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blueprint-han · 3 years

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desert rose — yang jeongin.

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

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

pairing: jeongin x reader

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

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

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

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

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

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

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

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lend me a hand, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was pretty.

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

Oh my, was this love?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

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

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

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

Except, you had no happy ending.

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

It was hard.

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

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

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

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

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

Jeongin can hear the noises.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

And that’s a wrong move.

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

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

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

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

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You doubt it ever will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Jeongin is devastated.

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful, love.”

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

“Where’s m-mom?”

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

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

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

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

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

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

Was this the end?

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

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

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

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

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

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

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

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

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

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

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

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

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he leaves.

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

But you feel so empty.

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

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

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

“Honey?”

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

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

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

“W-why?” You croak.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

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

“Good night mom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

Was he the reason you were going to die?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, go to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh… alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

It’s the least he can do.

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

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

“Can you do me another favor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, doctor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

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

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

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

but what if she had never recovered?

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emsartwork · 4 years

Note

i forgot to add: how do design ????!?!??????

So I’m not expert but this is how I think of character design! (also sry if you were asking about clothing/outfit design thats a little different)

under the cut because this is long im so sorry

So in my opinion there are three really important aspects for character design!

AESTHETIC: obviously everybody’s aesthetic is different, but this is more about what vibe the character has, what makes them THEM design wise.

INTENTION: who is the character supposed to be? this can range from their personality, their back story, their occupation, or their role in the story, but the design need to fit that intention.

COHESION: does the design go well together? or do certain aspects clash too much? obviously you can have disjointed parts of a character design, and if those serve a purpose then thats fine, but if its so disjointed its distracting from the character as a whole you might need to tweak things.

AESTHETIC: the contrasting part of the design (white flowers in dark hair, dark trim on dress, and dark shoes) provide interest to the eye. The mixing of round and sharp shapes also keeps the design from feeling “boring” even though its relatively simple.

INTENTION: so what role would this little doodle character have? according to her design elements, shes cute and friendly with her round shapes (bouncy balls, babies, etc), but could have a sharp/fast/active or even dangerous edge to her with the triangles (arrows, knives etc). of course the design doesn’t limit her possible roles. She could be a bubbly younger sister who teases the older protagonist, or maybe she’s the villain hiding in plain sight. the shape this character design doesn’t really have is squares(think bricks and rocks), which communicates that she might not be really strong, steady, or reliable.

COHESION: repeating the curves across her whole design builds cohesion, it communicates that “yes, these are all part of the same character”, it also allows the eye to “rest” on a familiar shape or line.

NOW LETS LOOK AT SOME DESIGNS

(Boku no Hero Academia) so both of these characters are super heroes, but have vastly different design elements. so lets analyze them.

OCHAKO(the pink one) is all rounds, with a few pointed shapes in hair mostly, but a little on her costume as well. Her personality is cute, bubbly, and friendly which perfectly suits her soft and bouncy design. Howevre she also has a very slight edge to her, which is seen her determination and drive to improve herself over the course of the anime.

KIRISHIMA(the red one) at first glance, seems to be super pointy!! shapes that are usually seen on villains or really dangerous characters, but while he IS sharp(literally sometimes) and sometimes aggressive, he is also made of squares, which perfectly suits his loyal “i gotchu bro” attitude towards most of the other characters in the anime.

ISSUE AREAS: so the only problems i have with Ochako and Kirishima’s designs is that their costumes each have one area that clashes a little too much for my taste. With Ochako, the belt over the color blocking stripes down her crotch are......questionable taste wise. I think the design would be better if the pink chest ended above the belt in a shallow v. not only would this mirror the triangle aspects of her hair, it would fit the belt outline, and continue the trend her costume has of being “grounded” or “heavy”. Kirishima has those.... gears??? around his shoulders??? and while the gear teeth are technically squares, the gear shape itself is a circle, which is a shape that isn’t present anywhere else in his design. I think changing the gears to something similar to his boots or his mask/headgear would create a more cohesive design(also the gears just look hard to move in)

These two characters are presented as individuals so their costumes don’t have to match at all even though they are still seen as “connected” because of the art style for the face, hair, and body.

In a group giving the outfits cohesive motifs is an easy way to present a strong team image! In Yuki Yuna is a Hero, the girls all have colored lines(usually princess seam placement), armor or fabric hip accents, covered arms, and similar flower shapes in their hair. The Aesthetic of each girl is strong in a monochrome signature color, but not over whelming as the black+white connects them even in color so they aren’t out of place.

Speaking of color! if your characters are all similar looking (like same body for all of them) you can communicate their personality and aesthetic just with color! (only gonna talk about a few of the ponies) Pinkie Pie (the really pink one) is energetic and playful, so her color scheme is a variation of the primary colors(happy, child like), and have one of the more saturated colors(high energy, intense) of these characters in a large quantity. Apple Jack (the orange one) is a down to earth farm girl, and her color palette is accordingly, mostly earth tones, its also warm analogous colors, which makes her appear un-complicated and warm personality wise. the pop of red is a nice touch to add interest, but notice that its uses sparingly in her cutie mark and tail accessory. Rarity on the other hand is elegant and fussy, her high contrast scheme of white and dark blue/purples gives her more visual interest and is something that makes her appear more “complex” in addition to the gradient thats included in her hair. the colors are also all cool colors, bringing to mind cool glass or water which both have connotations of grace and beauty.

however all the characters here are unified by their colors being on the pastel side, which is also important for a cohesive cast.

another, short, note on color; making the color/line/shading of your figure different from the background can help them stand out, this is used ESPECIALLY in children’s media, but can be applied to any illustration or animation as needed.

Color can also help your characters “read” quickly on screen, the powerpuff girls are a prime example, of having a distinct color blocking and silhouette. even the color blobs at the top and my crappy hand silhouettes STILL read as the characters despite being broken down into abstract elements. I also really enjoy the thick outline in the powerpuff girls, it really makes the characters pop to the foreground even though they have pretty simple designs and are often in a colorful setting.

Also, for a lot of animation, silhouette is INCREDIBLY important for your characters, some designers sketch silhouettes and then design the particulars its so important to nail the shape. These examples from Coraline are some of my favorites (though Laika wins in my heart every time no matter what lmao) because the simple shapes are SO CLEAR and indicative of the character, you literally don’t need to have watched the movie to know these are each different characters with different personalities and roles.

silhouette can also help tell the story. In Kubo and the two strings (another Laika film) the above three characters are sisters. One has chosen to leave her home in the heavens to live on earth, and the other two stay in their roles as “heavenly” warriors. This is even shown through their designs, the two sisters are weighted on top and their cloaks don’t even touch the ground, while the first woman has trailing, heavy sleeves, hair, and robes all grounding her and emphasizing her connection with the earth.

another example of shape/silhouette reflecting the story, In The Croods, the family of cavemen are for the most part very top heavy, with large torsos and arms, usually in a more hunched over position, while the newcomer, Guy, is bottom heavy with thin arms and stands more upright. In the plot, the family represents the old ways, the strength and rules that have helped them survive, they look like very stereotypical “cavemen”, while Guy resembles the modern man, and appropriately is associated with new ideas and forward thinking.

MORE SHAPES, in DC super hero girls each girl has a distinct personality emulated by her shape language. Zatana is dramatic curves and edges, Super girl is hard, straight edges against curves, giving her a solid muscular shape. Wonder Woman, though also strong, is taller and leaner, lending to a confident leader type. Green Lantern is slim, her lines all flow into each other giving her a go with the flow look. Bumble Bee is, of course, tiny, but her boots and gauntlets add weight and strength to her otherwise small frame. Batgirl is lanky and has a lot of pointed style lines, reminding the viewer of a skinny cat (ironic what with cat woman i know) or weasel which mirrors her preferred “sneaky” crime fighting style. (also yes this was just an excuse for me to gush abt how much i love the dcshg designs shut up)

so in my opinion, Cartoon Saloon’s The Secret of Kells is PERFECT in aesthetic, intention, and cohesion. Kells focuses very strongly on creating silhouette WITHIN the larger figure shape via color and line, most of the characters pictured here have no neck, the one who does, Brendan, is the main character and the use of negative space that cuts into his shape is used to draw attention to him. Kells is also very strongly inspired by Medieval Illuminated manuscripts (namely, the book of kells lmao). The characters still manage to stand out against outrageously detailed backgrounds via their simple shapes and strong color blocking.

Aisling, a secondary but very important character, is not human, and has a totally different shape language from the rest of the characters. She is thin and pointy, while most of the others are round or square. Aisling also has the most negative space making up her silhouette, compare the triangles made by her arms and legs in the above picture to the figures in the first image where everybody’s body is self contained with no negative space. She is also very different color wise, very pale and cool colored, as opposed to the warm saturated colors of the human characters. (yes this was another excuse to gush abt one of my fave pieces of media deal with it)

hopefully that wasn’t too rambley and actually helps? if yall have more specific design questions lemma know lol

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saltedsour · 3 years

Note

wahhhhh how are you literally so good with colors?? /lh If you ever open commissions/do commissions I would absolutely love to know your rates and will totally buy something form you omg

I don't plan to do commissions (in the near future), but ahhhh thanks!

A new thing I'm having fun playing with is slapping the JS&B Pink with a Cyan overlay!

Play around with the opacity of the overlay, slap on a dark-ish purple multiply, and it's literally done.

My favourite thing to do is just keep the colour palettes not too crazy, and go all out on the filters.

(Tree really has only two colours in the most simplified form, white and rlly light blue. Chronos goes with a White > Black > Pink vibe. I didn't really add any pink to his clothes, at least for what you can see here. He also kinda got this nice "Light colour, middle colour (pink), dark colour" without having to make a desaturated grey grrr bark bark.)

GRADIENTS! GRADIENTS R ALSO FUN !! It helps while I'm fucking around with colours but I don't wanna make too drastic of a change.

(chronos' most simplified design has just 3 colours, everything else was just overlays and multiplies.)

Whatcha gotta do is just kinda,,, play around with the colours (and the saturation/blending mode!! the bottom red part of the comic was used with a blending mode that I never used before (and probably used incorrectly) but it looked cool so it stays) until it gets something you like.

The lamps in the two bgs of the comic originally gonna be more multicoloured, but it ended up looking out of place, so I made it stick to warm colours, to still give an Aesthetic.

Another thing to add is the transparent colour in the text bubbles, it all depends on the bg for that. If it's white on a dark background it stands out, and vice versa.

Another thing that makes the colours work, the pink on Blixer's clothes is slightly more blue than the one for his body colour. It sets things apart and makes it look sooooooooo much better imo.

Anyways thanks bestie u unlocked a part of my artist skills.

might make a comic after this teehee /lh /hj

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derireo · 3 years

Text

(like this engine) my heart roars ↦ tasuizu

A joyride ends better than expected.

