#seita

[charnel-grounds]

Valkoinen peura | 1953 | dir. Erik Blomberg

[courtesanofdeath]

A mom's unshapely lunch is the tastiest of all.

happy mother's day ✧

[sleepynneko]

Grave of the Fireflies (1988)

[mmediocreman]

i need someone to talk abt grave of the fireflies with

I first saw grave of the fireflies when i was in middle school. i was much more apathetic that time than now but i can still remember not being able to hold back the tears and be left with this horrible sadness for days after watching. I thought to myself i dont want to see this movie again, but there was a showing in my local theatre, which barely happens so off i go.

its interesting that when i look up interviews with takahata regarding this, he said a lot of people told him they dont want to see the movie for a second time, but he thinks itll be great if you could, you should. and to my horror my second viewing was much much worse, i was practically crying the whole movie, even on the 'happy' moments.

the real seita grave of the fireflies was adapted from a book of the same name by nosaka akiyuki into a semi-autobiographical book. nosaka had been raised by his aunt and lost both his aunt and adoptive father in the firebombing of 1945 in kobe. his sister, aiko received horrible burns and had to be hospitalized, leaving 14 y.o nosaka and his adoptive sister keiko who was only 16 month old. keiko died due to malnutrition, and nosaka felt partly to blame for eating her portion of food instead of taking care of her. the book was essentially an apology letter to keiko.

ive yet to read the book, nor will i i think, but from excerpt you can see moments that nosaka experienced that was put into the book. what he did, what he went trough was what seita did and went trough as well.

seita's flaw

"criticism towards seita's character would not have surprised me, and i even hoped to hear it. but i didnt get this kind of feedback"

-takahata isao

takahata was intrigued by the way the main character; seita, acted. as he believes it closely resembles modern day kids rather than kids of his generation that had to endure war. seita is spoiled, naive, didnt think realistically and ahead. his greatest sin, was that he was a kid in war who had just lost his mum, not sure why his dad in the army havent replied yet and living with an aunt who couldnt care less about them. and just wants to keep his sister happy, and that is the tragedy of this movie for me the aunt

as a child i was judged unfairly, and so as an adult i feel the responsibility of educating kids rather than judging them. explaining things to them instead of passive aggressively attacking them. no matter how annoying, or stupid, or naive they are, theyre still just kids. if even adults has a hard time of sustaining themselves in tough times, reading between the lines, can you imagine how hard it must be for the kids?

takahata also mentioned how he feels modern-day japanese citizens had started being more lone-wolf and the connection and ties to help each other had diminished more and more. this is purely conjecture on my part but i wonder if how the aunt acted would also fall into that category.

she was only nice to the seita and setsuko when seita brought back food and amenities that he had buried before his house burned down

instead of helping him find work or taking the time to explain to him why he needs to work (i.e to secure food for his sister) she just scolded them and got offended from what a 4.yo had said

from my understanding, seita and setsuko's father is her brother. she doesnt seem bothered one bit that theres a chance her own brother could have died

the family card

as an asian, i feel like when its convenient people will use the "but we're family" card. often to get a family member to share their debt or other burden, or to guilt someone into not holding a grudge after being abused/treated badly by a family member. but when its time to actually make sacrifices for another family member, suddenly its selfish. although not a 1 to 1, i sort of see this double standard executed by the aunt as well. grave of the fireflies is a double suicide story

there was an interview with nosaka and takahata where they referred to the story as such. taking into account how nosaka wrote the book as an apology for his sister's death, feeling guilty for surviving, and feeling partly responsible for taking her share of the food. i wonder if "dying after her and reuniting with haste" was an alternate he thought about often. i dont know how well or bad nosaka took care of his sister, but for all the wrong actions seita took it was out of love for setsuko. he just wants to give her happy moments and to stick together. in a way, them barring themselves from reality and the outside world was a way to survive. and can you blame them? to me, seita was also waiting for word from his dad, because he felt that as long as he can hold out until his dad came then everything will be alright. but then he had to found out the hard way that his dad had also died in war along with japan losing. that was not the case for nosaka, after being thrown into a cell for delinquents and orphans after being caught stealing, it was his dad that ended up fetching him. he said that he proceeded to 'forget' all about his traumas following the bombing. seita was nosaka's worst ending scenario, and its like in an attempt to beg for forgiveness he puts a part of himself in it.

