#this looks much more saturated on my phone screen than on my computer screen what the freak

[mishkinis]

That's fine, right? Because we're 'friends.' 

[sharoscylla]

hey, i’ve been following your work for a year or two now - i know you’ve been struggling with getting people to interact with your art? you haven’t actually asked for any kind of advice on how to get people to engage more, so stop reading now and just delete this if you don’t want some anonymous person’s opinions on something this personal.

if you ARE open to some unsolicited advice, i’d actually recommend honing in on color theory? you’ve got some really strong skills, with anatomy and expressiveness and line quality and appeal, but i’m not sure your current use of color and saturation lets those elements shine. if you can figure out how to use all those bright saturated colors you adore in a more cohesive way, i think you’ll get much better engagement from your audience!

again, this is completely unsolicited advice from someone too bashful to say it without anonymity, so please feel free to disregard. i do hope that you can learn some skills from that class of yours to apply to your personal marketing, though!

aw, thanks for taking the time, anon!

alas I must admit my color palettes likely suffer on two fronts: I'm much more familiar with paint than anything digital, though I've finally been able to start working more with digital art the last couple years, and also... sigh, I don't know if I fully know what my colors look like. I keep the screens down to 0% brightness on all my devices. I've noticed that paintings I've done in real life are eye wateringly saturated when I pull up a "color corrected" edit I made on someone else's device, even though it looks the most "accurate" to me on my phone/computer/whatever.

I do want to get some color theory exercises done, if only because it's been 15+ years since I last did anything academically with it, but oof, the idea of looking at a screen any brighter than i usually do is making me nervous.

that's good advice! and thanks lol I don't know how much LinkedIn will teach me but we'll see!

[asanda0625]

Managing Mental Health in a Hyperconnected World: Why Digital Detox Matters

In a world overflowing with digital noise, the idea of a "digital detox" has never been more vital. Taking time to disconnect to connect isn’t just about escaping screens, it's a powerful way to tackle stress, boost mental clarity, and rekindle genuine connections with ourselves and others. This concept of taking a break from screens isn’t just a temporary trend; it’s a serious approach to dealing with the mental health issues that come from being constantly plugged in. Let’s explore why digital detoxes are becoming a hot topic, how effective they really are, and what they mean for our society and discover how unplugging can help you find balance and enhance your well-being.

Our phones, tablets, and computers are more than just gadgets; they’ve become a big part of who we are. Social media, in particular, provides endless streams of news, entertainment, and social interactions, which can sometimes be overwhelming. This constant connectivity can lead to problems like anxiety, depression, and trouble focusing. Research shows that too much screen time can cause stress, loneliness, and even disrupt our sleep.

As worries about the negative effects of excessive screen use have grown, the idea of a digital detox has gained popularity. A digital detox means intentionally taking breaks from screens and social media to reduce stress and bring balance back into our lives. This could be a short break, like a weekend without screens, or a longer period of digital fasting (MSEd, 2023).

Many people who try digital detoxes report positive changes in their mental health. Without constant interruptions and less exposure to stressful content, people often feel calmer and less anxious. Time away from digital devices allows for more focused and peaceful moments. Cutting down on screen time, especially before bed, is linked to better sleep. The blue light from screens can interfere with melatonin, a hormone that helps us sleep well. Many find that their ability to concentrate and be productive improves when they aren’t distracted by constant notifications or social media (Kirsty, 2024).

The discussion around digital detoxes highlights a bigger need for better digital habits and balance. Instead of just disconnecting, we should focus on developing healthier ways to use technology. It’s important to understand how to use technology wisely. This means recognizing when we’re spending too much time online and learning how to manage our screen time effectively, for example introducing a rule to stop looking at your phone from 7pm (Kirsty, 2024). Being aware of how we use technology can help reduce its negative effects. This involves setting limits, taking regular breaks, and enjoying offline activities. We also need to value mental health more and make changes in how we incorporate technology into our daily lives.

For example, as a third-year occupational therapy student juggling classes, clinical placements, and endless online research, I decided to embark on a digital detox over a weekend. By disconnecting from screens, I found space for deep self-reflection, practiced mindfulness, and reconnected with friends and family face-to-face. This intentional break not only reduced my stress and anxiety but also enhanced my focus and motivation when I returned to my studies.

In our tech-saturated world, taking time to disconnect to connect is essential for our mental health and is it’s a crucial step towards developing a healthier, more mindful relationship with technology. By stepping away from screens, we not only alleviate stress and anxiety but also create space to reconnect with ourselves and those around us in a meaningful way. As we navigate a world increasingly dominated by screens, how might you incorporate a digital detox into your routine to reclaim balance and enhance your well-being?

REFERENCES

Kirsty. (2024, September 9). Digital Detox - Kaelo. Kaelo. https://www.kaelo.co.za/digital-detox/

MSEd, K. C. (2023, October 31). How to do a digital detox. Verywell Mind. https://www.verywellmind.com/why-and-how-to-do-a-digital-detox-4771321

[alldayangst]

i can see you starin’, honey (Harry Styles)

*It was requested I made this into a full imagine, so I did. You can read the original blurb here. All of my fics are LGBTQ and PoC friendly. Trigger warning for the mention of r*zors (only for shaving!) However, please don’t read if this triggers or makes you uncomfortable! This fic is slightly suggestive, I’d recommend this to mature readers. Summary: Harry is a church boy that goes to church (and reads his Bible 🌚). 

You felt Harry shifting beside you in bed before the Sun had even come up. Hands unwrapping themselves from your waist, phone alarm pulsing like pendulums relentlessly when all you wanted to do was sleep. Before Harry could truly release you from his grip, you held your hands over his and he groaned as if to say ‘I know, I know. I don’t want to go either.’ But his strength was greater than yours and he untangled himself without much of a fight. “Gonna love on you so hard when I get back.” You felt his stubble brush against your cheek as he kissed along your jaw. “I’ll make you forget it’s a Sunday.” 

Harry placed another kiss to your cheek before he got up and you heard the water running after him. Harry was such a good boy. Going to church because his mother asked him to. His niece, Christina, was to be christened that day and Harry simply couldn’t miss it. He’d give up the world for that little girl. Harry didn’t know exactly where he stood with all the faith and magic and constellations in the universe, but he was certain he’d give up the world for you, too. 

Harry’s never known a good shower without music, so your Alexa is more often than not wet and soapy, but Harry doesn’t mind that. I’ll just buy another one, he always says. “Alexa, play Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars.” 

Once upon a time, Harry thought that the radio and its constant saturation of romance songs was just an elaborate lie, ‘cause he’d never experienced first-hand just how great love could feel. Sure enough, looking into your eyes for the first time changed that, and he finally understood how it felt to have hearts in your eyes and butterflies in your stomach. Everything about you made him a Styles sized puddle because he was just that far gone. 

So he meant it when he sang along in earnest into the shower head: “When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change, cause you’re amazing just the way you are,” Harry may be one of the best pop vocalists in his generation but no one has ever sounded great stark in the shower. You giggle as you lean on the doorframe in awe that you’re living in how love is supposed to feel.

“Don’t know why you’re laffin’.” Harry gives a toothy grin. “Not like you could do any better, babe.” Harry almost goes to wrap the towel around his waist, but he decided the better idea was to throw it at your head and run back to your shared bedroom.

“Harry!”

There’s no doubt that you and Harry wasted time, just being the idiots you allowed yourselves to be around each other. Harry had FaceTimed Anne shortly before he needed to go, because there’s no one who can make a boy feel more handsome than his mother. You’d been eating CoCo Pops in his shirt and underwear, with the new episode of The Crown playing from your laptop in the kitchen. And Anne, who loved her son with all her heart, never failed to tell him how it is. “Honey, you look amazing.” His silver Rolex glinted under the light of the camera. “But the facial hair has got to go.”

Harry held his face in fake contempt. “It’s two days of growth!”

“Even better then, you won’t feel as bad for getting rid of it.” Anne didn’t allow time to take ‘no’ for an answer, and her picture got smaller as it zapped off the screen when she ended the call.

Harry had twelve minutes to spare.

“Y/N!” You stopped like you’d been caught in a crime scene, something about Prince Charles continuing to play out of the speakers of your computer. “I need you to help me get this off my face.” he said as he motioned to his stubble.

That’s how you ended up back in the bathroom. Harry had taken out one of the razors from the cupboard above the sink where you sat, the lower half of his face smothered in Gilette. 

“Gotta be ready for church in..” Harry looks down at his watch. “10.” You found it funny how Harry could afford the finer things in life but never made a big deal out of it. You found it especially funny how Harry could afford the finer things in life, including a hair & makeup team at his beck and call, but chose to have you - his baby, his lovie, his world - sat on a sink between his two legs running a cheap BiC disposable razor across his face.

“I love this one the most.” You muttered as you intertwined your two free hands, tracing along the cross tattoo on his hand. “You know what else I love?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, only to see if he would give into the less than holy things of this world one more time before you sent him off to Sunday service.

You banged the razor against the sink, shaving mousse and little brown moustache hairs falling into the basin before you returned to shave your half baby-faced boy.

Sometimes, Harry can’t believe his lucky stars; and thanks God and your mother or whoever made you for doing just that and bringing you to him. “Not one cut! Not one nick!” You exclaim excitedly, as you go to rinse the razor and Harry holds your hips ‘cause he’s just gotta look into your eyes to know that you’re real. And his.

Taglist: @swiftingday

Credit for the gif goes to: /hsgucciking.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works​

[madfantasy]

Hi, I hope your day is going well :)

I'm about to experiment digital art for the first time, and I'm a little nervous... do u have any tips (maybe about the art program ecc.)?

And where should I start as a beginner?

Hello dear🌟

Thank you, and congratulations on the new experience and I hope you find it thrilling! I'm not a tech savy or hardly know enough to use the full capacity of what those programs offer. But I can tell you few things about it, specially based on my practice coming from a traditional background.

But first, talking about art software; there's alot. Depending on what device you're using for a start. My main mane is Sai paint tool 2, and Clip Studio Paint, both PC windows solo and both are not free, so I recommend MediaBang. Its the closet professional free software out there I think. Can be used on all systems, windows android and iOS, if I'm not mistaken. So if you got a pc and android phone, you can easily draw on both with a drawing tablet that works on pc and android! (I only tried it recently tho so I can't tell its a smooth working method)

I was going to recommend you FireAlpaca too as it stood as a replacement for Sai for years but now I downloaded to test and it turned out to be another 'simpler'... mediaBang 8l

I think its a very simple nice way to get you started, its not cluttered and you can find labels easily, now I spent some time on it. It has wonder stabiliser, actually the best on any other software I used. I know it can be a help to get your strokes more clean but there will be ways the debate of not over using them so you wouldn't relay too much on them, which I think its valid, but we are dealing with computers here that has to process everything we move in a certain way, and if your normal strokes on it looks much awful on screen than what you normally do on paper, than some stability tweaking is much better than continuing frustration. (But that's just me side tracking)

The easiest steps into making digital art with any app would be:

Finding a favourite Brush. You can almost use one brush throughout the whole drawing process by minding the size and the density of the brush and really keep tweakingit to your liking. But of course, it can be much neater, and easier, to use a brush for each purpose. Using a hard ege brush like ink to draw lines or sharp edges. Using a soft brush to add shade or color or blend, you can use an airbrush. For blending colors, you can always use watercolour brush, smudge, or blur.

Using layers. One of the best things about digital art is the ability to use layers. You can use as many or few as you like. The starter layer can be the sketch, you lower the opacity and add a new layer on top to ink or define the sketch, when you done you can hide the lower layer by clicking the eye icon and you got yourself a squeaky clean mess, heh. You can also using the blending mode with layers. Let's say you want to add light to your painting, you add a new layer and set ilthe blending to "Add". Then choosing light orange color you draw the sun beam or light up few areas as you like. You can experiment with all of the blending modes as each create a different results and helps tie picture together.

Using Filter. It can help you adjust the picture to the desired hue, saturation and contrast. There's all kind of ways to fiddle with these, you can always Google them to have more understanding of what you're doing. If not, do what the rest of us surely do; slide those bars mad till everything looks pretty, hehe

This is just me nitpicking, but I love to erase with my favourite brush instead of using the eraser, cuz then you keep the pictures harmonious with brush strokes even when you erase something it wouldn't stand out too much in the picture and doesn't introduce unwanted contrast within the drawing's lines, if I'm making any sense. Anyway, you can do that simply by clicking on the transparent square near the colors.

The things the software vary the most on is textures and endless ways to editing the pic, and of course, how smooth the program works with brush strokes and editing them and huge files of canvas. But it all will come in time and you can learn about them easily to find what suits you the best by experimenting on them!

Here's links to more random art tips if any could help:

Art-ing attitude +Simple colour theory

Expressions and posing

Blur and blend

I hope this is of help in any way and I haven't confused you more x'

Wish you all the best, and cheering you on🙌🔥

[nam-nam-joon]

comptine d'un autre été, l'après-midi

or: yoongi's song

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Genre: meet-cute, slow born, fluff

Wordcount: 13.7k

Summary: when your favourite study spot is suddenly unavailable, a fit of annoyance and the tinkling of piano keys lead you to discover an entirely new space. and along with it, someone to keep company.

The library's secretary looked down her nose at you, standing half a step below the desk.

Her voice was notably cooler as she spoke again.

"The section you would like to access is closed for cleaning for the entire week from today on. We apologize for any inconveniences, but there's nothing to be done about it. You will have to go and study elsewhere, I'm afraid."

The old crone leaned back in her chair, her beady eyes fixated on the screen of her computer once more. The chain on her glasses jingled softly.

You turned away from her, staring into the rows of bookshelves accusingly while the fingers around a stack of papers holding it up to your chest tapped furiously.

No studying in the library today.

Great.

There was no other place as good to study in as that particular nook you'd found while one day idling between the rows; nowhere else could you focus so well, so thoroughly. Hours could pass while you were engrossed in the material, and the prospect of being robbed of that, today of all days - and furthermore, for the whole week?

The sun falling through the narrow, high windows suddenly didn't seem as bright and cheery anymore.

Briefly you debated just sitting at one of the long tables in the main area, with everyone else - but quickly scrapped that thought. There were more people than usual there, courtesy of the partial blockage no doubt, and you knew it just wouldn't work out.

Still steaming, you turned a corner and pushed through the first set of doors you could find, really needing some air after this monumental setback.

The fresh breeze hit your face. It slipped through your jacket and caused a shiver to run down your entire form.

Blinking against the light you tried to orientate yourself.

A few steps forward on the stones surrounding this entrance, green with moss here and there, didn't bring the expected clarity concerning your surroundings that you'd hoped for; but instead you realized this was simply a part of campus you apparently had never seen before.

The curiosity about this new, uncharted area grew into the hollow left by the frustration. If you wouldn't be able to study in your favourite spot, you could at least roam the area here and see what mysteries might be hidden.

There was a lot of grass between the occasional tree, on a long hill softly sloping down into the residential area across a street down below. Then there were the campus buildings with their windows. Most had their blinds drawn, and only those on the higher floors were cracked open to let some air in.

It was so quiet.

Somewhere almost out of hearing range was a tingling sound, like windchimes.

You took a deep breath.

There was nowhere specific to go.

Already the stress about meeting your deadlines, the library closing down, it began to lose its edge.

The tinkling came wafting over with the breeze again and you turned your face towards it, feet beginning to move before you'd fully settled on what to do, where to go next.

The stones forming the path around the building were barely visible under the encroaching greenery. They cushioned your steps and softened the ground. A corner lay ahead, and after turning you were presented with more green space between two buildings, eventually ending in a wall that was most likely part of the ancient university campus, overgrown with ivy but still standing strong against time.

The tinkling had shifted from vaguely sounding like windchimes to definitely piano tunes, but it was still nice.

About three quarters to the wall stood an old picnic table under a maple tree.

The surface was a bit uneven, the table was made out of wood and students and time alike had both carved into the soft material.

The seat was slightly damp as well - you remembered the few drops this morning on your way to your lecture - but with your jacket placed over the seat it was a nice spot.

Great, even, as soon as the sun peeked through the clouds again, bringing warmth into the still air of the secluded spot.

Whoever was playing piano was probably close by, you thought after working on the sheets you'd brought for a bit.

The tunes perfectly fit into the overall mood resting in this place, underlining the tranquil state lasting over it.

It was like you had stepped into a pocket universe, with the general buzz of campus being left behind.

The chiming of a bell tower roused you from your work pace. Not having fully arrived in the real world yet you reached for your phone to check the time after counting the rings of the bell - was it really 5pm already?

Apparently it was, and you hurried to collect everything and stuff it into your bag.

Shouldering it, you brushed off your jacket and looked over the place to make sure you hadn't left anything behind once more before it really was time to leave if you still wanted to catch your usual train home.

The music was silent as you took your leave, and you wondered for how long it had been like that already.

Pushing through the doors back into the library was like waking from a pleasant dream. Even though it was the library, and as such calmer than the rest of campus, there was still the usual ruckus. A myriad of voices whispering and creating the white noise backdrop for shoes squeaking, chairs dragging over the floor, doors closing and the occasional shout.

The big communal university spaces were almost too loud to bear and you squinted your eyes at the air saturated with sounds.

Once the entrance hall gave you free and you were hurrying towards the public transport stations it was better again, but there was still a lot more technical sounds digging into your ear drums. You resolved to plugging your headphones in and were able to breathe a little easier while on your commute home, even without music playing.

The next day was free, no lectures to attend, but you still returned to get some more work done.

For a while you were afraid you wouldn't be able to find the picnic table under the maple tree again; that it had all been a wonderful, too good to be true, dream - but your nook in the library was still closed off and there was the door you'd gone through yesterday.

The table was still there, as was the tree, and today the wood was fully dry and birds were chirping in the ivy on the wall.

