#mundane life activities my beloved

[mr-malumm]

11/11 was official unofficial agent 1 day and therefore ma1um day so i drew me and the love of my life :))

[mononijikayu]

is it new years yet? — nanami kento.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now." "Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different." “My darling, behave.” “No <3” ".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, secret coworker romance, co-workers to lovers, romance, fluff, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, creampie, p to v sex, stairwell sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my darling, babe, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, actor! nanami kento, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 6k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the first fic of 2025!!! this was specifically written because of a conversation between me and @midnight-138 on the afternoon of december 31st 2024. i started progress while on a bus on the way to my grandma's house and for a bit on the 1st. i still wanted to write more for it, but i had to stop because i caught a cold. i still have a cold. and i need a massage cause i feel my body hurt real bad, cause its working hard to save my life from this cold TT TT

but that being said, i shouldn't complain too much. good things have been happening to me despite my problems. i hope that good things continue to come!!! anyway, enough yapping, i hope you enjoy this little fic. happy 2025!!! may good things, good health and happiness come your way always this year!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS ALWAYS LIKE THIS WHEN YOU AND KENTO GET TOGETHER. But it was to be expected, since you graced the screens since you were a child. Nanami Kento was like that too. Of course, it wasn’t something of a brag at all. It was just your normal.

You were lucky, you were favored like that. Kento was favored just like that. Both of you were so beloved. And especially so, in a way that they end up hoping that you both were together. 

Ever since you worked with him on Jujutsu Kaisen all those years ago, it was just too strong — the chemistry between the two of you. It pulls people in for more. They wanted a story, they wanted something that could ease their days from the mundane boredom that it was to the fun, exhilarating excitement that comes with the tea in both of your private lives.

You didn’t mind, your company didn’t mind either. Neither did Kento or his side of the aisle. It helped that you were both good friends. You had met even before landing your roles on Jujutsu Kaisen, after all. So, the ‘will they, won’t they’ between the two of you really did help your careers.

But of course, just like in Gege–sensei’s scripts, some parts are sentences with too many blank pages. And the wholeness of your relationship with Nanami Kento truly only belonged to you and him. And you were not willing to expose it to the world. Not just yet.

Yet — this does not stop them from trying to do something about that.

The studio buzzed with activity as you adjusted the earpiece in your ear, stealing a quick glance at the veteran actor, singer, producer, writer and entertainment personality that is Nanami Kento.

He stood near the stage, his posture relaxed yet impossibly refined. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie a subtle but elegant shade of deep blue,everything about him just exuded a quiet confidence that made it hard for anyone to look away. 

You, however, knew better than to let your gaze linger too long. You knew too well that those are reserved for just him and you to interpret and to see. No one else should. You were as possessive about your private moments as he was. But you would never say that outloud and neither will he.

“Can you believe these two again?” a stagehand whispered slowly, behind you. It was still, of course, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s like they were made for this. If they don’t end up together after tonight, I’ll lose faith in love. Really!”

You bit back a laugh, focusing on your notes. No one knew the truth, after all. That you and Kento were already together had been for a while now. Not even your publicists or managers — hell, not even your entertainment companies, knew that this was for genuine actuality, a real thing now. But you and him liked it that way.

You had let your fans go wild with their theories over the years of course. Every post, every comment, every little interaction, every collaboration, every press tour — almost everything seemed to spark a new wave of speculation and fan shipping. 

For years now, the internet was rife with hashtags like #OurSecretLovers and #MrAndMrsNanami with fans pouring over every detail like it's an investigatory report they were doing, a documentary study. You had to admit, it was amusing at times, watching people try to connect dots they couldn’t see. 

Nanami Kento had a reputation for being rather serious, because he gets roles in that league often. But he was a silly little man, well your silly little man. And he often had the knack for finding the most random, yet oddly endearing, posts about the two of you on Twitter. During your five-minute breaks between shoots, when you were in separate rooms or on different sets, his messages would pop up on your phone, accompanied by a link and a deadpan caption.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now."

"Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different."

“My darling, behave.”

“No <3”

".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

You’d giggle to yourself, your shoulders shaking as you tried not to draw attention. It didn’t matter how serious the production you were working on either. He had a way of making you laugh even from miles away. And that relaxes you a lot.

When it was your turn, you’d send him TikToks. Fancam edits of the two of you together had exploded in popularity as of late, especially since you both played a married couple who were spies deceiving each other recently. People thought he looked so good, especially when he had his shirt off. You loved teasing him about it. After all, he was really pretty hot in those scenes. And if you were being honest, they did in fact rile you up.

"Look at us, babe." you texted once, attaching a video with dramatic lighting, a love song playing over clips of you two stolen from interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. "We’re icons."

His reply came almost immediately: "Icons, sure. But I’m just a guy who got lucky enough to be yours, you know?"

Those words made your heart swell every time. He’d always been effortlessly humble, never letting fame or admiration inflate his ego, even as his star rose. After all, you were the senpai here—the darling of the Japanese screen since childhood. 

You’d grown up in the industry, your name synonymous with household stardom. He, on the other hand, had been a late bloomer, starting as a teenager and building his career with quiet determination.

He never let the difference in your status get in the way, though. If anything, it only made him more in awe of you. He’d often remind you how much he admired your grace, how you’d navigated the pressures of fame with a poise that still left him speechless.

“You’ve been dazzling audiences since you were a kid.” he’d say, his voice warm with pride. “I’m just lucky to share the screen with you now and your life.”

And you’d roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Kento. You’re a fan favorite for a reason.”

“Maybe.” he replied with a soft smirk. “But you’re my favorite. And that’s what matters.”

No matter how busy your schedules got, those small exchanges, be it a funny link or a sentimental text, every bit of this kept you connected. It reminded you both that beneath the glitz and glamour, what truly mattered was the quiet, enduring love you shared.

You were out of your bubble soon enough when Kento suddenly caught your eye from across the room, offering a small, reassuring smile and then a small gentle nod. You felt your cheeks turn red but lowered your head immediately before anyone was to notice. He was too good at making you feel like this. And certainly so, he was hiding his smirk under his cue cards.

“Alright, places, everyone!” the director called.

You finally stood up from your chair, taking a deep breath and calmed down. You gave yourself one more look in the mirror, trying to make sure that your cheeks were natural now. When you felt like it was, you smiled at your manager who handed you the mic and swiftly thanked them. You went to your position. Kento soon approached, his footsteps purposeful but unhurried. 

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” you replied, flashing him a smile.

You were grateful for the reassurance. Even if you were already such a big name, you still did get nervous. And even more so, with such a big show like this — the New Year Countdown, of course you could feel yourself slipping.

The two of you took your positions on stage as the lights dimmed and the opening music swelled. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he fixed himself up, your pinkies touching. Even briefly, you could feel the warmth. He did that on purpose. You could see it in his caramel eyes. 

You let a brief smile echo on your lips. You gathered yourself as the lift came up slowly. When you both were in the sight of the gathered audiences and the cameras started to broadcast it all live, you both slipped effortlessly into your roles. After all, you both were professionals.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this year’s New Year’s Eve Countdown!” you began, your voice bright and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for joining us as we bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.” Kento added, his tone smooth and polished.

Your banter flowed naturally, as always. That well beloved chemistry between you is still ever so undeniable. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him; he was your partner in every sense of the word. And that made your job tonight a little bit easier.

But of course, the real challenge was hiding the little moments that threatened to give you away that bit you kept so dear to you. You just can't help it when it comes to him. He has such a powerful pull on you and he knows it.

There were those little lingering glances, watching and feeling the way his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a card, the subtle softness in his smile when he looked at you. After all, this is the longest you could be together in your very busy schedules this year.

Still, you kept yourself in that cage. And so did he, despite his lack of patience when it comes to you and everything about you. As the night progressed, the energy in the studio grew electric.

Various music performances lit up the stage, and interviews with special guests kept the crowd engaged. Throughout it all, you and Kento remained the perfect duo—professional, poised, and completely in sync.

After nearly a few hours of composure, it came almost all too suddenly. In just a few moments, the final countdown approached, and the excitement was palpable. The two of you stood at the center of the stage, along with the other participants for this year’s event. In front of you, the crowd behind you cheering wildly, waiting excitedly for the new year.

“Here we go!” you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

Kento leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing great, darling..”

Your heart fluttered, but you kept your composure. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, babe.”

The countdown soon began.

You took a breath, looking at the screen.

You held your cue cards tightly to you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The lights soon dimmed, and the giant screen behind you displayed the numbers as they ticked down. The crowd’s voices grew louder with each second. The emotions coming through you were indescribable. Another year had gone by. But he was still by your side, like this. And all you could pray for as the time passed into a new age — that you would always be together.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Confetti soon rained down, and the studio erupted in cheers. You turned toward Kento, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you disappeared. The look in his caramel eyes was unmistakable—warm, tender, and filled with a quiet pride that made your chest tighten.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and you both turned back to the crowd, waving and smiling as the cameras captured every angle. People of course started to pay less attention to you both and the stage and more onto the fireworks now blurring the sky with its bright hues. You and Kento made a steady exit off the stage. 

“Another successful project, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence as you leaned against the wall.

Kento smirked faintly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to loosen his tie. “They’ll be talking about this for weeks, you know?”

“And shipping us even harder, hm.” you added with a laugh.

“They’ll never know, though.” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You stepped closer, your hand finding his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the simple gesture grounding you in a way nothing else could. “They don’t need to, babe.” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “This is ours.”

Kento’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Happy New Year, my darling.”

“Happy New Year.” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You had thought it would end there, sweet and innocent. You had thought you both were safe for one more year. But when you two are together after a long time…..it was a whole new animal. And nothing can stop such a wave in high tide from occupying something whole. 

The next tithing you know is that the internet exploded the moment the photos dropped. Headlines blared across every platform, hashtags like #FINALLYOMG and #NewYearNewScandal trending within minutes after they were taken.

The pictures were pretty damning. They were blurry but unmistakably you, disheveled and wrapped in Nanami’s coat, your hair a mess. And him? A rare sight indeed.

It was none other than Nanami Kento, usually the epitome of composure, looking uncharacteristically undone. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the telltale bruises blooming on his neck left little to the imagination.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the coffee table as you buried your face in your hands. Beside you, Kento sat unbothered, calmly sipping his tea like the world wasn’t on fire—or at least your career’s PR team.

“I told you we should’ve been more careful, babe.” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quivering into a teasing smile. “You were the one who couldn’t wait with it, y'know?” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with an elegant clink.

His tone was infuriatingly calm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Who was it again, begging me to fill you up? By round two, you were going—‘Kento, I need you. Right here. Right now.’ and I was happy to heed the request like always.”

Your scarlet blush was immediate, your head snapping up to glare at him. “Kento!” you hissed, glancing around the living room as if someone could overhear, even though it was just the two of you. “Not helping!”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with the air of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m just stating the facts about, I'm the same.” he said with a shrug, his smirk widening as you shot him another flustered look. "That's not a bad thing."

