#idk just slowly rotating this prompt lol

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Hypermobility

Okay wait I have a prompt!!! If you wanna So I've been reading a lot of fics recently that are in space aus, with the whole humans are deathworlders concept (idk how this is common across my fandoms but it is so I'm binging them lol). And I had an idea based on recent irl events. – anon (long ask, cut for brevity)

inspired by my lovely @ghostofasecretary who has trained all of our friend group to look for hypermobility on account of our schlorpy joints :)

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: loosely implied analogical i guess, but as with most of my shit can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count; 1809

Remus glances up to see Virgil staring at Logan like his abdomen has spontaneously ruptured. He sees Roman out of the corner of his eye do the same. Virgil swallows heavily. "L," he says slowly, "what the fuck is wrong with your arms?" "Nothing is wrong with my arms, what are you talking about?" "Elbows don't bend like that!" Ah. So there was something wrong. Remus was right. Take that, human etiquette manual. Wait, shit, something's wrong with Logan.

Roman clicks at Remus as he comes onto the lab floor. Remus clicks back as he logs onto his station, sighing as he looks at the absolute mess someone's fucking made of the logs—seriously, it's only been one quarter cycle, how are they this fucked up already?—and Roman immediately leans over to see what he's sighing at.

"Wait, what's that?"

"Some xetron made an absolute fucking disaster out of the hadron logs."

Roman winces in sympathy and his carapace shifts. "Are you gonna do yours before you clean that up, or—?"

The last part of his question gest interrupted when Logan comes onto the floor, waving a brief hello with his fingers instead of his antenna—because humans don't have antennae, which was a pretty sharp learning curve for both of them when they'd been so confused as to why this human was refusing to talk to them or even show his feelings, they'd had a few apologetic shifts before Logan realized what was going on and explained everything—and raising an eyebrow when he noticed them clustered around Remus's station.

"Is there something wrong?"

"The shift before us messed up their hadron logs."

Logan rolls his eyes. "You'd think that for life forms insistent that their gravitational curves made them more naturally prepared for graviton scans, they'd have a better sense of how to record them properly."

"You're spellcasting on the acolytes, Logan."

Logan frowns, glancing at his tablet, before the equivalent phrase pings on the screen and he hums. "Ah, I see. Yes, well, if you'd like my help at any point, I only have the routine gamma sweeps to do this shift, so I should be amenable."

"Oh, I can do it, it's just a pain in my thorax."

Roman chuckles and heads back to his own station, probably to sneakily-not-so-sneakily ask some of the others on the shift who are fucking competent what the fuck happened. Remus gets himself ready to dive into the long and tedious work of redoing the spin increments and calculating the proper uncertainties for the right variables—honestly, do they even look at the readouts? It has the layout right there! And it's not like the other logs are invisible! Just look at the rows two microns above the empty one you're supposed to be filling out!—and manages to sink into a rhythm for the first half of the shift. Granted, he's absolutely muttering about how stupid it is that they aren't even calculating the basic momentum, let alone the angular velocity to account for the other celestial bodies in the middle of the waveforms, but it's fine, and Roman keeps up his running commentary of the molecular analysis machine that takes its sweet-ass time to do even the most basic of scans, and every so often he'll hear a small huff from Logan as he corrects their probe's trajectory, but for the most part, the lab is a quiet and serene place to be.

God, he can't wait until he gets rotated back to the engineering department full-time.

Like, yeah, he likes spending time with his brother, and the human's cool—he's really funny when he lets himself be, like his wit is drying than the mountain deserts on Cre-Ativa, and his facial expressions are fucking plat when their superiors are being xetrons, but there's only so much he can take of this quiet where not much happens. And he has to deal with the idiots who don't know how to format hadron logs correctly. This is the third time he's had to correct a typo that's rendered the rest of the calculations useless.

"I'm honestly about to recommend them for a review of the training course, that's how fucking serious this is."

"Maybe there's something wrong with how the keyboard is adapted for their limbs?"

"That would explain some of the typos, not all of them. And it definitely wouldn't explain why there's a massive formatting change about halfway through."

"Perhaps there's a shorthand they're using for some of the notes that we don't know about, and they're forgetting to correct them at the end of their shift."