Tasuku loses control of the reins Izumi had so kindly given him.

「 5k words 」

cw: consumption of alcohol, kissing, sexual tension

Driving down the empty highway late at night was probably one of the things Izumi wanted to do the most in this lifetime when she first discovered how beautiful the city looked beneath the shining stars.

She remembered it like it was yesterday, how the metal railing whipped past her as she drove down the highway towards Veludo after a long day at work, city lights twinkling as if they were beckoning her to come on down.

The wind that fateful night had seeped into the car as her playlist switched to a song that suited the scenery best, blowing the hair from her face.

Green, red, white, blue. Different coloured lights filled the city. The view from where she drove left this feeling of longing to reside in her heart, and it was the lone reason why she had asked Sakyo if they could invest in a new vehicle.

(Of course, her request was turned down.)

She never had the chance to experience such a view again after that, her job not requiring her to go so far out of the city anymore.

She was back to walking around Veludo—not that she hated it, but... the thrill wasn't there.

One time, she decided to run around the neighbourhood late at night to see if it would elicit the same type of elation she felt when driving down that same highway, but to no avail.

Izumi couldn't remember a time when she felt as free as she did when she rolled that window down and let the soothing breeze throw her hair around like it did.

She reminisced the memory of the cool air snaking around her skin in a comforting coil and the roaring wind filling her ears as she sat in the courtyard with a beer in hand.

Very much like that one night, the moon loomed over Veludo and cast upon the town its shimmering glow, stars twinkling.

That sense of longing had come back to caress the narrow shoulders of Izumi as she stared up at the black and blue gradient of the sky and she sat in her own comfortable silence as the crickets chirped. She had her feet propped up on the bench, eyes half-lidded as her mouth pressed at the lip of her can.

The sound of heavy footsteps grazing the grass made Izumi twitch and she turned her head to the side to look at who was still up at this time of night.

The person who stood before her was Tasuku, mouth curled into a disapproving frown as he stared down at Izumi with scrutinizing violet eyes, leather jacket donned with a helmet hanging from his fingers by the straps.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asked.

His scolding tone wasn't enough to make Izumi apologise, but it did make her smile. She took a sip from her can and tapped the metal with her other hand to tell Tasuku just what she was doing.

"Drinking." She murmured, sending the man a wink for no good reason.

Tasuku scoffed when he took a glance at the beer in her hand and then the rest of the cans that sat in a neat line beside her.

"Yeah." He crossed his arms. "I can see that."

Izumi pursed her lips, biting at the edge of her can. "Then why'd you ask?"

It was an innocent enough question and it didn't sound like Izumi was teasing him, but Tasuku still had to bite his tongue to keep himself from getting too upset.

He took a step closer to the director and reached out for the thin shawl she had worn out into the courtyard, roughly tugging the material closer around her body to make sure she was staying warm.

(Hm. She was wearing her sleep shorts though, so Tasuku wasn't of much help anyway.)

He sighed. "You should be sleeping. It's late." At that, he took away the nearly empty can from Izumi's hand to keep her from consuming anymore alcohol for the night. His eyebrows were pinched in mild annoyance, but it was normal to have Izumi get on his nerves without even trying.

"Hey..." Izumi grumbled, not at all fighting to get her unfinished can of beer back. There was no use getting in a physical tussle with Tasuku when he was the one with the advantage of being sober (she wasn't drunk, but tipsy).

"I'm just not tired." Izumi frowned, watching as Tasuku placed his sleek black helmet in her lap to begin collecting the other cans she had accumulated over the span of a couple of hours.

Tasuku spared her an unimpressed glance as he walked away from the bench to drop all of the cans in the recycling bin near the entrance of the courtyard, returning empty handed.

"The dark circles tell me otherwise." The actor sighed and took his helmet back from Izumi, curling his empty hand around her elbow to pull her to her feet. "You're going to bed."

"No way." Izumi complained as she stumbled into Tasuku's side, losing her balance with each pull on her arm.

Her small frame made it easy for Tasuku to move her any way he wanted, but with how Izumi was twisting in his grip made it difficult for him to drag her back inside the courtyard, her annoyed huffs aggravating him.

"This is bullying. I'm being bullied." She hissed angrily.

"This," Tasuku hissed back. "is me taking care of you." He dragged her towards the courtyard doors that would lead her inside the dorm.

"Nooo.... Tasuku!" Izumi groaned as she tripped over the ledge that separated the outside from the inside, her outdoor slippers falling from her feet as her socks slid against the varnished floor.

Her voice was hushed when they made it inside and she glared at Tasuku who was squinting down at her, his hand still tight around her elbow.

"You should go to bed too if you're forcing me inside." She grouched unhappily and pointed at the black helmet that hung from his fingers. "You're what people call a 'hypocrite'."

"I will hurt your feelings." Tasuku seethed with annoyance, too busy quarrelling with Izumi to mind that he was wearing his boots indoors. If he forgets to clean it when he comes home later, he'll just have to deal with the consequences.

Izumi pouted. "My feelings are already hurt. Make it up to me with a ride."

"So that's what you've been aiming for, huh." Tasuku sighed, releasing her arm with a click of his tongue. "Whatever. Go change into something warmer then."

"I knew you weren't going to wear a jacket." Tasuku sighed in disappointment when Izumi came back to the courtyard with an oversized sweater and a pair of boyfriend jeans. She looked tiny and was prone to get cold due to her choice of clothes. He was glad that he had grabbed his grey zip up when he returned to his room earlier.

He stood up from the bench with a heavy sigh and threw the jacket at Izumi, the director fumbling around with the soft fleece until she figured out how to put it on.

"Why do you never take care of yourself?" Tasuku frowned helplessly, noticing that she didn't bring a scarf with her either.

Someone in the dorm would probably kill him if they found out he was the reason why she'd gotten sick.

The crickets chirped as the director shrugged, and the pair walked towards the garage where Tasuku pulled a keychain from his jacket and pressed a button, the whir of the doors painstakingly loud.

Izumi cringed. "Ugh. No doubt that woke someone up." Following Tasuku, she who ducked under the still moving doors.

"Then make quick work and let's get outta here." Tasuku grumbled as he strode towards one side of the garage to grab the unused helmet he had lying around. With a toss, he threw the protective gear at Izumi who caught it with ease.

He jogged back to where she stood with his bike and grabbed his own helmet that he hung on the handle, putting it on after helping his director sit on the backseat of the vehicle.

Kicking his long leg over the motorcycle, Tasuku waited for Izumi to hop on behind him, her body warm against his back as she tugged the chin strap until it was a snug fit.

"Don't let go." Tasuku called out to her as he kickstarted the engine, the motorcycle roaring to life beneath them.

Izumi's arms tightened around his waist like a coil and nodded, keeping herself as close to his back as he could without hindering his movement. "Yup."

She held him tight enough to make Tasuku's breath hitch at the close proximity, but he covered it up by pushing his bike upright with his boot clad foot, kicking away the bar so that he could drive onto the road.

With a delighted sigh, Izumi leaned her head back to enjoy the gusts of wind that blew against her.

The street lamps were dim, but still held enough light for Tasuku's bike to be seen kilometres away, but after a few moments of speed racing it out of the neighbourhood, they weren't visible from the dorm anymore.

The thrill of having to lean to help steer the bike as their knees nearly grazed the ground was something Izumi never knew she needed to experience in her life. It was almost like Tasuku was acting like they were in a race with someone else with how he sped along the road that led to the highway, and Izumi was just gobbling all of the excitement up.

She almost acted on impulse when they drove over a huge hill and caught some air, but Tasuku stopped her before she could.

"I said don't let go, you idiot!" He shouted over the wind that whipped past them, grabbing onto Izumi's hands that nearly slipped from his abdomen.

Izumi was planning on throwing her arms up in the air as if she were on a rollercoaster (you know, like an idiot), but was thankfully boycotted by Tasuku who had a feeling that he knew what she was going to do.

Izumi clicked her tongue and went back to hugging Tasuku's waist, but didn't forget to add a threat despite her obedience.

"If you say that to me one more time, I'll really let go." Izumi hissed through the wind.

Tasuku begged over the sound of his motorcycle growling as they sped up the highway. "Please don't."

"This is nice." Izumi smiled faintly as she leaned back against Tasuku's parked bike, admiring the city that never ceased to work.

The wind blew similar to that night she last enjoyed like this and it brushed her neck like they were fingers tracing the smooth expanse of her throat.

Her eyes closed at the comforting caress and basked in the buzz of alcohol that still seemed to course through her body, hands pressing comfortably into the leather seats of Tasuku's bike.

The actor stood beside her casually, but couldn't help but stare as Izumi's head fell back with a sigh dripping out of her lips.

There was no doubt in Tasuku's mind that Izumi was definitely his type, and the way she looked tonight, dressed in baggy boyfriend jeans with a sweet pastel sweater with cats on the chest just reinforced the thought.

Tasuku didn't notice this before either, but she even wore her round glasses and it made the emotionally expressive part of him inwardly clench his fists.

On top of being an attractive young woman who was the same age as him, she was someone who wasn't afraid of his curt personality and actually quite enjoyed partaking in friendly little fights.

Not to mention, she was definitely a little empty in the head sometimes.

It was cute. Kind of.

Tasuku barely had the chance to resist the adoration that came to soften his features as the seconds passed by with him staring, and Izumi noticed.

Why, the heat of his gaze was intense. It was nearly impossible to ignore.

"You can take a picture if you want to stare." She half-laughed, half-scoffed. Her eyes stayed transfixed on the city below them despite the statement and Tasuku thought it easy to lie that he absolutely was not staring.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He replied and crossed his arms over his chest. He averted the direction of his gaze towards the city just to prove he wasn't looking at her and took in a sniff of the cool air, blatantly ignoring the chuckle that left Izumi's mouth.

"Aw. I didn't say I didn't like it." She smiled, reaching out for Tasuku's sleeve so that she could pull him closer. "But I'm going to have to charge you if you keep looking."

Tasuku sighed.

It was times like these where Izumi threw away her charm without a care.

"I'm not paying you money." He scoffed, gently prying away his arm from her clingy fingers.

"Look at you, making assumptions." Izumi teased. She pulled the sleeves to Tasuku's zip up over her hands to warm her skin and reached for him again, fingers tapping against his hand to get him to look at her once more.

She held onto his pinky to coax his gaze away from the city and she pulled, expression softening to something sweet when his reluctant violet eyes shifted to her face.

He took one step toward her, albeit hesitant, and gave Izumi his signature frown, skin tingling where she touched him.

"I'll charge you one kiss for each minute you stare." She said playfully, but the warmth to her tone told Tasuku that there was a small part of her that was serious.

The man froze.

Uh. Um.

