeks feel rubbing against him. He hasn’t been touched like this in years, completely hypnotized by the sight of your back arching in tandem with every effortless jerk of your hips. You look over your shoulder and side-eye him with the most sinful smirk he’s ever seen you make. With his erection bordering on painful at this point, he decides to test how far you’re willing to take this.

Lee’s heavy hands firmly grip your lower waist to anchor you both, as he grinds against the fat of your ass to the music’s quick tempo. His movements are superbly calculated as they are natural. You wonder if Lee has ever gotten this nasty before. But when a certain thrust bumps your clothed cunt, your eyebrows scrunch up instinctively at the sensation. He picks up the pace and utterly debauches you: your knees nearly buckling to the floor when his dick print repeatedly prods your most intimate entrance. It’s almost embarrassing how you huff and puff like you just ran a marathon, as you cope with the swelling arousal.

“…fuck,” you whimper pathetically. The heat pulsing between your legs makes you want to cum. You feel so dirty, it’s addictive. He’s addictive.

Lee skims his palm up the exposed contours of your back until he carefully grips the nape of your neck, while continuing to keep your hips in motion. Your oxygen isn’t cut off, but his grasp is tight enough where you feel lightheaded. You’re finally getting a taste of being at the mercy of his strength and it makes your vision go blurry. He steadily pulls you up until your back is flush against his front. Hot breath fans your skin as his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman and not fuck you over a bathroom sink,” He gives the front of your throat a delicious squeeze before cupping your jaw. “So chill out, princess.”

His words rumble down your spine, you would’ve never expected that initiative from such a man. The way his deep voice makes your tummy flutter should be a health hazard, you just can’t think with him having you like this. Something about his outrageous warning makes you want to obey him, no matter how horny you’re feeling. So you nod wordlessly while rocking back and forth, trying to cope with how torched your body feels.

“Good girl.” He releases you from his grasp. You take some time to catch your breath, processing what this night could have led to before you both continue to dance like y’all weren’t dry humping a moment ago.

“You’re better at this than I thought, Sensei.” You purr.

Lee chuckles tentatively, feeling his body stiffen at your playful use of the nickname.

“I guess It’s been a while since I’ve attended the club scene.”

“Oh, so you’re used to women throwing ass at you?”

“Yeah, but none of them were quite as good as you.” He replied like it was so obvious, like it was a fact that you should know too. Now it’s your turn to shy away, for you couldn’t detect a single lie.

The DJ switches to a slower club classic, ultimately subduing the chaotic atmosphere of the dance floor. You and Lee decide to take a break and have drinks on a balcony for some fresh air. He orders a coke and you a virgin piña colada.

-

The fresh air and quiet landscape make your eyelids feel a bit heavy. There is now some good room for your mind to think, despite the muffled music echoing in the background. It’s a comfortable silence you both share, which relieves you in almost every aspect.

“Thank you for not escalating…” you sway your head as if that will explain your point. “Y’know- when we were dancing.”

You think it’s cute the way Lee’s eyes widen as he processes your words, before tilting his head to look at you. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m comfortable when you’re comfortable.”

You shoot him a dopey grin and take a sip of your yellow beverage.

“Would..” Lee pauses. “Would you like to accompany us at the tournament?”

You lower your glass before looking back up at your dark-haired date, reveling at how the moon rays paint his face.

“Y-You sure?”

“Mhm!” Lee insists, his determined and hopeful gaze igniting that floaty warmth in your chest.

“You’ve not only been nursing my students, y/n. You’ve seen their struggles and growths. You’ve cheered them on through every step for as long as you’ve been at the dojo. They would absolutely love it if you came to see how far they’ve come!”

You smile hopelessly, “Ok then. I’ll be there.”

Lee’s smile is even brighter, now amplified by unbridled relief.

“Now,” you order smugly as you playfully poke his brick wall for a chest. “My question for you.”

Your date’s expression melts into a more serene smirk. “Shoot,” he challenges.

“Why did you stop clubbing?”

Despite your question being random, he still takes the time to carefully process an answer. You watch him while he’s thinking: there’s a distant look in his eyes that makes him appear a bit unsettled, as if he’s seeing something that you can’t.

“I partied during a time when my dojo needed me, so I quit and focused solely on training again.”

While his answer is kind of vague, you accept it for what it is and hope for a time when he’s ready to open up to you more.

