#Essence Music Festival | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kykyonthemoon · 3 months ago

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One Summer Day

A road trip, a summer festival, childhood popsicles and Zayne. You have captured the essence of summer in your hands.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader (MC)

── .✦ Tags: R16 - MNDI, suggestive themes, summer, vacation, festival, use of Japanese culture and words, fluff, sweet, established relationship.

── .✦ Word count: 2k6

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This piece is inspired by Zayne’s text (Top Prize) after completing his story in Adventure above the Clouds event.

Misty Invasion Fan Art Contest Entry - Please support me on X!

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

You stood under your porch with all enthusiasm, feet tiptoeing up and down, eyes fixed on the impending cars. When you recognized Zayne's familiar transport, the smile on your lips immediately spread like flower petals.

“Why are you out here? Didn't we agree to meet inside first?" Zayne inquired as he assisted you in loading the luggage into the back of the car.

"I saved Doctor Zayne the trouble." You responded. That was only half of the truth; the rest was because you were so eager to begin this journey that you rolled about in bed all night thinking about it. This morning, you awoke before the alarm went off. Because your luggage was little, you went downstairs to wait. That way, neither of you would have to waste any more time and could depart right away.

Zayne grinned as if he understood what you were saying and opened the car door to invite you in. Then he sat in the driver seat. The first song on your pre-selected list began to play, and with all your impatience, the three-hour long journey to the predetermined destination began.

Not long after the vehicle drove away, Zayne noticed a rustling close to him. You were opening the package for a snack you had recently enjoyed. Zayne laughed as his car came to a stop at a red light. He turned to face you and said:

“We've only been gone for five minutes and you're already hungry?”

You took a piece of snack and fed it to Zayne, replying:

“For you.”

He obediently took a mouthful while still staring at you, who was beaming with your snack bag. A few curls of hair had fallen on your cheeks, and he tucked them behind your ear. Zayne used the chance to gently stroke your face.

"Someone was so happy that she was unable to rest last night, right?"

You hastily checked the rearview mirror of the car. Aside from appearing too eager, a closer look would expose the weariness from lack of sleep around your eyes.

"Are you sure that person isn't Doctor Zayne?" You commented. Even though he had caught you red-handed, you would continue to deny it.

"Then there were two people who could not sleep last night." You were not prepared for Zayne to admit it so soon. You spotted his brilliant smile just as the green light went on and he shifted his concentration to the road ahead.

Zayne stated that if you were weary, you could take a nap in the car and he would wake you up at the destination. Nonetheless, you were determined to remain awake the whole journey. Every time the car came to a halt at a red light, you swiftly fed him some snacks. Zayne, in return, clasped his hands around yours. You would occasionally hum along to the music being played and see that Zayne was enjoying it. Was it the song or your voice? His fingers on the steering wheel moved gently with the rhythm, as did his head and neck, as if he were swaying to the melodies. But every time he recognized you gazing and was about to say something to tease him, Zayne claimed to be in the dark and made an insignificant remark: "Your taste in music is acceptable."

You burst into laughter. When you were together, he must have heard those songs so many times that he knew them by heart. Zayne frequently took you on outings, but this one was different. He won a lottery at Akso Hospital, resulting in a two-day, three-night vacation for a couple. Although you guessed that everyone had given Doctor Zayne the jackpot after seeing how hard he worked day and night, you were nonetheless overjoyed to be able to accompany him like this.

Zayne was the one to plan everything ahead, always had been. However, you were constantly thinking about all that may happen, while you were both thrilled and anxious. This vacation marked a significant step forward in your relationship; how could you not pay attention to every little thing? You wanted all to be perfect so Zayne could enjoy an unforgettable getaway.

But such things might have to wait a little longer. Your eyes began to close around halfway through and after you had consumed all of the treats. You had a strange feeling Zayne was adjusting the seat to make you more comfortable. He softly touched your palm, saying something like, "Yet someone insisted that she wasn't sleepy..." Then you fell into a deep slumber.

After a series of short, strange dreams, including one where Doctor Zayne transformed into a big cat, you were awakened by a cold touch on your cheek.

“We're here.” Zayne's voice rang out, and all of your weariness vanished as you saw the small, lovely village stretch out in front of you, embracing the foot of the mountain. You hastily exited the car. The fresh wind carried the welcome aroma of grass and trees, making you feel delighted.

It was already past midday when you arrived at the resort. After a light meal, Zayne and you checked in. It was a modest room only enough for a couple with complete facilities, including a tatami-covered floor and a sleeping mattress for two people, known as a futon. The room was simply designed, yet it felt airy and close to nature. Zayne claimed that his prize included the most adorable suite at the resort, which was not an exaggeration at all. Large wooden and matte paper doors opened into the serene alpine view that surrounded the room. Outside was a steaming onsen, and the afternoon sunshine falling on the bottom shimmered like precious gemstones, so it was inevitable that it would be the first thing to attract your attention when you arrived. There was nothing better than being able to soak it up at night and gaze at the stars.

