#Cherry Blossom Reflecting Pool

[arclassroom]

Cherry Blossom Reflecting Pool

[bullet-prooflove]

Inspiration: Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @Thedeadsingforme @thottieonline @rhepworth @eddieslut69 @mia1653

Companion piece to Roses - A bouquet of roses sparks an act of revenge.

The morning after you run into your ex at the art gallery Terry wakes up to find himself alone in bed. He sighs as he runs his palm over the cool sheets because he hates that JP does this to you, that he still gets into your head after all this time.

The house is empty when he gets up, your car isn’t in the driveway. He wracks his brain for a moment trying to puzzle out where you’d be at this time in the morning and that’s when he remembers Osaka, how peaceful you always feel sitting underneath the trees during the cherry blossom festival.

There’s a place like that in LA, he recalls, somewhere you’ve been asking him to take you when he has a little time. It makes sense that you would go there, try to recapture the feeling of serenity you felt in Japan.

He finds you in Descanso Gardens, sitting on a bench with your sketchbook in your lap. It’s only when he sits down beside you that he realises just how tightly you’re gripping that fineliner.

“It’s happened again.” You say quietly as you stare down at the blank page. “I can’t draw.”

He hears the devastation in your voice at that admission, he feels it deep within his heart. The last time this happened it took almost a year to break the block.

“I hate that he does this to me, that I allow him to have this power...”

“It’s not as easy as that.” Terry says knowingly. He still wears the scars of his father’s emotional abuse, there’s days when he looks in the mirror and he remembers the cruel, twisted things the old man used to say and he feels them viscerally. Those are the days Terry needs a little more from you, your attention, your care, your love. And you give those things to him in abundance because you know what it’s like to be told you’re a disappointment, that you aren’t worth a damn thing.

That’s what happens when JP steps back into your world, you go back to that place. He may not have hit you, but there is no question in Terry’s mind that he abused you. Terry hates him for that, he hates him for a lot of the things he did to you.

“Let’s take a walk.” He suggests, tilting his head towards the reflecting pool. “A break may do you a little good.”

You don’t speak, instead you pack away your sketchpad before raising to your feet and taking Terry’s hand. He knows that you find the sound of his voice soothing so he guides you through the gardens explaining the history of the place, the flowers they have on display, the conservation efforts.

When you find yourself outside the Sturt Haaga Gallery, he draws you inside. It’s worked in the past, being around other people’s artwork, reviewing their techniques, it inspires you to try something new. It’s the reason that you were in Paris the day the two of you met.

He hangs back as you wander, your fingertips trailing over the display plaques as you read the words. He loves watching you in your element, he often wonders what it’s like, seeing the world through your eyes. You pause in front of a vase made of paper clay and embroidered fabric. He know it’s the colour that’s captivated you, it’s a rich shimming azure that reminds you of the sea back in Italy. There are contrasting flowers sewn into the material, rich hues of yellow and red, each one glistening with rhinestones.

And just like that the block is demolished and you find yourself sitting with your back to the wall on the opposite side of the room, sketching out your own provisional version of the piece. Sunshine yellow you write in the margin, alongside an arrow directed towards the main body of the image before moving onto your own delicate vine work.

It’s a couple of hours later that the gallery closes for lunch, by then you’ve developed several pages of the design along with your own notations. You’ve never worked with paper clay before, it’s going to get a little fun, a little messy and Terry thinks that’s exactly what you need.

You’re excited by the time you leave the gallery, your eyes are bright, there’s a spring in your step. You clutch your sketchbook to your chest as you tell Terry about your plans once you get back home and he can’t help but smile because you have that spark again, that fire. The cloud that JP cast is gone and there’s just you, shining in all your glory.

It’s an hour later, that your phone chimes with a notification. You’ve left it in the charging dock in the kitchen, the same place you always do when you work in the studio because you don’t want to be disturbed. Terry glances up from his lunch preparations, catching a glimpse of the message before it disappears off the screen.

Come out and play with me tonight, Velvet Underground - The Red Room, 10pm. – JP x

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[whitherwordswither]

05: Wrapped Up For Your Dreams, Again

Old Town, one of my favorite districts in the whole city. I had a lot of fond memories here. From hanging out at the local pizzeria and brew pub, to wandering aimlessly along the waterfront. The cherry blossoms in spring, late drunken summer nights and questionable choices.

Today, the streets were empty. Abandoned. That should have been somewhat concerning, but the sun was sparkling in the sky and a nice breeze was drifting along. It wasn't my focal point, so it didn't come off as out of place at all. My attention was glued on the two sophonts I was walking with.

These were friends I hadn't seen in I don't know how many years. We were idly chatting about our thoughts on the latest animatronic body horror jazz club ghost inception movie, Hyperbole, while we made our way toward one of the city parks. That was where Rachel's new house was. In a tree. She was very excited to have the owls over for tea and board games. My other friend, also Rachel, said we should all form a book club and read Derrida.

I wasn't sure he had all the words to keep the water wheel turning.

It wasn't long before I found myself losing focus, the Rachels faces becoming blank and featureless as their words turned from coherent to muffled gibberish. The world slowed and my vision tunneled toward an alley up ahead. All manner of vegetation and vines crept around the sides of the buildings, spilling out in to the streets like a thick viscous sewage from an old drain pipe. Pink and purple flowers blossomed between large, leafy fronds. Thorns pierced concrete and asphalt. Time froze. Everything aside from myself and the plant growth turned lifeless and gray, a scene of cement statues. My friends crumbled to dust.

The city followed suit in a cacophony of screaming birds. The vines beckoned patiently despite the collapse and chaos. I raced ahead to greet them as the dream destabilized behind me. They seemed delighted as they reached out, wrapping around my wrists and ankles, my waist, lifting me up and pulling me in to the alleyway. A very large, voluptuous venus flytrap was growing out of a pile of nondescript rubbish. It opened its maw in a yawn as I was brought toward it. I felt no fear response. No panic rose with bile in the back of my throat when the gaping mouth closed around me. The trigger hairs on the inside of the plant's lobe tickled my exposed skin and… I happily let it swallow me whole.

My next moments were spent tumbling down a membranous sinkhole of darkness, walls of silk squeezing around me, pushing. Further. Deeper.

The world turned upside down and inside out. Scenes and places from dreams I had superb recollections of… and also ones that I had forgotten through the years spiraled around me. I felt the distinct impression that I needed to choose one. I reached a hand out and grasped at the first scene that called to me. Ironically enough, it was a dream I had as a child. The setting was the house I had grown up in, my father's residence on the outskirts of the small town where Trimixthis had saved me from myself. The only difference was, in this dream, exactly as it had been before… the interior of the house was covered in wonderful and vivid flora. Small pools surrounded by crystals and minerals were in the spots in the living room where the furniture would have been. The windows still looked out over the deck and the pond below.