With a drink in hand and happiness upon finding the wonderful small place again in your heart you sat down to work again, and even though it was tedious and required a lot of forced attention, it somehow felt a little better doing it out here.

Every once in a while you had to make a break and go for a toilet run, refilling your water bottle or simply eating a snack you'd brought.

Between yesterday and today you hadn't seen anyone else out here, and so had little qualms about leaving your stuff unattended. Safe your phone and wallet, of course.

The sun, blinking through the clouds now and then, slowly wandered over the sky.

It must have been early afternoon when you lifted your head after a particularly nasty paragraph and heard the piano play again.

A smile spread on your face as you stretched your arms and allowed yourself a break, sat back and just listened to the notes.

Whoever was playing was good.

Not that you were an expert, but your ears liked it and that was what primarily counted.

Occasionally there was a break in the flowing tune, when whoever was playing went back and redid a couple notes, sometimes once, sometimes needing two attempts, until they were satisfied and continued.

You smiled and let your thoughts wander, momentarily forgetting about your work.

The week of not having access to your library nook went by much faster than anticipated.

On the following monday you stood in the foyer, waiting for a friend, when the small sign "Library fully open again!" caught your eye.

You stared at it for a moment longer, suddenly remembering that you had only found the almost magical table away from the craze of reality solely because there had been cleaning business at work cutting you off your old favourite spot.

You were still mentally trying to puzzle everything out when Jin came floundering around the corner, steps wide and an easy smile spreading on his face at your sight.

"-to one~!"

"What?" You looked up, and the expression on the other's face fell a bit.

"Aha! So you weren't listening at all, after all."

"Sorry. Bit caught up in my thoughts. Was there something you wanted to say?"

"Will you be telling me your secret how you worked through the entire material to that first book we're reading, already? Like… That was inhumanely fast. I know you're good, but honestly. Tell me your secrets." He poked a finger into the soft area between ribcage and belt, and you swerved to the side and away from him to escape it.

"A brilliant work ethic and iron self-discipline!" You chirped and Jin rolled his eyes with an overly dramatic sigh. He hooked an arm around your shoulder and dragged you into his side.

"If the Prof is threatening to let me fail this course, will you tell me then?"

"Kim Seokjin you better not be deliberately slacking off."

"I wasn't!" He pouted, steering you into the right hallway. "Not before, anyways. But if there's a cool new drug like Why-Phy that you're taking to get done sooner, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course. It's either Why-Phy or blue crystal meth, Jinnie, you know me too well."

The brunet laughed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

Three weeks since the library had reopened and you still had yet to return to the comfortable little chair next to the table with its small reading light.

You'd been lucky with the weather.

So far it had only rained or been too windy to sit outside longer on days you were too busy to get work done next to the lectures, or had to go early because of your job on the side.

Looking up through the leaves on the tree, blinking against the sun, you hoped it would continue to stay like this.

It felt so nice to be here, so private.

The windows leading into the yard were never not covered with blinds, at least the ones in the part of the building you were looking at frequently whenever your eyes needed a break.

The most noise was the wind in the tree or the ivy; occasionally students would sit on the other side of the wall and have a chat but that was about it.

That, and the piano music.

By now you were fairly certain it came from a room on the first floor, somewhere above the place you were sitting at, but there was no way to look into any of the rooms there.

As you turned and squinted up to them once more, not really seeing them but more wondering what might lay beyond the glass, something moving caught your eye.

Had it been an animal?

You blinked to clear your vision, but by then whatever had caused the disturbance had disappeared.

Maybe someone had looked down?

The uncomfortable feeling hadn't taken root fully before you shooed it away; surely it had been something else, a reflection of a passing bird, probably. And even if someone had looked out and seen you sitting here, so what? It wasn't illegal.

You ended your self-assigned break and went back to the material, but the thought of someone watching you, intruding on the privacy you'd enjoyed here, didn't fully leave your mind.

After finishing up early for the day you decided to go try and see if there was a way into the building you'd sat in front of so often now, and if, maybe, you'd be able to find the room the music was coming from every other day.

By the time you had bested the maze of hallways and never before used by you doors leading into other unknown parts of the campus, it was late already.

You tried some of the doors that you thought were on the right floor, but all of them were locked and there was no music coming from anywhere, either.

Disappointed, you went home.

It was the weekend afterwards, but on the next monday you were back, now finding your way to the remote, barely used building a little easier already. There was a nice long break before your next lecture and you were curious to explore more.

You held the door open after passing through as someone approached from the inside, and then went on. Silence lasted on the hallways here.

A window going out from the staircase showed the familiar corner, with the last bit of the library barely visible behind it, and you felt satisfied knowing this was where you'd wanted to go.

On the first floor you paused to catch your breath.

The lights were on overhead, but no other person was in sight.

The doors were locked as well, much like they had been on friday.

You had almost given up hope when a knob turned in your palm and you almost fell into the room behind it as the door gave away.

Dust danced in the spare light that fell through the windows.

Sheets of paper littered the floor. A few tables were pushed to the walls, there was an old cupboard missing its two front doors. More paper and empty binders were stacked in the exposed compartments.

What dominated the room though was the grand piano in its middle.

The shiny black surface beckoned to be touched by your fingertips, and you couldn't hold back from running them over the sleek paint.

It seemed old, if the slightly rusted wheels at the bottom of the pillars it was standing on were anything to go by, but it looked very well kept.

The cover lowered over the keys opened without sound. Black and white keys shared the space underneath it.

It felt wrong to push them, entice sound when you knew there were usually much more skilled hands at work here, and so you gently put the cover back and let your gaze explore the room more.

A big sheet covered a mixpult along one of the walls, several electric keyboards were stacked on the floor beside it.

The walls were a faded yellow which must've been nice once but now looked stale.

There was more paper around the piano, discarded sheet music, printed and self-written, you noticed with surprise as you bent down to inspect it.

Maybe a handful were pinned to the wall closest to the piano, exclusively hand written and, by the looks of it, self-composed.

Whoever was working their magic here so often really had a passion, it seemed, and it made you wonder why they weren't busy doing this over in the faculty for music.

Then again, you mused while stepping up to the window, this place was incredible in getting creative juices flowing. You'd experienced it yourself with work, could only guess at how it must be for someone so musically inclined.

Your picnic table under the maple tree was maybe three steps to the right underneath the window, in direct line of sight from where you stood.

It felt almost weird, knowing that if whoever was practicing here so often had even only once stood up and walked towards the window to look outside had most likely seen you sitting under the tree.

A moment longer you hung after your thoughts.

Then you blinked and remembered that you were probably not welcome here, with the expensive piano and the private compositions, and quickly and silently left the room again, making sure to close the door behind you.

You didn’t go back again in the afternoon, but as you sat down two days later, the tinkling of the keys was drifting down to your spot once more. Smiling about their company, you focused on your work.

It seemed like good things wouldn't last.

The professors heaped enormous amounts of extra essays, excerpts and transcriptions upon each of your heads, and caught between balancing your work and study life, along with having to prep multiple presentations, you were left yearning for the calm spot beneath the tree.

Namjoon had managed to get you to admit where you'd been vanishing off to over the past weeks; after loudly proclaiming that even though the library had been squeaky clean for weeks now he had yet to see you return to your spot.

"Well maybe I found a better spot!" You defended your absence, over lunch in the cafeteria.

"Aha!" Jin yelled, making everyone in a five meter radius around him flinch. "So you have been hiding! I knew it."

"It's just a tiny spot under a tree, outside the old Uni's wall. Stumbled upon it by accident, but a total good find."

“I see.” Namjoon was too intelligent to not notice you didn’t really want to talk about this and soon after dropped the topic.

Rain ran down the windows in streams and you sighed at its presence.

Like this there was no way to get out to the table, and even if it would have cleared up instantly - the wood would need at least several hours in direct sunshine to dry.

Seemed like the last of your luck had run out.

With the lighting from inside the hallways the world outside was hardly recognizable.

You loved the library, and especially the little nook, but there was just something about that table and the tree out among the downpour that was a lot more appealing now than your old favourite spot.

Sitting down anywhere else seemed impossible. Especially, you dimly thought to yourself, especially because the music would be missing.

It was ten times better than listening to your own stuff, because you didn't have to choose what to hear and couldn't simply skip tracks. A little like radio; you could just hear what was given to you, but unlike radio there were no ads.

You found yourself on ground level of the deserted building, hand on the railing and foot on the first step of the stairs before you realized - you could just sit down somewhere close to the room, listen if someone was playing today and do your work there.

Fuelled by this revelation you took the steps two at once and arrived in the hallway a little out of breath, with your heart pounding not only from the exercise.

There it was. The music.

Inexplicably content about the recent developments you picked a clean enough looking spot on the floor, opened your bag and pulled out your notes.

It wasn't as nice as sitting outside, you came to see. Natural light was a lot better to read and work alongside texts with, and the artificial kind provided here could simply not compete.

Still, with the musical undertones, you were able to cross at least some of the workload off before you allowed yourself to sit back against the wall, ignore the stupid pages in front of you and simply listen to what was being played.

It had shifted in the last days. Had it been pieces vaguely familiar to you at the start had the melodies become more and more unrecognizable over time, and now you sat a few steps from the door, eyes closed and listening, thoughts drifting further from the sheets surrounding you by the minute.

The melody was low, subdued but still driving. It sounded like something that would play at the start of a movie, a car ride maybe, with the glowing lights of a city pouring through the windows but no sound audible but this song.

It felt like the car was on its way somewhere, somewhere important, and the people inside the car knew of the importance of this destiny but were too overwhelmed to talk about it.

Maybe the scene would end at the sea, the viewer expecting to hear the ocean's waves crash against the cliff, the gulls crying overhead, but the song would continue playing.

Softly, the tune changed, and you furrowed your brows.

The melody gradually lightened until the great weight was fully lifted from it and the scene with the car and the lights and the muted ocean seemed entirely unfitting. This was more like spring, breathing in the warming air, seeing the sun again after months, that kind of stuff.

You were still drifting, trying to think of what else it reminded you of when the silence became more pronounced. Whoever it was had stopped playing, and you opened your eyes, falling from the small clouds of dreaming back into the shabby hallway.

Steps rang out behind the door, a window closed and you stared at your bag and the spread out work in horror. There was no time to pack it all up.

The door clicked open.

A pair of dark eyes stared into yours, the look of surprise at so unexpectedly seeing the other on both your faces.

Black hair reached over eyebrows, barely visible through a split in the strands.

A hand clutched what looked like a set of keys, the sleeve of the dark hoodie almost slipping over it.

He was first to break the moment of pure surprise. Clearing his throat he stepped out of the room fully, pulled the door shut behind him.

By then you'd managed to look down on the orderly mess you'd made and back up.

"I really like your music." You attempted a smile. The guy, likely not much older than you, pressed his lips into a line.

"Thanks."

It sounded softer than his expression had led you to believe. His eyes flitted over the floor for a bit before he spoke again, not having moved much more than a step. "You really shouldn't be sitting around here, I don't know when it got cleaned last."

"Ah." You twirled your pen. "Well…"

The dark haired stranger sniffed and buried his hands in his pants’ pockets, squaring his shoulders in a way that made him look incredibly uncomfortable.

"Did I interrupt something? Do you need me to move or-" You trailed off.

"No! No, no." He was quick to interrupt, one hand stretched out to halt your beginning frenzy of packing up. "No, it's alright, you weren't- doing… anything." He coughed and rubbed his neck with the free hand. "You… You usually sit outside, under the tree, right?"

You met his gaze, saw his eyes glinting once before he looked away, scuffing a used Vans sneaker on the floor.

"-Yeah, that's true. Couldn't really, today…" Gesturing towards the rain-streaked window, the other followed your line of sight and huffed.

"Yeah, weather's been shit all day. The library's probably chock full, too." He trailed off, and you observed with interest how he seemed to build himself up to the next thing to say.

"I've been… seeing you. Not wanting to sound like… a creep or so, I just- I noticed you sat outside quite often."

You smiled, and his shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Yeah! I wandered around after the library was closed for cleaning the other day, and came across this place. It's amazing. So quiet and basically nobody around… and the background music is great, too."

He looked down on his shoes at your words but you could see how one corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

"This was by the way a major factor for coming here today. It's just- Quiet, void of any people? Very few distractions? Plus free music? There's just no other place where I can get all that."

He rolled his eyes but the smile on his lips broadened. When he moved his head you could see the tips of his ears peeking through his hair, both a healthy shade of red.

"Min Yoongi." He held out his hand after studying you for a moment. "Resident ambience dealer, apparently."

Grinning, you took his larger palm, feeling the bones in his thin fingers as you told him your own name. "-Resident study freak and avid listener to Min Yoongi's compositions."

He grumbled at that. "You listen to piano a lot?"

"Not really. Only when I come here."

This time his eyes stayed on you for longer, and he leaned his back against the opposite wall while slowly easing closer to the ground.

"Then how did you know it was my own stuff I was playing?"

You tugged some papers closer by their corners, beginning to shepherd them together.

"I was in there some time ago, when you weren't there. Wanted to know where the music was coming from, took me ages to even find a way into this place. Your room is really messy, you know that?"

His face was halfway turned away again but at the humour in your voice he looked back, pout on his features.

"I never meant for anyone else to see in the first place! You don't get to complain!" He huffed, glancing at where you were chuckling across from him at his indignant outcry.

"Okay okay, I promise I won't go back inside. But that what you played last today, that was really good. Is that one of yours, too?"

He bit on his bottom lip and nodded, fingers rubbing over the fabric of his pants stretching over his knees.

“What’s your major? Music?”

“Something in that direction, yeah.” Then, after a pause in which he seemed to realize it would be the polite thing to do, he asked: “You?”

The rain continued to run down the glass as you spoke, telling the other about your plans with studying, and the hopes you had. He listened intently and only rose his voice after it was obvious you had ended, and it created a nice back and forth. Thunder clapped outside, growling and forcing him to speak up a little more.

You sighed.

"Guess I better head back if I still wanna make it home today." You swept the last of the sheets together and put them into their binder, shoving the concoction unceremoniously back into your bag.

You brushed a bit of dust off your pants and quietly pulled a face as you peeled a long hair with cobwebs off your pants.

When you met Yoongi's eyes he looked off to the side, softly shrugging. "Told you…"

"Are you heading back, too?" Now it was him looking up at you, hands linked over his knees.

"Yeah?"

You held out your hand, and after mustering it for a moment, he took it.

Either he had a lot of self-control over his body or he wasn't weighting much; either way you pulled him up and then he was towering over you once more.

"You have a car?" You asked him on the way down, looking up from the keys in his hand.

"Hm? Oh. Oh yeah. Just- It’s a hand me-down from my brother."

He cleared his throat.

"Aren't you afraid someone's gonna steal your stuff?"

He turned his head towards you, his eyebrows creasing the skin between them.

"Because you don't lock the room?" You elaborated. Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, focusing on the steps down.

"Not really. As far as I know it's only us knowing of these rooms even being here, and most of them are locked, so…"

"But you keep copies of your songs, right? Photos or some app to write it down with?" He looked at you like you had just proposed to assassinate the Dean.

"No?" He held the door open for you and then you were out in the main part of campus again.

Part of you had wondered if Yoongi would just straight up disappear as soon as you crossed the threshold, but it appeared he was very much real as he fell into step alongside you.

"Then what if someone does get in? And steals them? Or you forget to close the window and rain gets in and ruins the sheets?"

He shrugged, and the way he seemed to care so little frustrated you.

"But it's such great music!"

He shrugged again but looked on his shoes while doing so.

For a moment you were quiet, staring straight ahead while the thoughts were racing behind your forehead.

"-"

"No."

"I haven't said anything!"

He glared at you from the corner of his eyes. "But you were going to. Whatever it is, no. If anything happens to my music, that's my business, okay? Don't worry about it."

His resolute tone halted every attempt at clapping back in its core, and the few minutes it took until you were out in the entrance hall that was swimming with how many students came in and went you spent in silence.

Yoongi half turned towards you when you were already beaming up at him. "I'll hear you around?"

"-Fuck me." He covered his face with a hand and you laughed at his exasperated groan at your joke.

"Bye Yoongi!"

"Honestly, get lost..."

You were on your way to the table again, binder under your arm. Rounding the corner and you would have almost slipped on the moss growing over the path; you stared back and silently cursed while being glad you didn't actually fall.

The surface of the desk was wet when you reached it.

"It's been like, an entire day, why are you not dry." You said lowly, feeling the top down. Definitely too wet for anything paper related.

"You're late."

You looked up at the drawl, only needing a moment until your eyes fixed on the mop of hair peeking out of the window.

"Oh, yeah?" You looked down on the table, not really knowing what else to say. "Well... your ass is late, too."

"The fuck."

The confusion on Yoongi's face was a delight to see. A moment longer you stayed rooted to the spot next to the table, then his voice came again.

"You wanna come up here now or what. That desk won't dry up until tomorrow. If you're lucky."

Squinting up you shielded your eyes against the glare of the bright clouds overhead.

"You won't mind?"

Yoongi seemed to momentarily contemplate it, looking straight ahead. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, you can either get your ass wet sitting outside, or get it dirty sitting in the hallway, but if you enjoy my music really that much it'll be a total experience sitting in the same room while i play. Your choice."

He vanished from the open window and closed it, only leaving a crack open.

Your fingers tapped on the binder.

Five minutes later you knocked on the blank door, waiting patiently in your spot until steps sounded out and Yoongi opened.

He was sporting the same dark hoodie today, fidgeting with the sleeves of it.

"May I come in?" You inquired, and he wordlessly stepped aside.

Together with Yoongi's help you pulled one of the overturned tables right way up, found a suitable chair and then wiped the surfaces off. There was a small sink in the adjacent storage room, with running water and all, and eventually your new desk was in a condition you deemed okay.

You sat down on your chair and Yoongi, who'd been brooding over his sheet music since you'd shooed him off to clean everything by your standards, looked back down on the floor. He perched on the run down piano stool, elbows on his knees, and peered on the papers strewn across the ground.

