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peachiejeongin · 6 months ago

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Christmas with Stray Kids! | OT8

Day 12 of the 12 Days of Staymas!

Synopsis: Scenarios on spending Christmas with Stray Kids!

Pairing: ot8!SKZ x reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: None!

Notice: On the twelfth day of Staymas, PeachieJeongin got sad because this is the end of the Christmas fictions :( Nevertheless, my loves, I hope you all have enjoyed this "series" as much as I have! This may or may not be an annual writing, so stay tuned for next year ;) Without further ado, enjoy the headcannons and have a holly, jolly Christmas! XOXO, PeachieJeongin :)

Bang Chan:

・❥ Chan is the type to wake up early on Christmas morning, eager to make the day special!

・❥ You would wake up to the faint scent of coffee or hot chocolate he has already prepared, along with a cozy Christmas breakfast spread of pancakes, bacon, and perhaps a few festive treats.

・❥ Before the two of you open presents, Chan would insist on staying in pajamas all morning; preferably, he would want to wear matching pajamas in a Christmas-esque pattern.

・❥ Chan is a thoughtful gift-giver. He would choose presents that reflect how much he listens to you and how well he knows you. Expect things that feel incredibly personal, like a handmade scrapbook filled with his favorite memories of your relationship or a custom necklace engraved with something meaningful.

・❥ He would also give you something practical that makes your life easier, such as a cozy heated blanket or a technological gadget you have been eyeing.

・❥ To top it off, there would be a fun or silly gift to make you laugh, like a plushie of your favorite animal, a gag gift referencing an inside joke, or an over-the-top designed sweater.

・❥ After opening gifts, he would suggest cozying up on the couch for a little while, basking in the "Christmas energy," as he claims. Truly, it is just a rooze to get you to cuddle with him before it is time for Christmas dinner.

・❥ For Christmas dinner itself, he would go for something simple, yet meaningful. He would opt for a homemade dinner where you both cook together. You would laugh and taste test as you go, sneaking kisses between stirring pots and setting the table.

・❥ If you are celebrating with the rest of Stray Kids, Chan would take on the role of the mediator, as he always does. He would make sure everyone is happy, fed, and enjoying the day!

・❥ Overall, Chan on Christmas is warm, thoughtful, and full of love. He always makes sure the day is as magical for you as it is for him.

Lee Know:

・❥ Lee Know is not the type to wake up super early, but once he is up, he is all in for Christmas!

・❥ You would likely wake up to him snuggling closer, and you would make a cheeky comment like, "I think Santa came, Minnie." He would just snuggle closer to you, mumbling something like, "Five more minutes."

・❥ When he does eventually get up, he would play it cool, but you would catch him stealing glances at the Christmas presents, anxious to open all of his gifts.

・❥ Expect a breakfast that is more indulgent than normal; he would whip up something simple yet delicious, like French toast or waffles, with extra whipped cream or powdered sugar. He would claim he made it so sweet so you could feel the hyperactivity of the holiday.

・❥ Lee Know's gifts are carefully chosen; he would get you something you have mentioned in passing, like a piece of clothing, a skincare set, or a hobby related item, which shows you that he is always paying attention even if you believe he is not.

・❥ He would also get you something small but incredibly personal, like a framed photo of the two of you or a handwritten letter.

・❥ If you are a pet lover, his cat dad instincts would kick in. His gift may include something adorable for your pet, such as a sweater or chew toy. If you do not have a pet, he would get you a plushie that looks suspiciously like one of his cats.

・❥ If you gave him a heartfelt gift, he would act nonchalant at first, but later, you would catch him looking at the gift longingly and smiling when he thinks you are not looking.

・❥ In true Lee Know fashion, this boy would tease you all day long, especially about how excited you are for Christmas. He would make comments about you being like a child, but he would secretly light up whenever he saw you enthusiastic about the day.

・❥ Christmas dinner is important to Lee Know. If it is a family or group gathering, he would be a little reserved but still attentive, making sure you are comfortable and sneaking you brief smiles across the table.

・❥ If it is just the two of you, he would either cook a traditional meal by himself or suggest ordering something from a nice restaurant. He just wants to avoid having to clean up a huge mess in the kitchen at the end of the night.

・❥ Lee Know on Christmas is equal parts playful and tender, balancing his tease with moments that remind you of his gentle care.

Changbin:

・❥ Changbin would sleep in a little later than usual, only because he stayed up late on Christmas Eve finishing up last-minute wrapping.

・❥ He would wake up excited, bouncing out of bed and immediately shaking you awake screaming, "It's Christmas!" before dragging you to the living room like a little kid.

・❥ Presents first, breakfast second. He would watch intently as you opened your presents, grinning from ear to ear at your jolly reactions.

・❥ Changbin's gifts reflect his personality: thoughtful but funny. He would most likely get you something entirely surprising, like a pair of concert tickets or a surprise weekend getaway to a city you have been wanting to travel to.

・❥ If you are into fitness, he may gift you some cool workout gear so you can train together.

・❥ He would also spoil you with cozy items, like oversized hoodies or fluffy blankets, for whenever you feel like having a lazy day.

・❥ No matter the gift you got him, he would be genuinely touched. His reactions may be a bit over-the-top depending on the present, but if they come from you, he would love them nevertheless.

・❥ Changbin would probably suggest building a gingerbread house together, which would turn into a chaotic mess of icing fights and him eating half of the candy before it can even reach the house (see Frosting Feuds for reference ;) )

・❥ If you are having Christmas dinner with family or friends, he would be the life of the party, cracking jokes and making everyone laugh while including you in all of the fun.

・❥ If it is just the two of you, he would suggest ordering out because the day has worn him out, even though all he has done is open gifts, and he does not feel like cooking.

・❥ While waiting for the food, Changbin would delve into discussion about his favorite childhood Christmas memories, bringing a soft and nostalgic vibe to the evening.

・❥ After dinner, Changbin would insist on a movie marathon. He would pick classics, such as 'Elf' or 'Home Alone.'

・❥ He would absolutely fall asleep in your arms during the movies, mumbling to himself about how this was the best Christmas ever.

Hyunjin:

・❥ Hyunjin would wake up slowly, a way to savor the magic of Christmas morning. He would pull you close, mumbling something about how sweet it is to spend the holidays together.

・❥ He would suggest that the two of you sleep for just a little longer; after all, you have the whole day, so why rush it?

・❥ Once awake, he would take his time preparing a cozy breakfast for both of you; it would most likely be something artistic, like perfectly plated fruit or pancakes/waffles decorated with powdered sugar that he would call "snow."

・❥ He is not the type to rush into opening gifts. He would want to sit by the fireplace at first, taking in the morning's moment before unwrapping presents.

・❥ Hyunjin's gifts would be deeply sentimental and emotional. He would probably create something, such as a painting inspired by a favorite memory together or a hand-drawn card with a heartfelt letter inside.

・❥ His gifts would also be on the luxurious side. He would spoil you with a piece of jewelry or an elegant bag that he picked out specifically to suit your style.

・❥ He would absolutely want to do something creative, like designing Christmas cards for family members and friends or painting a festive scene together.

・❥ If you are not as artistic, he would guide you, holding your hand as you attempt to paint, and laughing softly when it turns out a little messier than intended.

・❥ Hyunjin would enjoy planning a more intimate dinner for just you two, complete with soft lighting, a festive playlist, and an attempt to cook something fancy.

・❥ If you are celebrating with others, he would focus intently on you, making sure you feel included in the festivities.

・❥ To end the night, Hyunjin would also insist on a cozy photoshoot, making sure the lighting is solemn yet soft before taking a mix of sweet and silly photos to comemorate the day.

・❥ As you doze off beside him, he would sketch a scene of the Christmas tree quietly, inspired by the perfection of the day. He would give you the work in the morning when he was done, claiming it to be a late present.

・❥ Christmas with Hyunjin would be full of beauty, warmth, and sentimentality, making you feel as if you are living in a fairy tale.

Han:

・❥ Han would wake up early, practically vibrating with excitement. He would hesitate to wake you up, though, instead amusing himself by scrolling through his phone or singing carols under his breath.

・❥ Eventually, his impatience would win, and he would gently poke your cheek, whispering, "It's Christmas!" until you groggily join him on the enthusiasm.

・❥ He would race to the Christmas tree like a little kid, eagerly pulling you along, and insist on opening presents right away, barely able to contain his curiosity about what you got him.

・❥ You would literally have to remind this boy that he has to eat breakfast first...

・❥ Speaking of, breakfast would be haphazard but fun, like snowman-shaped pancakes.

・❥ His reactions would be over the top, with loud gasps, dramatic "thank yous," and a goofy grin plastered on his face.

・❥ Han's gifts would be quirky but reflective. He would most likely compose a song, comprised of lyrics about your relationship and including funny memories in some of the backup vocals.

・❥ He would also throw in something silly, like a novelty mug with a cheesy joke. It would come with a heartfelt explanation like, "This reminds me of when you..."

・❥ Han would surprise you throughout the day with little "pranks" throughout the day, like putting a large, ridiculous bow on his head and declaring himself your "best Christmas present."

・❥ If you are celebrating with friends or family, Han would bring the energy, making jokes and overall being Han! He would also brag about your cooking skills, even if you were not the one who made the meal.

・❥ If it is just the two of you, he would suggest ordering out because, "It's Christmas! We shouldn't have to cook!" You would end up feasting on your favorite comfort foods while sitting on the couch in your pajamas.

・❥ Han would absolutely initiate a mini concert in the living room, pulling out a guitar, or using anything he could find as a microphone, and performing hilarious dramatic reenactments of Christmas classics.

・❥ Han's Christmas would be full of energy but just as sentimental.

Felix:

・❥ Felix would wake up early, but would not rush you. Instead, he would take a moment to admire how peaceful you look while sleeping, grateful that he gets to awaken next to you on Christmas.

・❥ When you finally stir, he would great you with a soft, "Merry Christmas, my love," and a warm hug, burying his face in your neck for a few extra seconds of coziness.

・❥ You would wake up to the smell of freshly baked breakfast treats, such as cinnamon rolls, since Felix would have started his day in the kitchen to make a perfect, festive breakfast.

・❥ Before opening presents, he would insist on savoring breakfast together by the tree, wrapping you both up in a large, fluffy blanket while you eat and sip hot chocolate.

・❥ Felix's gifts would be nothing short of heartfelt. He may knit you a scarf or bake you a tin of cookies decorated with your favorite colors or movie characters.

・❥ He would also spoil you with something expensive, yet practical, like a high-quality sweater or a charm-bracelet.

・❥ As a playful touch, he would add in something nostalgic, such as a plushie or game you loved as a child, just to see your face light up with joy.

・❥ Felix would be incredibly thoughtful if you are celebrating Christmas in a group, making sure everyone feels comfortable and full from the food.

・❥ If it is just you two, he would go all out in the kitchen, preparing a fancy, yet comforting meal. He would plate it like a chef on a cooking show, grinning proudly as he sets the table in front of you.

・❥ At some point, Felix would set up his gaming devices for a "cozy gaming session." He would pretend to go easy only to get hilariously competitive halfway through a round of Mario Kart.

・❥ He would absolutely sneak up behind you at random moments to softly kiss you, cheekily commenting how he "though he saw mistletoe."

・❥ Before bed, Felix would get sentimental, holding your hands in his and thanking you for making the holiday so special. He may even tear up slightly as he tells you how much he cherishes you.