Thick fisherman's netting stretched across the arch leading to the kitchen, the island table strewn with all manner of urns, vases and pots of varying color. Succulents of all sorts grew, shivering and breathing in a more animate living state. The scene was so very surreal. I imagine I had chosen it because it reminded me of Trimixthis. It felt right.

And there they were. In the middle of the living room, connected with the dreamflora, smiling that strange and wondrous smile of theirs. I settled before them, looking up in to their all at once reflective yet depthless eyes, a few of their thinner vines caressing my cheeks and tracing the line of my jaw. When they spoke, it reverberated through the entire foundation, rippling outward. It made my skin crawl in a uniquely tantalizing way. "I am always amazed at how certain things remain so elegantly engrained in the human psyche. You haven't had this dream in…"

"Twenty-nine years or so…" I found myself answering, tethering on the entrails of their words.

"Fascinating, truly~" Trimixthis emitted what I took for an approximation of a chuckle as they smiled down at me.

A silence stretched between us, each caught momentarily admiring the other. I did notice a difference in the dreamscape then. It was much more than it had been, where as I only could recall the particulars of the scenery, how things looked and felt. Trimixthis presence seemed to add another level of life and flourish to it. Their song permeated through everything. If I wasn't careful I knew I would lose myself in that music, so I let my perception branch out… almost as if I could feel along their vines as they could. The house hummed its own song of being. Plants rustled in a calm wind that blew in through the open windows. The trickle of the stream that fed the pond and the bluegill grazing the surface of the water. Even the gentle sway of the large pines along the water's edge.

I ended up losing myself in a multitude of different songs until another rhythm broke me from my expanding absorption. A single vine tapped my left shoulder. I didn't notice it at first, but its continued persistence eventually brought me back to the living room and Trimixthis. They were still smiling. That same vine caressed my cheek. "My, my~ How easy you get tangled in the whirling essence of everything~"

I felt a heat rise on my cheeks as I dropped my gaze to the floor, hands idly occupying themselves with a still tendril that rested upon my lap. "Sorry," was all I could think to say.

"Don't be, sweetling. It's quite pleasant to observe. And quite a useful skill to have if you hone it correctly and not allow yourself to disperse in to obscurity." Trimixthis seemed to ponder something for a span of seconds. The notion was filed away as they shifted closer. "Earlier I asked if you had any questions. I believe you were a little too… wrapped up… to answer?"

My face scrunched in thought. Questions? I tried to retrace my morning despite the brainfog. Once I was able to pull apart the sparse memories of clothing myself and climbing up on to the couch where things really started to fuzz out, I found the inquiries I had not voiced at the time. They all jumbled together and came floundering out of my mouth at once. "Are we on… and the terminal… ship… space and… the doors lights?"

After that mess my mouth hung open in utter disbelief of its own transgression. How did words even? My brain hurt itself in its confusion.

The boisterous, beautiful sound that echoed through the dream was Trimixthis laughing. Flowers blossomed along their figure, vibrant and glowing. The sound carried on the wind and once more reverberated through the dreamland. They set a leaf beneath my chin and closed my mouth proper. "Oh, my stars… you darling thing~ Lets try that again. One at a time, shall we?"

Their vines smoothed through my hair and patted my head and I giggled sheepishly. It wasn't entirely my fault I was a pastiche of hazy recollections! But, oh what a joyous thing to feel their laughter. Every hair on my body stood on end. It was like being hugged by static that was giddy with warmth.

I cleared my throat with a nod and tried again to piece my words together in an order that would make sense for the both of us. "On… your terminal. There was a… ship. Departing…?"

"Yes. We are that ship. The terminal was displaying our trajectory leaving Earth. We should be arriving in orbit around Venus soon. I had Maraxus throttle our speed so we had time to get you a little more acclimated to things. I am afraid I have been… slightly careless with your xenodrug regimen. Honestly, I'm somewhat surprised you've maintained a modicum of self in all this. It was not my intention to foster an entirely vacant floret~ I only wished to pluck all the…" Their vines shifted much like I did with my hands when I couldn't conjure up the words I wanted right off the bat. "…unsavory petiole from your stem. Give you a… fresh start, so to speak."

I wondered about all that. Really. It took some effort, but a cursory poke around my addled mind revealed some disquieting blank spaces where I'm fairly sure, at some point prior to all this, existed… something. At the same time though, I wasn't overly concerned. The tiniest speck of a voice not unlike my own screeched pitifully from a far off void, begging for remembrance. I paid it no mind and even gave it the nudge it needed to plummet deeper and disappear. I didn't like the vibe it held. I didn't want to feel whatever it insisted I needed to feel. Instead, I beamed up at Trimixthis and clapped my hands together. "I thought never I'd get to going space!"

My head was patted again. I liked having my head pat. Trimixthis continued to smile. It was a such a lovely smile. "Chloe?"

"Yes?" I tilted my head and gazed up at them.

"Rephrase." They tapped my head once more.

Oh. Right. The words belonged in particular spaces in order to be understood. I licked my lips and thought real hard before allowing the words to leave my mouth again. This time though, I plucked them out of the air and arranged them accordingly. Because this was a dream and I could physically manifest my words if I felt like it! "I… thought… I would… never get to… go to… .." I hung on the last word, looking back over my sentence to make sure it was correct. "Space."

"Very good!" Trimixthis nodded. "I thought a nice trip off planet might be healthy for you. Now, do you want to know why we're traveling to Venus, sweetling?"

I had been curious about our destination. Venus was in no way shape or form hospitable for human life. But the affini were essentially plants, weren't they? Did Venus have something plants liked? A useful resource? I was trying my hardest to remember what compound Venus was in excess of, making strained little mouth noises as I tried to pluck the answer from the empty space between our bodies. Trimixthis pulled me on to their lap, and I cuddled up against them as I shrugged my shoulders, giving up. They seemed excited about it so all was well in my world.

"We've begun construction of an orbital platform for the collection of planetside resources. Primarily concerning the rich carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Along with the sulfuric acids present in the cloud layers, these two compounds are highly beneficial to promoting cultivation. We've developed some lovely technology that allows us to utilize them in regenerative growth." They spoke as they let their vines worm around my dreambody, stroking and petting as they saw fit. "Carbon dioxide is by and large considered a waste product by your species, I believe. What is that cute little Earth saying? One organism's trash is another organism's treasure?"