However, you briefly resisted the impulse to soak in it right away because when you opened the wardrobe, you discovered two folded yukata sets waiting for you and Zayne. It was no surprise since you overheard him discussing your clothing size with the resort personnel prior to your arrival. You turned your head back to peer at Zayne, who was averting his gaze, but his brilliant expression indicated that he had planned all of this for you.

The yukata he had chosen for you was light blue, embellished with white jasmine pattern. You enthusiastically tried it on yourself. But even with a handbook in the room explaining how to wear it, you struggled and failed to put it correctly. You sighed and requested assistance from Zayne on the opposite side of the folding screen which divided the dressing space in two.

“Doctor Zayne… I must have done something wrong…”

“Wait for me.”

His voice sounded out. A second later, he emerged from the opposite side of the screen. Zayne put on a yukata that was a much darker shade of blue than yours, dotted with a silver swallow pattern. As soon as you saw him, so perfect in the kind of outfit he had tried for the first time, you lost your breath. It was not until Zayne came closer to fix your dress that you recovered your composure.

“You've put on the wrong layers.” He said gently. “Let me fix it.”

Thus you stood motionless, arms wide out so Zayne could effortlessly alter your attire. Layer upon layer, one by one. It was not surprising to you that he was so skilled, given that this was your first time wearing a yukata together. Because, for you, Doctor Zayne's hands were a divine tool capable of assisting you in all you lacked. After your outfit was complete, the same hands assisted you in combing your hair and placing a jasmine flower on your head.

“How do I look? Has Doctor Zayne overdone it a bit?”

You inquired while glancing in the mirror. Behind you, he grinned pleasantly. “Not at all.”

You carefully brushed the fabric jasmine blossom Zayne had just placed in your hair. True, he had put a lot of thought into this trip. You turned around to look at him, mumbling a "Thank you" before rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek.

When the two of you arrived at the street, the sky was already tinted with dusk. You softly held Zayne's hand and moved in modest steps. You were not entirely comfortable with the geta that went with your attire. He wore a pair similar to yours, yet you were the only one who struggled.

The festival in this little community grew busier at night. Laughter breathed life into the desolate mountains and hills. The street was illuminated by lanterns, and both sides of the sidewalk were lined with vendors offering crafts, traditional games, and foods with inviting fragrances. As a result, after every few steps, you drew Zayne into a food stall to try it out.

You ate so many dishes that your tummy was full, leaving no room for supper at the resort. However, when you arrived at an old popsicle stall, you pleaded that Zayne try it with you.

"This is just like when we were kids, right?" You gladly accepted the popsicle from Zayne's hand. He sat next to you on a bench along the woodland edge, away from the festival noise. The aromatic popsicle looked quite good. You took a large bite and felt numb to the brain.

"Ugh…" You shouted. Zayne instantly reached out to rub your head and temples. He softly said:

"For what reason are you so hasty when there's a popsicle? Are you still a three-year-old?"

You pouted, stared at him and snorted loudly. Zayne softly squeezed your face and added:

“Slow down. With me here, you don't have to worry about your popsicle melting."

"Sure." You nodded. Your gaze fell on the mint-flavored popsicle in Zayne's fingers. Then, as fast as lightning, you leaned down and took a mouthful.

"You—" Zayne protested, but it was a bit too late. You giggled as your head became dizzy from a fresh brain freeze.

He grumbled and proceeded to rub your head. After consuming the popsicle, you stated:

“That's my revenge on you for pinching my cheek! How dare you?”

Zayne clicked his tongue and shook his head playfully. "It seems that no matter how old you get, the way you eat popsicles still remains.”

After that, he placed his thumb in the corner of your lips, softly wiped away the smeared cream, then lingered there forever. His gaze was unable to depart your slightly opened ruby lips. Zayne leaned down to taste the popsicle flavor that persisted on the tip of your tongue.

“Hmm… This flavor combined with mint… It isn't bad at all…”

After the festival, you chose to wrap up the day in comfort by soaking in the onsen outside your bedroom. You removed your yukata and wrapped a towel over your body before stepping out into the warm night, which was filled with luminous stars above. Zayne was already soaking in the hot spring, the moonlight casting luscious honey dews on his bare back as he turned toward the chamber. You approached delicately and sat down to soak your feet in the warm water first.

Zayne turned back to gaze at you. Iridescent drops poured from his hair and flowed down his dominant chest; every muscle fiber that was usually hidden underneath discreet layers of clothing was now displayed before your eyes, even the scars running along his arms. Suddenly, you realized that the water in the onsen was hotter than intended.

“How are your feet?” Zayne questioned as he approached you. The water solely reached his waist, where he was covered in a towel. You replied:

“I feel better now. Those geta are probably not for me.”

The sensation of Zayne's hand on your submerged feet startled you. He took your slightly red foot and gently rubbed it while keeping it under the water. He repeated the same thing with your other foot.

“By doing this, you will feel more comfortable,” said Zayne. You nodded firmly, eyes still fixed on his body. While he was massaging your feet, you kicked the water around, causing him extra soaked. Nonetheless, he simply wiped any water from his face and glanced at you in a patient manner, shaking his head slightly.

You giggled and continued to swing your leg harder. This time, he gently squeezed your ankle and said:

“Just now, someone complained about her feet hurting and insisted on being carried back here. Is she fully recovered by now? If that's the case, she doesn't need my care anymore."