Seungmin:

・❥ Seungmin would wake up at a reasonable hour, greeting you with a sleepy but soft, "Merry Christmas," and immediately teasing you for being more excited than him.

・❥ He would prefer to start the day with breakfast before presents, even if it is something simple such as toast and coffee. He would probably prepare it himself and plate it carefully.

・❥ Seungmin would be methodical with presents, opening one at a time and paying close attention to your reactions as you open his gifts.

・❥ His gifts would be endearing mixed with applicable. He would get you something you have been needing or casually mentioned wanting months ago, showing how he remembers the smallest of details about you.

・❥ He would have a singular gift referencing an inside joke just to make you chuckle, as well.

・❥ He would have a subtle, proud smile if you love what he got you, but he would still find a way to cheekily make fun, saying "Of course you like it. I have taste."

・❥ If you suggest singing Christmas songs together, he would roll his eyes but eventually cave. His voice would be so beautiful and warm that you would stop singing just to listen, making him blush as he asks why you are staring at him.

・❥ Seungmin would keep dinner simple but cozy. If it is just the two of you dining, he would prefer a homemade meal, perhaps working together to cook. He would also sneak tastes of whatever you are making and pretend to judge your technique.

・❥ If you are with friends or family, he would be polite and a little reserved, but would sneak glances your way, smiling softly whenever your eyes meet.

・❥ He would insist on a proper dessert as well, such as pie, cake, or cookies, teasing you if you felt too full to eat sweets.

・❥ Seungmin would want to spend the evening quietly. He would suggest reading a book together, playing a board game, or watching a holiday movie.

・❥ Honestly, most of the day would be spent besides the Christmas tree or fireplace; Seungmin loves the soft glow of either reflecting in your eyes as you ramble about whatever that day.

・❥ Before bed, he would pull you into a warm hug, resting his chin on your head and whispering, "Thanks for making today so perfect. Just don't snore too loud tonight."

Jeongin:

・❥ Jeongin would wake up early, excited but attempting to act calm about Christmas morning. He would lean over to check if you are awake, and casually ask, "So are we doing presents or what?"

・❥ He would practically drag you out of bed and over to the tree, insisting you both wear Santa hats or something festive for the "full Christmas experience."

・❥ Honestly, this boy would forget all about breakfast.

・❥ His gifts are a mix of heartwarming and goofy. He would get you something meaningful, like a keepsake that ties into a favorite memory. For example, if one of your first dates was a concert, he would get you a laminated version of the concert ticket.

・❥ He would also include something trendy or fashionable, like a cozy sweater or a new pair of sneakers that he thinks would look amazing on you. Bonus points if it matches his own style so you can coordinate outfits.

・❥ There would be the playful side to his gifts as well, like a quirky gadget or something silly he knows will make you cackle.

・❥ At some point in the day, he would pull out his phone to record a short vlog of the day's highlights, grinning as he says, "I want to remember this Christmas forever."

・❥ He would absolutely sneak a surprise gift under the tree that he would not let you open until the very end of the day. It would be a small present, but just as meaningful, like a handwritten note or a necklace that symbolizes your time together.

・❥ He would also spend part of the day FaceTiming or texting his family to keep up with them on the holiday! He would even pass the phone your way so they can say hello to you.

・❥ If you are with friends or family, Jeongin would charm everyone with his bright and easygoing nature. He would probably sneak his way into grabbing extra helpings of certain dishes due to his kind, innocent personality.

・❥ If it was an independent sort of Christmas, Jeongin would want to make the meal fun and stress free. Whether it is ordering takeout or making a simple comfort food, he would prioritize time together over a fancy tradition.

・❥ Before bed, Jeongin would snuggle up to you by the fireplace, wrapping an arm around you and declaring that this was the best Christmas of his twenty-three years.

---

Taglist:@velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

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moronkombat · 2 years ago

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can i request syzoth x reader fluff hcs ? 🫣

You meet after the defeat of Shang Tsung

You're either from Outworld but well versed in human customs or are from Earthrealm

You work Liu Kang and company and you meet Syzoth through them

There is an immediately curiosity between the two of you and you both become fast friends

You teach Syzoth much about human customs and there are often hours spent with you reading him stories about Earthrealm.

He sits next you to always, your eyes glued to the book. He sits his an elbow resting on his knee and his chin cradled in his hand. He watches you read to him and he finds himself smiling

Soon the words you're saying go unheard as he can only focus on how peaceful you appear and how beautiful you sound

His smile is sappy and full of adoration when you see it, you ask him about it and he always says "I really like the way you read to me"

You're smiling then too and there's a moment of silence between the two of you where you're smiling to each other softly and eyes have that hint of longing

You continue to teach him about different human habits and he always seems a bit confused yet interested in them. He shares about his own customs and you're always happy to listen

I like to think that one day, after speaking about human practices he seems particularly keen on trying one. When you ask which he says he will show you

That's when he leans in and his lips lay over yours. Is it the most perfect of kisses? In technique no but to you it's the most perfect of kisses anyone could ever give

Once the kiss has ended he's blushing and his hand rubs the back of his neck. You happily, giddily wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him again and he's surprise but quick to melt into you

From that day onwards there is nothing separating you. He'll rest his head on your lap while you're kneeling in the grass and together you talk for hours

Leaves falling from the trees land on his nose and when he sneezes you laugh and suddenly he's enchanted by it. He wants to hear more of it and so he begins seeking to make you laugh as often as he can

He'll tickle you, chase you, move clumsily, whatever it takes to hear your music. Once the laughter has ended you always embrace him in a hug and share a tender kiss

When you walk together, he enjoys holding your hand. Being Zaterran, his hands are meant to rip and shred but when he's with you, he's okay with forgetting that. He's okay with using his hand for simple yet affectionate gestures

In fact, Syzoth is very into touching and feeling you. The warmth of your skin is so different to the cold flesh he wears and while he can be disguised to look humanoid, his body is still so cold and so he seeks out your warmth

He is especially fond when you trace of the ink of his tattooed skin. His eyes will close while the very tips of your fingers ghost over those patterns and he'll hum deep and low.

Often he doesn't notice when he's humming but you do. You notice each time and those vibrations your favorite lullaby. You'll lay your head and his chest and listen to them. His fingers will move through your hair or rub your back and together you lay in peace

To be with Syzoth is a very sweet and pure form of love and neither of you would change that

thankies for asking about fluffy syzoth i've been wanting to write him!!

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #mk reptile

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tulitulii · 7 months ago

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Word count: 3.5k

(I wrote this as soon as I got done with chapter one, ughhh this is so fun to do. I love writing ab my man!)

Sharing Tension

………………………………………………………………………………

Chapter 2.

For a moment, silence hung in the flower shop, thick with the weight of unspoken emotions. Nanami lingered near the counter, his hand still brushing the petals of the tulip, while you stood a few steps away, clutching the edge of the table as if it could steady you.

“Couldn’t stay away?” you repeated softly, your heart fluttering at his words.

He exhaled, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. “It’s peaceful here,” he said finally, avoiding your gaze. “The kind of quiet I don’t get in my day-to-day.”

Your chest tightened, both at his admission and at how carefully he seemed to choose his words. You could tell he wasn’t used to opening up like this, and it made his presence feel even more significant.

“Well,” you said after a beat, forcing a smile, “you’re always welcome here, Nanami. You know that.”

He looked at you then, his gaze steady and warm, and something unspoken passed between you. “Thank you,” he said simply.

That night set a pattern neither of you had planned.

The next day, around lunchtime, Nanami texted you—a short, practical message that felt so distinctly him it made you smile.

Nanami: Are you free for lunch?

You: Depends.. Is this a formal invitation? ;)

Nanami: I suppose it is.

By the time you’d locked up the shop and walked down to the small café near your street, he was already waiting at a table, sipping a coffee and looking out the window. His posture was relaxed but alert, his tie slightly loosened in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

The first “lunch date” was… normal, almost painfully so. You talked about work, shared small anecdotes, and laughed lightly at each other’s stories. But there was an ease between you that hadn’t been there before, a subtle shift in the way his eyes softened when he looked at you or the way your shoulders relaxed when he spoke.

From then on, lunch became a regular thing.

Over the next few weeks, your conversations grew deeper, your interactions more personal. Nanami, ever the composed and reserved man, began to open up in ways that surprised even him.

One afternoon, as you picked at your salad and he carefully ate his sandwich, you leaned forward with a curious smile. “So, Nanami, tell me something surprising about you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Surprising?”

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “Something I wouldn’t expect.”

He thought for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I bake.”

You blinked. “You bake?”

“Yes,” he said, deadpan. “Bread, mostly. It’s a precise process, which I appreciate. But I’ve also tried pastries.”

“Nanami Kento, the bread maker,” you teased, laughing softly. “Now that is surprising.”

His lips quirked in what might’ve been the faintest smile. “Your turn,” he said, setting down his coffee.

“Me?”

“Yes. Tell me something surprising about you.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… Oh! I’ve always wanted to learn how to scuba dive. But I’m terrified of open water, so that’s probably not going to happen.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and you swore there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “That’s… an interesting contradiction.”

“Isn’t it?” you said, laughing again.

Moments like this became more frequent. Slowly, you found yourselves sharing pieces of your lives, your pasts, and your dreams. He told you about his years in salaryman purgatory, about the decision to leave and pursue a career that actually meant something. You told him about how you’d stumbled into the flower shop business and fallen in love with it, despite the long hours and unpredictable customers.

Despite the growing closeness, there was something neither of you dared to address.

The way his hand would linger just a moment too long when he handed you a coffee. The way your laughter seemed to draw his gaze, as if he couldn’t help but watch you. The way you found yourself checking your reflection in the mirror before meeting him for lunch, or how he would smooth his tie and clear his throat nervously when you arrived.

Neither of you acknowledged it, though. Instead, you continued your routine—coffee, sandwiches, laughter, and conversation that stretched far longer than either of you planned.

One afternoon, as you sat together on a park bench near the café, the topic of relationships came up—entirely by accident.

“So,” you asked, trying to sound casual, “have you ever… been in love?”

Nanami’s expression shifted, his gaze distant for a moment before he answered. “I thought I was,” he said quietly. “But looking back, I don’t think it was real. It was… convenient.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone. “That must’ve been hard.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But I’ve come to terms with it.”

“What about now?” you asked softly. “Do you think you’ll ever… you know, try again?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment before looking away. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Maybe. If the right person came along.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly masked your reaction with a smile. “Well, whoever they are, they’d be lucky to have you.”

He looked at you then, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you shifted again. But before either of you could say anything, his phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

As the weeks went on, you settled into a rhythm that felt both familiar and new. You spent your lunches together, your evenings sometimes punctuated by a text from him asking how your day had gone.

One evening, he surprised you by stopping by the shop again, this time with a small bag of fresh pastries.

“For you,” he said, setting them on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow, peeking inside. “Nanami… did you bake these?”

He cleared his throat, looking almost embarrassed. “I thought you might like them.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Thank you. That’s… really sweet.”

Moments like these made it harder to ignore the feelings growing between you. But you both seemed content to exist in this undefined space—a friendship that felt like more but wasn’t.

It was a nice balance, one neither of you seemed ready to tip.

But as the days turned into weeks, one thing became clear: whatever this was, it was something neither of you wanted to let go of.