“I.. I still really enjoyed my date with you tonight.” He gulps while blushing profusely. “I’d love to dance with you again. Plus, I have to ask that DJ where they find their music.”

Lee looks at you as if he’s terrified you got the wrong idea of how he feels about you. His earnest nature is so adorable sometimes, it makes your eyes sting a bit. You lay your head on his shoulder and look up at the full moon, a lonesome beacon illuminating the black sky.

“I enjoyed our date too.”

“So why did you stop clubbing?” He pries.

You hum in deep thought, deciding to answer with the same level of honesty.

“At some point I thought my job was all I needed to make it in life, since it was the only thing I was good at. I know that’s not true but, I wanted to be the best so that no one under my care would suffer...” How naive I was.

Lee takes a sip from his pop and looks down at you.

“Your will to make sacrifices is admirable.” He commends.

You down the rest of your fruity drink and sigh wantonly. “I’m still a party girl at heart.”

“Apparently,” he deadpans with a smirk.

You swat his shoulder and he laughs heartily, complaining about his coke almost spilling. The comforting silence creeps back in, and you lean against him once more.

“Are you driving me home?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

This work belongs solely to ©️ blimbosworlddd. Do not plagiarize, steal, copy or repost. I worked very hard on this; reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated. And please don’t hesitate to engage with writers. That’s how communities are made.

[lunarlane]

Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story

(tw: rape/abuse/incest)

My Review -

When the trial originally began in 1993, society was intrigued and attached to the idea of these brothers. It began controversy between people, some of whom agreed that the brothers only murdered their parents for financial gain. Whereas, others believed the brother's story about the abuse they endured from their father, during their upbringing. The release of this true-crime series by Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan has caused the controversy to resurface. The younger generation have become increasingly interested in the case and most believe the brothers story of abuse. The brothers have become a popular and trending topic on Tiktok and other social media platforms.

In the show, the casting is excellent, with standout performances from the actors portraying the brothers. Their ability to convey both vulnerability and violence adds depth to characters who could easily be reduced to sensationalized figures. The supporting cast, particularly the actors playing José and Kitty Menendez, give chilling portrayals of the family’s toxic dynamics.

However, from my perspective, the series seems to focus more on glamorizing the brothers rather than acknowledging the terrible abuse they endured, perpetuating the same pattern of turning them into media spectacles. The portrayal downplays the severity and lasting psychological impact of their abuse, making it seem far less serious than it truly was. The boys are portrayed as spoiled, rich kids who do terrible things just because they can and want to, a narrative most people familiar with the case know is far from the truth. When Erik recounts the abuse they endured, the story shifts to one of survival—where they were acting out of self-preservation, aligning with the film’s title Kill or Be Killed. This perspective reflects the trauma and violence they faced.

The portrayal of the brothers is unsettling, with their relationship being depicted in a way that borders on incestuous. It’s deeply disturbing that the brothers were ever portrayed so inaccurately, and worse, without their consent. Turning victims into media spectacles, especially after they’ve already suffered the consequences of not being believed, is inexcusable. This series was incredibly well shot and beautifully executed by the actors, but it’s impossible to shake the feeling of intruding on someone’s deeply personal life—especially knowing the brothers were unaware it was being filmed. For me, this lack of consent discredits the entire production. Had they received permission, it could have been a powerful and moving series. But without it, I can’t appreciate it in the same way.

They completely glamorized the entire situation, and many, including myself, feel it’s overly Hollywood-ized. It comes across as romanticizing the abuse they endured, which is just unacceptable. It’s like, what the hell? Also, why make this without asking the brothers for their consent? Even if it’s a public case, it’s just downright strange. It’s their life and their trauma, and yet people are profiting off it. It really pisses me off, because it’s not anyone’s place to exploit their story, especially without their permission.

A comment was made by Erik Menedez stating: "I believed we had moved beyond the lies and ruinous character portrayals of Lyle, creating a caricature of Lyle rooted in horrible and blatant lies rampant in the show. I can only believe they were done so on purpose. It is with a heavy heart that I say I believe Ryan Murphy cannot be this naïve and inaccurate about the facts of our lives so as to do this without bad intent. It is sad for me to know that Netflix’s dishonest portrayal of the tragedies surrounding our crime have taken the painful truths several steps backward - back through time to an era when the prosecution built a narrative on a belief system that males were not sexually abused, and that males experienced rape trauma differently than women. So now Murphy shapes his horrible narrative through vile and appalling character portrayals of Lyle and of me and disheartening slander. Is the truth not enough? Let the truth stand as the truth."