His hands eased on you, yet you quickly wrapped your legs around Zayne's waist and pressed him closer. The bottom of the onsen seemed slippery, causing him to suddenly slide forward. He placed his hands on the ground so he would not tumble on you. His hot breath invaded your left ear. His body emitted a faint aroma of warm wood. Before your eyes, the water-soaked crook of his neck was revealed. Your nose gently rubbed against it.

“Who said she doesn't need your special care anymore?”

You nuzzled him, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. Zayne's breathing became heavier. He maintained his balance, although it was difficult to remove himself from you while you were this close to him. The sweet fruity scent emanating from you was which he had become accustomed to these past few days.

“You're using that lotion again…” Every syllable that escaped his mouth was like fire pouring into your ears. You said quietly:

“Since you seem to appreciate it so much, I…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Zayne seized your waist and lifted you off the onsen edge. You could only lean your body absolutely into his chest, legs clamped securely around his waist to keep from falling, despite the fact that he held you extremely firm in place. Zayne pushed his face against your neck, hungrily devouring the sweet scent flowing from there. His lips pressed lengthy, scorching kisses against your neck, shoulders, and chest.

"Z-Zayne…" You tenderly called his name. Your hand on his neck softly pushed him away. The thin smoke from the onsen veiled your vision, rendering everything as surreal as a dream. In the lake's heat and humidity, drops of perspiration and water ran from Zayne's temples to the back of his neck and torso. But no matter how much you resisted, he would not let go of you.

You lightly nipped his red ear. Only then did Zayne shift away from you, his expression showing astonishment mixed with a little hurt. Had he just done something that made you unsettling?

"Let me down first…" You murmured. Zayne held you with one arm, with the other hand softly drawing circles on the area of your back which was exposed from the towel. He tilted his head and whispered into your ear:

"This is also part of my special care. Are you certain you don't want it?"

His radiant eyes fixed on you, anticipating. You pursed your lips hard before deliberately pressing yourself closer to his body.

“Of course… I want it…”

The corner of Zayne's mouth curled up slightly. He walked to a deeper part of the onsen, allowing both of you to plunge into the water, which became hotter with each touch. He kissed you. It began gently, like calm water; but over time it grew more intense, as if he was slowly melting with you. You always possessed the ability of exposing his deepest emotions and desires. Only you.

For, if he could control it, then it was certainly not love.

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witchboxco · 10 months ago

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Imbolc Altar Ideas & Correspondences

Imbolc, also known as Candlemas or Brigid's Day, marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It's a time to celebrate the returning light and the awakening of the Earth.

Altar Decorations:

Candles: Imbolc is strongly associated with the element of fire. Decorate your altar with candles in shades of white, yellow, and light blue to represent the increasing daylight.

Brigid's Cross: Craft or purchase a Brigid's Cross, a traditional symbol associated with the Celtic goddess Brigid. Hang it on your altar as a protective charm.

Seasonal Flowers: Place early spring flowers like snowdrops, crocuses, and daffodils on your altar. These symbolize the first signs of life returning to the land.

Herbs: Incorporate herbs such as rosemary, thyme, and cinnamon for their purifying and invigorating properties. Bundle them together with a red or white ribbon.

Seeds: Represent the potential for growth by adding a dish of seeds to your altar. Consider seeds associated with early spring crops like wheat or herbs.

Imbolc Symbols: Include symbols like lambs, ewes, and the sun to capture the essence of this seasonal transition.

Candle Holders: Choose unique candle holders or lanterns to enhance the ambiance. Consider using candle holders in the shape of suns, stars, or nature-inspired designs.

Divination Tools: Add divination tools like tarot cards or runes to your altar for seeking guidance during this transitional period.

Symbolic Stones: Integrate crystals such as citrine for abundance, aquamarine for clarity, and moonstone for intuition. Arrange them aesthetically around your altar.

Feathers: Symbolizing air and spirituality, feathers can be incorporated to invoke the energy of the season. Choose feathers from birds associated with the goddess Brigid, like swans or owls.

Artwork: Display artwork or illustrations that resonate with the themes of Imbolc. This could include depictions of Brigid, snow-covered landscapes, or symbols of growth and renewal.

Imbolc Incense: Craft or purchase incense blends with scents like frankincense, myrrh, and chamomile to fill your sacred space with a soothing and purifying aroma.

Correspondences

Goddess Brigid: Imbolc is sacred to Brigid, the Celtic goddess of hearth, home, and inspiration. Invoke her energy for healing, creativity, and protection.

Colors: White, yellow, light green, and light blue are associated with Imbolc. Use these colors in candles, altar cloths, and decorations to align with the festival's energy.

Stones: Crystals such as amethyst, garnet, and clear quartz resonate with Imbolc's energies.

Foods: Dairy products, especially cheese, and foods made with seeds like bread or muffins are fitting for Imbolc. Set offerings on your altar or incorporate them into your celebration feast.

Water: Imbolc is also associated with the element of water. Include a small bowl of water on your altar to symbolize purification.