Lunches and occasional late-evening visits to the flower shop had become a comfortable part of your routine, a rhythm neither of you acknowledged out loud but both had grown to expect. For you, these moments with Nanami were a brief escape from the chaos of the shop and the dullness of your evenings alone. For him, they were… something else. Something he didn’t want to name just yet.

But despite the growing familiarity between you, there was a tension neither of you seemed willing to break.

Another Unexpected Visit..

It was late one Friday evening, and you were just finishing up with a particularly busy day. The shop had been bustling with last-minute orders for anniversary bouquets and early spring weddings, and now the quiet hum of the place felt like a reward for your hard work.

You were arranging a leftover bundle of roses and peonies when the bell above the door chimed.

“Sorry, we’re clo—” You stopped mid-sentence when you saw Nanami standing there, his usual beige trench coat folded neatly over his arm, his tie slightly loosened as though he’d just finished a long day.

He gave you a faint smile, one that seemed almost shy. “I was in the neighborhood,” he said again, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You really need to find a better excuse,” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron.

He shrugged, stepping further inside. “I thought you might still be here.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you said, gesturing toward the half-finished arrangement on the counter. “It’s been a busy day.”

“Valentine’s season spillover?” he guessed, his eyes briefly scanning the room.

“Something like that.” You leaned against the counter, watching as he moved closer. “What about you? Long day at work?”

“As always,” he said, his tone wry.

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the quiet of the shop wrapping around you both. There was something about having him there, in the soft light of the shop, that felt… safe.

“Can I help?” he asked suddenly, nodding toward the flowers.

You blinked. “Help? You?”

“I’ve been told I have a steady hand,” he said, his lips quirking in what might’ve been the faintest hint of a smile.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I’m not sure the world is ready for Nanami Kento, the florist.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. But he didn’t leave, instead taking a seat on one of the stools near the counter.

“Stay, then,” you said, your tone light. “Keep me company while I finish up.”

As you worked, the conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him. He asked about your day, your customers, and the wedding bouquets you were preparing for next week. You asked about his work, careful to keep the questions light, knowing how heavy his days could be.

At one point, as you were trimming the stems of the roses, he leaned forward slightly. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?” you asked, glancing up at him.

“The shop. Flowers. All of this.”

You paused, considering his question. “Not really,” you said after a moment. “It’s exhausting sometimes, sure, but it’s also… comforting. Flowers make people happy. Even on their worst days, they can look at a bouquet and feel a little better. That’s worth the effort.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “That’s a good way to look at it.”

“What about you?” you asked, setting down the scissors. “Do you ever get tired of your work?”

He hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly on the counter. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But it’s necessary.”

“That doesn’t mean it has to be your whole life,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said more than words could.

After that night, things began to change.

Nanami started showing up more often—not just for lunches or late-night visits, but during the quiet moments of your day. He’d stop by with coffee or pastries, sometimes lingering for a few minutes, other times staying longer, helping you restock shelves or rearrange displays.

“Do you ever take a day off?” you teased one afternoon as he set down two cups of coffee on the counter.

“Do you?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Fair point,” you said with a laugh, taking a sip of your drink.

Your conversations grew more personal, your moments together more intimate in their simplicity. He told you about his childhood, his years as a salaryman, and the quiet mornings he spent reading before the rest of the world woke up. You told him about your family, your dreams of traveling someday, and the nights you spent sketching floral arrangements in your notebook.

Despite the growing closeness, you both maintained the unspoken boundary of friendship. Neither of you wanted to risk shattering the fragile balance you’d built, and yet…

There were moments when the line blurred.

Like the time he showed up unannounced with dinner, insisting you needed to eat something more substantial than the crackers you’d been munching on all day. Or the time you caught him lingering a little too long near the tulips, his expression soft in a way that made your heart ache.

And then there was the time he accidentally brushed your hand while reaching for a vase, his fingers lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, pulling his hand back.

“It’s fine,” you said, your voice a little too breathless.

Moments like that left you wondering if he felt it too—the subtle pull, the quiet yearning that seemed to fill the space between you.

One evening, as you were closing up the shop, you found Nanami waiting outside, his hands in his pockets and a faintly nervous expression on his face.

“Everything okay?” you asked, unlocking the door to let him in.

“Yes,” he said, though his tone was unusually hesitant. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead glancing around the shop as though searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking,” he said finally, his voice low. “About this. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Us?”

He met your gaze, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of uncertainty in his usually steady eyes. “I don’t know what this is,” he admitted. “But it’s… important to me.”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening at his words. “It’s important to me too,” you said softly.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable, the kind that spoke volumes without a single word.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he said finally. “Whatever it is.”

“You won’t,” you said, stepping closer. “But you have to stop overthinking it, Kento. Sometimes, it’s okay to just… feel.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze searching, and then he nodded slowly. “I’ll try,” he said.

It wasn’t a declaration or a promise, but it was enough for now.

In the days that followed, your moments together took on a new kind of warmth. You still weren’t sure what you were to each other—friends, something more, something less—but for now, it didn’t matter.

You shared lunches, laughter, and quiet evenings in the shop. And though neither of you said it out loud, the feelings lingering beneath the surface grew stronger with each passing day.

For now, it was enough to simply be together, to exist in this space you’d carved out for yourselves. And maybe, just maybe, that was the start of something neither of you could ignore much longer.

The moon shines in the sky and the wind blows, the sound soothing and calm.

It was a quiet evening. After a long day at the shop, you’d slipped into a pair of comfortable lounge pants and a worn sweater, intending to wind down with a book and a glass of wine. The soft hum of the city outside your apartment was a familiar backdrop, and the solitude felt soothing.

Then came the knock on your door.

You frowned, glancing at the clock. It was nearly 10 PM. You weren’t expecting anyone, and late-night visitors weren’t exactly common. Setting your book aside, you padded toward the door, brushing stray strands of hair out of your face.

When you opened it, your breath caught slightly.

“Kento,” you said, surprised. He stood there in his usual button-up, though his tie was undone, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. In one hand, he carried a plastic bag with the unmistakable aroma of Chinese takeout.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he said, his tone casual, but his eyes gave away something deeper. “Thought you might not have eaten yet.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “And you just happened to have takeout with you?”

He shrugged, a faint smile of his own appearing. “I had extra.”

You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “Well, it’s hard to say no to free food.”

The two of you settled on the floor around your coffee table, the cartons of fried rice, dumplings, and noodles spread between you like a late-night feast.

“You eat like this often?” you teased, watching as he neatly unpacked chopsticks and napkins.

“Not as often as I should,” he replied. “Work keeps me busy.”

“Doesn’t it always?” you said with a knowing smile.

“And you?” he asked, looking up from his carton of noodles. “Still running yourself ragged at the shop?”

“Only on the days that end in ‘Y,’” you quipped.

His lips quirked into a rare, genuine smile. “Touché.”

The conversation flowed as easily as it always did with him, touching on everything from work to the absurd antics of some of your customers. The food was delicious, but the real highlight of the evening was the company.

At some point, you’d turned on a movie, a romantic comedy you’d seen a dozen times before. It was mostly background noise, a filler for the occasional lulls in conversation.

Nanami glanced at the screen, his expression mildly amused. “This is what you watch in your downtime?”

“Don’t judge,” you said, grinning. “Sometimes I need something lighthearted.”

“No plot twists, no heartbreak,” he said thoughtfully, as if trying to understand.

“Exactly,” you said. “It’s safe.”

“Safe,” he echoed, and there was something in his tone—a faint trace of doubt, maybe even longing—that made you pause.

You looked at him, studying his profile in the dim light. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who played it safe either,” you said lightly.

He gave you a sidelong glance, his lips curving faintly. “And yet, here I am, eating takeout and watching a romantic comedy.”

“Branching out,” you teased, laughing softly.

“Or just keeping you company,” he countered, his tone even.

Your laughter faded, the weight of his words settling between you.

The Wine Brings It Out…

As the movie played on, you poured two glasses of red wine, handing one to Nanami as you returned to the couch. The rich aroma mixed with the lingering scent of soy sauce and spices, creating a strangely intimate atmosphere.

“So,” you said, settling back with your glass, “if you weren’t working long hours and saving people, what would you do with your life?”

He considered your question, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. “Travel, maybe. See places I’ve never had time to.”

“Where would you go first?”

“Somewhere quiet,” he said. “Maybe a small town in Europe. No deadlines, no responsibilities.”

“Sounds nice,” you murmured, your mind painting the image of him walking through cobblestone streets or sipping coffee at a quaint café.

“And you?” he asked, his gaze steady. “What would you do if you weren’t running the shop?”

You laughed softly. “Travel too, probably. But I think I’d want to go somewhere lively—festivals, markets, that sort of thing.”

“You like chaos,” he observed, his tone teasing.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted. “But it’s the good kind of chaos, you know? Full of life and color.”

“Opposite of me, then,” he said, his lips quirking.

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “I wouldn’t say that.”

The Air Shifts..

As the wine disappeared and the movie played on, the conversation grew softer, the pauses between your words growing heavier.

“You’re different than I expected,” you said suddenly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He raised an eyebrow, his glass halfway to his lips. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your cheeks warming slightly. “You’re so serious at first glance, but then… you’re not. Not entirely.”

He chuckled softly, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “I could say the same about you.”

“Oh?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him.

“You come across as carefree,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But there’s a lot more to you than that.”

The way he said it made your heart skip a beat, the intensity of his gaze leaving you momentarily breathless.

You were close now, closer than you realized, and the air between you seemed to hum with something unspoken.

It happened almost without thought.

Nanami leaned in slightly, his eyes flickering to your lips for the briefest of moments before meeting your gaze again. You felt your breath hitch, your heart pounding in your chest as his face drew closer.

You didn’t move away.

The faint brush of his lips against yours was like an electric current, a fleeting, tentative touch that left you both frozen in place.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the movie, the wine, the takeout—all of it fading into the background.

But then he pulled back, his jaw tight and his expression conflicted.

“We shouldn’t,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

You nodded, though your heart ached at the loss of his warmth. “You’re right.”

The tension in the room was almost unbearable as he stood, smoothing the front of his shirt.

“I should go,” he said, not meeting your eyes.

“Okay,” you said softly, watching as he walked to the door.

He paused for a moment, his hand on the handle. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kento,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The Next Morning was torture.

The awkwardness was immediate and undeniable.

When Nanami texted you the next morning—a simple “Good morning” accompanied by a photo of his coffee—you felt a strange mix of relief and discomfort.

“Morning,” you replied, hesitating before adding, “Thanks for last night.”

His response was short but polite. “Anytime.”

You couldn’t tell if the tension from the night before lingered in his words or if you were imagining it. Either way, it left you feeling restless, the memory of his almost-kiss playing on a loop in your mind.

At the shop, you found yourself glancing at the door more often than usual, half-hoping and half-dreading that he might walk through it.

When he finally did, the air between you felt charged, the unspoken feelings and unresolved tension hanging over you like a storm cloud.

But despite the awkwardness, the connection between you remained, fragile but unbroken.

For now, that was enough.

#jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento #for you #fanfic

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galacticnikki · 9 months ago

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100 Witchcraft Tips in 100 Days!

Day 4 - How to Create a Herbal Grimoire

A Herbal Grimoire is a journal, notebook, or online resource where you note down what you learn. Note down your research on the plant, your experiences using it in spells, the results of the spells. Over time it will grow and be a sort of encyclopedia tailored to your personal practice and knowledge. It should also overtime become a reference guide there to help you remember correspondences, notice patterns in your practice, and track the success of your spells.

