#Spool Market | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

augustinewrites · 2 years ago

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your little flower stall is strategically set up a few feet from one of the trendiest restaurants in this area of tokyo.

it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate when he’s already ten minutes late for his date. he’d quite literally just left work, a last minute meeting having forced him to get ready in the back of his car in his haste to arrive somewhat on time. his shirt is untucked and his pants are wrinkled from being left in the trunk for so long.

he winces when he catches his reflection in a window, running a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. he definitely can’t show up empty handed when he’s late and looking like this.

“good evening,” he greets, a little breathless as he approaches your stall. his eyes scan the bouquets available, looking for any safe picks and frowning when he realizes you’re out of roses. so he shrugs and picks up whatever’s closest. some kind of yellow flower.

“yellow carnations?” you murmur as he digs into his pocket for his wallet, prompting him to glance up at you. “an odd choice.”

“how do you mean?”

“it’s an unusual choice for a date, is all.”

he raises his brows. “how do you know they’re for a date?”

“oh, come on,” you grin, leaning against the counter. “a handsome guy like you doesn’t have someone to buy flowers for?”

he knows it’s probably just a marketing pitch, but his ego swells nonetheless. “handsome, huh?”

you simply shrug - tease - and place the carnations back into their bucket to grab a different bouquet. you cut a strip of white ribbon from its spool, winding it around the stems. “go with these instead. if your date knows anything about flowers, these will definitely get you laid.”

reo actually laughs at that, as he strongly doubts the wannabe influencer he’d been set up with knows much about the meanings of flowers, but he’ll take your word for it. he hands you his card, not-so-secretly hoping that you’d caught a glimpse of his name on its surface before you swiped it through your machine.

when you return it to him, he pulls a handful of bills out of his wallet and stuffs them into your tip jar.

“oh,” you start. “that’s too much–”

he flashes you a smile that’s been called ‘swoon-worthy’ before, waving you off as he tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “don’t worry about it! you’re saving my life here.”

“your sex life, you mean?” you quip, but your eyes sparkle at his praise as you hand him the bouquet. “well, thank you for your patronage, sir.”

he quickly dips his head in thanks, a little reluctant as he heads towards the restaurant.

_____

monday mornings aren’t especially busy for you, as bleary eyed office workers don’t have much need for flowers.

which is why you’re surprised when the man from last friday starts approaching your stall, holding a cup of what you assume must be coffee. he doesn’t quite look like you remember, from the impeccable cut of his suit to the way his hair is neatly pulled back. he’s even wearing aviators that you’re sure would look ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason make him look like a movie star.

he pulls them off with his free hand and hangs them off the pocket of his bag, waving at you like you’re old friends. he looks so earnest and excited that you can’t do much else than blush and raise your hand in response.

“morning,” he greets once you’re close enough to hear. “this is for you. for last friday. i wasn’t sure what you’d like so i just got their special.”

he holds out the cup, whose logo you now recognize from the overpriced cafe down the street. you take it, smiling. “i take it your date went well then?”

he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging. “sure.”

“did you come to buy her more flowers?”

“ah…i don’t think i’ll see her again.”

you perk up at that. just a little. “oh?”

“yeah,” he sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “i, uh, kinda wanna see where things go with someone else.”

oh, of course there’s someone else. a guy like him probably never has a shortage of options. (and who are you not to capitalise on that?) “maybe some flowers will help.”

you think there’s something mischievous in his smile. “definitely. what do you recommend?”

_____

reo is running out of places to put his flowers.

they’re all over his office. they line the entirety of his windowsill and take over the free space on his desk. a small clump of white daisies in an old coffee mug. a single rose in his pen cup. his assistant has to crane her head around a vase of lilies to deliver her reports at the end of each day.

what can he say? you’re one hell of a salesperson. if anyone had asked him what his favourite flower was before, he’d have no idea what to tell them. in truth, he’d never given much thought to something so impermanent as flowers.

but you easily become a permanent part of his routine. each day he stops at your stall, utilising the information he’d gathered from the internet just moments before to impress you with an educated floral choice.

you always smile when you hand him the bouquet, and he wonders how your product isn’t sold out at the end of each day, with a smile as enamouring as yours.

when his office is overrun by floral accents, he starts bringing them home instead. his neighbours gush about what a great boyfriend he is each time they catch him returning with a new arrangement. they say that whoever he’s coming home to must be a ‘very special someone.’

they don’t know that it’s just nagi, who barely looks up from whatever game he’s playing but comments mildly that he didn’t think reo was a flower guy.

“everyone’s a flower guy,” he’d quipped as he unwrapped the brand new vase he’d bought to accompany the bouquet of peonies and anemones you’d given him.

and if nagi noticed he’d come home blushing the day you called him your most important customer, he didn’t say anything.

_____

“hey,” he asks on a particularly slow sunday afternoon. you’re in the process of wrapping - by his request - a bundle of lilacs, which happen to be your favourite flower. “come to lunch with me. i can get us a table—” he points to the restaurant behind you. “—there.”

you don’t answer right away, allowing yourself a moment to make sure you’ve heard him right. “what would your girlfriend think?”

he looks confused as you hold the lilacs out to him. “girlfriend?”

“yeah…isn’t she the one you’ve been buying all these flowers for?”

he blinks a few times before hanging his head with a chuckle. “no i— i don’t have a girlfriend.”

he doesn’t have a girlfriend. so that would mean…

“you’re asking me out,” you realize, averting your gaze to the counter with all the awkwardness of a kid receiving their first valentine. “i’d love to, but i can’t just close—”

“what would you make in a day?” he blurts. “ideally.”

“well, ideally i’d be sold out—”

he flips his wallet open and hands you his card. “i’ll take everything then.”

“everything?” you echo.

he shrugs, shooting you a wink. “what can i say? i’m a flower guy.”

“reo,” you laugh, pushing his card back towards him. “i’m not going to let you pay me to go out with you. just go grab some takeout and come back here. a pretty face like yours is bound to sell.”

“you’re whoring me out for business?”

“i’m just being entrepreneurial,” you counter.

he crosses his arms over his chest, a handsome grin on his face. “alright, but i’ll need to be compensated for my efforts. maybe even with a kiss…”

you roll your eyes (albeit with a smile) as you point at the restaurant. “at least buy me lunch first.”

#reo x reader #they get married and open a flower shop #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff

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cravinganescape · 2 years ago

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The Seiko UC-2000 was one of the first "smart watches" to hit the market in 1984. The watch itself could store up to 2k data, perform calculator functions, and, of course, tell time.

The UC-2200 (bottom image) was an external keyboard dock that offered additional computer functionalities with its spool-fed printer, 4K of RAM and a 26K of ROM via a plug-in Application ROM pack (Microsoft Basic) – other ROM packs had games or an English to Japanese translation app.

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d0llcuries · 9 days ago

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ICE-CREAM FOR TWO

pairing(s): reiner braun x fem! reader

summary: you hated him for dragging you to marley, for every stolen chance at freedom. you expected the feeling to be mutual as you rented him for four long years but it wasn't. what better way to address this than ice-cream!

author's note: uh, i guess i write for aot now. blame my cousin and her insistence on getting me addicted to this stupid show for the possibility of inaccurate writing. i love reiner pls send requests for aot 🤲🏽

the market cradled you today in a way almost cruel, with its heat and grit pressing close, air thick with burnt coffee, iron on the breeze, syrupy traces of cotton candy and caramel inviting you into the hic et nunc, although you didn’t want to be. you hated this noise, this heat, the whole crowded mess of voices folding together like waves. you hated how it almost felt like home. you hated how you could almost trick yourself into calling it that if you tried hard enough. a mirror showing something soft, distant, something that could’ve been yours in some other life. no matter how warm the market held you, the truth settled somewhere beneath it all. this land is borrowed, marley is not home, and no amount of rose-tinted glass could change that.

under a washed-out sky, baskets burst with flowers like muted fireworks, children racing in loops, dogs tangled and nipping at their heels. you thought about reiner before you saw him. he was sitting across the square, shoulders hunched as if he were carrying every brick and stone of marley on his back, the same as he’d carried those in paradis. he looked like he was far away, somewhere only he knew how to reach. you still saw that ghost of the soldier you thought he was back then, before everything came apart.

you’d told yourself you wouldn’t go near him, wouldn’t let him know that, after all this time, you’d never quite stopped noticing him. you wonder why you think of him so much, why he takes up all this space in your mind even when he's not near. it was strange how close you were and weren’t, your lives spooled together and then split, moth-eaten like old twine.

but then gabi’s voice broke into your thoughts.