Tasuku shook his head with a bewildered laugh, but didn't pull his hand away from her warming touch, eyebrows pinched together to show the confusion he was feeling.

"No. No, no. You're—you're still drunk, Izumi." Tasuku stumbled over his words clumsily, breath coming out in white puffs as the biting breeze stabbed his lungs and pinched his nose. His ears were heating up like the fireplace back at the dorm as the director gazed up at him with her unchanging smile. It made his heart squeeze.

"If I was drunk in the first place I would have thrown you to the ground back at the dorm." Izumi rolled her eyes. She brushed her thumb over the back of his hand after a moment then released her grip on him, eyes fond.

"It was a joke though. So quit staring at me like I'm crazy." She huffed playfully, pushing the looming Tasuku away by his chest, the warmth he was emanating from being so close making her uncomfortably bashful.

Her cheeks were growing warm and pink, and Tasuku was sure it was because of the biting winter cold, but there was a small part of him that hoped it was because she was feeling embarrassed. He could still feel the press of her hand on his chest even though she wasn't touching him anymore and his knees grew weak, heart racing like a stampede of horses were rattling at his ribcage.

Her little nose was pink due to the cold and her lips were a soft rose, brown eyes shining like tempered chocolate as she gazed at him through fluttering lashes.

Izumi shifted under his prodding gaze.

"....You're still staring." She said awkwardly.

"I thought you liked it." He smiled.

A smile so charming that it had all the air in Izumi's lungs rushing out as his sharp eyes peered down at her.

And— well, yeah. She did say that, but didn't he feel embarrassed at all? He was openly staring at her this time around and didn't even deny it the second time she accused him, smiling as she did so.

She pressed herself firmly against the seat of Tasuku's bike and frowned, keen on putting some space between them.

He was just playing with her, right? He liked to do that sometimes.

The wind blew again and brushed her hair back behind her shoulders, cooling her hot skin. There was steam coming out of her ears as the silence between them grew and for some reason she was unable to make eye contact with Tasuku.

"I'm not counting the minutes anymore." Izumi huffed.

Tasuku sighed.

"I wonder about you sometimes." He mused, stepping forward to cage Izumi between him and his bike, watching as she straightened against the seat and pushed her hands against his chest to maintain some distance.

"I—I don't care. You're being weird." She complained. The heat coming off of Tasuku was nearly unbearable as he trapped her, his hands planted on either side of her against the vehicle they were leaning on.

Tasuku took a deep breath in and chuckled. It wasn't often he got to see such a vulnerable expression on her face, and he was glad he was able to have the same effect on her that she had on him.

"Did Cupid stab you or something? Tasuku—" Her breath was cut short as she quickly brought her hands up to create a barrier between their faces, warm palms covering Tasuku's mouth to prevent him from trying anything funny.

"You didn't even want to kiss me earlier." She hissed, half-annoyed. Not that she was scared that he would or anything, but she'd rather take a dive to Hell than let Tasuku change his mind without a fight. His glimmering violet eyes looked at her with mirth dancing behind his irises and she resisted the urge to bare her teeth in defiance.

"The more I look, the more I notice how adorable you are. Don't think you're escaping me before I get my kiss." Tasuku spoke, saccharine sweet.

His lips brushed over the soft skin of Izumi's palms as he talked and his words would have taken the director's breath away had she not realised that Tasuku was reciting his lines from this one romance play he featured in a few months ago.

"Dude. Obvious actor voice." She frowned.

Tasuku blinked, unimpressed.

"You know I'm not a romantic." He grouched, teeth nipping at the soft skin of Izumi's palm to punish her for being so mean.

"Yeah. Which means it's a little gross when you try to be." She frowned, removing a hand from her barrier to curl around the base of Tasuku's neck. His position wasn't ideal considering their heights, and so she decided to carefully massage her fingers into the straining muscle.

"I would have preferred it happening without you meaning to." Izumi said, honest. Tasuku relaxed beneath her warm touch and huffed out a sigh from his nose, her fingertips digging in just the right spots.

"Noted." He murmured into her hand. His eyes fell shut at the lazy circle of her fingers and didn't even notice when her hand left his face, too busy focusing on the way her cold fingers slowly warmed against his skin.

Izumi found that Tasuku was much cuter when his mouth was closed and it looked like he was getting the massage of his life, making the director laugh under her breath. His eyebrows twitched, and Izumi could feel the rumble of his chest as he hummed with contentment.

There was a moment of silence between them as the wind whistled in their ears, the growling of the cars in the city faint. The sound of the vehicles revving to life made Tasuku's skin tremble with excitement that he subdued with a heavy breath, and Izumi stared at his sharp visage with an intrigued smile.

She dragged a hand through his hair while the other came up to frame his jaw, fingers coaxing his face closer to hers.

Tasuku could feel her cool breath brush against his lips and he froze again, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he struggled between wanting to open his eyes and refusing to meet Izumi's gaze.

Izumi paused but kept him close, her thumb gently pressing into his jaw. "Are you okay?"

Her question was nearly inaudible, but loud enough for Tasuku to hear over the wind that soothed his burning ears. His hands shook against the seat of his bike as he clenched his fingers, and he inhaled.

"Yeah."

It was strangled, the way he responded to her, breath stuck in his throat as his senses were filled with Izumi, Izumi, Izumi. The flowery scent of her body wash stuck to her skin similar to how cigarettes stained leather jackets and Tasuku was shaken. The warmth of her hands and the soft skin that pressed into his body made his head dizzy and he so desperately wanted to hold her tight and press his face to her neck.

Tasuku could hear the smile in her mockingly dubious hum and he bit the inside of his lip when her nails scratched along his scalp.

"Tell me what you want." She said. It was more of a request than a demand, but the fingers in Tasuku's hair curled and tugged, urging a response from him.

It was like her attitude did a complete one-eighty and Tasuku was the victim she held in her delicate hands. He had nowhere else to go other than let himself be trapped in her embrace and his arms trembled anxiously, aching to wind themselves around her waist and feel their mouths press together.

He longed for this moment to come and here it was; his ears were burning terribly hot at the fact. Tasuku opened his eyes then to meet Izumi's gaze with his own, and it was like all the air in his lungs was sucked out when he noticed just how close they were.

With their noses barely touching, Tasuku could see Izumi's eyes sparkle with delight, pupils shaking as she searched for the emotions that crashed like waves behind his violet irises. Her lips the colour of a pink rose smiled at him and she lightly scratched his jaw with her nails.

Tasuku took in a deep breath and let his eyelids flutter shut once more, brushing his nose against Izumi's like an affectionate cat. "I want my kiss."

She giggled. "Yeah?"

With a playful scoff, Tasuku tilted his chin forward, just barely brushing their lips together. "Yeah..." He murmured and raised a tentative hand to trail along Izumi's waist, eyes peeking down at her through his lashes.

"I want i—...mmh." He was barely able to finish his sentence, plush lips finding his in a searing kiss that left him groaning against Izumi's mouth. His chest rumbled in a way that told her he was pleased with the situation they were in, and the sound made her lips tingle.

Izumi's palm cradled Tasuku's jaw with care as she pulled him down the same time that she went on her toes, mouth damp and warm while their breaths mixed and became one. To ease the strain in her legs, Tasuku curled a strong arm around Izumi's waist and pulled her tight to his chest, teeth gently catching her lower lip when her fingers down to his biceps and his free hand found the back of her neck.

The heat of her body made Tasuku light-headed, the way she fit against him was everything he imagined and more. Her waist was soft beneath the muscle of his arm and the way her hands explored his arms and neck made him want to sink his fingers into her soft flesh and mark her with his nails and teeth.

With each part of their lips was a desperate gasp for air before they reunited in the middle for another kiss. The subtle scent of Tasuku's cologne nearly sent Izumi into her overdrive as his arm dug into her waist and the shaky moan that left her mouth was swallowed up by the man himself.

"Tasuku..." She whispered shakily, lips abused with each suckle and bite he gave her. The actor gave a low rumble in response, but didn't cease, too high on the feeling of her swollen mouth desperately trying to catch up with the movement of his needy lips.

The evening's cold air was no match for the searing heat the two of them were sharing, Tasuku's fingers sliding through Izumi's hair to comb away the tangles while his burning palm burrowed itself under the layers of clothes she was wearing. She shivered against him as the rough pads of his fingers scratched at her waist and she sighed, hands moving to frame either side of his jaw.

"Mmh... Takato." She murmured again, lips slotting messily with his own as his tongue made a playful appearance. Their breathing was heavy, clouds puffing from the corners of their mouths as Tasuku lost himself in the feeling of her body squirming beneath his ministrations.

"I've wanted this for so long..." He sighed breathlessly, blunt nails scratching up Izumi's ribcage in such a devilish way that left her twitching and gasping. "I don't want to stop."

"First, breathe." Izumi sighed back, coaxing his jaw to loosen by massaging her thumbs into the hinges. She did her best to calm the excited thrum of his pulse by doing this and tipped her chin up to brush their noses together.

With their lips parted for each other, Izumi's tongue met Tasuku's for a brief moment and just the smallest touch brought Tasuku back to his mindless haze.

"Fuck. I'm going crazy." He groaned as if he was in pain and pulled Izumi flush against him, the soft growl of his breathing making the director shake as he licked into her mouth like he was eating his favourite ice cream. He traced every crevice of her mouth with purpose, memorizing how she felt around his tongue as he laved at her canines then her tongue, lapping at the lingering taste of the beer she drank hours ago.

God, it felt like he could do this forever, but he knew that he'd have to stop eventually. And if there was a sign that told him so, it was probably the way Izumi was now whimpering and shaking in his arms, pretty, brown eyes glistening with vulnerable tears as she pawed at his shoulders and neck.

He pulled away slowly, their tongues connected by a thin string of saliva that broke when Tasuku gave her a final kiss. This time it was chaste and the man revelled in the way Izumi melted into his chest and mewled like a sweet little cat.

"You okay?" He asked, gentle as he set Izumi back on her feet and let her lean against his bike once more. He still held her in his embrace as she nodded, and with a light brush of his thumb wiped away their mixed spit from her reddened lips.

"Yes... You monster." She murmured hazily, legs weak as Tasuku's hips pinned her to his bike to keep her upright.

The man chuckled at the weak jab and affectionately kissed her cheek and forehead, still cradling the back of her head while Izumi threw her arms around his torso in a loose hold.

"Did you feel good?" He asked again, smiling when her eyes closed with a nod as he massaged her scalp. He was relieved to feel his pulse go back to its own steady thrum even though it felt like his heart was going to burst and he pressed his nose against her temple to placate the wave of emotion that ran through him.

His lips, warm and damp from the kisses before were now tickling Izumi's ear and with a teasing lilt to his voice, uttered his own honest thoughts.

"Well, you taste good."