Your phone buzzed again on the table, your manager’s name flashing on the screen. You sighed, picking it up only to immediately huff and toss it back down. “This is really…” you trailed off, searching for the right word but settling on a frustrated groan instead.

“Chaotic? Consequential? Hilarious?” Kento offered, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You shot him a glare that was far more affectionate than threatening. “Horrible. That’s the word. This is horrible.”

He chuckled, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on your knee. “Darling, it’s not the end of the world. Scandal or not, we’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say.” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Your team probably thinks this is great publicity for your brooding, mysterious heartthrob image. Meanwhile, I’m the one getting texts about how unprofessional it looks for ‘Japan’s sweetheart’ to be caught sneaking around with hickeys and wearing her boyfriend’s coat.”

“Unprofessional?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “It’s not like we committed a crime. We’re adults in a committed relationship. And in any case my darling....….” he added, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You look adorable in my coat.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me. Very much." he quipped, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, instead letting your head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Next time, though….really.....” you muttered. “We’re finding a stairwell without photographer cameras.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Noted.”

As you leaned against your lover, the memory hit you both like a freight train, vivid and unrelenting. It had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could between the two of you. The countdown show had gone off without a hitch, and the studio was still buzzing with post-show chaos. 

You both talked for a bit, had a cute moment and then went back to your professional mode when everyone started to surround you both again. It was like a switch, and it was easy. No one suspected a thing.

You went ahead into the dressing room, you talked with everyone. You’d been polite and professional, thanking the crew and chatting with some of the guests. But the moment Nanami Kento had caught your eye as you left the green room, something in his caramel gaze had made your pulse quicken.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Between his packed schedule and yours, the countdown project had been the only excuse to be in the same room together. The public facade you maintained only added to the frustration. Every fleeting touch, every shared look—it all built up, an unbearable tension neither of you could ignore.

So, when he’d quietly grabbed your hand and guided you down a quiet, rarely-used stairwell in the building when no one was looking, you hadn’t protested. You were excited, happy even. This was the chance to feel him again this close to you. 

And you were glad for that opportunity. You could feel his touch be so genuine and warm despite the heavy chill in the air, and the firm grip of his fingers around yours sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Darling, I missed you, really.” he murmured as soon as you were alone.

His voice low and rough, filled with a longing that made your knees weak. His hands cupped your face with a reverence that always left you breathless, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was searing, his lips melding with yours as though it had been an eternity since your last stolen moment together.

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin, but his touch set you alight. His coat had slipped from his shoulders in a quiet, unspoken gesture, draped over yours as his lips moved to your neck. The kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and deliberate, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin before his teeth grazed your pulse.

“Kento, babe….” you gasped, your voice trembling from a mix of the frigid air and the heat of his attention. Your fingers clutched the lapels of his suit, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations.

“Shh, just enjoy it......” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. 

His hands slid down your sides, firm but gentle as they gripped your thighs. Without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the wall. The rough texture scraped against your coat, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his body pressed into yours.

His strength always caught you off guard, even after all this time together. Your eager legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he stepped between them, his body fitting against yours like a missing piece.

“Babe!” you breathed again, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

He kissed you like a man starved, his lips leaving your neck to reclaim your mouth. The intensity of it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him. He was hungry, perhaps even more than you were. But you had expected that. He has a habit of yearning to touch you a lot.

“I hate not being able to touch you, with all the schedules we fucking had.” he muttered against your skin, the words tinged with frustration and longing. “Hated every fucking minute of it……”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you tugged him closer. “Then don’t stop, babe.” you whispered, the plea soft but desperate. “Cause….I need you badly too. I need you so bad in me—”

He growled softly, the sound rumbling against your throat as his touch shifted. One hand remained steady on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, while the other slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers were deliberate, pushing aside the delicate lace of your panties with practiced ease.

When his fingers slipped through your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall. He groaned softly, the sound low and satisfied as he gathered your arousal, his touch teasing and unhurried.

“You’re already so ready for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers moved with precision, finding the spot that made you arch into him.

The cold air around you was a stark contrast to the heat building between you, the quiet of the stairwell broken only by your uneven breaths and his whispered praises. It was reckless, indulgent, and utterly intoxicating—just like him.

“Kento, babe….oh!” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers continued their unrelenting rhythm. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure began to build within you.

“Shh, darling.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear before trailing back to your neck. His voice was low and soothing, laced with a quiet intensity that only made your pulse race faster. “You’ll have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape as he added a second finger. The stretch was delicious, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing you higher with every stroke. His thumb brushed over your sensitive bud, and your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s my good little lover, hm? My only beloved darling.” he murmured, his praise sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “So perfect for me.”

Your fingers slid up into his messy blond hair, tugging gently as your body arched against him. The rough texture of the wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the soft warmth of his touch, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Kento, please, b–babe….oh!” you breathed, the words barely audible as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. “M–more…..more!”

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient, aren’t you? Greedy too.” he teased, though his fingers quickened their pace, curling just right to hit the spot that made your breath hitch. “I missed seeing you like this, so needy for me.”

The heat pooling in your core intensified, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “I’m—” you began, but the words dissolved into a strangled gasp as he pressed his thumb harder against your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, pretty for me, so fucking pretty." He says, coaxing you like a pied piper. His voice was low and intoxicating. Everything about it just burns you as much as his touch did. "I’ve got you. Always.”

With one final stroke, the beautiful echo, that blossoming coil inside you just snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body tensed, your thighs tightening around his waist as you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the cry that escaped your lips.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as your body shook with aftershocks. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his lips pressing soothing kisses against your temple.

When you finally relaxed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction that made your chest tighten.

“Better?” he asked, his tone light but tinged with affection.

You nodded, still too dazed to form words. He chuckled, adjusting his hold on you as he gently set you back on your feet. Your legs wobbled like jello against him, and he immediately steadied you, his hands firm but gentle on your waist.

“Careful, darling.” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, babe.” you managed, your voice breathless but steady. “More than fine.”

His lips quivered into a soft smile, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”

As the reality of your surroundings sank back in, you couldn’t help but glance around, the abandoned stairwell suddenly feeling far less private. “We should… probably get back, babe.” you said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s getting pretty late.”

He followed your gaze, his expression calm and unbothered. “Let them wonder where we went.” he said simply, shrugging off the concern as he adjusted his coat around your shoulders. "It's none of their business."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the mischievous glint in his eyes stopped you cold. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he was guiding you gently back against the wall. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, igniting the fire he’d only begun to stoke. His hands trailed down your sides, their warmth chasing away the chill of the stairwell as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Kento, babe.” you murmured, a weak attempt to regain your composure, but he silenced you with a kiss that left no room for argument. 

“I missed you, a damn whole lot.” he said, his voice low and filled with longing as his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly once more. "Like I always do."

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heart pounding as the desire you’d both tried to suppress flared back to life. He pressed against you, the hardness of his arousal undeniable even through the fabric of his pants. The teasing grind of his hips against yours drew a gasp from your lips, and he smirked, his composure slipping just enough to show his need.

"Really....." Kento effortlessly whispered to you, his voice vibrating onto you like a wave crashing onto you at sea. "We shouldn't schedule much this New Year, hm? So we can be together."

"Hm.....Kento." You echo back to him, intoxicated by his touch. "'ake time....for me, okay? I'll.....I'll do the same."

“That's the plan already, you know?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he shifted, his hands tugging at the barriers between you. “Let me take care of you, like I always do.”

Soon after that, you could feel the wet, thick head of his member pressed against your entrance, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as he began to push in slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent.

It was too good, too damn easy to fall into a high to. You could feel the stretch inside of you, it made you so full. Everything about it was intoxicating, your body yielding to him as he filled you inch by inch, your walls clinging to every part of him like he was made to fit. 

It was like he was trying to make a home inside of it. Inside of you. And it just made you feel so good. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he buried himself deeper.

“Darling.” he muttered, his voice strained and low. “You feel so perfect.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as your body adjusted to the delicious fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, the slight ache quickly giving way to a heat that spread through your entire body.

“Kento.” you breathed, the sound a mix of plea and surrender.

His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, the motion slow but unyielding. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and the friction only made you crave more.

“God, this is so…..you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with need. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go slow like this with you.”

“Don’t, babe.” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back.”

His carmel eyes darkened almost instantly at your words, a flicker of something primal overtaking his usual control. With a growl, he began to move in earnest, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the stairwell, a symphony of shared desire that neither of you could hold back.

The rough texture of the wall behind you only heightened the sensation, grounding you as he took you apart piece by piece. You could feel your back burn against the concrete wall as you throw your head back against it. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his body claimed yours.

“Darling, my pretty baby darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged and desperate. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, babe. Yours….O–oh…only! Only yours!” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as he kissed along your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

The coil in your core once more tightens with every spark you feel as he pushes deeper over and over in a fast pace. Everything about the pleasure you feel keeps building to an almost unbearable peak. It just felt too good. He felt too good.

His pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as his control began to slip. One hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing it in quick, precise circles.

You cried out, your body arching into him as the tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly around him as your release tore through you.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m close!” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he shuddered against you, his body going taut as he spilled himself inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your shared, labored breathing, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your thighs and waist, grounding you both.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern despite the lingering haze of pleasure in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gently setting you back on your feet. His hands remained steady on your waist, holding you as your legs wobbled beneath you. You leaned into him, your breath uneven, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired.

But that wasn’t the end of it, of course. 

The hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded, and neither had yours. The raw desire that simmered between you was far from sated, and you both knew it. Kento’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing soft, teasing circles against your hips as he studied your flushed face. 

“I just think that I…..” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “I still want more.”

You barely had time to process his words before your lover’s lips were on yours again, roughly consuming you in a kiss that was as demanding as it was all encompassing. Your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Your body instinctively responds to the magnetic pull of his, over and over.

“We shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, though your voice lacked conviction. “It’s going to make people suspicious.”

“Probably not.” he agreed, his smirk returning as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, trailing up your thighs. “But repercussions are damned when we’re hungry. I can’t stop. I know you won’t too..”

The wall pressed against your back once more as he claimed you all over again, the cool stairwell air doing nothing to cool the fire that raged between you. It was reckless, but neither of you cared. Not here, not now. Hunger demanded to be fed, and with Nanami Kento, you were always insatiable.

After a while, you were both removed from the plane of normalcy and you were both panting with joyous weariness. He presses a kiss against your jaw as you keep a steady bite on his neck. He grumbles against you as he gathers himself from seeing stars. You follow him soon after. You released his neck and started kissing his lips once more. 

When you both found yourself satisfied, you both started to make yourselves as presentable as possible. Well, at least what remains presentable and salvageable for both of you. Kento ripped too much of your outfit as much as you did. Still, you both did not care. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his tone tender as he placed his coat on your shoulders and adjusted it tenderly on you, to keep you warm. “I’ll call my car and then we’ll just hop in there. We’ll go to my hotel, okay?”

