#But I will celebrate it all the same :D

[completeoveranalysis]

[10]

More of what I was saying just before - the peak contrast of Kyle’s actual dying blood falling through the air, while Evil Wolverine smiles confidently in his very best All According to Keikaku face.

The cleanliness of him, completely untouched by the absolutely devastating battle we’ve just survived, entirely unaffected by the blood of his closest ally literally right in front of his face. 

And the look of it all! This is like the big expensive fancy portrait to hang in the drawing room of a noble estate. It’s gorgeous in a way that Evil Wolverine does not deserve but the Clamp of it all is fantastic.

Like I’m sorry Evil Wolverine, you weren’t even close to winning the villain poll the other week, but at least you get maximum CLAMP art attention! 

I mean we know better than to actually listen to what Evil Wolverine says, ever, but kind of hilarious that Kyle dies in front of him and all Evil Wolverine can do is say, “Well, he wasn’t even good at that then, was he?”

Ignoring the fact that if the job is “body double” he quite literally performed that task perfectly. He DID take the hit intended to kill Evil Wolverine. No-one saw through the illusion. Not Lava Lamp, not Kurogane, not Fai. It genuinely worked. 

Kyle did exactly what he wanted and Evil Wolverine is out here saying no he didn’t.  

The sheer desperation of this man to always be right, to always be in control, when he can’t be, leading him to lie when things actually DO go exactly to plan. 

Unless he was expecting Kyle Rondary alone to hold off the Tsubasa Family?

I suppose if he was counting on Syaoran by himself being enough to take them all out - which, FAIR, he absolutely did. But EVEN THEN he made Kyle sit in the disguise chair, looking like him, to clean up anyone left over? JUST IN CASE it didn’t work? Which is a lot left to KYLE RONDART of all people. 

In which case Evil Wolverine is admitting that ONCE AGAIN his plans suck and fail and he can never get them to go right. 

And all over again it’s because people love each other that his plans die and he never accounts for that. 

And all he can do is blame Kyle Rondart instead, who was just supposed to sit there and not know what was coming for him.

Which... again, he did.

BUT WHY AM I DEFENDING KYLE RONDART OF ALL PEOPLE, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER NICK

Meanwhile Lava Lamp sees Evil Wolverine sitting there calmly with Sakura’s empty body and just begins to LOSE IT. 

And honestly I probably would too if I wasn't so unreasonably THRILLED about the sudden Kyle Murder we were treated with

The triple use of Evil Wolverine's name? The SCREAMING as the background turns to static behind him?

UNDERSTANDABLE!

This would probably be devastating, to think it was finally over, just for a moment, only to find out that it was just a trick. To have Syaoran sacrifice his life to attack Evil Wolverine only to find out that he’s completely untouched. To see him still holding Sakura’s body like it's just another useful item to him, and wasting Kyle’s life almost needlessly and then insult him as he dies. 

It would be, as they say, not a very good day. 

And I’m absolutely FASCINATED by that last angle, with Kyle’s body in the foreground and Lava Lamp screaming behind it. As if even KYLE’S death is a wrong that Evil Wolverine has committed. As if even THAT has added to Lava Lamp’s distress in the moment, on top of the LIFETIMES of crimes he has committed against literally everyone in the universe. 

Justice for Kyle?

Emotional Justice for Kyle Rondart in MY Tsubasa Reservoir?

It’s MORE LIKELY THAN I THINK

[ruporas]

cheers to the future of humanity (and the future of us)

[ID: Digital illustration in color of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun. The illustration takes place during the ship/home arc, specifically chapter 21. At the center, Vash is grabbing Wolfwood by the collar and pulls him into a kiss in the middle of a celebration. The pair is colored in vibrant warm hues while their surroundings are colored in cooler colors like green and teals. Luida, Brad, Meryl, and Milly are shown amongst the crowd, occupied in the celebrations as Vash and Wolfwood share a moment by themselves at the center. END ID]

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[tangledinink]

new gemini update was so good as always but I can't stop thinking:

big mama: there's nothing wrong with my sons

splinter: you fucked up two perfectly good kids is what you did. look at blue. he's got an eating disorder

wwhhhattttt? nooo, don't be silly. leo doesn't have an eating disorder.

leo and donnie have eating disorders--

[shalom-iamcominghome]

Me: I am interested in judaism ONLY. Show me content about jewish life, intellectualism, history, and daily life

The Algorithm, apparently: does this mean you're interested in mormonism... how about jehova's witness............... this is all you'll get recommended by the way

[femmeetart]

*party blower sound*

[deus-ex-mona]