Ugh. Izumi wanted to punch him.

With an embarrassed huff, the young woman turned her head to bump her nose into his jaw, still feeling weak even as he pampered her with chaste kisses to her face and his knuckles caressing her cheek.

"There's no turning back from this now." She said after a few moments of him tracing each curve of her face with his fingertip. She opened her eyes to gaze at him through her damp lashes and he paused with admiring the face he'd always longed to hold. "I can't pretend this never happened."

Her wavering voice made Tasuku smile; slightly charmed by the way she thought this was only a one-time thing. She really didn't understand just how much she affected him.

"Wasn't planning on doing that. I want to do this forever." He said, honest. His fingers combed through her hair for the umpteenth time this night and sent Izumi a charming smile.

"I want to kiss you every morning and every night. I want to greet you with a kiss every time you come home and I want to kiss you in bed." Tasuku whispered into her ear, chuckling as she shied away from his ticklish breath.

"Three years. Three years I've waited to find the opportunity to make you mine and here it is."

He hugged her close after his small confession and sucked in a deep breath when he felt her lips kiss his cheek.

"And all it took was a bike ride, huh?" She mused playfully, hiding the fact that her heart was rattling in her ribcage like a bird trying to find its way out. Izumi giggled when Tasuku sighed with a nod and she went on her toes to kiss him once more. Brief and chaste.

"I guess I'm yours now." She shrugged nonchalantly, smiling at Tasuku who stared down at her with hooded violet eyes.

"Then wanna have another go around the city as lovers this time?" The man whispered with a hint of excitement, already reaching out to grab their helmets from the handlebars of his bike.

"Hell yeah, man." Izumi grinned and held out her fist for Tasuku to bump.

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes in a fond manner at her term of endearment but indulged her anyways, knocking their knuckles together before getting Izumi ready for their second joyride of the night.

That's all it took. Tasuku mused as he mounted his bike and felt a familiar pair of arms curl around his waist.

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! fic #tasuizu #izumi tachibana #tasuku takato #tasuku x izumi #a3! scenarios #YOOOOOOO #finally this is done im gonna look for food to eat now

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scenics · 3 years

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any tips on how to color ???

Learning how to improve your coloring process takes time, and it takes making some mistakes. I have improved a lot over the past few years and only because I have made some questionable editing mistakes in the past (I just always make sure to never make them again). Under the cut are all the tips I could think of :)

Gifs can only be 256 colors. When you’re coloring a gif, you’re basically trying to reduce the amount of colors in a scene so your gif doesn’t lose quality when exporting. A gif can never actually represent the true colors of a scene.

I know this is obvious, but every single gif needs some sort of color modification / editing for it to look better.

My most important tip is to learn the very basics of color theory. It changes how you color dramatically and you can understand how color functions within a gif. Learn about the color wheel, primary/secondary/tertiary colors, complementary colors, and cool/warm colors. Afterwards, I also suggest looking up basic paint mixing videos where someone shows you how colors are mixed together or made darker/lighter (even better if you’ve had personal experience with mixing paint). Personally, I approach coloring gifs like I would my paint canvas in real life—when I color a scene I’m essentially “painting” over it with the adjustment tools in photoshop.

And building on the previous concepts of color theory, do not attempt to turn the original scene from red to green, blue to orange, yellow to purple, etc. It looks horrible because those are complementary colors; they are the absolute opposite of each other and mixing them makes a very muddy brown color. Instead, warm colors can easily be turned into other warm colors, and same goes for cool colors.

Reducing contrasting / clashing colors in gifs can improve the color of your gif drastically when exporting.

In gifs, red, blue, and green are the worst colors to edit because they’re the most likely to break up within a gif. These colors also break down the fastest as a gif ages.

I don’t know who said this to kpop gifmakers years ago, but please don’t be afraid to use the curves, exposure, brightness/contrast, and levels adjustment layers. Using those layers can actually help you improve the quality of your gifs drastically and make your gifs actually pop out on the dash. If you’re afraid of whitewashing someone, that can always be fixed later on by learning to adjust those layers and various others.

For kpop editing specifically, please know that Asians are not straight up canary yellow, bright orange, or tomato red. Asians do not have the same universal skin tone/color—Asia is comprised of thousands of ethnic groups which means we also have tons of variations in skin tone. Basically, Asians aren’t yellow. All the members of a single idol group do not have the same complexion, and much less to say the whole Korean music industry. In terms of color mixing for editing, Asians are a mixture of yellow, red, orange, white, and a very minimal amount of a cool color depending on undertone.

I highly suggest learning about how lighting works in a gif. Always question where the light in a gif is coming from—is it from the side, the front, the back, the top? I often see editors try to reduce contrast completely or make someone completely yellow/orange/red/brown in an effort to reduce whiteness/lightness on one side of the face. Differences in lighting are completely natural and one side of the face being lighter than other is just how lighting works.

Personally, I always color to enhance a gif. I’m always trying to reduce the gray layer/cast on scenes that occurs from compression (but sometimes that’s also unavoidable because of the grain or quality). I try not to over-edit most of the time but that’s also personal preference and everyone has a distinctive style. When I make a gif, I want it to age well although that may seem impossible.

Making the blacks blacker and whites whiter increases contrast in a gif. It makes your gifs pop and stand out.

Be careful with the use of vibrance/saturation/hue. Those can easily reduce the quality of your gif. The most important layers for coloring gifs (in general) are selective color, levels, and color balance.

The higher quality a file particularly is, the easier it is to manipulate colors for editing. Those gifs are less likely to break up and can withstand more coloring than the average gif. Basically, the more layers you add to a gif, the heavier it’ll be to export—so a reduction in quality. I find that gifs with tons of layers end up looking “sticky.”

In my opinion, the best editors on here are those who always color from scratch. They’re more flexible in how they color and actually know how to color a wider variety of content no matter what. PSDs are very nice and easy to use once you’ve developed them, but you also get stuck in a rhythm and forget how to color from the very beginning. An editor can become inflexible with the use of the same PSD.

I highly suggest checking your gifs on mobile. Gifs in general look very similar on desktop, but on mobile it’s a completely different story. Load your gifs into Tumblr’s photo uploader then publish them on a separate sideblog. Then, with your brightness turned up all the way, look at your gif on mobile and zoom into it. You’ll be able to see how the gif has been compressed, how the coloring has changed, if there’s any “breakage” in the gif. Then you can slowly modify your editing process to also look good on mobile. For me, my editing has improved a lot since I started making my gifs primarily for mobile—how gifs look on desktop do not really matter to me anymore.

Exporting gifs: I suggest checking what diffusion vs pattern looks like on mobile. Pattern has some little difference with diffusion in the desktop browser (sometimes you have to look closely to tell the difference on desktop), but on mobile there’s a huge difference. Gifs exported in pattern in general look very old and worn on mobile, especially with yellow/orange hues. Pattern on mobile can make a 2160p Blu-ray remux file look like it was originally a 1080p 2 GB compressed file—it essentially adds a worn surface to a gif that makes it look like it was made in 2017 not 2021 (completely refutes the need to download a HQ file in the first place).

Saving in pattern: If you’re giffing from a Vapoursynth processed file, please do not save the gif in pattern. Vapoursynth makes gifs very smooth and diffusion works best with smooth, grainless gifs. The pattern export sits on top of a Vapoursynth gif like a dirty mosquito net. In general, pattern is best when you have two dominant complementary colors in a gif that are directly clashing with each other in movement OR gradient scenes with lots of shifts in hue and movement. Pattern can help hide the breakage of color within those gifs due to the excess movement of color. Also, I think pattern works best with animation, especially figured with black outlines or scenes with tons of color (those look least worn on mobile).

#asks

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villainelle · 5 years

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HOW I COLOR DARK SCENES — A TUTORIAL

AKA how I get from this:

to this:

Before you start this tutorial, here is some things you already have to know or be able to do:

Basic knowledge of how to make gifs including where to get footage, what quality to use, how to screencap or import videos into frames, how to use Timeline and how to sharpen gifs.

Basic knowledge of how to use Photoshop layers and what they do including: Curves, Selective Color, and how to set opacity of layers.

Note: If you are unfamiliar with my technique, here is a link to a different tutorial by @thepunisher, who introduced me to this technique ages ago! Have a read through, if you find my own explanations confusing!

The rest of this tutorial will be put under cut as it is extremely long because I take the time to explain what each layer does and why I chose to do it.

This colouring tutorial will only use Curves layers (as this is the only layer I use to brighten or darken or add contrast to gifs), and Selective Layers for colouring. Dark scenes don’t do well with being saturated or vibrant because the overall darkness and contrast will make gifs look overly saturated. In my opinion, with dark gifs or gifs overly yellow/green/red/blue etc, it’s best to cancel out the colouring and get the cleanest gif by not making it overly vibrant.

Explanation: My first layer will be a Curves layer to brighten the gif and add white values! By white value, I mean the area on the gif which will have a lightness value of white — meaning it will be completely white. What I will essentially be doing is brightening an area of the gif enough that, if there weren’t any already present, there would now be areas of pure white.

Action: I do this by going into Layer > Adjustment Layer > Curves. Once I have my curves layer, I select the lightest pipette tool:

Once I have this selected, I click on the area of the gif which I want to be completely white. In this case, I have clicked on a section of the sky which is brightest. Because the area I clicked over was a dim yellow in the original gif, the curves layer will not only brighten to make the value white, but also counteract the yellow tones in it.

The result is this:

Action: Next, I will do the exact same thing but selecting the black values pipette, on the Curves layer and I will click over an area I want to be made completely black:

Explanation: Wherever I click with this pipette, will be made black and will also cancel out any of the colours in the shadows I click over. So if the area I clicked over was predominantly a dark blue, those blues would be cancelled out and the gif would be made more red.

My next move will be to brighten the gif one more. If you look at this gif (after our two Curves layers), you will notice that the sky/clouds still look predominantly greenish:

So I add another Curves layer:

The result is this, with the gif being much less green/blue and more red.

Action: My next Curves layer is a simple brightening layer.

Explanation: I always pull from the top corner of the Curves layer, as opposed to in the middle. The reason being is that if you imagine all the values as going down in a straight line, like the Curves line, it means that all the values stay proportionate to each other. The white values will be brightened the most, the deep values will hardly be brightened at all. What this means is that the contrast of your gif will remain the same, even as it is being brightened. If your Curves line instead looked like an arch, pulled up from the middle, your gif would begin to look more flat, as the white values remain untouched, and the mid values are brightened. While this is not a bad look necessarily, or a wrong way to color, it’s not the look I am going for today.

If you look at the gif right now, it’s overall pretty cool-toned. For example, if you look at the clouds you can see they have an overall pretty blue tinge to them:

Even though I hate having yellows and reds in my gifs I want to get rid of the overall coolness of the background. What I am going to do is warm up the background using the Curves layer, to make the clouds more of a true neutral grey, and then cancel out overly red and yellow tones using Selective Layers.