"Yeah, but then they should tell us that, instead of—" Roman trails off and Remus looks up.

Logan is…stretching, yes, that's the right word. His limbs are extended over his head and his back is arched, but his upper limbs are…bending. Not like the way they normally bend, they're bending…too much? Not enough? The wrong way? Yeah, that's it. The wrong way.

Logan notices they've gone quiet and looks over. "Is there something wrong?"

"You're, uh," Remus stammers, "are you—okay?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, what is it?"

"Nothing, nothing."

He and Roman exchange a look—the first rule in the human etiquette training manual was if they get weird, just roll with it for a reason—and get back to minding their own business. Admittedly, some of the errors do make more sense now that he's looking at it like it's some kind of shorthand he doesn't know yet, but that wouldn't explain why some of these variables are straight-up wrong and why they wouldn't bother to tell him what the shorthand is so that he's not trying to do the work of two shifts in the time of one.

Something he does appreciate is that the way the shifts in the lab are set up, opposed to engineering, is that sometimes there will be people whose shifts halfway overlap with theirs. So there's always at least one set of people that are staying in the lab while a changeover is happening and then there's not that risk that the equipment will be left unattended. Apparently they learned that lesson the hard way when the molecular exhibitor decided to go into overload in the five minutes where there wasn't anyone logged in, and nearly destroyed the matter wave projector on the station next to it. The justification was in the name of safety, but really everyone knows it's just so the higher-ups know exactly who to blame when shit goes awry.

Whatever the case may be, the door slides open to reveal the other human down here, Virgil, yawning as he makes his way over to his station.

"Hello, hello, everyone."

"Hi, Virgil!"

Virgil winces. "You are way too chipper this early in the morning."

"It's past the circadian half cycle, Virgil."

"Yeah, and?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to acclimate to your schedule on your own time," Logan says, stretching again, "even though I'm sure your caffeine tolerance has—what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Remus glances up to see Virgil staring at Logan like his abdomen has spontaneously ruptured. He sees Roman out of the corner of his eye do the same. Virgil swallows heavily.

"L," he says slowly, "what the fuck is wrong with your arms?"

"Nothing is wrong with my arms, what are you talking about?"

"Elbows don't bend like that!"

Ah. So there was something wrong. Remus was right. Take that, human etiquette manual.

Wait, shit, something's wrong with Logan.

"Logan? Do we need to take you to medbay?" Roman's already rushing out from behind his station. "There's a pack in the corner, I can—"

"Oh, for—relax, all of you, I'm fine."

"Uh-huh, yeah, fine, that's what I'd describe elbows that bend all schlorpy as, yeah," Virgil says, "what the—does that not hurt?"

"What? No, it doesn't hurt, look, your joints—"

"My joints suck ass but at least they're fucking bending the amount they're supposed to!"

Remus isn't quite sure how human joints are capable of such a surprising and invasive act, but never let it be said he's not curious. "Your joints are capable of performing anal suction?"

"What the fuck? No! It's a turn of phrase!"

"Oh. Disappointing."

"Ignore him," Roman says, "Logan, are you sure you're—"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, I'm just—oh," he mumbles, prodding at his tablet, "what's the word for this in Common?"

"There's no word for schlorpy elbows, Logan—"

"Yes, there is!" He pokes around for a few more seconds before he lets out a noise of triumph and says something that the translators don't translate.

"It's what?" Virgil just shakes his head when Logan tries again. "I don't know what that means, bud."

Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, let me try it this way. What's it called when you are in a state of heightened energy and it leads to outbursts of things like running around, or talking too loudly, or being high-strung?"

"Remus," Roman offers helpfully.

"No, Roman."

"Are you talking about being excitable?"

"No, there's a specific word for it. It also serves as a prefix for being too much of something, or an overabundance of something."

"Too much—do you mean the word hyper?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it. And then what's the name of the thing that some people hang over cribs that have little stars or animals?"

Virgil stares at Logan for another moment. "You mean a baby mobile?"

"Yes, but only the second word."

"Mobile?"

"Yes, that's it. Then put the two words together—"

"There were probably so many other ways you could've said you were hypermobile, L, I'm just gonna put that out there—"

"Well, it got you to guess it, didn't it?"