Occasionally he'd bend down to pick one up but you had too much to do to really watch him for longer.

At one point he turned and you allowed yourself a moment of rest. He pushed the hoodie up his arms, almost to his elbows, before his fingers placed themselves on the keys and he started to play.

He had been right. It was something entirely else to sit in the same room with him while he played.

Like this the music drowned out any other sound that may have sailed in from outside; whether it be the call of bird or bell.

It was nice.

Your thoughts calmed down until they ran smooth, circling around topics once or twice before moving on.

The world existed only in this room, the music filled your ears and the shabby lighting overhead concealed the darkening sky outside.

At one point Yoongi stood in front of your table, fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie once more. His knuckles pushed at his skin. The edge of one sleeve was beginning to fray.

Mildly irritated, you looked up and met his eyes.

"What?"

"Uh isn't this the time you usually leave?"

You held contact a moment longer before looking down on your watch and tsking disapprovingly. Yoongi's shoulders twitched up.

"Shit, it is."

Ripped out of the peaceful mood you began to collect pages and close books, mentally going through the timetable and if you’d still make the train. "Are you heading out, too?"

He nodded and, growing braver again, stacked a few materials while you shoved everything in your bag. "Thanks." You hurried.

It'd be a bit tight, time-wise, but Yoongi's long legs effortlessly kept pace with your quick steps.

"How'd you know this was my time to leave, anyways?" You narrowed your eyes at him, not hiding the smile on your lips. "Have you been stalking me?"

Yoongi opened and closed his mouth without saying anything once or twice before he looked ahead and said "It was the time you left, last time." His shoulders were still drawn up as he peeked at you from the side. "I'd never-"

"I was kidding." You took half a step to the side and bumped your elbow into the general area of his arm. His hand reflexively came up and clutched the spot.

“I'm a creature of habit. If I miss this train I'll have to wait forever until the next one comes and that's always a huge pain."

He nodded, and shortly after, bid you farewell before you parted behind the front doors.

It had rained the entire weekend long and you didn't bother to go outside to the table, instead turning left before the library even came into view and headed straight for Yoongi's hideaway.

He didn't open when you knocked and you found the room empty after peeking inside.

He came in half an hour after you, in a dark blue hoodie this time, and looked a bit startled at seeing you there.

"Hi!" You smiled at him, over the backrest of the chair. "I hope you don't mind, it rained again and I-"

He shrugged and shuffled past you, heavily slumping down in front of the piano.

He didn't say anything and his melodies today were slow and deep.

Before you could turn to leave after the clock had well advanced, his back straightened and, anticipating him speaking up, you paused; jacket already on and bag in hand.

"Thanks for not asking me what's wrong."

He was talking to the piano, but you still smiled a bit.

"Of course."

"I don't know, if, I said it already but, you're very- welcome to come here if, you know, the weather…"

You looked down on your shoes. Only after it didn't seem like he was going to finish his sentence did you raise your voice.

"I don't think you did, but I really appreciate it. Thank you. Will you stay a little longer today?"

His gaze fled your face for his piano again after you raised your head.

"Yeah."

"Take it easy, Yoongi."

"Whatever."

You smiled at him even though you didn't know if he'd see, and then headed out.

You'd gotten ahead of homework and so could ease a little during your work sessions in Yoongi's piano room now, and during one of those easier days decided to finally ask the question that had been bouncing around your head for a while now.

"How'd you get the piano tuned? And isn't it really old?"

He didn't look up from his sheet, brows still furrowed at something he'd probably written down a few days ago and now wasn't satisfied with anymore.

"I watched a few Youtube tutorials."

You put your chin in one of your hands and grinned, but Yoongi broke eye-contact quickly after glancing your way.

"You did it yourself?"

"Yeah? Wasn't. Wasn't that hard."

Your grin widened and his glare intensified at its presence. "Min Yoongi. Musical Genius."

"Shut up."

His ears coloured red and gave him away, and you'd have loved to go over and give him a quick hug.

You didn't know how many other people got to appreciate him, but if his hideout here was anything to go by it weren't many. Probably.

He was adorable.

Even when the sun was shining outside and it had been dry for several days you wouldn't go to the little desk, favouring the clear sound of Yoongi playing and his occasional comment, mumbled to himself. It was far too cold now, anyways. Winter was fast advancing as November went on.

He had a way to be in the same space with you while not demanding any of your attention - which made it incredibly pleasant to have him around.

If you weren’t spending time together in amicable silence he was surprisingly easy to talk to. Most of his answers were short, or mumbled sounds, and yet you never got the impression he was fed-up or annoyed. He asked things too, occasionally; and though objectively you hadn’t known him that long, it still felt weird to remember there had been a time without him in your life.

Once, after you'd struggled with a particularly boring part of a required text that your brain just wouldn't process at all, he'd quietly asked if you could come over and take a look at something he'd been working on.

You stared at him, the skin between your eyebrows creased.

"Yoongi I don't know anything about music. Do you really-"

"Please?"

"...Fine."

You were standing next to him already, preparing to sit, when he parted his lips and looked up at you.

"Could you… sit with your back to the keys? It's just, I…"

It wasn't his fault, you were frustrated by the text; but you couldn't help the forced exhale of air that left your nose.

Yoongi's shoulders twitched. You hesitated, wanted to say something, didn’t find the words and then made an effort to move as calmly and quietly as possible to not upset him further.

"Sorry. Long day.” You said in a low voice, feeling strangely raw. “Play, if you… if you want?"

You could see him looking at you, through the corners of your eyes, and part of the tension left his form again at your words, underlying tone asking for forgiveness.

"S'alright." He breathed, just before clearing his throat and placing his hands on the keys.

As he played, the tight knit ball of jumbled thoughts behind your forehead stopped growing.

The longer you listened, the more tension left your brain; the cramped thoughts and need-to-do’s losing their alarming vibrant colours.

You felt yourself calm down.

He broke off playing and coughed nervously.

"So that- was version one. This is version two."

And he began to play again, the same piece, though slightly different, and this time you reminded yourself to pay more attention and really listen.

After he'd finished, the frustration over your text had thinned out and you were fully focused on the task at hand.

"So?" He asked, nervously rubbing his hands together.

"Can you play the first one again? Just for comparison?"

He nodded and went back to it.

"I think I like the first one better.” You decided. “The second one… implies something darker lurking beneath, and, I guess if that's what you intended it's executed well but the rest sounds lighter and so-"

He huffed out a laugh and dropped his head, hands sandwiched between his thighs.

"Hm? Not good? What I said?"

"No, no," He hurried to reassure, eyes gleaming under his fringe. "No, it's… I was hoping you'd say that, I guess. Gives me a reason to scratch this part. Didn't even like it much, I just felt- Yeah. Thanks."

At the almost-grin spreading on his lips you had to smile as well.

Had your shoulders touched during the entire time you'd sat here?

He broke the eye-contact first, looking back towards the keys once before meeting your gaze again.

"Rough day hm?"

"Yeah." You looked ahead, not really seeing the wall there. "Yeah, you could say that…"

Another sigh and then you were feeling the exhaustion more and more.

It was a spur of the moment thing, really, and you asked before you could hold yourself back.

"Are you okay with touches?"

"Ha? What do you-"

"Can I put my head on your shoulder?"

"Oh. Uh-"

"It's- It's fine if you don't want that," You hurried to backpedal, already mentally chiding yourself. "I'll be o-"

"No, it's, uh, you, ah, you can! Put your head on… yeah. I don't mind."

His voice got quieter and quieter until he was mumbling the last sentence.

His shoulder, although cushioned by his hoodie, was bonier than you'd thought. But it was nice, to rest for a moment, and you closed your eyes, exhaling slowly.

Yoongi's breathing had his shoulders rising and falling, and unconsciously, you adapted your rhythm to his, until you were breathing in synch.

"Thank you." You mumbled, adjusting your head and feeling your forehead brush his hood.

"Don't worry about it." This up close his voice was even deeper, and the low tone soothed the rawness your ears had suffered under for the past days in crowded lecture halls and hallways.

Ever so softly his cheek came to rest against the top of your head as he gave into the shy touch.

"Do you sing, Yoongi?"

You still had your eyes closed, listening to Yoongi's breathing and the sound his clothes made when they rubbed against themselves, against his skin.

"Sometimes." He answered after a pause. "More rap than… singing lullabies."

"I bet you sound good doing either."

He snorted, which pretty clearly gave away how little he thought of your compliment.

A moment long neither of you spoke.

Then he let out a heavy sigh.

"Why exactly do you think that?"

Your left arm was slightly pushed forward as he moved his left arm, from where the backs of your forearms were pressed against each other.

"You have a very nice voice, deep, and steady, and- It has that ring to it, you know, the same undertone. Some people speak and you can't really make out the tone or… colour… of their speech, but your voice doesn't jump around. You could probably read a phone book and make it sound nice."

"Okay that just ruined everything you said before."

"Oh fuck off! You asked!" There was a laugh in your voice as you lifted your head to look at him exasperatedly. He blinked, looking a bit sleepy, as if he had rested his eyes a little, too.

At your expression he hollowed out his cheeks.

"Jeez, don't behead me. I'll take it, okay? Happy now?"

"Yes. Thank you."

You pursed your lips and waited, until Yoongi would break eye-contact, but he didn’t surrender as quickly. He blinked and kept looking, and everything in you wanted to put your head back down, back on his shoulder, and stay like that a little longer, talk a bit more.

But this small break had gone for a bit too long already and you knew you should get back to work. That text sadly wouldn't read itself.

An unfamiliar touch on your arm held you back.

"Can you stay a bit longer?"

Half standing above him already he had to tilt his head so he could look at you.

"I really should-" You began, and then sighed, admitting that you really didn't want to move to yourself, and sat back down. "...Screw that text."

Yoongi's shoulder bumped yours, almost like an invitation, and you gave in without much thought.

You felt the bones shift as Yoongi lifted his hands and began to press single keys, filling the silence of the room with tunes.

"That text got you all worked up, hm." He spoke again after a while.

You frowned at nothing.

"It's just so dull. The professor said it serves as an example of what not to write, so it's basically just- we're just supposed to read it and mark all the mistakes, to avoid doing the same mistakes, but honestly… I know how and what I have to write, I shouldn't- Ugh. See? It's annoying me again already."

You huffed, leaning a bit more on Yoongi.

His cheek found your hair again and he chuckled.

"What's that idiot done wrong in his writing then?"

You weren't so sure afterwards, if he really had wanted to know or if this was just Yoongi's way of getting you to review the material differently, but you supposed it had worked out.

It was a lot easier to read and complain aloud while he sat next to you and listened to you rant, even though the finer nuances were surely lost on him since he wasn't studying the same thing.

On your way back to your flat you held your left arm with your right until you saw yourself in a reflection and noticed it.

Sitting next to Yoongi like that had only further proved how comforting his presence was, and now, without anything like that to be repeated in the foreseeable future, the missing touch felt a lot worse than where you had been before.

Technically you'd see him again tomorrow, or the very least Thursday.

But who was to say he'd ask you to sit with him again?

You ran into him during lunch the next week after not making it back to his room before that.

He was looking off to the side, in the direction of the lousy holiday decorations that had popped up in the major community spaces - You needed a moment to recognize him as the same guy who was playing piano while you studied. His bare arms, sticking out of a black shirt that hung from his shoulders, were almost shocking. That, and the surroundings clashing so harshly with what you were used to see him surrounded by.

“Hey, Yoongi!” You called out after the realization had sunk in, and turned with the tray in your hand.

His shoulders jerked up, but as his searching gaze connected with yours he relaxed.

“Hi.” He rubbed over his neck. “What are you…” His eyes fell on the food you were balancing in your hands. “Right. Lunch.”

“Are you headed somewhere?” You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. Yoongi shook his head slowly, hands clenching around his hoodie he carried in them.

“Wanna sit with my friends and me? They’re just over there, next to the pillar.”

“Uh-”

“They’re all really friendly and don’t bite, I promise.”

“...Fine.” He sighed and trudged after you as you turned.

Whenever he agreed to do something you had proposed to him he made it out to seem like it was a decision that had taken him weeks to arrive to, or if it was something incredibly heavyweight he couldn’t just agree to, but whenever you offered him to go back on saying yes, or reminding him he could opt out any moment, he was always vehement to defend his point. It almost looked like he did things purely out of spite even when you’d meant well to second-guess his willingness to cooperate.

It was the same today, as he followed you through the rows, and then pulled out a chair next to yours as you put the tray down.

“Friends, this is Yoongi. He plays piano.”

“My most defining feature, apparently.” He grumbled in response and sat down, not after shimmying into his hoodie.

“Oh hey Yoongles!” Jin perked up, the burrito in his hands falling apart. “You two know each other?!”

“That does surprise me, I agree.” Hoseok added, stealing bits of the filling of Jin’s food that fell to the plate below. The quirky guy had one day invited himself into your circle of friends and nobody had had a heart to kick him out, but apparently he did know other people on campus save your group.

“You know him?” You retorted, pulling out your water bottle before starting on the food.

“Some people socialize, my dear friend.” Jin said, swatting at Hoseok’s hand.

“Yeah I know, I wasn’t aware Yoongi did that.”

“Ouch?” The black haired guy next to you said and got a round of laughs back.

“Sorry.” You apologized. He stole the small package of chips from your tray and opened it.

“I mean, it’s kind of true, I suppose.” He relented.

“Did you write down what the Prof wrote on the blackboard last Monday?” Jin had given up on his burrito and was furiously wiping at his hands while a happy Hoseok gleefully dug into the scattered remains. Jimin next to him made grabby hands and the plate got pushed over so he’d reach it too. Jin pursed his lips.

“Yeah. You need them or what?” Yoongi dropped a chip in his mouth and chewed slowly.

Jin turned his head and a more up-beat expression settled on his features. “Pretty please!”

Yoongi groaned.

Around half an hour later the cafeteria filled up as more and more students took their break, and soon enough your group rose to make room for the people who actually needed the space to sit down.

“You going to practice today?” You asked Yoongi as your group made its way towards the exit. He nodded absentmindedly.

“Oh, can I come?” Hobi suddenly appeared by Yoongi’s other side, apparently having overheard the conversation.

Yoongi glared.

“And have you leave prints on all my shit? No thank you.”

“Excuse you these sneakers are brand new! Not a single speck of du- Hey!”

To your utter delight Yoongi had stepped on the brilliant white of Hobi’s new shoe and left a dusty brown mark.

The sputtering outcry got the attention of Namjoon and Jin who’d been walking ahead, and after placating words and a glare from Yoongi you all parted ways, Hobi notably not tagging along with you.

“That was mean.” You told him, still laughing over Hoseok’s exasperation.

Yoongi shrugged, hands in his pockets, but you saw the smile on his lips just before he angled his face in a way that didn’t allow you to observe his features any longer.

The days until the short christmas break were counting down.

One weekend you spent baking with Jimin and Rose, and were left with so many cookies you put a good amount in a box, wrapped it in newspaper and brought it with you to give to Yoongi as an early present.

You could pinpoint the exact moment he saw the gift sitting on his chair after he had come in, because he stopped dead in his tracks.

“What?” He asked, and you looked up from the transcribing exercise.

“What what?”

“That.” He pointed, as if a motion detection sensor would go off if he took only a step closer.

You clasped your hands under your chin and looked from the chair to Yoongi.

“Didn’t you see the elf that came in and dropped this off?”

His eyebrows drew together and he glared at you.

“I have a feeling I’m looking at this ‘elf’ right now.” He crossed his arms. You shrugged.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll find someone else to give it to.” That cute first-semester from Jimin’s Survey of Linguistics and Languages class maybe, Jungkook.

“No.” Yoongi grumbled, and you mentally scratched having to rehome the box of cookies. Although, come to think of it, there were probably enough cookies left at home to pack another box. Maybe you’d ask Jimin if he could ask Jungkook if he’d like some.

He sat after picking the present up, hesitantly, and weighted it in his hands.

“What’s in it?” He turned to you.

You lifted an eyebrow. “Wait until the evening of the 24th and find out. Or abandon all social norms and just tear into it now, I wouldn’t judge.”

“Like fuck you would.” He huffed and then looked from the patched up paper to you. It seemed like he wanted to say something, and then decided against it, only placing the gift on top of the piano, in a spot where it wouldn’t be in the way.

You got up earlier than usual, wanting to get a bit of shopping done before leaving for your parent’s home for the holidays.

Yoongi’s head jerked up, and the pencil he’d twirled in his fingers clattered to the ground.

“Is it five already?” He asked, hands reaching for his phone.

“Nah,” You slung your scarf around your neck. “I’ll run some errands.”

“Oh okay.”

To your surprise, Yoongi started grabbing his things as well.

You paused.

“Yoongi, what…?”

His gift under his arm, the other froze.

“Huh? Didn’t you ask if I could drive you today?”

You blinked.

Dim, very dim was the memory, of having asked him, a week ago. You hadn’t decided to do the shopping today, back then.

“You- You don’t have to. Sorry, I forgot, my bad-” You bit in your lip. “You, uh, you stay, and… Compose a while longer. I’ll be fine.”

In the silence between you, you could hear the wind whistling around the corners of the building.

It was dark outside already.

Yoongi was still looking at you, and though you’d come to understand his expressions a bit, this one was undecipherable.

“So you… Don’t want me to drive you?”

He looked weird, the newspaper wrapped box under his arm, his jacket slung over the other. Ready to go, at your convenience.

It twisted your heart a little.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t remember you saying yes, and my shopping-”

“I could still drive you. It’s faster than the train?” His eyebrows twitched upwards in the middle, just a tiny bit.

“-Okay.” You agreed, and his posture relaxed at last.

His car smelled new, even though everything in it was carrying marks of the years it had been used.