Action: I’m going to select the middle pipette on the Curves layer, which will affect most of the tonal values in the gif, and click around on the gif until I get the effect I want:

Once I’ve done this, the background will be more warm, but unfortunately so will the already warm tones. So while our background may look simply less blue and more red, the red tones in Loki and Thor’s face will be overly red and I will have to cancel them out.

To cancel this out, I will add two Selective Layers. One for the yellow tones, and one for reds. First I will do my Yellow tones:

And then my Reds:

I set both of the layers’ opacity to “Color”.

I brighten the gif once more:

And my result is this so far:

My last adjustment is another Curves layer, this time to add some contrast and darkness.

Explanation: I drag down only a little bit, and from in the lower mid section of the curve for two reasons. If I dragged from the highest point of the line, I would darken the white values, making them grey instead and flattening out the gif. If I drag from the lowest corner, I will in turn add more black values, which while an easy way to darken a gif, can add more noise. Instead I want to overall darken the middle values of the gif — this will darken the gif without upping the contrast, and instead give the gif a nice gradient of values, meaning the noise won’t be as bad.

And your end result is this:

And that’s how you get from this to this:

I hope this colouring tutorial was helpful for you, and if you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!

#completeresources #usermeri #uservisnja #mine: tutorials #mine: resources #long post for ts #*mine

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aniamajewska · 3 years

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Colour theory - workshop

Does colour influence mood? Do colours change the way you feel about something?

Colours influence the mood definitely. Dark colours, black, grey, navy, green or purple are cool and they are described as calm but they can call on mind fillings of sadness or indifference. Colours change the way I feel about something, for example blue and red. Blue reminds me of something cold and red with hot. Cool tone colours evoke different emotions than warm.

What do the theorists say about colour?

Warm colours include red, orange, and yellow, and variations of those three colours. These are the colours of fire, of fall leaves, and of sunsets and sunrises, and are generally energising, passionate, and positive.

Red is a very hot colour. It’s associated with fire, violence, and warfare. It’s also associated with love and passion.Red can be associated with anger, but is also associated with importance (think of the red carpet at awards shows and celebrity events). Red also indicates danger (the reason stop lights and signs are red, and that warning labels are often red).

Orange is a very vibrant and energetic colour. In its muted forms it can be associated with the earth and with autumn. Because of its association with the changing seasons, orange can represent change and movement in general. Orange is also strongly associated with creativity. Orange is associated with the fruit of the same name, it can be associated with health and vitality, often considered more friendly and inviting.

Yellow is often considered the brightest and most energising of the warm colours. It’s associated with happiness and sunshine. Yellow is also associated with hope, as can be seen in some countries when yellow ribbons are displayed by families who have loved ones at war. Yellow is also associated with danger, though not as strongly as red.

Light yellows also give a more calm feeling of happiness than bright yellows. Dark yellows and gold-hued yellows can sometimes look antique and be used in designs where a sense of permanence is desired.

Cool colours include green, blue, and purple, are often more subdued than warm colours. They are the colours of night, of water, of nature, and are usually calming, relaxing, and somewhat reserved.

Green is a very down-to-earth colour. It can represent new beginnings and growth. It also signifies renewal and abundance. Alternatively, green can also represent envy or jealousy, and a lack of experience.In design, green can have a balancing and harmonising effect, and is very stable.

Blue is often associated with sadness in the English language. Blue is also used extensively to represent calmness and responsibility. Light blues can be refreshing and friendly. Dark blues are more strong and reliable. Blue is also associated with peace and has spiritual and religious connotations in many cultures and traditions.

Purple is a combination of red and blue and takes on some attributes of both. It’s associated with creativity and imagination, too. In design, dark purples can give a sense wealth and luxury. Light purples are softer and are associated with spring and romance.

Black is the strongest of the neutral colours. On the positive side, it’s commonly associated with power, elegance, and formality. On the negative side, it can be associated with evil, death, and mystery. Black is the traditional colour of mourning in many Western countries.

White is at the opposite end of the spectrum from black, but like black, it can work well with just about any other colour. White is often associated with purity, cleanliness, and virtue.

Gray is a neutral colour, generally considered on the cool end of the colour spectrum. It can sometimes be considered moody or depressing.

Brown is associated with the earth, wood, and stone. It’s a completely natural colour and a warm neutral. Brown can be associated with dependability and reliability, with steadfastness, and with earthiness. It can also be considered dull.

youtube

What can you use in Photoshop to change the colour of an image, globally and locally?

We can adjust the hue, vibrance and saturation, white balance, add more contrast, change colour balance and adjust curves in colour bland mode. We can use colour filters. Using these tools we can change colours globally. To change colours locally we will have to use adjustment layers. Below you can see tutorial video how to change colours in Photoshop and step by step details written for reference.

https://photoshopcafe.com/6-ways-change-colors-photoshop-photoshop-color-replacement-tutorial/

Take one of your images and try processing it in 3 different ways in relation to colour. Do the images feel different? If so... in what way?

This is an original image. I have change colour in the way as shown in the video tutorial above.

I started with change the colour of the jacket - yellow colour in hue/saturation adjusting layer.

Next colour change method was a painting in a new colour using colour range selection tool. It’s not my favourite one.

Another way to change the colour that I tried was adding colour overlays and colour grading that change the colour globally.

Last method I tried and my favourite one was partial colour change using quick selection tool and adjust hue/saturation, then in a new layer using gradient tool.

In the end I used eraser tool to go back to original colour of the scarf, as I wanted only jacket to have blending colours.

I set edited images together and I can see a massive difference in between them. Colour changing make images more pleasant to view when colours are vibrant. Saturation and contrast create a greater depth and make images look more dimensional. The change in colour creates different mood and has an impact on emotional perception of an image. Even if there is only a change in colour of a jacket. Yellow is nice natural colour that is associated with happiness, sunshine and hope. Red is not an affordable colour like yellow, it is very strong, it gives the impression that a person who wears red can be perceived as someone full of passion or anger. I will make another edit on this image and change the yellow colour to purple, because this one doesn’t look right and in real life you would never see me wearing like that ;)

#technical #colour #postproduction

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oneeyeddestroyer · 5 years

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Sharing Skin: The Home Game (Part 1)

Atmospheric and sensual, Sharing Skin has produced a handful of you mentioning just how much it makes you want a good bath. The goal of the prose was to create a unmistakable relaxing vibe with just the right touch of decadence. The bulk of my planning period for this fic was crafting the delicate details of each bath, piece by piece. Every aroma, every color, every bubble, every bath bomb, every drink, all the way down to the flower petals and the snacks, was hand picked to build an ambiance (as Eliot would say) and indicate the overall mood of the characters in that scene.

As a little treat, I wanted to curate some of my favorite bath essentials*. Recipes, products, mood lighting and wine pairings for your nerves!

We’re going to take it bath by bath to help you guys recreate the magic of each chapter. That was super fucking cheesy, but I bet you lived for it anyway. I think El and Margo are really starting to rub off on me. 😉

Bath One: What We Deserve

Upon entering the room, Margo’s fingers twist intricately and the room fills with cool, flickering light. She’s always loved the way Eliot’s skin looks in blue.

The first bath is pretty simple: brisk, refreshing air, cool toned lighting, sparkling wine, bubbles and a quick smoke.

While I can’t magically alter the tone and color of the lighting, I do have this pretty fucking best oil diffuser with color changing lights. There are a few really neat ones on the market, and I’ll link to a couple I have personal experience with. Easy to use, you add a few drops of essential oil into a small amount of water in the basin, and let it do all the work of diffusing a fine, gorgeously scented mist of your own creation. The lights change color in a slow, fluid movement, and some can be made to maintain a single color light with soft pulsing effects. Mine is Bluetooth compatible so I can play all the Enya I want as I take a soak.

Recommendations:

1. Colorful Essential Oil Diffuser

2. Ultrasonic Bluetooth Oil Diffuser

If you’re a drinker, sparkling wine is easily the best part of any bath. A nice, chilled wine is both refreshing and lovely balance to the heat of the bath—it doesn’t hurt to have a glass of ice water in the side as well. I’m not a huge fan of proper champagne, so I’ll share some of my favorite sparkling wines instead.

Something Dry

La Marca Prosecco is affordable a delicious. Not too dry, but certainly not too sweet either. Super lovely for people who are a little shy on dry whites.

Something Sweet

Bartenura wines are so fuckin delightful. If you like sweet wines, these are definitely for you if you haven’t already tried them. Fruity and fun, and also Kosher if I am not mistaken

A Rosé

Grapefruit isn’t everyone’s jam, but if you’re down to try something new, this shit is fucking delicious. A lot of wines get described and crisp and refreshing, and this is the first time I fully experienced what that could mean for a wine. It’s definitely worth the shot even if you’re not super keen on grapefruit. Eliot and Margo would definitely want you to try new things. 😉

For the bubble bath, instead of recommending a product, I wanted to share an easy recipe to make your own. Hand making bath and skin care products is a low key hobby of mine and it’s a ton of fun.

Simple Bubble Bath Recipe:

½ cup warm distilled water

½ cup liquid castile soap, scent of your choice (find unscented castile soap here)

¼ cup vegetable glycerin (find organic glycerin here)

a few drops of essential oils of your choosing

Combine all the ingredients and stir them until they're even and smooth. Over time they may separate, so just give them a quick shake in the container until they mix back together, just don’t shake too hard or it will froth up before it’s time for your bath. There is a premature ejacualation joke in there somewhere, I’m sure of it. 😂

I’m not a smoker, and I certainly do not smoke indoors, but I have had a casual smoke after a bath before, it really hits the spot if that is a thing you do. Some hookah, a vanilla clove, or handmade cigarettes of herbs like lavender and damiana can be truly lovely if you’re so inclined. Or, you know, you could just smoke weed like a normal 20-something, your call.

Bath Two: Intertwined

A quick dance of her fingers around each other causes the candles lining the tub to ignite, one by one. The warm flickering illuminates the room with a soft glow.

For best results, wait for a rainy day and bring a friend.

A minimalist bath after a rough night. Budget whiskey, candles, and maybe a good smoke at the end of it all before calling it a night.

Floating candles are a great way to create a simple but relaxing vibe. You can go through the delicate balancing act of lighting real candles and keeping them afloat without putting them out, or you can use these nifty, waterproof LED floating candles and save yourself the trouble. Maximum vibe for minimum effort is Eliot and Margo as fuck.