My head bobbed with affirmation. Ah! Venus was rich in those things, wasn't it? Humanity, to my knowledge, had a passing interest in the second planet for a while. The abandoned HAVOC project from NASA came to mind. Which really hadn't gone past the theoretical stage… and after further discovery, any deep exploration ideas were scrapped for other ventures. I was intrigued by the idea of a station though, my brain immediately wandering off to dredge up fragmented memories of the first anime I'd ever seen in my grade school days that had featured an orbital ring that surrounded the Earth. Tekkaman Blade, I think it was. I wondered if I still had those DVDs somewhere…

"That is not an entirely incorrect vision of what it may come to look like, sweetling~" A light trilling fluttered in Trimixthis' throat.

I just blinked up at them. Wait. Could they read my…?

"Oh, petal~ We're in your mind. Of course I can. Silly thing." Their delightful laughter trickled across the scene, this time causing the vegetation to shift through an array of pleasing colors.

I guess that made sense. I wondered what the station was going to be like.

"Currently, there is a sizable portion that is cozy and habitable. More is being grown as we speak. I'm sure you will find it quite incredible! It is also, however, part of my job. I am an interface engineer. One of my primary duties is to make sure all our systems can connect and speak to one another. So I may become rather busy. But… not to worry." Trimixthis lifted me up above their head like a puppy, smiling up at me. I more or less dangled there and grinned down at them. "I have arranged for you to meet a number of playmates to keep you out of trouble while I'm working. While I am able to do most things remotely, I prefer onsite inspections when it comes to the more delicate bundles of sensory passthrough and~"

A distant chime sounded, something foreign. Trimixthis' attention was instantly pulled away. I could feel it. Like they were suddenly in another place, only faintly tethered to this dreamform. I tried to focus on the sound myself, because it felt so out of the ordinary. This just led to me getting caught up in the web of sensations, the flux and flow of the dreamscape like before and this time there was no tapping vine to bring me back from the ledge. I felt myself disconnect and dissipate in to the whole of everything. It would have been an ultimately strange experience had I been able to maintain cognitive recognition. Alas, the fog began to roll in through… the trees…?

I blinked, looking around. I found myself laying on a bed of soft, sweet smelling grasses in the clearing of a forest. Tiny yellow flowers dotted the small glade. I knew this place. It was usually a buffer space I envisioned on nights where I needed to coax myself to sleep. The trees stood like guardian silhouettes, the fog a comforting shroud.

Trimixthis was gone. I felt a bit of sadness that began to well in to an awful sense of desertion. Their song still echoed in some awkward proximity, but it wasn't quite enough. It was like the entire foundation of being had been suddenly ripped out from under me. I curled in to a ball and shut my eyes, rocking back and forth on my side as I began to hum the song. To keep it near. To not forget. I didn't want it to go. Why had they left me alone here?

The forest was beginning to not feel like the safety net it was supposed to be. I couldn't concentrate, the song fading by degrees. The abrupt snap of a twig had me bolting up and scanning the immediate area. Fear began to blossom within the tiny beads of sweat on my brow. I could wake up now, right? Please?

"Trimixthis…?" I whimpered under my breath.

Another twig snapped to my left and I whirled about in attempts to keep whatever it was in front of me. A huffed breath and a faint clicking noise echoed off the bodies of the trees. I couldn't tell where it was coming from. The temperature dropped like my mood, my breath expelled in wispy ghosts that drifted up toward the fractures of night sky barely glimpsed through the canopy before the fog grew more dense and only a few feet of grass remained visible.

I didn't like this at all.

A soft, almost chittering-like noise came from my right. I turned again, scrambling backward as a shape took form in the fog and crept closer. The chill I was feeling was pushed back by an intense warmth extruding from whatever it was. In its own way, it was calming and my rising panic was lulled to a more manageable state. I sat up on my knees, trying to wipe the fog away by waving my hands through the air. A futile effort. I just… I wanted to be able to see…

That thought alone spawned a decrease in the atmospheric obfuscation. Oh, big words. My brain was working.

Crouched no less than two feet before me was a creature I'd never seen before. Certainly nothing I'd ever dreamed up before, either. I tilted my head to one side and it mimicked the movement. The elongated muzzle curved with a toothy grin as we locked eyes. It had a very canine-esque appearance that was somewhere between a quadruped, giving the look of its hindlegs, and a full on anthropomorphic embodiment, noting the more humanoid forelegs. It brandished six limbs altogether. A slightly smaller set of arms accompanied their main pawsy-grabbers. It also had a rather short tail that barely touched the grass that was currently twitching back and forth. That was a good sign, right? Not that I should be applying terran-dog logic to this dream-canid. I took a breath and managed to find my voice. "Hello…?"

"Hello?" It repeated. The voice was strangely pleasant. Just this side of sultry. Playful even, with overtones of mischief. Or maybe I was projecting because of the uncanny way the entity was smiling at me. It had a double set of triangular ears and two antenna upon its head.

"Who… are you…?" I asked, and unsurprisingly, it echoed the inquiry right back at me.

When it moved forward I found myself frozen in place, either severely unwilling to take my eyes off of the creature, or entranced in its gaze. I couldn't determine which. It circled once around me, leaning in close to sniff as if we weren't in a dream and scent was real. Could you smell things in a dream? I wasn't sure if I ever had olfactory senses in any slumber-space.

The dream-dog-thing settled back in front of me, raising its forepaws and placing them under my chin, tilting my head up as it looked me over. It tilted its own head from side to side as if inspecting a specimen. It's front bappers were more like hands than paws, I noted. It's smile widened, and my eyes did the same. "M-m-my… wh-what um… sh-sharp teeth you have…"

I had always wanted to use that line in some version of reality. This was probably a good enough place as any for it to be utilized. Mostly because I had no idea what to say and had more or less just blurted it out as I remained motionless in the creature's hold. The smile faltered on its twitching lips before it leaned back and barked a laugh. Before I knew what was happening it had plopped on its haunches and wrapped all four arms around me in a tight hug as it cackled, one of the paws petting my head. A series of trill-growls, strained crackling squeaks and chuffing noises were made. It sounded like an organic dial-up modem. But then the caniform spoke.

"Eeehee~ Mixi said y'was aaaaah-durable~ Rrrright as usually, they is!"