Creativity Symbols: Imbolc is a time for inspiration and creative endeavors. Include symbols of your creative pursuits, such as a paintbrush, musical instrument, or writing quill.

Anointing Oils: Create or purchase anointing oils infused with herbs like lavender, rosemary, and frankincense. Use them to anoint candles, tools, or yourself during Imbolc rituals.

Animal Representations: Incorporate figurines or images of animals associated with Brigid, such as lambs, cows, or swans, to honor her connection to the animal kingdom.

Wheat or Corn Dolls: Craft small dolls from wheat or corn husks, symbolizing the harvest to come. Place them on your altar as a representation of the Earth's fertility.

Bell or Chimes: Hang a bell or wind chimes near your altar to symbolize the awakening of nature and the stirring of life. Ring it during your Imbolc rituals to mark significant moments.

Decorative Cloth: Choose an altar cloth with intricate patterns or symbols related to Imbolc, such as suns, wheels, or Brigid's crosses, to add a touch of magic to your sacred space.

May you find warmth in the returning light. <3

#pagan #witchcraft #paganism #witch #occult #wicca #dark #magick #neopagan #wiccan #imbolc #february #witchblr #imbolg #brigid of kildare #goddess brigid #st brigid

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jewish-sideblog · 10 months ago

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I know for a fact that people are responding with orientalism, fetishization, and fandomization of the Israel / Palestine conflict. Because there is no way in hell that the American left would have responded the same way to October 7 happening in America.

Imagine if 364 people had been killed by AK assault rifles in a mass shooting at a music festival in America. I think the response from the American left would be much different. There would been have been universal condemnation and a push to dismantle and disarm the known hate group that planned and executed the shooting. There would have been common sense reforms planned to prevent the exact same thing from happening again.

But the mass shooting killed 364 Israelis, not 364 Americans. It was accompanied by 5000 rockets aimed at civilian targets, 775 other fatal shootings, and 247 instances of human trafficking across international borders. Torture. Mutilation. Sexual violence. Infants shot multiple times.

Somehow, that means the response from the American left has fully reversed. Many of them have, in essence, said that “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” They used the opportunity to glorify terrorists who mass-murdered civilians with the intent to commit genocide. Isn’t that what the American alt-right normally does in response to violence?

The necessary disclaimer here is that none of this should serve to justify the actions of the Israeli government. A military force that is typically known for having historically low rates of civilian death now has historically high rates— there is no excuse for that. The amount of sheer Israeli incompetence that allowed the attack to happen in the first place, and led such a disproportionate response, is nothing but a complete humanitarian failure of the Likud administration.

But I remember distinctly how many Americans glorified Hamas and called for the destruction of Jews in Israel on October 7th. During the terrorist attack. Before Israel’s military response. Clearly, no military response of any kind could have been justified by the people who usually beg for violent hate groups to get disarmed.

This is a kind of conflict many of them will never have to actually reconcile with, because the while the average American can access an automatic rifle, they can’t access a rocket launcher. Lacking insight into geopolitical history, the realities of warfare, and any actual ties to the real people being killed, they turned their slacktivism into a show. Hamas are Good Guys and Zionists are Bad Guys. And as long as it’s happening several thousand miles away, a Good Guy with a Gun becomes a perfect fantasy.

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dropsnectar · 2 months ago

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Bee-men Stuff

Hi Everyone! So I've been getting alot of attention for the bee content I was making! I just want to thank you all for reading! However, it looks like my fanfic might have made the original author uncomfortable, so I was thinking of just making my own universe for bee monsters and other things! If I'm honest, i’m more into world building, and fluffy stuff anyway. So, if I do write anymore stuff, just assume its this new universe! Here are some thoughts I've been having!

Bees have long had spiritual associations with life and even being messengers to the gods. Because of this, you will find that most Bee-man have a grasp on certain magics, especially when it comes to making honey. This universe is set in a world where monsters are the norm, and often live in colonies in forests or their natural habitats. Humans can be found anywhere as we are a pretty sturdy species and there is often mingling of the species. While there are mostly human cities, there are some that are filled with monsters or other humanoidish creatures.

Bee-men are pretty rare, as insect monsters usually have to be imbued with sturdy magics to survive out in the wild and upkeep their large physical forms. Its how they are able to fly and be light, while also having some strength!

Bee-men are kind of seen as an endangered species by other beings, due to their rare essence, so there is rarely an overlap of territory between monsters. This also has to do with their honey making skills.

Bee-men are very good at making honey, and do so in a similar way to normal bees. Their territory is often filled with huge flowers, often magical ones that like to travel about. This is how they evolved some of their magics. Their song, difficult to hear for most humans, has been known to calm the rogue nomadic flower into compliance.

Bee-men are also known to keep normal bees! They often mix their own honey with theirs to form certain concoctions, or just food variety for daily life. Bee-men love sweet things, though cane sugar itself has been known to give them indigestion. Give your local Bee-man jams, or fruit tarts and he will be so happy!