"It's too fucking early for this shit."

"Again, it is afternoon—"

"Shut up."

Roman looks back and forth between the two humans, still twitching as though he's going to be asked to sprint for the medbay at a moment's notice. "So…is Logan…are you alright?"

"Yes, for the fourth time, I'm fine. Virgil's just a little excitable, that's all."

"You try being normal when joints are doing unexpected things," Virgil mumbles, more to his caf than anything else, but he reaches behind himself to pat Roman's carapace. "He's fine, his body just does that."

"But you said it bends the wrong way, how is that fine?"

"There is a thing known as hypermobility," Logan says, "it…oh, dear, it basically means that certain joints will bend…more."

"He's not hurt, that's pretty much all I know."

Roman looks like he's about to protest but Remus just clicks at him. They exchange another look as the humans settle back to work.

Humans are weird, just gotta roll with it.

These hadron logs, on the other hand—

"I'm gonna punt these flimflobbers into the next star we see."

"Can I help? They fucked up the carbon dating program as well."

"How do you fuck that up?"

"Ask them, not me!"

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[wigglebox]

Just curious, I love your art, but I was wondering if you are still continuing your wiggleafterdark account? 💖

hi!!! thank you! <3

and i do yes very much want to! it's this flavor of ADHD i have right now that's causing me problems

idk if anyone else can relate but it's also why i haven't been drawing as much as lately anyway and that's because i have what i call the ADHD Caroseul of Crafts on constant rotation in my brain.

I like to do a LOT of crafty stuff and i also like to draw and write and usually drawing and writing can't exist at the same time in my head which is why i haven't really written since i started drawing again

but when i was trying to rest my elbow from drawing so much in October and November, my brain pivoted to crochet. And usually those two crafts can exist at the same time, however naturally the desire to draw goes down just a little bit more.

However, I will say i'm nearing the end of my crochet hyper fixation once I gather up enough things to bring with me for my summer vacation to wear lol.

but the wiggleafterdark account suffered from all of this battle of focus and attention in my head.

but i am still logged into it on twitter, i still have it, i still have some ideas!

if anyone has ideas or prompts to draw for that account to help me out as i slowly transition back into art, that'd be fantastic as well!

[danideservedbetter]

Alright so, here’s how things are gonna work.

First off, welcome to this side blog. Since it won’t be jolly fun fandom content and will be a little more personal I decided to separate my health and writing journey from my fandom stuff, although all my fandom content will still be linked on my main blog here.

(I write Izuocha/bnha content which isn’t super popular so if you’re not here for that then yeah, I don’t blame you. But if you are I have a link to our discord and community content pinned so def check it out if you’re interested.)

Secondly, you guys will hear details about stuff relating to my health like what kinds of things affect my disorder based on the tests some doctors are ordering, how I’m trying to improve my diet and activity, and routines and goals I’m attempting for myself. I am underweight, and that’s something I’m going to be talking a bit about, so if that’s triggering following this blog might not be the best thing for you. Details under the cut.

So, what kind of disorder do I have and why did I decide to make a health journey blog? My disorder is called idiopathic hypersomnia. Basically what that means is that when my disorder is acting up (based on factors like stress especially or my generalized anxiety rearing its ugly head) I have the capacity to sleep. And sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. My longest recorded uninterrupted “sleep-attack” was 26 hours long and ever since I caught Covid in January, my body had been slowly growing weaker to the point I was starting to develop atrophy. I’ve had this ten years and my neurologist suspects inactive cells from mononucleosis I caught at 14 was the cause, because other IH patients have linked their sleeping problems to a case of mono or have had it at some point in their lives.

This disease stole many years and many things I’ve looked forward to from me. I lost friends and experiences and failed so many college classes I had to drop out.

I’ve decided I’m taking them back.