How to Start Your Herbal Grimoire

1. Choose Your Format: You want to start by picking where you want to make your grimoire. You could use a notebook, a journal, loose paper, a binder, any note apps, if you're able to write in or on it then it's a format you can use.

2. Sections to Include: You can divide up your grimoire into sections to keep it organized. Here's a few ideas for sections:

Herb Profiles: Set aside a page to write about its correspondences, physical properties, folklore, or personal experiences with it.

Spells and Recipes: Write down any spells or recipes you make using herbs. Write down the ingredients, steps, and outcome of each spell.

Harvesting and Storage Tips: Include guidelines on how to properly harvest, dry, and store each herb.

Personal Reflections: As you work with herbs, reflect on your experiences with them. Ask yourself questions like "How did the spell feel using those specific herb?" or "What herbs do I tend to gravitate towards?"

3. Correspondences: Research each herb's magical properties and write them down. You can include elemental correspondences, planetary rulers, or even deity associations.

4. Add Personal Touches: Always remember this is your book, you can design it however you want. Customize your book however you see fit.

Why a Herbal Grimoire is Important

It Becomes Your Personal Guide: Even though there are many correspondences you can find in books or online, having your own grimoire brings you closer to your practice. You might even learn something new that you haven't seen anywhere else.

It Tracks Your Growth: As you write down your experiences you'll begin to notice how you're practice has evolved over time. You might start noticing patterns and specific herbs you're drawn to.

It Enhances Focus and Intention: Writing down your research and experience also helps you to retain the knowledge you've learned.

It Helps Build a Deeper Connection with Nature: As you learn more about working with herbs the more you learn about nature. This let's you know more about your local environment and how you could potentially help it.

Tips for Keeping a Grimoire

Consistency is Key: Regularly update your grimoire with new information.

Make if Your Own: Don't be scared to stray from the traditional correspondences if others better match your results.

Don't Rush: You're grimoire will slowly grow over time. Don't feel pressured to fill it up quickly. The more thought you put into your grimoire the better it'll be.

If you want to find more of these entries use the hashtag #100 Witchcraft Tips in 100 Days! If you want to join a group of witches feel free to join our 18+ coven on Discord.

#100 Witchcraft Tips in 100 Days #witch #witchcraft #baby witch #witchblr #paganblr #herbal witch #100 days challenge #beginner witch #witchcraft tips

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vhstown · 2 years ago

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gwen stacy ★ general headcanons

content/warnings: mentions of underage drinking, implied & mentions of death

a/n: hey 😁 a levels beating my arse. thx 2 @qiupachups 4 helping w these 🫡 give it up for gwendy ‼️ (unedited)

Gwen is a collector — but not of collectibles. She has a secret empire of the most random things, and is thoroughly embarrassed when anyone finds it: tickets, pins, soda can tabs, cool-looking clothing tags, mismatched hair clips, paper clips, little things stolen from school, etc. Anything she things is remotely interesting has a place in a very specifically organised box under her bed, tucked away from the world and taken out occasionally to be adjusted or stared at. It's essentially the same as being a collector, right...?

She had a fashion hobby she grew out of, but it re-kindles when she has to design a suit for herself. Initially, it's made up of thermal sportswear but she comes up with actual designs at some point, modifying it overtime to include the hood and to integrate it with her ballet slippers.

When it comes to art, Gwen's style would be a lot like a fashion student's. I headcanon her to have aphantasia so her main strength is drawing clothing, and a lot of her drawings are based on herself as a reference (she can literally only draw herself well...) Rather than a sketchbook, she has a journal that's also full of photographs and writing as well as her drawings, and the occasional crumpled up drum score.

Has a knack for sewing and customises some of her clothes, though it's more personal touches and the occasional crop rather than completely overhauling a piece of clothing. Everyday items of hers have at least a little embroidery or design on them and she likes doing patterns on like bags and converse for her friends. Wants to make plushies and things but always manages to get distracted so there's a bunch of unfinished projects in her closet. (I would totally buy from her on Etsy though 😁)

Gwen did ballet as a kid and developed the enraging habit of cracking EVERY joint in her body. She's the mf that twists in the chair in front of you and stares deep into your soul while cracking her back. Cracks things you don't even know you could crack without shame my girl is a whole instrument 😭

Ballet is something her dad pushed her towards, alongside music (though he preferred she did something more traditional). Initially Gwen did feel out of place in her classes. A lot of the other children at her classes were already well-versed in it, and a lot of times she found she wanted to quit. Only after learning that her mom Helen did ballet did she willingly pick it up again at an older age, incorporating the technique into her fighting style.

Gwen used to play a few different instruments as a kid but none of them really stuck. For a while, she thought she hated music when she did piano and the recorder, but when she got her hands on a drumkit at her school and a couple lessons, she knew it was the one.

Her drumming is definitely more freestyle, and even though she's good she has a lot of problems with her high energy, spontaneous and emotive style. That means she breaks her drumsticks ALL the time. There's no way she's banging all that out on the drums without an unfortunate snap or two, so she always keeps another pair handy. She's broken her drumsticks so much that there's a collection of them torn up at the bottom of her bag (she never bothers to throw them out, and might've given herself a splinter reaching in to find something 💀)

Speaking of drumsticks, she has one lucky pair she uses for important performances, carrying them practically everywhere. They've essentially rotted in their fancy little fabric case since she'd gottem them, the custom "GWENDOLYN MAXINE STACY" imprinted on it having almost completely eroded away.

Though, she's only ever used them once; her dad had bought them for her for a school performance, which she had to bail last minute when her Spider-sense suddenly activated. Running off to fight a villain not a street away, Peter Parker follows her, and he realises just who Spider-Woman really is.

While she was planning to use them at her prom performance with her band... that never happened. After that, everything reminded her of that night, and her relationship with The Mary Janes dwindled until she quit altogether. The band only lasted a few months prior, and since they never got to perform at prom, Gwen found herself playing for no reason at all, other than to get rid of her pent-up energy and forget about the fact that she's basically a wanted criminal.

When she's living in Hobie's universe, she ends up breaking her "lucky" drumsticks and is, understandably, a little shattered by it, but Hobie gets her another pair, "GWENDY" written in mismatched letters on the side. That "G" was definitely a last-minute addition, though. He also teaches her how to stop breaking them so often. "Bit of advice — use the wrists, not just the arms."

Gwen's definitely not meant to drink, so whenever Hobie goes to the pub he makes sure not to, suggesting his friends don't get pissed out of their minds either (though she might steal a sip of something fruity now and again.)

Hobie takes her to gigs all the time, and sometimes she drums for his ones. The first time she does it, she's nervous of course, but her sound immediately gets the crowd going and it's the talk of the town for a week straight (and her drumsticks didn't break!)

There's no shortage of junk food, of course. Just like all the takeout she'd have back at home, Hobie would make sure to take her around all the local spots. Although it's not exactly the same, anything beats the plasticky cafeteria food in 2099. Stopping for a kebab or two in the middle of anomaly-hunting isn't really against the rules anyway.

Gwen is friendly with pretty much everyone in the Spider-society because everyone knows who "Gwen Stacy" is, but she never really wants to meet another version of herself (given how unsettling it is with context). Also very awkward around any MJs — or Peters. Peter B essentially being an older 65!Peter definitely freaks her out a little at first.

Misses Miles, obviously, and probably had something she wanted to make for him back in her universe that she could never retrieve. Maybe when she gets Hobie's watch she'll bring it along with her — would Miles like a knitted neckwarmer?

SO best friends with Margo. Her tech lets Gwen see into her universe sometimes (Miguel wouldn't let her 😞) and Margo is super keen on learning about her universe. They both hang out with Peni and it's a fun little girl trio (Peni totally takes them to her universe to see all the giant mechs 😁 "Girls night!" BOOM!)

Number 1 girlfail. She hasn't broken those new drumsticks yet! But drumming can wait — and all those projects at the back of her closet, and her unresolved dispute with MJ and the band, and her dad at home. Going from her small world to having an entire multiverse against her and her friends, Gwen's got one hell of a show to put on, right?

“I never found the right band to join, so I started my own, with a few old friends.”

“You want in?”

🩰🕸️💫

@phoenixinthefiles (it's cause of you im always writing hcs 😭😭😭 /pos)

hi bunklies 😁 ive been averaging like 4h of sleep cuz of skl but ill fix up soon trust... hope you are all doing okay ! ive never written anything for gwen before so i hope this is an okay start lol

atsv masterlist here! reblogs always appreciated :) see u around <3

#gwen stacy #gwen stacy headcanons #spider gwen #gwendolyn stacy #earth 65 #spider woman #spiderverse #atsv headcanons #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #itsv #vhstown

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timeslostart · 2 months ago

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April 3rd, 2025

DO EVERYTHING WITH PURPOSE

Skills can be even more important than the idea...

So lately, I've been feeling like people who are making knitting patterns are forgetting that this is, in fact, a service industry. What I mean by this is that as knitwear designers, it is literally our job to design a quality product to benefit the consumer in some way. We are providing them with the instructions to make a wearable item or, at least, an item that has some sort of purpose. We are selling them deconstructed clothing, so to speak. (I know deconstructed dishes are still popular in the culinary world right now, and I think the analogy works well here. Thank you, Gordon Ramsay!) We are literally at the whims of our customers, not the other way around. I also think that would-be designers are forgetting that just like any other skill, it takes years to hone your pattern writing craft.

As I've become more active on social media and in the online knitting groups promoting my business I've noticed a few things, mostly, knittng patterns are everywhere nowadays! Literally anything that you want you can find online. Hundreds of thousands of designs now plague the internet and our social media feeds, but, how many of them are actually any good? I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've purchased a digital pattern from a self-published designer just to be disappointed by the lack of thought and care that has gone into writing it.

It seems now, that everyone and their dog is calling themselves a knitwear designer. Younger people, especially, who only have one or two years of knitting experience are writing patterns to sell to knitters at astromnomically absurd prices just to make a quick buck. Yes, these people know how to take a very pretty picture but very few of them truly have any idea how to write a quality knitting pattern.

Just because you can make something does not mean that you are a designer. In order to be a designer you need the knowledge (measurements, construction techniques, why things are done a certain way, etc.), the skills (knowing how to manipulate the stitches to create the fabric you want, knowing the stitches in general, understanding how to write something clearly and concisely to convey your ideas into a tutortial type of format), and the practice (years of experimentation, trial and error, the actual learning of the knitting craft itself). These things cannot and should not be rushed. These things are ones that I have spent the last 10 years perfecting and truthfully it will probably take at least another 10 more before I will even begin to feel satisfied with my skillset.

I am just now, in the past few years, starting to refer to myself as a designer. I have never been professionally published and I have very little formal training. However, what does differentiate my patterns from other self-published patterns is that I am in the process of being formally trained and I actually do want to work in the fashion industry; not just dabble in it because it is trendy and might get me a handful of likes on my social feeds. I do want to create quality, professional patterns that everyone can use for years to come and hopefully teach their children and grandchildren with.

Like I said earlier, being a knitwear designer means that you are in the service industry. Your job is to create a design/pattern for your consumer - a fellow knitter to work from so they can replicate your design precisely. So that means that your pattern has to be clear and concise and adhere to a certain standard. Anyone can become a knitter but not everyone can become a knitwear designer/pattern maker without years of practice and training.