“hey, yn! can you buy us ice cream, please? come on, it’s not far! the ice-cream stand's like.. right around the corner, and i haven’t had any in soooooo long!” gabi stretched out the ‘so long’ ensuring that you felt every inch of the ache that came from a whole season without the taste of frozen sugar. she practically sang, her sticky hand finding yours and pulling before you’d had a chance to respond.

before you knew it, you were standing at the old ice-cream stand, faded to a dull blue, the wood bleached and splintering under too many hot days. the vendor, an older man with sunburned skin and tired eyes, barely lifted his gaze as he rattled off the list of flavors available.

while you hadn’t chosen this home, you chose these people, or maybe they chose you in some inexplciable way. the days of resentment, the times you’d longed to be anywhere but marley, softened over time. gabi, falco, and udo, each of them with their bright, trusting faces had managed to bring out a warmth in you that you’d forgotten was there. you hadn’t planned to love them, but they’d worked their way into the little cracks between loneliness and anger, without effort or warning. it felt like love. you loved them.

“please, please, please?” gabi’s voice tumbled out, each please more insistent than the last. you pressed your lips together, trying to chase away the smile that wanted to break free, but there was no stopping it. the vendor cleared his throat, glancing at the line of customers that was growing behind you, and that pressure paired with gabiʼs nagging commenced the immediate collapse of any resolve you’d held and any remaining choice you had.

“alright, alright,” you murmured. “three, please,” you said, “two caramel swirls… and a chocolate.”

you pull the coins from your purse, and slide them across the vendor’s counter, a quick glance past the crowd where you know reiner’s somewhere out there, not close but close enough. you dig back into your purse, pull out enough for an extra ice cream, and place it on the wood. “and one more, vanilla.”

the vendor didn't blink. he handed you the cones with a practiced indifference, the soft edges already drooping in the heat, melting faster than they should. gabi snatched hers right away, giving a quick “thanks!” but not really looking at you. she didn’t need to, her appreciation was in her wide-eyed grin and the way she immediately started devouring the cone as if she’d waited years for it. udo took his with a quiet “thank you,” glancing at the cone like it was the first good thing he’d seen all day. falco gave a small nod, not meeting your eyes, as if the simple gesture was too much kindness to take all at once.

you glance at the extra cone in your hand, and you think about the boy—no, man—you had brought it for.

your gaze flickered to the square, and there he was, his silhouette made of pale, ghostly gold and all the fragments that cling to it. the blond of his hair catches and curls like a match struck in silence as he rests on the bench with moss staining its feet in a green kiss. “stay close. don't wander off,” you murmur to gabi and the boys, a mother’s instinct in a stranger’s affection. the market seems to swell as faces blur into patches of color and shadow.

usually heʼd be the one buying them the sweets, trailing behind like he belonged to the children, not the other way around. he’d slip coins to the vendor, barely seen, to make sure the kids stayed kids, get them something sweet to carry home sticky on their fingers. his presence made the kids feel safe. that was his gift to them.

he didn’t see you, not at first, lost in whatever he’d wrapped around himself, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes focused on something far off, his expression pulled into that mask of solemnity that’s so familiar it hurts. there’s a ghost of a frown in his brow from spending too much time thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. it was only when you were close enough that he looked up, startled, it was clear he wasn't expecting to see you. there was a tension in him, he sort of resembled an animal caught between choices, wanting to flee but rooted to the spot.

“i thought you’d want one,” you said, holding the cone out. it wasn’t often that you spoke to him this way, or at all. not about something as simple as ice-cream.

he stared at it first, then up at you. for a heartbeat you thought he might actually refuse it, let the ice-cream coat your hand with melted stickiness just to spite you for they way you resented him for the past four years.

“they give that to you for free?” he said, his eyes drifted somewhere just beyond the market stalls, like he was only half-invested in the jab.

something in his tone snagged, left a thin, invisible cut. he had every reason to say it, you supposed, but it still bruised in a way it shouldn’t. “no,” you shot back, trying not to let his offhand remark knock too hard against the satisfaction you’d felt just moments ago. “i bought it for you.”

with a breath soft as surrender, he looked up at you, and you could feel it, the way he saw you, had always seen you, from the days you were both cadets stumbling through ranks and routines. he’d always thought you were pretty, even when thought you didn't interact often.

the word devil was supposed to define you. reiner was trained to see you that way, to let a thick wall of prejudice stand between you both, forged over years of lessons and oaths. in marley, they pressed that word into people like you, used it to shape you into something repulsive. it was easy to believe it as a child, to see you through the war-stained images they painted, to think of you as something marley’s soldiers had been trained to conquer and devastate. but somehow, that wall never felt as solid with you. he tried to keep it up, you could tell from the way his gaze would shift from warm to cold so quickly, his jaw setting hard as if he was gripping some old lesson, forcing himself to remember why he wasn’t supposed to care. and you hated him for it as much as you didn’t. it was like he had stolen every sense of belonging from you, yet kept a fragile piece of it alive in himself, offering it back in little moments you refused to trust.

he’d always figured he’d have to wait, maybe forever for that forgiveness, if it came at all. for four years, he’d held onto the hope that one day you might look at him without that burning hatred in your eyes. over time, he’d let that hope slip through his fingers, learning to live in the shadow of what he thought he’d ruined.

but now, standing here, he felt something he hadn’t dared to let himself feel in a long time. the way you looked at him was different—not hardened or distant, but softened, like there was warmth in you meant just for him. it was subtle, but it caught him completely off guard, a look that lingered a little too long, the edges softening just enough for him to see something he’d once believed was lost.

he wanted to say something, anything, to reach out, but he found himself rooted, afraid to break whatever delicate understanding hung between you. he’s always been so careful with you, so mindful of your boundaries. your gaze didn’t waver, and he felt it like a quiet ache, as if, finally, there was a chance your view of him had changed.

he took the cone with hands that were larger than you remembered, rough and scarred and cracked in places. in his grasp, the small offering looked absurdly delicate.

“thanks.”

you settle on the edge of the bench beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, but not quite touching.

“you didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice subdued, as if he was suppressing emotions that he couldn’t articulate.

“i wanted to,” you reply simply, the words soft but steady, a quiet confession hidden in plain sight. it’s not much, just a simple act of kindness, but it feels like more than that, like a tentative step toward something new, something neither of you quite knows how to name.

“i’m not good at this,” he admits after a long pause, the unexpected confession falling between you. he doesn’t look at you, eyes locked on the melting drip tracing a path down his knuckle.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “good at what?”

he’s quiet for a moment, so quiet that the hum of the market seems louder, pressing in from all sides. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hesitant. “being close. to anyone.”

you shift slightly, your knee brushing against his leg. it’s so slight it could be an accident, but it’s not. “well, you’re here now.”

he looks up at you then with an unconcealed reverence that makes your heart lurch in your chest, eyes softening around the edges, holding that mix of confusion and hope that makes him look almost boyish. “yeah, i am.”

the silence stretches, but this time it’s warm, inviting. you can see him wrestling with something, the way his jaw tightens, loosens, the way his thumb traces a line across the wood of the bench as if trying to ground himself.