-

few works had influenced me like this, and i think itll be another decade or two before another rewatch for me, but for now i need to let this out of my system, so pls talk to me about this... lol

[the-spaced-out-ace]

I’m sure this isn’t new info about me but still (I’m having a normal one today)

[nexzlover19]

୨୧ ❀ C𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬 R𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 ❀ ୨୧

essence ➜ when a JYP solo artist casts NEXZ’s Yu and fellow labelmate Y/N as the leads in their newest music video, what starts as an awkward work partnership quickly turns into lingering glances, effortless chemistry, and a connection neither of them expected.

word count ➜ 3.2k

recommended ➜ 18+ • MDI ✿

@gongyuz @flustaered17 @helawho @coxrtizz @hyunjinights

˚₊‧୨୧─────────────୨୧‧₊˚

The practice room was louder than usual.

Music blasted through the speakers while your group finished rehearsing for an upcoming comeback. The moment the song ended, everyone collapsed onto the floor.

“I can’t feel my legs,” one member groaned.

“I don’t think I have legs anymore,” another replied dramatically.

You laughed, grabbing your water bottle. Just as your leader was about to dismiss everyone, the studio door opened. One of your managers peeked inside.

“Y/N?”

You looked up.

“The company’s asking for you.”

“…Now?”

She nodded.

“The conference room.”

The room instantly filled with teasing.

“Ooo.”

“Did you break something?”

“You’re getting promoted.”

“No,” another member gasped dramatically. “She’s getting fired.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m literally coming back.”

A few minutes later… You stood outside one of the larger conference rooms inside JYP. The moment you stepped inside, you noticed several familiar faces.

Marketing.

Creative directors.

Managers.

Even one of the executives.

“…Hello.”

“Thank you for coming.”

You bowed politely before taking a seat.

One of the creative directors smiled.

“We have a project we’d like to offer you.”

Your curiosity immediately piqued.

“A music video.”

You blinked.

“For one of our solo artists.”

“Oh?”

“The concept follows two strangers who gradually fall in love.”

Cute.

Pretty standard.

“We’ve already chosen who we’d like to cast alongside you.”

Your manager looked over.

“They’re from NEXZ.”

“NEXZ?” You asked

The creative director nodded.

“Yu.”

Silence.

You’d seen him around the company plenty of times.

Always polite.

Always bowing.

Always smiling.

He was talented.

Sweet.

“…Really?” You asked

“We think the two of you naturally fit the concept.”

Before you could answer...

“We’ve already spoken with NEXZ’s management.”

“They’ve accepted.”

Your manager smiled.

“So?”

You laughed softly.

“I’d love to.”

✿ ˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚ ✿

Meanwhile…

Inside NEXZ’s practice room…

“So…” Tomoya folded his arms.

“What exactly did they want?”

Yu finished tying his shoelaces.

“They asked me to film a music video.”

The room nodded.

“Cool.”

“With Y/N sunbae.”

The room froze.

“What?”

“THE Y/N?” Haru asked, yelling.

Yu rubbed the back of his neck.

“…Yeah.”

Haru immediately started laughing.

“Oh, he’s cooked.”

Hyui pointed dramatically.

“You have to act in a romance?”

“I don’t think I can.”

Yuki burst into laughter.

“You have to stare into her eyes.”

Tomoya grabbed Yu’s shoulders.

“No blinking.”

“No laughing.”

“No panicking.”

Yu buried his face in his hands.

“I’m panicking already.”

♡₊˚─────────────˚₊♡

The first day of filming somehow arrived much faster than either of you expected.

You stood outside the filming studio, adjusting the sleeve of your hoodie as your manager finished checking the schedule.

“Hair first.”

“Then wardrobe.”

You nodded.

“Got it.”

The moment you stepped inside, the set was already buzzing with people. Stylists rushed around carrying racks of clothes. Camera operators adjusted equipment. The director stood near the monitors discussing the shot list. It felt busy. Comfortably busy.

You bowed politely as you walked past everyone.

“Good morning.”

“Morning, Y/N.”

One of the assistants smiled before pointing toward the dressing rooms.

"They’re almost ready for you.”

Just as you started walking away.

The set doors opened again.

A small group walked in.

You immediately recognized them.

NEXZ.

The members bowed politely to everyone as they entered before their manager guided them toward the set.

Your eyes landed on Yu for only a second before you looked away.

He bowed.

“Hello, sunbae.”

You smiled before bowing back.

“Good morning.”

For some reason…

The interaction made both of you slightly nervous. Tomoya watched the entire exchange. Then slowly leaned toward Hyui.

“They’re awkward already.”

Hyui nodded.

“It’s kind of cute.”

Yu heard every word.

“…I can hear you.”

“We know.”

୨ৎ──────────────୨ৎ

About thirty minutes later…

Both of you had finished hair and makeup.

The stylist stepped back with a satisfied smile.

“There.”

