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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

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desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz @stayverse @districtninewriters @kpopscape @skzwritersclub + @sunoo-luvs @sleepylixie @rae-blogging @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah @p2q3r4 @baby-innie (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

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dossi-io · 3 years ago

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An introduction to DeVita

Do you want to learn all about the AOMG artist DeVita? This article will cover everything you need to know about the third female member to join the labels roster.

The content of this article is also available in video format, embedded at the bottom of this article.

Prelude

In early April of 2020, the Korean hip-hop label AOMG ambiguously announced that a new artist was signing onto the label. This label was grounded by the Korean-American triple-threat; Jay Park, who’s also one of its executives. This is a label with a very organic feel and artist-oriented nature, which stands out compared to many other music labels.

On April 3rd, the label’s official Instagram account posted a video. It was titled, “Who’s The Next AOMG?” where fellow AOMG members talked about this upcoming recruit. They sprinkled small hints and details by sharing their thoughts on the artist without mentioning who.

Around the world, fans immediately began speculating on who this could be. The major consensus was that it had to be the solo artist Lee Hi, due to reporting like this: “AOMG responds ‘nothing is confirmed’ to reports of Lee Hi signing on with the label”

A few other names got thrown in fan speculations like Hanbin (B.I), previous member of IKON, Jvcki Wai, and MOON (문) aka Moon Sujin. This despite a few of these already being signed to other labels.

On April 6th, three days later, the account was updated with a part two. This time dropping more hints, which would exclude many names from fan speculations.

On the 7th of April, the label’s official Instagram account posted a short teaser. The video sported an 80’s retrofuturistic setting, with a woman turned from the camera, dressed in all black, rocking braids, and some glistening high-heels. As it seemed to be a female, some were now certain that it had to be Lee Hi. A small few actually guessed correctly that the one who would be joining AOMG would be Ms DeVita.

Finally on April 9th, it was official! She debuted with the music video, from which the teaser clips was taken from, EVITA!, which accompanied the release of her EP, CRÈME.

What does the name DeVita mean?

The name DeVita, draws inspiration and meaning from two things. Firstly, Eva Perón – also known as Evita – who was Argentina’s former First Lady. When Chloe was learning about Eva’s life, it inspired her to combine “Devil” and “Evita”, thus creating “DeVita”. The name signifies the duality of how both Eva Perón and DeVita could be perceived. Either being a devil, or an angel depending on the eye of the beholder. Secondly, Salvatore Di Vita, a character from Cinema Paradiso, was also a source of inspiration.

An introduction to DeVita

Chloe Cho – now known under the artist name DeVita – was born and raised in South Korea, until the age of eleven. In 2009, she moved to Chicago, where she would learn English.

In 2013, she went back to Korea and participated in the third season of the show; K-pop Star. A talent show, where the “big three” (the three largest music labels in Korea) hosts auditions to find the next big k-pop star. However she didn’t win, therefore neither got signed.

Later on, she returned to Chicago and graduated high school. After reflecting on what she wanted to do next, she decided to make music. In 2014, her pursuit to become an artist brought her to the talent show Kollaboration. On this show, she performed covers and actually ended up being a finalist. Despite her talents, she did not triumph as the winner of the show.

Not letting these losses stop her, she started releasing music on Soundcloud. The earliest release I could find, Halfway Love (Ruff), was from 2016. Her catalogue consisted of both covers and original music.

One day, Kirin, an artist and CEO of the music label 8balltown Records, was introduced to DeVita’s music. He liked what he heard and the two linked up. In May of 2018, WEKEYZ, one of 8balltown’s producer duos released a track titled Sugar. This track featured both DeVita, and the AOMG rapper Ugly Duck. This was the beginning of many collaborations to come.

On August 28th of 2018, just a few months later, AOMG released Sugar (Puff Daehee Mix).

This was a remix done by Puff Daehee, the alter ego of Kirin. Along with this track, it was accompanied by a music video starring Kirin, DeVita, and Ugly Duck. For most people, this was their first time seeing DeVita.

DeVita continued doing features on many songs by Korean artists while creating a little buzz for herself. There’s one notable feature, which could be seen as an important milestone in her career. That is her feature on the track Noise, from AOMG artist Woo Won Jae’s project, titled af.

In a tweet a few days after the release of CRÈME, she shared the significance of this moment.

“I was still making minimum wage working at a restaurant back when Noise dropped- I wrote my part during my shift on the back of this receipt paper. This was about a year and a half ago. A little bit after that I got a call from Pumpkin at 3am Chicago time. He said Jay wanted to meet in Philly in 4 hours. They put me on a plane and the rest is history.”

The phone call she mentioned in her tweet, about Jay wanting to meet, must have been made around September 2018. Jay was performing in Philadelphia at the time. The moment they met in Philadelphia was actually captured through a photo of the two. However, this picture ended up getting removed later on.

Fast forward a few months and Jay had just released his Ask About Me EP. The project focused on a western audience, so he went to the States on a promo run. During his visit, he also met up with DeVita once again, as can be seen here.

Finally, on April 9th, her being signed to AOMG was officially announced and she debuted with her EP titled CRÈME. Her joining AOMG, looked like something that happened pretty naturally. The vast majority of artists she had collaborated on tracks with happened to be AOMG members. Getting comfortable with the AOMG family, likely made the decision to join crystal clear.

Artistically

Just a quick look at her body of work thus far, a majority of it is in English. However, she has no issues singing in Korean, as proven by her feature on Code Kunst’s; Let u in. The tone in her voice has this sort of mixture of many singers, a melting pot of sorts. It reminds me of Audrey Nuna, SAAY, H.E.R, some vocal riffs from Dinah Jane, and at times, just a tiny bit of Ariana Grande.

As an artist, she’s still in the early stages of carving out her own unique sound and style. There’s incredible potential here, but her distinct identity is not completely there yet. I see before me a caterpillar that within a couple years, will transform into a butterfly, with its own identifiable pattern to spread its wings out on.

From what she’s shown so far, I would say she seems most comfortable doing R&B and soul music. However, beyond a quick description I prefer to refrain from categorizing her. Mostly because artists generally feel limited when categorized. More importantly, because we have no idea what she has in store for the future.

Debut EP: CRÈME

CRÈME is DeVita’s “crème de la crème”. She constantly modified the tracklist to present her debut project in a way that held her personal standard; essentially presenting us her best tracks. The result is CRÈME, which consists of five tracks, with a runtime of fourteen minutes altogether.

This EP showcases the fact that she is a competent songwriter, able to write some soulful, emotional ballads. It is completely in English and all the tracks are written by her, telling both life stories of her own and that of others. A majority of the production was handled by her “musical soulmate”; TE RIM, but other notable names, like Code Kunst show up as well.

Tracks:

Movies, introduces the project in a very gentle manner. In the track, DeVita paints a picture of a criminal couple, getting a rush, by committing crimes together. The lyrics feel inspired by movies like Bonnie and Clyde. My initial thoughts were that, for some ears, it could possibly be “too” calm as an opener. It doesn’t demand attention the way EVITA! does. Simply put, it’s not a bad track. I would just have put this track later on in the EP.

EVITA!, is something different compared to what I hear from others in the K-R&B lane. I love the 80’s aesthetic in both the track and music video. Sonically, the nostalgic saxophone riffs, warm lush synth pads, thumping bass line, results in a trip back to the 80s. With this recipe, topped with DeVita’s “current” contemporary soul and R&B voice makes for an interesting combination. The music video had that futuristic 80’s look with the neon colors, and I loved how the guns she played around with looked a lot like the “Needlers” from the Halo franchise. The title is once again just like DeVita’s name, an ode to the controversial Eva Perón. The instrumental was originally used by TE RIM, the producer of the track in 2017. His version has the same title as DeVita’s version and I recommend giving that one a listen as well, as it has a different feel to it. This track was definitely one of the highlights of the EP.

All About You, is a simple yet beautiful piano love ballad. Originating from her own tales of love, her vocals effortlessly capture what she felt during these moments.

1974 Live, is yet another ballad, but this time, with a calm guitar backing, playing a poppier R&B chord progression. DeVita’s voice is given a lot of space to be in the center of the track. As soon as I heard this track I became curious. What was the significance of this year, which would have her title the track as such? My questions were left unanswered… until the EP had marinated a while, when she tweeted: “1974 Live is about Christine Chubbuck”. In case you’re unfamiliar, Christine Chubbuck was a television news reporter, who made history in 1974. She was the first person to commit suicide live on air. According to her mother Christine’s suicide would on paper be due to an unfullfilling personal life. All throughout her life, she had experienced unreciprocated love. With this information tying back to the track, it becomes a lot less ambiguous and reveals a more cohesive narrative.

Show Me, is the final track of the EP, featuring immaculate production from the talented CODE KUNST. The sound is very moody, which fits her voice like a glove. This is my favorite performance on the entire EP, both lyrically and vocally. The lyrics present someone who’s fed up dealing with men, who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Now she’s looking for love with someone who’s honest and “real”.

With the project being a year old now, it has already gotten her nominated for both Rookie of the Year along with EVITA being nominated for Best R&B & Soul Track in the 18th iteration of the Korean Music Awards.

A majority of listeners seemed to enjoy the project. Many seem to be in love with her voice judging by the endless amounts of praise she has received, often described as painfully addicting, soothing, smooth, and so on.

I also asked a friend who’s a huge fan of Korean music, especially the hiphop and r&b scene to share her thoughts on the project. Here’s what she said:

"This whole project is empowering, in particular the tracks Show Me and EVITA! DeVita being a new artist, managed to impress me and many more listeners through this EP. As mentioned earlier, empowering lyrics with unique melodies and beats. Especially with the track EVITA! The fact that 1974 Live and EVITA! was referring to, two historically important women, is something that I love. This is one of my favorite EP:s of 2020 and DeVita is now included in my list of favorite artists." @Haonsmom

From what I’ve seen, only a few have been vocal about not really being too fond of the project. Some were left a bit disappointed, as they were expecting more hip-hop and R&B from an AOMG artist. The lack of “danceable” tracks was also a concern to some. Despite these criticisms, one thing was always mentioned; the girl has a beautiful voice and is obviously talented.

After listening to this EP, I hear a lot of potential. Being an EP with just five tracks, it definitely avoids overstaying its welcome. It’s brief enough to allow a listen through the entire project, no matter what you’re doing. My favorite tracks would have to be Show Me and EVITA!, but I found the whole project to be enjoyable. This EP is sprinkled with lovely vocal performances and simple but captivating production. I do still stand by my opinion that Movies would have fit better later in the tracklist if you’re chasing that mainstream ear.

I think the way EVITA! kicks you in the face, demanding attention, would’ve been a better fit as the opening track. In contrast to the other tracks, the energy level is unique, making the placement feel odd as the rest of the tracks have a chill vibe. All in all, this project gave me a taste of the “crème” but left me with a curious yearning for what this chef will whip up for dessert.

Bright future ahead

The addition of more female artists to the AOMG roster was much needed. Hoody was the first and only female member for about four years. This was the case up until late 2019, where she was then joined by sogumm, who had just won AOMG’s audition program called SignHere. Now funnily enough after DeVita, Lee Hi actually did end up officially signing with AOMG on July 22, last year.

Based on what I’ve heard during Devita’s Kollaboration days, she has improved immensely. This topped with her leaving the impression of someone passionate about their craft, bodes well for what's to come. She seems to be someone who'll constantly evolve.

Following an artist, at the early stages of their career, is something that I always find exciting. With such a lovely debut, I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for DeVita.

To view the content of this article in video format simply play the video embedded below.

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Credits:

The first image in article: Original photo, pre-edit from @jinveun

Gif from the Sugar Puff Daehee MV: @moxiepoints

#devita #krnb #jay park #aomg #h1ghrmusic #8balltown #kpop #review #korea #uglyduck #chloe devita #chloe cho #kirin #evita!#crème #moon sujin #khh #korean hip hop #krap

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barnesandco · 4 years ago

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Blame it on the Heartache

A broken woman finds a lost man, and they try to put each other back together.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2020. Word count: approximately 2219. Square filled: “Morning Sex”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, warzones, and one brief mention of persecution of LGBT people in Chechnya. Oh and also smut. Lots of smut (18+ only). It was supposed to be just smut, but then angst happened, and here we are.

A/N: There’s some talk about blame in this fic, and honestly, I blame (and thank) @heli0s-writes, this post, and this one. Also, there will be a part 2 some time next week.

You find him by accident. Kiev bar just after dawn, with wooden bar tops and table tops all rotting with the steady decay of time and too little money, disguises his head of dark hair and grimy outline in a corner booth perfectly but your eyes lock onto the side profile, the slope of his nose and the bow of his lips arching against the light of the snow outside. The Winter Soldier, or the shell he has left behind, sits with a shot glass clutched loosely in a gloved hand, the other one’s fingers decorated with rings.

They’re intriguing things, that you watch closely from the bar, pounding head distracted by the scent of hot chocolate and the jewellery that is both the manifestation of wishes for a prettier life, and the mark of a roughened man at the same time. The light catches on a round ruby set on a silver band on his forefinger. It reminds you of the red star painted on gleaming gray you first saw smuggling political refugees from one warzone into another. The time you were a spy, before you were an activist, before you gave up all hope of NGO pretenses and took things into your own hands, helping people with only the wind to guide you.

Not that you succeeded much. Now, days after desperate depression and harrowing hopelessness thanks to only having managed to rescue half as many queer Chechen teens from their torture cells as intended, you are aching with the weight of your uselessness. The air around you, the tonnes of the morning sky are pressing down on your shoulders, and the whiskey in your hot chocolate is doing little to relieve the tension.

The sorrow is what you will blame, later. Or perhaps, the alcohol, although there is barely a syringe’s worth of it in your system with less than half your mug still empty and going cold quick. You’ll fault the loneliness of decades helping a world that does not want to become better for how you rise from your stool and sit down across from the man who thinks he is a stranger to you.

