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kykyonthemoon · 3 years ago

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A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Childe/ Tartaglia x Lumine Fanfic

During The Summer Festival in Inazuma, Lumine encountered a kitsune-masked man. He was strange, yet so familiar. Who could he be?...

(Art commissioned by me)

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When Lumine and Paimon set foot in Inazuma, the weather was midsummer. In the sweltering air, the streets strewn with cherry blossoms became ever more bustling. The Summer Festival had arrived, with residents across Inazuma putting aside their daily worries to enjoy the best things summer had to offer.

Even travelers like Lumine and Paimon could not resist being invited to the festival. The lady from Kamisato house had asked Lumine and Paimon to accompany her, but something unexpected caused her to make another appointment. Determined not to miss the occasion, Lumine and Paimon agreed to take to the streets in new outfits that Ayaka had sent them.

Inazuma clothing is multi-layered and slightly harder to wear than previously worn by Lumine. In the summer, people do not wear too many layers due to the hot weather. As she put on the yukata, Lumine secretly admired its beauty: each needle line was very neat and beautiful, the outfit was pale yellow, dotted with cherry blossoms, especially it was not as hot as she had thought. There was also a hand fan made of bamboo and fabric of the same color as her yukata, which featured koi fish. Lumine remembered that Ayaka once told her about the types of fans, and this one was called “uchiwa,” and the koi pattern symbolized good luck.

“Traveler! You look beautiful!”

Lumine turned to her companion. Paimon wore the same patterned yukata as her, but it was pink and white. Her little friend looked more adorable than ever.

“I was thinking if my dress is a bit tight. If Paimon can’t eat anything tonight, I’ll be so angry at the Kamisato!”

Lumine burst into laughter.

The bustling city of Inazuma greeted them in the glorious sunset. On both sides of the road, colorful lanterns were lit. Everywhere was filled with different restaurants and stalls; flowers, prayer charms, masks, and decorations that extended all the way to Amakane Island. The most sold was, of course, food. Needless to say, Paimon loved to be here.

“Whoa! What a crowd!” Paimon remarked as they mingled with the group of walkers. “Don’t leave me behind, Traveler!”

However, it was Lumine who was left behind when Paimon was caught up in the roadside food stalls. The little companion flew up and then swooped down on literally every stall she saw, as they offered free tastings. A few minutes later, Lumine could not see Paimon anymore.

Lumine could not fly like Paimon. She had to squeeze through the stream of smiling and talking people to find her friend. Inazuma City is large, with small streets intertwined and connected to one another. After a long search, Lumine accepted the fact that she had lost Paimon.

Lumine sighed. It’s also unclear where she was on the map of Inazuma City. She wandered alone, looking at the streets and rolled her eyes to every corner to see if Paimon was somewhere around. Not paying attention to the path, she suddenly bumped into someone's back.

“Sorry… I’m sorry!” Lumine said, embarrassed.

In front of her was a white yukata patterned with light blue waves. Whoever she bumped into was much taller than her. Then, he turned around.

Lumine noticed that he was wearing a kitsune mask on his face. Although his face was unknown to her, his appearance was very familiar; tall and slim, with short, choppy orange hair, even his voice was like that person.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

Lumine was frozen for a moment.

"You're not hurt, are you? You should be careful in such a crowded place like this. I can’t bear to see a beautiful lady like you get hurt."

Lumine frowned. Even these teasing words were very similar to a person she knew.

"We've met before, haven't we?" She asked frankly. Lumine does not like to play the vague game.

The one in kitsune mask laughed out loud:

“Quite a bold young lady, aren’t you? Perhaps we’ve met, in my sweetest dreams.”

Lumine blushed. She was both embarrassed and a little angry. How dared a stranger make fun of her like that?

“If you’re not the person I know, then I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Saying so, Lumine was about to leave, but the man stopped her.

"Wait. I'm sorry I teased you. But you look a little lost, Miss. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Lumine weighed in on it a bit. She really needed to find Paimon and get back to the inn. Yet was this stranger trustworthy?

“Are you a local?” Lumine asked.

"No. I'm an outsider, just like you. The only difference is that I've been here for a while. I have some personal business here."

If it's a private matter, it's best not to ask. Lumine thought so. She hesitated for a moment and replied:

"I'm actually looking for my friends. I’ve just lost her."

"Then you've met the right person. I know every corner around here."

Seeing that Lumine did not believe him, the man said, "Come on, don't look at me like that! I just want to help a far-away traveler. That’s all."

"All right." Lumine replied. "But if you ask for mora, I don't have much..."

The masked man looked at her for a moment and then laughed so loudly that passers-by stared at them.

"Haha! Miss, you're funny! Why do you think my kindness needs to be reciprocated?"

Lumine paused for a moment. Her days of adventure from Mondstadt to Liyue, and now Inazuma, helped her come to terms with one thing: everything has a price. In other words, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.

"Well... I'm sorry I didn't think right about you..." Lumine replied.

"Then, would you accept my help?"

Lumine nodded and said nothing more, but she thought that she would definitely repay today's favor.

They walked through the crowded streets. The masked man told Lumine about Inazuma and about the culture here. It helped widening her perspectives. If she hadn't bothered to look for Paimon, she would have enjoyed the whole atmosphere.

But there's no denying that everything at the Summer Festival was so special and distracted her over and over again. She came across a mask stall by the side of the road and turned to look at the person next to her.

"Do you want to buy a mask too, Miss?" He asked.

"Not really... I'm just thinking your mask is more beautiful and elaborate than what they sell."

The masked man adjusted his mask a little. Lumine saw him laughing.

"Of course. This is something I painted myself! If you want, I'll paint a same one for you."

Lumine waved her hand. “No, there's no need…” she said, but he pulled her into a nearby stall and asked the owner about the masks which customers could paint themselves.

Lumine watched intently as he painted the mask with red, black lines, and yellow dots. Moments later, he gave it to her.

"Here. For you."

Lumine picked up the mask, examining it with amusement.

"Thank you."

"Let me put it on for you."

Lumine looked up at him sheepishly.

"I... I can wear it myself."

Seemingly unable to hear her say anything, he took the mask and put it on one side of her hair.

"T-Thank you..." Lumine said, gazing down at her feet.

The man smiled.

"Hey, I don't even know your name." Lumine said as they continued to go.

"Call me Mr. Kitsune. The kids in Inazuma call me that." He replied and waved to a group of children in the distance.

He seemed to be very loved by children. Lumine thinks that any person who is liked by children cannot be evil by nature. Suddenly she thought of someone she knew. Could it be...? But how could a Harbinger like him be here? She looked around. There's no sight of the Fatui nearby. Was it all just her imagination?

The two walked into a smaller yet not less crowded street. Immediately, Lumine’s attention was caught by a crowd playing a very interesting game. They gathered next to a large pot of water, inside there were many goldfish. Each person held a seemingly fragile racket made out of paper, and tried to get the fish into their little bucket as much as possible during a specific amount of time.

"Do you want to try it?" Mr. Kitsune asked after seeing Lumine’s interest in the game for a long time.

Lumine nodded.

Mr. Kitsune said something to the woman who appeared to be the owner there, and she handed them two rackets and two small buckets.

In excitement, Lumine sat down and Mr. Kitsune sat next to her. Picking up turned out to be much more difficult than it seemed. The racket was flat and very easy to tear, and the dodgy fish seemed to have learned to avoid players and irritate them, skillfully.

Lumine's racket was torn shortly after she thought she had picked up the first fish. She looked to the side. Mr. Kitsune gave her a new one.

"Thank you." Lumine responded and the excitement returned. There's no way she’s going to lose to these goldfish!

After a hard fight, Lumine finally got her first fish. She eagerly turned to Mr. Kitsune to show it off, but then her face went sullen immediately when she saw his bucket full of fish. What was more obnoxious was that he rested his head on one hand and caught the fish only with the other hand. His attitude of fish-picking was very relaxed, not as strenuous as Lumine's at all.

"How did you get so many fish?" She asked.

"Oh... I don't know. Perhaps it’s my talent?"

He had just finished speaking when another fish fell into his bucket. Lumine gave up and dropped her racket into the bucket. She sat and watched him pick up the fish. From time to time, she pointed to the fish she wanted him to catch.

“This one! It has a nice color.”

"You do know that we have to return the fish after the game, right?" He laughed and moved his hand to pick up the fish Lumine wanted.

After the time was up, Mr. Kitsune got the highest prize: a stuffed fox. He gave it to Lumine.

"It does look like you." Lumine looked at the fox in her hands and commented as the two left. It has soft orange fur, a white belly and four black legs.

"Then every time you see it, you will think of me."

He replied without a hint of shame. But Lumine was blushing like a red tomato. Seemingly aware of her intention to return the fox, he said:

"In Inazuma, it is considered disrespectful to return the given gifts.”

Lumine pinched the fox's nose with a force. She thought about turning it into a sandbag for Paimon to practice her fighting skills, but then it was also too cute for that.

After coming to the end of the street, Lumine realized they had reached the gate of Inazuma. The outside of the city was as bustling as the inside, but the air was fresh and pleasant thanks to the sea. The moon was high, and Paimon was still nowhere to be seen.

Looking around for a moment, Mr. Kitsune said:

"Maybe your friend has gone to Amakane Island. It is the best place to watch the fireworks. Besides, there is also a well-known street stall selling delicious oden.”

Perhaps Paimon would not go there to see the fireworks, but for the food, yes. Lumine agreed to join Mr. Kitsune on the walk to Amakane Island to find her friend. They walked a long way across the coast. Along the way, Lumine noticed that the people of Inazuma City were also heading to the island as they were mostly hands-to-hand couples with smiles. There were butterflies inside her stomach when she thought that walking side by side with Mr. Kitsune like this made them look like a couple.

"Tell me about your friend." Mr. Kitsune suddenly spoke up. "The one whom you thought I was."

Lumine mused. "I don't know if we're friends anymore..."

"What's wrong? Did he do something bad?"

"It could be put that way." Lumine recalled the mess that the Eleventh Harbinger of Fatui – Tartaglia had made in Liyue. Worse than that, he had taken advantage of her trust, leaving her caught up in a dispute between forces like a puppet. Even though everything had been resolved, she still could not let it go easily.

"If he's a bad guy, you should beat him to death and never speak to him again."

Those words made Lumine laugh.

"I do want to beat him up. But..." She paused for a moment and then continued. "There’s also a good side of him that changes my opinions on him. I wonder what his true face is."

They walked a little further. The sound of waves was caught in her ears. Lumine saw some crabs digging the sand and hiding from people in the distance.

"Everyone has their own masks to wear, Miss." Mr. Kitsune said. "One day, I hope he'll have the courage to take his mask off in front of you."

Lumine gazed up at the man wearing the fox mask next to her for a moment. Wasn’t he hiding his face from her too? What's that fox mask hiding that she didn’t know yet? But everyone has secrets, and Lumine is not much of a pryer.

As soon as they arrived at Amakane Island, Lumine’s nose was immediately attacked by the aroma of food emanating from street vendors. Perhaps she was really hungry after the hopeless search for Paimon, and a long walk to this place. Now Lumine just wanted to sit down and eat all the food that the people here had to offer.

Mr. Kitsune led Lumine to an oden stall. They were seated right in front of the counter and the smoke and aroma emanating from the kitchen in front of them made Lumine's stomach rumble louder than ever. There was no need to wait long, their food was served soon after. Lumine's bowl had a variety of food: fish balls, boiled eggs, fried tofu, radishes and even noodles. She happily picked up her chopsticks and grabbed the food, but then realized that Mr. Kitsune was still sitting and looking at his oden bowl in a rather contemplative way.

"Aren’t you going to eat?" Lumine asked.

"Ah..." Mr. Kitsune seemed confused. He picked up his bamboo chopsticks awkwardly.

That person doesn't even know how to hold a chopstick too... Lumine brushed that thought away as soon as it appeared. She should have let go of the obsession which was him for a long time. Somehow, in all the places she went and the people she met, Lumine was looking for such a familiar silhouette in the past.

"Here, let me show you." Lumine reached out her chopsticks to Mr. Kitsune and demonstrated how to hold them little by little. There were moments when their hands touched and Lumine found herself blushing more than necessary.