Honey has also been associated with mead, an alcoholic wine made from honey. Irl bees are very stern about drunk bees entering the hives, and contaminating their own honeystores. They've even been known to tear limbs off! But Bee-men have a sort of complicated history with alcohol. In old times, when Bee-men didn't have to worry about their numbers, their would be long, three day festivals, usually on the Queens birthday, where all bees of every class would take shifts working or partying it up on their special mead with their Queen. Their meads natural magical properties also help the drinkers with better speech(Think Kvasir of norse mythology), where Bee-men would take turns telling their Queen and the crowd stories, or share in musical song. There have been times in the past where other beings have broken into the hive to procure this magical mead, in hopes of hitting it rich. For this reason, many hives don't make much mead anymore.

Much like normal bees, Queens are usually made within the hive by feeding an egg Royal Jelly. However, the hive that I will be focusing on has had issues being able to secrete Royal Jelly, as they have been so long without a proper Queen.

The hive has been able to survive due to surviving off of human product, since honeystores have been low lately, but this has weakened the hive considerably.

Hives are able to take a human queen only if they have the proper pheromone type to interact with the hive. Bees communicate through pheromones, which is why Bees are often covered in a lovely lemony scent. Thats there pheromones and them talking to each other!

Bee-men in the hive are constantly aware of each others emotions, and it is not uncommon for them to be able to use their magic to sooth each other. Their pheromones can make eachother(and humans!) Very calm and relaxed(Or excited… we will get to that later:)). If a Bee-man is around a human long enough that he is acquainted with most of the behavior of your pheromones, he can somewhat talk with you telepathically! Although the most this can do is share emotions, and occasionally images. This isn't very efficient, so many bee-men have learned how to speak human language.

Bee-men actually have a really interesting origin! Like how I mentioned before about Bees being messengers of the Gods, their was one who loved bees so much he fell in love with one. He gave it human form and their children became Bee-men, hence their innate magical abilities and somewhat humanoid appearance.

Bee appearances can vary alot! A bees appearance can often effect their skill, and a lot of worker bees or drones share similar features. They have human like faces and are covered in fuzz! Some have several sets of arms, and all have long wings. They can get mistaken for fae sometimes, but the yellow and black fuzz gives it away. Also, their skin has varying textures per where you touch them, some parts are hardened, while things like their inner arms and palms feel more like skin.

Bee-men tend to stay together but there are times that bee-men will leave the hive willingly, or be exiled. In this case it is very important they find a mate or family unit. Much like bunnies, they die easily of broken hearts, and need to have their daily cuddle sessions! They also need to share their pheromones, so it is more often that they create mate bonds with humans. This can be difficult for our little bees, because very few humans are compatible with their type of magic. Its even harder to find a human who is compatible to be a queen.

Thats it for now! I might make a post about their hierarchy and some more stuff. Anywho, if you want more bee media(more smut focused), go ahead and check out @bunnis-monsters ! Also, again I am creating a wider universe of monster and magic stuff through here so if you have any questions, i'm open to it!

#bee monster #bee monsters #bee hybrid #bee-men #monsters #monster fucker #monster lover #monster lovers #terat0philliac #teratophillia

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freyito · 6 months ago

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ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʀ ᴡᴏʟꜰ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: me and mr wolf by the real tuesday weld

★ summary: The Family is hosting a ball as more promotion for the Charmony Festival. At this ball, a certain Bloodhound Family member takes interest in you...

✧ a/n: pspsps did you know requests are open <3? (also totally not setting up a part 2 not at allll (guy who set up the most obvious intro to part 2))

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, anxious reader, mild penacony spoilers, just fluff-ish, he's a little eerie, proofread

✎ wc: 2.5k

The scene before you is incredibly lavish, light, and dreamy. It speaks of The Family’s power and bank, how quickly they are able to set up such a beautiful sight within the Dreamscape. It’s like a fantasy, something you’d only see in, well, dreams. Patrons from all sorts of colorful backgrounds flood the floor, some of them you believe you recognize. The chatter around you drowns out what would be ethereal music, guests piling in from two wide double doors. You look to your right, and you see Sunday, the head of the Oak Family all the way at the end of the venue, hands behind his back and observing the revelry. On the other side of the venue, you see Oti Alfalfa– which is very questionable in its own right. Perhaps the Alfalfa family paid for the venue, or… something. You couldn’t really make sense of it. With how crowded it was, you didn’t want to make sense of it.

With your head down, you make your way through the crowd, doing your best to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. After all, this was the first time you’ve seen anyone dressed up so fancy. And, some passing glances at you tell you that, for once, these people care about what they’re wearing in the Dreamscape. You avoid their gazes, making a beeline to the drinks. Or so you hope– this is a formal ball, after all. Would they really have a drink table like it’s some highschool prom? You get your answer when you reach the end of the hall, and there’s no table in sight. A pity, really. However, you do spot waiters walking around with platters of SoulGlad. It isn’t the best choice, but it’ll wet your throat.

Grabbing one of the delicate glasses after flagging a waiter down, you hunker down in a less populated corner. You watch as the tempo takes hold, dancers falling into line. You grow increasingly conscious that you are here alone, no partner to dance with. Not like you wanted to, right? Throwing yourself into a ball with no partner, not even a friend, it feels… embarrassing. And suddenly, you’re aware of why people's eyes have been on you. You lower your head once more, staring down into the glass of SoulGlad, furrowing your brows. You swirl the glass, watching as it fizzes and dies down, as the music around you dies down. What a shame, really… You had no idea what you were doing here, perhaps you just wanted to join in on the revelry? Enjoying yourself seems like a distant reality, despite that being the essence of the Dreamscape.