You’ve read the stories. Seen the videos of the helicarrier falling apart above the Potomac, the camera footage captured by a daring chopper, and the Smithsonian’s exhibit on Bucky Barnes. The eyes staring back at you, calculating, clever, above cutting cheekbones, are the same as the ones on the wall in the museum. He’s had a century of pain and you only tenths of one, but the hurt rings out and resonates clearly, a sonic bell of a distress signal, captured by wandering eyes and inexplicable want.

You wonder what he will blame for his response to you unbuttoning the top of your shirt, and your hand over his. Possibly, the fact that he’s been on the run for a year. A year out of the cryostasis detailed by the files the Black Widow leaked in D.C. A year of running, of being alone and sometimes worse -- only the haunting nightmares for company. Your sympathy, the same one that pushes you to keep at your job when it is forever hopeless, is what pulls your heartstrings closer to him.

His fingers tighten around yours, and you blame desolation. You blame the flaming burn of want that shines from his eyes when he sees a face that is not just friendly, but maybe familiar, too. Something tells you you ought to be scared, as he rises and drops a hryvnia bill on the table, and leaves, still holding your hand, but the strength of his grip deters you. The hold is gentle, calloused, the rings grazing your palm as he adjusts to intertwine your hands, so each metal band comes to rest against the sensitive skin between your fingers. Tight enough to feel coarse skin and trembling desire, but loose enough that you can easily leave. Run. You are not being forced anywhere.

The streets of Kiev become a shimmering, white backdrop to his face that looks even more stunning in the light. How much of your last encounter does he recall, if any? New Mexico, 2001, protection detail for war scarred children who needed to evacuate, one of which was an heir to a throne. A brawl in a market, sweat-sticky sundress flaring furiously, the heat of the American sun no match for that of his arms around you. A dance, a twirling battle, and the gasping from breath in the aftermath was one hell of a challenge. Something that restored your faith in your job.

But you’re far from Albuquerque, now, and are reminded of that fact as he leads you to the polar opposite of a southern tavern. It’s an inn. A quaint, small place, more wood, this one gleaming brown on the walls and the hardwood floors and the mahogany counter, all well kept. He strides past the burning fireplace in the lobby and climbs the stairs two at a time, as you struggle to keep up. Part of your lust-addled brain thinks to joke about how he has you panting before he’s even gotten you in bed.

All thought of laughter evaporates when he shuts the door and presses you against it with his human forearm pressing on your neck. Tight enough to threaten but loose enough to let you breath. Your heart beats faster, the pulse of your veins thrumming a little closer to the surface.

Who are you? he growls in Ukrainian, eyes shifting between threatening and offering little hints of fear. When you do not answer, he asks, who sent you?

The material of his jacket is rough where it pushes into you. You have to fight to speak. “Nobody.” The English makes his eyes widen, and you barely have time to question whether this move killed you or saved you, when he takes his arm off your neck and replaces it with his mouth.

Heavenly heat, hellish white light, blinding ecstasy erupts like a volcano where he begins to devour you like he hasn’t for centuries, for millennia of loneliness, and there, in the innocent hotel room, your head fills with images of everything but. Hands find his hair, knock the woollen hat off his head while his teeth trace a pleasure-trail down your neck and to your collarbone, his fingers clenching on your hips.

You push back, off the door and into the room, standing now, supporting your own weight on weak knees and shaking breath. He steals the last of it you have left when he leaves your collarbone -- a bruise blooming ripely in the color of a plum -- to find your lips, and this, this is what salvation tastes like. Vodka and whiskey and chocolate, on lips chapped but lush and soft beyond the rough exterior. A gasping sound of want released in a hurried exhale between kisses makes him growl from somewhere in his chest.

The vibrations reach your heart, heavy and loud and beating a march of deathly desire on your rib cage. You hold onto him with tight fists, like he will float away, because this is the only way to let go. There is a reassurance, in his hands clutching your jeans tighter, that he isn’t leaving. His fingers slip under your sweater, and then under your shirt, and you break away with a gasp as cold metal -- full hand on one side, and slim rings on the other -- meets your skin.

Then you press his hands to you tighter, let him tear your upper layers away, tug his jacket and sweater off his shoulders as he becomes well acquainted with the tops of your breasts, the parts visible above your bra. Head bowed in sacred confession, he finds rescue in your body, skin shining in the light of the beginning day behind you. A new start.

A new hiding place, he goes down on both knees, laving at your belly button, leaving you spit-shiny and cooling in the chilly air. He takes your jeans off slowly, a contrast to every other step made so far, and mouths at your mound, soaking your underwear further with slow, maddening movements of his tongue. You’ve had enough. This buzzing heat has turned to forest fire in your pulse, and you take your bra off and pull him up and towards you.

His chest is warm against you when you fall back against the bed, his weight recognizable. The Soldier -- James, you think, for now -- buries himself in your neck with a renewed vigor. Begins to move down your body to the apex of your thighs, where you are wet. Dripping, soaking wet, just for him. The first touch of his tongue to your honey-sweet slick is an electric spark, and he lights you up like the fourth of July with every touch after. Fireworks in your irises mirror the flames licking up your spine, and his eyes meet yours when he opens them in moments of reprieve from enjoying the taste of you.

Purgatory, this limbo between right and wrong, is the closest you have been to joy in as long as you can remember. It aches in your limbs as you inch closer to the cliff’s edge of delectable joy.

“Enough,” you say, when you ache for more, when you are empty and wanting only him inside of you, all of him, and he moves away. Trepidation in his eyes at the thought of being pushed away evaporates when you pull him back, the flow of your pushes and pulls echoing with the power of the moon, and how it brings the waves to lap at the land a reflection of how James’ chest meets yours when you have opened the buttons of his shirt.

It hangs open, a curtain around you, and you dexterously strip him of his jeans as well, toes pushing at the waistband and belt falling off the bed with a clink that sounds like the final nail in the coffin. You’ll gladly die a little death here, if he’s the executioner.

His cock is leaking with arousal, hard against the lines of his abdomen begin to smear a shiny trail against you as well, and you take him in hand and he groans. Throbbing hot in your hand, velvet heat over solid steel hardness, and you spit in your hand before slicking him up a little more, his moans louder and unreserved in your clavicle, teeth grazing the spots he has made tender.

Desperate man. Lonely, sweet, sad man. Your heart aches for him, and you want to give him more than his cruel lifetimes have so far. You want to give him warmth, starting with the warmth of your silk body, as he slips inside of you, slumping, his forehead pressing into your shoulders and murmuring what you think is a prayer into you.

His hands are moving with feverish intensity over you, metal warmer now, as he throbs and pulses and then adjusts to your heat. All that while, you hold him. Hands first over his shoulder blades, then moving your right hand to his left, slipping under his hold on the sheets to entwine his fingers with yours the way he did in the street that feels miles below wherever you’re flying.

He’s so big, and you are so full, nerves prickling with electrostatic lust, that you have to focus on the swell of him above you, the hand holding yours and the shape of the rings on his fingers not to lose it right there. Then he starts moving.

And you’ll swear you’ve never felt true bliss before this moment, because James moving inside you, with slow thrusts, stretching your walls in delightful pain, is a luxury you’ve never lived before. Stealing your breath, his pace picks up, and you feel every ridge along his length on the inside of your body. Fire pools in your belly, and his hand is drawn to it. He supports himself on his metal arm, and trails the other down your torso. Obsidian shimmers on his ring finger and there is the unmistakable wink of vibranium on his little finger, as his hand dips lower to your clit, and you watch the spot where he moves in and out.

Lascivious eyes watch you watch his fingers circle your nub, tracing the path to your gratification, and they shine when you mewl, arching up, circling your hips. Climbing higher and higher, he moves faster, hits a spot in you that burns brighter than the Sun rising in the sky, and everything explodes in a supernova of heat, color behind your eyelids and warmth flooding your insides as he spills deep, growls against your throat, hand clutching your wrist when he falls forward.

You are marked up in his artistry, a painting of pleasure in the mouth-made bruises on your neck and the fingerprints on your hips, and the circular indentations from his rings on your neck. He softens inside you, as you overflow with your combined pleasures, and you hum against the crown of his head, as you run your fingers through his scalp. Sated man, grateful man, miracle pleasure, purring in your arms, too dangerous to keep, but too comfortable a weight to let go of so soon.

#ayesha writes #SSB2020 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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justjeonday · 5 years ago

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Always you | jeon jeongguk

You usually hate walking to the convenience store, but with Jeongguk it’s anything but boring.

— pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

— genre: established relationship, fluff - so much fluff, boyfriend!jeongguk

— word count: 2,690

— warnings: none

— notes: so, this is my first time ever posting something I’ve written on here - and I’m really nervous. Idk if I’ve done all of this right lol, I tried. I spent a few days working on this piece, and it’s nothing huge or anything - just a simple idea that popped into my head. I hope you enjoy, feedback is very welcome. Thank you :’)

— disclaimer(?): I spell ”Jungkook” as Jeongguk throughout this whole thing, cause that’s just how I naturally tend to spell it out. I hope this won’t bother anyone, if it does I’m sorry lol. I also apologize for any typos, it feels like I might’ve missed some although I looked through it multiple times.

Your boyfriend’s hot breath against your neck leaves goosebumps rising on your skin, but you manage to ignore it - waiting for the woman behind the desk to pack your bag. However, just a few seconds later you feel him leaving light kisses over the most sensitive area just below your ear. You turn slightly to nudge him away with your shoulder.

”Will you stop it?” You whisper as you look at him.

Jeongguk just looks back at you with amusement visible on his face. He sure loves teasing you in public. You snicker at him, shaking your head as you turn back to grab the bag of snacks the cashier is holding out for you. You thank her and make your way out of the small store, Jeongguk following closely behind.

”I’ll take that for you,” He insists, taking the bag from your hand before you can protest.

The cold air hits you just as hard as when you left your apartment twenty minutes ago, causing you to shiver as you step outside.

Snow had been falling ever since this morning, a white blanket now covering the ground beneath you. It looks beautiful, sparkling as the city lights reaches the surface of it. It’s rare snow actually stays on the ground here in Seoul, only occurring once or twice a year. You love it like this. Even though the temperature feels unbearable at times, with the weather getting colder it prompts for a lot of cuddling.

And in your opinion, there can never be enough cuddling.

In fact, before this very spontaneous adventure to the store you and Jeongguk had been cuddling while enjoying some random K-drama you found. After watching the two main characters share a bag of snacks, the two of you started craving just that.

”Should we go?” Jeongguk had asked, shifting his head in your lap to look up at you.

You removed your hand from his hair, reaching out to check the time on your phone.

11:39.

You looked down at him. ”Should we?”

After much contemplating whether you should go or not, you guys put your jackets on - getting ready to go to a nearby convenience store despite the fact that it was close to midnight by the time you guys left.

You’re now on your way back home, walking side by side with interlaced fingers. Seoul at night is probably one of your favorite things. You love how all the lights and neon signs beautifully illuminate the world around you, how they gracefully dance across Jeongguk’s honey-colored skin.

”Wait.”

You stop at your boyfriend’s sudden demand, turning to him in confusion.

You see him searching for something in the pockets of his jacket. ”What’s wrong?” You say.

A few seconds later, you see his fingers wrapped around his vintage camera. In spite of the smile sneaking its way onto your lips, you roll your eyes at him. ”Really?”

”What?” He says, smiling.

”When did you even manage to bring that thing?”

”This thing happens to be my favorite camera, do you know what I use it for?” He begins, fiddling with it as he speaks.

You raise your eyebrows questioningly, gesturing for him to continue.

”I use it to capture things I find beautiful-” He says, eyes locking with yours. ”- Being with someone as beautiful as you, I’ll always have it with me.”

He looks at you with a smirk on his lips, knowing you’ll be blushing at his words. You do, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks as your heart swells in awe. You truly feel as if you don’t deserve someone as good as him, but oh how happy you are that the two of you found each other. With him you feel like the luckiest person walking this earth.

”Now smile for me please,” He brings the camera up in front of his face, ready to take a photo.

You do as told, letting him take all the pictures he desires before intertwining your fingers with his again and continuing your walk home. You never really like being in photos, but since you started dating Jeongguk you’ve gotten used to him randomly wanting to take photos of you. Even if that’s in the morning when you’re making breakfast, your hair still a mess — you let him take a photo, knowing he’ll keep it to himself unless you give him consent to do otherwise.

It makes you feel special, like you’re one of a kind.

”Ah, cold,” Your boyfriend says, sucking in air through gritted teeth and holding your hand tighter.

You look at him, a giggle escaping your lips. ”I told you to wear your gloves.”

”I couldn’t find them,” He says with a frown forming on his face. ”How come your hands never get cold?” He pouts.

It’s kind of strange actually, how rare it is your hands get cold.

”I don’t know,” You laugh.

”It’s so unfair, I bet you have superpowers or something.”

”Like what?”

”Heat manipulation.”

”How epic, feel free to use me as your personal hot pack!” You joke.

He laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back — his eyes becoming crescent moons. You automatically smile at the sound, happy you made him laugh.

”I can carry the bag if you want,” You offer, holding your hand out.

”No need,” He chuckles, only pulling you closer into his side.

You think nothing of it until you feel his fingers creep up the inside of your jacket and under the fabric of your, or should you say, his hoodie. As he lays his hand flat against the warm skin of your lower back, you squirm and jump away from him in response.

”What’s the matter?” He says, a made-up look of innocence on his face.

You just frown at him for a moment, but with it being impossible to act annoyed at his adorable ways — you let out a laugh before proceeding to walk. ”You can’t do that.”

”Why can’t I?”

”Your hands feel like ice,” You say. ”I’m not kidding.”

”I thought you said I could use you as my personal hot pack,” He says, acting disappointed as he looks down at his feet.

You push him playfully. ”You are so annoying, Jeon Jeongguk.”

He chuckles and walks past you with his arms stretched out. ”But you love me anyway,” He sings.

But you love him anyway, of course you do.

Deciding to get revenge, you lean down to pick some snow up from the ground. You form it into a ball, then you aim and throw it at his back. He stops in his tracks, turning around with a mischievous grin on his lips.

”Oh love, I hope you realise what you’ve just started.”

It’s a stupid idea really because you know very well that he’ll win, he always does. He has this annoying tendency of being above average at anything he does, even when it’s his first time doing it. Although, being the sweet boyfriend he is — he lets you win sometimes.

Before you know it you’re both running around outside your apartment complex throwing snowballs at each other, the bag of snacks left in the snow at the side of the street. You earn a few looks from people walking past, most of them just in wonder of what’s going on. It’s probably not so often you come across to adults running around in the middle of the street having a snowball fight, let alone in the middle of the night.

While you’re leaning down to make yet another snowball, you feel Jeongguk behind you. He grabs the collar of the hoodie you’re wearing, pushing it aside and letting the snow in his hand fall down the inside of it — the cold coming in contact with your skin. You squeal and start chasing after him with snow in your hands, and a few seconds later you manage to copy his actions.

He hisses as the snow falls down inside of his shirt, capturing you in his embrace before you can run away again. ”Caught you,” He says, smiling.

The both of you are breathing heavily, your breaths visible in the cold air surrounding you. As your chest is pressed against his you feel your heartbeats becoming one. You put your arms around his neck and look up at him, his bunny smile making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

Even though you’ve been with him for what seems like forever, not really remembering what life was like without him — everything with him still feels like the first time. You still feel your heart skip a beat every time he enters the room, butterflies going crazy in your stomach at the sight of his smile and the sound of his laugh. You still get lost in the galaxies that are his eyes, and every time you look into them you swear you see stars shining in them. Like people look at stars scattered in the dark above, you look into his eyes - and that’s your way of stargazing. At every little thing you can feel yourself falling in love with him over and over, and there never seems to be an end to it.

”What’s on your mind?” He asks, noticing you’ve wandered off somewhere in your mind.

”You,” You say, looking at him with a small smile on your lips. You run your thumb along his cheekbone softy. ”Always you.”

His nose and cheeks had been painted a shade of pink because of the cold, making him look even more adorable — if even possible. You put your hands on each side of his face, cupping his cheeks before leaning up to press your lips against his. He instantly kisses you back, exhaling through his nose as if he’d been waiting for it to happen. You can’t help but smile into the kiss. Warmth spreads throughout your body, the cold air around you suddenly becoming less cold. You then pull away, having to catch your breath.

You run your fingers through his hair, your forehead pressed against his. ”We should probably get inside before we catch a cold.”

He just hums in response as he lets his eyes flutter open. He licks his lips, the taste of your raspberry lip balm still lingering on them.

After making sure to remember the bag of snacks you initially had come outside for, the two of you head inside. You shiver as the warm air inside engulfs you. You’re quick to get out of your outerwear and run into your bedroom, wanting to get rid of your hoodie — in which is now soaked at your lower back. You undress deciding to steal one of Jeongguk’s shirts. You put it on, and with the hem falling just above your knees you figure you’re in no need of pants.

As you’re about to leave you bump into Jeongguk’s bare chest, the shirt he had been wearing earlier now in his hand. He stands in front of you with exposed abs and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

Now the sight of this — you can confirm — is more mouth-watering than any snack in that bag.

You tear your gaze from his body as you hear his voice, eyes meeting his.

”Hey you, I was about to ask if you happen to know where me long sleeve is,” He says. ”But it appears someone stole it,” He nudges a finger against your side.

You grin. ”You don’t need it,” You argue as you walk past him, heading towards the sofa.

”And why’s that?”

”You look better without clothes.”

”Oh, if that’s the case you don’t need it either then,” He steps in front of you, stopping you from reaching your longed for destination.

”I can’t just walk around in my underwear,” You laugh.

”Sure you can,” He says, a smirk on his lips.

You hit his chest. ”Shut up.”

He picks you up by grabbing the back of your thighs, making you squeal and put your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the sofa and let’s you fall onto your back on top of it, then he lays down next to you.

You gasp.

Jeongguk looks at you with worry in his eyes. ”What?”

”The lights need to be turned off,” You say, gesturing to the light above you. ”Technically, you laid down last so that means you have to go turn them off.”

He groans, but gets up to turn them off nonetheless — making you smile in satisfaction. On his way back he brings the bag of snacks, placing it on the coffee table. He lays down next to you again and reaches over for the remote to press play. Shadows start dancing around the room as the K-drama starts playing. Jeongguk sighs as he cuddles into your side, laying his head on your chest and pulling the covers over the both of you.

You lay like that for a while, legs tangeled, sharing snacks and making stupid jokes about the things you see happening on the TV — laughing at stuff that wouldn’t have been funny if it weren’t for the lack of sleep. After a few episodes you can tell the late hours are getting to your boyfriend as you notice him getting quieter, his breaths slowly becoming deeper.

You too feel your eyelids getting heavier so you grab the remote to turn the TV off, then gently placing it on the coffee table. You get yourself comfortable, but you soon realise you’ve left your phone in the bedroom — making you sigh in frustration. Despite the very comfy state you’re in, you decide it’s best to go and get it in case your boss gets the idea to call you in the morning.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, carefully pushing Jeongguk so his head falls softly onto the pillow next to you before you lift his arm off of your waist. Trying your best not to stir him out of his sleep, you sit up slowly but realise you’ve failed as he groans and brings his arm around your waist — pulling you back down next to him.

”Jeongguk, I have to go get my phone,” You whisper, trying to remove his arm yet again.

”Nooo,” He whines, putting his leg over your hips under the covers.

You can’t leave, even if you try.

”I have to,” You say.

”Please don’t,” He pouts.

”I’ll be quick I promise.”

And with that he let’s you go against his will, keeping the pout on his lips. You try to keep your promise, being as quick as you can despite your eyes not really being adjusted to the darkness yet.

You luckily get to the bedroom without stumbling over something, fumbling to grab your phone that you had thrown on the bed earlier. After finally finding it under a pillow, you make your way back to the sofa.

Jeongguk immediately puts his arm around you as you lay back down next to him, laying his head on your shoulder.

”Missed you,” He says with sleep laced in his voice, making you chuckle.

”I was only gone for a few minutes, Gguk.”

Half asleep, he shifts so he’s lying on his side and pulling you against him so your chest is pressed against his. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck before leaving a few light kisses just under your jaw. You put your arms around him and bring a hand up to run your fingers through his hair. Your other hand draws circles on his back, your fingertips delicately skimming over his soft skin. You feel his body relax against you, a sigh escaping past his lips — his breath hot against your skin.

You could stay like this forever, close to him like this while just enjoying the presence of each other. You kiss his shoulder before laying your head against his, feeling the melatonin take over you once again.

”I love you,” Jeongguk mumbles into your neck.

You smile. ”I love you too.”

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hollymcinallyba3photo · 4 years ago

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Lost and Found - Inspiration (pre production)

Analyse 5 creative manipulation images using locations

Jean-Charles Debroize

Jean-Charles Debroize is a French artist who works for Kerozen. He is an art director and does digital retouching.

Image analysis

This image has been created using Mountains as the location. I think some of this successful parts in this image are the use of perspective and lighting. The artist has made sure to use the same perspective and lighting so that nothing in the image looks odd or out of place. The lighting is quite soft and diffused.

Evgenij Soloviev

Evgenij is a digital graphic designer and illustrator from Russia. He Specializes in photo manipulation, surrealism and graphic design.

Image analysis

I chose this image because of the way the artist used the dark cloudy sky and then placed the pianos flying in the sky. The use of shape and form works well within the image. I also think the fact that There is a person standing on the building is cool. It as if looking up in to a sky filled with sound

Erik johansson

Erik Johansson is a photographer and visual artist from Sweden. He is currently based in Prague. His work is creating a surreal world made from combining different photographs. Erik works on both personal and commissioned projects with exhibitions and clients all around the world. His approach to photography is unconventional he doesn't capture moments, he captures ideas with the help of his camera and imagination. He tries to capture the impossible.

Image analysis

Left image(moon): I chose this image because of the use of colour and light. The photographer has used. I like the concept of the person hanging the moon. The background works well in the image. I think the concept of someone hanging the moon as if it’s a light. Just makes me happy. I think the idea is just well thought out and the colours work well to compliment each other

Middle image(House): I chose this image because of the concept of “two different worlds” that life isn't always what people show. It can be different under the surface. I like the use of reflection. I like the concept.

Right image(clock): I think some of the key successes in the image are the use of perspective and colour. These both are equal and complement one another. In my opinion the image makes me think of being by the sea and how time stops for me. It's peaceful. Life passes you by.

Andric Ljubodrag

Andric’s approach is trying to create a combination of visual simplicity and refined mood. While using surreal concepts

Image analysis

I was drawn to this image again because of the colour, I think some of the key successes of this image are the lighting and perspective. The artist has used the elements to make the image more realistic.

RichMcCor(paperboyo on Instagram)

He is a photographer from London who creates art using his surroundings, a camera and paper cutout silhouettes.

Image analysis

Left image(paint brush) : I chose this image for the colours and location. I love that it looks as if the artist has painted in the light trails. The lighting used makes the image a lot more realistic, the scale used is large and dominating because of the artists hand. I think if the image was converted to B&W it would not have the same atmosphere and effect in the image.

Right image(bike) : I chose this image because I loved the use of perspective and scale, again it is large and dominating. It takes up most of the image. I like the idea of using a drawing/silhouette as the part of the image the photo manipulation stems from.

Sources

#lostandfound #preproduction

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hedwigstalons · 5 years ago

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Inspired by TAG episodes 1.07 and 1.08 about when the code that became Eos was created.

**Before The Dawn**

The room was softly lit, the computer screen in front of him glowing in the gloom. He knew Grandma would probably tell him off and claim he was overstraining his eyes although if she found out he was working at 3am she would be telling him off about more than just his lighting levels.

But this was John’s natural environment. He preferred to inhabit the dark of night. The sounds of campus hushed and muted. Occasionally the noise of a group of students returning from a night out in the city would reach his ears but those in his hall were generally a considerate bunch and he wasn’t often disturbed.

He concentrated on the task in hand. A simple coding assignment set by his tutor. The task wasn’t difficult and he was easily able to work beyond the assignment brief, incorporating of not just the required game theory but also adding in a machine learning feedback mechanism. He might not get extra credit but it would help to keep his GPA up.

The phone on the desk next to him started buzzing, the screen flashing in time to the vibrations. He frowned at the intrusion. Glancing at the name on the screen his frown changed to a look of concern.

Alan.

Wondering what could have driven his youngest sibling to call him in the middle of the night he answered.

“What’s up? Is everything ok?” John’s voice, devoid of pleasantries and greetings, was full of concern and worry. The note of urgency startled Alan. The young face filling the video screen looked shamefaced.

“Everything’s fine. I just wondered if, you know, you wanted to chat. If this is a bad time for you I’ll go.” The tone of anticipated rejection was plain to hear.

“Alan, it’s the middle of the night. If Dad catches you making calls when you should be asleep he will be mad at you. Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Nope. Tomorrow, or rather today, is Saturday so I can sleep in. Anyway, Dad’s away. Again. New York I think, or maybe New Jersey. Either way, he is out of town for a few days. It’s just me and Grandma here.”

So that explained the dejected tone. John popped the phone on a stand that would allow him to stay comfortably in camera range without having to keep hold of the device. He had never been comfortable at making small talk but Alan’s loneliness was evident.

As the youngest in a busy household Alan had been immersed into a home of chaotic noise from birth. He was a being that depended on human contact in a way that John had never fully understood. As the years went on the number living in the Kansas farmhouse diminished as first one brother then another moved out to further their education or careers. After that first and most painful loss, the death of their mother, Alan had felt each departure keenly. Now that Tracy Industries was expanding their father was also increasingly absent and so the youngster, barely a teenager, often just had their grandmother for company.

John took a deep breath and steeled himself to be the big brother that Alan needed. It was plainly evident, even to him, that Alan was feeling rejected. He couldn’t stop some annoyance seeping through though. He didn’t like being disturbed when working.

“So you thought 3am would be a good time to make social calls?”

“It’s only 2am here. And anyway, you’re awake aren’t you?”

“Smart ass.” His tone became more affectionate. It was well known by all the family that John was practically nocturnal. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had to attend classes he would probably give up on the day time completely in order to immerse himself more fully in the stars. “So, if it’s just you and Grandma, where’s Gordon?” He asked even though he was fairly sure of the answer.

“Swim competition; some championship over in Europe. I’ve barely seen him all month. Even when he is here his routine is so locked down he may as well be away. Dad’s enrolled him on some virtual tutoring programme so he can keep up his studies between events. He’s either in the pool, doing online school or sleeping.”

“Yeah, well, olympian in the making and all that. So what have you been up to?”

“The usual. School, tuning my go-kart…recalibrating your telescope.” This last was said with a definite smirk.

“WHAT!”

“Chill out. I’ll have it trained back on the crab nebula before you get home again. Anyway, it’s you who told me about the meteor shower in the first place.”

So that explained the late night phone call. Alan had started showing more than a passing interest in all things celestial and John had been happy to encourage a kindred spirit. Or ‘space nerd’ as Gordon liked to call him. He himself had forgotten the passing meteor shower. His course kept him pretty busy and the light pollution in the city put paid to any recreational astronomy.

A notification pinged up in the corner of his computer screen. Wondering why Alan would be both emailing and calling him at the same time John opened the message.

It looked like Alan had been taking liberties with more than just his telescope. A series of photographs were attached showing the procession of glittering orbs across the black Kansas sky. He knew there was no point even pretending to be cross. His genuine smile at seeing the images had already been captured on camera and relayed back to his kid brother.

“Nice work. You’ll have to take some pictures of the moon and send them to Virgil, he needs some inspiration for his latest project. He’s putting on a play about Helios and Selene”

It was perhaps cruel to open his older brother up to the inevitable teasing that would follow but John needed something to keep the conversation flowing. Virgil had been on at him to take a more holistic approach to university life and had been encouraging him to try out some of the campus societies on offer at Harvard. As if to emphasise the point that university should be about more than just work he had subjected John to a drawn out description of his own activities with an amateur dramatics group at Denver. Telling Alan was pay back for the hour of his life that John would never get back.

To Alan this was prime sibling ammunition. It didn’t matter that Virgil’s role within the group was limited to painting scenery and building sets. The next time Virgil headed home on vacation he would have Alan and Gordon (for this snippet would of course be shared) following him around quoting Shakespeare until he was driven to distraction.

Unfortunately for Alan a badly stifled yawn drew the conversation to a close. John had done his duty in offering the company his brother so desperately craved but he also knew he shouldered some of the collective responsibility in parenting the youngster. Alan was summarily dismissed and sent off to bed.

John made a mental note to contact his two older siblings about Alan’s loneliness. Their father was working hard to build up the business John didn’t want to add another burden to the pile. A few choice words to Scott and Virgil should ensure Alan received more calls and emails than he was currently getting. He returned to his project. His eyes skipped over the lines of code, trying to pick up the threads from where he left off but his mind was wandering with thoughts of Alan, Virgil and greek gods.

He knew it wasn’t his best work but as he had already gone beyond the task he decided it was better to quit while he was ahead rather than risk building in a fundamental error while distracted. John opened the course portal and uploaded the code to his tutor’s submission page.

An error flashed up. Title field required.

Empathetic Operating System

Submit.

John shut down his computer and climbed into bed as the first light of a new day tinged the sky with pink.

#john tracy #alan tracy #eos #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction

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joygaytrash · 6 years ago

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The Best Night(Painter AU)

Word Count: 1727

Notes: @rose-gold-roman Hey!! Logan!! I finished it!! Okay, okay, long story short, Logan and I have a painter au and there’s Remile, Analogical, and Royality in it!! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy~

That night was the best night of all their lives. The three couples had tied the knot once and for all. Logan and Virgil in the morning, Remy and Emile in the afternoon, and Roman and Patton at night. Now, here they were at their reception, surrounded by their friends, family, and co-workers.

Roman was the one who came up with the idea that they should have their wedding on the same day. At first, he wanted the three weddings at the same time that day but after some discussion with the two other couples and his fiance, he finally agreed that the weddings should be at different times that day.

Virgil had dibs the morning slot for his and Logan's wedding so then he could get some extra sleep after his wedding and before Remy's and Emile's wedding. Roman and Patton had claimed the night slot for their wedding because Patton had always wanted to have a wedding with the sunset in the background and Roman couldn't say no to him. So, that left the afternoon slot for Remy's and Emile's wedding but they didn't mind.

"See? I told you combining our weddings was a good idea," Roman bragged. Patton giggled next to him, resting a hand on Roman's arm.

"Well, I will admit, it was a pretty good idea," Logan stated before taking a drink of his wine with a small smirk. Remy bit back a laugh, his obvious smile on his face. Roman only rolled his eyes at them, his smile still evident.

"Roman, your husband is an actual god," Virgil said as he walked back to the table with Emile, "I mean, that cake looks fucking fantastic."

"First off, language. Second off, thank you, Virgil!" Patton exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and giving Virgil a big hug. Virgil laughed, returning Patton's hug. Emile giggled, standing next to Remy's chair.

"Speaking of cake, let's go get a piece. We can do that thing where they shove the cake into each other's mouth," Roman suggested, standing up from his chair.

"Yeah!" Patton cheered, letting go of Virgil and took Roman's hand, pulling him towards the cake. Roman laughed, following his husband to the buffet table. Remy and Emile ran after Roman and Patton. Well, Remy ran after them, he was carrying Emile in his arms bridal style.

"Come on, you nerd, let's get some cake," Virgil said, pulling Logan out of his chair and towards the cake. Logan couldn't help but laugh, following his new husband to the table.

The six of them had gathered around the 6 layered came with the wedding guests gathered behind them. Each layer of the cake was based off each person; Logan's and Virgil's layers were on the top, Remy's and Emile's layers were in the middle, and Roman's and Patton's layers were on the bottom(Virgil may or may not have made a joke about Roman being an actual bottom). Each one of them took a turn cutting a slice, taking it from their husbands' layer.

The second Virgil had a slice of Logan's cake in his hands, he shoved it into Logan's mouth, nearly toppling the man over. After the logical man recovered, he shoved Virgil's cake slice into his mouth, actually making Virgil fall to the ground.

Laughter ripped through the three couples and the wedding guests. The flash of the camera was clear as Thomas captured the event in progress.

"Oh my god, these guys are such gay disasters," Dee commented, resting his elbow on Thomas' shoulder.

Thomas rolled his eyes, looking over at him. "Like you're any better, Dee. You literally stopped functioning last week because of that one barista winked at you," Thomas pointed out, smirking a little.

Dee blushed, puffing out his cheeks a little. "Says the guy who couldn't form proper sentences one time at the store because the cashier was, and I quote, too cute for you to handle," Dee shot back, causing Thomas to glare at him. Dee only smiled innocently at Thomas, but at the same time, stared daggers right into his soul.

"Well, if you excuse me, I'm going to hand out my business cards," Dee stated, disappearing into the crowd. Thomas rolled his eyes just as Roman ran up to him.

"Hey, gimme my camera for a bit! I wanna get some close up pictures!" Roman exclaimed, smiling at his little brother. Thomas chuckled, handing the camera to Roman.

"Here, now go have fun, Ro," Thomas said. Roman laughed and nodded before running back up to the center, his camera hanging from his neck. Thomas couldn't help but smile as he watched Roman have the best time of his life.

***

Dee sighed, leaning up against the wall at the back of the reception hall. He watched the three couples and the other guests yell and cheer. Known fact about Dee; He wasn't one for big events like weddings. But he could stand them if he was familiar with everyone, which he was, in this case.

He sighed again, taking a drink of his water when he heard a young voice.

"How did you get those pretty pictures on your arms?"

Dee looked down and saw a child, probably about 7 or 8, standing in front of him with other children around him.

"Well," Dee crouched down to the child's eye level, "I painted them on my arms myself," Dee explained. The group of children gasps before gathering around Dee and staring in awe at his arms. He chuckled, holding his arms out so they could get a better look at them.

One of the children swiped their hand over one of Dee's tattoos then frowned a little. "How did you keep the paint on your arms? Every time I paint on my arms, the paint comes off," The child asked, looking at Dee.

"Because I used magic paint," He replied. The group of children gasped again and Dee laughed.

"Does that mean you're a fairy?" Another child asked.

"That depends. None of you swear to tell, correct?"

A unison of "correct" came from the group of children and Dee nodded.

"Yes, I am a fairy and I've been sent here to share the beauty of art," Dee stated, smiling down at the children. The group squealed before practically tackling Dee into a hug. Dee laughed as the children laughed, not minding whatever eyes stared at them.

About 10 minutes later, the children's parents called them away and the children whined. Dee had told them they should go with their parents so then one day, he can paint their skin. The children nodded, said goodbye to him before running towards their parents.

"Holy fuck you're great with kids,"

Dee whipped his head around to see Remy standing there, two drinks in hand. He only chuckled, standing up from his crouching position. "I'm not good with kids, they just love the ink. There's a difference," Dee stated.

"I dunno, gurl, it looked like you were having fun too," Remy said, walking over to Dee. Dee scuffed, rolling his eyes at the artist.

"I wasn't having fun, you jackass. I was just keeping the kids distracted, that's all," Dee lied.

"Suuure, gurl, sure. Now, get rid of that plain ass water and have a real drink," Remy responded, shoving one of the drinks in his hand into Dee's hand.

"Thanks," Dee said, taking a drink of the alcohol.

"No problem, gurl,"

***

The reception was starting to die down. Wedding guests were leaving, families were saying one last goodbye before going back home across the country, and Virgil was collecting whatever decent trash was left on the tables, with Logan's help.

"Listen Lo, this will definitely come in handy for a new project, trust me," Virgil argued, smiling like an idiot to his new husband.

Logan followed Virgil to each table with a bin in hand, rolling his eyes a bit. "My moon, you say that with everything else you find and then it ends up collecting dust in our basement," Logan stated. Virgil turned to look at him, pouting slightly.

"But my suuuun, I mean it this time, I promise!" Virgil whined, pouting a little as he wrapped his arms around Logan's neck.

"Okay, fine, we can bring them home,"

"Thanks, my sun. I love you,"

"I love you too, my moon,"

Virgil and Logan shared a small kiss that got interrupted by Roman.

"Hey! That's gross," Roman shouted from across the room. Virgil pulled away and glared at Roman, flipping him off. Logan was quick to put Virgil's middle finger down, gently pushing his towards the table.

"Really Ro, what that necessary?" Patton asked, resting his hand on Roman's shoulder.

"Yes, Patton. Yes, it was," Roman replied, smiling like an idiot. Patton rolled his eyes a little and kissed Roman, humming softly. Roman kissed back, smiling even more like an idiot.

"Hey Roman, that's gross!" Remy mocked as Emile, Dee, and Thomas broke out in laughter next to him. Patton pulled away to join them, his fits of giggles flowing past his lips.

"Wow, I cannot believe that my own husband betrayed me, I think I'm gonna faint," Roman dramatically exclaimed, leaning onto Patton's shoulder with a hand over his own heart. Patton giggled more as he tried to keep Roman from falling.

Minutes later, Virgil and Logan joined the others at the table, setting the bin of trash(or as Virgil called it, art materials) on the floor.

"Well, since we have one more bottle of champagne," Dee grabbed the full bottle from the middle of the table, "Let's celebrate with one last drink before you six venture off tonight for your honeymoons," Dee suggested, being met with whoops and cheers.

Dee laughed and popped the cork off the bottle, sending it somewhere across the reception hall. Laughter broke through the table as Dee filled everyone's glass before sitting down.

"To the newly weds, who start a new journey as husband and husband and to the single pringles, well, better luck next year," Thomas said as he raised his glass. More laughter erupted as everyone else raised their glasses, clinking them against one another. The eight of them spent the rest of their time laughing and joking, sharing their favorite memories of each other, and just straight up hanging out and being friends but also family.

#painter au #Analogical #remy x picani #royality #sanders sides logan #sanders sides virgil #sanders sides remy #sanders sides emile picani #sanders sides dr picani #sanders sides roman #sanders sides patton #sanders sides deceit #sanders sides #thomas sanders #joywrites #joygaytrash

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barefoot-joker · 6 years ago

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Yandere!Ecco X Reader One Shot

Hey, guys and welcome to a Yandere one shot starring Ecco! I apologize if it seems rushed but I hope you enjoy it either way! As always feedback is appreciated and let me know if you’d like to see more. Now...onto the show!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sighed as I sat in bed staring out my window, the moon bright in the sky for the early hours of the morning. It was another restless evening for me as thousands of thoughts ran through my head, all revolving around one despicable woman. She’s not going to find you, Y/n. You haven't been spotted yet. She’s far off your trail and soon you'll be home free with Bruce.

Looking over at my makeshift nightstand I groaned at the time. 3:00 AM. No point in trying to sleep now.

Getting up I pulled on my black overcoat, tall burgundy socks and light tan boots before lacing them up. Grabbing my gun I placed it into its holder around my waist and hid a switchblade in my boot, both I got as a precaution if I ever ran into the twisted female. Taking one last look at my room I headed out into the streets of Gotham, my head lowered and my fingerless gloved hands swinging at my sides. The current place I was staying was near the Dark Zone, the area that Jeremiah and Ecco reigned over. As much as I didn't want to go through it I had to as it was the only way to get to the Green Zone to see Alfred. Walking along the dirty streets I watched as Ecco's minions wandered about, signaling I was in their territory.

I was honestly terrified that one of them would recognize me as I knew she gave every detail about my appearance in hopes of finding me. I frowned. What did I do wrong to gain the attention of one of the most feared women in all of the city?

{Flashback}

It was a lovely afternoon in Gotham, a rare thing indeed. I was at Wayne Enterprises delivering some baked goods to surprise Bruce. I knew he was stressed out lately so I made him his favorites of mine: brownies and angel food cake. I strolled up to the front desk and smiled at the secretary. "Well good afternoon, Miss L/n. What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to see Mr. Wayne. I have some things to drop off."

She typed into her computer and then smiled back up at me. "I'll let him know you're here. You can have a seat while I contact him."

I nodded and went over to the sitting area, joining a young dirty blonde woman. We looked at each other for a brief moment so to be friendly I gave her a smile. She grinned back at me and gave a little wave. Not wanting to be rude I looked down at my hands that wrapped around the tin container, one that came from my small bakery.

As I sat waiting I heard the click of a camera but thought nothing of it. It was probably just somebody impressed with the design of the building. "Miss L/n, Mr. Wayne will see you now."

I stood up and made my way to the elevator, pressing the button to Bruce's office level. Just as the doors closed I noticed the dirty blonde woman holding her phone up towards me. Before I could question what was happening the elevator door slammed shut and took me to my destination.

{End Flashback}

I should have known something was wrong in that moment but I was so naive then. If only I knew that the woman would turn into one of my admirers I would have never looked at her. Ever since that moment my life was turned upside down. It all started with small visits from the woman I came to know as Ecco every Tuesday to my bakery. She would always make small talk with me and bring in a flower or two to brighten my day but I always got an uneasy vibe from her. It didn't help that she would always glare whenever I helped a male customer, her brown eyes seemingly burning into my soul. It wasn't until a handsy patron came in that I began to fear for my safety.

{Flashback}

It was a slow day at the shop, one or two people sitting and enjoying their drinks and pastries. I looked at the clock and frowned. 1:00 PM. Ecco should be here in 5....4...3...2...1.

Right on cue the door opened and in strolled the dirty blonde woman with a grin on her red painted lips. "Good afternoon, Y/n!"

"Hello, Ecco. What can I get for you?"

She looked down at the glass case, examining each and every good until she decided on a piece of raspberry cheesecake. Taking it out of the case I sliced her a fairly decent sized piece and put it on a plate before handing it to her. "That'll be $2.50."

Reaching into her tan leather jacket she pulled out the necessary amount and I plumped it into the cash register. "Enjoy!"

With that Ecco sat herself at her usual table and I felt her eyes on me as I cleaned the counter and went in the back to grab more product. About 15 minutes after Ecco arrived a man in casual clothes entered, his hands in his pockets and a cocky attitude surrounding him. "Hello, sir. Welcome to Y/n's Bakery. What can I get for you today?"

I felt a bit uncomfortable as his eyes scanned down my body and a smirk appeared on his lips. "How much are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I meant what can I get you from the case?"

"I'd like a piece of you, sweet cheeks."

"I'm not for sa-"

"Oh come on! Everything has a price. I'm willing to pay top dollar~"

"I'm not interested."

"We won't have to do anything out here in public. We can go in the back~"

At this he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close, his breath smelling of tobacco. "Let go of me!"

"You're a little feisty one aren't ya? I like that!"

Just as I was about to retort a punch sent the man sprawling to the floor. I gasped and looked over to see Ecco glaring down at him, her teeth clenched and her eyes full of fury. "Don't ever touch her like that again, you hear me! I never want to see you in here or near my Y/n again!"

"O-Oh yeah? W-what are you going to d-do about it?"

I clenched a hand over my mouth as Ecco began to kick the man repeatedly, him releasing grunts of pain as her heel dug into his side. "Ecco, stop!"

I ran around the counter and was quick to grab her wrist, her attention being brought to me. Her brown eyes widened and then softened as soon as they focused on me, the movement making me nervous. The man on the ground realized his chance to escape so he got up and ran. As the door slammed shut Ecco pulled me into a hug and held me rather tightly, her chin placed on my shoulder. "Don't worry, darling. I can assure you he won't be coming for you again."

My eyes widened at how possessive she sounded and at the fact that I thought I heard her sniff my hair. "T-thanks, Ecco."

"Don't mention it!"

"I think I'm going to close up e-early."

"Oh! Well I can stay behind and walk you home if you'd like."

"N-no I'm f-fine."

I got a bit freaked out as I saw her shoulders sag but she just nodded and headed for the door. "See you later then, Y/n. Take care."

I gulped as she left, a negative vibe staying behind.

{End Flashback}

I trembled as I recalled the memory, it not being one of the worst. From that moment on I always felt her piercing gaze on me and would every so often spot her following me. Soon my friends began to notice that I was very paranoid, always looking over my shoulder, and they grew concerned over me. It got so bad that Bruce offered for me to stay but I always denied in fear of disturbing him and Alfred.

Crunch!

My heart leaped out of my chest as I looked out of the corner of my eye to see one of Ecco’s minions looking at me. Please don't notice me! Please don't notice me!

I continued to walk out of the Dark Zone even as I heard the man mumble something. As soon as I got out of his eyesight I sprinted to the Green Zone, my desire to see Alfred becoming greater and greater with each stride. When I finally got to my destination I took a deep breath and zoomed up the cement steps, knocking on the wooden door in a special pattern. Stepping back I watched as the door swung open and I quickly stepped inside, it slamming shut behind me. "Miss Y/n, I was so worried you wouldn't bloody make it!"

"Neither did I, Alfred. Neither did I. Ecco has really amped up the followers on the streets."

Alfred led me into the living room, I taking a seat next to the fireplace that was roaring. "Would you like some tea, lassie?"

"Got anything stronger?"

"Of course."

I sighed and leaned my back, closing my eyes as bottles clinking and liquid pouring hit my ears. "Here you are."

I opened my eyes and took the glass of whiskey from him, downing it in one gulp. "You must be exhausted, Miss Y/n."

"Very. But you must be too, Alfred, working all day."

"I'm used to it."

"How's Bruce handling all of this?"

"He was a bit upset when he found you gone but he knew you were doing it to protect him. Otherwise he's been volunteering at Jim's safeplace with Selina to keep himself busy. He's also terrified that he'll find out you're captured some time."

Me too, Alfred.

"I'm sorry, Alfred. For all of this. I-"

The faithful butler put his hand on top of mine and stared me stare in the eye. "None of this is your fault, mate. Don't blame yourself."

I gulped down my guilt and nodded. "Bruce, Selina and Jim thought you should stop by his safeplace. It's far from the Dark Zone, there's all the essentials and the police are there. You'd be safe, Y/n."

"If I go that's just more innocent lives that I hold in my hands. I am not willing to put hundreds of lives at risk for my sake."

"At least think about."

"I will. But I better be going. Ecco is usually in Jeremiah's church around this time."

I stood and Alfred gave me a big hug, his hand slipping into my pocket. "Stay safe, lassie. None of us want to see you hurt."

"Thanks, Alfred. For all that you've done."

"No problem at all."

I gave him a small smile and quickly headed out, my hand going into my pocket to find a map. Most likely to Haven.

Looking around to see if anyone was following, I was quick to get out of the Green Zone and back home.

Now in the Dark Zone I resumed a walk as to not look suspicious when suddenly my wrist was grabbed in a death-like grip. "Hey! Let go!"

The man didn't listen to me as he dragged me to the infamous Church of Jeremiah, all the while I was yelling at him to let go. Chucking me inside an empty pool, I groaned as I landed on my back. Sitting up slowly I noticed a table with a red cloth draped over it and blood spatters everywhere I looked. What is this place?

Before I could think too far the sound of shoes scuffing against cement made me turn my head to see a figure in a black, red and white striped robe with a gray and black tinted mask on their face, the hood up. I scrambled to my feet as they came closer, my heart pounding a mile a minute. "Welcome to the the Church of Jeremiah, child. What might be your name?"

"B-Benjamin."

I gulped as the female came closer, her black gloved hand caressing my cheek. "You remind me of someone I know."

"I-I get that a lot."

"She's quite the good looking gal if I say so myself. In fact…”

My eyes widened as she tore off her mask to reveal Ecco, white makeup smeared on her face as well as red lipstick and two black eyebrows drawn on above and below her eyes. She gave me a huge grin before tearing my jacket off, her hands quick to grab my arms. “Ah yes. You’re most definitely my Y/n! There’s the little scar on your right forearm and the birthmark in the shape of a heart.”

She then grabbed my chin and turned my head every which way. “Oh those are the beautiful e/c eyes I remember! And the pierced ears that always wore simple silver earrings every day.”

I struggled to get out of her grip but Ecco simply gripped my shoulders and let her grin spread ear to ear. “Y/n, my darling! I have been looking everywhere for you! Oh, I’m so glad I’ve found you!”

I screamed as she gave me a big kiss and attempted to push her off but Ecco was having none of it. “Oh puddin, I’ve been so worried about you! I thought that maybe Brucie or his butler got a hold of you and hauled you away, that I would never see you again! I’m so glad one of my pets spotted you!”

“LET GO OF ME!”

“Never! Now that I know you’re alive I’m never letting you go.”

She went in for another kiss and I couldn’t help but let out a muffled shriek. Pulling away Ecco seemed to be in utter bliss as her cheeks turned pink under her makeup, her eyes seemingly having stars. “I’ve been searching far and wide for you, dearest. Every day I showed up at your bakery only to find you weren’t there. I thought that man had come back for you or worse that billionaire brat was making love to you. But none of that matters now. I finally have you back!”

She ran her hands through my hair but stopped when she found it not as long as it originally was. “Oh Y/n, I’ll admit disguising yourself as a man was very clever but going to such great lengths as cutting your hair makes me sad. I already miss your lovely locks. But I know they’ll grow back! I’ve got all the time in the world~”

I felt tears leak out of their prison as my fate came crashing down on me. I wasn’t going to be with Bruce or even see any of my friends anymore. I was going to be a caged bird, only there to entertain my feminine master. “Don’t cry, hon. Even looking like this I still love you just as much!”

She leaned in and gave my forehead a light peck, the tears falling harder. “I know! Let’s get you changed into something more comfortable and we can talk and cuddle in our room! That’ll cheer you up!”

I didn’t even struggle as she pulled me away as I knew it was pointless to resist her. My sobs echoed around us as we came upon a dark hallway, Ecco opening a door to the left. She gently pushed me inside before shutting the door and going over to a dresser, I taking the chance to look around. The room was fairly big and contained a queen sized bed, a dresser, vanity and a bathroom off to the side. A three pane window held a seat beneath it and allowed me to see the world outside. “Here we are!”

I was snapped out of my daze as Ecco came to me with a slightly revealing pale red nightgown. “This should work for tonight. Now let’s get you out of those clothes. They’re almost drowning you.”

Before I could stop her she ripped off my shirt to reveal the chest binder that held my ladies flat, her eyes widening. “Oh, puddin! You must be suffocating! Here let me get that for you.”

“DON”T!”

Rip!

I shrieked as I held my arms protectively over my chest, frightened because I’d never been topless in front of anyone before. “There you go, babe. Must be a lot easier to breathe now!”

With that she pulled at my bottoms but I screamed at her to stop. She paused in her movements and looked at me. “I-I can get dressed m-myself!”

“I know but I haven’t seen you in so long. I want every chance to hold you close, to feel your skin.”

I bit my lip as she pulled the pj’s over my head before taking off my shoes, socks and baggy pants. Laying me down in bed she pulled the covers up around me and smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Now you just wait here, puddin pop. I have to finish up some things for the boss and I’ll be up as soon as I can. Then we can cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms~”

She leaned down and gave a smooch to my tear stained cheek before whispering, “Good night, my love.”

I watched as she shut the door and locked it behind her, trapping me in her crazy world. Crying I turned onto my side and curled into a ball, my mind racing and my body trembling.

Please help me….anybody….

#ecco gotham #ecco #ecco x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #gotham x reader #x reader #one shot #Gotham #gotham tv show #gotham on FOX #gotham fanfiction

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ncts-nightnight · 6 years ago

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2018-07

180701 해피엔딩인 영화를 보고 나면 기분이 좋아져. 그러니까 너의 오늘 하루 이야기도 해피엔딩이라고 말해줘. Your mood feels better after watching a movie with happy ending. So please tell me that your story today is also a happy ending. 180702 장마가 힘든 이유는 내내 어둡기 때문이야. 비 갠 후에 해가 뜬다면 세상은 금세 반짝일텐데. 가끔 피할 수 없는 비를 맞더라도, 옆에 햇볕같은 사람이 있다면 아무 문제없어. The reason why the monsoon season is tiring is because it's gloomy all throughout. After the rain is cleared and the sun rises, the world will shine again immediately. Even when sometimes you're drenched by the rain that you can't avoid, if there's a person who is like the sunshine beside you, there won't be any problems at all. 180703 내가 마음에 안드는 날도 있어. 그만큼 나도 모르게 나한테 기대를 했던거지. 그리고 기대했다는 건, 그만큼은 할 수 있었다는 뜻이야. There are also days that I'm not satisfied with. As much as that, I may also unknowingly have had expectations of myself and having those expectations means that I could do that much. 180704 신호등의 파란 불은 멈추지 않아도 좋다는 뜻이지. 온세상을 물들인 초록빛도 움직이기 좋다는 신호야. 최선을 다해서 내일을 즐겨보자. The green light of the traffic light means it's good even if you don't stop. The whole world that is dyed in green is also a sign that it's good to move. Do your best and enjoy it tomorrow. 180705 노력한다고 모든 일을 이뤄낼 수는 없어. 슬프게도 그래. 그런데 니가 노력하는 사이에 니가 노력한 덕분에, 무언가 분명히 변하는게 있어. 분명히 좋은 변화가 있어. You can't achieve everything just by saying that you have worked hard, sadly. However, while you were working hard, thanks to your hard work, there's surely a change in something. Surely, there's a good change. 180706 손에 펜이 있으면 뭐든 쓰게 돼. 손에 카메라가 있으면 뭐든 찍게 되지. 오늘 니 손엔 뭐가 들려 있었어? If you have a pen in your hand, you can write anything. If you have a camera in your hand, you can capture anything. What were you holding in your hand today? 180707 같은 책을 봐도, 같은 그림을 봐도, 같은 영화를 봐도, 사람들마다의 감상이 달라. 같은 하루에도 그렇겠지? 오늘 넌 어땠어? Even if we read the same book, look at the same drawing and watch the same movie, different people appreciate things differently. It's also the case for the same day right? How were you today? 180708 물이 든 컵을 흔들면 물이 찰랑거리다가 넘쳐. 흔들리는 마음을 잔잔히 만드는 법은 나를 가만히 두는거야. 그런 시간이 필요해. If you shake a cup filled with water, the water will splash and spill. The way to make my swaying heart feel calm is to leave me alone. A time like this is necessary. 180709 나뭇잎에도, 보도블럭에도, 비가 닿으면 색이 짙어져. 비를 맞으면 감정도 그래. 짙어져. 그래서 오늘, 더 기다렸어. On the leaf and on the pavement, when the rain hits, the colour deepens. When drenched by the rain, our feelings deepen too. Hence I waited even more for today. 180710 아무날도 아닌 날은 없어. 맛있는 과자를 발견한 날, 우연히 친구에게 연락 온 날. 오늘을 기념하고 기억할 키워드가 분명 한가지는 있을거야. 오늘은 어떤 날이었어? There isn't a day that is meaningless. The day when you discovered a delicious snack, the day when your friend happened to get in touch with you. There is surely a keyword to commemorate and remember today. What kind of day was it today? 180711 다 잘될거라고 믿어봐. 그 믿음이 그 마음이 정말 모든 걸 잘되게 만들거야. Try believing that everything will go well. That belief and that mindset will really make everything go well. 180712 신기하지. 말에는 형체가 없는데, 가끔은 무게가 느껴져. 어떤 말을 털어놓으면 마음이 가벼워지기도 하고, 어떤 말은 마음이 든든해지기도 해. 어떤 말이든, 니가 하는 말은 다 좋아. Isn't it amazing? Words don't take any shapes but sometimes their weight can be felt. For some words, pouring them out will make your heart lighter and some words will make your heart sturdier. No matter what you say, I like everything. 180713 너무 좋은 사람이려고 애쓰지 마. 그런 마음을 갖는 것만으로도, 넌 이미 좋은 사람이야. Don't try too hard to become a person who is very good. Just by having such a mindset, you're already a good person. 180714 불만을 계속 얘기하다 보면 기분이 점점 나빠져. 사랑은 얘기하면 얘기할수록 마음이 점점 포근해져. 우리 오늘은 어떤 얘기를 나눠볼까? If you keep talking about your dissatisfactions, your mood will gradually become worse. If you talk about love, the more you talk about it, your heart becomes warmer. What kind of conversation should we share today? 180715 미로 안에 있으면 길을 찾기가 힘들어. 오히려 멀리서 내려다보면 길이 금방 보여. 가끔은 일상을 벗어나 봐. 그럼 복잡한 생각이 정리될거야. When you're inside a maze, it's hard to find your way. On the contrary, if you look down from afar, you'll be able to see the way immediately. Sometimes, try freeing yourself from your daily routine and your complicated thoughts will be organised. 180716 와~ 오늘 날씨 정말 대단하다. 여름이 최선을 다하고 있나봐. 우리도 같이 즐겨주자. 여름의 시간도 언젠가 지나갈테니까. Woah, today's weather is really something, the summer must be doing its best. Let's enjoy it together because summer time will also pass by someday. 180717 비슷한 색을 매치하면 편안한 느낌이 들지만, 서로 완전히 다른 색을 매치하면 훨씬 생기발랄해져. 가끔 너랑 완전히 다른 사람과 어울려봐. 일상의 좋은 자극이 될거야. Although it feels pleasant when you match similar colours, it's more vibrant when you match colours that are totally different from each other. Try hanging out with people that are completely different from you sometimes. It'll be a good stimulation in your daily life. 180718 한낮의 더위에 지친 모두가 밤의 그늘 앞에 쉬는 시간. 이 시간엔 밤처럼 너에게 편안한 사람이고 싶어. It's rest time under the night's shade for everyone who is worn out because of the heat in the noon. At this time, I want to be a comfortable person to you just like the night. 180719 푸르른 길을 걸으면 생기가 배어들어. 노을지는 풍경 속에 있으면 설렘이 물들지. 이 시간 우리 함께하는 공간에선 행복으로 물들길 바래. When walking on a green path, you'll be soaked with life. When you're in the scene of the sun setting, you'll be tinged with excitement. At this time, I hope that the space that we're sharing will be tinged with happiness. 180720 우연히 어디선가 좋아하는 음악이 들려오면, 좋아하는 구절이랑 마주치면, 좋아하는 색깔의 물건을 발견하면 설레고 행복해. 그러니까 좋아하는게 많으면 행복한 순간이 더 늘어나지 않을까 Coincidentally when you hear music that you like playing from somewhere, when you come across a passage that you like, when you discover things of the colour that you like, you feel excited and happy. Hence, if you have a lot of things that you like, won't your happy moments increase even more? 180721 새로운 사람, 새로운 곳에 적응해야 할 때, 낯선 기분은 우리를 움츠리게 해. 근데 생각해 봐, 지금 익숙한 사람, 익숙한 장소랑도 분명 새로웠던 시간이 있었어. When we have to adapt to new people and new places, the feeling of unfamiliarity makes us shrink. But think about it, the people and places that we are now familiar with were also once new to us. 180722 가끔 어떤 감정에 빠지는건 그 감정의 방에 들어서는 것 같아. 특히 나쁜 감정일수록 그 안에 갇히면 출구를 찾기가 힘들어. 그럴 때, 내가 출구가 돼줄게. Sometimes when you delve into a certain emotion, it's as if you've stepped into the room of that emotion. The more negative the emotion is, the harder it is to find the way out when you're locked inside. At those times, I'll become your way out. 180723 같은 패션 아이템도 누가 하느냐에 따라 느낌이 달라. 그 아이템들이 널 돋보이게 하는게 아니라, 니가 그걸 돋보이게 하는거지. 너의 진짜 매력은 이미 니 안에 있으니까. Even with the same fashion item, the feeling is different depending on who is wearing it. It's not the item that makes you stand out, you're the one who makes it stands out, because your real charm is already within you. 180724 111년만의 폭염이었대! 우와, 이런 날도 태연하게 이겨낸 우리 정말 대단하다. 우린, 못할 게 없겠는데? It was a heat wave in 111 years. Woah, we are really amazing for calmly overcoming such a day. There's probably nothing that we won't be able to do~? 180725 오늘같은 날은 모두 모두 서로 서로 그저 토닥여주자. 길가에 난 작은 풀한테도 오늘을 나느라 고생했다고 수고했다고 인사해주자. 고생했어, 수고했어. On a day like today, let's all comfort each other. Let's also tell the small plants on the roadside that they have worked hard growing today. You've worked hard. 180726 오늘 달 봤어? 지금 니 마음도 오늘 뜬 달 같았음 좋겠다. 저렇게 예쁘고, 둥글고, 밝으면 좋겠다. Did you see the moon today? I hope that your heart now is also like today's moon. I hope that it's that pretty, round and bright. 180727 내가 무조건 칭찬만 한다고 너 자만하지 않을거잖아. 내가 무조건 잘될거라고 말한다고 너 나태해지지 않을거잖아. 그러니까 나 하나만큼은 너한테 무조건 힘을 주는 사람이 될래. If I said that I will only give you compliments, you won't be conceited. If I said that things will definitely go well, you won't become lazy either. So, I'll become a person who will unconditionally give you strength. 180728 아플 때 아픈 곳만 들여다보고 있으면 더 아파. 지루할 때 시계만 쳐다보고 있으면 시간이 더 안가. 지금 뭘 보고 있어? 재밌고 행복한 곳으로 시선을 돌려봐. When in pain, if you keep looking at where the pain is, it hurts even more. When bored, if you just keep staring at the clock, time passes even slower. What are you looking at now? Turn your gaze and look at interesting and happy places. 180729 어린 시절엔 밤이 싫었어. 무섭고 지루하기만 했어. 그런데 밤의 시간도 소중해지고 매력적으로 느껴지는 건, 우리가 어른이 됐다는 증거일까? In our childhood days, we hated the night. It felt scary and boring. But the fact that the night time is becoming more precious and attractive, is that the evidence that we have become adults? 180730 밝은 색 물감이 많이 많이 있는 팔레트에 어두운 색 물감을 좀 섞는다고 색이 어두워지진 않아. 행복한 마음이 많은 사람은 우울한 마음이 조금 섞인다고 어두워지지 않아. On a palette with a lot of bright coloured paint, the colour doesn't become darker when a bit of dark coloured paint is mixed in. A person with a lot of happiness will not become gloomy even with a bit of sadness mixed in. 180731 이렇게 더웠던 밤도 있었지- 하고 오늘의 열대야를 기억하게 될 거야. 분명히 추억이 될 오늘 밤, 여기에 우리 어떤 추억을 더해볼까? There was once such a hot night... and we'll recall today's tropical night. Tonight which will become a distinct memory, what other memory should we add on here?

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scottcaldowhnd · 6 years ago

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Illuminate Research

5 Annotated Images

John Meloy

This image is a good example of painting with light as it combines an additional light source with a detailed sky. It was shot at the perfect time of day as there is still some light left in the sky, making it a more attractive image. They have included a desirable background making it much more appealing for the viewer. The photographer used a “Gear Aid Flux” to light the subject. This is an additional light source with a power up to 640 lumens. For this image the photographer shot multiple 30 second exposures and combined them in post.

Kapple Multimedia

This image is an example of Painting with Light using multiple light sources. One light source has been used to light the outside of the building whilst a blue light source has been used to create the glow inside of the building. These two external sources used together combine to make the image punch and stand out on the screen. The photographer has found an angle that captures the buildings run down character well and has managed to contain distortion in the image. Although the image was not shot at dusk they have still managed to capture detail in the sky. I am assuming they have merged two shots together ; one of the building and other of the sky/stars.

Troy Paiva

This image appealed to me as almost no detail has been lost in the image, even though it was shot in near darkness. The photographer used an exposure of 38 seconds, with most of the light within the image coming from the full moon. A warm light has been added in behind the car, I assume to make it look like the sun is setting behind the car. Another light source has been used to put emphasis on the “Hulk Smash” car, cementing its position as the main subject of the image. The sky still has colour within it, suggesting the image was shot not longer after dusk. The fact that stars are included within the image helps make it a more attractive photograph.

Ken Lee

This image immediately caught my attention due to the strange position of the subject. I believe the photographer has found the correct angle to shoot the subject as it is beginning to look almost 3D. The photographer has shot at an ideal time of day as there is still light in the sky. An external light source has been used to help illuminate the bus. The photographer used an LED Flashlight and SB-600 with gels to paint the light. A slow shutter speed has been used to take full advantage of the light, as well as create a smooth motion effect with the clouds.

Harold Ross

I enjoy the simplicity of this image as it creates an eerie mood within the image. The combination of the dark shadows along with the bright spotlight on the subject gives off the idea that it is being watched over, possibly by a ufo. Ambient light combined with external LED lights and panels have been used to create this image. A relatively quick exposure may have been used to create this image as there is not a lot of movement in the trees/plants. There is the chance that it was a calm night with little wind and a long exposure was used. There are no clouds in the sky so it is hard to tell by their movement what kind of exposure was used. The dark blue tone of the sky helps add to the drama of this image by adding contrast been the silhouette of the trees and the sky.

Noise Reduction

One method of noise reduction is to shoot your images with the lowest ISO. The higher your ISO the more sensitive your sensor is to light, meaning more noise on the image. Shooting on a low ISO in low light will most likely require you to use a slow shutter speed. This will mean that a tripod will probably be required when shooting your image.

Depending on which camera you have, there may be a noise reduction setting built in to your camera. This setting works by the camera analysing the image after it has been shot and looking for any pixels that are rendered incorrectly. It will then fix the pixels which are not properly rendered. This will take some time, usually the same amount of time as your exposure.

When shooting long exposures you must be careful to shoot for how much your camera can handle. If your exposure is too long the image sensor will begin to heat up and some of the pixels within your image will not be rendered correctly, causing noise to appear. You will have to be careful with your exposure times and make sure they are what your camera can handle if you wish to have no noise within the image.

Noise can be reduced in Post Production by using the luminance control in Photoshop etc. The luminance slider reduces the noise which is coming from underexposed pixels within the image. This is commonly found within long exposures. You can also control the noise threshold within the image by using the luminance detail slider. Higher values retain more detail but produce noisier images while low values produce cleaner results but more detail is lost.

The colour slider reduces the colour noise within the image. This is often found within the underexposed shadow areas of the image. The colour detail slider helps to control the colour noise threshold, similar to the luminance detail slider. Higher values protect detailed colour edges but can result in colour specking. Lower values remove colour speckles but can result in colour bleeding.

#illuminate

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thevortexofourminds · 7 years ago

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And one more time...

Art, photography, journalism, and objectivity

Tiernan @tiernanogphoto / @tiernanogmuse kindly allowed me to “take his post (here) apart” ;) And that is what I will try to do. Because - with all due respect (I love you, T! I really do. And I hope you know that) - I don’t really see the point you were trying to make other than to (in parts) just disagree ;P

In his “rant” Tiernan raised the question of “when you shoot photos, are you trying to capture ‘reality’ as it is, or are you trying to make art?”, and mentioned that “photographers are divided”, and that “these approaches can lead to very different results.”

Agreed. Different results. The thing though is: You cannot capture reality. That is not possible. Not in photography. Not in movies. Not in books. Not at all. Even just trying to capture reality is absolutely pointless because you will inevitably fail. Simply because it is not possible. You will certainly create something else. And it might be wonderful. But what you will do is not to re-create reality. And I am not even talking about how subjective “reality” is. Reality happens in your head. And in mine. In every person’s. So there is no _one_ reality. There are as many realities as there are people on this planet. And that is not some philosophical “Hippie bogus”, that is science. The world is multi-dimensional. Photos are two dimensional. That alone makes it impossible to “capture reality”. And even if we use 3D techniques there is still the smell, the sounds, your mood that day… whatever… so many factors.. that are missing in the photo. Ansel Adams once said:

“You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.”

And the same is true when looking at a photo. What’s IN your head will not shape, no, it will CREATE reality - your reality. What you see in a photo is your reality. Not the one of the person who made it.

So, yes, please everyone who wants to, try to capture reality. Go ahead, I won’t stop you. And I am sure that you will create something amazing. But it’s not reality. Like… if you do photorealistic painting… Some people call it art. Others call it “just technique”. And sure, everyone can learn to paint photo-realistically. But “creating reality” is not the point of photorealism. This goes much deeper. Claiming that these people are not artists clearly shows that there is not the slightest bit of understanding for art. Just as if you claim that ONLY photorealistic painting is real art. Both claims are blatantly stupid.

The way we perceive the world - even if we “just” talk about perceiving the world with our eyes - is largely different to how a camera “sees”. The camera captures one specific timeframe - a “moment” if you will - which can be a fraction of a second or even many seconds. Maybe minutes, hours, or even days. But the result is one static picture. It might simulate motion, but in an abstract way. Our eyes and brain _continually_ perceive the world. There is not one moment. There is a constant flow. And if we close our eyes, what we saw is gone. Left is only a memory. And that memory changes over time. That is also science.

Tiernan wrote “Good artists, I feel, seek to enrich the quality of life.”

I disagree. Heavily. That is one way _some_ artists see their art or themselves. Whether these are good artists? That is certainly a question of the audience. I highly doubt that artists like van Gogh, Picasso, Magritte, Miró, etc. tried to enrich the quality of life. It might be that this was _one_ of their goals, and certainly, they fulfilled their own need to create and so … yes… it probably enriched their own quality of life, but no, I highly doubt that enriching the quality of life is what was they sought for.

Sure, if you only focus on art that is “mostly entertainment”… and focus on these artists… then yes, that might be their “mission”. But I know tons of artists (even personally), who don’t give a flying fuck whether they enrich the quality of life. Their “missions” are as numerous as their number. What they have in common is their _need_ to create and communicate their own “vision”.

Quite frankly, I am surprised, T! I am really surprised that you basically use the same argument my mom used to make: “This is not beautiful, so how is that (good) art?”

I also think that this is a VERY dangerous approach. Art was never - never ever - not political. Even during times when politics wasn’t even “invented” yet and it was called religion. There was always art. Paintings, sculptures, music. Art always had a function. This “L’art pour l’art” bogus is a very new thing in art history. Sure, the emphasis of the function of art shifted over the millenia, centuries, decades. And yes, at this time, there is a big emphasis on entertainment. But no, that is not what art - in general - is about.

Art is the first invention humans made. And it is one of the few things we are different from animals. Art and conscience (probably. Scientists are still divided on that subject). Art is the underlying tissue of humanity. Art is what everything else is built upon. NOTHING we have is not connected to at least one art form. Even if people have nothing else, what they have is the need to express themselves. In stories, songs, pictures, dance, … Art was there before anything else was. And the first artform was storytelling. Journalism is old, yes, but not as old as art. And journalism uses “art techniques”.

Tiernan wrote “Both [art and journalism] are important, but I think journalism more so; It can mean the difference between life and death, how often is that true of art?

Is literature art to you? There is one book that led to the deaths of millions and millions and millions of people. Granted, the deaths of these people was caused by the misunderstanding that this book is journalism and not art ;)

Sass aside: Why did and do books get banned or burned? Why did and do artists (of all sorts) have to flee their countries? Because it’s “just fiction”? Or because what they and their books, movies, pictures, whatever… caused was/is dangerous to certain regimes? Was/is that not a matter of life and death?

I agree with that art might not have this - as you call it - immediate impact on life and death of many people. Fact is: Without art, I wouldn’t be here today sitting and typing this. Because I would have certainly killed myself. But sure, I am not many people. ^^ But just because there is no _immediate_ impact of art, claiming that journalism is more important… I am sorry to say it so harshly, but that is completely bogus. Art always changed the world. Art was always used to change the world. In the good and the bad. Art always taught people how to survive. Granted, in an entertaining way. Often through stories. How do stories work? I’ll give you a comparison: Why does cough syrup come raspberry flavored? Because it is incredibly stupid to assume we’d drink it just because it’s good for us.

Saying that journalism is more important than art because journalism has a more immediate impact is like saying: “Chest compression is more important than having frequent meals”. You’re comparing apples to oranges. No… wait… apples to the moon. Both kinda round'ish, but that was it. Completely different things. If anything then art influenced journalism. How to write/present something effectively: Art techniques. Cough syrup.

Once more about objectivity:

Where should I start? First of all: You heavily contradict yourself. You wrote: “anyone who says there is no such thing as objectivity does not understand the concept”. And then you continue with: “Think of the buildup to the Iraq war. Instead of seeing investigative journalists, striving to be more objective (since complete objectivity is impossible), (…)”

So… what is it? Is there objectivity or not? You write that anyone who says there is no objectivity doesn’t understand the concept but then claim that objectivity is impossible.

I do fully agree that journalists need to strive for more objectivity. And they need to always have in mind that they automatically are biased and act accordingly. But that is it. There IS no objectivity. There CANNOT be complete objectivity. Complete objectivity would be presenting ALL the (necessary) facts without any kind of interpretation. And interpretation is ALWAYS subjective. Interpretation cannot be objective. Not possible. More objective? Sure. Completely objective? Nope. And even just the selection process of which facts to present is subjective. What does the person who selects deem to be necessary? And presenting the facts alone is not journalism. Facts are just facts. And without interpretation useless. A journalist’s job is it to collect and interpret facts. Journalism is informing people and shaping opinions. And that is never, that can never be completely objective.

Tiernan wrote “Yet while art rarely reaches that level of immediate importance, it can illuminate deeper truths, those only be covered at a surface level by even the best of journalists.”

Fully agreed. During my literary studies, I did some classes on fairy tales, on “Death in fiction” etc… Metaphysics par excellence. ^^ I certainly won’t go down this rabbit hole here, but there are some amazing books about the “inner workings” of myths, about the deeper truths, about how these works of art cover our human self, describe our human development, etc.

C.G. Jung took many of these ideas and created his own theories about the collective unconscious with its Archetypes etc. While there is certainly a lot of disagreement in the science world about Jung’s theories, it is nevertheless fascinating.

The same story patterns are everywhere. All around the world. In every culture. Music is everywhere, it influences us, whether we want it or not. Religion, politics, advertisement.. everything uses art. Subliminal or not. To influence us. The way we perceive the world is shaped to a large degree by our artistic environment. You think you had one original thought? Think again. Everything you said, everything you wrote came from somewhere. And went through the filters in your subconsciousness. And these filters? In many instances: art.

So… yeah… a big “no” about “Journalism is more important than art”. Journalism wouldn’t even be possible without art.

#art #journalism #objectivity #my writing #photography #was that too sassy? ;)

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mielikki-austin · 3 years ago

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11262021

Happy day after Thanksgiving! Yesterday was a lovely day with friends and lots of food; we did a pot luck where we ordered all the meat from a local place because people mostly care about the sides, and everyone brought their favorite sides. I'm the cranberry girl so I did a traditional cranberry relish with orange zest, and also a cranberry dip that Bro gave me that has sour cream and onions and sugar, and it's an alarming Pepto-Bismol pink, but it's very tasty. We ate, watched TV and napped as we digested, then played board games. Today I'm working a short shift but thankfully calls are light. How about some pics? 1. Mylo and the tiny Christmas tree - Grandma had one of these little ceramic Christmas trees with the little lights in it and I always wanted one. A couple of years ago Bro got me an unfired ceramic one that I finally took to a ceramic studio and painted. It gives me all sorts of nostalgia and I love it dearly. This is a picture that I ran through a filter called 'oil painting' so it looks all classy.

2. Ceres, maybe? - So last week there was an almost-total lunar eclipse and I tried to take pictures of it. Phone cameras have not gotten to the point where they can take any kind of photo of the Moon that isn't super washed out yet, but they can capture faint things that are not visible to the eye, and I remembered that the asteroid Ceres was supposed to be in the area so I pulled out some charts, and am almost certain that I managed to get a picture of our biggest asteroid which was thought to be a planet until other asteroids were discovered in the same region. I have been waiting for a clear night to verify that it is in fact Ceres, but haven't had much luck there. Even still...

3. Uranus, maybe? - The same charts I got from an astronomy magazine that helped me find Ceres also mentioned that our 7th planet Uranus is visible (to binoculars or a telescope) nearby, so I tried to get a picture of that last night. Like many nights in the last few days it's been partly cloudy and hazy, so the best pic I was able to get was this one, and the planet's position is right at the edge of where the clouds are- but this is supposed to be considerably brighter than Ceres (though still unable to be seen with the naked eye unless you're in an absolutely lightless area with perfectly clear skies) and I'm pretty sure that I caught it. Neither of these are particularly impressive pictures by themselves, but considering that I'm taking pictures of things with my little cell phone that Galileo never dreamed of seeing with the best telescope he had available is astonishing to me. It's supposed to clear up on Sunday night so I'm hoping I'll be able to confirm these 'discoveries' then.

4. Mushrooms and peppers - here's my chili pequin plant, though I think some folks are saying it might be a close relative, the chiltepin. I've collected some of the peppers but left a lot for the birds, and nearby we've had some mushrooms pop up that I think I have identified as jack-o'-lantern mushrooms. They grow on decaying stumps, which makes sense because these are in the area where a couple of our old live oaks died some years ago during a severe drought. They're not edible, sadly, (well, as the old saying goes, every mushroom is edible at least once, but eating these will involve a lot of barfing, so no thanks) but I'm told they are bio-luminescent- which is to say, they glow in the dark. I haven't verified this because it's only the underside, and that part of our yard is lit up with a very bright street light so I don't think I could see it anyway. But hey, it's there!

5. Rough earth snake - latest in this week's nature-heavy photo set is this tiny snake I found in a compost bin. Since he was in danger of being squashed by compost getting dumped on him, I grabbed him up and relocated him. It looks like he's had a rough life, someone seems to have bitten off his tail, and I briefly considered keeping him but I don't really have the means to so I put him under a tarp in the side yard where hopefully he'll find a place to hibernate for the winter.

More next week! My love to you both!

#weeklydadletter

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rtterm1project · 4 years ago

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Don’t Panic Posters

Don’t Panic are well known for their unique posters that come with every pack, each design has its own individual style which gives variation to the packs. The fact that the posters could look like anything, whether it be photography, digital art, graffiti or paintings, adds to the mystery element of the Don’t Panic pack because you really don't know what to expect.

Another reason as to why all the posters look different is because they’re all created by different artists, these could be anybody from the famous Banksy to smaller, less known artists who need an audience. Don’t Panic do not care about names because all that matters is the art itself, and helping an artist flourish along the way is a bonus for supporting the community.

Subterfuge - Smit

This freakish design of Snow White is all about the concept and message behind, Smit explains how “Disney reaches their audience giving an unrealistic view of life and love” and therefore displayed the princess as deceitful for “enticing and manipulating the 7 dwarves” with her beauty and charm.

The style of his piece is illustrative and cartoon-like, it replicates how the original cartoon looks like but obviously altered. At first Smit drew the illustration by hand, making Snow White’s skin to look as if it’s been melted off like acid and therefore revealing the bones and muscles underneath. This and the brain representing the apple are creepy and almost sinister ideas of the Disney character, but it’s this concept that draws so much curiosity and attention. With the drawing, he scanned it into photoshop and digitally coloured it in, making it look much clearer and digital.

Success - Steven Wilson

Steven Wilson’s piece is all about the perception of success, and how some people see success through “expensive material things and cars in particular”. People will sometimes buy these extravagant things to show how much money they earn, because this is what they think makes them a success. I think this message and how its portrayed is super clever as it’s a kind of poster that those of this perspective would love, but others would see as sarcasm or the message it aims to share.

The style of this poster is very 80s in its vibrant colours, typeface and even choice of car, the Porsche 911 which was popular at the time. It’s not clear on how exactly Wilson created this as he experiments will all sorts of techniques, using both analog and digital tools. However it looks to me that the main car illustration was done by either painting or printing it by hand, and the text digitally because of the 3D manner it has.

Forgive Us Our Trespassing - Banksy

The piece ‘Forgive Us Our Trespassing’ is by one of best known artists Banksy, the message in this is about the controversy on whether graffiti is a form of art or vandalism. The word trespassing can symbolise the negative aspect of graffiti in that street artists must trespass on private property, in order to tag or paint a wall or surface because that it their canvas. However this piece replicates Banksy’s conflicted feelings about being a graffiti artist, because he may recognise the concerns of those who see his work as vandalism but knows he ultimately means well. This is seen through the boy with a painted halo asking for forgiveness, but also for understanding by praying.

Because this is Banksy’s artwork we know that this was made with spray paint and stencils, and of course this matches perfectly well with the message behind it. I think using the graffiti technique just ties it all together so cleverly, because simply painting this on any canvas does not compare to the whole risky process of quickly and sneakily creating the artwork on a wall.

Light - Martin Parris

For Martin Parris’ poster design I could not find any context behind the piece, however what I do see is an unknown world of both the past and future. I took the past aspect from the black and white photographs, of people from the 70s having a picnic. And I also see it as futuristic because of the immense moon and colourful flowers, indicating it is close to the moon and has coloured and uncoloured features. Both of these things do not connect with anything existing, therefore resembles a new world created by Parris.

The techniques used to create this piece is a variety of mixed media digital collaging. At first Parris created a handmade collage using coloured and non coloured pictures, cutting them out and sticking them together. I think this contrast is super effective and helps separate/make sections stand out. He then scanned it in so he could digitally combine it with a close up photograph of the moon, this looking realistic with the black background worked really well with the handmade collage as it’s simple but effective.

Open - C215

The message behind C215′s piece is also unclear, however what I take from it is a general feeling of true love and support. I can see how the swing may be a symbol of support as the two swing from the letterbox opening, which therefore also connects to the title ‘Open’.

However I think it’s the style and technique used that makes this poster unique, because even though Banksy also uses stencils and spray paint I think C215′s style is much more detailed and realistic. Rather than painting this onto any wall he decided to interact his art with the world, by creating it on a postbox in Vitry Sur Seine, France. Therefore both the small details and interaction, in terms of the couple swinging from the opening and elements of it maintaining the original red colour, make this piece eye-catching and different.

Utopia - Alex Sturrock

This poster’s design is purely photography, meaning no drawing, digital art, editing etc. However Alex has used camera techniques to create beautiful effects, like this glowing look that affects the whole piece from the woman and water to the background. This style also involves a blurred look which rids any sort of detail, and contributes to the title ‘Utopia’ through its aesthetic.

In general Alex takes photographs of abnormal and out of the ordinary things and concepts, they tend to capture moments that we may not be able to relate to. This make his art super interesting and intriguing, which is why Don’t Panic decided to use this photograph as a poster.

Youth - Vermin

The artist Vermin has an intense history of his life, having worked through serious mental health issues. He puts these experiences and feelings into his paintings which is why his art is so striking and full of emotion, and for this specific poster Vermin wanted people to “see some sort of intenseness” from where he has come. And even though he thinks greatly about beauty, he will always “think heavily about the darker moments in life” and be a paranoid person. I think this can be seen within the painting, however at the end of the day he wants “people to think what they want to think” because it’s about the interpretation.

The material he uses is oil paint on canvas, and for this piece in particular he used a much larger canvas that normal. He also had no time constraints which allowed him to “let the piece take its course” by layering forceful brush strokes.

Dance - Sarah & Mandy

This poster is a digitally designed piece that I find really appealing. The reason why is because I think the way all the fish merge and the colour pallet work really well together, since they mix together but keep individuality through different the bright colours. There’s also a neon like vibrancy to the illustration, created with the contrast of a dark background and vivid colours. These drawings seem to look as if they were originally done by hand, to then later be scanned in for

There is no meaning that I could find of this piece, however the liveliness of the poster seems conspicuous and important. This makes me feel that the art is alive and has movement in its design, therefore possibly linking the fish to the title ‘Dance’.

That Summer Track - McBess

McBess is another very well known artist, famous for his strange yet striking illustrations and animations. What would otherwise be freaky X-rated cartoon imagery, he has a way to present it as lovely and whimsical. I’m not certain for this specific poster, but in general McBess’ work is usually based on his childhood references rather than recently seen things. And when he was a child his father would show him cartoons like Betty Boom and Merrie Melodies, both of which have a kind of weird/dark mood and music to match.

In his animations you can see these similarities as he is also a musician and tends to create imagery to these songs, however he finds that animation takes up too much time with all the ideas he has. Whereas illustrations can be done fairly quickly compared, and it’s because of these awesome concepts that makes his style even more interesting. The way McBess creates these digital drawings is with a drawing pad that allows his to physically draw straight onto the computer, leaving the art to look perfectly clear and crisp.

Obey Sound & Vision - Shepard Fairey

According to the artist this piece “represents the accessible and infectious nature of music as we all experience it”, Shepard Fairey finds music super inspirational which is evident from the title as it’s actually taken from the David Bowie song “the gift of sound and vision”. He states how he finds music far more connection with an audience than art, because you often think “I can’t get this song out of my head” but rarely think “I can’t get this painting out of my head”.

As you can see music means a lot to Fairey, so much so he takes inspiration for his artwork from a range of musicians like David Bowie, Metallica, Public Enemy etc. To create this he uses mixed media on canvas, illustrating a vinyl like shape that matches with the record store environment feeling. This is noticeable through the rustic/vintage effects, and slightly see-through retro pattern designs, typography etc.

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years ago

Text

Light Painting

Characters: Cas x Reader, Sam, Dean

Word Count: 2,391

Warnings: just pure fluff with Castiel because he’s a smol bean

Request by @helllonearth: Jordan! I noticed that you don't write that much Castiel recently cause almost nobody is requesting him. But this idea flashed (literally) in my mind while taking some photos. So, what about a oneshot where reader is a photographer and she loves light painting,when cas becomes human she decide to take a pic of him creating wings behind him with a light effect.

Author’s Note: I do not own any of the pictures. I got them off Google but if you know the person who made them, let me know so I can credit them. If you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite! If you want to request a fic, please send them in! I love writing what you guys want!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

If you never became a hunter, you would most definitely be in the photography business. There was something about being behind a camera, capturing moments in life that would never present themselves again.

Of course, you still did photography but not as much as you would like. You tried to take as many pictures as you possibly could, taking pictures of landscapes to people to food to even still life. You loved working on the pictures digitally, making them more modern with filters and other types of things that compliment them.

Your favorite kind of painting was light painting. It was kind of hard to explain but you do this in the dark, take a special kind of light and start “painting” the air as you take pictures which then produces whatever you painted in the air.

You found yourself having a whole album of your photos and only Sam and Dean have seen them since you were really private about them. However, Sam and Dean were more than supportive with your work and they often found themselves as the subjects of your art.

They really didn’t like it when you took pictures of them but they were so photogenic that you just had to take pictures of them. You would take pictures of Cas but he asked you not to, solely on the fact that the camera will capture his wings and human eyes weren’t meant to see his wings. So, you respected his wishes.

However, recently, Cas became a human and as much as you were sad his Grace was gone, you were glad that you got to do human things with him. You showed him how to do all kinds of things and he grasped onto your every word, not wanting to mess things up.

Before he was human, you always thought of Cas as your Angel friend that you loved to have around. But as you were teaching him about humanity, you saw him in a different light. He was more vulnerable, more scared of getting things wrong; especially in your presence.

You started to fall for him and as much as he seemed to like you back, you thought they would just complicate things when he got his Grace back. As a human, he didn’t have to worry about much, a human dating a human. But as an Angel, there were all kinds of things to worry about.

If you two had sex, there could be a chance of an Angel baby and you didn’t want that, despite you wanting to have kids with him. There was also the problem of always being away since Earth wasn’t his home. Heaven was and he would always stay the same age and you would grow old, eventually dying before he does.

It just didn’t work out in the end. So, you just could photograph him now that he was human and you would do it in secret because you dind’t know if he would like it or not.

You walked into the war room to see the Winchester brothers and Cas reading, concentrating intensely. You grinned and held your camera out in front of you, making sure the shot was just right before snapping a picture.

You pulled away and looked at what you shot and smiled. You loved to capture emotion and you could definitely see that they were stressed.

“Y/N, enough with the camera, please.” Dean said when he heard the shutter. It was a quiet shutter but this was a quiet room so you weren’t surprised when he heard it.

“Sorry, Dean.” You said, shifting your position to end up in Cas’s line of view before lining up the shot. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to what was going on and you zoomed in on his face, making sure nothing was in the background.

His beautiful face covered the whole screen and you took the picture, smiling when he didn’t move.

“Y/N, I don’t think Cas wants you taking pictures of him either. You know what, you should be helping us.” Dean said, looking at you.

“Helping you what? We don’t have a case. You two should relax. More so with you, Dean because we all know how much you hate this kind of thing.” You said, leaving the camera to hang around your neck.

“I know but we need to work on getting Cas’ Grace back.” Dean said, looking a little defeated.

“Have you ever thought he didn’t want it back?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“I want it back, Y/N.” Cas spoke up. Your shoulders sagged a bit and you huffed out.

“Fine, have fun. His Grace will still be gone tomorrow. I am going to relax for a bit since we never do that. You know, it’s bad for your body to not relax.” You said, leaving them, and going into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat.

You opened the fridge and looked through it, grimacing at the fact that it was nearly empty of food. All that was in here were leftover takeout food, a lot of beer and maybe some water. Damn, you needed to go shopping.

“Y/N, can I see the picture you took?” You heard Cas’ gravelly voice come from behind you. You jumped out of your skin, not expecting him to be there. You held your racing heart and turned around, glaring at him slightly.

“Holy shit, Cas, you gave me a heart attack.” You said, sighing to calm down.

“I did not. If you were having a heart attack, you would be dizzy and have a cold sweat. Plus, many more symptoms but you are not.” Cas said with his infamous head tilt.

“No, Cas, it’s just an expression. You don’t sneak up on people. We talked about this.” You said, pushing past him and sitting at the table. Cas walked up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“My apologies. Could I see the photo you took of me?” He asked.

“Sure.” You said, going through your gallery on your camera, showing him the picture you took of him in the war room.

“Wow, you’re really good with a camera.” He said, squeezing your shoulders a bit.

“Thank you but this is nothing compared to what I can actually do.” You said, chuckling.

“What else can you do?” He asked, genuinely curious about it. You looked up, meeting his beautiful blue eyes before responding.

“Fine, I’ll show you but you can’t make fun of me. Sam and Dean do that enough already.” You said, biting your lower lip.

‘You have my word.” He said with a smile.

“Great, I’ll show you tonight when it’s dark out since it’s the only time I can do it.” You said, getting out of your seat and leaving your camera on the table.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“To the store. We need some more food. You want to come with?” You asked, grabbing Dean’s keys. He only let you or Sam drive his precious car.

“Sure.”

“Is it dark enough now?” Cas asked, looking outside through the front door of the Bunker. Honestly, you forgot he even asked about seeing your photos but you were glad he reminded you because after a lot of thought, you knew the perfect picture to capture.

“Yes it is. Let me go get my things. Just wait there.” You said, getting up and leaving the war room.

“Hey, where are you going?” Sam asked, stopping you in the hallway.

“Getting my equipment so I can show Cas some of my light painting.” You said with a grin, walking past him but another voice stopped you.

“Yeah, and while you’re out there, kiss him. It’s getting frustrating with all the sexual tension you two have.”

“Dean, stop it,” You said, whipping back around. “Cas doesn’t like me like that. Even if he did, which he doesn’t, it would be too complicated when he gets his Grace back. He won’t want me anymore.”

“You and me both know that’s complete bullshit.” Dean said with an eyeroll.

“Don’t say anything to him, Dean. Promise me.” You said, glaring at him.

“Alright, fine, I promise.” Dean said, sighing deeply.

“Thank you.” You said, walking away from them and into a spare room that you called your studio. You fixed it up and made this your dark room when you developed your pictures. You gathered the things you would need and met Cas by the door, walking outside with him.

“Would you like some help?” He asked, seeing how many things you were carrying.

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” You said, handing him your tripod, carrying your box of the other things you would need. You walked into the field next to the Bunker and stopped when you deemed it was perfect.

“What kind of photography is done at night? You can’t see anything.” Cas said, handing you the tripod after you set the box down.

“I am doing a little something called light painting. Don’t worry, you will love it. You’re the subject and I do have a surprise for you.” You grinned, getting everything set up.

“What kind of surprise?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it? Follow me,” You led him away from the camera, putting him at an appropriate distance to work with. “Now stay here and let me do all the work.”

You walked back behind the camera and got the timer all set up, putting in the right lens for this and taking out your special light. Before you got to work, you took a test shot, making sure that everything was right and you had enough light coming from the moon shining.

When you made sure everything was okay, you got to work, walking over to Cas.

“Now, stay still and let me do my thing.” You said before waving the light around. You had to always be in motion, always moving your body and the light in order to not get yourself in the picture. You worked fast, creating wings for him since he didn’t have any.

You made sure to use the right light, creating them in the best possibly way you could. You wanted him to like it after all.

“Okay, keep standing there. I am not finished.” You said after you were done with the first picture. You walked over to the camera and looked at it, making sure it was perfect. You liked what you saw and set up another shot, walking over to Cas when you were done.

You got to work again, waving the light around, always being in motion. When you were done, you smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him to the camera.

“I hope you like what I did.” You packed everything up so you could develop them properly.

“Where are they?” He asked, grabbing the tripod when you handed it to him.

“I have to get them developed and then I’ll show you. It’s better to look at them not on a camera.” You said, walking back to the bunker, using your light to see. You walked back in the Bunker and headed straight to your dark room.

“Come in and close the door.” You said to Cas, setting down the box of your things. He did as he was told and you took the tripod from him, setting it by the door. You got out your camera and took the film out of it, getting the negatives since you needed them to develop them.

You did your magic, hooking the negatives to a machine to capture the picture onto an empty picture slab. When you were sure it was copied, you put the picture under the chemicals you had in the correct container.

“What happens now?” Cas asked, quiet as he watched you work.

“We wait until the film shows up and we hang it to dry.” You said, turning around. You inhaled sharply when you realized just how close you were to him. You looked up at his face and stared into his eyes. Even in the dark room, you could still see how clue they are.

“I had a fun time with you today.” He said.

“Me too.” You whispered, your eyes flitting between his. He leaned down and quickly captured your mouth with his. Your eyes widened but you weren’t going to pass an opportunity to kiss him. You didn’t know he liked you until this moment.

You started to kiss him back but pulled away when you realized who was behind all of this.

“Did Dean tell you to do this?” You asked. You were going to kill him/. He promised he wouldn’t say anything.

“No,” He said and you nodded out of relief. Maybe he does genuinely like you back. “Sam did.”

“Sam did? Oh, I am going to kick his ass. I told them not to do this.” You said with a sigh.

“Why? Do you not like me?” Cas asked.

“No, I do like you. A lot, actually but you’re going to get your Grace, back, Cas. You’re not going to be a human forever and that would just complicate things, would it?” You asked, forgetting about the picture.

“Why does it have to be complicated? I like you a lot and just because I’m an Angel, shouldn’t stop me from kissing you.”

“You like me? You’re saying that after this, you want to be with me? As in, my boyfriend?” You asked, hope in your voice.

“Yes, if you would have me.” He said, gentleness in his eyes. You grinned and leaned up, pressing your lips back on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you in closer as he kissed you.

You couldn’t believe this was happening but you didn’t want to jinx it at all. Cas pulled away far too quickly, making you chase his lips; they were so soft.

“Hey, those are awesome pictures.” He said, looking at the finished product.

You turned around and got out your gloves, carefully taking them out of the container and hung them up to dry. You grinned and looked up at your new boyfriend.

“I thought you would appreciate them.” You said with a giggle.

Forever and ever:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf @wishedworld @justanotherdeangirl @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy

My Angels:

@helllonearth @duubaduu @fightmeandmy100fandoms

Other tags:

@notnaturalanahi @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

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