Whisky recommendations (Eliot takes his in a flask here, but feel free to have yours in a glass, maybe with a spot of water or over cold stones):

Bushmills 10 Year

Jameson Black Barrel

Knob Creek Straight Bourbon Whiskey

Bath Three: Winner’s Circle

Margo nods her approval as she settles against Eliot’s chest. With the bubble situation under control, the soft, rosy gold water is visible where their bodies emerge from bubbles. As their movements still, the water shimmers with brilliance that could make the night sky jealous as the light catches individual flecks of glitter.

Confession: I spent way too much time on the Lush website trying to dream up this bath. I suffered through hours of product reviews and ASMR videos of “Lush Cocktails” before I finally settled on the right mix of products. I will never look at a strainer the same way again.

If you’d like to soak in your own gloriousness a la Bath 3, you’ll need to pick up Sunnyside (a lovely citrusy bubble bar with glitter for DAYS) and The Comforter (the classic black currant bubble bar that many considers Lush staple, and a personal favorite) from your local Lush or order them from the website. Combined, they make the prettiest rose gold. It’s everything, I promise! The bubble bars are designed to be broken apart and used in small chunks, because they create a serious amount of bubbles. I’d cut them in pieces and use a small chunk of each, or you can go buckwild like El and Margo, but expect some serious overflow if you do it right.

Oh! And bonus points for setting up a trophy to gaze at as you soak.

If you liked one of the wines from the first bath, you can easily pair it with this bath too, or you can use one of these. I will alway have more wine to recommend.

Something Dry

Ruffino Prosecco is lovely, dry and fruity. It can be a touch pricier than La Marca, but not by much. Totally affordable—as most proseccos are— and tasty. Even if you don’t really like dry whites, it’s hard to go wrong with a prosecco.

Something Sweet

Martini & Rossi Asti. Affordable, sweet, Italian sparkling wine. It’s self explanatory and delicious.

A Rosé

I told you guys I live for Bartenura wines. The Malvasia di casorzo is seriously one of my favorite wines. Sweet and fruity, it’s just really fucking good. I won’t try to sell you with somm lingo and flavor notes like “wilted vines” and “fresh tennis balls”, just drink the wine. If you like sweet, it’s awesome.

Bath Four: Delusions, Major and Minor

Notes of ripe, juicy peach, and hint of honey fill the air. The bath water is a bright, creamy orange with a soft light glowing from beneath the surface. Their subtle movements create a shimmer as they stir the water.

Margo lightly strokes the water and hums as she considers her next choice. She brings her hands together, rolling her wrists over each other before stitching her fingers together in an intricate shape. A deliberate tap of the surface of the bath with her middle finger causes the water to turn pink beneath her touch. The color ripples out from the point of contact in concentric waves, quickly changing the entire bath. With the same finger, she traces a small sigil on the back of Eliot’s left hand to tie him into the spell. Eliot makes three quick taps along the surface of the bath. Orange, yellow and red diffuse into the water, the edges of Eliot’s colors are much more feathered and frayed than Margo’s. The colors swirls together, blending into beautiful gradients when they come into contact with each other and the pink hues from Margo. The result is somewhere between the light of a setting sun and an abstract painting.

I have a couple of ways you could recreate this bath if you’re so inclined. If you want to go for the bright, peachy vibe complete with Bellini, a peach scented bath bomb while you rub yourself down with scrubee will give you that mix of ripe stone fruit and honey. (And don’t skimp on scrubee, that bad boy will leave your skin silky smooth and hydrated as fuck and the scent is incredible) The bath bombs I wanted to recommend seen to mostly be out of stock, but I hope a few come back for the summer months.

Peachy by Lush

Pretty as a Peach by Bath & Body Works

Honey Peach by Sabon

Basic Bellini recipe:

One part peach nectar

2 parts prosecco

If you want to get really fancy with it, you can purée a couple of peaches and mix one part of that with 2 parts prosecco (or you can flip those proportions if you want a more fruit heavy cocktail), but if you want to get fancy without doing a ton of work, you can buy a peach nectar instead. Just make sure it’s the good stuff, actual peach nectar, and not some sugary “fruit juice blend” where none of the fruits involved are actual peaches. I’ve used both Goya and Jumex. I always garnish with a peach wedge or wheel.

If you don’t want to go with the peach bath, you could do a multicolored bath instead. Hot Topic has a cute dragon egg bathbomb that changes a colors as it fizzes and finally settles into a nearly black final bath color. It’s super fucking huge and so much fun.

Continued in Part 2

*I am not paid or sponsored in any way shape or form, nor am I associated with any of the above brands, licenses, etc.. I’m just overly enthusiastic about a fanfiction I wrote and a slut for good bath vibes.

#the magicians #eliot waugh #margo hanson #lush cosmetics #wine #whiskey #bath #fanfiction

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allspark · 5 years

Text

Cheers, love! The time manipulating speedster frontwoman of Blizzard Entertainment’s Overwatch has arrived in the first wave of Hasbro’s new six inch line of action figures, and now she’s blinking into the Allspark Studio!

Overwatch Ultimates Tracer

To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell you the last time I played Overwatch. While I was really big into the game when it launched, I think I can comfortably say my time with it is over. However, I think it speaks volumes about Blizzard Entertainment’s skill with crafting fun, enjoyable characters that I still found myself extremely intrigued by the proposition of Hasbro starting a new line of six inch action figures based off of the game. Though Max Factory over in Japan has already put out a handful of similarly scaled Overwatch action figures as part of their Figma line, the pricey nature of those figures for a game I’m no longer super passionate about gave me pause.

While my tastes in non-converting action figures do typically skew more towards the Figmas and Figuarts of the world, I was still very much interested in seeing what Hasbro could do with the license. Despite my reservations based on past experiences with Marvel Legends and Star Wars Black Series, I’m very happy to report Tracer has been an extremely pleasant surprise for me!

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To give a small peak behind the curtain, I didn’t know I’d be writing a review of this figure when I purchased it. What this unfortunately means is that I didn’t know to save the packaging for photography. While I can’t illustrate this for you, I will assure you that the Overwatch Ultimates line has extremely striking packaging! A clean, white box with a matte finish features very bold strips of color on the sides, plus some very nice illustrations of the character on the front.

What’s a little less cool in the case of Tracer, however, is that once you open her up, there is a whole lot of empty space in that tray she comes packaged in. She’s part of the same single packed, $20 range of Ultimates figures that also include bulkier characters like Lucio and Reaper, who I presume fill out those trays a bit more, so it’s not necessarily her fault that she and her accessories are on the smaller side. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit shocked when I saw just how much empty space was in her box.

Speaking of accessories, with Tracer you get her two submachine gun pistols, effect parts that give the effect of shooting them, two alternate right hands, and the time bomb she uses for her in-game ultimate. That last one is a bit sneaky, as it comes attached to her back in-package rather than laid out in the tray, so be on the look out!

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The submachine guns are very nicely detailed for their small size, as is the time bomb for that matter. While they are easy enough to fit into Tracer’s default, gun-hold-y hands, the actual grip she has on them can feel just a bit loose. Not so loose that you can’t trust that she’ll be able to hold onto them if she’s posed on your shelf, but there’s a good chance they’ll slip out or at least turn sideways if you’re changing her poses while they’re in her hands. The effect parts are similarly reliably able to stay plugged in while Tracer holds a pose, but anything more than slight jostling is likely to knock them off. By looking inside them, it seems clear that there’s very much an intended top and bottom that the muzzle flashes are supposed to plug onto the guns, but it’s a bit difficult to tell what that way is and, in my experience, they feel the same whether they’re upside down or rightside up.

For her handswaps, Tracer has an open palmed waving hand and a little two finger salute hand, both of which are for her right hand. The hands all plug in nice and solidly and feature a wrist joint. It is kind of a shame that she doesn’t feature any alternate left hands and, as far as I can tell, I don’t believe her left hand is even removable. While the included two hands are nice, it’s a slight shame that she didn’t come with at least an open palmed left hand as well.

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When it comes to her detailing and paint work, Hasbro did a good job of picking out all of the most important notes of her character design, making sure they got the attention they needed. Her shoulders feature nice and clear tampographs of the British flag on the right and a flight patch from her piloting days on her left. Her eyes are very nice and crisply painted on beneath her (non-removable) clear yellow goggles as well as some amazingly cleanly applied pink paint on her lips. The timey-wimey, sci-fi glow of her chronal accelerator harness is picked out in an eye catching electric blue, though unfortunately only on her chest. The back part features no such blue paint, though it is still picked out in a nice, bright white and silver. Tracer’s tights feature an amazing yellow-to-orange gradient, along with another tampograph of her own name that she has written on her left thigh for some reason and grey mesh running down the sides her thigh and calf. The gradient really is something to see, though, and helps give the figure a premium feel.

Unfortunately, there are noticeable amount of smaller details, like the belts that run under her arms and fasteners/buckles that are molded but unpainted. Her unpainted gauntlets also seem a little under-detailed compared to the in-game model. A very slight blackwash or even just a bit of panel lining would’ve really helped them pop a little more, I feel. Some paint, like the aforementioned electric blue, is a bit messily applied on my copy, though it’s only really noticeable on close inspection. There is one very egregious paint flaw on my copy though, as underneath her time bomb there is a gigantic splotch of white paint on her brown jacket. While this is thankfully hidden just by virtue of being on her back and almost being completely covered up by the bomb, it’s still not an insignificant paint error.

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When it comes to articulation, I found Tracer to be better than expected, but still very limited in some ways. Chief among those limitations was, out of the box, my Tracer’s top right knee joint was completely stuck. Stuck in such a way that I feared trying to use force on it would cause it to break. Thankfully though, I was able to remedy this by sticking her in a plastic bag and then dipping her legs in hot water for a minute or two, which loosened her knee up good. With that fixed, Tracer’s legs are remarkably posable! She’s able to assume the kind of nimble poses you’d want her to be able to pull off. In addition to thigh swivels, her knees can bend just as far back as a human knee can without looking too freaky, and her legs can spread for almost full Van Damme level splits. While her legs can move forward decently high, she lacks pretty much any sort of backwards leg movement.

Unfortunately, as you move further up, Tracer’s articulation starts to get less impressive. While she does have an ab crunch and a balljointed upper body, her bulky gauntlets mean she has practically no elbows articulation beyond pointing down or sitting at a near 90 degree angle, though they can swivel right or left. Additionally, while her shoulders can move back and forth just fine, they have next to no outward or inward movement. While not nearly as limited as her arms, the high collar of her bomber jacket does slightly get in the way of her otherwise quite good head articulation.

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All in all, despite my not particularly high opinions of Hasbro’s previous 6″ scale offerings and some stumblings with her, I’ve ended up being rather taken by Tracer. Giving her a once over after taking her from the box, I wasn’t too sure, but as time went on (and bad knee joints were fixed) I found myself warming up to her more and more. Honestly I think she might be the best experience I’ve had with any of Hasbro’s six inch figures. From what I can tell, they’re really stepping up their game for Ultimates, and I’m excited to see what they can do with it from here. If you’re willing to perhaps risk some slightly spotty QC, I think you’ll really find a lot to love with Tracer.