“it’s strange,” he starts, eyes flickering to yours before darting away again, “this..” he nods to the space inbetween you, “feels like more than i deserve.”

your gaze lingers on him, and you swallow back the pool of savila resting on your tongue. “maybe we’re both not good at this,” you whisper, a shy honesty threading through your voice. “but i think we could be.”

he blinks. “you think so?”

“yeah,” you say, the word barely more than a breath but heavy with everything you mean. “i do.”

and for the first time in years, he lets himself believe it.

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun aot #reiner braun x you #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot #snk #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader

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mrsnancywheeler · 7 months ago

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I feel like... Finnick can be so Crow bf/husband material.

So, like, him just going about his day (mayhaps on his way to or from a swim) and he sees something that catches his eyes; maybe it's a heart-shaped rock, or a shell, or even some sea glass and his first thought is always "oh, my s/o will love this"

He'll pick it up and pocket it and take it straight home.

And it's not even just random bits of pretty nature; if he sees something at the markets (ie; a pretty bracelet, a spool of ribbon in your favorite color, etc.) and yk he's getting it for you. (Heavy on the ribbon bc yk he'd learn hair braiding techniques with it or he'd let you tie a ribbon around his arm; whatever suits your fancy)

Safe to assume you have a little drawer somewhere in the house for all these trinkets & a scrapbook full of pressed flowers, scraps of fabric, ribbon, and pieces of paper from certain events.

Point is, that he sees a bit of you everywhere he goes and it gives him a possibility to show off his two biggest love languages: Acts of Service & Gift Giving.

110% Finnick is gift giving his little butt off, there are just jars of seashells and sea glass all around the house because he thought of you when he saw them. photo frames you've decorated with them because you need to make space for all the trinkets he brings you. they're around the doorways, in the garden to decorate around the flowers, around the little pond he dug you, around the mirror, this man is a lover.

he could truly buy the market out of house and home because he's always finding something for you. jewelry, your favorite fruit, bouquets, little knickknacks that remind him of your niche interests, wind chimes, things he'll know you'll find beauty in and want to polish up (even though he'll insist on doing said polishing for you),postcards, baskets, etc etc etc. type of guy you softly scold because he spotted a rock at like a restraunts garden or something and is snatching it because it reminds him of you, but he's just the sweetest.

he sees you everywhere

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #pinkanon-com

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geodethecrow · 3 months ago

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summer is dying early this year. perhaps it is a summer of death, of the snapped sunflower that was eleven feet tall before the wind took it, of a deer still splattered on a windshield, of my cat slowly getting skinnier. the summer of shelf fungus on a downed tree’s corpse, of the power lines spooled on the road after a bad storm, of the volunteer squash plant in my front yard flowering but not fruiting for lack of pollination, living but unable to carry on beyond a single iteration. it had a younger sister, once, across the sidewalk to our porch, before I squared the first one in brick to ward off the lawnmower.

it's barely August and already the night breeze is taunting me with hints of the ice to come. it's spreading up the stalk and bursting cell walls with spikes of remembrance and anticipation of what winter truly does to me. fall is lovely but it leads to the season of my bones being covered in hoarfrost and my brain cracking apart like a calving glacier, and I want to spend as little time as possible in the dark. so I cling to what summer is leaving behind, the baskets of peaches at the farmers’ market and the sunburn warming my cheeks. I hope the turning leaves burn bright enough to stave off winter for a while.

#my writing #the crow rambles #candlelight musings #tw death

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zarnzarn · 26 days ago

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I absolute adore your Athena fic and how you interpreted “make her kingdom fall” as Athena’s mind but I had an angsty thought. Yes Athena is the goddess of wisdom, of strategy, of so many mental thing but she is also the goddess of handicrafts, especially weaving. Something that would be incredibly difficult with such severe burns and burn scars……

anyway, just a thought.

BRO DONT DO THIS OMG.....

oh dude but youre so right.... She picks up some thread at the market with Telemachus one day for his mother's birthday, and smiles fondly at Penelope's squealing enthusiasm for the gift, picking up a protesting Telemachus in a hug and squeezing Athena's hand gratefully. She begs for Athena to try out the thread with her, dragging her over to the loom and sitting her down, asking for tips and tricks.

and athena sighs and removes her metal gloves to pick up the thread and-

Cries out. Drops the shuttle, knocks over the loom as the sharp pain that burns through her, the fine thread sliding across her palm in a motion she had done so many times turned into an agonizing line of fire along the burns she had just realized were the reasons her hands had been so tender and sore. Penelope rushes over and grabs for her hands, Telemachus going for the thread and cutting it away before the ichor can disintegrate the spool fully.

Penelope manages to get Athena's hands away from where she'd clutched them against her chest, prying them open and gasping in horror, a hand going to her mouth. They stare down at the ruined mess of them, pink and shiny and raw, bleeding in the middle.

Athena looks down mutely, feeling the shame and mortification settle heavy on her. Even weaving. Even weaving he took from her. Goddess of Weaving, and she could no longer do even that.

For a moment, she can barely bring herself to confront the fact that there were others standing in front of her- that Penelope and Telemachus were staring at her disgrace- then Penelope throws herself onto her, trying to fold Athena into her arms for comfort, sobbing.

Athena stares at nothing, blankly swinging her gaze to Telemachus, who is also crying, hands at his sides as he looks at her. She kneels down when Penelope pulls at her, lets herself be pulled under Penelope's chin, the Ithakan Queen, one of her chosen, and slowly rests her head against her chest as Penelope cries on her behalf.

Even weaving.

#GIVE HER THAT HUG PENELOPE #penath #penelope #athena #telemachus #HELLO ANGST TRAIN #shoutout bro. what an ask.#zeus #god games #epic the wisdom saga #asks

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pitufitaispunk · 1 month ago

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Velvet Ring

Chapter One: Unforgiving Sun

Pairing: Riff x Latina!Reader (West Side Story 2021)

Velvet Ring Masterlist

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

June 3, 1957

I groan dramatically as I try to cool myself down with Anita's red folding fan, the flimsy lace hardly does anything to relieve me of the humid air. I squirm in my bed, the fuzzy fabric of my knitted blanket feels unbearable against my skin in this heat. Just as I toss the fan onto the floor, Anita twirls into my bedroom with a flourish. She has a bright smile on her face, the puffed skirt of her lavender dress swishes as she walks.

She begins rummaging through my drawers aimlessly, "Nena, voy a recoger- is that my fan?" She points down to the floor, her brow quirked at me. I confess that I almost always take Anita’s things without asking her and she gets annoyed with me for it, but she can’t stay mad at me for long. We’re a lot like blood sisters in that way.

I smile sheepishly and quickly sit up, watching as Anita snatches the fan off the floor, "Can you blame me for taking it? It's the hottest day of summer!" I exclaim, adjusting the straps of my white slip.

Anita rolls her eyes at me and slams the dresser drawer shut, "It's not even 100 degrees out. Get up and get dressed. I'm going out to buy some fabric." Now it's my turn to quirk my brow at her.

"What are you buying more fabric for?" I ask. Anita tilts her head and sighs, as if I should know the reason why.

"You do remember there's going to be a dance in a few weeks, yes?"

I toss myself face down onto the bed again and groan, burying my face in my pillow, "¡No quiero ir! Nardo will make me go with one of his friends and I hate dancing in front of people and it will be so crowded-" Anita forces me to sit up.

"You're young! You should be enjoying your life, not spending it locked away in your room. The only time you ever get out of this apartment is to work. You're going to the dance y eso es definitivo. You'll wear a beautiful dress — thanks to me, of course— and I'll make sure Bernardo picks a friend that is a good dancer to be your date." Anita grins and I know her word is final.

I roll my eyes and get up from my bed, "Está bien. I'll come with you to buy the fabric, just let me get dressed." I walk over to my dresser and grab a blouse and a skirt.

Anita squeals excitedly and runs into the kitchen to grab her coin purse, "Apúrate, I want to go before the morning rush!"

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

I always loved going to the market with Anita, even on sweltering days like this. The bustling crowds and constant chatter made me feel at home. When we lived in Puerto Rico, my mother used to take Bernardo and I with her when she went shopping. Bernardo always hated it, the old ladies that worked the stalls would pinch his cheeks and comment on how handsome he was getting. My mother and I laughed at how embarrassed he would get. So now, I appreciate when Anita lets me tag along with her to the market.

Anita tsks softly as she looks through the different rolls of fabric, "I think I will make my dress black..." She mutters to herself.

I turn my head and gasp as I notice a sleek red fabric. Anita huffs a laugh, "Mamita, you know your brother would never let me make you a dress from that fabric."

I pout, "Why does he treat me like I'm still a baby? I'm 18, a grown up! I should be able wear whatever color dress I want." I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

Anita laughs, "Lo siento, Y/N, pero I'm making you a white dress... and if you want people to stop treating you like a baby, then stop pouting like one."

I scoff at her words. Deep down I know she’s right, but white is just so bland and boring. Who would notice the girl in the simple white dress? Nobody. It's like Bernardo wants me to be single all my life. That is if he doesn’t marry me off to one of his friends.

I sigh as Anita begins looking through the different spools of white fabric.

"I think you will look beautiful in this." She says with a smile, holding up a sheet of lacy white fabric.

I can't help the way my gaze softens as I imagine the delicate lace turned into a dress, "Maybe a white dress won't be so bad."

Anita pats my shoulder, grabbing a spool of black fabric for her dress and the lacy white fabric she picked for mine, "I'll go pay for these, you wait here." I nod, watching as Anita heads up to the vendor.

I hum softly to myself as I continue browsing the fabrics for fun as I wait for Anita to come back. Crash!

My head snaps up at the loud noise. I immediately see a group of white boys running away from knocked over crates of fruit a few stalls over. They laughed and whooped triumphantly as they made their escape, their pale sweaty skin glistening beneath the harsh sunlight. The Jets. I roll my eyes and am about to continue looking through the fabric when one boy catches my eye. I pinch my brows curiously as he picks up a mango from one of the knocked over crates and rubs it on his shirt, halfheartedly cleaning it before biting into it. The mango’s juice drips down his chin and onto his neck, I feel my cheeks heat up. I note that he’s a bit scrawny, he’s got slightly toned tattooed arms and a broad chest, but he’s still skinny enough where I wonder if this mango is the first ‘meal’ he’s had in a while. I slowly raise my gaze to his face again and realize he’s staring right at me. I’m frozen in place by his blue eyes. His lips quirk into a hint of a smirk before he hurries away to catch up with the other boys, tossing the bitten mango over his shoulder.

“Y/N!” Anita’s voice calls behind me, startling me just a bit. I turn and watch her walk over to me, a grin on her face and a brown paper bag in her hand. She shakes the bag slightly, making the fabrics inside rustle, “I got them. Let’s go home.” I nod and traipse behind Anita back to our apartment.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Once Anita and I get home, we’re greeted by Bernardo and two other Sharks at the dining room table. I notice they all look a bit serious, Nardo was tending to the wounds on his fists, but as soon as he notices us, he smiles.

“Hey, where were you two?” Bernardo asks kindly, though his brows were still slightly furrowed in concern. Nardo always did that. Whenever he’s feeling worried or scared about something, he slaps on a fake smile and acts like nothing is bothering him. Usually his concern is revolving around the Jets, but he never brought that business home. Sometimes, I can hear him and Anita talking about it through the walls, but he’s never spoken directly to me about the whole gang rivalry with the Jets.

Anita smiles and walks over to him, “We were just picking up some things for our dresses.” She leans down and kisses his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain. “¿Y ustedes? What were you doing?” Bernardo smiles broadly and guides Anita into his lap, “After we finished up at the gym, we talked about…” He looks up at me, his face hardening momentarily, “Things.” He gives her a tight lipped smile, Anita nods curtly in understanding.

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously and take a seat across from him, “What kind of things, Bernardo?” He just chuckles at me, “Don’t worry about that, pollita.” I roll my eyes at the nickname. It was my family’s name for me as a child because my legs were skinny like a baby chick’s. Bernardo always called me pollita in front of his friends to embarrass me. I assume he’s using it now to shut me up, but it takes a lot more than a little name to get me to stop talking.

I sigh, “Nardo, no soy una bebé. I should know about the Jets y-“ He shakes his head vehemently.

“No, pollita. Es demasiado peligroso, I don’t want you getting mixed up in all this. Tienes que entender que el mundo de las pandillas no es para chiquillas como tú.”

I slump in my seat in defeat. I knew my brother was serious and although I still felt like arguing with him, I knew that wouldn’t help me in convincing him that I am a mature adult. I decide to drop the topic of the Jets for now, but I was going to learn more about them one way or another.

I check the time and realize I have to start heading to work.

“Ya tengo que irme.” I mutter, standing from my seat. For the past three months, I've been working at a flower shop, La Orquídea. My boss, Señora Rivera, is a little old woman with curly gray hair and a shorter stature. She always wears bright red lipstick and the frilly pink apron from our uniform over a frumpy dress— she’s also always napping on the job. I don’t mind working at the florería too much. However, I previously wanted to get a job at Doc’s because Valentina is a kind woman and I feel comfortable with her, but Nardo protested the idea. He claimed that too many Jets hung around Doc’s and that I should work somewhere that was deeper into Sharks territory. Obviously, I tried to reason with him, but when Nardo puts his foot down, he doesn’t budge.

Anita stands from Bernardo’s lap and hugs me, “Que tienes un buen día, nena.”

I smile at her then lean down to hug Nardo as well. He pats my back, “Ten cuidado.” He says softly, his expression serious as he points up at me.

I laugh, grabbing my purse and packed lunch from the kitchen counter, “I’m always careful.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

#mike faist #west side story #riff lorton #riff lorton x reader #anita #bernardo #west side story 2021 #mike faist x reader #riff west side story

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beautitudes · 4 months ago

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if you have, like me, lost your mind over the armandaniel interaction in episode 5 and you want it imprinted over the backs of your eyelids, here. for me and you both.

Curious…

[Armand stands over you. He’s commandeered your body.]

Rise. Armand. From Polynesian Mary’s, I was with Louis.

I can’t move…

Move your body?

Yeah… Yeah. I don’t want…

To die? On that item, I think I know something you don’t. I’m told you’ve lived a fascinating life.

I never said that.

No, Louis did.

[Leave him alone, Armand. Armand!]

You held Louis’ attention. He confessed his innermost secrets to you.

I wanted drugs… We didn’t even have sex, man.

A hundred and twenty-eight boys he’s brought here…

He said five.

… and you’re the first he didn’t consummate and drain.

[This is so bad!]

That makes you special.

Please, man. I’m just a shitty little kid from Modesto.

That warrants investigation.

I could be on my knees in a second.

Bartering with desire. Is that what makes you fascinating?

He didn’t even want me in the end. I mean, look at my neck! I’m fucking bleeding down to my ankles!

Vera?

She’s a single mother. Works in a titty bar on Market Street.

Kevin?

Some Vietnam vet who lives in the Castro with his Vietnamese refugee boyfriend with no legs.

You think in all these spools you’ve arrived at some ineffable truth?

Nah, it’s all bullshit.

An instinct to self-efface, is that what makes you fascinating?

Okay, yes. I’m good at getting angles, getting people to open up. I can’t feel my body, it’s freaking me out…

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Shh…

Armand!

You’re going to teach me how to be fascinating.

[Leave him be, Armand! Stop!]

In middle school, you stole your dad’s Playboy magazines, sold them at recess. A little dirty, a little deceitful, but it’s enterprising. Is that what makes you fascinating?

How are you..?

In high school, you told a girl you’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head. She agreed and you did it even as she cried. A splinter of coldness in you, is that what makes you fascinating?

My legs are starting to cramp…

Even his transgressions are ordinary, Louis, the pinhole’s closing back up!

Okay, it’s you who’s fascinating! You can red minds, right?

Louis thinks I’m boring.

I have Charlie horse, left leg…

Do you find me boring?

No…

Do you want to hear my story?

Yes. Yes! Yes.

My first memory. I’m being run down by slavers in Delhi. My second… Hmm. An eager black hole.

Oh my God.

I’ll keep digging. But I’m not hopeful there’s much more to you, Daniel, other than a hole.

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #armandaniel

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sabrinahawthorne · 5 months ago

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Meet The Cowboy

[image ID: A black & white illustration of a white woman wearing a denim jumpsuit, leaping upwards and away from the camera. The woman wears her hair in a loose ponytail, and a single devil's horn pokes from the left side of her forehead. Her left hand is raised in a fist, which glows with a magical energy. From between each knuckle on that fist emerge three taut, immaterial threads, implied to lead off-screen and towards some number of other combatants. End ID.]

The Cowboy never has a plan of action - they never think ahead. They make a mess, and use their quick thinking and quicker mouth to fight their way out.

Cowboy Touchstones:

- Kakashi Hatake (Naruto)

- Hat & Clogs (Bleach)

- Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop)

The Cowboy makes enemies wherever they go, but as a rule they themself don't hold a grudge. Correspondingly, they don't begin play with any Rivalries. Rather, they begin with two Loyalties, reflecting the surprising commitment and selflessness at the heart of their blasé attitude.

Allowing the Cowboy to wiggle out of all those tight squeezes are their seemingly endless array of tricks and feints. Their unique character progression mechanic, On Your Toes, exemplifies this, allowing them to swap out one known Technique for a new one of equal or lesser tier between scenes. This means that you'll never fight the same Cowboy twice; they'll always surprise you.

Cowboy Icon: Alice, Celebrity Thief of Lantis City

She/Her

Known to citizens of the Underworld as The Prince of Lies, Alice is a humanoid Chimera with a mysterious past. She spends most of her time menacing the upper class of Lantis; breaking into vaults, private chambers, and other high-security locations, stealing valuable trinkets and selling them on the black market.

Aiding her in her criminal life is Alice's Pneumatic Technique; Spooling Essence - Tapestry Thief. With it, she's able to pull on the strings of a person's soul, temporarily stealing attributes of their body or personality and taking them onto herself. She can steal their senses, their memories, or even their own Pneumatic Techniques - at least for a time.

To learn more about Alice, Lantis City, and CLASH!, Pledge to the Crowdfundr at Otaku: The Cowboy tier to get access to a mini-manga all about her adventures when you receive your physical copy of CLASH! Shonen Battle Roleplay.

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #ttrpg illustration #jump! shonen battle roleplay #clash! shonen battle roleplay #the cowboy

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elsewhereuniversity · 1 year ago

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Hi! How close is the current crazed sewing kit to completion? I’m a textile major- wait sorry, introductions- call me Rivet (not like the frog, like the metal thingy that holds things together) she/her. Anyways. I’m a textile major and I want to create the worlds most fucked up non-euclidian quilt. Its my capstone project. If the kit’s already claimed or not ready for usage/consumption/harvest, that’s alright, i have some favors and a variety of the currency the goblin market uses, but i’ve really got my eye on the weaving tablets and myriad pins of this iteration. I promise i’ll use it all though! Or, at least, i’ll keep the odds and ends tucked away for future projects. I’m willing to trade a ship in a bottle that sails on an ocean affected by tomorrow’s weather, a cursed bonefolder that actually, yknow, folds bones instead of paper, and a bolt of fabric i spun and wove myself. Nothing overtly magical about it, but it is a nice shade of red.

The fourth crazed sewing kit is ready and it is yours.

A swatch of bloodstained blue velvet

Swatches of stiff fabric that shift chameleon-like to match any other

A walnut shell containing yards of fabric woven from starshine

A bloodstained pincushion in the approximate form of a person, filled with human hair and fingernail clippings, among other things

A seam ripper that only cuts the threads you intend it to

A pair of iron shears, decorated with gilt filigree, which only cut things that have been measured twice

A needle of steel, which is efficient but bites

A needle used to stitch a wound, which now only pierces flesh

A needle of silver, used as a sword by a very small hand. Any thread spun through the eye is unbreakable while it's being sewn.

Thread of human hair, cut and regrown

Thread of human hair, golden

Thread of horsehair, one strand jet black and one snow-white

Thread of gold and of silver, the first of which sooths and the second of which energizes

Thread of variable length, glowing as though white hot

Fabric-pencils which trace possibilities, leaning theatrical

A mannequin which wants nothing more than to swap places with you, and will do so at the first opportunity

A spool of oakwood plated with gold, which ensures you will have just enough thread to finish any project you use it with.

A drop spindle of oakwood which turns hay to gold

Two buttons of silver which shine in the dark, from a coat made of night-sky

A squatcho from a beret, seemingly made of lead inside the fabric casing.

Pliers plated with sterling silver, to remove recalcitrant needles

#charms #the crazed sewing kit iv

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the-fiction-witch · 14 days ago

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Study

Media - Nanny Mcphee Character - Simon Brown (Age Up) Couple - Simon X Reader Reader - Y/n (Wife) Rating - 12 Word Count - 1073 Requested- You have to do more Simon Brown x reader stuff🙏 Love your stories, keep it up! <3

The house sat perfectly peaceful, the sound of the rain muffling the world beyond the stained glass windows. The gentle pottering and pattering of the raindrops falling onto the various surfaces, a gentle tickle of the windchime still playing its tune in this storm. Within the house the log burner crackled and popped as the damp would burn on the hot flames, the lights out as the power never worked in the rain and storms leaving the room lit only by the log burner's flames and the candles that littered the room. The only sound to break through it all was the clicking and clacking of typewriter keys being elegantly danced over, with the familiar sound of the spool being pushed back at the end of each line.

Simon Brown sat at the desk, typewriter under his hands. He worked diligently and speedily, copying down from the previous draft that sat on the desk beside him the typer writer key marks littered with pencil notes to implement. Mostly misspellings, punctuation and formatting elements. His small wooden bin beside his desk overflowing with crumpled pages.

He wore brown trousers, and a light cream button down his sleeves rolled to his elbows so as to not risk catching the cuffs in the typewriter's often vicious keys, a blue waistcoat embroidered softly with birds only noticeable in the lights shimmer. All his clothes fit him comfortably with signs of alteration in the seams showing their wear. His blonde locks were messy as he often ran his hand through them absentmindedly when he was thinking, his tongue between his teeth as he worked, with his favoured pencil behind his ear.

A gentle creaking grows louder in the halls of the house and soon enough the study door opens to reveal Simon’s wife, Y/n Brown.

She dressed in her sky blue and cream dress with a square neckline and cap sleeves, a lobster tail crinoline, and a large blue bow at the small of her back, the dress hemmed just perfectly so she could still see her little house slippers when she walked. Her hair pinned up in an intricate milkmaid braid, and her baby bump notably poking itself out as she swells larger. She carries with her a small tray with a teacup, saucer, sugar, milk, a plate of three small muffins and a teapot with a knitted cosy on top.

When he hears her come in he flips his draft page over hiding the contents and immediately stops typing resting his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together and he set his chin on his hands.

“I’m not disturbing am I?” She asked softly,

“No. No. you’re alright.” he answered,

“I come baring tea,” She cooed as she set the tray down on his desk far from any of his important papers, and she poured him the first cup, “It’s elderflower and rose today,”

“No more Lemon and tea tree?”

“Unfortunately not, you have the last for bed.”

“Fu-” He began but his eyes met her as she gave him a very threatening look, “Fudge.” He corrected,

“Umm,” she hummed,

“I said fudge! Nothing wrong with some delicious fudge,” he said taking his tea and having a small sip,

“Yes, but it’s what you were going to say,” she warned,

“No idea’ what you're talking about, I was going to say fudge.”

“Course you were Simon,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tied around his office, “That damn clock has stopped again.” She sighed tapping the old mantle clock hoping it would begin to tick again,

“It has?”

“Hadn’t you noticed it hasn’t moved in three hours?”

“... I’ll be honest, I kinda just thought I was being really productive today.” He sighed, “I was wondering why you were bringing me tea so early,”

“You need a new one, don’t need to give you an excuse to be locked in here all day any more than you already have.”

“I know, It’s just sentimental Y/n,” He sighed, “I’ll pop it somewhere else and head to the market next Sunday to see if we can find one,”

She nodded and went to his small bin gathering any fallen papers, “May I?”

“You may,” He nodded re-reading his writing,

“Are you sure?” She asked picking it up,

“I’m very sure,” he nodded,

“Final answer,” she warned as she opened the log burner door,

“You may throw it away Y/n I promise.”

“Alright then,” she nodded starting to toss the crumpled papers on the fire,

He sighed seeing his hours of work be burnt but he knew it was all scrap anyway,

She returned the empty bin to beside his desk and had a peak over his shoulder to read what he’d written but he put a hand over her eyes, “Hey!”

“It’s not done.” He glared, “Keep those adorable little eyes off Mrs.”

“Just a little snippet?”

“Nope.” He chuckled, “Go on, scamper.”

“Fine,” she pouted,

“Ohh before you go have you seen my pencil anywhere?” He asked,

She chuckled softly and pulled it from behind his ear as always,

“Ah! Thank you Y/n,” he smiled, he took the pencil and then her hand giving her knuckles a tender kiss just beside her wedding ring, he then took her bump in his hands softly stroking her dress as he cradled her belly giving the baby within a big kiss, “Hello little boy, you cosy in mummy’s belly? Yeah? You stay nice and warm in there then till your all ready to come for cuddles,” he cooed,

“He likes it when you talk to him,”

“He does?”

“Of course, he always stops wiggling when you talk to him,”

“Doesn’t that mean he doesn’t like me?”

“No, he’s happy, he’s listening and enjoying daddies cuddles,”

“Awww my sweet little boy,” he cooed kissing her bump one more time, “I’ll see you later for dinner?”

“Of course, I’ll come and get you,” She smiled,

“Can I get a kiss from my lovely wife before she goes?”

“You may,” she nodded leaning down to give his lips a small peck,

“Love you,” he cooed rubbing his nose on hers,

“Love you too Simon,” she smiled before she left his study going to do various other chores around the house,

Simon tried to hide the blush that still rose to his cheeks even after so long being married to her, he still got all blushy and giddy when she kissed him or told him she loved him. He took another sip of tea before turning his page back over and continuing on with his work, now with a wide and cheery smile.

#tbs imagine #tbs imagines #tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #simonbrown #simon #sim #simon brown

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hollowwhisperings · 1 year ago

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Kairi the Character: The Future of a Grounded Star

The creators of the KH series have emphasized that, going forward, the series will focus on Sora and Riku. They also repeated that KH3 was the story of "childhood friends who drift apart as they grow up" & that change can be sad but is necessary, that people can always re-conect in new ways.

Essentially, the KH team marks KH3 as the "end" of Kairi's Story with Sora & Riku: the end of an age of Childhood Promises, of resisting "Change"... and of growing up "together".

Going forth, the "Destiny Trio" hyped up in marketing & the fandom consciousness is firmly "retired": KH3 ends with Riku's connection to Sora is stronger than ever, Sora on the cusp of a Realization pertaining to Riku being Sora's "Light"... and, as of Melody of Memory, Kairi knows that "following" her two childhood friends is not conducive to helping them nor to herself.

This post will examine the many ways Kairi has "functioned" within the greater narrative of Kingdom Hearts & its themes. It dips into Kairi's Resistance to Change being her greatest inhibitor in taking an active role within the series, how and why her first attempts were met with failure (spoiler: copying your friend's homework can only ever get you so far), why Kairi's "Staying Behind" (Home) is where her own story begins & the importance of Kairi's Distancing herself from the main story of Kingdom Hearts. Kairi's Story has never been the one shared by Sora & Riku: Kairi's Story is found in the wide cast of characters, "crossed-over" and original, and interwoven with the setting's many Mysteries. Kairi, independently of either of KH's protagonists, but together with Others "Left Behind" is a crucial lynchpin to unravelling so many spools of thread: threads held separately by many hands... each confused, in their isolation. Kairi can play a Key Part in "sorting" these threads, in enabling Different Characters to Meet (& so see their Common Threads), and in doing so "consolidate" them all within a "Wider Picture". Mostly, however, I'll be contextualizing Kairi in Themes of "Home" and as "Light".

Kairi the "Starcrossed"

Kairi has spent the KH series thus far in a pattern of "staying behind" and "chasing after her friends". While the former is not actually a bad thing (indeed, it was a Key Element in games past & likely in future too), the latter has lead to immense "disappointment".

Disappointment in fans of Kairi, who believe Kairi is suffering from "Chickification" (demoting a female character to love interest & subsequently removing every aspect of her character to better enable "romance" that better resembles a female acting as an Emotional Support Human). Disappointment from fans of the mysteries in KH's worldbuilding & lore, who find Kairi an inherently Mysterious Character connected to most every Subplot on either side of "Reality".

Disappointment from Kairi herself, who initially mimicked her friend in footstels both literal & figurative only to find that what "strengthens" Sora (or Riku) does not strengthen her. Kairi's desperate efforts to cling to childhood has greatly hindered her personal growth, as most harshly evidenced by her almost-death in KH3 & Sora's disappeatance thereafter. In Melody of Memory, Kairi takes her self-growth more seriously: she wants to reunite with Sora, to renew the closeness they had so recently (for her) yet so seemingly long ago (for us, for Sora himself). By the end of Melody, Kairi "fails" again: this failure was not for naught. Kairi's Failure "demoted" her from the Assumed Role she has long held (in & out-of-universe) of "Designated Love Interest [to Sora]" & Sora's Hypothetical "Prince[ss] Charming".

At the end of Melody, Kairi makes her first true act of personal agency in the series: she requests to train under Master Aqua, a woman who rescued her once in childhood (though Kairi may not remember) & who acted as the "Lynchpin" to the safe returns of the "Wayfinder Trio".

With Master Aqua as Kairi's new mentor, let us return to the subject of "Home" & how "staying behind" (as Kairi consistently chooses to do) is not actually a bad thing.

Kairi's "Homes"

"Home" can be different things to different people. To Sora, homes can be made whenever he connects with new places & friends. Sora also considers the Destiny Islands, especially the "play island" where he spent so many years growing up with Riku & Kairi, to be a "home". To Riku, "home" is wherever Sora is. To Kairi? Home is a much more complicated creature to an amnesiac girl who became a Literal Shooting Star.

The first "home" (that we know of) Kairi had is one she claims to no longer remember: Radiant Garden. This is where Kairi lived prior to the Destiny Islands, the place where the errant Master Aqua met a 4th Princess of Heart and bestowed upon her a [protective blessing/charm] (likely enabling Kairi's safely ending up at the Destiny Islands rather than Traverse Town or even Quadratum). Radiant Garden is also where we met Kairi's Mysteriously Well-Informed "Grandmother", someone whose Stories Kairi remembers even when she (claims) to be otherwise amnesiac of her life prior to "The Meteor Shower".

Other characters from Radiant Garden include Cid, Squall Leonhart, Aerith, Yuffie & Merlin (whom Kairi first met in KH1, in Traverse Town, and who seem Mutually Oblivious as to their Shared Heritage). It was also the home of characters Foreshadowed to be Involved with the "Bloodlines" plotlines of Phase 2 of KH: Ansem, Ienzo (a character whose origins are possibly More Mysterious than Kairi's), Apprentice Xehanort ("Terra-Nort"), "Braig" (the latest Host of Master Luxu), Isa & Axel (friends of the Mysterious "Subject X".

In studying with Master Aqua, Kairi will take her first step in acknowledging her Past & seeking to recover it: that step was made easier, perhaps, by Kairi's befriending fellow keyblade wielder Axel. Axel, like Kairi, is originally from Radiant Garden but has found a "new" Home. Axel's Home is with Isa, Roxas & Xion in Twilight Town: Kairi's Home has long embraced the Destiny Islands as her Home.

Kairi's continued, sometimes stubborn attachment to the Destiny Islands makes Sense: whether she Remembered it or not, the memories immediately prior to her "debut" as a Literal Shooting Star would have been of her being the latest Test Subject of Xehanort. If her memories of Xehanort were not stolen safely away by her young age, Repression or the traumas of Crashlanding into an ocean (possibly featuring a bit of Drowning? between Aqua's Magic & Kairi's Own, hopefully this was one trauma young Kairi was Spared from)... Kairi has Good Reason to disassociate with Radiant Garden & its labs. That Kairi willingly submitted herself to be studied in sleep by Ansem & his reformed Apprentices for a year? That in itself was an act of Remarkable Bravery and True Desperation. "Survivor's Guilt" is one of many potential "Darknesses" that Kairi, a Princess of Light, may need to Accept into herself to "grow" beyond that role & into young adulthood (as all other Original Princesses of Heart did). It is a subject Familiar to Kairi's Peers, the Princesses & those "left behind".

Yet Kairi is not someone "left behind" by the narrative: Kairi is someone who Chooses to Stay Home. This "passive" choice of Kairi's, to be a person to Return To and a Representation of "Home" has been the most plot-relevant aspect of her character since KH1 & continued to be her Key Narrative Function... right until "the power of childhood promises" was brutally, thoroughly Proven Insufficent. Childhood Promises were Kairi's "theme": with each timeskip, each near-death experience, Kairi's friends had Grown Up & Apart from her. "Promises" could not be as carelessly, made as meaningfully fulfilled in the Stakes of young adulthood & War: KH3 forces Sora, Kairi & players to recognise that "promises are for children"¹.

That is not to say that Kairi's Choices to "Stay Home" are bad: Kairi is not weaker for seeking the security of a fixed "home". Kairi has lost every Home she has ever had. That she clung to the "idea" of the Destiny Islands, once the world was restored, is consistent with how Kairi has been shaped by her own Traumas (well before & then in opposition to Sora and Riku, who found "Home" in each other more than once).

Kairi & "Safe Return"

Recall now the Wayfinding Charm Kairi made for herself & her friends as her "contribution" to their Raft Project: thalassa shells set in a starfruit's shape, a Sailor's Promise of "finding their way home". Unlike Riku "the Reverse-Little Mermaid" or Sora "the Adventurer", Kairi only worked on the Raft so her friends wouldn't leave her behind. Kairi was genuinely worried of being lost at sea, something she was miraculously spared from when she crashed into the waters of Destiny Islands.

In KH2, Kairi sends a "message in a bottle": while how sizable its role really was in providing a "Door to Light" for the stranded Sora & Riku is ~vague~ due to its "Timing" (right after a Heart-to-Heart between two uniquely "bright" Keyblade wielders), Kairi's "wish" in bottle-form certainly helped in said Door's directly opening to the Destiny Islands specifically.

Kairi & "Geography"

Then there is KH3's "Tunnel of Light" sequence. While players may Expect that the Abrupt Deus Ex Machina as "GPS Princess Kairi Saves The Day Offscreen, Again"... the sequence is Deliberately Misleading.

Sora's initial recognition of his "Light" as Riku's Light is correct: Riku, now and always, is the "Light" Sora knows best. Riku is also Found At The Tunnel's End: Kairi, however, was with Sora the whole time. Kairi was Geographically Incapable of being Sora's "Light" because she was right next to him, following Sora as he was lead by Riku's Light.

The entire "Light Tunnel" scene in KH3 is referential to the Infamous Meteor Shower event recalled by Sora & Riku in CoM.

Sora and Riku both recall watching a Meteor Shower with Someone Very Important to Their Heart(s). During this Meteor Shower, the person Naminé replaces feared that a Meteor (a Shooting Star) would strike the Destiny Islands: Sora or Riku then promised to [always protect] the Person Naminé Replaces in this Shared Memory. It is Naminé's placing herself within This Memory that prompts the Drastic Increase in [Devotion] from both Sora AND Riku['s Replica]. Due to Naminé's previously inserting herself into either boy's memories in Kairi's place, players "expected" that the True Memory & the Promises of Protection must have "also" been With Kairi.

...except that Kairi could not have exchanged anything with anyone during That Meteor Shower: Kairi was the Meteor Shower, one of its meteors & its most Significant Shooting Star. The promises that both boys recall making were made to each other: they exchanged tokens by the light of a Shooting Star.

Ascertaining Kairi's "Relative Geography" is the Vital Clue to many of her Weirder Moments throughout the series: in Sora & Riku's Shared Memory of a Meteor Shower, Kairi was a Meteor; in the Tunnel of Light sequence, Kairi was inside the Tunnel & not at its End; when Sora & Riku find themselves stranded in Another Side of Reality, as they once were in the depths of the Realm of Darkness, Kairi will be their Connection Home.

Kairi the "Lighthouse Keeper"

Kairi, through imagery & Choices, has made herself into a "Guiding Star". She is no longer a "starcrossed meteor" of Sora's: Kairi is the Fixed Point of "Home", her Home.

Kairi has become not a Lighthouse but its Keeper: she "tends the hearth" that is her own Heart, one that shines its light from the Destiny Islands where she "stays behind". As a Princess of Light, Kairi can act as the "Keeper" of her own Light: she can determine where it shines brightest ("home" in the Destiny Islands), who it guides (those Lost in Darkness, friends)... amongst other things.

This role of "Hearthkeeper" or "Lighthouse" will not give Kairi any dramatic rise in martial prowess, magical or otherwise. Kairi is Not Sora & she's Not Riku either: their strengths are theirs and Kairi has yet to even consider that her own strengths could be entirely different (& helpful for entirely separate situations). Narratively, making Kairi a "magical powerhouse" is unproductive: other characters are Experienced Battle Mages, their skills & prowess Well Established as Terrifying Extremely Competent.

Rather tham becoming Yet Another War Mage, I would speculate that Kairi's role is something more "unique" to her person & something sorely needed on This Side of Reality: an "Illuminator" not only of pressing dangers and safer shores but of the setting's Mysteries, old and "new". Kairi is already capable of acting in this role: she just hasn't had the opportunity to realise it yet.

Kairi the "Illuminator"

As a Princess of Light, Kairi connects any & all Disney princess past or future: the Princesses are "Torchbearers", their Hearts host to the still-burning remnants of the Ancient X-Blade's Light. These seven individuals are essential to the stability of the Realm of Light, in the absence of Kingdom Hearts. Their endangerment in KH1 was apocalyptic for all Known Worlds: finding the successors of Kairi's Peers in KH3 was a subplot "dropped" upon the miraculous recovering of Master Aqua & her lost friends thereafter. By "staying behind", Kairi's story as a Princess is possible to explore without the risk of her being assumed to be Sora's Princess (or, heavens forbid, Riku's).