You stayed silent, unsure how to proceed, and as the lights of downtown illuminated the inside of his car, you turned your head to look at him.

“Would you like to come do the shopping with me?”

The car rolled to a stop at the next red light, and in the low light, Yoongi’s eyes glinted as he looked over.

“If you want me to?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.”

"I bought an iPad."

"You what?" You looked up from your work, across the room and met his eyes over the piano. He was glaring.

"You heard me."

"I did. Why though?"

January was almost over by now, but it would take a while longer until the sun would win back her intensity, and not let the daylight fade this early in the afternoon. Though, clouds littered the sky today, which was probably the main cause why the lights overhead reflected in the glass already at this hour.

Yoongi looked down on the keys, his hands rubbing over his thighs.

"You won't stop nagging me about losing the sheets or forgetting the tunes, so I thought… I could record some of the songs. Scan the sheets. That kinda stuff."

You smiled, unashamed and wide, and Yoongi's glare intensified.

"You're gonna come have a look or what."

He sounded a little pressed and without any more words you left your desk and crossed the room.

He shuffled aside so you could fit yourself next to him.

The tablet wasn't the latest model - which would have really surprised you, otherwise - but there was something like a microphone plugged into the lightning port and clipped to the edge.

"Is that a mic?" You leaned forward, having had half the mind to sit on your hands to not accidentally touch anything and ignite Yoongi's wrath.

"Yes." He grumbled, still a bit more fidgety than usual. "Cost almost as much as the damn thing so I hope you're happy."

The grin stole into the wonder and awe that had captured your expression before.

"I am. Very. Recorded anything yet?"

You'd arrived a bit later today, courtesy to an extended lunch with Namjoon and Jin.

Yoongi's eyes glinted when he looked from the keys to you.

"And have you chewing my ear off for not letting you be there? Fuck no. Was gonna wait until you got here. -Shut! It."

You bit your lip to keep the cooing at bay, opting to gently nudge his shoulder with yours instead.

"I appreciate it. Wanna play now?"

The nervosity was back, the way he bounced his leg so uncharacteristically agitated  for him. He was more like a pond usually, calm and undisturbed.

"Keep quiet alright?"

You nodded.

He sighed and rubbed his hands one last time. Then he extended one, woke the screen and unlocked the tablet. The recording program was already open.

He clicked the red button and instantly a flat line appeared, only beginning to curve up and down as he shifted and began to play.

Keeping your breathing flat was probably unnecessary and yet you couldn't help it.

Yoongi's hands danced over the keys, pushing down and lifting in such rapid succession you could hardly keep up with. It was mesmerizing to observe, but not only that.

With his eyes closed and his head angled he gave himself to the music completely, feeling every note.

There was a small pulling in your chest, from the area around your heart, at his sight.

It must feel good to be able to zone out this much doing something you loved and were good at.

Only after he'd repeated the chorus did you notice what he was playing - the melody that had initially drawn you in and led you to the table outside.

Your heart in your chest grew with every beat, until it felt like it pressed against your ribcage from the inside.

Yoongi slowed down, the notes came a little wider apart, and then he let the last chord ring out. Fingertips still resting on the keys, you looked between them, waiting if he'd play another song.

When he slid them down on his pants it became clear he didn't intend to.

Silence enveloped you.

"That's my favourite song. That one. I only found you because of it."

Your eyes went back to his face and caught him already looking. His eyebrows drew together.

He tapped the little square and the program stopped recording.

"Now you ruined the first ever song I played for the record, idiot."

You scoffed.

"I only spoke up after it was all done, you can easily cut that out, genius."

He huffed and you rolled your eyes.

"Not everything has to be perfect first try. Thought someone like you would know that."

He just shook his head, still frowning.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'll keep quiet now." Thinking he was honestly upset, you apologized, hoping it'd sooth his temper.

But it didn't seem to be the right call as he buried his face in his hands, shoulders rolling forward.

"Just… Nevermind."

"Do you want me to get out of your hair?"

Your butt had already lifted from the chair when his reply came, mumbled through his hands.

"No."

You sat back down.

Dark eyes glinted at you through his fingers, then he combed through his hair and pushed it back from his face.

It was the first time you could really see his eyebrows well, and the expanse of his forehead.

You'd known he had one, of course, but seeing it was something else.

He woke the tablet again and started a new recording.

You smiled.

You didn’t get any work done that afternoon, but then again listening to a fraction of the repertoire that Yoongi had to offer was phenomenal compensation.

Still he looked a bit rueful, standing next to your desk while you packed your stuff, the iPad with its closed cover and Mic securely stored in the small bag over his shoulder.

“Sorry I… Kept you from your studying.”

You looked up while zipping your pencil case shut.

“It’s okay. Think I needed that, anyways. A break from all those words. It’s me who should thank you, really.”

He wrinkled his nose and kicked at a speck of dust, following you out the room once you were done.

“Still. Can I… Do you want a ride home? I know you missed the bus you usually take.”

“You’d do that?”

“It’s the least, really…”

A smile spread on your face. “Who am I to say no to such a gracious offer, why yes, thank you Yoongi.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” He grumbled, pushing ahead with a frown on his features.

"Play for me, Min, please." You sat next to him on the stool, hands underneath your thighs and gaze swimming from exhaustion.

Yoongi's shoulder softly bumped into yours as he repositioned himself.

"You okay."

"Yeah. Just. Please play."

"Alright." He looked at the keys, fingers caressing them but not pressing down hard enough to evoke the notes. "Anything in particular?"

"Can you play my favourite piece?"

His eyes stayed on yours and you grew almost uncomfortable by their scrutiny.

And then he blinked and turned back towards the keys, rolling his wrists once and setting his fingers down.

"As you wish."

As he played you watched his fingers move, trying to lean away whenever he came near you to avoid bumping into his arm. His skin looked healthier now, now that the temperatures were rising again and there were no angry, painful red cracks lining the back of his hands anymore.

It was like his body had its own gravitational field, drawing you in.

When he ended, your side was leaned against his, your heavy head teetering on the edge just before dropping to his shoulder.

The arm he wrapped around you would have come as a surprise, eliciting at least a twitch out of you, had you been a little more coherent.

As it was, your body sighed and curled into his, head tucked into his shoulder, while his hand pulled you closer by your side.

"Long day."

It wasn't a question, but you understood the offer he was making.

"Yeah." You sighed, the hoodie-clad shoulder pleasantly soft under your cheek. "Finals will kick my ass. Didn't want to do an all-nighter ever again but got peer-pressured into it anyways… Sucks."

Yoongi hummed, playing this and that note with the free hand.

"Didn't peg you for someone giving into that kind of thing."

You grumbled.

The impending doom of the next test hung low over your head, and still you couldn’t peel away from your spot next to Yoongi, wedged on the chair, with his arm around you. Didn’t want to. Felt like maybe if you’d made an attempt to get up, he might even have pulled you down again.

"Want me to drive you home?" He mumbled, an indefinite amount of time later.

"You're really nice today. Or is that just me being tired."

He chuckled, and you felt his cheek come to rest against your head.

"Don't tell anyone, okay."

"Okay."

You adjusted in your spot and snaked both of your arms around his torso.

He didn't flinch.

It was quiet for a moment.

"Hm?"

He hummed.

"What?" You lifted your head. He glanced at you from the corners of his eyes.

"Didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"If you want me to drive you home."

He jostled your shoulder.

You debated it for a moment.

"Alright. Yeah, okay.”

You put a hand to his shoulder that quickly morphed from a gentle pat into holding on for support as your quick standing up led to some instability in your legs.

He looked up at you.

"Okay then. Let's go." You repeated.

It was like the world was wrapped in cotton.

It was silent in the car. The radio didn't look broken, but Yoongi slapped your hand away as you wanted to poke it and see if you could turn it on.

"Nu-uh. No touchy." His eyes never strayed from the street.

"Next one left." You informed him, pouting.

"I know." He said.

Your hand was on the handle even before his shabby car rolled to a stop in front of your place.

It was unusually warm for the month, and you’d rolled the window on the passenger side down to breathe in the mellow spring breeze.

Now outside, you leaned your arms through it.

A grin spread on your face.

"Say, isn't it weird that you know where I live and I still haven't gotten your number?"

A rare, gummy smile appeared on his face, slowly.

"Please?" You jutted out your bottom lip.

"...Fine." He reached into the back, patting his jacket down.

He pulled his phone out of one of the pockets, handing it to you after unlocking it.

"'Musical Genius #1 Fan’?" He read out the contact name you’d given yourself. He glared at you.

You shrugged.

"If you don't like it, change it, genius."

He snorted and gripped the steering wheel tighter with his left hand.

The world was beginning to get very fuzzy beyond a two step radius around you, and you took that as a sign you should definitely head into your room now.

“Thank you for the ride.”

“Always.” He smiled again, his usual, small one.

You patted the hood of his car twice after leaning back.

Texting Yoongi was almost alarmingly normal.

Despite the fantastical circumstances of meeting him, you found he was very much engaged in normal life on campus, too. Occasionally.

He wasn’t much for the polite small talk to start a day, rather than just sending a text saying ‘There’s a lizard by the parking lot and ppl r clogging the way, will be late’ first thing.

You hadn’t believed him when he’d said he wasn’t much into memes, but send him a couple vine compilations anyways.

By now he was fully fluent in both them and most current memes floating around, further adding to you not really believing he hadn’t had a speck of an idea before.

The definite end of the semester came into view, but it meant every final was crammed into the space between then and now, which resulted in more studying and less listening to Yoongi playing. 

You were brushing teeth one evening when your phone’s screen lit up with an incoming video call from him.

Placing it on a slightly elevated spot inside the small cabinet above the sink, you accepted it.

“...Oh wow look at that, who is that raccoon?”

Your reply telling him to fuck off came warbled by the white foam spilling over your chin. He smiled, wide and easy.

“Wanted to ask what you were up to this evening but I guess I don’t have to anymore, huh.”

You cleared your mouth and dabbed a towel around it afterwards.

“Not really. I’m super tired, so I think I’ll just go to bed, honestly. Did you want to do something? In that case I’m sorry, but no.”

He rolled around, and only then did you see he was in bed, with the covers drawn up already and all.

“Uhh, no… Just wanted to check in. But now that you mention it… How about some music to help you relax?”

You took him from his spot on the shelf and flicked the light off before moving into your bedroom.

“I think I have enough music here, thanks…” Distracted by the device, you almost forgot to take your refilled water bottle. When you looked at the screen next, you could see Yoongi with his arms on his keyboard, phone propped up in a way that allowed you to look down the length of the keys. He was pouting.

“Not even a personalized little concert?”

You sat back on your bed and smiled at the screen.

“Okay. Just this once. And only because it’s you.”

“Yes!” He punched the air and grinned down at the camera. Lying on your side with the screen being the only thing illuminating the room, you watched and listened to him play, allowing yourself to breathe slowly and let go of the troubles that were plaguing you during the day.

You were almost gone, eyelids heavy and grasp on your phone slipping, when Yoongi picked his own device up.

“Sleep well.” He mumbled.

You hummed in response, eyes shut.

It was the last day of school before the semester ended. Technically it had ended already; The clock on the wall read something around two in the evening, and in any other case you’d be furious as to why you were still stuck here. As it was, you were sat next to Yoongi once more, in front of the piano, one last time before the break.

The window was wide open, letting in the chirps of birds and rustling of leaves.

"I'm not so good. With words." He looked up after a moment, the tips of this pointer and middle finger gently running up and down a crack between the keys.

The world outside was sunny and looked much warmer than it was, but in here, out of direct sunshine, it was still cool. Yoongi’s body next to yours was the only source of immediate warmth in the almost clammy air.

"I can speak better through the music. I think that's why… I think that's why you say my songs are expressive." His voice died down, but his eyes, glued to yours, won in intensity.

Even this close up you couldn’t tell where his iris ended and his pupil began. "Sometimes I wish I could be better with words. At least a little bit."

He looked down, where your hand lay on your thigh, with the fingers curled in and under the palm, to prevent from reaching out and touching the piano while he was playing it. Touching the piano or him.

With bated breath you watched him move, slip his hand from the keys, to then, lightly, as if you'd break at the slightest of pressure, cover yours.

Not taking your eyes off the palms, you turned your own around until you could slip your fingers between his.

You heard him swallow thickly when you squeezed your conjoined hands. Were acutely aware of how his thigh felt pressed against yours, him next to you.

Your eyes met again, but not for long. He looked away again, oddly reminding you of the first times you’d seen each other; him unable to look at your for longer than a second.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip before his teeth got a hold of it and he stared down on the piano. When you readjusted in your spot his fingers flexed and squeezed your palm, as if to prevent you from letting go. You saw his jaw ticking as he continued to avoid your eyes, the way his eyebrows furrowed, a tell-tale sign for the inner turmoil.

“Sometimes you don’t have to say much, you know. Sometimes… Sometimes I think I understand you just like that.”

“Oh yeah?” It would’ve sounded condescending if you hadn’t been able to filter out the self-deprecating downtilt of his words by now.

He glanced up at you before shuffling in his spot, twisting as best as he managed to be able to look at you without getting up. His knee dug into the dent in your leg just above your own, but you ignored the slight discomfort.

He lifted your joined hands briefly, letting them fall on his own thigh before his whole body calmed down and his eyes finally steadied on yours.

“Tell me, then. What am I trying to say?”

You let your eyes rise from his, into the mussed hair, to the one strand that was still sticking up from where he’d exasperated ran his hand against the growth earlier.

His eyebrows were still furrowed minimally, and only under your watchful gaze did he stop chewing on the inside of his cheek.

For several minutes you looked him over, observed the uneven rise and fall of his chest, in that old black shirt - it span over his chest now, its fit almost snug when it had been loose before. He’d really filled it out.

Eventually you sandwiched his hand between the both of yours, looking down on his fingers between yours.

“I have no idea.”

It was the truth. No matter how hard you looked, no matter how many clues you believed to see, it was impossible to tell just where his mind had taken him this time.

He swallowed and looked down, nodding once.

“Right. A-”

“If-” You interrupted him, looking up through your lashes. His shoulders were still rising along with his breathing, but now you had his undivided attention. “-you’re going to say something mean now, against you or me, don’t. Please.”

He bit on his lip and ducked his head to the side, obviously displeased.

“See?” He leaned back, balling his free hand into a fist. “You can do it after all! Somehow you got into my head. Don’t do that.”

“So?” You ignored the interruption, tone having shifted in the slightest. “Tell me. What...?

Two heavy breaths in which he kept squinting at you, attempted to speak up and then averted his gaze again.

When his eyes came back down from the ceiling his hold on your hand tightened.

“A hug.”

You were sure, if you hadn’t been holding his hand, he would’ve backed off as soon as the words had left his lips. But he couldn’t and so he stayed in the same spot, leaned back as far as he could, blinking and looking at you like you would start smacking him any moment.

“Please.” He added, and it had been almost too quiet to hear.

With only a nod as an answer, he relaxed a little, but the tension wouldn’t leave his shoulders.

“Here?” You asked, and he nodded, eyes flitting around. His left leg started jiggling, but before the nervosity could take more hold on him you disentangled your hands and opened your arms. He hesitated a moment longer but you didn’t rush him, waited, let him take his time. Let him come to you.

And he did.

With slow, careful hands that touched the lower part of your ribs cautiously before they slid around to your back, one upwards between your shoulder blades, the other down to the small of your back.

It was like someone that had been starved of water being allowed near a clean river - someone that had been deprived for so long that the madness of thirst had subsided into tired resignation already. When faced with the thing he’d been hungering for most, he didn’t run in blindly and submerged himself at once.

It was more like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to, was able to touch you sat next to him, that you let him close his arms around you.

His chin bumped into your collarbone as you lifted your own arms a little to lay them over his shoulders and hug him back, and he whispered a small “Sorry” before his head nestled into place next to yours.

He had to bend down and you stretched up a bit, and for the first moment you felt how uncomfortable he seemed with everything.

With a single, long sigh, he relaxed.

Gave into the hug, completely, and without holding back anymore.

Every breath he took you felt, were made aware how he drew his breath in several steps, as if he didn’t possess the strength to do it at once.

There was no more room between you but you felt his hold tighten, drawing you in closer.

This wasn’t a quick hello-or-goodbye hug, and it wasn’t a bear-hug, either. It was something entirely new and yet you felt incredibly safe.

There was no clock anywhere in sight and you closed your eyes.

Minutes passed. Eventually the desperateness fled his system, and then you were just holding the other.

At half past four, the bell rang again.

The sound drifted over the campus and reached you just as you entered the deserted lot, where only Yoongi’s shabby car still stood, under the trees, half hidden by bushes.

His thumb slid over the back of your hand as he lightly tugged on your connection.

“Can I come visit your place?” You asked, once you’d sat down. He’d been to your tiny flat a few times now, but had never asked if you would like to see his.

“Are you sure?” He turned the key and glanced at you before backing out of the spot.

“Of course! I want to see the musical genius’ living space. Pretty please.”

“Don’t remind me of that dumb nickname…” He groaned, and you laughed, turning the radio up and the window down.

Warm air came rushing in, and together with the upbeat song currently playing, it felt a lot like a scene from a movie.

For the first time in weeks you felt fully free. Able to smile at the wind touching your face, knowing Yoongi was there with you.

You sat on his couch together, scrolling your phones aimlessly after thoroughly inspecting his space.

The pizza he ordered in the evening was fluffy and sated your hunger, and afterwards you were too tired to move much.

“I think… I’ll just stay here.” You gesticulated around the room, stretching and placing your legs across his lap.

He wiped his hands clean of the last grease and tugged on your shins.

“Here? You sure? I can always-”

He pressed a hand against his mouth and burped. Afterwards he groaned and fell back against the backrest.

“No, you’ll have to stay. There’s no way I’m leaving this flat again today.”

You grinned and made grabby hands for the pack of cherry gummies.