You glanced in the mirror.

Simple.

Natural.

Exactly what the concept called for.

Across the room, Yu had finished getting ready too.

The director clapped his hands together.

“Perfect.”

“Let’s do the thumbnail.”

Almost immediately, everyone turned toward the two of you.

You walked over.

Yu did the same.

The two of you ended up standing beside each other.

Neither of you really knew what to do.

“So…”

“So…”

Silence.

The director smiled.

“I actually love this.”

Both of you blinked.

“…What?”

“You already look like two people who want each other, but who don’t know how to talk to each other.”

The entire staff laughed.

Your cheeks immediately warmed.

Yu rubbed the back of his neck.

The director laughed.

“Perfect.” “Don’t change a thing.”

The first scene was simple.

The two of you were supposed to walk through a small flower market together.

No dialogue.

Just smiles.

Easy.

Or at least…

It should’ve been.

“Action.”

The two of you started walking.

Halfway through the scene…

You accidentally bumped shoulders.

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, that was my—”

“Cut!” The director laughed.

“No apologizing.”

Both of you looked confused.

“Huh?”

“If two people accidentally bump shoulders while they’re walking together…”

He smiled.

“They usually just laugh.”

“…”

“…Oh.”

“Let’s try it again.”

Take two.

“Action.”

This time, when your shoulders bumped…

You both looked at each other.

Then laughed naturally.

Neither of you had planned it.

The laughter just… Happened.

“Cut!”

The director immediately smiled.

“There it is.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted.”

The crew nodded in agreement.

One of the camera operators quietly whispered,

“They’re actually adorable.”

Neither of you heard him.

But your managers definitely did.

And judging by the smiles they exchanged…

They had a feeling this project was going to be a lot easier than anyone expected.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒─────୨୧────🌷͙֒𓍢ִ໋

The filming continued for hours, the tension between you and Yu shifting from awkwardness to a simmering, electric curiosity. The director was pushing for more "intimacy," which in the world of K-pop music videos usually meant lingering gazes and accidental touches, but as the day progressed, the boundaries began to blur.

The next scene was the pivotal one: the "First Spark." The set was a cozy, dimly lit library with golden light filtering through high windows. You were supposed to be reaching for the same book at the same time, leading to a moment of breathless proximity.

"Action!"

You reached up, your fingers brushing the spine of a worn leather book. Simultaneously, a warm hand pressed against yours. You gasped softly, turning your head to find Yu inches away.

Up close, he didn't look like the shy junior you'd seen in the halls. His eyes were intense, searching yours with a hunger that you don’t believe was in the script. The air between you thickened, heavy with the scent of his cologne and the sudden, frantic beat of your own heart.

The spell broke. Crew members let out a collective sigh, and the low hum of set activity resumed. Yu’s hand retreated from yours, the sudden absence of his warmth leaving a cool void. He took a step back, the professional mask sliding back into place, but the ghost of his smirk still lingered around his eyes. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat you hoped no one else could hear.

"That's lunch!"

After the crew broke for lunch, the director pulled you both aside. His eyes were bright with the thrill of a captured moment.

“Look, whatever that was, it’s magic. But you two keep breaking character with the shy head turns. I need you to get comfortable. Go to Studio 3-D. Spend fifteen, twenty minutes just holding eye contact. No talking, no laughing. Just look at each other. Find your focus.”

Studio 3-D was one of the smaller studios. The walls were lined with sound padding, making the room soundproof. As soon as you both walked in, Yu headed for the chair on the left, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. You offered him a small smile, one that felt shaky on your lips, before sitting in the chair across from him.

“So,” you began, your voice a little too loud in the quiet room. “Do you just want to go ahead and practice?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice low and smooth.

You both rolled your chairs closer, the wheels rolling softly against the carpet. The space between them narrowed to a couple of feet. You took a breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze.

You looked into his dark brown eyes, trying to find a neutral place to anchor your focus. It was difficult. He was so close, and the feeling of his hand on yours, his body heat, his gaze on you. You had always had a bit of a crush on Yu, well more a deep admiration that had curdled into something warmer over time. He was a phenomenal dancer, a sharp and clever rapper, a reliable hyung to his members. He just did it all, and made it look effortless. And, you had to admit to yourself in the quiet of your mind, he had always been fine as hell. You loved watching him in work mode; the focused intensity in his eyes during a music video shoot, the power of his stage performances.

Looking at him now, you noticed his gaze kept flickering downwards, away from your eyes, just for a second, before snapping back up. It happened again. And again. A nervous giggle bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it.

“Is something on my face?” you asked, touching your cheeks instinctively.