As her Grandmother's [lorekeeper] & as a keyblade wielder herself, Kairi is connected to the mythology of the Keyblade Wars of the Ancient Past: the Master of Masters, the Foretellers & how history has seemed Doomed to Repeat. Kairi's placement as "student of Aqua" puts her (& her grandmother's stories) in proximity to Ventus, an amnesiac whose history lies hidden within such stories. That Ven too is "pure of heart" (albeit artificially) is another means of consolidating story threads: how similar is Ven, post-Xehanort, to Kairi the Princess of Heart? How are their Hearts different from each other's & why was Riku's ability to meld his Darkness to his Light so seemingly unprecedented? Is "lack of darkness" holding Kairi back, as a keyblade wielder? Or will Kairi (& Ven) be used by the likes of the Foretellers as "precedent" for all to follow?

As a Wayward Daughter of Radiant Garden, any explorations into Kairi's Life prior to her stint as a Shooting Star opens the world's history to Other Interested Parties: Kairi's hypothetical birth family, for one, and the Concerned Friends of "Subject X". It also requires an Addressing of Xehanort's Time apprenticed to Ansem the Wise... and Questions on how, exactly, he & Ansem "acquired" their Test Subjects in the first place. The technology used to send Kairi from Radiant Garden bears Remarkable Resemblance (in function, if not "form") to that used by the Dandelions. Was there, perhaps, some "reverse-engineering" in play? From Whomst couldst Xehanort Possibly Findeth Such An Arc, one of So Very Few?

Oh, Hi There, Ventus the Secret Dandelion: have you seen the Other, Long-term Human Test Subject? No, not Kairi. One escaped from [our setting]'s Other Resident [Evil] Scientist? Ansem the Wise?

...I May or May Not Harbour Deep Mistrust & Plentiful Suspicions regarding the man formerly known as "DiZ" (for example: did Master Yen Sid ever hear about Ansem's misappropriating his name, just as Xehanort did with Ansem's own?).

That aside, let us continue exploring how Kairi's "staying behind" is much more interesting than putting her back into Sora's Coming Of Age Story for No Actual Narrative Purpose (except to continue in her past role of "Being Conveniently Female"?).

Kairi the "Supporting Character"

Kairi's "Potential" has been Unexplored for nearly the entire series: her resistance to Change, to "leaving Home" & her Seeking Security in Familiar Things has kept Kairi from involving herself in anything "unrelated" to Sora & Riku. Being the series' protagonists, Sora & Riku have been Out Of The Loop on the wider mysteries of their setting: mysteries that Kairi (willingly or otherwise) is intrinsically connected to.

By again Choosing to "Stay", Kairi is able to act as the Fixed Point of Reality's "worldbuilding": Kairi is the connecting character for keyblade wielders to Disney Princesses, the point of reference to clarify "past" from "present" (this is more speculative, contingent to Kairi or Any of the Seven Lights existing as "fixed points" in Reality), and the Meeting Ground of characters (& plot points) old & "new".

Kairi's adjacency to Every Worldbuilding Subplot on This Side of "Reality" makes her an extremely useful Supporting Character. By departing from the "main" story of KH (that of Sora & Riku's "Comimg Of Age"), Kairi is free to support characters in their "shared" stories. Many of these "shared stories" all end up featuring Kairi, as a reference point or otherwise "Key" figure.

As a Supporting Character to Literally Anyone Other than Sora or Riku, Kairi is in great demand (see Speculations Above).

To her Childhood Friends, as they enter Their Arc on Sora's Darkness & the Continued Explorations of the many ways Hearts "Combine"?

The best way that Kairi can help her friends is by doing what she always has (now with other characters supporting her): being a "Fixed Point" in their Reality.

Kairi is no longer Sora's "Starcrossed" Meteor: her role, in his story & Riku's, is to now be that Beacon that Guides Travelers in Dark Seas, the "Lighthouse Keeper" keeping ships mindful of the shoreline & directing sailors to Safe Harbour. When Sora & Riku, weary from whatever Quadratum demands of them, would seek passage through death & dream to Another Side of Reality? Kairi will be There for them, a friend whose life has continued in their absence, ready to welcome them "home".

Conclusion

Kairi was a Reluctant Protagonist and an Absent Love Interest: that was Intentional, as evidenced by the Thematic (& Literal) "Geography" of Key Points in Sora & Riku's Coming of Age story being impossible for Kairi to have actually been "there" to fulfil such roles. Kairi's biggest strength, thus far, was her Faith & Innocent Love enabling her Friends to Find Their Way Home.

Kairi is strong: Sora tells her as much, in the Actual Text of the Tunnel Sequence. Kairi has, however, been "stagnant" in her strength. She can only truly become "stronger" when she needs not constantly compare herself to Riku or Sora (whose strengths are their own, not Kairi's: she has ever been mimicking their footsteps, never able to fill their shoes nor willing to consider getting different shoes for herself to wear instead).

As Kairi grows up & apart from "Childhood", Kairi can make new friends & find new "purpose". Rather than finding herself a "poor subsitute" for Riku or Sora, Kairi can seek the training they never had an opportunity to have & do so in ways neither boy may have "preferred" but Kairi would. Limiting herself to "one-of-three" (a Destiny "Trio") has never made Kairi Stronger, not in the way it has for Other Trios in the series: the "Destiny Trio" was never of the same nature as subsequent trios, the recurring & contrastingly "equilateral" dynamics being KH's means of indicating that, often in life, the friend groups you start out with aren't meant to last. People change and so does the ways they can or would want to relate to each other: is KH to is the story's method of showing the different friendships we can or "used to" have, some friendships remaining unchanged for life & others changing along with its members. to truly grow up, Kairi had to let go the "forever friends" of her childhood. They have been growing up: now Kairi will too.

Footnotes

¹An existing exploration of KH3's distinctions between "childhood promises" & "Oaths" can be found here, on Youtube. It includes a line-by-line analysis of KH's "thesis" on this Theme, Utada Hikaru's "Chikai". My only addition to said video essay is on how its structure acts as a Callback to KH3's immediately preceding title, Dream Drop Distance.

"Chikai" exists distinctly & complementary to the song that shares its melody, "Don't Think Twice". The songs, like the entire premise of Dream Drop, are two perspectives of a shared experience: this is Foreshadowing, specifically pertaining to the concepts of Mirrored Realities & the different ways Hearts can be Combined.

That last theme is especially pertinent given the Various Ways that artificially "combining hearts" has already been used to form or summon the eponymous Kingdom Hearts. This will be the Bloodlines Arc, afterall: "blood" will be Explored, in ways both Literal (ancestry, familial inheritance, generational keyblade violence) & Figurative (keyblades as a concept, Darkness as the "bleeding" of a Heart, the "oldblood" versus the "new"). That any & all depictions of blood will be censored into Water or as "Darkness" is par for the course.

²Kairi, Sora & Riku were never "a family" [trauma-bonded] to each other in the ways of the "Wayfinder" or "Seasalt" Trios. Kairi & Sora are only one (1) year younger than Riku: that means a lot, as a kid, but matters less & less the older you become. Axel's success in his role as "life coach" & "cool older brother" to the [newborn] teens Roxas & Xion highlights the difference that Age & aging has in one's friendship dynamics: Axel was the age of his friends when he "joined" Organization XIII and can thusly prepare them for what they will experience. Upon Isa's "resurrection", Axel keeps his childhood best friend with him: the changes this would prompt in the "Seasalt Trio" have inspired many an "Axel the No Longer Single Dad" joke, if not with that specific wording.

My Elaboration on Relative Age in the Dynamics of KH's Iconic Trios got, uh, Longer Than intended: its elaborated form has been Squirrel'd Away for "Later, Maybe".

#kh meta #kh kairi #kairi meta #kairi the character #kh4 speculation #kairi is a light but she is not THE light #varyingly helpful puns regarding the worldbuilding of the kh series #i tried to be tactful about how kairi is shipped but one does not simply ignore a giant rainbow sword set to a waltz #riku is the light #kairi is a star #princesses of heart #the new seven lights #radiant garden #kairi the worldbuilder #necklace theory #kairi's life as a retired red herring #kh theories

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