The fact that Ryan Murphy not only failed to seek consent but also portrayed the brothers in such a disturbing way is deeply unsettling. I completely agree with Erik’s statement—the entire portrayal was appalling. While the brothers may have trauma-bonded due to the abuse they suffered, the series crosses a line by depicting them as outright incestuous, even in its promotion, where both brothers are seen as shirtless. It’s both disrespectful and disturbing.

Overall, the series is a chilling and dark portrayal of the case, with truly spectacular acting. However, the entire project feels deeply unsettling. Ryan Murphy had no right to depict the brothers this way and profit from their trauma and abuse, much like what he did with the Jeffrey Dahmer series and the victims’ families. He seems incapable of seeking consent before exploiting people’s lives for entertainment, and it’s frustrating to see him being praised for it. This could have been a completely different story if he had asked for permission and portrayed the brothers differently —but he didn’t. And due to these facts, i can only rate the series negatively. The show could have been used to show the impact that SA and trauma could have on a person but unfortunately that was not the case. This should never have been released but i am glad that the release of this show has brought attention to the case of the Menendez brothers and the disgusting man that is Ryan Murphy.

[kustas]

Thinking of that previous post about the fandom ignoring the flaws in the characterisation of the dunmesh cast. That sort of realistic distribution of personal views of the world (including biased/bigoted ones), varying tastes in everything and unpleasant personality traits is something I consider essential to writing a good cast myself to the point where it often sets apart what series I consider good and what series I consider standouts

A series with mediocre plot writing with a cast of characters who feel like real people with the range of complexity that comes with it will always strike me more than something with an excellent plot and characters who are too artificial. That is of course my personal opinion, but following it I have to say it's very common in manga for stuff to be the latter and it's one of the reasons I don't like a lot of popular series who objectively have merit

The most obvious example I can give on this blog being WHA. WHA is so deeply allergic to making characters both unpleasant and important actors, it vouches for the reader's pity by justifying distasteful actions with personal tragedies or gives the unforgivable traits to side characters you are supposed to entirely hate. Where that disturbs me (on top of just not feeling well written) is that it does so while trying to make points about inequality including tying it to real world issues. No one's perfect in real life and I believe you cannot start drawing lines between what makes someone Good and what makes someone Bad in relation to how they should be treated by the state and by others because there's an infinity of human experiences and putting conditional limits to your human rights inherently means you are not giving these rights to some

[kagomesama]

An AU where Sonic is famous on Instagram with 3M followers known as @Last_Whisper. This is a live about the new popular show One Punch Man on Jetflix adapted from the eponymous novel.

Author's note at the end of this post

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Live in transcript:

Start Live

"Hello everyone, it's last_whishper.

Big topic today. I think a lot of you have seen the 4th episode of the new One Punch Man saga broadcast last night. I couldn't miss doing a live today!

I received a lot of messages and I apologize if I answered you very briefly.

So yes, I will finally answer your questions. It's me who was chosen to play the role of our famous ninja Speed ​​o' Sound Sonic.

The series was already being shot when the producers offered me this role. I didn’t expect to be making my debut in the movies. I thought about it and said "why not?"

" In this role, I had to learn to play the opposite of my personality: to be sadistic, to display that smile of Cheshire's cat and to have a provocative temperament. In short, the perfect Yandere.

So I see your comments in live. I will answer them. No, I am not wearing a wig but hair extensions. No lenses because I have a very similar eye color. And yes, the outfit is very tight but very light. And no, I am barefeet. And for the fighting techniques, I will keep that a secret :p

Ah yes, the famous punch scene. I reassure you, I am still whole! And even if you don't care, it's the same!

In short, you will still see me play this role for a while."

"I still see your many messages on this live but unfortunately, I am bound by a confidentiality clause in my contract. So I can't reveal everything to you.

Continue to send your comments after this live. I will try to answer them.

It's time for me to leave you. I'll see you soon in another video.

Bye!"

End Live

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: so I wanted to make this little AU in a world completely similar to ours : no heroes, no monsters, no demons and others things.

Drawing Sonic without his purple marks under the eyes, without his scars, with short hair and especially without his provocative attitude, it was very disturbing.

I wanted to make a small tribute to our favorite yandere ninja. Invent a fictional birthday since we do not know his real date. I thought of his first appearance in the MANGA and not WEBCOMIC (I couldn't find a date sorry) : September 20th.