"You're so good!" Mr. Kitsune's remarks made Lumine's cheeks flush to the ears.

"Well... It's just a normal skill..." She replied, recalling her days at Liyue, when she had practiced holding chopsticks skillfully to pick up food before Paimon ate it all.

Lumine ate her oden and praised the chef's talent. She also kept her eyes on Mr. Kitsune. He merely lifted the mask a little to eat, and the place they sat was not bright enough for Lumine to see his face clearly.

After the oden, Lumine was once again invited by Mr. Kitsune to a tri-color dango treat. Realizing that she was being treated too much, she offered to pay for some octopus balls called takoyaki which later on she had quite a memory of. It's a dish of spherical scones made of flour, with chopped octopus fillings and some other ingredients inside, then fried in a special pan that has a lot of semicircular concave parts. Lumine bought a square plate containing four takoyaki arranged neatly inside and she skewered one to her mouth.

“Wait!”

But It was too late for Mr. Kitsune, Lumine had put a whole round takoyaki in her mouth. She looked at him and wondered why he was leaning up as if he’s afraid her tongue was burnt. The food was cold enough to be eaten. But that's just what she thought.

When she bit into the crust and spilled the filling, Lumine knew why Mr. Kitsune had warned her. The filling was so hot that Lumine's tongue tip was on fire. She rushed a hand to her mouth, tears welling up. She tried to chew and swallow the food. Fortunately, it wasn't so hot to the point it actually burned her tongue.

Mr. Kitsune gave her a cool cup of tea. Lumine, after regaining her composure, noticed that he had been chuckled all along. She grimaced, took a sip of tea and said in a furious tone:

"You don't have to laugh at me like that."

Mr. Kitsune tried to suppress his laughter and replied, "Sorry... I've never seen anyone eating takoyaki in such a cute way."

Lumine's face was red, not knowing whether it was the food being too hot or because she was embarrassed.

Nearby, there was a place filled with tiny hexagonal wooden cards. Mr. Kitsune said Lumine could write her prayers on the card and hang it up. She took one and wrote her wish, hoping that she would soon be reunited with her twin brother. Mr. Kitsune just stood beside her, his eyes looking away.

"You don’t have a prayer?"

"I don't need it." He replied. "My wish has already come true tonight."

Lumine wondered what his wish was, but she doubted that a mysterious man like him would let her know too much about himself.

They still could not find Paimon. Mr. Kitsune said that having gone to this place, at least they should see the fireworks. So Lumine and he climbed the moss-covered stone steps filled with weeds, through the red torii gates that had faded over the years. The whole road felt as the entrance to a wonderland with fireflies and magical forests.

There were also a few others walking up to the fireworks watching location. One of them accidentally bumped into Lumine causing her to slip. She thought she was going to fall, but Lumine was saved. She found herself in Mr. Kitsune's arm and her head on his shoulder. He stood just one step behind her. And then, Lumine caught his blue eyes.

They’re the same like someone’s…

Embarrassed, Lumine stood up. "T-Thank you..." She said, turning her face away.

Lumine was not used to walking on Inazuma wooden slippers. She blamed them just to avoid thinking about the real cause of her confusion. Mr. Kitsune suddenly stood closer by her and said:

"Hold on to my hand, you won't fall again."

He did not look at Lumine but his hand was reaching out in front of her. Lumine hesitated but held on to it at last. They walked slowly up all the stone steps, to a cherry tree and sat down on a large rock, just in time for the very first fireworks to break out.

The night sky was lit up and there was a loud explosion. Colorful fireworks flew into the sky, then dissolved into hundreds of small rays of light. Lumine watched and admired their beauty. It was truly an ideal place to watch fireworks shoot from Inazuma City. Lumine turned to the man who brought her here.

"Though I can't find my friend, I'm happy that I’ve had a chance to enjoy the festival and watch the fireworks with you."

Mr. Kitsune seemed surprised and delighted.

"It is my honor to accompany you, Miss."

Lumine felt her cheeks burning up again. Perhaps all along the way, she had already known who the man in the kitsune mask really was.

"I hope that we'll see each other again soon."

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It was late at night. There were no more fireworks or laughter. Yet there was still a shadow of the person sitting under the cherry tree, even when the girl with him had already left for a while.

Next to him was a crimson mask, which seemed to exude a kind of dangerous and tempting power. But all his attention was on the harmless kitsune mask in his hand. All that happened tonight felt like a dream. Having known the Traveler had come to Inazuma, he still did not expect that she had found him herself, bumping into him among so many people on the street.

He had always wanted to see her again, ever since their farewell in Liyue. He constantly talked about her in letters to his family, as if they were very close friends; perhaps more than friends?

What could he expect, when fate always puts them on different sides of the battle? He fought for what he believed, and she always chose to help those who opposed him. But deep down in him was the desire to see her again, to see her smile at him once more. He wanted to touch her, but feared she would disappear like fireflies.

Therefore, having a walk with her, eating together and watching the fireworks next to her; everything that happened tonight was a beautiful dream in the middle of the summer night. Delightful and sweet, yet came and faded away too quickly. After all, at least he knew she still remembered him.

If only she didn't. That way, she would not have to be upset when they meet again, maybe in another battle here in this land. She had hoped that they would see each other again soon, but he'd rather she not knew who was with her tonight.

Tartaglia put down the kitsune mask and picked up his Harbinger mask. He turned his gaze to the sky, praying silently that the stars would remember today for eternity. Then he put on the heavy mask and left.

-The End-

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Au's note: It's been a while since my last Genshin fic. Hope you guys enjoy this one. I really love Japanese festivals in summer and this piece was inspired by those, and with the in-game activities/ atmosphere too of course!

For the fanart posted with this story, I think of it as something happens one or a few more years later after the events in the fic. Then, Childe and Lumine would have another date at the festival, and enjoy eating takoyaki together.

My Genshin Masterlist: x

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanart #childe #tartaglia #lumine #chilumi #childexlumine #tartagliaxlumine #fanfiction #fanart #starconch lovers

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onestowatch · 3 years ago

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19 LGBTQIA+ Artists You Need to Listen to This PRIDE

PRIDE is all about self-empowerment and self-determination. It’s about not just being comfortable with who you are but showing the world that there is pride to be found in being unapologetically you. And that’s why, this PRIDE, we wanted to shine a light on a small handful of our favorite LGBTQIA+ artists. Ranging from rapturous hyperpop, revelatory bossa nova meditations, romantic rave music, and everywhere in between, these are 19 LGBTQIA+ artists who deserve a spot on your PRIDE playlist and every playlist for that matter.

girl in red

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In her debut single, “i wanna be your girlfriend,” a teenage girl in red unapologetically sings of young queer love over a mesh of lofi production and jangly instrumentation that would come to define much of the bedroom pop genre. It is a standout moment of unrelenting honesty, and a serenely simple three-minute confession that would go on to strike a chord with millions who were afraid of what it meant to be something more than friends. Now, a few years later and following the release of her critically-acclaimed debut album, if i could make it go quiet, Ulven still writes with that same emotional honesty, putting forth every ounce of herself for the world to see.

Meet Me @ The Altar

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“the little lonely black alt girl i was in the 00s is living rn, she never even dared to hope she might see this 💖💖,” reads the top comment on Meet Me @ The Altar’s music video for their single “Garden.” It is a sentiment shared by much of the rising band’s fanbase, who are used to the mainstream alternative scene championing cis white males. Existing in the space between pop-punk and hardcore, Meet Me @ The Altar exists to challenge the notion that queer women of color don’t have a place in punk. And after penning a record deal with Fueled By Ramen, home to the likes of Paramore, Panic! at the Disco, and nearly every pop-punk band that made up your middle school playlist, chances are this is just the beginning for our new favorite punks.

THE BLOSSOM

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For Lily Lizotte, better known as THE BLOSSOM, music exists as the synthesis and subsequent recontextualization of a host of past experiences. From the sound of their dad belting away in his home studio to stumbling upon niche Internet subgenres, THE BLOSSOM transforms all this and more into a sound that is instantly recognizable but impossible to perfectly place. The culmination of this host of influences takes sweeping sonic form on their debut EP, ‘97 BLOSSOM, a perfectly imperfect introduction to one of the most fascinating rising artists of recent memory.

BIMINI

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You may recognize BIMINI as Bimini Bon-Boulash, the runner-up on the second season of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK. And now you should familiarize yourself with Bimini, brit-pop extraordinaire. Releasing their debut single “God Save This Queen” earlier this June, Bimini deftly channels late ‘90s brit-pop and punk to deliver a single that has us absolutely living for the ensuing chaos. Serving up multiple looks throughout its eye-catching music video, “God Save This Queen” is not just a non-binary anthem but a veritable 2021 lookbook.

Hope Tala

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With a sound that falls somewhere between turn-of-the-century R&B and bossa nova, Hope Tala’s music is expectedly a dream given sonic form. Perhaps that’s why much of the UK singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist’s music is able to so deftly weave imagery of love, heartache, and teenage fistfights into tightknit tracks that feel simultaneously transcendental and deeply personal. And with the release of her 2020 EP, Girl Eats the Sun, Hope Tala poses one all-important question, “Why have a life if you’re not going to do something crazy and make a difference in the world?”

chloe moriondo

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For much of chloe moriondo’s avid fanbase, watching her transform from budding ukulele sensation to pop-punk phenom very much meant watching her grow up. Getting her start on YouTube, moriondo's fanbase witnessed her evolve as both an artist and person. Coming out in the aptly titled “a ramble about self identity, growth, and being a lesbian,” to be a fan of the artist often feels like trading secrets with a close personal friend. It is a sentiment that rings all the more true upon delving into her debut album, Blood Bunny. Grappling with coming-of-age at the axis of empathic pop and euphoric pop-punk, Blood Bunny sees moriondo taking yet another impressive step forward.

Godford

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Little is known about Godford beyond what can be garnered from a handful of interviews online and his succinct Spotify bio, and chances are he’s happier that way. The anonymous DJ and producer aims to make non-binary music that exists outside of the confines of genres, overly-simplified classifications, and even himself. What is important are the emotions his music hold and what his listeners take away. Fusing romanticism and rave in his debut album, Godford: Non Binary Place, the anonymous artist does just that. He provides a space that exists simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, like an ephemeral night spent out on the dancefloor with a stranger or close friend.

Joy Oladokun

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Joy Oladokun is at the core of her music. It may at first glance appear to be a painfully obvious statement, but as her sincere songwriting seeps into every corner of your soul, it is a notion that becomes undeniable. In her major label debut, in defense of my own happiness, Oladokun writes with an unabashed authenticity, never turning a blind eye to the world around her. These shared reflections and recollections of life are often heartbreaking and uplifting in the same breath, but in their candidness, we can begin to piece together what it means to be human, imperfections and all.

Allison Ponthier

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Allison Ponthier may only have a handful of singles to her name, but her unmatched potential is clear as day. Raised in the outskirts of Dallas, Texas, Ponthier’s moving songwriting and emphatic vocal prowess speak to her country roots. Pair that country sensibility with some of the most pristine pop songwriting we have heard in quite some time, and you begin to understand just how exciting Ponthier is as a rising artist. With only two singles to date, there’s not much else we can say beyond do yourself a favor and play ��Cowboy” on repeat.

Rina Sawayama

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It feels like no hyperbole to call Rina Sawayama an inevitable pop icon. First garnering critical acclaim with singles like “Cherry” and her 2017 debut EP RINA, the Japanese-British singer-songwriter staked her name on her immaculate ability to capture all the glamour and larger-than-life appeal of early ‘00s pop. Building on what was a nostalgic yet forward-thinking vision, Sawayama returned with her 2020 eponymous full-length debut. From nu-metal, club beats, to veritable pop anthems, SAWAYAMA emerged as a genre-defying showcase of an avant-garde pop star.

Arlo Parks

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Listening to Arlo Parks’ music is akin to sipping on a hot cup of chamomile tea as you watch the world slowly pass by your living room window. It is a testament to the British poet and singer-songwriter’s subtle yet beautiful way with words, the way in which each lyric serves as a glance into a tightly-held memory or passing observation. These poetic musings come to life in her debut album, Collapsed In Sunbeams, which layers lyrical revelations over some of the most tender R&B of recent memory. Parks’ is more than a must-listen; she feels like the birth of a new wave.