You nodded again, your cheeks flushing as the reality of your surroundings began to sink in. But as he laced his fingers with yours and led you back toward the main building, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of contentment.

Of course, things too did not go the way you both wanted once again. You didn’t know that there were many SNS photographers  and gossip journalists waiting to catch some other celebrity in that area where Kento’s car was going to be. And that’s just how you were caught, not thinking about the logistics of it all. 

But how could you? It was New Years. 

You just got mindlessly blown with really, really, really good sex.

And you were together once again with your lover.

How could you think about anything else after all that? 

Now, back in the present, the two of you sat in the quiet of your shared apartment. Nanami Kento’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your frazzled nerves. You sighed, looking up to your lover who presses a kiss on your forehead.

“You know this is going to be everywhere, babe.” you said, gesturing toward your phone.

He set his tea down and leaned back, regarding you with a look of quiet amusement. “Let them talk, darling. It was bound to happen eventually.”

You groaned. “Eventually I didn't need to include hickeys and a ruined coat. And oh god….. was I leaking your cum?” 

You took your phone once again to inspect, but your lover took your phone with his free hand and put it away. You looked at him, almost sulky as one would look as a child. He laughs. He presses another kiss on your hair. Kento couldn’t help but smirk. Both acts had made your heart skip a beat. 

“You look good in my coat though. I could hardly care if my cum was dripping out, darling.” he said simply. “I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous. You mauled my neck so happily after that first round.”

“You  do look like you’ve been ravaged.” you shot back, though your cheeks burned at the memory. “I mean, it made sense at the time….I was hungry.”

“Hm, I don’t blame you.”

You sighed. “We’ll contact our PR and everyone later, okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm.”  he said softly, his voice filled with the steady reassurance you’d always loved about him. “We’ll be fine, okay? I don’t care as long as I am with you.”

You sighed, leaning into his warm touch. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze warm. “I don’t mind. As long as we're happy together, I say let them say whatever they want.”

You blinked at him. “You think so?”

“Hm.” He smiles at you. “Because no one will truly know who you are to me. That’s only mine. They’ll have a headline, but I’ll have the whole spreadsheet.”

You feel like your heart is melting with his tenderness. “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your lips, smiling wider at you.

And just like that, the storm outside felt a little less overwhelming.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 188 }

wrapped around your finger.

kenji (ken) sato x fem.reader

warnings: currently unedited; alcohol mention.

dedicated tags: @luneariaa since she adores kenji sato 🥰

{ you keep me wrapped around your finger | wrapped around your finger | i was caught up in your orbit | spinnin' like a bullet | i was wrapped around your finger | wrapped around your finger | then i shot back down to earth… }

there was a boredom felt coursing through your veins, and despite how you were living in a country where superheroes and monsters existed, it wasn’t enough to spice up your lackluster life (unless you counted running for your life when these said monsters appeared, but you digress).

you were a young woman living in the heart of tokyo, working a simple 9 to 5 job as you came home to your cozy, one bedroom apartment. it was a mundane life, filled with your usual routine-

but every once in a while, when a giant kaiju was seen within your city, your life would take a turn for the worse as you had to run to avoid any collateral damage caused by ultraman and his less than savvy way of defending the country.

you had no idea what had happened to the beloved hero. one moment, he was as competent as can be, always successfully leading the kaijus safely out of the city with minimal effort-

and the next, ultraman would actively be struggling to defend the city from these attacks, more often than not causing the k.d.f. to enter the scene and clean up the mess made by the struggling ‘superhero.’

on several occasions, you considered leaving the country of japan to move to a more peaceful part of the world void of any kaiju attacks, but with how badly the current ultraman was doing, (and knowing your luck), the monsters would probably end up invading all parts of the world.

so, you decided to save yourself the hassle and simply stayed in tokyo.

currently, you were eating a simple meal of cup noodles, seeing the time read 8:16pm. while slurping up your noodles, you kept changing the channels on your t.v., the boredom felt seeping into your very soul as it made you a bit listless. a yawn escapes from your parted lips, with tears felt running down your cheeks. letting out an annoyed grunt, you slam down your half eaten cup of instant noodles, your gaze burning with a strange determination to finally get out of your apartment.

"how pathetic can i be, anyways? it's a friday night, and i'm here eating instant ramen like a loser."

you grumble while speaking to yourself, heading into your room to find a cute outfit to wear before heading out. the night seemed calm, with zero monster attacks, and with the lack of monster attacks meant that you wouldn't be witnessing the pure incompetence of ultraman.

when you were dressed cutely while wearing a light sheen of makeup, you grabbed your purse and placed the essentials within it: your keys, cellphone, and wallet. ready to have the absolute night of your life, you finally left the confines of your apartment after what felt like centuries.

the warm, spring air brought the scent of cherry blossoms as you walked with a bounce in your step across the sidewalk. you weighed your options of what you could do tonight, yet ultimately settled on getting some drinks at a bar somewhere. and who knows? maybe you'll attract some guy and have him pay for all your drinks the whole night. it's not like you had work the next day, so you were going to let loose tonight and allow yourself to enjoy whatever the night had to offer.

you enter the first bar that you saw, walking in with a smile on your face as you slide towards a free space seen on the counter. the bartender greets you with a nod while asking for what you'd like. you tell him your favorite drink, and before you could say anything else, you were aware of a tall man that stands beside you, sliding what appeared to be his sleek black credit card across the marble counter.

"put it on my tab, i'll take care of her."

you could feel your eyebrows raise up in response, meeting the man with the cocky voice as he takes a seat beside you. he was handsome, with ebony locks of hair and matching eyes coupled along with an even cockier smirk.

"what's a cutie like you doing here all alone?" his arrogant tone and manner of speaking was enough to make you want to shut him out, with you grabbing the cold glass of your drink before taking copious gulps from it.

"whoa, sweetheart, you might want to take it easy. don't want you getting sick after one drink."

"i'm sorry, but who the hell are you again?"

your question succeeds in making the gorgeous annoying man do a double take, clearly caught off guard by your question before visibly relaxing once more. a lazy sounding chuckle was heard from him as he extends a hand out to you, "my apologies for being rude, i'm ken sato, but you may also know me as the sole man that will make history in baseball."

you feign disinterest, acting like you had no idea who he was just to knock him down a peg or two. "sorry, i'm not sure who you are. i'm aware of how there are many baseball teams, but your name has never once come up."

ken ends up letting out a painful grunt while dramatically clutching at the front of his chest. "my lady, you wound me."

you hold back the urge to roll your eyes at him, managing to finish your drink as you thanked the bartender for his time before getting out of your seat and away from ken. seeing the way his gaze widens at the sight of your retreating figure, he quickly takes back his card from the bartender before chasing after you.

"oi, don't you think it's a little rude to leave without at least telling me your name?" you purse your lips upon witnessing his persistence, already hearing the smirk in his voice as he catches up to you. due to his long legs, he manages to reach you within seconds, the lazy grin still on his face as he saunters beside you. "come on, babe, don't leave me hanging."

"don't call me babe, sato."

"heh, i won't as long as you give me your name, babe."

you stopped walking, meeting his shit-eating grin as you folded your arms across your chest. letting out a gentle huff, you finally tell him the syllables that made up your name, watching as ken's smile grew even wider, happy that he was victorious.

ken steps closer to you, brushing back a few strands of your hair while repeating your name a few times, as if wishing to taste them against his lips. you felt your eyes go wide when his handsome features lean closer to you-

only to freeze completely when a beeping sound was heard coming from his watch. from your periphery, you saw it glow an almost painful shade of red, nearly blinding you from how bright it was compared to the darkness of the night.

"shit, i gotta go!"

as you were left absolutely dumbfounded in the middle of the street, the sudden roar of a kaiju's cry followed by the brightness of ultraman's suit was what finally broke you out of your reveries as you let out a string of curses while running back home to your apartment.

i should have just stayed home. you thought to yourself in an almost bitter manner, feeling angry when you couldn't seem to get the image of ken's stupidly handsome face from your mind.

{ ... }

it had been a couple of months since your first meeting with the egotistical ken sato, and you were happy to see him get some well deserved karma.

for starters, each time he was in a game with his team, the giants, ken was the one who seemed to struggle the most. (you tell yourself the reason you watched his games was because you wanted to laugh at him, not because you held the tiniest bit of concern for him.)

he still kept up his cocky personality, but you could tell that he was exhausted. the dark circles seen beneath his pale skin became more prominent as his body appeared to be a bit more gaunt than usual. it was obvious that he was losing weight, and you feared for both his physical and mental health.

but truly, regardless of how much concern you had for him, it wasn't like you could just go up to his house and check up on him. since he was technically a celebrity, you were certain that even he had some set amount of boundaries set in place.

in the end, you decided to simply mind your own business, not wishing to disrupt kenji sato's life-

at least, for now.

{ ... }

it was currently your day off, and you had kept your t.v. on to a random channel when you heard the announcement;

"don't change that channel, since after our commercial break, we will head to ms. ami wakita with her first exclusive interview with the star of the giants, kenji sato himself!"

hearing those words makes you stop wiping at your countertops, your head tilted in response to the announcement. admittedly, work and your own personal life had distracted you from keeping up with the news pertaining to ken sato. you had kept the baseball player in the back of your mind, and truly felt curious about this interview.

wiping the slight sweat from your brow with a handkerchief, you let out a sigh before grabbing a bottle of water from your fridge, uncapping it as you nearly drained half of the bottle with your fervent gulps. letting out a sigh of satisfaction, you return to your couch just as the interview between ami wakita and ken began.

to say that you were absolutely shocked upon seeing ken again would be the understatement of the century. not only did he appear better (aside from what you assumed was a broken arm), but there was a kindness seen in his gaze. he spoke softly and respectfully in reply to each and every one of wakita's questions, and you found yourself becoming mesmerized by the tranquility of his voice.

your eyes were glued to the screen of your television, watching ami as she continued along with her interview.

"you've proved the skeptics wrong, brought the team together and rallied the giants to their first championship title in years. that's got to feel good."

"haha, i can't take the credit, it was this team- these guys. i'm just happy to be a part of it."

“earlier, i spoke with shimura who said 'ken sato might be the finest player i have ever coached. he exemplifies what it means to be a giant.'

many critics, including myself, have noticed a change. what do you attribute that to?”

“i wouldn’t be here without my family, simple as that. my dad, mom, they made this possible. i just wish she could be here to see it.”

“i’m sure she’d be proud.” wakita reassures ken with a genuine smile on her face.

ken takes a moment, adjusting himself on his seat before taking out his phone.