I always tell my children to do everything with purpose; to put your whole heart into something and make it the best that it can possibly be. Here at TLA all of our patterns are being written and rewritten multiple times until they meet our high quality standards. Every pattern is tested by everyday, ordinary people from all over the world, walks of life and various skillsets. This can be over the course of a few months or even a few years; all to ensure that we can achieve the highest level of professionalism and quality possible because that is what our customers deserve. Knitting shouldn't be hard and the patterns you use should be helps and not hindrances.

Gabrielle Vansteelandt - Times Lost Art

#knitblr #knitters of tumblr #knitpatterns #timeslostart #knittingpatterns #hand embroidery #crafting #handmade #knitting pattern #knitting #knit #knitwear #fiber crafts #fiber art #fiber arts #crafts

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aria-bun · 4 months ago

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But I know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done

In which Corvus helps Soren use his new sword Co-written and edited by the lovely lovely @sorinethemastermindI write the Corvus POV's, they write the Soren POVs. Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

Watching Soren try to use the whip sword was…

More entertaining than Corvus would ever acknowledge out loud.

He leaned against one of the smaller trees in the Silvergrove, watching Soren trying over and over to get the mechanism right.

It was quite funny.

And with the sun rising, he finally got the answer to his earlier question.

The Silvergrove did have rotating nocturnal and diurnal societies, each with their differences.

Horn jewelry, for one. He found that it was more common with the nocturnal society compared to the diurnal society so far, and the ones that were worn in the diurnal society were made of white gold instead of silver.

It was interesting.

He wondered what other ways the two societies differentiated. Food? Customs? Or were they the same in ways that he wasn’t able to just see, but hear as well?

There was a loud thud, drawing Corvus’ attention back to Soren, who was now flat on his back.

“Are you okay?” He called to him, amused.

Soren scrambled back up. “Yep! Totally fine.” He rubbed the side of his head. “Just practicing.”

“Do you want help?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, and Corvus heard him let out a loud sigh.

“Please help.”

He would admit, he didn’t know too much about how the sword worked; only what Ethari showed him. But he figured it couldn’t be too different from his chain.

Right?

Corvus laughed slightly, pushing off the tree to walk over to Soren, thinking back to how he saw Ethari activate the sword.

“You have to stand more perpendicular to your target, with your back foot fanned out a bit.”

Soren adjusted his stance, now fully perpendicular to where he was standing before “Like this?”

He shook his head slightly. “A bit too much. Hold on.” Corvus walked around to stand behind Soren, adjusting his stance by his shoulders and using his foot to nudge Soren’s out a bit.

His head turned to look at Corvus, their faces uncomfortably close.

Kiss him.

He flinched at the sudden thought, stepping back a few paces. “Looks good.” He managed to get out, his face heating up. “Make sure to flick your wrist.”

Soren grinned at him before looking forward. He slashed the sword outward, flicking his wrist. The blade came apart, a loud metallic crack filling the air. The blade wrapped around a tree branch, and with a slight tug, severed the branch from the tree. The branch dropped to the ground as the blade retracted to the hilt.

Soren spun around to look at Corvus, his grin widening. “It worked!”

He found himself grinning back at him. “Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

Looking at Soren, his brain analyzed his face. The curve of his jaw, the steep slant of his nose bridge, the small glint in his eyes. Eyes that put the sky and the sea to utter shame.

And the patterns. His eyes seemed to seek out the blue curves and lines now littering his skin. Under his eyes, around the tip of his ear, poking from the collar of his red undershirt, and circling around his middle fingers.

And the one’s he couldn’t see, like the interlocking circles that travelled down his back, in between his shoulder blades.

It felt like they were always there, always a part of him. Even if no one else could see it. Even if he couldn’t see it.

He felt like he had been seeing them his whole life. Every curve and swirl on his skin

And, part of Corvus hoped that he’d be seeing them for the rest of his life, too. However long that ended up being in the end.

#its quicker and easier to eat your young fic #tdp soren #tdp corvus #tdp sorvus #sorvus fic #fic

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lilo-jacos · 4 months ago

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Valentines Gift Exchange!

Ask: Preferably if it is a ship a lgbtq ship or a fun and lighthearted fic. // Icks Mareven

@kracenstar @nortaeventcouncil

*Long story short I decided to just share this for now. Is it my best work? Not even close. I had some complications with my chronic illness near the end that got in the way of writing but tbh this was modeled after a conversation I had on Chai with Cal and Gisa that I fell in love with and decided it fit the challenge of what this person wanted. If anyone wants the continuation version where they go to the lake after, I'll be happy to continue it! Knowing me it will contain a ton of Marecal, Gisa and Olivia exploring more of their crushes on each other and cute moments with the dog so hey🤷🏼‍♀️ if you're into that let me know!*

---

Marecal and Gisa Crush AU:

Cal drove while “Hot To Go” blasted through the car speakers. Of course he got stuck with driving three teenage girls around for a day out. Gisa and Olivia danced in the backseat while Mare scrolled on her phone and sang the words under her breath taking up the passenger. He didn’t mind the song, the girls made him do a TikTok with them to it and he was all smiles. Liv worked for Cal’s grandmother for years, she and him basically grew up together. She’s like his little sister, especially now that he’s out of the palace and he was able to get her a place across town. They’ve been able to have easier interactions apart from just when he’s visiting Nonabel. Mare has taken a liking to her, and evidently Gisa definitely has with the way they instantly clicked and exchange glances toward each other suggesting more than normal friendship feelings. The car shakes as the vibrations of the music turn everyone into the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, dancing their hearts out as the girls laugh and sing along. Roz, the German shepherd puppy in the boot of the car happily peers over the seats to watch. It only takes a while for them to get to the market.

It’s an alley-like opening leading to rows of shops and produce suppliers, a lot of places to sell food of different varieties. Many sounds overlap each other. Crowds in different conversations, laughing, food sizzling on grills, cars passing by outside the street, Olivia already talking about the boba stall. “I haven’t had boba in so long, I actually need it now before I suffer from lack of tapioca pearls.”

“It’s been two days!” Gisa laughs.

“That’s the equivalent of a lifetime when it comes to boba.”

With how many ovens there are in an enclosed space, the market heats up fast. In reality the weather is chilly but as soon as you walk through the alley a bit you can start to feel your skin warming like a day in the sun. Mare has on a black and white bandana-patterned top that simply wraps around her neck with no sleeves paired with dark jeans. Gisa has a lightweight long-sleeve on filled with light browns and greens. Her curly hair is pulled up into a voluminous ponytail, bouncing with every step she takes.

“You got money?” Cal asks Liv, one hand holding onto Roz’s leash.

“Yeah I brought my wallet this time. We splitting up?”

Mare takes over, happily continuing on further to get to the boba stall. “No, we can stay together. Make a double date out of it.” She winks and Gisa blushes, nudging Mare with her elbow.

The bubble tea shop is on the corner of a turn right next to a ramen shop and custom popcorn bar. That rich, buttery smell of popcorn overtakes the corridor even near the sushi bar. It’s like a movie theater without the movie. The boba store has an oil diffuser going to try to battle the scent but it’s practically useless for everyone but the workers; only managing to make it smell like kernel scented lavender. Gisa got brown sugar bubble tea and Liv got strawberry, Mare got a blackberry smoothie and Roz got a small cup of whipped cream. Cal tries to sip some from Mare’s drink and she immediately swats him away. “You said you didn’t want one!”

“I just want to try it!”

“Get your own then!”

They continue their banter, fighting like they hate each other even with the smiles they have and their interlocked fingers saying otherwise.

Making their way to the normal shopping district the air is cloudy from the smoke of the grills smelling like charred meat and sizzling oil. It clears up the more they follow through but stays when they pass into a small business trinkets shop across the street from a taco bar. Olivia takes Gisa’s hand and leads her to handmade jewelry, holding up gold teardrop earrings. “These are pretty, you’d like nice in them!” She says, holding up the pair for Gisa to see.

“There’s a matching set, one silver and one gold, should we get them?” Gisa smiles, holding up the matching silver pair. There was just enough room on her ear to get a normal piercing for her interchangeable jewelry apart from the stones her brothers gave her when they got conscripted. She still likes the extra earrings, that means extra bling. That’s not the only reason, of course, but each jewel gives her another part of her story to tell.

The shop is filled with many different eclectic pieces - most handmade - from jewelry to plushies and shirts to flags. It smells like dust even when the colors look bright and youthful. Cal is looking at a little leather purse near the entrance. “Would you wear this?” He asks Mare, her smoothie in his hand ever since she let him have a sip and he decided he liked it.

“Maybe, or we could take it to Farley. I’m sure someone at the guard could use something like that.”

By the time they leave Mare and Cal got a few bags to take to the guard and stuffed animals for the nursery; Gisa stocked up on embroidered patches to include in her designs and shipments. The matching earrings were worn immediately after being bought, the girls switching out their current jewelry to the new ones. “March and Mex?” Mare asks. It’s one of her favorite places to get her favorite food. She would travel hours for their steak tacos, she even once said she loved them more than Cal as a joke. That she would trade him in for just one cup of the Mex’s sauces.

“Should I get a burrito or just a taco?�� Cal asks on the way.

“The way you eat, probably a burrito.” Mare smiles. Grouped fans line the top of the walls to try to keep the temperature down in the food court making the space even more muffled with the loud whooshing from above. Every corner of the market has space for tables. Some are occupied by couples or friends eating and others are playing cards on the stained wood seats. This station in particular is lined with graffiti. After ordering, they make their way to a little table in the corner fitting four in front of a floor-to-ceiling colorful portrait of a cityscape. The wood is slightly chipped, dirty from its last occupant. Mare sweeps away the crumbs whole Cal settles Roz under the table out of the way from those passing by. Behind the wall is a hot wings stand she’s smelling so he has to make sure the leash is secure.

“You think it warmed enough for the lake yet?” Gisa asks, mixing around her salad. Liv got a bowl, Cal got his burrito and Mare is too busy already enjoying her beloved tacos to answer.

“It should’ve, it should be one of the last good days to go before it gets too cold.” Cal says.

#red queen #redqueen #victoria aveyard #redqueenseries #books #mare barrow #mare and cal #cal calore #gisa barrow #gisa barrow gay af

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st-kitten · 6 months ago

Text

brat party pt.6

i'll likely upload the last chapter today itself since i have a work holiday. college started, so i don't want to drag this a lot and leave readers left with 'what nexts'

warnings: angst, weed, coke

the morning sun filtered through the shoji screens, casting soft patterns of light and shadow on the tatami mat where you and mikoto sat. her hand rested lightly in yours as you worked on the henna design, the faint, earthy smell of the paste filling the air.

"you’re really skilled at this," mikoto said softly, watching as the delicate swirls and lines took shape on her hand.

"years of practice,” you replied with a small smile. “it’s a tradition back home. every festival, every wedding, someone’s always asking for henna."

mikoto tilted her head, a curious glint in her eyes. “are there any customs tied to it?”

you paused, thinking as you drew a tiny, intricate leaf. “well, there’s this one where you hide the husband’s name in the design. it’s kind of like a game—if he finds it, it’s supposed to mean good luck or that the love is strong.”

after a moment of silence, mikoto spoke, her tone soft but amused. “would you write fugaku’s name for me? in kanji, of course. i’d love to see if he notices.”

you laughed gently at her request, setting the henna cone aside for a moment to consider how best to incorporate the characters into the delicate, minimal design. “all right,” you said, leaning closer to examine the pattern you’d already started. “let’s hide it so well, he’ll be staring at your hand for hours.”

mikoto chuckled, her cheeks faintly pink, though whether from the warmth of the room or your teasing, you couldn’t tell.

as your henna cone danced over her hand, you explained, “we’ll weave it right here. though, if he can’t find it, i’ll take no blame..."

mikoto smiled and shook her head, "either he finds it or i get to tease him about it forever."

sasuke entered the living room, spotting you and his mother. for a moment, seeing his mother smile and be relaxed made him giddy, but the persistent unease that had settled since the day before kept beating in his heart.

"y/n."

the mood shifted the moment sasuke called your name. his tone was calm—too calm—and the glint in his eyes was unreadable. you set the henna cone down carefully, excusing yourself from mikoto with a polite smile before following him. he led you down a quiet hallway, out of earshot of anyone else in the house.

once you were alone, he turned to you, his arms crossed, the familiar tension radiating from his posture like a storm brewing on the horizon.

“you need to leave,” he said abruptly, his voice low but firm, leaving no room for argument.

you blinked, caught off guard. “what?”

“you’ve overstayed your welcome,” he continued, his words clipped. “it’s time for you to go back to campus.”

you did not expect that all of a sudden. "you invited me here."

"and now i'm asking you to leave."

the coldness in his voice stung, far more than you were willing to admit. “sasuke, if i’ve done something wrong—”

“you haven’t,” he cut you off, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder, as though looking at you directly might break his resolve. “but you shouldn’t be here any longer. this is my family."

"what is this about?” your voice cracked, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded. “because your family’s been nothing but kind to me."

he took a step closer, towering over you now, his presence suffocating. “this is about us. or whatever you think this is.”

“what i think this is?” you repeated, your voice trembling now, not with fear but with something far more fragile. “sasuke, i—”

“don’t,” he snapped, his hand flying up as if to ward off your words. he closed his eyes for a moment, his breath shaky as he exhaled. when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but it didn’t soften. “it’s better if you leave. it’s better if… we stop whatever this is before it gets worse.”

“worse?” you echoed. “what are you so afraid of, sasuke?”

his jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. he didn’t answer, and the silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

you scoffed. "there's a difference between protecting yourself and punishing others for no reason."

“this isn’t about me,” he said. “it’s about you. you don’t belong here. you never did.”

the words gutted you, their cruelty only magnified by the fact that you could see through them. his voice was steady, but the slight tremor in his hands, the way his eyes couldn’t meet yours—those told the truth. he didn't mean it.

you took a step back, suddenly feeling like an intruder in a place that had felt so warm and welcoming just moments ago.

“if that’s what you really think,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “then i’ll go.”

you wanted to scream at him, to ask why he was doing this, why he was pushing you away when you’d only ever been kind to him, only ever cared. but you didn’t. instead, you nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and walked away before he could see the tears collecting in your eyes.

when you reached your room, the weight of it all finally hit you. the warmth of the uchiha estate, the feeling of being welcome, of belonging—it had all been ripped away in an instant. and as you mindlessly packed your bag, staring out the window at the sprawling grounds you’d come to love, you wondered if sasuke felt even a fraction of the hurt he’d just inflicted on you.

you left quietly, without a peep, before lunch.

every step felt heavier than the last, as if the very walls of the uchiha estate were reluctant to let you go.

but you couldn’t stay. not after what sasuke had said.

you'd still left a small note on the hot table in the living room where you knew they'd have tea in the evening.

the train station was quiet, save for the occasional hum of announcements and the soft shuffle of passengers moving about. snow blanketed everything outside, turning the small town into a postcard-perfect winter scene. you’d bought a ticket for the night train, giving yourself hours to wait, not because you needed to but because leaving too quickly felt… wrong.

you found a spot on one of the wooden benches near the platform, its cold surface biting through the fabric of your coat. pulling a book from your bag, you settled in, your fingers stiff from the chill as you turned the pages. the story was a distraction, one you were grateful for, even if the words occasionally blurred when your mind drifted.

at lunchtime, you stepped outside to the small convenience store across the street. the bell above the door jingled softly as you entered, the warmth inside momentarily soothing. you picked up a simple onigiri and a bottle of green tea, paying the cashier with a polite nod.

you unwrapped the onigiri carefully, the smell of rice and seaweed faint but comforting. the first bite was bland, but you didn’t mind. it was food, and it was enough. as you ate, your eyes wandered to the snowy platform, watching the occasional flurry drift lazily from the sky.

the hours passed slowly, the world outside shifting from the muted whites of the afternoon to the deep blues of early evening. the station began to quiet even more, as though it, too, was preparing for the year’s end.

when the train finally pulled into the station, the sound of its brakes cut through the stillness. you boarded with your bag slung over your shoulder, finding a window seat near the back of the car. as the train began to move, you leaned your head against the cold glass, watching the snow-covered countryside roll by.

the houses were lit with warm, golden light, some decorated with twinkling strings of white and red, preparing for new year’s celebrations. you imagined families inside, bustling around tables, clinking glasses, and sharing laughter. the contrast to your quiet solitude was sharp, but you told yourself it was fine. it is what it is.

as the train chugged on, the rhythmic sound of the wheels against the tracks became a lullaby, lulling you into a strange calm. you sipped the last of your green tea, the bottle now cold in your hands, and watched as the lights of the small villages you passed grew sparser.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered what the uchiha estate looked like at that very moment—whether mikoto was setting the table with small decorations, whether itachi helped her cook a nice dinner, whether the family finally wore something other than black, whether sasuke—

you shook the thought away, closing your eyes briefly.

new year’s eve passed without fanfare for you, just the quiet hum of the train and the faint vibration of its journey forward.

as the clock struck midnight, you were somewhere between two small towns, watching the snow fall against the glass, letting the world pull you along with it.

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sasuke had been dragged to the low wooden table in the living room, the emptiness doing little to ease the cold knot that had taken root in his chest. in front of him lay the small note you had left, its delicate handwriting almost mocking in its sincerity.

mikoto and itachi sat across from him, their gazes heavy with disappointment and confusion. mikoto had picked up the note again, her fingers trembling slightly as she read your words for the third time, as if doing so might help her understand. the quiet gratitude you had expressed, the way you had called the estate “a home away from home” — it only deepened the ache in her heart.

“she thanked us for our hospitality,” mikoto finally said, her voice low but sharp enough to cut through the tense silence. her eyes lifted to meet sasuke’s, searching for something in his expression. "why would you just let her leave like that?"

he didn’t answer immediately, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. his hands were fisted on the table, knuckles white.

itachi, who had been silent until now, leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “you’re not this careless. what happened?”

sasuke’s gaze flicked to the note, then away again, as if the words burned more every time he looked at them. “it wasn’t like that,” he said finally, his voice rough, defensive. “she... overstayed. it was time for her to leave.”

“overstayed?” mikoto echoed, her tone incredulous. “sasuke, she was a guest. she didn’t ask for anything. she even helped around the house—”

“this isn’t about her,” sasuke snapped, the frustration spilling over before he could stop it. his voice echoed slightly in the room, startling even himself.

itachi’s expression remained calm, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that pierced through sasuke’s weak defenses. “then what is it about?”

he looked away, his eyes fixed on the far corner of the room, where the shadows seemed to gather like a judgment.

“i didn’t want her here,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less strained.

“you didn’t want her here, or you didn’t want to feel what you were feeling?” itachi asked, his tone unnervingly steady, yet laced with an unspoken accusation.

sasuke’s head whipped toward his brother, his glare fierce, but itachi didn’t flinch. the eldest uchiha had always been able to see through him, peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had.

“she doesn’t belong here,” sasuke muttered, the words bitter on his tongue. “she’s better off at campus, with her own life, not... not here.”

mikoto’s brows furrowed, her expression softening, though the hurt lingered in her eyes. “sasuke, you don’t send someone away for their own good by making them feel like they’re not wanted.”

itachi’s gaze shifted briefly to the note, then back to sasuke. “did she even understand why you asked her to leave? or did you make her think she wasn’t welcome?”

sasuke didn’t answer, his throat tightening as the weight of their words pressed down on him. the truth was, he didn’t know what you had thought, because he hadn’t given you a chance to explain. he’d pushed you away, shoved the words out in a panic, hoping that distancing himself from you would extinguish the fire he couldn’t control.

but now, sitting at the table with the echo of your absence growing louder by the second, he wasn’t so sure. all he knew was that he had done what he thought he had to, and yet, it didn’t feel like relief. it felt like loss.

fugaku entered the room silently, his imposing presence enough to make the already tense atmosphere feel worse. he had been listening from the hallway, and the slight furrow in his brow as he approached the table made sasuke’s stomach twist.

“what’s this i hear about you sending away a guest?” fugaku’s deep voice was calm, yet laced with the authority that always made the air around him feel heavier. he stood at the head of the table, his hands behind his back, his piercing gaze fixed on sasuke.

“it wasn’t like that,” sasuke muttered, not meeting his father’s eyes.

“then explain it to me,” fugaku said evenly, though there was a sharpness to his words. “because from where i stand, it sounds like you’ve embarrassed this family.”

mikoto’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at her husband. “anata—”

fugaku calmly looked at her, telling her he'll handle it.

“we are the uchiha. we do not exhibit such poor hospitality, especially not to someone who has done nothing to deserve it.”

sasuke flinched slightly, his father’s words hitting harder than he expected. “she... she overstayed,” he said weakly, the excuse sounding even thinner now.

fugaku raised an eyebrow, his expression hardening. “overstayed? she was here because you invited her, was she not?”

sasuke’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

“then it was your responsibility to ensure she felt welcome until she chose to leave,” fugaku continued, his tone growing colder. “instead, you sent her away. tell me, sasuke, was there any indication that she was a burden to this household? any sign that she disrespected our home or our family?”

“no,” sasuke admitted through gritted teeth.

“then your actions are unacceptable,” fugaku said bluntly. “the uchiha do not treat their guests this way. ever.”

mikoto reached out, placing a hand gently on fugaku’s arm. “perhaps he didn’t mean—”

“intentions mean little when the result is the same,” fugaku cut her off, though his tone softened slightly. he looked back at sasuke, his disappointment evident. “you’ve disrespected not only her, but this family, and our name.”

sasuke’s fists clenched on the table. he wanted to argue, to defend himself, but the weight of his father’s words crushed any rebuttal before it could form.

itachi, who had been silent for most of the exchange, finally spoke. “she didn’t leave because she felt unwelcome by us,” he said quietly, his gaze steady on his brother. “she left because you made her feel unwanted by you.”

the room fell silent again, the only sound the faint crackle of the hearth. fugaku sighed, his expression softening slightly, though his disappointment lingered.

“whatever your reasons, sasuke, you’ve made a mistake,” he said finally. “and you will have to live with the consequences of it.”

with that, fugaku turned and left the room and mikoto followed him, leaving the brothers behind.

itachi remained seated, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, studying sasuke in the way only an older brother could.

itachi began quietly, his voice calm, almost patient, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” sasuke muttered, though the bitterness in his voice betrayed him.

itachi’s lips curved into the faintest, almost imperceptible smile, not one of amusement but of understanding. “you’ve always been a terrible liar, sasuke.”

a moment of silence passed by. leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, itachi asked, “you sent her away because you felt nothing? or because you felt too much?”