Your head was buzzing with how late it was, and how tired you’d become.

With teeth brushed, the sweet taste of cherries was long gone, but in the dark of the room, it wasn’t unwelcome.

Yoongi was lying just a little away from you, head half buried in one of his many pillows.

“Is this weird?” He asked. You heard his palm slipping over the mattress, before his fingertips touched your arm and he momentarily pulled back.

Until you put your hand out, and he curled his pinky around yours.

“Hm?”

You asked.

“I mean this… We… We’re not…” He trailed off, his other hand covering yours as he rolled over. In the darkness you could only make out his eyes by the reflection of what little light there still was, in them. “Other people our age have been partying since noon, and we…”

“Is that bad?” You asked, turning on your side to fully face him.

“No, don’t think so.”

“Do you want it, any other way?”

He shook his head.

“I just wonder… Jin asked me if we were dating the other day. I didn’t know what to say. It doesn’t feel like we are, but I also… don’t feel like we’re not doing that. It. Something. I mean we’re not doing that, either, which I never thought about, and-”

He huffed. “It feels weird, to lie here, with you, and not do anything. But I’m glad. About it. In a way.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Then that’s enough for us. Isn’t it?”

He hummed, and slowly leaned his forehead against your joined hands.

Your phone binged with an incoming message from Yoongi.

It was two weeks into the break, and after staying over at his place, you hadn’t heard or seen too much of him.

His message read 'I uploaded it.', and a link to Spotify.

You clicked on it.

A playlist opened, and you bit on your lip at the name - He'd titled it 'Your Playlist'.

While you cleaned out your notes and organized your room, you listened.

It was a mix of his self-composed piano pieces, acoustic, or electric, with mixed other instruments and occasionally his voice.

The melodies came easy and wound their way in your ears, and it brought a smile to your face at the warmth you felt at their sound.

The last one was titled “My Favourite”.

You watched as the song’s covers changed, and sat back on your rug.

What unfolded in front of your ears was different than the rest - it was a blend of sounds, playing to support your favourite song of his, but a remix version. The beat slowly wound up higher, coming faster, until it dropped - to your voice, filtered and a little tuned, to fit the short space.

‘My favourite’, you heard yourself say, and then the whisper of Yoongi’s voice answered, ‘Just for you’, and you bit down on your lip.

He sung and rapped more, and you needed at least five listens before you’d caught it all.

‘Can I come over?’ You texted him, burning with energy and the deeply rooted wish to see him.

‘ofc’ came his answer, and you were out of the door.

Not much later, halfway across town, you hugged your arms around him as tight as you could, smiling so wide it had your cheeks hurting, and yet not able to keep the tears escaping your eyes.

“I love you, too.” You mumbled into his shoulder, feeling him tense a little.

“I’m so glad you understood.” He whispered, and leaned his head against yours. “I’m so glad you understand. Me. I’m so glad you. Found me.”

notes: for alex, who i send an ask wondering if she might know how to title a story i was writing and if she'd ever heard of this weirdly specific song i could not name? and then told me i should check out this song (the title of this fic) - which ended up being the very one i'd been searching for for four days. thank you.

[silentsockfeet]

tlou2 photomode tips

disclaimer: these are just my go-to tricks that i like to use, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll work for everyone! each person has their own taste and style that they have to develop and these are just what i’ve found work best for me

just going through section by section which settings I use. but i just want to note that a lot of the things i keep in mind when taking photos are what i’ve learned through real life photography and through my film major, where i was taught things like composition, lighting, etc. i have general tips i can give about that as well but for now i just thought i’d keep it to the actual settings i use, partly bc this post is already long as fuck

camera

for portraits, set camera roll to 90 (or -90, it’s the exact same just in different directions)

for all my portraits i’ll usually have field of view set all the way to zero and camera zoomed in as far as it’ll go, tho obviously this changes depending on what you want

depth of field

depth of field is one of the most important tools for drawing the eye and keeping your photos less muddled. you can keep your subject in focus while blurring everything else, so your viewer knows exactly what they’re supposed to be looking at

for nearly all my photos i keep DOF intensity at about 70

DOF is also good for creating a mood. for example, if i want really soft, cosy type photos i’ll have really intense DOF (about 80). if i want crisp action photos i’ll have less intense DOF (50-60)

lately i've been doing some experimenting and setting DOF at 100 to try and get some cool effects but again, this all comes down to personal taste. do your own experimenting and find what you like!

display

brightness changes from photo to photo. i started a system where i’ll find a 10-point range where the brightness looks good (ie. 35-45) and then take a photo at every 5 points (so three photos at 35, 40, 45)

again, these numbers aren’t set, i find whatever range looks best for the photo and then choose the best looking one after uploading to my computer

sharpness i usually don’t tamper with

i only use saturation alongside a 50% noir filter, which i’ve explained more below

screen effects

chromatic aberration is usually always the original settings. every now and then i'll amp it up if i think it looks cool but i've very rarely done this. again, all comes down to personal taste

film grain is pretty much always set to zero unless i want to use it for stylistic effect, which is rare

filters

what i do fairly often to get the dark backgrounds i like is to set filter to noir but change intensity to 50. then i’ll go to the display tab and change saturation to 30, sometimes 35 (the numbers aren’t always these tho, you have to eyeball it to find where the skin tones look normal)

this keeps the edges dark but still makes characters look as colorful as normal

noir is probably the filter i use most often, but every now and then i’ll use vintage, blorange, or none. 

this is really where you can take my advice with a grain of salt because filters are very much a personal taste option, so find what you like!

vignette

for most of my photos, i have vignette ON but size and intensity are both set to 0. i find it helps even out the photo, so that background isn’t too bright while characters are too dark

if i want a particularly dark background, i’ll sometimes set both to 50. very rarely, if i want a darker background but all 0 is too light and all 50 is too dark, i’ll set size to 75 and intensity to 25.

but again, for nearly all of my photos they’re both set to 0

misc.

to summarize, my most common settings: camera roll 90, DOF intensity 70, multiple shots at different brightness settings, film grain 0, noir 50% with saturation bumped slightly, vignette ON but both settings at 0

your flashlight is your best source of lighting! it’s the only source you can actually control, so it’s especially helpful when photographing NPCs. shine your flashlight in their face and harass them!! i use the very edge of the light bc the center is often too bright and leaves a weird ring of light on their face

sometimes using the NPC’s flashlight as a source of light for your main character is also helpful, but it’s definitely harder, since obviously you can’t control them. just something to keep in mind

besides the flashlight, other in game objects can help to make cool effects as well. in this set i posted recently i used smoke bombs to make a more solid backdrop. they also help to emphasize light rays so i want to experiment with it more lol 

most important thing to note is that i take a SHIT TON of photos. i’m guessing for every one i post there’s ten i don’t. the reason for this is, the graphics on your tv are gonna be set to different formats than your computer or phone, so your photos won’t look the same on each device. i always choose photos based on how good they look on my phone, because i figure that’s what most people will see them on. so if you’re like me and you don’t have / can’t afford good photo editing software, the best way to account for what looks best is to take a bunch of the same photo but on different settings and then compare on a separate device

i pretty much don’t make any edits outside of photomode save for cropping photos, but even then i've been trying to do that less. very rarely i'll make some brightness adjustments if they turn out too dark on my computer, but i try to avoid that as much as possible

i seriously can’t stress this enough, but just have patience and keep trying! the worst thing i always do is get all in my head about which posts were successful and whether or not people like my photos, but honestly? just ignore it and photograph what YOU like. art is an inherently selfish hobby. don’t let anything discourage you, just post what you like and keep trying to improve!

i tried to keep this limited to my general settings, but again, it changes with every shot. if y’all want to ask more specific questions about specific shots or whatever please feel free! or if you just want to ask general questions that's cool too! i'm always happy to help :)

[ddaehyeon]

– ♡; FIRST FALL ; KANG MINHEE

pairing: kang minhee + reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.5k

summary: the question kept running in your head and maybe, you didn't want an answer. >> star tears au

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this one aaaaa i have a part two idea. if you want a continuation of this one-shot let me know! (´｡･v･｡｀)

do you like minhee?

like a broken record the question kept on spiraling in your head. after it was asked by your best friend, the words became attached to your mind. at some point, it would even make you space out.

a sigh left your lips as you leaned to the railings. located on the fourth floor of the apartment building, your new unit gave a good view of the busy city. during the day, it would give a fair scenery of the people pacing around, most were university students who were to attend their classes. during the night, office workers who had been trampled by exhaustion would be trudging on the sidewalk, wanting nothing but be comforted by their beds or if they have enough energy, drinking would be their go-to.

you retrieved your phone from your pocket, swiping it unlock as soon. minhee should be here by now. in his last text, he said he'd be there in ten minutes.

a few days ago, minhee agreed to go with you to buy some indoor plants. you just moved into a new unit and as per your mother's wish of keeping you former plants, you ended up budgeting this week's allowance to buy yourself another batch of flora companions. there was something in having plants decorating your room. seeing the greens gave a good amount of serenity. something that you needed as a break from all the piling homework assignments your major was throwing you.

"hey, y/n. did i make you wait?" minhee's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, your head turning to him.

straightening your composure, you shook your head. it was a lie. you've been waiting for him... rather impatiently, but you didn't want him to know. at least he was already there. a faint smile came to your brim. "let's go?"

the walk was a silent one. judging from the dark circles that were painted under his eyes, he probably didn't get much sleep last night. his major was as taxing as yours, having to deal with numerous code under the dim lights of his computer screen. there were a lot of things that he had to remember and the midterms examination was just around the corner. minhee was dealing with codes as you were dealing with numeric equations. he could've just told you that he was to rest today, but then again, you can't blame him for wanting a break off the bustling student life. if given the opportunity to, getting outside the dormitory was far better than lying on the bed. a single turn to the side and you'd be seeing your study table where all the school-related works were waiting.

this wasn't so different from your first encounter with minhee. a quiet walk as he carried the rubber plant you purchased. seeing you struggle on the sidewalk, urged him to lend you a hand. minimal words were exchanged. few questions uttered to learn something about the stranger who was walking beside you. he was attending the same university, the only distinction was he was under the department of information technology, while you were in the engineering department.

his own dormitory was farther than yours and sometimes when you were to attend your morning classes, he'd end up bumping to you. the previously solitary walk altered by his presence as he treaded with you. without noticing, it became a routine for the two of you whenever your schedules match.

once again, the question came knocking in your mind, anticipating an answer. however, you denied it, pushing it to the back of your head.

with the bells chiming, the florist welcomed you with a warm greeting. the smile coming from the old lady was vibrant as usual. something that could easily pull the same expression from you.

your feet immediately brought you to the location of the indoor plants.

minhee followed you, eyeing each plant curiously. he lifted a kalanchoe. "this looks pretty. the small blooms would suit your window sill."

humming, you took a mental note of picking that one up. you reached for a peace lily, a beam gracing your lips as you do so.

"you gifted me that plant last year." a soft chuckle was heard from the male as he moved closer to you. standing behind you, his hand was extended to hold the same pot. his fingers brushed by the back of your hand, bringing a pale hue of red to your cheeks.

there was an awareness that coursed throughout your body, resulting in you being conscious of your senses. your ears enclosed by the rapid beating of your heart. cheeks growing hot each passing second. butterflies were in chaos as they flutter in your stomach. his presence alone was taking your breath away.

no, you told yourself. refusing to submit to the query that had been plaguing your mind ever since it was spoken.

"you still remember it, huh?" gaze fixated to the plant both of you were holding, you asked. it was an attempt to distract yourself, to put your mind to another topic.

but his answer immediately pulled you back to your best friend's question. "of course, i still have it by my study table. it's such a nice plant."

yesterday, your best friend joined you in the aimless staring by the balcony. legs propped together as you leaned to the wall. the wooden bench holding the two of you as you silently stared at the night sky. the stars were glimmering above, making you wonder how it was possible to see its light when it was a million miles away from you. the celestial canvas gave way for comfort to wrap around your figure. it was one of the nights where the sky was clear, offering a wonderful view of the black ocean with smothered sparkles.

"hopefully none of us will have those stars slipping out of our eyes," your best friend said.

for a moment, you tore your gaze away from the sky to look at her. "what do you mean?"

"star tears disease," she replied, pausing for a moment. "the result of unrequited affection."

it was a known illness in your place. people day by day were losing their gift to see colors, the saturation decreasing each passing day of their unreciprocated feelings. at extreme, some even see the world pitch black-- all colors snatched from them.

cruel. how come the universe would take away your ability to see the beauty of the world and still leave you with a broken heart?

the serenity that surrounded you shattered by a question that came out of her lips. "do you like minhee?"

four words. four words that were punctuated by a question mark came penetrating past your ears down to your stomach, making it flip in a terrible manner. you never asked yourself such. all you knew was you enjoyed the male's company. you froze in your place, unable to voice out a reply. you were unsure of what to answer.

or perhaps you knew the answer, but you were reluctant to succumb to it.

you declined to fall under its spell that would bring nothing but worry to your veins. as if the question sitting by your brain wasn't enough to intensify such feeling.

"thank you for today, minhee," you said after he placed the last pot on your table. different kinds of flora would be your company tonight.

the male let out of a chuckle. "no problem. it was fun." a beam became visible on his countenance as his gaze landed on your figure.

"you should go and rest now. seems like you didn't get much last night as well." among the group of plants, you lifted a pot of echeveria. you walked toward the male, handing it to him.

"what is this for?" minhee tilted his head to the side, a brow raised. he accepted the plant without much thought anyway.

you hunched your shoulder up. "nothing. a thank you gift, i guess?"

"oh-" nodding his head, the smile he had on his lips became brighter. too much for your liking. if he keeps on having such a vibrant smile, you might end up giving him all the plants you bought. "i'll take care of it then."

few more exchanges and minhee finally bid goodbye, wishing you a pleasant evening. there was a smile that spread on your lips, the answer you've been searching for coming to you in a single hit. its wave strong enough to make your knees grow weak. minhee left the room, the door closed cautiously. it also served as an answer to your unspoken confession.

along with the jingling sound that came to your ears as a soft music, a star cascaded down your cheek.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ masterlist ☆ request ☆ jungmo star tears ☆

[afaithy]

Number 3 with a Taichi/Koushiro friendship pairing? 💚

Ok, this story turned out a little silly. So quick details. As usual, the story takes place inside my Digi-verse :3. Taichi is a littly goofier than usual due to stress and probably the medication. So forgive him lol (?)

Koushiro has a lot of patience, to be fair. 

Hope you like it!

SEND MORE ASKS HERE _____________________________________________________________

I may be stupid, but I’m not an idiot

“Honestly, if you were any slower, you’d be going backward.”

― J.K. Rowling

Taichi had been having a bad day. It had all started when he realized that he had accidentally marked the deadline for his anthropology work on the wrong date, which meant that he had less than 6 hours to finish and send the document to his tutor. To make matters worse, his computer was under maintenance, and he had a bad cold.

It was curious, and extremely tragic, how something as simple as writing a wrong date could cause such apocalyptic results, but there was not much that Taichi could do about it. Hikari, seeing how miserable her brother was, agreed to lend him her laptop so that he could finish his work calmly. The girl wasn't going to need it anyway, since she had plans with Takeru that day, and she wouldn’t be back until late afternoon that day. 

This was how Taichi, made a cocoon of blankets, with a cold compress on his forehead, and a dripping nose, had ended up sitting in the living room armchair, desperately typing about the development of civilization and the evolution of social consciousness based on use of the digital humanities. Agumon watched him curiously from a corner of the room, but Taichi was on Takeru mode, and did not notice the digimon concerned look.

“There!” Taichi roared triumphantly “Now all I need is to sen….what? Oh nono….nonono….don’t do this to me now!”

“What’s wrong Taichi?”

“From all days for the internet to fail….why now?”

Taichi took the laptop and started maneuvering around the room trying to get a wifi signal. The boy was so desperate that he began to try the most ridiculous positions possible; from the table in the living room to the inside of the shower, but  no matter how much he stood on his tip toes or how much he bent down, the connection was too unstable to send the mail.

“I told Hikari we needed a new router!” Taichi growled “Come on damn it! I have 10 minutes to send this or I lose the credits!” 

Taichi continued chasing after the wifi signal until he finally got a full signal and the mail went out. The boy let out a triumphant cry.

“Taichi! Be careful!” Agumon screeched. 

In the middle of his search for a wifi signal, Taichi had barely been conscient of where he’d walked into. He was standing dangerously close to the balcony railing, with one feet on a stool and barely keeping the balance with the laptop in his hand. The sudden realization of this unnatural position made Taichi lose his balance a fall off. Luckily for him, agumon managed to stop his fall, but the laptop was not that lucky. It landed on the floor with a loud thud. 

There was small pause, while both Taichi and Agumon stared at the fallen device with horror.

“Oh no,no….” Taichi said, horrified “Hikari is gonna kill me.”

Taichi picked the laptop and began to check it. It wasn’t broken, at least not as far he could see. The screen wasn’t even scratched , but the hit had turned it off, so he tried turning it back on. 

Taichi held his air as the screen lit up, but then, it went into a blue screen and turned off again. He tried once more, and it happened again.  Hikari was SO going to kill him.

His day couldn't get worse. 

“Ok...keep calm…” he told himself “It’s not a big deal, we need help. It might be fixable. Koushiro! Oh yeah...I need Koushiro...now!”

Taichi took the laptop and without even bothering to change his clothes, he sprinted out of the apartment. He was lucky that Koushiro lived one floor above. Mrs. Izumi was very surprised to see him knocking desperately on their door and after the boy had given her a pretty desperate greeting, she had told him that Koushiro was in his room. Taichi thanked the confused woman and ran into the room, causing Koushiro to fall from his chair in surprise.

“Taichi-san! What  are you doing here?” Koushiro cried.

“Koushiro...this is an emergency….you might be my only hope right now; no,  scratch that, you might be my only chance of survival! Is that Mimi?”