A faint blush crept up his neck, coloring the skin above his collar. “No,” he said, his voice quieter now. He shyly rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor. He looked younger in that moment, less like the polished idol on stage and more like a boy caught doing something he shouldn’t. Then he looked back up, his eyes meeting yours with a startling directness.

“I was actually looking at how pretty your lips are,” he admitted.

Another giggle escaped, this one pure surprise. You hadn’t expected that, not in a million years.

He seemed to take your laughter as encouragement. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve always thought you were pretty,” he continued, his voice gaining confidence. “I was even a fan of your group before we even debuted.”

Him saying all of this, laying it out so plainly, made your face grow hot. The blush you’d seen on him now bloomed across your own cheeks, a spreading wave of heat that you could feel down to your collarbones. The air in Studio 3-D suddenly felt too thin, too warm to breathe.

As the tension built, you were emboldened by Yu's confession; you leaned forward, your breath ghosting over his lips, and whispered, 'Prove it,' challenging him to act on his words and kiss you, right there in the studio.

His breath caught. You saw his throat move as he swallowed.

For one suspended heartbeat, neither of you moved. The overhead lights continued their soft hum. The soundproofing held the world at bay. And then his hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw with a gentleness that made your eyes flutter half-closed.

Yu kissed you.

His lips were softer than you’d imagined, warm and careful at first, like he was asking a question. The pressure was light, testing, his fingertips still resting against the curve of your jaw as if you were something fragile. You began leaning into him, your hand finding the front of his shirt, the cotton soft and slightly warm from his skin.

A sound escaped him, low and surprised, and then the kiss deepened.

His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. The chair rolled against the floor as you shifted closer, as much as the armrests would allow. Not close enough. Not nearly close enough.

You broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to see his face. His eyes were darker now, pupils blown wide, his lips slightly parted.

"That," you breathed, your voice coming out breathless, "was a pretty good start."

A grin spread across his face, slow and bright, the kind of smile you’d seen on stage a hundred times but never directed at you, never like this. "A start?" He raised an eyebrow, his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of your neck that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "I was just getting warmed up."

You laughed, and the sound felt giddy, like champagne bubbles popping in your chest. "O-RLY?"

"Really."

He stood abruptly, the chair rolling back and bumping against the wall with a muffled thud. His hand found yours, fingers interlacing, and he tugged you gently to your feet.

The moment you were standing, his hands were on your waist, steering you backward. Your shoulder blades met the soundproofed wall, the foam padding yielding slightly under you, and then he was there, his body warm against you.

His lips found your jaw first, a featherlight brush that made your breath hitch. Then the corner of your mouth, teasing. Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and you could feel his heartbeat through the thin cotton, a rapid counterpoint to your own.

"Someone's impatient," he murmured against your skin, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"You're the one who pushed me against a wall."

"Fair point."

And then he was kissing you again, properly this time, no hesitation and no restraint. His hands slid from your waist to your hips, fingers pressing into the soft curve of your body through her your. The kiss turned hungry, searching. Your fingers found their way into his hair, the dark strands silky between your knuckles, and you tugged lightly.

The sound he made vibrated against your lips, something between a hum and a groan.

A giggle bubbled up in your throat, impossible to contain. You pulled back, your head resting against the padding, and looked at him. His hair was mussed now, sticking up in the back where your fingers had been. His lips were flushed and slightly swollen, and he looked at you like you were something miraculous.

"Your hair," you said, reaching up to smooth it down, your touch lingering.

He caught your wrist, pressing a kiss to your neck. His lips brushed the sensitive skin there, and your stomach tightened. "You're one to talk." His free hand gestured vaguely at your own disheveled state. "You look..."

His voice trailed off, his eyes tracing the line of your cheekbone, the curve of your now puffy lips, the pulse beating visibly at your throat.

"What?" The word came out breathless.

His gaze lifted to meet yours, and the intensity there made you forget how to inhale. "You look even prettier when you're flustered, sunbae."

Your face heated. "Shut up."

"Make me."

The challenge hung in the air between you. You felt the laughter building again, that silly, reckless joy that came from crossing a line. Your hands smoothed over his thick shoulders, feeling the shift of his big ass muscles beneath his shirt, the warmth of his skin. So many years of watching him from a distance, admiring the precision of his choreography, the sharpness of his rap delivery, the easy confidence he carried. And now here you were, pinned against a studio wall, his breathing uneven and his composure thoroughly dismantled.

He didn't answer with words. His hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, his thumbs skimming the outer curve of your ribs. Your breath stuttered. His mouth found the hollow beneath your ear, not a kiss exactly, just the warm pressure of his lips resting there, a question waiting to be asked.