“she used to leave these messages, little things to help me get through tough times. mind if i share?”

wakita simply nods in response, allowing ken to press play on his phone as his mother's voice was heard:

"kenji, you're probably not even up yet, but i was thinking about you and i wanted to share a little list of hopes. i hope that you'll give your father a chance. whether you believe it or not he loves you with all his heart. i hope you'll understand us better- understand that we were just trying to prepare you for all the challenges headed your way.

and as time passes, and we fade into memory, i hope that you'll pass some of those memories, some of those lessons along. because in the end, it was all done with love, kiddo. i miss you. see you soon."

your eyes began to water, feeling the tears well up from within them after hearing such a heartfelt message. wishing to pull yourself together, you wipe away at your tears and shut off the television screen. your heart was felt glowing with a strange warmth, recalling ken's kind smile during such a heartfelt interview-

was this the same ken sato you interacted with all those months ago?

no; the pompous ken you had first met was merely a mask he had made for himself. the ken that spoke to wakita- now that was his true self. you were certain of it now.

deep down, you knew that you probably would never see him again, yet still, you couldn't help but feel immensely happy for him. there was a kindness and a light seen in his gaze now, making your prior worries pertaining to him melt away in response.

{ ... }

despite how the kaiju attacks still occurred, the world surrounding you seemed much more peaceful now-

especially since it seemed like ultraman had finally gotten his shit together.

his gigantic form walked with more confidence now, as he was able to send each wandering kaiju back into the depths of the ocean and away from the city of tokyo. his popularity has spiked yet again, especially after his heroic actions seen when he shielded the city from a bomb that was meant to take out what seemed like the entirety of the country.

altogether, you felt considerably safer now while living in this city.

once you clocked out of your job, you figured you could treat yourself to a nice restaurant, searching through your phone for some places nearby. you were so focused on searching for the best restaurant to eat at that you were unaware of the tall man standing in front of you, making your form collide with his as the impact left you gasping a bit.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!"

"heh, don't worry about it, pretty lady."

your eyes go wide, recognizing that casual voice anywhere as you looked up to see a pair of gentle, dark eyes looking down at you. his face was partially covered by a baseball cap, but the way his hair fell across his face (further accentuating his handsome features) was a dead giveaway.

"ken...!"

you had no idea what prompted you to do this, but you couldn't stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck. feeling your sudden embrace catches ken off guard as he takes a step back, steadying himself when he wraps an arm around you.

"hey, it's good to see you again, too." a rich chuckle was heard coming from him, and you found yourself trembling in response. hearing him speaking to you so gently now filled you with an inexplicable warmth. recalling his injury, you gasp and take a step back, "i'm so sorry, i forgot about your arm!"

"no worries, look." ken then holds up both of his hands in response, "see? i'm all healed. no harm no foul, really."

you felt the heat dye against your cheeks, clearly flustered now while speaking to this achingly sweet and soft version of ken sato. "t-thank you, really. uhm, so... like, i was wondering... ah..."

you found yourself struggling to get the words out, making ken look down at you while placing both hands into the pockets of his jeans. he waits for you to continue speaking, and you let out a deep breath before continuing, "i'm sorry, for being a bit cold to you when we first met-"

yet ken cuts off your apology by holding his hand up, "don't be, i was a complete and total asshole to you. you had every right to be annoyed with me, and honestly, no offense taken when the cold shoulder was well deserved."

you both end up laughing at the memory, taking a second to bask in the moment before you spoke once more, "listen, i was going to head out somewhere to eat dinner. would you like to join me?"

ken's eyes go wide as he gives you an eager nod, "would i like to join you? hell yes i would like to join you. did you have somewhere planned?"

you shake your head in response, "not exactly, but i figured we could decide together, maybe?"

a wide grin was then seen on ken's face, "are you in the mood for some amazing tonkatsu? if so, i know the perfect place."

"yes! i don't mind some tonkatsu at all!"

"perfect." ken then takes a hold of your hand, walking beside you as he remains on the side closest to traffic while striding across the sidewalk with you. by now, your heart was felt skipping its beats when you softly called out his name.

"hm?" ken faces you, and you gathered your courage before standing closer to him to press a kiss against his cheek. the kiss was a quick one, barely lasting a second before you immediately stepped away from him. you felt the heat return to your cheeks once more, catching the way ken touches at the spot where you had kissed him with his hand.

another rich chuckle was heard coming from him before he tells you, "you missed."

"eh?!" you turn around to face him again, only to see ken slowly turning his baseball cap around before leaning closer to you with a smile on his face.

"i said... you missed." finally understanding what he meant, you felt your gaze slowly narrow before closing your eyes completely, allowing ken's lips to meet with yours in a sweet kiss, setting your heart aflame with adoration for him as you gently kissed him back, completely and utterly engrossed in your own little world with him.

a.n. - so i just finished watching ultraman: rising just a mere few hours ago and had to write something for the new boyfriend material 😭 ken sato is so sweet and cute, and i get why he has tumblr in a chokehold right now. this is unedited, but i hope you readers still enjoy this!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[mdzsxperience]

☾ Lan Wangji's names etymology

Here's a complete post on the etymology of our beloved Lan Wangji's various names. I've always appreciated how authors would give out names that fit their characters so well, which is why I chose to share this.

▷ Lan Wangji Master Profile.

Birth Name - Lan Zhan 藍湛

Lan 藍 (lán) – blue. In Chinese, Lan 藍 is literally blue.

Zhan 湛 (zhàn) – clear, deep. In Chinese, Zhan 湛 from 湛蓝 (zhànlán), azure blu

Lan Zhan’s formal name Zhan 湛 means deep or clear, without impurities. It is often prefixed to the front of the word “blue” to describe the color of sunny cloudless skies, azure. Wangji’s birth name 湛 (zhàn) derives from the 诗经 (Classic of Poetry), one of the Chinese ‘Five Classics’ dating back to the Zhou Dynasty and a core pillar of Confucian thinking, studied by scholars to this day. The common meanings of this word are “deep” or “crystal clear”. The phrase 湛清 (zhànqīng) is often used to describe a transparent personality or state of mind that is in its purest form, with no distractions or obscurities. The name is really perfect for Wangji, as the phrase 湛深 (zhànshēn) can be used to describe a person displaying profound knowledge and/or mastery of skills in a complex field. 精湛 (jingzhàn) also means to be deeply proficient and skilled at something, normally used to address masters and pioneers. Interestingly, 湛 has another pronunciation, dān, which means “happiness” or “indulgence”. A third, rarer way of pronouncing the word is chén, which means “to sink” or “to make extinct”. I think the multifaceted nature of the character 湛 perfectly embodies the deep and complicated being that resides within Wangji.

Birth name is rarely used by anyone other than close family members, teachers, and elders in the family, clan, or sect. Using it implies either a certain type of intimacy or a certain type of seniority over the person being spoken to. Side Note: The fact that Wei Wuxian addresses Lan Wangji as Lan Zhan so early on in their acquaintance would be considered rude.

Courtesy Name - Lan Wangji 忘機

Wangji 忘机 (wàngjī) – to be free of worldly concerns (a Daoist phrase) Wang 忘 means to forget. It may have negative connotations in English because it’s associated with a passive disease and loss of treasured memories. In Chinese, actively forgetting can also be a positive renunciation of worldly troubles, so the character is somewhat more romantic than an English speaker would assume. Ji 機 / 机 is typically used in common speech to refer to machines, mechanical things, opportunities, and worldly things that have many parts intricately connected with each other. In more metaphysical discussions, it implies the intertwined destinies and sophistication of the mundane. To forget the secular calculations and intricacies of the world is to live freely and without distractions; as an antonym of precision, it has heavy Taoist flavors because of its seclusive connotations.

There’s an interesting story behind Lan Wangji’s name. It comes from the last line of a poem by acclaimed Chinese poet Li Bai. The sentence reads “我醉君复乐 陶然共忘机” (wǒ zuì jūn fù lè, táo rán gòng wàng jī), which translates to “I become drunk and you’re merry; in our happiness we forget about all worldly matters”. In my mind, this scene perfectly brings to life Xianxian enjoying a jar of Emperor’s Smile with Wangji in the Cloud Recesses after his resurrection when he is no longer concerned with the vanities of the world. “Wangji” is a Taoist phrase that means “to hold oneself aloof from the world”. The direct translation is “to forget about worldly crafts”. Chinese fans often describe him as “一尘不染” (meaning not be soiled with even a particle of dust) and “不食人间烟火” (a Taoist phrase now used to describe a person who has otherworldly qualities, who does not associate himself with ordinary temporal matters).

The courtesy name, in The Untamed, is given early on. In many wuxia/xianxia novels, characters don’t receive their courtesy name until they are adults. This is a name friends, acquaintances, and peers (those of equal standing) use.

Title - Hanguang Jun 含光君

Hanguang Jun 含光君 (Hánguāng-jūn) 含 (hán) – to hold, to bring 光 (guāng) – light 君 (jūn) – honorific for a gentleman or man or noble character

Hanguang Jun is a title that praises Lan Zhan’s integrity. Jun 君 is a character (literally “lord”) with multiple meanings, but here it is attached to the end of a name to show respect. Wangji’s title directly translates to “noble bearer of light”. 含光 (hánguāng) is also the name of one of three of the most powerful swords in Chinese history/mythology, said to have been under the care of Shang Dynasty emperors. Its blade is described to be invisible, and a mortal cannot see it being wielded with their bare eyes. Later interpretations during the Warring States period described the three swords as symbolic stages of a person’s journey to finding the Taoist path, with Han Guang being the final stage of ‘preparedness to enter the Way’ (入道合体之状). The characters HanGuang 含光 separately and literally mean “hold/envelops light”, and in the novel, it is taken from a widely circulated legend about several of the main characters, which specifically goes like this about Lan Zhan: 景行含光藍忘機 (JingXing HanGuang Lan WangJi). The first two characters are taken from an ancient collection of poems, and describe a person of upright and faultless disposition. The next two characters, Han Guang, refer to a harboring of light. For me, it’s not the light part that’s interesting, but the state of harboring that defines the most significant cultural nuances. It is (or at least was) considered a form of virtue in China if you don’t flaunt your brightness in other people’s eyes; so the polite thing to do, if you’re brilliant as flames, is to shield that light so you aren’t so in-your-face about it.

The title is just what it says on the box. It is used to express respect, but also a certain amount of distance.  Side Note: The young disciples of the Gusu Lan call Lan Wangji Hanguang-Jun because it would be disrespectful for them to address him as Lan Wangji, as they are not of equal standing. When Wei Wuxian returns from the Burial Mounds, he addresses Lan Wangji as Hanguang-Jun because he wants to distance himself from their earlier intimacy to prevent being questioned about his methods. 

Extra thought:

I must give props to Lan Wangji’s actor Wang Yibo. Early reactions from the Chinese audience had some unfavorable reviews that criticized his lack of facial expressions, but later retracted their opinions, because they realized that he was actually doing a superb job with his eyes and his body, considering the limitations. The script gives him very few lines in most episodes. You can see how he looks directly at anyone in the eye unless he’s about to kill you, or (later on) if you’re Wei Ying. If you don’t know him well, he seems unconfrontational with those cold shielded eyes, but as soon as you step over the line (sometimes a line named Wei Ying), you’ll feel the sharpness of that fierce light in his eyes like a blade to your throat. Just ask Fairy the spiritual dog...

Author Note: I am not an expert in Chinese at all, English isn't my native language either - I hope everything is correct.

▷ MDZS Home Page

[ completed ; 17/07/2024]

★ ⁺. ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა ˖⁺‧₊˚

[l0v3tast3]

This randomly came to my brain but, what do you think Gaz would be like as a husband?

GAZ BRAINROT !!! arizona ily thank u for reminding me of my love for kyle garrick <<33 here's some pure fluff, he's just so easy to write it for o(>ω<)o gaz is definitely one of my favorite comfort characters not gonna lie hehe

husband!kyle who always keeps a fresh bouquet of flowers set in a pretty vase on the kitchen table for you. it's a habit for him, like muscle memory. he stops at a little flower shop after his run every monday morning, right around 6:30, and catches up with the owner before he comes back home to you. by the time you wake up their stems are cut (just like you showed him) and it's sat front-and-center on the table, next to the breakfast that lured you out of bed. when you thank him with a sleepy smile as you plop into your chair, kyle smiles back and kisses the crown of your head before he sits next to you.

husband!kyle who wholeheartedly encourages you to exercise with him. you're into running? he's happy to go for as many laps around town as you want to (are able to). you're into weight-lifting? he insists on adding the weights onto your bar himself and is always there to catch anything you may drop. more into yoga or stretching? he is a gymnast after all, so he'll be excited to show you what he knows. kyle will be over the moon just to go on little walks around the block with you- he definitely uses it to get into pokemon go (and makes you get it too). and even though he's an active person, he'll still love lounging around with you.

husband!kyle who loves doing mundane, everyday things with you. cleaning around the house, laundry, running errands, all of it. he's had enough chaos from the military to last multiple lifetimes. the little things are what grounds him from it, you're the one who helps to ground him from it. while he isn't a man of many words, his thoughts are more than plentiful, so it's hard not to find appreciation for things wherever he can. kyle shows it in as many ways as he can, through flowers and keeping you healthy and accompanying you for however long you can stand to be around him. you are his beloved and he is yours, to have and to hold, and kyle will spend every day of his life proving that he meant every word of his wedding vows.

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ likes, comments n reblogs are always appreciated!!

[lawsofchaos1]

Malec Promptlet: Circle!Alec AU

[Inspired by a comment from @crimsonpharaoh on my latest fic about the Circles very failed attempt to recruit Alec... What if they didn't fail?]

Alec is the eldest son and the acknowledged heir of two prominent, highly-ranked Circle members that are openly known to have recanted Valentine’s ideology in name only. When Robert and Maryse begin leaving the Institute in Alec’s care when he’s fourteen it becomes clear that Alec isn’t relying on his bloodline alone and is going to be an immensely powerful member of the Clave in his own right. 

The Circle would be utterly foolish not to recruit the Shadowhunter who is absolutely certain to become the next Head of the New York Institute. Especially when it becomes evident that the Shadowhunters of the New York Institute would happily lay down their lives for their beloved young leader. Whichever way Alec turns in this war, so too will New York. 

Kept wholly apart from the Downworld and with no formative mentors other than his parents, the Circle tries to recruit Alec … and Alec says yes. Everything he’s been taught says that Valentine is right - that the Downworld is a threat, and - well, Valentine’s not stupid. It’s clear that Alec is too ethical for torture and the worst of his planned experiments - but the Head of New York openly sympathetic to his cause? Aiding it, even subtly? Valentine is careful in his recruitment and how he presents the Circle’s aims. It works.

In canon, Alec is held back as he works because his pro-Downworld values are so far against the standards of the Clave, but if he doesn’t have that friction working against him? Alec rises fast and far in the ranks, quickly becoming the Vested Head of New York with his parent’s vocal support and he dominates the Clave’s political circles in Alicante. His Institute is loyal to Alec, utterly, and follows his lead. With the careful way Valentine (and Maryse) present the results of his actions to Alec, he has no cause to doubt the righteousness of his support for the Circle's planned rise.

Until he meets Magnus.

Magnus and Alec meet by sheer happenstance, literally running into each other on the streets of Brooklyn on one of the passingly rare afternoons Alec takes off both his patrol and administrative duties. Alec takes one look at the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life and is so tongue-tied he nearly fumbles accepting the resultant invitation for coffee.

For months, Alec grows deeper and deeper in love with the gorgeous and kind mundane, glowing in a way that’s noticeable even to his typically highly unobservant siblings. Alec has slowly begun to dreaming about them making a life together. Alec's is certain Magnus' soul would be deemed worthy of Ascension, but, even if Magnus isn't interested in becoming nephilim, Alec loves Magnus with everything he is and can't picture his life without Magnus by his side.

And then Alec’s world falls apart.

Magnus, just as glowing and just as in love, sits Alec down and quietly, nervously, tells him about the Shadow World. Tells Alec he’s a warlock.

If Magnus is a Downworlder, then nothing Alec has believed for his entire life can be true.

Alec is numb and disbelieving, but Magnus must take it as shock alone for he continues in his explanation, rubbing Alec’s back soothingly as he describes the terror and genocidal aims of the Circle.

Alec somehow manages to rasp out to Magnus that he needs time to think and he flees.

With a starting point Alec had somehow never considered over the last seven years, the threads start to pull apart and everything Valentine hid from him unravels in a series of horrible revelations that leave Alec throwing up bile in his sink. 

What has he done?

The next morning, Alec rises from the cold bathroom floor, limbs aching and head throbbing from lack of sleep. Silently, he goes into his office and gathers every document he has on the Circle’s activities. Everything he’s done for them, every horrible political aim he’s aided, every safehouse he’s helped conceal. He writes down names, he writes down dates and addresses, he sketches out images of the Circle members he’s seen and has no other information for. It takes him nearly until the sun’s last rays are fading before he’s done. 

And then he disarms himself. His bow and quiver. His blades and daggers. His stele. Even the slim hold-out weapon in his boot. Nothing remains.

Alec takes up his parcel of documentation and walks to Brooklyn, every step an inch closer to his grave. Every step an inch closer to his love - to Magnus, the High Warlock of New York.

When Magnus opens the door in leggings and only the barest make-up, Alec’s heart breaks. To Magnus, his mundane boyfriend had reacted very poorly to learning of the Shadow World yesterday. Badly enough that he likely is worried what Alec is here to say.

And Alec would give nearly anything to wrap his partner in a warm, familiar embrace and soothe his worries away, but Alec doesn’t deserve the comfort that would bring him too. He doesn’t deserve to even look at Magnus anymore.

Magnus brings him into the living room, gesturing him to the couch, but Alec stops short in the bare space in front of the coffee table. He looks to Magnus, memorizes for one final time what it is to have the man he loves look at him without hate and disgust in his eyes, and sinks to his knees on the ground.

Magnus turns around, startled, mouth open to protest, but Alec can’t listen to that - can’t hear what Magnus says before he knows of Alec’s sins. 

He places the parcel of information on the floor in front of him, focuses his gaze on his knees and confesses.

Everything.

[marcia-11111]

Daffodils. IV. Love the way I lie

I apologize for the very late update. However, 2024 had been one of the hardest years in my life thus far, and I couldn't have spared a moment to focus on writing outside of academia.

Tag list: @idk-bro-gay @kiopanxp @hellothere9597 @hsxhype @mareonyan @is2sae

TW!

Breakup, angst, and heartache

Sae Itoshi is a Japanese prodigy pursuing his dream of becoming the world's best midfielder. In the race to his own goals, he loses the person dearest to him: you. 

(y/n) (l/n) - Sae’s ex-partner. You are an exchange student from a Spanish university who came to Japan. You met him a few years ago during your year abroad in Spain and became his partner. You have moved on, or you thought you had. However, what will happen when the one who wanted you to avoid him the most finds himself again in your life? Is he going to prove his love to you? Or will everything turn into another heartbreak? Does your heart want the Japanese prodigy back?

All "Blue lock" characters belong to the authors of the manga and anime "Blue lock".

Please don't translate, plagiarise nor use my works on other social media platforms, etc.

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

Sae's POV

Fate’s beloved activity used to be meddling with people’s affairs. I wouldn’t have come back to Japan if it wasn’t for the fact I had to renew my passport. Although I did not fancy my homeland, the situation forced me to come back for a short while. An overwhelming feeling of missing something has overcome me, but I couldn’t grasp the reason. In the end, I decide to ignore it.

All the feelings in the world have morphed into a hassle over time. Everything had become mundane without someone’s presence in my life. I continuously executed my routine, attempting not to recall the past. However, has it ever been possible? If a significant factor of one’s life disappears one day, how can the individual return to the usual schedule?

…

Throughout my time in Japan, I met my younger brother Rin, who still hasn’t outgrown me in skill, which concerns me a bit. Even if so much time has passed, he is still unbaked and lukewarm… It annoys me, given the potential he possesses. In order to find out if Japan has finally found one true striker, I accepted the offer to participate in the Blue Lock vs U-20 match. Yet a certain emotion cannot leave my body. I just hope any idiots (teammates) won’t hold me back.

Because the indistinguishable feeling pissed me off, I’ve decided to go for a run. The damn diary only increased the level of my frustration. I couldn't have even taken a look inside of it because of how much guilt had accumulated in my body over years. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, thoughts of the past y/n and I shared haven’t dared to leave my mind. Even though they weren’t there, their lasting presence has haunted me for years. I’ve remembered all the promises I had broken and all the sweet words that molded in the ash. I start to accelerate due to the mess in my head. I, Sae Itoshi, the genius midfielder, couldn’t have gotten over my first love. My heart betrays my body and mind... And what’s worse, it almost wins against my ego. They were everything I ever wished to have and all I was afraid to love, but now it was too late...

It seems almost impossible to run into each other ever again, or so I thought...

[allthingsfern]

My 2023 Top 5

Since early May, 2022, when I fractured my right arm (the humerus, right under the shoulder joint), my health, my physical well being, has deteriorated at a fast pace because I stopped being active. Part of that was my not taking pictures because, especially for the first 2 months after the break, I could not lift my camera. Then, this year, my cataracts got worst and I had my right eye surgery in early November, with my left eye surgery rescheduled for next April. (My cataracts in my left eye are not as severe as they were on my right eye and before my surgery scheduled for this month, December, I got a bad case of bronchitis.) It has been a year of deterioration and adjustment and retrospection (in 10 years I will be 80 years old) and of doing photography. Not so much of making pictures, but certainly of continuing my learning my beloved art form and going back and reworking some of my old photos.

So, with all that said, here are my Top 5 for 2023 and why I chose them and what, in some way, they have to do with my explanation above. The first 3 were captured this year and the last 2 are finds from past photos that I overlooked and that the newer, more powerful masking tools in Camera Raw helped me shape into what I think are stunning images. I am getting good at doing the Ansel Adams style manipulations and am also enjoying the process.

Oy vey.