My brain completely glossed over the usage of a nickname for Trimixthis as I wriggled in the canid's grip, managing to gain enough leverage to lean backwards in its arms. I rather wanted to look at it while I spoke than mumbling in to its… distractingly super soft chest-fluff. Which my hands were totally, definitely not playing in. So warm. So soft. So inviting! Oh, right. I needed to focus. "Heh… I don't know about… um… any of that, but. I'm…"

"Chloe, yessss? We are Viremia! Pleasurable greetings!" Any fear that had cropped up in the last few minutes was all but washed away at this point. The manner in which the entity spoke and enunciated was oddly uplifting. I quickly found its demeanor to be infectious, in a good way. Even stranger was my inability to keep my hands to myself, as if I needed to explore every soft nook and cranny of this awkward alien-canine-valley of fur. And the smell! It weaved between peony and roses and fresh earth and something else that was indescribably enjoyable to breathe in. I guess that answered my question of dream-scent.

I buried my face in Viremia's neck as we tangled together and flopped over on to the grass. Trimixthis had said there would be playmates. Was this one of them?

Viremia made a content murring noise, stretching out and allowing me to more or less entertain myself in the daze of sensations their body offered. "We's been assigned t'keeps ya company while Mixi dealsss with ssssomethin' came-up-bruptly like. If y'wants t'bein'in th' waking-place, jus' say words. Rrrf~"

A reply of mumbled nonsensical acknowledgement sputtered from my mouth, my brain simply registering that I had been given a wonderfully soft waggy-tail organism to snuggle with while Trimixthis was doing Trimixthis things.

I could absolutely live with this.

[auburniivenus]

RP MUSE VALENTINE’S APPLICATION.

your name: kurosaki ichigo

Romantic or platonic?: romantic, obviously

A night in or dinner out or an activity?: an activity! let's go get donuts, we can try one of each flavor

Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: chocolate covered strawberries!! ... and no, that doesn't mean I'm gonna cover myself in chocolate, i-- nevermind.

What's your perfect date?: anywhere and anything is fine as long as I'm with you. *careless whisper starts playing* err, anyways, in all seriousness now, I like getting to know new places, especially ones where we can get yummy food. but just staying home is also okay, movie nights are great.

Would you cook for me?: yes 🧡

Would you let me cook for you?: ... you already do so much for me, let me handle the cooking, yeah?

Can we make-out?: i mean, if you wanna, I'm definitely not gonna say no.

Make out in private or in public?: in private, I'm not an exhibitionist

Do you like to cuddle?: I sure do

Blankets or no blankets for cuddling?: blankets

Couch or bed?: bed ;)

What are at least 3 hobbies of yours?: reading, playing games and worshipping you 😘

Tell me something about you no else knows: i can be very affectionate when i want to

Why do you want to be my valentine?: because you're hot, I'm hot, and together we can be the hottest couple around 😎

What makes you a good Valentine?: I will respect and support you in your choices always. and i will also take care of you and protect you at all times. 🧡🧡🧡

Upon   the   silken   fabric   of   her   countenance,   a   smile   erupts   with   the   succulent   grace   of   a   cherry   blossom   embracing   the   first   kiss   of   spring's   caress.   It   is   a   smile   that   seems   to   have   been   manufactured   from   the   very   essence   of   joy,   delicate   yet   unyielding   in   its   splendor.   Her   laughter,   a   chorus   of   mirth,   is   the   unwarranted   gift   presented   upon   her,   as   unplanned   and   enchanting   as   a   summer   rain   serenading   the   parched   earth.   Those   twin   pools   of   molten   caramel   shimmer   with   the   richness   and   warmth   of   a   thousand   autumnal   sunsets   as   they   dance   across   his   words   with   the   diligence   of   a   devoted   scholar   poring   over   ancient,   forbidden   texts.

Each   syllable   he   pens   is   a   precious   stone   in   the   assemblage   of   their   shared   moments,   and   the   activity   he   proposes—a   whimsical   dalliance   with   doughnuts—ignites   the   embers   of   her   smile,   transforming   it   into   a   blazing   beacon   of   pure,   unadulterated   delight.   Orihime's   heart   harbors   an   adoration   for   these   ringed   confections,   a   love   as   round   and   endless   as   the   treats   themselves.

"I   think   it's   a   lovely   idea   to   have   you   enrobed   in   chocolate—a   tempting   dessert   indeed."   She   muses,   her   voice   conveying   a   cascade   of   notes,   light   and   teasing.   A   coy   giggle,   like   the   tinkling   of   crystal   in   a   gentle   breeze,   escapes   her   lips.   "Perhaps   one   day   we   might   venture   beyond   the   borders   of   our   beloved   Japan?"   Ventures,   her   suggestion   hanging   in   the   air,   her   hues   ablaze   with   the   fire   of   wanderlust,   mirroring   his   own   thirst   for   discovery   as   if   it   were   a   reflection   of   her   very   soul.

"One   less   point   for   not   allowing   me   the   honor   of   cooking   for   you." Jests,   her   words   wrapped   in   a   playful   chide,   a   dance   of   light   and   shadow   playing   across   the   canvas   of   her   features.   For   Inoue,   cooking   is   not   merely   an   act   but   a   ritual,   a   sacred   ballet   of   flavors   and   aromas.   Yet,   this   minor   discord   does   little   to   mar   the   symphony   of   their   connection.   "You   are   very   kind,   but   there   is   no   need   for   adoration.   I   am   no   goddess."   Declares   with   a   humility   that   only   serves   to   heighten   her   innate   grace.   Delicately,   with   the   care   of   an   artist   adding   the   final   touch   to   a   masterpiece,   she   affixes   a   stamp   to   his   paper,   a   seal   imbued   with   the   essence   of   her   affection.

[redheadinjapan]

4 Niigata Hanami Spots To See Cherry Blossoms

There’s nothing more synonymous with spring in Japan than sakura, and the cherry blossoms you can see at Niigata hanami are no exception. Niigata is a long prefecture, so the cherry blossoms in different areas can bloom at very different times, starting from the south in Joetsu and working up to Niigata City. Unfortunately, it can be hard to determine exactly when the cherry blossoms in different areas will bloom, which is why this post was postponed since they’re blooming later than originally expected this year. However, when they do start to bloom, it’s a wondrous sight to see.

Takada Castle Site Park

Takada Castle Site Park in Joetsu is by far one of the most popular Niigata hanami spots. The park is lined with cherry blossom trees that are some of the first to bloom since it’s in one of the furthest south cities in Niigata Prefecture. In addition to beautiful views of the castle and its fountain through the cherry blossoms, there is also an abundance of food stands throughout the park. They sell all of the typical staples–karaage, yakisoba, takoyaki, candied fruits–as well as many other interesting treats. And if you can stick around until nighttime, they light up the whole park with lanterns. Even the castle is lit up and, in photos, almost looks like it’s glowing green from the light shining off the grass. This year, only some of the cherry blossoms had bloomed by the weekend we visited, but it was still very pretty.