“you don’t understand,” sasuke said finally, his voice low, almost defeated.

“then help me understand,” itachi replied, his tone soft but insistent. “you’re not one to act impulsively, sasuke. yet you pushed her away, knowing it would hurt her—and, judging by the look on your face, knowing it would hurt you too. why?”

sasuke felt like hiding from all this confrontation.

"i don't do girlfriends."

"who said anything about girlfriends?"

itachi's response made sasuke twitch.

"i mean. i... she..." sasuke bit back a scream. "it's too much. she was... everywhere. with you, with mother, with... father."

itachi didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence hang between them like a thick fog. he watched sasuke’s hands flex and twitch, betraying the unease he was trying so hard to mask. then, finally, itachi spoke, his voice calm but with an underlying sharpness.

“you’re acting like it’s the worst thing in the world, sasuke,” itachi said, his tone a mixture of concern and quiet reprimand. “but what’s so terrible about her being everywhere? about her being with the people who care about you?”

“it’s not about her... being around. it’s just...” he hesitated, words caught in his throat. “she doesn’t... she doesn’t belong here.”

“and why does that matter?” itachi asked, his eyes narrowing, trying to gauge sasuke’s every reaction. “why does it matter so much to you that she doesn't fit the mould you’ve created for your life?”

sasuke’s chest tightened, and he looked away, frustration building inside him, threatening to spill over. “because everything about her is... too much,” he said, voice low but thick with emotion. “she’s different, but in a way that everyone notices. you notice. father notices.” he stopped, as if the weight of his own words had just caught up with him.

itachi looked at his little brother pensively. "sasuke... do you feel unnoticed? by us?"

his words had caught sasuke off guard, digging at something he had never voiced aloud, not even to himself.

itachi didn’t push him. he simply waited, as he always did. the silence stretched between them, heavy, expectant. finally, sasuke broke it, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“it’s... it’s like... no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i’m never enough. with you... with father... with anyone. i do everything right, and still, i'm always just... here. not seen. not noticed.”

itachi’s eyes softened, the weight of sasuke’s words sinking in. he knew his brother had always carried that burden, even if he’d never admitted it before. but hearing it now, from sasuke’s own lips, felt like the first real crack in the armour he’d built around himself.

"you’re not invisible, sasuke," itachi said quietly, his tone gentle. "not to me. not to anyone who matters."

"then why does it feel like it?" sasuke snapped, frustration creeping into his voice. "why do I feel like I’m just... shadowed by everything else? like I’m not seen for who I really am?"

itachi chuckled softly. "if you never show us, how would we know?"

sasuke’s chest tightened, his throat constricting as the weight of those words hit him. he wanted to push them away, to deny the truth of them, but somewhere deep down, he knew they were right.

"i don’t know how to..." sasuke trailed off, the words failing him.

itachi hummed, "for someone who has the loudest, most open-book friends, you're telling me you don't know how to be yourself?"

sasuke frowned.

itachi regarded sasuke with a knowing look, his eyes reflecting a wisdom that came with age and understanding. the silence between them stretched long, but it was a comfortable one, the kind that comes with knowing someone so well, understanding them without needing words.

"you know," itachi said softly, his tone carrying a quiet weight, "the uchiha are known for their intense love. the kind of love that doesn’t fade, no matter how much we try to suppress it."

"i don’t care about that," sasuke muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. but even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow, like a lie that had been repeated too many times.

"you can lie to yourself all you want, sasuke," itachi said, his gaze steady, "but no matter how much you try to distance yourself, everything you do, every action, every word... it comes from a place of love. even when you push people away, even when you tell yourself you don’t care, it’s still love. that uchiha blood runs deep in you."

sasuke swallowed, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. love. he had always seen it as a weakness, something that could be used against him. he had always thought that to love was to be vulnerable, to be exposed.

"i don’t know what to do with it," sasuke admitted, his voice barely audible.

itachi's gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "you don’t have to do anything with it, sasuke. you don’t have to control it. you just have to accept it."

he could see that sasuke was still not convinced.

"what do you think will happen if you let people in?"

sasuke opened his mouth to answer, as if he knew... only for nothing to come to his mind.

he couldn’t explain what he feared, couldn’t put into words the uncertainty that gnawed at him when he thought about letting anyone in. especially someone like her. someone who was so... present. someone who had already gotten under his skin, despite his best efforts.

"i don’t know," sasuke finally muttered, the frustration clear in his voice. "i don’t know what will happen. it just feels... dangerous."

"dangerous?" itachi asked, his tone still gentle, like he was trying to coax out the deeper truth.

sasuke clenched his fists, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "yeah," he snapped, "because when you let someone in, you risk everything. everything they could take from you. everything they could make you feel."

his voice broke for a split second, and he immediately turned his face away, trying to regain his composure.

itachi didn't look surprised. in fact, he seemed to expect that answer, his gaze softening as he leaned against the table. "isn't that what you did to her?"

sasuke froze, his eyes fixed on the note in front of him.

"she let you in, no conditions. and i'm guessing you two had a thing. so... you as good as used her, and tossed her away when you got scared."

"i... didn’t mean for it to happen like that," sasuke muttered, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew they didn’t hold any weight. he had used her, in his own twisted way. she had let him in, he had allowed himself to feel something, only to push it all away the moment it got too real, too complicated.

"you never mean for it," itachi replied softly, not unkindly, "but that's what fear does. it makes us hurt the people we care about."

"she didn’t run away, did she?" itachi’s voice cut through his thoughts again. "she faced you. and when you couldn’t handle it, she didn’t fight you. she just… walked away. quietly."

sasuke’s throat went dry at the thought of it. she walked away. no anger, no arguments, just... genuine detachment, something sasuke thought he was an expert at.

the distant fireworks brought them back to the present.

itachi stood up.

"forgive yourself, sasuke," he said, an echo of the exact words you'd said to sasuke.

two fingers gently poked sasuke's forehead, itachi's smile behind them. "happy new year."

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the new semester began as it always did; with a frat party.

sasuke sauntered from one quiet corner to the other at the party with a drink in hand, trying to ignore the buzzing energy around him. it was like every year, the same predictable cycle. the loud music, the flashing lights, the people in their tight clothes, their fake smiles. the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and smoke. and yet, none of it felt real. none of it ever reached him.

he knew how to blend in. to act like he was just another guy here, there to forget, there to drown whatever was lingering under his skin. so, he let the haze of alcohol kick in, the dull blur at the edges of his vision making it easier to pretend.

he didn’t care about the people dancing or the people flirting. they were all just distractions, just noise. what he cared about was silence. the quiet of his own mind, something that had been so elusive ever since... well, ever since everything. and he planned to avoid you as much as he could.

sakura and naruto were way ahead in the planning, running around, laughing, getting others involved. sasuke barely noticed them, his thoughts too far gone to focus on anything but the pull of the alcohol and the high that would hopefully wash away everything he didn’t want to deal with. he didn’t want to think about y/n, about the words itachi had said, about the guilt gnawing at him from the inside out.

he just wanted to forget.

joints after joints, all thanks to shikamaru, clouded sasuke's mind, creating a temporary safe space for his turbulent mind. the endless supply of booze kept him blended in like the chameleon he was. the bass-boosted music was perfect to silence his thoughts. if that wasn't enough, sasuke did lines, carded neatly off of discreet surfaces, the cocaine surging through his blood like lava.

sasuke stood back in the corner, his eyes glazed, a thousand miles away. the room around him was alive—flashing lights, people dancing, the bass reverberating through his chest—but none of it felt real. it was all a blur, like a low-budget film reel skipping frames. the colours bled into each other, red, blue, wild pink, spinning like a kaleidoscope, the world distorting with every pulse of the music.

his body was there, but it didn’t feel like his. his fingers tingled, his hands restless, but everything moved in slow motion. the beat of the song thudded in his chest like a heartbeat, almost too loud, but not loud enough to drown out the quiet hum in his head.

the lights above him flickered like strobe lights in a music video, and for a moment, he felt like he was falling through them, deeper into the darkness, out of reach. the bass dropped again, shaking the room, and everything spun with it, his head heavy, like he was floating in the middle of the night. everything blurred together, people’s faces, voices, the music—it was all just a buzz in the background.

his eyes closed for a split second, yet everything felt off. the momentary clarity left as quickly as it came.

"sasuke..."

"sasuke?"

he opened his eyes, a mop of red hair visible in his peripheral vision. he turned his head slowly, the intensity in his gaze almost chilling, like a predator who’d just locked onto its prey.

there was a weight in his stare, something dangerous, something cold enough to make the room feel a few degrees colder. it wasn’t a look of simple annoyance—it was like he was studying her, sizing her up with the kind of intensity that made people feel like they were being dissected. if eyes could be weapons, his would have cut her in half.

karin faltered, taken aback for a moment, but sasuke didn’t say a word. he just stared, his expression unreadable, his lips tight. the silence between them was thick with tension, and the intensity of his gaze spoke volumes—words weren’t necessary.

the two stumbled inside a dimly lit bathroom, in an attempt to make out. she was way shorter than him, so he had to lean forward to kiss her. he hated how dry it felt.

he pushed her against the wall, spinning her around so he wouldn't have to see her spectacled face. he ground himself against her ass, steadying himself. when he slid her panties off and when he undid his own trousers was a blur.

karin stood there, her back arched, face pressed against the cold bathroom tile. expecting a quick fuck from the campus hottie he was, at any moment. a moment too long later, she looked behind at sasuke.

his eyes were dead, hollow orbs, devoid of any trace of emotion. they stared straight down, unblinking, as if running on autopilot. there was no recognition, no sign of awareness.

his mouth was a flat line, void of any smile or frown—like a mask, as if his face had simply forgotten how to feel.

his skin seemed pale under the dim lights, the unnatural flush from the drugs not enough to mask the ghostly pallor of someone teetering on the edge of consciousness.

in the half-light, his face took on an almost haunting quality. there was a coldness in his expression, like he wasn’t fully here.

it wasn’t anger. it wasn’t hatred. it was something far worse: the feeling of being completely untethered, dangerously adrift.

"s-sasuke?" karin asked. upon hearing no response, she dressed herself again, not wanting to be near his venomous aura for even a second.