Koushiro's cheeks went bright red and he quickly rushed to turn off his screen.  Taichi watched the black screen stunned and then he shook his head.

“ Forget it. This is more important.” Taichi saId “ I screwed up.”

“ I should be surprised, but strangely, I am not.” Koushiro sighed “ what did you tell Sora.san  this time?”

“What? No, I  didn’t tell her anything.” “Ok, then what did you do to Sora-san?”

“Why are you assuming I did something to her?” “Because most of the time you get this panicky is because you messed up with her.”

“ Not true...well, at least not this time! No, this is worse…” Taichi said, putting down Hikari’s laptop on the table “I broke Hikari’s laptop.”

“Again?”

“What do you mean “again”? I’ve never broken her laptop!”

“Well there was that time when we were on middle school….”

“Ah! That doesn’t count...How was I supposed to know that book would fall over there?” Taichi said, shaking his head “No, for real...I don’t know what’s wrong with it and she’s gonna kill me if she finds out. Hell, I think not even Takeru might be able to save me this time…”

“Fine, I’ll take a look. “ Koushiro sighed “What exactly happened?”

Koushiro tried turning on the laptop, but just like Taichi, the device turned on, showed a blue screen and then went off again.  Sighing, Koushiro opened his cabinet and took out a small tool kit and began working on the laptop. “It’s a long story…” Taichi said, walking around the the room like a restless lion “ The summary is, I wrote  my reports deadline wrongly, so it turns out I had to hand it in today by noon, and my computer is on the store for maintenance, so I had no computer and had to use Hikari’s to finish, but hell when I had like 15 min for the deadline, I couldn’t get wifi signal to send it, so I had to look around the apartment to see where I had enough signal to send it and happens that the balcony gets full service, anyway...I tripped and the laptop fell.”

“From the balcony?”

“Hell, no! If so there would be no laptop. I fell to the ground.” “RIght….” “It’s all the router’s fault. The signal is so bad.”

“Did you even consider using your phone’s hotspot? Or perhaps that Lan collection instead of walking around the apartment?”

“The what?”

“Never mind…” Koushiro sighed “I think I might have an idea of what’s wrong, but it is going to take me awhile. What time does Hikari come home?”

“In about two hours…” Taichi said, looking at the clock “but no problem. I have a plan.”

“YOu do?”

“Yeah!” Taichi said, taking out his phone “I’m texting Takeru. I’ll lift his curfew for this time, so he can distract Hikari and get her home later....”

“You do know, Takeru is a poor liar and Hikari is actually pretty sharp. She will suspect something is up…”

“She’s with Takeru. He can kiss her or something and she’ll forget about it.”

“I thought you weren’t pleased with your sister getting kissed by any boys, Takeru included.”

“Priorities Koushiro. I hate the idea, I truly do...but sacrifices are required for my survival.” “You’re overreacting…” Koushiro laughed “I doubt Hikari would kill you.”

“You had no idea how she gets when she’s really angry.” Taichi said, rolling his eyes “So...why exactly were you seeing Mimi’s photos when I came in.”

Koushiro dropped the screwdriver and then let out a painful groan when he accidentally got a little electrocuted with the laptop’s static. 

“I wasn’t!” he replied, blushing “Not ...strictly willingly. Mimi-san borrowed my tablet and when I got it back, I was notified that the memory was full. So I was going through the files to see what she had done to saturate my 1TB memory card.”

“Ahhhh...and what was it?” “Mimi-san seems to enjoy selfies.”

“She took selfies with your tablet?” Taichi smirked “That’s a message, you know?”

“A message?”

“Yup” Taichi nodded “She’s sending you an invitation. Believe, I know about this things.”

“Right, and that would explain your current status with Sora-san…”

“Hey, things with Sora are complicated ok.”

“How complicated could it be. Everyone knows you two are into each other.”

“Pff, of course not.”

“Right, that is why you made all that fuss when she was dating that...what was his name again? Yotaro?”

“Ryutaro...and for the record, the guy was a douche. He wasn't good enough for her.”

“Yeah, well, shouldn’t you do something about it?”

“I did, didn’t I? Sora wasn’t too happy about it though.”

“I didn’t mean that…” Koushiro rolled his eyes and said, “ I meant, ask her out.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Everyone knows she went out with that guy to make you jealous.”

“No way. Sora would kick my butt if I even brought it up.”

“How do you know? My sources say that you might have a good chance.”

“Your sources, huh?” Taichi smirked “Is Mimi telling you all the gossip now?”

“That’s...out of the subject.”

“Riiight. Returning the question, then. When are you  going to do something about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You two have been sending smoke signs to each other since highschool. Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“Smoke signs?”

“Yeah, you are even more obvious than Takeru and Hikari, and those two beat you at it.”

“That’s different. Mimi-san and I are just friends.”

“Aha...that’s what Takeru said, you know?”

Koushiro gave Taichi an irritated glare, but the older kid smirked. 

“Taichi-san...if you keep distracting me, I won’t be able to fix this.”

“Ok, ok...sorry.” Taichi answered, raising his hand in a peaceful gesture “so...what’s wrong with it?”

“Good news, it isn’t unfixable. “Koushiro replied “the fal messed up with some of the RAM memory components, so I’ll  just have to check it and put it back together.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“I’m not sure if I might have the spare pieces here.”

“Well, I guess it could be worse.”

“Yeah, well….” Koushiro sighed “next time, do me a favor, Taichi.”

“What?”

“Don’t drop the computer.”

“Of course I won’t. I might be stupid, but not an idiot….”

“Sometimes you make me wonder….”

“It was an accident!”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was.” Koushiro laughed “You’re lucky I can fix it.” “Yeah, I’m lucky to have you as a friend. I am so grateful that I could kiss you.”

“I’ll rather not.”

“Right...How about I ask Mimi to do it instead?”

“Taichi-san…”

Taichi smirked. He was lucky to have friends like Koushiro, there was no doubt about that. 

============================================================

I don’t ship them (Unless I you count BROTP’s as shipping) but I am pretty sure this is how Taichi was feeling at the time Lol

[friendly-familiars]

Editing Photos: Mobile Edition

Often times I'll snap decent photos on my phone and want to get them up to the blog as quick as possible, so I use a mobile app called Pixlr. Its basic functions are free - you can purchase additional stuff if you'd like but I've never needed to. It's on Android and Apple. Most importantly it gets the job done.

Today I'm going to use this picture I took of my roommate's cat. Here's the before shot.

Remember the goal here is to make it seem unedited and adjust it in a way that we're portraying what our eyes see (since for now our phone cameras aren't as good as our eyes)

First thing's first: MAKE SURE YOUR SCREEN BRIGHTNESS IS ALL THE WAY UP. Countless times I've started editing a picture JUST to remember halfway through. Editing with your brightness all the way up will keep you from accidentally over-editing.

Here's what the app interface looks like:

Pretty simple stuff. For the most part we're just going to use adjustments in the little briefcase icon at the bottom left.

I mostly use Adjustments and Sharpen. And crop but I forgot to circle it. AUTOFIX IS TRASH and only works well maybe 1 out of 10 times.

Here's the main tools inside Adjustments that I use:

Highlights and Shadows more or less adjusts the lighting issue without making things seem washed out.

In this case I went -30 on both Highlights and Shadows to kind of darken up the washed out photo. For some photos you may need to go +30. Anywhere from ±30-40 is usually what does the trick.

Saturation can easily be too much too fast. I never really go above +15. My safe spot is +10. If you want to make a photo black and white you bring it all the way down.

Contrast, like saturation, can be too much too fast. I hardly ever go above +10 on contrast. We want to bring out those black tones without deepfrying the picture.

The upper right icon I circled shows you a "before" and "after" comparison when you hold it down. VERY useful!

Sharpen makes the photo a little more clear. I normally just fiddle with this until it "feels right". Sometimes your picture doesn't need to be sharpened and that's ok!

Crop is kind of self explanatory, but ideally you want the focus of your picture to be in the middle of the image. Cropping out any distractions helps guide the viewer's eye to the important part of the picture.

And just to compare this is what we started out with

The final product isn't a masterpiece but it's more pleasing and clearer to the eye than the original.

Stay tuned for my basics on photo editing on the computer with GIMP (hint hint - I do some of the same steps on Gimp). It's really all about familiarizing yourself with what each tool does and playing around with it.

Happy editing!

- mod Jean

[petitpsds]

psd tutorial!!

okay guys so finally it’s here- today i’ll be showing you how to make any kind of soft psd! i will include an in depth tutorial with tips.

Part one: creating the psd.

step 1: find the image you’ll be using. now for me, i create psds based on the tone of the image. because i find that if you make a (in example) purple toned psd and try to add it to a warm toned almost orange-ish photo, it won’t look the best.  step 2 (optional): find an inspiration! lately i’ve been really really inspired by velvestuff unnie!!! i really enjoy how visually pleasing and aesthetic her soft icons are. they’re literally perfection and i dont think it’s possible for anyone to try and replicate her edits. but it’s ok to be inspired! set goals. otherwise, you won’t really have a base to your edits.  to create a purple/pink/brown psd in photoshop, it can be essential and effective yet optional to use the follower:

brightness & contrast ( main ): these two are mainly important for either brightening or darkening your psd. it’ll serve as a key factor.

vibrance: sometimes you’ll find your psd to be TOO vibrant and orangey. you’ll use this to tone down the image.

color balance ( main ): color balance is a huge factor in my opinion. it’s what will allow your photo to be either purple/pink toned or orange/brown tone. you’ll be seeing me using this a lot in my psds.

black & white ( main, if too contrasted ): to me, black & white substitutes as a contrast, but the good thing about this tool is that it’ll either tone down the red hues or make it darker, as well as the yellow hues.

photo filter ( main ): this’ll substitute the vibrance. you’ll see why it’s important by the end of this tutorial.

channel mixer: this will serve as a color balance option. it’s helpful for boosting red, yellow, and blue hues.

color lookup (sometimes optional): this tool will help get a color tone to your photos. let’s say i want something more pink; then i’ll use a pink color lookup and set the opacity low.

gradient map & solid colors ( main ): also important. serves as a color balance substitute and could tone down the vibrance or could raise the brightness. i always recommend using these in ‘color’.

i’ll be using this photo to start off:

step one: i’ll start off using the brightness tool. here i’ll lower the brightness down to -9 & the contrast to -23.

step two: then, i’ll proceed to add a solid color (aka color fill) of this shade. after doing so, i’ll change the setting to “color” and lower the fill to 37.

step three: then, i’ll proceed to use the color filter with these settings.

and so far we already have this layer lineup, and these are the results so far.

it’s up to you if you’d like to add more filters to your photos, but this is the base for a purple/brown psd that looks good on dark/semi bright photos and lq photos. i’ll continue on to add to this look to make it more purple and brown so follow along! step four: i’ve added a color balance layer and changed out the photo to test my psd to see how drastically it’d change: but it didn’t. but then again, since psd edits appear different on phone screens, i started to mess with the color balance to get a more purple look, so that the purple doesn’t get cancelled out on phone screens and still remains pretty. so i used the following settings:

i applied this color balance layer UNDERNEATH the solid color and photo filter layer, because if you add this on the top of everything, the blue will be overpowering. if you do not want a heavy blue filter on your edit, always apply a solid color, gradient, or color balance layer underneath a solid color that’ll lower the vibrance of your edit. and with this setting:

my outcome was:

and if you haven’t noticed, i did apply my softer action which you can find over here!

soo, now that you have the basis of your pink/brown/blue psd, you can continue to mess around with the same steps as before! 

part two: tips

— stay away from hues. if you do decide to use hues, set the opacity to no more than 5%. this is because an overused hue can cancel out colors that’ll make your psd look decent. if you want to use a high opacity hue layer, at least use it on an image that you set your hue color to. (if i use a pink hue, i’ll use it on a pink photo) but make sure it’s not colorful, so it’ll look better on a pink and white photo [[like a cafe photo or ulzzang photo]]. because what the hue will do to a pink photo with brown in it is give the brown an unpleasant purple pink tone and i’ll just look not good. so overall: avoid hues. try to use the “color” option instead if you would like a color to pop more. — if you’re creating a soft psd, use a soft action! i’ve created one on my blog. an action is basically a group of <<literally>> actions created in photoshop. so lets say i want to take this sharpen and blur then noise i added onto my image, and apply it to another one; it cuts the work of redoing it over and over. so you just record what you want to be done to another photo and boom, you have an action! — keep in mind, you will always have to adjust a psd. even if you made a psd that looks amazing on a couple of photos with the same tones, one will always be maybe too orange or maybe too blue, and with that you’ll have to balance it out. if your edit comes out with a overruling color, use color balance to tone it down the opposite way. for example, if your photo comes out really pink and you aren’t satisfied, use color balance on the blues or yellows to make it more neutral. these would most likely be the things you’ll encounter when changing a psd. other than that, you should be satisfied with your creation! — contrast will either be your blessing or your curse. sometimes, it’s easy to get carried away with lowering you contrast, this is because it does! do not be hesitant to lower your contrast down. but just no to the point where it greys out your photo and looks dullish. also, do not be afraid to use the default black & white gradient. set it to ‘soft light’ and lower the opacity and voila, you get a decent and balanced looking psd that’s not too consumed by low contrast. — as you know, sometimes your icons after you post them will look somewhat different once you view them from your phone. technically, you cannot fix it. this is because you phone and computer have different screen viewings and color schemes (this is the easiest way i can explain it after researching about it for so long) it’ll typically desaturate your photo and make it look dull sometimes. what you can do is take time and observe well... it looks really desaturated on my phone screen? i’ll turn the saturation up just a bit.  just use that mindset and you’ll be set! just remember, the less vibrant a psd is through photoshop, it’ll look even more less vibrant through your phone screen and on tumblr. — don’t be afraid of lowering vibrance though! well, instead of lowering the vibrance, i just use the photo filter and set it to #333230 or #393633. these will act as a low vibrance but it’ll also add almost a greyish purple tint, which’ll come out pretty. — sometimes, it’ll be best to lower the opacity of a psd but most of the times, you shouldn’t have to. because a psd should never have too much overruling colors. so, lowering the opacity to most layers will help out SO MUCH. you don’t want a photo that’ll be colorful. you want it to look balanced and neat. — most of the time, you’ll have to be careful when selecting photos. because not only will it be for the sake of aesthetic and neatness; it’s simply also because not all psds will look good on every photo out there. most psds will look good on certain photos, and when you find a perfect photo to match the psd, just use the same color scheme or theme with your other photos. so yeah, thats all everyone!! feel free to leave any concerns or message me if i missed something and i’ll add it onto this post! happy editing, and i truly hope i addressed everything and helped you guys with insight.

[krita-foundation]

When I save my artwork and send it to my phone, it doesn't look like the one saved on my laptop. It usually looks like a more darker and saturated version. What can I do to prevent this from happening?

This is caused by color management trouble. The first thing you will want to check is whether you have exported the image with ‘force srgb’, then, the second part to check is whether it looks the same on an image viewer on the computer you use krita on.

If this isn’t the case, then it could be that you’ve configured the color management settings incorrectly. These should be using your screen’s display profile, which for Apple laptops is the ‘dci-p3′ profile, and for other laptops you will need to use the sRGB profile(which is selected as default), or really one that’s specifically created for your screen(but then it will still look different in the image viewer program, because the latter is typically not color managed).

If however the image viewer shows the same thing as Krita, then... I am afraid you are going to have to accept your phone has a much better screen than you laptop does (this is normal, the bigger the screen, the more expensive, so big laptops tend to have worse screens than tiny phones)

Check color managed workflow in the manual for more in depth information.

[scribblestatic]

Izuku’s quickly ushered off to the changing room closest to the NICU once he arrives. He’s given light turquoise clothes much like what nurses wear during surgery, and a cap to hold back his unruly hair, though it’s just barely on his head with the amount of fluff he’s grown. He has a face mask, gloves, and shoe covers, too. He could be mistaken for a nurse on a good day, had it not been for the gakuran under the outfit.

Then he’s introduced to a room in the NICU where the baby lays in his incubator, warbled cries echoing out from around the breathing tube. He’s squirming something fierce, which isn’t much considering his body, but he’s doing the best he can. Izuku approaches slowly as the baby keeps crying, his chest clenching with distress at the sound. Somehow...doesn’t the baby look worse than before?

There’s two holes in each side of the incubator for Izuku to put his gloved hands through, but he hesitates.

The baby squirms and cries between the two towels meant to keep him from moving too much, crying around the tube. So many different little tubes connected to the baby...so much plastic.

Izuku doesn’t have to really think about it when he removes his gloves. He does hear a little bit of protest behind him, but he doesn’t pay attention. Instead, he reaches his right hand in and calmly presses it to the tip of the baby’s head, right where his nose should be.

The baby gasps, coughs a little...moans...but the cries begin to peter off.

Then, eyes wide and watery, Izuku begins to pet the baby from the tip to the back of his head, shushing noises easing from his mouth on instinct. The baby squirms a little, turns his little body, gasps a bit…

Then goes blessedly silent, simply breathing as Izuku pets his head.

Izuku smiles behind the mask.

“It’s okay...you’re okay,” he whispers.

It never occurs to him that he’s been mentally calling the baby a ‘he’, even though he is without any developed genitals.

— —

“The blood tests have come back,” the doctor says into the phone. “Both for the baby and for the blood it was covered in.”

“What results do you all have?” the policewoman asks from the other side of the phone.

“Well, it’s...complicated.” The doctor turns in her seat in the darkened room, the bright lights of the NICU shining inwards through the one-sided mirror.

“How complicated can it be? It’s just blood.”

A dark-screened computer glows dimly in front of the doctor’s face, showing off the results of her research. “It’s very complicated, actually. Mildly. First of all, the identity of the blood on the baby. The blood matches that of Isoba Lisa. She’s between 30 to 45 years old according to the test. And, apparently, she’s been missing for the last 10 years.”