Hakusan Park

If you live closer to the north of Niigata Prefecture and it’s too hard to get down to Joetsu, you can also visit Hakusan Park in Niigata City. Next to Hakusan Shrine, Hakusan Park has an entire grove of cherry blossom trees that bloom in the spring. You can set up a blanket under the many flowering trees, look out over the reflective pool, and eat food from nearby stands that are set up for most of the spring season. It’s not as big as Takada Castle Site Park, but there’s still a fair bit of space and a lot of food options. There were even some performances during the weekend when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

Yasuragitei (Shinano Riverside)

Another option for Niigata hanami in the city is Yasuragitei. Yasuragitei runs along the Shinano riverbank and is lined with cherry blossoms and flowers in the spring. Local students plant tulips along the riverbanks in the fall, and the colorful buds bloom in the spring with the cherry blossoms. It’s a beautiful place for a walk, or you can bring a blanket and find a spot to sit. However, you will have to bring your own food because there aren't any food stands by Yasuragitei, though you can go back again in the summer when the riverside restaurants open up.

Yahiko Park

If you’re looking for a place closer to Niigata City that still has lots of space, beautiful nature, and a wide variety of food stands, you can also check out Yahiko Park. Generally, Yahiko Park is geared toward fall foliage, so there aren’t too many cherry blossoms around its iconic red bridge. However, most paths are lined with cherry blossom trees, including the main opening to the park just before the Yahiko Park tunnel. Plus, on top of the permanent restaurants, many food trucks and stands set up in the parking lots and along the streets. While there aren’t many cherry blossoms at the top of Yahiko Mountain, you can still see the beautiful view of the town while you’re there and stop by Yahiko Shrine on the way up.

There are many other beautiful Niigata hanami spots, especially in the rural areas of Niigata, but these are four popular places to go and the ones I’ve had the chance to visit. Of course, anywhere with a few cherry blossom trees and a place to sit can be a great hanami spot. It’s all about the people you're with and the appreciation for the short-lived pink blossoms. So, whatever site you choose for your Niigata hanami will be perfect!

[whommag]

**Title: "Whispers of Serenity"**

In a sun-kissed corner of a traditional Japanese room, a young Asian woman sits by a grand arched window. Her long, obsidian hair cascades over her shoulders, framing a face that holds the weight of contemplation. Dressed in a delicate white lace robe, she embodies both fragility and strength.

Outside, the world seems to pause. The window reveals a slice of nature—a meticulously manicured garden with lush green plants. Their leaves brush against the glass, as if reaching for the warmth within. The woman's gaze is fixed on something beyond the window, perhaps lost in memories or dreams.

The soft natural light dances across her features, casting gentle shadows. Her eyes, dark pools of introspection, reflect the changing seasons—the cherry blossoms of spring, the fiery maples of autumn, and the snow-kissed pines of winter. Each passing moment whispers secrets to her soul.

Beyond the garden, a traditional Japanese roof slopes gracefully, its wooden tiles weathered by time. It shelters her from the elements, cocooning her in a sanctuary of quietude. Perhaps she contemplates life's impermanence—the fleeting beauty of a blossom, the transient warmth of sunlight, and the silent passage of days.

As the day wanes, the cinematic quality intensifies. The room becomes a canvas, painted with rich, warm tones—the amber glow of late afternoon, the sepia hues of nostalgia. The woman remains still, caught between worlds—earthly and ethereal.

And so, in this tableau of serenity, she sits—an enigma, a muse, a vessel for stories untold. The arched window frames her existence, bridging the mundane and the magical. Perhaps, just perhaps, she is waiting—for a lover's return, for a revelation, or for the next chapter of her life to unfold.

[ekwolfwood]

Happy New Year I wanted to be back and I actually had a post about the bad things AND the good things complete with photos but it fucking uuhhhhhhhhh broke? So. Yeah. I'll try again but nooo, no photos for me i guess.

but anyways HELLO WORLD, MY QUEUE IS ACTUALLY ALMOST DEAD I HAVE BEEN ACCIDENTALLY AVOIDING THIS PLACE FOR REASONS UNKNOWN EVEN TO ME.

but yeeeeah about that 2023. its been a ~real bad year~ huh, or was it just me? Thought I'd throw up a little end ofthe year wrap up, but have been putting it off because a lot of it sucked.

Between multiple deaths in the family, covid still doing its plaguebearing thing, so much fucking stress, worsening symptoms and endless doctor visits and even worse fatigue thats left me in bed most of each week, im... it seems like i got nothing done.

But it wasnt all bad! I'm trying to think on all the things i did this year (and a LOT of things i acquired this year i did... a lot of retail therapy for the first time in my life really???)

-I cant believe i got to see a Rick Riordan Q&A live, like, it seems like AGES ago but was only this year???? It was a genuine bucket list item for me

-i started drawing again??? And im kinda improving???? Id like to share some of it one day somewhere?? Scary.

-got to dip my toes back into cons again! Only the safe/outdoor ones, but it was nice seeing folks again, despite some drawbacks (like AN being 40°C and witnessing a real stupid truck crash, and Yeti being nothing but stress overall and causing some ~brand new (old) symptoms~)

-I started my new life of cosplaying my own OC's over other things. Being Virtue (my dnd pastel barbiecore nightmare child) was absolutely freeing, i cant wait to make him 7 million new outfits

-especially because i got to do a freaking location shoot at a super cool, very out of the way waterfall, with a reflecting pool. i cant wait to bring so many things there

-also did a waterfall tour of Owen Sound. soooooo many dnd/dragon age/etc shoot ideas

-im also saving up for a few dream dragon age costumes, and its gonna be like uhhhhh.... $500ish worth of scalemail? (for two seperate projects)

-speaking of dragon age, i got alex into inquisition and i've become a nightmare about it again im not sorry

-alex and i went halvsies on thigh high boots that are 100% for my Lavellan, because he's a thot and deserves them

-tell me not to spend another like $150cdn on the official shirts. theyre just. so SOFT. they are a pure sensory joy.

-i bought so many cardigans from independent artists, on preorders. and like none of them are here yet but next falls gonna be 👌👌👌

-i have a lolita problem. got to wear one of my fanciest to the cherry blossoms at the height of my pain flares back in the spring! i now have two new dresses on top of that! there's a third im eyeing right now to go with one of my new cardigans! its a real problem y'all 😂

-but by far my biggest and best decision was i saved up for two solid years and was able to buy myself A FREAKING PS5 without breaking budget at all?????? I'm genuinely proud of myself, this was the exact opposite of an impulse buy??? even got to gift a friend the CoD game that came with it, because i was never gonna touch that lol

Next year better keep up the good things, and no new fucking symptoms. Also, depending on the Yeti news, im not letting myself be that fucking stressed this time around.