W A I T I N G FOR THE MEOTO MV LIKE

[gifti3]

happy bday to me! 🎂🥳🎉

for this very special day i wanted to list and compare the presents and interactions i got in the mobile games ive been playing consistently lmao

under cut cause the pics are big

Time Princess A letter with 10 golden tickets, 100 stamina, and 10000 coins

Obey Me! Nightbringer 1 UR+, UR, and SSR Joker each 3 Demon Vouchers 30 Karma Points 200 AP 30000 Grim 50 Devil Points Along with a bday video, birthday calls from the characters throughout the day and a UR guarantee for a 10 pull There's half-off on Devil Tree unlocks There's also special birthday dialogue in the Surprise Guests: -- the first Surprise Guest I did gave me 30 more Devil Points -- and you can press anywhere on the boys and get max hearts :]

What in HELL is Bad They haven't implemented bday stuff yet so nothing (´。＿。｀)

Twisted Wonderland A Happy Birthday from the character you have set as your favorite card and a Tenfold Key Set (for rolls)

and last but not least.....*drum roll* 🥁🥁🥁 Love and Deepsace! Special Happy Birthdays from each guy which include them singing happy birthday to you :3 Birthday Dialogue on the home screen Presents from each one (items you can use to decorate their desks) 500 Diamonds 5 Empyrean Wishes 1 Bottle of Wishes: SSR 1 Energy Capsule: Powerful And 2 birthday stickers

[sysig]

Kinda in the middle of planning a defense, no flirting pls (Patreon)

Bonus:

[keeps-ache]

DARN, missed it again! 2nd anniversary of being a they/themer :D

[martyrbat]

[ID: The title panel for 'The Bat-man' and 'The Case of the Chemical Syndicate'. In it, a mysterious silhouette is standing on a rooftop as they look out at the skyscrapers in the background. The silhouette has giant wings that resembles a bat! They flare out on each side of the figure as their human-esque legs and head stick out from it. The sky is light blue as the narration explains: The "Bat-man", a mysterious and adventurous figure fighting for righteousness and apprehending the wrongdoer, in his lone battle against the evil forces of society… His identity remains unknown. END ID]

detective comics #27 | (#627 reprint)

(full comic & ID below cut!)

[ID:

We see a young man sitting in a blue chair and smoking a pipe as an older man sits across from him. The narration reads: The home of Commissioner Gordon, who at the moment is entertaining his young socialite friend, Bruce Wayne. — Bruce is wearing an amber, windowpane checked suit and has his black hair neatly combed back. Gordon, the older man with silver hair and glasses, wears a white suit with black lines forming a herringbone pattern across it. Bruce has his chin resting against his palm in boredom as he asks, "Well, commissioner, anything exciting happening these days?" Gordon responds, "No-o – except this fellow they call the 'Bat-man' puzzles me!" He's interrupted by his phone ringing.

Gordon talks into the phone, "Hello… What's that? Lambert, The Chemical King… Stabbed to death? His son's finger prints on the knife? – I'll be right over!" He hangs up the phone and tells Bruce, "Talk about something exciting… Old Lambert has been murdered at his mansion… I'm going there now. Like to come along?" Bruce nonchalantly says, "Oh well, nothing else to do, might as well." They speed off to Lambert's residence, where they greet the police sergeant. He leads them to the scene of the crime and after a thorough examination, Gordon begins to talk to the murder suspect: 'Young' Lambert, who's already insisting that he wasn't the one that killed his father!

Gordon orders the distressed man to calm down and explain what happened. Young Lambert wipes at his forehead nervously as he reluctantly elucidates, "Well sir… Tonight I came home early, and as I was passing the library I heard a groan... I rushed in and there was my father lying on the floor, with a knife in him! … And as I rushed in, I got the impression of something leaping out of the window… I also noticed that father's safe was opened… I pulled the knife out of my father's body, and turned him toward me just in time to hear him say 'contract'... And then he died. That's how I got my fingerprints on the knife… That's the truth, commissioner!" Two panels accompany Young Lambert's words. It shows him finding his father's body by the open window before cradling his father close to him. 'Old' Lambert vaguely warns his son about the contract before dying in his arms.

Gordon raises his hand to his chin in thought before asking, "Hmm! Did your dad have any enemies or people who had an interest in his business activities?" The man hesitantly answers, "... not that I know of, except his three former business partners... Let's see, they were Steven Crane, Paul Rogers and Alfred Stryker." Before Gordon can continue to question him, he's interrupted by another cop. He's alerted, "Commissioner, there's a man named Steve Crane who wants to speak to Old Lambert... When I told him that Old Lambert was murdered he got very excited and wanted to speak to you!"

Gordon takes the phone and asks what's the trouble. Crane hastily explains, "Yesterday, Mr. Lambert called and told me he received an anonymous threat on his life... today I received the same... That's why I called up... and I'm afraid I'll be next... what shall I do?" Gordon orders, "Wait… And do not let anybody in… We'll be over soon as we can – what's that, Bruce?" He hangs up as Bruce Wayne's actions distract him. Bruce – who's been silently observing this whole time – smacks his tobacco pipe against his open palm, dumping the ashes onto the floor of the crime scene. He apathetically announces, "Ho hum! I'll leave you here to finish your work… I'm going home."