Reluctantly, you take a swig of the drink, letting it cool your throat. With a huff, you look back into the near empty glass, practically forgetting to even taste the drink. Whether you’re spurred on by self-hatred or a genuine interest, you make your way to the floor. Catching another waiter as you do so, you hand them to empty glass. It feels weird, being in such a posh environment. Yet, before you can reach the floor, a hand grabs your wrist. It sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly your new-found confidence is shot. You turn around to reprimand whoever grabbed you, but you’re met with a Bloodhound Guard.

He looks at you with a stoic face, raising his eyebrow slightly when you shoot him a judgmental look. Just because he’s part of the Bloodhound Family doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to grab you so suddenly. And it seems he’s caught onto that, because he lets go of your arm.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” He starts, his tone cool and even, his voice slightly gravelly and deep. Yet, it doesn’t sound like he’s actually sorry, there is no apology in his tone. “You’re, uh, you’re kinda makin’ a warpath, here.”

You raise your eyebrow, and you have no idea how to respond. The words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is look around. You’re on the edge of the floor, and the dancing hasn’t ceased. Everyone’s eyes are on each other, thank the Aeons.

At your baffled look, he relaxes and chuckles softly. “Sorry, just had to make sure you weren’t… going to cause trouble.”

A light blush dusts your cheeks, and you find yourself feeling embarrassed again. Only then do you take in the man’s disheveled appearance. Some stubble, hair left undone for such a fancy event, and a suit that was put together all too quickly, wrinkled and perhaps a little stained. His hazel eyes bore into yours, as if searching you for something, though he’s already established that you are no threat. Something about him, however, feels familiar. You swear, his name is on the tip of your tongue, you’ve seen this man… somewhere before.

“Apologies, didn’t mean to ruin your night…” He trails off, eyes tearing away to look you up and down. When his eyes meet yours once more, he extends a calloused hand towards you. His gaze softens and he smiles with a huff. “Care for a dance?”

“Ah…” Is the only thing you manage to choke out. You’re taken aback by the sudden invitation, slightly unnerved. It’s not that he himself is nerve wracking, but it’s the way he’s gone from gruff to gentlemanly. “Sure.”

Your response is dry, but you put your hand in his. Wordlessly, he leads you into the center of the floor, falling in step with all the dance partners around you. Despite his messy appearance, he dances elegantly. He matches the flow of the room easily, swaying, each step smooth. Now that you’re up close and personal, you take in the faint smell of tobacco and some generic cologne, and an undertone of something metallic. You do your best to forget about it, allowing yourself to get whisked away by the melody surrounding you two.

“Gallagher, by the way.” The man starts once more, answering the question, or lack thereof, you had asked yourself.

“What brings a Bloodhound to a, uh, ball?” You ask, attempting to strike up conversation. It only hits you now that you are dancing with a stranger, so closely and almost… intimately. Another feeling of unease crawls down your spine, and you can’t understand why.

Gallagher chuckles at your question, as if it’s preposterous to think that the Bloodhound Family do more than just act tough. “We’re allowed a little fun every once in a while,” He shrugs, pulling you ever so slightly closer. “It’s not a crime, right?”

The proximity makes you blush, acutely aware of just how rough and calloused his hands feel, your palms start to get sweaty. You do your best to ignore it, after all, this is a man you just met. “No, no, not at all…” You try to act and sound confident, ignoring the pit in your stomach. “Just… I didn’t expect it, that's all.”

Silence stretches between you two as you spin around the floor, like cogs in a machine. It only strikes you now how… mundane this event truly is. Sure, it is grand and lights up the night, but is there really a purpose? The unease and anxiety settles in your bones, and your pace falters, suddenly no longer able to follow Gallagher’s steps. He notices this, and slows down. But when you meet his eyes, his gaze isn’t concerned. He can see you piecing things together, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice lowers, barely above the music that surrounds you two. It carries the tone of a challenge, but you don’t want to respond. Your throat is dry once more, and you keep your gaze away from him. He squeezes your hands and traps you within the waltz, every step caging you in.

“Just… nervous, sorry,” You deflect, trying to ignore the creeping unease that seeps into your veins. Perhaps this is all in your head, and you’re just letting the embarrassment, the anxiety, and the nerves get to your head. It’s not a far-off assumption, since you’ve stepped foot in the hall you’ve wanted nothing more than to run out. To wake up from the dream. “My bad.”

Gallagher lets up, loosening his grip on your hand and puts a little space between you two as you fall back into pace with the other dancers. His expression eases into something softer, something that doesn’t necessarily fit a man of his stature.

“You’re more than welcome to take a break,” He doesn’t apologize, brushing off the scene from the moment before. Yet, despite this invitation, he continues to dance, his own pace does not waver. “I won’t mind.”