[divineprank]

The normally rude and suspicious little royal listens intently to the explanation given, the cultural education for the Passage that has the bolder Hylians scoff behind their hands, or raise an eyebrow in scorn. Despite how little Zelda trusted the man, she was enraptured by most tales of the desert. They were worth learning to the little scholar. It was only later, as the Gerudo King was preparing to depart in time to make the celebrations, did she tug on his cape.

"...do they really come visit? The dead?" Her childish frown told him she was clearly considering this carefully. "Do... Do you think the Queen would come, if I lit candles too? I'm not sure she would want to see me, but... Maybe it would... help Father."

(legendarylullaby)

As tiny fingers grasp the fabric of his cape, Ganondorf feels a gentle yet insistent pull. The tug is delicate but seems to be motivated by purpose: it's a kind of plea for his attention that would be impossibly cruel for the Gerudo king to ignore. With her little pulls also comes a subtle reminder of the young princess's vulnerability and that in itself is a stark contrast to the poised, yet meddlesome thorn in his side that Ganondorf has grown accustomed to facing throughout his time within Hyrule Castle. If she isn't trying to be a little terror, then who exactly is the Princess of Hyrule?

His gaze turns downward, his eyes a mesmerizing gleam of molten gold that meet a pair of crystalline pools of pure, cerulean blue. Her eyes, bright and earnest, look up to the Gerudo man with a powerful curiosity that reflects her silent need for understanding. The desert king notes her tiny brows that are clearly pinched together in serious thought and as her question meets his rounded ears, Ganondorf turns to her completely, abandoning his preparations in order to offer the young princess his full attention.

"Many of my sisters believe in the power of this sacred celebration. If not in the encounters themselves, then certainly in the solace that honoring our lost ones brings to those of us who are suffering grief." His words are spoken free from their usual guarded edge as Ganondorf's towering frame gracefully sinks down to meet the young princess at her eye level. His powerful presence carries an unexpected grace, like a tall mountain yielding to a fragile cherry blossom. The desert ruler's countenance significantly softens once he reads the frown on her young face and as he considers the words the clever little girl had chosen to use. There's a noticeable pause in Ganondorf as he considers his next words with care.

"...Your mother, Her Majesty," words spoken with a respectful solemnity. "...Yes, I believe it will be through the light of your candles that she will find her way back to you and your father. Even in the realm of the departed, those flames still hold significance, we rely on their light to draw lost souls back home." The royal Gerudo continues speaking, his tone soft and measured. He can see the yearning in the little one's eyes, the longing for a connection with her father, the seeking of a love that seemed just out of her small reach. Perhaps, underneath all of that heavy armor, the ruthless King of Thieves can feel the slightest pinch of sympathy for the young princess and the pain that most definitely lurks beneath her brave façade. A spark of compassion flickers within her arch-nemesis, and respectfully, he urges the little one to consider his people's traditions.

"Light the candles, princess. They are your beacon of love and remembrance; an honorable gesture that will guide your mother's spirit back to where it truly belongs... And if nothing else, the flames will provide a peaceful light show as you reflect."

[jynersq]

not to be pathetically homesick on main but i miss dc. i miss the stupid metro and its stupid incomprehensible stop announcements. i miss the national zoo. i miss the delicate cherry blossoms that turn everything pink and feel as soft as a baby’s cheek between your fingers. i miss them even though the extra tourism makes the city insufferable. i miss the national gallery of art. i miss the library of congress. i miss the smithsonian. i miss the botanical gardens. i miss the reflecting pool. i miss how the jefferson memorial softly glows at night. i miss

[arclassroom]

Cherry Blossom Reflecting Pool

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

[ hand kiss ] >:3c

the  intimacy  of  hands. ═══ LEAGUE VERSE ═══ [ hand kiss ]  –  for the sender’s muse to kiss the back of the receiver’s hand.

Chandelier candles twinkled within the ripples of his wine, reflecting back to fill his verdent gaze with pools of cherries and rose petals - how long had he been at this party for? The mage lifted his eyes to flutter them through the many beautiful ball gowns as well as over heads, up ornate walls to the clock situated high above. 30 minutes. Robin's eyes narrowed and his brow scrunched with disdain as he scoffed, only half an hour? Nonsense. With the amount of inane prattling going on about him it would have at least been two, maybe three hours... Surely? The sound of laughter snapped his head around to the left, a sudden queasiness going within his stomach as it danced under his skin. Was he being spoken about? Surely the people here knew he was not Noxian, with their pompous attitudes and blood lust... This wretched country.

White tresses jumped playfully as he rid his mind of the thought, that would be nonsensical; he was nothing more than a filthy little rat from Zaun....especially to these type of people. Selfish, wretched humans that delighted in bloodshed, misery, and the war machine while they sat up in their pretty homes and watched from on high as though they were some heathen gods. His lips curled into a frown the longer he looked, unable to dose the small flame of malice that dwelled deep within him. That was until a relaxed chuckle sounded from behind him, and he was quick to turn his attention to the party's host. A man who Robin had no business knowing, a chance meeting, something that changed his life forever: from a wandering and lost wretch to a masquerade within the richest city in Noxus.

An almost prince-like visage filled his senses as he met those beautiful eyes, like crystals...like stars. The pale yellow of his hair reminded Robin of moonlit filled ribbons, cascading along a snowy bank in the dead of winter, a harvest moon casting a warm glow amongst the vast emptiness. The mage needn't deny the way his lips fold upwards as the man approached, dressed beautifully in fine red fabrics, his face as handsome as ever. Surely it must have been written across his face as he watched the Hemomancer, his eyelashes falling downward to shift into wintry crescent while his cheeks ablazed and blossomed into crimson apples. He took the new drink offered to him, perfectly placing his glass upon the tray of a nearby waiter passing by before he returned his attention to its rightful spot.

He was ready to speak before he heard a gentle chiding, followed by his own hand bringing brought upwards until he could feel the hot breath from Vladimir's lips. Robin felt his throat grow dry as their eyes locked once more, as though Vlad was purposefully trying to rile him into embarrassment - or to tempt him to leave. The whole thing made his head spiral, but it worsened ever more when the man practically purred against his flesh,

Mmmm... You look positively ravishing this evening, Darling.