Meanwhile, Crane sits in his home library with a feeling of impending danger as he waits… Before a gunman suddenly breaks in! He shoots Crane dead without hesitation before stealing a paper from his safe and leaving through the window! He joins his partner on the roof, who checks if the murderer got the paper. The narration reads: ... As the two men leer over their conquest, they do not notice a third menacing figure standing behind them… It is the "Bat-Man!" — The cowardly criminals recoil in shock at the masked man. He wears a cowl that conceals the top half of his face and has bat like ears sticking out. His arms are crossed as he broadly stands with his legs spread. On his chest is a bat emblem and he has a big, dramatic cape draped from his shoulders that flare out – it too resembling a bat.

But suddenly the Bat-Man punches the accompanying partner, knocking him unconscious! He grabs the murderer in a headlock and with a mighty heave, he sends the burly criminal flying through the air and off the roof! Commissioner Gordon and his men are just arriving at the scene – the commissioner announcing it's the Bat-Man and to 'get him', prompting the other cops to start firing at the mysterious stranger! The Bat-Man flees from the scene at once, but not before quickly snatching the paper the criminals stole from Crane's safe!

He escapes to his red sedan and reads the paper he took from the killers before a grim smile stretches across his lips. He speeds off to an unknown destination! During which, the butler informs Gordon and his men that Crane has been murdered. Gordon tells another cop, "That's two dead partners out of the four that received threatening notes. The other two must have received them too… Let's go to Rogers next!"

Meanwhile Rogers, who has learned of Lambert's death by news broadcast, has already gone to the neighboring laboratory of his erstwhile partner, Alfred Stryker… — Rogers greets Stryker's assistant, Jennings. Jennings invites the distraught man inside before clubbing him in the head and tying him up in the laboratory's basement! Jennings schemes to himself, "Heh! Heh! One more out of the way – soon I'll control everything!"

Rogers wakes to find himself in a trap and calls Jennings a fiend! Jennings laughs again as he taunts, "This is the gas-chamber I use to kill guinea pigs, to experiment with – but now you are my guinea pig! When the glass lid covers you entirely, gas will come through the jet and kill you! I'm going down now to turn the gas on… Sleep well!" he leaves with one last giggle and with a pull of the brake to cause the glass chamber to start to descend!

But at that very moment, the Bat-Man jumps through an open transom! He seizes a wrench from a table and leaps for the gas-chamber, barely managing to get inside before it seals itself against the floor! Swiftly, the Bat-Man plugs the gas jet with a handkerchief. He unties Rogers and with a powerful swing, he uses the wrench to break the glass!

Jennings returns and is startled at seeing the Bat-Man! He reaches for his gun but the masked vigilante 'greets' him with a flying tackle and punch, knocking the murderous assistant unconscious!

Meanwhile, Stryker has heard the crash of the gas-chamber being broken. He enters the laboratory and finds Rogers and his assistant, failing to notice the Bat-Man has secluded himself in the shadows. Rogers exclaims that Stryker's assistant tried to kill him! Stryker responds, "So he didn't get you after all… Well, I'll finish you and then throw your body in the acid tank below." He pulls a knife and goes to attack Rogers before the Bat-Man springs into action!

He grabs Stryker's hand harshly, forcing him to drop the knife in shock! Rogers asks the masked man why did Stryker try to kill him as the Bat-Man holds the would-be murderer by his collar to prevent his escape. He explains, "This rat was behind the murders! You see, I learned that you, Lambert, Crane, and Stryker were once partners in the Apex Chemical Corporation. Stryker, who wished to be sole owner, but having no ready cash made secret contracts with you, to pay a certain sum of money each year until he owned the business. He figured by killing you and stealing the contracts, he wouldn't have to pay this money."

Rogers can't help but to admire, "Hmm, a very clever scheme, and being the contracts were a strict secret between the four of us, our heirs or the outside world wouldn't know a thing about them… But how did you know all this?" The Bat-Man pulls a rolled up piece of paper out of nowhere before simply stating, "I secured this contract from one of his hired killers."

Suddenly, Stryker, with the strength of a madman, tears himself free from the grasp of the Bat-Man… — He shoves himself away in an attempted escape but the Bat-Man knocks him off-balance with a right hook punch to the man's face! He stumbles backwards and crashes through the flimsy railing, falling into the tank of acid. Bat-Man solemnly remarks that it's 'a fitting ending for his kind'. Rogers turns to the mysterious man, starting to ask how could he ever thank him, but the Bat-Man is already fleeing by the skylight window.

The next day, young Bruce Wayne is again a visitor at the commissioner's house… Who has just finished telling Bruce the latest exploits of the "Bat-Man". — Bruce is skeptical of the story, telling Gordon, "Hmm! A very lovely fairy-tale, commissioner, indeed." After Bruce departs, the commissioner mumbles to himself, "Bruce Wayne is a nice young chap – but he certainly must lead a boring life… Seems disinterested in everything."

Bruce returns to his home and goes to his bedroom. A short while later, the door slowly opens, revealing to us Bruce Wayne's greatest secret and something that would surely amaze all… That he himself is the Bat-Man!

END ID]

[atenderofsycamoretrees]

Matty Bovan Spring 2023 Ready-to-Wear

Photos by Daniele Oberrauch / Gorunway.com

[thesmokinpossum]

Completely forgot that it was the beginning of Sukkot tonight and I got so confused as to why I could suddenly hear a bunch of my neighbors loudly and enthusiastically partying on a wednesday night 😂

[our-inspire-verse]

Kiba absolutely shaking it OUT to this this afternoon. That last few moments where Jack just "ouuuuRWWAAAAAAA!!!!" He just hopped out of his lil nook and came running and just NUZZLED and play bounced all over, shaking his lil dog face around and wagging and shaking it out

[clemencetaught]

@jeoseungsaja sent in:

He'd been out all day. And this time not to get physically wounded in the process (nor to be frantically consumed by a case that's been taking his sleep away for years), but to take a last-minute trip to the beach. To send messages upon the sand. When he was little, his mother, Da-Eun, used to tell him that messages written on the sand, when touched by magnanimous waves, would be sent to those who are no longer among the living. 'Think of them as angels in the water,' she used to say with a smile, whilst taking Hyuk's small hand and guiding him to the endless grains of salt, 'they will take your message anywhere, so the one you're sending it to can read it.' He remembers writing one for his biological mother. And as time went by, he remembers writing many to Da-Eun, too. And now, to his best friend, Patrick. If it was for him, he would've sent his dear friend an entire book of thoughts. However, it's always been hard to realize that these are the only letters that, maybe (even if it's a product of imagination), will get to him. Lines on the sand, taken by sea's foam. He just writes a simple message. Hope it gets somewhere; somewhere, near him. Happy Birthday, Dae-yah. You are missed. He drinks tea in his name. Eats one of those curry puffs he liked so much. Then he heads back; head heavy. He doesn't expect anyone to be there; he told Suki and Jae-Hwan to take the day off, too. Nevertheless, when he twists the doorknob, he sees that familiar shadow again. The Black Knight. He wonders if he knows. If he cares. Well, if he read Patrick's file, then he would know. But who knows if he cares. "I'm not in the mood to see anyone today." A bitter grumble; dark eyes (saddened and tired) looking up to see the covered figure. "Any business you may have, bring it another day." But not today; not today, where he wants to remember Patrick's LIFE instead of his DEATH. He sighs, then basically pushes a bag upon the Black Knight's chest. It's a plastic bag, with the legend of red 'thank you's' written all over it. "Here, have this. I don't need it anymore." Inside, there's a foam container with multiple curry puffs. He doesn't tell him why, there's just an impulse of giving this to him, somehow. As if feeling this man is more or less similar to him. Barely eats. "Now go. Please." Nicely, because as he looks into those eyes, something simply...itches. Gnaws. Pulls strings. "I'll...see you soon." Hyuk forgot to take out the receipt from the bag. The yellowish strip has doodles made with blue ink; a hedgehog with a party hat. It also has the message 'happy birthday, best friend' written next to the drawing. Maybe letters in the sand are sent, after all. They arrive, perhaps. Not in the same of foam, but in the shape of silly doodles and receipts. (HELLO DEAR FERRE, I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME SENDING THIS YOUR WAY WIUEDHWIUEDH, there's no need to reply or anything BUT, I HAD TO SEND IT, EVEN IF IT'S A LITTLE LATE; HOPE THIS IS OKAY, TAKE MUCH CARE, CARE YOU TONS!!)

He shouldn’t be here.

Well, there are a lot of places Myungdae shouldn’t be, but when has that ever stopped him? So he offends ANACHRON and the law and probably a bunch of other people by trespassing, but isn’t that the Black Knight’s job in the first place? Stepping on the toes one person, one organization, one complex at a time in order to get the desired result. Waiting around and playing by the rules clearly doesn’t get him or the victims anywhere so he shouldn’t feel any guilt for this set of felonies.

And he doesn’t. Not really.

It shouldn’t be any different here, especially when neither the law nor ANACHRON ( or ARGOS for that matter ) are involved here. 

That being said- a different kind of guilt sets in his stomach here. It’s the kind where he promised Nell he would take the day off today of all days because according to her, ‘it’s your BIRTHDAY, you’re not supposed to work on your birthday’. She didn’t even let him make breakfast for her, Hiro, and Elise like he usually does. 

“Your only job is to relax for today, mate,” she had said, jabbing a finger at him that morning.

( Embarrassingly, or maybe it’s been his preference, he had forgotten about it- his birthday, one chilly day in February. When ARGOS made his new identity, it had taken Myungdae a long minute or two to remember:

“Birthday?” The stenographer had asked, fingers clicking away on his typewriter. In comparison to Nell’s typing, it was cacophony, inhospitable as the grey walls of the facility itself. Nothing at all like Nell’s. He hated it, the way it filled the silence between the probing questions.

Myungdae wavered, eyes glued to the table. When was the last time someone had asked him that? He closed his eyes trying and failing to summon an image of a calendar. “…February.” Which day was it? It wasn’t at the end, but it wasn’t quite at the start either. “Tenth.”

Could you blame him though? When the bulk of his five years were spent purely on a. avoiding ANACHRON, b. making sure ARGOS didn’t think he was burden, or c. most importantly, survival, birthdays, in turn, seem rather…ridiculous. Facetious when there are more important things to be concerned over. )

Myungdae stared back at her, eyes still groggy from having slept bent over his desk instead before she huffed, hands on her hips. “Birthdays are days only good things are allowed to happen, yeah?”

( She was kind enough to just serve him his usual first cup of coffee, however. Nevermind the hearty breakfast that she and Hiro had technically made for him; they could always have leftovers tomorrow. Alfred was kind too- simply gave him his usual coffee order and claimed it was ‘on the house’- he was practicing Latte Wednesdays, you see. )

Which implicitly also means- no BLACK KNIGHT activities today.

And yet here he is lying to her. And slipping into Hyuk’s shoebox of an office in the dead of night. He has yet to truly ask himself- why does he keep returning, coming to this mulishly hard headed detective? This detective whose bite is about as acidic as the words he flings out both carefully and recklessly. It stings each time, each visit like a scab picked off too soon. 

Myungdae tells himself each time he leaves- this will be the last time. Last time he sees his dear friend. Last time he sinks into the past. Last time he’ll put Hyuk in danger.

Sure, Hyuk won’t forgive him, just as he probably hasn’t forgiven Patrick Grace for leaving too soon, but he’ll be ALIVE.

And isn’t that the most important thing, above all else? What other reason would those last five years have been for then?

The detective is not there when Myungdae at first arrives, but air is still abloom with the scent of lilies of the valley and dust. He checks the pot by the window sill- moist, for once. Looks like the detective remembered to water it for once. 

And speaking of which, the door opens. And Myungdae dives into the shadows without another moment to spare. Oh, how Hyuk truly is a conundrum in the way he makes Myungdae’s heart race both in anticipation but also in fear. 

Myungdae is quick to roll his eyes- since when is the detective ever seeking out company? If anything, it’s the other way around: company seeks him out and then clings to him like wet seran wrap. But then he looks up, confused as suddenly, he’s carrying a bag- what’s that smell? It’s fragrant and delightful and familiar and-

He peeks inside before pulling out one of many curry buns. 

Oh. Aren’t those more common in the United Kingdom? If one really wanted to eat them here in Seoul, they’d have to go out of their way to find, like some place in Itaewon. He drops the curry bun back into the bag.

“...I’m not here on any business.” Well, does he ever have a good reason to come back here over and over again? He’s about to dish out another quip when Hyuk’s voice gives him pause. For some reason, it’s almost…hurts to hear. There’s no acidity, no anger- just…melancholy. And a hint of desperation- like he’ll BREAK if the Black Knight says another word. The Black Knight shuts his mouth, frowning.

It stings again though, a little bit more than usual- being told to leave, even if Hyuk will be expecting him on another day. “Very well. I’ll…I'll come back another time.” He opens the window and pauses before leaping out. “...Sleep somewhere that isn’t your desk. Otherwise, you’ll blow your back out.” 

A fair distance away from the eyes of the detective and the rest of the city, Myungdae removes his hat and then his mask before reaching into the red bag. He pulls out the receipt- oh. That’s why.

And here Myungdae thought the detective would have…forgotten after all these years. Isn’t that what time is supposed to do to grief anyways- soften the edges and make the details a little blurrier, a little more difficult to remember? Fingers glide over the hedgehog and underline the hastily scrawn message: happy birthday, best friend.

Myungdae sighs.

( When he gets back to base, Nell and Alfred are both waiting for him. Alfred, for once, sympathetic, and Nell, a little peeved, but can she be blamed? They all know this lifestyle is all-consuming- once you start, it’s hard to put the sword back down. Addictive. Myungdae doesn’t say anything, only perching on the table and setting Hyuk’s bag beside him. He opens the container, takes out A CURRY PUFF and takes a bite, chewing. Slowly.

It’s still warm. Just a little bit.

He takes another bite. )

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 02

-SO I HOPE AND PRAY YOU MAKE IT WORTH IT.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ YAPPEE! part two officially out- so sorry for the wait EUEUEU… hehe hope the things that happen in this chapter make up for it being a few days late :p also, i will not be accepting anymore tag list requests! this is due to the amount of users that i can tag per post T^T … nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy the chap! happy reading :D 

p.s. i will be blocking the people who message me (rudely) to “hurry up” with the next chapters. i understand most, if not, all of you are excited to read the next chapters, but please do understand that i have my own schedule too :,)

prev. | next

YOU HELD YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, GROANING INTO YOUR PALMS. In front of you sat the thorn at your side, Ken Sato. He had just finished reading- or rather, skimming through the files you had stayed up compiling. You peeked at him through your fingers before standing up to erase yet another column of pros and cons from the board. 

Taking a swig from the energy drink he had brought you, you shake your head as you try to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, you were just eager to leave. You had two weeks left until you could finally let these burdensome tasks go, all you wanted was for Ken to go along with your last few instructions so as to make your exit easier. 

“I don’t get what’s so hard about this, Ken.” You say, turning back around to face him. “You pick a girl, you ‘date’ her for a bit, and then you ‘split up’ amicably. Simple as that.” 

He tilted his head at you, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh sure, yeah. Let me just go out with a random girl and act like I’m head over heels in love with her.”

“Yes, exactly that.” You reply with the same tone, going back to your seat. “Now you’re getting it!”

He rolls his eyes, placing the stapled papers back on your desk. “I get it, I fucked up. But I still don’t get why you’re so…” He pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line and gesturing with his hands. “Persistent in actually trying to get me to date someone for the sake of my screw up.”

“And I don’t get why I have to keep reminding you of why I need to do this.” You lean back into your chair while pinching the bridge of your nose. “You were the one who-”

“-’Told the entire world you were in love’, yes I know! You’ve only said that like, what, a hundred times over?” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. “I know what I did. But I also know that I have a choice in this matter, don’t I?”

You go to reply but stop when you register his words. You knew that, obviously, which is why you had multiple plans. You were giving him the chance to choose, were you not? The various notes and drafted project plans were proof of that. They were all laid out right in front of him, what more could he possibly want? You look at him briefly, your eyes scanning his expression before darting back to the things scattered atop your desk. 

“I’m giving you choices.” You say flatly, slowly looking back up at him. 

“No, you’re giving me options and expecting me to choose.” He counters, his hand gesturing towards the papers. “I’m talking about my choice. My plan, suggestion, whatever you want to call it.”

“So what is your plan? Because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem to actually have one.” You reply, brows slightly furrowing at his stubbornness. 

“And that’s the point. I don’t need a plan,” He pauses, pointing his finger directly onto one of the outlines and it towards you. “I just need to ride it out.”

You let out a scoff, stunned at how Ken was still treating this so lightly. The corners of your lips tug up a bit, and you end up letting out a soft laugh in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I, though?” He leans back, maintaining eye contact with you. “It’s the choice that takes the least effort. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kept things private.”

“Oh, don’t circle this back to me.” You say, pointing a finger at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to address your little mishaps?” 

“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m trying to help you.” He says a-matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising as if to emphasize how much he understands what your job entails. 

“No, you don’t.” You argue back, mimicking his crossed arms.

“Were you always this stubborn?” Ken says, catching you off guard. 

You feel your features scrunch up in confusion and annoyance, narrowed eyes slanting even more as this back-and-forth of yours keeps going. “You’re one to talk.” 

At that he smirks slightly, rolling his eyes as he pokes a tongue into his cheek. The audacity of this man to act annoyed. You think, all the while you continue to glare at him. You close your eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, taking in a deep breath as your nails dig into your palms. Despite wanting to calm yourself down, his words rang in your head like an unwanted mantra.

His choice.

Would it be so bad to give Ken free reign on this? Granted, he was the one who caused it. Why be the one to clean up his mess- again, for that matter? You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head once more. You could never understand how his mind worked, and you figured you probably never would. You tapped against the desk with your pen, bouncing your leg as you pondered on what to do. 

Your plan? Everything sets sail smoothly, with only the liability being either party slips up. Which, in your defense, you could cover up in the blink of an eye. His plan? No plotline with room for spontaneous detail sharing whenever he pleased. More work for you, more freedom for him. You stopped tapping then, clicking your pen into place. In your moment of contemplation, you had realized then this entire thing was useless. His plan, your plan, all the plans. None of them mattered, not if the end result was going to be the same. 

Goddamnit, you hated Ken Sato. 

You flip one of the stapled pieces of paper over, drawing over the blank side. “The start of your first full season with the Giants is in less than fourteen days. By then we would need to have already released another press release- ideally before your conference.” 

Ken jumps slightly, caught off guard by your sudden return to work mode. He watches as you line up different keywords with boxy arrows, all of which lead up to the ‘end’ of his lie. “What exactly am I looking at?”

You flash him a smile, albeit a fake one, and slide the paper to him. “Your plan.” Leaning back in your chair, you make a show of stretching your arms. “You’re right, we should go with your plan.” 

He laughs then, noting the lingering hints of sarcasm in your tone. “[Y/N], what are you doing?”

“Giving you your choice.” You reply with a small shrug. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” He says, his smile slightly faltering. “But… why?”

“It’s your life, isn’t it?” You tilt your head to the side, your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused and annoyed. The way he understood this, you were letting him win. You were waving a white flag, surrendering to his incessant pleading. He scrunched his brows, still trying to process your words. You continued to sit there, waiting eerily patiently for him to respond. 

“And you’re serious about this?” He questions once more, hesitant to believe that you of all people would back down so quickly. 

“Mhm,” You hum, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m just your assistant. Well, for two more weeks, that is.” 

He felt like he was being played. He blinked at you, mouth slightly agape. The you that was sitting in front of him now was different from the you thirty-six hours ago. Yesterday, you were desperate for him to follow your plans. He recalled your words, ‘If you're actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.’ But now that you’re telling him to do exactly what he wants, he’s nervous. 

Nervous that he finally caused you to hate him for good. 

“If you’re done sitting there like I said something stupid, you can go. Coach wants to see the team, it’d be in your best favor not to be on his bad side two weeks before playoffs.” You say, not even looking at him directly. 

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Right, well, okay.” He stands up, sliding himself into his jacket before walking towards the door. “See you, then.”

You only hum in response, still not looking at him as you continue fixing all of the papers on your desk. Just before he’s fully out of your office though, you call out to him. 

“Yeah?” He answers immediately, peeking his head through the door. 

“Have fun riding it out.” You say, flashing him a smile. A real one, this time.

A WEEK HAD GONE BY JUST LIKE THAT. Surprisingly, Ken had been able to keep things under control. Even his comments to street paparazzis were concise, almost as if you were the one who coached him his lines. While you had expected him to do nothing, just as he suggested, you hadn’t expected him to last this long without an intervention from you. 

You sat by your window as your body sunk into your armchair, your eyes threatening to close. The early blue hues of the morning had started to break through the night sky, the clouds slowly parting to clear the sky. You typed vigorously against the keys of your laptop, eyes following the blinking cursor to prevent yourself from falling asleep right then and there. 

You had been up for hours constructing your updated résumé, keeping all your needed information concise and in one page. Despite having a well-rounded history in regards to jobs, the lingering fear of keeping yourself afloat was an inevitable burden you were scared of accidentally fulfilling. You had family, yes, but relying on them did something to your pride. Most especially since you had been low-contact ever since you abruptly moved to the city. 

Seeking help from friends was another option that was off the table. In all your years of working in the entertainment industry, the amount of people you had let into your life dwindled as you realized people’s true intentions. You had merely three people left in your life, and that was by far more than enough to keep you sane throughout the rest of your life.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Truth be told, despite the factor of having to deal with Ken, this job has been the best in terms of your benefits. He was much like you- little circle, low-contact. Even his own team was a limited number, leaving you to deal with other jobs and tasks that would otherwise be done by different people. Yes, the workload was tiring, but the pay was enough to keep you alive ten times over. You could only say a silent prayer to whoever was listening to bless you once more once you let go of this for good. 

You sat back, finally satisfied with the way your page was laid out. You faced towards your window, closing your eyes as your breathing steadied. The birds were starting to chirp, the sun casting a foggy glow through the clouds. In this moment of solitude, you allowed yourself to relax; it was more than deserved. Not like anything could happen in your sleep, right?

WRONG, SO VERY WRONG. You groaned as you were awakened by the continuous buzzing of your phone. At first you had thought it was an alarm you had accidentally forgotten to shut off, but when it continued on, you eventually had to force yourself to wake up.

The sun was high up now, bright rays peeking through your blinds. You squinted, uncurling yourself from your chair as you got up and stretched. You yawned, scratching your head as you finally unlocked your phone. You were greeted with an endless stream of notifications, your mail app and other social media platforms pinging by the second. There was also the factor of the loud noise outside, though you made it out to be some kind of commotion or parade. 

Your screen then flashed the caller ID of an unknown number, followed by another sea of notifications. You blink yourself awake, now slightly worried at just how much texts and emails you had been receiving. Did Ken do something? Did someone die? Did Ken die?

Before you could even open any of the messages, you hear the familiar ringtone of one of your closest friends. You slide to answer, pressing your phone up to your ear. “Ami? What’s up, what’s wrong?”

She laughed, and you could practically see her shaking her head at you. “I’m guessing you just woke up? Check literally any news outlet right now, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

What the hell was going on? You mumbled something in reply, putting her on speaker as you did what she asked. 

You wished you hadn’t. In bold, bright red letters, the article’s headline read:

Extra Innings in the Press Box: Ken Sato’s Hidden Romance with Assistant Revealed! 

What you saw next nearly had you chucking your phone into the nearest wall. Attached right under the headline was you and Ken. You and Ken. You let out a curse, and you could hear the sighs coming from Ami on the other line. The picture was clearly shot from a hidden vantage point, the branches from the trees blocking the camera proof of it. Despite the distance, though, yours and Ken’s faces were clearly visible. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, now fully awake eyes wide in confusion. “When was this released? H-How did-”

“Two hours ago. Apparently some passerby sold the picture to the press, and said passerby just happened to be paparazzi.” Ami cuts you off, her tone serious yet concerned. “Trust me, if I had known something like this was going to be released, I would’ve done something about it.”

You left your phone on the kitchen counter as you paced back and forth, your hand glued to your forehead as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Obviously it wasn’t true, you of all people knew that. But nobody else did, and that was the problem. 

“Ami what the hell is happening?” You manage to breathe out, still pacing. “This is all so-”

“Much? Yeah, I know.” She cuts you off again, and you can hear the bustling sounds from her office. “My own publisher is on my neck for this, God only knows what you’re going through. Are you okay? If you need help this could technically be classified as invasion of-”

“I do need help because this whole thing isn’t-” You start, but are ultimately cut off again when you hear the sounds grow louder outside. 

“[Y/N]? ‘You there?” Ami’s muffled voice calls out as you walk towards your window, peeking down to where the commotion was coming from. 

“Oh shit.” You gasp out, eyes widening even more as you realize the noises were coming from the sea of reporters and photographers waiting outside your townhouse. 

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the window with a hand to your mouth. This cannot be happening, this had to be some sick nightmare. Stumbling towards your phone, you mumbled some reply about needing to go before abruptly hanging up the call. Rude, perhaps, but Ami would understand. 

In the span of two hours of that damn article being released, eager and greedy gossip outlets had found your address and swarmed your only safe space. You held your phone close to your chest, running up to your room as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes once more, breathing in and out heavily. The more you tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, the more you slowly realized that it actually was. 

You opened your phone once more, muting all your socials and other messaging apps. You needed to think, and you needed to act fast. By memory, your fingers automatically scroll for Ken’s legal team. Having gotten him out of falsified defamations multiple times, acting during these types of situations was almost a second habit. But this didn’t involve just him, it involved you. You were a part of this mess, you couldn’t be the one to solve it.

A mantra of curses conjured up in your head, and you delete the previous number you had dialed in. Think, damnit. Think, think, think. You thought to yourself, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prayed for a solution to be presented to you. An alternative popped up into your brain then. Albeit that alternative was stupid, but it was something. 

You dialed his number, anxiously waiting as it rang. 

KEN WAS ON HIS BREAK, SITTING ON THE BENCH AS HE WIPED THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD. Playoffs were about to start, and Shimura was working them to the bone to make sure everyone had their head in the game. He let out a deep breath through his nose, arms resting on his knees as tried to calm down after a few laps around the stadium. The rest of his teammates seemed to be reacting obnoxiously over something, though he didn’t have the energy to feign enthusiasm. 

One of his teammates teasingly nudged him then, giving him a playful grin. “Your secret’s out, huh? All this time you were with her.”

Ken laughed it off, still oblivious to the fact that nearly all of Japan now knew the face of his supposed girlfriend. He noted the specification in his tone, as if he were referring to a mutual friend of theirs. Which, again, was impossible- nobody but you knew the secret he was hiding. He gave them a nod before returning back to his own space. 

He felt his watch buzz against his wrist, and he was all but surprised to see you calling him on your day off. He sat up straight then, grabbing his phone to answer the call. He had to admit, he answered a little too excitedly. Or nervously. He couldn’t differentiate the two, not when it involved you. Ever since the start of this stunt, something in him shifts whenever you or anything related to you gets mentioned. He brushed it off as some sort of familiarity attachment, the weight of your sudden resignation still heavy on his shoulders.

Was he sad to let you go? Maybe, he wasn’t entirely sure. Aside from the fact that he had Mina, you did your job well. You knew the ins and outs of everything he liked and disliked, you kept him organized and on track. Sure, losing you would be another hurdle he would have to get over, but that doesn’t mean he would be… impotent without you. He clears his throat before he finally brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hey-” He starts, but stops when he notices the frantic panic in your voice. “Woah, hey slow down. What happened?”

“You happened.” You reply then, albeit through a shaky breath. 

“What?” He questions, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s exactly as I said. You happened,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “And now I need your help. Please.”

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