You feel nauseous, yes, but when was the last time you’ve danced? When was the last time you’ve felt this elegant? You swallow your anxiety and shake your head, allowing yourself to really enjoy this waltz. “It’s okay.”

Gallagher responds with a ‘hm’ and a nod, no words spoken. Finally, you watch your steps. He’s already set himself as the lead, and you had no qualms being the follow. You step backward. Pause. Then you step to the side. Pause. Then you bring your feet together. You continue this pattern, finally hearing the music above the tapping around you. It’s almost comforting in a way, being able to follow something that feels… luxurious. And Gallagher seems to be enjoying himself, as well. He isn’t pulling you closer, his hands hold you loosely, as if he’s suddenly afraid of scaring you. As if he hadn’t.

Slowly, you relax. The beat lulls you into a sense of calm, spinning around the floor as if it came naturally. You are no longer hyper aware of everyone else, feeling as if it’s just you and Gallagher. His heady scent feels the air between you two, the metallic tang you smelled earlier becoming a lot more potent. You do your best to ignore it, the music picking up intensity. He drops your right arm, raising his left hand up, and spinning you. It’s a light and airy feeling, something akin to a warm spring day. All worries wash away so easily under such a simple act.

A man you’ve barely known, that you’re sure you’ve seen a handful of times in Golden Hour and Blue Hour, treating you so delicately despite his gruff exterior. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion that follows such a nerve wracking experience, you can’t tell. For now, it doesn’t matter. You are enjoying yourself, dancing with a Bloodhound or not.

Just as the waltz feels like it’s reaching an end, Gallagher dips you down, his hand placed firmly against the small of your back. His eyes meet yours once more, a sly grin spreading across his face, giving you a proper view of his sharp canine teeth. It isn’t as strange as before, something you feel like you’ve grown used to in just a mere four minutes. But, in that moment, you realize the rough skin of his knuckles isn’t just from his hard line of work, but rather bruised skin. You run your thumb over his knuckles, and he only furrows his eyebrows.

At this, he brings you back up, and you two resume the steady waltz. Now, you want to ask him about it. You steal another glance at his hand, trying to see if you were right, but the dim lights within the ballroom black you from doing so. You can’t get hurt in the Dreamscape, you’re sure of it. So, it must’ve been somewhere in reality…

“Some hooligan was stirring up trouble, wouldn’t leave their room. Had to drag them out.” As if he read your mind, he responds quickly. It’s quite impressive with how in-tune he is with you and your mind.

“Ah,” You nod, trying to sound understanding. It checks out, that must’ve been why his suit was a little… sloppy. “Sounds like it sucked.”

“The Charmony Festival brings out all sorts of undesirables…” Gallagher affirms.

The conversation is dry, but you still feel a weird pull towards him. You simply cannot figure out what else to talk about, what to ask. Anything you fish out in your mind sounds like you’re on a date with him. Sure, the current situation feels like it isn’t far off from that conclusion, but he asked you for a dance, not a date.

And, unfortunately, the ball was coming to an end. It’s a shame, really. Time had slipped away from your mind, and you had enjoyed yourself. Even with such an unsure start, with such an enigmatic fellow, it was fun. The music slowly comes to a stop, as does the other dancers. You and Gallagher are left together in a sea of chatter, flats and shoes clacking as patrons walk off the floor, an awkward air falling over you two like a blanket.

You look at Gallagher, and he has a somber look on his face, watching everyone filter off the dance floor. He himself had a great time, too. Something you assumed may be rare for Bloodhounds. But, he snaps out of it quickly, returning your gaze with a near sheepish smile.

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He chuckles, “Don’t remember the last time I’ve danced like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever danced.” You shake your head, sighing softly.

“Well, you were a perfect dance partner, if that counts for somethin’.” Gallagher starts to walk, following the stream of people.

You follow suit, blushing a little at the compliment. You try to find an organic flow for the conversation, but all you can stutter out is a ‘thanks’ and a small nod as if to affirm your own confidence. You want so badly to follow up with a question about him, to see if you can get a crack from his cool demeanor, but ultimately, you fall short when you two finally step out of the venue. With a brisk exhale, you feel lighter. You hadn’t realized how stuffy it felt within the ballroom until now.

“Well, it was fun,” Gallagher sighs, shrugging off his blazer casually. “I’d invite you for another dance, but, that’s not necessarily my thing.”

With your one chance at getting to know more, you trip over your own words and decide, why not? Why not shoot your shot, ask him out?

“I mean… uh, we could, get dinner, or something?” You sound so unsure, so flustered, blushing a little at your own question.

“Why not?” Gallagher shrugs, an easy smile plastered to his face. “Don’t think I ever got your name, either.”

You hastily tell him your name, bowing your head like you’re grateful to him for this opportunity. You’re more grateful to yourself, being able to ask a question like that. You two quickly exchange phone numbers, and suddenly it feels like there's a weight lifted off your shoulders.

He gives you a thoughtful look, scratching at his stubble. “How about a drink?”