The man's sharp fangs flashed before lips pressed firmly onto Robin's knuckles and he felt his cheeks flush ever more when Vlad peers up to him through his long lashes. A few more kisses are laid upon him while that intense gaze lowers itself and the mage feels his body ignite with the way he's being looked at. He can't pull away - not now, not when Vlad flashes a playful smile and lifts himself to full height, never once letting go of Robin's hand - never once does their stare part. Another few words go over his head as they stand there...perhaps the evening was going to be fun after all.

[lovlorne]

the issue was never listening, dearie. just being honest with yourself. how many times did you refuse what you really wanted because it wouldn't have been acceptable to partake in it? how long did it take to finally confess what you felt for her?

vermin, though.

it's not healthy to insult yourself like that.

———— ❤️‍🔥┊   ❝ DON'T TALK LIKE YOU KNOW ME, ❞   knuckles glide 'long venom - laced lips, sweeping away vitriol seeping through the cracks of her scowl. ink splatters obscure the kintsugi coursing through her, reflecting the copious cracks of her shattered mirror.

   ❝ you didn't wade through the valley of death back in inkadia 'cause you wanted a fuckin' snack and couldn't tell the difference between those shrimpy ass octarians and walkin' takoyaki. that's what happens when i don't refuse what i want! rightful punishment. i should've known it was unacceptable but no, i learned that lesson the hard way. ❞   

ignoring the heave and ho of her bosom, she drapes a blanket over her pigeon's cell.   ❝ my impulses were fucked. an' i weaned them out, or had others forcefully beat it outta me. i lost my cashier job for fightin' back, of course i'm gonna deny myself when i'm taught so cruelly that i can't win. ❞   

   ❝ i had one person truly in my pocket, one guy who, despite everything, despite rationale, gave me a second chance when even his own kin rightfully wouldn't. ❞   she jerks her heard towards the ground, teeth gritted ( and you left him in the dark, like everyone else. for his own good, but mostly for yours. ) before throwing her gaze back into the void that was blurring eyes.

   ❝ confessed, only to throw it all away! in the fuckin' garbage, just where i belonged, just where mimi tossed me. don't you DARE imply i don't know how i got here, how i put myself here, how i threw my past out to try to start fresh. i learned my lessons! all the hard way! i kept 'em close to the chest, next to my heart, even while it got stomped on. ❞   

bad relationships, bad mindset, bad attitude. there wasn't much good goin' in her early 20's, and though she achieved a dream amongst cherry blossoms, it soon became a nightmare, a living hell, leaving her to deal with the repercussions of letting her guard down. had she refused, had she given up on her desires, maybe she wouldn't be here.   ( and rightfully so, but she cannot change that now. )   

   despite everything, she didn't regret it.    ❝ i miss 'em. every one of 'em. i miss her too. th'fuck you think i took on this attitude for? i carry them and every other fuckin' little memory on my back. i can throw away my looks, i can throw away my career, but i can't shove memories like that down the drain. i envied — idolized — the people who could just... live without apology. damn those who don't like you! fuck kissing shoes clean to please. i gave up my autonomy for kindness, an' i learned i don't have ta do alla that. ❞   

   ❝ like a damn rat in the slums, i nibbled away at what i liked, scurried off with it, and left the shit behind. all those years — the dancing included — made me who i was. who i am. carefully curated. i miss even the worst sometimes, but they're all gone now. there's nothing i can do about that! ❞   violently, her palms brush away salty, pooling puddles drenching her lower lids and cheeks.

   ❝ i have the RIGHT to insult myself. i know myself best, no matter who the fuck you are. but let's be clear: it's just you i'm targetin'.       i'll just have to deal with the friendly - fire. ❞   

[libramuva]

🎋✨ Fox Spirit Under the Moonlit Cherry Blossoms ✨🎋

Beneath a luminous night sky, there’s an enchanting scene that feels plucked straight out of a fantasy tale. Our graceful fox-eared girl, a bewitching blend of strength and elegance, is in mid-dance beneath an archway of cherry blossoms, each petal glowing softly in the silvery moonlight. Her kimono, adorned with intricate patterns that seem to ripple with every delicate movement, casts an ethereal aura as the sleeves cascade like liquid silk, capturing the whispers of the breeze.

Her golden eyes, pools of molten light, reflect the moon’s gentle caress, drawing you into a world where ancient spirits roam and dreams take flight. Every step, every gesture, is a silent melody, a story written in the air with grace and mystery.

This midnight serenade, framed by the tender blush of cherry blossoms, transports you to a realm where nature and spirit intertwine, leaving you spellbound. Can you hear the echoes of ancient songs in the rustle of the petals? ���🌙🦊

[rooflesspainters]

Cherries and June in Retrospect: A Palette of Reflections

Painting by Julio Panisello-Huguet

Originally posted in our Roofless Painters Blog.

We're well into July and already immersed in our new monthly collection, but June still lingers in our rearview mirror, like the dim crescent moon we’ve seen these past few nights fading and dissolving into the distance. Have you noticed it? We started this post before June came to an end, or was sunsetting, as mentioned in the statement we read on the closing of the legendary Marlboro Gallery in New York City a couple of months ago. The notion of 'sunsetting' evokes a far more chic transition than a plain shutdown, so from now on, we are forever replacing with this term anything that ends. The expression invited us to muse on the history and legacy of that iconic gallery: how many cherry paintings might have graced its walls over the past eighty years? We think most likely none, so in some small way, it felt gratifying to correct that imagined omission by dedicating our June to painting cherries, ensuring their rightful place in our year's collections. Cherry season epitomizes the essence of June, a month embodied by these luscious fruits and their many associations. This year's season brought us creative joy as we painted and savored the cherry sweetness throughout the month. We set to work our individual realism skills to create several cherry still lifes, or still lifes with cherries, ever uncertain which choice of words best conveys the premise. Observing Philip Guston's cherries from 1976, we wondered if he also fell under their Venusian spell and painted them precisely in June almost 50 years ago. As with all our subjects, the process of painting cherries transcended the task ahead; it became a bountiful source of inspiration and joy. Cherries have secured their place in every religious text, revered or feared since the inception of sacred writings. They embody purity and a sweet disposition, and painting them has allowed us to imbue ourselves with these very qualities, sustaining our sanity throughout the month despite the tumultuous state of the world. Cherries have also been used in art as analogies for sanguine emotions associated with blood unshed: love, desire, and even obsession. Throughout history and across geographical boundaries, cultures have incorporated cherries into their art, not only as a symbol of summer and innocence but also within their love narratives and romantic traditions. In American folklore, cherries are imbued with Venusian qualities and used in rituals to express romance. This rich cultural and symbolic significance of cherries in art added layers of depth and appreciation to our understanding of the fruit as we were painting it.