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Overwatch Ultimates Tracer Gallery and Review! Cheers, love! The time manipulating speedster frontwoman of Blizzard Entertainment's Overwatch has arrived in the first wave of Hasbro's new six inch line of action figures, and now she's blinking into the Allspark Studio!

#Action Figures #Overwatch #Overwatch Ultimates #review #Reviews #toys #Tracer

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divine-draws · 6 years

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Anonymous said to greyvolpe: Ahhh do u have a tutorial on how u choose your colors??? Your skin / hair / cloth tones always look so good together and I need to know how....

soooo this got pretty long. i’m putting it under read more but i hope i made sense!!!

okay!! i’m going to be using my latest drawing as a ref for this whole thing so first off lets remove my overlays

SKIN- so i’d like to start off saying that for the most part i use a reference for my skin tones. some times i’ll tweak them a bit but all in all i’ll either use the same skin tone for a character ive drawn before from my files (though that all came from this next bit) or!! i’ll pull out a reference sheet with skin tones.

once my skin is selected though this is where the rest comes into play since i want to make sure all my colors look nice together. that being said lets continue with the skin but go into the blush..

when selecting a blush i always like to take my base skin tone, drag the little thing down and to the right and then bring it into a more red area. this way you end up with a darker redish color that still kind of looks similar to your base. from there i’ll adjust it as i like, multiply and change the opacity. freckles and lips follow this same general rule. for freckles i DONT make the tone more red and i pull the color from the blush instead of the base skin tone.

EYES- for eyes and teeth i NEVER use WHITE white. i always pull an off white color. it really just depends on what you’re going for. for this piece i went for a redish off white since deku is clearly crying. for other things like lance i’ll pull a blueish off white and so on.

HAIR- so this was also pulled from the ref i used from a friend BUT mind you i’m not going to pull certain colors. so unless my goal is to make it very.. well stand out then i’m going to go for darker tones and nothing extreme with colors. while deku, yes, has GREEN hair i’m going to pull a darker green that’ll look okay with everything else. really this can take some trial and error and i even added a gradient overlay to the final product on the hair.

CLOTHES- so there’s not much shown in this drawing but i’ll still explain. generally i like to pick colors that go with the feel. i wanted a dark background so i went with a white hoodie (though it IS off white) and i wanted a LOT of contrast so i made it as close to pure white as i could. with regular outfits i generally just like pastels. i’ll also pull greys. not typically PURE grey’s (just like i dont do pure whites) but some sort of tinted grey (red tinted greys are my fave)

MISC- so another rule of thumb is that i NEVER use pure black. i’ll do it for my line art but even that i change. it’s just.. it contrasts TOO much. if you WANT that contrast than use it!!! but i like my colors like.. blending i guess ??? anyway i always use a very dark grey that is tinted. - for lineart i like to use a clipping layer and generally after i’ve shaded i’ll pull the darkest color, make it a bit darker (pulling the color down and to the right again) and then recolor the lines like that. - for shading it depends. sometimes i shade w one color.. lately i havent. i used to just use this dark blue/purple, multiply the layer and then adjust the opacity.. now i use a like dark blue or a dark red depending on if the stuff im shading is cool or warm in its coloring. if it’s cool i use the dark red.. warm i use the dark blue.

OVERLAYS- okay overlays imo is what REALLY brings the whole piece together. it tints the colors and ties everything into one another. soo really your overlay depends on what you’re going for. just mess around with colors and so on. use gradients use multiple layers. go wild!!! i do though try to keep from making the overlay lighten the skin tone too much. this way you prevent any accidental white washing of your darker skin tones.

ref of the colors used. as you can see the background isnt BLACK and the hoodie and eyes/teeth arent even 100% white

unless you’re going for this try to avoid doing this. (lines are black, i pulled a random red for the blush and lips, the eyes and teeth are WHITE and the hair is a brighter green) things just dont look as good and together.

#tutorials #xander speaks #not art #art help #asks

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swyllh · 6 years

Text

[jihan] schedule

title: schedule

premise: jeonghan’s a time traveller. he’s tangled in joshua’s timeline.

pairing: jeonghan x joshua

wordcount: 3262

genre: scifi-ish, non-chronology in a chronological order

crossposted on: ao3

california, usa - 2002: joshua is seven, his tiny, crooked feet set free against coarse granite. he runs a jagged path down the road along his cul-de-sac, imagines he’s blazing a hot ashy trail beneath his feet, scrambling-

-chasing after the sky-blue light and smear of white, undiluted clouds, learning to read the varying tones of rooftops and brick walls-

-mapping the neighbourhood in his pride, flirting with restraint and his parents’ caution.

(the words don’t stick - he’s young, and growing and being.)

when he makes the turn around his street corner - it’s the end of his map, of the safe zone, because there’s a red stop sign sweltering under the summer sun, casting doubtful shadows on his toes.

will he turn? is it the right day to continue?

the road continues to steam and toil under his considering gaze. it’s a warm day, and now that he’s stopped to deliberate, the granite are slowly turning into hot coals under his squirming soles.

maybe, maybe, maybe - joshua tries to weigh the excitement of defying his parents’ orders against the sulky fear of staying in line.

as the road before him blurs into a nondescript pattern of concrete and bricks and oil-sheened cars, there’s suddenly another addition. a man, shrunk down by the distance, lands on his feet. he’s carrying something in his hands. it looks blue. maybe.

he looks confused, almost wounded by the way he’s hunching. but perhaps the exchange of light and shade is warping the sight.

joshua’s sure he’s never seen the man before - especially not one in a suit like he’s going to a wedding, or a funeral. the warning bells should start to sound, but this only livens the area to joshua; it must be his neighbourhood, too.

the fear of an unknown, uncharted territory shrinks down with the arrival of this stranger, whose strangeness cancels out the strangeness of the extended road itself.

the memory ends there, abrupt but not unreasonably. joshua learns to forget the encounter altogether, learns to file it under a childhood dream or nightmare. in those things, you never quite remember how they start or how they end. only a lingering sense of something lost, not quite captured or understood. a premonition; a promise.

california, usa - 2007: twelve year old joshua goes to church more frequently. he’s saving up for a new guitar, but mostly because the girl down the street got him a navy guitar pick for secret santa.

he’s considering between a navy secondhand guitar (because it would match) and a brand new brown one, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hyperaware of his aching neck.

in the end, he leaves the shop, too embarrassed to ask for assistance. half-ashamed, half-relieved, he tugs on his wilting polyester collar and delves into the silencing crowd.

the mall blurs into a nondescript makeshift kaleidoscope of neon and inconsideration; people are bumping into each other, overturning innocent hangers and yelling into phones.

the guitar pick, lying in his pocket, suddenly feels criminal.

as he weighs the literal weight of the pick in his clammy fingers against the thought of returning to the shop, he spots a black parka next to the coffee shop. the black parka has no distinct features, gives away nothing as he paces over to the next store, but a nagging feeling of deja vu snips at the back of joshua’s neck -

and then the black parka raises his hand, and vanishes.

it must be a mistake, it must be - the crowd convenes over where black parka once was, and carefully erases any doubt that there was ever a hooded figure in the midst of their colourful khakis and tank tops.

joshua runs out of the mall, feeling even more like an accomplice to a crime. his glasses fog up immediately, tensing up at the mere heat of summer.

athens, greece - 2009: the call strains, tugs ruthlessly against the chill of his ungloved hands, stutters its way past the conversion of telephone lines or satellite spies, past currencies and timezones.

someone laughs, sputters drunkenly in the customary comforts of a hotel lobby, and joshua tightens his grip on the phone.

the connection trips, dragging on wearily as though it’s making a fifteen hour route past changing skies and airport bureaucracies. somewhere in between the fourth ring and the sixth, he thinks he catches the coattails of fireworks - a muted drum struck once.

the phone gives up, breaking into unapologetic beeps.

the drunk man in the lobby behind him stirs, stops cracking peanuts with his blackened thumb. the sudden respite of peace tastes sour.

and then the drunk man is hollering, half-choked on his fifth beer, or undiscriminated peanut shells. joshua glances up, startled, and sees

black parka.

black parka is not in a black parka now. he’s in a black suit, hunched and sweating uncomfortably despite the efficient breeze outside. when black parka looks up and moves closer, joshua notices that he’s bleeding in the stomach. heavily.

there’s - there’s got to be a standard operating procedure for this, joshua thinks numbly, mind gasping out the numbers for the police from his school’s travel booklet.

“are you alright,” joshua asks, “you’re bleeding.”

the man looks right past him. “where are you from?”

“what?”

“can’t stay here,” the man mumbles, though it’s more to himself. with an effort, he smiles, but it comes off as pale, oily and unfortunate. “where are you from?”

“you’re bleeding,” joshua repeats.

“america, huh,” the man says, and joshua clamps a hand over his mouth.

“california,” joshua says. “but you need to go to a hospital-”

“california - ah! mister doctor,” the man grins, reaches out an unbloodied hand, and ruffles joshua’s hair.

the drunk man in the lobby is still hollering, albeit slurring his words a little more now, letting the last bits of alcoholic fervour wind him into a peaceful sleep.

black parka raises his hand, offers joshua a kind, apologetic smile, and snaps. joshua forgets to call home that night.

passing over the bering seas - 2013: cutting through air above air, above air. imagining the sky not as a crayola constant, but a space delivered from scientific states (solid, liquid, gas) is unnatural.

his seat feels like a dentist’s chair, far too unpredictable and vulnerable. but there are no drills here, no threats of necessary extractions or even a cavity throbbing in his jaw. only the sickened daze of having his ears blocked - his voice sounds too muffled even to himself, even as he feels it through the hum of his throat.

joshua gets up, paces to the end of the aisle, and stretches.

he peeks out one of the windows, and sees the sea. or at least, he doesn’t - not at first. it’s only when the plane steers leftward that the gradient of blue is thwarted by a mechanical white wing.

“hey,” someone whispers.

joshua jumps, and turns to see a boy much younger than him. “oh, hello.” the boy grins, eyes twinkling with mischief. “have i seen you before? you look familiar.”

(joshua’s heart stops. is this flirting? but the boy looks twelve. he’s heard this line countless times on sitcoms, but the setting is usually overtly heterosexual, caucasian, and adult.)

“um,” joshua tries to think, but nothing comes to mind. “i don’t think so, sorry.”

the boy frowns. “that’s too bad. what’s your name?”

“joshua.”

“i’m jeonghan, nice to meet you,” jeonghan says smoothly, offering a hand.

the roles seem reversed here, but joshua takes his hand.