It’s not going to be easy. Just as it took ten years to convince myself that my tiredness was something I chose to give into, it took several extra years and many fights with my family to convince them that I had a real actual neurological disorder and that I need help sometimes. My parents and grandmother finally understand that I have to finish college and find a very special boss willing to work around my erratic progress on projects, but the outsiders they married are not as convinced. My grandmother’s husband kicked me out of their house because he wants to be the center of attention and doesn’t like that some days I’m so weak that I needed my grandmother’s help, and my father’s wife thinks I’m a lazy and ungrateful leech who “gets anxiety just being around” me. Both told my father I’ll never be happy so why even bother with me, but my dad is actually striving to understand his own recently-diagnosed PTSD so while we still butt heads he’s understanding that I have to take things day by day because every tiny circumstance affects my disorder.

Now, why did I decide to air all this out? Well, being open about my disorder and how it affects me has helped at least two people that I know of find out that the tiredness they experience isn’t the typical “American work force exhaustion” they were trained to believe is normal. So if I can help even one more, I’ll gladly talk about what this entails and how I deal with it day to day. Another reason is that I’m also one of those big advocates who believes talking candidly about mental health destigmatizes it and sharing ideas can help us grow as people and maybe make it a little easier to deal with.

So now that you know a little bit about me and my disorder, here are my big goals for the next three months provided my university takes pity on me and actually lets me go back.

First up: create routines to train my body to get used to living a full day fully awake. This includes waking up at the same time and going to sleep at the same time. It means getting dressed and going out and doing things, even little things— which I’ll get to in a sec.

Second: I write. I have a novel in limbo and I write fanfics. Writing is a big part of who I am and I’ve written one thing this year, which for a whole six-month stretch is upsetting and disappointing. Today is my reset. In the next 569 days I want to to finish the six stories I have in limbo (except the larger one) and finally reach my goal of posting 200k words in a single year. I wont be hard on myself if I can’t accomplish this because honestly finishing anything in the chaos of my life is going to be a miracle but. There ya go.

Third: go back to freakin college. I don’t care what it takes. Sit down with every official, every lawyer, and every professor it takes to get me back enrolled in classes in the fall.

Fourth: I have several smaller things I have to do, short term goals, stuff like that. I’m gonna create a to do list each day of small tasks I want to get done and while some of these things will be part of my daily routine I am throwing in like one or two things a day that just need to be done. My writing goal will change daily and I’ll keep y’all updated on that with every post I make.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dani! That’s so much!! Well, a few months ago I remembered hey!! I basically have a computer in my hand, why make it hard on myself. So I downloaded certain apps to help me out. This isn’t me saying “hey go subscribe to these apps because I said so” it’s just that through a lot of trial and error I’ve come to find that these certain apps work for me and I’ve yet to come across one that has the functionality of everything I need.

Tiimo — so this is an app I found developed by people with autism for people with autism to help them develop good habits and routines. It has preset daily schedules (things like morning routines or nightly routines or work routines) and an internal alarm to let you know when to move on to the next task. I myself have extremely low-level aspergers (to the point where my doctor won’t give me an official diagnosis because I didn’t want people think that *it’s* the reason I have issues with school), so moving from task to task can be difficult sometimes and I also deal with getting distracted. This widget also appears on my home screen so I know what I have to do at a glance. You can program in weekly and daily tasks to fully customize your schedule, which is fantastic for someone like me who wants to for example rotate chores. This is hopefully going to help me get my body in the habit of adjusting to routines and transitioning from one task to another, as well as getting important things done responsibly.

Promptly Journals — I’ve been told for a while that journaling is helpful mentally to kind of recenter yourself, so a bit ago I downloaded several journal apps to add to my morning routine. Now some will prefer more creatively free journals, but I prefer this one that gives me small prompts I can do in a short amount of time that just allows me to get my thoughts down. I can even add pictures at the bottom that go with the theme! I’m scared I’ll run out of prompts eventually lol but until then this app works very well for my needs.

Stretchingexercise — Now idk if it’s from lack of sleep from my disorder, the position I sleep in when I do sleep, all the physical labor I’ve had to do in the past couple weeks, my medicine, or w h a t but I suffer from body aches like no one would believe. I know stretching is supposed to help with that, so I downloaded this app to help me do non-demanding physical activity that wakes me up in the mornings and helps relieve pain so I don’t keep having to take pain relievers. This one has different plans for things like muscle tension, back pain, warm ups— and it also gives you rudimentary weight updates (I’m underweight lololol so we’re looking to fix that) or plan updates. It’s worked really well for me so far and gives you animations and descriptions of the workouts (some taken from yoga) as well as timed breaks and a narrated guide. It’s been pretty helpful in temporary relief and if nothing else gets my blood flowing in the mornings.