We learned that each cherry tree species, flaunting its blossoms to signal winter's end, produces a unique cherry fruit a few months later, signaling summer's arrival. Even among the few cherry tree species that produce sweet, edible cherries, not all the fruits share the same qualities despite appearing similar when we see them bagged at the supermarket; each has its own distinct character. As we painted them, we noted the spectrum: some cherries deep crimson bordering black, others lighter red, the rainier kind blushing. Each of us translated these nuances differently, applying our personal experience and style. Just as we noted all these variations, we also extended these reflections to the mundane moments in our lives that seem routine but are, in fact, so unique. This effort to focus on diversity enriched our appreciation for the natural cycles, making painting cherries in June a journey attuned to life's nuances and possibilities. A perfect escape and refuge.

We also learned quite a few things about the physicality of cherry architecture. They are not round like balls or inflated like pool toys; they possess a distinctive shape with lobes crowning their top area and a remarkably svelte bottom. You can always see their side split, the 'cherry dimple.' The proportionally thin and long stems are anchored in a soft indentation, cratering below that wavy, lobed crown, resembling a quasi-orifice. And they always come with it. It's like when they are picked, the cherry tree lets them go with that graceful arm, not by themselves. Capturing these subtle details required reshaping their form numerous times throughout the process; it was quite the challenge, demanding keen observation and the flexibility to revisit our initial impressions several times. Then there was the matter of color. Cherries are not the simplistic red we often imagine unless they are caramelized and colorized to adorn white cakes. There is an undercurrent of blue within that red, leading us to use Alizarin Crimson as our base. In our study of Wayne Thiebaud's stunning cherry paintings, we noted the significant blue overtones he incorporated. Our focus on exploring the color of cherries turned into a journey of discovery, making us keenly aware of anything with a cherry hue around us: cherry fabric, cherry lipstick, cherry furniture. Such a perfect shade to bask in during the radiant summer months. And finally, there was the sheen. Their taut and shiny skin reflects light in a manner that adds complexity to their deceptively predictable appearance, capturing the immediacy of the present moment. This luminous quality was truly the cherry on top (sorry, we couldn't help using the pun ) during our painting process, adding depth and realism to our work. The sensuousness of the sheen spot brought us back to Philip Guston's fascination with cherries. During his transition from abstraction to figuration, Guston frequently depicted these fruits, their reflective surfaces mirroring his own artistic evolution. As he drew inspiration from the everyday objects around him, the seductive charm of the cherries' glossy skin provided a perfect subject for exploring the interplay between light, color, and form. Perhaps it was also a good subject because, during that period, he only painted with three colors: white, black, and pink, not red. This reflective quality, both literal and metaphorical, also became a central theme in our 'cherry paintings,' challenging us to capture the unassuming beauty that Guston himself had once sought. Working on this subject will forever cement the notion that June is not only the month when we celebrate Pride but also when hydrangeas bloom, and now, the month of cherries. The transition from the warm yellows of May, which we embraced for our self-portraits, to the rich reds of June has been a deeply satisfying change of palette. This chromatic turn of the page has not only mirrored the natural world's shift but has also brought a sense of renewal and excitement to our practice. Speaking of turning the page and changing palettes, we find ourselves now at the midpoint of the year, prompting us to reflect on the six subjects we have explored since January and exchange our favorites. By the way, for reference, we decided early in the year to count 2024, not in months but in paintings. This approach has allowed us to move away from conventional timekeeping and instead measure our year through the lens of our creative output. It has been liberating, helping us shift focus from the rigid structure of days, weeks, and events to more meaningful and inspiring painting-based cycles.

P.S. This month, we were also inspired to create a Pinterest board to indulge in the joy of adding images of the fruit that captivated us throughout June, revealing the myriad ways cherries permeate artistic expression and daily life. We included examples of paintings, graphic design, and various other forms of art to illustrate how this humble fruit is more ubiquitous than we might think.

[sunrenity]

small things ✶ nishimura riki

s — he loves all the small things you do.

p  boyfriend! riki x fem! reader  .  g  fluff, comfort, high school au, est relationship  .  wc  503 (0.5k)  .  bookshelf

NISHIMURA RIKI SAT IN the back of the classroom, his eyes fixed on you as you worked on your assignment. he noticed the way you chewed on the end of your pen when you were deep in thought, the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration. every little thing you did seemed to captivate him. to everyone else, you were just another student, but to him, you were the most enchanting person in the world.

after the final bell rang, you both walked to the nearby park, your hands brushing together occasionally, sending sparks up his spine. the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything. he loved how your eyes seemed to reflect the light, making them look like pools of molten honey.

as you chatted about your day, your laughter rang out, clear and melodious. riki couldn’t help but smile every time he heard it. you talked about the latest book you were reading, your excitement palpable. he loved how passionate you were about the things you cared about, how your whole face lit up when you spoke.

you found a spot under a cherry blossom tree and sat down together. the gentle breeze sent pink petals swirling around you, some landing softly in your hair. riki reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he gently removed a petal. his touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment.

“you always notice the little things,” you said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

riki's heart raced at your words. “it’s because every little thing about you matters to me,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

you leaned against his shoulder, your head resting comfortably there. the warmth of your presence seeped into him, filling him with a sense of contentment he had never known before. he loved how perfectly you fit against him, as if you were made to be right there, in that moment, with him.

the two of you sat in companionable silence, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of happiness. riki marveled at how the simplest things — your laughter, your touch, the way you looked at him — could make him feel so profoundly happy.

as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, you sighed contentedly. “i love moments like this,” you said softly.

riki turned to look at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “me too,” he murmured. “especially when they’re with you.”

in that moment, surrounded by the gentle fall of cherry blossoms and the twilight glow, riki realized that he didn’t just love you; he loved every little thing about you. and he knew that as long as he had you by his side, he would always find joy in the smallest, most seemingly insignificant details, because they were what made you uniquely and wonderfully you.

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[calillaeistria]

In a garden of blossoms, where whispers of wind intertwine with the delicate scent of cherry blossoms, there emerges a girl with a visage akin to an enchanted doll. Her eyes, pools of twilight, reflect the mystique of moonlit dreams. Petals cascade from her hair like the poetry of a springtime sonnet, framing a face that mirrors the ethereal beauty of nature's fleeting moments. She, the cherry girl, dances with grace, her every step a waltz with the unseen forces of magic. A doll face, porcelain and pretty, painted by the hands of whimsical muses, bewitches all who chance upon her enchanted presence.