“you’ve got big hands!” jeonghan exclaims.

(joshua wonders if maybe, for once, he’s being the corruptible one.)

“yeah, i like playing the guitar, but-” joshua stops himself.

jeonghan peers up at him curiously. “but?”

“um,” joshua falters, but jeonghan has a... thing about him that makes joshua continue, “i’ve left it behind in la.”

“oh,” jeonghan says, eyebrows furrowing. “well, i’m sure you’re an amazing player.”

joshua flushes; the compliment is so earnest. “yeah, well, i don’t think i’ll have time for that any time soon.”

“why not?”

“i’m going to be a doctor.”

jeonghan’s eyes widen dangerously. “a doctor! that’s so cool, mister doctor!”

joshua shakes his head and places his hands up. “no, i’m just studying to be one -”

“you’ll be a good doctor!” jeonghan chirps anyway. “or a guitar player!”

joshua laughs, and changes the topic. “are you here alone? where are your parents?”

jeonghan pauses for a moment, thinking hard. and then, glancing around, he flinches. he squints at a passenger’s screen, and joshua follows his gaze to see the flight route enlarged.

jeonghan squirms uneasily. “yeah, i gotta get back. see ya!”

he flees down the aisle, dodging a flight attendant, and vanishing from sight. joshua searches for the young teen at the airport, but shrugs it off.

seoul, south korea - 2015: another day of this, and he’ll die. joshua’s crumpled on a park bench, and the only source of light in his life right now is the blinking vending machine next to him.

but even then, the last can of espresso’s all gone.

there’s a heavy stack of notes on cardiovascular atrophy or something on his desk, waiting patiently for his return. but he can’t bring himself to do so - not when the winding twilight shines forgivingly on his numb, puffy face.

the park is mostly deserted, save for some dude in a black parka loitering around like a mugger or some serial murderer.

(at this point, joshua’s kind of glad he at least signed the form consenting to the donation of his organs to science.)

but after five minutes of joshua’s pathetic fumble with the vending machine, even the shifty looking dude leaves. wow, he’s hit a new low.

joshua slumps on the park bench again, sighing out aloud and pressing his hands against his exhausted eyes.

“you look like you need a drink,” someone says, offering him a can of espresso.

joshua doesn’t even hesitate to take it. it’s only when he needs to use some of his cognitive abilities to assess the can (and open it) that he realises it’s the dude from earlier, in the black parka.

this black parka plops down next to joshua, pulling down his hood and pulling out another drink from his pocket.

“thanks,” joshua mumbles. “oh - i didn’t know they had equator’s here in seoul.”

black parka stiffens up next to him. “yeah, globalisation and all that.”

joshua smiles at black parka. and then something makes him pause. black parka looks remarkably... familiar. but then again, joshua’s been deprived of two days’ sleep, and he’s never been good with faces.

black parka glances back at him, and lets his gaze linger a little longer. “so... wild guess here... you’re studying medicine?”

“yeah,” joshua says. “you?”

black parka shrugs, tossing his glorious (oh wow, joshua) hair behind his shoulder. “nah, i’m more prone to getting injured. but hey, you don’t sound like you’re from here.”

joshua nods, taking careful sips from his can. (what can he say, coffee’s a precious commodity.) “i’m from california, la.”

black parka perks up. “ooh, america. i’d like to go there some time.”

there’s a bit of a pause, and joshua thinks he can hear the cogs turning in black parka’s head, as though he’s deliberating on something. his gaze trails down from joshua’s lips (or nose, joshua thinks) to his hands.

finally, black parka says, “you don’t happen to play the guitar, do you?”

joshua glances down at his hands. “i used to.”

black parka’s look is undecipherable now. he swallows, and then takes a swig of his drink.

“well, mister doctor,” he says the two words in english, and joshua flushes uncomfortably. “i’m sure you’ll become a great doctor. maybe in the emergency ward.”

black parka winks, and walks away before joshua can reply.

seoul, south korea - 2017: he’s assigned to the emergency wards. it’s probably a bureaucratic coincidence; he placed it in his first choice by accident, when he was overwhelmed with joy at finally passing his examination and leaving that damned school.

joshua sighs fondly at the memory of lost nights, of countless highlighters and enough coffee to drown an elephant. the cycle will probably repeat itself, now that he’s just emerging as an intern/lowly assistant/unappreciated coffee buyer.

it comes as no surprise that he’s been given the latest shifts, given his status as a young, single doctor. even the janitor shakes his head in pity at joshua’s gentle greeting, knowing that he’d be bullied into taking on more responsibilities without given due credit.

joshua doesn’t mind. not really.

as he paces around the a&e, aware of the relative quiet and peace, he thinks of the dingy hotel in athens. it was probably the shock from seeing actual blood on a man that alerted him to a career in healing. funny how he’s trying to save a man well before his time.

joshua continues making his rounds despite the emptiness of the room, and settles for getting a late-night drink from the vending machine. they don’t have equator’s here, of course -

“’m afraid they don’t have equator’s, mister doctor.”

it’s him. but -

“you’re bleeding,” joshua says, taking in the straggling man who’s pressing his blazer against his side.

“took your advice and went to a hospital,” the man mutters, grinning cheekily. “when you’re done staring - think i might -”

the man collapses into joshua’s arms.

he has no identifications. there’s only the empty case of a pistol and the suit on his back. joshua frets uneasily, stitching up his wounds and going through the standard operating procedures. without the administrative paperwork, of course.

he feels like a criminal. joshua worries his lower lip, pacing back and forth in front of the man’s bed.

there’s no doubt it’s the man from athens, and possibly from - joshua stops himself, feeling the sharp edges of his plastic name badge. he’ll have to wake for the morphine to wear out, and for the man to wake up.

the man doesn’t wake up the next morning. joshua’s volunteered to cover yet another shift in favour of harbouring a fugitive. he sighs, and buckles down for another busy day at the a&e.

doctor lee is making his rounds as usual, and he’s surprised to see joshua on guard outside of black parka’s room. “hey, josh.”

“hey seokmin,” joshua greets, stifling a yawn.

“they’re making you work the morning shift too?” seokmin exclaims, shocked.

“yeah,” joshua nods. “but you’re not at the a&e usually.”

seokmin scratches his head. “um, well, there’s this kid, and-”

“aren’t you usually good with children?”

“yeah,” seokmin says, and then sighs heavily. “but i’m too good with them. this one - he fractured his arm but i got too carried away, and um.”

it’s not too hard for joshua to imagine seokmin, coddled by a precocious little child, playing along with their cheeky little games. so joshua sighs, and asks seokmin to lead the way.

“you’re the best!”

joshua glances back at the closed door. “sure.”

the child in question is dreadfully witty and mischievous. he’s probably not older than seven, but by the way the nurses are avoiding him, joshua’s sure he’s in for a handful.

“seokminnie!” the boy calls out to seokmin, who can only grin and wave. “who’s this?”

“please call him doctor lee,” joshua says firmly. maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but joshua wants to get this over with so he can tend to his mystery man.

(it sounds so scandalous, but joshua figures he can’t keep calling him ‘black parka’.)

“i’m jeonghan!” the boy exclaims.

joshua pauses. and then, gathering himself before the boy can get the better of him, says, “i heard you fractured your arm. let’s look at it.”

the boy frowns. “what’s your name?”

“mister doctor,” joshua says irritably.

at this, the boy laughs. “that’s a nice name, mister doctor!”

joshua softens. “sure, now, your arm.”

the boy seems to figure out that joshua’s not as easy to bully as seokmin is. he offers his arm out gingerly, and lets joshua assess it.

“where are your parents?” seokmin asks mildly from the side, in awe of joshua’s child-coping skills.

“ah...” jeonghan says vaguely. “they’re not here.”

“not here?”

“yeah, i jumped-” jeonghan clams a hand over his mouth. “i mean, i’m gonna go home real soon after this!”

joshua raises an eyebrow, but says nothing that would goad him into chattering more.

when all of it is done, jeonghan rushes out of the paediatrician department and vanishes down the hallway with his quick flailing limbs. joshua exchanges an exasperated look with seokmin, and rides the elevator down to the a&e.

but black parka’s gone. and in his place, a can of coffee from equator’s.

seoul, south korea - 2018: a year passes swiftly, with tales of patients with more complications than a simple gunshot wound or a fractured arm. but this one never stops tossing and turning in joshua’s mind.

he knows the boy - teen - man’s name is jeonghan. he knows that jeonghan must have travelled somehow, to california or seoul or athens or over the bering seas.

and he knows that he may never see him again.

joshua carries on with his day, carefully filing away administrative documents and looking up case files for his patients. he’s still working odd shifts due to his gentle and undenying nature, and the can of coffee remains steeped in sentimentality on his desk.

as he shuts his laptop, there’s a sudden shriek from one of the rooms. joshua rushes in, raising a clipboard in case there’s an armed robber or serial murderer.

jeonghan, in his bloodied suit, is holding a navy blue guitar. the patient, a mr. kim, is holding onto a pillow protectively.

“doctor hong!” mr. kim exclaims, pointing at jeonghan. “wh- he came out of nowhere!”

joshua stares blankly at jeonghan. and then at the guitar.

“um,” jeonghan says eloquently. “what year is it?”

“twenty eighteen,” joshua says finally.

mr. kim is still looking at the two with wild, panic-stricken eyes. “wh-wh- you know him? is this a prank?”

“guess i’m late,” jeonghan winces.

joshua wants nothing more than to break out in a huge laugh - mr. kim’s still catatonic, jeonghan’s in the same bloody suit, and there’s a warm twinge in his chest that he doesn’t know how to acknowledge. so joshua walks forward, pulls jeonghan out of the room.

“sorry, mr. kim, you know how doctor xu gets.”

mr. kim waves a fist.

joshua ushers jeonghan quickly into his office, and searches for an extra shirt. “how’s the wound?”

jeonghan’s still holding onto the guitar. “still new, a little sore, but you patched me up just like it was yesterday.”

joshua laughs this time. “god - i was - wow.”

“you were?” jeonghan prompts, taking the shirt from joshua and stripping out of his own.

joshua looks away. “i was worried.”

“yeah, well,” jeonghan buttons his shirt up, and taps joshua on the shoulder. “i’m sorry. you must have figured everything out now.”

joshua looks down at the navy blue guitar. “yeah.”

jeonghan follows his gaze. “i was... banking on what you said on the plane. that you played.”

there’s a bit of silence. jeonghan shuffles uneasily.

“well... i’m a bit rusty,” joshua preambles. “so if you’d like to hear me play, you’d have to stay for a bit.”

jeonghan beams. “if you teach me, can we make it at least two years?”

#seventeen #seventeen fanfics #jihan #jihan fanfic #jeonghan #joshua #jisoo #time traveller #time travel #non chronology in a chronological order

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