"Yu," you whispered again, and his name was the only thing left in your head, a mantra, a heartbeat.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, really look at you. His eyes searched your face, and whatever he found there made his expression soften, made his hands tighten on your waist.

"I've been waiting for this," he said, "for longer than you know."

You opened your mouth to respond, to ask what he meant, to demand specifics and timelines and every detail of what had kept him silent for so long. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes dark and dilated.

But he wasn't finished.

"I can't just leave it at that," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "I've been wanting you for so long, Y/N. I can't go back out there and pretend I'm not thinking about how you feel."

His hand slid lower, fingers curling around the inside of your thigh, squeezing gently. The pressure was firm. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Tell me you don't want this, and I'll go back to my chair and stare at the wall until the time is up."

But your body betrayed you. Your knees fell open, just a fraction, an invitation. Your lips parted, but no words came out; only a shaky exhale that sounded like surrender.

He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. His lips brushed yours softly, tentative, almost questioning. When you didn’t retreat, he pressed closer, deepening the kiss just a fraction. His lips were warm and now very puffy, tasting faintly of the coffee he’d had at lunch.

His hand slid up to cup your jaw, thumb tracing your cheekbone with reverent tenderness. The kiss was slow, unhurried, like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were hazy, his breathing shallow.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, dark pools swallowing the brown of his irises. His hand slid from your jaw down the side of your neck, fingers grazing the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. "I know we should stop," he murmured, but his hand didn't stop moving. It traced down to the collar of your shirt, fingertips slipping just beneath the fabric. "I know we only have a few minutes left. But I can't..." “Yu.” He didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he leaned in again, but this time his kiss was different. Hungrier. His lips parted yours with urgent need, his tongue sliding against your lower lip, asking for entry. When you granted it, a low sound rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your mouth. His hands found your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt. His hands immediately found your ass, squeezing through your pants, pulling you against him. You gasped into his mouth as you felt the firm length of him pressing against your core, even through the layers of denim. His hips bucked up instinctively, grinding against you. "Fuck," he breathed against your neck, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. "I need to feel you. Please. Just..." His hands fumbled with the button of your pants, trembling with restraint. "Tell me if it's too much." He positioned himself, the broad, hot head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You were slick and open, your body practically begging for the fullness of him. With a slow, deliberate push, he slid inside. You let out a sharp, choked gasp. He was thick, filling you, stretching you in a way that felt both invasive and incredibly right. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him, his muscles trembling from the effort of holding back. His grip on your thigh tightened. "God, you feel incredible." He began to move with slow, deep thrusts that filled your walls with every push. Each slide forward felt like he was claiming every inch of you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with the distant noise of the crew outside. You were shaking, your breath coming in jagged sobs as you clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "Yu... please... I'm going to..." The risk of being caught only added to the heat, making every thrust feel more illicit, more dangerous. Yu’s pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting softly at your skin, marking you where the cameras wouldn't see. He increased the speed, grinding against you with a precision that pushed you right to the edge. The sensation was overwhelming, a white-hot coil of tension snapping deep in your gut. "I'm not... I'm not letting you go after this, sunbae" he growled, his voice vibrating against your skin. "This music video... it's just the start." He gave one last, powerful surge, driving himself as deep as possible as he hit his own limit. Your body arched violently, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you limp and gasping in his arms. Yu didn't stop immediately; he held you through the aftershocks, his breathing heavy and erratic. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes dark and dilated. He let out a shaken whimper, his body stiffening as he came deep inside you, filling you with a warmth that made you shiver. For a few minutes, neither of you moved. The only sound was the synchronized thumping of two hearts beating wildly. Yu slowly withdrew, the sound of the slide making you whimper. He quickly cleaned you both up with a handful of towels from a nearby shelf, his movements efficient but his eyes still burning with an intensity that promised this wasn't a one-time occurrence. Just as he zipped up and helped you adjust your clothes, the voice of the director boomed through the studio speakers.

"Y/N! Yu! We're ready for the library scene! Get back to set!"

Yu stepped back, smoothing out his shirt. He looked perfectly composed, the polite, sweet junior again, but as he turned to lead you out, he leaned in and whispered in your ear.

"Try to keep a straight face when the cameras start rolling, sunbae."

“You do the same Yu.”

He gave you a playful, wicked wink and opened the door, letting you step out into the light as if nothing had happened but would surely happen again.

[divorcearchive]

행복 幸せ Happy 🦌🐶☺

[kpop-locks]

꒰ ˀˀ ↷ nexz ; mmchk ”♡ᵎ ꒱

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