Claud

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Claud has spent the past few years making a name for themselves in the indie pop world, and the culmination of it all arrives in their debut album, Super Monster. The acclaimed album sees Claud reckoning with coming-of-age and love with an irresistible charm. Pair that with a penchant for grounded, affective songwriting and infectious, dreamlike melodies and you have one of the best debuts of recent memory. In case you somehow need any further convincing that Claud is one to watch, Super Monster marks the debut release from Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records.

UMI

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Equally as inspired by R&B and neo-soul as she is by her generation’s penchant for blurring genre lines, UMI and her music exist as a form of spiritual healing. Half-Black and half-Japanese, her work explores everything from identity to self-introspection, such as on the aptly-titled Introspection. It is a fondness for self-exploration that UMI delves headfirst into on her 2019 EP Love Language, a sublime blend of identity struggles, love, and anime that tackles the issue of always feeling like an other, never Black or Japanese enough.

Joesef

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Sad boy summer. It’s the simplest way to being explaining Joesef’s serene albeit somber sound. Emerging out of Glasgow, the quickly rising star often wears his still bleeding heart on his sleeve, even when the underlying sonics seem to be moving onto greener pastures. It is an exquisite balancing act that comes to life on his 2020 EP, Does It Make You Feel Good?. Blending elements of soft-spoken R&B, jazz, and ethereal pop, Joesef sets himself apart as an artist whose influences and appeal know no bounds.

Serena Isioma

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At the top of the year, we named Serena Isioma one of our top artists to watch in the year to come, and for good reason. The self-proclaimed “nonbinary rock star” experienced a breakout moment with “Sensitive,” a track that is difficult to perfectly encapsulate but think along the lines of fusing modern-day R&B and woozy indie-pop with reckless abandon, and you’ll be about halfway there. It was an impressive standout track that was only buoyed by a pair of EPs, Sensitive and The Leo Sun Sets, in 2020, officially cementing Isioma as an artist like no other.

Khai Dreams

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Khai Dreams’ music is effortlessly easygoing. With its straightforward guitar lines and understated production, every track from the Pacific Northwest singer-songwriter flows out as naturally as breathing. Maybe it’s that laid-back approach that begins to explains Khai Dreams’ universal appeal and millions of monthly listeners, despite releasing most of his music independently. A hallmark of the DIY generation and its massive homebrewed potential, it would be a crying shame if you didn’t let Khai Dream’s serene meditations transport you somewhere far from here.

Frances Forever

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Like much of their Gen Z cohorts, Frances Forever’s exponential rise was not the result of a well-executed marketing plan but by the pure chance of a single song finding a home online. The song in question, “Space Girl,” was originally part of NPR’s Tiny Desk Content before soon blowing up on TikTok, and it’s not hard to see why. Short, sweet, and to the point, “Space Girl” is a saccharine love letter to that bubbly feeling of floating on cloud nine. Now signed to Mom+Pop and with their debut EP, Paranoia Party, due out later this year, this is the perfect time to get familiar with Frances Forever.

Dorian Electra

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Unapologetically playing with gender norms and stereotypes while seeing just how far they can push the limits of pop, Dorian Electra has long maintained a cult following in the world of experimental, highly addictive hyperpop. And it’s not hard to see why. Having collaborated with the likes of Charli XCX, 100 gecs, Village People, Pussy Riot, Rebecca Black, and more, Electra’s music ranges from off-the-rails hyperpop to introspective pop slow burns. All of this and more reaches a fever pitch in their 2020 album My Agenda, a devious showcasing of one of pop’s most explosive figures.

MAY-A

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Maya Cumming, professionally known as MAY-A, is no stranger to the hustle it takes to make it in the music industry. The Australian artist got her start entering numerous singing competitions in her hometown of Byron Bay and started busking on the streets at the tender age of 11. Now, she has a breakout single under her belt in the form of “Apricots,” an anthemic indie-pop ode to queer love. And since that breakout moment, MAY-A has continued to release impressive single after single—the latest being the collaborative “American Dream.”

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years ago

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Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes ending author's notes

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Chapter 8/?: Grasping

Sasuke awakens abruptly, nausea clawing its way out of his throat like a soup of sepsis that’s been left percolating on a stovetop for too long, finally boiling over and soiling everything.

Stomach churning, he tries to aim it at the floor - he’s gotten better at doing that, over the years - but he doesn’t quite succeed. Hot bile, acidic with mostly digested dinner, coats the side of his bedding and part of his sleeve.

He coughs, gagging on acid and torment and hyperventilation. Then his stomach lurches again, and he turns to retch another round at the floor. Part of it floods his nostrils, stinging, and he rasps more.

That triggers another round, after which he waits a minute, sharp coughs punctuating the stillness, familiar at this point with what his stomach’s settling feels like. He shrugs off his shirt once it does, and makes his way to the kitchen, hacking on a foul aftertaste and vomit-inducing visuals flashing before his eyes.

A glance at the clock tells him it’s half past midnight as he gulps water, snorting in a manner very undignified to clear out his nasal passages and soothe the putrid taste overwhelming his insides. Then he chokes more of it down, feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache.

There are times when having a near photographic memory is not a good thing. He is very tired of recalling crackling electricity, of stumbling over body after body with lifeless eyes. Men, women, children, all with charcoal irises like his.

And teammates, with irises decidedly not like his, luster flattened to single dull colors.

And himself, at the end, deranged and dispiteous, standing where Itachi had stood a long time ago, looming over remains as if he himself is the final obstacle to defeat before it just ends, the culminating villain in some fucked up fable. All at once, he’s a child again, gagging on a demented form of truth, left to stew there for years and years and years, rotting him from the inside out.

He's noxious. He knows he is. He wishes he could spit himself out along with partially digested yakitori.

Sasuke takes another sip of water as his vision blurs, trying desperately to focus on the wood grain of the cabinets and not daring to close his eyes, lest another flash snake its way into his ocularity and undo the mild soothing the water is providing. He coughs again, throat raw. Then his mouth starts watering, a telltale sign that he’s going to throw up again, so he walks carefully to the bathroom, bottle in hand and trying not to jostle his stomach more than is necessary. Switching on the light and flipping up the seat of the toilet, he makes it just in time.

This round it’s mostly just water, and it burns a little less. The murky brown color he’s faced with seems very reflective of what he feels inside, ignominy and wretchedness and self-loathing, no substance at all, just a bitter aftertaste of that which was left behind on a wood floor a lifetime ago. There had been saliva then, too, seeping from his mouth to the floor in his cowardice.

He swallows once, a gargantuan effort. Then he takes another sip of water, studying the text on the label to try to distract himself, vile and unsettled as he is.

He doesn’t deserve Sakura, not after what he’s done. When his vision starts to blur again, he can’t read anymore anyway, so he looks at the mangled mess left of his left arm instead.

He deserves that, a maiming to fit the crime. He wishes he were a better man.

Slowly so as not to further disturb his stomach, he lies down sideways, pressing his cheek to the coolness of the floor. He feels disconnected from everything, at a loss for proper coherent thought, a mess of misery sprawled on a tile too clean for his own rancidness.

Nothing matters for a long time. He just stares into nothingness, a mild burning in his throat and eyes on a void of pure white that he doesn’t belong in, thinking about how it matches the skin tone of bodies that have been drained of all their color. It’s like he’s barely there, nothing seeming real except the hollow feeling in his chest and the buzzing sensation tempering the edge of his consciousness, like his brain has been stuffed with cotton but parts of it are burning away to nothing. Everything of substance singes away in a controlled burn, destined to always have gaping holes of meaning scorched away at random wherever the fire takes hold.

He doesn't know if there ever even was anything in the first place, deep down. Maybe corrosion is a terrible metaphor, because what's left, at the end of it? Layers and layers of useless shale and sandstone and limestone, packed atop Precambrian filth that’s been decaying there for what feels like centuries. Or magma, set to burn anything he touches.

Or electrocute it.

XXX

Suddenly it’s hours later, and a bird is chirping outside, twitters resounding through a metaphysical tunnel of distortion. Gradually it shifts into an audio that doesn’t sound quite as echoed, accentuated by light filtering in through the miniscule bathroom window.

This happens, sometimes, the nightmares and the absconding into abeyance where his brain seems to shut off, a resulting loss of significant chunks of time. Not sleeping, just staring at something dully for a while, stuck on the same cycle of repeating thought. The memorial stone is a trigger for it, he thinks. It’s why he dreaded going there, upon his return, although it's complicated. Occasionally, visiting it seems to bring feelings that are almost positive, where it feels like he’s reaching out to reclaim tiny shattered shards of what used to be his heart. Mostly, though, it’s just mourning. The reading of names may be what compels the worst of them; sometimes he thinks if he looks too long, he’ll learn things he doesn’t want to know.

Exhausted, he drags himself to his feet and begins wryly picking up the pieces, chest hurting from heaving. He throws his bedding and his shirt haphazardly into the washing machine, drowning them in soap before he grabs cleaner to do the same to his floors.

It smells disgusting, like it’s been petrifying in his stomach for years. He supposes that makes sense; a lot of things have.

Once the surface is clean, he gets in the shower, not caring that all of the hot water is being used for the laundry; the icy cold helps wake him up. He’s fatigued, lethargic, but he knows better than to try to go back to sleep at this point.

As he fights shivers in the towel afterwards, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks awful. Pale and sickly, repulsive, purple sallow staining his skin the same color as the Rinnegan. His normal eye is bloodshot, vacant charcoal that pollutes everything it touches. He lets the black of his hair shift over his Rinnegan eye in a manner he's well accustomed to by now.

His remaining eye inches to the corner of the mirror, the front of the medicine cabinet.

He carefully procures a cough drop, and then makes sencha tea, hoping the caffeine will dull his headache. There’s a part of him that still feels like he’s hardly there, like he’s a ghost just going through the motions. When he takes a sip, it feels good on the throat, but the vomiting earlier has partially singed away the surface of his tongue; he hardly tastes it.

Sasuke then takes the photo from when they were Genin to the living room, grasping onto it for dear life in more ways than one. He alternates between studying it and gazing out the glass, to the cherry blossom tree across the street.

An hour passes, slowly, sitting there thinking about what he does and doesn’t deserve, a mess of thoughts swirling down the drain of his mind. Then another. The luminescence of the day begins trickling in more, green buds across the street gaining back their pigment.

He’s not sure if he should even go to Sakura’s still, because he feels like he’s going to make even worse company today than he usually does, as tired as he is. But he’s weak, and he selfishly wants her; there’s an equanimity only she can provide, the swingback of a pendulum briefly through a sense of normalcy, and he needs the chance to look into jade eyes, to see the light hit them, to ascertain that the chatoyancy has not been dulled. And she’s not dead, despite his inner psyche screaming at him that she would be, had Naruto or Kakashi arrived just a second later. He needs to thank them for that, when he gets the chance, though the timing has never felt right to bring it up.

And he loves her. He's not sure if his love is worth anything, contemptible as he is, but it’s the main reason he can make sense out of the absolute mess that is his inner thought process this morning. So he goes.

XXX

It helps. He’s enormously exhausted, and the light of day hurts his eyes, even once he’s inside and is only absorbing its rays from the diamond window, but it helps.

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets in a voice like honey as she opens her door to him, dimple on open display. She really is so lovely, multi-faceted jade sparking with life that nearly instantly calms some of his anxiety.

He is briefly concerned about what he looks like to her, today. He checked prior to coming over here, brushing his teeth thrice in the hopes that his breath wouldn’t be bad, that he could drench his innards in enough clarifying mint to be even remotely deserving of a small amount of her affection. His eye was a little less bloodshot at that point, but overall he still looked like hell, sickly and pallid.

“Sakura,” he murmurs in response, voice hoarse from being put through a ringer of his own making.

There is a prolonged moment in which she examines him, wearing an analytical expression that reminds him of clinician Sakura. Then the spell is broken, as if she’s forcibly turned that part of herself off, and she’s stepping aside and telling him softly, “Come in! I made onigirazu.”