Circles and triangles and shadows, oh my II. Oakland, 01-28-23.

I went to Oakland, which is a city I love and think is sadly overlooked because of San Francisco's grandeur. Had a great time walking around for a couple of hours and got a few solid photos. What more can I ask for.

Portrait II. Davis, 03-20-23.

Had dinner with this young man and got a couple of photos. zTHis was my favorite; captured him at his most comfortable because he was reacting to a comment by his roommate. Not the sharpest image, but I love the sense of motion and his expression.

Roses IX; Municipal Rose Garden. San Jose, 05-14-23.

For my birthday I went down to San Jose and stayed a couple of days. On my birthday, I visited the San Jose Municipal Rose Garden and had a wonderful time capturing gorgeous roses and enjoying the park's festive Mother's Day atmosphere.

The beauty of decay Vintage trailer: Crockett, 10-01-17.

Kinda creepy/post-Apocalyptic/SteamPunk, this photo came to life once I started editing it in Camera Raw recently. The masking, dodge & burn tools are excellent and its tools for manipulating color also helped immensely even though this is a B&W photo.

COVID wanderings Outdoor seating? Pier 1. San Francisco, 09-07-20.

While walking around a deserted San Francisco Bay promenade on the Embarcadero, I was struck by the hard, graphic lines and sharp B&W light/shadows of this, which showed that even in the midst of a terrifying pandemic, there was beauty to be found every so often, in the most unexpected, mundane places.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Is there anything good (positive achievement) about the Valyrian/ghiscarian empires? I feel GRRM didn't bother giving them nuanced and interesting history beside mass slavery, rape and genocide, esp the ghiscarians they are mash up of the all the racist oriental tropes you can think of

Hi anon, this is a really good question. I think you can look at it two ways.

On the one hand, if we're analyzing the books from a literary perspective, GRRM's portrayal of the entire continent of Essos is pretty Orientalist and doesn't hold up that well. And we can blame this to some extent on GRRM being a white boomer who clearly did not think all that deeply about the stereotypes he was playing into when he created his "exotic" eastern continent. 90s fantasy was rife with this stuff (even my beloved Robin Hobb is not completely immune-- I'm looking at you, Chalcedeans), and at the time Orientalism was, much like critical race theory or decolonization, a grad school level concept, unless you ran in activist circles. You didn't have Tumblr and Twitter and TikTok and Youtube generating Discourse, you had to actively seek out different perspectives. And ex-hippie liberal white boomers often assumed that they already had the right perspectives, that they knew what traps to avoid, and so you'd get 90s SFF authors thinking they were very cleverly subverting these tropes by going, "I know, I'll have an intensely misogynistic culture of desert dwelling nomads who have harems and slaves but I'll make them white." It was pretty bleak. Luckily for all of us, fantasy has come a long way since then.

And yeah, once you see the Orientalism in ASOIAF, you can't unsee it. Lys is basically the fantasy version of the "pleasure planet" trope, the Dothraki are a stereotype of the Mongol armies without any of the many positive contributions the Molgols made, Qarth is like the Coleridge poem come to life with people riding camels with jeweled saddles and wearing tiger skins, with its women baring one breast and it's sophisticated assassin's guild, and Mereen has its pyramids. The entire continent is brimming with spices and jewels and pleasure houses and people saying "Your Magnificence." It is also a place of blood magic and dragons and Red Gods and shadowlands. It is everything exciting and "exotic," juxtaposed against what appears to most readers to be very mundane--septas and pseudocatholicism and maesters in the citadel. So yeah, it's an Orientalist's fantasy world, and the point of all this is not necessarily to cast it as evil per se, but to cast it as "Other" (and to be clear, Orientalism is harmful and GRRM deserves the criticism he gets for leaning into stereotypes). Valyria and the Valyrians are certainly included in that-- they are explicitly Other as foreign born ruling family in Westeros, and they are treated that way both in-world and by the narrative.

The question then becomes, although GRRM's depictions of Essos lean heavily and inelegantly into Orientalist tropes, why did he create these worlds the way he did? Why is Valyria an "Other" and what significance does it have to the story? And I think that some of this is GRRM's shorthand for something magical that is lost and forgotten and fading away, just like Valyria itself is in the memories of the Targaryen family. It is the Xanadu of Coleridge's Kubla Khan, not just the East viewed from the West, but the past viewed from the present, a nostalgic yearning for a place that only ever existed in the imagination. When the narrative does visit these places in person, rather than telling us about them secondhand, they become ugly and brutal, the jeweled facade hiding a rot underneath. In ASOIAF we have Dany ripping that facade off of Meereen and Yunkai, but she idealizes her own Targaryen heritage, and that is not insignificant, and as readers, we are invited to idealize it right along with her, in spite of plenty of hints that perhaps we should not (like the aforementioned slavery). We even hear Astapori and Yunkish slavers speaking to Dany echo sentiments about the even older Ghiscari empire, also lost, "Ours is the blood of ancient Ghis, whose empire was old when Valyria was yet a squalling child." Old Ghis and the Valyrians who conquered them are both long gone at this point, and yet their descendants are clinging to the legacies of cultures that would be wholly foreign to both of them. Because if Valyria is Xanadu, the Old Valyrians and Old Ghiscari are also Ozymandias, the mighty who have fallen, their once grand civilizations nothing but forgotten ruins. The Targaryens don't yet realize that they are that "half-sunk shattered visage," that they are yearning for something that is gone and never returning, something they never really knew in the first place.

Westeros is not immune to this either. I think it's a consistent theme that GRRM plays with is the ways which the past is glorified and distorted and romanticized. Even in a meta-sense, his entire medieval world is, in many ways, a half-remembered medieval fantasy, the medieval world as imagined by people who read Ivanhoe, rather than a medieval world as actually was. And GRRM simultaneously presents this romanticized world alongside the brutality of the past (and to drive that point home, George's medieval world is much more brutal than the real medieval world was), and so he asks us, just like Dany must ask herself at some point, is the past really all that romantic? Or are we simply yearning for something unnamable and Other? And if we yearn for that, why?

On the other hand, from an in-world perspective, if you are Westerosi, are there any redeeming qualities to Valyrian culture? And I think we can answer that question by asking ourselves, is there anything salvageable from the past, even if the past was terrible? Even if what we perceive of Old Valyria wavers between a horrific empire based on conquest and slavery, and an idealized homeland full of magical dragonriders, depending on who is doing the telling, if we accept it as a fully fleshed out world, then I think we can remember no cultures are monoliths. Old Valyria had art, architecture, fashion, music, literature, and I like to imagine that there were good freeholders, perhaps even Valyrian versions of the Roman Stoics and the Cynics, who raised moral objections to slavery. Certainly the Valyrian "freeholder" government itself, a kind of proto-democracy, similar to that of Athens, was innovative for its particular time and place, even if it was not as democratic as our modern democracies are, and that model of government is replicated throughout Essos, where strict hereditary monarchy seems to be relatively uncommon. Valyria also had a great deal of religious freedom, which persists throughout Essos as well. And as with any empire, it's important to keep in mind that the ruling class made up only a small percentage of actual Valyria, and we know there were Valyrians who were not dragonlords but just normal people, going about their lives who had nothing to do with the atrocities committed, and those people were telling stories, creating art, writing songs, and producing culture too. So I think, tying back into how GRRM uses Valyria and Essos in his narrative, we do not have to discard the past entirely, nor do in-world Targaryens, but it's the romanticization that's the problem, and I think that's something that both in-world characters and readers are cautioned against.

[otakusheep15]

Obey Me Flufftober Day 9

Prompt: Games

Pairing: Barbatos x reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 434

A/n: Barbatos my beloved! I love writing for this demon, but I also lowkey suck at it lol. Still, I think this prompt will be fun for him.

While Barbatos was not usually one to take breaks, he tended to be weak-willed when it came to your requests. So, when you request him to take some time off so you two can spend some time together, who is he to refuse you? Plus, he knows how much Diavolo wants him to relax, so it was surprisingly easy to get him to agree.

Since this was meant to be a relaxing break, you decided on a simple activity that would not require much effort: board games. You knew Barbatos was smart, and you knew he enjoyed strategy games, so you thought this would be perfect for him. Also, the image of Barbatos playing a human world board game made you laugh, so this was a win for you as well.

As expected, Barbatos is quite good at any and all games you introduce to him. You don't mind losing because seeing Barbatos happy is all you need right now. You're glad to see him relaxed and enjoying himself. You found that, after a multitude of board games, he seemed to particularly enjoy long-term games such as Monopoly and The Game of Life. You guessed it also had something to do with them being long-term strategy games, but he wouldn't specify an actual reason himself.

Still, playing with him was fun. He also never once mentioned having responsibilities to take care of, so he's either so genuinely invested in the games that he forgot (unlikely) or he's just purposefully not mentioning his many responsibilities for your sake (likely). Either way, you were not complaining. You got to spend quality time with Barbatos while playing your favorite games, so you were fully satisfied.

It's a simple, mundane date, but it's perfect for you. It almost feels domestic in a way, like you're a normal couple having a casual game night. It's sweet, although you don't mention your thoughts aloud. You're sure he knows what you're thinking regardless.

After beating you at yet another game, Barbatos decides that you've played for long enough. You're about to complain about him going back to work, but then he reassures you that's not the case. Instead, he points out the fact that you've spent the entire day together playing games, and it's getting rather late. How could you argue with that? You want to, but you know you can't.

Barbatos also reassures you that he would love to do this again sometime. Perhaps he'll introduce you to some Devildom exclusive games. You could barely contain your excitement at the prospect of another board game date, much to Barbatos's delight.

[mr-malumm]

Cringetober day 29: experimental makeup!!!!

Me and the darling husband are Sylveon and umbreon foe Halloween and this is us getting ready together 🥰🥰🥰

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 7 ("YOU GOT TO KNOW WHEN TO HOLD 'EM / KNOW WHEN TO FOLD 'EM") EDITION

Whew, baby. Well, I found this episode particularly brutal.

I've been noodling this week on the following theme: the mundanity of toxicity. The everyday-ness of bad in people. I think this episode captured this well (cc @lurkingshan, @neuroticbookworm, and @bengiyo, who all got a little preview of this thinking).

But I caught some other themes in this episode, too, which I'll quickly hit and list:

2) The elements of life, and 3) Gambling.

As a devoted meta writer, writing about Only Friends is hard. Because: I want to think that there's a lot more to what I'm seeing. I am certainly missing cinematic references that Jojo and team are making (I haven't watched Queer As Folk, for instance). Mew's face popping out of the bathtub? That has me wondering if I'm missing a cinematic reference there.

But at the same time, I wonder if by just observing the Only Friends crew, that I'm picking up on enough. When I was in my twenties, living in New York City, going to college...I was still trying to figure people out. I was absolutely SURROUNDED by people, and I couldn't help but think, everyday -- what is it that makes these people tick?

And I found myself regularly shocked at how mean people were. Very often, I'd just be like -- what the actual fuck, why are you trying so hard to be a massive dick? And, who knows -- maybe people were thinking the same thing about me.

That was when I was young. I just -- I didn't know that much about people. Really, what I didn't know -- and what I really NEEDED to know, and what I learned about myself in that decade and the next -- was how to manage myself around anybody, so as to preserve myself from any unpredictable pain that might come from someone else. In other words... I needed to fucking grow up.

Part of that self-management was trying on identities. Could I fake being a stronger person? Sure, I definitely tried. I tried with clothes, with new slang, with trying new activities, with drinking. That's just normal for a lass in their twenties.

The Only Friends crew -- they are assholes. Many of them were trying on change a couple of weeks ago. Mew experienced a HUGE identity shift during this episode.

But what they all embody to me, in this moment in their lives, is a kind of everyday toxicity -- a self-absorbed perspective, so tunneled internally into each and every one of them, that none of them are realizing that the energy they put out is colliding and having effects on others.

Like -- it's kind of shocking and twisted to watch. But when I think about it, when I remember what it was like to be in a huge city and to be in college and post-college: there's a part of me that remembers being CONSTANTLY surprised that people were just massive jerks, everyday, and again, who knows -- I think people likely thought that I was a jerk, too, for thinking of myself and leading myself with my life.

People, most people, grow out of these stages, as they get older, get more experienced in their years, maybe get more political in their dealings with others. I can't condemn this group of university students fully, as I hold hope (I'm a mom, damn it) that they'll grow into more fully robust and empathic people. But they ain't there yet. I'm not sure my turning stones gives me more insight to them than in relating to my own experiences as a former twentysomething. It has me thinking, as someone who loves turning those stones in my beloved dramas.

That all being said. Those two other themes in this episode have me thinking -- the elements of life and gambling.

We saw Mew play with fire (fucking finally, my man). And we saw lots of water -- water in the pool, water in the tub with Sand and Ray.

Water puts out fire. Mew tries to fake-drown (lol) Boston in the pool. Later on, Mew lets Boston know that he (Mew) can take Boston down, but won't. Mew is trying to control the fires that he's lit, and the ones that have already been burning.

My question to Mew is: do you know how to do what you are doing, or what you want to do?

I don't quite think so, and I think that "Welcome to Las Vegas" shirt he was wearing at Boston's house indicated as much.

(Uh, first of all, chain life, Book! MORE, MORE!)

Mew has decided to become a gambler. Let's think of all the metaphors! Mew has decided to roll the dice and possibly move past the pass line. He's decided to play his odds. He even STACKED his odds -- going to a new gay bar, enticing Drake Gap, going back to Gap's place, stealing the sex tape from Gap's computer, threatening Gap with reporting him for a crime, going to BOSTON'S HOUSE, TALKING TO BOSTON'S DAD, showing Boston the copy of the sex tape, THREATENING BOSTON, MAKING BOSTON BEG, showing MORAL SUPERIORITY OVER BOSTON, throwing the flash drive at Boston, and walking away. Like, if that were a metaphor for actually playing craps, first of all, lol, the pit guy would check Mew's ID, get him a players' card, and encourage him to move to the high limits room, being like, WHAT is this motherfucker DOING, but we want him doing more of it, he'll make us more money -- once he starts fucking things up.

Mew's trying on a new identity. He already was on the road to it, getting that LASIK for Top. He's just continuing to move forward with it. He's going to play with nastiness, but still try to come out on Top.

Trying on new identities. It is so normal when you're young -- I did that. Trying on what fits for whatever reason you are feeling at that moment -- if you're rebounding, if you're healing, if you're bored. Mew is embarrassed, maybe even ashamed, maybe even regretful that his first relationship ended up as a failure.

And now he's figuring out how to recover -- by taking a gamble, and playing with the exact same mundane, everyday nastiness that he's seen in everyone around him.

P.S. Ephemerality and permanence? That fire burned the memory that Top tried to create with Mew (cc @twig-tea and @lurkingshan here). And, gambling? SO ephemeral. Buh-bye, money and pride. Ray switching back and forth between Mew and Sand? Ephemeral crushitude. (SAND. SMDH. I KNOW RAY'S DAD SAID SOMETHING TO YOU, BUT STILL, SMDH.) Nick turning on Boston. Boston begging Mew to hold back on the permanent impact of the sex tape on Boston's dad's career.

And the ephemerality of movement: the clothes in this episode said it all. Las Vegas, NYC, Stanford. These young folks can just... disappear if they want to. And they just might.

(G'DAY, EPHEMERALITY SQUAD! @ranchthoughts @slayerkitty @distant-screaming @twig-tea @neuroticbookworm @lurkingshan @clara-maybe-ontheroad @thatgirl4815 @chickenstrangers @wen-kexing-apologist)

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

Chris, Sandra, Robert, and Vanessa as YouTubers

(because the idea was living in my neurons and firing them constantly)

Chris is so one of those guys who acts out his favourite scenes from plays and movies and TV shows.

But, more importantly,

He is watching stage performances and ripping into them with a zest that scares new viewers.

(There is a drinking game floating around with older viewers based on what Chris says or does, such as pinching the bridge of his nose at least three times in the span of two minutes or if he starts a sentence off like, “Hm, right, well then.”)

He's talking about Shakespeare, he's talking about Wilde, he's looking at off-Broadway and off-West End up-and-coming shows

He's looking at what's promising (u&c shows), what's timeless (older, well-known shows), and what he appreciates about them or what he thinks is outdated or sucked in execution (all).

Once a month, he'll perform a scene from a play he wrote himself.

There are several plays he's penned from which he chooses each month, performing scenes that are disjointed, so his ideas cannot be potentially stolen.

He does have a Patreon, the patrons dubbed “The Screen Beans.”

One of the things he does every other week is a live Q&A while he does mundane things like cleaning his office or making a meal or holds yarn for someone off-screen.

There are fancams in the #ScreenBeans tags across social media of his lives due to Chris' much more laid-back personality.

(Laid-back is a relative term here. He is still very conscious of what he says and does, however he wears his glasses or forgets to shave a few days before the lives or is wearing cosy-looking handmade jumpers.)

His Instagram account is active, and he posts at least thrice a week. Each post is something specific for the day, like #HoratioMondays, #WednesdayViewings, and #SaturdayShots.

Horatio is a beloved feature of his channel. A nearly completely black cat with white spots on the end of his tail, over one eye, and on one paw, the little guy is missing half of one of his ears. He has brilliant green eyes, though, that look like emeralds when the light hits him right.

Chris had, in his late-teens one night walking to his flat, stumbled across Horatio as a small, weak, and thin kitten. He instantly picked him up and took him back to his flat. Though there were two other roommates there, Chris was positive that they would be fine with it.

(This was in part due to having seen Kevin's family cat in the family pictures around the flat, and also knowing the Patels since he and Kev were in Primary. Their other roommate was a friend of a friend named Max Bennett, and he was surprisingly easy-going and adored animals.)

Horatio Mondays are of the now almost twelve-year-old cat going about his life.

Sometimes they're videos of him staring at a bug on the window or of him dropping one of his toys into his mini water fountain and then releasing the most pitiful and cooked yowl for Chris to rescue it.

Other times they're pictures of him curled up on the little bed Chris has for him in his office, slightly messy selfies of the two of them together, or pictures of Horatio dressed up for whatever holiday or event is approaching.

Wednesday Viewings are sneak peaks into what his video on Friday will be about. Sometimes it's a shot of the title card of the movie or TV show. Others it's an artfully done picture of a book of a play open with several pens and sticky notes scattered in and around it.

Saturday Shots are just pictures of anything particularly interesting Chris did during the week, or pictures and videos taken during a stroll in the park near his flat, or pictures with his friends at cafés or theatres.

Many people are surprised by who Chris is friends with, not expecting to see the Sandra Wilkinson, the Robert Grove, and the Vanessa Wilcock-Wynn-Carroway with him.

Well, okay, Sandra and Robert make sense given that both of them are well-known acting vloggers, too. But it always throws new viewers off to find out that Chris and Vanessa are engaged.

The two of them are very good at keeping their accounts separate and compartmentalized.

Once they announce their engagement on both of their channels, however, the divide they had slowly erodes away and Vanessa can be seen occasionally in his lives, sometimes even joining in for a few minutes. She also starts to feature more heavily on his Instagram page, along with her cat Othello.

(Screen Beans are shook to find out that Chris had been hiding an entire whole ass cat from them for years. Especially one as fluffy as Othello. When asked about it in a live Q&A that he did on Instagram after his engagement announcement video went up, he chalked the lack of Othello up to the fact that he can close his office door while he films. And that Othello likes to sleep most of the time on his and Vanessa's bed or hang out with her while she works on a new pattern or design or challenge.)

Chris posts his videos every Friday, and they range between three minutes long to over an hour and a half if he's dissecting a film/TV show/play.

[silent-words]

Oct 21 - Introduce your Inquisitor

I'm finally here to show you my Inky! He has two different models, because now I'm doing another playthrough with the same character, but I didn't bother much to make him identical to the previous playthrough. Let's go!

Dionysios Trevelyan, human mage, pyromancer, formerly of the Ostwick Circle. 26 years of age at the start of the Inquisition.

Born to a wealthy noble family in Ostwick. This family had never had mages before. Dionysios' grandfather married a former Dalish elf (thus an uncharacteristic swarthy complexion), and it was believed that mage legacy came from her. Initially the future Inquisitor was named after said grandfather, Brendan.

The only child of Trevelyan family at the time, he manifested magic at the age of 4, and was taken to the Ostwick Circle of Magi immediately. The child overheard his father telling his wife "This son is a waste, we need another heir". The young mage would never forget it.

When he was 15, Brendan Trevelyan found out that his grandfather had hunted elves for sport and forced one of them into marrying him. He was so disgusted that he decided to change his name. He chose "Dionysios" after the author of a magic textbook. He officially changed his name only when he passed his Harrowing at the age of 19.

After he arrived at the Circle and started living there he became close to several other children, who afterwards formed "the Ostwick Gang", a group of young mages. There were two boys, with whom Dionysios lived in the dormitory before their Harrowing, and two girls, whom they initially started protecting from bullying. These four people (actually two humans and two elves) became real family, true siblings for Dionysios. They were the first to cheer him up, and they were the first to start calling him by his new name.

Dionysios and his Circle siblings knew that templars pushed them to undergo the rite of Tranquility. But they resisted and swore that they will do anything not to become Tranquil. Although their life wasn't hard and Ostwick Circle was a peaceful one, they knew that they're held like prisoners, and they have all the rights to actually be part of the society. When presented with an opportunity to get out of the Circle and see his family, Dionysios refused. Other people in the Circle, including his beloved friends-siblings were not given such an opportunity, so using it himself would be unjust. Besides, he was a "waste of a son" anyway, so why bother?

To overcome all the perils of magic the Ostwick gang started studying magic with all the passion they had. Dionysios enjoyed it and held the title of "bookworm" proudly. He fell in love with elemental magic and mastered the power of fire. Even after his Harrowing he did not pursue any romantic relationships. As everyone else at the Circle had assumed, it was because he was deeply interested in magic theory. In reality he just wanted to find someone special, man or woman, a person to spend his life with. And in the Circle the choice was extremely limited.

Right before his Harrowing he got hold of "Mage freedom manifesto" by someone who called themselves Ser Pounce-a-lot. Dionysios was so inspired by the text that he memorized it verbatim and started retelling the manifesto instead of prayers to the Maker. He started looking for and opportunity to free the mages of southern Thedas.

When Dionysios was 22, the Mage Rebellion began. It was the Ostwick Gang, who made the templars go away without bloodshed. Although the first enchanter was killed, Dionysios was eloquent enough to persuade the Knight-Commander to leave their post and take the templars to Orlais. Some mages left to join the rebellion, some stayed in the Circle, Dionysios and his siblings included. They offered citizens of Ostwick help – with healing, enchanting items and some mundane activities. Thus poor and middle-class non-mages stopped being hostile towards their magic fellow citizens.

When they heard of the Conclave to be held in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, there was no doubt who should be sent there. It was Dionysios – always so kind, polite, eloquent and of noble birth.

After the explosion on the Conclave, Dionysios found himself among the people who were wary towards mages, and no one actually had the same Circle experience as he did. He felt lonely until he met a charming Tevinter mage in the Redcliffe chantry. Dionysios loved talking to Dorian, travelling with Dorian and then, after some time, kissing Dorian. He fell in love and wanted everyone to know about it (to the utmost horror of his lover, of course).

During the Inquisition Dionysios:

allied with the mages

brought Vivienne to the brink of a nervous breakdown (answering "mages should be free" to every one of her questions)

made Alexios work for the Inquisition

defended Dorian in front of his father (he actually wanted to kiss Dorian then and there to piss off that "magister", but stopped himself) and eventually romanced Dorian

saved Celene from assassination, and she stayed the Empress

saved Hawke from the Fade (left Stroud there), because Hawke had to get back to her rebel mage husband and children

saved Grey Wardens

softened Leliana

kissed Dorian in front of Cullen (just like Hawke had kissed Anders in front of the very same Cullen, as Varric pointed out)

made Iron Bull Tal-Vashoth

made Leliana the Divine

got his left hand chopped off

made the Inquisition Leliana's personal guard

After that Dionysios led the Inquisition for a couple of years, talking to his lover through the crystal. But then he decided that it's not how he wants his life to be, so at a pretext of getting a magic prosthesis in Tevinter, to rode to Minrathous to stay there for good. Dorian was, of course, baffled, but couldn't resist Dionysios' puppy eyes and allowed him to live in his mansion. Lord Pavus could never say no to his amatus.

I hope I'll be able to find them together in Minrathous in the Veilguard.

[buryam-soul]

I'll have sent this ship to three people now, but you probably want to do Cytham too, so have at it.

Pfpfppft the consequences of the cytham mutuals circle....

What made you ship it: their dynamic in the AQ was tickling my brain throughout 3.1, but like a lot of ships, my activation mode lies in seeing fanart/other people shipping it, and for them that was actually this cute animatic

It has Alhaitham being observant of Cyno's limits, it has a stubborn but softening up Cyno.... It's a nice starter for me to dig deeper into cyhaino and it's also justg. Really cute. I owe it my life.

(though maybe without it, the conclusion of the AQ with the "so you think i'm fit to be a sage?" "heh not at all" probably would've sold me anyway)

What are your favorite things about that ship:

ough their trust and respect developing throughout the AQ and beyond....

But also the office romance nonsense they can go through is so fun.

They're both just funny in general really, in a way that really resonates with me. Puns and obvious lies my beloved....

And I love how their balance of the grandiose and the mundane intertwine. They saved a nation -- also they have drinks and play cards at the tavern. Their first on screen interaction was a fight -- and their latest was a conversation about a light novel. They were coworkers before the whole heist and they went back to being coworkers (except now they also work with a god). Why are they Like That (affectionate).

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship: I don't really care about the deskas parallels tbh. Same with the interpretation of them being exes. People have made good stuff with these hcs and theories, but on their own I don't find them that interesting.

[queercodedvillains]

If you can I’d love to hear the outline/tldr of your Claire’s AU because the posts under that tag are always so funny to me

So the claires au tag started because I wanted to collect all my modern au inspo posts in one place. Since it all gravitates around my beloved little terrorist Deidara, and I think he'd do great at a dead end low effort retail job with a bonus perk of bullying giving piercings to tweens and a sick employee discount, the claire's au was born. In hindsight, I wish I had called it the mallrats au, but since the fics came after the tag, we're stuck with the consequences of my choices smh.

It's expanded significantly, to the point that its sooo hard to summarize, but I'm gonna try my best here!!

My general goal is to transcribe everything we know from canon as closely/creatively as I can to a modern/90s setting. Tbh this started because I just was not emotionally prepared to handle canon!akatsuki levels of fucked up war criminals and I just wanted to put them in low stakes shenanigans that keeps the core of their characters without all the murder and angst and action (I hate writing action. Horror is fun and dandy, but spin kicks and explosions and puppets are beyond me for now).

So in the claires au/mallrats cinematic universe, the Akatsuki are just a gang of queers doing your run of the mill criminal activity. Drug dealing, car stealing, chop shopping, gun running, book cooking, you name it. They all ended up kicked out of society for one reason or another, banded together, and became mundane villains of polite society.

For example, Sasori is always depicted as tinkering with his puppets. So I decided that tendency to methodically pull someone apart and back together, that special calculating mindset that it takes to look at a body and come up with twelve different secret weapons to hide in their limbs, would make the perfect fodder for a chop shop mechanic. Stolen cars instead of stolen corpses. He seems like he got the obsessing-over-cars brand of autism and I love him for it. He's weird and reclusive and pretentious and insufferable and genius.

Deidara likes explosives, duh, but guns are so boring imo so I wanted to dig deeper into his love of temporary beauty, and how that meshes perfectly with drugs. They're ephemeral, transient experiences that fade quickly but leave a lasting impact on a person, changing their life, etc. He's also. Super fucking pretentious about it. Don't let him corner you at a party. Sasori might be the chemist but Deidara is the real brains behind the operation, and also the very willing test subject. I see him as a club kid, always on one in the middle of the crowd, and entirely responsible for the Akatsuki's branding. He designed the clouds and the patented pressed pills (we got blue teslas, they got white owls, etc) and also is solely responsible for word of mouth advertising. He's always got a can of spray paint and/or a black business card with nothing but a phone number and a red cloud. He's always bright and loud and shiny and looking for attention in seedy places, always in the middle of the mosh pit or the dance floor or some sketchy back alley or the skate park (skating is kinda like riding a giant flying bird, right?) Either way, everyone wants whatever the fuck he's on.

Together they're a power couple. Absolutely nasty, insufferable to talk to, impossible to be around unless you're just as pretentious as them about their very specific interests AND willing to listen to them bicker endlessly about their arts. Naturally, they only have two friends. Kakuzu and Hidan.

I want to dig into their backstories and relationships later, narratively, but the barest bones of it is that Hidan is Deidara's childhood friend and professional pain in the ass. Class clowns in detention together, bullying the local nerds, weirdo queer kids with serious mental issues from broken homes, a scrappy sort of friendship born out of desperation for someone Like Them etc. I mean Hidan's got a nasty sadomasochistic streak, a propensity for self harm, and an obsession with the occult so don't get me started on him as your local satanic bad influence. Their whole thing could be its own post tbh.

Kakuzu and Sasori are like crotchety old men on the porch. They like to sit in some booth at the club talking shit and looking menacing while Deidara and Hidan are busy 'advertising'. I also see Kakuzu as a bit of a mentor to Sasori, being a bit older and wiser and seeing Sasori get dragged into the Akatsuki after dropping out of med school and being disowned by his grandmother (a whole other post as well) and spiraling into shitty coping mechanisms (alcohol, mostly). Kakuzu smacked some sense into him and got him sobered up because he loves that sad pathetic wet cat of a man they got money to make!!

If and when Sasori and Deidara split up to work, I see them pairing up with Kakuzu and Hidan, respectively. Every artsy twink needs their burly body guard, yknow?

I'm maintaining their age differences to some degree, although pinched closer. At the time Mallrats is set, Deidara is 25, Hidan is 26, Sasori is 32, Kakuzu is 40. Itachi and Kisame are also mid 20s, Konan and Pain and Zetsu and Tobi are in their 30s.

Deidara centric timeline wise (and trying to stick to canon as closely as realistically possible) he gets kicked out of his house for being fruity at 14, ends up couch surfing with Hidan (having 'sleep overs', or sneaking into his room when Hidan's mom said no but didn't care enough think to look under his bed/the closet/that pile of laundry) and when he can't pull that off, staying in the mall til after closing and posting up in there all night. After a while, someone in the Akatsuki notices him kicking rocks in a parking lot and realizes they need some scrappy kid to run a backpack from one end of town to the other without getting noticed. One thing leads to another and he ends up catching Konan's attention. She (30s, forgery and embezzling specialist, dyke and mother of the house) shuffles some papers, gets him his own apartment on the condition that he works for her and the money goes from their business associates to him to her to his landlord.

I have a soft spot for Konan doing this for anyone she can. Queer kids in the 80s and 90s didn't exactly have resources, and she did what she could with what she had, handing them a way to earn their own money and a safe place to live, even if its seedy and illegal. Beats the streets! Most of them were runners for a few years and aged out, she signed their SRO apartments off to them at 18 and they moved on with their lives. There's a whole host of people who only know her as Lady Angel (winknod to canon again) because she did what she could to save em. Deidara just happened to be too good at his job and got pulled higher and higher, until he landed in Sasori's shop.

That's about caught up to what I've gotten so far in Mallrats and The Waiting Room (with so much more to go. My muse is wildly overactive for the amount of time and attention span I got). I got head canons on like all the main characters from Konoha/Suna, all the Akatsuki, and the Sanin. Where they work, how they interact, how their relationships translate to mallrat/clubrat shenanigans, etc.

Every detail Sasori and Deidara falling in love? DUH. But also........... A complete dossier on everyone's kinks? Hidan and Deidara's gay awakening? Sasori's history with Orochimaru? The absolute fuckery that is any of their home life before the Akatsuki? Brazilian Kakuzu? Jashinism in a neopagan satanic context? Kakuzu and Hidan's perfectly vicious relationship? Konan as Lady Angel? Itachi darling son of the police chief working for the mob to spite his homophobic dad? Kisame... well, idk about Kisame, but if you care enough to develop it with me I could be convinced to!! The list goes ON.

I could go into heavier detail about so much more but this is already so long T^T. If you read this far thank u ilysm and I would be so delighted to get into more if you're interested!! The ask box is always open and I am foaming at the mouth over them at the drop of a hat <3