"some o-other time, haha!" she mumbled and ran out of the bathroom.

sasuke kept staring down. at his dick that refused to get hard.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘𓏵⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

[what a way to end the chapter lol. if u like the added effects, the song i had in mind when writing sasuke's coke trip, was 'manali trance' by neha kakkar, and yo yo honey singh. idk it's the perfect rave music to describe a trance like that]

#sasuke #uchiha #uchiha sasuke #itachi #mikoto #fugaku #naruto au #frat party #sasuke x y/n #sasuke x reader #y/n #Spotify

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aroceu · 8 months ago

Text

some thoughts on leaving a social media website...again

as of 10/16/2024, twitter has announced its intention to implement a new feature into the platform: instead of blocking allowing you to block certain accounts from viewing your profile if it's public, it now just... doesn't do that anymore. it only limits interaction. though this certainly isn't a surprise with musk's twitter rollouts since 2021—when i first saw people start to trickle out—this, in particular, breaks a lot of users boundaries and has prompted many to private their accounts and move to bluesky.

i'm in support of this, btw—the ceo of bsky is strongly opposed to ever running any sort of ads on the site ("won't enshittify the network with ads"), doesn't use any blockchain technology, and has a culture where supplying alt text on images is the norm. your main timeline is in reverse-chronological order (like intended), but there are other separate options to create a custom algorithmic feed for certain types of content, only if you wish to. though bsky is a work in progress, i have high hopes for what it can be in the future: that is, usable, practical, and more reminiscent of what it was like when twitter first started, than how twitter currently is.

but despite my love for bluesky, i won't spend too much time glazing yet another microblogging platform. instead, i'm here to ponder the concept of social media: why we have it, why we use it, and why these moves happen in the first place. people have been trickling in and out of twitter ever since the richest and evilest man in the world took possession of it; especially in a fandom sense, there's been a back and forth between twitter and tumblr due to tumblr's former porn ban, as well. we all have principles and morals that guide the decisions we make, including what websites we decide to use. they speak to a pattern of not only our culture as people at any given time—but how these platforms have the power to implement these changes whenever they want. and we, as individuals, must make decisions both based on those principles, but also our desires to fit in.

i'll start off by saying this—eventually i'm going to start talking about what social media means for creatives. but there is in fact an extremely well-written article about this already that goes into more detail. if you're more interested in that, let me direct you there first: R U AN ARTIST ON SOCIAL MEDIA??? by omoulo

with that out of the way, let's talk about me, shall we?

i got onto the internet through geocities—crazy sentence to say now after all these years. of course, i played neopets and flash games like many other kids, but that was mostly through knowing those websites and urls existed, and preserving them in my mind so i could return to them for some mindless minutes of entertainment later. geocities was my first introduction to the creative, user-designed web, so to speak. instead of being a number to interact with a thing that someone else has made—a flash game, a youtube video, a website where you can collect fictional pets—the idea of geocities to me at the time was this idea of participating on the internet. being a part of it. writing whatever i wanted and posting it. sharing the link with others. having others find it and read it too—a part of me, my method of creative self-expression, whatever i desired to write and post on the less than permanent internet.

my best friend at the time was the one who needled me into creating accounts—first an email address, then an AIM, then a myspace, then an IMVU, so on and so forth. i wasn't going out looking for these, and though i'd heard of them before or seen ads of some of these sites, i wasn't interested in actually being on these platforms and making these accounts until my friend told me that i should. call me a people pleaser or easily influenced or whatever; i was 12. but it was through this link sharing, this naivety and ignorance of the vastness of the internet, that allowed me to be fascinated with the world wide web in the first place.

i usually cite quizilla as my first "fandom" website, because it was—but it wasn't because i found it by accident. it wasn't that i googled it or looked for a personality test and stumbled upon it. no, it's because i was chatting with a friend on AIM, and she had found some crazy chain letter story and shared it to me for how absurd it was, and sent me the link. it was on quizilla.

literally the moment i clicked that link changed my life forever. even though i read the crazy story, i also clicked on the username of the person who posted it, out of curiosity. that person had jonas brothers fanfics on their quizilla profile, of all things, which led me into an obsession with the jonas brothers in the 2 years that followed. through that link—that account—that platform—i got a lot more interested in writing, webdesign, and what it meant to be on the internet, not just as a numbered participant, but also as someone with an imagination, who finds fulfillment in creative expression. i wrote the longest thing i'd ever written in that time (30k of a self-insert, but we won't go into that), began to experiment with css and website design, and participated, sharing stuff that i thought was interesting or fun, worth 5 minutes of anyone's time.

the internet wasn't just about being a place where my presence didn't matter anymore—it became a medium of self-expression. more than that, it became a place where i could meet and socialize with people, especially as i developed avpd in my high school years.

the internet wasn't always like this. right now, when we talk about the internet, we don't talk about the random websites we find, the links we stumble upon. (i have an entire website dedicated to those for me, though.) the games we spend hours playing, by ourselves, without interacting with others. random personality tests, or just simply the news. we talk about google, but in the same way we talk about facebook, or even twitter. it's a verb; it's omnipresent; it exists within the context of our internet culture, but becomes meaningless outside of it. it's not to say it doesn't have meaning—but that the language we use represents our relationship with it, this assumed normalcy. this assumed dependence.

i bring up my own history because as young as i feel compared to many of my older internet friends, and how late to the game i always felt—i was there. i was there on the internet before twitter (since 2009), tumblr (since 2010), facebook (i lied about my age), bluesky now, and whatever will come in the future. i was there when people were saying that the internet was still being written; when websites were made with tables (eugh); when email was the primary way to connect with others, because irc was for nerds and nothing else had been invented yet.

i'm a big advocate for not looking at the past with rose colored glasses and getting caught up in nostalgia and greener grass. i believe that technology is not inherently harmful or bad—it creates more options for accessibility, especially for those who are disabled. and even outside of that, it allows us to learn about more people, communicate with others with a few keystrokes, and form relationships that we otherwise would never get to have. i don't want this to seem like i'm saying "man remember how good the internet used to be?" because i'm not—i believe that as things change, there are benefits as much as there are hindrances.

of course, it bears saying that the primary hindrance—of current twitter, of many platforms over the years, and the internet with increasing recency—is corporations. big money interests. capitalism.

it's why we get so tired of ads—it's why ads exist in the first place. it's why these social media platforms that used to feel like they were made by the same people who would use them (livejournal, youtube, twitter) have suddenly become these soulless impersonal websites. it becomes more obvious that they want you to use them more because they sell you on exclusivity and visual minimalism, rather than because that's where your friends are, and you have this unique way to express yourself.

in fact, i'll say this: the first time i learned about facebook when i was too young to use it, i was not impressed. i had a myspace at the time that i had dolled up to make pretty with sparkly gifs and obnoxious colors and weird fonts. when i saw how boring and samey everyone's facebook profile page was, i was like, what's the point? sure i could talk to my classmates and random other people in my life that i didn't really care about, but what about making myself different from others? what about my creative expression? what about having an account that makes me look unique, instead of blending in with everyone else?

and so here i am nearly two decades later pondering about the use of social media, our individuality as well as our collective interests, and how the internet has changed so much, both in itself and how it affects us, in that time.

i'm here because i want to talk to my friends and meet new people with common interests and get excited about them. i don't want to feel left out, but that's a normal experience—outside of fomo, it is in our core to connect with others. it's the whole meaning of everything. it's why i even made an email in the first place, in my basement with my best friend, secretly setting up a yahoo account because she wanted another way to talk to me, and i wanted another way to talk to her. it's why people have been leaving twitter little by little for another site—the same site as many others, because that's where all their friends are. whether it's bsky or mastodon or misskey or just back here on tumblr, we're here not just because of our desire for community, but even as simple as our desire for a bond, a relationship with another human being. to me, that is how "social media" is defined—a medium through which we socialize because of this innate desire.

and yet, of course the enshittification and corporatification makes this more difficult for us, in ways more than one. because the fact is that as we (as people) became better at using the internet, finished writing it, and understood it—psychologically and sociologically—so did the corporations. or advertisers, you take your pick. we, the everypeople who use the internet as means to fulfill our social and other self-indulgent desires, are not the only people here. as with many things else in the world, the internet turned from an unpredictable but fun mess of us figuring shit out as we went along, into a product designed to keep us using it and engaging with it more, so some rich people can put even more money into their pockets. it's why twitter is the way it is now; even why tumblr is the way it is. why social media has become about "content creation" and "small businesses." why it feels like, every day, we see more ads and AI generated bullshit, as a little bit of the original soul of the internet gets sucked away day by day.

but even there, i don't want to come across as cynical or world-weary. though i believe this to be true, i don't think it says anything about our lack of agency, or our lack of innate humanity. instead, i believe that this means, at least on the individual level, that we should think more about not only what we're doing on the internet, but why we're doing it. how we're doing it. are we here because we're addicted? or is there something we're getting out of it? sure, many websites now have more addictive UI and algorithms that tell the receptors of our brain to return to them because we were getting so much dopamine from them earlier. but i also wouldn't necessarily argue that the only solution to this is to, then, go offline.

i have many friends who've elected to depart social media but stay online—friends who i met through website building, to be fair, but that's one of my main points. i already wrote a manifesto on my love letter to the personal website; but the tl;dr is this:

the internet is not evil, it is not good, it is just a form. if we desire to express ourselves and socialize with others in this space, it does not have to be just about social media, and creating a new account on a new website every time people move. instead, we have personhood—we have individuality, we have agency. we have the ability to build our own websites, no matter how shitty or times new roman comic sansy or color clashy or sometimes inaccessible they can be. regardless of all these seeming impractical setbacks though, it does not absolve us of that ability to do whatever we want on the internet. and it also bears saying that websites, both the personal and impersonal, can change over time, for better or worse.

i am a huge proponent for people making their own personal websites. it makes me so so happy that neocities is gaining popularity, mostly because i love seeing people try their own hand at making a website for themselves, a new form of self-expression. i won't go into too much detail on this because i've already said everything i want to say about it (see above), but if you take away anything from this post, let it be this: consider making a personal website, a corner of the internet, for yourself, by yourself. not just because you want people to engage with it, or because you want to curate to an algorithm or an artistic/fannish trend. not because you want the things you make to gain traction, to get bigger numbers without considering the people behind those numbers, as soon as possible.

do it because you want to. because you have to. because you think it's cool, and because it's you. people may find it and judge it; but they may like it as well. the more unique and authentic and weird we are with each other, the more we are able to appreciate each other for who we really are. the internet is one of many places we can do this.

i don't really see these forms of self-expression separate from social media, but i do see social media separate from it. to me, social media is a vehicle to strengthen those connections, those relationships, much like DMs and IRCs; but it is not the be-all, end all of the internet. it's only a small part of it. not everything is permanent on the internet; but everything that ever has been online is a microcosm of the human experience, whether it's an old cloudflare site or twitter dot com in 2010.

our experiences on the internet are not about corporate interests. it's about using limewire to download pirate music, sharing random links we find, building a design that may not be practical or universally appealing but still represents a form of individuality. when i think of how the internet has grown, i don't think about what it means for companies or advertisers or what meetings must go on to get people like me to keep using it—i think about remembering the difference between addicting games dot com and addicted games dot com, clicking links on websites to find even more websites, sitting at the family computer and deciding if i wanted to spend hours on neopets or that one willy wonka flash game i grinded like several hours on one night when i was 7. i think about what it's always meant to me, because the internet was not always a centralized place where i was going on the same website every day. the rise of internet centralization to the point that it's become expected, the norm, the primary way any of us to be online, is not inherently a bad thing—but i wouldn't say it's a universal good, either, when the internet is a wide and vast space, and can be so much more than that.

because the one thing that remains throughout the years is our agency and choice. we still have the ability to make the internet what we want it to be, or at least a corner of it, something separate from the corporations, the enshittification, economically researched user interfaces and experiences, the advertisements, the "like and share so the algorithm boosts me more." there's still a point to it all without the money, and without twitter. and it's both our desire for creativity and self-expression, as well as our intrinsic bonds with each other. despite it all, it's about our humanity.

as the internet continues to grow, so do we. nevertheless, the importance of our humanity, and retaining it, will remain. oftentimes it is up to us to remind ourselves of that.

links here, for access:

Bluesky CEO Jay Graber Says She Won’t ‘Enshittify the Network With Ads’

R U AN ARTIST ON SOCIAL MEDIA??? by omoulo

links @ kingdra.net (my links, like bookmarks)

A manifesto of sorts; or, my love letter to the personal website by me

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