Widgetsmith Step counter — in addition to the stretching thing one thing my doctor and I discussed that helps with the sedentary lifestyle is simply walking. I’ve needed so bad to relieve my stamina and reverse the atrophy, and walks have been stellar for that. Now I live in the New Orleans area so humidity and heat force me to go at the crack of Dawn, but honestly my weenie dachshund Charlie really enjoys our time out so he goes with me! The CDC recommends 10,000 steps a day which seems like a lot and it is if you don’t get out much. But this gives me an excuse to get dressed and do the hygienic thing and help Charlie be healthy too, as well as give me time for brainstorming because we walk in a truly beautiful area. I’m sure everyone installed widgetsmith with the last iOS update (Apple users anyway) and while at first the step counter was just interesting I’ve since come to rely on it! We do our 5000 in the morning, which of course is half, and I find that other things I do throughout the day typically drive the counter higher. Anything leftover can easily be accomplished by an evening walk in our neighborhood. Now the caveat is that I have to remote have my phone in my pocket because I don’t own a watch or anything fancy lol, but honestly I need to keep it on me anyway so that serves as a good reminder.

Todoist — this one is my FAVORITE. Ever since I’ve decided that I have trouble keeping track of things I need to do and small stuff I need to keep in mind and appointments, etc, I decided to find a list app. This is the one I found that absolutely helps me for everything from my list of room supplies I need to buy, to my reading list, to general tasks I have coming up I need to complete. And its widget functionality keeps it right on my Home Screen! More organized individuals can just use tiimo, but I’m definitely not one of those individuals so this app is sorely needed and appreciated.

And of course, I know building habits the first few weeks is HARD. So for days my body doesn’t respond to my alarms, I have a checklist of the key things I have to do to keep my life as functional as possible.

So that’s that on that. I’m going to try to keep writing updates and my daily goals in a post in the morning, and reblog what I accomplished in the evening. It’s gonna be tough. But I’m thinking if I can start small I’ll be able to build my stamina enough to return to college and be successful when I do. I hope that anyone watching this journey draws some kind of meaning or inspiration from it. And you guys can even follow along if y’all want! Especially for writers or people trying to get healthier. I can’t promise what works for me will work for you (and honestly I expect things to change especially if I get accepted into college again) but hey, I figure it’s worth a shot.

I hope you guys enjoy watching this journey, if nothing else I hope it’s entertaining. And maybe it’ll be successful. I do know that I’m just gonna try for it, and hope it works out.

First daily update to follow

Xoxo

Dani

[stanskzseungmin]

YJI ~ And Now It’s Going Around

Genre: Angst, Fluff? Idk what this is lol

Word Count: 2702

A/N: This story is going to have a lot of imagery and symbolism, so I suggest focusing on the symbols to fully understand the story. If not, the ending may be confusing.

A/N 2: I’m dedicating this to my love, @okayseungmin​. Sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy it! T^T I love you~ 💖💕💓💕💓💖💓💕💓💖💖 Take care of yourself and rest well! 

A/N 3: Not proofread! I know, very shocking. #WeDyingLikeMen!

~

It’s a dreary day.

The sun is out. The clouds are nowhere to be found. Birds are singing. A soft spring breeze came and went. The sun lit courtyard is filled with flowers that seemed to sway and dance along to the wind and the song of spring.

A beautiful day, 

But it doesn’t match the dreary atmosphere.

In the same place, at the same time, there were two figures occupying opposite ends of the courtyard. One was donning a brilliant white outfit, the sleeves, long and thin, extended passed the hands by a few good centimeters. They were sat on an old worn bench. The once polished wood was now dull and splintering, the cracking and moaning of the joints reminded of its old age. Within the hand, lost within the fabric, held a brush pressed to canvas. The figure wore a dull, tired expression. Their face was long and decorated with dark circles and droopy eyes. The strokes were long, slow and dragging. The strokes of white contrast the green dabbles on the canvas.

The other figure, also in a brilliant white, was crouched before a bed of flowers. His knees were pulled into his chest as his cheek rested on his knees for support. An arm was loosely slung over his feet while the other plucked the brown and bruised white flowers. His expression was also long and gloomy. His lips were in a permanent frown as dark circles rested neatly under his eyes.

It’s been a long day despite the day barely beginning. The sun has yet to reached its prime. 

A cool yet particularly strong breeze swept through the courtyard and caused the flowers to lean and rustle harshly. The dripping white paint was caught by the wind from the brush and splattered to the concrete bricks below. The cool breeze swept through the two figure’s faces sweeping up their hair and drying out their eyes. Both their heads jolted up from the sudden chill, now more awake and sober than their previously drowsy state. They two stood up abruptly and made eye contact with each other. Both heads tilt slightly as two shy hands come up in a small wave. Each person finally realized that they were not alone in the courtyard and the other shared the space with them.

The boy walked forward with a toothy smile showing off his pearly whites that was decorated with braces.

“Hi,” he breathed out sheepishly. “I’m Jeongin.”

“Y/N,” you smiled. Both your cheeks were lightly dusted pink, flustered from not realizing the other was there. Your eyes traveled to his clenched hand and his to your canvas.

“What do you have there?” you both inquired simultaneously, prompting you both to erupt in small giggles.

“White poppies,” you both stated in unison, smiling at each other.

~

Ever since that encounter in the courtyard, you both had become more aware of how you both existed in the same place without realization. Now, you both were content just being in each other’s company. Conversations were minimal and rare, but every single little conversation, every single little word etched themselves in each other’s hearts. 

Jeongin and you were gathered around a table seated opposite of each other. Jeongin had a lovely lavender vase before him. His delicate hands expertly arranged the flowers to be just right, constantly rotating the vase to ensure every single petal, bud and leaf were in the right place. 

You were in the seat opposite of him, with a canvas on an easel stood beside you. Various tubes of acrylics and several brushes of different lengths and sizes were scattered throughout the table before you. Within one hand, hooked on your thumb and supported your fingers as a wooden palette as colorful and vibrant as the gardens of flowers outside. Your other hand held a brush and delicately brushing on strokes of brilliant flowers.

“Jeongin, what is your dream?” you asked. Your soft voice prompted the boy to temporarily pause what he was doing to gaze at you.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me yours,” Jeongin said softly, smiling at you.

You smiled in return. After making brief eye contact, you nodded softly in agreement.

“I want to be a painter, an artist. I want to express my colors on canvas,” you whispered out. Despite the hushed tone, your voice was filled with passion of your desires. Jeongin smiled and chuckled at your passion. It was inspiring whenever you talked about your passions.

“I want to be a florist,” Jeongin responded. “I believe you can pour out an entire heartfelt message in a bouquet of flowers. Each flower has its own meaning and stories. In a perfect combination, you can tell your colorful stories.”

Yours dreams were no stranger. Many of their conversations revolve around their dreams. No matter how many times it’s said, each seemed more beautiful the more it’s repeated and expressed. Jeongin stood with the delicate glass vase within his hands, finished off with a delicate yellow ribbon. His fingers laid the final touches and adjustments. Jeongin walked over to the windowsill and left the vase of brilliant, vibrant purple poppies by the slightly ajar window.

“It’s late,” Jeongin turned and smiled fondly. “Let’s go call it a night.”

“Ok,” you nodded, rinsing your brush in your jar of water as you take a nice long look at your recreation of Jeongin’s vase of flowers.

So what are your dreams?

Are dreams a longing for something you can never grasp? Is it something that lingers throughout a lifetime? Or something that can be easily crumbled and tossed aside? Are dreams achievable or is it only for sleeping?

~

It’s barely midday. The sun was slowly inching towards its prime as the rays shone relentlessly. The wispy rare clouds that come and go provide some relief from the bright rays. The cool breezes perfectly balances out the warmth of the sun. Jeongin and you were sitting in a patch of blooming Dogwoods.

“Have you taken them yet?” Jeongin asked softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear delicately braiding it.

You lightly groaned. “No, I forgot. We should match so we don’t forget.”

“Alright,” Jeongin chuckled softly. He delicately plucked a blooming white flower. It had several white thin petals surrounding the yellow pollen core in many layers. Jeongin’s fingers comb through your hair, flattening loose strands and detangle the strands. He expertly wove smaller strands over and under each other as he inserted the stem of the dogwood and braided it in one after another. Satisfied with the braided flower clown that created, “Beautiful.”

Your cheeks brightened up as a warmth flushed through your body. You quickly turned to face him as you sat on your knees. You leaned forward resting your hands on your knees as support. Jeongin smiled fondly as he unrolled his sleeves, letting the long fabric cascade down.

“Do you think we could ever leave together?” you whispered softly. 

“Maybe,” Jeongin’s voice was soft, but it held a distasteful bitterness where the pair knew that such a thing was not possible.

“Do you think we’ll be able to reach our dreams?”

As both pairs of glimmering eyes met, it was as if the world stopped around them as sparks erupt from within.

“Yes,” Jeongin paused. “But not in the way you expect.”

What is your dream?

You smiled fondly at the boy before you, and he you. You brought your hands up to cup his cheeks within your sweater paws. A soft breeze came by, fluttering both your hairs and rustled the flowers setting the mood. Their hearts fluttered in unison as their breaths mingled. You slowly leaned forward as his eyes trailed down to your lips. Your lips softly met and molded together. It was magical as if it was a beautiful spring day, flowers bloom, many birds singing the sweet song of spring, and bees buzzing from flower to flower for a harvest in the later seasons.

In that moment of time and intimacy, a thought went through both your minds, ‘you are my new dream.’

~

Since then, you’ve both been inseparable. It was as if you both were attached by the hip. You were always seated together with arms linked no matter that you did whether you were painting, Jeongin was trimming flowers or even eating. The only thing the young lovers were barred from was sharing the same bed, but that didn’t deter them from their blossoming relationship.

“Innie, can you help me with still life realism?” you asked politely as you set up your canvas and easel in the center of the courtyard, using the sun as natural light. Jeongin nodded as a bright idea came into mind. He always enjoys delicately putting together bouquets and flower decorations for you and in return, you would capture the bouquets in a still art as you both presented each other with them as heartfelt gifts.

Smiling softly to himself, he held a small rounded glass jar, similar to a fish bowl, and headed towards the fountain in the center. Holding the glass under the cascading waters of the fountain, letting the bowl fill up halfway. He used his sleeve to wipe off the stray droplets on the sides of the glass. He returned back to you and delicately placed the bowl at the center of the worn bench. Jeongin stepped away momentarily to the small man made pond and rolled up his long sleeves. Smiling brightly as his eyes scoped out the one flower in its prime: full bloom and vibrant colors. Dipping his fingers into the cool liquid he reached under the flower between the stem and gently picked up the delicate flower. Returning back to where you were, he separated the stem and gently floated the beautiful vibrant pink lotus into the bowl, letting the lingering water drip from his fingers onto the petals of the lotus. Each droplet perfectly refracted the sun’s rays making it seem as if it’s glimmering.

Your face soured a bit seeing Jeongin’s lackluster display. Jeongin turned towards you with a prideful smile expecting your reaction. You forced out a smile, not trying to hurt his feelings. Jeongin’s smile faltered slightly as worry flashed in his eyes.

“What?” Jeongin asked. “Do you not… like it?”

“No… no, it isn’t like that,” you stuttered, trying to collect and piece your words carefully. “It’s just that… I expected more?”

“Is this not enough? A lotus in full bloom floating on water with droplets reflecting off the sunlight?” his words were pained as he stated, offended.

“I wanted something beautiful and vibrant,” you stated firmly as your eyebrows furrowed. “Something, perhaps like a bouquet of impatiens-”

“This isn’t beautiful and vibrant enough? The lotus is in full bloom. Are you so blind that you can not see the vibrant hue of the pink?” Jeongin spat, his gaze hardened at you.   

“It’s too simplistic!” you snapped, throwing up your hands. Your paintbrush fell to the ground. The atmosphere was so tense and silent, you both can hear the paintbrush clatter almost deafeningly loud. “I don’t need simplicity. I need a challenge. I need several colors, textures and shapes. Give me a bouquet of impatiens, pink petunias or even purple petunias!”