#⁺◟freyito #gallagher x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #gallagher x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader

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yearningforunity · 5 months ago

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The Battle of Colors - Barranquilla, Colombia – February 2006

The Carnival of Barranquilla is a unique festivity which takes place every year during February or March on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. Cumbia, both music and dance, is considered to be the main essence of the Carnival. A colourful mixture of the ancient African tribal dances and the Spanish music influence – cumbia, porro, mapale, puya, congo among others – hit for five days nearly all central streets of Barranquilla, the capital of the Atlántico Department. Those traditions kept for centuries by Black African slaves have had the great impact on Colombian culture and Colombian society. In November 2003 the Carnival of Barranquilla was proclaimed as the Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO.

#The Battle of Colors #Barranquilla #Colombia #Carnival of Barranquilla #February #March #Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO #History #Culture #Afro Colombians

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novlr · 9 months ago

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What are some ways to describe summer ?

Summer is not just a season; it’s a vibrant setting that can add life and color to your writing. Whether you’re crafting a sun-soaked romance or a beach thriller, the way you describe summer can immerse readers in your story. Let’s dive into how you can capture the essence of summer, focusing on the various senses and elements that make this season unique.

Sights

Sunsets that paint the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.

Children chasing ice cream trucks down suburban lanes.

Sunbathers dotting the coastline.

Sprinklers casting rainbows across freshly mowed lawns.

Flower gardens in full bloom, a riot of colours.

Sunglasses showing reflections of the bright world.

Sun hats and flip-flops scattered around pool decks.

Fireflies illuminating the night.

Street markets bustling with locals buying fresh produce.

Hikers on forest trails.

Sounds

The cacophony of cicadas in the late afternoon.

Waves crashing against the shore in a constant rhythm.

The sizzle and pop of barbecues in backyards.

Children’s laughter as they play outside.

Ice clinking in glasses of lemonade or cocktails.

The distant whirr of lawn mowers.

Splashes and shouts from swimming pools.

Chirping songbirds greeting the morning.

The crackle of bonfires during cool summer nights.

The melodic chimes of ice cream trucks roaming the streets.

Smells

The salty tang of sea air at the beach.

The overpowering scent of chlorinated pools.

Freshly cut grass after morning lawn care.

The scent of sunscreen and tanning oils on warm skin.

The smoky aroma of grills at a neighborhood cookout or family barbeque.

Fragrant blossoms like jasmine and roses in full bloom.

The earthy smell of rain on hot pavement.

The mix of fruits, vegetables, fried food, and flowers at an open-air market.

Melting tar with an accompanying heat shimmer on hot roads.

Campfire smoke clinging to clothes and hair during outdoor adventures.

Activities

Beach volleyball games, sand flying as players dive for the ball.

Leisurely picnics in the shade of ancient trees.

Hiking trips taking advantage of the long daylight hours.

Sailing and boating, the wind filling sails on sunlit waters.

Outdoor concerts, where music floats on the warm night air.

Road trips with car windows down, hair whipping in the wind.

Fruit picking in orchards and berry farms.

Camping under the stars, a tent and a sleeping bag for a home.

Water fights with hoses, water guns, and balloons.

Attending summer festivals full of food, music, and dance.

Character body language

Wiping sweat from the brow or fanning themselves to cool down.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight or seeking out spots of shade.

Sipping cold drinks, or gulping down water.

Lounging lazily, limbs relaxed and sprawled out.

Applying sunscreen meticulously.

Adjusting sunglasses or hats for better protection.

Dipping toes tentatively into the sea or a pool.

Tugging at clothes sticking to sweat-dampened skin.

Laughing with carefree abandon, a reflection of summer’s ease.

Turning pages of a paperback with fingers damp from pool water.

Positive descriptions

The liberating feeling of diving into cool water on a scorching day.

The tranquil peace of a sunrise beach yoga session.

The simple pleasure of ice cream melting on the tongue.

The bliss of a hammock nap swayed by a gentle breeze.

The joy of endless blue skies promising adventure.

The warmth of sun-kissed skin after a day outdoors.

The satisfaction of a well-tended garden coming to life.

The contentment of sharing a sunset with loved ones.

The thrill of catching the perfect wave while surfing.

The comfort of balmy evenings spent on porch swings.

Negative descriptions

The oppressive heat making the air feel thick and suffocating.

The relentless buzzing of mosquitoes on a muggy night.

The sting of sunburn after a day of neglecting sunscreen.

The frustration of packed tourist spots and overcrowded beaches.

The exhaustion induced by long days and sweltering heat.

The discomfort of air thick with humidity.

The annoyance of sand finding its way into every nook and cranny.

The disappointment of a rained-out picnic or canceled event.

The lethargy of a heatwave, energy sapped by the relentless sun.

The discomfort of trying to sleep in an overheated, uncooled room.

Helpful Adjectives

Scorching

Balmy

Sultry

Languid

Radiant

Dazzling

Parched

Breezy

Rippling

Sweltering

Sunny

Lush

Blistering

Tropical

Vibrant

Humid

Verdant

Golden

Glowing

Fragrant

Torrid

Tranquil

Crisp

Sizzling

Flaming

Steamy

Refreshing

Shimmering

Lazy

Stifling

Invigorating

Sparkling

Zesty

Fervent

Stuffy

Arid

Saturated

Juicy

Sunbaked

Fetid

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