“Lisa...Isoba Lisa...hmm...yes. Yeah, I believe I’ve heard about that case. Gimme a second.” The other side of the line went silent save for the clicking of a computer. “Hmm...It was in Hokkaido, though. Nowhere near Tokyo. The police in the Ishikari district never got a trace of her heading over this way, either. But, well...I suppose that’s the point of a missing person.”

“Right…”

“But the last note that I see on Isoba was that the last sighting of her was about five years ago.”

On the policewoman’s side, the photos of the last sighting glows back at her. The photo is blurry, like it was taken on a polaroid in a moving car instead of a digital camera. There’s a woman with long, wispy brown hair ending at her shoulder blades standing in what looks to be a wheat field. She stands in only a white dress with her head tilted to the side. Her back is to the camera in the first photo. With the click of the computer mouse, the second appears, showing her head slightly turned.

It’s only with the third picture that the person perhaps realized it was her. She stares right back at the camera staring her way, eyes wide open, perhaps wider than they should’ve been held, lips partially open, two trickles of blood running down from her nose onto the collar of her shirt. 

It’s blurry in the photo as well, but with some facial recognition and identification software, the Hokkaido police had been able to identify that it had been her.

Police searched high and low through the fields of the Biei district, through the golden fields of Hokkaido for the missing woman. But that was the last seen of her.

But now, her blood was found on a young boy’s gakuran and found saturating the skin of a monster that can barely be called a baby..

“...We may need to reopen her case. But in the meantime, what else have you found?”

“Well...we received the blood test back for...the baby.”

“And?”

“It...doesn’t appear to be human.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“No, I mean, by the blood, it does not fit into common human normativity.”

The doctor listens for a moment as the policewoman goes quiet, and she stares at the dark-screened computer in front of her.

Neon green text is on the screen, vibrant against the black background. It has the creature’s bloodwork information pulled up on it, showing a few, very eerie facts.

“What do you mean the thing’s not normal?”

“Well, think of it like this. You know that humans have 23 chromosome pairs. Even after quirks became prominent in human biology, the change actually occurred with some of the amino acids and proteins that make our DNA. It’s a gene rather than a whole chromosome pair of its own. Some people have them and some don’t.” She glances through the one-sided mirror again, watching as the boy who found the creature pets and cooes at the monster. “So, for a while, I was rather ashamed of my reactions to the baby. It doesn’t matter if a person has extra limbs, hardened skin, or can create swords from their arms. They have 23 chromosome pairs, 46 chromosomes.”

“...And how does the baby differ.”

“It has 63 chromosomes.”

“...63.”

“Right. It has more in common with a mule than a human. And it is very, very pointedly not a human baby.”

“...But it cries like one.”

“That’s the other thing.” She stares at the computer screen as she speaks now, making sure she’s saying what she sees correctly. “After testing the blood between the records we have for Isoba Lisa and this...creature, we have a 78% match. And the baby’s blood type is somewhere between O-, like Isoba’s, and DEA 6.”

“DEA 6? What is that?”

“I didn’t really know either at first. I had do a bit of research on my own just to find out. And, well...” 

The doctor turns back towards the mirror and stares at the creature in the incubator.

“DEA 6 is a dog’s blood type.”

[euphoricpixi3]

Secret Admirer | yandere!jungkook |2|

Summary-  ❝ There’s just something special about seeing someone lose their mind over love. ❞

Warning-  This work is pure fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behavior in real life. Contains violence, manipulation, disability.

further links will be found in my bio

The poor boy nearly chokes on his coffee as you aggressively pull the closest chair to his seat.

Okay, so, you weren’t really an aggressive person, but you remember this one night, when you were super vulnerable to human emotions, you stumbled over this one article “We don’t need no man” and if you remember it correctly, one of the points was something along the lines of ‘Show who’s in charge of power’ so no one can’t blame you feeling threatened in a class full of men and if there was a moment to show power, it was the now before it’s not too late.

He stops.

Looks at you.

And before he could do anything else [wipe the coffee from his chin]

“I’m y/n” you say “and you are?”

The guy seems to do a literal double-take staring at you before murmuring something under his nose.

“Sorry, could you say that again?”  the smile appearing on your face probably looks like a badly sewed one.

Because if we’re being honest, you’re neither aggressive nor very daring.

In reality, you’re shy and a ball of fluff.

So you want to scream at yourself ‘what on earth are you doing’.

“Jeon Jungkook” the boy answers taking a big gulp of his literally steaming coffee.

Must be nice to have something stopping you from rambling, you think.

***

When the computer screen started to appear in 3D rather than in 2D you knew the class was coming to an end and it wasn’t hard to make an assumption.

You were screwed.

If you looked around, you could see that everyone had done at least half of the given assignment, you, on the other hand, were at the very start and all you wanted to do was scream:

“Kim Taehyung! I’m going to kill you for making me believe Word skills were enough to attend an IT class”.

Because no, it wasn’t.

So dear Kim Taehyung, fuck you.

**

The cafe you were currently sitting in was probably one of your favorite places in the whole campus.

There's nothing slick about it, no fancy fonts or white etching upon the glass. You could pick the whole thing up and send it back thirty years and it wouldn't look out of place. There aren't any tables with fancy umbrellas, just the uneven pavement baring the cracks of age.

After ordering a cup of black tea, you drift into consciousness. And then back out. The world is a blur, and random images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of your thoughts, as though they were being blown about viciously by a hurricane.

Tap on your shoulder momentarily brought you back to the outside world.

Turning around you saw Taehyung and Jimin looking down at you.

You know you should’ve asked how the classes went but you were just so tired. The whole world simply felt low resolution, a bad quality movie.

Managing to pull a tiny smile you move towards the window to let them sit.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see us” Taehyung’s smile could probably lighten the whole cafe.

He wraps his arm around your neck and ignores your whines as he runs his knuckles against the top of your head.

You easily pull away from Taehyung and for a few seconds just glare at him before turning to look at Jimin. “Hey” you mouth as he smiles.

“I need a minute,” you tell Taehyung after a moment. “Jimin’s grin threw me off and now I have to make myself angry again”.

Taehyung’s mouth hangs open.

And you think about how awkwardly it felt when the professor approached you and your empty computer screen, where you had nothing done, like actual 0%.

It doesn’t take much for you to snap back.

And by the look Taehyung is giving you, you know he’s not ready for the bomb you’re about to drop. You don’t know what look Jimin is currently sending you because unfortunately you’re just too soft for him and you're not about to let your angriness slip away.

After narrowing your eyes and taking a deep breath you open your mouth and have to immediately close it as Jungkook approaches your table with the cup of tea you have ordered.

“Fuck this is awkward” you mumble before sending a smile towards the barista. “Thank you!” you chirp and you can feel Taehyung freeze because no matter what happens, you never chirp only if you’re trying to soothe the rage you have in you at the moment.

Jungkook’s cheeks appear rose and he quickly asks if both Taehyung and Jimin wants anything else.

They do.

“Okay we good now” you take a deep breath again and the let the anger seethe into your bones.

“Kim Taehyung!” you almost snarl and you almost want to laugh the way his eyes get two sizes bigger, but not today. “What the fuck is going on in your head?”

Taehyung blinks. “I--”

“No. You don’t get to talk right now” you say, feeling happy about the way you sound.

Maybe that article was a good idea after all and not just a sign of procrastination because so far from what you’ve seen you learned way more reading it than reading the books for the test that you completely and utterly failed.

“What shooting star crossed the sky or what the fuck happened that you thought I had enough skills to take an IT class!” and from the corner of your eyes you see Jimin grinning.

that little-

The twenty-two seconds time out Taehyung uses to recollect himself.

“What crisis were you going through to listen to me?” Taehyung tasks furrowing his brows.

You look down your nose at him, eyes cold.

The table is quiet and tense. Not for long.

“Kim fucking Taehyung, I will personally take this bottle and shov-”

“Here’s your hot chocolate!” Jungkook jumps in and all of you startle.

Well except Jimin, he does that after a late second.

**

When Taehyung and Jimin leave to take something from Taehyung’s apartment, you know you should head back yourself.

Thunder rumbles through the sky and you kick at the sidewalk with your sneaker, fiddle with a gum wrapper in your pocket, watch as the crowd around you collectively raise an impenetrable mass of umbrellas.

You pull the black hood over your saturated form as you saunter in the soft rain, small pellets of water spitting on your hands as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles decorate the asphalt. Through the heavy, yet so calming sound, your name being called gets your attention. You manage to lift your head up just a bit.

From the corner of your hood, you can see Jungkook jogging towards you.

“Hi” you smile starting to laugh, “I think it’s like the fourth time I’m saying hello to you”

Jungkook’s face breaks into a smile and you almost want to coo at his bunny teeth.

He hums and shrugs “I don’t mind”.

You squint as the rain seems to get only heavier “Why did you come up to me? Did I forget something?”

He shakes his head slightly before giving a sheepish smile “Not exactly, I just thought it wouldn’t be nice to let a girl walk alone”

“Okay I guess” you smile a soft manner.

**

And Jungkook is fun and shy.

One minute he’s blurting dozens of words a second, the other he’s blushing so much it almost hurts to watch.

But it’s cute, really cute.

When you seem to be getting closer to your apartment, he clears his throat.

“So, it seems like you’re having trouble with your class” he chimes.

“It’s really not my cup of tea” you answer groaning, just remembering the struggle you can’t help but shiver.

“If you want, I can help you”

You stop in front of your door, your head goes back and forth between Jungkook and the doors a few times.

“Yeah, I’d like that. See you tomorrow!” you smile as he almost bounces back. Like a bunny, you think.

**

You're not used to it.

Whenever you yell “I’m home” the only thing that meets you and welcomes you back is silence.

Slaughtering silence.

Tiredly you shove your sneakers before making your way towards Jimin’s room, seeing as all of the lights are turned off in the living room or kitchen.

His tiny body is hidden under numerous blankets and only now you realize how cold it is in the apartment.

He breaks into a smile as his eyes shoot up from the phone screen towards you.

For a second you just stand and look at him and for the first time, he looks different.

His eyes turn strained, his grin starts to falter. Before you can even ask what’s wrong he starts to cry.

His hands hurriedly wipe away the tears as they show, but there’s no use, the keep rolling down and soon he starts shaking and crying.

In no time you pull him into a hug and both of you lay under the moonlight. The only sounds are quiet sobs and whimpers escaping Jimin’s lips with the accompany of loud raindrops smashing against the window.

From the corner of your eyes, you can see the bright screen of Jimin’s phone and never finished sentence.

‘ i went to the dance studio today and i miss it… i miss my old life ‘

I’m sorry” you say, exhaustion mixed who knows what else making your voice crack.

tag list:  @spiritualotaku @seokchella @chimchimsauce @moostachoaway y @cadet-lea-05 @jjk-chan chan @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @middlegguk @hobitoons @rebelskylar @bloggerbabesblog @v-2bucky

[fulldiarywords]

Worth the Thought

The dull, thudding dread in your stomach had started around half past three when your phone started buzzing - the monthly reminder from the cycle tracker app that your period should be starting any minute. 

It hadn’t. Yet. 

You swiped ignore on the notification and flipped the phone over on your desk, hoping that if you just concentrated on the spreadsheet in front of you, you’d be able to ignore the creeping anxiety about the fact that Auntie Flo usually arrived on time like clockwork.  Maybe it was just a day or two late.

But you couldn’t shake off the thought that maybe it wasn’t. And the computer screen was getting blurrier and blurrier by the minute and the sound of the clock on the wall opposite your chair was ticking louder and louder.  Your fingers felt like lead everytime you added a new sum to the column you were currently adding up. 

After about thirty minutes of a half hearted attempt of continuing the work day, you clicked the log out button on the desktop screen. 

“Hey, Claire?”, you asked, peering over the divider at your coworker. 

“Yeah??” She didn’t look up from her computer screen.

“I’m not feeling too well all the sudden. Gonna head out a bit early, I think.”

She stopped typing and met your gaze - “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.  Go ahead, doll. We’ll sort out these figures tomorrow.” 

You nodded your head in appreciation and gathered your things, cramming them into the oversized striped tote that George had given you a few Christmases ago. He reasoned that you loved stripes so it made sense that you should have something striped to carry around everyday - he seemed to always be insufferably cute in his logic of gift giving.  

The phone was the last thing you picked up - a new message notification from George seemed to be screaming out from the bright screen. 

So glad that you’ll be there tonight. 

“Shit.” You muttered it under your breath and hitched the bag on your shoulder. 

Geebs, I’m not feeling too well. Not sure if I can make it. 

It had taken him a while to gather the courage to ask you to accompany him to what he called “work functions”. You weren’t promoting anything, he had explained, so you didn’t need to be subjected to the endless barrage of flashbulbs and oddly boring questions from journalists. He would understand if you wanted to stay at home and keep everything private. But you didn’t mind. George always came to every office party or dinner, even the annual Christmas do that Claire tended to get too drunk at and cry to him about her apparently never ending singledom. Besides, you loved the way George swelled up with pride when he spoke about his experience working on a film - how much he loved creating something new. 

What’s up? 

Nothing serious. Just don’t feel too hot. Heading home early rn. 

I can ring Donna and see if I can get out of this thing. 

Don’t. Isn’t it a BAFTA party? 

Yea. That doesn’t matter tho. Been to enough at this point, tbh. 

Don’t be silly. I’m fine. Prob ate something bit odd at lunch. 

You sure, Piglet? 

You couldn’t help but give a small smile at his nickname for you. George claimed that when you got anxious, your voice got higher and you couldn’t stop saying “oh no” just like the Winnie the Pooh character. Also, there was his claim that when you laughed hard enough, you’d make soft snorting sounds instead of laughs. It was one of the cutest things about you, according to George. At least it was better than the nickname he ended up with. Allegedly - according to what you could remember - it started after one night where you had drank too much white wine for your own good and couldn’t find George inside the bar. You’d found him outside in the smoking section, chatting with a burly lighting grip in a Man City beanie.  Desperate to leave, you pawed at George’s shoulder, whining - “Geeeebs, I wanna gooo home now. Geeebs, lessssgo. Hooome. Goo.”   Man City had smirked and nodded at your swaying frame. “Geebs, looks like your girl needs a bit of help.” 

Yeah. I’m honestly just tired and wanna rest. Go! Have fun! Tell me all about it when you’re back! 

Ok. Ok. Ok. Party is at Groucho’s. Want me to pick up some ramen from that place in Soho that you like? 

Nah. Thank you tho :) 

What about Boots? Need me to grab anything?

Gonna stop omw home. 

Brilliant. Rest up, Pigs. Xx

Love you too, Geebs. X

By the time you’d heard the front door lock click open, the dread from earlier had turned into a tight panic that had threaded itself tightly into your chest.  If you just focussed on tidying up the flat, you wouldn’t have to think about what all the tests said. There weren’t thin pink lines in the suds of the washing up. 

“Hi, darling.” His voice sounded soft - as if he spoke any louder, he might cause your mysterious ailment to get worse. 

You didn’t turn around from the kitchen sink. Instead you squirted more Fairy liquid on an already saturated sponge. 

“Hi. How was the party?” 

“Just alright. Usual crowd. Usual questions. Managed to see Sam for a bit. He says hello, by the way. I convinced Donna to let me ditch early though.” 

You squinted, the mug in your hand slippery from the soap. “Really? You should have stayed!” 

George shrugged his coat off his shoulders, laying it over the back of the couch. He walked towards the kitchen, holding a brown paper bag. 

“I couldn’t possibly leave my poorly little piglet home alone any longer.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him place the bag on the island counter. Tonkostu. That ramen place in Soho you liked.  He was making it even harder to tell him what you needed to say. 

“Besides, we’ve both been busy and you know, I just wanted to be home instead of trying to come up with some clever line for who knows what”, he continued, unbuttoning his suit jacket. 

There wasn’t any way the mug in your hand could get cleaner. You sighed, placing it on the drying rack and turned to face George. He smiled as he met your eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m still just fine. Knackered.” 

“You’re being awfully vague about what’s going on. Did something happen at work?” 

Biting the inside of your lip, you turned back to the sink. It would be easier to have this conversation without having to actually look at him. George in a suit was a particular weakness of yours and he’d been loaned a new double breasted one for the BAFTA party. Your mind was already all over the place. 

“Well…” 

“Well….” He replied as he pulled a water glass out of the cupboard next to you, nudging you a bit to let him get to the faucet to fill it up. You relented and turned off the water after he was done. 

“Maybe you should look over there.” You said, gesturing towards the brown bag. 

“You had a takeaway issue?” He laughed, leaning against the counter edge as he took a sip. 

You sighed and adjusted the messy bun on top of your head. “No. The other thing on the counter.” 

As he walked the short distance to see what was there, it felt like your heart was going to drop out of your chest. You hadn’t planned to have this conversation. At least not tonight.

“Wait. Are these what I think they are?” His brow had furrowed as he picked up the group of white plastic sticks. 

You didn’t answer.

“Pigs? Are...you...you know?” His voice seemed to be getting a little higher. A little faster. He set the test back down, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up.  

“Am I what?”

George turned to you, his blue eyes wide with surprise - “Pregnant!” 

The silence in the two seconds that it took you to answer was suffocating, weighing itself down on your shoulders.

“Apparently so”, you flatly responded. 

“Fucking hell.” 

“You can say that again.” 

The joy in his voice made the nervousness you felt sting more - “You’re gonna have a baby. We’re gonna have a baby!” 

He took two wide steps towards you, his arms reaching for your waist. You sidestepped away from his embrace. You’d wanted to hear George say this, watch him slowly realise what was happening as he read the test for so long. Longer than you could remember. But for some reason, this felt all wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen just yet. There were so many things you wanted to do before this. Career advancements to be made, trips to be had, awards to be won, plans to dream up. 