He steps inside her entryway, setting his book on the console table momentarily beside where Hazel Wood lies, ready to be returned. He then shifts out of her way so he can remove his shoes. He’s not particularly hungry, but he’s glad it’s something fairly simple and heavy on the rice; he should be able to eat it fine.

He follows her inside, appreciating the subdued luminosity of her lamps along the way. The blankets are already laid out on the couch, a promise of simple warmth and companionship that he is very much looking forward to.

As his eye adjusts and he enters the kitchen, ready to grab a plate, his gaze locks on remnants of sliced tomatoes atop a cutting board he recognizes, though it’s familiar to him from his own apartment, not hers.

It’s exactly the same design as the one Naruto gifted him.

A fire roars to life in his ribcage as he freezes for a split second, an exhausted icy hot appreciation. It’s an implication that means the world to him, and particularly well timed.

She wants him around, to help prepare future meals.

“I put some sliced tomatoes in yours. I hope it’s okay,” Sakura says as she hands him a plate, not addressing the elephant in the room at all, as if she just needed a new cutting board and happened to pick up that one, though he knows that cannot possibly be the case; he'd seen at least two in her cupboard, before. “Would you like tea, or maybe some water?”

He nods stiffly, vision a bit blurry, then comprehends the second question.

“Water is fine,” he manages thickly.

They sit in front of her window, supple sunshine streaming in. It’s not too bright here, angled just right.

“...How was your morning?” He asks after taking a sip of water, voice still gravelly. He is beyond content to be sitting here, just looking at her, so much better than a picture.

“Good. Ino and I walk or jog in the early morning on Sundays, if it's nice. Hinata comes sometimes; she did today.” She chews a bite of her rice sandwich.

Sasuke blinks; she hasn’t mentioned that yet. Another chunk of her schedule falls into place. “...Where?”

A half smile blooms on her lips, dimple pushed into being. “Sometimes we run laps around the village, but usually there's no real destination; we just walk and visit.” She takes a sip of her own water. “It’s nice when Hinata comes; it tones Ino down a notch.”

He would snort, if he was in a different sort of mood.

“We went to the southeast part of town today,” she continues. “Ino wanted to see a new building they put up. Her mom has a big order of flowers to deliver there later this week.”

Flowers. In the chaos of the night he’s had, lily bulbs fell to the wayside of his mind.

Sasuke carefully takes the first bite of his own food. It’s good, as he expected; a mixture of salmon, tomato, and salted rice, simple enough to hopefully help settle his stomach. He can kind of taste it.

He chews slowly, reverently, alternating between eating and taking small sips of water as she chatters animatedly. “The flower shop's orders are really taking off now. Ino’s usually busiest once May comes. Hopefully things stay peaceful, so she can stay in the village for the most part; her mom can always use the extra help.”

They wash and dry the dishes together, afterwards, a routine that is beginning to feel familiar. She still doesn’t say anything about the cutting board, but Sasuke greatly appreciates the way it feels in his hand when she gives it to him, weighty and with a designated home under her roof. It slides into place easily in the cupboard with the two others.

They read for a while on her couch again, wrapped in their respective blankets; Sakura keeps her apartment fairly cool. It’s cozy in a way that makes his head feel funny, like he could fall asleep in minutes if he really tried, lulled by the soothing scent of berry and cleanliness. He wonders if it would be restful, if he did. Usually once enough time ellipses, well into the next day, his brain cuts him some slack, though it could be that he's just too exhausted from being up most of the night for the neurons to fire up again to such a frenzy.

Sasuke finishes the last chapter of his book sluggishly and contemplates the ending, a lengthy description of the fisherman gripping the solid railings of the dock with both hands as he comes ashore for the first time in months.

When he flicks his gaze to Sakura tiredly, she’s a third of the way through a new book, titled Among the Ruins: Post-War Reflections. It appears to be a memoir; he assumes it must be one she’s purchased, as it doesn’t have the library label. Perhaps it’s new, picked up this morning while she was out, or it could be one from her bookshelves. He would like to peruse the titles she has, sometime. He drowsily wonders which war it’s about.

He takes a careful breath and just revels in it, being here with her, mere feet away with his eyes closed but able to sense her presence, worn out with thoughts that have edges as frayed as he is. He would like to stay for dinner, too. He thinks it’s perhaps becoming implied that they’ll eat together if she doesn’t have other plans, but he doesn’t want to be rude or overstay his welcome.

Sasuke hopes he can stay awake. Maybe he shouldn’t have said no to tea earlier; the additional caffeine might have helped. He could offer to make them both some, he thinks fuzzily, but then he starts wondering if that would be odd or overstepping. It’s her tea, and her kitchen, and her cups.

Then he sleepily remembers the cutting board.

“You can take a nap, you know,” Sakura murmurs kindly, soft words echoing a little in the stillness of her space. “If you’re tired. I don’t mind.”

He blinks his eyes open, vision adjusting as he realizes he nearly dozed off.

She’s smiling from the other end of the couch. “I can make dinner later, and wake you up when it’s ready. You should rest until then.” She pauses, then adds, “I can grab you a better pillow from my room, if you want.”

His brain catches up to his auditory processing, and then his ears warm.

Oh.

The offer is tempting, though he doesn’t want to be rude. If it were any other day, he would force himself to stay awake, to spend more time with her. But it’s not any other day, and he’s drained, enervated in a way that makes him want to give in. He should ask, to make sure it’s okay, but he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t.

“...Here?”

A flush inks its way onto her cheeks as her expression turns thoughtful. “Yes. Or... you can use my bed, if you want.”

Sasuke forces his gaze away from hers, because his face feels extremely warm all of the sudden. “...I meant… here, at your apartment.”

“Oh.” Sakura laughs in a way that sounds nervous; he hears her fiddling with the book in her lap. “I, um… just meant whatever’s most comfortable.”

When he hesitantly looks back to her, she’s red, too.

“...What will you do?”

She gestures with her hand in a waving motion to indicate it's fine. “I can read, or do some laundry or work stuff. It’s no trouble. Really, Sasuke-kun.” Her blush deepens. "...I would like you to stay… And to have dinner later. If you’re free."

He swallows before slowly nodding his acquiesce, and then Sakura is up and heading to her bedroom in a blink of mismatched eyes. Muffled footsteps pad back moments later, a pillow with a lavender pillowcase clutched in her hands.

Her bedding must be a variant of violet, then, a pastel contrast to the black of his own. He is curious about the color of her bedroom walls all over again, but then she’s handing him the pillow, and he’s too tired to continue thinking.

“...Thank you.”

The smile she wears is so soft, treasured. “You’re welcome.”

He’s out within a few minutes of laying his head on the pillow, drowsing eyes barely catching the lamps flickering off one by one as she meanders around her space.

The pillow smells like her, too, cogent in its beckoning. He sleeps like a rock.

XXX

Sakura nudges him awake hours later, leaning forward to rest her upper body against the back of the couch. The scent of miso and roasted tomatoes drifts into his nostrils while lively jade peers down at him. The light coming from her window has dimmed quite a bit. It must be well into the evening; she let him sleep for a while.

“Dinner’s ready,” she murmurs softly, wearing an expression that is incredibly fond.

He stretches slightly as he rises from her sofa, working out a crick in his shoulder and thinking that he feels much more rested. Sasuke is about to head to her kitchen to get his own bowl, until Sakura turns towards the table, and he sees that she's already set out food for both of them, green market light switched on overhead.

There's onigiri, too, and a steaming cup of sencha placed on his side that he's sure is decaffeinated.

His side.

The realization, albeit a good one, disarms him.

He has a side of her table. And a side of her couch.

Sakura recites a story Hinata told her this morning as they eat, about how Naruto initially buried every single flower bulb in their garden beds six inches deep instead of reading the directions, so they had to dig everything up and salvage the instructions on the package from the trash to replant.

“He mixed them all together, too, instead of planting them in sections like a normal person.” She laughs, and his lips turn upwards in shared amusement. “She said she hopes they didn’t miss one. Iris and echinacea can sometimes multiply out of control. She was happy she didn’t add bee balm to the list, too, or they’d really be in trouble; those can grow anywhere, even in gravel.”

The soup and tea feel good on his throat, and the rice is filling in a way that would be difficult to throw up, absorbent of moisture and chunking together to expand in his stomach until he is full, in more ways than one.

He can taste again, the richness of tomato and miso and calming ubiquitous green on his tongue and in his heart, thoughts of flowers and their idiot teammate helping to cast aside his earlier melancholy.

Sasuke loves her so much in that moment that it physically aches, her voice a balm that puts the rawest parts of him at ease.

"Thank you," he says quietly at the conclusion of the meal, grateful in ways he's not sure he'll ever be able to put into words.

Her response is simple, gentle, pure. “You’re welcome.”

As they wash and dry the dishes together in the dim light of her kitchen, Sakura tells him softly, “I put leftovers in containers for you in the fridge. Please take them with you tonight.”

He nods as his eyes sting with appreciation. When he turns to put away the teacups, he blinks to clear them as she wipes down the sink one last time for the evening.

As she sorts through her movie selection afterwards - it’s her turn to pick - he asks, “How is the poison antidote coming?”

Sakura glances at him curiously for a second from where she’s perched on the wood floor, rifling through the lower cabinet. “I think we might have it solved. Blarina toxin from a southern short-tailed shrew, and then possibly lionfish toxin, laced with algal bloom cyanobacteria. The lionfish toxin is part of the trouble; it’s such a trace amount that it was hard to identify, not enough to cause swelling on the exterior body like you’d see if you were stung by one in person. We’re still running tests, but the neutralization seems to be working on the mice so far.” She blanches a little. “Or, rather, the mice we have left. It’s diminished our stocks; shrew venom is particularly deadly to them.”

Sasuke knew it was likely to kill several of them, but not quite to that extent. He’s interested in her work, so he asks, “How many?”

She turns back to sift through her cabinet as she answers, pulling out another movie to examine. “A gland-full of venom is potent enough to kill up to two hundred of them. It’s why it took us longer than usual; we had to give them the absolute tiniest dose in order to not kill them within hours. I guess it makes sense; they’re one of the things they eat in the wild. The dose in the poison sample was high, though, venom from multiple shrews. A single bite usually isn’t enough to do any harm to humans, but when it’s quadrupled in dosage and laced with other things, it’s more severe.”

“...What’s the treatment?”

Sakura rattles off the extremely complex answer as if it’s nothing. “An antihistamine, steroid, botulinum toxin, and an antibiotic. We’re also giving them blood transfusions and flushing out the blood as it comes to the exterior machine, to get rid of the cyanobacteria. Kind of like conventional water treatment… just more complicated. More steps, filtration, and obviously we can’t use chlorine, so it takes longer.”

Sasuke blinks somewhat in awe. She really is so intelligent.

“...That sounds lengthy.”

She shrugs, movie still in hand. “It is. It’s why we’re not one hundred percent sure if we’ve solved it yet; the lionfish venom is still the weak link, and will be until we can see that the other portions of the treatment have worked to isolate it.”

“...I’d like to learn the process.”

A smile plays at her lips and a flush inks its way onto her cheeks. He supposes it was a roundabout sort of compliment; he could have worded it better, but she seems to have understood him anyway. She does about a lot of things, he thinks.

“I can bring home a kit, sometime, and teach you the basics. It could be useful.”

He nods; he would like that.

There is a long pause as Sakura bites her lip before further examining the movie case in her hand.

Then, she asks, a tentative expression on her face and peeking at him to gauge his reaction, “Want to watch a bad one?”

Sasuke wonders if she knows he would watch any movie with her, if it means he gets to be in her company like this, saved from a room with white tiles or dark wood.

“...Sure.”

She wasn't exaggerating; it is truly terrible, riddled with plot holes so nonsensical that it’s almost funny. The acting is bad, too, though perhaps that’s more to blame on the script rather than the actors.

“Even the camera work is awful,” Sakura says at one point, gesturing towards the left side of the screen. “If you look in the background here, there’s an extra that just… walks into the wall.”

He watches, and sure enough, behind the main characters, a girl walks directly into a corner and just stands there.

He snorts, genuinely enthused in a manner he would not have thought possible hours ago. Sakura laughs at the other end of the couch. It’s a sound he could listen to forever, sweet and chiseled into his heart.

They play an extensive round of go afterwards, venturing well into the night with the plinking of small pieces into place. It’s nearly eleven when she finally walks him to her doorway, two containers of tomato miso soup and onigiri in her hands. As he pulls on his shoes, Sakura sets them by his library book on the console table.

“Would you want to read tomorrow afternoon?” She asks as he rises to his full height.

He nods. “...I’ll meet you here.”

Her dimple makes a reappearance. “One fifteen?”

He inclines his head again in agreement, then decides to ask. It’s becoming easier, now that she has said yes so many times.

“Dinner, after?”

Her smile widens. “Of course. I was thinking gyudon. Light on the sugar. You could…” She bites her lip and shifts a bit. “...You could help me cook, if you’d like.”

Something turns over in his belly. “...Okay.”

She glows at him. He swallows once before reaching out to skim her freckle, enjoying the feel of her cheek against the pad of his thumb.

And then her fingers against his fingers, holding him there against her cheek, soft and steady.

Then he leans down, and his lips are on hers, a breath exhaled in unison as her entryway falls away. Her free hand twists around his neck, delicately brushing the fabric and a fraction of his skin in a way that nearly makes him shiver. It’s a long moment of quietus, a finishing stroke to a day that could have gone very differently.

It is also the longest kiss they’ve shared yet, and it is over far too soon.

He’s pulling away to look at her, letting his hand drop away, when she wraps her arms tenderly around him.

He can hardly breathe, taken off guard by the absolute sensation of comfort he’s enveloped in.

She doesn’t say a thing; just hugs him tight, her fingertips spreading across his back and face pressed to his sternum. Berry invades his olfactory senses.

Slowly he lifts his arm to carefully return the hug, swallowing a tender sort of truth, a kind that goes down easy, the evidence and action of her affection. He can feel Sakura’s heartbeat against his chest, a tempo teeming with life.

They stand there together in her entryway for a long time.

XXX

He sleeps wrapped in a clean comforter, and though it’s not for very long, it is dreamless.

He’s eating leftover onigiri when he receives a mission summons, barely past seven in the morning. He finishes his meal and pops a cough drop in his mouth before departing for the Hokage’s office.

It’s a nice day, he thinks as he walks, coming to a decision as he admires vernal greenery lining the streets. The sun is just lifting over the horizon, painting everything pale amber.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi greets as he walks in; he’s the first one there again, apparently. “Good morning.”

“Kakashi.”

Their old sensei smiles at him in the strange all-seeing manner he has. Sasuke notes the presence of a new picture frame present on his desk, replacing the one he’s given him.

He is extremely grateful to have that picture to grip onto in his darker moments. Sasuke considers thanking him then, for Iron, but then Naruto is barreling in noisily.

“Whaizzit?” He yawns raucously, as if he just woke up, sleep still clinging to the corners of his eyes. They are multi-faceted, too, even in their barely aware state, and Sasuke inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, normalcy shifting fully back into place as the door clicks behind his teammate.

Then Naruto registers that Sasuke is present. “Eh? Teme?!” Cerulean scans the room as if he’s searching for something, then he frowns, directing a lengthy glare Kakashi’s way.

“If you've called me here at seven in the fucking morning for anything that isn’t a Team Seven reunion mission, I’m going to lose it.”

Ah. He was looking for Sakura.

“Afraid not,” Kakashi answers cryptically from his desk, and Naruto’s sleepy glare tightens. Then the Hokage smiles, as if something is incredibly amusing. "Guard duty. Kotetsu and Izumo deserve a break. Things are slow this week, and we have the extra numbers.”

The copy ninja skillfully dodges Naruto’s sandal as it flies towards him. “You’ve got to be kidding. You woke me up for this? You could have told me later in the day or something!!”

“Future Hokages don’t receive special treatment, and it’s professional to give more than twenty-four hours notice if possible.”

Naruto grumbles. "All week?"

Kakashi grins. "Tuesday through Friday."

Inwardly, Sasuke twitches.

"I should specify; nine to six, Tuesday through Friday."

Outwardly, Sasuke twitches.

It's not exactly her work schedule for all four days, but it lines up closely enough that it's fairly obvious what Kakashi’s doing.

Naruto barely reacts; just snorts in a way that is caustic, as if he finds the times unsurprising. "Cool. Can I go back to sleep until it’s time to kick teme’s ass now? Hinata-chan and I were cozy."

Sasuke rolls his eyes; when they spar in the mornings, it’s typically between eight and nine. He’ll have around an hour's extra sleep at best, though he supposes he’s not in any position to judge at this point, given his nap on Sakura’s couch yesterday.

Kakashi’s smile widens, mask wrinkling. "Sure. Dismissed."

They both watch on in faint amusement as Naruto stumbles sleepily out of his office, neglecting to collect his missing shoe.

“...Some things never change,” the Hokage murmurs, sighing.

“...No, they don’t.”

“Well, anyways, before you go…” Kakashi turns to him, tapping the pen at his desk absentmindedly. “How are things?”

Sasuke blinks, recalling leftovers and a new cutting board and the feeling of Sakura’s arms around him.

And kissing. Mostly kissing. Probably too much, if his neck’s sudden warmth is anything to go by.

“Good.”

A lone visible eye crinkles at the corners. “Great. Don’t hesitate to let any of us know if you need anything.”

He lets the words hang in the air for an extended few seconds before nodding slowly.

"I was thinking…” Kakashi continues, gaze flicking down to the photograph on his desk. “...Perhaps we could make Team Seven dinners a monthly thing. It would be good, don’t you think?"

“...Yeah.”

A dark eye locks on him again. "Sai could come, too."

Ah.

"...Sure." He really should make an effort to get to know him better. His replacement seems nice enough, peculiar as he is.

"Wonderful. Let's plan on the first Saturday of every month at six, shall we? If we're all in the village, that is. I’ll let him know when I call him in later this morning."

“Okay.”

A long moment passes, then Kakashi is procuring the shoe from the area behind his desk. Sasuke notes that he holds it as far away from him as his arm will allow.

“...I don’t suppose you’d return this, when you see him later?”

Sasuke says nothing.

“...Though I suppose I could assign it as a mission to some Genin.” Then he's sighing, setting it on the farthest edge of Naruto’s work area. “Too bad I just gave an assignment to my last two.”

Shooting him a withering look, Sasuke departs the Hokage’s Office. He gets the distinct feeling as he goes that Kakashi is incredibly pleased with himself, solidified by what he calls after him.

“Tell Sakura I say hi.”

Guard duty is easy in theory, but spending thirty six hours with the dobe may be… a challenge. He supposes if the reward is being able to see Sakura after she works most of those days, he'll take it. He's sure Kakashi won't keep him in the village forever; eventually duty will call him away for extended periods of time.

It solidifies his decision; he should take the opportunity of being here to plant something.

He stops by the market vendor on the northern end to buy two packages of lily bulbs on his way home. The market is fairly slow, so there are few other people around.

The packages feel good in his hand, lighter than he expected.

Sasuke works through a section of one of his other books before Naruto shows up on his doorstep, still appearing for all intents and purposes half asleep. Their spar ends in another draw; luckily there are no cracked bones this time.

He eats more leftovers for lunch after, appreciating the taste.

XXX

Sasuke feels at home in Sakura’s kitchen, cutting scallions easily while she broils beef and prepares the egg mixture for gyudon just a few steps away. The meal comes together quickly between the two of them, savory with a sauce that is heavier on the mirin and sake than the sugar.

Food they prepare together somehow tastes even better. It’s late when they finally sit down to eat dinner, gazing out through glass at the streets below as they take their first bites.

The sauce is perfect; not too sweet.

“...I have guard duty this week,” he mentions after a while.

“With who?” She asks, though her lips twitch upwards.

He rolls his eyes. “...Guess.”

She bites her lip, and he tears his gaze away from her mouth and up to her eyes. The green is filled with mirth, twinkling with illuminated flecks.

“Good luck,” she says sincerely. “What times?”

He glances away, ears warming and wondering if Kakashi has mentioned anything to her about them being… together.

“Tomorrow through Friday, nine to six.”

There is a long pause. When he peeks back at her, she’s blushing.

“...Kakashi-sensei is nosy.” Sakura takes another bite of her food, looking shy for some reason, and suddenly Sasuke is certain that their sensei has said something to her, perhaps on multiple occasions. He wonders what.

“...He is.” He thinks, then adds as an afterthought, “...He says hi.”

They do the dishes together and play two rounds of chess. Sakura wins once, and the second round is another stalemate, though he suspects he was close to beating her.

It’s close to nine by the time they’re putting the board away. As he works on packing up the last of the pieces to store in their allocated compartment, he notices she’s gazing out the window, scanning the sky as if distracted.

The way she’s angled puts the freckle on her cheek in plain view, pale hair loosely tucked behind her ear.

Then she turns to him, pink flooding her complexion, and Sasuke realizes he’s been staring, the remaining few pieces still clutched in his hand, frozen in midair in his distraction. He hastily finishes putting them away as his own face warms. Sakura rises from the table to put the box away, footsteps echoing softly through her living space.

He looks outside quizzically for a moment, embarrassedly trying to will the color away from his face and wondering what she was looking at. It’s a clear evening, calm without a cloud in sight.

"I was wondering if…"

His vision snaps to her expectantly across the room, and her cheeks flush darker; he can see it even though it’s dimly lit, shifting from one foot to the other. She seems nervous.

"If you would maybe want to… go stargazing for a bit tonight?"

His pulse quickens, pushing at the seams of chambers and ventricles in a way that makes it feel like the vines have twisted their way in, taking hold of whatever they can clutch.

She apparently does still like that sort of thing.

And she wants to go with him.

He nods immediately, struck speechless with elation before he manages to form the question, "...Where?"

Her expression is one of relief. "I was thinking just outside the village. There’s…” She looks away, smiles. “There’s a place Ino and I go to sometimes; we went today for a bit, after training. There are wild lilacs blooming right now.” She shifts her gaze to him again. “It's supposed to be a little cooler, but the sky’s clear. We could bring tea in a thermos; I have two."

Heat creeps up his neck as he agrees, heart stammering in his chest a little, because he’s started thinking about it now, and stargazing together is very clearly romantic in nature, amongst flowers even more so.

Sakura brews tea for the both of them as he distracts himself by slicing a lemon for hers. When he glances at her surreptitiously, she’s still blushing, and jade eyes snap away as if this time she’s the one that’s been caught staring. That makes his heart pound, to the extent that he’s glad she’s a few feet away, because it’s so loud that she might hear it.

They meander to the edge of the village as evenfall settles, into the forested area just beyond the gates. As Sasuke trails behind her, divagating through subtly flattened pathways between the trees, his thoughts wander to bygone seasons.

There once was a pond, three quarters of a mile outside of the village, beyond where the Uchiha District used to be. It wasn’t officially a part of their grounds, but it was remote enough that it wasn’t easily happened upon by anyone other than their family, off the beaten path and through thicket and thistle as it was.

Itachi used to take him fishing there.

He thinks they’d gone four or five times in all, but he remembers it well, because he had been terrible at fishing, not a shred of patience. His brother caught most of them, but he would sometimes set the hook before passing off the reel to Sasuke to help him learn. It was quiet, peaceful in the way that only the wilderness is, away from the pressures of expectations. Wildflowers poked up everywhere in the later summer months, situated on a hill towards the far side of the pond. They picked some together for their mother, once; Sasuke clutched them in his hands while they made the trek back to the village, Itachi carrying their bucket of perch and bass.

It was nice in the autumn, too, warm tones flooding everything. One could sit in the swaying overgrowth flush with falling leaves for hours taking it all in and still not see it all, an overwhelmingly pure sense of peace, made heartier by the taste of freshly grilled fish later in the evening.

The walk had seemed like it took forever back then, on short legs looking upward. He’s never returned to that place, not once, since he was eight. It would hurt too much, for different reasons now than when he was twelve.

He remembers passing wild lilacs then, too, on the way there and back. He supposes they probably thrive in the chaparral throughout Fire Country, if one cares to traipse through the foliage to look for them. He stumbled upon many on his journey, just passing through on roads less traveled.

The small clearing Sakura leads them to reminds him of the pond a little, wild and flush with fading hues, framed by fragrant lilacs in bloom as she said, but there are no memories tied to it yet, so it’s better. Huge bushes of them grow unaided here, wispy purple redolence scattered by the wind into the earth's cracks, ushered in by whispers through the trees.

The wilds are not so far from Konoha, really. Like the cherry blossom tree on the hill, it's a good reminder that some things can grow easily even on rougher terrain.

Sasuke sits rather close to her, so they can drink their tea together. The sun slips just below the horizon, a cloudless sky awash in a shifting gradient. He catches jade as he takes a drink, appreciating the taste, a small bit of warmth on a cool night.

The way she’s looking at him makes his heart rate accelerate again, a serene expression that implies there is nothing she would rather be doing right now than be here.

With him.

Eventually stars begin inking into existence overhead one by one, the last bit of sun lingering just on the horizon, a muted blur of violet bleeding into black. Things are slightly clearer here, beyond the boundaries of the village, no glass or light pollution to obscure the retinas.

Once she finishes her tea, Sakura lies down the same way she does on the hill, so he does, too, trying to calm his heart rate, because he is very close to her, just within reach. The forest breathes around them, coating everything in a lilac perfume.

He used to think about her, when he looked to the stars, feeling worlds away and wondering if she thought of him that day. Being next to her is better, revered, the calm din of an evening he has craved for a long time.

When he turns to steal a look, her eyes are already on him, and there is something about that moment, as the last light fades, being here with her, that makes his chest go aflame.

And then Sakura turns slightly, reaching out towards him with her right hand, and he blinks.

She sweeps his hair away from his Rinnegan eye, a thumb gently skimming his cheek as he has hers, before her hand falls away. Though they are cloaked in the gloaming of dusk’s darkness, enough he hopes to hide the warmth that has crept into his face, there is adequate light left to see her expression, so tender, jade eyes desaturated to dark sage.

He feels seen in a way that he hasn’t felt before, recalling soft words in an exam room.

Not me.

The sky is fully lit in short order, beautiful and dark with only a tiny sliver of the moon visible. It is truly lovely, Ursa Major, Leo, and Hydra scattered before them like a painting a million years old, ageless messengers traveling from who knows where, as he did. It took many steps to get here to her, scattered revolutions passing wide arcs around the sun, yearning for a day to close the gap, to feel like he was close to ready.

It was worth every single one.

A question is on the tip of his tongue, so he decides to ask it, to give in to the impulse.

“...Any poems?” He wants to learn the words she likes, what kinds of meaning she applies to things, intelligent as she is. Sasuke imagines the inner workings of Sakura’s mind to be quite complex, teeming with all of the things she’s read, research and fiction and nonfiction. He would like to know her favorite pieces of poetry, what she holds dear in her own heart.

She shifts slightly; he thinks she must be looking at him for a split second.

There is a lengthy silence punctuated by crickets before she finally answers, “A short one,” voice hushed like the breeze around them; if he wasn’t so close to her, he wouldn’t be able to hear.

He shifts his gaze to her on his right, barely able to make out her silhouette in the dark.

“Take notice of what light does - to everything.”

The words sink into him like rain on freshly tilled soil, triggering a bricolage of recollections. Instantly he is reminded of light through the window of his bathroom, stirring him from a pit of self doubt and guilt. Then light through the windows of Sakura’s apartment, cooking and doing the dishes together in her kitchen. A nap, comfortable on her couch as day fades into dusk, lamps switched off for a period of much needed rest. Flowers, grown by a doorstep with the sun’s rays seeping in through diamond patterning. The shadow of a jasmine plant, inked onto her cheekbone, and neon lights reflectant atop pale pink hair.

The intricate stitching of an uchiwa fan, thread catching iridescence as she holds it daintily in her hands as if it is something important, to be cherished.

Her eyes when she is happy, hints of gold flecks, catching like fractals of color atop shifting seafoam.

The way white nerine lilies looked drenched in sunlight, on days that are decidedly not summer monsoons.

Stars are a form of light, too, and despite being far away, they are refulgent in their luminosity, a beauty that cuts through murk and offers much for contemplation; the gaps of darkness between them are what allows people to make meaning out of them, constellations strewn together.

He is home, surrounded by spring. It is something to behold.

“...Did you write letters to Naruto?” Sakura asks after a lengthy period of reflection, so softly that her voice is almost a whisper.

The concept is so ridiculous to him that he would snort, if not for the moment they are sharing right now and the way she asked it, no hint of a joke in her tone.

So he answers seriously, just as quietly. “No.”

There is a long pause.

“...And Kakashi-sensei?”

Ah. He understands what she’s really asking. “...Other than missions, no.”

It’s hard to tell, but he thinks he sees her fingers grip in the grass next to her, gently as if in reflex.

Sasuke tries very hard to swallow his doubts.

When they were on missions as Genin, she used to lay sprawled out like this, hands spread next to her. So did Naruto. It bothered him then, because he liked his folded together on his stomach and he was very particular about personal space, which they both invaded.

Sasuke doesn’t have another hand to fold his with anymore, though, and he’s less concerned about personal space with her than he used to be. The darkness helps bolster his confidence, too, nyctophile that he is; she won’t see the heat that’s spreading to his face here, lit merely by distant flickering stars.

Take notice of what light does - to everything.

The luminaries above them offer only a little of it, yet it's a transfixing sight, something of the epochal and the divine present that he has been drawn to for years.

So he reaches out to skim her hand with his, a tentative sort of constellation in itself, recorded in points of contact and palm prints on the skin rather than etched in alembic light in the sky.

There are soft fingertips, a knuckle gently gliding by. Then she’s interlacing her fingers with his, and suddenly it’s not tentative at all. It’s leal, steady, her small hand in his as if it has always belonged there, the scent of flourishing blooms wafting around them and painting everything in his head lilac starlight.

Her thumb brushes his skin once, twice, thrice, achingly gentle.

He should have reached out sooner, but he supposes they’re young, still. There is a lot of time ahead of them. The stars will align eventually, slow in their revolutions around common centers of mass as he is in letting people in. She accepted his apology for being late already, fine fingertips clutching an uchiwa fan with a touch just as gentle as now.

If he can only hold her hand in the dark, maybe that’s enough for now, a single star he can reach. He hopes he'll reach the others eventually.

Hours pass with her hand in his, and he is a small bit closer in revolution by the time he walks her home.

Lilac and raspberry and starlight coalesce against his lips when they collide with hers, an allegorical perfume he could easily get drunk on. He skims the freckle again, tenderly osculant, and realizes that is the start of a constellation, too, a novitious star burning brighter every time he reaches out. Kissing makes three.

Her hands around his neck make four. This time he does shiver, but he doesn’t pull away.

Sakura’s lips are so soft.

XXX

He plants the lily bulbs shortly after they say good night, under the cover of the caliginous dark that shepherds in the dew of the morning, tiny drops of moisture beginning to collect on nearby blades of grass. The stars are still out, bright enough to be beautiful but dim enough so that he can’t read the names.

Sakura would help him if he asked, he knows, but he doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that yet. He settles for trying to make his touch as gentle yet sure as hers, an elegy of calloused fingers digging carefully through the dirt, grasping and placing lily bulbs one by one. There are four bulbs in total, so he plants two on each side, nine inches apart, allowing them to poke up through the soil slightly and frame the stone; he reread the instructions when he stopped by his apartment earlier. It’s a different brand of corrosion, manually digging up layers of dirt rather than hoping they slough off, but it’s progress, and it doesn't require digging too deep.

There has to be something beneath the layers of sediment, he thinks, to feel the way he does about her. He hopes that what he feels is enough, that his slow revolutions will be worthwhile for her, in the end.

I’m sure it will be lovely, when everything finally comes together.

Being in Konoha is not easy, after everything, but being with Sakura is.

When he’s lying in his own bed a short time later, he recalls the love in her fingertips against his. It lulls him to sleep.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #sorry for the wait it's homecoming week and i'm a yearbook adviser lolololol

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studyblr · 4 years ago

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(actually affordable) stationery essentials

i tried to include as many links as possible as they can go out of stock quite quickly! will be updated

calendars, planners, stickers + post-it-notes

pen & ink monthly dry-erase calendar

planner life weekly kit planner stickers set

planner pouch, accessory, band, journal strap

planner sticker sheets

stationery sets + organizers

stationery set and desk tray

desk organizer

three-tier bamboo desk organizer

silver metal four-tier desk organizer

notebooks

pop artist set of 3 notebooks

A6 textured petrol lined notebook

A5 good vibes notebook

A6 organise my day notebook

A5 pink blue wired lined notebook

pen, pencils, pencil cases

fine-point Antiquity Pens

fine point Metallic Pens

fine point Seaside Pens

Candy Shop Pen set

cute pastel pens

0.4mm pens

black 0.5mm pens

“cute essentials” pen set 0.5mm

momoi beige/pastel pens

zebra fineliner 12 pen set

onyx black pencil brush

pearlescent white pencil brush

zip pencil case

multi-layer pencil case box with 72 slots

10+ different pencil case styles

iridescent bubble pencil case

staedtler pen set

gel pen 14 color set

fluorescent pen set

pastel barrel fine liner pens set of 5

multicolor sign pens

staedtler multi retractable ball pens

100 pieces assorted gel pen set

pastel rainbow gel pen set

neon rainbow gel pen set

washi tape

huge washi tape box

washi tape storage box

washi tape organizer and dispenser

cherry blossom, landscape, calligraphy washi tape

daruma dolls and Mount Fuji washi tape

animals washi tape

Sweet and Salty washi tape set

highlighters

you don’t have to buy the whole mildliner pack if you only need one specific color!!

gold mildliner

blue green mildliner

vermilion mildliner

smoke blue mildliner

magenta mildliner

orange mildliner

yellow mildliner

gray mildliner (the coolest one)

red mildliner

pink mildliner

blue mildliner

green mildliner

violet mildliner

brown mildliner

if you do want a whole pack, it’s cheaper to buy the 15-pen-pack!

colorful highlighter pack

cute transparent hightlighter pens

hekki hightlighters

highlighters with tip shapes

broad highlighters

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teruriphoto · 6 years ago

Video

tumblr

Multi-layered cherry blossoms

可憐に咲く八重サクラ。

サクラの前線が北へと向かう中、

関東地方では見納めの時期になりました。

代わって初夏の到来を予感させる、

フジの季節がやってきたようですね。

そしてすでにアジサイの蕾がなっていました。

素敵な１０連休をお過ごしください。

Finally,

Multi-layered cherry blossoms have bloomed in Tokyo. Looking into the detail of a petal, Or the group of petals, How perfect they are made: Beauty, nicety, and perfection of composition, I have just lost my words.

If you like to go to cherry blossom viewing in Japan Go to north where Sakura has begun to bloom.

Go to →　 http://teruri-photo.com/ https://teruriphoto.tumblr.com/ https://twitter.com/teruriphoto https://www.instagram.com/teruriphoto

#Multi-layered cherry blossoms #八重サクラ #サクラ #初夏 #petal #Beauty #nicety #composition #Japan #Sakura

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japanesewords · 8 years ago

Photo

八重桜｜やえざくら｜Multi-layered cherry blossom

#japanese words #yaezakura #multi-layered #cherry blossom

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itswasteland · 5 years ago

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seasonal aesthetic.

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑. a chill right down to the bones. tobogganing. teeth chattering. sleeping all day. sitting by the fireplace. spending time with family. layered clothing. seeing another’s breath. loving the cold. a state of inactivity. cold hands. blistering winds shaking the closed windows. a bookcase full of brand new books and all of the time in the world to read them. cable knit socks. a bitter remark. a log cabin in the middle of nowhere. hating the cold. full length windows to peer out of. pale skin. deep conversations. watching the snow fall. sharp edges. hot cocoa. smelling every candle in the store. a wild snow storm. melancholy. lighting candles around the bathtub. snow globes. expressing yourself but never finding quite the right words. the softest of blankets. liking, but not loving something or someone.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. the smell after it rains. being in control of yourself. a soft breeze blowing your hair. lightning when it strikes. cherry blossoms. bright mornings. the first sign of hope. the relief of finding something you lost. paris in the spring. birds chirping. the art of growing. a kiss on the cheek. the clap of thunder. a tornado in the valley. smiling at a stranger. planning. saccharine pinks. making promises. trying something new. hugs when you need them most. a bee sting. sitting on the steps of the met. coming inside drenched from the thunderstorm. picnics on a red checkered blanket in the new sun. that feeling you get when you put on a good dress. a long hike. rushing when you can take your time. going to the gym, training at ungodly hours. excitement for what’s coming. becoming yourself. rain boots.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑. lanterns lit around a campfire. seeing the sunrise like it’s the first time again and again. melting ice cream. the warmth of sun rays upon skin. fireworks. the feeling of never wanting something to end. beach days. the lone blow up floaty left in the pool, drifting with the warm nights breeze and nothing else. music blasting at 3AM, loud and proud. palms trees on sunset boulevard. longer days and shorter nights. wanderlust. nights spent staring at the stars. sand castles. road trips. blood orange sunsets. leaving the laundry to hang outside. flowers in bloom. sneaking out of your room late at night. pure contentment. barefoot in the sand. the street lights coming on. the sound of the ocean in a seashell. freshly squeezed lemonade. loose clothing. a cannonball into the pool. sunflowers. the hazy pink before dusk. relaxation.

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋. the leaves changing colors. a heavy backpack. the smell of old books. eating until you’re stuffed. deep, dark woods. the silence in loudness ( the loudness in silence ). abandoned houses. ripped jeans. crunching leaves beneath feet. feeling like you’ve been somewhere before. sitting at a bay window. having endless amount of work. charcoal drawings. screaming into a pillow as loud as you can. pumpkin patches. creaky floorboards. accepting that some things do have to change. museums. small talk. being ignored. procrastinating. a door slamming shut. going to bed early. baking pies. the fear of walking alone in the dark. feeling completely and terribly lost. a twig snapping. crisp, cool days. belly laughter after crying. converse. foggy mornings at the shoreline. writing a daily entry in a journal. a lonely day.

TAGGED BY: @coeurxdor

TAGGING: @longmayshereignxcersei @proditeur @pranking-masters @lcghtnxng @xoblivatesx @coffeeandkungfu @desertmage @dvineglory @fifthbornforrester @galaxysought @goldcnhand @heroicintention @insufferablewitch @kaaras-adaar @meryllfrey @neverstcp @orphicdawn @pxnksuited @redemptioninterlude @spiderprodigy @serbriennecftarth @techdesigned @worshipsonlydeath @whatwxsright @wolfqueennamedstark @wildtruths -- for multi-muse blogs, whoever you’re most feeling! & Anyone else who wants to do the thing.

#tags everyone cause i love everyones muses #meme #{sirius black} he was very good looking #imma try and do different muses #for the others of these ive been tagged in #but clearly im deep in the hp fandom rn

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todayintokyo · 6 years ago

Photo

Yaezakura (catch-all term for multi-layered cherry blossoms)

#八重桜 #yaezakura #they bloom a bit later #they're frothy and frivolous and pretty #my photos #Canon EOS photos

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bubblesweets6-blog · 6 years ago

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Coffee. Curated. Roaster Roundups: Devoción Coffee

“Devoción seeks to elevate Colombian coffee above the other regions by going deeper, searching harder and transporting quicker.”- Geoff Rickly

Anyone that’s ever been to Devoción Coffee’s Williamsburg location knows that Devoción is the most beautiful, transportive cafe in New York. Locals spend entire rainy days camped out on the leather couches, gazing up into the skylight or surveying the hanging garden on the cafe’s back wall. Artists take note that the branding and graphic design are of a piece: consistent, strong, evocative; a kind of Colombian dialect springing up in the physical language of New York. The world-building feels endless inside the cafe’s walls.

Casual coffee lovers may get hung up on the elegant simplicity of the lattes and cold brews, while the connoisseurs spend time exploring rare seasonal coffees that rotate through the menu, on pour over, at the far side of the bar. Baristas and coffee roasters alike press their hands and faces up against the glass and peer in at the stately roaster that functions as the metaphorical and geographic heart of Devoción. Not a single person can believe the green date on the coffee bags piled around the roaster, “That’s only four days ago– how’d they get it here?”

Devoción is something new, something wholly unheard of, even in 3rd Wave Coffee: a Columbian roaster that negotiates directly with Colombian farmers, often while enjoying a cup of the farm’s coffee, brewed by the farmer, standing on the land it came from. Unlike the super light surveys of the great coffee regions that SEY or Small Batch provide, or the dark alchemy that Caffe Vita works on the various coffee crops of the world, Devoción seeks to elevate Colombian coffee above the other regions by going deeper, searching harder and transporting quicker. From harvest to cup in less than 10 days? On a different continent? Devoción is doing it. In NY. Right now.

“The brew methods are extremely specific and wildly divergent from current US, Denmark and Australian methods.”

Along the way, they’re looking to redefine the preparation and enjoyment of coffee in their own — entirely Colombian — image. The brew methods are extremely specific and wildly divergent from current US, Denmark and Australian methods. The ratio for their pour overs? 32g of coffee for 260g of water. That’s nearly double the current standard. Water temp? 200F. That’s three degrees cooler than other methods and each degree matters as much as each click of the burr grinder.

I love Devoción coffee. I love their baristas. I love the joy and care of the owners when they speak about Colombia and the strange, rare qualities of its coffees. But I’ve wondered if they might be insane, before. To come into a high-pressure market, like New York, and bring an entirely different ethos and methodology with them could have been suicide. But, lucky for them, it’s paid off. Not only are they expanding into other locations, they are currently the providers of the most expensive cup of coffee in New York City, since their Wush Wush coffee has been offered at Eleven Madison Park for $34 in a special tableside preparation. That can only happen when you’re doing something right.

Photo Courtesy of Ebru Yildiz

All that being said, don’t expect to have an easy time brewing Devotión’s coffees at home, even when you follow the beautifully designed home brew cards, that they include with every order. The following coffees are profiled in order of difficulty. The first are quite easy to master as espresso or Cold Brew. The final coffees are incredibly technical coffees that require practice to master.

Toro

I’d call this the flagship blend for Devoción. They use it both for cold brew and espresso. Chocolate, Cherry, Almond and Vanilla are the listed tasting notes but that doesn’t really do the coffee justice because these notes are really a component synthesis of a flavor that has only one note and that one note is an idealized perfect memory of your first great cup of coffee: round, sweet, crisped and cooked around the edges, the scent of almonds browning in the oven, while you read in the living room, someone’s toasting bread, you take a sip of something strong and dark, there was a piece of expensive chocolate melting on your tongue and when you last checked the mirror, was their lipstick on your teeth, because you remember having kissed someone and the memory is all vanilla cokes and cherry lipstick and it trails out behind you into history and later, when memory flattens down into reality, you catch your own eye looking back at you, from where it floats in a small saucer of espresso, framed in crema.

Honey

Another perfect espresso from Devoción, this time composed of high altitude Red and Yellow Borbon varietals, from the state of Huila. Honey is a bit more acidic and a bit sweeter than the Toro blend and mellows out beautifully in milk. I like to make lattes with this blend, as well as a long-steeped cold brew to add milk and sugar to… Sugar is great in coffee. Don’t be afraid of it. 5-star chefs use it in their food all the time. Coffee can be a great sweet treat and the fact that we all pretend that it’s only truly good coffee if it’s black is insanity. The honey and the caramel tasting notes balance a sharp citrus, though I’ve never gotten orange blossom exactly, despite what the label claims. Don’t be put off by the eucalyptus, it has a nice mentholated freshness on the end of the sip. 10 days after the roasting date, the eucalyptus note remains, which reassures me that it’s not a fluke of degassing.

El Nilo

A nice winter coffee for batch brew, drip and french press. El Nilo is extremely dark and very sweet, without carrying much bitterness. Earthy and fruity– think figs, dates, dark chocolate, as well as warming baking spices, hints of cardamom, nutmeg, cinnamon. It’s like a nice glass of port or a mug of creamy eggnog. It’s heavy on flavor and quite filling; capable of even overpowering a meal. Although it’s a blend, it’s one that the roaster exerts maximum control over since they have now have their own drying table (placed at the proper elevation for a nice, warm climate) and so can make adjustments much before blending and roasting.

Wild Forest

This coffee reliably produces the kinds of multi-dimensional, high sweetness, sparkling acidity notes that people love in 3rd wave pour-over coffees. I never screwed it up. Each grind adjustment showed me something new about the coffee, without ever ruining things. I like the herbal note that appears on the coarsest setting. It feels wild and unexpected, like finding pine needles in a rainforest.

El Berlin

This is the one coffee that left me scratching my head. Jonathan Dreszer, general manager at Devoción, gave me this bag after I told him what I was into. And it does seem right up my alley: Sweet Orange, Rose, Chamomile and Vanilla. I love delicate floral and tea-like notes, as well as sweetness and well-articulated acidity. But at the high ratios of coffee to water that Devoción recommends, I kept getting incredibly sour brews, even on fine-grind Aeropress preparations. I went into the cafe and spoke to a barista who asked me several questions about my methods. I told her that I was getting beautiful Tomate de Arbol notes from another coffee that Devoción had on at the time but that I couldn’t get chamomile or rose out of El Berlin. She was puzzled, telling me that El Berlin was much easier to get right than the other coffee. I still don’t know if I had gotten something wrong, at an essential stage, or if I got a bad bag. Coffee can be like that: sometimes you feel like a genius, producing one great cup of coffee to the next, other times you feel like an idiot that can’t make one good cup out of an entire bag.

La Paz

Named for the village that it comes from, this Pink Borbon coffee is the work of Farmer Edwin Geraldo, and Mr. Geraldo has managed to produce a coffee unlike anything I’ve ever tried before. The notes are listed as Lavender, Cinnamon, White Grape, Vanilla and Peach but I’ve never been able to get all of those notes in the same cup at the same time. The cinnamon was a constant between pour over and Aeropress. The finer grind settings coaxed out lavender and a hint of grape. Combined with the cinnamon, this gave the coffee a healing, mellow property, almost spa-like. Higher grind settings pushed the warm baking spices into overdrive with vanilla and peaches. My very best cup tasted like peach cobbler!

Now we move into the two high-priced geshas I ordered, to try. (These coffees were the reason that I delayed this profile.)

Gesha El Parlante

This extremely high altitude Gesha has a higher and more aggressive acidity than many of the Gesha coffees I’ve had in the past. Rather than lemon or orange sweetness (or even the peach flavor of the famous Esmeralda), the top-notes present themselves in the lemongrass spectrum, an interesting, complex mix of herbal, tea-like, fruit, citric and floral flavors; all dancing around in the aroma of the coffee. The first sip is all dried apricot and expensive marmalade with a light cocoa flavor settling in the middle. The finish returns in complicated layers of flowers, cut grass and jasmine as the sit on the palate. My favorite thing about this coffee is perhaps it’s most subtle and easy to miss characteristic: the sugar presents as the umami, brown sugar, malty, chalky treat of panela! I’ve always loved panela candies.

“My very first cup had the overwhelming flavor of an ashtray.”

Gesha Santa Rosa

This $56-a-bag coffee baffled me the first two days I prepared it. Until I realized it hadn’t finished settling. It had the overwhelming flavor of an ashtray. It wasn’t terrible. But it made me think of the big wet kisses my grandmother’s friends used to try and smack onto my cheeks. Perfume, powder, cigarette smoke, tea. As Pusha T says, Yuuuugh. After it mellowed, on day three, the coffee stretched out and revealed lightly cured tobacco flavors, grapefruit, pomelo, orange blossom, rum raisins, honeysuckle, jasmine, black tea… It didn’t stop there. The flavors kept unfolding, like little origami cranes, each fortune different: pecan praline against coconut and ash, with white flowers and lemon verbena and lilies and lemon zest and on and on and… I even gambled away 55g of coffee on an incomparable cold brew and got it right! It was my lucky month!

Photo Courtesy of Ebru Yildiz

I still haven’t been to Eleven Madison Park for a little $34 cup of Wush Wush and judging from my bank balance, I won’t be going anytime soon. But, after diving into Devoción’s coffees, I really do want to. And that really says it all.

–Geoff Rickly, coffee enthusiast/writer/musician, coffee. curated. | food. curated.

Source: http://foodcurated.com/coffee-curated-roaster-roundups-devocion-coffee/

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bringinbackpod · 3 years ago

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Interview with Indii G

We had the pleasure of interviewing Indii G over Zoom video! Multi-talented, lo-fi hip-hop rapper, Indii G shares his new standout track, “Hampton.” Beaming with instrumental elements, silvery vocals with layered cooing backup and an orchestral outro, “Hampton” stands out as a reach into the bedroom pop/indie pipeline. An indie pop flow coupled with earworm hooks, Indii G. is not to be missed on mending the history in his relationships. “It’s never too late to fix any mistakes you’ve made in the past. Keep trying and don’t give up, it gets better,” explains Indii. A tale of overreaction and growing from experience, heartache is an all too familiar feeling within “Hampton.” “It’s about rekindling a lost flame; looking back on my mistakes with this person, realizing how we’ve grown from it and how we’ve come back stronger.” Alongside the track, Indii shares the video directed by Dylan Stein. “This is probably my favorite video I’ve done so far! I think every visual element from the background dancer to the lottery ticket explosion perfectly captures the feel of the song,” adds Indii. “Dylan did an excellent job executing the concept, and even tho it started to get pretty cold on that rooftop, I definitely had a blast on set filming it!” A modest rapper on the rise, citing collabs with Powfu and Sadboyprolific Indii G. started making music as a diary, putting his feelings into fruit for hip-hop heads and DIY chillwave enthusiasts alike. With more than a million streams on Spotify, the Louisiana native is building momentum with his velvety echoed layers, infectious beats and gentle, harmonic vocals. Since his start in 2016, his diary has blossomed into an EP and over a dozen singles including “Secrets,” “Story’s End,” “Drifting” and “Cherry Blossom.” We want to hear from you! Please email [email protected]. www.BringinitBackwards.com #podcast #interview #bringinbackpod #IndiiG #EpitaphRecords #Hampton #NewMusic #zoom Listen & Subscribe to BiB https://link.chtbl.com/BiB Follow our podcast on Instagram and Twitter! https://www.facebook.com/groups/bringinbackpod source https://www.spreaker.com/user/14706194/interview-with-indii-g

#podcast #interview #bringinbackpod #music #aspn #americansongwriter #americansongwriterpodcastnetwor

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kykyonthemoon · 3 years ago

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A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Childe/ Tartaglia x Lumine Fanfic

During The Summer Festival in Inazuma, Lumine encountered a kitsune-masked man. He was strange, yet so familiar. Who could he be?...

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

“Traveler! You look beautiful!”

Lumine turned to her companion. Paimon wore the same patterned yukata as her, but it was pink and white. Her little friend looked more adorable than ever.

“I was thinking if my dress is a bit tight. If Paimon can’t eat anything tonight, I’ll be so angry at the Kamisato!”

Lumine burst into laughter.

The bustling city of Inazuma greeted them in the glorious sunset. On both sides of the road, colorful lanterns were lit. Everywhere was filled with different restaurants and stalls; flowers, prayer charms, masks, and decorations that extend all the way to Amakane Island. The most sold was, of course, food. Needless to say, Paimon loved to be here.

“Whoa! What a crowd!” Paimon remarked as they mingled with the group of walkers. “Don’t leave me behind, Traveler!”

“Sorry… I’m sorry!” Lumine said, embarrassed.

In front of her was a white yukata patterned with light blue waves. Whoever she bumped into was much taller than her. Then, he turned around.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

Lumine was frozen for a moment.

"You're not hurt, are you? You should be careful in such a crowded place like this. I can’t bear to see a beautiful lady like you get hurt."

Lumine frowned. Even these teasing words were very similar to a person she knew.

"We've met before, haven't we?" She asked frankly. Lumine does not like to play the vague game.

The one in kitsune mask laughed out loud:

“Quite a bold young lady, aren’t you? Perhaps we’ve met, in my sweetest dreams.”

Lumine blushed. She was both embarrassed and a little angry. How dared a stranger make fun of her like that?

“If you’re not the person I know, then I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Saying so, Lumine was about to leave, but the man stopped her.

"Wait. I'm sorry I teased you. But you look a little lost, Miss. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Lumine weighed in on it a bit. She really needed to find Paimon and get back to the inn. Yet was this stranger trustworthy?

“Are you a local?” Lumine asked.

"No. I'm an outsider, just like you. The only difference is that I've been here for a while. I have some personal business here."

If it's a private matter, it's best not to ask. Lumine thought so. She hesitated for a moment and replied:

"I'm actually looking for my friends. I’ve just lost her."

"Then you've met the right person. I know every corner around here."

Seeing that Lumine did not believe him, the man said, "Come on, don't look at me like that! I just want to help a far-away traveler. That’s all."

"All right." Lumine replied. "But if you ask for mora, I don't have much..."

The masked man looked at her for a moment and then laughed so loudly that passers-by stared at them.

"Haha! Miss, you're funny! Why do you think my kindness needs to be reciprocated?"

"Well... I'm sorry I didn't think right about you..." Lumine replied.

"Then, would you accept my help?"

Lumine nodded and said nothing more, but she thought that she would definitely repay today's favor.

"Do you want to buy a mask too, Miss?" He asked.

"Not really... I'm just thinking your mask is more beautiful and elaborate than what they sell."

The masked man adjusted his mask a little. Lumine saw him laughing.

"Of course. This is something I painted myself! If you want, I'll paint a same one for you."

Lumine waved her hand. “No, there's no need…” she said, but he pulled her into a nearby stall and asked the owner about the masks which customers could paint themselves.

Lumine watched intently as he painted the mask with red, black lines, and yellow dots. Moments later, he gave it to her.

"Here. For you."

Lumine picked up the mask, examining it with amusement.

"Thank you."

"Let me put it on for you."

Lumine looked up at him sheepishly.

"I... I can wear it myself."

Seemingly unable to hear her say anything, he took the mask and put it on one side of her hair.

"T-Thank you..." Lumine said, gazing down at her feet.

The man smiled.

"Hey, I don't even know your name." Lumine said as they continued to go.

"Call me Mr. Kitsune. The kids in Inazuma call me that." He replied and waved to a group of children in the distance.

"Do you want to try it?" Mr. Kitsune asked after seeing Lumine’s interest in the game for a long time.

Lumine nodded.

Mr. Kitsune said something to the woman who appeared to be the owner there, and she handed them two rackets and two small buckets.

Lumine's racket was torn shortly after she thought she had picked up the first fish. She looked to the side. Mr. Kitsune gave her a new one.

"Thank you." Lumine responded and the excitement returned. There's no way she’s going to lose to these goldfish!

After a hard fight, Lumine finally got her first fish. She eagerly turned to Mr. Kitsune to show it off, but then her face went sullen immediately when she saw his bucket full of fish. What was more obnoxious was that he reseted his head on one hand and caught the fish only with the other hand. His attitude of fish-picking was very relaxed, not as strenuous as Lumine's at all.

"How did you get so many fish?" She asked.

"Oh... I don't know. Perhaps it’s my talent?"

“This one! It has nice color.”

"You do know that we have to return the fish after the game, right?" He laughed and moved his hand to pick up the fish Lumine wanted.

After the time was up, Mr. Kitsune got the highest prize: a stuffed fox. He gave it to Lumine.

"It does look like you." Lumine looked at the fox in her hands and commented as the two left. It has a soft orange fur, a white belly and four black legs.

"Then every time you see it, you will think of me."

He replied without a hint of shame. But Lumine was blushing like a red tomato. Seemingly aware of her intention to return the fox, he said:

"In Inazuma, it is considered disrespectful to return the given gifts.”

Lumine pinched the fox's nose with a force. She thought about turning it into a sandbag for Paimon to practice her fighting skills, but then it was also too cute for that.

Looking around for a moment, Mr. Kitsune said:

"Maybe your friend has gone to Amakane Island. It is the best place to watch the fireworks. Besides, there is also a well-known street stall selling delicious oden.”

"Tell me about your friend." Mr. Kitsune suddenly spoke up. "The one whom you thought I was."

Lumine mused. "I don't know if we're friends anymore..."

"What's wrong? Did he do something bad?"

"If he's a bad guy, you should beat him to death and never speak to him again."

Those words made Lumine laugh.

"I do want to beat him up. But..." She paused for a moment and then continued. "There’s also a good side of him that changes my opinions on him. I wonder what his true face is."

They walked a little further. The sound of waves was caught in her ears. Lumine saw some crabs digging the sand and hiding from people in the distance.

"Everyone has their own masks to wear, Miss." Mr. Kitsune said. "One day, I hope he'll have the courage to take his mask off in front of you."

Mr. Kitsune led Lumine to an oden stall. They were seated right in front of the counter and the smoke and aroma emanating from the kitchen in front of them made Lumine's stomach rumble louder than ever. There was no need to wait long, their food was served soon after. Lumine's bowl had a variety of food: fish balls, boiled eggs, fried tofu, radishes and even noodles. She happily picked up her chopsticks and grab the food, but then realized that Mr. Kitsune was still sitting and looking at his oden bowl in a rather contemplative way.

"Aren’t you going to eat?" Lumine asked.

"Ah..." Mr. Kitsune seemed confused. He picked up his bamboo chopsticks awkwardly.

"You're so good!" Mr. Kitsune's remarks made Lumine's cheeks flush to the ears.

"Well... It's just a normal skill..." She replied, recalling her days at Liyue, when she had practiced holding chopsticks skillfully to pick up food before Paimon ate it all.

After the oden, Lumine was once again invited by Mr. Kitsune to a tri-color dango treat. Realizing that she was being treated too much, she offered to pay for some octopus balls called takoyaki which later on she had quite a memory with it. It's a dish of spherical scones made of flour, with chopped octopus fillings and some other ingredients inside, then fried in a special pan that has a lot of semicircular concave parts. Lumine bought a square plate containing four takoyaki arranged neatly inside and she skewered one to her mouth.

“Wait!”

Mr. Kitsune gave her a cool cup of tea. Lumine, after regaining her composure, noticed that he had been chuckled all along. She grimaced, took a sip of tea and said in a furious tone:

"You don't have to laugh at me like that."

Mr. Kitsune tried to suppress his laughter and replied, "Sorry... I've never seen anyone eating takoyaki in such a cute way."

Lumine's face was red, not knowing whether it was the food being too hot or because she was embarrassed.

"You don’t have a prayer?"

"I don't need it." He replied. "My wish has already come true tonight."

Lumine wondered what his wish was, but she doubt that a mysterious man like him would let her know too much about himself.

They’re the same like someone’s…

Embarrassed, Lumine stood up. "T-Thank you..." She said, turning her face away.

Lumine was not used to walking on Inazuma wooden slippers. She blamed on them just to avoid thinking about the real cause of her confusion. Mr. Kitsune suddenly stood closer by her and said:

"Hold on to my hand, you won't fall again."

"Though I can't find my friend, I'm happy that I’ve had a chance to enjoy the festival and watch the fireworks with you."

Mr. Kitsune seemed surprised and delighted.

"It is my honor to accompany you, Miss."

Lumine felt her cheeks burning up again. Perhaps all along the way, she had already known who the man in the kitsune mask really was.

"I hope that we'll see each other again soon."

* *

It was late at night. There was no more fireworks or laughter. Yet there was still a shadow of the person sitting under the cherry tree, even when the girl with him had already left for a while.

He had always wanted to see her again, ever since their farewell in Liyue. He constantly talked about her in letters to his family, as if they were very close friends; perhaps more than friends?

What could he expect, when fate always puts them on different sides of the battle? He fought for what he believes, and she always chose to help those who oppose him. But deep down in him was the desire to see her again, to see her smile at him once more. He wanted to touch her, but feared she would disappear like fireflies.

Therefore, having a walk with her, eating together and watching the fireworks next to her; everything happened tonight was a beautiful dream in the middle of the summer night. Delightful and sweet, yet came and fade away too quickly. After all, at least he knew she still remembered him.

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

My Genshin Masterlist: x

#uwu sorry for my rusty writing skills #genshin impact #fanfic #chilumi #childe x lumine #tartaglia x lumine #lumine #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact fanfic #fanfiction

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