“Might as well add sweet briars to it, yea?” Jeongin returned sarcastically through clenched teeth. Despite his harsh tone, his eyes showed pain. “Why can’t you just appreciate what I’ve given you?”

“Why can’t you appreciate my art? You’re undermining me aren’t you? You think I lack the skill so you give me a simple flower?” 

Jeongin scoffed, turning away and rolling your eyes prior to raising a finger up to you. “Are you even listening to yourself? That’s absolutely ridiculous. Well two can play at this game,” Jeongin tilted his head and blew his fringe out of his eyes as his gaze darkened. “Maybe you’re undermining me by not appreciating my art. Sometimes less is more! You are blind to beauty!”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re absolutely fucking kidding me? Art is vibrant and colorful! Art is an expression of color!”

“Art is more than fucking color!” Jeongin growled, stomping towards you. “Art is an expression of self! There is meaning behind each object. Art is about expressing your feelings and using underlying meanings to tell your story!”

Your eyebrows furrowed as your nose scrunched up. Rage bubbled within you as you clenched your fists. Your breathing became more labored as you wracked your brain to form words, but it was blinded by rage. Seeing red, you shoved Jeongin roughly backwards. Jeongin stumbled over his feet as his arms flailed trying to catch his balance, accidentally knocking over the lotus bowl. The glass broke and shattered on the concrete bricks as water spilled everywhere and the lotus rolled and gathered dirt. 

Jeongin’s eyes widened at the fallen flower and felt as if he was the one who broke and shattered. Enraged as well, his nose scrunched up and his upper lip twitched as he stomped forward grabbing at your canvas and angrily tossed it towards the ground. The canvas bounced pathetically as the wood splintered and broke upon impact. The fabric tore as the wood finally separated. 

You felt your overflowing dam within you on the verge of bursting as tears welled up as your hands found their way to the fabric of Jeongin’s shirt. Jeongin’s hands shot up to grasp at yours to in retaliation. You both were hurting. You both knew your argument was petty and pointless, but your were young and naive. Too stubborn to stand down, but not wanting to hurt the other. So your fight elevated to a series of pushing and pulling as your both stumbled over each other’s feet as both your dams erupted. With one particular push from Jeongin and you pulling him down as you stumbled losing your balance, you both crashed into your easel. The wood frame knocked over as your open jar of paint bounced and spilled into the garden of flowers. The vibrant splash the colors dyed the once white poppies to a menacing red.

You both were sobbing as words that wish to be spoken latched themselves in your throats causing you both to choke on your sobs as you continued your pathetic fight of pushing and pulling. Your heart palpitated in your chest as it felt like you were inhaling pins and needles. Your stomach churned as your hands and feet shook, a sharp stinging pain began growing in your head. Two men in white interfered and tried to separate the two of you. With the forceful separation despite the ongoing fight, you both still reached for each other, the tips of your fingers barely within reach. With a simultaneous cry of each other’s names, the doors shut as you both were pulled into opposite buildings.

Everything hurt. You were curled up into a ball under the warmth of your sheets. The pain in your chest felt heavy and unbearable. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to will away the nausea. Despite all this, despite all the tears, the pounding in your head was unbearable. It felt as if it was eating away at you devouring you whole with no hope of mercy. You cracked your eyes a bit, wincing at the bright light. The bright unforgiving light of the sun coming in through the window worsened your migraine. Your eyes screwed shut as you pulled the sheet over your head as you fell unconscious due to the unbearable pain, the last thing you saw was the daylilies in full bloom swaying in the wind.

~

It’s a dreary day. Beautiful, yet dreary.

The sun is out, the clouds are nowhere to be found, birds are singing as a gentle breeze completed the setting. A cool yet particularly strong breeze swept through the courtyard and caused the flowers to lean and rustle harshly. The two figures in the courtyard stood abruptly due to the sudden chill.

The boy walked forward with a small, bright smile showing off his braces and a shy wave.

“Hi,” he breathed out sheepishly. “I’m Jeongin.”

“Y/N,” you smiled.