“Hold on. Let’s talk about this for a minute.”

“What’s there to talk about this? This is..I think...probably...no.. the best thing that’s ever happened.” 

Exasperated, you grabbed the dish towel and twisted it around your hand. “I think we should really think about this. I mean. It’s a big step and we only just started thinking about getting married.” 

“We’ve been together for five years. We’re still going to get married but it looks like we might be changing up the timeline of life events, though. I thought you were on the pill...” 

“I was. I am. But I forgot my birth control that weekend last month

He had leaned back over to the island and picked up one of the pregnancy tests, examining it more closely. 

“Mmm..”

It would be easier if you didn’t say it straight to his face. You turned back towards the window over the sink, the red lights of the London skyline blinking silently back at you. 

“Maybe I don’t want to have this baby yet.”

There was a hitch in his voice - you didn’t need to see him to know that his face had fallen.

“What do you mean you don’t want to have this baby?”

“I’m not ready. At least I feel like I’m not ready.” The words felt like bombs dropping. 

“You’re not bloody ready? Are you mental? You’re going to be the most amazing mother to walk this earth.” He ran his hand through his hair, his face tightened in confusion. 

“I mean. I dunno. I just hadn’t really felt like I was at the point where I could take care of another life.” 

George moved closer to you, ignoring the sound of you turning the sink faucet. “You’re so ready.”

“Oh”, you responded dryly, “Did you have a conversation with my mind to get that information?”

“Ok. No. You’re right. I didn’t. But I know you. And I love you. And I know that you’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be grand.” 

Picking up a sauce pot, you resumed the washing up. You were stuck in now, but maybe the Fairy liquid could smooth over how awful this talk was going to get, you thought. 

“You’re not getting it. I don’t want this. Not yet.”

George gingerly laid his hand on your shoulder. “Wait. What are you trying to say?” His voice faltered. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know what I want!” 

“I thought you wanted children...” 

“I do! Just..not right now.” Your throat felt like it was clamping up as your voice rose. “We haven’t planned for this shit at all.” 

“Well. Yeah. We'll sort it out though.” 

You slammed the saucepot down in the sink. “No. You’re not listening. How are we going to fit a literal child into our lives? We live in a tiny fucking one bedroom flat. You’re about to leave to go to Australia for 3 months. Do we even have enough money to have a kid?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked away. “I’ll drop the damn film. You know we’re financially sound.” 

You wished that you’d turned on more lights when you got home. The half lit kitchen wasn’t helping the dark mood at all. 

“Ok. Well maybe this isn’t a we situation then. There are things besides those.  I have a promotion at work I want. A career. I want to move up the ladder. I know as an actor you can get that. It’s like getting bloody famous or something.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Alright. Let’s not get petty.” 

The sink groaned a sharp metallic click as the water suddenly stopped. 

“This fucking stupid sink! George. You were supposed to fix it!” 

He nudged you out of the way and quickly shut the faucet off. 

“Pigs. Let’s not get into the sink right now.”

You threw the towel onto the counter, staring at the strawberry print. “Ok fine then. Maybe I don’t want to be like your mum and give everything up to raise this child.” 

George snapped his head towards you, his voice low and harsh. He only spoke like that when he was truly angry. 

“Don’t you dare bring my mother into this.”

“Why? You know she gave up her costumes for you and your sister.  And now she’s a fucking nursery teacher.” 

“She had a choice. You have a choice.” The sound of his hand hitting the counter reverberated around the two of you. 

“Well. Maybe my choice is that I’m not going to keep it.” 

“That’s not your choice!” 

Shocked and open mouthed, you grabbed one of the tests. The plastic felt like it could cut into your palm, you were gripping it so tightly. 

“Are you.. Are you fucking seriously fucking telling me I don’t have a choice?” You waved your closed fist in front of him, his eyes following the white stick. “I cannot believe...you arsehole.” 

He held his hands up in surrender. You didn’t stop. 

“You of all fucking people would tell me that what I want to do with my goddamn body isn’t my choice.” 

“That’s not what I meant….” 

“What did you mean then? That you had the final say in what happened to your child in my body, huh?” 

“No.” He grabbed your wrist to stop you from waving the test at him. 

“Let go of my fucking arm.”

“You need to calm down. That’s not what I meant” 

You jerked your arm free and threw the stick at his feet. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down. I’m going upstairs. I swear to god, if you follow me.” 

Even forty five minutes in the bath felt like it wasn’t enough to make you feel better. You loved the clawfoot bathtub - it might have been your favourite thing in the cramped apartment you and George shared. 

The doorknob turned and you slid back under the water, scrunching your eyes and letting your nose stay slightly above waterline; hoping that if you stayed like that long enough, he would eventually just leave. 

“Hey” His voice sounded sad even muffled by the water. 

You didn’t respond. 

“I know that you can hear me. And I want to tell you that I’m sorry...I...shouldn’t have said that.” 

You opened one eye to his fuzzy form slouched above you.

“You’re absolutely right. It is your choice about what you want to do. And I need to support you. But I need you to talk to me about it first. It’s still going to have an impact on me. On us. But that doesn’t mean it will change anything about us. Or how I feel about you. How much I love you.” 

The water sloshed quietly as you slid yourself up the back of the tub. He didn’t notice that you were listening fully. 

“And you are going to be, whenever you want to be, the most amazing mother. You’re so kind and you love so deeply. You’re so fiercely protective that nothing will harm our child. I can’t wait to see that. I can’t wait..” 

“Geebs, it’s not an interview”, you said, laughing quietly at the way he tended to ramble when saying something he felt was important. 

He looked down at you, surprised. 

“There you are!” 

You smoothed your hair back, relishing the cool air of the tiled bathroom. 

“Thank you”, you responded quietly. 

“I needed to say it. What I said was wrong”, he sighed, perching himself on the edge of the tub, his back to you. 

“I’m so scared.”

“I’m scared too.” 

You looked up at him, slightly astounded that your take on everything the hard way George had responded. He gently drew a line back and forth on the water’s surface - “In fact. I’m bloody terrified.” 

“Why?”

He concentrated on the line, avoiding your gaze. “Well, what if something goes wrong? What if...you know..we...loseit. Or it hates us? Or it doesn’t learn anything we try and teach it? What if I’m not a good father? Or god forbid, it’s an Arsenal supporter?” 

You pulled yourself up further, bringing your knees to your chest and laughed. “Geebs, what football team our child supports is the least of your worries.” 

“Are you ready?”  Bathwater rippled outwards from his arm as he placed his large hand softly against your stomach. 

You paused and took his other hand in yours, water streaming into the crisp blue of his shirt - “Yes. I think I am. It took this bath and a good long cry. But...I dunno. Feels right. I’m still worried though.” 

“You’re going to be an amazing mum.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling cheekily. “You’ll be a better father though.” 

“Oh..c’mon now.” 

You blushed and pulled your mouth tightly into a smile - “You know, I actually decided I wanted to have your children after our sixth date.” 

He pursed his mouth, trying to remember the exact memory.

“Wait...are you talking about the time we went to that karaoke bar in Shoreditch with Anna and that lot and I sang that Heart song?” 

“Maybe..”

“Are you telling me that my show stopping rendition of Barracuda made you figure that out? Wow...it must have been really sexy then..”

“Oh fuck off!” You said, splashing his thigh. 

“Hey! Watch the trousers! This is Dior! I’ve got to give it back next week!” He feigned horror at the mark growing on his leg. 

The two of you sat silently for a few minutes, content with the immense agreement you had made. George lazily rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand as you leaned back against the embrace of the curved tub.

“Piglet?”

“Yes,” you murmured. 

“When did it happen? It couldn’t have been that long ago...do you think it was after Daisy’s housewarming when we were too pissed to make it to the bedroom and we fucked on the kitchen floor?” 

You didn’t respond, chuckling quietly instead. 

“Or...was it the other night. You know. When the new Attenborough series about Antarctica got a bit tedious..” 

“Geebs, it doesn’t really matter. It’s happening regardless.”

“Yes. Quite right. It probably would be pretty disturbing to learn that you were conceived to the soundtrack of a squawking flock of Emperor penguins. Anyways..Regardless...We should probably think about moving soon. I’ve actually been thinking about looking in Barnes for a while now. I want to raise our children there. In a proper house. It’s a bit more expensive than when I was a kid..but I think we can manage...I’ll speak with mum...see what she can find out..

“Geebs?” 

“Yes, Pigs?” 

“We’ve just decided to have the bloody kid. I’m too tired to figure out where we’re going to put it right now.” 

“Oh. Of course.” He jumped up, reaching for a towel off the rack. “Let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted too.” 

You gently lifted yourself out of the water and stepped into the open towel, wrapping it around yourself - “Go get ready. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

He came back five minutes later, changed out of his suit and into his favourite pair of pyjama bottoms; printed with sock monkeys and so threadbare, they needed to go in the bin but you couldn’t break the news to him. You dragged a comb through your wet hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. His bare chest was cool against your bath warmed skin. 

“Darling?”, he murmured, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I’d almost forgotten how great your tits look when you’re in the bath.”  His eyes met yours in the mirror. 

You rolled your eyes. “Well get ready then. They’re only going to get bigger these next nine months.”

His face lit up - “This pregnancy is going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

You quickly turned and tapped him on the stomach with your brush, laughing. 

“You pervert.”

“Ow! That hurt!” 

And you wish that you’d known then, in all that doubt and worry, that in nine months and a few weeks time, you’d open your eyes in a sterile room full of blinding light to see George holding a squirming bundle of pale pink in his long arms. So small in his hands. The tears wouldn’t stop and you won’t be sure if it’s the pain of the feeling of your hips broken, body split in two or the waves of joy that kept washing over you again and again, the elation almost drowning your heart. He would lean down, a small cry emerging from the bundle. “Look, Pigs. Look at her. I’m sorry they gave her to me first..hold her.” And the words wouldn’t be able to form as you moved your mouth into a yes. The bundle on your chest while George, his eyes tearful as he delicately placed his thumb on your daughter’s rosebud lips. She would blink, her eyes the same sea blue as her father’s as he brushed her cheek. And he would look to you, a vastness of love you’d never seen. “She’s so perfect...you’re perfect. You’re so bloody perfect.” His kisses against your crying eyes. On your lips. And all the blood, the doctor’s commands, the panic, the nausea, the doubt. All that doubt and worry would be worth it all. 

[mysticsparklewings]

Behind the Screens

Oh, look, a reminder of why I don't do detailed backgrounds often! Okay, okay, this is actually an entry for projecteducate's All Mediums Contest: From Logos To Art. It sounded like a fun challenge, so I thought I'd take a stab at it. (Hopefully obviously) My primary logo choice/inspiration was the Instagram logo, largely because I had a strong visual idea for it in my mind right away. However, if you look closely there are logo inspirations hiding in there, too.  Some of them I think are more obvious, while others are more subtle. In case you'd rather try to find them on your own, I'll list them in small text so you can skip to the next paragraph and not be spoiled. Moving left to right, top to bottom: Outside the window is the Twitter bird, tweeting away; Then we have a literal FaceBook propped up against the window, and next to it a "Ko-Fi" Coffee cup; below the window we have a chair, the SnapChair, based off the SnapChat logo/ghost, which I am particularly proud of. On the right side of the art, we have a globe with some plastic bits that's inspired by the Google Chrome logo; then a PinBoard as a reference to Pinterest; and side-by-side on the table we have an Apple-apple and a Tumblr-tumbler. Fun fact: Because of that apple I now know there are in fact real apple species that have white skin, the most common among them seeming to be the "white transparent" variety. You'll notice all the logos have something to do with the internet/computers/social media, and though I did think about sneaking in a couple of other logos like Dominos or the NBC Peacock (since those logos have good visuals), I ultimately decided it was better to stick to a more cohesive theme. This is also where the title came from, as the idea is this is the reality behind the screens of a perfectly poised Instagram photo. And therein lies the further theme/message you can take away from this; Notice how the figure is holding the camera so that we can't see their face at all, like a mask. And how the other logos have crept into the rest of the scene, in a way that a lot of them you probably wouldn't notice as internet icons if it wasn't pointed out to you. Both of these are realities for a lot of people. On the internet, we put on a facade like a mask. We control the narrative of what people see of us. And our online presence and habits sneak into our lives in ways we might not notice right away. Both things happen for better or worse, and they can and do happen to anyone, regardless of who you are. To that end, I consciously tried to make the person holding the camera little androgynous, so that it could be a boy or girl, but since this is me we're talking about I'm pretty sure it leans more notably on the feminine side.  And it doesn't help that for the positioning of the hands I had to use reference photos of myself when I couldn't find quite what I was looking for online. Speaking of which; to make the art I started out with a traditional sketch of the figure and the background bits that were inspired by logos, except for the Pinboard and Kofi/coffee cup. And it's kinda funny because I wanted to base the camera design off of one of the newer instant Polaroid cameras (as that seemed the most fitting to transform into the Instagram Logo camera), and fortunately when I was taking the reference photos my phone is sized just so that I could use it as more or less a stand-in or base. This worked out even better because it meant I could just take the photos in front of a mirror instead of having to set a timer and hope I could pose correctly from a distance.   I scanned the sketches in, and then came the trickier part: That background. Especially since a lot of the concept here relies pretty heavily on it. I used a lot of reference photos I found online for this. I did have a basic, rudimentary sketch of my own that I made without any references, but I knew to get the lighting and perspective right I was going to need some actual photos to go off of, and I don't personally have a room that looks like what I had in mind for this. Based on these photos, I did end up putting the shelves over the pinboard, as opposed to putting the pinboard higher on the wall, but other than that and some slight adjusts to the perspective, my general idea for the room stayed the same. And, given my tablet situation, I gave myself a bit of break and decided not to do perfectly clean, solid linework for anything other than the human figure and the camera they're holding. The camera kinda had to have clean lines for this to work, and I thought the figure would stand out from the background better if they were done with clean lines. (And I'm pretty sure I was right about that.) For once in my life, I mostly started in the back and moved my way forward. The walls and ceilings, then the window, then the shelves and the stuff on them, then the banners over the window. And my process reminded largely the same throughout: Loosely line the object, give it a base layer of color, then go back and shade/lighten as necessary. And I was using semi-realistic colors, though I knew they were going to get largely disguised later on when I did the all-over overlay to really drive the Instagram logo inspiration home. Naturally, all the stuff on the shelves was a largely more annoying undertaking than I'd anticipated, but it wasn't quite as bad as the multitude of books I had to do for World in a Book. It's not even that drawing in a bunch of objects like that is hard, necessarily, it just takes a while to get through if you want it to look right. Anyway. Once all of that was done, I took a break to work on the figure and camera, getting the lines done and then moving on once again. Then it was the other logo bits' turn. Once I had them all lined and properly arranged/placed (as they were drawn as separate, individual items from the rest of the scene), I colored each one using the actual logo colors first, then went back to shade them, and then fiddled with some adjustments to bring the saturation down a little and make them blend a bit better with the overall tone. I would end up having to undo some of this after I added the overlay, and as otherwise with that in place some of the logo-inspired things would've either blended in too well or stood out way too much, depending on which one it was. (The camera is a bit of an exception here as instead of getting proper shading, I opted to line it only and just use my home-made gradient inside of it. Once those were taken care of, I back-tracked to color in the figure. Which went similarly to everything else, save for this time I'd use multiple layers for the shading/highlights until I was happy with it, then I merged all that onto a layer about the base color. And then, because I have one solid blue-gray base color for them, I then went back and separated the hair, skin, and shirt with their own unique colors. That was all the coloring done, so I moved on to filling all the blank "photo" spaces I'd left everywhere; the pinboard, the tumbler, even a little picture on one of the shelves. For this, I simply used my own artworks as that seemed like the fastest and easiest way. I just went through my gallery, found pieces I thought would fit properly, then copy & pasted them in and adjusted them to size. A few I did a little perspective warping on just to be thorough, but nothing too crazy. Finally, then I could move on to arguably the most important part: The overlay. Actually, aside from the overlay making the whole image look a little bit too dark, a little too saturated, that went a lot smoother than I thought it would. I just had to turn the saturation down a bit and bring the lightness up to fix that. Or, that's what I thought. I must've saved this thing 6 or 7 times thinking it was finished before spotting this, that, or the other thing (usually related to lighting or shading) that needed to be fixed. First, it was just fiddling with the overlay layer because it still seemed too dark overall, then it was tinkering with shading in various places, and then I decided to drop the ko-fi cup in there because it felt like that spot on the windowsill needed something else and I really wanted just one more logo reference. And then the bottom left corner I thought I fixed earlier now seemed too dark, so I had to un-fix/re-fix that. And of course, even after all that back-and-forth, I thought I was finally, finally done when I noticed the black checkerboard squares on the SnapChair were too dark of a black compared to the blacks/darks elsewhere in the photo, especially considering how light the area around the chair is. I'm sure I could've left it alone and it would've been okay, but my own brain wouldn't let me. So I fixed it! It's not even that noticeable of a difference, but it makes my brain feel so much better knowing it was indeed fixed. Fortunately, after that (at least for now) I stopped noticing things to tweak/fix. It's still not completely perfect, but the things I could continue playing with are at least to my satisfaction to the point I'm comfortable calling it finished. Though, honestly, it already feels like this description should be a lot longer when I think about the 3-4 days I spent working on this.    It was a lot of work, but just like I thought it would be, it was fun and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It was a real challenge as far as shading and perspective go, and obviously, for as strong of an image I had in my head when I started, it wasn't exactly a cakewalk to get it there. A lot of the lines are rough up-close, but they don't look so bad when there's so much else going on in the picture to distract from them.  Maybe I'll try the "softer" lines like this more often. I do know one thing, though, I'm going to be avoiding detailed backgrounds for a while. They always take a lot out of me. ____ Artwork (c) me, MysticSparkleWings I do not own any of the logos that inspired parts of this artwork ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram